Wednesday, August 25, 2010
change on the wind
There is something so invigorating about the first promises of fall; the chill in the nigh air, the crisp smell of morning and the blessed coolness on the back of the breeze. After being mired down by the often heavy and grueling air of late summer, autumn seems to offer us lightness, in my life fall does mark the winding down of a crazy work season so there I do in fact feel lighter. My schedule opens up and is immediately filled with potential and it’s that freeing up and hope for change that I’m trying to bring into my yoga practice. In the Ayuvedic tradition there are three Doshas (constitutions) that a person can be classified as and in addition to having our main dosha we also have periods when the other doshas play a leading role. The doshas are: Vata (air), Pita (fire) and Kapha (earth), so one may be a Kapha but being going through a Pita phase. This summer for me has been a very Pita phase. My tenacity for learning and experimenting has had my fire dosha running so high I’m a little amazed I didn’t spontaneously combusted! I was drawn to Ashtanga type practices and devoured books about anything having to do with yoga or meditation or conscious living. All of which had my brain clicking so fast that not I laugh at how I thought I would actually begin a solid meditation practice amidst all that revelry. So now, as autumn whispers her pending arrival I can feel my internal fire smoldering into embers, a low steady heat to keep me warm through the coming chill but not so blazing that I refuse to slip into a Kapha (earth) phase of quiet contemplation and ease into a gentler more Anusara like yoga practice. What will this season of change bring to you?
Monday, August 2, 2010
the balls of yoga
My job outside of being a yoga teacher and new Studio owner is a seasonal job in theater, throughout the summer technicians, designers and artisans trickle in and out. Recently, while greeting a returning designer he mentioned hearing of my buying a house and opening a yoga studio here in this tiny town (which I love), I confirmed this and said how happy I was with my home and how great the Grand Opening was. He also remarked that I must be very good with finances in order to have taken on two big expenses in such a short amount of time, I cackled a bit and said “no, no not at all! I’m a little nervous but I’ll figure something out.” I talked a little about my plan for the winter, when the tiny town and surrounding areas tighten their belts. He listened patiently and finally responded, “you’ve got balls!” and I guess, on a certain level he’s right. Though I think it has less to do with having balls than it does with having no fear, not in general because I do have fears but what I do not fear is failure and even more specifically, rock bottom.
See I’ve hit rock bottom; physically, emotionally and financially. I’ve always managed to pick myself up and start over. When I was very fortunate I had loved ones who helped me out but there were also times when I couldn’t seek help, for whatever reason I had to do it alone. I won’t go so far as to say that rock bottom is a good place to be or enjoyable but what it does offer in lessons, profound lessons, and growth. And the lessons I learned while crawling up from the abyss and the scars I’ve watched heal over as I grew back up again hold more weight and significance than almost any other experience I’ve had. So when the universe presented me with a home and then a month later a studio not for a second did I hesitate. I don’t know how my parents did it, I don’t remember any one thing they did or conversation we had that instilled in me the notion that I could do anything, but they did and for that I am so grateful.
When I first had the idea for Second Star it felt instantly right and that’s it. There was no sense of urgency or even importance, just right. Like getting home after work and taking off your work shoes and slipping into your favorite worn out slippers. Comfort and familiarity; that’s how Second Star felt. On some level I knew that I would get there, some time, somehow when it was right. So when I decided at the beginning of this year that I would let go of the steering wheel and listen to the universe it made sense that this was the year my life would fall into place. And THIS is one of the things I strive the hardest to portray to my yoga students. Let go, listen respect and you will get there.
When practicing yoga especially difficult asanas like inversions and arm balances if you follow those three steps you will get there. Let go: let go of it all; the ego, the idea of the final asana, the calculated plan of attack. Just be in the flow, trust that the effort you are making and the path that you are taking will get you there. Listen: to your body. You can feel when something is not right, there is a distinct difference in the sensation of discomfort and work that the sensation of pain. Your body will tell you when you’ve gone awry. Respect; give honor to where you are in your practice and where you are in your body. There’s no one way to reach the goal of asana and no matter how much further you have to go to “get there” doesn’t lessen your practice just the way it is. And I guess the last step would be to have balls, try standing on your head or balancing on your hands. How far do you have to fall? And trust me hitting the mat is a lot more comfortable than hitting rock bottom. The lessons however, very similar.
See I’ve hit rock bottom; physically, emotionally and financially. I’ve always managed to pick myself up and start over. When I was very fortunate I had loved ones who helped me out but there were also times when I couldn’t seek help, for whatever reason I had to do it alone. I won’t go so far as to say that rock bottom is a good place to be or enjoyable but what it does offer in lessons, profound lessons, and growth. And the lessons I learned while crawling up from the abyss and the scars I’ve watched heal over as I grew back up again hold more weight and significance than almost any other experience I’ve had. So when the universe presented me with a home and then a month later a studio not for a second did I hesitate. I don’t know how my parents did it, I don’t remember any one thing they did or conversation we had that instilled in me the notion that I could do anything, but they did and for that I am so grateful.
When I first had the idea for Second Star it felt instantly right and that’s it. There was no sense of urgency or even importance, just right. Like getting home after work and taking off your work shoes and slipping into your favorite worn out slippers. Comfort and familiarity; that’s how Second Star felt. On some level I knew that I would get there, some time, somehow when it was right. So when I decided at the beginning of this year that I would let go of the steering wheel and listen to the universe it made sense that this was the year my life would fall into place. And THIS is one of the things I strive the hardest to portray to my yoga students. Let go, listen respect and you will get there.
When practicing yoga especially difficult asanas like inversions and arm balances if you follow those three steps you will get there. Let go: let go of it all; the ego, the idea of the final asana, the calculated plan of attack. Just be in the flow, trust that the effort you are making and the path that you are taking will get you there. Listen: to your body. You can feel when something is not right, there is a distinct difference in the sensation of discomfort and work that the sensation of pain. Your body will tell you when you’ve gone awry. Respect; give honor to where you are in your practice and where you are in your body. There’s no one way to reach the goal of asana and no matter how much further you have to go to “get there” doesn’t lessen your practice just the way it is. And I guess the last step would be to have balls, try standing on your head or balancing on your hands. How far do you have to fall? And trust me hitting the mat is a lot more comfortable than hitting rock bottom. The lessons however, very similar.
Monday, June 21, 2010
There are times when we feel depleted; spread too thin, emotionally over taxed, or tested once too often. It can feel like you’ve exhaled all of your air but cannot breathe in. so what to do in times like these, how do we pull ourselves up when we have no reserve left? This is the question I’ve been struggling with for a time now and I still don’t have an answer but today I had a thought. Surrender. I’ve been running around trying to find a way to “fix” myself and all the things and situations around me and nothing worked. Fighting fire with fire, or exhaustion with more work and I didn’t even realize how useless it was and how I had created a tornado, spiraling in on itself and sucking up all my joy. So today when the threat of rain cancelled all my “get happy” plans I decided just to give up. I drove to the lake with my dog rain or now rain to sit by the water and feel a little nature. While i was driving I used the time to test out a new yoga mix I was building for class. While I was driving listening to George Harrison sing “My Sweet Lord” and the chorus behind him sing salutations in Sanskrit to the deities the sun came out and for a moment my tired soul lifted. In my heart I thought “ok, I’m just going to surrender now and trust that something out there has a better idea of what is supposed to happen.” It was a moment of freedom. I can’t fight anymore, people will think what they want, injuries will happen, friends will come and go and the only thing I can do is trust. Trust that for whatever reason someone may have for something that is their truth, if I try to change them it will most likely just lead to more conflict. I can’t magically heal my shoulder so I will have compassion while I practice and trust that I will heal and maybe even learn something new about my body. And friends, I can’t hold on to expectations whatever is going on in their lives is their own and I have to trust that they do love me and will make time for me when they can. Though my moment of freedom in the car was not long lived I do feel, even at the bottom of this well, that I will feel free again and my joy will return. And that’s the gift yoga has given me today, the freedom to not have and answer but to believe and feel certain one will come.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
the story of Second Star
“second star to the right and straight on till morning…”
I’ve always wanted to be Peter Pan; grinning and free; sweeping up lost children and flying them off to a place where they create their own perfect world. Neverland. What a beautiful concept.
Years ago I was working at a spa in Atlanta and while consulting a client about what she was hoping to get out of her hour long massage she replied, “I want to go to Neverland.” I smiled and in my head I thought, “second star to the right…” and that was the moment I knew how I could be Peter Pan, sort of. If I could create a space where for one hour people leave there lives and just be…just be…then for one hour maybe they will find themselves in Neverland. So almost 10 years later I am opening Second Star Studio, my life’s dream, a place to walk into and leave the world outside.
I visited the town I now live in for the first time 4 summers ago. As I drove out of the city 45 minutes to the west and watched the scenery melt into rolling hills and farm land speckled with the odd village or township I could feel myself ease, like my entire body was taking a long sigh. By the time I pulled into my tiny town I was grinning. By the very next morning I knew I had found home. It took 3 more years of returning in the summers before I managed to move here year round but I knew the timing was right. I bought a house and settled into my role as town yoga teacher. I thought “ok I’ll do this for a while, maybe a year or two, and then start looking for a place to open a studio.” A month later I had rented a store front.
The old video store in town had been closed for 4 years and had become a graveyard of TV and computer monitors, various scraps of drywall, ceiling tiles and carpets, and layers upon layers of dirt and dust ground into the blue linoleum floor. I had found a building but it was going to need some serious sweat equity. So I dove in. I was lucky enough when I bought the house that it was in amazing shape and even more amazing was the group of friends that showed up to help me paint and move in. So being not wiped out from the move I had plenty of time to scrub the studio. But I had no idea what a huge task that would be. For 3 weeks pushed around debris, scrubbed the floor, painted, scrubbed the floors again, shampooed the carpet and scrubbed the floors even more. When I say that there is not an inch of that studio I haven’t touch with my two hands I mean that in the most literal sense! But even in those late hours into the evening when I was tired and sore a student or co-worker would pass by and come inside to see the transformation taking place. And before I knew it I was grinning again, walking them through my plans for the design of the studio. Covered in dirt and Simple Green I was still happy because I was building my very own Neverland; place for yoga, massage, art and anything that helps people find their bliss. And on Monday the doors will open and I will teach my very first yoga class in my own studio and as most yogis would agree Savasana is pretty darn near Neverland.
It took a long time to get to my Second Star and it wasn’t easy once I did but I’m here now and I can’t wait to share it with everyone. Through all the journeying and under all the dirt there was something special waiting; a hidden potential. As yoga teach that’s what I’m always looking for in my students, the ability to do something that they may not think possible and then to guide them along the way. Just like Peter Pan scooping up the lost boys and guiding them to Neverland. So I officially call out to you, if you are looking for an escape from life for a while I’d be happy to help you find it, we’ll start at Second Star
I’ve always wanted to be Peter Pan; grinning and free; sweeping up lost children and flying them off to a place where they create their own perfect world. Neverland. What a beautiful concept.
Years ago I was working at a spa in Atlanta and while consulting a client about what she was hoping to get out of her hour long massage she replied, “I want to go to Neverland.” I smiled and in my head I thought, “second star to the right…” and that was the moment I knew how I could be Peter Pan, sort of. If I could create a space where for one hour people leave there lives and just be…just be…then for one hour maybe they will find themselves in Neverland. So almost 10 years later I am opening Second Star Studio, my life’s dream, a place to walk into and leave the world outside.
I visited the town I now live in for the first time 4 summers ago. As I drove out of the city 45 minutes to the west and watched the scenery melt into rolling hills and farm land speckled with the odd village or township I could feel myself ease, like my entire body was taking a long sigh. By the time I pulled into my tiny town I was grinning. By the very next morning I knew I had found home. It took 3 more years of returning in the summers before I managed to move here year round but I knew the timing was right. I bought a house and settled into my role as town yoga teacher. I thought “ok I’ll do this for a while, maybe a year or two, and then start looking for a place to open a studio.” A month later I had rented a store front.
The old video store in town had been closed for 4 years and had become a graveyard of TV and computer monitors, various scraps of drywall, ceiling tiles and carpets, and layers upon layers of dirt and dust ground into the blue linoleum floor. I had found a building but it was going to need some serious sweat equity. So I dove in. I was lucky enough when I bought the house that it was in amazing shape and even more amazing was the group of friends that showed up to help me paint and move in. So being not wiped out from the move I had plenty of time to scrub the studio. But I had no idea what a huge task that would be. For 3 weeks pushed around debris, scrubbed the floor, painted, scrubbed the floors again, shampooed the carpet and scrubbed the floors even more. When I say that there is not an inch of that studio I haven’t touch with my two hands I mean that in the most literal sense! But even in those late hours into the evening when I was tired and sore a student or co-worker would pass by and come inside to see the transformation taking place. And before I knew it I was grinning again, walking them through my plans for the design of the studio. Covered in dirt and Simple Green I was still happy because I was building my very own Neverland; place for yoga, massage, art and anything that helps people find their bliss. And on Monday the doors will open and I will teach my very first yoga class in my own studio and as most yogis would agree Savasana is pretty darn near Neverland.
It took a long time to get to my Second Star and it wasn’t easy once I did but I’m here now and I can’t wait to share it with everyone. Through all the journeying and under all the dirt there was something special waiting; a hidden potential. As yoga teach that’s what I’m always looking for in my students, the ability to do something that they may not think possible and then to guide them along the way. Just like Peter Pan scooping up the lost boys and guiding them to Neverland. So I officially call out to you, if you are looking for an escape from life for a while I’d be happy to help you find it, we’ll start at Second Star
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
bread for hunger, food for thought
What a terrible day to make bread, but I am. In fact at this moment I have 2 loaves of bread trying their darnedest to rise on this dreary and cold day. I would like them to turn out nice and fluffy as I am taking them to a picnic tomorrow to share with friends but like in my yoga classes I have to let go of the outcome and be content with the effort. But that’s not the lesson that was made clear to me today as I baked or kneaded rather. What became clear was that more often the harder we work the less pleasing our outcome is.
Lately I’ve been looking for ways to explain the idea of yoga as a process and respecting each step along that process. Yes we all want to be able to throw our feet over our heads into a perfect handstand or float gracefully in balancing poses. So much so that we skip the preparatory work that builds the proper strength and alignment in our bodies that make those asana available to us. I see many students struggle because they think their bodies “should” be able to do something. I try to explain that there is no one perfect asana, that every step along the way is that asana, but really, no one wants to hear that when they want to be standing on their heads. This is where I find I real distance from my students. I’ve been practicing yoga for long enough that I know my body’s limits; I know where the edge is that I can go to safely to deepen without injury. Or do I?
Today while I was kneading out my dough I remembered the words of a friend, a much better baker than I, to be gentle with the dough. My thought was the more these ingredients are mixed together the better the muffins, to which her response was, “yeah if you want hockey pucks.” Point taken my friend. In fact as I’ve started baking more over the past year or so often recipes remind us not to over work the dough or your bread will be hard as…well a hockey puck. I caught myself mixing flour, salt, eggs rapidly into the yeast mix when I remembered all that advice and I slowed it down, when it came time to turn the dough out onto the counter I very gently sprinkled with flour and pushed, rolled and turned my dough oh so tenderly. Reminding myself that even though I felt like I “should” be kneading harder that by over working the dough the bread will become stiff and hard and then I thought “just like muscles.” Ah ha! There it is the lesson I’ve been looking for for over 3 weeks.
See 3 weeks ago I decided to improve my physical practice. I have pretty limited flexibility for a yoga teach and I honestly felt I was doing my students a disservice by not being able to illustrate asanas to their full extent. So I’ve been working very hard; I’ve been running to increase stamina, extra core work to better my arm balances, lots of shoulder work etc… and you know what? I’m in pain. I’ve been over kneading my muscles and they are turning into hard achy loaves of bread. And what’s worse I’ve not being practicing what I teach; patience, acceptance, compassion. Boy did I fall of the philosophical wagon! In the amount of time it took to knead a dough ball (8 minutes roughly) I had relearned what took me years to grasp fully. Who knew baking could provide not only for our physical hungry but for our spiritual hunger as well. Actually the lesson came to me about 3 minutes into the kneading so I spent the other 5 minutes thinking about how to change my practice and to better respect my body AND my body’s limit. I would like to go into further detail about that but my timer is about to go off.
Lately I’ve been looking for ways to explain the idea of yoga as a process and respecting each step along that process. Yes we all want to be able to throw our feet over our heads into a perfect handstand or float gracefully in balancing poses. So much so that we skip the preparatory work that builds the proper strength and alignment in our bodies that make those asana available to us. I see many students struggle because they think their bodies “should” be able to do something. I try to explain that there is no one perfect asana, that every step along the way is that asana, but really, no one wants to hear that when they want to be standing on their heads. This is where I find I real distance from my students. I’ve been practicing yoga for long enough that I know my body’s limits; I know where the edge is that I can go to safely to deepen without injury. Or do I?
Today while I was kneading out my dough I remembered the words of a friend, a much better baker than I, to be gentle with the dough. My thought was the more these ingredients are mixed together the better the muffins, to which her response was, “yeah if you want hockey pucks.” Point taken my friend. In fact as I’ve started baking more over the past year or so often recipes remind us not to over work the dough or your bread will be hard as…well a hockey puck. I caught myself mixing flour, salt, eggs rapidly into the yeast mix when I remembered all that advice and I slowed it down, when it came time to turn the dough out onto the counter I very gently sprinkled with flour and pushed, rolled and turned my dough oh so tenderly. Reminding myself that even though I felt like I “should” be kneading harder that by over working the dough the bread will become stiff and hard and then I thought “just like muscles.” Ah ha! There it is the lesson I’ve been looking for for over 3 weeks.
See 3 weeks ago I decided to improve my physical practice. I have pretty limited flexibility for a yoga teach and I honestly felt I was doing my students a disservice by not being able to illustrate asanas to their full extent. So I’ve been working very hard; I’ve been running to increase stamina, extra core work to better my arm balances, lots of shoulder work etc… and you know what? I’m in pain. I’ve been over kneading my muscles and they are turning into hard achy loaves of bread. And what’s worse I’ve not being practicing what I teach; patience, acceptance, compassion. Boy did I fall of the philosophical wagon! In the amount of time it took to knead a dough ball (8 minutes roughly) I had relearned what took me years to grasp fully. Who knew baking could provide not only for our physical hungry but for our spiritual hunger as well. Actually the lesson came to me about 3 minutes into the kneading so I spent the other 5 minutes thinking about how to change my practice and to better respect my body AND my body’s limit. I would like to go into further detail about that but my timer is about to go off.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
An Hour a Day
How hard is it to find an hour a day? Pretty hard. At this point in my life I’m only partially employed; teaching yoga and freelancing on the side. I don’t have the typical 40 hour work week that many I know do, nor do I have other obligations such as a spouse or children that I make time for. All in all I have a pretty easy schedule. My day starts like this: wake up, walk the dog, simple meditation, coffee and while I have my dark roasted decaf I look at the day ahead and that’s where I get into trouble. I can over program a schedule by the time I’m down to the last drop. Being a new home owner I have plenty of projects around the house and yard and then there’s the new studio which needs lots of TLC. There are many things to get distracted by and if I don’t plan out my day then I will get distracted or worse forget I had things I wanted to accomplish and do virtually nothing. And even though I am embarrassed to admit it yoga is one of the things that gets forgotten. If I don’t put yoga somewhere on my to do list I will most likely not do it. I am a bad yogi. Or am I?
I would love to say I’m one of those amazing and grounded people who get up every day at 4 and do yoga and meditate for 3 hours, but when it comes right down to it I simply not. I live in the constructs of a modern world so getting up at 4 doesn’t fit into that lifestyle. But what I can do is live within these constructs without losing the integrity of my practice. When I sit down to look at my day not matter how quickly it fills I know to “schedule” and hour for my yoga practice. I may not even get that whole hour I may settle for 20 minutes between jobs or appointments but knowing that I have set aside that time, made room for it in my life, assures me it will happen. Every self help book and guru will tell you take time for you, take time for you; even if it’s just five minutes to have a cup of tea in silence or a walk around the block without your iPod. But I think that for me it goes deeper than that. I don’t do yoga for me; I do yoga for everyone else in my life. Yogic philosophy teaches us to have compassion and respect for everyone and really the heart of it is recognizing the divinity within every person as well as in ourselves. So for me putting yoga on my to do list has less to do with taking time for me or keeping limber but it’s an act of respect. I respect all of the things yoga has to teach me by carving out even 20 minutes to let those lessons have a chance to sink in. If you’ve ever taken a yoga class hopefully you’ve been lucky enough to come up from Savasana feeling so at peace with yourself and the world that you can’t even imagine that horrible mood you were in just yesterday. For me it’s like waking up being madly in love with everything. And no, we don’t get that feeling every yoga class but how amazing would it be to start having more often. What kinds of beautiful things could manifest if we had a little more peace and joy in our lives? I think that’s something worth putting on our to do lists.
I would love to say I’m one of those amazing and grounded people who get up every day at 4 and do yoga and meditate for 3 hours, but when it comes right down to it I simply not. I live in the constructs of a modern world so getting up at 4 doesn’t fit into that lifestyle. But what I can do is live within these constructs without losing the integrity of my practice. When I sit down to look at my day not matter how quickly it fills I know to “schedule” and hour for my yoga practice. I may not even get that whole hour I may settle for 20 minutes between jobs or appointments but knowing that I have set aside that time, made room for it in my life, assures me it will happen. Every self help book and guru will tell you take time for you, take time for you; even if it’s just five minutes to have a cup of tea in silence or a walk around the block without your iPod. But I think that for me it goes deeper than that. I don’t do yoga for me; I do yoga for everyone else in my life. Yogic philosophy teaches us to have compassion and respect for everyone and really the heart of it is recognizing the divinity within every person as well as in ourselves. So for me putting yoga on my to do list has less to do with taking time for me or keeping limber but it’s an act of respect. I respect all of the things yoga has to teach me by carving out even 20 minutes to let those lessons have a chance to sink in. If you’ve ever taken a yoga class hopefully you’ve been lucky enough to come up from Savasana feeling so at peace with yourself and the world that you can’t even imagine that horrible mood you were in just yesterday. For me it’s like waking up being madly in love with everything. And no, we don’t get that feeling every yoga class but how amazing would it be to start having more often. What kinds of beautiful things could manifest if we had a little more peace and joy in our lives? I think that’s something worth putting on our to do lists.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
yoga saves the day
How does yoga help us through traumatic events? Here’s my story:
For those of you who are not dog owners, imagine seeing your child run into the street while there’s a truck barreling down the road. That’s what it felt like to me 7 years ago when a stranger walked up and scared my dog so terribly that she pulled the leg off the bench her leash was tethered too and took off down the street. I was frantic, I bolted after her but before I had reached the end of the block she was out of site. We lived just a few blocks down the street so I knew that’s where she was heading but I couldn’t get there, I was crippled by shock, I wanted to melt into the side walk and weep. Halfway up the next block I did sort of, I was confused and hopeless. I knew she would have made it home already but what would she do when no one was there? I stopped running started hyper ventilating a stranger snapped me out of it when she came from the direction my dog ran off in and asked “was that your dog?” I didn’t answer I started running again but awkwardly through my heaving sobs. When I made it to the house I saw her leash wrapped around the gate post, she must have gotten caught and then broke free and, I can only imagine, furthering her panicked state. When I wasn’t there to open the door she must have taken off again. She was gone for 3 days, the worst 3 days I’ve ever had. Just before dawn on day 4 I woke to scratching at the back door, she had come home. Happy ending. So where’s the yoga?
A week ago I was out with my dog for our morning walk, we we’re coming through the park where there is nice bit of lawn and trees in the back behind some picnic tables. I often let her off her leash so she can sniff around; there is rarely anyone at the park that early. But that day there was. I didn’t see the two other dogs running towards mine until it was too late. I saw her tuck her tale under and quicken her step, I called to her but as the dogs got closer she bolted down the alley. I knew the other two dogs wanted nothing more than to play but to a dog that has been lost once and attacked by strange dogs more than once her fear took over and she bolted. This is our morning ritual so she knew how to get home and being only a few blocks away I had no doubt that’s where she was headed so I took off too. And here is where yoga made all the difference. Unlike seven years ago I wasn’t crippled by shock or grief, not in the least. In fact, being so trusting of my body and its capabilities I simply let my instincts take over. My spine straightened, my legs and arms pumped in perfect unison my breath was deep and quick but most what struck me the most was the calmness I had. Everything just dropped out of my mind somewhere deep within me I knew that if I could keep her in my site everything would be ok. In meditation they talk about having a single pointed focus, to train the mind to ignore distraction and rein in on one thought, usually the breath. That is one of the main reasons in yoga class we constantly return to the breath. Yoga can be seen as a moving meditation as well as a preparation for deep completive meditation. It prepares the body for hours of sitting in one position and all thoughts other than the breath have been dismissed. Now I am not a great yogi and my meditation practice leaves much to be desired but in those few moments of what was once a panic I saw how far I had come with my practice. And what a gift it brought me, I caught up to my frightened pooch and sat with her in the road until she was calm enough to walk home. Once we got there we sat in the middle of the house and I stroked her until she let go of her own panic and went calmly and exhaustedly to her favorite spot under the table and went to sleep. I sat there and watched her and marveled at the situation. Yoga gave me two amazing gifts that morning; one: the knowledge that no matter how stagnant I feel in my practice I am growing and two: my furry four legged child is still safely in my life.
For those of you who are not dog owners, imagine seeing your child run into the street while there’s a truck barreling down the road. That’s what it felt like to me 7 years ago when a stranger walked up and scared my dog so terribly that she pulled the leg off the bench her leash was tethered too and took off down the street. I was frantic, I bolted after her but before I had reached the end of the block she was out of site. We lived just a few blocks down the street so I knew that’s where she was heading but I couldn’t get there, I was crippled by shock, I wanted to melt into the side walk and weep. Halfway up the next block I did sort of, I was confused and hopeless. I knew she would have made it home already but what would she do when no one was there? I stopped running started hyper ventilating a stranger snapped me out of it when she came from the direction my dog ran off in and asked “was that your dog?” I didn’t answer I started running again but awkwardly through my heaving sobs. When I made it to the house I saw her leash wrapped around the gate post, she must have gotten caught and then broke free and, I can only imagine, furthering her panicked state. When I wasn’t there to open the door she must have taken off again. She was gone for 3 days, the worst 3 days I’ve ever had. Just before dawn on day 4 I woke to scratching at the back door, she had come home. Happy ending. So where’s the yoga?
A week ago I was out with my dog for our morning walk, we we’re coming through the park where there is nice bit of lawn and trees in the back behind some picnic tables. I often let her off her leash so she can sniff around; there is rarely anyone at the park that early. But that day there was. I didn’t see the two other dogs running towards mine until it was too late. I saw her tuck her tale under and quicken her step, I called to her but as the dogs got closer she bolted down the alley. I knew the other two dogs wanted nothing more than to play but to a dog that has been lost once and attacked by strange dogs more than once her fear took over and she bolted. This is our morning ritual so she knew how to get home and being only a few blocks away I had no doubt that’s where she was headed so I took off too. And here is where yoga made all the difference. Unlike seven years ago I wasn’t crippled by shock or grief, not in the least. In fact, being so trusting of my body and its capabilities I simply let my instincts take over. My spine straightened, my legs and arms pumped in perfect unison my breath was deep and quick but most what struck me the most was the calmness I had. Everything just dropped out of my mind somewhere deep within me I knew that if I could keep her in my site everything would be ok. In meditation they talk about having a single pointed focus, to train the mind to ignore distraction and rein in on one thought, usually the breath. That is one of the main reasons in yoga class we constantly return to the breath. Yoga can be seen as a moving meditation as well as a preparation for deep completive meditation. It prepares the body for hours of sitting in one position and all thoughts other than the breath have been dismissed. Now I am not a great yogi and my meditation practice leaves much to be desired but in those few moments of what was once a panic I saw how far I had come with my practice. And what a gift it brought me, I caught up to my frightened pooch and sat with her in the road until she was calm enough to walk home. Once we got there we sat in the middle of the house and I stroked her until she let go of her own panic and went calmly and exhaustedly to her favorite spot under the table and went to sleep. I sat there and watched her and marveled at the situation. Yoga gave me two amazing gifts that morning; one: the knowledge that no matter how stagnant I feel in my practice I am growing and two: my furry four legged child is still safely in my life.
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