Simply Savor

We just hosted Thanksgiving with my sisters, their partners, my niece and three family dogs. There were nine people at our table and we were all grateful to be together and share an outstanding meal. Our menu: Baturducken (a chicken inside of a duck inside of a turkey, wrapped in a bacon lattice), stuffing, roasted brussel sprouts and cauliflower (olive oil, garlic and rosemary), chai mashed sweet potatoes (mascarpone, butter, cardamom, cloves and cinnamon), celery root and butternut squash gratin, homemade cranberry relish, pumpkin and pecan pies. The leftovers were as good if not better than the main meal.

Our family guests stayed for two nights. I am always grateful when I see my extended family members, as well as any guests we have in our home or people we share meals with in other venues. I am becoming increasingly aware that my siblings and I keep changing as we get older, our kids are all growing so fast that it's hard to keep up with their developments, and a year can pass without me even realizing I haven't talked with certain friends in far too long.

My father-in-law once mentioned to me that we are all "slipping away" from each other day by day. This is a true statement. This life we live is not permanent. Nonetheless, we cherish it. The fleeting nature of all relationships, all experiences, all emotions--this impermanence reminds me to savor every pleasure to the fullest, which is something that's easy to forget. I can be very forgetful. I forget to really look at my children when they are talking to me. I forget that this face they have today will be not be the same even in a few months. I want to look at their faces now. I want to hear my husband's voice now, really hear it...he is pretty loud in general, but I still want to hear him with my full capacity for hearing. I want to hear him now before we slip away from each other.

I want to taste and smell and see and hear and feel my life while I still have it. I want to savor it. There is an art to that. It's not just automatic. To truly savor anything, we must be present to it, and to ourselves. Presence is also an art, and it must be practiced. How do we practice presence? How do we teach ourselves to be fully present just where we are? I try to teach myself through yoga, through savoring my breath and my movement, savoring rest, savoring direct sensations. When I meditate, I practice savoring stillness. I know that if I train myself in these ways, the ability to be present and savor the other parts of my life will come easier.

In this month of gift preparing and gift giving and generous gathering with friends and loved ones, our spiritual practice, our physical practice, all of our practices can be aimed toward the goal of savoring all of our gifts. Our very life is a gift. In the grand scheme of the Universe, if we blink, we can miss it. I don't want to miss mine. I need my yoga practice to help me be present to my life.

This life and this body are gifts I wish to simply savor; therein lies the gratitude.

When we savor each moment, fully present in our experience, there is no past to cling to or future to anticipate; so much of our stress can dissolve that way.

Do something each day to train yourself in this art.

Let Go to Grow

Over the past two weeks, my life and yoga practice have revolved around letting go, loosening my grip and releasing certain ideas, beliefs, places, people, physical and mental habits I have been holding onto assiduously.

Because I couldn't let go of certain ideas, people, and even the need to frequently work and practice in a particular studio, that studio owner who is also my teacher terminated my employment there. At first very shocked by this turn of events in spite of how hard I had worked there (too hard, teaching three regular classes without fail, subbing at every opportunity, devoting extra unpaid time) and how much I loved the idea of teaching there (too much), I now understand that my attachment was imbalanced. It was for me as if my life depended on how well I was doing in those classes and whether I not I "belonged" with that group of teachers and practitioners. Seeing this, and not arriving at any kind of easy solution for it, my mentor simply decided to fire me. In the grand scheme of my path as a yoga practitioner and teacher, it was the best gift I could have received at the time.

In Yoga philosophy, the concept of vairagya is given in the Yoga Sutras and the direct translation of that word is usually "non-attachment," which implies something a little different from letting go. Non-attachment implies the equanimity and wisdom inherent in not grabbing on tightly to things in the first place. Detachment is letting go of something you've already grasped or held onto. Since I am still learning a lot about vairagya, I have to start with detaching before I can learn non-attachment.

Fortunately, since beginning earnestly on the path of yoga I have had some honest and humble teachers I've been able to watch as they modeled both detachment and non-attachment. Just as it is helpful to see a yoga teacher model a posture for the class, it is also helpful to witness a teacher model the application of yoga philosophy.

The teacher who fired me has been instructing his staff and students in the ways of letting go of cherished beliefs about what Yoga is and how it should be practiced and taught. A lot of this instruction is based on a solid knowledge of anatomy, sports biomechanics, functional movement and a studied approach to the history of Yoga and how it has been adapted and taught in the West. In keeping with this instruction, I signed up for an anatomy workshop for yoga teachers that I attended this past weekend, with some of my current and former yoga teachers. Everyone who participated in the workshop had to let go of some formerly held beliefs and habits to make room for valuable, new information on how to more skillfully cue and give hands-on assists to yoga students. There was a lot of cringing, jaw-dropping, head shaking, and even some face palms!

Yoga teaching is rapidly evolving as an occupation and the number of teachers graduating from training programs is growing exponentially. The anatomy teacher who conducted our workshop spoke positively about trends toward peer review for articles written about yoga. He spoke of himself and those of us present as teachers as trailblazers who are taking responsibility for evolving the yoga teaching profession to make it safer, more skillful and more credible.

Several years ago I regularly attended the classes of two of the teachers taking the training; I trusted them completely and their classes were a true refuge for me. One of them inspired me to learn to teach so I could attempt to share the gifts she imparted to me. This past weekend, my teachers' example of openness, humility and willingness to let go of what they have taught over the course of their career, (things I heard them say many times, cues I followed, assists I received) set the perfect example I need in my life and practice right now. I was touched very deeply by their example of non-attachment. I need to learn to humbly and graciously let go of ideas, attitudes, things, people and places I held onto tightly.

Not being able to let go is a serious mental and physical handicap. When we let go we open ourselves up to receive continual blessings, knowledge, information and nourishment. Gripping, grasping, hanging on for dear life, these behaviors prevent us from relaxing, receiving and renewing. They halt our progress. They keep us stuck. A concrete example from the weekend workshop is that isometric contraction of a muscle prevents blood flow into the muscle, so that circulation of oxygen and nutrients to the muscle are temporarily cut off. When we grip with our muscles, we are contracting them. When we grip with our attitudes and behaviors, we are also contracting our selves rather than expanding them; hanging on for dear life prevents the flow of life and energy.

When we hold on, we're held back. When we let go, we grow.

What can you let go of to allow yourself to grow? Sometimes we can let go on our own and other times we're forced to let go. Either way, try to see it as a good thing.

Practicing Selective Attention

"Can I help you find anything today?" goes the refrain of the Shoppers' Welcome. "Did you find everything you were looking for?" Sometimes you shop for goods or food looking for a particular item, and other times you're just browsing. Sometimes you see what you want and other times you pass everything by, simply observing without taking something away. Shopping can be a metaphor that extends to your life. So what are you looking for today? Each day, in each experience, what are you hoping to see? 

"What we see depends mainly on what we look for." This popular quote from John Lubbock aptly describes the power of our expectations to shape our reality, for better or worse. There's a name for it, actually: the "Observer/Expectancy Effect." So much happens within and around us all of the time, most of which we cannot control, but the question remains, "what are you looking for?" What do you notice as you're browsing through life? 

This question leads me to a West African folktale about the experience of two travelers: 

There was once an elderly and wise gentleman who lived in a village. He would often spend his days sitting in the shade of a big tree in the center of the village, reading books and talking to passersby. One day, a traveler came upon his village and stopped and said, “Old man, I have been traveling across the countryside, and I have seen many things and met many people. Can you tell me what kind of people I will find in your village?”

The elderly gentleman looked up at him and replied, “Certainly I can, but first tell me what kind of people you have found on your travels.”

The traveler scowled and said, “Old man, I have met people who cheat, steal, and aren’t kind to strangers, and people who don’t look out for one another.”

The elderly gentleman looked up and, with a faint look of sadness in his eyes, said, “Oh my friend, those are the people you will find in my village.” The traveler kicked the dirt under his feet, scoffed, and marched off towards the village.

By and by, as the elderly gentleman continued to enjoy his day, another traveler came walking through the village. Once again, the traveler stopped and asked, “Please kind sir, I have been traveling across the countryside, and I have seen many things and met many people. Can you tell me what kind of people I will find in your village?”

The elderly gentleman said, “Certainly I can, but first tell me what kind of people you have found in your travels.”

The traveler replied, “I have found people who are kind and welcoming of strangers, people who care for one another, and people who love. These are the people I have met in my travels.”

The elderly gentleman looked up and, with the faintest smile in his eyes, said, “My friend, those are the people you will find in my village.” 

Where we place our attention determines a lot about what we experience, in our travels, in our relationships, even in a yoga class. A psychological process termed "selective attention" makes us notice certain things, words or ideas more often when they are new and interesting to us. Another process called "confirmation bias" reaffirms the prevalence and importance of what we keep seeing. We've probably all heard of the blue car syndrome; when we're contemplating buying a certain color or make of car, suddenly we see that car everywhere. 

With what we know about our biases and tendencies in observing phenomena, is it possible to find more of what we're seeking? Can we effectively train ourselves to maintain our attention on what we want more of in life? There is limitless variety in the world happening around us, yet we have a choice on where to place our attention. While remaining open and truthful in each moment, we can consciously direct our focus, so we're being honest with ourselves about what's happening, but only buying into the things we really want. We can see what is, what's possible and what's desirable, all at the same time. Maintaining this vision, we can transform ourselves and the world. 

Yoga is an excellent training ground for focusing our attention where we want it. In your practice today, consciously set an intention before you begin. Ask yourself what you want more of in your life, and actively look for that quality as you practice. Maintain an open awareness of each breath, each thought and each movement. Use selective attention to keep building on what you want more of: strength, joy, peace, ease, comfort. When you experience unappealing sensations or thoughts, see them for what they are but keep browsing, and return to your intention. 

Happy shopping! 

Embracing Idiosyncrasy

This week I read a story from NPR about a female attorney who hired a voice coach and worked for nine months to change her voice. In evaluations with male law firm partners, her high voice had been identified as an obstacle. The article is entitled, "Can Changing How You Sound Help You Find Your Voice?" It made me think about my own voice and the voices of some people I have known, both men and women. I used to work in a law firm with a male lawyer who also felt that his high voice was an impediment to success.

Our society likes to define and perpetuate standards and norms. Nothing wrong with that, right? We rarely question the need to adapt to widely accepted norms in our behaviors. Nonetheless, there are certain individual qualities we each have that make us stand out in some way. Voice can certainly be one of those. Part of what determines our voice quality is genetic. Another part is based on conditioning, environment and personality. The same can be said for our posture, our gait and our facial expressions. 

When is it worth the effort to change some of our instinctual physical and emotional traits? Can we recognize the value in some or all of our idiosyncrasies? 

One way we can develop awareness of our individual qualities and work on them is through the practice of Yoga. As we acquaint ourselves deeply with our breath, our bodies and our minds, through pranayama (breath work), asana (moving through poses) and dhyana (meditation), we begin to see more deeply into ourselves. We learn to bring neutral observation to the way we perceive ourselves and the world around us. We learn to accept each part of ourselves, and as we do that, we begin to transform. The transformation is both conscious and unconscious. We practice, we wait, we grow, and we transform. Some parts of us we identify as needing work, but we learn that we must accept those parts before we can change them. 

The article about changing our individual voice to become more successful made me think about self-critical tendencies. Criticism serves a valuable purpose in all areas of life. It helps us identify what we can improve. The caveat to criticism is that it needs to be balanced with appreciation, or it can become destructive. This process of balancing criticism with appreciation made me think of Sutra 2.33 in The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali: Vitarka badhane pratipaksha bhavanam, "When disturbed by negative thoughts, opposite [positive] ones should be thought of. This is pratipaksha bhavana." 

We can use pratipaksha bhavana as a method to work with our idiosyncrasies, like our voice, our posture, our breath, and the way we move. We are each unique and all of that uniqueness has value. Yet, there are certain traits we may wish to change or adapt from time to time. How can we identify these and approach them constructively? Each time we find something to criticize, we can balance the criticism with appreciation. So in the example of the lawyers with the high voices, we can find something to appreciate: I thought my lawyer friend's high voice made him approachable, playful and distinctive. We can apply this same perspective to our yoga postures. Two of my teachers speak often about how tight they were when they first practiced yoga and how this physical quality of being tight helps prevent injury. We don't have to be bendy Barbie Dolls to practice yoga. We can notice that we are tight and appreciate what the tightness brings us. If we decide we want to become more limber, we can work towards that quality with an accompanying appreciation of the tightness. 

Today in your practice, pay particular attention to your own idiosyncrasies, the way YOU do yoga: What do you think about in yoga class? How does your breathing sound? What does your down dog feel like? Where do you like to put your feet, in spite of what the teacher says? Notice your individual practice, and each time you feel critical, find something to appreciate. 

We are transitory beings and in time all things about us will change and fade away, so there is no need to be impatient about what won't change right now. As we see more deeply into ourselves through practicing yoga, let's bring awareness to every aspect, balancing any criticisms with appreciation. In this way, we can own our practice and our voice with awareness and compassion. 

Namaste.

Yoga to Bless Your Heart

My grandmother always said "bless your heart(s)" to everyone. I never thought about what she meant by it. I often hear people refer to following our heart instead of our head, or knowing something in the heart, as opposed to the intellect. In yoga classes I have often heard "bow your head to your heart." In church I have heard that God knows our hearts, even that our heart is the place where God resides. A favorite verse of mine is "People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart," (1 Samuel 16:7).

What is our heart, other than our most vital organ? Do we have an emotional heart, or a spiritual heart? Is it possible to be heartless? When we say that a person is heartless, do we really mean that they have lost the connection to their spiritual heart?

We are taught in yoga philosophy that the spiritual heart is where our deepest wisdom resides and our deepest longings are fulfilled.

In the city of Brahman is a secret dwelling, the lotus of the heart. Within this dwelling is a space, and within that space is the fulfillment of our desires. What is within that space should be longed for and realized. 

As great as the infinite space beyond is the space within the lotus of the heart. Both heaven and earth are contained in that inner space, both fire and air, sun and moon, lightning and stars. Whether we know it in this world or know it not, everything is contained in that inner space. 

The Chandogya Upanishad, Chapter VIII

In the third book of the Yoga Sutras we read about perfect concentration on the heart. In studying the chakra system, we learn about anahata, the heart chakra. When we open our heart chakra we activate the core of our compassion and our ability to live from our higher self, the part of us that is pure love. 

Practicing yoga gives us a chance, should we choose to take it, to experience our spiritual heart. The focus on our breath and the linking of the breath to physical movement pacifies our busy minds; when mental activity slows, we can access parts of ourselves we may otherwise neglect. We train ourselves to turn compassionate awareness towards our experience, feeling instead of analyzing, staying present instead of chasing external distractions. 

In your practice today, and everyday, invite yourself to experience your heart, physically, emotionally and spiritually. Tune into your heart beat. Notice and allow emotions that arise as you practice. Explore the idea of a spiritual heart if it has meaning for you. When you do this, may you find an inexhaustible source of love that heals you from within and pours itself out to touch everyone you meet. 

Amen. Om. Peace. xo

Perfect Yoga in an Imperfect Body

Would you like to be a better person in every way, physically, mentally and spiritually? Would you like to overcome obstacles and surmount hardships? Were there a guaranteed method to achieve consistent health and happiness and get closer to perfection each day, wouldn't you sign up?

Many people are looking to yoga as a means of overall self-improvement. No one wants to suffer. As a yoga teacher, I am aware that certain people may see me as offering a way out of suffering or an on-ramp to a better way of life. If I can somehow help even one person suffer less or find more joy and vitality in life, then the money I spent on teacher training will not have been wasted. But guess what? I don't have a perfect body or a perfect existence, and I can't show myself or anyone else a permanent way out of the pain inherent in this life. What I can do is help myself and others to generate compassion and see a way through the pain of despair, loss, illness and death when they happen.

In Patanjali's Yoga Sutras there are references to bodily perfection and supernatural powers to be achieved through practicing yoga: eg. Rupa lavanya bala vajrasam-hananatvani kayasampat, translated as "Beauty, grace, strength, and adamantine hardness constitute bodily perfection," (Yoga Sutra 3.47). Are you familiar with the word, adamantine? I wasn't. It means unbreakable. Personally I believe in an unbreakable spirit, but not an unbreakable body. My beliefs are based on concrete evidence of the world around me.

I can't ignore how fragile this human life is, or the breakable nature of the body. In recent months, I've received daily correspondence from a friend who lives in Liberia, where the sickness of Ebola is ravaging the country. His neighbor and his cousin just died of Ebola and he is afraid for his life. Another friend of mine is losing her mom to a grueling battle with cancer. These are current reminders of life's fragility, and like all of us, I have previous reminders as well, even in my own body. If you see me smile, you will notice that one side of my face is different from the other due to nerve damage. I also have pain sometimes on that side of my body. I don't believe that I personally caused the damage to my body or that I can supernaturally recover from it and achieve bodily perfection. I also don't believe that anyone else is ever going to achieve bodily perfection, yet I believe us all to be perfect beings with an unlimited capacity for joy and achievement.

Through my practice of yoga and my involvement in various yoga communities and spiritual communities, I have found ever new ways to connect to my bliss and open my heart to my own suffering and the suffering of others. I have found on-ramps to compassion and a doorway into a state of grace. Something I read last week from a Buddhist teacher I like reminded me of confronting our imperfect state with compassion and grace. Ethan Nicthern shared the advice of his teacher Eric Spiegel at a memorial service for a mutual friend: "Stay open...and if fear arises, generate compassion." This is advice for confronting death, our own, or the death of a loved one. It is also advice for confronting pain in all circumstances.

Does yoga teach us how to be perfect and live gracefully in a perfect world? Does it teach us to perceive and experience only goodness? Or does it teach us to live gracefully as a human, with others who are human, in a perfectly flawed world?

Is love seeing only the good in yourself and others? Or is it having the courage to see the flaws, maintain awareness of discomfort, of friction, of missing the mark, and staying open anyway? In the Yoga Sutras, 2.36 contains a teaching on establishing oneself in truthfulness and honesty. The Sutras are kind of like the Bible in that everyone takes out the teachings they want to make their point, perhaps ignoring certain others that seem inconvenient at the time. Nonetheless, all teachings on bodily perfection aside, I believe that yoga helps us to be both fully honest and fully compassionate about our human condition.

I can't model perfect yoga postures or a perfect attitude. Even assuming that I could, if as a teacher I model only perfection, if all I can show you is how to stay open to calm, stay open to beauty, stay open to perfectly executed postures...how will that help you to embrace real life? How will that prepare you for illness, death, loss, inevitable times when you miss the mark, upsets and frustrations?

"Strength is perfected in weakness," is one of my favorite quotes from the Bible. Showing up in yoga class in perfect outfits with a perfectly chiseled body and a pretty face and a lovely calm demeanor, modeling swan-like yoga postures...this is all useful as entertainment and diversion, but is it useful in your imperfect life? Meeting your experiences head-on with awareness and compassion is useful in real life. Ultimately I'd like my yoga practice to prepare me for that, instead of a Yoga Journal photo shoot. Although the last one with Kathryn Budig was refreshing, as she gleefully modeled embracing her lovely yet imperfect body! Check it out. And come as you are to yoga, irrespective of adamantine hardness.

The Hatha Dance

Yesterday in the Northern Hemisphere we marked the occurrence of the Autumnal Equinox, the day when summer turns to fall and there are equal parts of daylight and darkness as the sun sits at the zenith over the Equator. This is a beautiful time to be in nature and witness the unique quality of light making everything glimmer a little more than usual. We can literally feel the summer turning into fall with warmth at the peak of the day followed by cooler nights descending over us, like a blanket.

We can take cues from nature to inform our yoga practice. This is something the ancient yogis did as well as tribal cultures spanning history and the globe. The Equinox signals us that a time for going inward is approaching. The summer is a time when energy is focused outwardly, heat is generated and released and the balance tips toward external expression. Winter is the counterbalance to summer, where we maintain a softer internal fire and our practice can be more reflective. At the Equinox, we sense and embody a graceful equipoise and we participate in the Hatha dance, moving in and around that point of equilibrium. 

I was able to observe a perfect example of this dance as I sat next to the river yesterday. I watched a heron perched on top of a large rock in the middle of the water. He sat still for what seemed like a long time. Then, with purpose, grace and ease, he opened his wings and took flight over the river. I thought of heron pose (krounchasana) in yoga, and then I thought of the many poses of Hatha yoga giving expression to what we see in the natural world. In Sanskrit, Ha means sun and tha means moon; through the practice we balance both solar and lunar energies, internal and external, passive and active. We go inward to connect deeply, then we turn outward, giving expression to our inner light and bliss. 

Now, and at all times of the year, we can purposefully embrace the ongoing dance in our yoga practice, and in all of life. Our gaze moves inward to our center, and out again into the world. We connect deeply with our self, our surroundings, and the people around us, and we notice that we are all dancing. Yoga fosters an awareness of the universal choreography at play in our minds, bodies, and in the world at large.