Three Rhythms

I recently heard a teacher talk about three rhythms of our body and became curious in exploring this idea and using it as a way to engage more deeply in our experience of yoga.  

 

The first rhythm is that of the beating heart.  If you take a moment to pause, get quiet with your breath and close your eyes, can you feel the rhythm of your own heartbeat?  I notice it as a pulsation that has a subtle rocking action.  When I get quiet enough to sense it, I notice its beautiful regularity, strength and connection to being alive.  If we think about our hearts simply as physical organs, they are simply amazing.  They have their own circuitry and electrical system which works without us even thinking about it.  Our hearts beat at rest somewhere between 60-80 beats in just one minute. Multiply that out by our lifetime and this incredible pump literally keeps on tickin' without any input directly from us.  It just keeps ticking and thumping and beating.

 

Beyond its physically miraculous structure lie the less tangible energetics of our heart: love, compassion, forgiveness and grief. Our arms are an extension of our heart which is expressed when we hug, give a high-five, shake hands, pat someone on the back, prepare food, clap or gently stroke somebody's face.  Our arms and hands reflect what the language of our hearts is speaking.

 

Yet our heart isn't something we can control.  There are stories of enlightened beings stopping their heartbeat simply by thinking about it, but beyond that they beat to their own drum.

 

The second energy is that of our brain and brain wave patterns. In I.2 of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali,  "Yogas Citta Vritti Nirodah", has been translated as "Yoga is controlling the activities of the mind (chitta)" which recognizes that one of the primary objectives of undertaking yoga is to quiet the endless thoughts that bombard our minds.   Our brain activity and resultant brainwaves fluctuate constantly.  The brain waves of a person deep in meditation are distinctly different from those overly dramatic thoughts of an insomniac who is awake at 2:00 AM.  The practice of meditation is about becoming an observer rather than a participant in these fluctuations.  And if you ask even the most experienced and seasoned meditators, they STILL have days in which their thoughts jump around like the proverbial "drunken monkey" that's just been stung by a scorpion.  Bottom line: our thoughts are difficult to control.

 

The third energy is that of the breath. The beauty of this energy is that it is the one that we can greatly control and by doing so has an affect on the other two energies.  As I've written in previous blogs, we do have the capacity to go through our entire lives and be completely unconscious of our breath.  Sometimes it's beginning a practice such as yoga that we are exposed to the idea that we can actually alter our breathing and hence alter how we feel and react.

 

Yoga is filled with breathing practices that respond to and create a variety of responses in the body.  We can calm ourselves physically, energize low vitality, cool ourselves down or heat ourselves up. As we deepen our connection and practice to altering the breath, we can slow down our heart beat, lower our blood pressure and alter our brain waves.  

 

The power that is within to access how we breathe is immense. When these three energies intertwine and mingle, we can alter how we feel.  With what seems to be a constant barrage of bad news and connection to everything BUT ourselves and each other, getting to know our breath and its patterns can literally change how we view the world and how we feel within it.

 

Enjoy tapping into that source of breath that lies within...your heart, mind and soul will thank you for it! 

Trying Not To Fall

Initially it felt like an adventure.  I had qualified to compete in the regional gymnastics championships being held in Hawaii.  I have always possessed a wicked case of wanderlust, so qualifying to travel to Hawaii in order to compete was an added bonus.  I trained 30 hours a week as a gymnast...five hours a day, six days a week. School, gym, homework...repeat. We arrived on Oahu to the warm ocean breezes and somewhat hot and humid weather.  It was 1977 and the one-piece jumpsuit warm-up was all the rage, as well as my Dorothy Hamill-esque haircut.  


I remember the experience beginning with great excitement at being on the islands.  Then it was onto the familiar routine of hotel, gym, sleep...repeat.  Being in an unfamiliar environment combined with a change in weather conditions I was unaccustomed to and the anticipated rigorous competition ahead of me made me feel quite nervous.  I competed well, but not quite well enough...  1/10 of a point not well enough.  I missed qualifying for the sectionals (half of the USA) by what would translate as a slightly bent knee or a toe that wasn't pointed quite straight enough.  I was crushed.  I cried and then cried some more.  My coach tried to petition me through but they held firmly to the rules, unwilling to bend even that 1/10 of a point.  I had this deep gut feeling of unworthiness.


My gymnastics training had worked on the philosophy of trying not to fall.  Many opportunities exist to fall in gymnastics where you can virtually fall on any event or apparatus.  I know...I've fallen on or off all of them.  Sometimes just a little wobbly off-center fall and others a skeleton rattling experience.  Trying not to fall is a big deal. During a particularly challenging portion of training, I was instructed to complete 10 consecutive beam routines without a fall.  If I fell, I had to go back to routine #1.  It took me a couple of hours to reach that goal, but I got good at not falling.  Until we headed to Hawaii and my mental state wasn't as well trained as my physical state.


Why do I share this gymnastics tale of woe as my thought of the week?  I do it because it's a beautiful metaphor for life.  When we're kids, we frequently topple.  We fall, we get back up. I had a long history of stubbed toes, scraped elbows and banged up knees.  It didn't define me, it was simply something I did.  We fall because we explore and we are curious.  We test our limits and we learn them along the way.  We haven't quite heard the warning, "be careful or you might fall" fully in our consciousness.  And we fall in non-physical ways...emotionally, through challenging experiences, failures, rejections and not hanging out with the "cool" kids.


As we physically grow and begin to know boundaries we often become less daring, more linear in movement or perhaps injured in a way that instills a different sense of fear than previously existed.  In working with countless adults through group exercise, personal training or in yoga, they are often completely shocked at their inability to even balance on one leg...shocked!  I then ask the question, "when was the last time you practiced balancing?" which is often replied with a bewildering lack of recall as to when that was.  It's been so long since we tested the waters of balance and instability that we develop a fear of falling.


When working with many senior and super senior clients, I have a saying, "we learn a lot when we fall...or nearly fall".  We learn to pay attention, to catch ourselves on uneven surfaces, to notice that moment of tipping before we tip too far.  And this fear is valid as great injuries leading to great illness can be a result of a fall. And yet, when we allow ourselves to go to that place where the risk rises, our senses sharpen and our heart rate rises.  We tap back into a primal sense of survival, of finding our own two feet.


One of the great gifts of gymnastics was to teach me how to land and how to fall more safely.  It got embedded into my motor memory sometime in all of those hours in the gym.  And as I age and continue turning myself upside down in my yoga practice, I test my balance frequently to stay sharp.  And finally to give myself permission that it's okay to fall...whether that fall be a physical tumble or an emotional stumble.  I have also let go of the fall determining whether or not I'm good enough...I am enough, fall or no fall.


I know that although I may be a bit banged up, that it will all be okay.  If you fall, get up and try again...there's no 1/10th of a point deduction for that!

Zap

There we were...attending the annual Bhakti Fest, a yoga/music gathering located in the high desert near Joshua Tree, California. Our days were spent in morning meditation or chanting the Hanuman Chalisa (a 40-verse ancient prayer tapping into service, devotion and inner strength), attending yoga classes, eating vegan food and listening to live Kirtan (call and response) music.  People floated about enjoying good vibrations, feeling a deeper sense of connection to themselves and all other beings.  Love was in the air.  It was a time of letting go of the everyday and experiencing something different.  For many people, it pushes them completely out of their comfort zone and exposes them to a world of Bhakti 
(devotion), unlike many other traditional forms of contemplation.  It can't help but alter your state of being.

And then you hop in your car, sliding that new favorite CD into your player and continue the loving feeling all the way home. Until, that is, you walk through the door and realize you're back into the everyday...into the ordinary life that is yours.  The question is, "How long do these good vibes last?".


It's not just returning from Bhakti Fest when this happens.  It can happen following an amazing concert, coming home from vacation, a yoga retreat or after a major life event such as a graduation or wedding.  You're flying high on the richness of life as though reality and time are somewhat suspended, particularly if the experience was rich and heart opening.  How long can the residue of the experience last?


I've had this experience on many occasions and have found that the deeper I go into the "away" experience, the longer it sticks with me when I return home.  And if I can embody the feeling of what it's like to be in this buzzing state, I can access it during moments of my ordinary day to day, especially during smaller moments that reflect it, such as meditation, cycling, practicing yoga or listening to music.


The key is to step into your own sanctuary on a daily basis. Heading off to a festival or vacation or retreat is like taking a mega-dose of peace and serenity, to fill up on the good stuff.  For me, the good stuff is remembering my connection to what I do and why I do it.  It's remembering to look through the lens of optimism, love and gratitude.  The longer I stay away from mega-dosing, the dustier the lens becomes, yet it's through connecting to a daily ritual that stops it from going away altogether.


The ancient yogis and sages knew this.  They had these enlightened states and sought to stay that way always...not just on the weekends.  So they would dive fully and completely into their practice.  Nowadays that means being in the frame of mind that you have on the mat to taking it off the mat and into all moments. It begins by taking a daily dose of goodness first thing in the morning.  That alone will set the tone for good vibrations throughout the day.


Give it a try.  Get up in the morning and find some peace and quiet for a few minutes.  Reflect into what you're grateful for and what you have to look forward to that day.  At the end of the day, as you're unwinding toward sleep, reflect again on how much abundance was in your day and how you affected others.  It can't help but you give mini-bhakti high...go on...give it a try!

First World Problem

The sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon and the local mountains reflect its rays in glowing shades of pink.  A stillness is slowly awakening to the dawn of a new day.  I sit crossed legged on my meditation cushion and begin to settle into my daily morning practice.  I find my breath and begin to surrender to the moment.

Barup, pup, pup, pup...barup, pup, pup, pup...barup, pup, pup, vroooommmm begins the sound of a leaf blower.  In an instant I begin to tense my jaw and within another I begin to snicker inside as I think, "the gardeners are here during my meditation time! Oh, the gall".   The realization in the next moment is that I am sitting inside a beautiful house on a cushy cushion with cool air-conditioning in the middle of a hot summer and I have a garden that is maintained by gardeners!  How blessed!  The initial agitation is a reflection of a first world problem.

As I began to think about how much ease we have in an abundant society, I began to notice first world problem situations everywhere.    


While standing in line waiting to pay for our parking following a Jason Mraz concert a woman was complaining to her friend about how her son was on a wait list for AYSO (American Youth Soccer Orangization) team.  She was indignant that she hadn't received an email in time to register and proceeded to read the entire email to her friend (who wasn't the only person within earshot) over the next 10 minutes. She was loud and adamant that this situation was not okay. She'd volunteered multiple times in the past.  She put in her time and her kid was likely to be sitting on the sidelines as a spectator.


What exactly is a first world problem and why does it matter?  I think of a first world problem as one that is experienced in wealthy, industrialized societies.  The problem seems so drastic that it not only serves as an inconvenience but is a true disruption to our quality of life.  First world problems are complaints and frustrations that don't exist or are unlikely to occur in the third world due to the simple truth of not having access to education, financial abundance or opportunity.  Some of our first world problems wouldn't even make sense in a third world.  


Last weekend my nephew was coming to meet us at my Mother's house for a visit.  Along the way his car broke down along US101, a busy freeway that runs through Los Angeles.  We got a call asking if we could help and within an hour we had called roadside assistance, driven 20 minutes to meet my nephew, got his car loaded onto a tow truck and off he went with a plan to fix his tweaked alternator.  As he was waiting for us he had found a place with the right spare part for his Volvo which was still open and was able to find a solution.  We made it back to Mom's place in time to take her out for dinner (although we missed the company of our car-repairing nephew).  Total first world problem.


We have ease and access.  We have ways of solving problems that in developing worlds could alter the course of someones life.  Yet, so often we fail to remember what we have.  When someone has to wait on an internet shopping item because it's backordered...first world problem.



My thought for the week is to whine less and appreciate more.  To remember the many faces of people who truly have a tough time of it on a daily basis.  Their entire lives are not easy.  To remember that when I think things are going badly or are difficult, to realize that I have choice and an ability to express myself freely.


I must remember my good fortune and realize I have first world blessings instead.