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!

Equinox

It seems I am called to pay attention to the cycles of the seasons and the moon. We have just passed the equinox, the Autumnal Equinox in the Northern hemisphere and the Vernal Equinox in the Southern hemisphere. These are the turning points, the halfway marks between the Solstices which are the longest and shortest days of our year. As the equinox glides by, we notice that the daylight and nighttime hours are about the same and it's because the sun is moving about the level of the equator. And as the world is tilted and rotates, this changes as we approach the most dramatic changes of light at the Solstices. In the Northern hemisphere, our days are now getting shorter, we have left the dragon's fire of summer and are turned toward the fall and winter season. Of course, the opposite is true in the Southern hemisphere.

In paying attention to these seasonal shifts, it reminds us to notice the balance between darkness and light. It's as though we have this moment of stillness before tipping towards change. Traditionally, the Autumnal Equinox in the north has been a time of celebrating the harvest and abundance that the summer crops have yielded. It's a time when the fields, orchards, and trees come to rest and seeds are dropped into the earth. We are headed toward a dormancy only to be awakened in six months at the Vernal Equinox. But for now...things get quieter and we rest.

We also just passed the full moon and I asked my husband if he remembered where we were on the previous full moon. After a few moments, he remembered we had just watched the sunset over the Indian Ocean in Western Australia; it was dusk and we were heading away from the coast as the bright full moon rose up over the horizon. And as it happened, we spotted a kangaroo coming out for its dusk foraging and provided a most memorable scene (photo below)! It's during the full moon that we see manifestation, where what we've planted during the dark New Moon shows itself. And this too is another natural cycle that is an invitation for checking in to see if we're living in alignment with how we wish to be in the world.

  

This equinox prompted me to think about Sutra 2.46 from Patanjali. Only three of the 196 aphorisms in the Sutras talk about the physical practice of yoga, the "asana" or postures that we practice. It also means that these three references to the physical practice are loaded and is 2.46 "Sthira Sukham Asanam". It can be translated as "right effort", "steady and comfortable". The Sthira is also thought of as "alertness or strength" and the Sukham as "relaxation or surrender." Asanam is the root word for "posture/pose" so when you hear the instruction of moving into Tadasana, Sukhasana or Savasana you have a clue that it pertains to something physical in nature.

Within each pose, we can find the effort and, at the same time, the release. I call this moment of balance within the pose the still point, as it's that moment when everything feels compatible, at ease, and steady...just like the energy of the equinox. Early on in my yoga practice, I was in a Warrior Two pose, a strong lunge position, and my teacher, Murray, said to me, "Jayne...can you stay just as you are?" and then called the class over to my mat. He then asked the class to "look at my face" and in my own curiosity, I was trying not to make a face as others looked at mine. Then Murray said, "Can you see how relaxed her face is?". I hadn't tried to relax my face, it was simply a result of finding the balance between effort and letting go, so no extra tension was seen on my facial expression. Unknowingly, it was my first introduction to Sthira Sukham Asanam and, although I was "working" the pose, I wasn't striving to make it more than what was happening in that moment.

This is a challenge for so many of us...we are taught that we need to work hard, push through pain, leave it all out on the court and do that little bit more or else we're deemed lazy or apathetic. We aren't encouraged to find ease in the process, so finding "right effort" is something we can certainly explore through our practice. We also don't want to be sloppy and disconnected from our experience, giving less than, but to look for the sweet spot of equanimity.

A couple of things to notice during your asana practice to see if you're in balance is to notice micro-tensions, particularly in the facial muscles (clenching teeth, squinting, furrowing the brow) and to see if you can sense your breath without struggle.

As we honor the cycles of the seasons, whether we're welcoming spring or fall, take some time to reflect back to the previous equinox and see what has manifested in your own garden. Perhaps now we can stop tilling the soil for a bit, let ourselves celebrate all that has grown in our lives, and look forward to the next season.

Judgment

It was over 20 years ago that I first saw Deepak Chopra speak. It was at a gig in Melbourne. I went alone and remember having a seat that was fairly high up in the auditorium. Much of what he was talking about went way over my head...quantum physics and the like. However, one thing he said then was a true nugget for me and has stuck with me over the years. It spoke of finding the gap between our thoughts. At the time, I thought "there is no gap between my thoughts...what is he talking about." He said that within the gap is where insight happens...and that had me hooked. Of course, now I know more about what he was talking about as I have a steady meditation practice which allows me to know that gaps exist. How much time I'm able to actually stay there is a whole other thing, but I know it to exist.

This past weekend, Deepak was a key presenter at Bhakti Fest. It was his first visit to the high desert festival on its 10th anniversary. I sat in on three of his sessions and was treated to another nugget...some 20+ years later. He said that a key aim of our yoga practice is to be able to "observe ourselves, without judging ourselves." By doing this we are led to Moksha, often translated as freedom. When we can drop into that inner space of self-reflection and inquiry, we begin to release the entanglement to our thoughts and get to know the truth of who we really are. As he spoke, this particular thought felt as though he had just thrown me another nugget. I'm hoping that it won't be another 20+ years until the next one, but this one is a great thought for the week.

We have a given. We're human. We're judgmental. It's our nature and, deepened through conditioning, we toss judgment at not only at others but ourselves as well, often in a more harsh and stinging way. I don't know of many people that upon awakening, look in the mirror, beam and exclaim "Well, good morning Sunshine!" We are sold on the myth that something in us is broken and needs improving. We are sold on the belief that we need to change who we are as what we are isn't enough. Whether we are "sold" on these notions or we are programmed to have a negative bias are ideas that can be debated. Nonetheless, as I explore this path, I'm trying to re-frame that thinking to remembering that who and what I am is enough. I just need to get away from distractions in order to listen to my inner wisdom. It all sounds so simple, and yet, it is an amazing challenge.

I am also struck when people make comments about somebody being "good" at yoga. They may be talking about a person's ability to strike a pose that so many of us would never even get close to doing. I like to say that nobody is good or bad at yoga. We all practice yoga, and where the practice takes us is to those places where we are deeply challenged. Some things come more easily to some people and others may find the identical thing to be difficult. An example of this is I can do a handstand, all by myself, in just about any location with a somewhat level surface. I have been turning myself upside down ever since I can remember, and being inverted and viewing the world from that perspective feels comfortable to me and is "easy".  Now, if I did a handstand in the middle of a class, some people might look at it and think, "wow...she's really good at yoga" and I get that. What many people might miss are the things that are hard for me. The physical element of yoga has always been the easiest part of the practice for me. Quieting my mind, finding stillness, self-love, and acceptance has been hard. I stepped onto my yoga mat with none of those abilities and realized that I needed something beyond the physical practice. So my being "good" at yoga is a myth...I practice what I need to remember the most, what is the least accessible and that's the path of going inward.

So, as we release the judgment piece of the practice, we step into greater presence and curiosity. As Walt Whitman said, "Be curious, not judgmental". This past week, I've been encouraging students to watch how often self-judgment arises and to notice what may have triggered it. And then, to get deeply inquisitive about what's happening in the experience and see if we can adopt the observer role with an open heart, rather than the role of judge.

What Would You Like To Learn?

I'm a curious person and always have been. I want to know how things work, how they're structured, their design, and what materials are used to make it all happen. I love learning about the design of tiny homes, I wanted to know all the steps when our pool was being built, and I continue to learn Sanskrit and mantra. And like many others, I feel that I'm a lifelong student and spend several hours each week reading and deepening my own personal library of knowledge. In yoga, this is known as "Svadyaya" or self-study and it's one component to the lifelong practice of yoga.

I also like to listen to different podcasts and, as I was doing so recently, the question of "What would you like to learn?" was asked. Following on from the theme from last week, that of recreating my schedule and commitments for the upcoming season and how I'm willing to "dive in", this seemed to be a fantastic follow-up question...what is it that I'm wanting to learn at the moment? Part of my current learning is to listen deeply to my own cues. I'm needing to better manage my energy expenditure and am trying to perhaps "un-learn" some default patterns and approach myself from a more compassionate and less judgmental place. It's okay for me to not do every single thing I think I "should" be doing. So I'm trying to learn to cut myself some slack.

But my thought of the week is coming from a slightly different place, one of inspired learning that ignites the creative side of who we are. I am well aware of how simply being alive is a constant lesson. The many challenges that we face, the difficult realities that being human entails such as loss, transition, change, and grief...all of these life lessons teach us something. All of us can reflect into those difficulties and pull out of them what it taught us, but this week instead of using suffering as our teacher, let's look to that one thing that we've been yearning to know more about from a place of choice rather than from a place of what is thrown at us through daily living.

As I asked myself the question of "what do I want to learn" I kind of drew a blank. Nothing seemed to be screaming at me so I simply asked myself the question and handed it over to the Universal grid of energy. I was taught in ninth grade English that when writing an essay, to put if off to the side for a couple of days and then pick it up again.  It works as you tend to see it with fresh eyes after letting go of it for a bit. The same thing happened with me asking the question of what I wanted to learn. 

As it happens, when in Australia, being an avid photographer, I had my DSLR camera out and dropped the lens cap. I watched it roll around in a circle and then drop in the space between the planks of a boardwalk. Oops...So I ended up covering the lens with one of my socks for the remainder of the trip. Upon returning to the desert, I stopped into our local camera store, replacing my lens cap and happened to ask the question, "By the way, do you offer any photography workshops here?". The answer was, "Well, yes, actually we do and have our next happening in October". I smiled and said, "Perfect! Send me the details when you have them!" As I left the store, I felt that the letting go was actually opening a doorway to possibility and was happy for the potential outcome.

When we explore and learn from a curious and creative perspective, the result often connects us to doing something where inspiration is found. When we do what we love, we become focused and absorbed into it, often with time, space, judgment, and sense of self, dissolving. It's an act of meditation, one of being radically present with the current moment.

So know that whatever it is that opens up that channel of connection to something that you're truly wanting to explore, whether it's music, art, photography, being in nature or knitting, that those things are as much a part of our spiritual journey as sitting in silent meditation. They become the same thing...bringing us connected to the inspired part of who we are.

I'm curious to hear what you're wanting to learn...feel free to share!

Dive In

When I saw this water in the image above, all I wanted to do was dive in. Not surprisingly, this is Turquoise Bay at the Ningaloo Reef, Cape Range National Park in Western Australia. And yes, I did step into this idyllic water with mask, snorkel, and fins to explore what inhabited this pristine wilderness. I wasn't disappointed at its residents...abundant and varied reef fish, corals, and a sleek reef shark. My experience in stepping into waters such as these is that a certain surrender is needed as you feel the mood of the ocean's current tugging at your limbs and not to struggle against it. Part of the experience is hearing your breath through the snorkel as it offers immediate feedback as to how relaxed (or not) you are and also knowing that you're a visitor to these waters.

Throughout our time in Australia, I found myself diving into a few different bodies of water from the ocean to sacred pools. The sacred pools naturally fed by underground springs have been visited by aboriginals since they've walked this earth. It's said that they spray water from their mouths upon entering the pool to alert and ask permission from their ancestors to be there. I love the idea of asking permission of the land, water, air, and elders as it raises a level of consciousness that we don't often experience. Frequently, we stomp and splash our way in without much forethought, so slowing down and entering sacred space with eyes wide open is an inviting practice.

My thought of the week is around what it means to dive in, and it was inspired by a student saying I was "diving straight back into it" as I returned to teaching. In many ways, it hasn't felt like that at all but more like a stepping back into my California world with a sense of doing so slowly and with eyes wide open. I'm trying to carry what I learned from spending the past month immersed in nature, living simply, and exploring my environment.

My husband and I drove over 3100 miles (5100 Km) in just under three weeks and we often drove in silence. Not because we were in conflict or had nothing to say but more that we were simply enjoying being present. We didn't need anything else, whether it was a conversation, an audiobook, or music. Watching the endless roads, fringed by bursts of wildflowers, contrasted by the deep red ocher of the Australian outback was enough. We had many varied spots in which we found to meditate...most often outside overlooking the ocean or a gorge. We listened to the myriad of sounds that come from the natural environment...waves crashing, birds calling, the wind rushing. Each moment had its own unique offering and bursting with reminders of how easy it is to connect to the energy of all that's alive on this earth.

This time away has left me with the lesson to choose how I wish to be living. As I return to the States with the New Moon approaching, the seasons changing, and people returning to the desert, there's a sense of transition and tension. Anytime change happens it's accompanied by a pull of energies, the shift of the status quo. This is the perfect time for introspection and checking-in, prior to a greater possibility of busyness. This is the time that I get to re-create my schedule and think about how many commitments I can make without bankrupting my personal energy budget. I needed the downtime in Australia, the time for personal retreat and relaxation as I hadn't realized how fatigued I had become until I slowed down.

One lesson is to not blindly dive back into how I had been managing my energy prior to my break but to look at it from a place of compassion and consciousness and perhaps, switch things up a bit. I am grateful for the many sunrises and sunsets, for all the whales and dolphins, birds and wildflowers, and for all of those in my Aussie heart tribe. I am grateful to those who remained in the desert to look after our house, the yoga studio, and its participants. And I am most grateful for having the insight to give myself a good chunk of time away. Thanks for the lessons and I will hold the intention of diving back into things with my metaphorical mask and snorkel in place so I can hear my breath and see with clarity.

Retreat

It didn't seem to be much of a surprise to students in classes this week that my word of the week was "retreat". Next week, I am heading to Australia to not only offer two different yoga retreats but for a long personal retreat as well. I am hoping that I have learned my lesson well from 2017 when I was in Australia and ran a Restorative training workshop and two yoga retreats. In between all of that, I was visiting with many friends, which I love doing even though it zaps my energy, and took a three day break up along the coast north of Brisbane. I realized upon returning to the States and stepping straight back into running my business, that I hadn't allotted enough "me-time" space. I was grateful for my time down-under, but about halfway through our busy season, a quiet inner voice was asking for a reprieve.

Having taught for over 36 years, I have gotten to know that quiet inner voice whispering, "You need a break away from what you love to do...". And perhaps it's not such a quiet voice as the signs show themselves as having a shorter temper or not being excited by the upcoming day. Hmmph...when I get a bit grumpy, it's time to go away. So after I arrive in Australia next week and visit with friends, I'm driving up to a favorite spot along the coast and staying in a studio AirBnb...all by myself. Yep...nobody but me for company.

I have some ideas of what I might like to do, but I am also setting the intention to keep the space wide open. I have this way of seeing open space in my day and immediately filling it up with something on my "to-do" list. I'm retreating to practice simply staying open to what I need, rather than to what I think I "should" be doing. If I'm inspired to write...then I'll write. If I'm inspired to sleep, then I'll sleep. I'm nerdy curious to see how it all unfolds and super excited for the chance to take the time to do so.

The other intention is to simply be with me...in solitude. As spiritual seekers, finding equanimity in all things is part of the practice, and solitude is a test to see how much we wish to distract ourselves from being with ourselves. I'll report back (eventually) on how my experiment goes.

 I know the many benefits and experiences derived from taking ourselves out of the ordinary day and into a yoga retreat. Taking two or more days to explore and be immersed in a different aspect of our practice can have a long-lasting residue. In the retreats I offer we connect with others who are also looking to deepen their practice and take a break from ordinary daily life; we eat amazing and nourishing food; we take time to sit in silence; we practice the physical element of yoga; we relax and restore; and we spend time deeply connected to the physical environment. It nurtures us on all levels of our being and often gives us the open space to check-in with how we are wanting to spend time on this earth.

My thought of the week is to have us ask ourselves, "where have I made open space within my own life to be with myself?"  I realize not everyone is able to escape their daily lives by going away on retreat, so perhaps this is the time to look at where in your day you can come into a quiet space and be with yourself, even if it's only for a few minutes.  We can then turn away from the external world and drop into our inner world and in doing so, hit the refresh button so that when we return to our daily choices, we perhaps have a renewed and refreshed perspective.

Albert Camus (The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays) wrote:

"In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion."

Off I go to better understand the world and perhaps better understand myself. See you on the other side of it all!