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Inspiration

2012-02-05T17:42:00.000-05:00

When you're low on prana, sometimes it helps to visit your sources of inspiration. The first comes from a phenomenal lady named Steph Davis. Steph Davis is a climber who is known for free solo climbing up huge cliffs and rock towers--meaning she climbs without a rope and she's thousands of feet above the ground! She has also taken to jumping off those high cliffs (often after climbing them) either via parachute or wing suit. Talk about mastering your fears! Dealing with fear is something she talks about a bit in this video and that's one reason I find it inspiring:

The other big source of inspiration is, of course, the yoga (even when it's feeling a little rough). And I really love the way Kino Macgregor (who is a pretty inspiring person herself) talks about it in this video because she talks more about the longevity of the practice--something that's inspiring when you go through periods of "slump."

Tara has no prana...

2012-02-01T13:31:00.000-05:00

Yeah, it kind of feels like that. Most of January actually (hence the month long absence from the blog). I was sick for nearly the whole first 2 weeks of January with some kind of head cold that everyone seemed to be getting. I don't usually get sick that often (I didn't get sick at all last year, minus the last couple of days in December when the cold started to settle in) and when I do it doesn't usually stay with me that long. This one, however, knocked me on my ass. It wasn't even that there were a lot of symptoms--no fever, no throwing up. Just a lot of congestion, coughing, achy muscles (that was the first symptom) and a huge energy zap--due largely to being unable to get a full night's sleep courtesy of the coughing and congestion. I tried everything in my home remedies tool box to fight it without meds: hot water with lemon, ginger and honey, neti pot, cut out all the dairy, ate spicier foods, shots of apple cider vinegar...nothing helped. I kept my practice up for a little while and always felt a little better afterwards, but I finally had to stop that too because I just didn't have the energy for it. I finally caved, took a sick day at work and got some Advil PM and Mucinex. 2-3 days later, I was sleeping through the night and feeling better--though I had some really bizarre dreams.

So, the cold finally cleared out but my body felt like it had been through a train wreck. Body was exhausted, energy was depleted and my appetite and digestion felt completely off balance. Sugar snuck its way back in, almost felt like it needed to after eating so many spicy foods. Now the appetite is feeling a little more normal and I'm working to kick the sugar back out of my system (or at least as minimal as possible). I may enjoy the taste of sugary foods (can't lie on that one) but it always messes with my mental and emotional state--I feel better in that sense with it kept to an aboslute minimum.

My energy is still touch and go right now and, more often than not, my practice feels very tiring (as evidenced by the 30 minute savasanas I've been taking). All the days of coughing also left a very annoying, and very persistent, knotted/pinched up muscle right next to my right shoulder blade. When I try to use that muscle or "round the upper back," it's like there's some kind of vise in there that clamps down on it. Not fun. That's been hanging around for about 2 weeks--even after some seriously deep tissue massage. Tennis ball massage, heat, arnica gel...nothing. This "gremlin" (as Kai at The Reluctant Ashtangi likes to call them) does not want to let go. My knees have been a little achy as well and my right foot (the one that had the surgery) has suddenly started feeling pinched up and achy as well. I've also noticed a tenderness/tightness in the attachment area of the left hamstring--which could spell hamstring tear if I push it. It's not an injury yet and I'm hoping to keep it that way, so I'm being very careful in my forward bends right now. Add in some tenderness and mild pain in my low back/SI joints following a cranio sacral session (the session was good, but it appears to have stirred up something in my lower back/sacrum area).

Today my friend was explaining to me and a couple of other friends at the studio how you could tell how the prana (the vital life force/energy in your body) was moving in your body by what direction a dangling pendant was spinning (called "dowsing"). If the pendant spun/rotated towards you, then your prana was in balance; away from you and it was out of balance (he said you could also tell which foods were good for you via the same method: toward you = good, away from you = bad). I watched my friends hold it and saw how it move even though they were very clearly not moving their hands or arms.

When I held the pendant--no movement. Tara has no prana, lol. Which of course is not possible, lol. My friend suggested that something was probably just blocking it. With the state my body is in, I don't doubt it, lol.

Oiy, here's hoping February is an improvement...

Easing into 2012

2011-12-31T13:03:00.000-05:00

I love Garfield. I read that in the Boston Herald newspaper yesterday and it really resonated with how I'm feeling about the coming year. At the start of last year, there was a lot that needed to change in my life. The big change of course was the new job, but a lot of 2011 was about letting go of a lot of things and not resisting the changes as they came. In 2010 I was holding on to my yoga practice way too tight, refusing to let it change in any way that I didn't want it to. My then-boss had said that I was dictating my whole schedule and forcing everyone else in the office to work around it. Ironically, this year, in order to go deeper into my practice via the teacher training, I had to be willing to let it go, to let it change in ways that I wasn't actively pursuing. With the new work schedule and the addition of dog-walking and dog-sitting, I suddenly was not able to practice with as wide a variety of teachers and classes as I used to. At first I was bummed out because I had grown close to a couple of the teachers. But, it was a change that definitely needed to happen (it kind of seems like that's how all unplanned life changes seem to be) and that I was ready for. My Ashtanga practice became my home, the place where everything that I learned from the training and all my past teachers had a chance to actually integrate--rather than constantly bouncing between classes and teachers and taking in new information.

Now, my practice is at a place that feels more sustainable and more intelligent and mature. And so does my life, for now at least. It still feels like there are some significant changes waiting just on the horizon for me next year (I've heard that's kind of a given when you start really practicing the Intermediate Series, lol) and I'm really curious to see where my practice goes and what changes will come in my life next year. But it doesn't feel like there's anything that I have to actively "do" or change. No big "resolutions" or intentions. Just keep doing what I'm doing but be alert and open to changes when they come. Even my body is on the same page for this one...yesterday I started fighting a cold. Nothing huge, just enough to sap my energy. So, no midnight yoga class or party with friends. Sleeping, that's probably what I will be doing during the transition from 2011 to 2012, lol. My first practice of 2012 will probably not be some grand feat of physical strength or endurance. No 2 hour Yoga Mala (108 suns) like last January. Though it might be heated because it feels like my body needs it to help sweat out whatever has taken up residence in my body, lol. We'll see how it goes ;-)

See everyone in 2012!

Ninja chakrasanas, Bhekasana, achy knees and a new way to flow

2011-12-17T14:38:00.000-05:00

This week's practice was a little bit of a mixed bag--both in how it went and in what I practiced.

Sunday I took a break from the Ashtanga practice for 2 reasons. One, my body needed it after the intensity of last week ;-) Two, my very first yoga studio, Healing Tree Yoga, in Quincy, MA was holding a free yoga weekend (meaning every yoga class was free!). It had been well over a few months since I'd been back to visit my teachers there so this seemed like a good opportunity. It was really nice, felt like going back home. Healing Tree is such a sweet little one-room studio and the quality of teaching there is on level with anything that I've seen at some of the bigger studios in Boston. Even better sometimes because the class sizes are smaller so there's more opporutnity for discussion and individual attention. It was so good to take class with my first two teachers from there, just to hear their voices and their instructions again. It also made me realize how much I've grown since then.  During my first couple of months of yoga my emotions ranged from being extremely unhappy and feeling lost in my life to being ecstatic at this new way of moving that I couldn't even really understand yet.  In my practice I remember wanting to do all the hardest things that they could throw at me, just show that I could do it. I can feel now that there is much more intelligence in the way that I practice and more fluidity--I don't have to concentrate as much on "what" I'm doing, it just flows more easily and organically. I guess 2 years of daily practice and a teacher training will do that to a person! It was also good to be able to talk with my teachers from there, even if most of the time it focused on them encouraging me to teach even though I don't feel ready. "You're never going to feel ready Tara." Probably true, lol, but it doesn't feel like it's time yet. Is it weird that even though I've had a daily practice for 2 years I still don't feel like my practice is...stable? I think that's the word I'm looking for. I don't feel strong enough and stable enough in my own practice and life to be able to teach yoga to other people. My teachers don't buy that explanation, lol, but that's how I feel. Both of them offered to talk with me and help me in whatever ways I might need in order to get me moving in that direction and it's nice to know that I still have that support if I need/want it.

Monday was back to the Ashtanga room. Practice was still flowing smoothly with the straight leg jump-throughs and I'm pretty sure they're here to stay. It's so weird, it feels so natural and smooth now that it feels like I've been doing them that way for years, rather than just a couple of weeks! I feel like at some point, after lots of practice, something just "clicks" inside and suddenly the body just understands how to do it. I think a lot of it actually has to do with not thinking too much about "how" to do it. That entrance to supta kurmasana from seated is still kicking my ass but my back is adapting quickly and it doesn't feel quite as tight as it did (I also got a 15 minute massage while I was at Healing Tree, so that probably helped too).

Tuesday was actually a home practice because I had an 8am-1pm time window for the gas company to come and replace the gas meter. I didn't want to lose the momentum that my practice was building up, so I convinced myself to get out of bed just after 5:00am and do my practice at home.  At first, my body was not impressed and was completely against the idea of moving, lol. I ended up doing about an hour of restorative/yin type poses before I actually started my Ashtanga practice. And even after that, my body still felt stiff and it felt very hard to find the rythym and even to get the breath really moving. It's hard to say why practice felt so sluggish that morning, almost like my mind was too engaged and my body too tired. In the past when I've felt similarly, the standing balances tend to work really well to get me focused and connected. Tuesday, not so much. It felt like energy and focus were just not going to be there. So, I had resigned myself to finish the standing poses and then move into doing something else once I got to the seated poses. Odd thing happened though, as soon as I jumped through to the first seated pose, it was like a little switch got flipped on and suddenly, there I was--settled into my practice and ready to go. The rest of it was pretty smooth sailing. I was also pretty excited to practice the seated entrance to supta kurmasana a little differently--seeing as how I was at home and could do whatever I wanted ;-) I'm "supposed" to put the left leg behind my head first and then the right. But, as I've said before, I'm no where close to being able to do this "properly" and the left side of my back is getting tighter and "denser" than the right. So, I tried with the left leg first and then I tried with the right as well. The right side is actually a little easier, but that doesn't surprise me, my right hamstring is much more open than the left. I still got no where close to coming into Supta K from seated but it gave me some good information on what I need to work on with the left side of my body.

I also went to a vinyasa class in Jamaica Plain with a teacher that I really like. It's actually starting to become a regular thing to go to her class once a week (usually either Sunday or Tuesday). I really like the way that she teaches. She has a lot of energy in her classes but it's also really light and fun. The other thing that's really cool is that she trusts her students.  You can tell by her cueing and the poses that she offers that she trusts both the physical ability of her students as well as their judgement in attempting the poses that she offers. She also almost always includes some arm balances and fun transitions as well as inversion time--which I love. I go to her classes to play :-) She also challenges me by throwing things at me I don't normally do because she knows that I can do them. My handstand is also getting much more stable because of the time I spend in this class. I can find the balance pretty easily knowing the wall is in front of me and have been finding some "hang-time" pretty regularly now. It actually almost feels calming. She also had us do something really cool and fun on Tuesday night: she gave us the option to drop into chaturanga from a tripod headstand. It was awesome! You kind of feel like a rockstar when you do it, lol. And I think it had a positive influence on my Ashtanga practice the next morning.

Wednesday morning, I did something in my practice that I have never done before. I landed directly in chaturanga from my chakrasana! I wasn't even trying to or even just thinking about it--my body just did it! I lifted my legs up on the inhale, exhaled and pressed into my hands and all of the sudden I rolled over my head and landed directly in chaturanga. I got this awesome little boost of energy from doing it and now it makes even more sense as to why it's in the series. I feel like the tripod to chaturanga that I did in the Tuesday vinyasa class was the thing that kickstarted this because the movement is similar. Once my body got a feel for the movement, it just naturally incorporated it into the chakrasana! A friend of mine said that the few times that she's managed to do that she always feels like Chuck Norris. I totally agree, you feel like this awesome combination of rock star and ninja, lol!

However, a little gremlin that I've been noticing popping up in my body and getting stronger finally came to a head later that day. My knees had been getting tighter and more achy ever since I came back to Boston from my vacation in the desert. Oddly the right knee was getting worse than the left (the left used to be worse than the right).  But on Wednesday afternoon I noticed a significant pain directly in the middle of my left knee and it soon became painful to walk normally. Nothing odd happened during practice, it just started hurting later in the day. By the end of the day I was limping and it was painful to straighten my left leg.  My doctor has told me that he thinks that I might have a degenerative tear in the meniscus of that knee and I started to worry that it might be getting worse since I started taking all the half-lotus positions. I remembered my teacher (who is also an Ayurvedic consultant) once told me to try massaging the knees with warm sesame oil, so I did that Wednesday night to see if it would provide any relief.

The next morning (Thursday) it was not much better. There was still pain when I straightened my leg and I was still walking with a limp. I tried not to worry about how it would effect my practice and just to adjust my practice as it needed it, but the practice was still choppy and my mind focused more on my knee than on my breathing. But, my teacher also gave me the next pose in the intermediate series, so my spirits picked up a little bit ;-) I am now up to Bhekasana, frog pose (see below):

I know, it doesn't look like it would be good for someone who is having problems with their knees, lol. Can't say I wasn't a little concerned, but it was actually fine. The amusing part is attempting to extend your back in that position. It felt like I couldn't get more than a couple of inches off the floor, lol. Then my teacher sat on my legs and pulled back on my shoulders and I rocketed up! It was hilarious, I felt like a seesaw, lol. Even though the poses like these ones are more difficult for me because my back muscles aren't that strong, they feel great because they're strengthening my back. I've really felt the difference in my Urdhva Dhanurasanas ever since my teacher added salabhasana. My back has felt more open and it's been easier to get the bend moving out of my lower back. Add in this new pose that also stretches the quads and backbends felt great that morning! I'm so excited to finally be in this series. I know that I've said it before but I feel like it's going to challenge me in all of the right ways. And it feels great energetically as well. I feel more awake and balanced after practice now--rather than the super calm/borderline sedated and balanced feeling that I have after practicing just the Primary Series.

I also talked to my teacher on Thursday morning (after practice) about my knees feeling worse. I didn't want to because I was afraid that she would be hesistant to move me forward in the series, but they were definitely getting worse and she needs to know that. She said that a lot of other people's knees were starting to hurt as well. She thinks it's mostly the cold weather. Could have a lot to do with it, but mine hurt here during the summer too. The only thing we can think of is that the dry air in the desert was helping my knees. She thinks a lot of it might be inflammation and possibly even some fluid in my knee since the pain seems to move around. She recommended to do castor oil packs on my knees at night. Massage warm castor oil on the knees and then wrap them up with plastic wrap. Leave the wrap on over night and then wash it off in the morning. She also recommended getting leg warmers or something to cover my knees in the colder weather as well as taking baths in epsom salts. I tried the castor oil wrap as well as an epsom salt bath Thursday night and the next morning they felt remarkably better. No more limp or pain when I walked or when I straightened my leg. I still stayed away from any lotus positions on both sides during Friday's primary, just to be careful.

Speaking of Friday's led primary, that was actually the highlight and surprise of this week! My teacher had us try something different in our sun salutations/vinyasas. She had seen a book of Krishnamacharya (Pattabhi Jois's teacher) doing the vinyasas differently than Jois did. In the book Krishnamacharya kept his gaze to the ground during chaturanga (instead of looking straight forward) and in the transition to up-dog, he kept his chin tucked in until the last moment and then he just let it fall back in up-dog (rather than keeping the chin up/level the whole time). And in the transition from up-dog to down-dog, the arms bent out to the side a little bit when you push back to down-dog (as opposed to keeping the straight the whole time like you're normally taught). My teacher had been trying it in her own practice and liked it and wanted us to give it a try, at least for just the 5 Sun A's and Sun B's. The hardest part was getting the hang of letting the arms bend, it felt totally unnatural and choppy. Not to mention it went agaist everything I was taught in my teacher training. I could hear Natasha (a.k.a, alignment guru/nazi) gasping in outrage in the back of my mind, lol. But the head position felt fantastic! Keeping the chin tucked in until the last moment felt like it helped to isolate and emphasize the bend in the upper back during up-dog, whereas the "traditional" position felt like I was leading with the head and it felt harder to get the bend in the right place. It also felt so much more relaxed in the neck area! I kept the new head position for the duration of the practice and even the arms bending out to the side in the down-dog transition. I tried keeping the arms straight but discovered that the slight bend out to the side actually helps to incoroporate the relaxed movement of the head. My practice has never felt more fluid and light...it was phenomenal. It's amazing how making just a couple of small changes to something that you do everyday in your practice can completely change it! I've never felt the neck/upper back region of my body feel more relaxed than it did after that practice. I told my teacher afterwards how much I liked it and she told me that she was watching me and could see how much better it was for my body to do the vinyasa that way. I think she was just as excited for it as I was, lol!

When led Primary finished on Friday, I just wanted to keep practicing, it felt so good. It's cool, even though there still some days where the practice feels a bit off or super intense, I'm still really loving my Ashtanga practice right now. It feels like I'm in this wonderful phase where all the work I did during the first two years of my practice has finally solidified and integrated itself enough to where a large amount of the practice feels almost effortless. Like I no longer have to really think about what I'm doing, I just move. Now it's less about building a strong and solid foundation and more about refining and smoothing out what I already know. I can't wait to get back to my practice tomorrow.

Ashtanga growing pains

2011-12-07T15:59:00.001-05:00

This has been quite an intense and awesome practice week for me thus far (and I still have 2 days left!)

AWESOME:
One big part of the awesome is how fluid my practice has felt, due largely to all the straight-leg jump throughs. About a month after my teacher training ended in August, I did my first ever straight-leg jump through (after close to 2 years of practice). But, while I could do it on my own at home (and not while doing dozens of vinyasas) I couldn't seem to incorporate it with any consistency in my Ashtanga practice.  I usually caught a few of them near the beginning of the seated poses, but my arms would eventually tire and I didn't do them throughout the rest of the practice. Well, on Sunday, I just started doing them! It didn't even feel like it was a conscious choice, as in "hey, I think I'll jump-through with straight legs." I just started doing them, as if I'd been doing them like that for months and it was the easiest thing in the world! And it's continued throughout the rest of the week, I don't even have to really think about it, I just do them.  One thing I've noticed is that if I take extra breaths between when I do the jump-throughs, it's like I lose the rhythm and my feet will skid. I also noticed that I do my jump-throughs on the inhale, it's like the breath in helps to lift me through. I don't know if that's the "proper" way to do it, but that is what seems to work for me.

I've also started working more consciously on actually attempting to jump back. In the past I've usually just lifted up, put my feet down and stepped back. Now, I actually put more effort into lifting up AND bringing the legs back through to chaturanga--even if it means my feet give a little push when I get stuck. In the past, that always felt like cheating so I wouldn't do it. Now I realize that it's helping me to get a feel for the motion of the jump back and they're starting to feel quite light.

But, one of the best parts of my practice right now is that I can do nearly all of the lotus positions! I haven't been able to since I started because my knees (particularly the left one) have been bad. The doctor even thinks that I have a "degenerative tear" in the meniscus of my left knee. But, the right one was good so I've usually been able to do at least the right side of any lotus/half-lotus type poses. Well, for some reason, when I was practicing on my own back home in Arizona, my left knee stopped hurting! I was floored! I couldn't believe that it could just simply stop hurting like that! Could have been the dry air, the break from having to walk every where or just simply being more relaxed. Whatever the reason, it feels so good to be able to do the full version of those poses.  It's like I can actually feel what those poses are doing in the sequence and to the body. Is it weird to say that I love feeling my heel pressing into my abdomen? It feels fantastic, like a pressure release. Since I got back to Boston, the knees have still been holding up, for the most part. They're starting to feel a little tight since I've been doing all the lotus positions. Not painful, just tight. Actually the right knee (formerly the "good" knee) more than the left! Sometimes, I think my body is either, weird, confused or screwing with me, lol. Anyways, the tricky part right now is that in a full lotus position, the left leg sits directly on top of an old shin splint left over from my running days. It was the last one out of about 3 areas on each leg to develop. I was surprised at how tender it still is, even though it's been 3 years since I last ran consistently. I know the compression is good for it, because it's going to help break it up, but damn it hurts, lol.

My teacher also moved me further into the Intermediate Series and gave me Salabhasana A and B (the 3rd pose in the series). The first version is done with the hands back and arms straight, keeping the hands on the floor. Then you lift the chest and the feet off the floor for 5 breaths. After 5, you keep the legs lifted and move the hands forward as if you were going to do a low cobra. Stay there for 5 breaths. After that, lift straight up to up dog and vinyasa through. Not exactly a "hard" pose but definitely one that my body needs. It strengthens the muscles in my back which tend to be my weaker muscles and back bends have been feeling pretty good afterwards. It feels like a good prep. My spine was about the only part of my body that didn't respond well to being back home in Arizona. Backbends, twists...they all felt tight and achy during my week of self practice back home in the desert. Add in 2 days of driving, 3 nights of sleeping on a thin futon and 2 plane trips...no wonder my back was resisting backbending!  It's still felt pretty tight and achy since coming back to Boston last week. So, the addition of Salabhasana feels like it's really helping to uncurl my spine from all the travel and whatever it didn't like about being back home.

Supta Kurmasana has also been feeling amazing! About a month ago, one of my teacher's assistants was able to get my hands to clasp--and stay clasped! And a couple of weeks ago, when I spent a week practicing on my own back home in Arizona, I surprised myself and got the hand clasp by myself! Tricky part, I could no longer get the feet on my own once I got the hand clasp. But, when someone else wrangles my feet into the clasp, it's really deep--and it feels so good! On Monday, my teacher noticed and decided that it was time for me to work on it differently.

INTENSE:
Since Supta Kurmasana is now coming fairly easy to me, she wants me to work on coming into it from seated. Meaning she wants me to clasp my feet behind my head, while seated upright, by myself, and then lower down to Supta Kurmasana and clasp my hands. In other words, come into it from Dwi Pada Sirsasana (pictured below, just minus the arm balance)

I don't know why I thought even for a second that it seemed simple. It's not. It's hella hard, lol. I got my left foot behind my head and couldn't sit myself up straight enough to even attempt bringing the right leg up on my own. Every time I'd try, I'd fall over. I kind of felt like fish flopping around on land. Except that I've bound up one of my fins and only part of my body can flop around in what can only be a comical sight. It's quite possibly one of the hardest things I've ever had to attempt in yoga (along with eka pada bakasana and bound ardha chandrasana). It makes the entire backside of your torso work. And it hurts. My newly recovered neck muscles are a bit sore and I've had a persistent muscle cramp on the left side of my back since my first attempt on Monday. And only the left side because you're "supposed" to put the left leg up first. And since I can't get more than the left foot behind my head without falling forward/over, only one side of my body is cramped. I don't think my body has been this sore from Ashtanga since I first started practicing it 2 years ago and my hamstrings were screaming for mercy. Oiy.

I usually give it 3-4 good tries before either someone helps me or I resort to doing Supta Kurmasana the "regular" way. And by the time I get there, I'm so tired from the attempts at the new way of coming into it that I have to struggle a bit more to get the hand clasp and then just collapse into the floor for the remaining 5 breaths. If someone wrangles my feet together, great. If not, I'm content to just stay there curled up without my feet clasped, lol. Oooff. It's amusing when I think about it and talk about it, but when I'm attempting it, it's hella frustrating and exhausting.

But, this is Ashtanga. No avoiding the poses you don't like. You can either let the knowing that you have to "face" the hard pose (and probably get no where close to it, despite your best efforts) ruin the rest of your practice or you can take it however it comes when you get to it and then let it go and move on to the next pose. I love my practice. So, I'm doing my absolute best to not dwell on how that pose might be on that day...or how sore I'm probably going to be afterwards, lol. Good news though is that the body adapts pretty quickly and even though the left side is cramped, it's not quite as bad as after the first time. Interestingly enough, I've kind of felt like I've had more energy this week. I don't know if it's the practice being more fluid from the easeful jump-throughs or the addition of new poses and backbends starting to feel better; but I have definitely noticed that I've felt less "comatose" post-practice this week and more alert--even though I'm getting my butt kicked in there. And even with the "growing pains" (ouch my back muscles and shin!) my practice feels like it's made some significant strides just during these last 4 days. And I've felt so much more focused during my practice. It feels like a bunch of little things have clicked together and my practice has grown and deepened in some way. And that's a pretty cool feeling :-)

What to do when the practice feels off

2011-12-01T13:01:00.001-05:00

First off--brief update. The neck is probably at about 99% now; the "injury" almost seems like it never happened! The only remnant is a small twinge at the top of the neck that I feel from time to time. Headstand, shoulderstand, setu bandhasana are all back and feeling good...I even did a couple of chakrasanas during this morning's practice (I had been staying away from them--for good reason, lol--and had fallen back on rolling the way that I was taught in karate, where you roll on your shoulder instead of your head, lol). So, I'm back to my full practice (up to Krounchasana in the Intermediate Series) and feel stronger and more stable in the shoulders because of the way that I had to practice after I hurt my neck. Funny how that works out ;-)

Second, I was going to write a post about my practice and time during my trip back home to Arizona over Thanksgiving, but after a comment that someone left I felt like I needed to write this one instead. This one is about what to do when your practice feels...off, like you can't connect to your breath and "drop-in" like you usually do. When I first started practicing, it felt like every practice was phenomenal and I never thought that it could be anything but that. But, when things got really rough and confusing in my life, I found it very hard to connect and there were many days I just didn't want to go to yoga. That I couldn't understand why I was doing it if I wasn't even enjoying it anymore. It was kind of heartbreaking when I first felt that because I loved it so much. But, I kept going and kept showing up and I've learned a thing or two along the way that I feel like I should share.

So, here are some things that have helped me in the past when the practice didn't feel like it's going so well, when the practice was rough:

1) First and foremost, get on the mat.
A good friend of mine often says that the hardest pose of Ashtanga Yoga is getting out of bed. And that's true for any practice of yoga. Sometimes, when there's something really big and troubling going on in your mind or your life has become very turbulent, the hardest part is showing up. So, that is a huge accomplishment in itself.

2) Keep your focus on your breath.
The breath is the most important part of the practice.  One of my favorite explanations that I have heard is that "everything in yoga is optional, except breathing." It's what helps open your body, focus your mind and help you connect to You. In Forrest Yoga, one of the first things they do at the beginning of a class is some kind of pranayama exercise. A lot of other classes do a similar thing where the first thing they do is get you to notice your breath. Simply spending a few minutes just sitting and focusing on your breath IS a yoga practice and a good way to get centered before starting any asana practice. Nadi Shodhana, alternate nostril breathing, is a good one.  For those that don't know it, you start by closing off one nostril with your finger, say you start with closing off the right. Breathe in through the left for maybe a count of 5 (some number that is a deep breath for you but not your deepest breath possible). Switch, close off the left nostril and breathe out of the right nostril for the same count (5 in this case). Inhale for 5 through the right, switch and exhale for 5 through the left. That is one cycle. You can either stay at the same breath count or you can try to increase it, just don't increase it so much that it makes you feel tense and panicky. I think alternate nostril breathing is a great way to get connected to your breath when it seems difficult to do so. It's very different than your normal everyday breathing, so it grabs your attention a little more. And because you have to count and switch which nostril you breathe out of, I feel like it holds your attention better.

During your practice, keep bringing your attention back to your breath and making them as long, deep and steady as you can. Regulating your breathing is one of the best ways to help focus and calm your mind. I believe it was David Swenson that I heard say that "when you control the breath, you can control the mind." Also, during your asana practice try to use your breath, rather than just simply inhaling and exhaling. Try breathing into an area where you feel tension (like the back of your heart, neck or chest) and see if you can feel that you can actually use your breath to both open your body and help support it. Pretty cool, right?

3). "OM."
Seriously. When I first started practicing I couldn't understand why we were doing it and felt really silly and uncomfortable doing it. Then I did it on my own (at work, when no one else was in the office, lol) when I was feeling really flustered and scattered, and the centering and calming effect it had was remarkable. In the Mysore room, we usually start our practice before the teacher comes in and leads us through the morning chant, and it always amazes me that it still has such a powerful effect on me and on the energy in the entire room. After we've said the last OM, there's this awesome focused silence that follows it and you can feel you and everyone else in the room really "drop-in." So: OM. It doesn't have to be booming loud, just loud enough for you to feel it reverberate throughout your chest. Do it as many times as you need to in order to feel that sense of "dropping in," and always pause and listen after you finish an "OM." It is said that there are 4 parts to "OM:" the sounds that make it up, A-U-M, and the silence that follows it. It's a "silence" that is so still but so focused. It's really hard to explain, but you'll understand what I talking about when you "hear" it ;-)

4). Slow down and stay in your poses longer
No one said that your practice has to be a grand amazing feat of asana. It could be nothing more than a handful of juicy restorative poses and a 30 minute savasana. But, when I'm feeling particularly scattered or worried or just off, one of the best ways for me to "drop-in" and get centered and connected is to stay in the poses longer. For one, staying in them longer means you're going to feel it more in your body. Try to have a scattered and wandering mind while staying in Utkatasana for 1 minute or more ;-) One of the beauties about the asana practice is that we can use the body, something concrete, to get to the mind, which is more subtle. So, staying in the poses for longer is going to really get you connected. I'm not saying to do a 50 minute downward facing dog (but if you want to try, go for it, lol). But just stay a little longer than you normally do. You get more of a stretch, or, depending on what pose you're doing, wake up and energize the muscles a little more. But it also has the chance to leave a stronger impression on your mind and your emotions.

My go to pose when I'm feeling really scattered and ungrounded is Sirsasana, headstand. There's a reason this pose is called "the King of Asanas." It's a "heating" inversion, so it's invigorating and it reverses the flow of gravity and helps bring fresh blood to your head. But, because of the contact with your head on the floor, it's also grounding and you can hold it for longer than you could a handstand or forearm balance. But, it's still a balance (clearly, right?!) so it requires your full attention in order to do it. During my teacher training, there was one practicularly rough day and I came home and was feeling so upset and all jumbled up that I needed to do something. So, I unrolled my mat and held down dog for a little bit and it's like my body just knew what to do after that. What it needed was a 5 minute headstand. I had never done one for that long before but the after-effects were amazing. I felt extremely centered and calm but also very rejuvinated. It was like this perfectly balanced feeling. I'm not saying it will be like that for everyone or that everyone should do a 5 minute headstand. The point is that the poses we do have an effect on our minds and emotions. So when you stay in them for longer, you'll experience more of it. Start moving, find a pose that clicks with you at that particular time and stay there for a while and breathe. Could be Warrior 2, Utkatasana, Downward Dog, Headstand, forward fold, one of the Prasaritas (wide-legged forward fold), plank, supported backbend...who knows, depends on what your body and mind need. But, going back to point one, just start. Your body will give you hints along the way if you listen.

5). Keep your dristhi (gaze/focus point).
My Ashtanga teacher likes to say that "where the eyes go, the mind will follow." So, try keeping your gaze steady on one point in each pose and see if that helps focus your mind.

6). Close your eyes.
I know, I just say to hold your dristhi, lol. This is where my other yoga background comes in. Quite often, especially in poses that I'm very familiar with and are "easy," closing my eyes helps me "drop-in" because I can feel what my body is doing a little better and feel the breath moving in my body more. Closing my eyes also shuts off one source of incoming "stimulation," so there's one less thing to pull my mind around.  What's also cool is that closing your eyes in poses that you are familiar with also brings a newness to them, because suddenly your balance feels different. You might even start to realize that every pose is actually a balance--even Tadasana.  Don't believe me? Try it and see how much you sway back and forth when you stand ;-)

7).  Focus on the count.
You find this one in Ashtanga. In the Ashtanga series, there is a set count for everything in the sequence: the number of vinyasas and how breaths you take in each pose. Sometimes, this can have a very focusing effect because it gives your mind something to do. Want to know how to stay longer in the poses in the Ashtanga sequence and still stay with the set number of breaths? Longer breaths ;-)

8). Longer savasana.
One last piece of experience I can give you is to take a longer savasana. From my experience, savasanas in led classes are nowhere near as long as they need to be. I think most people need 10 minutes, 5 at the bare minimum, for a 90 minute class. Savasana is the most important pose in any class because it's the time when your body and mind absorb everything you just did to it---all the bending, twisting, inverting, focused breathing...you do a lot in your yoga practice, give yourself the time to rest that it needs. And use props! For mine, I like an eye pillow, or at least a small hand towel, to cover my eyes and completely block out any light. The eye pillow is also really good because the slight bit of weight on my eyes really helps to settle me in. I also almost always place a blanket over my abdomen and thighs because having the weight and warmth over those areas feels very grounding and calming. And, again, stay longer than you usually do, especially when you're feeling scattered, upset, etc because it will probably take longer for your mind to settle.  My Ashtanga teacher puts it really well, "stay until you feel like you need to get up and then stay a little longer."

And, going back to point one, always thank yourself for showing up and putting forth the effort to practice--even if you never "dropped in" or had a "bad" practice. There were several months, earlier in my practice, when my life was turbulent to say the least. Where I literally hated the job that I worked at and had stopped putting forth any effort to actually do my work once I was there (I'm amazed I wasn't fired); was unhappy with where I was living and totally lost on where my life was going, even my yoga practice had lost a lot of its joy. To say I was depressed would have been an understatement. But I kept going to yoga and putting out the effort. Why? Because it felt like that was the only thing I wasn't giving up on (meaning the pull to stay in bed, eat junk food and wallow in my depression was very strong). Somedays, simply getting on your mat and putting effort into your practice is your practice. So always give yourself credit and thank yourself for showing up and practicing.

Chakrasana FAIL--Gifts and lessons

2011-11-09T16:53:00.000-05:00

Injuries. They're physically painful and, in the past, I used to only see them as these things that were preventing me from doing the things that I loved--or at least from doing them without pain (I ran entire track seasons with excruciating shin splints and nearly torn muscles). Now, initially my first thought still tends to be: "Seriously? Another injury?! This sucks! Why does this always happen to me?!!" I let myself feel upset and a pissy for a little while, and then I let it go and try to see exactly what is it that my body is trying to tell me? Because that's what an injury does--it literally forces you to take a pause in your "normal routine" and gives you the opportunity to gain a new, or deeper, understanding of some part of your life and, if you're really paying attention, instill a deeper sense of gratitude for the things that you have in your life and what you are capable of.

Lessons:

(1) The muscles in your neck do a lot of work! It takes a lot of effort just to hold that 10 pound ball that is your head in an upright position--let alone move it. Add in a job where I sit in front of a computer and I am suddenly very aware of how often I lean/sag my head forward towards the computer. I've been learning how to sit with my head in a more neutral position while I'm at work, because, really you don't actually need to lean your head forward to look at the computer. Granted it requires less muscular effort to let it hang forward than it does to hold it neutral, but the leaning forward pulls on the muscles and felt like it actually weakened them.

(2) I overuse the neck muscles. Ok, that's not exactly a "new" lesson, but it's one that I've really felt now as opposed to just knowing it in my head. The pain that came whenever I had to use my neck muscles was a pretty good kick in the...well, neck, lol, to let me know when I was using my neck muscles and didn't need to be. For example: abdominal work. I went to a Forrest yoga class last Thursday and during the abdominal work section I got a nice little jolt whenever my body tried to "cheat" and lift with my neck as opposed to my abs. Talk about learning the hard way! Again, this isn't exactly new, I know my abs don't actually like to do work when they're supposed to--it will recruit from my neck and my back instead. But, now that both of those areas have "body tweaks" they have no choice but to do the work ;-)

(3) Related to number 2 is I get to learn how to properly use the other muscles in my body since the one I overuse is injured. Example: twists. Again, I know that I'm supposed to twist through my core first and then the neck follows, and I actually do a fairly good job of making sure I don't just turn through the neck. But...I do have one side that is harder to twist on than the other and apparently I use my neck to do it. So, again, now the twist has to come through my core first. The other place I've noticed that I really overuse the neck is in Up Dog, even if I'm not letting my head drop back. It's been difficult to get the lift through the upper part of the back and I can feel now that I've been trying to pull it up with the muscles of my neck. Now, I've been focusing on getting more lift in that pose by actually using the breath--instead of the neck muscles ;-)

(4) Forrest Yoga is a very intelligent practice. I've still been practicing the Ashtanga series but since I hurt my neck I've had to bring in some aspects of Forrest Yoga. Such as: keeping the chin in line with the chest during twists and not turning the head at all so that you can't do all of the turn in your neck. Also, 2 words: Turbo Dog. I think this is a genius pose. It's down dog except you bend your arms. Not all the way down to the floor, just enough so that you can feel the muscles on the side of the ribs turn on (specifically, your latissimus dorsi muscles). It's wicked hard and that has been my down dog for the majority of my practice since I injured my neck. Why? Because it has been the only way I could get the upper muscles of my trapezius to not grip around my neck. Also, it feels like strengthening that muscle has given my very open shoulders a little more stability because the shoulder muscles aren't having to do all of the work. Lately I've also been noticing the inside of my elbows starting to get sore and I've heard from a couple of body workers and other teachers to not lock my elbows in poses where the arms are straight. So having to keep that slight bend in my arms during down dog has been helping there too.

Gifts:

(1) I said in my last post that this injury has felt like it was truly a gift and the big reason isn't because of all the great little lessons that I'm learning. It's because it has made me fall in love with my home practice. During the last week or so that I've been healing my neck injury, I've been practicing primarily at home and it's been so good. In one of the posts that I wrote about my last day of teacher training, I said that the thing that I wanted to take with me from the training was my home practice. Well, that didn't really happen. I've been pretty much living in the Mysore room since the end of the training. Which has been great, but it's almost like I haven't stopped to come up for air, almost like I haven't really processed all the yoga asana that I've been doing. Home practice has always been a "weak" area for me. I didn't start out my practice of yoga with a home practice and I've never really had one during my 2 1/2 years of practice. The training forced me to practice more at home, in order to write my sequences, and I discovered that I practice very differently when I'm at home. Even if it's the same thing that I practice at the studio (i.e, the Ashtanga series). There's just something about the way I practice at home that makes everything I practice seem more easeful, less strenuous. My shoulders never feel tired in down dog and I relish in holding poses for longer--and it never feels strenuous. Well, with the exception of one pose: Vira (Warrior) 1. I don't know what it is about that pose, I just don't like it. It's almost like I feel very...exposed? I think that's the right word. Which doesn't make too much sense because it's the same arm position as one of my favorite standing poses: Utkatasana. That's right, I discovered during this past week of home practice that Utkatasana is one of my favorite standing poses. I've never felt that in a studio class or when I practice in the Mysore room. But when I was practicing at home, I swear I could feel the energy from the work in my legs slowly travel up my body and just energize the whole pose.

It feels like the biggest difference between practicing at home and practicing at the studio is that I am more relaxed at home, so everything feels a lot better. I'm learning a lot about where I hold most of the tension in my body--my shoulders. I swear that part of my body doesn't know how to relax when I'm around people. Again, not a new concept but without the home practice to compare it to I don't think I would have known exactly how much that tension is blocking the energy from moving freely around my body.

On a related note, the other gift I got from this injury, and as a result of my home practice, was really getting to appreciate the genius of the Ashtanga Series. After getting injured while practicing it, it kind of felt like I got to fall deeper in love with it. Corny, right? :-) But I don't think I ever really felt what the Ashtanga was doing in my body and the effect it was having on my mind until I practiced it at home. I could actually feel the ujjayi breath helping to warm up and open my body. I have never actually felt it do that before! And as I progressed through the series, I was actually able to witness my mind gradually growing steadier and quieter and feel when it actually "dropped in." Funny thing about practicing at home, there are less distractions. No other people to watch and listen to, no teacher. Just you. So, there are less outside distractions which makes it easier to see how many internal distractions there are. At the studio, it always feels like it's super easy for me to just "drop in" to the practice. Might be true, but it's more likely that my mind has just found some external thing to attach itself to--the teacher's voice, the music (if I'm in a class that plays it), other people, outside sounds, etc. At home--there's none of that (I didn't play any music). Just you and what's going on in your head. Takes the practice to a whole other level. That being said, the most important thing for me to do during that time, and the hardest, was just to start. It didn't matter if I just layed on my back on the mat for a little while and just started with deepening my breathing, the most important thing was to get out of bed and get on the mat--if I didn't, I would stay asleep ;-) Oh, that's another reason the dristhi is so important at that time of day, if I didn't focus my eyes on something, I could feel my body being resistant to waking up. But once I actually got going...it was so good. It was really hard to get myself to stop when I knew I needed to in order to get to work on time. It was really sweet, it felt like I could keep practicing for hours and not get tired.

I have a handful of people who live at the condo building where I work at that I chat with about yoga whenever we see each other. I was talking to one of them who mostly practices yoga at home about my recent exploration of a home practice and some of the best benefits of practicing at home: not having to carry multiple bags, being more relaxed, more room/opportunity to explore things in the practice, getting to eat breakfast at home, getting to ice the injured body parts directly after practice, the body not getting all cold and tight before practicing because of having to travel outside in the cold with multiple bags, and all of the other things I discovered during this last week. What's really cool is that after our talk she said that she was inspired to start setting aside a dedicated time to do her practice at home, as opposed to the sporadic "gentle stretching and handful of standing poses" that she usually does (her description, not mine). And, seeing as how she actually utilizes all of the "yoga tips" that I give her, she probably will :-)

So, going back to the studio after all this was kind of bizarre. I went to a Forrest Yoga class that ended up fairly crowded and I felt like a deep sea fish that had been brought up to the surface too quickly! I could feel that I was really on edge, I felt mildly claustrophobic and I couldn't seem to relax even for a moment. The air in the room even felt scattered! I almost, almost, just wanted to keep doing my own home practice. But, I realized another thing after my talk with the resident of the condo. I was telling her about my experience with Utkatasana and she didn't know what it was (because she didn't know the Sanskrit word for it). So, I showed her and I described what I was doing, very simply, "bend the knees, weight in the heels, arms up." That one instruction of "weight in the heels" was a light bulb moment for her! She always felt like there was too much weight in front and had never been given that instruction before (again, she practices mostly at home) but hearing that one instruction totally changed the pose for her! And that's why we go to classes--to learn from teachers. Kate (my teacher) came back from her trip this weekend and she gave me one simple instruction for Trikonasana, "relax the toes (back foot) and put more weight here" "here" being the outside edge of my foot. That one instruction changed the pose for me, I could feel that one little shift help open up that entire line of my body!

So, now I feel like it's time to figure out how to combine those two things: home practice and classes at the studio, with my teachers. They both feel like they're important elements of a full yoga practice. At home is where you integrate everything you've learned and start teaching yourself things about yoga. At the studio is not only where you learn from your teachers, but it's also where people can see you and learn from you. I've had people tell me before that they've learned something just by watching me and I've also learned from watching other people. It's also one of the places that I get to share all the information that I've learned, both from the training and from my practice, with the people I practice with (when it comes to the subject of yoga, I talk just as much as I write, lol). So, once I come back from my 2 week vacation back home (that's going to be interesting, but a subject for another time) I feel like I need to pull one day aside for a home practice. It's weird, even though I know how great a home practice is I can feel that I'm still resistant to it. But it's definitely time.

Chakrasana FAIL

2011-11-05T18:05:00.000-04:00

I had started about 4 other posts before this one that, obviously, never got published. There just wasn't a whole lot to write about. Nothing new and exciting at work. Still not teaching. Though I started going to physical therapy to hopefully resolve my low back issue, there was nothing remarkable on that front either. My practice was moving along nicely and my teacher gave me Krounchasana (the second pose of Intermediate) a week after she gave me Pasasana. Pasasana was coming along nicely: heels on the floor, balancing and binding without needing an assist about a couple of weeks after she gave it to me. Back bends?....eh, still not much going on there because of the chronic low back stuff and the light-headedness. So, there was a bit I could talk about there too but I was getting tired of talking about it.

Either way, practice was rolling along nicely until I rolled/crunched my neck during a chakrasana 2 Thursdays ago. I don't know if it was because my ponytail got in the way (now I know why my teacher wears her hair in braids...I really need to learn how to braid my own hair), if I just didn't push into my hands at the right time or if my neck muscles were just tight to begin with. Either way, there's was a significant crunch feeling along the left side of the neck with accompanying pain that radiated up the neck, down the upper back and across the top of the shoulder. I stopped, checked to make sure my arm still worked and tried to assess what happened and how bad it was. Just holding my head upright felt like work and the pain was pretty intense. The person who was subbing for my regular teacher suggested to try continuing with the practice to see if movement help. I tried to lower down into a chaturanga and the pain shot through my neck and into my head. Big time NO to movement. I stopped practice, gingerly closed with the last 3 seated poses and rested with my head supported in savasana, trying not to cry and to just rest and breathe.

After I got up it was still pretty bad. It was painful to just hold my head upright and there was intense pain whenever I tried to move my head in any direction. I iced as soon as I could and took 600 mg of Ibuprofen and continued icing throughout the day (yay for a freezer with crushed ice at work!). Even though it was really painful and definitely scary, I decided that I would wait until the weekend was over before making a decision about going to see a doctor and just give my body a chance to rest and do its best to heal itself. Little side note of irony: a friend of mine did the exact same thing during her Mysore practice a couple of weeks earlier!

After 2 days of icing and 2-3 rounds of 400-600mg of Ibuprofen a day, it started feeling better. I had a little more mobility and it was not as painful to just hold my head in a neutral position and most of the pain was localized around the muscles on the left side of C7 (lowest vertebrae in the neck). Though I did scale back the Ibuprofen on Sunday after talking with the body worker who helped me with my shoulder during the summer. She reminded me to be careful with how much I move my neck when I take the Ibuprofen because the medicine masks the pain. Good point. That's the reason that I never take Ibuprofen before a practice if I have an injury: I need to feel what is causing the pain; the pain is my body's guide to moving correctly. Which speaks volumes about how my view of injuries and the body has changed from when I used to run! Anyways, I was going to just keep resting and not try practicing until the pain was gone completely, but the rest of my body was cramping up and feeling pretty tense, not to mention my mind felt like it was kind of on edge. So, on the Sunday following the chakrasana mis-hap, I practiced a few suns and some standing poses at home and it went surprisingly well, as long as I kept my head in a neutral position and didn't use the muscles in the back of the neck too much. The rest of my body and my mind was extremely grateful for the movement. I also sent out an email to one of the bodyworkers at my studio asking for help. Even though it was doing really well on its own, I was starting to get some nasty tension headaches traveling up the left side of the head, and I just wanted to make sure that it wasn't serious. I got an appointment for that Tuesday and continued practicing at home, just carefully making my way through as much of the Primary Series as I could without pain (which was just up to Paschimottanasna).

By Tuesday it almost felt normal and I was wondering whether or not I should keep the appointment...until I had to jerk my head back to avoid something falling on me. Ouch! Nope, not back to normal. I was also surprised at how sensitive to the touch it was when Nicole (craniosacral therapist and "miracle body-worker") was working on it. Most of the time she actually focused on the muscles under/around the left shoulder blade (which makes me think that my thinking that I pulled the upper muscles of the trapezius might not be too far off--especially considering the trajectory of the pain and the shape of the trapezius muscle). She also worked inside my mouth, on the muscles of my jaw to be more precise. I'm not going to lie, it was really weird to have somebody outside the dentist put their finger inside my mouth, lol. But, she thought it would really help the neck to have the jaw muscles relaxed. Can't say it didn't need it. I know I clench my jaw at night and I noticed that morning that it felt really tight when I tried to yawn. When the hour finished it was hard to tell how much help it had done until I yawned! Holy cow! I knew it was tight but I had no idea it was that tight! It sounds weird but it felt like there was so much freedom and space in my mouth and jaw. It was quite remarkable. Even better, there was minimal to no pain in my neck when I woke up the next morning! It was mostly just a general feeling of stiffness. My neck definitely still has a ways to go though because I could still feel pain when I moved it in certain direction which she said would be the case, that I would still feel it back there. But it was definitely significantly better after the work that Nicole did on it and the headaches going up that side of the head have dissipated.

So, I am now working with another injury. Annoying? Yes. But, this time around it has truly almost felt more like a gift and less like an injury because of how it has effected my practice. Which I will cover in the next post because this one is too long as it is ;-)

Intermediate

2011-10-05T17:12:00.000-04:00

Pasasana, "Noose Pose."

(snagged from a Google search)

I'll let you guess why it's called "noose pose." It's also the first pose the Intermediate Series of Ashtanga. And my teacher just gave it to me this morning! She kind of caught me off guard. I've seen people practicing Intermediate and I know it has a lot of back bends and lotus positions. I get super light-headed during my drop backs (my teacher took those out a couple of weeks ago so that we can work on that not happening) have a tweaky low back and tweaky knees (my doctor actually thinks I have a "degenerative tear" in the meniscus of my left knee, not enough to cause instability, but enough to cause pain during certain *ahem, lotus* movements). So, I thought that Intermediate was still a ways off. Guess not! I was laying on my back getting ready to do my second set of baby back-bends (just coming up on to the top of my head instead of full Urdhva Dhanurasana) when she walked over and asked if I had done Setu Bandhasana. I told her I had and she said, "Jump through, Pasasana." My reaction: "Huh?" Who, me? I'm such a geek sometimes, lol. I knew what Pasasana was but I think I was kind of in disbelief, lol.

Here's a surprise, Pasasana is tricky! It's not as easy as it looks! Obviously it's a deep twist, but it's also a balance! I didn't have any trouble getting my heels on the floor (yay for long Achille's tendons and open calf muscles) and I was able to catch most of the bind (yay for long monkey arms)...until I tipped over. Kate had to hold me in place. I think this pose is going to be very entertaining to work with...I forsee lots of me falling on my butt and rolling around, lol. But I also think it's going to feel amazing. I tend to get all grippy and tense in my shoulders and that's a pretty big opening that's going on here! Not to mention, in my practice, I'll have back bends right after this. And as I learned in teacher training, twists are a GREAT prep for back bending, because they loosen up the spine. So I think it's really going to help in that area.

The other thing that was kind of cool and unexpected was how the pose felt energetically. When I got Setu Bandhasana, it felt like a huge opening and I felt like I got this huge energy boost. Largely because it was a new pose, the end of a series that I had been working on for nearly 2 years and it is indeed a huge opening of the front body, primarily the throat. Taking savasana that day was actually a challenge! The energy boost lasted all day long. Pasasana, in comparison, was sort of anti-climatic. Possibly because it's actually not the climax, it's a beginning ;-) Either way, there was some excitement but I was left with a very grounded feeling afterwards. Which also makes sense, because this is a squat and you're very compact. So, it seems like not only does this pose prep my body for back bending, but it also feels like it does for my nerves as well because it's so grounding. Intermediate is also called "Nadi Shodhana," translating as "clearing the energetic channels." I have a feeling that my practice is about to get very interesting ;-) I had been practicing the Primary Series for nearly 2 full years (October 26 marks the beginning of my Mysore practice). Sometimes super consistently (4-6 days a week) sometimes barely 1-2 days a week while I practiced other styles. Now it is pretty much the only style of yoga that I practice and it feels like home and it's quietly exciting to know that it's about to go to another level. Thinking about moving into the next series of Ashtanga kind of feels like I did when I practiced Pasasana for the first time this morning; it wasn't a huge struggle of a pose just one that is tricky on very subtle levels. Moving from Primary to Secondary feels like that, just kind of a quiet step forward.

On Teaching...

2011-09-21T14:06:00.000-04:00

Today is officially one month since I completed my yoga teacher training. Hard to believe, feels like it's been longer!

I am still not teaching right now. But, I have noticed more and more lately this desire slowly rising in me to share what I have learned. And there seems to be more and more opportunities thrown in my direction. There are a couple of people at the studio I clean and practice at saying that they want to take my class and two of my teachers from college have said the same thing. My roommate just sent me an email that her sister (who I've only met a handful of times) sent to her, to let me know about a well-known yoga studio that has openings for yoga teachers. I have had around 5 people at the condo I work at who have told me that I should teach a class there at the building. A young couple that I talk to regularly in the building want me to teach them privately. If anything, that last one feels like the one that I am feeling most drawn to and would feel most comfortable doing.

I've also been doing more "sporadic/spontaneous teaching" to people. Usually it's just one pose, maybe 2, or a concept...something they have a question about. It's getting easier and feeling very comfortable. Words just come out of my mouth easy and I don't even have to think about what to say. I also feel like a lot of the information from the training is starting to integrate in my head, but only when I have someone to apply it to (outside of myself). I noticed it a few nights ago when one my roommates asked me, "Do you know anything that could straighten my back?" I told her that it depends on why her back isn't straight, lol. Basically it's just because she has "desk syndrome:" her back is in a permanent hunched position and is weak. One, because of the desk job. Two, she has a very thin body frame and not a lot of muscle tone to support it. The conversation turned into this whole mini-session where I showed her some basic poses that could help, broke out my anatomy book and explained what muscles were doing what and how that effected her body. It was actually a pretty amazing experience. First because I was stunned to hear those words coming out of my mouth and to see all the information actually coming together. Second, because I was learning a lot too. My roommate is what my teacher trainer, Jennie, would call a "brand new, baby beginner." I had never seen someone who was brand new to yoga and not already athletic! I was trying to explain how to put weight in your hands just from an all-4's position (on hands and knees) and that was hard for her! I was originally going to show her how to do a Sun Salutation and immediately realized that it would be very hard for her. And, suddenly, as we kept talking, I started drafting a sequence for her in my head! I suddenly realized why YogaWorks sequences things the way that they do and why beginners have to start out with a lot of standing poses--because putting weight in their hands right at the beginning is to hard. Jennie used to say, "you have to learn how to stand on your feet before you can stand on your hands." I told Tamara (teaching assistant from my training and someone I also practice with in the Mysore room) about the experience and she said, "you're going to have to start figuring out your hourly rate!" I said, "I'm not charging her! She's teaching me!"

It's like I couldn't really understand everything I had learned until I actually had someone specific to apply it to. And that's one reason I feel more drawn to teaching privately right now rather than teaching publicly. I have a lot to learn about how to teach and more than a couple of people feels like too much to take in and to respond to. For example: the young couple that wants me to teach them. The husband wants me to teach him "how to not die in a yoga class" and to help make downward dog less strenuous on his shoulders. The wife wants me to teach her Crow Pose/Bakasana. They are in two different places! I've always known that yoga was originally taught on an individual basis--actually seeing the reasons why just emphasizes it. Although, I feel like if I were to teach anything publicly it would be Ashtanga, because I know the sequence and, for a large part, it makes sense (minus not doing much of anything to stretch the hip flexors and quads in preparation for the back bending and not doing much of anything to open the outside of the hip in preparation for all the lotus positions--just a little reminder that the Primary Series was designed for a young, athletic boy (a.k.a Pattabhi Jois). Which, again, is why YogaWorks sequences things the way that they do. In the training, they said that both Iyengar and Ashtanga had their own extremes and were meant for the the very serious yoga student, and not someone who does yoga once or twice a week. Again, after the session with my roommate, I really understand why.

So. Here I am. I am now really starting to feel a desire to actually teach and share what I have learned. But what do I teach? How do I do it? The how part kind of relates to the what. Where do I start? What do I teach after that? I feel like I need someone to teach me this part. When I practiced karate, once you got up to the higher level ranks/belts, you assisted your sensei in the lower level classes and taught portions of the beginning of the class. There are no lower level classes and yoga isn't taught this way--at least not at this, or the great majority, of yoga studios. There is at YogaWorks studios...which we don't have in Boston. Which is why teaching Ashtanga is appealing--there's a method to it, a set system of poses to work with and progress to. And then there's that feeling that bubbles up whenever I think about actually doing it. Whenever I think about teaching publicly, it kind of makes me feel like vomiting. But, at least the desire is actually there now and I feel a little more confident about what I know. That's a start.

Fear and the return of drop-backs

2011-09-17T17:51:00.000-04:00

My practice took another fun turn this week. I'm still on my Ashtanga roll, not wanting to do much of anything outside of this practice. After all the different styles and teachers that I've bounced between, it actually feels really good to settle on one for this long (yes, 2 weeks is a long time in MY practice, lol). There's really not a lot of that "itch" to check out another class or another teacher or do something different that is usually present. I'm a little worried about losing the precision that I learned and the endurance that I gained from holding poses for much longer than one does during an Ashtanga practice, but I also know that it doesn't take me long to get back whatever I think I've lost. Plus Kate has been really good about catching me on some alignment issues, especially where my backbending is concerned. Speaking of back bending, Kate returned standing up from and dropping back into Urdhva Dhanurasana (a.k.a, full backbend/upward-facing bow) to my practice! I had been doing them for about 4 months before I had my foot surgery last October.  They've been on a hiatus since then, largely because I aggravated an old back injury/tweak by attempting to stand up from them before my foot was strong enough to help support the movement. Because of that, my lower back (already shaky because of a previous injury) took all of the bend and back-bending had been rough since then. Add in subsequent shoulder and wrist injuries and back bends were almost completely gone from my practice for quite some time. But, the training I just finished spent a lot of time going over how to back bend properly. I've done a lot of work on them and since I returned to my Ashtanga practice after the training, they've been improving and feeling really good. Apparently, Kate noticed.

It actually shocked me when she told me to try standing up! She just gave me Setu Bandhasana last week, I didn't expect her to put those back in too! On the next back bend, I started rocking on to my finger tips in preparation of standing up---and I was shocked to feel how scared I was! Not to sound like I'm boasting, but there are very few things in the yoga practice that actually invoke fear.  But this one was suddenly doing it and I was shocked at how vivid it was. My breathing was shallow, it felt like my heart was racing and I felt like I was shaking on the inside. I was really scared of hurting my back again. But, if there's anything I've learned from the injury (aside from waiting until an injury is fully healed and regained its strength) is that if you don't fully commit to whatever you're attempting then you will end up hurting yourself. If I only half-heartedly attempt standing up, then my legs won't do the work that they need to and the lower back will be forced to take all of it because that's the path of least resistance. So, I focused my whole effort on making sure I was engaging my legs and that my hips were over my feet as much as possible before I stood up. And, I did it. I couldn't believe I actually got back up--or that my body remembered how to do it. I had to just stand there for a few moments before I could start attempting the drop-backs, which were equally terrifying.  I was literally shaking when I stood up--from the fear of possibly hurting myself again and from the effort of trying to stay calm. I kept needing to let air out through my mouth instead of through my nose. Kate kept calling from across the room, "Tara, breathe through your nose."  Nod the head, yep, working on it. That whole time I kind of felt like I was hovering on the verge of a panic attack. By the time Kate came over to do them with me (for those who don't know, in Ashtanga you do at least 3 drop-backs on your own and then at least 3 more with the teacher) it felt hard to keep my breathing steady and I was feeling very light-headed. I didn't feel like I could do anymore.

However, the funny thing about this system of yoga is that you don't get to run away from something that scares you. Nor do you get to skip out on the poses that you don't like (like purvottanasana, my once long-time nemesis who is now more friend than nemesis). If you've been given that pose in your practice, you do it. Your attitude towards it and how you approach is where the real lesson comes in and where you can really start to change your habits and how you react to things. What I might have done in the past with a pose like this that scared me would be to ignore the fear, let my mind check out and just do the pose without thinking about it. Which is likely to get me injured because I won't be thinking about what I'm doing.  The fear is a guide. I'm afraid that I'll hurt my low back because that's what happened last time. So, if I pay attention to the fear and make sure I do the pose and movement correctly (using the legs, and the breath and keeping the bend in my upper back, etc) then I am less likely to repeat what caused the injury last time. So, with Kate's guidance, we worked very deliberately and very slowly and gently. She is giving me more time than I have seen her do with other people to collect myself and steady myself before going back. After we finished I felt like I was going to pass out from all the mental energy I was having to put into it. Thankfully the very next pose in the Ashtanga sequence is Paschimottanasana (seated forward fold) and the best adjustment in the world--the "paschimo squish," where the teachers lays over you and presses your chest towards your legs. And now I really understand its purpose. Those drop-backs can be really scattering for the mind and your emotions. Having weight on your back helps to ground it all down and calm your nerves.

The next day, the drop-backs were much smoother and my fear was much less vivid. It's still there though, I have a feeling it will be for a while. Aside from being afraid of hurting my back, I'm also afraid of passing out. I tend to get very light-headed when I do drop-backs in this practice. I normally have fairly low blood pressure, and yoga is known for lowering your blood pressure. I actually got to see evidence of this last week. I went to my doctor for an annual physical right after doing my morning practice and my blood pressure was 98 over 56. The nurse kept asking if I felt ok or if I was feeling dizzy, lol. I said, no, I'm fine, I just did yoga this morning, lol. Anyways, one of the drawbacks to low blood pressure is getting light-headed. I also think my blood sugar might be a little screwy, so that's probably not helping. Kate is trying to get me to engage the bandhas (energy locks), specifically mula bandha (root lock), but I haven't figured out exactly how to do that yet--or at least not consciously. And I'm kind of curious how that is supposed to decrease the light-headedness. But, Kate knows what she's talking about, so I'm going to trust her on this one.

Ironically, the fear that I'm feeling in back bends now almost feels like a gift. As I said before, there isn't much that scares me in my practice. Natasha (teacher from my training) likes to say that your practice is like a mirror for how you are in your life. And I've always wondered how I could be so seemingly fearless in my practice but so fearful in life. I guess I just hadn't found it in my practice yet. And it's really amazing to get to watch the process happen. Because my usual reaction to fear is disassociating, or ignoring it, I'm not fully conscious of what actually happens in my body when it first shows up--which, I'm told, is key to changing it. I'm pretty sure this is the same fear and the same reaction to fear that kicks in whenever I had to teach during the training. I'm getting a pretty good view of it: there's a small "catch" at the bottom of my throat, making it feel hard to get air in or out (which may be why I feel the need to breath in and out through my mouth and not my nose), my chest tightens and my heart starts racing and I feel like I'm shaking from the inside out. Now I understand why it's so paralyzing and why it's so hard to think clearly. This is going to be a really good place to work on this. Thus far, as always, the most important part and first step is remembering to breathe, lol. I'm working on the rest :-)

Ashtanga Days

2011-09-10T11:57:00.000-04:00

It's been just about 3 weeks since the end of my first yoga teacher training, though it feels like a lot longer. It's pretty amazing, it feels so distant now that it almost feels like it was a dream. Part of that is because of the nature of my mind. Not only is it heavy on the Vata side (Ayurvedic term, one of the 3 "doshas," or energies, found in the body that consists of air and either. For a better definition go here), which means that as quickly as I learn something, I tend to forget it just as easily. But that's also how my mind has learned how to cope with unpleasant, intense or stressful situations--forget that it happened. Which is why I made such an effort to write about what I was thinking and feeling immediately afterwards: I wanted to remember it. Not necessarily dwell on it, but remember what it felt like and what I learned. So, I gave myself enough time to rest and just process what I went through. I'm actually very proud of myself for handling it the way that I did. I didn't spend a lot of time just sitting and crying and throwing myself a "pity-party," but I didn't ignore what I was feeling either--which is how I used to handle situations like that. Close off, don't feel anything, do anything to keep moving and not feel or think about it.

Not this time. I let myself feel it for a bit--the sadness at the training being over, at not seeing my fellow trainees (who I was just starting to get close to) every month and not getting to practice consistently with the teachers from my training, the frustration, disappointment and intensity of the practicum, the fear of the uncertainty of the future and the "what am I supposed to do now?" There was a lot going on in my mind and I knew that I needed to feel it and process it. But I knew that I also needed to let it go and move forward.

That's where the Ashtanga came in. I went back to the Mysore room and my Ashtanga practice last week and the first practice was pretty incredible. It was mildly exhausting because I felt like I was still recovering from the training, but it was as though someone had flipped a switch in my brain. I felt calm and grounded for the first time since the end of the training. It was like a total system reset. For this entire past week, all that I have done is my Ashtanga practice. Not only has it been calming and grounding for my mind and emotions, but I also realized that it has given me a place to integrate what I learned during the training. A lot of what I really learned in the training were very subtle things--alignment points and subtle actions that you can't really see from the outside (like consciously using certain muscles to move you, literally using the breath to move the body, the famous "root-rebound" action that Natasha and Jennie emphasized throughout the training...and many more) but make a huge difference in how the practice feels. I used to think that I couldn't practice these things in the Ashtanga room because the sequence had to be practiced in a certain way. True, Ashtanga is pretty specific about certain things. But all of those things are subtle enough and universal enough to practice in any class. Jennie used to talk a lot about making students take responsibility for their own practice. I think this is what that means. I know how to do these things now. It's up to me to actually use them and practice them, without a teacher telling me when to do it. And let me tell you, the Ashtanga feels amazing when you have everything lined up right and are actually present and working in the poses--and not just holding them.

This past week of Ashtanga has felt like so much longer than 1 week--I think because of the way I've been practicing. It has almost felt like I've been re-discovering my practice, and I've enjoyed every second of it. I've also made some pretty big strides in the practice. I'm starting to find more ease in my jump-throughs (from down dog to seated) and am starting to actually find a sense of the jump-back (from seated to chaturanga). My back bends are also starting to feel better. For some reason, in this practice, back bending has been feeling difficult. In other classes they're very accessible, but in Ashtanga, it's a little harder to find. I haven't tried to bring back the drop-backs (lowering down into Urdhva Dhanurasana from standing) yet, but I feel like I'm getting close. Also, this last Thursday, I finally found the full bind in Supta Kurmasana--no towel necessary for the hands! Here's a pic for those who don't know what it looks like (this is most definitely not me in this picture, this is courtesy of a Google search):

This is pretty huge for me, I've been working on this pose for probably close to a year because my shoulders have been so tight. I usually can't even get my fingers to touch and need a towel to hang on to. And then, suddenly, there it was. Cara (Ashtanga teacher and Kate's assistant in the Mysore room) squeezed the outside of my legs together, so that my shoulders could wiggle underneath even more. I clasped my hands and reminded myself what Erin (a teacher that subbed for Kate) told me when she was working with me on this one: "don't let go." I kept my fingers clasped tight, Cara crossed my ankles in front of me and, there it was: Supta Kurmasana. And, shockingly, it didn't feel like a struggle to hang on to the clasp and my breathing was still pretty steady! I stayed in the pose longer than the required amount of breaths, after Cara had walked away, to make sure that I actually had it. Yep, still there. I was shocked, I couldn't believe it actually happened, I never thought I would be ever be able to actually bind in that pose!

There was another huge stride in my Ashtanga practice that day. Kate, my Ashtanga teacher, gave me the last pose of the Primary Series: Setu Bandhasana

I know what you're thinking. "What the hell?! That can't be good for your neck!" That's what I thought whenever I saw people do it. I didn't even play with this one on my own because it looked so crazy. But here's the cool thing, it actually feels really good. Opens up the throat and the chest and it actually felt like it helped me get more air into my lungs than other back bends. I actually got it on the first try! I thought that she would have to walk me through it a few times because the placement of the feet and the head looked confusing. Nope. She showed me how to place my feet and talked me through the prep part where you put the top of your head on the floor and start the bend in your back, just like Matsyasana. Then she said, "now straighten the legs," and there it was. No fuss, no struggle. Just keep the legs straight, the hips lifted and the breath moving up to your collar bones.

After I finished the pose, it felt like I had just got a huge energy boost. My back bends felt great, I did 6 of them. I layed there after the last one trying to decide whether or not to do more. I wanted to, but I also felt like I probably shouldn't push that pose because there's still something odd going on in my lower back. But I still had so much energy! I rolled up and went into Paschimottanasana (seated forward fold) and instantly wanted to come out of it--like it was restricting the energy that had just been released and I just wanted to keep moving. I even had to make myself stay in Savasana! For those who don't know me, forward folds are usually some of my favorite poses and I enjoy staying in them for much longer than 5 breaths. And Savasana--in my Ashtanga practice I'm usually in that pose for at least 10 minutes, sometimes I relax so much in that pose, I even fall asleep (which, aside from the anesthesia-induced sleep from surgery, is the most restful sleep I ever get). So, for me to not want to stay in a forward fold or to have to consciously make an effort to stay in Savasana is saying a lot! It just felt like this huge accomplishment--like, in running when I had been working towards a goal time for a long time and then finally reached it, such as the first time I broke the 6 minute mark in the mile, or the first time I broke 2 minutes and 30 seconds for my 800 time (half a mile). It feels like, after breaking that mark or accomplishing something like this, you just reach a whole other level of whatever you're practicing.

Kate actually told me the morning before (Wednesday) that she was going to give me the last pose. She actually was going to about a month before the training started, but then the shoulder and wrist gave out and my Ashtanga practice took a back seat to the teacher training. So, when she told me she was going to give it to me, I just kept my mouth shut. Even though I was as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve, I didn't tell anyone--I didn't want to jinx it, lol! But the Ashtanga gods were on my side that day. No injuries, no over-sleeping the alarm. Now I am practicing the full primary series. It's amazing. I've been practicing and working on this series for almost 2 years (1 year and 11 months to be a little more precise). Sometimes I've been at the practice 5-6 days a week, other times it fell down to 1-3 days a week. But it's always been there. I've was able to use it and adapt it after my surgery and through all the different injuries that I've had over the last couple of years. It's been confusing and frustrating at times, but I feel like it's finally really become my practice.

Yoga Bookshelf

2011-08-27T22:52:00.000-04:00

This is just a short post in response to a friend/teacher's post that she found on another blog site. The site asked for people to take pictures of their "yoga book" shelf, just because he was curious what other people might have on their shelves.

It seemed like a fun game to play while waiting for Hurricane Irene to visit Boston. I was actually surprised to see how many yoga books I had accumulated. Some of them aren't specifically "yoga books" but they do share the same inspiration. Some I have bought, some a former roommate left behind when she moved away in a hurry, and some are from my yoga teacher training that I just finished. I've completely read about half of them, others I have skimmed through and some I have yet to read at all (like the Gita). At least 3 of the books (2 of the Sutra translations and Desikachar's Heart of Yoga) usually live either in my back pack or on the small rolling stand next to my computer (which is also where the manuals from my teacher training are currently residing).

So, without further ado, here is my yoga book shelf:

Clicking on the picture should make it bigger and you should be able to read all the titles. However, if you can't read all of them and are curious about what some of them are, just ask.
Want to play too? What's on your yoga book shelf?

Hip Hop Yoga and Vairagya

2011-08-26T13:53:00.000-04:00

Last night, I did something very uncharacteristic. Instead of exploring the Advanced Vinyasa class I had initially planned on, I went to a Hip Hop Yoga class. For those who have never been in a Hip Hop Yoga class think blaring hip hop music (so loud that the teacher has to wear a mic so that students can hear her), crowded room, lots of "flow" in the sequence, abdominal work and lots of sweat.

So, what in the world is someone who just finished a training that is focused heavily on alignment and tradition and who regularly practices Ashtanga (where there is no music and a heavy emphasis on using the sound of your breath as a guide) and who does not particularly enjoy hip hop music doing taking a Hip Hop Yoga class?! Well, I'll tell you.

#1). I realized that I was beginning to have an "aversion" to it. Aversion is one of the kleshas (a.k.a "obstacles") listed in the Yoga Sutras as preventing someone from acting correctly and is one of the causes of suffering, and, basically, it prevents you from fully experiencing yoga (at least that's my understanding of it). So, aversion, is usually associated with identifying with a painful experience. For a very simple example: you tried broccoli at one point in your life, hated it and decided that you were just somebody that hates broccoli and doesn't even attempt eating it ever again (even though it's good for you). Or, this is one way prejudice can be explained. You have one painful or unpleasant experience with one type of person, decide that all people of that particular type will be just like that and then end up treating them all poorly because of the one interaction with that first person. You carry the hurt/painful/unpleasant experience with you, as a part of you, and allow it to influence/color your actions towards people and things. So, what does this have to do with Hip Hop Yoga? I don't particularly care for hip hop music. I think I have all of about 5 hip hop type songs in my library of music. I don't like the lyrics, the culture or behavior that usually accompanies it. With regards to combining it with yoga, I understand that using that kind of music helps bring in a lot of people who might not otherwise try yoga, but it also strikes a nerve with the part of me that is getting annoyed at the "watering down" of yoga. However. The person who was teaching this class is a friend of mine and I've been wanting to take a class of her's for a while, especially after really listening to her teach the class on Tuesday night while I was running the front desk at the studio. She wasn't just calling out poses and leading people through a sequence, she was actually teaching them yoga. The problem was, "I hate hip hop music!...And just really loud music in general!" I think it was at that point that I realized what this was turning into...that I had such an aversion to the music and what it represented that it was preventing me from taking a class from a friend and from learning from her. That is when a preference or dislike for something becomes a klesha.

#2) I was talking with someone at the condo earlier that day about doing things outside your comfort zone. For a lot of people, sitting in silence is really hard. I'm well accustomed to it. It is not usually hard for me to concentrate in silence or find that sense of "dropping-in" during a yoga class when there is no music. Many times, I prefer it--especially after my experience in the Mala. So, I realized that my challenge isn't practicing in silence--it's practicing among noise. That reminded me of something I read in one of the many yoga books that I had to read during the training: that it is one thing to find concentration or bliss (or whatever) in an ashram, or holy place, or on a mountain top, but it is quite another to find it in the middle New York City. I think it's also similar to the concepts talked about in sutra 1.12:

"Both practice and nonreaction are required to still the patterning of consciousness (Chip Hartranft translation)." Or, as another translation puts it, "The mind can reach the state of Yoga through practice [abhyasa] and detachment [vairagya] (Desikachar translation)."

It's the idea of not reacting to the things that happen around you, of not getting attached to the experience. Chip Hartranft describes it as "The will to observe experience without reaction...the willingness to let a phenomenon arise without reacting to it." So, this just seemed like it was an appropriate challenge: could I still use my breath, still keep my focus and attention to my alignment and still do my own practice without reacting to the hip hop music, or being in a super crowded room? Not only did I start seeing that this would be a challenge in non-reaction, or detachment, but it would also require me to take my concentration to another level.

#3). After listening to her class on Tuesday night, it also just sounded like a lot of fun. And, as Jennie said during the training, "fun is a good reason to do something." Even my Ashtanga teacher has said during class, "yoga is supposed to be fun, if you don't have fun, then you won't come back...and then we would miss you." I just realized how serious I was getting about things and that it was starting to make me unhappy. Something I wrote in my application to the YogaWorks training was that yoga has a tendency to get very serious, so it's important to balance it with a light heart. This was an attempt to remember that.

So, with all that in mind, I went to Hip Hop Yoga class night with the "intention" of being open to what was happening in the class but detached enough from the hip hop yoga to hear it. The class was fantastic, just my pace. It ended up being really small for that class--maybe 70 people instead of the usual 100--and fairly mellow (again, when compared to usual classes). My friend could tell that most of the people there were feeling very low energy--they were super quiet, very uncharacteristic of the "hip hop yogis." So, she still did enough strength and ab work to make us sweat (since that is what the majority of people coming to that Hip Hop Yoga class are looking for) but not enough to kill everyone in the room...just enough to wake them up. She's a very talented teacher who really takes care of her students--both with her attention and with her choice of instructions. It was like she knew just what to say to get them to take care of themselves during the class--Jennie would call it "making them take responsibility for their own practice." And you can tell that she puts a lot of thought and effort into her classes, that she doesn't just throw them together at the last minute. I think she altered what she was going to teach a little bit because of everyone's energy, but that's the mark of a good teacher. She also incorporated silence in all the right spots and did a fun thing during the Surya Namaskar section: she shut the lights off. The only light in the room was from the candles and outside street lights. One of the "limbs" or steps in yoga is "pratyahara," also known as sense withdrawal. According to one book I've read, that is something that just happens as a result of increasing your concentration, but this was a good way to start introducing the idea--without even saying that's why it was happening! Sneaky, sneaky :)

I was also really happy to see that I found my concentration again. My friend said that I was "super mindful in my practice." Wednesday night that concentration was missing, like I wasn't entirely present. Last night, I was much more present and totally focused on what I was doing. After a while it was like I was barely registering the music that was being played--which is exactly what I was working towards. I was also reminded of something else--something I first told someone last year and try to live by but, immediately after the training, was forgetting: "it's all yoga." Last year, I told someone that there were many different styles of yoga because there are many different types of people, so people need different ways to connect to it. But, that they were all basically trying to teach the same things. I could hear it in my head Wednesday night, "I don't want this, I want the way they taught in my training!" Even though a lot of the language was the same. Jennie had told us that there is a tendency for the YogaWorks training to turn you into a little bit of a "yoga-snob," where you won't settle for anything that's not as good as or as similar to a YogaWorks style class or instructor, but that it eventually wears off. "Besides, it's all yoga." The Hip Hop Yoga class was a good reminder of that. It was a really great experience and a great learning lesson. My friend is a good teacher and I could definitely see myself in that class again--hip hop music and all.

Post-yoga teacher training: Day 4

2011-08-25T10:10:00.000-04:00

Ok, so apparently my sensitive post-yoga teacher training haze lasted only 3 days, lol. I've now entered the stubborn, I-miss-the-way-I-learned-it phase, lol. I went to a Vinyasa class last night with a teacher that I like and I had a mixed reaction to it.

First off, I was so excited to hear her use similar alignment language! I don't know if that's a new thing or if I just never heard before because I wasn't listening for it, but it was comforting to hear it nonetheless. I felt a little weepy during the beginning of class, especially coming into the Surya Namaskar section. I really just missed the training, a lot. I missed the super detailed instructions, the longer holds, the simple but purposeful moves that we did, the smaller group that allowed for more personal attention, and the sequencing of a YogaWorks class. Everything in the sequences during the training had a purpose, even when we set up our props served a purpose. It could very well be that it's the same in other classes and I just don't know it, but those were my thoughts last night. I was also craving silence! After the sensitivity faded off during the Surya section, I really wanted the music off, or at least lower, so that I could hear my breathing. I was talking with another teacher prior to the class and I told her about doing the Mala in "silence" and she said that there is not enough silence in yoga these days. I hear that. During the class I was also craving my Ashtanga practice and I'll be returning to it probably on Monday.

I really miss the training and I want the learning to continue (which makes me a little annoyed that there is no YogaWorks in Boston to serve that purpose...yoga field trip to NYC? Maybe...). So, now I think I'm starting to feel out the best way to do that. The Ashtanga practice stays. It's my foundation and I had no idea how much I was learning from it or how strong it was making me until I went through the training. The practice and the way it's taught feels like such a rarity in the Yoga world and it feels important to keep it alive and carry it with me. But, the training also made something else abundantly clear: I need to hear instructions. Not just to aid me if I ever decide to teach, but also because that is one of the ways that I learn best--that's one reason I didn't like distance learning courses in college. So, I'm checking out classes and really listening to the teachers words as well as paying attention to their sequences. I have to start making up my hours at work that I missed during the training, so, sadly, I won't be able to go to Natasha's public classes for a while. But, tonight I'll be checking out an Advanced Vinyasa class with the same teacher from last night. It's a smaller class and I'm hoping for not just more "advanced asanas" but also for more instruction--teach me about the yoga, please, don't just tell me what pose to go to. That's what I'm looking for right now, something to pick up where the training left off. We'll see what turns up.

Post-yoga teacher training: Day 3

2011-08-24T14:00:00.000-04:00

It's been an interesting 3 days since the end of yoga teacher training. Surreal, yes, definitely. But I've also felt very sensitive. Monday was rough. I felt very raw and hyper-sensitive. I actually spent the better part of the morning crying. It was hard to even exactly name why I was crying. It just felt like a really painful heartache, like I had lost something really special to me. It took a lot of effort for me to go to work that morning, I just didn't feel like I had the energy to function in the "real" world. Which made me very grateful that I was no longer working at my old job in retail security--I couldn't imagine having to do that job or work in that environment after the day that I had on Sunday. I didn't realize how much it took out of me. I had said in a previous post that the Mala felt like the culmination of everything that I had learned in the training. The whole last day felt like the culmination of the entire training. It took everything that I had in order to get through that day. All of my emotional strength to get through the rest of the day without breaking down into tears after such a disappointing practicum. All of my physical strength to get through nearly 4 hours of asana practice (2 hours for the practicum sequences, about the same for the Mala) and all of my mental strength to stay so focused and present during the Mala. Although, maybe that was a different kind of strength or effort, because at some point, the mind left and all that was left was intense focus. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but that's what it felt like. Mix-in the range of emotions that I was feeling and I felt like I had no energy left the next day.

Thankfully there were 4 kids joyously running rampant around the condo building playing hide-and-seek, because silence on Monday was very hard. Because when it was silent, I felt that same heartache that I did that morning. I went to the yoga studio that evening to take a gentle class. Even though my body actually felt very strong despite doing 108 Sun Salutations in a row, it was still tired. I could feel it whenever I tried to exert any energy, the muscles were fatiguing quicker than usual. Which totally makes sense--that must have been the equivalent of running a marathon! I saw my Ashtanga teacher at the studio and she checked in with me (both about the last day of training and about a medical issue that came up during the last week and a half). I told her about how badly the practicum went and then how amazing the Mala was and that it was like being in the best version of a Mysore room. She gave me a high-five and said, "Thanks for representing!" It was truly such an honor to be able to represent and share that practice. I'm excited to get back to practicing it--but not yet. She told me to come back whenever I was ready, which is what I needed to hear, because I feel like it's going to be a little while before I practice again (in my world, that means probably a week, lol). I went to a Yin class that night, and that was pushing it. Not physically, Yin is not a physically demanding practice. Emotionally, it was very hard to just sit with myself and silence. After the day that I had on Sunday and the whirlwind that was these last few months, that was asking a lot.

I made a big change in my life in order to do this training. Yes, that change needed to happen anyways, but it was signing up for the training that eventually made it happen. Now I find myself in a similar place that I was in when I graduated from college, unsure of what direction to take. One thing that was really nice about the training (aside from getting to completely immerse myself in something that I love) was that it gave me direction, something that I hadn't had for the last 2 years. I think a lot of the heartache that I'm feeling is also realizing how much, somewhere along the way, I had started to believe that maybe I was "supposed to teach yoga." I didn't realize how much I had been hoping that something would click in my head and I would be able to do everything that everyone told me I "should be doing." Only to find out, that I'm no where near ready for it, or if I even actually want it. I almost think that I have been so desperate for direction that I let myself believe something and try for something before I even knew if it was something I wanted. That's one reason I think it will be a little while before I practice again. Right now, that's asking a lot. Even just running through a single round of a Sun Salutation or a single down dog is enough to bring tears to my eyes. I don't have the energy for it right now.

I'm feeling more stable than I was on Monday, but I can feel that it wouldn't take much to make me lose it. So, I'm "sitting with it" as much as I can tolerate and waiting for the "all-clear" from my body and mind. And, obviously, writing about it. I tend to forget things very easily, especially if they were stressful--that's my mind's "coping mechanism." But, I don't want to forget this, what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling right now. I don't want to languish in it; but this was a big thing in my life, and I want to remember what happened.

Last Day of Yoga Teacher Training (Part 3 of 3): Closing Circle

2011-08-22T17:42:00.000-04:00

It felt like there was so much that I went through on the last day of yoga teacher training, that I had to break it up into 3 sections. As this is number 3, there are two before this one: the first about my teaching practicum, the second about the Mala that we did afterwards.
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After the Mala, we breaked for about 30 minutes and then we came back to the room and formed a circle, much like we usually do after our morning practice to discuss the sequence that we did. Except this time the inside of the circle was cleared of mats, props, water bottles and anything else that might have been in the area. On Saturday, Natasha gave us 3 index cards and on each of them we were supposed to write these things:

1. A sutra from the Yoga Sutras that either resonates with us or that we feel we need to work on
2. Something that we are taking with us from the training
3. Something that we are leaving behind (this is why the circle was empty. There was a small basket for us to place those cards so that we would have the support of the whole group in "leaving it behind." The teacher threw them away afterwards, I would have preferred a ceremonial fire, but that works just as well, lol)

I was back and forth on which sutra I wanted to write on that card. The first 3 sutras have been speaking to me a lot lately. They're so simple, but, at the same time, they're what the entire Yoga Sutras is about. In the first 3 sutras, you get everything in a nutshell: who, what, where, when, and why. The entire rest of the Yoga Sutras (as I understand it right now) is trying to explain the "how," with recurring emphasis on what the first three are trying to tell you.

The first sutra, "Atha Yoganusasanam," Now begins the study/practice of yoga, gives you the where and the when of the yoga. When and where do you practice it? Now. Right now, wherever you are, whenever you are. It's not just reserved for the 90 minutes in a yoga class. I was telling myself that a lot during the last couple of weeks when my nerves started freaking out over the tests. That this is the real yoga practice. Obviously, this isn't my first time dealing with stress. But, it is the first time that it really feels like I have to use a different method of dealing with it. From running, I learned how to deal with stress by ignoring sensation and continuing to keep moving. Useful in many ways, but not when you need your full attention and brain to be working, that kind of disassociation feels like it closes off access to a part of your brain that you need. Could just be me, but that's my take on it. From karate, I learned to tense up in anticipation of an attack and start anticipating possible counter moves and how I might handle things. Again, very useful way of dealing with some things, but not when you need to stay calm and react to the things that are happening in the present. And that is what the yoga asks us to do: to be open enough to feel through all of the sensation to find the calm "still point" and then act from that place as whatever the present situation asks for. As you may have noticed from the first posting of the "last day of yoga teacher training," I have not figured out how to do that yet, lol. How to take that part of my yoga "off the mat." So, I didn't feel very comfortable with the idea of talking about an idea that I couldn't really access myself. The second sutra, "Yogas Citta Vritti Nirodhah," Yoga is the calming/restraint of the fluctuations of the mind, tells you the "what" of yoga. Literally, "Yoga is...." It also tells you, in that one sutra, that Yoga isn't an end point, it's a process, an action: "the calming/restraint of..." Pretty significant little detail ;-)

But it's the third one that tells you why you practice it, and for me, it's all about the why. Without the why you do something, everything else has very little meaning. "Tada drastuh svarupe 'vasthanam," Then the Seer [Self/pure consciousness] abides in its own nature." This is the sutra that I wrote on the card. I went into the yoga teacher training feeling a little unclear of exactly what I was looking for. Did I want to teach? No, not really. Could I see myself doing it at some point in the future? Possibly. It's pretty clear right now that it is not something I am ready for. More knowledge, deepen my practice, etc. Yes, a lot of that. But I think now it was to remind me of why I keep practicing. With all the turmoil of the last year and the uncertainness of my future, it was hard to remember why I kept putting myself through the practice when sometimes, it wasn't even enjoyable. This is why. Because when the mind is calm and quiet, you can feel and hear your true, big S "Self." This is the part of you that never changes and is always there, despite whatever jobs you work, crises you go through or body parts that are injured. There is always a part of you that is pure and free of labels, fears, habits and prejudices and knows exactly "what to do." The whole point to doing all this yoga is to find and realize which is the big S "Self" and then act from that place. It has only been when I practice yoga that I really feel that connection. For however long, either the entire 90 minutes of a class or just the 5 at the end, I could usually find a point when I--big S "Self"--feel totally present. During those times, I never want the practice to end. That is the "why" I practice, and it feels important to remember it.

The thing that I am leaving behind...is too personal to share on here. But, I will just say that it is something that has caused great inner turmoil that I have been working very hard to free myself from for the last 2 years or so. This year, it loosened its grip a lot. Now, all it feels like I have to do is let it go and calmly walk away. No big drama, no big battle. Just done, served its purpose. That is what I left behind.

The thing I am taking with my from this training: my home practice. I've never really had one and the small amount that I did ceased to exist once I started practicing Mysore Ashtanga. I had "my" practice that I did every morning, I didn't "need" to do anything else. On the contrary, that is not my practice. I practice the Ashtanga series, yes. But I don't practice it my way. Not that there is anything wrong with that. If anything, after this training my appreciation and respect for Ashtanga has grown. But I have also had to practice a lot on my own--at home--in order to write the sequences for the training. And I discovered something: I practice differently when I am at home and no one is watching. I'm usually completely present and always give my best effort when I'm in studio classes. But there's a part of me that only shows up when I practice at home--the "inner teacher." When I'm in a class, that part of me is usually silent, largely because I'm letting myself be told what to do, rather than explore things and figure that out for myself. When I'm at home, I hold things longer and the poses actually somehow feel less strenuous. I also play and experiment with things in my practice when I am at home (like using blocks for my jump-throughs and using my camera to get a better sense of what my body is doing). None of that is present when I am in a class. The classes are important, because that's when I learn from my teachers. But I don't think that the real learning is setting in because I don't practice at home. It's as though I don't really practice something until I do it at home--away from outside influences.

So. We shared our sutras and then ran out of time to share anything else. But we did take the time to quietly drop our things to "leave behind" in the basket. We said "namaste" to each other and then we were done. We took group photos, which I hope to see soon, and spent several minutes sharing hugs, appreciation, etc...all the usual things that you do when you're saying good-bye to a group of people that you've shared an intense experience with (though with far more headstands and tree poses). It was very hard to say good-bye to Jennie. I really liked her teaching style and I learned a lot from her, I am sad that she teaches in another state. However, that other state is not that far away...a yoga road trip could definitely be in order ;-)

All in all, it was an amazing experience, though not quite in the way I expected it to be. I didn't come out "enlightened" or suddenly realizing that "I want to be a yoga teacher." Just with a stronger sense of what I was doing and what I was capable of, with a stronger sense of Self ;-)

Last day of Yoga Teacher Training (Part 2 of 3): The Mala

2011-08-22T14:21:00.000-04:00

So, after the practicum finished, my nerves were fried. I felt so emotionally unsteady that I didn't know how I was going to get through the rest of the day without breaking down. Enter the Yoga Mala.

I've done a Mala before, with Natasha actually. It's 108 straight Sun Salutation A's, and it was hard. The first time I did it with Natasha, my shoulders started aching around the mid-to late 20s. There was no consistency to how I did them (step back vs. jumping; low cobra vs up dog, dolphin vs. down dog, etc) and my hamstrings and shoulders felt like a wreck the next day. This past Saturday, my right shoulder started bothering me again, and it felt like a struggle to hold down dog. So, that combined with my unsteady emotions and fried nerves, I was not sure how well this one was going to go. I was pleasantly surprised. It was magic.

I ended up practicing between Jennie (the trainer I've been with during the last 3 weekends) and Tamara (teaching assistant and fellow Mysore Ashtangi). Usually, Natasha treats to a rarity in the YogaWorks world: music, played during the 108 suns. However, the music gods were not on our side as no one could figure out how to get the stereo and Ipod to work. So, we practiced in "silence," no talking outside the one person saying the number of the sun that we were on (she was pregnant and practicing made her overheat). It was like the best possible example of a Mysore class. I felt like it was so much easier to "drop in" to the flow of the suns, as well as to hear and feel my own breath...which is the whole reason Ashtangis and other similar styles practice without music. The "silence" felt like it heightened all of the other senses: the sound of everyone moving, of my breath and Tamara's breath (Ashtangis tend to be louder breathers, lol), the cars and the Duck boats outside, the gentle, steady count of the Suryas, the breeze coming in through the windows. It was very peaceful, very calming. Just what my nerves needed.

I was also pleasantly surprised at how strong I felt. I ended up not modifying. I started out by stepping back and lowering to a low cobra, pass through all fours and then to down dog. Jennie was actually doing the same thing. I kept stepping back and lowering until about sun number 54 (I started moving between chaturanga and up dog somewhere between 20 and 30, and added the jump forward from down dog somewhere between 30-40, I think). Jennie started jumping to chaturanga before I did, but I waited until my body felt ready to add the jump back. And here's a funny thing: the jumps make it easier. It felt like less muscular effort to jump forward and back than it did to step. It certainly helped to build up the rhythm of the flow. Once I started doing the full Surya A (jumps, chaturangas, up dogs) I feel like I "dropped in" even further. The whole time, my primary focus was on my breath. Not just in keeping it consistent and steady, but letting it help support the weight of my body, so my arms and shoulders wouldn't get as tired. And it felt so much smoother and easier than it did back in January during the first time. I'm sure I'm probably physically stronger than I was then, but I also feel like I was really being supported by Jennie and Tamara...like they were my "wing men" (well, wing women, lol).

Speaking of being supported and moved by something aside from my own efforts, there was something really cool that happened towards the end. Somewhere in the mid-90s, after seeing Jennie resume stepping back to plank somewhere in the 80s, I thought I should probably start stepping back because (a) my shoulder was starting to ache, and (b) we were almost done, so I thought I should start bringing the energy down. From the moment I stepped my leg back, I could feel that it was wrong. I felt like I had been moving along a steadily flowing river and decided to stop and go against the current. I evened out on the other side during the next sun and then resumed jumping, doing full Surya Namaskar As until the very end. It was like something said, "No. You keep jumping." I have never felt that kind of energetic connection before, it felt like such a gift and I feel so touched to have been able to experience it.

When we finished our 108 suns, Natasha gave us the go ahead to do whatever we needed to cool ourselves down. My first thought, "bend the knees." So I held Utkatasana for several breaths. Aside from needing to bend my knees after so many forward bends, my energy still felt really high. After Utkatasana, wide-legged, extremely bent-knee Pada Hastasana (where you stand on your palms, usually in a straight-legged forward fold). Boy, did my hands need it! After we finished the suns, I tried to move my fingers and my hands were so tight it felt like I had been clenching them for several hours! I didn't realize how strongly I had been grounding my palms into the floor--which was needed in order to keep me from sinking into my shoulders. What followed was a mix-up of Ashtanga binded-twists to release the back and shoulders and gentle hip-openers and a modified Viparita Karani (legs up the wall, except in the middle of the room with the sacrum supported on a block--because I wasn't near a wall). It felt hard to settle into savasana when it was finally time, like my energy was still too high. When I finally started to settle, that's when the tears came. This time, I just let them come, quietly, but I let them come. All the frustration and disappointment from the practicum, the confusion as to what to do next/where do I go from here, and the sadness at the training ending...they needed to be let go.

When we sat up, I felt calm and I felt strong. I also felt like I had experienced something so special, as I said before, like it was such a gift. Everything: the Mala itself, getting to practice next to a teacher I came to really admire and next to my "fellow Ashtangi," I feel like she's been quietly supporting me during this whole training; doing the Mala in silence, it was like I got to share everything that I love about a Mysore practice with my fellow trainees (even though I had no control over the music not playing). Me, Jennie, Tamara and even Natasha (who was to the right of Jennie) were totally in sync during many parts of the Mala. It was really cool to be moving at the same pace and in the same rhythm as the people that I admire--like there was no difference between us. This was definitely one of the highlights of the training, almost like it was the culmination of everything that I had learned. I feel so amazingly grateful for that experience and to see that there is that kind of strength in me--both physical strength and to be able to connect to that energy. It's a very good feeling, a very special gift :)

Last day of Yoga Teacher training (part 1 of 3): the practicum

2011-08-22T13:31:00.000-04:00

Fini. Yesterday, I completed my first 200-hour yoga teacher training.

Today feels kind of surreal--a little bit like it did after I graduated from college; with a "what now?" kind of feeling. Especially after the day I had yesterday.

Yesterday was the practicum--where we have 5 minutes to teach one pose to the whole group, with our 2 teachers and the teaching assistant watching and critiquing. Contrary to my usual response to having to teach, I actually felt really confident the day before--when we had to practice teaching it to each other. I was quite surprised. It felt natural and easy, I felt calm and oddly confident. On Sunday morning, that feeling remained. I even practiced teaching it to a friend of mine who took the same type of training last year and I said something about the pose that she said she never thought of before. So, I was feeling really good, like I really understood it and had something I wanted to share about it. The practicum started and I still felt fine. One by one everyone went up to teach their pose in the sequence. And little by little, I could feel my nerves rising. I thought, "No, no, no! We got this, we're fine! Breathe, relax the shoulders, we're fine!!"

Unfortunately, that strategy did not work. I got up there and I felt like I was a shaking bundle of nerves speaking in a robot voice. There was an odd sort of calmness too, but only in the sense that it felt "out-of-body," like I wasn't really present. I walked around, gave the instructions that I had been giving, gave some random adjustments without really "seeing" what I was doing--but I did not feel like I was there, like I wasn't in control of what I was doing. I believe the technical term for it is "disassociating," which is not an uncommon "escape route" for me. I finished and Natasha (the primary trainer and the one I had for the first 3 weekends of the training) looked at me and said, "you were nervous, right?" Yes, I was nervous. She said, "you love yoga, we all know that. And you have a 'sweetness' about it. But you have to find a way to calm your nerves so that can come out when you teach." There was so much that I didn't say that I should have. I understood the pose, but I couldn't teach it. Basically, I was telling people what to do, but not how to do it--and that is what "teaching" means, telling people "how" to do something. Jennie (the teacher I've had for the last 3 weekends and the one who has seen me do the most practice-teaching) gave her feedback next. She said that it may not seem like a lot, but she remembered how I was when she first came. She said that I've gone from inarticulate and barely able to get words out of my mouth, to a robot voice--that's improvement. The teaching assistant, Tamara, empathized, as an Ashtangi, because our practice is silent, we don't regularly hear "how to do" something.

I appreciated all of it, but I was disappointed in myself. I had told myself the week or so before hand, that if I just managed to get words out of my mouth that made sense, I would be satisfied. That was before this past Saturday, when I felt so confident and clear going in. And yes, I practice a lot of Ashtanga, but I didn't start out that way and I still take other classes where they do tell you what to do. Although, now that I think about it, maybe that's part of the issue, that all the non-Ashtanga classes that I take tell me "what" to do but not very often "how" to do something--or at least not as specific as they do in the YogaWorks world. Either way, I was disappointed in myself. My pose was a little less than halfway through the sequence and it felt like so much work to stay there and keep practicing with the rest of the group through the practicum. I could feel the tears brimming behind my eyes and it was so hard to hold it all in. But I did, somehow I managed to get through the rest of the practicum to support my fellow trainees. I finally let some of it go during our brief savasana after the practicum, but a lot of the remaining day felt like a struggle to stay present and to keep my emotions in check.

I passed the practicum, but it didn't feel earned. The purpose of the practicum is to see if you are capable of teaching. I clearly showed that I wasn't. Passing this portion of the program does not feel like an accomplishment, it doesn't feel like I deserve it.

Hard realizations in the "final stretch"

2011-08-17T12:45:00.000-04:00

This past Sunday of yoga teacher training was a bit of an awakening for me. I felt the blunt truth of what I've been saying for a while now: I'm not ready to teach. This past Sunday we had to teach one-hour privates to one of our fellow-trainees. We partnered up, my partner picked the pose, I wrote the sequence and taught it to her, in theory. In reality, it didn't feel like there was a whole lot of teaching being done on my part. Half the time it barely felt like there were adequate words coming out of my mouth. It wasn't a "freeze" like it has been in the past--that was actually something that went surprisingly well. When all of your attention is focused on the person in front of you, there's simply no room for your nerves. So, no, it wasn't that I couldn't get cohesive, clear and fluid words out of my mouth because my nerves had frozen my brain. It was more like I couldn't find the words to transfer what I knew in my head out of my mouth. I also couldn't remember my sequence, even though it was fairly simple, I had to keep looking at my paper. It's like my brain couldn't handle remembering the sequence I wrote and trying to teach. So, that I part I figured would probably happen. Not freezing and not feeling nervous was a pleasant surprise. I'll get to my "blunt truth" in just a minute, but the other truth that was really comforting to know is that (A) I know how to write a sequence that works, and (B) the poses work for themselves. Even if I can't get the knowledge out of my mouth in a spoken form, if they're properly aligned and sequenced well, the poses speak for themselves (which is probably one reason Mysore Ashtanga works so well). I may not have been able to get too many words out or done any "authentic teaching" (as opposed to just saying words), but it still worked. My partner told me at the end, that the savasana was one of the best ones that she'd had in a long time. That's a huge compliment seeing as who we're both learning from and who I know she takes classes with. So, at least I got that part right :)

So, the "blunt truth," even though I understand the yoga and it's energy, I'm not ready to actually teach it. I can teach you one pose, but not a whole class. It feels like I lack the ability to pull everything together and actually apply it. What's weird is that even though I kept saying "I don't want to teach," after hearing so many people say, "You should teach...You're going to be a teacher...It's your 'calling' to teach yoga...I think you would be a great teacher...Tell me when you start teaching, I want to take your class, etc..." at some point, I actually started believing it. I actually felt sad realizing and admitting that I am no where near ready to teach yoga. Again, at some point, after hearing so many people that I admire and respect say it, I started believing it. It was a nice idea, a nice dream. Unfortunately, it's not reality.  At this point, I am tired of and don't want people trying to encourage me to teach just to make me feel better--I want people to be honest with me and tell me the truth. I would rather hear, "No, Tara, I don't think you're ready to teach," than have someone say, "You should teach!" only to find out that it's actually not something I am capable of doing. Just because someone can do something well and enjoys it does not mean that they're capable of teaching it.

Which begs the question, "What now?" Was it all for nothing? No, I've learned a lot and simply taking the training has been a step forward. If this training accomplished anything it was kicking my butt out Saks, where I felt like I was stagnating and dying. What now? I kind of feel like I've returned to a similar place that I was when I graduated from college--spinning my wheels without any direction. Well, to be perfectly honest, technically I'm not done yet, I still have one weekend left--this Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Saturday is the in-class exam, Sunday is the practicum where I teach one pose to the entire group for 5 minutes. It's Wednesday, I won't know what pose I'm teaching until Friday. It's a little aggravating to not have more time to practice teaching whatever posee it's going to be, but at the same time, I like it better this way...less time to stress over and nit-pick it to death :) I keep trying to remember what everyone tells me--don't repeat a script, just share what you know, but at this point, I just want it to be over. I'll miss the group and being completely immersed in exploring and discussing something I enjoy (did I mention my teacher had me to a walk-over from Urdhva Dhanurasana to the other side in something resembling Uttanasana!--basically it was a back walk-over.  I ended up landing in something more like a squat than Uttanasana, but it was an awesome experience!) but I will be glad once the tests are done. After nearly 20 years of school and the emotionally turbulent years I've had since then, I can't handle that stress anymore, even in the smallest form.

4 more days. That's all that's left.  "Catch you on the flip side" :)

Gearing up for the final push

2011-08-07T22:49:00.000-04:00

2 Weeks. 14 days.

That's how much time I have left of my very first yoga teacher training. It's really hard to believe that it's been 5 months--since the start of the training, since I left my job at Saks that I felt like I couldn't leave for one reason or another. It still feels kind of surreal. I've gone back to the store a couple of times and some people still had no idea that I had left! They thought I had been on some really long vacation or leave of absence! But it's felt really good to go back and just talk with the people I used to see everyday--without wondering if I was being watched on the cameras, without wondering if someone was stealing while I was talking to people, without wondering if I was going to get in trouble for being friendly and talking to the people there (since I worked in security, it was ok for me to "act" friendly, but not actually be friends with the people there). Now, when I talk to the same people there, there's a lightness and openness about it, and that is really nice; there are a lot of really good people who work there. It's also nice to hear so much encouragement from them and how much they have missed having me there. People I rarely talked to (as in, more than just a passing, "hello, how are you doing?" kind of way) gave me the biggest hugs when I came back into the store. It just reminds me that you never know how much the things that you do mean to people, even just being nice. Many of the people who worked there told me that me just simply being nice to them and asking how they were after a full day of dealing with customers was such a welcome relief. And I feel the same now, when I see them. Just them remembering who I am is really nice. I work pretty much entirely by myself these days. Most of the time, I barely notice it. But when I went back and saw all the people that I used to see everyday for over 4 years, I didn't realize how much I was missing it--just simply the contact with other people, didn't even have to be super deep and engaging conversations. I guess I kind of felt the same way some of them did: sometimes, after a full day of sitting in a dark office while waiting and looking for someone to do something wrong, just a simple pleasant interaction with someone brought a lot of light into my day. And now, when I hear so many of them being so excited for me with the training that I'm doing, it means a lot. To hear them say that they think that I will be a great teacher and that they would like to take my classes whenever I start...really means a lot. Even if I don't teach, hearing that people think so highly of me is both uplifting and humbling at the same time.

Speaking of the training (which is what got this post started, lol) it's winding down. I feel this odd mixture of relief and anxiety. A little anxiety for the in-class written exam, and hoping my brain doesn't shut down on me. A lot of anxiety for the 5 minute teaching of one pose (yes...just one pose, lol) to the entire class and the teachers (I don't even know which pose yet). A growing anxiety over the inevitable "what-now?" question that will need to be addressed (but not yet :) ). And a well of relief waiting to be released. That the pressure of the exams will be finished--they're not even that strenuous, but just having the pressure to perform well kind of feels like this constant weight on my chest, however small it may be at times. The relief of not having to have things done by a certain time. It's basically the same relief I felt once I graduated from college--which has been a BIG reason why I have not had the slightest interest in going back to school. I feel like doing that for so long really fried my nerves. I have definitely enjoyed learning and totally immersing myself in something that I'm interested in, but not the pressure to perform well that comes with it. I know that most of it comes from me, but I also feel it coming from outside as well. People think highly of me, which is really nice and, as I said, means a lot to me--but it also stresses me out, I feel like I can't make a mistake. Even though it's been very nice to have something to focus on for these last 5 months, I'll be glad to have that pressure be gone, however slight (or not slightly, lol) it was.

So, what am I doing to relieve some of the anxiousness building up? I'm trying to free up as much space as possible for myself during the last week--so I can focus more of my energy on the teaching portion and less on the littler things. We were given our take-home final last Sunday and I've spent the majority of this past week working everyday on it, and I'm one question away from being finished. This is where I'm really grateful for my current job: I sit at a desk all day long with almost no daily work tasks that need to be done. So, I've been taking my time and working on the final. The sequence that I had to write has been written, practiced and tweaked. The teaching script (a verbatim account of what I would say to teach a given pose...foreshadowing much?) has been written as well and just needs a little editing, same for most of the other short answer questions on the test. I'll finish it up this week along with the actual homework that was given for this past weekend. And here's where I really like how this training is run, as opposed to college: the homework isn't graded. A simple, yes, you turned it in with feedback from the teacher. That's it. And that is one area where I can really relax right now. "It doesn't have to be brilliant, it just has to be right." That's what one of the teachers in my training said this past weekend regarding the final, and it's kind of become my mantra this week, along with "allow yourself to be less than perfect." Sounds cheesy, but it feels really important. There are no GPA's here, no Honor's lists or graduated "Summa, Magna or Cum Laude," just a, "yes, you passed." The final is graded, in order to establish a baseline (70% and up is passing), but it doesn't really matter in the end--except to me of course, lol. I feel like there's always been a lot of pressure on me to "be the best," either from my own expectations, parents, teachers, society, whatever the source, the pressure kind of feels like it's always there, however slight. Allowing myself to not be perfect and not guilt myself for it is both a challenge and a welcome relief.

So, my aim for this week are continuing to free up as much space as possible for me to think and breathe next week (maybe even getting some of the written homework done for this next weekend, I've let go of a lot of the non-essential reading right now, a.k.a "not on final," lol). Especially since these next 2 weekends will be back-to-back (the only time this has happened in the training) and I have Saks-related issue that has followed me and that I have to deal with on Wednesday (not pleased about having to deal with something that is associated with a job that I no longer have, but am very pleased with how Saks is helping me with it). So: keep freeing up/clearing away space this week.

Next week, I think my focus needs to be on doing things that help me stay grounded...so I imagine that I'll be spending a lot of time in the Mysore room, the Ashtanga practice has been feeling very grounding and very strong lately. I'll probably be clinging to my cereal and toast diet, lol. I know, not the healthiest, but it is the most comforting because it's so easy and I know it agrees with my stomach. And I feel like I might actually be talking to people a lot, and maybe even practice teaching whatever pose I get, rather than just writing it out. Because the speaking thing has tended to be the biggest hurdle, lol. And if I'm going to simply get enough words out when I have to teach in the training, I'm probably going to have to talk more just in general, lol...and practice teaching the pose to people. Maybe even talk myself through the pose--which I've done in small amounts a handful of times and is so weird...but I do talk myself through it in my head, does that count, lol? Anyways, I also feel like it's going to be tremendously helpful for me if I can practice before teaching on the last day. The Mysore teacher who usually teaches on Sundays is usually there really early doing her own practice, I might see if she wouldn't mind me coming in as well. If anything, I'll probably get there super early myself and chill in a headstand for 5 minutes--it's amazing how effective and how powerful that pose is, there is a reason that it is called the "king pose!" Whatever it is, I feel like I just need something, to help me pull in, focus and ground myself. Focus, pull-in, center myself and ground...that's the aim for the last week of training.

And now, to sleep and, hopefully, find some rest before I really start this "final push." Keep breathing, "don't get too nervous," that's what my Ashtanga teacher said. I'm working on that :)

Zoning In

2011-07-26T22:28:00.000-04:00

I almost didn't practice tonight. I did my Ashtanga practice this morning, so I didn't really need the movement that much. Though it did feel like I needed something. Enter the ever-wise Nicole. She's a scary insightful teacher and bodyworker who teaches her own version of Forrest Yoga. I say "her own version" because I think it's very different from a "typical" Forrest yoga class. Mostly, I think, in that it's a lot "softer" than a typical Forrest class. Oh she knows how to kick your ass, but I think she understands that you can get people to work more and to work more intelligently by giving them options. She's well known for saying at the beginning of her classes that if you feel like you need to do something completely different from what she is offering to go ahead and do that (within reason, lol). "If your body feels like it needs a 90 minute savasana then go ahead and do that."

Anyways, I was rolling my right glute around on a tennis ball in the lobby of the studio trying to work out a new kink that my body has given me. She asked if I was coming to class and I said that I wasn't sure because I already practiced in the morning. She said, "if you feel like you just want to be in a space with other people and just stretch, you know you can do that in my class." Ok. Didn't take much convincing :-)

My practice ended up being really good. I didn't do any mind-blowing poses--I'm sure to the outside eye it probably looked like I was just laying around on the floor. But it was all super deep internal stuff; just being still in a pose and working slowly and super consciously to engage and release certain muscles in my body. As I mentioned earlier, I have a new body tweak that I am very grateful for: cramped/pinched piriformis on the right side. Brief anatomy aside: the piriformis from about the middle/bottom of your sacrum, across the length of one side of the glute and connects to the top of the femur (thigh) bone. It's purpose is to externally rotate your thigh (turn it away from the mid-line of your body) and to lift it out to the side (a.k.a, "abduct"). When it's tight, it can squeeze the sciatic nerve and literally be a "pain in the ass." (sorry, I couldn't resist the pun, lol). Anyways, that muscle has been feeling pinched ever since I resisted an adjustment during my Ashtanga practice on Monday morning. It's not causing a ton of pain, just feeling pinched and tight. It's also serving at least 2 larger purposes:

(1) It's drawing my attention away from my low back/SI joints. After last week's body work session, I am truly realizing that the majority of the pain and discomfort I feel in that area now is psycho-somatic--where the muscles are still gripping and feeling pain-type sensations in the area that was hurt, even though there is no more strain. Apparently (and kind of obviously, lol) this is very common in areas of chronic injury/pain. The big revelation for me came during the last body work session. We discovered that the intense pain/electric-jolt type sensations that I usually feel whenever someone works on that area disappear or become greatly reduced when I touch/work on the area. Basically, my body is still protecting that area. Marie said that because the area's had pain for an extended period of time, my attention is always there, so part of me is always protecting it. The other indication came when I was working on the area at home. I realized that the "electric" sensation that I did feel when I was working on it was very similar to the sensation I felt when Marie first worked on my hip flexors. The muscles were tight, so my body jumped at her touch. Same thing when I worked on the area. Not pain, not "injury." Tight muscles. That's much more manageable :-) So, realizing all this I'm starting to practice less gingerly (as I would for an injury) and more consciously--being aware of really relaxing the muscles when they don't need to be working and not tightening up in defense all the time. Right, back to the new piriformis tweak. With my attention diverted to a new location in the same general area, the "pain" I usually feel in my SI joint is minimal. Yet another good indication of the pain being psycho-somatic. The rest of the "pain" that I feel there right now is the result of changing things around in that area. Nicole said that now the SI joints will probably feel tender because I'm literally "re-wiring" the area, and that I will probably experience a light feeling of compression due to re-positioning the sacrum and spine. But, it's all just a result of the work...like having sore muscles after a good work-out; the tenderness eventually leaves and you are left with stronger muscles :-)

(2) The new tweak is making me stop gripping the glute muscles all the time and how to use the legs and core more. Because, right now, every time I attempt to grip the glute muscles, I get a twinge in the tush :-) (again, couldn't resist, lol). I spent the whole class period working super consciously and paying attention to the sensation that I was experiencing in that area so that I could learn how to use other parts of my body to accomplish the same actions in the basic poses that I do nearly everyday. The majority of my practice this evening focused first on opening and releasing the glute muscles in restorative/yin poses. I kept my feet on the ground during the abdominal work section and just focused on engaging the correct muscles (a.k.a the abs and the inner line of the legs...not the glutes and the back, lol) without actually doing the movement associated with abdominal exercises. Surprise! You can "do" abs without doing a single crunch :-) When I finally got up to move, my entire focus was on engaging the muscles of the legs (quads, hamstrings, inner leg muscles) and lifting through the core and really using the breath to move and open--and stop using and gripping the glute muscles in every pose. I don't think I truly realized how much I do it until I got not-so-pleasant sensations every time I did it, lol! I'm even engaging them in downward facing dog--when your glute muscles have nothing to do! Also, the whole dropping the tailbone action (to lessen the curve of your lower back and stretch the hip flexor area) is very hard to do when you're squeezing your glutes! Oddly enough, after all this work tonight, it actually feels like my torso got taller!

It's wildly fascinating and kind of fun to work this deeply--talk about doing something to clear and focus your mind! It's really cool to work on this level--to zone in so much that you can feel and access different muscles and feel which parts of your body feel kind of "dead," or "dull." And it's always fun to actually feel your breath moving through your muscles (well, at least some of them, lol). At one point, I swear I could actually feel the pulse of my body. Very cool.

During the philosophy reading of my homework, the person who did the translation for the Yoga Sutras that we are reading talks about actually starting to "welcome" pain, because it is a teacher. I feel like I'm really starting to understand that: my body is trying to guide me into correct movement and alignment by giving me "tweaks" and "issues" to work with and explore. If this new "tweak" is still here come this weekend during teacher training, I will definitely be grateful. Friday is Urdhva Dhanurasana day (Upward facing bow pose in English; "wheel" in any class non-Ashtanga based class). This is a pose where I know I grip the glutes and it's very hard to me to access the other muscles that support the same action in the pose as the glutes (but without the restriction that comes with gripping your butt). I would definitely appreciate such clear inner guidance :-)

End of yoga teacher training weekend 4: More musings...

2011-07-17T21:52:00.000-04:00

I'm in a very "museful" place these days, lol (new word, I just added it to the dictionary). What's amazing is that for all the confusion and conflict I feel about the yoga these days, I can never deny one thing--I never want the training weekends to end. I can't believe that it's almost over. Just 3 more weekends, a little over a month, left of the training and then we're finished. It kind of feels like it's just started again, because the other teacher (Jennie) has stepped in and taken over the teaching. It actually kind of reminds of how Jennie described reincarnation. She described it as starting the next life at the place where you left off at the last one, but retaining all of the knowledge and lessons from the last one. That's kind of what this feels like with switching teachers mid-training--like I've left one part behind and started at a new place. Some old patterns have left, some still hang around :) I really like how Jennie teaches, though it's hard to put a finger on exactly what it is about it. It feels like there's more structure and guidance, but it also feels like there's more...freedom? I'm not sure if that's the exact word, but it's kind of that feeling. Also like there's more trust, and kind of like we're closer to the same level. Whereas Natasha is...well, Natasha, lol. She's kind of a big deal in the yoga world. She's amazing, and a really down to earth person, but sometimes it feels like there's some kind of distance there. It could also just be me :)

It also feels like the group of people in the training is starting to come together more--like something has shifted and we've gotten closer to each other. Again, maybe it is just me, and that I've started to become more open and close to the people in my training. But it also feels a little more universal--like the initial groups of friends that formed are crossing and meshing together. I'm not sure how it happened, but it kind of feels like the shift happened during Saturday's philosophy section, after one of the people in the training basically talked about wanting guidance, direction and connection outside of the training--to that same kind of open and deep connection to like-minded people that we have when we're together. It almost seemed like she was at the place I was at for a lot of last year and sometimes still find myself in--not knowing how to live in this world; knowing what we know and experiencing all of the things that we have. How do you go back to living in a world where sometimes everything around you seems superficial and almost fake? Where you feel like you can no longer relate to the people around you and that you used to?

It's definitely scary and feels very isolating and lonely. But, for me, it's by realizing that we're all essentially working towards the same things--and struggling with the same issues. Even the person who seems superficial and consumed by the desire to accumulate the best and most expensive material things. It's not the things that they're truly seeking, it's the feeling that they have when they get it: a sense of worth, respect, connection to similar people, connection to something greater than you, joy, peace, strength and security, love...when you break it down to the bare essentials, to the roots, it really seems like we're all actually searching and craving the same things, it's just expressed differently. I realized it by talking to other people, anyone--not just yoga people. Random people on the trains and buses, co-workers, bosses...when I really listen, with full attention, I literally heard them saying the same things I was feeling and working with. Jennie said that there is a saying that when you're ready and the time is right, your guru will find/come to you--or you will find him/her, something to that effect. I think that's very true and so many times, it comes from completely unexpected places, not just in the yoga world. For example, the more we read about the sutras and how it describes how to relate to people, the more I'm impressed with my former boss. In so many ways, he found and accomplished exactly what the sutras suggest. I don't think I ever realized how much I learned from him or from working in that job. Anyways, my point is that there are many "gurus" out there--experts in their fields who have found peace, ease, clarity and light in areas or times that are dark, scary and confusing; and they exist throughout the world and across vocations, cultures, philosophies, and religions. The challenge is to be open to it not coming from expected places and to be willing to really listen and connect. Even if it's only something you need to hear for a few minutes--rather than months or years of instruction--the information and the person you need to hear it from it out there.

The teaching assistant (Tamara) also said that we all have an inner guru, or teacher. Think about all the things that we have encountered and overcome in our lives thus far--somewhere inside us is an inner compass, or guide, that knows exactly what we need--even if it's outside guidance, it knows where and how to find it. Calming ourselves enough to hear it? Now that's a real challenge! So many old habits exist in our mind and body that block access to it (I found out this weekend that the Sanskrit word for those are called, "samskaras.") I really see it come up in me when it comes to teaching. Formal setting with people watching that I know know more than me and are better than me: I shut down and feel like I don't know what I'm doing or talking about. I feel very stupid, incompetent and weak. Take away the setting and the people and I end up teaching spontaneously to some random person I don't know: the words and knowledge that I've acquired flows out easily, naturally and confidently. It's rather annoying and frustrating that the block and behavioral/emotional pattern exists. But, knowing that the knowledge and capability does indeed exist somewhere inside of me is a huge comfort and encouragement.

And that's the thing, accessing it--that inner guide/teacher or just simply the place of knowledge--requires openness, patience & compassion (yourself included!), the willingness to change (even if you don't know what the change is), a calm mind and the willingness to really listen-both to yourself and the world around you. No matter how frustrated with "the outside world" I get sometimes, I'm always reminded that it is a source of feedback, inspiration and connection, not something to be completely shut out. I have by no means perfected this--or am even at a point where I find it regularly! I catch glimpses of it. But I'm working on it and towards it :)

Bodywork session #3, more musings

2011-07-13T17:01:00.000-04:00

I just had my 3rd session/appointment (whatever you want to call it) with my bodyworker yesterday (her name is Marie, I'm tired of saying "my bodyworker," takes too long, lol). In this meeting we went over pictures that we took from the last appointment. She took a bunch of me standing normally from different angles and in other positions as well as video so we could see what my body did once it started moving. After I got over the immediate, "oh my god, look at the face I'm making! I look like such a geek! I don't like _____ and _____ or ______ about my body," it was really interesting to actually see what my body looks like when I move, or am just standing still:

1. I totally look like I was hunching over, even though I thought I was standing up straight! I could actually see it, my shoulders are rolled forward...that's the tightness of the pectorals that she was talking about
2. I also look like I'm leaning forward, like all my weight is in my toes, even though, again, I thought I was standing vertically! Marie said that I am a very "forward-moving" person, ain't that true! It also has a lot to do with trying to balance out the anterior tilt (which is also very clear in the pictures).
3. The left hip and shoulder are so obviously higher than the right, it's really crazy to actually see it. I've never had issues with either of these things before, it's still so hard to believe. But there is no discounting what I see in the pictures, lol.
4. Interestingly enough, the left shoulder and right shoulder become even when I raise them out to the side in a "T" position. She told me that I need to work on strengthening the muscles that bring the shoulder blade down on that side. I forgot to ask which one that was, lol, and we ended up focusing on something else during the meeting, so we both kind of forgot about it.
5. During squats, I have great upper body position, she was very impressed that I didn't move out of alignment there when she had me raise my arms above my head. She said usually people will start bending or arching in their back to compensate for the weight of their arms. I didn't do that. Gold star there. No star when it came to knee-ankle alignment, I'm way too far forward. One reason she had me do squats was to gauge how strong my glutes are. They're not, lol. That's why the alignment is bad.
6. I need to work on engaging my core. No surprise there, I know it's an issue. She took a picture of me in forearm plank--no core engagement, I'm sticking my butt up in the air. Busted. :)
7. Super shiny gold star for 0 hamstring tension, lol. Thank you Ashtanga, lol. She couldn't believe how open my hamstrings were, lol. No gold star for lifting my head up when I raise up from a forward bend. She videotaped me coming up from a forward bend and literally the first thing I did was look forward. Which is not good for neck or back because I'm compressing the cervical spine. The whole spine (neck included) should be in a straight line when I come up from a forward bend. I'll work on remembering that.

So, those were the highlights of the pictures and videos. The rest of the meeting focused on my hips. She worked on releasing the psoas again. No where near as painful this time or as sensitive. The first time she worked on it I was quite literally twitching at her touch when she worked on the right side, lol. Hardly any issues this time. Huge progress. The other huge thing was discovering just how tight my right quad is. I knew it was tight, but I didn't realize it was that tight. In poses that stretch the quads, it's always a little tight on the right side, but I've always thought it was still pretty open because I could almost "do the full pose." But, apparently I wasn't doing it with the correct tilt in the pelvis. I was taking advantage of already having an arch in my low back. She kept my hips neutral (not letting me tip them forward) and holy cow, the right side was SO tight. I couldn't move my foot in very close (picture knee on bench, bend foot in toward bum...but no arching your back). She had to remind me to breathe because the stretch was so intense. Left side, just fine. She thinks that is a huge issue relating to the low back problem.

When the pelvis tips too far forward, it creates an arch in the low back, thereby compressing the low back. In order to reverse it you need several things: open hip flexors & open quads (if those are tight, they hold your pelvis tipping forward, because that's literally what they are designed to do...bring your pelvis and your thigh towards each other) and strong lower abdominals (to literally curl your tailbone under you and the front of your pelvis up). Problem is...I don't have any of that, lol. Or I have very little. Combine that with the left hip being higher and apparently that's enough to cause problems in the back. One other little fun fact is that some major supporting muscles are not strong enough: gluteus maximus (right side) and gluteus medius (left side). It was very clear in the pictures and video. When she had move up and down in a crescent lunge, my left knee would track more towards the outside more than the right side did--which is indicative of weakness in the gluteus medius--that is the muscle on the outside the hip that helps keep you from collapsing in the hip when you walk, they're basically like hands holding the sides of your hips in place. And apparently, my left one is weaker than my right. Interesting fun fact considering that my left hip is higher than the right. It's almost like I collapse a little on the left side. Lots going on there. It feels like there's a lot of imbalances left over from the foot injury and from attempting to heal the injury and they've never really been addressed. The focus was always on the foot, rather than how it was effecting the rest of the body (which is how this body work is different from physical therapy).

She asked me what I was thinking and feeling when we finished. I said that all this just makes me want to go for a run. My legs (bum included) used to be so strong. I also told her about how I haven't felt like practicing during these last couple of weeks that I've been working with her. She asked why, what would make me want to practice again? Honestly, I'm not sure. Sometimes I feel like the yoga isn't good for my body, or at least that it's not enough; that it needs other things. Again, that's something that I've said before, it just feels like it's becoming much more apparent these days. There's also something else that I told her kind of spontaneously that I hadn't really thought about before, but I think is a big influence. "I feel like I don't know how to move without hurting myself." Part humor, largely not. I had SO many injuries when I ran. Every time. Shall I list them? There's too many, let's not. Though I had far less when I ran cross country. Probably because I tend to run more naturally when I'm out in nature--go figure, lol. I feel like my posture is better and my attitude is better--more relaxed and just enjoying the run. Anyways--lots of injuries from running. Got injured when I played volleyball with friends (hello wrist sprains!). Got injured during a hike. Injured in yoga. Though I didn't actually get injured in rock climbing it definitely contributed to the recent shoulder injury.

"I feel like I don't know how to move without hurting myself." So, this time, I finally stopped. All the other times, I just kept pushing through whatever pain was there. Marie said that was actually very mature and wise. Took a long time to learn it, lol. It still isn't always my first instinct, but I'm learning. But you know what, can't stay immobile forever, you get injuries/issues that way too, lol. When you don't use your body, then the muscles get weak and then you can't even support the weight of your own body in simple, everyday things--like walking--let alone actually exert yourself. The jobs that I have done since I moved here involve very little physical activity. I literally SIT all day long. Even in the security/loss prevention job. No wonder my butt is weak, I sit on it all day! And how good can it be for the low back to constantly have all this weight sitting directly on it? It's not. She also asked me "the question," "Do you like your job?" Whatever, it works for now. I have one, they treat me well, the people I work with are very nice, it's extremely low stress, they pay me well, I have benefits, I can practically do whatever I want (I'm writing this at work), there's very little to complain about. But it is by no means long-term; God I hope it's not long-term. It works for now. Beyond that, I have no idea, and I'm tired of trying to figure it out. So, no doubt there's something to be worked out there. But right now there's something more immediate that needs attention--the yoga.

I'm about half-way done with the training. This weekend is a training weekend and the first one with Jennie Cohen. After this, there are only 3 more weekends, and then I'm done. Assuming I pass the exam, in about a month, I will be certified to teach yoga. And I'm hardly practicing right now. I think the break was much needed but, it's become clearer and clearer that if I continue with the yoga, I have to really change how I practice it. There's just too much going on that can really be addressed in a class setting....or in the Mysore room. How much quad and hip flexor stretching do you see going on in the Primary Series? The shoulder issue I could address in there because it's a subtle action that I need in all the poses, I just have to move slowly and with enough attention to get it. But everthing else just feels like it's something that I can only fully address and work on either in a consistent private session with someone who knows what I need (can we say "expensive") or in a home practice. Which is the one part of yoga that has been the hardest for me to work on. Doing my own practice, consistently, away from studio or teacher. And it's becoming very clear that that's the direction I need to go. I'm not entirely sure why I'm so resistant to it. Possibly because I feel like I'll be losing the connection to the community I've grown to love.

Yeah, I think that's a lot of it. I've spent a lot of time out here on my own, doing everything on my own that it's been nice to be around people and not have to do everything myself--even if it's just having someone else lead me through a yoga practice, lol. But I remember reading an introduction to a book on yoga and the person had said that, "at some point, the only person who could take your further/deeper into your yoga practice is you." It kind of feels like it's getting to that point, if it's not there already. How much of that can you really do when you don't have your own practice. The Ashtanga practice comes close, because I am doing it on my own, but it's still within a certain structure. And I'm not sure that it's really working for me anymore. Also, as I learned from having to do nearly every single track practice on my own during my last season, there's a certain kind of inner strength that can only come from doing your own practice; from finding ways to motivate yourself and push yourself in a healthy and encouraging way without constant outside support. And I feel like I've really lost touch with that. It kind of feels like this is the place I'm supposed to work at right now: how do I have my own practice without completely losing touch with the community that I have grown to love?

Bodywork sessions and what happens when you take away the yoga

2011-07-06T12:42:00.000-04:00

There's a lot swirling around in my head right now and I feel like I need to write about it. Normally, this would be one of the things that I keep to myself, but not this time.

First, a little background: I've hardly practiced during the last couple of weeks. Partly because I've started seeing a body worker/postural-therapist type person and it was recommended to not practice what I usually practice so that the work she is doing has a chance to integrate itself into my body. When I went to see her last Tuesday, my left shoulder was higher than my right and the shoulder muscles were super tight/tense.  I also hold my head too far forward and down, which can strain the erector muscles which run all the way from your neck to your lower back. I was very tight across the "front line of the chest," meaning all the pectoral muscles, and the external muscles of the shoulder were weak. We discovered that my left hip is about a 1/4 of an inch higher than my right one and that the right side of my body is compressed. We also discovered that my pelvis sits in an anterior tilt (meaning there is too much of an arch in my lower back) which is probably contributing to the pain I feel in my low back. In short, for all the yoga that I do, my upper body (from pelvis to head) is far from relaxed (which makes sense given that most of my yoga is very intense on the upper body) and there's a lot of issues in my body that have not really been addressed.

So, this last week, I did one Forrest yoga class on Thursday morning that was a "classic" Forrest yoga class: lots of standing poses, abs, and very few chaturangas and downward dogs. It was a good Forrest class, and probably very beneficial for shoulder rehab, but I didn't leave with that feeling of being relaxed & refreshed that I usually get from a vinyasa-type class. Sunday I practiced the sequence that I had to write for my teacher training. Monday I took a 2-hour "workshop" (a.k.a, regular class that is 30 minutes longer than normal) at my yoga studio. I hadn't really planned on taking it, but they needed sign-in help--when I help sign-in a workshop like this, that also means I get to take it for free. It was a really good class that actually did work on a lot of the things the body worker I'm seeing wants me working on. But other than those three practices--that was it, between last Tuesday and today. Which is very odd for me--much less than I usually practice. It doesn't seem like so little when I put it down on paper, but it sure felt like a long time, lol. Other than that, all I did were the exercises (a.k.a "homework") that she gave me and near 2 mile-walks every day with my friend's dog that I was taking care of.

When I saw her yesterday, she said that I looked "lighter." Not as in weight, but as in my shoulders didn't look as heavy. Which is a good thing, I guess. I looked in the mirror and they definitely didn't look as tight as they did during the first time that I saw her. The exercises she gave me to do definitely feel like they were working on the correct muscles in my shoulder. There's still some pain in there and the muscles feel kind of knotted up, but it also feels like there's more mobility than usually. You know the classic triceps stretch where you raise your arm above your head, bend at the elbow and let your hand fall behind your head? Lately, that one has felt painfully difficult. Since lessening the yoga and working with the body worker, I can now get my arm in that position and actually stretch the triceps muscle. So something is definitely working. Yesterday she focused less on my shoulder and more on the issues in the lower half of my body. She also took a lot of pictures and video so I could see the imbalances in my body--which is actually really cool. It looks like most of the imbalances are in my hips--which makes sense given that one is higher than the other. She also worked on "releasing the foot," a.k.a, standing with a small, hard ball under your foot directly on that tight area between your arch and your heel. Ouch. But afterwards, there was less rolling to the outside of my foot when I walked. The big thing yesterday was the work in the psoas. Oh boy. She literally dug--gently, lol--into my abdomen, under the ab muscles to "release" the psoas muscle. The psoas is a major hip flexor muscle. Basically, it literally connects your torso to your leg. It connects the 5 vertebrae of the lumbar spine (low back) to the upper head of your thigh bone (femur). So: after many years of running and with walking as my primary mode of transportation, it was pretty tight, the right more than the left (which makes sense given that I had to use it to hold up my right leg when I was on crutches). It was mildly painful when she found it (again, she had to dig a little, it's buried beneath the ab muscles) but when she was just holding pressure on it, it was ok...so it wasn't quite as painful as I expected (which means she's good at what she does, lol). However, afterwards, it didn't feel like there was a huge difference, but it definitely felt different--in a good way. It felt like there was more space in that area and, surprisingly, a little less pain in my low back. All the usual muscles around the area of my low back that hurts were still tight, but there was significantly less pain that usual.

I'll be seeing her at least one more time and she's going to attempt to help me strengthen my "core" without my legs or my back muscles taking over. This should be interesting. It's something I've been trying to figure out for a while. I can get the upper abs to work no problem...the lower ones, I swear half the time I can't even feel if they're working. She was telling me to try to "tuck" my tailbone, so that there is less of an arch in my spine, and she said that I was doing it, but I didn't feel it, lol. So, next week should be interesting. She also mentioned something about working the glute muscles, because the right one is stronger than the left, lol. Oh boy. I did laugh a bit during the photo session when she asked me to do a standing forward bend: "bend forward with your arms raised in front of you and try to touch the floor." After a year of practicing the Ashtanga Primary Series I "have no problem with tension in the hamstrings," lol. Sometimes when the hamstrings are really tight, they can pull on the low back and create pain (the hamstrings attach at the sitting bone to the back of the knee). Nope, no tension there, lol; I don't just touch the floor, I rest my whole hand on it. It's the little things that make me happy :)

Anyways, with all this work being done on my body and not as much physical activity as I'm used to, my head's in kind of a weird place. What's odd is that I thought I would miss the yoga more than I am. Surprisingly, there's no restless urge to run out and go to a class. It's not necessarily feeling content, I just don't feel like moving. Partly because I am almost afraid to move because I don't want to undo all the work that she's doing, lol.  But I also don't feel like going out or like socializing. I've mentioned it in previous posts, that there's a "hermit" part of me that is kind anti-social that tends to come out more when I don't practice as much yoga. I don't really feel like engaging with the world and am fine just sitting at home and watching shows on Hulu. Which I know is no better for the tightness in my body than going out and walking for hours. But I am kind of surprised that I don't miss the yoga more. Maybe the rest was really needed.

But it feels like there's something else kind of stirring beneath the surface...similar to what I felt when I was still working at Saks, just not as intense. And this has been growing since I started the training, not just since the start of the bodywork.  It's kind of a general dissatisfaction for the way things are going in my life. I didn't know entirely what to expect from the yoga teacher training, but, based on the experiences of my friends who have taken this and other trainings, I expected...more. I don't know exactly what more, just, I don't know, "more," lol. Maybe it's because there's so much time in between the training weekends right now, so it doesn't feel as immersive as I thought it would be. But there's only 4 weekends left, and then I'm done. I'm sure there's still a lot to learn, but part of me is really starting to wonder, was it all worth it? I said in one of the posts that I wrote just before the training that I was ready for whatever needed to come from this training, even if it meant "losing my practice." I guess I just didn't really think that it would; because that's what it feels like right now. There's not a whole lot of desire to practice anymore and I kind of didn't expect that.

Actually, now that I think about how it feels, I know exactly what it feels like: "burn-out." Actually, that's kind of how life feels in general lately, "burn-out." I thought it would fade after I switched jobs. But even in this extremely low-stress, can-hardly-call-what-I-do-work "job," I still feel it. I watched a clip recently of Kino MacGregor (senior Ashtanga teacher) talking about yoga as a "spiritual practice," (which is what it is "meant" to be) and there was a story that she told about the first time she went to India. A friend of her's there decided that she "needed to run away from her life and get away from everything 'physical' and go live in an ashram," which I can definitely relate to (though more living in some remote nature location and less ashram, lol). And Kino said that it got her wondering how many times someone can pull a "geographic," moving from one place to another, before you realize that "you carry your problems with you." I made a pretty dramatic job change. Granted it's not a huge "geographic," but I think the same idea still applies because I still have the same feelings stirring beneath the surface (though less intense).

Makes me wonder, what is it that I really need to change in my life? It kind of feels like there's always something I'm trying to distract myself from so that I don't have to feel/address it--either through movement, television, books, whatever. Stop moving long enough and it's there. I obviously have no answers right now, but that is what is stirring around in my head.

Shifting Gears

2011-06-22T12:22:00.000-04:00

I just finished my 3rd weekend of teacher training--4 if you count the anatomy training weekend. This was also our training group's last weekend of training with Natasha. The next 3 sessions will be with Jennie Cohen (from the YogaWorks in NYC) and none of us have ever practiced with her before! So, everyone kind of felt a little weird when Sunday finished. We all knew that Jennie would be taking over, but it still felt kind of unexpected, lol. My guess is that because Natasha was with us through the beginning half of the training, we've all gotten close to her. But, that means we get to start again with someone new! That's always exciting to me, getting to do new things, meeting new people...the beginnings are always the most exciting part for me.

This weekend also felt like a shift for me too: I'm starting to feel a little more comfortable during the practicing teaching sessions. I stumble my words a lot less, there's no nervous laughter at my first attempt to speak and I feel like I'm actually starting to "teach to what I see," meaning the instructions I give change depending on what I see someone doing. There is still a brief moment at the beginning when I can literally feel my mind try to blank out, but it doesn't last as long. Same goes for my reaction to hearing her say that we're going to practice teach. Prior to this weekend, whenever she would just say that we would be practice teaching, I could feel my heart rate pick up, my breathing get short and shallow, and then my mind start to shut down. Now, I still feel it, but I'm getting better at catching it before my mind goes into "shut-down" mode, where I can't remember what to say. I've read and heard that the breath out is supposed to be the calming breath, because, on average, when people panic, they hold their breath. But for me, when I panic, I forget to breathe in. So taking a deep breath in is much more relaxing to me (probably because, as someone who used to have asthma pretty bad, getting a full breath in is where the struggle is).  So, whenever I would feel the panic/"flight" mode switch start to flip: deep slow breath in, feel the panic start to break up, slow breath out of the mouth, nerves settle down. By our last practice teaching session on Sunday, there was almost (almost) no reaction to her telling us that we were going to practice teach. Yay for steps forward :)

What encouraged this shift? Who knows, probably a mixture of things. The group meet-up for a practice teaching session outside of the training; explaining yoga to various people that I run into at work or wherever it ends up happening. It could have been the 3 full days of energizing inversion practice (woohoo!!!).  But, I think a big help was the informal teaching I did to my friend's 11 year-old nephew. I was at my friend's baby shower and her dad and I were talking about yoga, running and rock climbing and then her nephew (over-hearing the conversation) said, "can you put your leg behind your head?!" lol...gotta love kids, lol. He then proceeded to show me that he could (ouch!). And then he said, "what about this one, do you do this one?" It was a very twisted and off-balance version of Vasisthasana--a.k.a "side plank" (that's my teacher, Natasha, in the picture by the way). Anyways, what he was trying to do looked more like a version of a one-legged, one-armed downward facing dog. So, I tried to walk him through what it looked like. I was laying on my side in front of him talking him through exactly what to do and when he couldn't figure it out just through my words, I went over to him, supported the side of his body on my knee so that I could move him into the position and then it hit me...."wait a second, this is teaching!" It was completely unplanned, unscripted, informal and it just felt so...natural, and easy. Not even a hint of panic. I was definitely trying to remember that feeling during this past weekend. I was talking with one of the teachers at my studio that I used to practice with a lot, though not as much anymore, and she asked how the training is going. I said it was going well. She said, "It's a lot of information, right?" I said, "Yes...but no, at the same time. It feels like a lot because the words and the cueing are different, but it feels like...somewhere inside my head, I know this." She just smiled knowingly and said, "Of course you do!"

Although teaching one pose is very different than teaching a whole class (I think I still have a long way to go before I'm ready for something like that), this weekend, when Natasha went over the homework that's due for the next month, there was no panicking at the sight of having to write a class sequence or having to write the teaching script. It just felt like, "ok, I can do that."  And that is a good feeling :)

Home Practice & my first yoga class sequence

2011-05-30T15:25:00.000-04:00

I just spent at least FOUR HOURS in a home practice. Probably more! I don't remember when I started, but at some point after I started, I updated my Facebook status (got momentarily distracted, lol) and when I finished, it had been 3 hours since I posted it.

It was amazing, it felt like no time had passed at all. Not only is 4 hours just a really long time to be practicing...anything, I'm just really surprised at the quality of my home practice today. It wasn't just lolling around in restorative postures mixed with playing with inversions--I even worked up a little bit of a sweat! Part of the homework from this past weekend of teacher training is to write a "level 2 YogaWorks sequence" leading up to Virabhadrasana 1 (Warrior 1). "YogaWorks Level 2" means that there are only certain poses that I'm allowed to include in the sequence and that I have to follow a specific structure. So, that is what I was working on this morning into the afternoon (...still, whoa! That was a LONG practice, lol). I had already started writing it out at work, but it's just so different once you actually start doing it.

I'm actually kind of amused because I had to do the sequence the same way I wrote my papers in college: I found a song that "clicked," put it on repeat, and then I had to work backwards. Vira 1 is a really common pose for me. I do it every time I do my Ashtanga practice and it's common in other classes as well. So, my body is already used to it. The squaring-the-hips action is the one that is usually the most challenging for people to do; but the stance that the legs are in during this pose is also one that I'm familiar with from my karate training back when I was 7 1/2 years old. Those legs are the "front stance" in Shotokan karate. My point is, that because I'm so used to it, I realized that I didn't really understand what it felt like--what was required of the body to do it: which muscles are getting lengthened/opened, which ones are working, etc. I literally had to hold the pose for over a minute to understand what was going on: what needed to be taught in order to do the pose & enjoy its benefits and what needed to be done to counter it.

You know what I found out? I didn't really like Vira 1! Which could be another reason I'm not really aware of what's going on with it, lol. Why don't I like it? Even though it's easy for me to get my body in that position, there are a couple of old injuries that it bothers: the right low back and the right foot (when that foot is in back, angled in). It also bothers a new tweak in my left knee that results in some frustrating sharp pain to outside of that knee whenever I bend it. But, physical injuries aside, I didn't like how it felt. Something about facing the front and having my arms up kind of bothered me. Kind of felt like I was...exposed? Maybe because my arms are up above my head? Where as, in karate, they were down in front of me, making it easier to defend myself.

So, I sat with it some more and just focused on feeling what was going on in my body. Took a while, lol. Aside from the muscles in the hip flexor needing to be open in order for the back leg to straighten and square the hips, my biggest revelation was that, in this pose (at least for me) my back leg was working a hell of a lot more than my front leg! I would have thought that it would have been more in the front leg because...well, you're facing the front. But it's like the back leg was working harder to square my hips than the front. Not sure why, that's just what it was doing. So, my practice and sequence was focused heavily around waking up the muscles in the hip/butt area (a.k.a, the "external rotators") that are needed for the front leg to help square the hips, and give the back leg a break, lol (after all, that's the one getting the deep stretch!). There was also a good bit of twisting because Vira 1 also asks for a little twist in the upper body (I don't think I was really aware of it before). And, obviously, there was a lot of standing poses. My legs weren't on fire, but they were definitely working hard. And it actually felt really good! It felt really warm. So, not on fire, but like there was energy running through my legs. I'd forgotten how great it feels to have strong legs. Since hurting my foot and doing so much Ashtanga, my arms are now the stronger part of my body. I could have stayed in those standing poses for many more minutes, they felt so good.

I'm also amused at how my running background informed my sequencing for this practice. Mostly in the cool-down phase. I was always better at cooling down than figuring out how to warm up my body before practice. So, after I worked my way up to the Vira 1 peak, the "cool-down" part was very slow. My reaction after doing so much leg stuff was to get to the ground as quickly as possible, because, even though it felt good, my legs were getting tired. BUT...that's not the best idea. After you finish a race or a practice, you never just sit down and stop moving. It's like a shock to your legs and body to go from intense action to nothing. It has to be slow and gradual, even if your legs say, "no more!" So, keeping that in mind, I still did a few more standing poses but just shifted which leg muscles would be working. I also combined it with some standing forward bends to start bringing the energy down. Followed by a nice long hold in downdog. Then I went to the seated-melt-into-the-mat poses.

It was also really cool to see the influences of all the other classes I've taken, teachers I've practiced with and the styles I've experimented with. I could see the Forrest influence in the long holds, experimenting with different arm variations while holding Vira 2 legs, a sweet little variation to twisted Crescent pose that I learned in classes with Ame Wren and Georgia Reath that gets you using your core and not your arms to twist, a lot of the alignment cues are coming from Natasha (not surprising). The warm-up part feels very Forresty (minus the abs, those are not YogaWorks moves, lol) but there is also some stuff that I remember doing with one of my very first teachers from Healing Tree. I pulled a lot from the Ashtanga series for the sequencing the standing poses but also from the YogaWorks method (which makes sense, since they pull from there too). Anyways, it was really cool to see them all come together.

A good amount of the 4 hours was start and stop between writing down what poses I did (and why, very important, lol) and then going back and putting them together to make sure they still made sense. It was really helpful to have a specific pose to work towards and structure to work with. Actually, the structure is more like an outline or "guidelines." It also really helped knowing that someone was going to be holding me accountable to it. Not just having to turn the sequence in for the training. Last week, I was talking with Georgia about the shifts that it felt like my practice was going through and she encouraged me to practice at home more. That's not the first time a teacher has suggested it, but it's the first time one was going to "hold me accountable" to it, lol. She said that the next time she saw me, she would ask if I had. Obviously nothing would "happen" if I hadn't, but just knowing that someone would ask gave me an extra nudge (which is what she intended). Having a lot of time at my disposal really helped too. On the rare occasions that I do practice at home, I spend a lot of time doing it--even if it's just lolling around in restorative poses. Which is probably one reason I don't practice at home that much. I like to be able to have plenty of time to work slowly and really feel the poses. That's probably got a lot to do with the Forrest yoga background, but it also seems to be a general progression--like the more you practice yoga, the longer and more slowly people tend to practice. That could be an over-generalization, but that's just something I've noticed.

Either way, I'm really glad I did my own practice today. I'd been working myself into a bit of a funk with my shoulder and wrist hurting (something happened to the wrist about a week and a half ago, best guess: strain + ganglion cyst; whatever, it's getting better) and it felt really good to practice. With all these injuries, it's becoming harder to do public classes, just because my body needs so many different things. Such as, I have to warm up differently because I need my shoulders to be really open in case I have to switch to doing dolphins instead of downward facing dogs because my wrist is hurting. But, I think that this is also a natural progression. The yoga practice is meant to be an individual practice. What and how you practice depends on what your body and mind need...and that is different everyday too. I still love some led classes because it provides a different kind of relaxation for your mind, because you don't have to think about what to do next. Doing a home practice/self-practice makes you use your mind--it focuses it. And, as I've learned in reading about meditation, having just one thing to focus all your energy on is relaxing, because you're no longer trying to figure out which thing to follow or bouncing between a bunch of different things in your mind. That's one part of the yoga right? "Restraint/calming of the fluctuations of the mind." Single focus = no fluctuations. :-)

"The Question"

2011-05-21T21:45:00.000-04:00

"Do you still feel like you don't want to teach?" "Are you going to teach?"...etc.

I think I'm going to stop answering, "the question." In all its forms. Not because I don't think the answer will never change. But because I want it to be able to. To be clear, that is not saying, "Yes, I actually, really do." What I mean is that it's an option that I want to keep open, to keep available. Natasha (the main person leading my training) loves to repeat a quotation from the Upanishads:

    Watch your thoughts, they become your words,
    Watch your words, they become your actions,
Watch your actions, they become your habits,
    Watch your habits, they become your destiny.

I've been asked "the question" so many times, and I've felt so resistant simply to the idea of teaching for so long, that it feels like it is starting to become habit for me to respond, "no" whenever I'm asked; even though I'm not feeling quite as resistant to it as I have been. But I keep saying it. Partly because the idea does still scare me, and I'm not sure if it is something I definitely want to do. And because part of me is still just fighting the idea of teaching. Probably because I was asked "the question" so many times before the thought of me teaching even entered my mind; like I was being pushed towards doing something "I didn't want to do." So, because I've been resisting that perceived "push" for so long, it's kind of like it's just my automatic response, in the hopes that people will leave me alone and just drop the subject so that I can have my own experience, without anyone dictating what it "means." Even though a different part of me is starting to feel more comfortable with the idea. It's as though, now I can start to imagine myself in some kind of that form. Whereas, before, I couldn't even visualize it.

And I feel like every time I respond in the "no" form--out of fear or just adamant resistance/rebellion--I close that door. And I've finally realized that it's not a door that I want "closed" forever, as my "destiny." Because, even if "I never teach yoga," there's a whole set of skills that come with learning how to teach something--whatever that may be. To be able to translate what you know--inherently--in your own body and mind into information that other people can understand and use is a skill that can carry over into MANY other parts of your life. Not to mention give you a deeper level of your own understanding. For example, today, we had to practice teach again. Just in pairs, one pose, on the spot--no preparation. And every time, in that scenario, part of my brain locks down and I can't describe what I'm doing and what I know how to do. Even as I'm doing it! My words just won't come out, even though I know, somewhere inside my brain, exactly what to say. I just can't seem to access it, it's blocked. Again, even if "I never teach yoga," having the skill to move past blocks like that is HUGE.

I just feel like every time I say, "no, I'm not going to teach...no, I don't want to teach"--or even every time I think it--I keep closing that door to the experiences and skills that I could gain from even just learning how to teach. As though just thinking, "oh, I'm never going to teach/I don't want to teach, so I'm just not going to worry about not understanding ________," rather than exploring it further. It's like what Natasha said this evening before we left about the quiz that we are going to have tomorrow which she is never going to see (collect or grade), "study for the quiz like it matters."

So, I'm not going to answer "the question" with any sort of definite answer anymore. I don't know how things are going to turn out or how I'm going to feel in 3 months when this training is over. Or in the months following it. This is something that has captured my complete attention for almost 2 years and is something that I love, so I am going to explore it to the fullest extent that I can. That's my answer--that's my "intention." A sort of guide that will hopefully lead to great experiences, deep learning and, maybe, even to some "real answers."

Yoga Teacher Training: Weekend One Reflection.

2011-05-09T12:24:00.000-04:00

Yoga teacher training update:

I have just finished my second weekend of yoga teacher training. Well, technically, I've had one weekend of teacher training and this past weekend was the anatomy intensive. I'm really glad that they made the second weekend of the course the anatomy portion, because if it was another training weekend I think I would have been a little more wiped out this morning. The first 3-day training weekend was a lot. Not necessarily physically difficult, or even mentally difficult...just a lot. I had a minor freak-out moment Sunday night after we finished and I was cleaning up the room. It's like it all kind of hit me right then: how much there is to learn, staying on top of In-training-assistant responsibilities, being unsure of how I want to use this training, shoulder injury, expectations of other people, life decisions...ah!!! I just felt this massive, "Oh my god, I can't do this!" feeling wash over and I broke down a little and started crying. Good thing: none of the other people taking the training were in the room. More embarassing: the main teacher leading the training was. But she was very kind and understanding. She was really good at trying to ease the pressure, reminding me that I don't HAVE to teach...or even take the final exam if I don't want to. In the end, if all I want to do is audit the course and not be certified, then I can do that. She doesn't think I will, and neither do I, but she was just trying to make the point that everything is going to be fine. Sometimes I just really feel the weight of what I'm doing--I have high standards for myself and it also feels like other people expect a lot from me; expect me to be capable of doing a lot. There were/are a lot of people who gently but consistently encouraged me in this direction and I've made a pretty big change in order to do this, I guess I just really feel the weight of that. This fear of, "what if nothing changes? What if I come out of this training no clearer about what I want in my life than I did going in?" I'm almost more afraid of the continued state of "limbo," of no change, than I am of anything changing--even something drastic.

Anyways, the teacher said that I was going through what she went through at the end of her first training. She said that, at the end of her first training, she didn't think she was going to teach. Which is pretty ironic considering she's one of the most recognized and respected yoga teachers in the country.

I was kind of in a state of shell-shock the next day. Partly from the minor freak-out and partly from taking in so much information over the course of 3 days...and so much physical practice. Since my shoulder started hurting over 3 weeks ago, I've lost my daily practice. I was practicing gentle yoga maybe twice a week. It was probably needed, that's usually what my injuries are trying to tell me. But it also made the 3-day yoga training a little more exhausting than it probably would have if I wasn't injured. So, not only was I physically exhausted when I returned to work on Monday, but I was also mentally drained. I brought a couple of the books to do my assigned reading for the month, figuring I'd start out light, but it was like my brain was shut down. I saw the words, but there was no comprehension. Almost like my brain said, "nope, no more information. Done." However, another component to the shell shock was that even though it was a lot--it was exactly what I've been wanting to do for months now: spend all day doing nothing but yoga--practicing it, learning about it, and discussing it with people that care about it as much as I do. I got to immerse myself in something that I enjoy for THREE days--in a row. Going back to the "real world," after that was kind of like getting sucker-punched. Side note: that makes me very grateful for the new job. Trying to do this training while working in a job that is considerably more stressfull and demanding would have been so much more difficult.

Anyways, it actually took me several days before my mind felt ready and willing to take in anymore information or do any work. Surprisingly, the reading was not the most accessible thing. I found that surprising because I've been a bookworm for the majority of my life and usually started my homework assignments with reading when I was in school. No, the thing that broke my funk was actually working on my first teaching script. It's nothing big, just one pose. But I guess that makes sense too, because writing is also something that comes very naturally to me (if you can't tell by the super long blogs that I post). It's almost as if my thoughts just flow more naturally when I write than when I speak. Although, it was surprisingly difficult at first to find the words to describe HOW to move your body! I've been doing these motions for so long and they came so naturally to me anyways, it was bizarre trying to think of describing HOW I do it. I don't even think about it while I'm doing it! I literally had to get up and do the pose while I was writing it in order to describe what I was doing! Which is a fantastic excuse to do yoga while I'm at work :) The pose I had to write a script for is also one of my favorite poses and one that I do regularly: Prasarita Padottanasana (wide-legged forward fold). It's really a phenomenal pose--so simple, but so effective. Stretches your hamstrings and inner thigh and completely allows your back and upper body to decompress because you're hanging upside down. Ahh...

It's also funny that the teaching script was the one that felt the easiest because it was the one that I was avoiding/dreading. Foreshadowing? Possibly. Or, maybe it's because the poses and the physical practice of yoga are the most familiar to me, so that part was actually easier. It also got me thinking about the structure of a yoga class...or any workout for that matter. You start out with easier, simpler poses to get the body warmed up and then do more complex/difficult ones. Makes sense that exercising the brain should work the same way: do some of the easy work first, to get your brain on board, and then do some of the harder stuff. I've been following that idea with my homework and so far it's been working, and I've been enjoying the homework too. I've done all the anatomy, poses and physical practice aspects of the homework reading/writing and now all that's left is a few philosophy readings. Hopefully, now with more of the homework out of the way, I can actually absorb the philosophy parts of it.

Tomorrow, Yoga Teacher Training

2011-04-21T18:50:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is the first day of my very first yoga teacher training.

It's still kind of surreal. Especially when I think about everything that has happened since I started practicing: injuries, depression, surgery, new apartment, 5 new roommates, new job. A lot has happened during this past year and a half or so. And I have no idea what is going to happen next.

Correction--I have a ton of ideas. Because that's what I do when I get nervous. I try to imagine every possible outcome, so I can try to prepare myself for it. Helps a little, but mostly it just makes me more nervous. And, lately, it's kind of starting to annoy me. I don't want to know what's going to happen next or how this is going to turn out. I just want to take the training and just be there and have the experience--without my brain constantly trying to anticipate what might happen next and, in a sense, control what is happening. I don't want to control it, I just want to have the most real and authentic experience possible. No goals, no intentions other than to just simply be there 100% and just, for lack of a better phrase, "enjoy the ride." Probably one reason I kept avoiding doing a training for as long as I did. Within my first couple of months of practicing people were telling me that I should teach or that I was "going to be a teacher." At first it felt like a great compliment. But it started to feel like there was some kind of expectation put out there before I was ready for it or even wanted it, like I didn't get to just enjoy the yoga before people were trying to turn it into work. I just wanted to scream, "leave me alone! I just want to be a student and to practice. Let me have my experience without you telling me what it means or what I'm meant to do with it."

But, I know that this is the next step, wherever it leads. And today I definitely still feel nervous--especially about waking up on time to be at the studio at 6 tomorrow morning. I haven't been getting up that early since I had to pause my Mysore practice while my shoulder rested. I worry about messing up the things that I need to do for my work-study position for the training. It's not rocket science, but I'm still worried that I'm going to screw it up. I'm worried that it's been too long since I've been out of school and that I've had to really use my brain and that now I've lost the skills I had when I was a student, or that I've somehow gotten less intelligent. I'm also worried that the depression had a bigger effect on my ability to think clearly than I thought it did and that I won't be able to do my best work. I remember reading articles that long-term depressions can literally damage your brain (I can't remember the exact terms, or even where I read it) and I guess I'm worried that it has. Basically, I'm scared of being incompetent and un-intelligent.

However, I'm also starting to get more excited about the training too. I've noticed a definite upbeat tone to my voice whenever I talk about the training now, or get an email from one of the people from the training. I'm super excited about my Ashtanga teacher coming in to teach 2 sections of the training: subtle body & Ayurveda. Both of which she is extremely well-versed in and loves to talk about. I'm very excited about the entire 3-day weekend devoted to inversions (sweet!!!) as well as the one for arm balances and abdominals. I'm definitely excited about all the yoga. A little worried about how my shoulder will hold up, since it just started feeling better. But I'm ok with that too, it feels like the majority of my life has been about learning how to live with and take care injuries! I'm not excited about having to teach, but I'm doing my best not to think about it.

Overall, right now I feel this nice sort of steady feeling. Not confident. More like somewhere around just being ready. Ready to accept whatever will come next and ready to let go of anything that it becomes clear that I need to--even if it's my yoga practice (now that would be ironic). Big breath...here we go, let's do this.

Enjoying the movement

2011-04-20T15:01:00.001-04:00

Today was my third time out for a run since my shoulder strain forced me to take a break from my regular yoga practice. And it was…informative. The run itself did not feel good—in the slightest, because I pushed too hard.

The first time, felt fantastic. I didn’t bring my watch—I didn’t have anywhere that I had to be and I wasn’t timing myself, so there was no need to bring it. I didn’t run on the jogging path, I ran on some trails through the lightly wooded area near the jogging path—I love trail running AND it’s easier on your body. I took breaks during the run—there were absolutely no goals, time or distance; I was just going out to enjoy the movement. It was also the perfect day as far as weather—sunshine, temps in the 50s, light breeze; perfect. After the run, I spent plenty of time enjoying some post-run yoga, took a shower, iced my foot and then went to a “yoga for runners” class. The class was really good and included just about everything that I did on my own after my run—which was very encouraging to know that I was thinking on the right path.

The second time was pretty good. I had to leave for work no later than an hour and a half after I started my run, which made me feel a little rushed, but it was ok, I wasn’t going to go far. I brought my watch because I needed to know how much time it would take me to do my run, that way I knew how much time to leave myself for future pre-work, morning runs—but I was not timing myself, as in aiming for a specific finish time, I didn’t even look at the watch except to note what time it was when I started. I stayed on the jogging path and, this time, I decided I would see how far I could go without stopping. I wasn’t aiming for any specific distance, but I was going to make an effort to go as far as could, without putting too much strain on my body, and just get a benchmark for how far that was. The feeling of the whole run was really good: I was working, but not straining. I could have gone faster, but I wasn’t just casually strolling either—really good balance between “effort and ease,” with the focus on keeping the breathing steady and as easy as possible. And I surprised myself—I completed the whole path (1.5 miles, the most I’ve run since my foot surgery last October). I looked at my watch to see what time it was and was even more surprised to see that it had only taken about 12 minutes to run the whole path. 12 minutes?! That’s an even 8 minute/mile pace—only 30 seconds/mile off my old easy distance run pace! I was able to fit in a little over an hour of a post-run yoga practice. I was still kind of feeling out what to do without a teacher guiding me or having a set sequence of poses to do (like in my Ashtanga practice) but I just started moving and relaxing in the poses that felt really good and that felt like they were undoing the not-so-pleasant side-effects of running (tight hamstrings, hips, etc). It was so hard to get myself into the shower because what I was doing felt so good. I kept resetting my timer for “another 5 minutes” because I didn’t want to stop; I wasn’t done yet, lol. I left for work roughly on time, but not in enough time to eat breakfast before I left. Funny thing I’ve noticed is that I don’t immediately feel hungry after I go running. And it kind of feels like my stomach can’t really digest anything big immediately after a run.

Anyways, the second one felt pretty good too. Not “perfect” like the first one, but really good. But, I kept thinking about the 12 minutes…I had really run that 1.5 mile jogging path in only 12 minutes—without having been running consistently in a long time? It didn’t seem accurate. Maybe I had remembered my start time incorrectly. It kept nagging at me all throughout the next day. Then this morning, when I finally convinced myself to get out of bed, I decided I was going to go down and run it again. Except this time I would time it with my stopwatch—no mistaking the start time there. I went out with the goal of hitting that 12 minute time again. I started running and I immediately felt tired. I thought, “Ok, this is just the morning tiredness burning off, I’ll fall into the stride later.” I kept running, trying to hold the pace. I didn’t feel like I was falling into the stride. I felt tired. My breathing felt very labored—I wouldn’t have been able to talk to someone if they were right next to me (benchmark for determining if you’re running too hard). My upper back felt tight, my throat was starting to feel tight and to burn as well…nothing about the run felt good. This was not a casual, easeful jog, I was racing myself. I finally accepted about half-way through that there was no way that I had run that time on Monday if I was this tired right now and that early into my run. I let myself relax a little bit to a pace that felt slightly more comfortable and kept running. Coming up to the last stretch of path before the end, I picked up my pace a bit, to finish strong just like the old competitive runner in me does for every run—not just the races and ended my run with my lungs and throat burning. I looked at my watch: 11 minutes 23 seconds. Roughly a 7 minute 30 seconds/mile pace—a.k.a, my old “easy distance” running pace. First thoughts: holy crap, I didn’t think I was hitting that time. Immediately followed by, that was too much. Yay, I surpassed the time I was trying to hit. Glad to know it’s still in me. But it did not feel good. There was nothing enjoyable about that run. I went home, unrolled my yoga mat and put my feet up the wall—which is becoming my go-to first pose of my post-run yoga practice. I just lay there on my mat; arms splayed feeling very deflated and beat. D-O-N-E.

I will say, however, that there was something really good that came out of pushing too hard—it provided a lot of information about how to structure my post-run yoga practice. The first thing I wanted to do once my breathing returned to normal wasn’t to stretch out my legs—it was to unlock and decompress my upper body. I don’t think I ever really noticed before exactly how tight and compressed your upper body gets from running. The focus is always on the legs and hips getting tight but it literally feels like your upper body gets squished. So, the majority of my practice was spent reversing that effect. Matsyasana (a.k.a “fish pose”) feels AMAZING after a run. Or, at the very least, lying on your back with a rolled up mat, block, blanket or whatever underneath your shoulder blades and letting the head hang back. Opens the throat and the upper back. You know what else also feels particularly great after a run? Laying belly-down over a rolled up mat—for those who don’t know, the rolled up mat is in between your rib cage and pelvic bones. It feels really uncomfortable at first but then I could feel it decompressing my back and opening up the front side of my body. I know from seeing previous photos of myself that I don’t have a significant sway back when I run, but I know I have a little bit of it—so the compression in the opposite direction feels heavenly. I can’t remember the exact sequence of the things that I did, but it focused heavily on lengthening and decompressing my spine. AFTER that is when I shifted my focus into the legs. Prasaritta Padottanasana (standing wide-legged forward fold) is becoming one of my favorite poses—stretches the hamstrings, inner line of the legs while simultaneously lengthening out the back. I was just starting to move into some slow Classical Sun Salutations—with an exaggerated focus on getting a stretch deep into the hip flexors—and starting to move into a flow when my timer went off. 7:30 a.m. Only 30 minutes to shower, get dressed and get out of the house. Again—there was no time to ice the foot or to eat breakfast. It’s almost as though I need 3 ½ hours to myself in the morning: run, yoga, shower, ice & breakfast.

Either way, it’s a work in progress and the routine is starting to feel really good. When I’m not going crazy and pushing myself too far beyond where I’m at, the running feels really good. To quote my friend, it wakes up my brain. I’m loving the added ease I feel in walking and going up stairs that I get from my leg muscles getting stronger. Plus the movement just feels so good—when you do it right ;-) The information and direction its providing to my yoga practice is also really nice. Since injuring my shoulder that has been one thing that I really missed— my morning practice. Not even so much just the Ashtanga—I just missed having my own practice. It feels nice to have it again—no matter how short it is. It’s interesting; my running informs and gives direction to my yoga practice via the tight muscles. And my yoga practice informs and guides my running practice—when I go out with the intention to just enjoy the movement and simply BE wherever I’m at, whether it’s slow, fast, tired, whatever, then the run feels better and my body isn’t stressed as much. Ignore that and push it, then the effects aren’t as pleasant, even if the time is good. Which is an interesting change in itself. It used to be just about improving my running times—now the focus is on the movement being pleasurable.

Reflecting and focusing

2011-04-13T14:54:00.000-04:00

9 days.

That's how many days until I start my very first yoga teacher training. And my feelings are...mixed. I'm not mortified or terrified, but I am definitely nervous. I was looking over the categories for the homework that will eventually be assigned (asana, philosophy, anatomy, etc) and when my eyes passed over "teaching scripts," I felt my heart jump into my throat and start to race a bit. The very thought of teaching--anything--kind of makes me want to run and hide. That's actually a general feeling about the training as well. I feel the general nervous that I usually feel when taking on some challenge/endeavor--fear of failure, not being good enough, etc. But I do know that somewhere inside me I am confident and I know that I will be fine. I've actually had experience teaching before--I had to teach and assist many classes in order to test for my black belt when I was younger. It was also my least favorite part of the preparation for the exam. That aside, I also spent the last 4 1/2 years giving "training" meetings to people at my old job (retail loss prevention) about shoplifter prevention, and other policy-type stuff. It took a good couple of years before I finally got comfortable with it, but it was still something I kind of avoided doing. I would do it if my boss asked me to, but I wouldn't make the effort to otherwise. But, whenever he did tell me to go out and do my meetings, whatever nerves I had settled once I started doing it and then I eventually didn't even need to consciously think about what I was going to say. I was just talking and sharing information.

So, I know that IF I decide to teach, I probably have the capability to do so. So, confidence is a small factor in the nerves but there is something else too: part of me just does not want to do this. Part of me is perfectly happy just playing on the Facebook during the work day at my new job, reading yoga blogs, just doing my own yoga practice and then going out and playing on the weekend (Saturday night & Sunday). Hiking, rock climbing...with summer coming I'm sure I would have found a way to go out kayaking too. I was always frustrated with my old job and feeling like I could never go out and do something during the summer, when the weather was nice, and now I'll be spending the majority of this summer in training. Part of me is getting very annoyed at feeling like I constantly have to keep putting my life on hold--can't do X because I have to go to class/study for an exam/research a paper/write a paper. Graduated from college: I can't do X because I have a broken foot and am on crutches/have physical therapy/hurts too much to move. Now that I finally have a steady work schedule and am relatively pain free (save the new shoulder strain from combining rock climbing and Ashtanga yoga--got some knowing, "I told you so" smiles from my yoga teachers for that one), I'm about to give away what little free time during the month that I want to be most active to my yoga training. Yes, I know that in the long run, it's not that much. It's not long at all, just 5 months: April 22-August 21; 6 Friday-Sunday weekends, 1 Saturday-Sunday weekend. Really, it's not that bad. There are some that have you at the training everyday for a whole month, and others that are 9 months long and take every other weekend. So, really, no it's not that bad. But it still doesn't stop the feeling that I keep having to put my life on hold and I'm sick of it.

Yeah, I know, "welcome to the real world, everyone has to do this." Really? If the "real world" sucks, then why do we do it this way? Enter the pissed off, frustrated feeling of not wanting to be a part of "this world." The go to work and spend maybe 2 days a week actually doing something you enjoy. Which is also one of the things driving me to do this training. I'm happy now, because I can pretty much do whatever I want and am left to decide how I want to do this job, but I also know that it won't last long. You can only play FarmVille for so long before you start getting bored with it and wondering what it would be like to actually be on a real farm. So, this job works for now but I know it won't be long before it'll get boring and I get restless, wanting something more than just sitting at a desk for 8 hours/day. Before the 1 day a week that I am able get out and do something--hike, rock climb, visit friends--will feel so good that it makes going back to work unbearable.

Clarification. That was the big reason I decided to do the training. Learn more about yoga? Sure, that was always a good motivator. But a lot of that is possible to do on your own: go to workshops, go to classes with different teachers, read books and yoga blogs, go on a retreat. Pattahbi Jois is famously quoted for saying that yoga is 1% theory and 99% practice. I really do believe that. This is one of those systems where you learn best and the most through actually doing it. At the same time, I kind of felt like I was hitting some sort of "wall" with it. Honestly, I found myself starting to get bored with it. I never thought it would happen, but it did. And then I would switch up my teachers and styles and be good for a little while longer.

But, lately, I've been wondering why I keep doing it. Why I practice the yoga and what is its place in my life? I really didn't know what to expect from it when I started doing it. I had hurt my back and couldn't move. This happened after my initial foot injury and after I was finally starting to get some strength and movement back in my life. I felt like I was getting trapped in again and just kind of scrambled to the first thing that looked like it would bring relief and allow me to move. The only thought in my head was, "Not again!" My back started feeling better within a week and...I don't know, I just couldn't stop going to the classes. They felt amazing. Restful and challenging at the same time. It just clicked. It didn't matter how much money I was spending on it, it just felt like I couldn't stop, I needed it. It almost sounds like addiction, which I guess it kind of is. Your body literally starts craving the movement after a while. Although you here the same comments about running and other exercises. Not to mention that it felt like going to the classes, talking with the teachers and other students in the classes was the most meaningful interaction I had had with people since I moved to Boston. After 2 years of working in a job that required distrust of people and feeling very isolated, I felt and saw myself opening back up to people again. Was it the yoga, or the people? Who knows; maybe a little bit of both. I can definitely say, after witnessing it several times, that when I don't practice, I feel a lot LESS social.

So, yoga kind of took over my life. Started working at the yoga studio that I liked the most so that I wouldn't have to pay for my classes anymore. Requested certain days off from work so that I could take classes with my favorite teachers. Similar to running, I started centering my life around the one thing that I enjoyed the most. It was also all that I talked about with people. Sometimes on purpose, other times it just simply kept coming up in conversations. People were curious about it and I enjoyed talking about it and was almost eager to share it. But I never felt the urge to teach it. I have never once thought, "Hey, I wanted to teach this to people." Share it, yes. Teach, no. And there is a difference. A small one, but important. Teaching means that you have some greater knowledge about it, and some responsibility that comes with it. And I don't feel like I have that or that I want the responsibility that comes with it. It's the being responsible for what it does to other people. Simply having the label of "teacher" gives you a slight amount of authority that people just automatically accept, and will usually do what you ask of them. What scares me about the thought of teaching is doing or saying (or "suggesting") to do something that ends up hurting someone. I don't want to be responsible for other people. That is one of the big things that makes me want to run and hide when I even see the word "teach."

So, there it is. One of my biggest fears when it comes to the idea of teaching. So, what am I doing in a yoga teacher training? (A) I know that I don't have to teach if I don't want to. No matter how many people tell me I should, no matter how many people tell me that it is what I am "supposed to be doing," as though it is supposed to be my "fate" to teach yoga (as a few of my teachers have), I don't have to do it. (B) Clarification. This thing has taken over my life and, as I feel my life shifting around again, I want to understand where it fits, what it means to me. Because to me, it is definitely much more than a physical exercise--that's what rock climbing is for ;-)

Other forms of movement

2011-04-06T16:51:00.000-04:00

Since I left my job at Saks, I've been out rock climbing 3 times, and it's been amazing. Rock climbing has been something I have been itching to get out and do for a long time. Probably ever since I first heard about all the indoor climbing gyms in the Boston area. I remember going to my 8th grade science trip and the thing I loved the most was the giant rock climbing wall that they had at the facility. Every time they had someone there to supervise us climbing up the auto-belay wall (maybe between 15-20ft high?), I was there climbing until they closed it up. When there was no one to supervise, my free time was usually spent climbing on the horizontal wall--which was maybe 6 feet high and the objective was to climb sideways along the wall. Wherever there was a rock wall available for climbing at an amusement park, that was usually where you could find me (when I wasn't riding the roller coasters).

So, when I finally had time opened up for me and people I knew who could go with me to these places (most of them are either outside the range of public transportation or not easily accessible by it) I finally took the opportunity. The first night, my friend and I spent at least 2 hours climbing, mostly on the "top rope" section (where you are hooked into a harness and your climbing buddy is holding on to the rope beneath you). My forearms and hands were aching the next day, but it felt so good to use muscles that never get used and just to do something different--something other than my yoga practice. The next time out was just straight bouldering. Bouldering = climbing at lower heights but without a rope. Which means WHEN you fall (and I did, many times) you fall onto a giant foam crash pad. Bouldering is unbelievably harder than top roping because you have no rope. When your arms get tired during top-roping, you can let go for a second while your climbing buddy holds you in place. When your arms get tired during bouldering, you fall. Or you let yourself just hang from your arms for a second or two before attempting to climb again. But you are still using your hands to grip and then more energy to pull yourself back up. I was bouldering for over 2 hours that day. The next day, I could hardly raise my arms because the lat muscles along the side of my body were so sore. I've been practicing yoga for almost 2 years. My body has not felt this sore and this tight in a long time.

But it also feels stronger than it did before. A friend of mine put it really well. He said that yoga is mostly a pushing motion while rock climbing is pulling. So when I go climbing, I'm engaging all those muscles that don't get used much in yoga. All the muscles that serve as stabilizers to the main muscles that get used during yoga. My practice is starting to feel stronger. My arms and shoulders don't feel as tired when I'm in down dog because they aren't doing all the work anymore, my lat muscles feel stronger and picking up some of the weight, like they're supposed to. My hands and forearms are also feeling stronger, which makes my arm balances feel much more stable. Another big one that feels stronger is my core. One of my climbing buddies told me before that climbing is all about your core. I knew that but I didn't feel my core engaging while climbing...but that didn't mean it wasn't working. It's like you automatically start engaging your core muscles to hold you close to the wall while you're moving. And I can feel the difference while moving in between the poses in my practice. It's really starting to feel like more of my movements are starting from my core, without me even trying to do so. The climbing feels so much more effective in "waking up" the core muscles than just doing crunches or traditional abdominal exercises. It's as though this teaches you how to use the muscles of your core to move yourself, rather than just beating them to death through crunches and the like.

Anyways, this was on my mind this morning because of the reaction I got when I told a couple of the yoga teachers that I usually work closely with that I been out climbing a few times. It kind of makes me laugh. The one that I told last night literally went from smiley and happy about whatever we were talking about before to "the face." I don't know exactly what that face is. It's a sort of serious face that is like a cross between shock and...I don't know, concern? Disapproval? It's really hard to describe what that face is. It's kind of like the face your parents give you when you're telling them that you're doing something that's not what they want you to do. Like they're trying not to show their shock and disapproval but it's clearly there, just a bit muted. I thought I might be reading too much into it last night, but when I told my other teacher this morning, I got the same result. Happy and enjoying whatever we were talking about to energy drop and "the face." Really? When I told one of them last night and I had mentioned that I was amazed that I hadn't gotten blisters yet, she said, "Not yet, but you will." Maybe. There's definitely a few spots that feel close to blistering, but I just put lotion on them, stretch my hands out and it goes away. And if I do get blisters, that's ok. The skin will heal and then it will grow back stronger.

I don't know. Maybe they think it might hurt or take away from my yoga practice. I remember a conversation that I had with one of my first yoga teachers back when I first started practicing. I told her that I used to run and missed doing it. She had told me that yoga was great for running but that running was not good for yoga, because it makes you tight. Yep. Running will definitely make your hips, hamstrings, quads and hip flexors very tight. Along with your calves, bum, and shoulders. Pretty much every muscle in your body will get tight--because you are using them. You know what else makes your hip flexors tight? Sitting for hours on end at a desk job. Running is known for making your low back cranky because of all the pounding that you do. You know what else does that? Walking...and even sitting, just from the compression of your own body weight. But that is life. When we use our bodies, they tend to get tight. Heck, even when we don't use them they get tight, just from staying in one position for so long. And that is what the yoga is for. More and more I am starting to think that yoga is designed to counteract the effects of life. Then again, yoga needs a counter too--all those chaturangas and arm balances tend to make your shoulders and upper back a smidge on the tight side, and don't even get me started on how sore and tight my hamstrings were when I first started my Ashtanga practice ;-)

Yes, yoga is considerably less demanding of the body than other forms of activity--in terms of stress on the joints, compression and general "tightness." But yoga isn't the only form of movement out there. While we were resting in between tackling the many bouldering routes, one of my climbing buddies (who is also a very avid and advanced yoga practitioner) asked me if I ever got tired of just doing yoga. I told him, "honestly? Yes." He felt the same way. Neither one of us is saying that we don't love our yoga practices. It's just that, as he put it so perfectly, our bodies crave other sorts of movement. Sometimes I swear my legs literally ache to just start breaking out in a full on sprint--to really move. My lungs also miss the strength that they had from running. I definitely don't feel like I can breathe as deeply as I did when I was running. Or hold my breath as long as I did when I was swimming. Those are both a kind of lung strength that I don't feel like you can get from yoga.

I guess my point is this: I don't think that doing other forms of exercise will "hurt" or take away from or delay the progress of my yoga practice. It's just going to change it. I can say one thing for sure, it's definitely adding a good dose of humility to my practice. I've always been Twister-star flexible, even with my very active lifestyle, but after almost 2 years of a daily yoga practice, my "flexy-bendiness" has been taken to a whole other level. I do my best to not let it go to my head, but I can't deny that there is a little part of me that feels so much satisfaction at my heels easily touching the floor in down dog. Or my head touching the ground in a wide-legged forward fold. But with rock climbing engaging and strengthening the muscles that are usually just being stretched, some of my bends aren't as deep as they used to be. So now I really get to practice "letting go of the attachment to the pose." I can't bend as far forward in certain poses because the inner leg is far too tight from use. And that's a good thing. I rarely use the inner leg for balancing and now I can feel it working. And that's ok. I'll stretch it to wherever it's comfortable limit is right now (because if I push it to where it was pre-climbing it'll probably snap) and the tightness will eventually subside.

There's a blog that I follow a lot written by a yoga teacher I've really come to admire. She has said before to not curse the less flexible parts of your body and "to be proud of your strength." When I read that, I thought it was such a great sentiment. Now I'm actually practicing it.

Days without yoga

2011-03-19T10:40:00.000-04:00

The days that I don't do yoga are always interesting because I feel very different from the days that I do. And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing....or which one is the good or the bad?

Example: On most days that I don't do a physical yoga practice, I feel a hell of a lot less social. I don't really feel like talking with people, being around people...I just want to be left alone. All throughout my childhood, I was always the "social butterfly." And then "life" happened and I got less social. Since starting to practice yoga, I do feel a lot more open and sociable towards people, more like how I used to be. So I guess I'll put that in the "good" column--yay, yoga is "working."

But then there is this: I feel more "awake," when I don't practice. Like a cloud or something has been lifted from my mind and now I can think again. Sometimes after I go to a yoga class, and especially after practicing Mysore Ashtanga, my mind kind of feels "shut off." And I don't know if that is a "good" thing or a "bad" thing. Technically, that's what is supposed to happen right? "Quieting the mind..." I don't know. Sometimes my thoughts also feel more cohesive and put together on days that I do practice and sometimes it's the other way around....my mind feels more alive on the days that I don't practice, like I can finally think again. I'm not sure, it kind of goes back and forth between the two but it's always there too.

Another thing that I tend to notice a lot more on the days that I don't do yoga is that I'm a lot more dissatisfied with my life right now. Again, I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. After I do yoga there is a feeling that is somewhere between complacent and content...though it usually feels more towards the complacent side. Kind of like there is no urge to push myself to be better or do more. Maybe that's a good thing and I need to have that attitude more so that I don't wear myself out. And maybe it's not, because there is a lot that needs improvement. My room needs a thorough cleaning and purging of unnecessary junk (seriously, I'm losing floor space). I need to buy some more clothes to wear to my new job (this one pair of black pants isn't going to last forever). My diet also needs some serious work. I can't believe that has been such a struggle for these last 2 1/2 years. But, I guess one can't live off of cereal and bagels forever, right? Gotta eat something more than just carbs. Food frustrates the hell out of me and I hate having to devote any time or energy to it. Can't there just be this one magic food that gives you everything you need and tastes good? Well, that's a topic for another time, but it just demonstrates another area of my life that really needs some attention and work.

Basically, it kind of feels like that on the days that I don't "do" any yoga (a physical practice) all the other areas of my life sharply shift into focus. Take away the one thing that makes you the most happy and fulfills you the most. Are you still happy? Is everything else that you have in your life "enough?" In my case, I think not. I was actually forced to do this experiment and learn the hard way when I suddenly couldn't run anymore (broke the foot--crutches and cast boot for 2-3 months) and I graduated from college and was no longer in school. It became painfully and glaringly clear that I was very unhappy with my life and I ended up in a depression that I am still working out of. It's still there; everyday, just beneath the surface. Almost like it's waiting for me to stop moving long enough to take hold again. I used to feel like I really had to actively fight against it. Now I don't feel like fighting as much when I feel it because it started to feel more like an indicator. Or a way to measure the amount of satisfaction I feel in my life. And right now, I kind of feel like I'm still in the same spot I was when I couldn't run.

Take away the one thing that I'm enjoying the most in my life and there's nothing keeping me here. In Boston I mean. My new job is ok, but it's nothing I feel this intense desire to keep doing. Apartment is ok, roommates are cool; but neither are enough to make me want to keep working to stay here. I like the climate as well, and the ocean...but I rarely engage in them. I'm always indoors, always working. Basically, without the yoga and the yoga community that I've slowly started to become more engaged with, it feels like there is not a whole lot (except lack of funds) keeping the restless wanderer in check. The one that just wants to let go of any attachments and just go. Somewhere, anywhere. Just to live freely with the least amount of restrictions as possible, engaging with whatever strikes my interest at any given time. And sometimes I wonder, is that a bad thing, or a good thing?

"I believe that in spite of the chains we bind ourselves with, there's a primordial section of the human psyche that is still nomadic and still yearns to roam free."

---Richard Paul Evans (The Walk)

Oh yes. I feel you on that one...

The Universe has a odd sense of humor

2011-03-07T21:50:00.000-05:00

So, first things first, I didn't mention something about the guy who did the Sound Healing yesterday. He is also a shaman. No, there is no smoke or inhaling/ingesting crazy substances. Basically, it works at the energetic level to clear energy blocks within your...energy field, lol. It's kind of hard for me to explain and even harder for me to believe that I'm actually talking about it in a non-sarcastic manner. You know how some things just keep repeating themselves in our lives? Like, for example, always getting injured, lol? Or always ending up with the same "bad guy" as a boyfriend? Lots of people talk about it as something that you just seem to attract. That is where energy work comes into play: reiki, shamanism and the like. That's energy work. So the Sound Healing concert that I went to yesterday falls into that area.

Also, confession: this is not the first time I've seen a shaman. It's also not the second. It's the third. It's so weird for me to comprehend that I'm actually considering this stuff seriously, because I'm usually quite skeptical. Or at least I used to be. Anyways, here's why all this rambling is relevant. The first time I saw a shaman, I felt like I kept hitting the same walls, unable to move past them and starting to feel more than a little hopeless. I'm not going to go into the details right now because what's important is what happened afterward. 10 days after the first session with the first shaman I saw, there was a major shift in my work life: I was offered a promotion at both of my jobs. But I couldn't take both, I had to make a choice. Remember that thing I talked about that broke the stalemate in my 4 1/2 year long job that I hated? This was it. Well, I made the choice that felt better in my heart (not taking another position in the high-end retail world of Saks Fifth Ave) and continued living the way I was before, this time with a little more hours of work at the yoga studio. But it didn't stop there. I still felt stuck. I saw the shaman one more time and the very next day, both of my roommates decided to move out, leaving me 2 weeks to replace them. That's also when I put a halt to the shamanic energy work because it felt like it was causing too many changes in too short of a time period for me to handle in a healthy way.

So, I was a little curious/nervous about what would happen after yesterday's concert, especially with how I ended up reacting to it. My thoughts going in was that it wouldn't hit as hard since all the energy wasn't focused directly on me, lol. Well, funny thing happened today. As I was getting my things together to leave my new job, one of the higher up guys (one of the ones who manages multiple real-estate projects, he's kind of like the #2 man) asked me how things were going up there (the office is in the basement/lower level, my concierge desk is on the first floor). Honestly, I'm starting to get very bored. I feel terrible, but I spend the majority of my day surfing/playing on the internet. There's just not a whole hell of a lot to do right now. But, (A) the guy who hired me told me that would be ok because he knew there was going to be a lot of "down-time." And, (B) I don't let the internet stuff interfere with the actual work when it comes up. But, I didn't tell him that. I told him about the work that I do do and that it's quiet. He said that they might be looking to give me some more work to do, especially with So-and-so leaving in a week. Whoa. Wait; back-up there a second. So-and-so is the back officer manager, I'm the front. Ideally, the way this was supposed to work is that I handle all front office stuff (say, "hello," deliver packages, monitor move-outs, etc), basically all the "customer relation," parts of it; she handles the back office, technical, financial stuff. And, apparently, she's going to be leaving, soon.

"So," he says, "we were thinking of passing on some of her work to you, would you like that?" Whoa! My immediate thoughts, "Yes! I'm so bored I've started playing Farmville again!" But, I also felt like I needed to reign that in a little. I've hardly been there one week, and I've never handled that kind of work before. I think I'm intelligent enough to do it, but I also feel like there's a learning curve and I would need to take it slowly to really understand it and get the hang of it. And that's what I told him. I said, "Yes, I'd be interesting in doing other things, but slowly, because I've never done work like that before. I'd like to learn new things, but just a little at a time." He seemed to be ok with that idea. It's a small company and there's a lot of work to be passed around. I do want to learn new things, but I also really like interacting with the people who live there (and their dogs, lol) as well as walking around the building, I definitely do not want something that just keeps me inside an office all day long.

But, this is also very similar to the job I fought against and ultimately turned down at Saks. It was a Human Resources assistant position: handling the technical part of a department that manages people. And here it is, showing up again: a "real" job, that involves actual "work," not just sitting around and letting your mind go to waste. Something tells me that I shouldn't fight this one. Is this the result of the shamanic work? Is shamanic energy work even "real?" I don't know. Three instances of odd things happening directly after that kind of work is a little hard to ignore or discount. Oh, interesting side note: have you ever heard of the idea that how you spend your New Year's is how you will spend the rest of your year? I heard that expression for the first time this year and I'm starting to think that there might just be some credit to that. Last year (January 1, 2010), I spent my New Year's practicing yoga...and I that's pretty much what I spent my entire year doing. I did a lot of yoga, it's pretty much all that I did. This year (January 1, 2011) I spend my New Year's cleaning up after people, specifically my two roommates who moved out, and basically preparing the apartment for new people to live in. I now find it very ironic that I work as a concierge where I basically look after people's living space and I now seem to be getting positioned into a job that will do even more of that. I know it's all a matter of your own personal perspective, but it's still pretty ironic.

We'll see what happens. I think it's going to be an interesting next couple of weeks. "We'll see." That's kind of my mantra these days. Not overly optimistic or pessimistic. It's more like a kind of detached, realistic hope. We'll see.

Sound Healing Concert

2011-03-06T21:06:00.000-05:00

Today I went to a Sound Light Healing Concert with Pierre Garreaud at the Akasah Yoga Studio in Jamaica Plain. Akasha is a very sweet, homey little one room studio about a mile from my apartment. I love the space with its giant Love Sac bean bag type chair, small kitchen and friendly, laid-back atmosphere. The Sound Light Concert is something I signed up for before I started my new job. This person had been there once before and I had wanted to go but ended up missing it because of work. So, when I saw he was coming back and that it fell on my day off, I took it as a sign to go.

Sound Healing is meant to be exactly what it says it is: healing through sound. I think sound is a very strong tool. It can instantly change the mood of a room. In yoga, I think it's a pretty amazing tool to just drop people into their practice so they can just move without their minds making too much noise. So, the idea of this workshop is to use Peruvian and Native American instruments and singing to open up the meridians of the body so that energy can move freely. After the time I had at my old job, it sounded like something I really needed, so I jumped at it. Today, I wasn't sure I wanted to go anymore. I was feeling different than I did at the time, less "I'm going to scream if I don't get out of here!" and more, "ok, I'm here, whatever." But, I paid the money for it and I like the sound of that kind of music, so sure, let's go.

Pierre set up his instruments and told us his background and explained the concepts behind Sound Healing. He also said that he was going to be focusing on the lower chakras: 1, 2 and 3. #1, The Root Chakra is all about feeling secure and safe, grounded. #2 is the Sacral Chakra and is all about feelings: desires, sensations, sexuality and home to your creativity. #3 is the Naval Chakra, home to your self confidence. He said that too often, people just focus on the upper chakras: heart, throat, third-eye and crown. Basically, spending all the time experiencing "divine" communication and the like without having any ground to come back to. It's kind of like having all these amazing insightful experiences through mediation and what not, (I can't remember his words exactly) and then not wanting to come back to the more physical ones. Basically, not spending a whole lot of time in the present, material world. Which kind of reminded me of...me, lol. Chakras 1-3 are our foundation and are just as important as the upper ones--especially because they are developed first. According to Pierre, each chakra takes 7 years to develop. Birth-7 years old=First chakra; 8-14=Second; 15-21=Third, 22-28=Fourth and so on. Which makes a lot of sense when you think about it the psychological stages of human development. Of course, that also means they tend to hold the oldest "blocks." Pierre described them as "rocks," that you keep going around and kicking every time you come to them, until you figure out that you can use them as a stepping stone. Ah, very nice. He also said something about "the ego" that I really liked. He said that it is something we need, not something that needs to be extracted or eliminated. Basically, he referred to it as the part of us that can recognize that we've had experiences, the part that can feel that, "oh, I just had an amazing experience in mediation," or whatever. It's hard to remember the exact words or explanation he used, but that's the gist of it, and it makes a lot of sense to me. I don't think "the mind" or "the ego" are necessarily bad things that need to be removed like a cancer. They are a part of every human being and serve a purpose. It's more like they're tools that we are given in order to relate what we see and experience to the rest of the world.

With all that in mind, when Pierre asked us to raise our hands for which chakra we wanted to work with most, I went for the second. Ages 8-14 were extremely tough for me, mostly because that's when my home life was kind of in shambles via my parents divorce. I also don't feel very creative and usually restrict a lot my feelings. The third is also a good one for me, but the second was the one I felt needed the most attention. Either way, the music was played for everyone, no matter which chakra you choose to work on....this was more like "setting an intention" for the session.

So, my experience was...interesting. It's kind of hard to put into cohesive sentences and paragraphs, so here is a bullet version of my "journey" (as Pierre called it):

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-->holy moly, it sounds like the lady next to me is going through an exorcism!!! And we're only 5 minutes in...at most!
-->it's really hard to just let go and be open when she's making so much noise! It's like an assault on my senses! Not only am I really sensitive to sound, the sounds of people upset really gets to me. Listen to the music, listen to your breath...everything else is just background noise....
-->I love his singing. It's Native American chanting and it just sounds so primal and....organic, natural. It doesn't really sound like there's any real words or structure, more like he's just singing off a base and then altering it to accommodate the people in the room. And I love the sound of the drum! When he comes over and plays it right above/next to me, I can literally feel the vibrations in my body. He walks around the room and to each of us to play above us and, when he first started, he was playing a rattle of some kind. The rattle was hard on the ears at first too, and I kind of tried to push into my mat to get away from the sound. But when he played it over me, I literally felt a little...tingle (for lack of a better word) right at my belly button. I gave a little smile and laugh...that's cool! :-)
--> I really loved the drumming piece of the session. Largely because it was loud enough to drown out my own thoughts AND everyone else's sounds. But also because it goes right into me. When he played over the woman next to me, she yelled louder. When he played over me and I could feel its vibrations inside me, I just laughed and smiled :-) When the drumming part was over, my whole body literally felt like it was humming, or vibrating...I'm not sure if there's a difference. After that I think it was more rattles or something, I don't really remember the particular instrument, but he was singing the whole time.
-->Somewhere along the way, I started wondering why I was the only one who seemed totally calm...almost unresponsive. Everyone else seemed to be having these phenomenal experiences and I felt myself getting kind of jealous like, "Hey, what's wrong with me?! Why aren't I feeling anything phenomenal?" And then I started realizing, "Oh. I'm the only one 'awake.'" Everyone else is really letting themselves go and just experiencing what's happening to them. I'm doing the "movements," a.k.a, the specific breathing he wanted us to do, but my mind is totally awake and observing the whole thing. I started realizing, I don't spend a whole hell of a lot of time in "this world," I spend most of the time in my head. Listening to and observing what's going on around me, but not really engaging with it. I don't know. Maybe it was my reaction to the woman next to me. When other people are freaking out, my immediate reaction is to detach and remain as calm as possible. It's possible that could have set the tone for the whole thing. Maybe. I also feel like, even a year and a half of doing yoga, it is still pretty difficult for me to just let go. To stop thinking and analyzing and observing and just simply experience things...to just be here. Hmm...interesting side note, I'll file that away and write it down later. Right, back to breathing...
-->His singing and the rattles aren't loud enough. The people around me are still too loud, and I'm still thinking too much. Maybe I should try making sound as I breathe out. Nothing huge, just a little sigh. That actually feels really good. It's easier to follow my own breath and voice when I actually make noise. It doesn't even have to be super loud, just enough for me to hear it. I feel more...present.
-->The lady next to me is starting to quiet down, she must have worked through some pretty intense stuff!
-->What is that? I felt...something, an emotion. Nothing huge. But it's there. I can feel it just behind my eyes. Deep breath in, long out with a little sound...feels better, emotion passed.
-->Crap. My back is really starting to hurt. I should have doubled up the mats! I knew I was going to be laying here for 2 hours! Why didn't I prepare better?! Should have doubled the mats and put a blanket under knees. I can't lay flat on my back for this long....Holy crap! I sound like my mom!!! No, I'm too young for this s**t! I'm really tired of being injured...I just want my life back....
-->Huh. Interesting thought floating through my head: my injuries are forcing me to be present. Can't zone out when there is a sharp pain in your back. I also think that my injuries force me to connect with people, because I need their help to fix them. When I wasn't injured, I didn't spend too much time with people. I was usually off hiking or doing something on my own. But it also feels like my injuries are also preventing me from fully engaging with the world, because I can't be as active as my friends without there being pain. That's an interesting paradox. I wonder if it's possible for me to engage with the world without needing to be injured to do so...
-->Whoa! It kind of feels like I'm floating. No, not floating. More like sliding backwards. That's really cool. I kind of feel like I just keep rolling backwards...very cool.
-->Crap. My back is really hurting. I wonder if putting my knees up would ruin the experience...like breaking the spell. I don't care, it's hurts and I don't know how much longer this session is going to last. Oh my god! My lower back just popped and shifted. That feels SO much better! Now I can relax a little more...
-->He's just whistling gently now and waving something above us. I think I'm starting to understand the method to this whole thing. The rattles shake everything up. The singing connects to the different chakras that he's focusing on. The drum wakes everything up...you feel alive! More rattles to keep shaking things loose and "move stuff out." Waving whatever it was above us is literally clearing the air. Cool. Hey! Brain, why are you still awake?! Be quiet.
-->Now he's ringing bells and striking notes on, probably, a metal bowl. It sounds amazing and drops me right in. It's like listening to someone hit a church bell. Literally quiets my mind and just...drops me in. There's no better phrase for me. Finally, quiet.
-->He's playing a wind pipe, or flute, or whatever. Picture Native American flute sound. It's so beautiful and it hits a chord somewhere deep inside me. I start crying. The only thought in my head: I want to go home. I don't belong here, this is not my world. The only thing I can think of is being alone in the desert with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home. Big breath in, breathe out...more deep breathing. Nope. Emotion, not passing.
-->Flute done. The room is completely quiet and still. We lay quietly for a few more minutes before giving us the ok to move around and stretch. Holy crap, my back hurts....and my arms are stiff from just laying with them palm up out to the side! Emotion still very raw. Tears quietly rolling down the side of my face as I look at the trees outside the window. I want to go home. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't belong here, this is not my world. Those same thoughts keep running through my head and I can feel the emotion pushing against my chest and throat. What I am doing here? I belong outside, in nature. I don't want to get up. It takes far too much energy to be a part of "that world." Crowds of people on the trains and buses. Loud sirens screaming down the streets with the huge and loud diesel trucks roaring along side them. Wearing clothes I don't like, "dressing up" just so that I can play a part in this world. Spend all day indoors, 5 days a week. Have 1 day to myself. 1 day. Just 1 day to relax and just do something I enjoy. This is not living. What am I doing here?!
-->He's talking, thanking everyone for coming. Everyone enthusiastically thanks him. Namaste, thank you. I can't say anything, there's a lump in my throat. I just lay there on my back with one leg pulled in stretching the outside of my hip Everyone starts getting up around me. They're all happy and talking with each other. Crap. Why did I do this? I wipe the tears from my eyes and make my way to the bathroom and slide down the wall to finally really cry. I don't want to go outside. I just want to stay here. Nope, can't stay here forever, gotta move. I wipe my eyes, wash my face with cold water to wake myself up. I walk back into the room but still feel unsteady. I get some water and sit in front of the partially open window. The fresh air feels SO good. What am I doing here? I sit there for many minutes just feeling the air on my face, trying to steady my emotions and convince myself to move. Everyone's almost gone. Can't stay here forever, gotta move.
-->He sees me as he's packing up his things and asks me how I'm doing. Nervous/slightly annoyed smile and shake my head, more tears. He asks if I want to talk, he's not going anywhere. Sure. I tell him about the thoughts running through my head and he asks where I want to be and what I want to be doing. Where? I'm not completely sure, but I'm starting to get a good idea. It's time to move, away from the city. Not right now. There are things set in motion that I need to go with and see where they end up. I miss the desert. He says, "Maybe it's time to go back." Yeah, it might be. And then I look outside and see the trees...which were one of the big motivations for picking a different climate: no trees like that in the desert. No four seasons like we have here, with flowers and falling leaves. "You could live in many places and follow the seasons." Maybe. What do I want to be doing? God I'm tired of that question. I don't know. "What makes you happy?" I don't even feel like I know anymore. I'm just tired. Tired of trying to figure things out, "soul search," and do work just so that I can get by in this world. "This world? Earth? You feel like you belong somewhere else, Heaven?" Yeah, lol, heaven. No, more like in "civilized" society, the "real world." I told him that I look at all the job listings and think, "I don't want to do any of that. It doesn't interest me in the slightest." He said, "so make your own. You need to find out what your talents are and then find a way to bring them to the world." Hmm. That's a little different way to look at it. We'll see. Again. I've just made a lot of changes and set some things in motion, we'll see what happens...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think that is a deep feeling that's kind of been resting beneath the surface just waiting for a chance to surface. It's not like I didn't know it was there. I've been feeling the desire to move--really move--for the past several months. It's like a part of me knows that I never expected to live here long term--which surprised the hell out of the other part of me, lol. "Wait a sec! I never said that I intended to go back! To the black hole?!" I don't know. Boston no longer feels very free, I feel restricted, almost trapped. Limited transportation, high cost of living...Either way, right now is not the time for a big move--job or location. I think this was just a feeling I'd been keeping suppressed so that I could keep moving through out my days without breaking down or exploding at an innocent by-stander. Maybe it just needed to be heard...to really be heard. Hence the putting it down in some kind of "concrete" form: yes, I felt you, and I acknowledge that there is something else in my life that really needs to change.

But not yet.

Metal Rabbit

2011-03-05T14:00:00.000-05:00

Apparently, today is the Chinese New Year...or is it the Tibetan Chinese New Year. Whatever, I can't keep them straight. Welcome to the year of the "Metal Rabbit!"

I'm usually back and forth on how much stock I place in any sort of astrology, but I find them intriguing whenever I see an article about them somewhere. Anyways, I read the description of what the year of the Metal Rabbit is supposed to bring and it hit very close to home for me right now:

"The year of the Metal Rabbit promises to bring some much needed peace and tranquility. If you are like most people, you probably feel like you were on a roller coaster in 2010, the year of the Tiger. That will generally not be the case in 2011, as the Rabbit is everything the Tiger is not....
This is especially true if you belong to the Rabbit’s group, that is, your sign is Rabbit, Sheep or Pig [I'm a pig, btw]. These, however, are the people most likely to have a great year. If you are one of them, make an extra effort to follow your dreams, seize opportunities, and enjoy the moment....
This year the cautious, slow but sure approach is likely to win the day more than a charge ahead one. The question, then, is what to do in a so-called, peaceful year? Education, for one. Leisurely travel could also provide a nice experience. That means the museum circuit as opposed to trekking the Himalayas. And, pursuing your hobbies, be they ballroom dancing, bridge or gardening is a very Rabbit thing to do and will bring you many happy moments...."
http://www.onlinechineseastrology.com/horoscopes/horoscope-2011-Year-Of-The-Rabbit.aspx

It made me think about my mood lately and especially about what I wrote yesterday. Lately, I haven't felt like moving. Which is extremely odd for me. I'm usually very active and kind of restless. Whenever I have to just sit for hours at a time, I'm usually escaping by daydreaming about something else: running, traveling, my family...anything to take my mind off of where I am or how bored I am. When I ended up sitting in the office for hours at a time back in my old job, I would get up several times throughout the day just simply to stretch. But lately, meaning the last couple of weeks--basically since quitting my old job--I haven't felt like really exerting myself. Before I quit, I daydreamed about all the things I would do during my week off before starting the new job: 2 or 3 yoga classes a day, rock climbing, venturing out to different studios in the city...I reality, I didn't do more than 1 class a day (if that) and sat at home all. day. long. I felt very lazy, but I kind of didn't care. I did go rock climbing, though I almost canceled it because I just felt so un-energetic (I went and ended up climbing for 3 hours and had a blast by the way).

I thought that would change once the new job started, but it was more of the same: I don't really feel like moving. I started worrying a couple of days ago, wondering if I was falling back into a depression--because that's usually my first indicator, I start losing interest in things and basically have no motivation. But I don't think so, because this feeling isn't accompanied with the other tale-tell sign of my depressions: food. When I get depressed (or scared, worried, mad...basically any kind of not pleasant emotion) I eat: a lot. Which is what is comforting right now, because I actually have more of a lack of appetite. For me, that's a good thing. When things are going well in my life, I don't need a lot of food to sustain me. When I spent entire days at track meets, I hardly ate a thing, even though I was running and burning energy. Out on day-long hikes? I eat a good meal before going out and then maybe a granola bar or two. Again, for me, not craving food or constantly thinking about what I want to eat is a really good sign.

So, could it be that this "feeling" that I have, of not wanting to move or exert energy simply be that I am in tune with what is going on at a larger scale? "The year of the Metal Rabbit promises to bring some much needed peace and tranquility. If you are like most people, you probably feel like you were on a roller coaster in 2010..." A roller coaster? Try a war. That's kind of what 2010 (and 2009) felt like; like one long and endless fight. And now, a big part of that fight is over. New job, good roommates, old injury healing well, about to proceed further into something I enjoy (teacher training....which actually falls right in line with the astrology suggestion to engage in education for 2011). Maybe not wanting to move right now is actually a good thing...

It's kind of funny. It kind of feels like after your life has been so intense and unhappy, and so unstable and unsure for so long, any sort of peace or stability feels foreign and suspicious. But maybe it's not. Maybe I'm just finally on track with what I'm "supposed to be doing."

We'll see what happens next ;-)

Re-calculating

2011-03-04T15:43:00.000-05:00

Well. The last time I posted something on this blog was June 19, 2010. 8 months ago. At that time, I was attempting to write 800 words a day for 21 days, as part of a larger online group project from some website I heard about through another blog that I follow.

I didn't get too far. 11 days and 10 posts later, I suddenly found out that I had nothing to write about, except for what was going on in my life...and I kind of didn't feel like sharing, lol.  My writing also felt very forced, like I was changing the way I write to accommodate...something. So, I let it go, decided that wasn't what I wanted to be doing.

Fast forward 4 months and I decided that I did want to share what was going on in my life (foot surgery and recovery) but I didn't want to do it here. I didn't like the set up of blogger and I didn't want everyone else to read what I had been writing here, mostly because I felt like it was very whiny (which makes sense, I was actually feeling very whiny). I didn't want people to see that side of me...the one that feels depressed, hopeless and confused...a lot. It's not very uplifting stuff to read about. I wanted a "fresh start." This new blog was going to be "public" as in I would actually tell the people that I knew about it. And I was trying to be more optimistic. This time felt better, it felt more...authentic. It lasted a little longer. Roughly 2 months and 11 posts. I felt better when I was writing there because I was actively trying NOT to be so pessimistic.

And then things in my life started going haywire. Roommates fighting, housing situation suddenly incredibly unsettled, work situation all shook up.....I had a lot going on that I wanted to talk about but felt like I couldn't and didn't want to really share with people. When things get really crazy in my life, that's when I tend to feel like I need to squirrel myself away so that I can...find a still point. As though it feels hard to do that when there are so many people around. I tend not to talk as much because I don't want to drag people down with the problems of my own life.

So...that blog faded off too.

Skip ahead 3 more months and my life is very different.  My foot is almost completely recovered from the first surgery of my life. The recovery was quick and pretty painless and uneventful. I have 3 other nagging injuries that seem pretty resistant to healing, but that's a whole other story for another time. Right now, I'll just say that I'm working with them. I'm on my third set of roommates; I have now lived with a total of 5 girls and 2 dogs in just 6 months. It has made for a very interesting first living-with-roommates experience and I kind of don't want to live people anymore.  I've made a couple of good friends, but I miss having my own space and not having all my "home responsibilities" spread out. Again...another story for another time, when/if it comes up again.

But, most importantly, I have a new job. After nearly 4 1/2 years, the last 2 of which I have truly despised the place I worked at and the work that I was doing. There were many days when I literally stood at the door leading outside my apartment building, stared at the door with tears in my eyes, thinking to myself, "I can't do this anymore." I'd been saying that almost everyday for the last year, but found I could never really get myself to leave completely. "What for? To switch to yet another 'dead-end' job doing work that I don't care about while I wait for whatever is going to happen next? While I'm 'waiting for my life to start?' " So, I kept going to work, deadening my mind by staring vacantly into the security monitors and destroying the good work ethic I had built back home (in AZ) by refusing to work. If my boss asked me to, I would.  But I wouldn't get up and do it myself. I just didn't care anymore. What finally broke the stalemate? Yoga Teacher Training.

No. Scratch that. The first break was them offering me a different position in the store (I worked for Saks Fifth Ave). Human Resources Assistant. Essentially, in a round about way, I turned it down. It also became very clear to my higher ups (my immediate manager, HR director, and store manager) exactly how much I did not want to be there--in ANY capacity. I no longer wanted to work in the world of security and I had absolutely no interest in the world of high end retail. The company I worked for is a good one. I think they treat their people very well. Problem is the work that they do destroys people. It's hard on their bodies because they have to stand all day long on marble floors with concrete beneath it, in a place with artificial light and dry, re-circulated air. And, for lack of a better word, it's hard on their spirits. #1 "spirit-killing" thing they have to work with: commission-based salary. Having to compete with the people you work with for the money you need in order to survive tends to bring out the worst in people. That being said, I think the ones that do manage to survive in that world and still be decent and caring human beings are truly remarkable people. #2 "spirit-killing" thing: high-end retail. $200 for a pair of jeans? Really?! You don't need that. No one does. High-end retail really is the epitome of a consumer driven world and I think it is truly unnecessary in the world.

Anyways, that's a rant going off in a different direction. Any who, I made it very clear that I didn't want to support that world in any way. The message from my boss started getting very clear: It's time to actually find something else instead of just complaining about how much you hate being here. But I still couldn't get myself to even think about doing any of the jobs that I was seeing in advertisements.

This is when Yoga Teacher Training truly broke the stalemate. All my higher-ups said the same thing: why aren't you teaching yoga? My answer: because I don't want to. But--this is all that I do. When I'm not physically doing yoga, it's usually the thing that occupies my thoughts the most and tends to be the thing that I talk with people about the most. So, I decided that it was finally time to explore what this all really means to me. In Lynne's (owner of the yoga studio I work at) words, "if nothing else, doing a training will bring you some clarity." And as I told her, it's not like I'm doing anything else. So, I decided on a training and immediately knew that my boss wouldn't support it. My yoga work-study schedule (2 days a week) was already too much of a strain on their schedule. I asked anyways, but he confirmed it: nope.

So, that was my proverbial "leap." I told him I was committing to doing the training and would be finding another job. After only around 2 months of dedicated searching and a small handful of interviews, I found it. Concierge at a condo complex. Brand new position, so there are no expectations to live up to--which is kind of nice. Pay is same/slightly more than what I was making at Saks. Same benefits. Boss seems really nice. People I'm working with are nice---one is actually a yoga teacher! And she surfs--which has been something I have wanted to do for a very long time. It's pretty clear that this is where I'm supposed to be next. At this point, the work is...minimal, at best. Then again, it is only my 3rd day. Yes, I'm writing a blog post from my work's computer...which is OK, because it's not monitored ;-) (besides, they told me I could surf the Internet because there would be a lot of downtime...which there most definitely is at this point).

So: new job. Check. New roommates (who actually like each other and are staying at least until the end of the lease). Check. Really good yoga teacher training with a really good teacher. Check (did I mention that it is FREE?).   Everything is set and a lot is going to be changing, life finally moving...somewhere. Good, right? I should be totally jazzed and super excited, right?

Then why aren't I?  Why is the only thing that I'm feeling is this weird kind of...I don't know, unsettled and weary and just generally feeling a lack of passion or excitement for...anything. It kind of just feels like: I'm just here.  It's not content. More like...sedated and resigned...

Hence, the return to this blog. Again, I feel the need to talk/write about what is running through my mind, rather than just simply sit with it. You hear that a lot in yoga: just sit with it. I'm kind of tired of sitting with it. That doesn't accomplish anything. I don't understand it any better and it definitely doesn't go away. One of my favorite and earliest yoga teachers, Cat Kabira, once said during a class that sometimes feelings come up during a yoga class and sometimes it's just something that needs to be released, but sometimes it comes with a story that needs to be told. Right now, it feels like a lot of unsettled things floating around in my head that need to be heard and examined...or at least written down in some kind of concrete form. But, once again, I don't really feel like sharing this kind of stuff so publicly, as in with the people I am closest to and whose opinions I value. Might someone benefit from hearing about it? Sure. That's totally possible. That's why it's on a "public" blog (that anyone could see, provided that they were either looking for it or knew about it). But, there's still a big part of me that I keep very private--either from everyone or just from the people I am closest to.

I think that's what I need this blog to be for. A place for me to talk openly and honestly about what is going on in my life and the things that are running through my mind, without my whole word hearing about it. Once again, who knows how long I'll post on here. It might be very sporadically or, maybe now that I have a whole hell of a lot of downtime on my hands and unsupervised access to a computer, it might be a lot ;-) We'll see what happens this time.

Itchy Travel Feet

2010-06-19T23:30:00.000-04:00

FYI--This was written in two parts: pre and post work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"She kind of got stuck in her life, she waited too long..."

I overheard that in a stranger's random conversation while waiting for the train this morning. I don't know exactly what they were referring to, but it definitely describes one of my biggest fears: that it will be too late to do any of the things that I want to in life by the time that I (A) fix my body, (B) save up enough money, (C) work up enough nerve to do it, and, the big one (D) I figure out what exactly it is that I want. I'm afraid that I'll be stuck in my current job forever without ever doing work that actually matters. I've heard many of the people that have worked in sales for 10+ years say that, at some point they just stopped looking for something else and they just kind of ended up staying in sales...but they're not really happy with it. They just passed that point where they could make a change; that point where they're still relatively unattached and free. What do I want so badly right now, that I'm afraid I'll never get a chance to do again? TRAVEL. When am I ever going to be at this point in my life again? When I'm almost completely unattached. I have no boyfriend, no children, no pets. I've been living with minimal contact with my family for years. I'm not in school any more. I'm not in a job that I like. I'm also not locked into this job. It may feel like it, but I know that I could drop it the second that I wanted to and felt like I could, without putting myself in a place that's obviously worse off than where I am now. I'm not in a contract at my job and I'm not such an integral player that it makes a huge difference whether or not I'm there (as I would if I were a manager or something). There is almost nothing holding me here. I could say "my foot," but how long have I been living with that?! I could certainly manage living with a less than perfect foot, though it would definitely make traveling much easier if it were healthy and strong. The only thing I have to be accountable for is me and my student loans--that one "thing" that still holds me to society and says "you still have to work and earn money."
........................................................................................................................................................................

"It's time to go, I know. I've hung out in the sun long enough that wonder has turned into routine...All the signs are telling me: Move on."

I read that a little over a month ago in an article from the May 2010 issue of the National Geographic Traveler. It was an article titled, "Parting is such sweet sorrow," by Daisann McLane, and in that author's point of view, leaving a place is the "most emotionally intense thing" that travelers do. And I can understand that. You travel someplace completely new and then adapt to a new way of living, often discovering things about yourself and about life that you never would have prior to traveling to that place. In a way, it seems like locations become a part of who you are: California girl, Arizona desert rat...and they carry certain traits with them as well. Whenever I'm back in Cali, I feel that little bit of a tougher side showing through (I was more inland and it was anything but laid-back). Arizona is where I was more laid back and where I cultivated my love for the outdoors, the stars, and my "small town girl," (though my co-workers here would refer to it more as being naive). And Boston...Boston is the "city," where I learned to treasure my communication and connection with complete strangers. Boston is also a wonderfully unique city where history exists alongside the present. You can see it in the old "Puritan" laws that residents hate but refuse to give up; and in the historical buildings whose history was determined to be so important that it's original face cannot be changed (like the "post office" in South Boston that hadn't been one in over 50 years but still said "post office" on the front of the building).

Most importantly, I feel, Boston is where I started getting a glimpse of the vast world that exists outside the United States. Boston is where my adventurous traveler finally had a chance to come out and play. I loved the days where I could just hop on the subway or commuter rail and get off and wander around somewhat aimlessly...just to see a new place. I also learned how much fun and how incredibly rewarding it is to explore new places on your own. For some reason, it seems like people think that if a person (especially a younger woman) travels alone, bad things will absolutely happen. But you know what, I've only ever uncovered kindness. I find that traveling and exploring on your own lets you experience things in a completely different way, because you're not going by someone else's schedule or hearing their point of view. A good example for me is hiking. I much prefer to hike a new place on my own, as "dangerous" as it may be. I go slower, explore my surroundings more, take more pictures and I take more breaks to just stop and absorb the world around me. When I'm with someone else, we tend to move faster and notice less. Basically, you get to experience and see a new place through your own eyes first. And I've come to find that I usually treasure that experience more than when I visited a new area with someone else first. Though it is nice to be able to share the experience with others...that's what pictures are for :-)

It definitely feels like it is time to leave Boston, "wonder has turned to routine," and I feel that pull to pick up and venture out to new places...far away from the U.S. I've even been venturing away from the one "thing" that I thought would be the hardest to leave--my yoga studio. There are amazing and unique teachers here who could never be replaced, but I have a feeling that I will never be too far from a good yoga teacher/studio. Take the knowledge, leave the attachments. I've been trying to remind myself of that for these past few months because I know that I have a tendency to cling on to things that feel safe, secure and comfortable even if they're hurting me or holding me back (like my 6-day a week Ashtanga practice that was damaging my knees). It's not time to leave just yet (as in the next few months) but I feel like it's definitely soon. There's just nothing left for me here. But, until that time comes, for now, for this moment, I'm simply enjoying being exactly where I am: laying out on a blanket on my roof listening to the sounds of the birds and the wind in the trees, mixing with the sounds of cars, buses and my neighbors' voices; while savoring the smell of the restaurant below me and delighting in a spectacular sunset, bringing the end to a particularly beautiful Boston summer day.

~~~Don't ever let anyone tell you that city sunsets are boring :-)

Change

2010-06-17T23:01:00.000-04:00

"What does it mean to change your life?"

Bindu Wiles asked that in her post earlier today and that's something I've been trying to figure out ever since I graduated from college. I've been making lots of changes during this past year: there's now green in my diet that is NOT food coloring; I've participated in and help set-up two pujas (a year ago, I didn't even KNOW what a puja was); I practice yoga with a passion equal to or greater than I did with running; I went on my very first vacation BY MYSELF; I've been more open about my life with people than I EVER have before; I cry a little more (which is actually a huge accomplishment for me) and I laugh a little easier; I got my very first passport (which BEGGING to be used); I drove in Boston for the first time while driving a U-Haul for the very first time--without maiming or killing anyone AND without destroying any property! I made an almost spontaneous decision to move out of a perfectly reasonable and good apartment to a fairly small but comfortable room with 2 complete strangers, I'm now sharing my writing with an entire WORLD of strangers when I used to get nervous whenever my teachers read my papers.

I also realized something during my yoga practice today as my forehead and hands reached my foot in a variation of Hanumanasana (a.k.a "splits pose") where your front leg is straight, your back leg is bent up and then you reach your hands and (maybe) your head back to your foot: my body has come a long way during this last year. My "runner's" body probably would not have been able to do a pose like that because my quads and many other areas were always super tight. That pose felt phenomenal! A perfect balance between "strength and surrender." And, after feeling how great it felt, the first thought that came to my mind, that I felt, was "I don't want to leave this place." "Place" having several meanings. The physical location: it was in one of my favorite studios and I was practicing next to a couple of the wonderful new friends that I've made through yoga. The shape my body was in, mainly the back bend. I've been loving back bends lately because they just make me feel so free. But also the strength and flexibility that my body has gained through the practice of yoga. Some areas might not be as physically strong as they were during different times of my life, but it feels different...more integrated? Kind of like the entire body feels strong and not just a few select areas? I'm still figuring out how to put words to that experience. "Place" also meant my state of mind at that moment...so open, free, happy and alive. That's definitely one good word to describe the difference in my body now, it feels alive. Every part of it, and that's hard to understand myself sometimes, let alone try to explain it to other people. Bindu had posted a reply from another person doing the 21-5-800 project: "Don't ask what the world needs, ask what makes you come alive. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." I have never felt more alive than I do when I practice yoga. I can't explain it, but that's the best way to describe it.

But I also feel like it's been slipping from me as I keep getting more and more frustrated with the one area of my life that has seen NO movement or change ever since I realized that it needed it: my job. I know I have some days where I actually feel like I'm doing good there but more often than not, it feels like a giant area of stagnation and on my really bad days there, it feels like my "spirit" is dying. Melodramatic? Possibly. Though there have been many days where I look at the door to work and think, "I can't spend another minute in that place." I also can't figure out how to make a change. It's that question I was contemplating a few days ago: is it the place and the job that need to change? Or just me? "What does it mean to change your life?" What kind of change do I need in that area of my life? And the answer is always the same: I don't know. Obviously positive and genuine interaction is important for me. As is physical movement. One of my favorite past jobs was working as a beach attendant, where I hauled around luggage, bags of ice and canopies outside in the sun and lake air for 5 days a week. And I loved it....until it got quiet and there was no work to do. My mind craves work, stimulation, a challenge...whatever. In other words, it needs to be used AS WELL AS my body. In that view, my last career objective should have been ideal: law enforcement. Definitely a challenging job on all fronts. Except that working on the very fringe of it felt like it was going against my nature and it was changing my personality in ways that I didn't like. I want a challenge, yes, but not unending stress that leaves your heart and spirit depleted of trust and a sense of peace and of goodness in people. I know that many people are able to do that job without coming to that result, but simply being on the fringe of the law enforcement field was having that effect on me. On top of that, it felt too restraining physically. I've had itchy travel feet for the last 2-3 years.

That is another thing that makes me feel alive: TRAVEL. There is something so freeing about it. Getting to see and experience how other people live without being attached to anything about it. It's as though because you don't live there and you aren't a part of that community, you get to experience all the good things about it. I'm not sure why, it's just a feeling I get. That's what I see when I travel to new places, I see all the beauty and amazing things that are there. I can obviously see some negative aspects of it (gravity and "homeless" people being the easiest to see) but it's like all the "good" parts overshadow it. As though, "yes, there is this 'bad' thing, but there is also this wonderful thing and this is worth remembering, because it is exists despite all the 'bad' things going on around it." Reminds me of how excited I get whenever I see random acts of kindness in a bigger city like Boston. A homeless person sharing his food with the pigeons, people giving up their seats on the subway or bus for someone else, someone pausing for a moment to hold a door open for someone they don't know, a group of skateboarders patiently taking turns practicing their tricks on the steps of the public library but stopping to let people walk by....there are so many. It feels like it is so much easier to see the negative side of things, why is that? I'm far from perfect and I definitely have days where I don't see that. But when I travel, it feels like it's easier to see the beauty in places and things. I feel "unburdened," by my own problems, and by the rules and norms of society because I don't live in the place I'm traveling to. I still respect the customs of wherever I am, but when you are a traveler, it's kind of expected and accepted that you'll slip up because you don't know how you're supposed to act. And it's ok not to fit in completely because you're not actually a part of that community. You're free, "boundless."

Learning also makes me feel "alive." You gain more knowledge, insight and skills and it feels like it's easier to see a bigger picture of the world around you; and to see how more things connect to each other. Nature, being outside in it and interacting with it also makes me feel very "alive." So does talking with people: listening to their stories, maybe even being able to help them in some way. Then there is also physical movement. I've been an active person for as long as I can remember and actually being able to use my body definitely makes me feel more alive: yoga, martial arts, running, kayaking, hiking, swimming...Again, I have no problem thinking about and figuring out all the things that make me feel "alive," or passionate, or happy. I just can't figure out where to go from here or what to do next. I feel like I keep chasing around the same ideas without any actual thoughts on what to purse or how to do it. It kind of feels like I'm beating my head against a wall, or the proverbial "dog chasing its tail." And it always leads me to the same conclusion: "I don't know." Quickly followed by, "I'm tired." :-) What does it mean to change your life? The recurring themes seem to be movement, deeper connections, knowledge and growth. And it feels like I'm seriously lacking in all these areas in my current job. So what needs to change? Me? The job? Both? Sri K Pattabhi Jois has said, "Practice, and all is coming." I sure hope so.

"Find comfort in the pose"

2010-06-16T01:20:00.000-04:00

I had a small epiphany today: open, honest and genuine communication can completely alter a situation. I had a good day at work. I'm always more than a little amazed when I'm having a fairly enjoyable day at work. Probably because I hated everything about it with so much passion for so long. Actually, my "dis-passion" was the only thing I was passionate about (I know, I'm ending sentences with a preposition...send in the grammar Nazis!). Am I eating my own words from the previous post when I was so completely frustrated with the reminder that "it's not the situation that needs to change, just your attitude?" Quite possibly. I saw a sign in a window today that read, "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll still land among the stars." My immediate reaction was a small smile and I felt the slightest lift in my spirit...until "that" part of my mind chimed in and said, "Sure, unless you fall so short that you end up burning up in the atmosphere." Ouch! Really?! When did I get that pessimistic?! And I only say and think things like that to and about myself. I have far more encouraging thoughts and words for others, and I believe and hope for every one of them. So why don't I do the same for myself?

So, anyways, work was surprisingly good, and it was doing one of the things I usually hating doing the most: meetings. One of my responsibilities is holding little "trainings" or meetings with the people in my areas of responsibility. And I despise doing it. I don't like having to be in the center of attention and "speaking" in front of other people. I hate having everyone watching me and having to provide answers. I'm always afraid of giving out the wrong information, of it being interpreted wrong and then having people end up doing something wrong and then being responsible for it. I don't like being responsible for other people's actions. Aside from that, the "meeting" topics tend to be repetitive and feel worthless as they only seem to exist to fulfill some audit point. It also often feels like no one actually cares about anything I was talking about. Today was different. I had to go over the results from the store's recent inventory count and discuss the areas of high shortage (a.k.a "loss"). I was surprised to see how interested people were in the subject. Even more than that, I was surprised at their input. The other part of the meeting was to discuss what they thought might be responsible for the shortage. It was a good reminder why it's important to listen to people outside your usual "field" on whatever the topic may be because they literally have a different point of view--their experience with it is different so what they see is different. When I see shortage, I automatically see theft. That's literally all I see. I look for theft, that's my job. But, as anyone who has ever worked in retail can probably tell you, there are so many other "legit" (meaning not dishonest or illegal) ways for a shortage/loss to occur. I won't go into them because this isn't the place for it, but that's not the point. The point is that I wouldn't have even been aware of it if I didn't talk to and listen to people who have a different experience with it and, therefore, see other aspects of it. Some of it may not be accurate or relevant, some of it might be...but that's something we'll eventually figure out as we keep watching what happens in the store.

Another thing I loved about today was getting to talk honestly and openly with other people. And you know what, people have a lot to say! And many times I think people just want someone to listen and be open and interested in what they have to say. To really hear what they're concerned about and think is important. It felt like a really productive day because it felt like I really had them more aware, engaged, and interested in what is going on in the store. I also learned more about the people who work in the store, the people who shop in the store and about the store itself.

I also got a nice treat during my lunch break. I got to eat lunch with a couple of my "yoga buddies." Though I do enjoy being alone to get a mid-day "re-charge" by resting and listening to music during my break, this was a nice change. I feel like if I had done that today I would have actually lost energy. I also feel like I don't get to spend a lot of time with friends so I rarely turn down an opportunity to be around them.

My yoga practice this morning was a "slow vinyasa." One thing I love hearing my yoga teachers say is to "find enjoyment/ease/comfort" in the pose. We all have poses that are among our least favorite and make us groan every time the teacher says to do them. I get varying instructions on them. One teacher likes to remind us that it's our practice and that we don't want to do something in our practice, or if it isn't serving or benefiting us, then we don't actually have to do what they say...what we do in our practice is our choice. The other is what Kai over at The Reluctant Ashtangi said, "If it feels hard, it’s worth exploring." This could actually tie in with the first set of instructions...how do you know if it's serving or benefiting you if you aren't present and don't explore it? Me? I tend to zone out whenever poses get difficult or intense. It's kind of an effort to "quiet the mind" so that I can get the benefit of whatever the pose is. Problem is I'm also not breathing as deeply. In fact, sometimes I stop breathing all together. Neither one of those is good...especially when it's warm in the studio, makes you really dizzy :-) Not only that, I'm also missing an opportunity to learn what is making the pose difficult. Is it an alignment issue? Injury? Or simply yoga "growing pains," where parts of my body are getting used, stretched and open that have never before received any attention? Won't ever know if I zone out and completely shut the mind down...might as well give it some good work to do if it insists on voicing its opinion during my practice. Sometimes it seems like yoga has a very negative view of "the mind," like it's this useless thing that exists outside ourselves and serves merely to tear and weigh us down and must be disposed of. That could just be me. Either way, I think there is a good reason for "the mind" and that we just have to use that part of ourselves in a healthier more productive way...enter one of the many aims of yoga. Actually applying that theory...I think that's one of the hardest "practices" out there. I'm still working on that :-)

Un-inspired

2010-06-14T23:25:00.000-04:00

It's the end of the day and I really have nothing to write about. I did laundry, read blogs, made a bunch of quinoa for the rest of the week, and picked up a last minute shift at the yoga studio. Nothing to really write about. Thoughts running around in my head...nothing I haven't already covered yet. I'm really stuck. Kind of like my life, lol. I've analyzed every part of my life and behavior to death, read several "find-your-idea-career" books and listed everything that I love to do, don't like to do, what I'm passionate about...on and on. And I ended up not practicing yoga today. I feel pretty un-inspired and stuck. Think that about covers it. Better to write a few words of meaning than rambling on in circles to meet a word count? Today, I'm thinking yes. I learned during my last year of college that when I felt like I wasn't getting anywhere in a paper, it was better to shut the computer off and rest and then wake up fresh and with better focus. On that note, goodnight all, here's wishing everyone a restful night wherever you are.

Dementors in Limbo

2010-06-13T22:17:00.001-04:00

"Be grateful for what you have." "It's not the circumstances that need to change, just your attitude towards them."

I hear versions of these sentiments many times in yoga classes and many times, they actually make me a little angry. I am grateful for the good things that I have in my life. I am grateful for a strong immune system despite having a less than healthy diet. I am grateful for a relatively strong and limber body (despite some chronic injuries). I am grateful for my great new roommates who are quickly becoming friends. I am so grateful for my yoga practice and that I have access to some pretty phenomenal teachers and studios. I am grateful to have a boss who actually cares about the well-being of his employees. I am thankful to live in a city whose mayor reminds people to check on their elderly neighbors during times of crisis and extreme weather; to be in a city where the subway uses professional athletes to advertise being courteous to other riders on the trains. I am grateful to be in a city where it is possible and even sometimes more economical and more efficient to live without a car. I am grateful to be able to live with an animal again. That I have a computer with access to the Internet so that I am able to easily access information and be able to stay connected with friends and family. I could keep this list going on for quite a while. I have no problem finding things in my life for which I am grateful. And I'm fully aware that having a positive attitude can make even the worst of situations better. So, with all that, why is it that whenever I stop moving and/or am not "doing something," I feel nothing but frustration and a strong urge to find a way to escape my life. No; I am not suicidal--I never have been. I'd actually be far more likely to drop off the face of the planet to travel "aimlessly" around the world a pied (by foot); who knows, could actually be what I need, lol. Indeed it's quite the opposite--I want to live!

Limbo. That's how I refer to my life at this point. It's where I've felt like I've been ever since I graduated from college a year and a half ago. It was a major transition for me because I lost two huge elements of my identity: “student” and “runner.” I'd been a student for my entire conscious life: preschool, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school and 7 1/2 years of college. My entire life revolved around being a student: when you go to sleep, when you wake up, when you go to work, what kind of job you do, when you do any sort of extracurricular activities, any sort of social life (which I didn't have)...everything is centered around helping you achieve that one massive goal of obtaining a college degree. So, what do you do when it's gone? For some, the answer might be obvious: more education or going to work in the field of your degree. But what if you discover that you don't want to do either one of those? And what if you lost the ability to do the only other thing in your life that gave you fulfillment? During my last track season I fractured my foot and was forced into a sedentary life for 3 months directly after I finished my last semester in college AND after I had moved into my very first apartment and was living completely by myself. To use a term from Harry Potter, you get to live with your very own "Dementor." For those who have never read Harry Potter, here is a brief description of what that fictional creature is:

"..They glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them... Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you."

That is the best description of what those months while I was in the boot and during the many weeks of physical therapy felt like. So, in more recognizable terms, you end up falling into a deep depression...until a voice inside of you finally screams loud enough, "this is not me!!!" Then you fight like hell to get out.

I didn't start practicing yoga because of the depression. I was already starting to work my way out of it once I was finally more mobile. But I was a bit too overzealous and I ended up injuring my back after embarking on a hike that my body was not yet ready for (it seems I have this tendency to do "too much, too soon, too fast"). I was once again rendered immobile and I said to myself, "I am not doing this again!" Then I found myself doing the only movement that didn't bring pain to my body: yoga. I can see now that it is also slowing helping to give me my life back. My body is finally able to move again and is getting stronger in some areas (while others obviously need more support than just yoga can give). My moods are considerably more stable and brighter than they used to be. And, after almost 3 years of seeing nothing but the bad side of people through my work, my relationship to other people is healing as well.

So why do I still feel the need to escape? Because I still spend 5 days a week at a place I can't stand doing work that I hate, and I need to leave my job? Or is it simply my outlook that needs to change? When is it the circumstances/environment that need to change and not just you? It kind of reminds me of the contrast between sociology and psychology. Sometimes it seems like sociology sees the individual as being completely controlled by his/her surroundings (i.e. society) without any ability to think and act independent of the society he/she is in; while it seems like psychology places far too much responsibility on the individual without taking into account the pressures from the outside world (i.e., media, advertising, cultural traditions, social norms, etc). This could all very well be factually inaccurate, but that's how it seems to me. But that's straying a little too far off on a different tangent...

Either way I have been doing a lot better, but all that came to the forefront of my mind again after someone at work asked me if I had gone through any sort of depression after I couldn't run anymore. I remember thinking, "Oh yeah, you don't know the half of it, lol." Yesterday, Bindu Wiles posted a blog topic on fear. She asked, "What are you afraid of?" For me, I'm afraid that I'll never find my place in this world, and that I'll forever be stuck in this state of limbo with a life that has no purpose. I'm also terrified that there's serious damage to my foot and back (and now also my knee!) and that I'll never recover and be able to do all the things that I want to do. It's still a daily struggle not to fall into that depressive mode, so I do my best to keep looking for healthy ways to deal with it. Yesterday I read an article on Beliefnet.com that discussed what to do if you start falling back into a relapse of any sort (addiction, depression, etc) and there were a couple suggestions in particular that really caught my eye: "With severe depression or a crippling addiction, though, positive thinking can sometimes make matters worse." Which would explain why those sentiments I talked about at the beginning of this post make me upset. As the author also says in this article, people who are depressed or are fighting an addiction tend to have super low self-esteem and feel like they are the worst possible people in the world. So, when I hear people saying "be grateful for what you have; it's not the situation, just your attitude towards it, etc," it makes me feel like I'm weak, even deserving, of the depression because I can't just simply be happy by "changing my attitude." You beat yourself over the head because, "hey, what do you have to be depressed about?! Don't you realize how bad other people have it?!" That's a hard thought to push away because it makes so much sense; until I'm able to pull in the non-competitive attitude I learned through yoga. Our pain and suffering is not a competition. It doesn't matter how small it is in comparison to what other people are going through. The circumstances of each person's life are different and all that matters is that someone is hurting, for whatever the reason may be. The outward expression of whatever it is might be different, but the feelings tend to be similar. Reminds me of a quote I saw on a fellow 21-5-800 member's site: "Be kind. Everyone is fighting a great battle." -St. Athanasious

The article also suggests to "say yes anyways:" "Always say yes to an invitation out. That keeps you from isolating, which is so easy to do when you're grieving or stuck in a depression or off the wagon in a big way." Even though I just read this article, this was a big reason why I took a leap and decided to live with roommates. I finally accepted that, during this time of my life, it is not best for me to spend that much time alone. I know that, sometimes, simply being around caring people (without even talking to them) is enough. I do still need time to myself to process and re-charge and I definitely make sure that I get enough of it.

When I read that suggestion in the article, I took it as a hint to change up my yoga practice for today. I went to 2 classes that a couple of my friends were teaching. The first was a sweet, gentle little class held outside amongst rose bushes, trees, and birds :-) What, I ask you, could be LESS depressing? I LOVE practicing outside: getting to feel the air on my skin, actually getting to see the sky when the teacher says "reach to the sky;" feeling the grass beneath my feet and hands; a dog that has strayed away from its owner coming over to say hello, reminding us not to take our yoga too seriously ;-). The grass hadn’t been mowed, so it was very high and made a tiny wall around our towels (no mats, this was “old-school”style!) that kind of gave me the feeling actually being “held” during savasana. This class was the embodiment of "community" yoga: it was outside in a neighborhood meeting area, in the open for everyone to see and to join; donation only, so it was affordable; and it was a gentle practice, so it was accessible for all body types and levels. We even had a mother and her two daughters stroll by and join us on a whim! Very sweet little practice :-) The second class was also a community class but held inside one of my favorite yoga studios. It's a one-room studio where I literally feel welcomed and accepted as soon as I enter. The class was full of a variety of twists and a few fun standing balance sequences. I also got to see some yoga buddies that I haven't really talked with in a while. I am so grateful that by changing my practice and accepting invitations to go out, I was able to support my friends during the beginning stages of their lives as yoga teacher, and that I was able to receive the best hug that I've had in a while :-)

What's most important

2010-06-13T00:15:00.000-04:00

I'm forgoing hitting the 800 word count for today in favor of what I think is most important for this moment: talking with my new roommates and forming real connections with them, rather than keeping to myself and playing the hermit card so that I will hit my 800 word limit. That and sleep :-)

I do enjoy journal writing because it gives me a chance to process everything that has happened during my day, but sometimes what I really need is the human connection...to get myself out of my head. I've discovered that it's easy for things to seem worse than they are when the only opinion you have is the same overly critical voice that's followed you for the majority of your life...your own. So, no 800 words for today. I went to work, had an intense day in the world of retail security, let some of it loose during my evening vinyasa yoga class and then had some positive human interaction with my roommates...and the dog :-)

Day of Rest

2010-06-11T23:28:00.000-04:00

Today, my yoga practice was one that is always a little difficult for me: not going to class. I decided that I needed a day off because all the signs were showing that I was not letting myself slow down. Clothes are piling up, my dishes aren't clean and my eyes have been drifting closed at work because I usually end up writing later at night. All good signs that today is an off-day. It's always one that is a little hard for me because I still have the old runner's mentality that says you can't miss a day of running because you'll fall behind: you're body is going to get stiff, your muscles are going to get weak...Which is crazy because it's only one day. Even one of the most intense yoga practices that I've seen (Mysore Ashtanga) has a regular day of rest, sometimes 2 when there is a Moon Day (either a full or new moon). And if you're a lady then you're even luckier because their view is that you should rest more during "that time of the month;" it's even called a "ladies holiday!" Furthermore, if you believe in this faith, even God gave Himself a day of rest back when the world was being created. I'm not a Christian and religion is still an undecided and confusing topic for me, but if we can be open to the idea that even a higher being needs a day off, then maybe it won't kill us if we take one too :-)

On the physical level, your body needs tie to rest, recover and rebuild. I learned that in my weight training classes back in high school: you are supposed to space out your workouts because when you workout you're literally breaking your muscle down so that it can grow back stronger. But it's hard for something to grow and rebuild if you keep breaking it down and never give it a chance to rest! These kinds of days can actually reveal a lot about what other areas of your life need attention, if any, because you have to rely on them instead of your physical (asana) yoga practice. It also gives you a chance to see how your asana practice is effecting your body. One of the biggest things I usually tend to notice is how food effects my body. If I eat too much junk food and I haven't had a physical yoga class, I can really feel how much it weighs down my body. It literally feels like it gets stuck in my body. And not just in my stomach, but also in my arms, neck, legs, back...everywhere. Which makes sense when I remember something a friend (who is also a yoga teacher and holistic health counselor) told me: "your food literally becomes a part of your body." So when you fill it with junk, that is going to be coursing through your veins and muscles. Does that mean that I never eat junk food? Of course not. Just like my friend and pretty much everyone else that lives in the U.S, I live in the "real" world where sometimes I run late and forget to make my food; or I want to enjoy a tasty sweet or go out for food with friends (or family when I am with them). But I've also really started to notice that if I eat too much of it, I start to get cranky and my body doesn't feel so good. That's even more apparent when I haven't been to a yoga class where I can bend, twist and sweat the toxins out of my body. So after a lifelong diet that rarely included vegetables and cooking my own meals but always included highly processed and sugary foods, this is always an area of my life that I am working on.

I recently completed a 21-day detox which was the longest that I had ever been able to keep sugar and processed foods out of my diet. At one point, there was a giant platter of my favorite cookies hanging out in my office at work and I didn't feel the urge to even eat a little bite of them. I felt pretty incredible. My moods were more stable and even if I couldn't notice too many other changes in my body, there was no mistaking the benefit it made to my yoga practice. I could get deeper into my twists and it was easier to access the muscles in my abdominal area. And then "life" happened. I knew it would and I tried to hang on as long as I could, but it was causing me more stress and discomfort to keep resisting than to just let myself be knocked off balance for a little while. The "life" I'm talking about was a whirlwind trip to visit 8 family members in 2 states within the span of a week followed by moving to a new apartment with 2 complete strangers. All the traveling meant that I wasn't cooking and the foods my family and I were eating were definitely not the most healthy. I've done this process before: kicking out the sugar and junk food for a while, something happens and it slips back in, and then I have to try and balance it back out. I'm still in the balance it back out phase. Because cooking is still very new for me, I'm super self-conscious about cooking in front of people (especially when one is a good cook, like one of my new roommates) because I'm afraid that I'm doing it wrong. Which is an odd idea since cooking is all about experimenting and discovering what is best for your body. And both of my new roommates are very open and non-judgmental people. But I still get really self-conscious and feel like I'm being watched and judged; and then I kind of just give up and resort to my old comfort foods: bagels and cereal. Both of which seriously lack in any real nutrition. It's a process that is made even more difficult when you take into account the fact that sugar is addictive and I react very strongly to it, especially when I'm frustrated with other important areas of my life (like my job). Adding in the fact that it is included in the vast majority of pre-packaged and processed foods that are readily available for those who are "on-the-go" makes it very difficult to knock myself back out of this habit. So, I think it's time to bring back my new, easy, simple and healthy "go-to," comfort food: kitchari. Kitchari is wonderful. It's simple and it's a very complete meal. I've also used it as a sort of foundation to move from, adding a few more veggies or switching up the grains, etc. Here's the recipe that my Mysore teacher gave us when we did an Ayurvedic cleanse last year:

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"1 c. Basmati Rice
½ c. mung dahl (Split mung dahl is yellow color and can be purchased at Asian and Indian groceries. If it has added coloring, rinse double well in cold water and soak for a few hours before cooking, or overnight)
1 c steamed vegetables of your choice (one at a time)
1 Tbsp ghee
1 tsp each as you like, whole or powdered: cumin seed, fresh ginger, fennel seed, coriander, turmeric, salt.
Fresh cilantro (optional)

Cook the rice and dahl together with [3] c. water. White rice takes about 20 min. On the side sauté the spices in the ghee (except turmeric, you just add this one at the end) a few minutes, until you can smell them. Don’t burn your spices. These will be added along with salt before eating. If the veggies steam quickly you can throw them in with the grains and spices, stir with fork and cover for the last 5 minutes of grain time. If they are longer cooking, cook them on the side and add in with the spices for the last 5 minutes."
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On her blog, she said to use 6 cups of water, but when we did the cleanse, she said 3. I imagine that 6 would make it more like a soup, which would probably taste just as good. Either way, it's super simple and it tastes pretty fantastic. I find the philosophies and teaching of Ayurveda intriguing and very important to American society because in this view, food is medicine. My teacher always reminded us that "Food and the act of eating is sacred. Sit down; connect with your meals. Chew. Relax. Enjoy." I think in modern society where we are growing increasingly disconnected from the foods we eat, that idea is an important one to remember.

Runner's heart

2010-06-11T01:21:00.000-04:00

"Would you still run and compete like you did in college if you could?"

One of the sales associates at my store asked me that as he was leaving today. Like me, he used to run. I ran track and cross country throughout all of high school and for one semester in college. That last semester was incredible. I had just started running again after taking about 3 years off to let my body recover from numerous injuries. I was faster than I ever was in high school, my body felt stronger and I enjoyed it more. This last time around, I had a wonderful coach who was happy with any sort of improvement--be it a better time or simply having built the strength it takes to carry a consistent pace. I also had a better mentality. It's kind of funny: getting to run races with people who were so phenomenally out of my league actually made the experience more enjoyable by taking out the competition with other people. I had no hope of ever being close to running at their pace; so it became more just about improving myself against my own standards (rather than comparing my efforts to other people's). I was also a better coach to myself. Due to schedule conflicts, I had to do the majority of the practices on my own early in the morning. My coach would email or text me my workouts, I'd do them and then tell her the results. It really became my own practice. I warmed up the way I felt was best, took as long as I needed to when I stretched and gave myself more recovery time between sets than I would normally get or allow myself to have in a regular team practice. I would even do extra sets of whatever I was doing simply because it felt so good and I wanted to push myself beyond what I thought I could do. That was definitely some of my best running.

However, the same thing happened to my body that always did when I ran track: we went to war. Ibuprofen became a daily vitamin and my shins were always wrapped in Ace wrap and athletic tape after the shin splints returned to both of my legs. After the season ended, my body won and I stopped running because the pain in my right foot had become unbearable. After seeing 3 doctors, it was discovered that I had been running on a stress fracture. I cracked a bone directly where the foot bends. Three months in a cast boot (2 on crutches), over 14 total weeks of physical therapy, at least 4 cortisone injections and almost 2 years later, my foot is still hurting. I haven't run with any sort of consistency in months--just a handful of sporadic attempts.

Do I miss running? Of course I do. It was a huge part of my life for a long time and eventually became a part of who I am--a part of my identity. I miss the simplicity of running. Just throw on a pair of shoes and off you go. I almost never ran with headphones because I liked being able to hear what was going on around me. And, as someone who developed asthma when I was young, I liked being able to hear myself breathe. Running is where I first learned how to control my breathing. I miss running early in the morning when the city is still sleeping and quiet but nature is awake and coming back to life. I miss feeling the sun and the breeze on my face and I even miss running into the wind. It always felt like I got an extra boost of air, like it was a reminder to take a breath. Some people run as an escape or a way to tune things out--but for me, it was almost like getting to connect with and be a part of the world around me. Not to mention the simple act of running felt good--like my legs were set free and were able to really move. I miss the endurance base that running gave me for every other activity that I did. Of course, there was the slim runner's body with legs of steel. Lately, my legs feel anything but strong.

But there were things I didn't like as well. My muscles were perpetually tight and sore, even if I stretched. I usually developed a persistent hacking "runner's cough" that hurt my chest, lungs and back. Oh, and I was always battling some injury (did I mention the shin splints, lol). And I tended to be a bundle of nerves because I was always worrying about an upcoming race and about reaching my goal times. So would I still compete if I could? Probably not. Too much competition tended to suck the joy out of the activity. Would I still run if I could? I don't know yet. I find great joy in it, but it obviously takes a toll on my body.

Thankfully, now I've found a way to move and strengthen my body without destroying it, through yoga :-) Today was a Vinyasa type class that highlighted so many things that I love about the practice. I love that it is an exercise that uses your entire body. That you can often achieve more by relaxing and easing into a pose that by tensing up and muscling into it. To get the breath so deep that you can literally feel it in places where you don't actually have lungs! And it feels soo good to stretch and open up parts of your body that you didn't even realize were accessible. We did a pose that has become one of my new favorites: Parivrtta Surya Yantrasana--otherwise known as "compass pose." It had been a long time since I had done that pose and now my body is so open that it feels absolutely amazing because of the deeper stretch along the side of the body and in the back of the extended leg. And then there's the fun of "gravity surfing," when you're able to find that balance between muscle strength and the power of breathing to flow between different arm balances! We did one of my favorite sequences that is getting easier every time I do it :-) Asta Vakrasana to Eka Pada Koundinyasana II with a jumpback to chatarunga. It's really quite incredible when all the elements fall into place and you are able to move through challenging sequences with grace. And then you are rewarded further by getting to drift off into a blissful savasana at the end of class...

I think that I will always be a runner in my heart and I hope that one day I will be able to run again. But, for now, yoga is what seems to be serving my body and mind the most; like this is just the next step in whatever I'm "supposed" to be doing :-)

Waking Up

2010-06-10T00:21:00.001-04:00

I'm always amused that I when I sit down to "write" (like I did in college) I always think that I don't know how I'm going to hit a certain word count because I don't "know what to write." I just wrote my friend an email that was WELL over the 800 word count. I didn't even have to physically write it out first (as in pen/pencil and paper) in order to "get the juices flowing." It's probably because it was to a friend and I feel like she's an open and comfortable place to talk so freely that I don't feel like I have to structure my thoughts. They just come together, naturally.

This is a bit harder, at first. I knew what I wanted to say to my friend, but what do I want to say here for all the world to see (or at least those with internet access)? There a lot of thoughts roaming around my head today, which tends to happen when you wake up the mind :-) At first the commotion was actually welcome. There have been so many days during these past several months that I've felt pretty numb.

First off, a brief note about what I do for roughly 7.5-8.5 hours/day, 5 days a week at roughly 37.5 hours a week. I work in loss prevention for a high end retail store (think $1000 handbags and clothing, yes these things ACTUALLY exist). This means that the majority of my time at work is spent watching several monitors and numerous cameras for anyone who might try to steal. I won't say much more than that because it is a sensitive job and this is the internet. So, sounds exciting, right? Sure...when something is happening. When nothing is going on, it becomes mind-numbingly boring and you are left with only the thoughts in your head to keep you occupied. Some days I would swear that I could feel my brain cells dying. And then when something does happen, I have conflicting thoughts over it. I'm happy that we caught someone and stopped them from getting away with committing a crime, and that we did our jobs well...but I'm also upset that the satisfaction comes at someone else's expense. Because when things settle down, you realize that they're human, and that some of them are going through some pretty rough things in their life. I know that there are other angles from which to look at this. You could say that you're helping to stop them from doing things that are destructive to their lives--not to mention to others--and that you're forcing them to stop and look at what they're doing in their lives and how it impacts others. But I don't actually get to see that. It's a nice thought that can help keep me sane, but I don't actually know that's what happens; that there's any improvement in their lives. It's not a "mission" or goal of mine that I have to accomplish whenever I catch someone, it's just that I don't like to see people destroying their lives when there is so much potential in every human being. When I went to a prison during my internship in college (I was a criminal justice and sociology major) I was amazed, albeit horrified, at the ingenuity of people who often had no "higher education" but were highly motivated and had nothing but time perfect their skills.

Anyways, I guess it's the insufficient amount of positive human interaction in my job that tends to cause me a lot of stress. That and the isolation. The sitting in an office that is separated from the activity of the rest of the store, staring into cameras all day long. Though we are definitely encouraged to walk around the store, I guess I decided that wasted movement was the worst of two unappealing choices. But it also became very frustrating to keep sitting in a place that brought me so much dissatisfaction, so I kind of started shutting everything down.

Which is what I am now trying to correct through writing...which has made me remember the other reason for shutting off the mind--I think about a lot of stuff. I think about my life, the lives of the people in my family and also larger more macroscopic things about our society as well as "life" in general. All those thoughts running around in my head was one reason yoga became so appealing--it gave my mind a chance to stop moving. But it also felt like a part of me was missing. Of course, once I started doing more yoga, I also became more interested and wanted to know more about it: why we were doing certain poses, why we held them for whatever length, where it all came from, why it effected people in the ways that it does. Which, poses aside, is the usual gamut of questions that runs through my head when I think about the things I see and experience in life. I try to understand something's nature and how it relates to things at both the macro and micro levels. Sometimes I make some pretty interesting connections (or at least what I think are interesting and make sense to me); other times it's harder to see.

But, after many months of practicing yoga, an interesting thing has happened. The time spent looking at the cameras has almost become something like a meditation. I'm observing things about the people and things I see AND I'm watching my own thoughts as I'm doing it. It's also getting easier to determine which thoughts and ideas I should just let pass through my mind and which ones actually deserve attention at that moment. Like today, I realized that--for today--taking notice of this process was important because it made work more tolerable and a little more interesting. Being able to see a shift in my thinking was more important than what I was actually thinking about today. Thought I know well from experience that if there's something else in my mind that also needs attention, it'll keep appearing :-)

Now, on the the best part of my day: YOGA!!! Today was a Forrest yoga day. I'd been sitting for most of the day and I needed to twist and get some deep stretches. Anyone who has taken a Forrest yoga class knows that it can get Deep (yep, that's deep with a capital 'D') because you're in those poses for a long time. It's great because it gives you plenty of time to (A) get a stretch and create some new space, (B) you get more time to see how making a slight shift in the pose can totally change what you feel in the pose. Other times, the poses are more of a strength-builder (like being in Warrior 1 legs throughout several sequences) which challenges you to keep your focus without resorting to beating yourself over the head for falling short of your expectations when you do. I say "when" because it's inevitable: eventually everyone falls out of a pose. As my friend noted in her own blog (and as any good yoga teacher will tell you): learning how to fall with grace, humor and acceptance is part of the practice. Of course, the most important part is that you keep coming back but, this time, with more knowledge on what you need in order to be in a pose--to have a certain posture AND be able to breathe deeply while in it. I was very wobbly tonight. I have a chronic foot injury that has been acting up lately and it made several standing balance poses that are usually simple for me a little more difficult. I also noted a re-occurring and amusing thing that has developed during just about any ab sequence: my abs don't like to do any work, lol! EVERYTHING else will do work--namely my hip flexors, back, neck...face, lol--but the abs are chillin. We finish the ab sequence, people groan and clutch their stomachs; I groan and stretch out my hip flexors and try to breathe some space into my back--which, for anyone who practices Forrest knows that is the exact opposite of what is supposed to happen, lol. I'm discovering that, for right now, I have to do the less "advanced" option of the ab section in order to get the abs to wake up!

Another thing I love about Forrest yoga is how deep it gets me in savasana. Through my Mysore practice, I have come to learn that savasana ("corpse pose") is probably one of the most important poses in any yoga class. It's the time when you completely stop moving and let your body process everything you just did to it. Tonight was one of those savasanas where you kind of leave the room. where you can hear from a distance that the teacher is telling the class that it's time to move, but you don't actually register anything until you hear multiple voices end the class by saying, "Namaste."

On that note, I think I've more than passed that 800 word count (yep, definitely feeling like college, it drove my teachers nuts: "Good paper, but TOO LONG!"). So, I'm going to say, "Good night," for now and hit the bed for an extended savasana...one that will hopefully last for at least 6 hours :-)

21-5-800

2010-06-08T23:50:00.000-04:00

"21 days, 5 days of yoga a week, 800 words of writing per day." I saw the badge for this challenge/project on a blog posting at The Reluctant Ashtangi site. The basic gist of this project is pretty self-explanatory: for a period of 21 days, members will practice yoga 5 days a week and then write 800 words about something--anything. I read that around 10:30 on the night it began (Tuesday, June 8) and immediately decided it was something I wanted and needed to do--though it would take me over an hour to figure out what to call my blog!

At the project's website, Bindu Wiles said that "the point is to get writing again daily..." and this struck a chord for me. Writing had always been one of my strongest skills--from the very first penmanship award I won in the second grade through the 5-20 page term papers I wrote throughout college. One of my English teachers in college used to tell us that if we couldn't figure out exactly what we wanted to write about, then to simply start writing. It didn't even have to be complete sentences or be grammatically correct. But through the simple act of putting pen to paper, a common theme would eventually emerge. That advice stuck and writing eventually became a way for me to literally see my thoughts in a very tangible way and be able to look back and see how things in my life evolved, or stayed constant.

However, my college writing skills aren't really necessary in my current job. And after many months of being unable to find a way out of the seemingly endless state of post-college limbo, I became very frustrated, un-motivated and un-inspired. Gradually, I wrote less and less. So this project is, in part, an effort to wake up my mind and keep my writing skills alive. Another thing on the project's site that caught my eye was the idea of this becoming a "container" for all the thoughts roaming around in my head. I found that incredibly ironic because my new roommate and I were discussing this very idea Monday night. She had used a huge 10-foot long piece of butcher-type paper to literally draw out and connect her ideas; and I used to write. So, again, the writing portion is an effort to re-build that "container." I had also been tossing around the idea of starting a blog for a while but had been reluctant to jump in. Part of me thought: "what's the difference between journal writing and blogging? In both places, you're just writing about what's going on in your head." True, but when you know that there is a possibility that someone might read it, your writing tends to change. For me, it becomes a little more cohesive and I tend to see myself with a little more humor and focus a little less on how frustrating my life seems. So, this project just might help repair my positive outlook :-)

The last thought that finally gave me that last nudge is something I often hear my yoga teachers say: "send it out there to the universe." I've seen the input and support that can come from the blogging community--occasionally I've even contributed input to someone else's blog, someone I don't even personally know! It's just someone who shares a common interest and passion. I tend to have a lot questions, musings and thoughts buzzing around my head but how am I supposed to get an answer or response if it just stays in my head--or in my notebook? "Put it out there for the universe." I have no idea what will come from making the spontaneous decision to join this project (literally at the last minute), or if I will continue blogging after 21 days is over, but it'll be an interesting experience either way :-)

Oh, I also practice yoga--a lot :-) Ashtanga, Forrest, Vinyasa, Yin, Kripalu, Restorative, AcroYoga...I even jumped into my very first Kundalini class last week. I find just about every style I've tried to be completely fascinating with a unique point of view to offer to the growing world of yoga. In the beginning, my practice had a very strong Forrest yoga influence--including an unforgettable week of intensives with Ana Forrest in October of 2009. But I felt like I was missing a foundation in my practice. I had never really settled on just one style or one teacher. So I added more Ashtanga classes and developed a very dedicated, 6-day a week Mysore practice for about 3-4 months...until persistent knee pains grew worse and encouraged another shift in my practice around yet again. As of now, I still go to Mysore a 2-3 days a week and am working on the Kurmasana sequence while having fun mixing the blood around in my head while doing drop-backs :-) But I also include some basic Vinyasa classes with some of my favorite teachers, the occasional Forrest class and an awesome class that's full of inversions and arm balances :-) Though yoga is a fairly new addition to my life (it'll be a full year in a couple of weeks) it has quickly become something I treasure, even if it has a tendency to occasionally be very confusing. Yoga is effecting me in ways that is often hard to understand myself let alone to be able to explain to or discuss with other people. So, I'm really looking forward to being able to discuss this part of my life with people who probably understand it better than I do.

So, that's what I've got for now. Until the next time, happy writing and blissful and rejuvenating yoga practice to everyone!