Breath is Life

Breath is directly linked to life force energy. Yoga often uses the word prana which refers both to the breath and to the vital energies of our body.  As we move breath through the body, we also move Prana. The steadiness, fullness and depth of our breath reflects the same characteristics of that vital flow of energy. The practice of pranayama, the fourth limb of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, is the practice of intentionally directing the movement of the breath. It requires practice to become aware of our breath and to direct it intentionally. As we focus our attention on the movement of our inhales and exhales, our awareness is drawn inward to experience ourselves on a deeper, less distracted level. So how does this benefit us? What are the effects of breath control?

On the physiological level, breath is literally life. The oxygen we take into our bodies through breath is processed through our lungs and heart into our blood where it is transferred throughout the body to every single cell. Within the cells, oxygen is the catalyst for the chemical reaction that creates energy, it keeps our cells alive. Our cells breathe. Breath equals prana equals life. The more effective our breathing, the healthier our bodies are on the cellular level. The health of our cells affects the well being of the entirety of our anatomy: our abdominal organs, our brain, our muscles, bones, skin, blood… literally everything.

While breathing is something that happens naturally without our effort it is also something that we can control, direct, and manipulate. It can happen on the subconscious level as well as the conscious level, a function of the autonomic as well as the somatic nervous systems. It is the only system in the body like this. 

The autonomic nervous system is divided into the sympathetic, our fight, flight, or freeze response, and parasympathetic, our rest and digest function. You may easily observe how the breath responds within these two functions. When we are stressed, experiencing some extreme emotion or circumstance, our breath becomes quick, forceful, possibly erratic. When we are at rest, calm, and peaceful, our breath slows, and lengthens, even quiets. Our breath responds to our state of mind and emotions. This relationship also exists in the reverse. Our nervous system is affected by our breath. By intentionally slowing, lengthening, deepening the breath, we send a message via the diagram and vegas nerve throughout our body that all is well, we are safe, we are at peace, slowing the heart rate and initiating relaxation. Through the breath, we can control the state of our minds and emotions, we can control our experiences. 

In our asana practice, we are increasingly challenging the steadiness of our breath. The first layer of an asana practice, especially a vinyasa method, is the breath. The breath establishes a rhythm and dynamic, and we then layer movement over it. Ideally the movement and positions of our bodies do not alter the pace, rhythm, or tone of our breath. Of course, this is difficult, this is the challenge, this is the point. We are intentionally creating increasingly intense situations for our nervous system and then requiring our breath to remain steady, requiring our nervous system to remain steady. This practice over time lengthens the space between impulses, allowing us the time to make intentional discriminative choices of response rather than pre-thought reaction. Establishing control of breath affects the experience of our nervous system, allowing us to grab the reins of our impulses, directing thought and eventually life force energy.

Pranayama practice similarly creates a challenge for our nervous system but instead of maintaining an even steadiness of breath, it varies the rhythm and pace of breath, working with retentions and alternating the use of the nostrils. By challenging the extremes of breath, it challenges the experience of the nervous system and asks us to remain calm, remain at peace, remain in control. Physiologically, it strengthens the muscles of respiration and increases lung capacity which improves the efficacy of the function of breathing.

New research is still being done on the breath, particularly how it affects our brain and its functions. One recent study I’ve heard about focused on different mindfulness practices, like yoga asana and meditation. They found that the common link that resulted in neurological benefits was the attention to the breath. Another breath study of epileptics came to a similar conclusion, they observed that different types of controlled breathing activated different regions of the brain, noting that simply focusing on controlling the breath may be the key. Our focused intention lights up otherwise un-accessed parts of the brain. A third study I recently came across was related to how breath affects the cleansing function of brain fluid. The fluid of the brain is meant to draw out impurities and toxins to be filtered and released from the body. The depth and breadth of the breath seemed to increase the volume and effectiveness of this process which has implications for diseases like Alzheimers. 

The breath is our link between the conscious and subconscious mind. It is the communication between our body’s experience and our mind’s awareness. It is connection. The breath supports the vitality of every key cell in our body, affecting the functionality of every system. It is the force that drives vitality, prana. It is life. Giving attention to breath in our yogic practices provides deep and broad benefits to our body, mind, and spirit.

Demystifying the Mysore Method

Demystifying the Mysore Method

I teach the Mysore method of Ashtanga Yoga.  Have you heard of it? If you practice any yoga technique you have probably heard of Ashtanga, but Mysore may be a mystery.  And even if you have some knowledge of what Mysore is, the idea of taking a class may be a bit intimidating.  I totally understand. It is hard to anticipate what you are in for when you think about taking your first Mysore class. However, it really is a very welcoming and inclusive form of yoga practice even for beginners. Maybe especially for beginners. Allow me to clear up some of the haze around the mysterious Mysore Method.

First of all, let’s be clear on what Ashtanga is. Ashtanga Yoga is a vinyasa method. Vinyasa refers to the synchronizing of movement to breath. Breath is the first layer, a steady flowing of in and out, setting the pace and dynamic of your yoga practice. The body’s movement is layered over the constant rhythm of the breath. In a vinyasa method, such as Ashtanga, the postures, moments of stillness, are linked by transitional movement sequences. Every breath has an assignment, either to maintain and deepen the experience within the posture or to transition from one posture to the next. In this way, the mental connection to the practice can remain unbroken. From the first inhalation to the last exhalation, the practitioner is asked to stay focused, stay engaged, stay in their yoga.

Ashtanga is a vinyasa method that has a set sequence of postures. You do the same postures in the same order ever time. The sequence is progressive in that each posture is built on the information received from previous ones. There are six series of postures, each one more challenging than the last. The first is referred to as Primary Series, also Yoga Chikitsa, yoga therapy, and is intended to rehabilitate the body. The postures address the main areas of the body: spinal column, hips, knees, shoulders, as well as the internal organs. The intention is to assist in healing old injuries, correcting chronic patterns, and bringing the body to its most optimal neutral state. The second series, referred to as intermediate series, or Nadi Shodana, is a practice of nerve cleansing. This practice deals with purifying the energy channels of the body. The third series and beyond continue to challenge the physical body and the subtle bodies of energy, mind, emotion, and spirit in increasingly deep and intense ways. Each series can take many years to learn and fully integrate. Most practitioners find a lifetime of benefit within the primary series alone. A handful may venture into the intermediate series and only a few work their way into the advanced series of Ashtanga Yoga. 

Mysore then is the traditional self-practice approach to the Ashtanga technique. It derives its name from the city in India, Mysuru, where it developed and where the current head of the lineage continues to live and teach. In a Mysore class, each student moves independently, according to the timing of their own breath, through the sequence of postures as they have learned them from their teacher. The teacher moves through the room, giving assistance, instruction, and guidance as needed on a one on one basis. This method requires a commitment of time and effort. Frequent and consistent practice results in deeper understanding and greater connection to the work of the yoga. It is considered to be a daily practice that includes one day of rest per week, rest on the full and new moons, and rest for women during their monthly cycles.

When a student new to the practice begins, the teacher provides a lot of attention and instruction, teaching them the beginning sequences of the practice, bit by bit. They do not need to know anything about Ashtanga to begin, they don’t even need to know anything about yoga! The instructor meets them where they are and teaches them the practice at the pace that best suits them. Every practitioner is different and this method honors that. The teacher determines the student’s readiness to progress deeper into the challenges of the practice. As the student mentally integrates the order of postures and physically integrates the information of each pose, the teacher gives them more information, more poses, building slowly and intentionally through the series.

The nature of the method allows for a significant amount of independence for the student. They are required to memorize the order of postures and to flow through them according to that memory. They are also given the space and time to give attention to areas they struggle with. A student may do one posture two or three times to work on obstacles before continuing through the sequence, or may stay a bit longer in order explore an experience. There is opportunity for each student to do the work they need to do in order to best receive benefit of the practice.

This method also allows for a relationship to develop between student and teacher. A good teacher of Ashtanga Mysore is assessing your progress as it projects forward into the days, weeks, months, even years to come. They are aiming to develop a program that will help you navigate the practice according to your specific strengths and weakness. Trust grows in this relationship based on an understanding and empathy from the teacher and a knowledge that the teacher has themselves gone through the same process. The student is tasked with finding their teacher, the person they connect with, can trust, and allow the overall guidance of their practice. 

Ashtanga Mysore can be an incredibly transformative yoga practice. The set sequence allows for a daily checking in of progress and the fluctuations caused by…well, life. If the practice remains the same, day to day, what changes? We do. Our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual states are subject to fluctuations. This is natural. The consistency and structure of the Ashtanga method is the framework within which we can become aware of and assess these fluctuations. As we develop understanding of how our lives affect us, we can make choices. We can learn to respond intentionally rather than react impulsively or out of habit. The set sequence also allows for muscle memory to develop, freeing the focus of the mind to enter a more meditative state. When we no longer have to think about what pose comes next, we can fully immerse in the present, in the sensations of the posture and the thoughts and emotions that arise. We can find and cultivate the inner witness of the present moment, the self that observes and can remain steady within the swirl of distraction. When the self can be at peace, no matter the intensity of the posture, the self can also be at peace no matter what challenges are encountered off the mat. 

From the Archives: March 30, 2019 Why Do You Practice Yoga?

Why Do You Practice Yoga?

I recently sat in on a book club meeting at a yoga studio. The book being discussed was A Way From Darkness by Taylor Hunt. It details his personal journey from addiction to healing through his Ashtanga Yoga practice. For the club meeting, the author himself skyped in to share in the discussion and answer questions. It was an inspirational afternoon. One thing in particular that Taylor said resonated deeply and has stuck with me. When asked how to remain disciplined in practice, how to continue to get up every morning, get on the mat, give energy to this practice, he answered that you have to find your Why. Capital W. 

We come to our yoga practice for many reasons. Maybe we are trying to get fit. Maybe we are trying to reduce stress. Maybe we just tagged along with a friend and ended up having a lot of fun! But if you practice for a while, you may find that your initial reasons cease to motivate you.

When you experience some physical restriction, an injury, pain, etc your yoga practice changes. It is hard to choose to get on your mat when you can’t do the same things you used to be capable of, when you have to move more slowly, or modify postures, or simply do less. Feeling good in your body is no longer a possible why. When the practice becomes challenging, you struggle with a new posture that you really want to accomplish, you struggle to build strength, or access greater flexibility, you find yourself being critical of your own efforts and self-judgment arises, difficult emotions that you just don’t want to deal with, difficult thought patterns and beliefs arise that you struggle to hold onto or struggle to let go of - a peaceful state of mind no longer seems like a possible why. When the friend that first brought you to class no longer attends, when you find yourself making different choices in your daily life so that you can take class, giving up late nights or that happy hour, or choosing a salad over that burger, you may wonder if the is practice still fun? Is socializing and having a good time still your why?

Find your Why. When you struggle with thoughts of “Why am I doing this?” “Is this really my practice?” “Am I really going to do this for the rest of my life?” it is time for some reflection. It is time to be honest with yourself about why you are choosing this practice. What is your Why? Capital W. In order to continue, day after day, through the difficulties, the challenges, the aches and pains, the emotional turmoil, the tedious work work work, the Why has to be big. Bigger than the pain in your knee, bigger than the tears, bigger than that cocktail, even bigger than that relationship. 

Find your Why. No one can tell you what that is. And it will be a reckoning you face time and time again as you continue your yoga journey. All yoga, every method, every practice is at its heart, a method of self-discovery, of self-revealing. If your yoga does not challenge you to look deep within, beyond the experience of the body, the mind, even the heart, it is not fulfilling its purpose. If you are struggling with this question, “Why am I doing this?” then you are deep within a truly transformative moment. Stay. Stay with the question. Don’t resist it, don’t judge its presence, or try to wish it away. Find your Why. The Why that makes everything else worth it. The Why that gives true meaning and purpose to the work. The question is your teacher. Settle into it, let it wrap around you and seep into you. The answer will come. 

Why do I choose this practice? Because I truly believe that there is a profound spiritual truth buried deep within my awareness and my daily practice is a slow and gradual digging and cleansing and revealing, like excavating an important archeological site with a toothbrush. My Why is the need to experience the true nature of my divine self. That Why is worth anything I might experience on my mat, it gets me through every difficult moment of doubt and feelings of defeat, it is bigger than all of my questions.

Find your Why.

From the Archives: January 25, 2018 Multi-Dimensional Yoga Practice

Multi-Dimensional Yoga Practice

There are so many different methods of yoga out there these days, and even more different types of teachers. And thank goodness for that, because there are just as many different types of students. I am someone who believes that there is a yoga for everyone, you just have to find it! It can take a while, sometimes years, before a student finds the right method, teacher, class for them. 

The key is to recognize how you approach your yoga practice, and then search for experiences that take you further. According to Patanjali in his Yoga Sutras, an ancient yogic text often considered to be the quintessential guide to practitioners, yoga is restraining the tendencies of the mind. Yoga asks us to identify our tendencies and get out of the groove of our comfort zones, what he calls, samskara. Yoga is a practice of self-transformation. There is no growth when we stick to what we know, what we have always done. It is in the unknown spaces that we discover ourselves. 

I see four primary ways that people interact with their world, other people, and themselves. They are Physically, Intellectually, Emotionally, and Spiritually. While we undoubtedly have a combination of these factors influencing our lives, there is probably one that takes the lead. Think about the environments that you feel most comfortable in, your career, your favorite school subjects, your hobbies and interests. Your influencing characteristic will also guide your choice of yoga class. Do you prefer a method that is more alignment based, or energetic? Something vigorous or something restorative? Do you prefer a teacher that focuses on anatomy or one that speaks of more metaphysical directions? 

It is easy to settle into a class that feeds our tendencies, the way we are most comfortable connecting to ourselves. We love taking classes with teachers whose sequences happen to be all of the poses we can actually do and enjoy doing! But then, where is the growth? If there is no space to assess ourselves through new experiences, we are missing out on the opportunity to evolve, and this is the true intention of any yoga method - to move beyond the self that we think we know, to get to know the true nature of the self. 

A truly beneficial method, teacher, or class, is one that provides enough of what is familiar to you to give you a sense of comfort and trust, to allow you to connect but also encourages you to experience yourself in other ways. The word “yoga” is often translated to mean union. The experience of yoga is a union of all aspects of the self - the body, the mind, the heart, and the soul. It may be a bit scary to step into unknown experiences. In fact, it probably should be! Certainly it should challenge you.

Yoga should aim to move you beyond what you think you know, to what you had no idea was already there. This may mean you discover that your body is more capable than you thought, or that you actually really enjoy meditation, or maybe that you enjoy studying philosophies and reading texts. You are more than your body, a collection of muscles and bones - more than your anatomy. You are more than data gathering and questions - more than your thoughts. You are more than your senses, your desires, and expressions - more than your feelings. You are more than philosophies and ideas - more than your beliefs. You are a combination of these and beyond them at the same time. You are a being having experiences, don’t limit yourself as to how you receive them. Explore them all!

From the Archives: January 5, 2018 A Time to Listen

A Time to Listen 

We are living in a challenging and powerful time. A bright light is being aimed at our shadows of racism, sexism, misogyny, xenophobia, prejudice, violence, and hate. These elements of our nature have always existed, though sometimes they have changed forms, sometimes hid from view, sometimes remained visible but ignored. Systemic, institutionalized oppressions are being identified and called out. Claims of injustice are beginning to be taken seriously. Evidence via phone cameras brings horrors that have always been experienced by some to the consciousness of the many. Groups are collecting, unifying to bring about change. What certainly may be an increase in hate and violence recently is coinciding with greater illumination of what has always been there.

The marginalized populations have always known. Women have always known the degree to which they experience harassment, assault, manipulations of power dynamics. People of color have always known that systems of racism were alive, well, and strong. Trans people have always been aware of the dangers they face when confronted with fear and ignorance. Oppressed people are gaining agency in spaces where they had little or none. Now, those of us that have never been affected personally are becoming aware. And now, we are faced with choices. We can continue to bury our heads in the sand, deny and fight the truth, or we can join this building wave, support the voices demanding justice and change, contribute our efforts to something important and right.

My two children are biracial. While I think of myself as someone who always believed in equality, a feminist and anti-racist, having children that are directly affected by racist ideologies and institutions has certainly made it personal - to a degree. My first son was born six years ago, and at the time I had an idealized view of interracial relationship, and the biracial offspring born of them. My immediate community was diverse and had been for years. I had minimal negative experiences related to my relationship, my friendships, my work, etc. Of the very few I had, I was able to package them up as isolated, fringe, and atypical. Discussions in my personal life or online that became racially charged were a place that I felt comfortable standing up, speaking out. I would passionately share what I believed and then move on with my life. 

As the Black Lives Matter movement gathered strength, and my boys got older, and a new president was elected, I found myself speaking out less and listening more. I began from a place of desire to identify, to myself and others, as non-racist, or anti-racist. It took a while to recognize how self-serving that desire was, and that it literally benefited no one but myself. I decided to only offer my voice when it would benefit the conversation, when it would positively contribute to the fight. In conversations where I used to know exactly what to say, I found myself at a loss for words. I don’t want to say the wrong thing, to offend, to appear ignorant, or arrogant. I felt helpless. And I think this is appropriate. This has been a part of my process. I gradually came to recognize that I, as a white female, will never, ever know what it is like to exist in our culture as a man, as a person of color, as a non-cisgendered person. I came to acknowledge when and where my voice is not needed, not beneficial, not helpful. As I found myself in spaces, both virtual and real, where important conversations were being had, instead of speaking, I learned to listen. 

I listened to the points of view of bigoted, ignorant, racist people. I listened and heard their beliefs, I learned of their pain, fear, anger. I learned what I shared with them, how I was like them. I listened and learned from the privileged, from the saviors and light workers. I learned that people don’t feel comfortable exploring and acknowledging their darkness - that of their culture and that of their soul. I listened and learned from POC. I came to recognize how little I knew, how little I understood, and how great was my own participation in and benefit from  systems of inequality and dynamics of power and marginalization. 

I am still immersed in this process, but through listening I am coming to acknowledge when my voice should stay silent. There are organizations and forums and conversations where the voices of POC are strengthening and getting louder and finally being heard. In these spaces, my voice is not needed, or wanted, or beneficial. There is nothing I can add to the conversation from my perspective, from my life experience, that produces anything beyond a salve to my own white guilt and sense of helplessness. In these spaces, I can offer myself as a soldier at their command, an additional hand set to a task. I can offer myself as a support to their work. 

There are places I have decided I can affect change, where my voice can be heard. It is in conversations with other white people. There are spaces where POC are not invited, where their voices are silenced. Those people that would not hear a black person, might hear me. A message that would be resisted if coming from a person of color, might seep through the barriers when spoken by me. When I am in a white dominated space and racism is present, my voice needs to be heard. For too long, we have been silent as our uncles tell inappropriate jokes, when we observe our boss passing up qualified employees because of their name, when a random comment by a stranger in line at the grocery store is said a little too loudly. These are the places we should be speaking. Our silence is complicity.

Each day that passes and my boys get older, I become more and more unsure of how to raise them in this world. I mentioned above that this issue has become a personal one only to a degree. I am limited in my understanding of what they will experience by my whiteness and my gender. I have no idea how they will experience the world as children born of such different truths as mine and their father’s. What I can do now is listen: To the world as new voices and truths rise to the forefront, and to my boys, as they begin to share their world with me. Their experiences will form their truth and will inform my reaction which will, in turn, influence their reality. I will make mistakes, I have already made so many. But if I listen, I may continue to learn something along the way.

A spiritual practice, like yoga, asks us to be present. To face our challenges, to sit in difficulty and just breathe. We aim to find steadiness and peace in our discomfort, pain, and ugliness. As you struggle to find your place in this time of change and activism, I ask you to take this method of self-study beyond the mat. Stay in moments of discomfort, pain, and ugliness. Don’t avoid the darkness, in fact, seek it out. Join Facebook groups that you wouldn’t otherwise be a part of. Go to community meetings. Go to social venues that stray outside of your usual. Have conversations with people different than you. Stay, breathe - and listen. As you absorb the truths of another’s experience, you will learn where you fit. You will learn how to apply your unique circumstances, perspective, skills, and talents to something important.

*This was first published on Omstars. com

From the Archives: November 11, 2017 A Serious Relationship

A Serious Relationship

        Yoga changes things. Have you noticed that? Once upon a time you decided to start taking yoga classes, fitting it in to your schedule when you had some time or when you felt like you needed to move. Maybe at first, it was very casual. You thought to yourself, hmmm I have some free time, I think I will take a yoga class. Or a group of friends were going and it sounded fun, so you joined in. Maybe you even dropped out at times, going months without taking class, but then you missed it and got online to look at schedules again, to see when your favorite teacher was teaching. Then, maybe you started to follow that teacher, taking as many of their classes as you could. Or maybe a certain style really felt good so you started looking for those classes. Then you found yourself creating a yoga schedule. Something like Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I do yoga at 6pm. Boom! Now you are committed. Now you are in a serious relationship….. with your yoga practice.

This is when you start to really notice the changes. You rearrange other aspects of your life for yoga. Sleeping schedules change because you want to be sure you can get up for that morning class, or because class totally wiped you out and you crash at like 9pm, or if you are really blessed, you get in that mid-day nap! Eating habits change. You start to notice how certain foods make your body feel or realize that eating heavily right before class is a bit uncomfortable, to say the least. You start to crave water! Incense and essential oils hold a whole new magic and you start to use them at home and at work. You chase them around the house to put oils on your kids or your partner. A three day a week practice schedule becomes a daily routine. You start getting up before the sun, eating dinner before dusk and talking about yoga all. the. time. And your friends and family start to think you are nuts!

Now this is the hard part. Our friends and family like us just they way we were. They liked that person that would go to a late movie with them, but the new you looks at the time and says “I can’t. I have yoga in the morning.” They miss that person that would join them for a greasy burger with a couple pints of beer, but now you ask them to join you at the new vegetarian or - gasp! - vegan restaurant. Your friends want to gossip about their co-worker and you tend to try to explain the other person’s perspective with compassion and an attempt at understanding. 

You are different. The yoga has made you more self-aware, more disciplined, more connected. And if you have changed, grown, etc, then the people around you also have to change to allow space for you. Their lives used to hold a square space for your peg to fit right into, but now you have become hexagonal, so their space has to adjust. This can be very uncomfortable for them. After all, they didn’t choose to practice yoga, they didn’t choose all of these changes. They don’t understand. Find compassion for them, most of them will adjust for you, in time. Some may not.

Especially with our closest relationships we can be tempted to accommodate them, to sacrifice the things that have become important to us. I have gone through many phases of changing my practice schedule to make things easier for my partner, sometimes struggling to get it in at all. Everyone has to discover for themselves how to navigate this rough terrain, and it often includes a lot of trial and error. 

The key, I have learned, is to never feel guilty for how your life choices may be affecting those around you. Those relationships are important to you, of course, and taking the needs of those you care about into consideration is a loving, generous, and essential part of a mutual relationship. But I want you to think of your yoga practice as another, very important relationship that requires cultivation, nurturing, love and care. Your yoga practice is probably the most important relationship you will ever have. It is your relationship with yourself. In the end, it is the development of that relationship that will make you a better partner, parent, child, friend, and co-worker. Like Ms. Houston said “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all!” 

From the Archives: August 5, 2017 My Story

My Story

Each of us has a story. Many of you have probably read my bio: the highlights of my journey to this yoga teacher platform I find myself on. But of course there is more to the story. I always say that at the time I was walking it, my path seemed like a confusing zig-zag of changing directions, dropped threads, and aimless wandering. In retrospect, I see a trajectory of purpose - a clearly projected direction, if not exactly a straight line. 

From little on, I remember that I experienced my world through the physical. I moved. I loved to move! My moods were expressed in movement, my humor, my interests. I absorbed information through physical interaction. Not necessarily an observer or a contemplator, I was a doer. This became more intentional, more structured, more purposeful when I began to study dance. Into adulthood and professional dance, including college studies, choreography, performance, I explored how movement expressed reality, spirituality, and individuality. Through dance, I became aware of commonalities of the human experience. We all have bodies! Our bodies can’t NOT express. Isn’t that amazing! Even the effort to take expression out of our form and movement expresses something to our souls. The human self is not neutral - it CAN’T be. It is the physical manifestation of life itself! 

As a dancer I used to say that I felt the most myself while I was dancing. All facade, all labels, all constructs fell away while moving freely from some inner space of knowing and inspiration. When I began to practice yoga asana, that exploration of self found method. A movement method intended for self-discovery! Amazing! What I was getting glimpses of while dancing was the whole purpose of this movement practice. A journey of the self, through the self, to the self. 

While first being introduced to yoga through dance (some teachers used it as warm up) it was a heart devastating break-up and a best friend that would not let me wallow in tears that brought me to an earnest yoga practice. We started with Bikram, sweating out the previous night’s chemical toxins and poisons of youthfully poor choices. But it was when she took me to my first Ashtanga practice that I heard the angels sing “Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!” I was home. I know that sounds dramatic but that is what it felt like. Like finally I found the thing my body and soul were searching for. The dynamics of Ashtanga spoke to the dancer in me. The structure and discipline spoke to the Capricorn in me. (Don’t get me wrong - discipline is haaaaaard for me, but I crave it! I thrive in it, when I can surrender to it) It wasn’t long until I knew without a doubt, that I wanted to teach - that I was supposed to teach. 

I did my teacher training with Paul Dallaghan in Thailand. It was intense! I remember after the first week or so, during a check-in meeting with him I said, through tears, that I didn’t think I could do it, that I wasn’t ready, that I was out of my league. He assured me that I could, that I was, and encouraged me to just keep going. I completed that course and didn’t realize until years later, when I first travelled to Mysore, India - the home and heart of the Ashtanga practice - how valuable that experience was. It was so strong and complete in establishing a solid foundation to a life-time practice. I returned from Thailand to Chicago where for four years I balanced waitressing, teaching, solo home practice of primary series (yes, I did only primary series for four years - there is no hurry!) and a partying lifestyle. I was in my 20’s - it was right, for me. 

As I approached 30, I took stock of my life and realized I was ready for more. More fulfillment, more depth, more work, more yoga, more self. So I quit my job, got rid of most of my stuff, put the rest in storage and went to India. I didn’t know where it would lead but I told myself “I will figure it out in India”. After my first practice, while standing outside the shala, floating on a cloud of post-practice awe, I met my future. 

During those 4 years of self-practice, two of my most significant teachers recommended that I practice with Kino MacGregor. They told me that my body type (flexy, not strong) would benefit from her instruction. Great! But she was a traveling teacher and I was not really a traveling student. But there I was in India, drinking a coconut, talking with a woman that I learned she was Kino when someone called her name. (This was pre-social media, I had no idea what she looked like) “You are Kino! I’m supposed to practice with you!” I blurted out. She told me she was opening a yoga shala in Miami Beach and invited me to attend a weekend workshop she would be teaching in a few months. By the time I left Mysore two months later, I had not only registered for the workshop, but had decided to move to Miami and convinced Kino to give me a chance as a teacher at Miami Life Center. I had figured it out.

Miami felt like a rebirth for me - a new life, certainly a new lifestyle. I realize it may sound funny, but I went to Miami Beach, a party mecca, and began a cleaner, more spiritual path. Kino became my teacher (beyond the relationship I had begun to form with Guruji, Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, and his grandson, Sharath, the current head of the lineage). Along with guidance from Tim Feldmann and Greg Nardi, my yoga found a new depth, my practice more sincere, more focused and transformation was available. The three of them were teachers and mentors to me for five years and also became my friends. I still consider Kino to be my primary teacher (aside from Sharath) and even though I no longer practice with her daily, she is still there for me to lean on, ask questions, seek guidance. I still too reach out to Tim and Greg - and they are there. While teaching at MLC I developed sincere friendships with other teachers, including Alexandra, Patrick, Emilia and others. There is a bond that is created when you share this journey, supporting each other as students, witnessing each other’s growth as teachers, sharing life moments like parenting. Miami Life Center will always feel like a home base for me. The teachers and students that come from there and are still there, I feel some unbreakable connection to. It is a part of my personal lineage, the line of Parumpara that I come from, and I am forever grateful for those experiences, those teachings, those relationships.

From the Archives: June 9, 2017 Mindfulness - Accessing the Self

Mindfulness - Accessing the Self

What does it mean to be mindful? It is a word we hear often in our yoga classes, but what does it mean in practice? The word itself is actually a bit misleading, containing the word “mind” it implies thinking. Thinking involves a dialogue, storytelling, even judgement. The thinking mind is a tricky beast. It is subject to habits, manipulation and deception. But true mindfulness is beyond thinking, it is simply awareness, observation, and acknowledgment without attaching value judgment or meaning. If we can settle into our awareness as witness we can more honestly connect to our experiences and ourselves.

In yogic philosophy the citta (or what we in the west think of as the mind) is divided into three components: manas, the mind; buddhi, the intellect; and ahamkara, the ego. Manas is the reactive mind that is subject to the variations of the vrittis, those tendencies based on patterned habits, or samskara. It will impose beliefs onto the input it receives from the senses, trying to organize it into a framework it understands and that supports its understanding of reality - or at least the reality that it is currently attached to. It reacts in three common ways, based on attraction, aversion and indifference. It lives on desires and often compels you toward the negative. For example, it is the mamas, mind, that will tell you “My arms are not long enough to do this pose” or “I’m too old to do this” or “I’m not smart enough for…..” 

In a mindfulness practice, we are aiming to avoid this reactive mind. We are aiming to allow the input to come without attaching meaning to it. For example, when a bind in a marichyasana pose is not coming, we allow the information “I am not binding” rather than the judgment “My arms are too short”. Then we try to take our observations further: “What am I feeling in my shoulder? Am I accessing forward fold? or twist?” etc to lead us further into honest observation of our experiences. As we gather information, a new picture, a new reality begins to emerge, one we avoid reacting to and instead allow the buddhi, the intellect, to assess. Intellectual understanding is gained by experience. It must be practiced and then it becomes a part of your personality. Intellectual observation keeps aiming further inward, inward, inward towards the ultimate reality. So what is that? Good question! Keep searching!

Perhaps surprisingly, pain is a means to direct us toward a mindful practice. It provides a point of focus to direct our observation and awareness inward, beyond the senses. Our five senses keep our focus on the world outside of ourselves, the environment that provides scents, sounds, sights etc. Pain takes our attention to the experiences within our own bodies, to our muscles, joints, etc. When the body is giving us feedback that we want to immediately label “pain” we are paying attention to the information. If we can avoid the manas, mind - avoid reaction, avoid judgment, labeling and storytelling - we can sit in witness to our experience and begin to ask questions. We can access the buddhi, intellect. This leads to understanding that becomes our new reality. 

Another way into mindfulness is the breath. Like pain, the breath directs our awareness from the world outside of ourselves to the world within. The breath is something that happens naturally, without thought. But it is also something that we can take conscious control over and move and direct as we choose. As we focus on managing and directing the breath we dive into ourselves, into our nervous system. As we slow and steady the breath, our manas calms and quiets, the reactions are slowed, our emotional reactions are intercepted with observational awareness. We are given space to accept information from ourselves, even observe the reactionary mind from the perspective of the intellect! One aspect of the mind observing the other! It’s fascinating!

With practice, mindfulness becomes our way of being. We sit in witness to our experiences, allowing information to gather without reacting from a place of judgment, without needing to fit everything into our current reality. We allow our reality to change based on the honesty of our experiences. We go deeper and deeper inward, as neutral observer, eventually integrating with the true nature of the self.

From the Archives: June 3, 2017 Time

Time

Tick-Tock.  The sound of a clock marking the passage of time.  In our culture we schedule our days according to the hours and plot our lives along the pages of a calendar.  Even within the yoga practice when we are asked to “Be Present!” and focus on the right here right now, we are aware of time. Counting our breathes we see another student moving effortlessly through some incredible posture.  We wonder how long it will be until we are capable of that.  Or maybe we fear that we are already too old and don't have enough time to develop those postures.  In this world where everything is moving so quickly, give yourself the gift of slowing down.  At least in yoga, don’t hurry!

Rather than looking at this practice only as some track that progresses forward in time like a two hour class or a six day a week practice, realize that there is also a path that moves inward, spiraling into depths of the NOW space.  When you choose to slow down or perhaps by injury or some physical resistance you are forced to, you have the opportunity to explore your practice on new levels. It is easy to become attracted to the forward progression of a yoga practice when flying through a vinyasa sequence one pose to the next or trying to accomplish some difficult bind.  It is natural.  We want to be able to do it all and we rush our bodies towards it.  Inspiration is an essential element of the yoga practice but what is the hurry?  Most often we are looking for some way to measure our progress.  We are looking at how long it takes to become adept at a challenging pose or how long we can remain in that posture, at the same time already thinking about what comes next.  In looking forward to what is currently beyond our reach we miss the potentials available in exploring the depths of the moment we are currently in.  

When we first discover a yoga posture we learn how to place the physical body.  This leg goes here, the arm over there and I look this way, etc.  As we settle into that form the attention moves to the subtler layers of muscular awareness.  We learn where we can release and what needs to remain active, where we lengthen and where we draw in.  Layer by layer we dig deeper beyond the physical sensations toward the energetic ones.  We become aware of prana, life force energy moving through the channels we have opened by placing our body in this certain way.  This energetic experience is a yoga that we would miss if we were rushing through.

Each of us has our own internal rhythm and tempo.  We are drawn to different methods of yoga sometimes based on this internal timing and how it urges us to move our bodies.  While still honoring your own personal clock, try to find a drawing out of each present moment.  The breath not only moves you forward but every inhale draws you inward.  If you find yourself speeding through your sun salutes, lengthen the breath and slow down.  Experience each moment as you move through it.  Allow yourself to really be in your chaturanga dandasana. Feel that exhale spreading out and expanding time so that you can have the space to explore the depths of that experience before moving through into upward facing dog.  Like controlling a movie with the remote control, putting it into slow motion so that you can see every element of a scene, the actors expressions as well as the background details.  Bring that element of discovery to each breath and see every aspect of what is happening to your body, your mind and the sensations of how energy is moving through you.  Rather than just hitting the main markers along the road, fill out the scenery and see everything.  

As you explore the yoga practice as a landscape you will find less urge to rush forward.  The forward will reveal itself to you along its own time line, learning new postures and progressing organically.  You will be less focused ahead of you as you will become present in the richness of the moment.  When you discover this depth available in the yoga practice you can realize that it is present out there as well, in the world beyond the mat.  In your jobs or relationships, wherever you give your attention and energy, slow down, fill out the scenery, look at the details and explore its textures.  The future will come, that is an inevitability.  Extend your breath and experience the depth of time as well as its length.

From the Archives: April 23, 1017 Pain

Pain

Am I really going to write about this? This controversial, slippery, nuanced topic…. Yes. Yes, I am. There are so many routes of discussion on this topic, but I will attempt to stay in the neighborhood of one. In the yoga practice, pain comes. It does. A completely painless lifetime of practice is unrealistic to say the least. Pain is a dialect in the language of the body in it’s effort to communicate with the mind. 

What I want to focus on here and now is navigating your practice while experiencing pain. To get on your mat or not to get on your mat - that is the question.  

As a student I was taught to do the practice no matter what. Don’t rest. Don’t avoid postures. Practice through the pain. Yes, I practice Ashtanga and I am aware of the reputation that can follow the Ashtanga method due to this very topic. But the idea of practicing through pain has been widely misunderstood by students and almost as widely misrepresented by instructors. Ashtanga does not ask you to ignore the pain you are receiving and shove your body into the most contorted version of the asana you can. This is dangerous and completely antithetical to what a yoga practice should be. What it does do is ask that you steadily meet yourself on your mat, day after day, through every fluctuation, transition, and evolution. As your body shifts from feeling amazing to feeling horrible, visit with it. Get to know its mood swings, attitudes, and beliefs. As a teacher, I urge my students to come to class if they are feeling pain, even and especially if it is a sensation that they would like to label “injury”. Sometimes there is a legitimate injury - often this is obvious immediately, due to intensity, type of sensation, inability to move, etc. Sometimes it takes exploring what is possible to be able to identify what is not. 

Practicing through the pain is a means of investigation, a way to develop inner awareness and build skills. We get on our mat, visiting the familiar postures, with a deeper level of mindfulness. When the mind/body communications system is active, via the nervous system, with messages of pain, we can use the sensations to guide our approach, our methodology, alignment, muscular effort, breath, mental patterns and emotional reactions. When that sensation of pain arises, we can pause, breath, make small adjustments to change the sensation. Less pain now? Has it shifted to tension rather than pain? Soreness now? Completely gone? Ok, now we have experienced that in this position, if I make this adjustment, I have less pain. Perhaps that means that this is the appropriate alignment, approach, etc. Perhaps it is a matter of recognizing where your true stopping point is, what the honest expression of the pose is for you in this moment. (Don’t let what you want to do take over for what you can do.) Now you have learned something! If you continue in this way, day after day, you learn more and more details about the correct method of achieving the movement you want with less or no pain. Eventually the injury heals, or the strengthening processes, or the transformation is complete and in the meantime you have developed a new movement pattern, new strengths, and new inner awareness. 

If, on the other hand, a pain arises in the body and you take that as a signal to rest, stay off your mat for a few days, etc. Pretty soon, if it is not an actual injury, the pain will subside and disappear. You will feel better, ready to get on your mat. After the first day, or week, the pain will return. Why? Because you are practicing in the same way, with the same patterns, same alignments as before - the same way that caused the pain in the first place. You gave your body rest, enough time for the communications system to go offline, but you didn’t learn anything new. Nothing changed. This cycle will continue to repeat until either you decide to give up the practice, or you really really hurt yourself, or you finally decide to get back on your mat, even when it hurts and figure out how to do the work in a way that hurts less. 

On the flip side of avoiding pain is ignoring pain. With both tendencies, release your urge to self-judge. Sometimes, it is true, you get on your mat and realize that there is very little asana possible with the sensation you are experiencing, and making adjustments to approach and alignment have very little effect. If you tend to over-do it, push too hard when your body is experiencing a shift, opening, or strengthening, it is important to recognize it, check yourself, and choose rest. It is ok to rest. Rest is also a part of practice. The longer you practice and investigate the sensations that arise, the feedback from your body, the easier it is to identify the situations where practice is most beneficial and also those times where rest is required. You are learning the language of your body. Remember, you don’t know what you don’t know and learning doesn’t happen when you stay in bed.

From the Archives: March 5, 2017 Tradition, Lineage, Parampara

Tradition, Lineage, Parampara

All yoga practices derive from some sort of tradition. Some are more on the innovation end of the spectrum, but most can be linked to only a few original lineages. I won’t get in to specific lines of teaching but would like to explore the tradition of parampara in yoga and what it means to us as students and teachers of a yoga method. Parampara is a Sanskrit word that denotes the principle of transmitting knowledge directly from teacher to student in direct, unbroken succession. A student chooses their teacher, surrenders and commits their path of learning to that instruction. The teacher in turn commits to their student, pledging a lifetime of guidance and offering everything they know to that student. It is a sacred relationship. 

When talking to new yoga students I have always stressed the value of trying as many different methods and teachers as they can access. There is a yoga for everyone but not every type of yoga is for you. Not every teacher is your teacher. When you come upon the practice and the teacher that is right for you, you will know. You will somehow feel immediate benefit, you will feel immediate connection, and you will feel challenged in new ways. 

Before finding my own path, I dabbled in several different styles, jumped from one teacher to the next. I connected to a method for a few years before finding my primary teacher. While I could not have articulated it at the time, looking back, I know what determined for me that Kino MacGregor was my teacher.   Simply, she knew what I was capable of before I had any idea. She believed in me and I believed in her. While I don’t have the opportunity to practice with her regularly these days, I still feel that I can reach out to her and she is there for me. I have had other teachers that have provided incredible value to my practice and my life, but I will always consider her my primary teacher. 

When I finally ventured to India and the home of the Ashtanga Yoga lineage, home of Kino’s teacher and my other teachers’ teacher, I became fully committed to the Guru, Sri K. Pattabhi Jois. He became my Teacher - capital “T”. And since his passing, my practice is devoted to his grandson, R. Sharath Jois. My teaching is a reflection, a continuation of knowledge transferred from Kino, Guruji (Sri K. Pattabhi Jois) and Sharathji (affectionately - The Boss). Kino’s teaching is a direct continuation of what she learned over many years as a committed student of Guruji’s and now Sharath’s. Sharath was devoted to Guruji and Guruji was devoted to his teacher, Tirumalai Krishnamacharya and so on… and so on….  back and back. 

There are practical benefits to practicing within a lineage. The information gained by practice can continuously be built upon. Someone who has been practicing and teaching a particular method for many years has gained a lot of information about what works, what doesn’t; what benefits, what does harm; what damages, what heals. Then this information is passed on, the next student or teacher adds to it the information gained by their own practice and teaching. Each student has the benefit of all of those years of experience, not just of their teacher, but of their teacher’s teacher, and their teacher’s teacher’s teacher. Knowledge is compounded, wisdom deepens and expands.

Most of the benefit of practicing within a parampara tradition and committing yourself to one teacher is philosophical or spiritual in nature. When we find our teacher, we are able to surrender. This is a difficult concept for many in western culture. We are taught to question authority, or to be our own authority. This also has value and can remain a part of your approach to your yoga practice, but how do you know what you do not know? Choose your teachers wisely. It is important to do the practical research of their training and teaching experience. You want to be able to trust that they have knowledge and experience that you yourself do not have. Then there is the element of a connection you are looking for. If you find a teacher you can surrender to, that is Ishvara Pranidhana of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. Do the work as your teacher instructs, without attachment to the outcome or the fruits of your action. Do not seek the results, but allow them. Trust. I’ll say it again - Trust. 

In a parampara relationship, the teacher not only transmits information but also the energetic spark of illumination. The same blessing that traveled the line of the lineage is transferred to you. It is this spark that lights the fire of true inner transformation, that lights the way to truth and enlightenment. If it sounds dramatic, that is my intention. There is nothing frivolous about a yoga practice. It’s primary intention is liberation. Don’t choose a teacher or method that promises to give you enlightenment. A teacher cannot promise that. Choose a teacher and method that offers to shine a light on the path that you yourself must travel on, rough roads and all. 

From the Archives: February 5, 2017 On the Self

On the Self:

Close your eyes. Tune in to the breath. The breath draws awareness and attention that is directed outside of the self, to our inner spaces. As you inhale bring awareness into the body. Acknowledge any aches or pains, tightness, resistance, soreness, fatigue. Without judgment, observe how the body is feeling today. Then realize that if you can observe the sensations of the body then you are not that. You are not the body. Allow the inhale to draw your awareness deeper, into the movements of the mind. It is the nature of the mind to move, to jump around, to present one thought, then another, then another. Do not hate the mind, this is its nature. Do not fight it. Imagine the mind like the screen at the beginning of Star Wars movies, expansive space. And thoughts are the words that appear on the screen, big at first, but gradually fading into the background. Allow the screen to move into the darkness of space. Don’t attach to any thought. It comes. And it goes. Your awareness remains on the breath. And then realize that if you can sit in witness to the movements of the mind then you are not that. You are not the mind. You are something beyond the mind, observing. Deeper now, with the breath, becoming aware of your emotional state, your mood. Acknowledge what is sitting in your heart space. Without judgement, without needing to tell a story about it, acknowledge it, name it. If you can observe your emotions then you are not them. You are not your emotions. You are something beyond them. The you that is witness is beyond body, beyond mind, beyond emotions and is unaffected by the fluctuations there. The you that is witness sits in a steady peace, unaffected by fluctuations in environment, sensations in the body, thoughts, emotions, everything. This is the self that yoga aims to guide you to. This self - the atman - the purest form of your divine nature, is the destination of the path that is your practice.

So how does an asana practice bring us there - to that peaceful steady contentment? The postures we perform on the mat have many purposes including building strength and flexibility in the body, cleansing the internal organs and nervous system, revealing our deeply ingrained patterns of behavior and thought so we can make discriminate choices and change, and clearing away debris in our self-perception to expose our true nature. Sounds kinda mystical, doesn’t it? It’s actually quite simple, even happens without our trying. But like many things of value, it takes time and consistency to develop. 

Each time we put ourselves into a posture, our tendencies arise. If it is a posture we are good at or enjoy, we are pleased with ourselves. We want to do it again. We want others to see us doing it. We develop a story about the pose, and maybe an attachment. When we are faced with a pose we dislike, find difficult or even - gasp! painful! - we tell a different story, one perhaps about how our arms are too long, or that old injury from high school is making it impossible. We try to sneak out of the pose early, dread it coming up again next class and grumble our way through each time it does. Then there are poses that really challenge us, they bring us to our darkness and our fear, make us angry or sad, display loudly our harmful inner voice. Poses can make us hate our practice, hate our teacher, question why the heck are we doing this when we could be having a glass of wine with friends right now. The yoga brings all of this to you on your mat and asks you to stay. Find equanimity. No one will applaud you. You cannot escape. You will have to do it again. Just stay in this pose breathing steadily. Notice your thoughts, notice your patterns, just stay and breath. Stay here in this pose you love with the same state of mind as you do in the pose you hate. Look at the anger that arises. Do you need it? Is it benefiting you? Can you let it pass through you and move on? Can you be angry and still be in the pose, breathing steadily? That is yoga. Anger will come, sadness will come, fear definitely will come, many thoughts, stories, beliefs will come. Can you observe them, assess them, let them move through you without judgement, without attachment? Each time, they will have less power. They will always arise but they will not control you. Each intense moment on the mat develops an inner strength, builds the throne upon which that inner witness sits, comfortable and at peace. While you sweat and strain and agonize on the mat, the witness observes and gains strength. When you find yourself challenged off the mat, that space is still available. The space of the true self is calm steadiness, giving space before reaction, space to stay and breath, to notice sensation, thought and emotion. Your yoga asana practice cultivates the space to get past impulsive reaction based on sensory input and patterns. You can respond with awareness from a place of calm assessment and choice about what is the most benefit to you and those around you. If you can find steadiness of mind will balancing on one leg, the other leg thrown around behind your head, gaze directed towards infinity, a smile on your face, you can do anything. 

From the Archives: November 3, 2016 Doubt and Commitment

Doubt and Commitment on the Ashtanga Mysore Path

We have recently completed our first month of the Ashtanga Mysore program at Yoga Path Palm Beach! Did you make it in this month? How’s your practice going? The first month of Ashtanga Mysore self-practice method is a challenging, exhilarating, shifting, humbling, revealing, and often confusing battle against our desire to just stay in bed. It bonks up against your routines, patterns and comfort zones - shoving at your samskaras. If you made it this far into the discipline, you may be facing a series of doubts. Is this really my practice? Do I really want to commit to this approach? Am I benefiting? Am I enjoying my yoga practice? Am I really going to be an Ashtangi for the rest. of. my. life? You are not alone. If you continue with the practice, these doubts will arise again and again - this is a good thing! From personal experiences in my own practice and as an instructor, observing the journey that so many students have traveled, I have found there to be certain time markers that ask us to reinvestigate our intentions, motivations, and commitment. That one month point is the first. This is one of the reasons that many shalas require a one month commitment to begin the practice. One month of committed practice will give you a solid understanding of the process and you will begin to experience what is possible, you will also get a glimpse of the obstacles and resistances you face. It will either look like something you are just not interested in or it will look like a mountain you are eager to climb. I have seen this questioning phase come up again around either three or six months, and then also at one year. Beyond that, it depends on the practitioner, but it does arise, again and again. A re-examining is essential. I don’t know who first said it, but I have heard a saying “anyone can do ashtanga, but it’s not for everyone.” A sort of deviation of the Guruji (Sri. K. Pattabhi Jois) quote “anyone can do yoga, except lazy person” The truth is that anyone is capable of doing this practice, but not everyone chooses to. Ashtanga asks a lot of you, the student. It asks for your discipline and commitment, your surrender to process, your trust in a teacher, your humility and willingness to learn. What does that word mean - “commitment”? It is not a choice you make once and it is done. In your yoga practice just as in any relationship, commitment is a constant evaluating - Is this good for me? Is it right for me? Has something changed from when I first chose this path? If you examine your doubts and seek to answer your inner questions and still come to the conclusion that: Yes! You want to continue this journey, then your relationship to your practice deepens, your motivations strengthen, discipline comes more easily, and you are again inspired. If you decide this practice is not working for you, move on, no biggie - you can always come back (wink wink) I sincerely believe that there is a yoga for everyone and it is up to the student to discover it. The student seeks the teacher/practice - not the other way around. I also happen to sincerely believe in the transformative power of this approach! So if the time is right, and this is your practice you will know it. As hard as it is, as scary as it is, as exhausting as it is - you will overcome your doubts and you will again set your alarm for 5:30am. You will drink your coffee in the dark, join the rest of the zombies breathing into the silence. You will sweat and cry and finally find your hands in marichyasana d or finally come up to stand from back bend, or finally land your karandavasana, or you will do none of those and still feel pretty damn amazing, though not sure why. You will be relieved when you lie down into final rest and you will do it all again tomorrow. The self-practice method will ask a lot from you but it will provide so much in return, if you are willing to stay. Stay. Stay with the breath. Stay in the process. Stay on the path.

From the Archives: April 9, 2016 Parenting and the Search for Unicorns

Parenting and the Search for Unicorns

Yoga is hard work. Parenting is hard work. Maintaining a yoga practice while trying to apply yogic principles to parenting is like . . . building a bridge to Neverland in search of a unicorn. Or is it? One of the primary principles of yoga is the cultivation of non-attachment. Practicing non-attachment can be very helpful in approaching your yoga practice while caring for small children.

Before we can really understand what non-attachment is we need to first distinctly remove the idea of what it is not - aversion. Non-attachment does not mean avoidance. It does not mean staying away from those things you are tempted to attach to. Non-attachment is allowing anything and everything without identifying the self with its presence. It is doing the work required of you without expectation of the results of that effort.

In yoga asana practice, the concept of non-attachment becomes tangible and workable. We do our forward folds every practice, without the expectation that today we will touch our toes, or bring our nose to our knees. We simply fold forward, day after day with intention and allow the body to respond. It would be nice if we flattened our bodies against our legs but until then, we continue to fold forward, as far as we can, day after day. Of course we want it, the wanting is part of the motivation but whether we get to that ultimate end or not does not affect the daily work of folding forward and does not affect the way we identify ourselves. Are you “a forward folder” or “not a forward folder”? Neither. You are a person, a divine light, who happens to be doing the work of forward folding.

Pregnancy and parenthood taught me a lot about releasing my expectations. When I first became pregnant I thought I would be one of those preggy ladies doing amazing advanced poses into my ninth month, huge belly and all. Turned out to not be the case, at all. Labor and delivery also were far from what I expected. I thought: “Hey i do yoga, I meditate, do breath work. This labor thing is going to be a breeze.” 49 hours later, my expectations were completely shattered. Returning to my mat postpartum I was reminded, over and over again, to let go of what I thought was supposed to be happening and simply exist in the now of what WAS happening. It was, and remains, a challenging lesson to integrate. Now two years past the birth of my second child, with two preschool children at home, I focus on the effort, commitment, strength, and discipline it takes to simply get on my mat consistently. I set intentions for my practice but in the end I allow it to manifest as it does. I have come to accept and trust that the time will come, not too far from now, that I will be able to give more of my mental capacities, physical efforts and consecutive minutes to time on my mat. I accept that at this time, it is not so important to work my deepest leg behind head poses, or my deepest backbend etc. The importance of my practice right now is that it provide me with time alone, time to go in, time for nurturing and strengthening and time for self-attention. 

While dreaming of being a parent someday I always imagined this little Buddha baby, the epitome of peace and love. The child would manifest all of the yogic principles I have spent so much time working on in myself. How could they not bloom in the life I created? We are never the parents that we think we would be. There is nothing anyone can do, think, or say to be prepared for parenthood. You simply have no idea until you are neck deep in it. Sri K Pattabhi Jois, the long-time head of the Ashtanga lineage, which has six series of asana sequences that get progressively harder, was known to have referred to parenting as seventh series yoga - because it is hard, like really really hard. It is easy to approach life with yogic principles when all you have to worry about is yourself. It is easy to do a two hour yoga practice every day if you only have your own schedule to be concerned about. It is easy to remain steady and focused on your practice when it is one thing on a short list of priorities. The real yoga happens when you add in the challenges of children, a partner, etc. Now, with all of these obstacles, do your yoga. Now find inner peace. The challenge is the point. And like that forward fold, we don’t stop trying because it is hard. We do the work, day after day without attachment to the results of that work. We get on our mats, we breath in and breath out, we focus our attention inward, we cultivate the inner strength required to face our kids with love (for them as well as for ourselves). We remain mindful of our intentions to guide them and hopefully teach them something about being loving, peaceful beings in this world. It would be nice if they would become shining examples of divine light in physical form, little unicorns. It would be nice, but until then, do your best. Do the work, on and off your mat, build the bridge.

From the Archives: April 9, 2016 Self-abandonment and High Vigilance

Self-abandonment and High Vigilance




I recently read a couple of bloggy articles that are giving me greater insight into my own personal experiences with motherhood. Becoming a mother has completely changed me, changed my perception of myself, changed my interactions (or lack thereof) with others… I am currently a different person than I ever knew myself to be. Evidently, when you become a mother your brain literally reprograms itself, through hormonal changes as well as the draining of nutrients during pregnancy (the baby steals an average of 5% of mommy’s brain via the placenta) Hormones also work to establish a bonding connection between mommy and baby. A connection is made even on a cellular level - mommy carries baby dna, acquired via the placenta, in her body for the rest of her life. We begin during those 9 months of gestation to shift priorities, to shed attachment to our wants and needs for the sake of our little unborns. We stop eating certain things and doing certain activities. We surrender the functions of our bodies to the needs within our wombs. It is pretty wild! Regardless of your style of parenting, once born, baby is very dependent solely on mommy during those first weeks, even months, especially if breastfeeding is involved. Mommy learns the nuances of every sound, every expression, every wiggle and giggle. Mommy can identify from another room, without looking at baby, that she is cold or that he needs his teddy bear. Mommy’s every sense is open, reaching, raw nerve sensitive to baby’s needs, even while sleeping, even while away from home. Do I think that Daddy’s also develop this level of sensitivity, hyper-vigilance as named in one article? No, no I do not. It is hormonal, physiological, initiated by pregnancy. So while Daddy’s might have their own version of attention I don’t think it can go to the depths that Mommy’s can experience. As babies become independently mobile a new level of vigilance is required. They can get into everything, and are especially drawn to the stuff you didn’t think to baby proof, or wouldn’t know how to baby proof if you had thought of it. Every time I turn around it seems I saving one from falling or grabbing something dangerous or doing something naughty to the other or destructive to the house or all of these combined- it is exhausting. It is a constant anxiety, fight or flight readiness. I have become incredibly impulsive in my responses, and irrationally emotional. I have a hard time focusing on conversations with my partner because the majority of my brain power if occupied with listening, looking, sensing what the boys might be up to. The slightest sound wakes me from sleep. I can be forgetful, wired, anxious, drained, guilty, isolated, frustrated, detached, and numb all at once. With all of this focus on the kids, mothers tend to abandon their own needs, wishes, and passions. I only recently came to the painful realization that I don't matter in my own life, not even to myself. While I wasn’t taking responsibility for my own happiness and well being, I shifted expectation of that fulfillment to my partner and then even to my sons. Realizing that I was putting that burden on them was a moment of clarity and a shift happened in my perspective. I have to treat myself like I matter and doing so does not mean I am neglecting my responsibilities to my family, it does not mean I am withdrawing attention, love, care from them. I means I am including myself in that picture, I am acknowledging that I too am deserving of attention, love, and care and that I am going to choose it. That is only one piece of this puzzle, though it is a big one. I am beginning to explore how the yoga practice affects specifically these aspects of high-vigilance, constant anxiety, impulsive responsiveness, etc etc etc

From the Arcives: July 19, 2016 What is Ashtanga?

What is Ashtanga? 

Have you ever practiced Ashtanga Yoga? No? Have you ever practiced vinyasa, flow, or power? These methods are all very closely related. What exactly is the relationship among these yoga asana modalities? Let’s take a look … but to do so we have to go back, way back, back in time and to a place called India. Heard of it? 

In 1888 a man named Sri T. Krishnamacharya was born. Read more about him on krishnamacharya.net We now refer to him as the father of modern yoga and he was responsible for the revival of yoga asana practice as we know it today. Legend tells that he learned the method from ancient papyrus scrolls of unknown age provided by his teacher, Ramamohan Brahmachari, in a cave in the Himalayas. Intriguing, isn’t it? The method he taught was Vinyasa Yoga. Vinyasa refers to the interconnection of breath and movement and dynamic sequencing where each asana or posture is linked by specific transitions, creating a constant flow where from the first breath and movement to the last there is steadiness and continuity, allowing for elements of moving meditation and pranayama practice. It was a method of therapy and healing and a way to integrate the physical body into spiritual practices of the modern (at that time) yogi. His many students spread out into the world teaching methods based on their personal experiences as students and as teachers. We won’t go into all of those divergent methods - that’s a topic for a much longer article - but I will drop some names right here: B.K.S. Iyengar, Sri Desikachar, Indra Devi (a woman!), B.N.S. Iyengar, and Sri K. Pattabhi Jois. 

Sri K. Pattabhi Jois took over Krishnamacharya’s teachings in Mysore, India when the master moved away (and continued to teach, by the way). The method that Jois inherited from his teacher and then further developed came to be known as Ashtanga Yoga. Ashtanga is set sequences of postures, the same poses done in the same order, every time. The organization is progressive so that each asana prepares the body, nervous system, mind, and personality for what follows. It is very structured and intentional and has been practiced very much the same way - with some changes dictated by experience and time and thousands of students - since the early 20th century. So, like … a hundred years or so. Ashtanga is traditionally practiced in the Mysore method (named after the city in India that is the heart and home of the lineage). Mysore is a self-practice approach in which each student moves through the Ashtanga sequence as they have been taught, in their own time, to their own breath. The teacher is available to provide guidance, instruct, and introduce new postures as is appropriate for each student’s individual journey.

It is only since the 1970’s and 80’s that Ashtanga began to spread in the west and specifically America. In the 90’s, some students of Ashtanga began to imagine other approaches to yoga asana and the Vinyasa method. Particularly they wanted to alter the sequencing, be more creative and free from the structure that was Ashtanga. These new methods came to be known by the more general term Vinyasa as they maintained the dynamic linking nature of movement, and focus on breath, but could not be called Ashtanga as they did not maintain the set sequence. The term “Vinyasa” became westernized into “Flow” meaning basically the same thing in a non-sanskrit kinda way. Other students of Ashtanga focused on the dynamic, athleticism of the Ashtanga practice and chose to organize their sequences in a way that prioritized power and endurance, hence “Power” yoga was born. Others blended what they knew from Ashtanga with other lineages entirely, like Sivananda (again, a topic for another time) which is how Jivamukti was born, among others. 

Even today students of the “traditional” methods, those with a strong lineage and tradition of parampara (receiving transference of knowledge directly from a master teacher), are creating their own approach to this ancient practice of self discovery and transformation. At its purest, yoga is a spiritual practice that leads us to awareness and experience of our true nature as divine beings. But whatever your reason for choosing to get on your mat, yoga has benefit for that as well. And whether you choose power, flow, Vinyasa, Iyengar, or Ashtanga, you can offer thanks to the father, Krishnamacharya.