Live Your Yoga

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Sitting on my back porch. The sun is shining for what feels like the first time today. I was feeling a lot better yesterday, so much so that I think I over did it a bit. Therefore the morning brought me more mucous and a headache to seal the deal.

I taught 2 classes. The first was a gentle reminder that it’s hard to talk for an hour straight when you’ve been sick for days on end. I ended up having to leave the room for savasana because I thought I might go into a coughing fit and ruin the relaxation experience

The second was a little smoother. One of my favorite students was there. Yes, I have favorites~ but I do not play favorites. She is just the most lovely of creatures and her presence makes me smile every time. She and her partner in crime, which was absent today, are both shiny; the two of them bring joy to my heart.

I have a design commission to complete for Custom Made Fairytale. The wedding’s in June and that’s been weighing in on me a bit. It’s hard to be motivated when I’m sick. Plus, I want to be in the right spirits when I’m working on her dress. Energy transmutes.

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Good Goddess, this tree on my back porch is gorgeous. I don’t love her so much when I’m picking up spoiled crab apples in late Summer (she and I had a talk about this yesterday), but oh~ how I love her right now. She is the Sacred Yoni Tree. She has 3 perfect slits in the roundness of her trunk. It’s odd. But perfect. And she has always brought to mind for me the sacred feminine. I guess I should keep that in mind come late Summer as a reminder that we all fall down and get bruised sometimes… but we can still make the sweetest jam.

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Sacred Yoni Tree

Somehow I have come down with a cold. Ugh. It was quite bizarre. I came home from work yesterday feeling fine, with the exception of being a little dehydrated. I ate some food and went to the back porch to sit in my rocker. My husband was pounding away on our earth ship (greenhouse) tires. I was sitting there, and all of a sudden I felt myself dozing off. My head got heavy and my throat started aching.

I went inside and laid down for maybe 40 minutes or so, but had to sub a class for a friend that I’d already committed myself to. So I made some slippery elm tea with chamomile and rose petals, and went on my way. I got through the class okay. Do you ever just go into ‘work’ mode? That’s where I was. I slept heavy, but I can still breathe through my nose so I slept decently. When I woke this morning, however, I hardly had a voice. I knew I could make more tea and go into work mode again. But my husband and I both agreed that showing up in this state was not showing up. And if I’m contagious, I don’t want to inflict that on my students.

So I had to cancel my a.m. class and get a sub for my noon. I still had to work at the boutique tonight, no way I could get out of that one, it being a new job and all. I am so thankful for the morning and early afternoon of rest though. It was necessary.

honey lemon throat coat, tissues, and my pen...

I had two phenomenal classes on Friday. Different venues, different students, different atmospheres. Both however, had amazing energy! Jai! I was so elevated from those classes. The experience and sacred sharing that can happen during yoga is endless.

It’s the energy of my students and the energy we build together. They are wonderful. We do not just share as teacher/student and the practice of asana. We share life. We share precious moments of intimacy. We share the blessing of simply being together.

I end every class with a message of gratitude for my students. And I mean it deeply every time.

photo courtesy of Simon Andrews

Om and Garden is closing. The first yoga studio I officially taught at in Colorado Springs. I’m torn by it. I love that little studio. We’ve been through a lot together. My energy, and that of my students, have helped to create that sacred space. And it is sacred. Everything will be fine, though. Kim is making the right decision for herself, and I honor her for that. I know how difficult it is to let go of such a monumental part of your life. And I expect she’ll go through a grieving process. (Lucky for her, she gets to go through that process in Hawaii ) I had considered taking over the studio, and perhaps getting a few more teachers in there. But the rent is just too high to take on as a commitment. I’m very serious about the commitments I make. That’s why I make so few of them.

All will be well. Someone will come along to create their own brand of magic in the space. And I’m sure that they’ll be grateful to be there. As was I. In the meantime, I’ll continue to teach elsewhere. They don’t have quite the same feel, but I’m continually thankful that the spaces exist, so that those who come seeking can find (hopefully) what they’re looking for.

I’m subbing a last minute class tonight for a friend. I had planned on having an evening at home with the family and some quiet time with the moon. It’s full tonight. But I figured, a little yoga thrown in the mix can only love it up that much more.

So I suppose my lesson for the day is this: Embrace change. Whether it’s coming up or happening right now, this moment.

Be in it. Breathe in it. And find the bliss in it.

Peace out, y’all.

Here’s the thing. At least, it’s the thing for me. A yoga class that lasts about an hour and fifteen, generally feels like at least 3 hours for the teacher. Not in a bad way. It’s just the energy expenditure that goes into it. So after a day of teaching 2 or 3 classes, I am absolutely exhausted. On top of that, I also used to spend way too much time planning my classes. You know, this particular sequence for the warm up, this pranayama exercise, this reading. W2 to W1 to Parvrita Trikonasana… and on and on and on.

I don’t plan my classes anymore. I made a comment to my husband this morning while gathering my belongings for class and my daughter for school, that it was good that I didn’t plan my classes anymore, otherwise I wouldn’t have time for anything else. Yes, this was an exaggeration. And yes, I do still plan my classes occasionally. When I mentioned this to Niko this morning, and also asked if it was terrible that I didn’t, he made a good point: if I take the time to plan, and then my student base is completely different than the class I originally intended, well, what really is the point? That is the point.

When I was in teacher training, the instructor said this: There is the class you plan to teach, the class you actually teach, and then the class you wish you would have taught. God was she right.

This is something that you learn only by practice. When you’re fresh out of teacher training, you spend countless hours with your pen and paper, your notes, your mat. You work on perfecting your class design. It’s necessary. Eventually, you begin to figure out that even without the plan, everything will be alright.

So when I got to class this morning, intending to at least make some sort of standing practice sequence, in walked 2 new students. The first, with a recently broken wrist, in therapy, and having only practiced yoga by video and not for a number of years. The second (husband of first) had been to yoga classes about a decade ago, and had no admitted experience. He asked if it was necessary that he take his shoes off.

So here is where my husband’s point was proven. I had to throw everything out the window. Here was my vinyasa class, minus the downdog, updog, and absolutely everything that puts pressure on the wrists. As well as most of the flow in itself, as I was breaking down most of the poses to allow for complete comprehension. The class turned into a beginner’s foundation. It was fun, and a great lesson for me as a teacher.

My noon class turned out to be equally spontaneous. With only 2 students, and both regulars, it allowed for a nice environment of intimacy. On top of that, we spent the first ten minutes or so chatting and giggling, our own brand of yoga. I practiced through most of the class with them, and used my own body to guide our next move. That is the real vinyasa, right? Letting the breath guide the body into its perfect form.

So the day was a great reminder that, once again, everything will be okay. There is no reason to doubt, or panic, if you don’t have the perfect class plan mapped out with extensive detail… Chill. And let the flow begin.

I first discovered yoga twelve years ago, but I cannot say that I’ve been practicing yoga for twelve years. I knew from that moment of discovery however, that I had found something special. I didn’t know the depth of that realization. I only recognized the physical manifestation of health that my body exuded after asana practice. Pranayama found its way to me in bits and pieces in the beginning, as well as other yogic practices that I knew naught. Following Hittleman’s 28 day plan, I experienced things that I couldn’t name. I practiced Uddiyana bandha without truly knowing what systems of my body I was affecting. There was innocence then and a simple love for the experience.

I didn’t know about my edge until I took my first class, and even then, it wasn’t labeled an edge. It was taking my boundaries to new levels and moving to that point of ‘sweet discomfort’. It was watching my first teacher move through Paschimottanasana trying to explain to me how she was moving from her hips, not her waist, and not rounding her back; something completely foreign to me at the time. Now, all these years later I can experience that moment differently. I can appreciate and understand what she was trying to express. I can feel my spine lengthening as I grow out from my hips, the crown of my head shining forward. The awareness that has come out of the experience of the practice has been invaluable.

I’ve been through a few trainings, many workshops, and countless yoga classes over the last decade of my life. I thought that I had certain things figured out. What I’m discovering is that most of it has been an illusion.

The second yoga class I ever took, the teacher saw something in me that inspired her to take me under her wing. Soon after, I began to substitute her classes. Because of that experience, I thought it was my destiny to be a yoga teacher. I remember getting so nervous before every class, something that I still occasionally do. The sweaty palm, shaky voice kind of nervousness. For years after that, I had a boyfriend that said I was never going to be a yoga teacher and that I didn’t have what it took. I believed him even though I pretended not to, and spent many years trying to prove us both wrong.

I think the point I’m trying to make here is that all this time I’ve been trying to be a yoga teacher for someone else. Even up until my last training, I was still living with delusions of my ‘false self’ and continue to sometimes question if I’m beyond that. A part of my reasoning for undertaking the Kripalu program was because I thought that I needed it. More training equals more confidence. And that’s what I needed to be the yoga teacher. Confidence. What I’ve discovered through this process is that I’ve used confidence (part of the illusion) as an excuse to keep going, and that I’m not sure why I’m teaching yoga in the first place. I’m not sure if I even want to anymore, or if I ever did. And most importantly, that that’s okay.

I took a training to become a better yoga teacher. I took another training because my ego told me to. My higher self was being silent throughout and letting my ego take the lead. She knew the real reason I needed the Kripalu program. She knew I needed to come back to the beginning to find again the simple love for the experience. Kripalu brought me back into my body, where somehow my higher self knew that I desperately longed to be. I remembered that I loved being there.

My yoga has changed. Not in the way I teach it necessarily. Not yet. Though I do find myself bringing a specific Kripalu-esqe style into my classes, I feel like it was always there, I just didn’t register the origin. I can see an evolution coming soon. I’m crawling out of a box. I’m not sure if when I emerge, I’ll stop being a ‘yoga teacher’, or if I will just change the way I teach. I don’t know. I do know that I love yoga. Love. And that it will be a part of the rest of my life. I also continue to feel deep connections to being a teacher, period. How the two come together is really not important.

I thought a lot about what I wanted to touch on in this post, what I wanted to convey about my Kripalu experience. In the end, I took my pen to paper with a blank slate and an empty mind. My heart spoke, and this is what she said:

I made a comment one morning during sharing, and touched on it again earlier in this writing, about how my yoga was changing. I understand now what that means. My yoga is finally in the process of becoming mine. I am changing from those preconceived notions of what I thought yoga was supposed to be in my life. Through the influences and teachers in my life, I have become a version of those teachings. I am not inferring that this is a bad thing. I am only expressing the lesson that I have learned about my own individual nature. I also know now that it will continue to evolve. I am not restricted to a single teacher or philosophy. And though I have highly respected teachers in my life that I adore immensely, and will continue to do so and learn from, I am not destined to be just an example of their teaching.

I’m not sure what will happen next. I only know that I am now more at ease with the mystery.

I cannot say that it was Kripalu yoga specifically that brought me to these conclusions; conclusions that are not just about how I practice yoga, but how I live my life. I do know however that I came to these realizations during and after my experience in the program and that without it, I may not have done so. These teachings I will cherish, and from them I know that I will continue to grow.

Annoyed. Bothered. Quite honestly on the edge of absolute pissiness.

What brings me to these feelings of negativity, you ask? Oh yogini of gratitude?

Need I say more?

Daylight savings time.

I’ve been dreading it for weeks. Compiling this momentum of passionate frustration into imaginary letters to my government officials. Knowing that it was going to come, and at least for this time around, that I wasn’t going to be able to do a damn thing about it.

Last night I agreed to fill in a last minute class this morning. I agreed, forgetting that I’d be waking up an hour earlier, before the sun had even made his appearance. I wasn’t upset so much about the loss of that hour of sleep, I was upset that it was so unnecessary. I was upset because once again, some other force, that of the material, not natural world, is trying to undermine the beautiful and rhythmic flow of Mother Nature.

Why?! So we’ll have longer daylight hours. Well here’s the thing. We do not have more daylight. Just because you “take a foot off the top of the blanket and sew it to the bottom, doesn’t mean you have a longer blanket”. Just because you change our clocks, hoping that we’ll use that extra hour to go spend our money on unnecessary frivolities, or you think you’re “conserving” energy by allowing us to think it’s 8:00 when in fact it’s 7. Maybe we won’t turn on our lights until later? No. But we’ll leave them on just as long as we did before. Because our bodies are trying to listen to the cycles of the earth- not your damn regulatory control on our pocketbooks.

And thank you for taking away my precious morning sunrise, as I send my daughter off to school just past the break of dawn…

Stop.

Breathe.

When I got to the studio this morning I carried with me my frustration. Before my students arrived, I sat on my mat and took in my breath deep from my belly. I filled my heart with that breath and used it to relax my shoulders. I felt the sensations in my body and mind. I watched the motions of my thoughts as they bickered back and forth, between steadiness and chaos and allowed this all to happen without judgment. When my students arrived, they too were experiencing frustration, so we let ourselves express our feelings- and as a group agreed to allow our practice to melt away that tension and lift us up above and beyond the constraints of time.

By the end of class, we all felt much lighter.

So yes, my breath and my practice helped me move through the matter with more grace, but I am still frustrated with the system itself.

I understand that because I live and function in society, I have to follow the rules. I have to get my daughter to school on time, show up for work, and make my scheduled appointments. In order to do this, I need to let go and flow. While some people will feel like they’ve gained something by setting their clocks ahead, I feel like I’ve lost something…

And while some people might feel that I am overreacting or expressing too much rage on the subject, oh yogini of gratitude, I feel like I’m honoring my path and living my yoga. To hold back emotion, when it is not necessarily harmful to others, is to suppress the self. I am breathing. I am carrying on.

Kripalu yoga teaches brilliantly: Breathe, Relax, Feel, Watch, Allow.

I’ve decided to start focusing on themes in my classes. A new project, if you will. Inspired by my “Grace Cards” by Cheryl Richardson, I’m going to pick a card a week and focus on that specifically for all 6 classes, with slight variation of course.

For example, this week I pulled “Mindfulness”. I’ll present the term as a thought process and allow students to come up with their own idea of what it is for them. The cards have a passage on the back, but I think I’ll leave that out so that each student can access their own imagination.

And on the subject, I want to be more mindful of bringing those things I care most about back into my classes. Also those things that I am still learning. I cannot let my teaching get stagnant with the same ol’ class plan time after time. I have to continue to stay inspired as a teacher, and as a student.

Peace & love, y’all.

There is a new class that I have fallen in love with, led by an exquisite yoga teacher that I am so grateful for. It’s themed and called ‘Women’s Wellness’. I went to the first one on a whim, loving the name (interesting titles tend to catch my eye.) I discovered that it was a class that originated off of a workshop on stages of menopause, but this didn’t discourage me, it only further fed my spark. I have a deep love of learning new ways of healing and the idea that this class was formulated for women especially intrigued me. It was my first class with Keri, and I have since discovered that she is an inspiring teacher, something that I personally look for.

The classes are informative and nurturing not only for those nearing menopause or experiencing the full effects of this often challenging time, but also for me (soon to be 30 years old and most likely years away from this phase of womanhood). The sequence is designed to specifically support a woman’s body and the class is filled with tidbits of yummy information on ways to nourish your body and spirit.

I love yoga. It is a deep part of my existence and I know that I would not be who I am without it. I also love women. I feel a strong connection with my sisters in this life, and sometimes feel that we need the support that only our sisters can give ~in more ways than we may let on. This is not to exclude men from our lives, or the balance and love that they provide. This is to acknowledge the bonds that we as women share, and to learn to honor ourselves as the Divine feminine that we are.

~Afraid to move forward
hesitating in indecisiveness
back and forth
back and forth
back and forth

until one morning
She wrapped herself
in purple silk
put roses in her hair
and shouted, “YES!”
to the sky.~

“Release” by Tara Maher 2007 (from Wemoon 09)

My Lahiri girls

I am so grateful for being born a woman. I, like many women before me, and I’m sure many women after me, have spent time growing towards that gratitude, and of learning how to experience it comfortably. But I can now and I DO. I am grateful for my curvy thighs, those that I used to resent, but now embrace as being my support and connection to my heritage; I love my curves. I am grateful for my emotions; happy or sad, content or confused, as they guide me and help me understand lessons that I may not have access to otherwise. I am grateful for my moon cycle, that which comes to regulate me and remind me of my feminine nature and strength. I am grateful for my breasts, and accept gravity and its purpose, and that I was able to nourish my daughter and possibly other babies in the future.

I am grateful for my sisters. Those women of blood and beyond that inspire me to be the woman that I am, that encourage me to go beyond my perceived limitations of what I believe I am capable of. Those women that see the spark in me even when I no longer can, and remind me constantly of my Divine nature.

I am grateful for my mother, and her mother before her. And the grandmothers of time that have brought us to where we are today. I am grateful for their experiences, their victories, and their struggles. I am grateful for their courage and their sacrifice. I am grateful for their wisdom.

I am grateful for my daughter. I am grateful for OUR daughters. For they are the women of tomorrow, and the wisdom gained from our past will guide them to their future.

I am grateful to be alive and to be alive as a WOMAN. We still have so much to learn. But together, we will. With the wisdom to come from a place of love, we as women can continue to change the world.

EMBRACE YOUR DIVINITY.

What do you do when you experience the sacred? When your heart trembles? When your inner fire is so bright it can barely be contained… When your cup of joy is filled to the brim?

I had the joy, the pleasure, of spending the past 3 days with Shiva Rea, Shiva Kumar, and a myriad of other luminous beings. Even now, sitting here with the intention of sharing the experience, it’s hard to bring forth the words that will fully express the joy of what I feel.

I want to keep this feeling. Carry it with me and experience it off the mat. But how?

This morning I wake, my first morning of not having to jet off to Denver in 3 days. Wrapped in the arms of my beloved, I am in bliss. We arise, I make my daughter breakfast, pack her lunch for the day, and send her off with a kiss as my husband waits to drive her to school. I notice our dog going along for the ride, as he often does, so I attempt to retrieve a bag out of the back that I don’t wish to be trampled on and covered with dog hair. However, they are already running late, my husband hands me the wrong bag, there is confusion that I realize I am causing, so I try to just send them on their way and not worry about the coat in the backseat. I walk away feeling slightly frustrated, and then guilty for putting an edge to the morning.

This is not what I wish to be feeling my first morning home with my family. So I leave the wrong bag at the door, enter the house, and immediately sit… and breathe.

The short moment of frustration is gone. The guilt has passed. I sit and I breathe and I relax. The dog is happy he gets to go for a ride. My husband comes home and makes me laugh and the morning strife was all in my head. All is well.

The saying of ‘choose your battles’ is so very true.

So back to the point, if there was a point. Embodying the sacred and carrying it with you. The previous passage only an example of what can distract you from your path, and what you learn from it.

I am able to find the sacred in most of my daily journeys. Preparing food for my family, playing with my daughter, making love to my husband… but it’s the Embodiment of the Sacred that I am after. With every breath, every step, every word, every action. I’m not talking about being a saint. Just practicing awareness, and bearing witness.

As I am able to fully grasp the essence of the past days, as it slowly makes the transition from the pathways of my heart to my (cyber) pen, I will hope to get it here, in some comprehensible form, to you.

In the meantime, I will share a piece that has stayed at the surface, and still radiates throughout.

Photo by Amy Meyer

Studying yoga with Shiva Rea is a yogic adventure unlike any other. After the first session on that first day, I called my husband to share my joy, and send my love. As we talked, I tried to convey to him the feeling of my morning. What I came up with is this: Practicing with Shiva, every asana, every breath, every single movement I made, no matter how simple, became a prayer.

Now I must mention, I do not generally pray. I do believe strongly in the power of prayer, but I am not one to practice it. Unless, and I say this without shame, I am in need of something, like protection for my family while I am away, or I am giving thanks for a good meal or good health. But these things are usually just in passing silently to myself, or at times, aloud. I do not ever recall really feeling prayer though. So as I spoke to my husband, I realized that at this moment, I did. I felt it.

I moved and I prayed with my movement. It wasn’t an effort. It was rather divine in its simplicity. Embracing that realization for myself was very powerful. If I could find this prayer on my mat, I could surely step off with it as well.

The next morning, before beginning a very vigorous and intense physical practice, Shiva had us pair with a partner. She wanted us to pray together. How appropriate, that I should find my prayer the previous morning and now to find myself in another lesson, at Shiva’s request.

I found my partner and observed everyone else pairing together. We faced each other, knees touching. Some simply laid their hands on their knees, palms up. Some placed their hands together in a prayer position at their heart. I took my partner’s hands and we placed our palms together as if we were a mirror image. She smiled at me, communicating silently that we had found our perfect position. We closed our eyes and were silent.

I tried at first to pray in what I thought was typical prayer form. You know, compassion for all living things, etc., etc. But that just wasn’t working for me. Of course I wish compassion for all living things, etc., etc., but this moment had to be organic and effortless. I had to stop trying to force it and just let it happen. So I sat there in silent meditation with my friend, our hands pressing, and just focused on my breath. And then the words came to me. “My body is a prayer. Everything I do is sacred.” Yes! That was it. Everything about those words felt perfect to me. So I repeated it, over and over again. I made it my mantra. And it became my prayer.

I passed it to my friend through the silence, through our touching skin, and I embraced her in my words. “Our bodies are our prayers. Everything we do is sacred.”

When we were called back to the present, my friend and I opened our eyes, squeezed our hands together, and hugged. No words were exchanged. Only love. And the entire room was vibrating with it.

So I share this with you as an invitation to make this your mantra.

When you wake up in the morning, before you open your eyes, stretch out your limbs, breathe in your god/goddess breath, remember and embrace your divinity, and say these words.
My body is my prayer. Everything I do is sacred.

Mean it fully and repeat it often.

Let your love light shine!
-B