Lend A Helping Hand

Perhaps it's been my prevailing mood of late, one of melancholy, that has had me thinking about SEVA, also known as selfless service.  Or perhaps it's from spending a week intensive back with the Off The Mat, Into The World tribe that has me thinking about it.

Either way, the girls that we met this past February/March as part of the Bare Witness Tour to India have been on my mind.  I find myself wondering how they're doing and what has changed for them since our involvement.  We raised money as a collective to build a vocational training center;  housing for girls transitioning from being trafficked who've now found jobs and need a safe place to live; bought sewing machines for a women's small business; funded a safe drop in center within the red light district of Kolkata to keep kids safe and so much more.

I find myself wondering that if I went back to visit, if they would remember our faces and how much love we shared.  We wanted them to know that someone cared about them finding a connected and productive path in life, one which didn't threaten their safety or dignity.  A life that perhaps offered them a voice to stand in their own light and find a purpose to their life.  And we wanted them to know that we knew their suffering and loved them regardless, if not more.

So as I wade through my own personal grief, I know that one way to keep things in perspective is to feel gratitude.  I love the practice of saying, "In this moment, I am grateful for__________".  So in this moment I am grateful for stepping off my mat and into the world of service.  The experience of the Global Seva Challenge changed my life forever and made me want to have service as part of my way of being.

I'm not quite sure what the next type of service will look like.  After my return from India, I did one more fundraising class for India and I'm well aware of how much need exists in the world.  If this experience has taught me anything it is to set the intention of wanting to serve and the right project will open up before me.  In the meantime, I'll keep humming the words to a song I quite like called, "Women of Hope" by Morley.  One line continues to echo in my mind...

If you're feeling helpless, help someone.

Sounds like a good place to start.

 

 

Riding The Waves

 

 

This has been a challenging time.  They appear speckled throughout our lives and often we don't know when they're going to arise.  It's like we stand in the ocean that is life wondering what the next wave will be and how strong its undertow.

As many of you know, our beautiful, sweet and beloved dog, Koele, passed away a week ago.  He was two months shy of his 14th birthday, which alone is a blessing in that the average lifespan for Golden Retrievers is around 12 years.  I fell in love with him from the moment I saw his six week old adorable puppy self.  He had to learn his position in our small family pack as we had an older and quite vocal female retriever named Yindi.  Within three days despite Yindi's attempt to ignore both the pup and myself, we all bonded deeply.  This was only broken when she passed away almost two years ago.  Our small clan of human and canine traveled, hiked, swam and kept an eye on each other.  It was our "modern family" and now all that has shifted.

I feel gratitude for my practice in times when the waves seem bigger than me and that they'll knock me down and drag me under.  What my practice has taught me is to not push down my immense feelings of loss.  In the past when some trauma would touch my life I'd try to "keep it together and get on with things" which truly was an illusion as eventually it would make its way to the surface.

It was a blessing to help Koele transition.  Even in a most challenging and sad situation, I was able to rub his ears, place my forehead to his as I chanted an old mantra from the Upanishads, the mantra of transition: 

Om asatoma sadgamaya 

tamasoma jyotir gamaya 

mrtyorma amrtam gamaya

Click here for a translation

This doesn't mean it wasn't terribly difficult to do.  It was literally gut wrenching.  I was sobbing, but I kept going as it felt that it was my final act of unconditional love to a being that offered me unconditional love from the very beginning.  After he had passed, I connected to a primal sense of grief, howling with tears.  In those moments and many to follow, I made a conscious choice to feel all of it...fully, deeply and completely.  It would be a disservice to my own being to not let it all rise to the surface to be howled out, stumbling in my own grief.

It was as though I was standing in the surf being pounded by waves of loss.  At times they seemed to last forever, wave after wave.  But as I surrendered to the process, the waves still came but were further apart and less intense.  They are still coming, mostly in the quiet hours of the early morning or late in the evening when our pattern was around letting the dog out and either starting or ending our day.

Having felt the effects of deep grief years after my father passed, I learned a vital lesson.  Feel it rather than try to hide from it.  Yes, it's hard and sad but it also reminds me of two things:  One, life is short and precious...live it and two, my grief is a reflection of my love.  My grief is only as deep as the love I felt and I can luckily say that this grief is infinite.

Rest in peace my dear sweet boy.  Forever in my cavernous heart.

Does This Feel Good?

It came to me in a flash of inspiration as I was teaching a class to my chair yogis this past week. We were doing shoulder rolls and I could tell by the look on peoples faces that it felt really good. I asked the class, "Does this feel good?". They replied in unison, "Yes!". Then I asked, "Do you want to feel good everyday?" to which they replied, "Yes!". To which I replied, "Then do it every day!"

It sounded so simple. Want to feel good? Then do something everyday that makes you feel good. Now, you might be thinking (as I did) why don't I? What gets in my way from doing something that actually nourishes me on all levels of my being?

I have moments when I consider doing something and have a flash that although it might seem good, is it actually doing me good? For example, when I look at a glazed doughnut I think, "yum...that looks delicious. I'd love to take a bite out of that!". But, something stops me from doing so and I believe it to be experience. In the past, eating a deliciously sweet, yeasty glazed doughnut would give me this feeling of contentment...fleetingly. Then the result of it was a headache from the sugar and a bellyache from the gluten. What seemed like a good idea actually didn't serve me in the long run. So what I thought would satisfy my sweet tooth, aggravated the other systems in my body.

Another example is saying "yes" to something which swings us out of balance by over-committing. We might think we're being supportive of someone or something else, but too often I witness this as going to our own well once too often. We tap into our reserves and over time the proverbial well runs dry. We are no longer able to offer a helping hand to others because we haven't re-stocked our own energy stores to be able to do so. I have seen this so often reflected in people making themselves sick by simply saying "yes" to others and not to themselves.

So how can we get on the path of doing something that makes us feel good everyday? First, let's identify what it is that floats your physical, emotional and spiritual boat. When people move and stretch their bodies - it feels good. When people nourish their bodies with whole foods and oxygenate their cells through breathing- it feels good. When people drop all that they're doing and quiet their minds and close their eyes - it feels good.

When we over-caffeinate, consume too much sugar or processed food, don't get enough sleep, over-commit, move too little or stay connected to our technology all day long - it doesn't feel good.

This is an opportunity to identify what makes you go "ahhhh". It often doesn't take more than a few seconds to roll your shoulders or take a deep breath.

In fact, you could try it right now...let me know how it feels. Feel good? Want to feel good every day....?

Feet To The Fire

I know that change is truly hard.  To actually realize that something exists in your world that you would like to alter is a huge step towards greater awareness.  Often, we float through the years making the same choices until one day we recognize that these familiar choices are no longer serving us.  Something needs to shift.

Sometimes it's a relatively small step, like setting your alarm clock to get up 15 minutes earlier so you don't feel so harried in the morning.  You give yourself that bit of wiggle room to actually enjoy your hot cup of tea, check your inbox, take a few breaths and glide into your day.  At other times it's a much larger commitment.

Over the last few months, I have seen people ready to make a commitment to something new in undertaking my yoga teacher training course.  It takes a certain leap of faith to launch yourself into deeper study, particularly if you haven't studied yoga with me  previously.  You trust that your gut urging you forward is the right thing to do.  And then, as you begin the course you start to feel many moments of discomfort.  You're being asked to step in front of people and "instruct" for perhaps the first time in your life.  You're asked to try new things and think about how you maybe have done a yoga pose before in a completely new way.

Often when we feel uncomfortable the negative self-talk begins to arise.  We question, "What was I thinking? and Why did I want to pay good money and spend my weekends doing this?".  You begin to wiggle in your own skin and maybe even feel a knot beginning to take shape in your stomach.

I recently had a conversation with a friend who had asked me to mentor her, particularly in the area of functional anatomy.  We began this journey a  number of months ago and as the yoga teacher training was taking form, she wanted to participate in some of the modules specific to her needs.  As the time got closer, her doubt grew.  She began second guessing that she could do it..."I don't know if I can afford it.  It's a long, intense weekend and I have to work first thing Monday morning.  I don't know if it's where I want to be heading in this moment."  The doubts and objections grew as the time to commit grew closer.

As I listened to her I heard fear in her voice.  The feeling that the unknown was lurking and so one response was to withdraw and run away.  My response to her objections was this:  "Many months ago this is what you asked for, that's why I'm holding your feet to the fire.  You built the fire and I'm just a reflection of what you said you wanted."

I could almost hear her gasp at the other end of the phone.  "Oh my!  You're right", she said.  This was followed by a pregnant pause before we agreed that sleeping on it was probably a good idea.  A few days later, my friend called enthusiastically saying she was ready to undertake the training.  She realized that this was what she had asked for and doubt had crept up and gotten in the way, nearly sabotaging her willingness to move into something that was new and unfamiliar.

Being uncomfortable is a natural side effect of change.   When we feel uncomfortable, we can recognize it as an opportunity to do something different, to challenge ourselves to simply be okay as we're experiencing the discomfort.  What often happens is that the unfamiliar and uncomfortable feelings begin to lose their power over us and becomes part of the familiar.

That's called evolution.  So as we venture into the unknown, remember that when you feel like squirming, it's likely a reflection of your own growth.  Reach out and into the new expanse and enjoy!