The yogi cat: lessons on stillness

Tags

animal rescue, animal shelter, animals, Monkey mind, Surrender, volunteering

Several months ago, I started volunteering at my local no-kill animal shelter. Spending time there has now become one of the great joys of my life. How can it not be when I am greeted by a sweet face like this when I go into work?

Darla

At first I was rather intimidated by the whole thing. I was scared it was going to be depressing. Plus, the shelter needed the most help with the cats, and I’ve always been firmly planted in Camp Dog. The night before volunteer orientation, I stared at the ceiling at 3 am, convinced that this whole shelter idea was going to be too hard and just wasn’t my thing.

I’m so glad I try things that I’m convinced aren’t my thing. (See also: doing yoga in a really hot room.)

I immediately fell in love with my new gig and found myself a niche. I now tend to work with the … um … “difficult” cats. For unknown reasons, I gravitate to these troubled souls. I love the ones who have just recently come into the shelter, the ones who are not cute nor cuddly. They are freaked out and terrified and just a tiny bit evil-looking.

Usually, with lots of patience, love and salmon-flavored treats, they get more comfortable. They slowly relax and become sweet creatures who can be adopted to their new forever homes. It’s incredibly rewarding to watch a cat under my care transform from holy terror to purring lap companion.

The other day, I was working with a cat that has been exceptionally challenging – Xena. I was just talking to her for about 20 minutes while she was in her cage. I attempted to slowly scratch her ears but she kept backing away and giving me that wide-eyed killer cat look, and so I just talked to her more. I hate to admit it but at a certain point, hearing myself blabbering on to her – without seeming to give her any comfort – got a little tedious.

My mind wandered. I thought about checking my phone, I wondered if we had food in the house for dinner…when WHAM! SLASH! Out came Xena’s claws and suddenly my hand was a bloody mess. I was shocked: she had felt me mentally wandering away and my lack of mindfulness had made her nervous and defensive.

By the time I stopped swearing and pouring hand sanitizer all over my shredded fingers, it all struck me as pretty fascinating.

Animals are much more in tune with things like this, but anyone can see it when we are really being aware. Xena’s behavior exemplified something that happens everywhere in my life – when I forget to stay in the present moment, life gets much more uncomfortable and challenging.

Another place I can see that very clearly is the hot room. I can be doing a perfectly acceptable Standing Bow, but when I let my mind go off to write that email and recreate that misunderstanding with my friend…I fall on my face. It’s all about balance and when my monkey-mind is in charge, the balance is off. When I’m truly present in my yoga practice, I can connect with each muscle and tendon and cell in my body.

When I’m present with the shelter cats, I can be totally attuned to the nuance of the connection with them. I can feel when they are overwhelmed and need to crawl back into their beds to be alone. I can feel when they are ready to surrender a little and that sweet, warm motor inside them starts to purr. I can feel when they are ready be held for a little while and I can walk them up and down the aisles of the shelter so they can observe the bustling activity from the safety of my arms. I can connect with both myself and the world around me when I’m not distracted by my own thoughts.

But when I’m lamenting about the fact that I need to go return that thing at Home Depot, I miss all that beauty. I overlook all the potential in Xena, the potential in me and the potential in life itself.

And living that kind of life that is even more painful than Purelle on a cat scratch.

———–

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Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, community, gratitude

My yoga studio is moving to a new location.

It’s just a few blocks from the current place, but many of us students seem to be dealing with this like stereotypical Bikram yogis. The change is freaking us out. We love our same 26 postures and setting up in the same spot in the hot room. Although we are learning flexibility, when it comes to changing up our studio space, we are getting slightly bent out of shape.

We are also excited for a new adventure. An adventure with nicer showers.

But first, we must say goodbye to our old place, and for some of us, that is proving difficult.

The old place is where I wandered in one day, not knowing a thing about Bikram yoga. It’s a place that I came to rely on to fix my aching body and screw-loose brain. It’s where I made wonderful friends and did poses I never thought were possible for my clumsy, 30-something body. It’s where I went on my birthday, on the anniversary of the day I broke my back, on the day that my dog passed away. I went and cried and healed and then finally, I laughed.

It is sweaty, hallowed ground.

So, I’m having a hard time letting go (admits the yogi-in-progress).

Of course the new space will be wonderful. It will become the place where new things happen. There will be new experiences in the hot room and deepening friendships on the benches after class. But at first, I will walk into the studio like a person entering a random party, looking for anything familiar and wondering where the bathroom is. We will be strangers, that place and I.

Our brilliant studio owner, Lizzie, put a vase on the front desk at the current studio. The sign says if there is something – some energy, some feeling – that we want to come with us to the new studio, we should write it on a piece of paper and put it in the vase. This vessel will travel with us, with all the good wishes inside, to the new studio where it will not be opened.

I tried to figure out what to say to this vase. How do I express all of my hopes for this next phase of my practice and my life? How do I capture all that gratitude on a Sticky Note?

I was having a hard time putting it into words (admits the writer-in-progress).

So, I wrote:

Peace, love and acceptance – for myself and everyone else. Thank you for everything.

As I wrote it, a tear slipped from my eye, wrinkling the paper and smudging the ink. My message is so incomplete…but in a way, anything would be. So, I accepted the imperfectness of my words and placed the note in the vase.

I’ll be there for the last class at the current studio. I’ll be there for the first class at the new studio. I’ll figure out where I like to leave my shoes and where the hot spots are. I’ll open my heart and introduce myself to this next part of the path.

Hello.

(*Yes. I totally quoted Semisonic in the title of this post.)

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Nothing to say

Tags

Boston Marathon

I had a post all ready to go for this morning, but in light of the tragedy in Boston, I didn’t feel right posting about anything else.

But I don’t really know what I can contribute to the conversation.

I always want to say something profound and healing in times like these. I want to say something about looking for the helpers or the fact that the good people outnumber the bad. I want to say something optimistic about how we really can go on in the face of this craziness.

But today, I’m at a bit of a loss.

So, I’ll just say that I’m sorry.

I’m sorry to those people who were scared and injured and suffered unimaginable loss.

I’m sorry that the Boston Marathon now has something evil attached to it, like Virginia Tech and Oklahoma City.

I’m sorry that this is no longer the type of event that is rare.

But here’s what I’m not sorry about.

I’m not sorry that the world gets to see brave people rushing towards danger to help out fellow humans.

I’m not sorry that we can come together and show our strength and resilience in the face of tragedy.

I’m not sorry that we will take a stand to say what is acceptable in our society and what is not.

We are all together in this – in this sadness – but we can also be together in sending light and love to people everywhere who are scared, lost and brokenhearted.

Peace, peace, peace.

Fly away: a Synergy partner yoga workshop

Tags

flying, partner yoga, synergy, thai massage, trust

My husband J and I, flying! (Many thanks to Lizzie Clark for the photos.)

Remember when you were a kid and you would play airplane? Remember when you’d soar through the air, arms flung wide and you’d giggle and squeal and feel like you could fly forever?

Yeah. Me, too.

But then I grew up. I learned to be anxious and I learned not to trust people and I worried about falling on my face, both figuratively and literally.

So, a few years ago, when my studio posted the information for a partner yoga workshop, my grown up (anxious, untrusting, worried) self said it wasn’t really my thing.

I can’t do that. I can’t fly anymore.

But somehow, when the partner yoga sign-up sheet appeared again, I got up the guts to do the thing I used to do when I was five years old and invincible.

J and I had so much fun. Can’t you tell??

The workshop was a Synergy class taught by Francisco Morales Bermudez and it was a combination of partner stretching, flying and Thai massage. Class was held in our Bikram studio but the heat was turned off. About 6 pairs of yogis attended, twisting and stretching and flying and getting one hell of an ab workout.

I tried to fly J, but our considerable height/weight differences posed something of an issue. So Francisco flew him. Look at J, rocking out bow pose!!

Later, Fransisco flew me and flipped me around so I didn’t even know which way was up! I’m laughing here because he had just shoved his toe in my ear. You get very…um…comfortable…with your flying partner!

So it all worked out well, even though right before class started I was feeling very nervous and shy. I was at my home-away-from-home yoga studio, but it all felt so different. This was no standard 26+2 posture class. What if I wasn’t strong enough? What if I looked silly? What if I fell and hurt myself?

All those things could have happened — but none of them did.

What happened is that I remembered that I am stronger and more capable that I thought I was. I remembered that through communication, balance, presence and breath, I can work with my partner in a new way. I remembered how to try stuff and roll around on the ground and giggle.

It was the most wonderful afternoon and it reminded me of the important wisdom of my five-year old self.

Let go. Have fun. Play. Fly.

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Cry it out: accepting compassion

Tags

acceptance, Compassion

A friend of mine recently went through a hard time.

I reached out to her, expecting to be waved away amongst a flurry of “I’m fine” and “Don’t worry about it.”

That’s not what she did. She allowed me to sit with her while she cried. She let me hold her hand and rub her back, even though there was absolutely nothing that I could do to fix the situation.

But the fact that she let me sit with her was such a kindness – to me. I knew I couldn’t make it all better, but simply allowing the connection between us was good for us both.

Her willingness to accept my compassion and love was one of the most beautiful displays of strength I have seen in a really long time.

We talk a lot about giving compassion but we forget about how important it is to receive it.

How many times have I denied someone who was trying to help me? How many times have I pretended that I wasn’t crying and that I was okay when clearly – I was not? How many times have I refused a favor and rejected a complement or generous word? How many times have I shut down love that someone was trying to show me?

Many, many times. Because I thought it would make me look weak.

I think that people are so focused on being independent and self-sufficient that we assume any kind of acceptance of compassion means that we are lacking in emotional strength. But that’s so wrong.

It’s easy to shut down and be impermeable and say you are fine when you know it’s a lie. That’s the cop-out. The real power is in letting people in.

So next time you are struggling, in the yoga studio, at home, at work, be open to people who are reaching out to you. I bet they’ll be there for you. And if you look around and you don’t see anyone there  – write to me.

Peace, peace, peace.

—————————————————

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A time to be heard and a time to be silent

Tags

Bikram yoga, community, meditation, silent class

Happy election day! I hope everyone will get out and vote today. Apparently, according to the Tibetan calendar November 6th is considered an auspicious day when our positive and negative actions are multiplied ten million times. Sounds like election day to me!

And although this is a very emotionally charged year, please be kind to one another, regardless of political affiliations.

And that’s as political as I’m going to get. Now let’s talk about yoga.

Recently, we celebrated the birthday of my friend and yoga teacher, Madelyn. Her boyfriend put together a surprise celebration for her – a silent class!

About a dozen of us yogis showed up at the studio when there was not a regular class scheduled. We got all set up in the hot room and wrote celebratory things on the mirror.

Then, we waited for Madelyn to be lured to the studio under false pretenses and we surprised her!

The class was totally silent, which was something I’d never experienced before. I’d been to classes where the dialogue was dramatically reduced and the teacher only said things like “half-way though” or “change” but this was TOTALLY silent. We had a teacher there, who kept time and did the practice while everyone else just followed. She was not on the podium, she was just part of the tight little cluster of yogis near the front of the room.

It was super cool.

It required me to rely on my own instincts with the practice. I made my own corrections and really watched myself in the mirror. Yet, I also felt deeply connected to the other people in the room. I released out of a posture when I could feel that they had moved. The group energy felt more connected than in any other class I’ve ever had.

At first, the meditation aspect was more difficult without the dialogue to anchor my attention into the room. However, when I got that in-the-moment vibe…it was absolutely divine in the silence. It was magic.

After all the blissed out posturing, we enjoyed a bit of a potluck — including a little bubbly, which goes directly to your head after yoga! It was a beautiful afternoon and I am so grateful for my yoga family.

This was totally my kind of party.

Do you have any experience with silent/almost silent classes? What did you think of them?

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What is Bikram yoga?

Tags

Bikram yoga, community, meditation, yoga beginner

You’re never too old, never too bad, never too late, never too sick

to start from scratch and begin again.”

– Bikram Choudhury

WordPress has this cool feature where you can see the terms that people plug into search engines to find your site. I’ve been noticing a lot of people coming here who seem to be Bikram-curious. They want to know what it is and how/if it works.

But by far the most common search term is:

Can Bikram yoga kill me?

So, I’ve decided to answer that directly:

Yes. Yes it can.

Anything can kill you – but fried foods, a sedentary lifestyle or a runaway bus are much more likely to end your life than yoga. So don’t be scared.

Before I attempt to write something defining the practice let me say this – defining Bikram is a lot like explaining love. Everyone is going to have their own interpretation of what it is and what it means to them. This is just mine, in a nutshell. If you have things to add, please feel free to comment at the end of this post.

In my experience, Bikram yoga has three parts. Exercise, meditation and community. Except…not really at all in that order.

Exercise

Bikram yoga is a series of 26 postures (poses) and 2 breathing exercises which are done in a specific sequence. Class is 90 minutes long in a room that is heated to about 105 degrees. We practice in the heat so that we can safely get a deeper stretch and detoxify the body through sweat.

The class is led by a teacher who will describe the poses using a set dialogue, so the class will be almost exactly the same, every time, regardless of whether you take a class in Miami or Rome. The teacher will not do the postures, he or she will keep an eye on everyone and sometimes walk around the room to offer help or adjustments. Just look around at other students if you get confused about what to do and sit down on your mat if you get tired or overwhelmed.

See my specific posts for info on what to wear, drinking water, sitting out a posture and other newbie tips.

Meditation

Bikram yoga is a 90 minute moving meditation. The goal is to use our bodies in such a way that we can begin to still our minds. Taking the postures step by step, focusing on the alignment and the proper form can stop our mind from spinning. We can ignore the rest of the world for that hour and a half, and just concentrate on our breath and being in the moment.

Between each pose in the floor series, we will go into savasana, or “dead body pose.” This is 20 seconds to be still and focus on the breath. You might want to fidget and flop around but stillness is very powerful, just try to quiet the body and mind. (Savasana is also known as the hardest pose in yoga.)

This is a wonderful way to practice compassion. Our bodies are different each day, each class, and yoga teaches us to be accepting and grateful for what we are capable of today. It’s not a competition and no one gets a prize. You win just by showing up.

Those of us who have been practicing yoga for a while tend to find that increased patience, acceptance and gratitude are attributes that follow us off the mat and into the rest of our lives. It’s helped me to manage panic attacks and anxiety and has just made me a happier person. That’s what keeps me coming back…the physical fitness just tends to be a nice bonus.

Community

There is a reason that Bikram yogis don’t do this alone in our own living rooms. For one thing, we couldn’t afford the heating bills, but mostly it’s because we love the yogi community. I happen to be the most introverted, hermit-like person that has ever walked the earth and even I love my Bikram yoga community.

That’s why there is just one type of class – for beginners and experienced yogis alike. We learn from each other. We feel compassion when someone else is having a hard class and accept support when we are struggling. We share our triumphs and celebrate our progress. We talk about why we love this yoga and motivate each other to keep coming, even on the days it’s really damn hard to get to class.

But when you don’t feel social, when you just want to walk into class and not talk to anyone and just do your yoga- there is total support for that, too. This is your class. Your 90 minutes to take care of yourself, whatever that means today.

Yoga means to yoke together. Connecting mind and body, heart and lungs, the individual with the community, the spirit with the divine. It’s about remembering that we are not separate, not alone – and we never were.

So, dear people who want to try Bikram; don’t be nervous.

It won’t kill you. It might just show you how to live.

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Spiritually stunted

Tags

community, good friends, support

We are healed from suffering only by experiencing it to the full.

~Marcel Proust

When I was a kid, I used to get terrible growing pains. They would shoot down my legs and settle themselves in all their aching glory right behind my kneecaps. I would hobble around in pain.

Since I only made it to a not-so-towering 5’3, I’m not sure why the pains were so bad. But I recognize that I still get them, just in a slightly different form.

I get overwhelmed by the amount of tragedy in our world. I try to see the best in people and remain positive about the state of our society, but that doesn’t come easy. I try to think that the good guys will win and that love conquers all and everything happens for a reason – but sometimes all I can do is curl up with a heating pad and pout. Just like I did when I was 13 years old.

I simply have to wait these moments out. I wait for the aching to subside, until I can get a handle on things and get off the couch. I’d like to think that this is indicating some major moment of spiritual growth, something that will make me grow tall enough to see over the suffering to the greater purpose – but I just don’t know.

I am grateful that I have a network of other sensitive souls, people who know those pains well and who understand the aching for humanity. They can offer their own remedies and perspectives. Sometimes, a hug is all that is required.

Because there is no explanation good enough. I try to be all spiritually enlightened and say something that sounds like something the Buddha would say but some days I remain spiritually petite and convinced I’ll never grow past my 5’3.

Somedays, the world is just dumb.

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Rabble-rousing: standing up for the truth

Tags

community, justice, Truth

2,000 strong on the Lawn at UVA

I had thought that perhaps the drama at the University of Virginia, my Alma Mater, was merely a local issue. But now I see that everyone is watching, from The Washington Post to Slate to The New York Times.

If you’ve not heard, the Board of Visitors forced our president, Teresa Sullivan to resign under very sketchy and secret terms, engineered by hedge fund billionaires.

The University should not be run like Goldman Sachs.

I was very proud that UVA had a female president (and a fellow sociology geek at that!) and I had only ever heard good things about her 2 years in that position. Regardless of her abilities in that role, the board has been elusive and has not acted in the manner that is expected of the institution.

These children are more ethical than the UVA Board of Visitors.

I went to the Rally for Transparency yesterday and damn did it feel good. There are times in life when you get the opportunity to stand up for what you believe in, and it feels wonderful to not stand alone. 2,000 other people gathered in support of Terry Sullivan as she went to speak to the Board.

Truth, transparency, authenticity, justice; these are all things that are worth fighting for. I’d like to think that they would surface on their own, but honestly, that rarely happens without watchdogs. We can’t get lazy and assume that the good guys will win.

It felt great to do a little shit-disturbing. (Though I wasn’t able to fulfill my life-long dream of being arrested for a good cause.) I teared up as I sang The Good Old Song and cheered on Terry until I was hoarse.

It’s important to remember what you stand for. It’s important to know that you can make a difference.

Teresa Sullivan enters the Rotunda to speak to the Board.

As to what difference we really made yesterday, we have to wait and see. But in the very least — we didn’t sit idly by. We let Terry see that we stood by her and that the Board didn’t speak for us.

We let it be known that we will follow the truth.

I am only one

But I am still one

I cannot do everything

But still I can do something

And because I cannot to everything

I will not refuse to do the something that I can do

– Edward Everett Hale

If you are interested in a full explanation from the Board and the resignation of Helen Dragas, you can sign a petition here. 

***UPDATE!!***

We have prevailed! Our President was reinstated by the Board and I could not be more thrilled. It’s amazing to know that truth and justice can win! For details, check out this NPR story. 

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Have yoga mat, will travel

Tags

Bikram yoga, family, health, Travel

I will soon be heading out to the California desert to visit family. I will be spending the majority of my time holding a fruity drink with an umbrella in it and looking at this:

I’m hoping to visit a Bikram yoga studio while I’m out there. However, it’s going to be about 114 degrees, so if I can’t get to an official class – it’ll be outdoor practicing for me!!

I love doing travel yoga. I’m kind of socially inept; I always feel wildly uncomfortable in unfamiliar situations. So, going to a studio in a different place with a bunch of strangers, and yet doing my exact same beloved Bikram series — it does my lizard brain good.

Travel yoga has little to do with fitness; let’s face it, I’m going to be eating “vacation food” which includes more than my share of my mother-in-law’s birthday cake. This is not going to be a particularly health-conscious time.

For me, travel yoga is about checking out other studios and having the experience. Every studio has their little quirks and customs, along with the by-the-book stuff, and that is interesting to me.

When I did a Bikram class in foreign language (Italian, while we were in Rome) I found such great comfort in hearing the familiar cadence of the dialogue. Instructors seem to have the same lilt, regardless of their mother tongue. But I was most amused by the fact that the Italians tend to moan and talk back to the instructors much more than Americans. So very Italian….

Have you done travel yoga? What similarities and differences have you found?

I’ll be out for a bit while we are on vacation, but I’ll be back soon!
Namaste, y’all!

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