Get Outside

I'm a tree-hugger. Yes, I said it and I will proudly own it. On our recent travels during my 8-week hiatus, we spent our last month in Northern California, in the small quaint town of Mendocino. We not only spent time with daily hikes along its coastal trails but had the honor to be in four different redwood groves. The first time we stopped in a grove was as we were driving along the highway toward Mendocino. I turned to my husband, Ed, and said..."Wow, it feels like we are driving past ancient wisdom." He replied, "Yes...do you want to stop?" As we pulled over and got out of the car, we walked not but 20 feet into the woods. We both looked up and around and then at each other, almost whispering, "It's SO quiet!" In that moment, we were both awestruck by the absence of noise.

And each subsequent trip into the redwoods, we noticed the same thing. We would often walk and sit in silence, just listening to the lack of sound. On one occasion, we heard the "whoosh, whoosh" of a bird's wings soaring above the tall trees. Our final visit was the day before we were to leave and just three days prior, a fire had broken out nearby. The smoke began to move toward the coast of Fort Bragg and Mendocino, so we decided to see what it was like in the redwood grove. 

As we descended deeper into the woods, the trees acted like a natural filter and the air was so much clearer than anywhere else we could have gone. Walking past these old-growth trees, I felt once again that I was in the presence of the elders, possessing a pearl of ancient wisdom and supreme resilience. I noticed throughout, how stumps from very large, old trees that had either been logged or burnt by fire, were encircled by younger trees, as though they stood like sentries around the former giant. It was like seeing the honor guard to what had died and in that, offering room, light, and compost for their growth. 

The experience was humbling and mystical. I walked along brushing my hands on the trees and ferns, silently saying "Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be here amid your legacy. Thank you for showing strength and beauty, despite adversity and challenge."

Forest bathing is a thing in Japan, where spending silent time in the forests supports good mental, spiritual, and physical health. A recent National Geographic article by George Stone, TRAVEL  Executive Editor stated "the Norwegians have delivered with the concept of friluftsliv  [pronounced free-loofts-liv], which roughly translates to "open-air living" and is deeply ingrained in the country's heritage." Being outdoors in nature is important to Norwegians, the fifth happiest country in the world, with a 2019 study finding that just two hours of time outside is enough to make you happier.

At a time when so many people worldwide have been locked down and feeling locked in, getting outside becomes a more profound experience. Many of us had plans to travel far and wide yet the pandemic reeled us in closer to home. Exploring California wasn't the plan we had made back in February of 2020. I was truly needing a break and listened to what I needed to help revive my weary self. My inner voice kept saying, "get to the ocean" and we not only heard the call but explored it as much as we could.

Upon my return to teaching, one comment I've received several times is that I look relaxed and calm. This is true. I am relaxed and calm as my soul has been deeply fed by being outside for close to seven weeks. The power and rhythm of the ocean, the sand between my toes, witnessing many forms of ocean life and birds, forest bathing amidst giant ancient redwoods, and sitting/walking in silence was good medicine.

My thought for the week is simple. Leave your four walls and get outside, even if it's opening a door and walking out onto a lawn, or barefoot on a deck. Notice the trees and maybe truly see them for the first time. If you can get further afield, take the time to do so. I can attest, it will feed your soul, connect you to your ancestry, and leave you with moments of awe that will never be forgotten.

Now. Stop reading...get outside!

Do Less

What is the saying? You need to see or hear something three times before you actually see or hear it? Well, if that's the case, I have now heard the call to "Do Less" on three separate occasions. The first was in 2006, as I was undertaking my yoga therapy studies. A fellow student and chiropractor said to me that I seemed to have only one speed...that of going full throttle, 110%. He asked what it would be like if I went at 70% and I looked at him as though he was speaking Icelandic. I didn't understand. What I knew at the time was I was born going full speed. Being the third of four children, for five and a half years, I was the youngest child. My Mom would say I "ran her ragged". She recounts how I was always "going, going, running around" and then, after I stopped, I'd fall asleep and then, once awake again would be "going, going, running around". I didn't even know that the possibility of a different speed or effort existed for me.

The second alarm about doing less came a couple of years ago when my Epstein Barr Virus re-activated. I had been cycling 3-4 times each week and found I simply wasn't recovering. I was tired and unmotivated. So, I did "do less" and switched over to walking rather than cycling. I interpreted this as meaning I was truly listening to the feedback my body had to offer and made a change.

The third sign? That happened during my recent 8-week hiatus. I've had a chronic back issue first diagnosed around 1992, so living with back pain felt like a "normal" part of my daily life. That is until the pain began to dial-up in December 2019. Yet, I pushed through the season of teaching, shifting onto Zoom with the onslaught of Covid-19, and had my back re-assessed in July. The feedback from that? Do less. 

Rats...I'm not very good at doing less. I have always been a "doer". I get stuff started and I get stuff done. When I have a goal, I typically not only reach it, but try to do so with the highest of quality. At times, this meant ignoring what my physical or mental self was telegraphing to me, being motivated to give it my all and make whatever "it" is outstanding.

So, when time number three tells me to do less and that part of my doing less meant to back away from most of the more physical aspects of yoga, it provoked anxiety. I'm lousy at doing less and feeling as though by doing so, I'll disappoint others. What if I'm not giving it my all? What if I say "no" to some things that I've always done and have become expected of me? What if I can't teach at all in the way I know how? What if this back pain gets worse and disabling? It was a rough couple of weeks when the "do less" message began to fully land.

As I've sat with that message now over a couple of months, the shift moved from the "what if/can't do" narrative to the what if I did things differently? What if I focused on me and what I need right now? What if I got creative and figured out a different pathway to teaching? At that point, I began to envision a plan of action. Change how much you physically do in your teaching life. Dedicate yourself to what you can to create more stability in your lumbar spine. Learn and consult with trusted experts. I realized I can do less of what's no longer serving me which, in turn, creates a spaciousness for what does. Consequently, part of that plan involves twice-daily sessions of core stability work which includes multiple plank variations. I'm so committed to this that I've got new calluses on my elbows to prove it!

And in the same breath, part of interrupting the busy-ness pattern, I'm offering myself grace to create more space. The past six months have not only been rife with change and loss, but that loss has a term...ambiguous loss.  To get through stressful times, many of us have lost our striving and motivation, relying on our "surge capacity" and apparently I am one of those many. Focused, ambitious, and motivated people have had feelings resembling depression as ambiguous loss is something we can't quite put our finger on and we don't have an end point in sight. Without that, resolution doesn't exist. Here's an insightful article by Tara Haelle that shed light on something I couldn't put my finger on. (click here Surge Capacity)

My thought for the week (and the past several weeks) has been to be okay with doing less. I'm trying not to repeat the pattern of returning home, going back to work, and piling on the to-do list. I'm trying to find grace in saying "no" to what overloads me, and "yes" to what nourishes me. And it isn't easy. No change is easy. It takes grit and discipline and courage. I think I have some of that, so now is the time to call upon it.

How about you? Do you need to do less?

Re-emergence

I am just returning from taking an 8-week hiatus from teaching and doing a few cartwheels along the way. This isn't the time away that we had planned. I canceled three retreats, two in Australia and one in Italy, as well as travel plans through Singapore and Greece. We were meant to be on the road for 10 weeks and, like many others, Covid-19 challenged our ability to let go and be adaptable.

What happened instead has been a reconnection to my childhood roots. Having grown up in Southern California, it was always a magical day to head off to the beach jammed in the back of a station wagon with neighborhood friends and a packed lunch. As we have spent the past 8 weeks exploring coastal California, I found myself reminiscing about those earlier days. Much of the childhood energy of the beach was present today. I guess that's where I first felt the power of the ocean and began my respect of Mother Earth.

Something about the ocean seeps into my soul. Perhaps it's the mesmerizing rhythm of the waves or how the beach is in a constant state of impermanence, it never looks the same and is in a state of change with each wave washing ashore. My husband and I spent literally hours walking along and staring at the ocean. We grew our knowledge of bird and ocean life, enjoyed the sparsity of people, and an abundance of fresh air. Not every day was a sunny day, some were laden with a heavy fog, giving a greater appreciation for when the sun burst out. Our vitamin D levels have been enhanced, our Achilles' tendons stretched and strengthened and our relationship deepened through long strolls and conversations.

The primary message I've received over this time is the importance of looking after myself and managing my needs. "Do less" has been the phrase that emerged. And as I say those words, putting them into action is definitely a challenge. I am pulled to serve others and, at times, ignore the messages from my own body. I have a few personal physical challenges, one of which is managing a long-time back issue which had gotten more painful over the past few months. The result is a stronger focus on doing less in my physical yoga practice and creating more core stability. I have too much movement in my lumbar spine which as a gymnast was a great thing but as a woman in her late 50's, not so great.

Students may notice a shift in my teaching as I re-emerge from this hiatus...I hope so. I've undertaken three courses of study over the past four months in pranayama with Judith Hanson Lasater, Ph.D., spinal health with Dr. Stuart McGill and Bernie Clark, and an anatomical Livestream human form dissection with Dr. Gil Hedley. I continue to be in my year-long mentorship as a Wisdom Keeper in Shamanism through Gaia Wisdom School. I trust these resources will show through in how I serve others.

I look forward to connecting with you and hearing what has been shifting in your world.

Before I go...I'll head to the beach a few more times, bowing to Mother Earth and Father Sky for the lessons and beauty. I'm listening.

The Toolbox & The Tree

This moment in some ways feels like the end of the semester and we're headed into the summer break. I've taught my last class and cleaned the studio as we've just completed 17 weeks of live online Zoom classes and it's time for me to take a respite and recharge. Quarantining, social unrest, a challenging economy, and a bunch of uncertainty has offered up a plethora of topics on which to focus over these past four months. The time is ripe for "doing our work" and it feels like we've all undertaken an extended course of study.

Yet, I know that many students feel stranded when their teacher isn't in front of them. I've had experiences, thankfully not that many, where I was subbing a class for another instructor, and upon entering the room their regular students would roll their eyes at the "sub" with even a couple of people leaving before I even began. We get attached to our teachers and our routine. And I am here to reassure you that if you've been coming to the mat with some level of regularity, all of the times you've been live with your teacher, have been embedded in your being, and now is the time to trust all that you know. An embodied practice is your toolbox. Think of every time you've been in savasana, the final relaxation pose of a class, and know that it's during this refractory period that what you have just undertaken is now finding its home within you.

The complementary part of this week's thought is "the tree". Recently, on a call with one of my best friends in Australia, she said I have been like a tree over the past four months as people have come to lean on me. Then she asked, "How are you feeding your tree?" Oooooh! I thought that was a rich question! I feed my tree by taking a good chunk of time off every year and look for someplace to put my feet in the ocean.

All of us are trees in some way - others may come to rely on us for support, some come under our shady canopy for refuge and solace, others admire how our branches are always searching for light and providing a playground for kids, birds, and other critters.

As Friedrich Nietzsche said, "For a tree to become tall it must grow tough roots among the rocks." I thought this to be a most appropriate quote as these times have been hard, our soil being less than optimal and rockier than we could ever have anticipated. We need to know how to dig into our toolbox in order to nurture and nourish our own tree. 

Self-care and recognizing what supports strong roots, solid trunks, and expansion takes a consistency of coming to our mat and asking the question, "What do I need to nourish me in this moment?" Over time, often years, we fill up our toolbox with a variety of skills, becoming deft at adapting the many practices to the present moment.

A couple of tips to stay connected to your practice when you're on your own is to: Roll out your yoga mat and simply get on it. Trust that if you get quiet and listen, asking yourself what you need in the moment, an answer will arise. Second, stick with your routine. If you always practice 9 am on a Monday morning, continue to practice at 9 am on a Monday morning. Keep it as part of your weekly schedule and stick to it. Third, perhaps recruit a yoga buddy and practice online with them. You can support, socialize, and hold each other accountable for sticking with it.

Ultimately, my job is to teach you about yoga and how it fits into your life. It's to open the doors to a deeper understanding of your own needs, to sharpen your inner listening skills, to support you in trusting your intuition, and to let you fly on your own. One image I have when trainees in a yoga teacher course are about to graduate is they are sitting on the edge of the nest and I have one foot at their backside, ready to give them a loving and gentle shove off the edge. They always seem to fly, some even soaring higher than anticipated.

It's time for you to fly. Open your toolbox and love on your tree.

You are so worth it. You can do it. I believe in you.

Integration

Can you visualize a thousand-petal lotus at the top of your head? And, as it blossoms, a radiant white/violet light emanating from this portal shining out into infinite space? If so, you are seeing the energy of the crown chakra, called the Sahasrara Chakra. This week in classes, we have been exploring the seventh chakra and the word associated with it-integration. Not only is the crown chakra supported by and connected to the lower six chakras, but it is also the portal by which we integrate with the vast ocean of collective consciousness.

Imagine standing at the shore of an ocean of consciousness: infinite, eternal, unchanging. As we individuate into each lifetime, by taking on the form of a physical body, it's as though we are holding an empty cup. As we stand at the water's edge, we dip the cup into the vast expanse and carry it with us throughout our entire lifespan. When we die or "drop the body", as they sometimes say in yoga, the physical form dissolves and the internalized universal energy once again merges with the vast collective consciousness.

The tricky thing is we forget this consciousness is an inherent part of who we are, so one aspect of our yoga practice is the removing of obstacles so we can remember we are a micro-reflection of the whole. Our ability to "rise up" into the upper chakras is often set on the foundation of the lower ones. If we don't feel safe (base chakra), are numb to our emotions (sacral chakra), feel powerless in our lives (solar plexus chakra) then it's super challenging to connect to the highest essence of who we are. It is thought that dormant energy sits like a coiled snake at the base of the spine and once the energy centers become clear, the energy rises up through all of the chakras, blossoming at the crown of the head, also known as enlightenment.

The qualities of the crown chakra are experiences of peacefulness, deep joy or bliss. It deepens our spirituality and union with the divine, welcoming a state of thoughtless and doubtless awareness. Yet, it's difficult to have those experiences if not supported in the more earthly chakras, hence, we need to "do our work" through all of the energy centers in order to experience more bliss. In other words, no shortcut exists for a speedy awakening, no insta-enlightenment, or by-passing what we may find challenging along the way.

One practice that takes us to the crown is that of meditation and silence. So many of us have difficulty in what seems like simply being...sitting still, with no distractions including relaxing music or white background noise. Just silence. Unlike the other six chakras, the Sahasrara Chakra has no bija/seed mantra but is all about silence. By practicing silence, we can actually uncover that something else exists within it, and only through experiencing silence, do we discover what is there.

Realize that the path to a deeper inner awareness takes time. It takes repetition and consistency to peel away the multitude of layers that block us from remembering the vast pool of consciousness from which we came. The arduous journey is worth it as, in the end, we are thought to merge back into the collective consciousness. And when we know it's already within us, perhaps we can more easily get to the end of our time and release our physical boundaries and experience the deepest state of surrendering and bliss.

May you come to know and recognize your truest self, your highest vibration, and manifest it in the world through living your soul's purpose and calling. Getting connected to our crown will help reveal to us why we are here in this lifetime and remind us to walk firmly along our own path.

Intuition

Have you ever had the experience where you had a momentary nudge about something, didn't trust it fully and instead rationalized and reasoned your way to a different answer? I have and let me just say, that I've had to do a few about-faces having been led astray by my "reasonable" mind. I tap my head and silently admonish myself for not trusting my first instinct. Had I trusted it, I would have not only saved myself time but angst as well. Thankfully, I've become better over the years of deciphering the language of my soul or as Dean Koontz says "intuition is seeing with the soul". I now have greater trust in those momentary nudges, not always, but more often. 

Intuition is associated with the sixth or Ajna chakra. Located at the brow center, it's powerful seed sound is OM and its color is indigo/purple. One way to open the channel to this energy center is to visualize a vortex of light spinning at the forehead, chanting OM repeatedly, and imagining an expansive and open spaciousness. By closing our physical eyes, we awaken the Ajna chakra by opening our inner Third Eye, the pathway to seeing beyond the obvious.

Intuition always makes sense to the person intuiting as it's the language of their innermost being. And how we get better at understanding those nudges is to understand how they show themselves to us. Four ways of sensing the more subtle language of our being are through: clairvoyance (the ability to receive actual messages/images); clairaudience (receiving auditory information); clairsentience (receiving information through others senses); and claircognizance (receiving thoughts/ideas directly from spirit). I never thought I had special telepathic gifts until I began to open up to the mere possibility that I did but simply didn't know how to articulate what I was receiving.

As my meditation practice has evolved and deepened over time, I'm able to receive more intuitive insights as I am getting better at holding the space open in order to get the message. If we're constantly drawn outward, into the external world, seeking and searching through our open eyes and maintaining a certain vigilance, the quieter messages get bowled over. As we sit in meditation, we become more of an open vessel to "hear" the deeper whispers of our being. What I've discovered is that I'm quite clairsentient as I sense things, largely in my chest and belly. I've only had a couple of strong clairvoyant experiences one of which was receiving a "vision" in the wee hours of the morning that I needed to be running yoga retreats in Australia. The message was purposeful and precise. 

As I awoke from the sleep from this vision, I perked up and thought to myself, "so that's what I'm meant to be doing...!" and proceeded to email my Australian friends to ask for any leads to retreat centers Down Under. Within a relatively short period of time, we discovered Sanctuary Retreat and have visited and offered retreats multiple times over the past decade. It was as though my soul's purpose was being called into action and I was fortunate to not only have heard the message but to have acted upon it. What resulted was many life-affirming experiences in a magical place.

The primary message of this week regarding intuition is twofold. First, open up to receiving insights. Get quiet, meditate, focus on the upper three chakras, breathe, and stay open without expecting any particular answer or outcome. And second, when you do receive a message...trust it. Trust it completely. It's the voice of your soul speaking to you in your own language, guiding you from a place of deeper purpose and meaning. Trust that it's something you don't need to analyze, rationalize, or reason through. It's the truth showing itself.

May we always know our truth.

Listen

People all over the world are out in the streets...shouting and protesting for better treatment of marginalized people. They're shouting through face-masks and megaphones. They're shouting despite the higher risk of gathering in large numbers amidst Covid-19. Are we hearing their message? Are we listening? Is anybody listening to their cries for change in a way that change will actually happen?

From this disrupted landscape of social unrest, I have been drawn to the energy of the throat chakra, the center of expression and communication. Located at the throat, the fifth energy vortex of blue light is not only connected to what we say but how well we listen, and this is a time for so many of us to listen to the requests, anger, and needs of others. 

It's a practice, often a challenging one, to simply sit and listen without judging or interjecting our own thoughts or tidbits of advice. How good are you at holding open the space for another person to express themselves? To having moments of silence, keeping that silent space for deeper expression? If you're anything like me, this is challenging as I want to help, offer advice, and throw in my two-cents. I want to "fix" the problem and offer solutions and often as it so happens, as I'm thinking of the solution I stop listening. It's as though I throw up the non-verbal wall and put an end to allowing the speaker to truly off-load. And it gets derailed even further if I step into "should-ing" all over people..."you know what you should do..." equals toxic shutdown of all communication. Instead of letting the person speak, I superimpose my own stuff all over them. Hence, the difficulty of the practice to be a listener rather than a fixer. 

In yoga teacher training, I teach (as I was taught) the trainees to ask permission before making a physical adjustment. "May I touch/adjust you?" are common questions before taking action. So perhaps this can be transferred to offering an "attitude adjustment". "I'm happy to just listen, so if you need feedback or want suggestions, let me know" might be an indication that I'm holding the space for expression and won't take it personally if they wish to just vent or if they're actually seeking my viewpoint.

I had a big "aha" moment with my mother one day when she was venting about what to eat, not knowing if what she was eating was "right" and how she could lose some weight. In the past, I would jump in with my "professional" opinion, making suggestions and would get frustrated when she seemed to more or less ignore all of my good intentions. On this day, I paused and kept listening instead. I finally said to her, "I'm not sure if you're asking for my advice, so let me know if you're actually wanting it." I heard silence on the other end of the phone. I had never responded like this before when she brought up this topic. I realized with the silence that she wasn't really wanting a solution to her "food issues" but needed to off-load her frustration around it. I didn't take my default path of fixing, asked instead, and it shifted our interaction on the subject for quite some time. I realized I couldn't meet her need of finding a food solution and needed to simply be a better listener.

To begin a practice of becoming a deeper listener, sit still for a moment and close your eyes. Give yourself this time to simply be and listen to all the sounds you can detect. Can you do so without judging? Without thinking, "Oh I like this sound but that other sound is simply annoying." Can you simply notice how sound arises and falls away? Can you notice it's fluid nature and impermanence? The next step is to transfer that to a person you're having a conversation with. Can you just listen without analyzing straight away? Can you ask a question of "is this something I can help you with?" and await the answer without offering advice?

When we honor the speaker and let them release whatever they need to say, we may gain valuable insight into what they are actually needing and, in return, if we can support them in that need.

I am listening. Deeply listening. Listen.