The world is constantly changing. Nothing is the same as it was last year, or even as this morning. This is one of those things that is true, whether or not I want it to be, whether or not I admit it on most days.
I like to be in control. I plan what minute I’m going to wake up, how many minutes it takes me to shower and pack my bag, how many minutes to walk to get coffee on the way to the train station, and, as soon as I’m at the station, I start planning the tasks I’ll cross off my list at work that day. I rarely leave things to chance. Sometimes it’s easier for me to pretend like I’m in control and that I can dictate what will happen in my life, and when. But, when things go off-plan, which happens every day, it is hard to deal with the disruption if I am trying to control everything.
In yoga, I often prefer my own practice or teaching to another’s class, because I’m in control of what we’re doing and at what pace. I’ve been learning, though, through my yoga, to accept what is. When I think I have the energy or the strength to do something, and I can’t (for whatever reason), I’ve learned to let go of my control, my preconceived expectations, and roll with it. I try to attend other classes at least once a week, to force myself to practice the discomfort of being in a class led by someone else: out of control.
Dealing with this in my yoga practice has significantly affected the way I deal with hang-ups in my life. I’m much more able to accept unexpected events than I was before I began a daily practice. Delving further into yogic teachings and readings, I find myself comforted by the idea of constant change. Even though things are changing, there is some continuity—things are CONSTANTLY changing.
Our breath is constantly flowing. Our blood is constantly moving. Our life force is constantly pulsating. Without these constant changes, we wouldn’t be alive.
If we need change so much, and if it is constantly surrounding us, then why is it so hard when we experience a schedule change, a body change, a haircut? Meditating on the constant change we’re surrounded by has begun to help me accept these sometimes seemingly radical changes in my day-to-day life. Gradually, I’m noticing the acceptance become easier. I felt really sad on Sunday, though I didn’t really know why. Even though I felt really low, I found myself experiencing it and accepting it for what it was, knowing it would pass. Even though I didn’t feel good, I knew that my experiences and feelings would change. I’ll feel better, and then I might not; it will continue to change.
After writing notes on this blog on the train, but before typing it out, I read an article in Yoga Journal online about balancing control and lack-of-control in our yoga practice. As has so often happened to me this past year, I felt a moment of awe. The article was dealing with the same thing I was writing about, was offering ideas similar to mine, and I felt a strong sense of connection to the rest of the world. A gorgeous example of some out-of-control beauty falling into my controlling lap. I’ll smile and go with it. For now, until it changes again.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Happiness Levels
i've been reading the dalai lama's "the art of happiness" and working on creating a higher baseline level of happiness. while i do consider myself to be pretty happy, i get frustrated and upset pretty easily, so i think that it's worth my time to work on upping my baseline levels.
i'm obsessed with the book, its ideas, and am constantly spouting it now, even though i'm only a few chapters in. i find so much resonance in it. the dalai lama talks about letting go of feelings of frustration, guilt, shame, jealousy, etc., because they only further negativity in yourself and then are fed back to the world. by focusing on creating your own happiness (which he claims is totally possible), you can respond to others with compassion.
i've been exploring some of these issues through my yoga, as that was the first way that i found to personally create happiness. yoga is the only way i've ever found to calm my crazy mind or to be completely happy with my body. through the daily practice of yoga/breathing, i have found this intense connection to myself/my body, and i'm more able to connect to things around me. and i am more able to focus on things and people in my life, like billy, and be fully present when i'm with him.
my yoga practice has been blossoming, but i still struggle with how to incorporate yoga throughout the rest of my life. for example, when i take the train each day, i feel pangs of anger as people shove past me, or elbow me in their haste. i think things like "what's wrong with you?! look where you're going!" but as i've been reading "the art of happiness" i've been able to shift my responses. as i got off the train this morning, and was shoved away from the door, i thought "we're all trying to get where we're going. we're all in a hurry." i noticed the change in my response, from anger to compassion. i felt compassion for everyone's hurry, and i felt connected to all of the other people on the train.
i get stressed every day, and i can't change the world. but i can change my outlook ... and i think that can actually be done pretty quickly. the dalai lama is right: we all want to be happy: treating others with compassion allows that happiness.
i'm obsessed with the book, its ideas, and am constantly spouting it now, even though i'm only a few chapters in. i find so much resonance in it. the dalai lama talks about letting go of feelings of frustration, guilt, shame, jealousy, etc., because they only further negativity in yourself and then are fed back to the world. by focusing on creating your own happiness (which he claims is totally possible), you can respond to others with compassion.
i've been exploring some of these issues through my yoga, as that was the first way that i found to personally create happiness. yoga is the only way i've ever found to calm my crazy mind or to be completely happy with my body. through the daily practice of yoga/breathing, i have found this intense connection to myself/my body, and i'm more able to connect to things around me. and i am more able to focus on things and people in my life, like billy, and be fully present when i'm with him.
my yoga practice has been blossoming, but i still struggle with how to incorporate yoga throughout the rest of my life. for example, when i take the train each day, i feel pangs of anger as people shove past me, or elbow me in their haste. i think things like "what's wrong with you?! look where you're going!" but as i've been reading "the art of happiness" i've been able to shift my responses. as i got off the train this morning, and was shoved away from the door, i thought "we're all trying to get where we're going. we're all in a hurry." i noticed the change in my response, from anger to compassion. i felt compassion for everyone's hurry, and i felt connected to all of the other people on the train.
i get stressed every day, and i can't change the world. but i can change my outlook ... and i think that can actually be done pretty quickly. the dalai lama is right: we all want to be happy: treating others with compassion allows that happiness.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Ready or Not
As a teacher, I want my classes to experience what I experience from my personal yoga practice. I think this is a universal yoga teacher feeling, and seems simple enough, but is probably the loftiest goal one could imagine. My friend and co-teacher Sarah asked me for advice on getting college students to relax, like, really relax, in a yoga class. When I read her question, I smiled to myself, remembering experiencing this frustration while teaching. And then I smiled again, remembering myself as a student just a few years ago.
How do you make someone relax? The easy answer is, you can't. Until someone is ready, they're not ready. Just a few years ago, I would've walked out of a class that wasn't dynamic or sweat-based. I would've laughed at the thought that I wasn't getting the full benefits of yoga. And I probably ignored several teachers' instructions to relax.
In fact, I went to a class this morning that was sooooo slow, I found myself really struggling to stay present. In a 75 minute class, we did about ten poses. And most of the time was spent getting into each pose, with only a few breaths once we were completely in the asana. I ended up really enjoying the class, though it wasn't what I'm used to, nor was it what I expected. Mostly, I was struck afterward with my progression of my practice. I did it! I stayed through the whole class! I stayed present and committed to the experience! I'm finally ready to explore myself and my practice.
But if a student, or class, isn't ready, that doesn't mean you can't try to get them ready. My main point is that teachers can't take all the responsibility for their students' practice. We can only lead and offer what we have.
I think one good suggestion for teachers is to be patient and to keep repeating things class after class. I remember saying to an instructor after a class "I loved that cue you used; it really helped me move further into that pose," to which she responded, "I always say that cue; you just weren't ready to hear it before." I walked away thinking, "woah." But it's completely true: students will hear things as they're ready to, and we can't force them to hear things before that time.
Okay. So, other than breathing and progressive relaxation, how can we help people center themselves? (Sarah's question.) I think that providing visualizations works wonders. It can be really hard to focus and center yourself by concentrating on breathing when you're new to yoga. I have found that students really respond to mind-pictures, though. One of my recent favorites is to guide students to picture an old ghost town (a la the wild west). I then ask them to picture dust blowing through the town, to imagine their mind as that town, the dust as a visual representation of their breath, and that as any tumbleweeds, or troublesome thoughts, blow into the picture, to let the wind-breath ease them back out of the picture.
Guiding through pictures gives the mind an easy focus point, something that can fall away as students progress in their yoga practices. But give them (us) time. We'll hear when we can.
How do you make someone relax? The easy answer is, you can't. Until someone is ready, they're not ready. Just a few years ago, I would've walked out of a class that wasn't dynamic or sweat-based. I would've laughed at the thought that I wasn't getting the full benefits of yoga. And I probably ignored several teachers' instructions to relax.
In fact, I went to a class this morning that was sooooo slow, I found myself really struggling to stay present. In a 75 minute class, we did about ten poses. And most of the time was spent getting into each pose, with only a few breaths once we were completely in the asana. I ended up really enjoying the class, though it wasn't what I'm used to, nor was it what I expected. Mostly, I was struck afterward with my progression of my practice. I did it! I stayed through the whole class! I stayed present and committed to the experience! I'm finally ready to explore myself and my practice.
But if a student, or class, isn't ready, that doesn't mean you can't try to get them ready. My main point is that teachers can't take all the responsibility for their students' practice. We can only lead and offer what we have.
I think one good suggestion for teachers is to be patient and to keep repeating things class after class. I remember saying to an instructor after a class "I loved that cue you used; it really helped me move further into that pose," to which she responded, "I always say that cue; you just weren't ready to hear it before." I walked away thinking, "woah." But it's completely true: students will hear things as they're ready to, and we can't force them to hear things before that time.
Okay. So, other than breathing and progressive relaxation, how can we help people center themselves? (Sarah's question.) I think that providing visualizations works wonders. It can be really hard to focus and center yourself by concentrating on breathing when you're new to yoga. I have found that students really respond to mind-pictures, though. One of my recent favorites is to guide students to picture an old ghost town (a la the wild west). I then ask them to picture dust blowing through the town, to imagine their mind as that town, the dust as a visual representation of their breath, and that as any tumbleweeds, or troublesome thoughts, blow into the picture, to let the wind-breath ease them back out of the picture.
Guiding through pictures gives the mind an easy focus point, something that can fall away as students progress in their yoga practices. But give them (us) time. We'll hear when we can.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The Meaning of Life
Yes. I'm blogging on the meaning of life. Easy cheesy.
Martine and I have added some readings to expand our yogic knowledge and deepen our discussions on yogic philosophy. The first book we read was "In the Company of the Wise" by Swami Sivananda Radha. Throughout the book, she talks about the lessons she has learned from her teachers. She also talks about the lessons she has learned about incorporating yoga into a western life. The main lessons that I took away from the book were related to how I could incorporate yoga more fully into my life.
Each time I read the parts of the book, whether it was on the train, bus, or in my bed, I felt that I was connecting back to myself and my purpose in life. My favorite part of the entire book is when she said "By the time Dadaji had finished talking I had learned another lesson: no matter where we are, it is our duty to remind people of the purpose of life" (p.92). What I found most interesting about that sentence is that she either assumes that the reader knows the purpose of life, or she has intentionally left it out to allow more room for the reader's exploration. Either way, that sentence had the most impact on me than any other in the book. I thought to myself, do I have an answer for that question? Do I really know what I'm doing here?
And, funnily enough, I found an answer hovering just below my consciousness. I thought, yes, I do have an answer. I decided that my answer was, "to make life better for others." To me, that answer made immediate sense, and felt right. As I thought about it over the next couple of days, I felt happy with that answer. And, even more strange was that I had someone ask me what the meaning of life was within 24 hours of reading that. I felt these little pieces of my life coming together, I felt that the world was sending me messages, and I felt that my yoga has really become more entrenched in my life.
Martine and I have added some readings to expand our yogic knowledge and deepen our discussions on yogic philosophy. The first book we read was "In the Company of the Wise" by Swami Sivananda Radha. Throughout the book, she talks about the lessons she has learned from her teachers. She also talks about the lessons she has learned about incorporating yoga into a western life. The main lessons that I took away from the book were related to how I could incorporate yoga more fully into my life.
Each time I read the parts of the book, whether it was on the train, bus, or in my bed, I felt that I was connecting back to myself and my purpose in life. My favorite part of the entire book is when she said "By the time Dadaji had finished talking I had learned another lesson: no matter where we are, it is our duty to remind people of the purpose of life" (p.92). What I found most interesting about that sentence is that she either assumes that the reader knows the purpose of life, or she has intentionally left it out to allow more room for the reader's exploration. Either way, that sentence had the most impact on me than any other in the book. I thought to myself, do I have an answer for that question? Do I really know what I'm doing here?
And, funnily enough, I found an answer hovering just below my consciousness. I thought, yes, I do have an answer. I decided that my answer was, "to make life better for others." To me, that answer made immediate sense, and felt right. As I thought about it over the next couple of days, I felt happy with that answer. And, even more strange was that I had someone ask me what the meaning of life was within 24 hours of reading that. I felt these little pieces of my life coming together, I felt that the world was sending me messages, and I felt that my yoga has really become more entrenched in my life.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Full Expressions of Offering
Saturday afternoon I went to a 2 hour workshop with Kelly. I could not have been more excited about the topic (which was a surprise when I got there) or the approach she took. She taught a class on backbends, especially focusing on inversions into backbends and dropping back from camel and standing into backbends. These are some of my favorite things, and some of the things I wanted to work on deepening in my practice. The approach she took was one of being our fullest selves--puffing out our hearts and fully expressing ourselves in an offering. This approach was also exactly what I was aiming to do in my practice and life (see last blog post!). When I realized what she was saying, about what the class was and the approach we were taking, I felt the alignment of the universe; I felt like that was exactly where I was supposed to be at that time. It's amazing to have those glimpses of samadhi; I felt the perfectness of being as I set my intention for the practice.
The class was beautiful, and I enjoyed meeting a new friend and working with her as a partner a few times throughout the class. I tried some new things that I was afraid to try, and I tried some new things that were challenging and fun. The class exhausted me, but I still felt full of energy when I left. Through Kelly's direction, I was able to stay fully present and fully offer myself to my practice and to a greater offering of love and being.
The practice on Saturday was just what I needed to kick-start my want to incorporate more offering into my practice. The excitement I felt around the opportunities created in the class were radiated through my practice, and I was able to continue that sense of offering my fullest self when I left the mat.
Throughout my weekend, I've been practicing being full; offering what I have in each situation and to each person. I'm sure I haven't done it constantly, but I have continued to go back to that intention. I did a short practice Sunday afternoon and again this morning, but both practices felt full as I kept pushing myself to offer fully.
Thank you, Kelly. And I offer my thanks back out as an offering to anyone reading this. Be full and offer back.
The class was beautiful, and I enjoyed meeting a new friend and working with her as a partner a few times throughout the class. I tried some new things that I was afraid to try, and I tried some new things that were challenging and fun. The class exhausted me, but I still felt full of energy when I left. Through Kelly's direction, I was able to stay fully present and fully offer myself to my practice and to a greater offering of love and being.
The practice on Saturday was just what I needed to kick-start my want to incorporate more offering into my practice. The excitement I felt around the opportunities created in the class were radiated through my practice, and I was able to continue that sense of offering my fullest self when I left the mat.
Throughout my weekend, I've been practicing being full; offering what I have in each situation and to each person. I'm sure I haven't done it constantly, but I have continued to go back to that intention. I did a short practice Sunday afternoon and again this morning, but both practices felt full as I kept pushing myself to offer fully.
Thank you, Kelly. And I offer my thanks back out as an offering to anyone reading this. Be full and offer back.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Heartfulness
The most intense teaching experience I've had recently was when I taught the class while on vacation in State College: I felt like I was back home. I was teaching in the room where I had begun a regular practice, where I first began my yoga teacher training, and where I had often escaped to after a hectic day. I was there with one of my best friends and my sister, and I felt intense emotional connections surrounding me. The class felt easy to teach. I was in a small room where I could easily jump on and off the mat, offering personalized attention to each student several times. In this class I was really able to feel as if I was giving, sharing, and experiencing all that yoga is. Teaching a class that feels good on multiple levels is extremely rewarding.
In contrast, I've also recently covered a few classes that were not my own, and so the individuals coming to the classes were also unfamiliar to me. Teaching this type of class, where I am unfamiliar with the room, the students, their practice, and their expectations is extremely confronting. When teaching these classes, I try to be authentic to my teaching style while reading the class and their responses to the practice. Regardless, I tend to feel a little uncertain after these classes.
I'm continually trying to deepen my practice and thus my teaching. Working with Martine, reading various texts, and continuing my daily practice all contribute. But after teaching my class this past Monday evening, I felt a little off. I had practiced reading my class, I gave them what I thought they could handle and needed, and I think that the class went well overall. However, after the class my personal well-being felt a little challenged. I reflected on the class, couldn't identify a reason for my feelings, and then went to do some reading on Yoga Journal's website to work toward an answer.
The article I was drawn to was one on surrender. I read about shifting my perspective from my own inner-world to the larger big-picture. I know I'm often an emotional person, but I started to cry as I read this article. I felt like my own practice needed more "heartfulness" practice (similar in concept to "mindfulness," but in a spirit of offering). A practice as an offering is a hard concept for me to grasp. I'm used to practicing for myself and to better myself; which in turn will be reflected in how I live my life and interact with others. However, shifting to think of my practice as an offering to the world made me feel excited. I felt like I had been drawn to this article to deepen my practice (and teaching) to allow the next "breakthrough." I think that the feeling I had Monday night was one of stagnated contentment. I was happy with the class, but I felt a little stuck.
I know that not every practice or every class I teach can feel like the class in State College. Every practice, every class, and every day is different. But I really like the idea of heartfulness, and hope that heartfulness in my practice, classes, and life will assist in creating experiences similar to the one I had at my "home" studio, where heartfulness was natural.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
HOLIDAY!
it's true, i've always been a fan of periods. but if you take the first (or heaviest) day of your menstrual cycle as a HOLIDAY, you'll looooove your period. martine has been telling me this. and today it happened.
today i was planning to work from home, because of a meeting in the city in the afternoon. after a short run this morning, i did a little work, decided to get my hair cut (since i desperately needed it and my hair stylist was conveniently available), and then went into my meeting. instead of strictly planning meals and snacks for the day, i ate when i was hungry and enjoyed my day. (i know, i know, this doesn't sound so holiday-ish to you, right?) in the afternoon, i realized billy could come to the cafe with me to do work. we enjoyed sitting, sipping coffee, and dueling w our computers until i had to go to my mud wrap appointment.
now, this was pure coincidence--but an amazing one. i had a coupon for a 70% off mud wrap, and i had scheduled it for today about 6 weeks ago. luckily, this was a HOLIDAY.
i went to the mud wrap a little nervous--i've never had one and wasn't so sure about what would be involved. first i was scrubbed with salt, next the salt was removed with hot towels, then warm mud was spread all over my body and i was wrapped up in foil like a baked potato. i lay in my mummy wrap being heated. while lying there, i practiced some yogic breathing. i did several cycles of a few different breathing types until i was so relaxed my brain started seeing beautiful images of exotic places and people. i could feel happiness and warmth throughout my spirit.
finally, i was taken to a hot tub-bath tub where i was given a glass of champagne to relax with while the jets assisted in removing the mud. when i exited the bath, my skin was soft, my body was relaxed, and my mind felt free.
the mud wrap experience was fantastic--something i'd do each month if i could afford it! i felt as good as i do after an amazing yoga class. i enjoyed the wrap so much, and i didn't really expect to. i often have a hard time enjoying relaxing, or just being. but this experience showed me that maybe i haven't been doing relaxing things that i enjoyed as much; or maybe that i wasn't opening myself up to the experience of relaxing as much before. or maybe i just needed a good excuse to allow myself to enjoy it (HOLIDAY!).
... whatever the reason for the bliss i felt this evening, i feel grateful.
today i was planning to work from home, because of a meeting in the city in the afternoon. after a short run this morning, i did a little work, decided to get my hair cut (since i desperately needed it and my hair stylist was conveniently available), and then went into my meeting. instead of strictly planning meals and snacks for the day, i ate when i was hungry and enjoyed my day. (i know, i know, this doesn't sound so holiday-ish to you, right?) in the afternoon, i realized billy could come to the cafe with me to do work. we enjoyed sitting, sipping coffee, and dueling w our computers until i had to go to my mud wrap appointment.
now, this was pure coincidence--but an amazing one. i had a coupon for a 70% off mud wrap, and i had scheduled it for today about 6 weeks ago. luckily, this was a HOLIDAY.
i went to the mud wrap a little nervous--i've never had one and wasn't so sure about what would be involved. first i was scrubbed with salt, next the salt was removed with hot towels, then warm mud was spread all over my body and i was wrapped up in foil like a baked potato. i lay in my mummy wrap being heated. while lying there, i practiced some yogic breathing. i did several cycles of a few different breathing types until i was so relaxed my brain started seeing beautiful images of exotic places and people. i could feel happiness and warmth throughout my spirit.
finally, i was taken to a hot tub-bath tub where i was given a glass of champagne to relax with while the jets assisted in removing the mud. when i exited the bath, my skin was soft, my body was relaxed, and my mind felt free.
the mud wrap experience was fantastic--something i'd do each month if i could afford it! i felt as good as i do after an amazing yoga class. i enjoyed the wrap so much, and i didn't really expect to. i often have a hard time enjoying relaxing, or just being. but this experience showed me that maybe i haven't been doing relaxing things that i enjoyed as much; or maybe that i wasn't opening myself up to the experience of relaxing as much before. or maybe i just needed a good excuse to allow myself to enjoy it (HOLIDAY!).
... whatever the reason for the bliss i felt this evening, i feel grateful.
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