I have never shared quite the detail that I am going to share today, so be prepared! I recently split from the man with whom I spent the last ten years. Each day that passes since our separation, another realization hits me as to the life I had become accustomed to in our relationship. I will say that we parted on good terms, and whatever I share is not meant to attack his character. We simply chose to approach life in different ways, and ultimately I had to leave in order to fully express myself.
One realization came today, as I reached for my yoga teacher's hand in a gesture of gratitude. I had just shared with her my decision to start a new life as a single woman. She accepted this information with grace and reassurance, and congratulated me on my decision. As I left class, it occurred to me that reaching out for her hand would have been very uncharacteristic just 3 months ago, before my separation. Prior to this, I was with a man who did not believe in hand holding. He declared this preference early on in our life together. Obviously hand holding is a simple act of connection, and initially, I did not see the implications of never including it in our interaction. But as the years wore on, and my partner's dedication to his decision never to hold my hand solidified, the lack of hand holding became a central issue. The reason being, my natural instinct many times was to reach out and feel for him at my side. His natural reaction was to draw away from my touch.
As one would expect, I eventually stopped reaching out for him at all. I resisted my natural impulse to do so in order to avoid feeling rejected. The real tragedy in this is that holding back with him spilled over into other relationships. I have always been a big hugger, but other touch did not come quite so easily. Risking awkwardness or rejection when reaching out to my friends hindered an expression of my love for them. I had lost a degree of my self confidence, that inner wisdom that knows when it is essential to reach for others.
As a result, I had to find other ways to relay this, and as a result I focused on verbal communication and outright dedication to them in other ways, and luckily they responded. Even though I had found a viable substitute, so many circumstances presented important opportunities for reaching out - a friend in need of comfort, a mother in need of reassurance, a child in need of support. Holding someone's hand is such an act of intimacy, and even though I longed for it, I had stopped placing myself in that position of vulnerability.
Leaving my ten year relationship has led to an interesting phenomenon - an involuntary blossoming of many aspects of my personality not previously expressed. Removing the man who refused my affectionate advances from the center of my life has allowed a vacuum to open up, and what has rushed in to fill it are amazing friends that I am unabashedly reaching for. Parts of myself that were damned up for so long continue to come rushing forth, into the loving arms of friends and family. It is such a pleasure to feel myself reaching for people again, no longer keeping anyone at arm's distance away.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Lessons from a Fallen Hero
I just got home from a funeral. I wanted to capture the array of emotions that went through my mind during the service.
I did not personally know the man who was being laid to rest. I work with his wife in the ER, and had seen him with their two boys visiting her at work a time or two. I knew a little about their life together - he was a police officer, both of them met while in the military. His wife is an amazing women - a talented nurse, a grounded friend, a caring mother. After the service today, I learned that her husband was no less inspiring in his own right, and is truly a Fallen Hero.
His life, as painted by the many speakers at his service today, had multiple inspiring themes. He was an undercover detective killed in the line of duty, fighting narcotic trafficking in the Phoenix area. He was also a former Marine who held his family, his health and his duty to the community in the highest of regards. Let me share what I took away from the service, as an outsider to his life.
- Live joyfully. In spite of his serious and tough roles as a Marine and later a Police Officer, the man laid to rest lived joyfully. He truly loved his wife, his boys and his comrades. Over and over, speakers referred to his humor, his joy and his true affection for all things in his life.
- Hold nothing back. Give everything of yourself to those that you love. The man laid to rest today was obviously affectionate towards all who encountered him - his partner remarked that he would even laugh with those they had just arrested. No one today seemed unsure of the love the Fallen Hero had felt for them. He certainly knew that one can be a man and still show the depths of the love that he feels for others.
- Don't be reckless. This man took his health seriously, working out everyday. He took his mind seriously, as he was an avid reader and a hungry learner. He took his family seriously - the slide show playing before the service showed photo after photo of him volunteering at his sons schools, flying kites with his sons, traveling with his sons, and in general participating in their lives. He also took his relationship with his wife seriously - showing pride in her professional accomplishments, talking about her all the time to his friends and colleagues. His love for the fabric of his life was very apparent. And in spite of chosing the riskiest of all professions, or maybe because of this fact, he was not reckless with the time he had outside of work. He participated fully in his life, and for this reason will be missed that much more.
During the service, I wanted to gather my friends close and tell them how much I love them. Since most of you reading right now are my friends, I want to reinforce the positive impact that you each have on my life. I hope that this is not the first time you are hearing this from me! I also want to remind you to protect yourselves, to take care of your bodies and mind. Don't be reckless with this limited amount of time that we may have together. Live joyfully - surround yourself with positive people who make you feel good, and allow you to love them and share yourself with them. And then pop in on those who don't make it so easy to share or love them, and continue to try. Hold nothing back - always share yourself with others - you are beautiful and others are lucky to have this glimpse! Know that because you have shared yourself with me, I am a stronger, deeper and better women.
I did not personally know the man who was being laid to rest. I work with his wife in the ER, and had seen him with their two boys visiting her at work a time or two. I knew a little about their life together - he was a police officer, both of them met while in the military. His wife is an amazing women - a talented nurse, a grounded friend, a caring mother. After the service today, I learned that her husband was no less inspiring in his own right, and is truly a Fallen Hero.
His life, as painted by the many speakers at his service today, had multiple inspiring themes. He was an undercover detective killed in the line of duty, fighting narcotic trafficking in the Phoenix area. He was also a former Marine who held his family, his health and his duty to the community in the highest of regards. Let me share what I took away from the service, as an outsider to his life.
- Live joyfully. In spite of his serious and tough roles as a Marine and later a Police Officer, the man laid to rest lived joyfully. He truly loved his wife, his boys and his comrades. Over and over, speakers referred to his humor, his joy and his true affection for all things in his life.
- Hold nothing back. Give everything of yourself to those that you love. The man laid to rest today was obviously affectionate towards all who encountered him - his partner remarked that he would even laugh with those they had just arrested. No one today seemed unsure of the love the Fallen Hero had felt for them. He certainly knew that one can be a man and still show the depths of the love that he feels for others.
- Don't be reckless. This man took his health seriously, working out everyday. He took his mind seriously, as he was an avid reader and a hungry learner. He took his family seriously - the slide show playing before the service showed photo after photo of him volunteering at his sons schools, flying kites with his sons, traveling with his sons, and in general participating in their lives. He also took his relationship with his wife seriously - showing pride in her professional accomplishments, talking about her all the time to his friends and colleagues. His love for the fabric of his life was very apparent. And in spite of chosing the riskiest of all professions, or maybe because of this fact, he was not reckless with the time he had outside of work. He participated fully in his life, and for this reason will be missed that much more.
During the service, I wanted to gather my friends close and tell them how much I love them. Since most of you reading right now are my friends, I want to reinforce the positive impact that you each have on my life. I hope that this is not the first time you are hearing this from me! I also want to remind you to protect yourselves, to take care of your bodies and mind. Don't be reckless with this limited amount of time that we may have together. Live joyfully - surround yourself with positive people who make you feel good, and allow you to love them and share yourself with them. And then pop in on those who don't make it so easy to share or love them, and continue to try. Hold nothing back - always share yourself with others - you are beautiful and others are lucky to have this glimpse! Know that because you have shared yourself with me, I am a stronger, deeper and better women.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Avoiding Attachment
During my ceramics class today, I attempted to take a two pound lump of clay and shape it into a bowl. As I centered the clay, then made an opening and finally began raising the edges, I imagined in my mind how awesome this bowl would be. About that time, one of the edges collapsed and the rim separated from the base. Sighing with disappointment, I turned off the potter's wheel just as its intertia turned my bowl back into a shapeless lump of clay. I could not help feeling frustrated and disappointed. I was already anticipating a beautiful bowl and now I was going to have to start over.
My attachment to the end result of creating my bowl took me away from the present moment of creating the bowl, and may have led to my ruining the bowl before it was done. In yoga, this concept of attachment is considered an obstacle to self awareness. This is illustrated perfectly with my bowl example - it encourages results oriented energy. The term raga - meaning attachment - describes this concept. It is coupled with dvesha, which is an avulsion to things that are unpleasant. This is an easier concept to grasp. Even children understand that sometimes things that we don't like - such as medicine or brussel sprouts - are often good for us to experience. The idea of ragas is a little more obtuse. How is it damaging for us to be attached to, and therefore try to recreate, pleasant experiences?
Ceramics is an excellent place to learn that attachment is useless. There are so many potential things along the path from lump of clay to glazed and fired that can go wrong with a pot. At my stage of learning, I have no idea which of my actions will be the death of my pot. Therefore, when a pot turns to mush on the potters wheel, I should avoid sighing away my disappointment as the idea of my perfect bowl temporarily dies. Instead, I should realize that the experience was a lesson in what not to do, and move on to my next project.
Well beyond the scope of ceramics, I struggle with detaching myself from the outcome of an activity. Doing things that I love for the pure joy of enjoying them in the moment is my "ragas" lesson. May the universe continue to turn my bowls to mush whenever I stray from the happiness of a moment!
My attachment to the end result of creating my bowl took me away from the present moment of creating the bowl, and may have led to my ruining the bowl before it was done. In yoga, this concept of attachment is considered an obstacle to self awareness. This is illustrated perfectly with my bowl example - it encourages results oriented energy. The term raga - meaning attachment - describes this concept. It is coupled with dvesha, which is an avulsion to things that are unpleasant. This is an easier concept to grasp. Even children understand that sometimes things that we don't like - such as medicine or brussel sprouts - are often good for us to experience. The idea of ragas is a little more obtuse. How is it damaging for us to be attached to, and therefore try to recreate, pleasant experiences?
Ceramics is an excellent place to learn that attachment is useless. There are so many potential things along the path from lump of clay to glazed and fired that can go wrong with a pot. At my stage of learning, I have no idea which of my actions will be the death of my pot. Therefore, when a pot turns to mush on the potters wheel, I should avoid sighing away my disappointment as the idea of my perfect bowl temporarily dies. Instead, I should realize that the experience was a lesson in what not to do, and move on to my next project.
Well beyond the scope of ceramics, I struggle with detaching myself from the outcome of an activity. Doing things that I love for the pure joy of enjoying them in the moment is my "ragas" lesson. May the universe continue to turn my bowls to mush whenever I stray from the happiness of a moment!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Dirt, Dirt Everywhere
The theme for my 34th year on earth declared itself today in a most surprising way - in my reaction to my newly demolized front patio. Before I explain this scenario, a bit of background.
The transition from 33 to 34 years old has not been magical for me. The theme that dominated 2009, "creating space", seemed to hold more meaning and direction for my activities last year. As 2010 dawned and my 34th birthday approached, my commitment free schedule heralded the completion of my "creating space" project, and yet no new theme emerged. Instead, all the space that I had created seemed to create a vacuum where more than a few things were collapsing. I began my 34th year with too much time on my hands and not enough to do with this coveted time. Uncertainties further flared as I realized that a new theme was lacking.
Back to my demolized front patio. Delfino, my landscaper, informed me two days ago of a leak beneath the concrete on my front patio. My front patio is comprised of two sidewalks (one from the street directly south of the house and the other from the driveway to the east), two large concrete squares poured to fill in the space between these sidewalks and my house, and a walled-off bed of dirt where the stump of a previously graceful Queen Anne palm once grew. Delfino had localized the leak and needed one of the concrete squares demolized in order to make the repair. As I arranged for a concrete guy to do this small but surprisingly pricy job, the potential unearthed itself. Why not demolize both concrete squares and the walled off bed of dirt, unearthing a 12 foot area for planting versus repouring?! Luckily, my husband agreed with this project and we spent yesterday morning listening to Joe, our new concrete friend, destroy and haul off the concrete whose time on our front patio had expired.
I stepped out of the house today to visit a neighbor and met face to face with our current patio - our sidewalk, as of yet unaffected, is flanked by muddy heaps and holes with irrigation piping scattered about. This triggered a thought, "Even in this state, it's already more beautiful than when the concrete was intact."
And that's it - my 2010 theme. With dirt everywhere, there's more potential to grow.
This affinity for all things dirt has been "blossoming" since March. It was then, about ten weeks ago, that I planted my first garden. Inspired by the simple act of a friend showing me her and her husband's beautiful garden, I built a 4 foot by 4 foot raised bed, turned soil in three existing but empty flower beds and readied six pots that had most recently seen dead houseplants for replanting. Into these patches of dirt, I planted six tomato plants, four pepper and four squash plants, three cucumber vines, two cantaloupe vines, one eggplant and an herb garden full of basil, oregano, mint and parsley. The pale dusty dirt has transformed more than just the vegetables I planted. Every morning I rise early to water and weed, every afternoon I scout for fruit ripe for picking, and all hours in between I gaze with pride at what has sprouted from my green thumb.
A few weeks after initiating my garden, I received a catalog in the mail from Mesa Arts Center, a unique and impressive performing and visual arts complex in downtown Mesa. It was here that I found a community "Clay of the Month" class that fit perfectly into my schedule. On the first day of class, our instructor described how we would take what was once essentially DIRT and turn it into pots, platters and mugs. At this, I realized that I had another dirt project on my hands. After shaping 10 pounds of clay into nine items of questionable function, I again found pride in what my hands could do.
So what is the common thread between my frequent brush ups with dirt? At the risk of sounding "non-green", I don't think it has anything to do with "The Environment," so no worries there :-)
I do, however, believe that something is telling me to get grounded; to get my hands into the dirt and my thoughts out of the sky. More than once I have felt encouraged, even desperate, to get out of my head and using my hands has seemed the most therapeutic way. And thankfully, there has emerged an intelligence inside my body that has guided my activities in a meaningful way over the last several months.
In hindsight, the timing of my "unearthing" is no surprise. The last few months have presented me with some specific personal challenges that have strained my mental strength and coping skills. As a result, my head has been a veritable tornado of fear, fret and folly. With the strength housed in my head failing, my body wisdom took over. It guided me to Home Depot for two inch by six inch redwood planks, gardening soil and starter plants. It led me to a ceramic studio in order to shape moist pieces of earth into platters, bowls and let's face it - one hell of an ashtray. And most recently, it encouraged me to destroy three pieces of concrete to make more space for dirt. Overall, I feel the center of my power shifting out of my head and into the earth. I am getting grounded.
I find these events reflected in the words that I often say to my yoga students, "Ground down in order to grow taller." I don't know what direction my next growth spurt will take. I do have a sense, however, that with my body guiding me to create space and yet stay grounded, I will grow tall from a very stable place.
The transition from 33 to 34 years old has not been magical for me. The theme that dominated 2009, "creating space", seemed to hold more meaning and direction for my activities last year. As 2010 dawned and my 34th birthday approached, my commitment free schedule heralded the completion of my "creating space" project, and yet no new theme emerged. Instead, all the space that I had created seemed to create a vacuum where more than a few things were collapsing. I began my 34th year with too much time on my hands and not enough to do with this coveted time. Uncertainties further flared as I realized that a new theme was lacking.
Back to my demolized front patio. Delfino, my landscaper, informed me two days ago of a leak beneath the concrete on my front patio. My front patio is comprised of two sidewalks (one from the street directly south of the house and the other from the driveway to the east), two large concrete squares poured to fill in the space between these sidewalks and my house, and a walled-off bed of dirt where the stump of a previously graceful Queen Anne palm once grew. Delfino had localized the leak and needed one of the concrete squares demolized in order to make the repair. As I arranged for a concrete guy to do this small but surprisingly pricy job, the potential unearthed itself. Why not demolize both concrete squares and the walled off bed of dirt, unearthing a 12 foot area for planting versus repouring?! Luckily, my husband agreed with this project and we spent yesterday morning listening to Joe, our new concrete friend, destroy and haul off the concrete whose time on our front patio had expired.
I stepped out of the house today to visit a neighbor and met face to face with our current patio - our sidewalk, as of yet unaffected, is flanked by muddy heaps and holes with irrigation piping scattered about. This triggered a thought, "Even in this state, it's already more beautiful than when the concrete was intact."
And that's it - my 2010 theme. With dirt everywhere, there's more potential to grow.
This affinity for all things dirt has been "blossoming" since March. It was then, about ten weeks ago, that I planted my first garden. Inspired by the simple act of a friend showing me her and her husband's beautiful garden, I built a 4 foot by 4 foot raised bed, turned soil in three existing but empty flower beds and readied six pots that had most recently seen dead houseplants for replanting. Into these patches of dirt, I planted six tomato plants, four pepper and four squash plants, three cucumber vines, two cantaloupe vines, one eggplant and an herb garden full of basil, oregano, mint and parsley. The pale dusty dirt has transformed more than just the vegetables I planted. Every morning I rise early to water and weed, every afternoon I scout for fruit ripe for picking, and all hours in between I gaze with pride at what has sprouted from my green thumb.
A few weeks after initiating my garden, I received a catalog in the mail from Mesa Arts Center, a unique and impressive performing and visual arts complex in downtown Mesa. It was here that I found a community "Clay of the Month" class that fit perfectly into my schedule. On the first day of class, our instructor described how we would take what was once essentially DIRT and turn it into pots, platters and mugs. At this, I realized that I had another dirt project on my hands. After shaping 10 pounds of clay into nine items of questionable function, I again found pride in what my hands could do.
So what is the common thread between my frequent brush ups with dirt? At the risk of sounding "non-green", I don't think it has anything to do with "The Environment," so no worries there :-)
I do, however, believe that something is telling me to get grounded; to get my hands into the dirt and my thoughts out of the sky. More than once I have felt encouraged, even desperate, to get out of my head and using my hands has seemed the most therapeutic way. And thankfully, there has emerged an intelligence inside my body that has guided my activities in a meaningful way over the last several months.
In hindsight, the timing of my "unearthing" is no surprise. The last few months have presented me with some specific personal challenges that have strained my mental strength and coping skills. As a result, my head has been a veritable tornado of fear, fret and folly. With the strength housed in my head failing, my body wisdom took over. It guided me to Home Depot for two inch by six inch redwood planks, gardening soil and starter plants. It led me to a ceramic studio in order to shape moist pieces of earth into platters, bowls and let's face it - one hell of an ashtray. And most recently, it encouraged me to destroy three pieces of concrete to make more space for dirt. Overall, I feel the center of my power shifting out of my head and into the earth. I am getting grounded.
I find these events reflected in the words that I often say to my yoga students, "Ground down in order to grow taller." I don't know what direction my next growth spurt will take. I do have a sense, however, that with my body guiding me to create space and yet stay grounded, I will grow tall from a very stable place.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Train the Brain
Since Spring appeared in Phoenix, I have been hosting weekly yoga sessions for my friends in my back yard. During our sessions, my friends play my students and I play their teacher, and we basically play with yoga. I show them tricks that other teachers have taught me, they share with me their body experience while experimenting with these tricks and I become their student. It is an amazing exchange of personal growth and inspiration.
Yesterday, I was sitting with two of my backyard yoga friends, Darla and Labrena (names changed to protect the innocent :-) Darla made a poigniant observation about how she reacts to challenging poses and what these reactions are teaching her about herself. In a difficult asana, she feels physically uncomfortable, which leads quickly to mental discomfort. Her brain then gets involved in a sort of panic mode. What she has realized after pushing beyond this discomfort and mental panic is that by staying with the uncomfortabe sensations, she is training her mind not to panic. She is developing positive mental talk, telling herself that she can tolerate the physical discomfort without letting her mental talk exacerbate the situation.
I think Darla's mental discomfort represents fear of the unknown, fear of how her body will react if she lets herself go in the pose. Through her asana practice, Darla is finding a level of detachment from the physical body in favor of a stable internal wisdom. She has touched on the realization that we are not victims of our experiences, but rather we control our experiences with our reactions. If we panic in the face of shaking legs as we try to hold boat pose, the experience becomes negative and we likely lose our connection to our core and fall out of the pose. If we go with the flow of shaking limbs, honor our body's reaction and keep our focus on the foundation of the pose, we transcend fear and find peace an a more stable pose.
Jivamutki yoga school writes a monthly focus and this month's focus relates to my topic.
"Asana practice helps us further connect to the root of our fears because it allows us to feel the sensation of tension and tightness housed in our bodies. It also affords us the opportunity to observe our fearful reactions to certain postures and the mental and emotional discomfort they elicit. Through asana we are able to explore the edges of what is known and unknown allowing us to uncover resistance in the mind and body."
I was replaying my conversation with Darla and Labrena in my mind today as I hiked a steep but wonderfully short hill in downtown Tempe. My body was responding appropriately to the rapid elevation change: elevated heart rate, increased respiratory rate, fatigued muscles - basically very uncomfortable sensations. I tried to keep my mental talk focused on the positive, in spite of my physical discomfort. It was here that I realized the larger application of Carla's realization. So many situations represent physical and mental discomfort for us, and using our yoga lesson we can try to train our brain to not panic and instead take responsibility for our reactions.
Take illness as an example. When one is sick, the physical symptoms of the illness may overwhelm the mind. A person may become obsessed with her physical symptoms. This obsession may take over her mental talk, such that she only thinks of how uncomfortabe the illness feels in her body. This of course makes the physical symptoms worse. If she can find a detachment from her physical symptoms, and train her brain to avoid reacting to each and every body ache and pain, her experience will be less of suffering and more of growing.
Yoga is unleashing body and mind lessons for my friends. As witness to their yoga journey, I am learning yet another dimension of how yoga can transform and connect body, spirit and mind.
Yesterday, I was sitting with two of my backyard yoga friends, Darla and Labrena (names changed to protect the innocent :-) Darla made a poigniant observation about how she reacts to challenging poses and what these reactions are teaching her about herself. In a difficult asana, she feels physically uncomfortable, which leads quickly to mental discomfort. Her brain then gets involved in a sort of panic mode. What she has realized after pushing beyond this discomfort and mental panic is that by staying with the uncomfortabe sensations, she is training her mind not to panic. She is developing positive mental talk, telling herself that she can tolerate the physical discomfort without letting her mental talk exacerbate the situation.
I think Darla's mental discomfort represents fear of the unknown, fear of how her body will react if she lets herself go in the pose. Through her asana practice, Darla is finding a level of detachment from the physical body in favor of a stable internal wisdom. She has touched on the realization that we are not victims of our experiences, but rather we control our experiences with our reactions. If we panic in the face of shaking legs as we try to hold boat pose, the experience becomes negative and we likely lose our connection to our core and fall out of the pose. If we go with the flow of shaking limbs, honor our body's reaction and keep our focus on the foundation of the pose, we transcend fear and find peace an a more stable pose.
Jivamutki yoga school writes a monthly focus and this month's focus relates to my topic.
"Asana practice helps us further connect to the root of our fears because it allows us to feel the sensation of tension and tightness housed in our bodies. It also affords us the opportunity to observe our fearful reactions to certain postures and the mental and emotional discomfort they elicit. Through asana we are able to explore the edges of what is known and unknown allowing us to uncover resistance in the mind and body."
I was replaying my conversation with Darla and Labrena in my mind today as I hiked a steep but wonderfully short hill in downtown Tempe. My body was responding appropriately to the rapid elevation change: elevated heart rate, increased respiratory rate, fatigued muscles - basically very uncomfortable sensations. I tried to keep my mental talk focused on the positive, in spite of my physical discomfort. It was here that I realized the larger application of Carla's realization. So many situations represent physical and mental discomfort for us, and using our yoga lesson we can try to train our brain to not panic and instead take responsibility for our reactions.
Take illness as an example. When one is sick, the physical symptoms of the illness may overwhelm the mind. A person may become obsessed with her physical symptoms. This obsession may take over her mental talk, such that she only thinks of how uncomfortabe the illness feels in her body. This of course makes the physical symptoms worse. If she can find a detachment from her physical symptoms, and train her brain to avoid reacting to each and every body ache and pain, her experience will be less of suffering and more of growing.
Yoga is unleashing body and mind lessons for my friends. As witness to their yoga journey, I am learning yet another dimension of how yoga can transform and connect body, spirit and mind.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Gym Yogis
As a yoga teacher in training, I read every assigned reading ahead of time and had parts underlined to discuss in class (those that have been in class with me are SO rolling their eyes right now...). One day we were discussing the primary objective for asana, or the physical practice of yoga. My yoga teacher's assistant, Adi, was claiming that the practice of asana was first and foremost to prepare our bodies for meditation. This concept blew my mind - I loved asana, and certainly believed that it was an end in and of itself. I searched pointedly through my assigned readings and found a passage in Light on Yoga that supported my claims. Adi was delighted at my contribution and defused my defiant attitude by thanking me for sharing.
Fast forward three years. I am teaching a class of dedicated gym yogis. In my estimation, 50% of the class comes as a replacement for some other part of their work out - e.g. as a cardio or strength training session. The other 50% come because they want to relax, stretch their bodies and feel good afterwards. As a result of my presumption, historically I have approached my gym yoga classes with the goal of combining a work out with some good stretching. This approach has attracted a solid following thus far.
The problem with my gym approach is that I now believe what Adi asserted three years ago - asana is the means to a meditative end. I still love asana - nothing breaks up my densities and massages my internal organs better than a good lateral bending, back bending, twisting practice. However, with my decision to develop a meditation practice, I now see beyond asana to the potential that lies in meditation. And I want to share that with my students.
The question - how to bring something as "fluffy" and "new agey" as meditation to a big corporate gym. The obvious answer is to disguise it!
Ha, ha - seriously though. I have learned from another gym yoga teacher that I follow how to incorporate "contemplation" and "mindful breathing" into a class. Last week I started a practice that I reinforced in class today - that of sitting quietly with eyes closed and counting how many breaths you can take before an external thought interrupts you. Once this external thought barges in, you begin your count over at 1. I have tried this myself - initially I could only take 3 breaths before a thought burst through. After an asana practice, however, I can get much higher - 10 or 12 breaths before starting over.
So I presented this practice to my class for a second time today. Before we started, I had everyone sit quietly on their mat and focus on counting their breaths. Then we did a 45 minute asana practice followed by a 5 minute shavasana. After shavasana, I had them sit for another 2 minutes and count their breaths. As I kept time for them, I looked out over my class of gym yogis. What I saw was 20 focused yogis with eyes closed, spines tall and full of light, mindfully breathing. No fidgeting, no squinting through closed lids to see their watches - just an impressive stillness. Behind them, through the studio windows, I saw heavily muscled men straining to pump iron and well groomed women "glistening" on the eliptical. This juxtaposition made my smile.
A toast to honoring what inspires you - I found a way to introduce meditation to my students. This brings integrity to my teaching. A toast also to gym yogis. And as I said in class, "The mindful breather in me salutes the mindful breather in you. Namaste."
Fast forward three years. I am teaching a class of dedicated gym yogis. In my estimation, 50% of the class comes as a replacement for some other part of their work out - e.g. as a cardio or strength training session. The other 50% come because they want to relax, stretch their bodies and feel good afterwards. As a result of my presumption, historically I have approached my gym yoga classes with the goal of combining a work out with some good stretching. This approach has attracted a solid following thus far.
The problem with my gym approach is that I now believe what Adi asserted three years ago - asana is the means to a meditative end. I still love asana - nothing breaks up my densities and massages my internal organs better than a good lateral bending, back bending, twisting practice. However, with my decision to develop a meditation practice, I now see beyond asana to the potential that lies in meditation. And I want to share that with my students.
The question - how to bring something as "fluffy" and "new agey" as meditation to a big corporate gym. The obvious answer is to disguise it!
Ha, ha - seriously though. I have learned from another gym yoga teacher that I follow how to incorporate "contemplation" and "mindful breathing" into a class. Last week I started a practice that I reinforced in class today - that of sitting quietly with eyes closed and counting how many breaths you can take before an external thought interrupts you. Once this external thought barges in, you begin your count over at 1. I have tried this myself - initially I could only take 3 breaths before a thought burst through. After an asana practice, however, I can get much higher - 10 or 12 breaths before starting over.
So I presented this practice to my class for a second time today. Before we started, I had everyone sit quietly on their mat and focus on counting their breaths. Then we did a 45 minute asana practice followed by a 5 minute shavasana. After shavasana, I had them sit for another 2 minutes and count their breaths. As I kept time for them, I looked out over my class of gym yogis. What I saw was 20 focused yogis with eyes closed, spines tall and full of light, mindfully breathing. No fidgeting, no squinting through closed lids to see their watches - just an impressive stillness. Behind them, through the studio windows, I saw heavily muscled men straining to pump iron and well groomed women "glistening" on the eliptical. This juxtaposition made my smile.
A toast to honoring what inspires you - I found a way to introduce meditation to my students. This brings integrity to my teaching. A toast also to gym yogis. And as I said in class, "The mindful breather in me salutes the mindful breather in you. Namaste."
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Saying Goodbye to 2009
I was going to write my next blog about New Year's resolutions, but another more timely topic has presented itself.
In the last few months of 2009, several of my friends said goodbye to their long time companions - dog members of their family. First this Fall, Maggie, a beautiful cocker spaniel, passed away after a long fight with chronic illness. The day before Thanksgiving, 14 year-old Griffey passed on in the company of his dedicated owners. On New Year's Eve, Casey, a lovely yellow lab who lived 15 rich and active years with her human, passed away. All of these animals were important members of my friends' families, and truly extensions of their souls.
These losses have struck cords deep within my friends' spirits. As witness to my friends' grieving, I stand in wonder as to the affect dogs have on humans. As a dog person myself, I am familiar with the absolute dedication and adoration one can have for a dog. And yet I still contemplate what it is about dogs that leaves us so willingly vulnerable and giving of ourselves in ways that we may not even do with other humans. Does their "dogness" give us the green light to be unabashedly loving? Do dogs create a safe space for humans to practice being human? It's likely a combination of all these possibilities. The reason is really not important, what's important is that us "Dog People" find outlets for what we have to give in our furry four legged friends!
As we welcome in the New Year, I honor last year's loss of three much loved animals. Along these lines, I would like to share the holiday card sent by Maggie's owner. The card was authored by the dog, and in it contained a dog's wisdom:
My time on this earth has come to an end, and my last wish for you and my people is that you...
Live Simply, Love Generously; Care Deeply; and...
When a loved-one comes home, run to greet them.
Thrive on getting and giving attention.
Touch others and let others touch you.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Be loyal and never pretend to be something that you're not.
If what you want is buried, dig until you find it.
If someone is having a bad day, comfort them... be quiet, sit close and nuzzle them gently.
ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY... NOT JUST DURING THE HOLIDAYS, BUT FROM THIS DAY FORWARD.
In the last few months of 2009, several of my friends said goodbye to their long time companions - dog members of their family. First this Fall, Maggie, a beautiful cocker spaniel, passed away after a long fight with chronic illness. The day before Thanksgiving, 14 year-old Griffey passed on in the company of his dedicated owners. On New Year's Eve, Casey, a lovely yellow lab who lived 15 rich and active years with her human, passed away. All of these animals were important members of my friends' families, and truly extensions of their souls.
These losses have struck cords deep within my friends' spirits. As witness to my friends' grieving, I stand in wonder as to the affect dogs have on humans. As a dog person myself, I am familiar with the absolute dedication and adoration one can have for a dog. And yet I still contemplate what it is about dogs that leaves us so willingly vulnerable and giving of ourselves in ways that we may not even do with other humans. Does their "dogness" give us the green light to be unabashedly loving? Do dogs create a safe space for humans to practice being human? It's likely a combination of all these possibilities. The reason is really not important, what's important is that us "Dog People" find outlets for what we have to give in our furry four legged friends!
As we welcome in the New Year, I honor last year's loss of three much loved animals. Along these lines, I would like to share the holiday card sent by Maggie's owner. The card was authored by the dog, and in it contained a dog's wisdom:
My time on this earth has come to an end, and my last wish for you and my people is that you...
Live Simply, Love Generously; Care Deeply; and...
When a loved-one comes home, run to greet them.
Thrive on getting and giving attention.
Touch others and let others touch you.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Be loyal and never pretend to be something that you're not.
If what you want is buried, dig until you find it.
If someone is having a bad day, comfort them... be quiet, sit close and nuzzle them gently.
ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY... NOT JUST DURING THE HOLIDAYS, BUT FROM THIS DAY FORWARD.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
