Dynamic Practice

As Benjamin Franklin said, "In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes". Thanks, Ben, that sounds like a real downer even if it is true. Life changes and in response to that and in relationship to our yoga practice, we must change with it. Not only is our yoga practice dynamic, but so is our life...we don't live in a static state but in the ebb and flow, like ocean tides. If we have the quiet expectation that things will remain the same or live in a state of denial that all is temporary, inevitably we will create a deeper sense of suffering for ourselves.

The focus of this week is to address how we react to the dynamic nature of our being, particularly as we age, face injury or illness, or have a major life challenge such as marriage, death, retirement, or financial uncertainty. As I contemplated this ever-evolving and often unpredictable state, two words came up: challenge and change.

When a challenge shows up in our lives, we need to change what we're doing in order to adapt to the challenge. We could do nothing, but that's likely to be a short-sighted choice. For example, if we find out we have arthritis and keep doing the same movements and eating the same foods, it's likely our pain will continue and increase. If we know we now have to be more aware and gentle to ourselves, it can lead to significant changes in our activity. We may do a bit less, or change the amount of impact across the joint, eat an anti-inflammatory diet, or use an alternative method of pain management. The "doing nothing" scenario may eventually lead us to take more drastic measures--stopping activity altogether or getting a joint replacement.

As the challenge presents itself, can we mindfully and in a compassionate way adapt what we've been doing to something that now accommodates this newer and unfamiliar state?

Although it's a bit tough to admit, since I'm a yoga/wellness/fitness professional, I've had my own challenges over the past twelve months. I irritated my knee playing pickleball, then found out instead of it being a torn meniscus, it was osteoarthritis. Subsequently, my foot (on the same side) began to have pain in the plantar fascia (sole of the foot). The result was that I needed to do something that felt uncomfortable...take a rest from one of my regular activities of road cycling. This hiatus from activity challenged the mental paradigm that has been embedded in my psyche from years of training myself and others. The one that says if you're not doing X then Y will happen...if I don't get enough cardiovascular exercise, the "10,000 steps" mantra, then I'll get out of shape, or gain weight, or develop more diseases, or have insomnia. My mental battle was more challenging than the physical one. Letting go of what I thought I needed to be doing to create space for what actually served me was challenging.

The second challenge began around the same time as I had increased levels of fatigue, which felt a lot like depression. Turns out I had a resurgence in the Epstein Barr Virus I've had for many years. During my summer hiatus, it became evident that I needed to do something a bit different as I stepped back into my "regular" world. As a result, the challenge of fatigue and inflammation in my knee and foot led me to a drastic new way of being. Now, I have a firm policy to be lights out by 10 PM and if I don't need to wake up early, I don't set an alarm. I've been allowing myself to sleep as long as needed, and at times, this has meant sleeping through my morning exercise or desk work. And so be it. Sleep became the priority. My return to better health became the priority. 

An "advanced" yogi is one who can recognize what they need on a particular day and wrap specific practices around themselves, rather than wrapping themselves around a particular practice. The dynamic nature of being human will be constant and we can evolve our awareness to match our needs to the present moment. The bottom line with all of this is to hold ourselves softly, with kindness and compassion. It's a powerful act of self-love. 

We know that things will change, are you ready to go with it?

Be Scared

The theme this week is not related to Halloween or about having the pants spooked off of us. It's about taking the plunge toward doing something that scares us. I had two of those experiences this past week.

To begin with,  I entered my very first photojournalism contest. I've been an avid photographer for the past 40 plus years and never have I entered any of my images, of which I've taken thousands, into a contest. The main reason for my hesitation is I am scared of being judged. The feelings of not being good enough, especially when compared to others runs deep, so much so, that I've avoided it until this time. And I was somewhat happy with my entry...it felt rushed and could have been better thought out, but that was my own fault for misreading the entry requirements, working on the entry from a different angle and having to hurry to put it in before the deadline. I almost didn't. I almost, once again, thought "Well...it won't win. All the others look like pros and why bother...?" But I did it anyway. I fell into the fear and thought it was a worthy hurdle to jump, so I did.

The second happened this past weekend as my small band, Jayne and The Om Boys, played a musical event (Kirtan) to mark the Autumnal Equinox and raise money for a local charity. I play harmonium and sing the lead (call) part of the music, to which everyone else sings back (the response). So I'm sitting in front of everyone and singing in public. Another moment to be completely terrified of being judged as not good enough. Thankfully, I'm supported by amazing musicians and have now been doing this for a few years so the fear is less, largely because I sense the benefit in the practice and the charitable nature is much stronger than the fear. I remember the very first time I was asked to sing mantra on my harmonium at a friend's house where she was having a meditation event. My hand was shaking as I placed it on the keyboard. I silently wondered how I would ever be able to play, but a few deep breaths and closing my eyes got me through it.

This week is about finding something that scares us (that we choose) and coming to meet it face-to-face. Solo travel? Going to the movies or out to dinner by yourself? Asking for a raise or promotion? For me, it's even deeper than just sharing photos or singing. It's about healing some of my soul story, the karma that I've carried into this lifetime and is based around my throat chakra...the place of expression and creativity. Whether you're into bringing stuff from past lives into the current one or not, I've felt that my throat has been tied up for years. I used to get laryngitis at least a couple of times each year, went through speech therapy to correct the issue and learned for the first time, that I didn't know how to use my voice. Apparently, I was shut down and unable to express myself previously as well as not being given credit for creating certain things. So I guess I'm making up for it in this lifetime...singing, chanting, public speaking, teaching, photography, choreography, and writing are all connected to the energy of my throat. 

I am trying to learn to trust this part of who I am as being whole and worthy...and that's what makes it so terrifying. The healing of past wounds can be quite uncomfortable, yet within the fear awaits magnificent potential for positive change and evolution. So try this practice on for a week and notice what scares you into almost not doing something and then see if you can look below it...why does it feel that way? I bet that once we take a good look at feeling vulnerable, we can sense that our drive to overcome it is greater than the fear itself.

Feel the fear and do it anyway. It's okay to be scared!

Travel Light

My thought of the week was born a few weeks ago when I ran into a friend of mine who had recently completed the CDT (Continental Divide Trail). I had been following his trip which involved four months of solo hiking. About five years ago, he completed the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail) which runs from Mexico to Canada, another amazing feat. So when I saw him, I stopped to welcome him back to the desert and asked how he was settling in. We got into a great conversation about being overwhelmed by people and things, as well as how parts of the trip went. He said initially it was all about finding the perfect gear...lightweight and efficient. He was traveling without a cook stove and ate everything raw and would binge on cooked foods when he came into towns.

As the journey progressed, he realized that he needed less and less. He then said, "We pack what we fear". I asked him to explain more fully as I was completely intrigued by this statement. Basically, he said, you pack more food if you think you'll be hungry, more water if you think you'll be thirsty and more clothes, well, just in case. It's the "just in case" scenario that begins to weigh you down. He said the lighter he became he recognized how resourceful he was and could be completely self-reliant.

It reminded me of the time I spent six months backpacking through Africa. I had minimum clothes: two pairs of shorts, two t-shirts, lightweight pants, raincoat, a pair of heavier pants, visor, some underwear, a bathing suit, and a sarong. We had some cooking gear (no stove), tent, Swiss Army knife, a sleeping bag, and mat but not much else. I had bought a one-way ticket to Harare, Zimbabwe and had no plans. I've told many people that those months were the freest I've ever felt in my life. It was light and I had no agenda or expectation.

Humans have been walking this earth since time began, often as nomads which meant that traveling light was essential. We've lost touch with this part of our DNA with our Western culture as having less is often equated with being unsuccessful. We stuff ourselves full of things in search of connection or approval. So when I hear about my friends hiking adventures, I can relate to the simplicity it offers and, in turn, the reconnection it can bring.

Another sign to travel light came to me recently when my sister, niece, husband and I were at my Mother's house preparing it for an estate sale. Mom has dementia and is in an assisted living facility so it's time to manage the house that we grew up in and where she lived in for 54 years. It was overwhelming as Mom is an organized pack-rat. Every possible place that something could be stored was filled. As we donated bags of clothing, my niece begged my sister (her Mom) to not do this to her. 

Lastly, my husband and I are downsizing so we have put our house on the market to find something smaller and, in the process, have been decluttering. Both of us agree that having less clutter feels good and we intend not to refill the house with anything, if possible. 

As I've been working on simplifying my life over the past three years, one of the starting points was decluttering. It began in a small way and has progressed to making bigger changes. So my thought of the week is to ask ourselves when we're bringing something into our lives, do we need it? Do we love it? If the answer is yes, then go for it! If the answer is no, then begin to explore why you're saying yes to it. It may be a physical item or saying yes to a commitment of some kind. One of the presenters in my "Simple Year" course spoke about getting out of credit card debt. One of her experiments was to not buy anything new for a year. Yep...a whole year beyond the necessities (food, shelter). I have tried this experiment for a month and it has been much easier by decreasing the amount of browsing done to websites, particularly ones that offer incentives for joining their email list. Buy another item and get free shipping, receive an extra 10% off etc...you know the deal. Upshot-unsubscribe, unsubscribe, unsubscribe!

Ultimately this leads to another possible blog topic of conscious consumerism. The more conscious we become of our behaviors the more we can find peace in our choices. 

So, are you about to hit that "purchase" button? Pause and think if it will lighten your load and help you travel more easily through life. Now that's a challenge!

Move To The Center

In previous blogs, I have mentioned that if I have a cluster of images or signs show up, I tend to pay attention to them. Over the past several days, I kept coming to the image of a wheel, or a circle with a dot in the center of it. I felt that the center point, or what would be the axis of a wheel, is symbolic for "the now moment" and that the space that moves away from it contained within the circle, is the actions and thoughts of our lives. The center is in stillness, yet what is surrounding it is in motion. When we realize that we are no longer present and have been pulled toward the periphery, our practices of yoga, contemplation, slow living, and meditation are ways to move back to the center.

Often times it is anxiety, stress, fear, uncertainty, depression, or grief that pulls us away from the still point. Those emotional states can rapidly yank us out of the center point with so many of us spending vast slabs of time swimming around in it. They have a powerful pull and, like most people, I wasn't taught how to come back to a calm place so I would stay paddling around in swinging emotional states. Think of those people who seem to always have some drama going on in their lives. If people are a "hot mess" it might simply be because they've never been shown a way to come to the present moment. They know no other way of being.

My approach to yoga over the years has evolved from being one of a physical practice where heading to a class three times each week was "doing yoga" to realizing this is a way of being in life. The path never ends with the practices changing as we change. We are quite fortunate to have living masters of the "now". When I think of people who live in the center of the moment, Pema Chodron, Thich Nhat Hanh, Eckhart Tolle, and His Holiness the Dalai Lama come to mind. They have been in such deep and dedicated practices over their lifetime that the center is where they spend the majority of their time. They may get pulled out toward the periphery, but are masterful at returning to the present moment. I'm grateful that I have stayed with my practice over the past several years, and so often, I feel like a neophyte finding my way. But what I've gotten so much better at is noticing when I've been pulled out to the periphery and now have ways to return to my center.

This past week in classes, we have been using the five senses to come back into the present moment. You can try this and see if it resonates with you. Sit or lay on your back and begin by exploring the sense of touch. Notice what your body is touching, how your clothes touch your body, how the air in the room passes over your skin and how the breath brushes the nostrils as you breathe in. Next, notice the sense of smell. What aromas are wafting past? Do they come from your own self-care products, a nearby stick of incense, or onions being sautéed? Move onto the sense of taste, noticing any residual flavors in the mouth. With the sense of sight, if your eyes are closed what do you see behind the lids? An array of colors like the Northern Lights or a dark night sky? And finally, listen to any sounds in your environment...stomach gurgling, swallowing, breathing. How about background noise in the space you're in? How far away can you detect sound?

Once you've spent a short time scanning the senses, is there one which you can easily sense? If yes, let that be your practice for the next week. Use this sense as a conduit back to the center of the present moment. The sense of sound is an easy one for me as I notice all sound arising and falling away. If I need to center myself, chanting 108 mantras or humming a song brings me back.

The challenge for all of us is to recognize the moment when we're doing laps around the outer edges of the present moment, rather than being in it. In that magical moment of awakening, we can use our senses to move back to the center. Everything that you sense in your body is happening in the now. 

Try it out and let me know how it goes! Ommmmmmmmm!