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I can't tell you I know exactly when it all began. All I know is at some point I realized that I was on the path of yoga. It didn't begin with my first class way back in 1994 when I began practicing Iyengar yoga with my first teacher, Murray. The class was held at the University of Melbourne where I was working as the manager of their group exercise program and I walked into the class because it was becoming so incredibly popular with students and colleagues I had to go see what all the buzz was about.
For those of you who practice Iyengar yoga, you know that it is quite particular in sequencing, the use of props and alignment. We never chanted, meditated or spoke about yoga philosophy. Having been a gymnast, it was a practice that I was "good" at, in that I could do many of the poses including inversions, balances and strong standing poses. I enjoyed the practice but it didn't stir my soul. It was all quite physical in the beginning.
My practice took a brief hiatus when we moved to the States. I didn't have a teacher or a studio that drew me in. I would practice on occasion but all quite informally in my own personal training studio. Yet there was always something deep within me that kept yoga in my consciousness. I had a feeling that I'd be drawn back to it, which I was when my husband Ed made a deal with me. One day he said, "I'm getting older and I need to work on my flexibility. I wish you taught yoga." To which I replied, "I'll make you a deal. I'll go and do my yoga certification if you promise to come to classes.". He paused only for a moment and said, "I'll take that deal..." And the rest is history, or so to speak.
It was somewhere in my 200-hour training that the door to yoga philosophy was opened. I knew in those first exposures that I was hungry for more. It was the philosophy of the practice that I had been yearning to explore. And perhaps that's where I took my first genuine and committed steps along this particular spiritual path. I had found a framework that made sense and was a way to begin living my life in a daily way that was practical. It became my practice.
I have always had a spiritual curiosity. Dear friends in Australia and I would meet on a regular basis to drink wine, eat food and discuss the latest "new age" teachings and ideas. Looking back, so much of what we were talking about emerged from the ancient yogic philosophies now wearing a modern age outfit.
In walking along this path, I knew that I wanted to become conscious about how I was living my life. I wanted to choose how I was on a daily basis, to be present with the people in front of me from a place of compassion and love. I wanted to enter into a better relationship with my physical body, from a place of acceptance and gratitude. I knew that if I began to practice these ancient teachings, that I could more authentically ask others to practice them as well. The saying of "walking the talk" has been important to me and I clearly remember setting a firm intention to do so from a genuine place. But that wasn't the only reason. It felt right on the deepest level of my own being. If I were to never teach it to anyone else, I knew in my heart that it was the missing piece to my own joy.
In looking back over my own evolution, I have no doubt that I have found my feet firmly embedded on this path. It doesn't mean it's the right path for everybody and we all need to find what sparks that indescribable pull to higher realms. Many paths, one truth. That truth for me is via these ancient teachings-the path of yoga. My wish is that we all may find what resonates deep within us and follow it.
Listen to the inner voice...it's full of wisdom.
Having taught yoga and movement for several years, I have seen many people in many different postures. At times, I glance across the room and everyone looks lined up and centered. And at others...not so much. Take Half Moon (Ardha Chandrasana) as pictured above. For those unfamiliar with yoga, this might look just fine in their eyes. She's hanging out in this pose, spreading limbs in many directions and perhaps they're wondering, "hey, could I do that?"
For the initiated, they might notice a few things about the pose. For better alignment, the angle of her standing foot could point toward the block, which would externally rotate her leg and not put her knee joint in an awkward position. She's flexing at her hips, throwing her torso in a forward position (and her backside pressing backward not lining up over her base of support) and her top raised arm looks as though it's drifting behind her, as if detached from the rest of her torso.
From a teaching perspective the above picture is a juicy opportunity to offer adjustments that might make the pose feel better and more integrated with the rest of her body.
When watching many people practice yoga I often notice how disconnected people are from where parts of their body are in space. When people lift their leg behind them and are asked to "straighten" their knee joint, it's as though because they can see it, they can't straighten it. Similarly, for poses where the torso revolves with an extended arm reaching out from the side. The arm tends to drift behind the lateral (side) plane of the body into a seemingly unknown realm, behind the body adding an odd lift into the shoulder.
It begs the question, "Is being disconnected from our body in a yoga pose a reflection from being disconnected from other areas of our life?" When we have little idea as to the relationship of where our arm is reaching, is it similar to where our minds are wandering? How often do you actually notice the negative self-talk? How long does it rattle on before you say to yourself, "Hey! Pipe down in there...this isn't serving me!" Or when you unconsciously repeat a phrase such as "ya know?"or "Now we're gonna..." My husband (thankfully) broke my "ya know" habit by interrupting me every time I'd say it, which was often.
Raising consciousness can begin on our mats through our asana (physical) practice. When we begin to create a clearer connection to what is happening in our body, our mind builds a new bridge of awareness to the experience. Over time, we continue to fine tune our knowledge of what's happening in our body, so much so that we whittle down the point of focus to the pinkie toe and the right side of the rib cage. We sense and feel at a deeper level which is reflected in how our practice feels. When we begin to step toward this the practice gains a sense of ease, grace and flow.
The same can happen in our mental chatter. When we begin to notice and interrupt the dialogue that is negative, unflattering or destructive, we begin to move toward thoughts and words that are supportive, gentle and loving.
Yet one thing needs to happen before the magic can begin. We need to roll out our mats and step on. It also helps to have a competent and aware teacher to guide us in our process and be the spark that lights the flame toward self-love.
The other day I saw a post on Facebook from a friend in Colorado who had just posted picture of a fresh snowfall. Meanwhile, I'm sitting in the desert of Southern California, early spring where the temperatures are warm enough to wear shorts and tees, looking at this picture and thinking, "Brrrr...that looks cold. Why don't you move back to California?" And perhaps this friend was thinking something similar. Yet another storm has dropped snow and many people might be thinking "enough already!"
The one year my family lived in Iowa, the arrival of the first snowstorm was nothing short of magical. It was cold but incredibly fun to romp in, have snowball fights and enjoy the pristine quiet that often comes with snow. By the time April rolled around though with even more snow, it wasn't quite so magical and everyone was yearning for spring to break through.
My thought of the week was obviously sparked by the image of yet another storm compounding the already long, cold winter. Why is it that what initially seems so lovely and easy can have a different feeling over time? Same snow, different experience. Perhaps a primal piece exists within us that can tolerate a certain level of change and challenge. We adapt to the newness of a situation and cruise along without any great fluster. Yet, if we have a sequence of things happen that seem to come one after the other, it all seems to "snowball" (no pun intended!) disproportionately out of control. What initially was manageable seems to have spun away from us and now is heading toward the feeling of overwhelm. Add fatigue into the equation from lack of sleep or long hours working, then managing anything outside of what's spinning out of control is near impossible.
Sound familiar?
Someone described a parallel thought around risk factors and heart disease. If a person had one risk factor, it seemed to be somewhat manageable, but if they had two, three or four risk factors it multiplied exponentially and increased dramatically the chances of suffering from a heart related incident. In these cases, 1+1 doesn't equal two, but much more than that.
At times where we have a multitude of factors influencing us, how we manage ourselves through these experiences can make the difference between it being an acknowledged fullness to life to a feeling of dread and inability to handle it. When I see people in these states of overwhelm or find myself in one I am reminded to look after myself on the most fundamental level by nourishing with healthy food choices, getting plenty of sleep, breaking things into manageable chunks and slowing down!
Overwhelm is a sign of imbalance, something is outta whack. Yoga is about the practice of finding and establishing balance, living in that place where our bodies, minds and inner selves are in harmony. And often, when things spin out of control, one of the first things we surrender is time spent on our own selves. Instead, step ONTO the mat, not away from it. Realize that taking time to breathe and move the body, to sit quietly and reflect are the perfect antidote to what can manifest as feeling that life is heavy.
So, if you're living through yet another snowstorm, enjoy the beauty as this too shall pass. It might be your last chance for months to build another snowman!
