Yoga Monday

Please take a look at my other blog, Complexity Simplified, for today's post, "The Importance of Daily Practice." Namaste!

Let it Be

[Note: This post has been cross-posted to my other blog, Complexity Simplified, as part of the Yoga Monday series]

It is snowing. Again. I took this photo about ten minutes ago, and the flakes are still coming down. The weather service says this will continue for several more hours.

It's about 18 degrees Fahrenheit out there, and expected to drop even further, to around 8 degrees by tomorrow morning. The federal government, my area's largest employer, is closed, as are all the county offices and school districts.

Even the bus system has shut down. All of these events have transformed my neighborhood in Arlington, Virginia, just three miles outside of Washington, DC, into an oasis of utter quiet. No buses trundling by on Lee Highway, a half block away from my house. No cars. No sounds outside at all, except the bluster of the wind as it rattles my windows every few moments.

I could rail against this, point out that we've had just about enough winter already, thank you very much. Or I could dismiss it, the way many of us who have been transplanted to Washington DC react to the inevitable freakout that accompanies every flake that hits the area, saying it's just a little snow and people here don't know what real snow is, not the kind of snow we had back in Idaho and Montana and North Dakota.

Or I could notice how quiet it is. I could notice how relaxed I am, how peaceful it feels in my house, how tasty that lunch was that I just made for myself. Tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich! What could be better? I could notice that the snow is clean and white and beautiful, as snow always is. I could notice that our heat is working because our power is still on. I could notice that I am grateful for this, and for all of these things.

I could also notice that it is snowing whether I want it to snow or not. I could notice that nothing I say or do or feel will change the fact that, today, it is snowing. Again. This is today's truth.

In yoga, we have a set of ethical principles, the yamas and the niyamas, which appear in the yoga sutras as guides to our practice. Among the yamas, which are the "external disciplines," we find satya, which means truthfulness. When we practice satya, we focus on that which is true, that which is--not that which we would like or wish to be, but that which actually exists.

When we apply satya to our asana practice, we are truthful with ourselves about just how far we can stretch those hamstrings or bend that back. We don't pretend that we can stretch farther than we can or bend more than we ought. If we do, we are being untrue, to ourselves, as well as to the practice.

When we apply satya to our lives, we are truthful about everything--we accept the truth of our past and our present, we accept the truth of who we are, and who we are not. And we especially accept the truth of things we cannot control, like the weather.

Among the niyamas, those "internal disciplines" that guide our yoga practice, we find santosa, which means contentment. A verse in the yoga sutras says, about santosa, "Contentment brings unsurpassed joy."

And, thus, we arrive at the essential lesson of these two yogic principles: by letting go of our attachment to the way things ought to be, and accepting the truth of the way things actually are, we will find joy.

It is snowing. Let it be.

Why Yoga?

A couple of days ago, I offered a free Introduction to Yoga class in order to provide an opportunity for all those folks whose new year's resolution list includes "Take up yoga!" As expected for the first week of January, there was a great turnout, so many people, in fact, that we ran out of props for the first time ever. I'm offering this class again on January 18 (more info here) so if you are in the area, please consider attending!

The folks who attended this special class had a wide range of experiences with yoga, including several who had never tried it, but also more than a few who had years of experience. Some were looking for a new teacher or, in a couple of cases, were just in town for the holidays and away from their regular class, so dropping in for a visit. It was an interesting mix of people and I enjoyed talking to the new folks about what brought them to the study of yoga.

It is often the case that the issue that brings us to yoga is not the one that keeps us there. In my own case, I was gradually introduced to the practice through the efforts of a couple of fitness instructors who were, themselves, taking yoga lessons and trying the moves out during the stretching sessions at the end of class. I liked those parts of their classes a lot and tried out an actual yoga class, a free "Intro to Yoga" session offered by the local hospital. I liked it a lot, too, but didn't think I had time to add another "work-out routine" to my already busy schedule.

Even though I was not yet 40, I had a lot of aches and pains, particularly in my low back, and  I finally consulted a chiropractor who advised doing what I recognized as a move that we had practiced in that intro class--a simple reclining twist. A light bulb went off. I realized that yoga was more than just another form of exercise. Here was a method that might actually make me feel better.

And, so, I sought out a teacher, which wasn't easy in those days and in that place (the late 1980s in Indianapolis) but I found her and commenced upon the more organized portion of my yoga journey. It was to be many years before my study and practice helped me to fully deal with my lower back pain, but I quickly learned that yoga made me feel better in many ways--not just physically, but emotionally and, even, spiritually. 

If you practice yoga, what brought you to the practice? If you've practiced for awhile, have your reasons changed? I would be interested in hearing your story!

Namaste.

---------------
This post is being cross-posted to my other blog, Complexity Simplified, as the first installment of the new Yoga Monday series. Additional posts were appear on the first Monday of each month. Watch for them!

A New Beginning

I started this blog over two years ago, to chronicle my journey toward becoming a yoga teacher, a goal I achieved within a year. It was quite the journey and I had a lot to write about all through the process. I thought I would keep the blog going even after I began teaching, since I still had many thoughts about yoga to share with others. 

So, I kept posting through those early weeks and months of launching my first classes, preparing lesson plans, learning how to teach by teaching, etc. And although I thought I would keep going, since I had much to say, soon the reality of juggling a lot of new responsibilities along with the old ones left me with little time to write and even less inspiration.

It didn't seem that readers would be much interested in all the stuff I was thinking about, stuff like where can I buy high quality yoga equipment for a low price? How do I find an adequate space to rent for my classes, a space with no furniture, a quiet atmosphere and a cheap price? How do I recruit students and advertize my classes? Do I need to buy insurance and, if so, where do I find it? And while we're on that subject, do I need a business license? And where do I get one of those, anyway?

I had a lot on my mind, and it was fun to figure it out, but I really didn't think anybody would be very much interested in what I was going through to launch my new yoga teaching business. On the other hand, maybe they would be interested. And, then, just as I thought I might begin to blog about what it takes to start a yoga teaching business, I suddenly had classes to teach, sometimes as many as four or five classes a week. 

Oh, and did I mention this was my part-time job? My full-time job was supposed to be "writer," but I soon found that the writing took a back seat to a class of students waiting for me to show up and lead them through a yoga routine. Blogging is one aspect of my writing life, and it was the first to go. Before the rest of my writing life went, I finally came to my senses and cut back on my class offerings. And, miracle of miracles, my writing life came back! It's funny how clearing a space for the future, as Alexandra Stoddard says, can be the key step in bringing that future into the present.

It's now well over a year since I last posted to this blog, but I've been thinking about it a lot. When I noticed that I was composing blog posts in my head but never typing them up (since I felt the blog no longer existed) I woke up and realized that maybe I wanted to try to restart this blog.

So, here we go! I've started by changing the blog description. See that box over to the right labeled 'Welcome'? It now has new words in it. And I've been having a great time today making a list of all the topics I would love to write about here. And now, look, I've actually written the first new post!

Join me as I continue to write about my life in yoga. Something tells me I still have a lot to say.

Namaste  

The Gate of Heaven

Available for Kindle & Nook

“You looked just like a nun sitting there,” she said, walking up behind me.

It surprised me, but only a little, to find myself pleased to be mistaken for a nun. And I might very well have looked like one, since Paul’s black jacket was long on me and my dark hair flowed out like a veil from under the white band encasing my ears. 

I had come to the woods to be alone, to escape the endless questions, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. What was going to happen I, perhaps, should have been able to predict in minute detail. But, then again, she walked up and began talking to me before I learned I had the ability to do such things. I stopped my finger-folding exercise and peered over my shoulder."

The above passage is the beginning of my short story, "The Gate of Heaven," published two years ago by Paycock Press in the anthology "Gravity Dancers," and recently republished electronically for both Kindle and Nook e-readers. When I wrote the first draft of this story five years ago, I had no idea that the "finger-folding exercise" that my main character repeatedly carries out in the story is actually an example of finger yoga.
 
Although, it's not really called "finger yoga," but, rather, a sequence of mudras, or finger positions, believed to activate certain energetic pathways in the body. Practicing this mudra sequence is a form of yoga, though, and it can have powerful effects. 

As the character in my story was about to find out.
 
I, like the character in the story, learned the sequence from my doctor, who taught me to do it after I suffered a serious hand injury. I doubt very much if he knew about the role of this practice in yoga, but when I learned about this mudra sequence a few months ago, I was astounded. It had worked exactly as the tradition says it would work, even though I didn't know anything about that at the time.
 
The exercise, or mudra sequence, is also called a kriya, which is a sanskrit word that simply means "set of actions," or "sequence of movements." This particular kriya has actually caught the attention of the Alzheimer's Research and Prevention Foundation, which advocates its use for the prevention of Alzheimer's. Apparently, studies show that practicing this mudra sequence in conjunction with chanting can increase activity in the area of the brain associated with memory.
 
I really don't know if the results provided by this foundation for Alzheimer's research are valid, and further study is definitely warranted. But one thing I do know: these finger-folding exercises are deceptively simple, and extraordinarily powerful.
 
As you will find out if you read The Gate of Heaven. Check it out!

 

The End is Near!

Erich Schiffman. Photo: Christie Zepeda

In the last month, our yoga teacher training group events have included two weekend intensives, each of which ran from Friday evening through Sunday evening, plus one other amazing weekend workshop with master teacher Erich Schiffmann. 

Our final weekend intensive included a team-taught class that our group offered to the public, a very rewarding and exciting experience. I was so proud of each of my fellow teacher trainees -- and so proud of us and what we had accomplished in these last ten months.

On top of these group activities, I gave a Kirtan demo to my fellow teacher trainees, spent an average of ten hours a week observing experienced teachers, began to write up my project, which was the organization and launch of the Kirtan circle at the Sun & Moon studio, and started to get my handouts and books in order in preparation for the written final exam.

So, needless to say (!) I have been a little busy and have not had much time for blogging. The end of this 200-hour training has arrived so quickly, it seems, and it's hard to believe that we are almost done. Once I complete the final exam, which could be as early as the first of July, I will be a certified yoga instructor, which is even harder to believe.

And now, I'm heading back to the books. I have a paper to finish writing, a few more chapters to read in the yoga sutra book, a bit of anatomy to study, some sanskrit to practice, and on and on. I am beginning to realize, if I didn't know it before (and I did!) that yoga practice and study is a lifelong process that doesn't end when one finishes the 200-hour training.

Post-Kirtan joy! Photo: Ruth Ann Lowery

Nevertheless, I will be very happy to pass through these final checkpoints and will be very grateful when my certification is completed. It has been a lot of work, but never tedious - the work was challenging, but joyful, difficult, but gratifying, sometimes bewildering, but blessedly also enlightening. Oh, and it's been a lot of fun, too!


Namaste

PS: Big thanks to my fellow yogis, Ruth Ann and Christie! Both are fabulous photographers and graciously shared numerous photos, including these two, which they took during our weekend intensives.

April is YIOM

I've just learned that April has been designated as YIOM, or Yogis Inspiring Oneness Month, a project designed to encourage quality blog posts about yoga. The blog posts can be tracked on Twitter using the #YIOM hashtag.

The idea is to help elevate awareness of yoga beyond its popular image as only a fitness regimen. Yoga is, of course, a good fitness regimen, but it is so much more as Lorin, aka @TheVeganAsana on Twitter, who created the YIOM event has said.

And the project is very timely, since April is also the month I have decided to devote to practicing my newborn teaching skills. As such, yoga is very much on my mind these days. Today I hosted my first group of students at my home for a free yoga class. I decided to not charge for lessons or classes until I have more teaching experience, so had already designated April as "free yoga month." I am happy to add the YIOM definition for the month of April, and to let the project inspire me to write more blog posts!

This was actually my second yoga teaching experience, but unlike the first one where I found myself deviating strongly from my planned routine, I actually stuck to my notes this time. I had three students, all with different issues, so I found I couldn't tailor the poses for a particular issue the way I did when I was giving a private lesson.

Just as with my first student, though, I found that I absolutely, totally loved the experience of leading people through a yoga practice. I especially loved teaching the students who had little or no experience with yoga, and it was extremely gratifying to hear exclamations of "Oh! I see!" after I had brought their attention to a specific body part or position. I could literally hear the enhanced awareness of their bodies settling in, and it was a wonderful sound.

We did a full, normal yoga class, complete with Savasana and Namaste at the end, and I also loved watching them relax into Savasana, letting go of the stress and worries of the day as the thunder from an April rain shower rumbled overhead outside. I taught them that "Namaste" means "The divine in me bows to the divine in you," and as I bowed to them, I really meant it: I felt great gratitude for these divine souls who had allowed me to share my practice with them today. 

And, yes, we were sweating a bit by the end of class, and I'm sure their hips and thighs are going to feel the effects of Warrior II and side angle bend tomorrow, so they definitely got a work-out. But I also know that they received one of the most important gifts of a yoga practice: the ability and opportunity to let go, if only for a few minutes as in Savasana, and just be. 

Namaste

Kirtan Circle Launches

The last few weeks have brought a sharply increased level of activity in my yoga teacher training activities. I would like to have written more blog posts about all these activities, but this flurry of stuff has really kept me busy. Since the start of the year, I have been apprenticing in a beginner's class, have attended two weekend intensive sessions and, last but definitely not least, have prepared and am ready to launch my project: Sun & Moon Yoga Studio's first Kirtan Circle.

As readers of this blog know, I am passionate about Bhakti yoga, which involves a form of devotional chant known as Kirtan. I knew, even before I began yoga teacher training, that I wanted to share this powerful practice with others. Like everything in yoga, talking or writing about a yoga practice is no substitute for actual doing it, so I have been strongly motivated to find a way to share what I know about this practice and give others the opportunity to experience it.

All Sun & Moon teacher trainees are required to do a project as part of the training, so I chose to develop a Kirtan Circle where people who know nothing about devotional chant can come and try it out. Since early January, I have met with a small group of interested yogis at the studio, teaching them what I have learned in the few years I have been practicing Kirtan. We have met every week that we can, learning chants, singing together and having a wonderful time.

Although I knew, and could sing, many chants that I had learned "by heart," so to speak, I quickly realized that I needed to find a way to bring instrumental accompaniment into the mix. Our practice group chanted to CDs and MP3 files for awhile, and I slowly began to pick out some of the tunes on my portable keyboard. Others brought drums and shakers and bells and before too long, we were singing "Jai Ganesha" and "Hare Krishna" without even having to turn on a CD player.

This weekend we are ready to open our practice to all interested participants. Our first Kirtan Circle will occur Saturday, February 19, 2011 at 5:30 pm. The Sun & Moon studio has been wonderfully supportive of this project, and has listed our Kirtan Circle dates on the website where you can find directions to the studio. If you are close by and can join us, please do. We would love to chant with you!


Namaste

Civility is Just the Beginning

This past week following the shootings in Tucson and attempted assassination of a member of Congress, a great deal of commentary has been broadcast by the media calling for more civility in our discussions with one another. In my view, civility is just a first step. We need to strive for so much more than mere civility in our dealings with one another. 

We need to strive for kindness and treating each other with compassion. Violence is never justified, and the weapons used in violent attacks on one another are sometimes physical, but can also be verbal.

This week, my yoga studio posted Judith Lasater's four-sentence definition and description of "ahimsa," one of the niyamas, or daily practices, put forth in the yoga sutras: 

"Ahimsa, usually translated as 'nonviolence.' This refers not only to physical violence, but also to the violence of words or thoughts. What we think about ourselves or others can be as powerful as any physical attempt to harm. To practice ahimsa is to be constantly vigilant, to observe ourselves in interaction with others and to notice our thoughts and intentions."

The combination of the yamas, or ethical practices, and the niyamas form, according to Stephen Cope, author of Yoga and the Quest for the True Self, the "eternal religion, because they represent the core practices of most religious systems." 

Advocating for nonviolence in "thought, word and deed" is not unique to the practice of yoga, but should be a principle that all in a civilized society strive to live by.

Let us treat each other as we would like to be treated. Let us choose our words with kindness, always striving to do no harm when we act or speak. Let us practice ahimsa in all that we do, remembering that when we say to each other "Namaste," we are not just acknowledging, but bowing to, the core divinity within each person.  

Namaste

And So We Begin

Last Thursday was the first weekly class meeting for those of us enrolled in Sun and Moon's ten-month yoga teacher training program. Although "orientation" does not take place until September 19, the fact that this was the first time we were together as a group, made it feel like the first day of school. And, by the end of the evening's session it was clear to me that I had just been afforded the opportunity to experience "beginner's mind" once again.


I have practiced yoga for almost twenty years and it has been a long time since I've been in a yoga class where I felt like I had no idea how to do the pose or movement that the teacher was describing, but that was exactly my experience last Thursday. Alex, our instructor, led us through what sounded like a simple movement exercise and I was suddenly losing my balance, unable to figure out how to move my arms and legs to do what she suggested--in short, transported back to the frame of mind that used to be my normal state in yoga class.


The movement instructions were simple: close your eyes, Alex said, then step forward and go down, interpreting "down" in whatever way seems right to you. So, I closed my eyes, stepped one foot forward and crouched, immediately losing my balance and toppling. I tried it again and again, never quite finding a way to do this movement that would allow me to carry it out with grace and poise.


After a minute or so of practice with our eyes closed, Alex instructed us to open our eyes and see how the others in the class had interpreted the instructions. There were over twenty of us in there and I saw about twenty different ways of stepping forward and going down, including several people who were leaning over in a forward fold and placing their hands on the floor.


I was astounded. Why had it never occurred to me that I could use my arms and hands? Why had I restricted my movement to only my legs? Alex instructed us to change our interpretation if watching the other students gave us some ideas about how to make the movement easier, and sure enough, putting my hands on the floor completely solved my balance problem.


The exercise continued, with further interesting observations, but that first one remains with me, and I'm still mulling over the lessons and insights I can draw from the observation that I didn't think about using my upper body when I heard the instruction: "go down."


Instead of being distressed by this turn of events, I was excited. I was learning about my body in ways that were fresh and new, and I remembered a similar sense of excitement when I was a new yoga student. It was good to be a beginner again.