Thought for the Day...

My body is always existing in the present.

Back-to-Back

Classes: 12:30-1:30pm, "Flower Hour", Mary Dana; 2-3:00pm, "Lotus Hour", Vanessa.

My friend was supposed to meet me at the 2pm class today, but I just for some reason couldn't bear the idea of only going to class for an hour, so I did something I've always wanted to do: back-to-back classes.

I had second thoughts about this, about halfway through the first class when, because of (ahem) hormonal issues and various angst, I felt like I was dragging my body through mud in every pose. My lower half felt like it weighed 1,000 pounds and I considered, for a moment, telling my friend that I would be sitting out in the lobby waiting for her after she finished the 2 o'clock class, on her own.

I was given an out, however, when said friend left me a message saying she probably wasn't going to make the 2PM, and I could meet her afterwards instead. I considered crossing my name off the list for the class and skipping it right along with her, but something compelled me forward. I'm pretty sure the "something" was the impressed accolades from some of the LL staff when they saw me putting my name down for the 2nd class. How could disappoint them? (And give up all that nice ego-stroking...)

Turns out, to my pleasant surprise, back-to-back classes ROCK! It was about 10 or 15 minutes into class #2 when I broke through some kind of wall, on the other side of which was Magic Yoga Playland. My lethargy and heaviness and muddy mind vanished, like bugs slamming into a bug-zapper. And, my grade-A super-duper revelation for the day?

I am a body, breathing.

There is no way to truly explain this, except to say, at a certain point, while trying to pay attention to the breath coming in and out of my belly (as I am a bit obsessed with learning how to breath with parts of my body other than the tiny landing strip of my upper-chest) I simultaneously noticed the breath coming in and out of my lungs, and in and out of my diaphragm and in and out of my back, and breath sliding across and through my nostrils and down the back of my throat--I noticed all of it at once, all happening in partnership and at the same time and the thought occurred to me, I am a body, breathing. I am a body, breathing. I am in space, in this room--composed of these arms and legs and this face--and I am moving in this particular way, but the largest truth I can muster about who I am and what my place is in the universe is simply: I am a body, breathing. And everything else, everything else, is imaginary. As much as it is in my mind. Not worthless, but not nearly as solid and true as this shape that I am, breathing in and out.

In short: push through the muddy stuff, because on the other side is clear blue water.

Playtime has changed...but it ain't all bad!

Class: 4:00-5:45pm, "Cosmic Play", Rachel.

I am sad to say, that dearest Edward is no longer teaching Cosmic Play.

Please allow me a moment while I let out a tremulous sigh.

*Siiiiiiigh*

We know how much I love Edward, love love love Edward, yes we do. I only hope his schedule has changed for some kind of fabulous reason, (like movie-making), as he will be sorely and surely missed.

I skipped last week's cosmic play. I was in Puerto Rico, so I have a good excuse, but this week was my first play-time sans Edward, and I was prepared to be disappointed.

But, no need! No need! Rachel is amazing!

Yes, Rachel, Raaaaaachel. We love Rachel, yes we do. We love her, too.

Rachel is a spritely yogi. An angelic yogi. A long-limbed, reed-voiced yogi. Rachel floats up into arm balances so high and graceful it makes me want to weep. She's got one of those practices, those oh sigh will I ever look that pretty while I practice practices, and also, she is HARD-CORE.

I'm talkin', she and Ariel could have a who-could-kill-you-more-swiftly with deadly yoga moves ass-kicking contest, and I think it might be a draw!

Along with being a graceful ass-kicker, Rachel is a from the heart kind of teacher...she is soft-voiced and soft-handed (she also does Shiatsu) and you can just smell grounded inspiration all over her. (Note to self: If I ever market a yoga perfume, I'm calling it, grounded inspiration.)

So, needless to say, I was not not not disappointed.

Rachel spoke today about the Gunas. For your reference, I will include a quick-and-dirty explanation of what the Gunas are (thank you cyberspace) below:

A Guna is a state of mind--an attitude. Attitudes are basically qualities or tones of vibration and are found in everything, especially in the human. There are three Gunas, or attitudes, from which all the more subtle attitudes are derived. The three Gunas bind your spirit to the body, keeps it here. A Guna is an earthly quality. The three Gunas are Sattva, Rajas and Tamas.

As far as I can figure, Tamas is intertia, Rajas is desire (not the pleasant kind), and Sattva is goodness, and, like all things yogic, all of these gunas are at play in different frequencies at all times, and all of them can get a little out of hand if not tended to properly.

Rachel's big theme regarding the Gunas, had to do with the idea (which has been on my mind A LOT) that there is a possibility, when working with emotions and states of being, for one to be fully-present without being either indifferent or attached to what he or she is feeling. This is a big tenet of any spiritual practice (by my calculation), and it is also EXTREEEEMELY DIFFICULT. My god, has anyone ever tried this and lived to tell the tale?! I have tried, many times, and almost always I lose this battle and end up locked into a french kiss with my prevailing emotional state. A dirty, uncomfortable french kiss...

I do believe that it is possible! and vital! and by god, I am determined to get a handle on it.

For those of you who aren't sure exactly what I'm talking about here, imagine this: suffering, say, is a wild whirlpool, and most of us, most often, choose to either:

a. stand to the side and proffer "what whirlpool?" when someone asks what that loud sucking noise is, or

b. get sucked down it. quickly. with bruises.

What is being proposed here, is that there is actually an opportunity, when that whirlpool appears, to STAND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT, without either getting slurped down to the recesses or pretending that you are whirlpool free. Of course, the idea is not just that one can do or should do this with negative emotions, but with ALL emotions, good and bad.

So, okay, the Gunas are in play, all the time, and when one is out of whack it kind of takes over, and our challenge, as yooooogis, is to stand in our Gunastic whirlpool and feel it all, maaaan. (I have to make a full disclosure here and say that I spent most of today (leading up to class) lying on my bed, crying and watching Netflix. Just so no one thinks that I am numbering myself among those who are good at this particular practice). My afternoon, in hindsight, may have been a deadly combination of unfulfilled Rajas and hardcore pre-menstrual Tamas....

So, needless to say, I felt that today's lesson was particularly attuned to my, ahem, needs, so I really went for it in class. 1. I needed the exertion to whick off the toxins that had accumulated from my cry-fest, 2. I read recently that if you can really push yourself to the edge while doing any kind of physical activity, the spiritual rewards are great, and 3. I hadn't taken a class in 3 days and my body was screaming in revolt! And, I am happy to report that after nearly two-hours of upside-downness and twisty-twistyness, and one amazing mini-massage from Rachel during class, I felt a small flicker of possibility...that maybe next time (after having forgiven myself for an afternoon of indulgence) I might be able to stand in the whirlpool and enjoy the sucking sensation a little longer (before I am long-gone down the drain).


-Yogalia

Vacation

It's true, I've been away.

I spent the last six days in beautiful Puerto Rico, with my beautiful love, soaking up too much sun and tromping through the rain forest. There was little time for asana, but still I seemed to be practicing every day...

On Friday we arrived and dealt with several sets of systems: the airport system, the baggage claim system, the shuttle system, the rental car system, the hotel check-in system, the driving directions in a strange place system, the how do you say "where" again in spanish? system...while eating the equivalent of fast food tacos at "Taco Makers" I reminded P. who looked a bit downtrodden at the start of our long first day, that travel days are always the hardest. He perked up a bit at this, and I realized too, that when the day is so involved in setting up the structure for the days to come, it's hard to feel relaxed and open to what's happening. Too much to come, not enough now.

Saturday morning we attempted to kayak in the ocean, having been told by our hosts that it would be no problem (even with the small amount of kayaking experience between us), and as we stood on the shore, after having been thoroughly thrashed by waves and unable to make it out to calmer waters, both us wanting so much to say WE CAN! and to hell with fear, but both of us knowing better, we came face to face with a large question (not the first time it would happen on this trip): when does conquering fear mean plowing ahead, and when does conquering fear mean admitting you need help?

Sunday we walked a forbidden trail in the rainforest. We had to sneak under a gate warning DANGER! and PROHIBITED! (we were told that everyone does it), and walk along an aquaduct, traveling aluminum bridges over dams and rushing reservoirs, eventually scaling a chained off metal ladder and making our way through volcanic rock to find ourselves totally alone at the top of the world. Along the way, in the midst of the solitary rainforest, the only sound the creaking of bamboo and the shrieking of several birds, I thought of how funny it is that I can go so far away, to the middle of a rain forest, and still my whole world comes with me...

Monday we took a long ferry ride to the island of Culebra, where we laid in the sun and snorkeled and even found an entirely deserted beach. I got sunburned all over and felt indecisive and uncomfortable on the hot sand. We bickered over when to go back and where and later I realized that too much ease can sometimes breed aggravation.

Tuesday we left our small room in Punta Santiago and traveled to Old San Juan. We ate expensive tuna sandwiches in an air conditioned restaurant and left the town early, dissatisfied with all the knick-knack shops, and headed to a resort-like hotel in nearby Condado. There we spent too much money but found finally the perfect picture of relaxation. We laid in our giant king bed in our cool cool room and watched waves break, we drank margaritas pool-side, I did my first bit of yoga in days, flying easily into a long steady handstand on the squishy grass by our beach chairs, and we let the week soak in and rinse off.

And yesterday, upon our return, I felt such an instantaneous jolt--New York rains down hard upon the returning traveler. I tried with all my might to hang on to the feeling of being away and apart, but the long rattle of the subway and the mounting to-do list, won out.

This morning I awoke, we both did, reminding ourselves what the week was like, trying to remember what and how the freedom was, so that it might remain, or so that it might become something of a part of our life here. It feels like a struggle already, but somewhere I know that the fight to wake up with a sense of wonder and curiousity about the day, as we did while we were away--with the sense that it is a thing to be joyfully conquered--is a battle worth waging.