Saturday, March 28, 2015

Perseverance


It is said that each of us comes into this life with a purpose and that we each have our own unique way of expressing who we are.  My thought for the week is more a question, "How do you express yourself?" 

When I think about that question, I feel a sense of creativity that underlies the answer.  To express my deepest inner self I need to find an outlet by which to do so.  For me, it has largely been through the use of the body, movement and choreography.  As I've gotten older another channel has been opening up...writing.  When I first began this weekly column of "My Thought of the Week" it was a way of staying connected to students from around the world. Palm Springs is a seasonal locale with folks visiting during the winter from Canada, the Northwest of the US and many other places.   As I returned to Australia for various visits, workshops and retreats, my network expanded and creating a weekly "thought" was a way of staying in the loop with a student population that ebbed and flowed.

What this meant was that I needed to create, on a weekly basis, something new and, hopefully, relevant and interesting.  On many occasions, I sat down to write my weekly and feel I have nothing to say. I sit wondering if anything will emerge and try to avoid the temptation of retreating to past writings to save that moment of suffering for lack of inspiration.  Yet what I've learned through this process, is to broaden my scope throughout the week, to seek themes and trust my instinct.  Part of this bubbling up of ideas comes from doing nothing to make it happen.  The more I search and try to force a topic, the less authentic it seems to feel.

I would bet that most of us sit before a project of creation feeling the same way...what will arise, if anything?

Part of the process is becoming comfortable with the uncomfortable and the unknown.  It's partly just letting the words fly onto the page and editing later.  It's allowing ourselves to take those first steps to ignite the process and then opening ourselves completely to what flows out of us.  And that's a key word...flow.

When you see someone who is in a creatively expressive process or performance it appears to be effortless, as though anyone could do it, they make it seem easy...it just flows. Our impression is that they're just one of those "gifted" people who has inherent talent and only needs a canvas onto which to express themselves.  But we know that those who have produced breathtaking works have been able to do so because of perseverance and discipline.  An accomplished author once said to me, "just write a page a day...every day".  Hence, the discipline and hard work it takes to actually bypass the fear of it being lousy and simply starting.  That journey that begins with a single step is reflected on all creative paths.

The next piece of just beginning is to drop judgment of what initially emerges. Perhaps we nail it on the first attempt, but more likely it's the seed that gets planted, then fertilized, then weeded before it' s plucked for consumption.

So my thought of the week is to encourage all of us who have that spark to allow it to blaze our path, even if it smolders initially, to keep going.  Let your passion drive you over the bumpy bits and trust that what you have to express is a reflection of your unique expression. This is what keeps us interested and interesting...go for it!

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Fully Present


Many of my past blogs have been focused on finding our breath, staying in the present moment, uni rather than multi-tasking and slowing down.  This was my teaching theme for this past week, reminding ourselves to be fully present and completely in the moment.  Then the ironic thing happened. At the end of one of my workdays during this week of practicing being fully present I was getting out of the car  and dropped an empty glass tea container which smashed upon landing on the cement floor, spreading small pieces of glass under the car landing like a a halo from the crash site.  So, following a long work day, I had to sweep up the glass before heading inside to finally relax.

Then the same thing happened the very next morning.  I had a few extra minutes in my usual morning routine and thought I could squeeze in a few extra tasks.  This inevitably put me behind schedule so when I went to put my glass container back into the fridge...yup, I dropped it, smashing glass all over the place as I stood there in my pajamas and bare feet.  Thankfully my husband Ed was around to help me clean up the shards that had once again created a halo around my feet.  He said, "what happened?"  to which I replied, "I just need to slow down".  Oh.  That.

Here I am all week long, working and teaching the idea of being fully within the moment, completely behind  what we are doing whether it be a yoga pose or repeating a statement of loving-kindness.  And it becomes obvious that, once again, I am teaching what I need to be practicing.  The Universe gave me my first sign to slow down and do less with the first glass breaking to which I was obviously oblivious. The second sign, not so subtle, broken glass, small trickle of blood on my foot and now I'm truly running behind schedule.  "Okay" I said to the Universe, "I hear you...I will take a deep breath and try to slow down."

How many cues do we miss on a daily basis?  It's incredibly easy to understand why these fore-warnings seem almost invisible as we are distracted by our own daily grind.  It's an energy that we create and continue to manifest, so how do we listen to the cues and actually take action?  Well, I'm obviously no expert given the above story, but what I do know is that I heard it loud and clear on the second warning.  I do know that to become more mindful, to immerse in the present moment fully and completely, we need to be aware and to practice being here and nowhere else.

We know we're not fully present when we find ourselves reflecting on the past, going over what happened, how we felt, what he/she said or when we are contemplating what is yet to happen.  We can be lying on our yoga mat wondering what to cook for dinner, how busy the traffic might be on the way home or wondering what to wear to that wedding in December.  We miss the moment of being right where we are and silence and stillness are tricky like that. When things slow down we can perceive them as uneventful, even boring. We are so habituated to sound, action, movement and distraction that we no longer even know how to be comfortable with just being. And that's why we practice.

We practice sitting still and focusing on just one thing, like our breath to remember what it's like to not have a constant tornado sounding off in our heads.  We practice to recognize all the sensations that arise in our body both in motion and when lying still.  We practice because we want to not be just "human doings" all of the time, but to be present in the multitude of moments that exist now...each second of every single day.

The cool thing is, that when you actually begin to remember silence, stillness and practice doing less, you begin to crave it.  You begin to recognize how much noise and chaos is inherent in daily life and remember that we have opportunities to not just be on one frantic wavelength.  We have times when we absolutely need to be moving quickly. The truth is, we can only do one thing at a time, perhaps in quick succession, but only a single thing whether it be breathing, talking, making dinner or working on our devices.  We can be completely mindful of doing whatever we are doing and perhaps realize that not all can be completed at once, that we can find joy in being fully present to the moment we are experiencing.

I promise to slow down and to hopefully not receive anymore Universal love taps of breaking glass.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Darkness and Light



Take a good look at the above symbol of yin-yang.  This symbol is rooted in Taoism/Daoism, a Chinese religion and philosophy. Although its roots are in China, its meaning and symbolism resonate within the practices of yoga as well. The yin, the dark swirl, is associated with shadows, femininity, and the trough of a wave; the yang, the light swirl, represents brightness, passion and growth. In yoga, we look at seemingly opposites such as Shiva and Shakti (masculine and feminine energies) as well as two of the three main meridians known as the ida and pingala nadis. These channels of energy represent the sun and moon as well as hot and cold; action and passivity; introversion and extroversion.

Some might initially perceive the yin-yang symbol as representing two separate and opposing entities, perhaps even as far as the often sinister interpretation of darkness as holding evil and the ethereal white lights as having purity.  However, the two coming together are representing connection and wholeness, rather than opposing forces.

Within the dark yin is also a circle of light which can be interpreted as that even in the most challenging, difficult and darkest of times, light always can be found to be present.  And within the brilliant white is a reminder of the dark circle to hint that lying within radiance darkness is also present.  It's an accepting of the whole.

Yoga and meditation teaches us to look at what is present in each and every moment.  It teaches us to be with what is without trying to alter, ignore or push it away.  Just because we may not like what we see, we can't deny it's existence.  It doesn't mean that we need to embrace or condone what lies in the shadows, but to not be ignorant of its presence.

Along the path of our own evolution, we slowly peel away layers of our own lives.  It's not that we need to bring peace into our hearts but we need to remember that peace is already within. Throughout our lives, we collect layers of armor, like dust building up on a mirror, that stop us from seeing the light within.  We can go for years with an underlying sense that life is difficult, that we need to be fixed, to redeem ourselves to feel worthy and become "better". But yoga teaches us to slowly take a duster to the mirror and look through the darkness.  It teaches us to observe our thoughts and recognize that most of what we think might not even be true.  It teaches us to trust an inner, deeper sensibility that inherently knows our own light.

From the other side, it also teaches us not to be all love and light all the time.  We need discernment, we need a filter, sometimes we need to find fierce courage and we need to honor those dark moments that we face.  In those times when we feel agitated and less than connected, we honor where we are without feeling that we are less than pure or less of a yogi/yogini to hold darkness.  

In recognizing both the darkness and the light we connect to the whole.  We realize that these states are not separate from each other, but rather completely embracing of each other.  Our yoga and meditation practices teach us that as individuals we too are not disconnected but an integral part of the whole.  When we look into our own darkness and realize the light we begin to not only see it and accept it within ourselves but to do the same in others.

Allow yourself to embrace the whole of you and the whole of all beings...in darkness and in light.

Monday, March 2, 2015

The Lesson Lies Within

Hands on Heart

Sometimes I get asked the question "Why do I keep attracting people/situations like this into my life?". Usually this question is posed when the asker of the question is confronted with something that is undesirable and/or challenging. Have you ever found yourself repeatedly living out familiar scenarios only to have the characters change? The familiar pattern of difficultly that pushes your buttons and sends you over the edge screaming, "Why does this always happen to me?"


We have repeated patterns of behavior, our inherent default program, that we step into time and time again. In the yoga framework these patterns or "brain ruts" are known as samskaras. It is thought that when we repeat the same choices we deepen these brain ruts. Over the years, these ruts become deeper and more established, until we recognize that we seek something to change. In order for the change to occur, we first need to be conscious of the behavior. 


This is where our yogic path provides us with the many tools to begin to awaken to those beliefs and choices and allows us to ask the question, "Is this serving me? Is this supportive of who I am? Is this how I am choosing to be in the world?". Things won't change unless we choose them to do so. And this means that we have to pay attention to the sometimes very subtle cues that lead us into the same brain rut. We do have the power to create new samskaras by making consciously different choices. 


More specifically we learn to pay attention to the quieter spaces in between all the noisy thoughts that crowd out introspection. If we fill our days and nights with too many things to do or we clutter our minds with distractions of gossip, worry or attachment it makes it really difficult to recognize that our patterns, although familiar and falsely permanent, can be changed. 


For example, take the driver who frequently displays road rage. They might be driving along and someone cuts them off or won't let them in. Wham...it's as if a switch has been flipped. They begin cursing, giving all others the clenched fist or "the bird" to help them feel vindicated. The "I'll show them" attitude might feel righteous in the moment, but what if every time somebody cuts them off or won't let them in, they react this way? Is that still serving them? Are they choosing to live their lives from a place of anger? And does it trickle into other scenarios so the person who has 16 items in the 15 item express lane triggers the same reaction? 


Yoga teaches us to look at the lesson that lies within. It teaches us to ask the question, "Why do I react this way?" and "What is this teaching me?" For the road rager, the answer might be that the reaction is not about other drivers but by some unfulfilled need in another aspect of their lives. That they have issues around anger and that their practice is one of patience and compassion. 


When we're faced with greater challenges such as natural disaster, the death of someone close or tough economic times we can ask the same questions rather than stepping into the familiar of "Why me?" and ask, "Why not me? What am I meant to learn from all of this?" 


OK grasshoppers...see what lessons are lying within you this week?