When our practice brings us something unexpected

Something that yoga people often talk about is "beginner's mind," which refers to the idea that even when you are a teacher, or a seasoned practicioner, every time you come to your mat your practice has something new to offer you. Even when you think you know what you are getting into, even when you think, "This is old hat," or "This teacher isn't giving me what I need," (perhaps especially if your mind is telling you those things) it is a good time to step back from your ego and say, "This is a new experience." Every moment is a new experience. Even when you think you know what is going to happen, you don't.

Last night I attended a yoga class I don't usually go to, with a teacher I am not as familiar with. In the beginning of this class, I realized it was a Hatha class, not a Vinyasa or Flow, which is my preferred style of practice. (Hatha tends to be a more slow-paced class, suitable for beginners AND those who have been practicing for a while. More time is spent in each pose, without the use of a chaturanga dandasana flow to move between poses.) And with that realization a familiar annoyance crept up. The one where I thought, "I wanted a Vinyasa class, why didn't I pay more attention to the schedule?" Perhaps due to my rushing through the day, not really looking at what I was doing carefully? Ego-check number one.

The other annoyance that crept in was annoyance at the teacher, for not being my familiar teacher, for not saying the things I wished she would say (that which I am familiar with) and because she was standing at the back of class, where I could not see her, and naming the poses with their Sansrit names, not all of which are immediately recognizable to me...So I found myself in a beginner's mindset, not by choice, but forced there by circumstance. I had to look around class and few times and see what other people were doing, before moving into my version of the intended pose. Me! Who is a teacher! Who teaches her VERY OWN CLASS! Every single Saturday! (Ego! Ego! Ego!)

It's easy to fall into a mindset where we think we know all we need to know about our practice. In that mindset, practice becomes rote, we are just going through the motions, and this is no longer yoga. (Remember that yoga is the union between mind and body.)

In yoga we are striving (or maybe not striving, striving sounds like we are working too hard-) we are allowing ourselves the opportunity to listen to the body's own intuition, to the inner healer that resides within each of us. With every practice, every time we step onto our mat, we are given a unique opportunity to learn something about our Ego, and something about our True Self (Or higher self, the Ishavara Pranidhana we seek on our mats is the surrender to God/Higher Self/Source/Universe.) If we can open up that door in our heart space enough to be present, and listen for it. It is there. It whispers to us through the words of our teachers, as we close our eyes and focus our dristi, our gaze, to a centered point.

Something I did in this class to help myself along this journey was to say the words to myself, when I found my Ego being bothered that this teacher wasn't "doing things right."

"This teacher is good teacher. She, as every human, has something to offer me. I allow myself this opportunity to learn from this person."

Before I knew it I was having an amazing release on my mat. Which is to say, I found myself crying in a pose. It was a simple pose, one that is not hard for me to do at all, but which I do not practice often. I moved into it with ease and then tears sprang to my eyes. They were tears of release, of working through something that is coming up for me in my life, not related to the practice itself, but actually inherently intertwined with it. This is the practice. To know thyself.

My intention that I had set for that practice was "Accept." I try to choose simple, one-word intentions, and usually go with the first word that pops into my head when I sit down on my mat in meditation before class, when I open my heart to listen to what it needs that day. What I found was a greater acceptance than I could have hoped for.


By the end of class I was crying once again in Savasana. The teacher came over to me and offered me some silent Reiki. Or at least I think she did. My eyes were covered, but I felt her presence, standing over me, holding her hands at my heart space, clearing the way for me to breathe more freely, to feel what I was feeling, to allow it to clear from my body, from my heart and from my soul. After class she came up to hug me and asked if I was doing okay. I told her simply that I was "going through some things" and hugged her gratefully.

"Work it out on the mat, girl, work it out on the mat," was her only response, which could not have been more perfect. She squeezed my shoulder and moved on to greet her next student.

Work it out on the mat, indeed.

Welcoming opportunity, releasing fear

“If we do not leap
then we’ll never understand
what it is to fly.” -Tyler Knott Gregson

I am excited to say that I have been offered an opportunity to take over my teacher Carrie's Saturday morning class. This is such a cool thing, and I am really flattered that she offered the very well-attended class to me. I also almost said no immediately when she offered it to me.

When I examined my reasons for wanting to say no, I discovered beneath the initial "I don't want to get up early on Saturdays" complaints my brain was lodging, was an underlying fear of failure. A little voice that I am sure many of us area familiar with that was saying to me, "who do you think you are kidding? You can't teach this class! And you certainly can't step in and fill the shoes of your teacher. No one will come if you take this class, just like your other classes that you tried to teach. You are a failure and you will always be a failure. So don't even try."

Sound familiar? I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that this was my initial response to something that I have really wanted, something I have worked hard and studied and paid in sweat and tears and practiced long hours to be able to do. I was speaking to a friend about it (another teacher that I know) and she confided in me that she feels this way every time she walks into the studio to teach. Every time she steps in to sub a class for someone else. Then I was discussing with another friend who teaches fitness to individuals and she said "You mean you were having the feeling that everyone will know that you are a fraud?" And my response was Yes! Exactly this!

I guess the answer is that everyone feels this way sometimes. Even though I am prepared to take on this class, and my teacher knows that I am prepared (or she would not be giving me the opportunity to ruin her livelihood by giving me this class) I still have this feeling that I do not know enough to run a class, that I will never know enough.

I do want to take more training, I want to study with Dave and Cheryl Oliver, I want to study with Brian Kest and Jeff Martens. But just because I have not done more training than just the 200-hour program, does not mean that I am not qualified to teach right now. I am. I just need to get over myself and start doing it.

This is why I said Yes to my desire to teach in the first place, after having said "No, you can't" for so long. I listened to the intuition which was telling me that I knew I had a place in this world and this place is to teach others what I have experienced in my own practice of yoga over the past 15 years. I have knowledge and that knowledge is valuable and I have the ability (and the desire) to share that experience with others. I have the desire to help others understand that their own body is a magical thing, that they are made of energy and we are all made of energy (at one with all that is.) Edges and boundaries, though they occur in this perception of reality, are useful and real, but they are also not real. Everything, including you and I, including this table that my laptop rests on, radiates energy, and when we can move our bodies into stillness, and thereby move our minds into a place of stillness, we can create this experience where we are One with everything, and we experience an overwhelming sense of peace, and rightness.

So, although I may not have the exact Sanskrit name of every Asana memorized, and I may not have every concept of Yoga Philosophy memorized, I still have vast experience and knowledge and I do have the ability to communicate that knowledge and experience to others who are willing to listen.

I need to get over the concept that people are coming to the class to look at me or listen to me, and remind myself that people come to yoga to listen to themselves, and listen to their own relationship to themselves. To learn from their own intuition. I am a conduit, I can help lead people to their own truths, I cannot impart my truth upon others.

Things I learned from my yoga hiatus

1. If I don't go to the studio, I don't practice.

Remember all that jazz about, "I'll still continue to practice even at home, while I take this break from official classes?" And how I said I would continue a meditation practice at home? Yeah, didn't happen. Even with the best of intentions, I always manage to find something "more important" that calls me away from yoga. This is one of the big reasons I like to practice at a studio. No distractions. You go there for one purpose, you accomplish that purpose, and you go home. Of course the camraderie is just a bonus. Which leads me to:

2. I miss my yoga friends.

Yes, you. I have kept up with a few of my closer yoga family via email, but it's just not the same as that fellowship of going to class twice a week and seeing those friendly familiar faces smiling at me. I miss my fellow students!

3. My body doesn't like me when I don't practice.

As I type this, I have a pain in my wrist that feels like carpal tunnel (in fact, I just moved my mouse back over to the right side of my computer keyboard.) My left wrist is starting to have a near-constant pain in it, from holding the mouse (Mousing? Is that a verb now?)  I also have a slight tinge in my low-back, and a tightness in my shoulders. This is a good reminder of why I practice. Not only does it bring me a feeling of peacefulness within my mind (calms the mind-stuff) it also opens the energy channles in my body and acts as a natural pain-reliever.

4. I have a lot more time for those "other projects" at home now.

Although I only go to yoga typically twice a week (sometimes 3, but usually 2) I found that without it I have lots more time to do those creative things around the house that I had been missing. Of course it does not make up for all the other reasons I miss the practice. I'm going back tomorrow and I can't wait!

My creative brain thanks me for taking the break. My body may have even appreciated it, though it's not making that real clear right now. But I do miss my mat. And I can't wait to sweat it out in Ashtanga tomorrow night! 

PS, I realized I did not update this blog when I got my CT scan results on Friday. Turns out I do not have Valley Fever. The cough was caused by asthma, which is a result of nasal polyps and a severe sinus infection. I'm on another week of antibiotics, and I have an appointment with an ENT specialist, to find out if the polyps are malignant (they assured me this is just a precaution, most likely they are not cancerous.) After I see the ENT they should be able to tell me what the next steps are with regards to shrinking them. Possibly medication. Maybe surgery. I am hoping for the former.

I plan on seeing an acupuncturist in conjunction with the ENT as well. I'd like to get my immune system up to par, and hopefully stop having to fight things with antibiotics, which makes me generally uncomfortable.


Last, but certainly not least, I will be teaching at my alma matter (can I say that, about a yoga school?) starting in September. I am very much looking forward to having a weekly class and gaining a regular clientele. Classes will be at 6:00 pm or 6:30 (TBD.) 

~Namaste!~

Making Space for Creating Health

Due to my ongoing health condition, I have made the very difficult decision to pause my practice and teaching schedule for a while. My bodywork practice will be on hold for a bit as well.

It's become abundantly clear to me over the past several weeks that I have been trying to do too much, and while any person who is trying to get a new business up and running can tell you it is exhausting, trying to do it while working a full-time job to pay the bills, and care for two boys, and on top of that being sick with a now-chronic illness, is just not a good idea at all.

So, I have chosen myself. I have chosen to listen to my internal guidance, as I would tell any of my students to do, and take a clear and defined break. I'm cutting back on my social engagements, cutting out working with clients, for now, and stopping my twice weekly Ashtanga practice and my teaching schedule.

I'll continue to do my restorative classes (as a student) and I will continue to study and practice meditation at home during this sabbatical. My hope is that I will come back refreshed and renewed and ready to teach with gusto again in September.

I'm working really hard to let go of the fear that I will not return to this goal, once I have stopped the momentum. This is the reason I was pushing forward when I should have been pausing. I am choosing to "embrace the fear" and not let it control me. The fear will be there whether I push through or not, so I am choosing rest and contemplation, meditation and restoration, over pushing the limits of what is healthy for my body, and my mind.

Hope to see you all again in September! I'm sure that I will be here blogging from time to time, at least to give updates to my status.

~Namaste, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti, Om~

Learning to Embody Compassion

I've been dealing with an illness for about two months now. The running theme in my head for these two months has been "You know, this could be much worse. Suck it up, keep going. You'll get better eventually."

I went to see my doctor after only a week and a half of coughing, because I knew that something wasn't right. I've had bronchitis before (as a former smoker, I used to get bronchitis about once a year actually) so I am familiar with the symptoms. I knew right away that this was no typical cough.

The doctor agreed, and she immediately put me on a course of antibiotics, as well as an asthma inhaler. After the ten day course, I was feeling slightly better. I figured the antibiotic had worked, and my body was just dealing with lingering mucous that would clear on its own. Another week later, I was still coughing just as much as before the medical treatment and now my sinuses were bothering me too, so back to the doctor I went.

This time I left her office with orders to get a different antibiotic prescription filled, and a shiny new inhaler to use twice a day in addition to the original inhaler (there are two different types of asthma treatments-- the fast-acting "rescue inhaler" and the slower-acting and longer-lasting type.) She still wasn't convinced I had asthma, so this time she ordered an x-ray of my lungs and a blood test for valley fever.

I've lived in Arizona my whole life, but apparently the fungal spores that cause valley fever can be inhaled at any time; living here a long time does not necessarily preclude you from coming down with it. My own doctor had it after 16 years of living here.

The initial test came back positive, but with the caveat that there are a lot of false positive results, and a clear chest x-ray, she could not be entirely sure I had it. I had to wait a week and go for the blood test again, to see if I had developed any new antibodies for the infection.

Today I went for the results of that test, convinced that I would be getting a positive result, and then with that diagnosis we would be able to decide whether the best course of action would be to put me on the antifungal treatment that is commonly used for Valley Fever. When I got the result, it was not entirely what I expected, another inconclusive test result, and an order to go get CT scans done on my nasal passages and my chest.

Because of the severity and length of the sinus infection, she also prescribed yet another course of antibiotics; this will now be my third round, trying to treat this thing.

I have orders to go see a pulmonologist if the CT scans come back with anything unusual. Hearing this was perhaps the final thing that caused me to lose it. I left the office quietly, prescriptions in hand, and got in my car and cried, head against the steering wheel, despite the hotness of it, the car having been sitting in the sun for the better part of an hour.

I can no longer say that I am feeling strong about this. I am tired of being sick. I can tell myself that my illness is not likely to be terminal, and therefore my diagnosis is not as bad as someone with terminal cancer. But that unfortunately does not change how I feel today, which is defeated, fatigued and tired.

I am tired of the doctor visits, I am tired of the diarrhea from the havoc the antibiotics cause in my digestive tract. I am tired of coughing. I am tired of fatigued chest muscles, I am tired of not being able to get a full breath. I am tired of feeling tired all of the time.

And through all of this experience of illness, I have been reading a book called The Places that Scare You, by Pema Chodron. The book teaches about a series of Buddhist  techniques called bodhichitta. The book teaches that there are two types of bodhichitta. One is a type called unconditional bodhichitta. This is the experience of being free from concept, opinion, and our "usual all-caught-uppedness." The second is relative bodhichitta, which is our ability to keep open hearts and minds during times of suffering, and a heart that is open to experiencing the suffering of others, without shutting down or pushing away those bad emotions.   One of the Buddhist teachings is that suffering is one of the three marks of existence (along with that nothing is static or fixed, all is fleeting and impermanent; and egolessness.) According to Suzuki Roshi, "It is only by practicing through a continual succession of agreeable and disagreeable situations that we acquire true strength. To accept that pain is inherent and to live our lives from this understanding is to create the causes and conditions for happiness."

 I think that by denying my unhappiness at my current situation, by continuing to tell myself "it's going to be okay" and "keep your chin up" and "other people have it worse than you, so stop your feeling sorry for yourself" I was not allowing myself to experience the frustration and the anger and upsetness that I feel over this illness. It is only through allowing myself to cry when I feel like crying, without letting myself get caught up in the story of the emotion, or getting carried away by it, but in truly experiencing the feelings as they rise up, can I move through them.

What is amazing to me is that I need to learn this lesson over and over again in this lifetime, and probably through many lifetimes. I know that learning to practice equanimity (acceptance of what is without being carried away into feeling mad or sad about the experience) is a lifelong lesson.

"If we can contact the vulnerability and rawness of resentment or rage or whatever it is, a bigger perspective can emerge. In the moment we choose to abide with the energy instead of acting it out or repressing it, we are training in equanimity, in thinking bigger than right and wrong. This is how the four limitless qualities evolve from limited to limitless: we practice catching our mind hardening into fixed views and do our best to soften. Through softening, the barriers come down."

So today I will choose to practice softening to those emotions that are causing me to harden my heart, I will practice compassion towards myself, and in turn, to others who are also suffering. I will not compare my level of  suffering to others' but I will remind myself to extend compassion and an openness towards others who are also suffering.

May I be free, free from suffering, and the causes of suffering. 
May you be free, free from suffering and the causes of suffering. 
May all beings be free, free from suffering and the causes of suffering. --Buddhist prayer

Testimonial to my teacher

"The more you learn to trust yourself, the more easily you can tap into your gifts." I quote this directly from Carrie's blog, Free to be Me, a Guide to Remembering your Life's Dharma. Full disclosure: Carrie has become a dear friend to me during the process of becoming one of my greatest teachers. She possesses the tremendous quality of being able to "show me the nature of my mind, and reveal my hidden faults" [quote by Pema Chodron] as well as my unique gifts. Through a variety of techniques, not least of which is a soulful ability to listen and reflect myself back to me without judgement, Carrie has helped me to grow into a teacher who is now ready to expand outward and bring my own practice of teaching yoga to my students. I entered her teacher training knowing that I wanted to teach yoga, but still full of trepidation- would I be good enough? Would anyone want to hear what I had to say? Carrie used her own experiences as examples and in doing so she has helped me tap into my unique voice.

Through such practices as going within (in meditation and chanting) and encouraging the vocalization and sharing of our own soul stories in small classes, she teaches us that we are all good enough just as we are. She has helped me to trust my own intuition- my True Nature- that which is at its essence simple goodness, wisdom, and loving kindness. Most importantly, through Carrie's quiet humor, I learned to laugh at myself when the going was hard, rather than to emotionally beat myself up, when facing some of those tough challenges that we all face in this life.

I count myself very lucky to have found Carrie, and to be her student and her friend. Few people I know are as compassionate, kind, and as selfless as she has proven herself to be.

Expansion, Love, Joy (Finding peace at Firefly)

*Sculpture by: Paige Bradley http://paigebradley.com/sculpture/expansion.html

This beautiful piece of artwork captures how I feel after spending the weekend at Firefly. Filled up, with love, with peace, with bright energy and light, to the point where it is overflowing from my being. Someone commented on it at work today, said that I looked radiant. It's because I feel radiant.

I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to interact with so many beautiful souls out in the forest, it really was a gathering full of lightness and radiant heart-energy and peace and so much joy! 

My kids joined me at this event, and you could see in their eyes how much fun they were having! (Okay, well, not so much the teenager, but the youngest was definitely in his element out there!) 

These photos do not do justice to how much joy was in my younger son's face when he was dancing, spinning poi, or just running around with the other little "Fireflies." One thing he said to me during the weekend was, "This is much better than school, because you don't have to go to anything you don't want to!" He was referring, I think, to the sense of freedom he had out there. There were planned activities for the kids, but he was free to attend, or not attend them. Mostly I let him have free reign over what he chose to do, and he ran with that freedom. He would check in with me when he was hungry or needed a hug or some downtime. But I don't think that my kids have ever really had an opportunity to be outdoors in a situation where, among many other people, most of whom were strangers, they could just do as they pleased.

I think a big part of the key to what he said, applies to us grown-ups that were at the event as well. How often do we get an entire weekend where we can do literally WHATEVER we choose? Maybe for those who aren't parents this is not the case, but I know that many of  my weekends are filled with things like chores, and laundry, and taking the kids to various birthday parties or other activities. These are things I do out of love, but not necessarily what I would choose if I had total freedom to do what I wanted (read, no responsibilities to anyone but myself & my community.)

Although I was with my children at this event, I felt that lack of pressure to complete certain tasks during the weekend freed us up to have more connection. With each other as well as with others around us. I had so many wonderful conversations, so many opportunites for good hugs and also to step away from it all and spend some time with myself. 

The organizers had put together a "quiet zone" which was a peaceful zen meditation area, complete with three separate shade structures, lounge chairs, a few futons, and some chimes, prayer flags, and other peaceful offerings to be enjoyed out in the wilderness.



I spent some time meditating on this prayer card I chose, while looking out over this view. In the background there, you can see the dome where we practiced yoga later on that morning.

My heartfelt thanks goes out to those dedicated individuals who made this weekend happen, and all the work of the wonderful chefs who graciously donated their time so we could be fed delicious food all weekend! So much gratitude to those lovely souls who touched my heart in various ways, sharing their music, their art, and their Selves. Everyone shone so brightly out there!

And that is the point. To allow ourselves to shine, and to bring that back into the "default world" in which we all live, and continue to share that heart energy, and that intention of love with all those with whom we interact on a daily basis.

I am humbled, I am joyful, I am ever-grateful.

Namaste, Shanti, peace, peace, peace.