Travel yoga and humidity humility

Tags

acceptance, Bikram yoga, Bikram yoga Brickell, community, gratitude, hot yoga, Miami, travel yoga, yoga with friends

Bikram Yoga Brickell in Miami

Recently, Husband had a work trip in Florida. He asked me if I wanted to go with him to Fort Myers and it was February and I’m not stupid so I said yes.

While he did work stuff, I took a little road trip to Miami to see a dear friend of mine who now lives there. She is a Bikramite but had not practiced in a while, since she was expecting her cutie-pie son. He was 9-weeks old and Mama needed the hot room. I was honored to be able to go with her to her first class back.

Understandably, she was nervous about returning to yoga. She wondered if anyone would remember her (they did) and if she would spend the whole class crying on the floor (she didn’t). But I was nervous, too. I always get nervous before travel yoga. I was anxious about what the room/teacher/students/temperature would be like.

This is the paragraph where I explain what all the problems were. Like, it was vacation yoga and I had been eating vacation food (fried artichoke and goat cheese po’boy, anyone?) and I’m not used to practicing that late in the evening (we were doing our first sit up around the time that I usually go to bed) and I had cramps and it’s really humid in Florida and …yeah.

I can come up with a lot of reasons why it wasn’t totally my fault that the woman who was still recovering from a c-section was pretty much kicking my ass.

But I realized during the second set of bow pose I had to take my own advice and sit down before I passed out.

Doing yoga in Miami is a little different than in Virginia. It was just a little…showier. There were modified breasts and rippling abs. Even in February there were a lot of tans. So, I had to dig extra deep into my pasty white soul to feel good about collapsing on my mat while everyone else locked out their knees.

I looked in the mirror, attempting to sit stoically. That annoying little part of me that wanted my friend/the teacher/Miss Boob Job to think I was a great yogi: that’s all just ego. That’s not helpful to me or anyone. This is the practice. But still, it flared up and tested me.

So, looked at that reflection of myself – an exhausted, wrung-out yogi on the floor – and tried to be kind. I tried to be present and breathe. Eventually, I got off the floor and back to the postures.

And when class was over I was so proud of my brave friend. As we walked to Publix and bought Coconut waters and cut up watermelon, she said she had been struck by the teacher’s comment that the mirror was “for alignment, not for judgement” and how she was grateful for the freedom to remove self-criticism completely.

I nodded, and it occurred to me for the first time that it’s not just alignment of your hips, it’s about alignment with the truth. Alignment with the moment. Alignment with your authentic self. Alignment with what is possible, and not possible, that day.

And then my friend got teary-eyed and said that even though class was hard, it was the first time in a long while that she had just taken a deep breath.

And she reminded me what this whole thing is about.

Thanks, L.

————————————–

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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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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

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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…

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Letting go even applies to yoga

Tags

ahimsa, Bikram yoga, community, health, pranayama

When I was nineteen, I had this boyfriend. I was obsessed with him. On the rare occasions that we weren’t together, I was talking about him ad nauseam. I dropped all my friends and most of my life to be with him. I clung so tightly. The desperation made me feel miserable and made him feel trapped. It was totally unhealthy and it ended poorly.

I used to cling to yoga this way. When I say “used to” I mean…like…a month ago.

I’ve been on a forced yoga hiatus and I have to say, it’s been wonderful for me.

The reason I clung so tightly – to both the boyfriend and the yoga – was that I didn’t trust that they would always really be there for me. I worried that they would reject me, or maybe I would be the one to get bored and need something new. I was hanging on for dear life in an attempt to keep things status quo.

But it seems that I’ve grown up a little and learned some things. Things like:

“You only lose what you cling to.” ~Buddha

This break from Bikram class has allowed me to step back and create a more healthy relationship with yoga. There is no need to cling. I can hold it softly, lightly, without crushing it. I can take a break without threatening the survival of my yoga.

It is intertwined into every part of my life, it is a part of me and always will be. There is no need to prove to anyone that I’m a yogi – I don’t even need to prove it to myself. I can trust it. I can relax.

Because yoga is about so much more than just asana practice. It is the way I live my life. It’s the 8 Limbs. It’s pranayama and ahimsa and meditation. It’s what I choose to eat and the way I choose to see the world. It’s all yoga.

I’m glad to be back to the asana practice after my hiatus. I missed it and I missed my yogi community. Walking into that hot room after 3 weeks away felt like a big giant hug. My practice is not as strong as it was before I took the break but that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. My relationship with the yoga is different. It’s deeper. More settled. There is a stillness and a security that is new. This is no fling; we’re in it for the long haul.

For richer or poorer.

In sickness and in health.

Until death do us part.

———————————————-

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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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Posture clinic with Mary Jarvis

Tags

Bikram yoga, comfort zone, community, Mary Jarvis, posture clinic

I’m yoga nervous.

(Is that a thing?)

This weekend, Husband and I are doing a seminar with Bikram’s senior teacher, Mary Jarvis.

This is her.

Photo via Mary Jarvis Bikram Yoga Blog

So, you can understand my yoga nervousness.

When Mary began doing Bikram yoga, she had been suffering chronic pain from a car accident. She came to the hot room wearing a back brace and a neck brace and was barely able to move. This practice allowed her to avoid surgery and manage her depression. Since I am no stranger to back pain or anxiety, her story touches me.

But I’m still totally intimidated.

I’ve heard wonderful things about her teaching style, including the fact that she likes to provide individual attention and help students get the most out of their postures.

Gulp.

Generally speaking, getting corrections in class is difficult for me. (Sorry, did I say “difficult”? I meant “mortifying.”)

I used to assume that adjustments were a public shaming, rather than an expression of faith in my ability to improve. That is one of the (many) demons that I face in the hot room. I’ve slowly learned to take notes from my teachers as they are intended – with love and encouragement. I’ve only recently realized that corrections are actually a good thing.

But Mary is not one of my regular teachers. She is new person who is going to push me in new ways. Encourage me to make my practice better. Deeper. It’s wonderful and I did voluntarily sign up and pay money for this, but the truth remains that it’s out of my comfort zone.

However, my Bikram Buddy will be there with me. As will my community of fantastic, supportive yogis at my studio.

The day will begin with a class at 9:45 AM. (Apparently, it’s like a regular class but is two hours long, rather than 90 minutes. I wonder how that works?) Then – it’ll be a posture clinic for the rest of the day, until 6:30 PM!

My mind reels with things like – damn, that’s a long time in the hot room!! What food should I take with me? How many beverages? How many breaks will we take? What about my usual Saturday afternoon nap?? Damn, that’s a long time in the hot room!!

I’ve gotten fairly comfortable with my practice lately. Yoga and I have come to this familiar place with few surprises. My backbend will be stiff on the first set and feel awesome on the second set, and my hips will be notoriously out of alignment in Standing Bow. The teachers know me and my practice. I know where I’m likely to get a correction and where I can kind of coast. It’s all very copasetic.

So, the truth is — I need this. I need a little shove out of the nest and into a deeper place. I need to be challenged, in mind even more than in body. I need to acknowledge the nerves and do it anyway.

Because beyond the insecurities and the fear, deeper than the nagging little voice that says I can’t do it and I’m going to look stupid – that’s where the stillness is. That’s where the opportunity is. That’s where the bliss is.

Namaste, yogis.

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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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