Meditation Intervention

Tags

acceptance, meditation, mindfulness, Monkey mind, relationships, spirituality

This week, I’m going to do a Meditation Intervention with a friend of mine.

This is not because I’m The World’s Best Meditator or anything. She asked me to share my experience and offer advice, since I’m familiar with this particular stretch of turbulent waters. I’ve been fumbling my way through the often frustrating landscape of meditation for a while now.

My friend is an incredibly strong person, who has recently gone through difficult things that give me heart palpitations even thinking about. She has been doing some meditation, but she’s feeling pretty stuck at the moment.

I’m sure this sounds very familiar to all you meditators. We’ve all been there…bogged down by Monkey Mind and feeling like we are just not good at meditation. We think we are weak-willed or doing it wrong or just inherently incapable. Worst of all, we say the most horrible things to ourselves about what this apparent failure means about our character.

So, I’m going to try to shake some self-compassion into her – because here’s the thing:

Meditation is our natural state, we’ve just forgotten how to linger there.

Stillness, presence, awareness – look at any other animal in the natural world and you’ll see that they are constantly living in that state. We are the only animals that have misplaced that skill. It’s there somewhere, lost amongst the clutter of incoming texts and deadlines and trips to the DMV. We simply need to practice getting that stillness back, but our culture is so far removed from those natural skills that getting it back is really hard.

We spend decades learning to multi-task, use our critical thinking skills and plan ahead…which is all great.

But we almost never practice getting our brain to shut the hell up.

I confess: I am not a great meditator. It’s not like I sit down and it’s all stillness and light in there. I have to work – hard. It takes a lot of focus and energy for me to center myself for even 50% of the time that I am sitting on my meditation cushion.

Have I mentioned that I have had a daily meditation practice for 7 years?

Nevertheless, this is something that I have committed myself to, because of what it does for the rest of my life. It’s like to going to the gym. You don’t go to the gym to be really good at going to the gym. You go to the gym because it makes you healthier for the rest of your life outside of the gym.

Meditation is the same way. I might not spend my 25 minutes in the morning in a perfect state of bliss. I might have to chase down my mind, like I’m chasing after a puppy in a theme park. I might have itches and kinks and a really annoying eyelash in my eye. I just need to surrender to all of that.

Because regardless of how that all goes, the process of sitting down with the intention of being in stillness always causes me to spend the rest of my day in a greater sense of awareness.

Always.

So, I’m not entirely sure what I’ll say to my friend for our Meditation Intervention. There is no magic bullet for this stuff, but maybe I’ll start with this:

Meditation is one of those things you simply can’t fail at. The only failure is in being unkind and giving up on yourself.

——–

In case you are looking for a little motivation or inspiration, these are books that I really like:

Wherever You Go, There You Are – Jon Kabat-Zinn Ph.D:

He’s a molecular biologist, you can’t get much more straight shooting than that. He has an entire center dedicated to the proven medical benefits of meditation (or mindfulness, as he calls it, so that people don’t get intimidated). You can’t go wrong with any of his books.

The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook – Edmund J. Bourne:

This is the first book my therapist started me off with when she recommended meditation for my panic attacks. It has clear directions for anxiety reducing techniques and short writing exercises.

Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation – Sharon Salzberg:

Perfect for beginners. I love this one because it’s a 28 day program that comes with a CD of 15 minute guided meditations.

After the Ecstasy, the Laundry – Jack Kornfield:

Besides that it’s an awesome title, this book has some great thoughts on waking up to our life.

When Things Fall Apart (or really anything) by Pema Chodron:

Particularly wonderful if you are dealing with specific challenges.

10% Happier – Dan Harris:

This is a great book for the cynic or the person who is convinced they can’t meditate. There are some things I don’t love about the book, but it explains complicated concepts very clearly.

Also, anything by Thich Nhat Hanh, Sylvia Boorstein or Eckhart Tolle.

And if you are looking for guided mediations, check out these from the University of Virginia Mindfulness Center.

 

Some of my favorite meditation posts:

• Meditations on Meditating
  
• Meditation information: umm, what are we doing??
  
• Why you should meditate even if you suck at it
• How my iPhone reminds me to remember
• Stillness training
• Relieving stress by sleeping with the troops

 

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My life without yoga

Tags

Bikram yoga, gratitude, health, meditation, Pure Barre, relationships

A little while ago, I bought a Living Social deal for Pure Barre. I’ve gone 7 times now and like it. I just don’t love it. I like feeling a little like a ballerina (since I am so far from one) and I like the fact that it works some muscles that yoga doesn’t get to. I know this for a fact, because after my first class I was limping around for 2 days.

But, for me at least, it’s no yoga.

I get the physical burn, but I don’t get the mental cleanse that I get from the hot room. Maybe some people do get that from Barre, but I never felt it. This was a good reminder that for me – yoga really is special.

It makes me think back to my pre-yoga existence.

In the summer of 2009, I wandered into a Bikram yoga studio with no idea what to expect. I’d done yoga before, but I’d never had a serious practice. It was mostly just a couple of Rodney Yee tapes (yes, actual VHS tapes) that I’d dust off once in a while.

I’d been a meditator for a couple of years, so it seemed to make sense that I would try out yoga. A friend had heard great things about our local Bikram studio and she thought I might like it.

I will forever be indebted to Rachel for this suggestion.

I had just come home from a month of studying at Oxford and it wasn’t all I expected it to be. I felt mildly depressed and mildly fat. I don’t mean to jump on the bandwagon and bash the Brits for their food, but let’s just say the vegetarian-on-a-budget experience was not great.

I needed to get my life back on track. I figured yoga couldn’t hurt.

Now, thinking about life without yoga is just crazy. If I didn’t do yoga, my life would be totally different.

~ I wouldn’t have the support of such a wonderful yogi community.

~ I wouldn’t eat such healthy foods.

~ I wouldn’t have such deep and healing meditations.

~ I would not sleep as well.

~ I would not be as strong, mentally, physical, spiritually.

 ~ I would still have panic attacks.

 ~ I would not have such a strong connection with my husband.

 ~ I would be less comfortable with my body.

~ I would be shorter. (Seriously, I grew an inch.)

~ I would not have had the experience of doing yoga in a foreign country.

~ I would struggle more with depression.

~ I would have continuing back problems from my injury.

So, yeah, some days it’s hard to get myself to the studio. Some days it feels extra hot and humid and the yoga truck runs me over. Some days I feel stiff and my backbend is not as pretty as I want it to be. Some days I just want to sit on the couch and watch re-runs of Top Chef.

But when I look at it all cumulatively, the only logical thing to do is to go put on those tiny shorts.

Namaste.

You might also like:

• You’re not a yogi just because you do yoga
  
• If you’re terrified, you’re doing it right: authenticity
  
• In which I explain the difference between yoga clothes and underwear
  

New post at Elephant Journal: Learning to be still

Tags

acceptance, acting, community, life choices, meditation, mindfulness, Monkey mind, yoga

Hello, yogis!

I hope all of you North American readers had a lovely Labor Day weekend.

I wanted to share my brand new article about meditation, which was just published in Elephant Journal!

Learning to be still

“It’s funny,” my therapist said, “most people get panic attacks about things that will never happen. You get panic attacks about something that happens pretty often.”

I didn’t think it was that funny.

Please click here to read more.

And as always, thank you so much for all your support – it’s never easy talking about anxiety and panic attacks in a public forum. But the open-heartedness I’ve felt here has made it possible for me to share and hopefully, be of use to someone who is dealing with similar challenges.

I hope you enjoy the article.

Peace,

Lisa

You might also like:

• Meditation information: umm, what are we doing??
• Meditations on Meditating
• Why you should meditate even if you suck at it

Dear K: thoughts for the yoga-curious

Tags

beginner, inflexible

A while ago, a friend asked me some questions about getting started with a yoga practice.

I’m not sure if she expected the impassioned diatribe that her email evoked.

Her concerns were pretty universal; I was worried about all these things when I first started, too. I’ve heard them many times from all kinds of people. When I say I do yoga, they say they would like to try it, but…

So, here is what I said to my friend. Maybe this can be useful to someone else.

Dear K,

Let me address your concerns.

“I am unbendy.”

Yes – that’s because you don’t do yoga, yet. Yoga is where you go to learn to get bendy. When someone tells me they can’t do yoga because they are not flexible, that’s like saying you can’t take piano lessons because you can’t play Mozart. As you go, you get bendy. I had a really hard time touching my toes when I started. There will be people in class that are bendier than you, but that’s okay. They were unbendy when they started.

“My body hurts.”

Absolutely. But the thing with finding a great yoga class/teacher is that it is a very safe way to get yourself moving. It’s still a hell of a workout, so in the beginning you are going to be as sore as you would be in a Body Pump class. But you’ll get strong as hell, too. When I walked into a yoga studio at the age of 30, I didn’t know it would lead to being pain-free for the first time in almost 20 years. Yeah, it ached a little getting there, but it was so worth it.

“I feel ridiculous.”

I love this point because it is honest and so very important. Yoga deals with the body but it is so much more about managing the mind. It’s a moving meditation and everything that you need to deal with emotionally is going to come up. You are doing yoga so that you can let go and kill your ego. Everyone in the class, regardless of how skinny or bendy or cute they look in their short-shorts, had a first class where they felt lost and scared and incompetent. It’s just part of the deal. The yoga studio is where you learn to stop being so hard on yourself, stop judging yourself and just be in the moment and do the best you can. Ditch the desire to be the best yogi in the room. I’ve been doing this 4 years, 4 times a week and work really hard at it – I’m nowhere near the best in the room. But that is not the point in the slightest. It’s your own time, your own workout, your own mediation to deal with your own stuff.

Yogis tend to be a very non-judgmental group. They are usually just thrilled that you are interested in learning about the practice that they love. No one expects you to be good when you are a beginner. (And you are considered a beginner for like, 10 years.)

I’ve struggled through classes – right after my dog died, right after a long flight and right after I made some unfortunate food/drink choices. And sometimes my classes are really hard for no discernible reason.  But I’ve always felt like my class has embraced me and it was totally fine, because we’ve all been there. No one wondered why I wasn’t doing a better backbend or why I sat down so early. We do yoga in a group and love that communal energy but it’s a totally individual practice.

Yoga has stopped my panic attacks, fixed issues lingering from my broken back and strengthened my marriage. I will be eternally grateful to the practice.

So, take a deep breath, get out there and play around with different styles. Give it at least three classes before you decided if you like it. Give yourself permission to fall down and look silly and be new. You deserve that.

With all my love (to all you budding yogis)

~Lisa

You might also like:

• Remembering the first time
• Ouch? Recognizing the difference between pain and discomfort
  
• What is Bikram yoga?
  
• What I wish I had known as a Bikram yoga beginner
  

Yoga retreat recap

Tags

Bikram yoga, community, Mexico, Travel, Tulum, yoga retreat

The idea of recapping my recent yoga retreat in Tulum, Mexico is daunting. How do I even begin to capture it?

There was yoga everyday and beautiful whole foods (mostly vegan) and unbelievably pristine beaches where you could plop yourself down on the sand and meditate on the vastness of the universe.

There were also oceanside hammocks where you could spend the afternoon in blissful semi-consciousness while rarely clothed, joyful people frolicked in the blue-green waves. We played with Synergy and swam in caves and visited the Mayan ruins.

We also practiced Bikram yoga every morning. We sucked in our bellies and locked our knees and did our 80/20 breathing. Francisco and Esak (lovingly) picked on us and challenged us and cheered us on.

The palapa where we practiced yoga every day

We did yoga in a palapa, outside, so the temperature was much chillier than us Bikram yogis are used to. Without the heat and without the mirrors, my familiar 26+2 yoga practice was transformed into something very different. It forced even more presence and acceptance. Backbends were not as deep, but grips were stronger. The heat didn’t exhaust me, but it also didn’t allow for the nice, sweaty sliding of legs in eagle pose. Without being able to see my alignment in the mirror, I just had to feel it, I had to tune into my body more and connect on a deeper level.

It wasn’t better or worse than a regular practice. It just was.

But the most significant part of the retreat for me, was the thing that I find most significant about Bikram yoga in general – the sense of community.

I’m really shy. I’m incredibly introverted and somewhat socially awkward, though I’m getting a little better. I was nervous about a “group vacation” with group meals and group excursions and just so damn much togetherness.

But it was such joy to meet this group of yogis. What fun it was to sit around at dinner and geek out on the nuances of spinal alignment and quad strength. How wonderful to share our passion and learn about studios in other parts of the world. What a great feeling to come home and have 20 new yogi friends.

Big pile of yogis

We were students, teachers and studio owners. Some of us had been practicing for decades, others had discovered the practice just six months ago. But we were all bonded by this love of yoga. We shared stories of how the hot room had healed our broken backs and broken hearts. It was a pretty special thing.

I think I’m still processing this retreat, so expect more stories to come. I HAVE to tell you guys about the sweat lodge…

You might also like: 

• Yoga retreat in Tulum, Mexico
  
• Letting go even applies to yoga
  
• My Bikram buddy
  

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.

You might also like:

• My Bikram buddy
  
• Letting go even applies to yoga
  
• Down dogs in the night: yoga for insomnia
  

Remembering the first time

Tags

acceptance, beginner, Bikram yoga, health

I was in the bathroom after class, pressing my face and body against the cool metal wall of the stall – wishing I would just throw up and then die and get it over with.

That is my most vivid memory of my first Bikram class.

I always love hearing about people’s first experiences with Bikram. It’s like hearing about how a couple first met. Some people take to it immediately. Others not-so-much. I was a not-so-much person.

I don’t like extreme things. I don’t respond to tough love. I hate the heat, I hate saunas, I hate sweat.

On the surface, there is no reason I should love Bikram.

But I do. A lot.

However, the early part of our relationship was rocky.

When I walked in to the hot room for the first time, I remember thinking that I couldn’t spend five minutes in a room that hot. This was ridiculous. This had to be dangerous.

I sat out many, many postures. Can’t remember how many because I think I was blacking out.

Halfway through, I noticed that I couldn’t hear anything. The teacher was talking like one of those teachers from Charlie Brown, all I heard was blood rushing through my ears. Trying to figure out my left from my right felt like deciphering the Rosetta Stone. Lying on my back felt like running a marathon.

When class ended, I wanted to cry the way you do when you realize things might be alright after all. I had survived.

I walked out of the studio and decided Bikram yoga people were all nuts; like the people who get a kick out of doing those army-like obstacle courses, covered in slimy mud.

But on the Bikram yoga studio website it said you should do three classes before you judge. Being an avid rule follower, I dragged my still-aching body back to the studio three days later. The second class was a little better and the third class felt like an IV of joy pumped directly into my soul.

I was hooked.

Three years later, that studio feels like second home. It is the place where I get amazing support. It is the place where I detox, renew and connect.

It’s where I go to feel better, to heal my stiff body, clear my wandering mind and calm my anxious heart. Yes, it’s still a place where I work hard, but not so hard that I disconnect. I work so hard that I finally feel everything and I finally stop running away from life.

So, it’s a good reminder for me not to judge anything too quickly. Who knows where something might lead? I never would have guessed that place where I was pressing my face against a bathroom stall would end up being where I go to celebrate this body, this moment and this life.

How was your first class?

You might also like:

• Bikram yoga for panic attacks
• Ouch? Recognizing the difference between pain and discomfort
  
• 10 things that make me happy: yoga edition
  

Just unroll your mat: thoughts on motivation

Tags

Bikram yoga, health, motivation, resolutions

This time of year, everyone is making resolutions and promises and trying to be improved versions of themselves.

I was talking to my dad recently about motivation and he was telling me that he just doesn’t get excited about working out.

He was shocked that I could relate.

“You don’t love going to yoga?” He asked me.

I love having gone to yoga. I love it when it’s done. The majority of the time, when it’s time to go to class, I’d much rather stay home and lie around on the couch.

We have this idea that the rest of the world jumps out of bed with an enthusiastic vigor, dying to go to yoga/Zumba/the gym/whatever. We think there is something defective about us if we are not that way.

I suppose there are those nutty people who are hardwired with that kind of pep, but most of us don’t fall into that category. I certainly don’t. Luckily, we don’t have to.

Because we all brush our teeth.

Oral hygiene in itself is not a thrilling activity. It’s not something I normally look forward to or get excited about. But when I’m done and my mouth is all minty and clean, it feels good. And what’s more – when I don’t brush, my life gets unpleasant very quickly. I do it because when I don’t do it, things fall apart.

I see yoga (and meditation) that way. Sure, there are days where I am dying to get in the hot room and each posture is a joy. But usually, the motivation is in the knowledge of what it’s doing for me in the long haul. I have seen the proof that it makes my life and my health (mental and physical) better in a myriad of ways.

So, don’t worry if you are not the cheerleader who is jonesing for the adrenalin hit. You are just like the rest of us.

But get your ass on the mat, anyway, because that final savasana is going to be awesome.

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Why you should meditate even if you suck at it

Tags

meditation, Monkey mind, spirituality

Because it’s better than watching another episode of House Hunters International.

Because even three seconds of stillness is better than no seconds of stillness.

Because sitting down to meditate sets the intention – and intention is everything.

Because little by little, your concentration will improve.

Because you feel incredible after.

Because you probably don’t suck at it.

Because science (and Buddha) says it’s good for you.

Because it’s important to be alone for a little while each day.

Because it’s good to occasionally disconnect from email, Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.

Because there is a great relief in stopping the deluge of thoughts, or at least realizing they are just thoughts – repetitive, unhelpful thoughts – and not the real you.

Because you’ll find that when you meditate, mindfulness creeps into the rest of your life. You will remember to breathe deeply and be in the moment as you are moving through your day. I believe that is the whole purpose of life – to wake up and be truly present for it.

Because once in a while you can hear that little voice deep inside you, the one that tells you the truth about everything and guides you in the right direction. But you have to be very quiet to hear it.

Because it’s like brushing your teeth. It might not be fun or sexy but it’s going to make the rest of your life, and the lives of those around you, much better.

So for all those reasons and a million more, I’ll be meditating today.

—————–

You might also like:

• Meditation information: setting up a space
  
• Meditation information: umm, what are we doing??
  
• Om Mani Padme – wait, what was that?
  

Benched: what happens when you can’t do yoga?

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, health, meditation, yoga

You cannot do yoga. Yoga is your natural state. What you can do are yoga exercises, which may reveal to you where you are resisting your natural state.

~ Sharon Gannon

I’m under doctor’s orders to not go to yoga.

This is an unfortunate development.

I mentioned a while ago that my ankle was bothering me. Well, 5 weeks later, it’s not any better, so clearly my strategy of doing yoga and just “going easy” isn’t working.

So, I’m benched for a while.

I need to rest my ankle as much as possible over the next couple of weeks. I thought about being rebellious and ignoring my doctor, but the truth is that I want this ankle thing to be over. It’s better to take a hiatus and let it heal, rather than stubbornly keep going to yoga while I prolong the issue.

But this brings up another matter. I’m kinda hooked on yoga. When I don’t go, of course my body gets stiff but – it’s much more about my mind. A dear friend once told me that Bikram helps her to “sweat out the crazy.” Amen to that.

It’s easy for me to panic about not going to yoga and resign myself to the idea that if I can’t do my regular practice that I’m destined to be stressed and anxious.

But that’s a cop-out.

Peace, compassion and patience are all things that I am capable of — the yoga just helps get me there. Even without the postures or the hot room, I have the capacity for a still mind. I can control the crazy. I just have to work a little harder for it.

So, on my hiatus, I’ll be working on other things that calm my mind and comfort my soul. I’ll be sticking closely to my daily meditation schedule — at least 20 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes at night. I’ll be trying my best to continue that mindfulness during the day. (And yes, I’m doing a very light home practice that doesn’t put any weight on my ankle, let’s just not mention that to my doctor.)

I miss yoga terribly, but this is one of those things that is annoying in the short term but beneficial in the long term.

I’m working on my acceptance and knowing that my practice will always be there for me. I’m trying to remember that yoga is my natural state.

You might also like:

• Meditation information: setting up a space
• If you’re terrified, you’re doing it right: authenticity
• Just now now: sunset stillness