May I Be Kind

Compassion.  It's the one take-away word that stayed with me when I sat with 10,000 other well-behaved Melbournians listening to His Holiness, the Dalai Lama.  He said many other poignant and insightful things that night, but compassion was at the core of all of it.

This past week in classes, I opened with the breath of compassion.  As you inhale, you breathe compassion to yourself and as you exhale, you send compassion out into the world.  Further to this practice, we anchored with a mantra or statement which was on the inhale, "may I be kind to myself" and the exhale, "may I be kind to others".

So what does compassion look like in action?  Specifically, what does it look like when you are practicing compassion for yourself?  Part of this is rooted in the yoga sutras of Patanjali, where the first facet of the eight-limbed path is the yama-Ahimsa.  Ahimsa is often translated as non-violence, but simply putting "non" in front of violence doesn't necessarily denote its truest meaning. 

Nischala Joy Devi in her book The Secret Power of Yoga describes Ahimsa as "embracing reverence and love for all, we experience oneness" and says it "is a vast and continuous practice".  When we have the intention of holding reverence for all beings, including ourselves, then we are living from a yogic perspective.  As soon as we move away from this towards a more harmful way, we are no longer practicing yoga.

This includes eliminating violent acts against ourselves.  You might be thinking, "I don't act in a violent way towards myself...I'd know that I was hurting myself".  However, this can be subtle self-sabotage that has been such a part of our lives through childhood and cultural influences that we simply don't recognize it as being harmful.

Personal acts of violence might include obvious acts, but in a more subtle way things such as:  over/under eating; drinking too much alcohol; over/under sleeping; pushing yourself into yoga postures you're not quite ready to do; and toxic thoughts about yourself such as I'm too fat/thin, not good enough, uncoordinated, clumsy, inflexible or don't know enough.    We can harm ourselves through thought and action, ways that simply don't support us.  For many people simply saying "no" (to those who tend to have too much on their plate) can be a first step in self-kindness.  

It's one thing to recognize when we aren't acting from a place of self-love, but can you recognize when you are?  Posing these questions might help to shed some light onto your higher self:

When I am kind to myself, how am I acting?  How am I speaking?  What am I thinking?  How am I being?

When we begin to fully immerse ourselves into the experience of love for self, it can't help but ooze out and away from us.  Love begins within, true love that is unfiltered and bubbles up from the soulful inner voice.  When we truly hold compassion for self, holding for others becomes more familiar and easier. 

When we tap into this source, we are fully engaged in our yoga practice.  The Dalai Lama kept it simple...compassion.  If we practice it, we can experience its collective power.

Striving For Stuff

This past week we watched a documentary called, I AM. Created by Hollywood comedy director Tom Shadyac (Ace Ventura: Pet Detective), Tom diverges away from comedy and gets contemplative. Following a significant physical challenge that left him thinking about his own life, he seeks out prominent philosophers and spiritual leaders about what ails our world and how we can improve it.

Part of the question was prompted because as his success in films grew, so did his wallet and his acquisition of houses, cars, property and the use of private jets. One day an ephiphany struck as he stood atop a grand staircase in a 7000 sq ft Hollywood home. He had more stuff, but he wasn't any happier.

The American dream is pounded into us from birth. The ideal of owning your own home, with a yard and dog and perhaps a perfectly sized nuclear family of two adults and two kids. We are told that if we work hard, whether it be through education and a professional career, or through building a business or learning a trade, that we will find success which equates to happiness.

At some point along this dreamy path, excessive consumerism seemed to explode. The size of the house grew as did the number of cars needed to shuttle the family and still have space to hold our oversized purchases from big-box stores like Costco. The keeping up with the Jones' has become Olympic-like in its pursuit.

I'm not getting on my high horse around having stuff. I live quite comfortably in a beautiful house, in a lovely neighborhood, with a pool and a dog. Technically, I'm doing it...I'm living the American dream. I do work hard and run my own business. The question is, am I happy because of it? Basically, yes. I have more than my basic needs met and have created a serene existence doing what I love.

Then why do I sometimes struggle with the feeling that it's not enough?

Two words spring to mind: humility and gratitude. When I awaken to my own abundance and recognize that I am fortunate, I realize that I have more than enough. It's a humbling moment and is particularly potent when I travel into the third world (India & Africa) and see how happy people seem to be with so little.

It makes me feel as though my western abundance is just the frosting on the cake. But without the cake, the frosting isn't quite the same. The cake is how I choose to live consciously, compassionately and with purpose. It means staying connected to a deep sense of gratitude for all that is.

I AM was a great reminder to keep my "striving for stuff" in perspective. Just because I receive a new Athleta summer catalogue in the mail doesn't mean that I need a new swimsuit for the season. I have plenty and having more won't push me up the happiness scale, only gratitude will do that.

What's In It For Me?

This past week I posed the following question to my students:

What keeps you coming back onto the mat, week in and week out?

If you're like many people, what initially brought you to yoga has changed. You might have stepped into your first class because you were curious; or you heard that yoga makes you more flexible; or that it helps to ease tension and lower anxiety; that you have back pain and need to improve your core strength and flexibility; or you might have thought that yoga could help improve your balance.

When I first stepped onto a yoga mat, some 18 years ago, I was simply curious. My practice began at the University of Melbourne where they offered short courses throughout the semester. One of those courses happened to be yoga and they were PACKED! Jammed packed in fact. I began to wonder, "why are all these people going to yoga? I've got to check it out".

At that time, yoga was completely foreign. Every pose sounded the same-blah, blah-asana. I realized that parts of my body were wound really tight (ahem...said my hips). My instructor, Murray, had a glimpse into my future and said, "Jayne, you should teach yoga..." to which I replied, "I'm not interested. I teach everything else. I want to just do yoga for myself".

That was my initial reason that I kept going back to the mat. But, 18 years later things have changed. Yoga now is the foundation upon which I choose to live my life. As my knowledge and practice has grown, the realization that yogic philosophy has given me the foundation by which I live moment to moment and day to day. It's evolved from being an activity that I did a couple of times each week to a way of life. And the funny thing is, is that I never would have anticipated this evolution the first time Murray uttered the words, "stand with your feet together with the crown of your head lifting to the sky".

My curiosity continues to intrigue me. Why do my students keep coming back to the mat? Here are some of their reasons:

1. "It reminds me to exhale. Before I started doing yoga, I had no awareness around how my breath moved. Coming to yoga reminds me to exhale".

2. "It keeps me strong both in body and mind".

3. "I walk in feeling one way and leave feeling completely different. No matter what is happening in my world, how busy or chaotic or stressed I am, the moment I come into class it all fades into the background".

4. "To be in front of a teacher. To receive and learn".

5. "To be with the energy of the group. I feel this positive vibration when I'm with everyone else in class".

6. "The feeling at the end of the class where you feel energized, as though you've expended energy and yet feel completely relaxed".

7. "My yoga practice is a sanctuary. When I step onto my mat, it's all about me with no need to impress or compete with somebody else".

8. "It connects me to that deeper part of me that I'm too busy to acknowledge when I'm doing my daily activities".

9. "To connect to myself, to my teacher and to my community of fellow yoga practitioners".

So, I'm asking you. What keeps you coming to the mat? If you haven't started your practice yet, what's keeping you off the mat?

I would love to hear what you have to say. Feel free to share your experience!

Leaky Boat

One of the most interesting and innovative bands to come out of the Australian/New Zealand rock scene back in the 80's were called "Split Enz". Two brothers Tim and Neil Finn formed the band, wrote many hits, were hugely popular down under and eventually reformed as Crowded House (initially with Tim). What do they have to do with yoga, you might be asking? It has to do with my thought of the week and as I have been thinking about it, it reminded me of a song Split Enz had called "Six Months In A Leaky Boat".

And you're still wondering...Split Enz...yoga...leaking boats...what's the connection?

Here it is. One of the keys to any practice, including a yoga practice is consistency. Turning up time and time again on your mat, going through repeated exercises of breath, movement and awareness. It often begs the question, "how much is enough?". And that's where seepage comes in. As soon as you embark on the journey of a yoga practice, the moment you set yourself onto your mat, I believe you are forever on the journey. It is a process of unfolding, opening and growing awareness.

Even if you only practice yoga on an irregular basis, you will begin to have seepage. Some of the thoughts, ideas and practices will begin to ooze into your everyday awareness. We often procrastinate doing something because we are unable to fully commit to doing it...the all or nothing syndrome. But, once you begin to learn the tools of yoga, they begin to seep into your day.

Things such as:

1. Taking a deep breath before answering the phone.

2. Pausing before taking your first bite of a meal to inhale the aromas.
3. Thinking about your standing posture as you are waiting in line at the store or bank.
4. Allowing yourself five minutes to just sit and do nothing.
5. Recognizing when your self condemning thought is just that...a thought that can be shifted into a self supportive one.
6. Giving someone 100% of your attention when listening to them speak.
7. Feeling gratitude for someone or something.
8. Moving your body in a natural and easy way.

These are just a few simple things that can easily leak into your life. And what is the ingredient that they all have in common?

Awareness.

Obviously we do as much as we can. If we seek to dive deeper into our practice we can certainly dedicate more time to doing so. We can open the flood gates and let our practice become a way of living. But if that's overwhelming, try spending six months on a leaky mat instead...

If You Didn't Know How Old You Are...

I once saw this on a birthday card: "If you didn't know how old you were, how old do you think you would be?". Interesting question, as I know that as I approach turning 50 next year (yikes!), I often feel like I'm a young kid. How is it that my internal age doesn't quite match up with my external self?

It's a process to look in the mirror and work on accepting and loving my wrinkles. I have to work on it because, we live in a culture that wants to live long lives, yet avoid the part where we look like we've lived a long life.

I recently asked my oldest client, 97-years old, the above quote. He sat there puzzling over an answer to which he replied, "it depends on my mood". This got me thinking more about the idea that our age truly is a state of mind.

If we feel vital, enjoy good health, are connected to our purpose in life and happily socialize with friends and family, we can feel younger than our calendar age. Think about a time when you attended a reunion with people from your childhood and how some of the patterns of interaction were reminiscent of when you were younger...and for a little while there you lose the connection to your actual age.

I understand why we want to look and feel young. The primal need to be attractive to others, the energy that youthfulness brings to the work place or city in which you live and the feeling that we are still vital and needed. Plus, we don't live in a culture that highly honors our elders and the wisdom that's been gathered throughout the years. So, how can my yoga practice support me in aging gracefully?

As Mark Twain famously said: "There are two certainties in life-death and taxes". It iterates a basic truth that everything is in transition and that nothing is permanent. Yoga offers up the idea that we are spiritual beings having a physical experience. That our vehicle (this body) is how we sense all that is happening on the physical plane...taste, touch, sight, sound, scent. If we keep ourselves in optimal physical condition, we reduce the hurdles that get in the way of us going into a deeper spiritual realm. If we focus simply on the physical, we lose out on touching the seat of the soul.

We honor the temple (our bodies) so that we may journey into the place where we form thoughts, experience emotions and ultimately deepen our own awareness. This takes us through different energetic layers of our being and is thought to place us on the abyss of bliss.

Think of those times where you were completely at ease, floating in a moment of utter bliss. These moments, often fleeting, are an experience of being completely present...IN THE NOW of life. If I focus my attention on shining light into the present moment, guess what? I don't even know that I have wrinkles.

In fact, what I have noticed in the most beautiful elders that I've come across is not the smoothness of their skin, but the radiance of their being. It can't help but expand out emitting the most deeply held beauty of all...a peaceful and loving heart.