How to Make the Season of Giving Last All Year Long

Many years ago, I went to a yoga class when I was on a vacation in South Carolina and the teacher kept saying things like, “this pose isn’t for you; it’s for someone else” and “give away this pose”. Every time she would say things like that, I would bristle.

What do you mean, this isn’t for me?

This time that I’ve worked so hard to carve out this time for yoga practice? This warrior 2 we’ve been holding here for an eternity? This backbend I’ve been attempted so diligently? These millions of rounds of kapala bhati? This busy mind of mine that I’ve been working to understand for years in my meditations? No, no, no. This is ONLY for me!

Then back in October, I went on a retreat with my best friend. The whole weekend was only for me; it was a girls-only weekend getaway reminiscent of the road tripping my friend and I used to do together back in our college days.

Several times throughout the weekend, Natalie Miller, the retreat leader, would say something like, “be generous to yourself.”

To be honest, going on that retreat felt like a big splurge, one that I felt a tad bit guilty about, but with Natalie’s reminders I started to remember that by practicing yoga, by setting aside a whole weekend to practice and just be, I was giving a very generous gift to myself. And it was a gift I deserved!

All weekend long, I noticed that I was more patient with myself when I didn’t know what to do. I was more forgiving when I messed something up. And above all, I was more curious than judgmental about my reactions to things.

But the unexpected thing was that all of the amazing benefits of my generous practice time ended up working to the benefit of others.

I didn’t feel flustered when the drive home took an hour longer than usual and I ended up 10 minutes late for a workshop I was teaching. My husband noted how relaxed I still looked and acted, even the day after I returned home. I felt undisturbed by the giant pile of laundry that had accumulated in my absence, something that otherwise would have caused me great angst.

You get the idea, right?

So I guess you could say that it just took me a really long time to learn the lesson that teacher was trying to impart in that class so long ago when she kept telling me that my yoga practice was for someone else.

Yoga practicing is an act of generosity and the benefits extended well beyond the practitioner.

Now as we are sitting at the end of the season of giving, I offer you a challenge. Come to your yoga practice this month, not because of a New Year’s Resolution and not because you are committing to change something about yourself.

Come to your practice as an act of generosity to yourself. Because you deserve it!

Practice and practice often. And notice how your practice benefits you and also everyone around you. It’s the best way to keep the season of giving happening all year long.

Kind, Fierce, Brave

meditation

Gratitude

thanksgiving-2016

Balance, Not Symmetry

standing-sage

Threads of the Prakriti Carpet

The thing I love the most about home makeover shows is where they find something really valuable and unexpected under some badly designed wall or worn out carpet or boarded up fireplace. That stuff that’s over the top of the hidden treasure, like that old ugly carpet, is just like the yogic concept of prakriti.

Prakriti is the stuff of the material world. You can think about it as layers of forces or energy. The Sanskrit word for these forces/energies is guna. The word guna literally means strand or string or thread. So you can think about the gunas as the threads that make up a cloth. That cloth is prakriti.

In The Bhagavad Gita, the gunas are described as the threads of the cloth that make a mask or a veil. And that veil, like the bad 70’s shag carpet in the Fixer Upper house, is disguising something amazing.

One way to apply this in a more practical way is to start to consider what is underneath, out of sight for you. What is behind your desire to practice yoga? What is happening in your yoga poses that is more than just the outward appearance of the shape of the pose? What motivates you on (and off!) your mat? What is the intention that informs and underpins your yoga practice?

The fall is the perfect time to start to ask these questions and settle into the ways that yoga practice can serve you best through the colder and darker months ahead.

The Impermanence of [F]all

Fall is the perfect time to remember the law of impermanence. Quite simply, nothing lasts. Ah, of course! But that’s not something that is easy to grasp or practice, right? On one hand, it’s a relief to know that whatever miserable thing that is happening won’t last. (Okay, maybe it lasts longer that I might like, but it won’t last forever!) But then on the other hand, it’s quite a downer to realize those moments of bliss and complete delight are not going to last either.

I can tell you with complete certainty that all of the suffering in my life has been when I’ve mistaken the impermanent for the permanent. When I’ve expected the blissful moments to remain the same and was then deeply distraught when they didn’t last.

Yoga is offering us these tools to be present to whatever is happening at any given moment. Yoga is not requiring or even asking us to transcend the mundane parts of our lives. It’s not even asking us to get beyond the “down” moments!

My teachers recently sent me an email that said, “You are not your worst day. You are not your best day. You are the awareness that allows you to recognize those extremes and everything else in between.”

Yoga simply says to us, here are some tools to try out. Use them to be more fully aware of yourself and all of the ways you can and will change. Because, as the old adage goes: this too shall pass.

Not the Territory

m-sage-twist

The Call of Autumn

I’m so weary of this hot late summer heat. And while it is a big relief to have the kids back to school and the corresponding routines settling into place, this transition back into the fall has me feeling all out of sorts.

In an effort to ward off my fall transition funk, I took a wonderful Yin Yoga class with the predictably phenomenal Machelle Lee. During class, she reminded me of this old Krulwich Wonders piece I heard long ago on NPR about what happens to leaves in the fall.

Of course this season gets its name because the leaves from trees fall. But what is actually happening is much more fascinating. If leaves were to stay on the tree in winter, they would photosynthesize during the warm part of the day and then they would have water in their veins, which would freeze. That frozen water would cause the leaves to die. With the leaves dead, the tree would died shortly thereafter.

Perhaps even more fascinating, as a way to defend against this possibility, the leaves don’t actually fall from the tree. Instead, the tree develops these cells that cut off the leaves. Basically the tree pushes the leaves off. It’s as if the tree is saying, ‘Get out of here, leaves; it’s time for me to cut back and hunker down for what’s to come.’

This is the call of the season:fall leaves

Get grounded.

Pare down.

Take care of yourself.

 

So consider this your official autumnal invitation to get back to your mat. The fall semester at Willow Street begins Tuesday, September 6. Check out my full list of weekly classes.

And there is still space for you to join my annual fall retreat. There is one room for 4, 2 spots in a room for 3, and one spot in a room for 2.

Plus, if you are ready to take your yoga practice to the next level, the Willow Street Immersion begins September 9. It is such a huge honor to be a part of this program.

Hope I’ll see you soon!

What is before your feet?

feet forward fold

Undisturbed by Dualities: The Yoga of Politics?

Sometime ago, a friend of mine posted a photo quote on Facebook: “No one is you and that is your power.” I replied saying, “But also everyone is you and that is your power.” We had a chuckle over that and even more so when someone else weighed in to say “You aren’t even you.”

The Sanskrit word avidya is sometimes translated as ignorance. While adviya does mean ignorance, it also means misconception. It’s the word that describes mistaking illusion for reality or the mistaking the impermanent things for permanent. In other words, incorrect knowledge.

In B.K.S. Iynegar’s translation of the Yoga Sutra he writes, “when asana is practiced with steadiness and ease, the infinite being within is reached. From then on, the practitioner is undisturbed by dualities.”

Mr. Iyengar’s read on Patanjali is that we’ve got to bring our whole selves – body, breath, and mind – to each pose. When we do that, we can be steady and easeful in asana practice, and we recognition more fully our capacity for connections in this microcosm that is our individual self. We are undisturbed by dualities when we acknowledge the separations for what they are. The divisions that are a covering for the ways things are deeply connected.

When I think back of the moments when I’ve feel the most distraught and disturbed by the challenges I’ve faced, it’s always because I’ve identified more fully with the way I was separate from others. And this distress continues for me full-force in today’s contentious political environment.

It’s easy to say that the folks who disagree with us are inferior, uneducated, separate from us. It’s easy to just disregard them or maybe outright argue with them in an effort to make them change their minds. How many times have I tried to point out that I’m not like THAT person!?

But what happens when we say, “they are us too”? Is it possible to recognize ourselves in the other? How can we do this without validating racism, misogyny, bigotry, lying, and just plain bullying?

I don’t know the answer. And maybe it’s just the peace, love, and understanding hippie dippy part of me that is foolish for even thinking this is possible.

But think about this: if the body is a microcosm for the way the world, nature, and all of humanity interact and it’s possible to practice asana in the body in such a way that we know without a doubt that we are connected to ourselves, then I think it’s possible to make this jump too:

Everyone is you.

Even the awful racist, misogynist, bullying, lying, egotistical maniacs.

And believe me, that guy scares me. A lot. But perhaps there is more power in saying that we are connected. We are responsible for that guy. We are that guy. Whoa.