Good Bye Miami Life Center

  

I am writing this with less than a month remaining to my time living and teaching yoga in Miami Beach.  The past five years have been momentous for me as a student of yoga and as a teacher, not to mention the dramatic changes to my home and family recently.  It still seems surreal to be leaving a place that has meant so much to me, but the time has come and I am going. 

For those that may not know my story, I met Kino in India.  I had known her name from previous teachers that suggested I practice with her.  When we met in India, I learned she was opening a shala in Miami and by the time I returned to the states I had decided to move to Miami Beach and was accepted as a teacher at Miami Life Center.  The change happened at a time in my life that I was ready for the next phase to present itself.  I was in Chicago feeling as though there was something more for me, more than I was finding there.  So I packed my life into storage and went to India, thinking, “I will figure it out in India.”  After four years without a regular teacher, I was ready for that constant presence in my practice.  I was ready to be challenged.  I was ready to make a lifestyle shift and to make my yoga my priority.

Miami Life Center has a magic within its walls that nearly everyone feels when they walk through the door.  It is the energy of transformation.  Things seem possible here.  And one feels supported, cared for in their journey.  Kino, Tim and Greg began this place with a shared intention that has become infused in the rooms.  Every teacher that has joined the community, every student that has passed through, have added their prana to the space, and it is tangible.  It is different than any other place I have taught and it is what makes Miami Life Center special and amazing!

Kino, aside from Guruji and Sharath, I consider you to be my teacher, but over the past five years you have become so much more to me.  With you as my teacher, my yoga practice has grown, deepened and progressed further than I expected it to in this life.  Third series was something that five years ago I wouldn’t even allow myself to imagine, and now I am here and what was once impossible is possible.  You seem to understand how I learn, what my body needs and how my mind understands.  Effortlessly, you have encouraged me to work harder than I think I can.  You get more out of me on the mat than anyone I have ever worked with, and this is how I know you are my teacher – you believe in me. 

Also, as a teacher, you believe in me.  You have this amazing ability to connect to a vision and trust it completely.  I have seen you do it with many others and I know you have done it with me.  Hardly knowing me you allowed me to join the group at Miami Life Center.  You gave me a chance as a teacher and then supported my growth from day one until the present, and I feel you will continue to do so even after I leave.  My understanding of this practice and how to share it with students has been refined under your mentorship.  You remind me to work from a place of compassion and to believe in the transformative power of Ashtanga yoga.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Tim and Greg, you also became mentors to me these past five years.  I have learned so much from both of you that will stay with me as a student of yoga and as a teacher for the eternity of my experiences with yoga.  You welcomed me and opened yourselves to me, sharing your personal talents and knowledge.  Greg, I value your understanding of yogic philosophy and your ability to draw philosophical concepts into the asana practice.  I cherish the conversations we have had over the years and  I will always hear your voice chanting the sutras in my head.  Tim, your enthusiasm and understanding of the intricacies of the human body’s potential is astounding.  With your fingertip you could completely change my alignment and connection to subtle movements of energy within a posture.  And I admire and aspire to your degree of commitment to the tradition and lineage that is Ashtanga yoga.  I aim to integrate a little of each of you in how I approach this practice, thank you for sharing your yoga with me

The teaching community at MLC is as special as the directors.   You are all amazing teachers with incredible yoga to share.  What I value the most about teaching with you all is the sense of cooperation, support and friendliness I have felt.  I feel that all of you are my friends and that we wish the absolute best for each other, without the sense of competition that can sometimes happen.  We are a family and it is this mingling support and respect for each that that can be felt by the students and helps them to feel supported in their personal journey as they move form one class to another, sometimes changing teachers.  Thank you for your support and respect these years.

And finally, thank you to all of the students I have worked with during my time in Miami Beach.  You have taught me as much as my teachers have.  Thank you for opening your hearts, minds and lives to me.  Thank you for letting me in and letting me have an affect on you.  Thank you for trusting me and allowing me to guide you.  Thank you for sharing your stories and giving me a view of your transformations.  I have watched so many of you accomplish amazing change and experience profound awakenings.  It is watching all of you discover and explore your own yoga paths that keeps me inspired and reminds me over and over again why I became a teacher.  Thank you. 

Of course I will be back.  Kino will always be my teacher.  MLC will always be a home for me.  Kino and I are already discussing future workshops so keep your eyes open for me to return and please visit me at Shanti Yoga Shala if you are ever in Philly.  Keep practicing, see you soon.

Yoga in the FOURTH trimester - getting back to the mat after baby

Coming back to yoga after giving birth has been a coming home, a returning to myself, and an essential element of maintaining a sense of stability in the past three months of adjustment, integration, and unpredictability with the new baby.  During the pregnancy, I told myself not expect my old practice to return easily.  I gave myself a year to get my practice back and my body back.   Now at the three month mark, I am feeling pretty darn good on both accounts.  I began to move on my mat only 2 1/2 weeks after giving birth.  I wasn't necessarily in a hurry, I just really wanted to feel my body move again, and I needed something that was mine while dealing with the emotional roller coaster of baby delivery and subsequent mommyness.  I wanted to feel that freedom, and it was great!  I took it slowly.  I took a week to build up to sun salutations and added only two postures every practice until I completed primary series, etc.  But looking back, I should have just chilled.  I was definitely not completely healed.  I was still feeling soreness all over, my insides felt like they were in all the wrong places.  I had horendous wrist issues carried over from pregnancy and worsened with new baby lifting / holding duties.  And no matter how hard I tried to connect to the bandhas, they did nothing for me.  Just like they POOF! magically disappeared at some point in the early days of pregnancy, they again POOF!  reappeared for me a couple weeks ago.  Oh, I was immediately able to connect to the physical access point of the bandhas, engage the proper muscles, even if they were weak, but they gave me nothing in return for my efforts.  They gave no umph to my jump throughs, no float to my arm balances until suddenly one day, they did!  Sure maybe all the seemingly productionless effort of the first two months of practice are what woke them up, but I tend to think that they returned when the time was right.  Nancy Gilgoff was recently in Miami for a workshop and she told me that Guruji used to recommend women take three months off from their yoga practice after giving birth and I am seeing now the wisdom of it.  I guess, for the next baby (there will be more) if I feel the urge to move again so soon, it will be a super mellow practice, restorative and yummy, like what I was doing at the end of the pregnancy.  I realize now that there is no hurry.  The postures come back, the strength returns, the body remembers.  I am currently working into my second series practice.  The practice itself is going well, I actually feel very open and strong.  It is managing consistency and re-establishing discipline, simply finding the time!  Without consistency, I lack endurance, but it is coming!  I trust it!  And I know that a rhythm will eventually settle or at least I will become more adept at navigating the unpredictability of my current life and the discipline will come.  I feel positive about my one year intention for my yoga practice (and the other thing too - 10 lbs away!) and as always, I am learning to release expectation and trust the process, trust this practice, trust myself.

If it is Challenging, Growth is Inevitable

One week has passed since the most profound, most intense, most challenging experience of my life. 
Our baby boy was born at home January 12, 2012 at 10:21pm.  It was long, 49 hours from when I realized I was in fact in the early stages of labor and not just having another false start or practice session like I had been having the past week.  "The event",  as I sometimes refer to it,  completely shattered any expectations I had regarding the birthing.  In the nine months of pregnancy I was preparing for a relatively easy delivery.  I thought, "I am in shape, I have my yoga, I have been practicing my breathing, my visualization, I have educated myself, I am SO ready for this!"  Now, you would think I had learned my lesson about expectations when I went through the process of adjusting my yoga practice throughout the pregnancy.   See previous blog entries for details on how that went!  Evidently baby had more lessons for mama regarding expectations, as well as patience, compassion, strength and love. 
Those first stages of labor just took a really long time.  Contractions were steady, consistent and gradually increasing in intensity but their affect on my body was subtle.  It took about 30 hours to get to 4 dilation.  This was through two nights that I was able to sleep maybe a total of 4 hours, and there was no eating, anything I tried was rejected by my stomach.   It was the second day that I finally found my yoga, I finally surrendered.  As the sun came up, we all: midwife, doula, daddy, mommy, gave fresh intention, energy and awareness to the event.  Daddy and I went walking in hallway of my building.  The walking actually lessened the intensity of the contractions and I was able to observe the tension I was holding in my body.  I had been using a breathing technique and visualization that I thought was helping me but it turned out that in my case it was allowing me to hold on rather than let go.  So a shift happened. It was a dropping away of layers of preparation, of "doing".  I became a passive participant - I let the labor happen and I allowed myself to be led by it.  Returning to the apt, I sank into a meditation practice, I disappeared for a while, several hours I think.  As the intensity gradually returned to where it had been through the night and passed it, I was able to maintain an attitude of acceptance.  Time in the tub and a blessed visit from an accupuncturist brought me to the final stages, 8 cm and the stomach spasms that urged me to push.  Of course, pushing was not available yet, so I released my body into daddy's arms and spent a few hours resisting the push, then finally the door was open and the real hard stuff began.  Through three hours of pushing, we realized that the baby was coming through facing sideways rather than down, making his navigation that much more difficult, he was also leading with his forehead rather than his crown, so the widest part of his 14" head rather than the narrowest and the poor thing had his hand up by his face with his elbow jutting in front of him, widening his chest and shoulders.  When finally his head cleared, I knew we were home free, I was calm as the midwife reached in for his little hand to pull it out before the shoulders and then the whole was born into the world.  When I pulled him to my chest and looked into his face, it was magic.  I had never felt such presence and total absorbtion in a single moment.  Distantly my senses observed daddy sobbing silently behind me, his body's convulsions rocking me and baby. We did it!  Finally!
I realize that had I been in a hospital I would probably not have been allowed to birth naturally, some intervention, even as much as a C-section would have been urged if not insisted on.  This doesn't mean I or the baby was ever at any risk during those two nights and two days.  We were monitored closely and all was well throughout, it just happened to take a really long time.  I can't deny that there were times that I acknowledged to myself, if they were available to me, I may have asked for meds.  There were times I felt like I was failing and I would not actually be capable of birthing my baby into the world.  I even told the midwife that I didn't believe her when she said the pushing was doing its job.  I am limitlessly grateful to the midwife for never saying the words "hospital" "transportation" etc.  She only said "We will give it some more time and then discuss your options."  We kept giving it time, but the discussions never happened.  We all stayed on the plan, and I couldn't be more appreciative. 
The midwife had appointments with other mothers that she had to cancel while she was with me and even took a few hours out of the second night to go deliver another baby (can you imagine what that did to my psychology lol)  A couple of days later the midwife told me that one of her mothers asked if I was really in labor that long.  When it was confirmed, the mother said "Does she realize how amazing and strong she is?"  My midwife responded "Not yet, but she will"  Its true. Not yet.  But I will.  It is coming to me.  As this week has passed I realize what a blessing that difficult experience has been.  For one thing, the bond that has been established among the three of us, daddy, baby and me is so deep.  We got through this together, we did this together, my effort, daddy's support (which blew me away, by the way, I didn't know he had so much in him to give so tirelessly and generously.  And it continues as we learn to care for this little bundle) and baby's intention.  Baby was the director of his birth and I see that he is the director of his life.  Daddy and I are here to facilitate and support him, that's our job as it was during birth, and we can handle anything.  Of course, there was also a yogic lesson for me.  I learned a lot by way of control, surrender, acceptance, compassion, patience. I learned that the capabilities of the human body, mind, heart, and spirit are way more expansive than we realize until we are pushed to release ourselves into our true potential.  We are all superheros when called to be.  If it is challenging, growth is inevitable.

Going In

     Beginning my third trimester as a pregnant Ashtangi.  It has already been an experience I could never have anticipated.  When I became pregnant, I was certainly ready to have the experience, ready to be a mom, but absolutely unprepared.  How could anyone possibly be prepared for this until they've done it once?  The past six months have been filled with lessons in detachment, surrender and allowing.  I had always seen myself  as a pregnant yogi doing a full and powerful Ashtanga practice with reasonable modifications.  If you have read my previous entries, you know that the first trimester dashed that idea almost immediately.  In six months I still don't feel as though I have developed my "pregnancy practice" and as I write this I become aware that there is no point to even imagine such a thing manifesting.  If I had to chose one word to describe this experience it would be "different". Different from every other pregnant woman I have observed in my classes.  Different from the pregnancies I have observed in friends and family.  Different than I could have imagined for myself.  Different from one day to the next. 
     My sister once stated that during pregnancy your body belongs to the baby.  While I certainly feel that my body is my own, it's purpose is devoted to the wellness and development of another's life.  There is nothing that does not affect in some way the growth of the child and the yoga practice has to honor that - talk about ego reduction!  Not that the ego hasn't been fighting for it's place.  The frustration of loosing the ability to do a pose, overnight - ego.  Getting on the mat and trying to determine the difference between what I think I should do and what I want to do - ego.  Completely avoiding, for months, primary series because it doesn't feel good - ego.  On this last one I was recently challenged by one of my own teachers to practice the primary series, mindfully and examine what this "doesn't feel good" story is all about.  Reluctantly, I did.  It was difficult and fascinating!  As I moved through the practice, I modified as I needed to, not at all attempting to do the practice as if I were not pregnant, but observing in every moment what dialogue came up, what emotions arose, etc.  I learned the difference between very real inner warnings "don't do this, not good for the baby" and feelings of avoidance based on frustration or even disappointment that I could not do a thing (like bind - in basically anything)  Body image stuff came up, very personal stories played out in my mind.  By the end of it, I think I had developed even more compassion - for myself certainly but also for any beginner on the Ashtanga path, attempting this primary series for the first time. 
     A deeper and for me profound understanding of primary series also came out of this little experience.  I felt for the first time how insistently this series of Ashtanga asks you to "go in".  The entire seated practice is directing and demanding that you pay attention to the inner spaces.  This became uncomfortably apparent when I currently have no inner spaces accessible.  All of the forward folds, the twists that take you into yourself, etc are taking you from your external perceptions towards the internal - feel the belly draw in, feel the hips fold in, feel the rib cage twist in.  And course, as we know, the physical experience and the mental and emotional ones are interconnected.  Reluctance to experience the physical inside often reflects reluctance to become aware of inner world's in these other fields.  It gives me even more respect for the Ashtanga system.  There is so much intention.  Before allowing you to do the expansive and opening positions of second series, this yoga makes you first become intimate with yourself.  It's amazing!  And no wonder I wanted to avoid it almost from conception - that inner space is home to another now.  Of course I also learned that there is a way to practice the primary series and also honor that, to modify, not as the ego directs but as the baby needs.  And I learned that I can still experience the inner spaces but it is with a very different energy, it is softer, it is communicative - I have to engage the baby and my pregnant body - the ego cannot just rush in, there is no room.

The Self as Witness

Guruji, Shri K. Pattabhi Jois head of the Ashtanga Yoga lineage, has been quoted as saying “Yoga is knowing where to look for the soul.  That is all.”  A simple statement about something very difficult in practice.  Where in fact does the soul sit?  And how does yoga bring us there?  Yoga, the eight limbs of spiritual practice, is a method of discovering the pure, true, divine form of the self.  The self that yogis call Atman.  All encompassed practices provide tools to that end including the behavioral codes, the yamas and niyamas; the physical postures, asana; the breathing practices, pranayama; the subtle practices of sense withdrawal, pratyahara and concentration, dharana. 
    The practices ask us to move through challenging experiences and turn an inner eye to our own reactions, to access and to learn about ourselves.  That inner eye is Atman.  As you move through your asana practice on your mat, or as you sit in a meditation or pranayama practice, allow yourself to become an observer.  Settle yourself into a space in the center of your head as a witness.  Following the movement of the breath, without controlling it, observe.  Notice the sensations of the body, notice pains or tensions and realize that as witness to the physical experiences of the body, you are not that pain in your knee, you are not the body.  Notice the movements of the mind, like images or words flashing across a movie screen, you can watch the mind’s activity and realize that as witness to your thoughts, you are not that question about what’s for dinner, you are not your thoughts.  Notice your emotional experiences, your mood, feelings and reactions.  If you can observe from a place of detachment that you react in anger to certain situations, or fear, or joy, you are the witness and as witness you are not your emotions.  It is the self that remains unattached to the experiences while gaining insight and learning through them that is the true you, Atman. 
    It is not an easy task and this is one reason that we often begin with the asana practice.  The mind is strong, powerful and tricky.  But when we turn the mind to become witness to the physical experience, as we move through this asana to that, feeling pains and resistance, we make mental statements about our experience and have emotional reactions about our experience.  As our mind observes our body's experiences, we come to accept and acknowledge that the sense of self, the “I” is not the body.  Each repetition of this experience solidifies it in truth and we are able to move to more and more subtle layers, the mental experiences and emotional ones.  With even more practice we come to realize that the thoughts that arise during practice, “I’m too short for this pose.” or “I will never move on in the series.” or even “I am terrible at this!” are just words that arise in reaction to the experience.  As practice continues and a pose is improved, you realize you weren’t really too short.  Then, then next pose is given, and you realize that thought of never moving on was not truth.  And whatever judgment we pass on ourselves eventually losses all power and application.  If even beliefs and judgments from the mind are transient and proven false over and over, then we accept that the “I” cannot be the mind.  Most difficult is dealing with the emotional level, but the same process is applied here.  With every experience emotional reactions begin to change.  You are less quick to anger, and fear becomes something you learn to move through, and even joy, happiness and hope are enjoyed but not clung to because they are recognized as experiences the Atman has and do not alone define it.  This is where the yamas and niyamas become innate and our true nature.
    This is the practice of non-attachment that Patanjali explains in the Yoga Sutras.  Yoga teaches us how to release our tendencies to identify with these things outside of ourselves: our bodies, minds, emotions.  These are things the self is capable of experiencing but the self is not that.  In an asana practice, there is constant fluctuation.  We have good days and bad days, tight days, open days, energetic days, lethargic days.  But as these fluctuations swirl we find an inner steadiness.  Even as the practice fluctuates from one pose to the next, one breath to the next, we challenge ourselves, to stay, ground, center and steady.  This inner hum of calm is Atman, the self that has the experiences but can remain unaffected by them.  This is the place that a yoga practice directs us to, this is where we look for the soul.

“To know what you are you must first investigate and know what you are not. And to know what you are not, you must watch yourself carefully, rejecting all that does not necessarily go with basic fact ‘I am’. The ideas: I am born at a given place, at a given time, from my parents and now I am so-and-so, living at, married to, father of, employed by, and so on, are not inherent in the sense ‘I am’. Our usual attitude is ‘I am this’ or ‘that’. Separate consistently and perseveringly the ‘I am’ from ‘this’ or ‘that’ and try to feel what it means to be, just to ‘be’, without being ‘this’ or ‘that’. All our habits go against it and the task of fighting them is long and hard sometimes, but clear understanding helps a lot. The clearer you understand that on the level of the mind you can be described in negative terms only the quicker you will come to the end of your search and realize your limitless being.”  Nisargadatta Maharaj