Trying On Some New Shoes...

Alright, Shanti-towners, bidnezz first.  Yogala, the coolest new studio in Los Angeles (that's right, I said it), is off to an AMAZING start.  If you're in the LA area and you haven't checked it out...dooooo it.  Besides myself, there are a ton of great teachers there, lots of class options, a beautiful light-filled studio, and just such a lovely vibe all around.  That beautiful bhav (mood) is due to the intrinsic loveliness of Yogala's founder, Samantha Jones.  (No, not the Sex and the City character, a different Samantha Jones.)  It's impossible for a place not to end up being a reflection of it's maker, and Yogala is definitely that--just like Sam it is full of sweetness and ease and hip-young-mom awesomeness.  Can you tell I like this place?  I like this place.  Come and visit!!

Okay, onwards.

I'm back in the saddle this week, and plowing my way through more of the Erich Schiffmann book I've been reading/half-reading since Christmas.  I love this book (and many thanks to my soon to be sister-in-law for getting it for me), but it's dense, and I can't seem to do more than a few pages at a time before I have to take a break to madly scribble down the best bits.

So, this week's best bits (which I robbed for a theme for a few of my classes) were about growth, and about how uncomfortable growth can sometimes be.  He used the metaphor of a child growing out of a pair of shoes that have become too small...

"It's not reasonable for them to continue wearing their favorite shoes when they no longer fit.  You get rid of the old ones and buy a new pair. The reason you need new ones is that their feet have grown.  Growth has occurred.   Their feet grew, the shoe became too small, their foot hurt.  Pain is not an inherent part of being a foot.  Nor is it an inherent part of growth."

I can't even tell you the number of times that I have found myself repeating an old way of being or thinking, even though I know that I've grown beyond it's hold, just because it's familiar and because I can't imagine myself really no longer needing that old pair of shoes.   We have to constrict in so many ways in order to stay where we are, in order to stay static.  And it's painful. The world around us is in constant motion.  Everything is changing, all the time.

I woke up this morning, and the sky smelled different, and I knew that it was finally Spring.  Change.  And even though I wake up, and I walk into the same living room in the same apartment every morning, nothing is really the same as it was when I went to sleep.  My cells have changed, the makeup of my body and heart and mind have changed.  The air has changed.  My breath, from moment to moment, is constantly ceaselessly changing.  And yet I have--all of us have--built so many structures and patterns that we use to approximate stability.  We build routines and relationships and patterns of thought about who we are and what we're doing, so that we don't have to feel like we're just living in a cosmic soup.

And also, I think, we're all just terrified that change means pain.  That growth means loss.  I've found for myself, that even the loss of negative patterns, things I'm so grateful to be free of, still feels like loss.  My heart still pangs a little bit with every shedding. Will I be the same once this is gone?

And I watch this in classes--both with myself and with my students--because as you get to know yoga, get to know the poses and your body in them, you start to make decisions about what you can and can't do.  How far you can and can't go.  And oftentimes, even when our body has changed and strengthened and opened enough to take us farther in some pose or another, we still stick with the version of the pose that we know. 

I've had moments in a class where, for whatever reason I decided to, say, roll my top shoulder open a little more, and I realize that I have SO MUCH more space than I used to have to complete that action.  And I don't know when that change took place, but in the moment of exploration I realize how often I am just stepping into the pattern I've already established, and no further.  This is what this pose looks like for me, it's pretty good, I'm happy here.  Done.  Which is fine...for a while. But eventually that pose is going to start to get...uncomfortable.

Which is amazing, because it means that even the places in our lives where we are trying to consciously open...if we're not being sensitive to the continual changes taking place...that thing that felt at first so free, can start to feel constricted.  And not because IT changed, but because YOU changed and you forgot to go with yourself.

So maybe, just maybe, if you're feeling constricted in some way--in your body or your heart or your mind--maybe it's not about something being wrong with you or your life.  Maybe it's just that you've changed, you've grown, and you've got this new version of yourself sort of...waiting.  Just waiting for you to step into yourself.  And maybe that stepping in, that stepping forward, maybe it's not a painful process at all.  Maybe it's the simplest thing in the world, and once you do it, once you slip into that new appropriately-sized pair of shoes, you'll realize that all the discomfort has been left behind.

Maybe...

365 Days of Yoga - Days 21-31

10 Days. An overview...

1/20/09 - Hooray! Hooray! Tears...laughing...calls home...much text-messaging. Hooray! Slight sinking feeling that either I am not doing enough, or I really ought to quit what I AM doing and go save the world in some small (or preferably LARGE way). Early AM yoga class.

1/21/09 - This is the first day of the rest of my life. I am accessing my Inner Obama and I am going to make. Things. Happen. (Translation: finally dropped in to see my commercial agents after putting it off for months). Nighttime yoga, followed by a healthy cleaning of the studio bathrooms.

1/22/09 - Barely slept. Cancelled an appointment I should have kept. Did about 5 minutes of yoga and spent the rest of my time trying to overcome the fact that I have NOTHING to wear. Certainly not to LA. Where I would be departing that evening. For which trip I had the worst 2 hour trip to the airport of my life. I hate the stress of being late...even if you're not actually late but think you're going to be. Especially for a plane. Which I ended up on with no food, no water, no headphones, and a seat that wouldn't recline.

1/23/09-1/26/09 - I LOVE LOS ANGELES. (Except for the part where my beloved had the stomach flu and we had to stay in a hotel for a day so he could sleep and not contaminate anyone. Poor baby. But I didn't catch it! So I was still having a grand old time...). Did yoga in our tiny hotel rooms and on the floors of friends places...10 minutes at a time. Every day, folks. Every day.

1/27/09 - Back to reality. Which includes the revisions of my play that need to be done for tomorrows rehearsal and which, I have not finished. I spend 5 hours straight this morning pounding away at the script, sneak in a half-hour home practice, and then off to work. Whereat...I notice that my tummy feels a little...bit...funny.

Uh-oh.

1/27-1/28/09 - Hard Core Puking.*

1/29/09 - Recovering from above.*

*Addendum to 365 Day Plan: On days where one's insides are struggling to come outside, yoga practice for these days is excused.

1/30/09 - Totally frazzled crazed finishing of rewrites...a rehearsal wherein I don't know if the play has gotten better or worse, and my first day back among the living. So glad to be eating again.

1/31/09 - My first class back at the Lotus. Hallelujah! Did I mention that I started my period the DAY after I got over the flu? Oh yeeah, that's sweet. It seems that since I didn't get a chance to experience a real bout of PMS (which, seriously folks, I get like nobody's business) I have decided to cram all of my grumpiness into the past two days so a hard-core 2 hour yoga class was a sweet sweet relief. I felt like I was flying through the whole thing...only problem was that my mind kept wandering into the same fantasy of me auditioning for a certain reality television show that I will not mention but to which I am heartily addicted, however, am a bit too short and a lot too...healthy...to ever be competitive on. You know what show I'm talking about? It's fiiiiiiierce. Let's just say that in the fantasies, while the judges don't really know what to do with me, they do LOVE me, and I take the fashion world by storm! Namaste.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 18

Late night childs pose, some spine rolling, a little alternate nostril breathing, and we'll call it a day...

365 Days of Yoga - Day 17

Home practice.

A little hard-core.

A little "taking all my career angst out on my practice" hard-core.

Nuff said.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 16

First class back at the Lotus. Hooray! I have to say, as lovely as the Kripalu experience was, I have missed me some flow! It has become very clear to me now that I have Vinyasa in my blood and bones, and that though I'd like to learn some other styles so that I can get some more in-depth alignment instruction, the flow, for me, is the way to go.

(I'm a poet, and I don't even know it.) Or, wait...I guess I do...

However, there were some things which I took away from my few days of practice at Kripalu that I am going to continue to integrate into my practice in New York: 1. pranayama. Way more of it. Especially Breath of Fire and Alternate Nostril Breathing. We do both of these at the Lotus, but I'm now going to try to do at least a little bit, every day. As many times as I hear about how vitally important the breath is--the breath is your life, the breath is your practice, the breath is your presence, etc. etc.--I keep having to discover it for myself, little by little. I think a lot of times when I hear that I think, of course of course...I know, I knooooooow. The breath. The breath the breaththebreaththebreaththebreath. Get it. Got it. Wooopdee frickin' doo. But then...then I do something as simple as starting my day with some truly deep breathing and I feel like I've discovered fire. Hey! Hey you people, get a load of this: if you BREATHE (a lot and often) you feel GOOD. Amazing, actually. You feel connected to your body. Your mind clears. You feel alive. You feel present. You feel calm.

I have just figured this out. And it has only taken me 6,000,000 yoga classes to start to learn it. And it only takes me about two stressful hours in a day to forget it all over again.

So, the pranayama. That's one. The other is...well, there were just some images that were given during classes that really resonated with me, which I will continue to try to incorporate, in particular this one regarding savasana:

Now, for those of you who don't know, Savasana is the pose at the end of every yoga class. Corpse pose. And you...well, you just kind of...lay on the ground with your eyes closed. (Actors do this pose all the time in acting classes. A castmate from my last show said once while we were warming up, "there are people who never lie down on the ground! I feel like all I'm ever doing is rolling around on the ground!") This pose might sound really easy, and the form of it is, but the actual execution is extremely difficult. Because, if you're like me, as soon as you lay down with your eyes closed, your mind thinks it's been invited to a thinking party, of which you are the willing host. So, I'm always interested in canny advice about how to release deeper into savasana, and the following is my best reiteration of what one of the Kripalu teachers said.

The best image for me, he said, is this: Imagine you have a little one in your arms--maybe 3 or 4 years old. You're reading to her in your lap, and at a certain point, she falls asleep. And you know the EXACT moment when she has fallen asleep because you feel her body weight release into you. You feel her let go, into sleep. That is the goal of this pose, he said, to release into the ground in that same way. To let go, in that same way.

Now, this may not sound like much, but I nearly started bawling when he said it. (Maybe it had something to do with it being 6:30 in the morning, but I don't think so.) And the reason is--I had never heard the idea of "letting go" explained so potently, and in that moment I could picture it all--how much we are all walking around holding on; to our consciousness, to ourselves, to our lives, to our activities--and how when we do things like fall asleep it is as if our consciousness is a balloon we've been holding on to all day and in that moment of sleep we just let it slip, gently, from our fingers. And I thought about the ground I was laying on as my mother and I as the child in that story, and I thought of the kind of trust it would require to release into her in that way, and how contained in that is a sense of security in the earth as something that holds you up, that sustains you, that comforts you in sleep. And in my bones and my muscles and my blood I could feel this longing to let go in that way. I could feel that balloon straining at my fingers, let go let go let go...

Which I did.

Just a tiny tiny bit. Just a tiny tiny bit more than I usually do, but still, it was enough. I felt a little softer, a little more open, and I could feel, really feel the ground beneath me. And I could feel the strength of it and the enormous size of it. And I understood for a second how much I usually ignore its presence there, beneath my feet, beneath my body. So. Yeah. I will be keeping that image...

365 Days of Yoga - Day 15

My first day back at home and, that's right people, I woke up at 6AM to do yoga and eat a real breakfast, as per the instructions of my Ayurvedic advisor. Yes sirree, I am going to balance my Vata-ness and get this routine going!

I'll tell you what, the actual GETTING UP out of the warm bed is hard, but then after that...it's not so bad at all. Waking up early and not having to be somewhere right away is so much better than waking up early and running out the door. 6AM then becomes this haven, instead of a sentence of sleeplessness.

So, I did it. Got up. Rolled out my mat. Pulled up a cushion to sit on. And I took a bunch of deep breaths. And got into some poses. And breathed some more. And watched the daylight come out over the Brooklyn Bridge. And it was good.

Welcome Home.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 14

Last day at Kripalu. Sigh. Stayed up a little late (10:30pm!) the night before, chatting with a few of the ladies from the photoshoot about, oh you know, the things you talk about on retreat--love, marriage, babies (two of them were in the early part of their first pregnancies), yoga, pooping. Yeah, pooping. We talked a lot about pooping over the last few daya. AND, Taryn (one of my new friends--another model from the shoot) showed me this amazing thing where you roll up a blanket like a melon and roll around on it to loosen up your...you know. To, um...speed up...evacuation. Get me? It's a pretty good trick.

Anyhoooo...enough about that. Morning yoga again was lovely. We were in the "Forest Room" which, true to its name, had an amazing view of the snow-covered woods behind Kripalu, and once again, I felt like I was breathing the morning into existence. There is something so incredible about sitting down in a room when it is dark outside, and to fold down into some pose and come back to sitting and have it be light outside. It's kind of like magic.

And then Taryn and I rolled around on some balls shaped like melons.

I was leaving pretty early--my bus was at 10:40am, so after my (DELICIOUS!) breakfast, I only had a couple hours to take advantage of the rest of the facilities before leaving. First order of business: go outside. I had not been out of doors since my arrival and I knew that I would feel that I had wasted some opportunity if I didn't at least TRY to wander around the grounds. I had noticed the day before that there was actually a cement path that circled the building that I had seen a few other guests working on and I figured that my tennis shoes would be capable on the pavement, in a way that they would not be in the foot of snow all over the rest of the grounds. So, I bundled up and headed out, thrilled to get a taste of the great outdoors for the first time in days. I did not, however, realize that it was 9 DEGREES OUTSIDE! 9 degrees!! Seriously, people. And that was the actual temperature. I found out later that that 9 degrees FELT like zero. Zeeeeero.

I made it, no joke, halfway around the building. And then promptly scurried back inside, for fear my face was about to fall off.

So much for that. Okay. Next item on the agenda: Sauna. Oh yes. I could not leave that place only having gone in the sauna one time. That would have been a travesty. So I hurried myself downstairs, into the bowels of the building, and spent my remaining 40 minutes going from sauna to cold shower to hot giant spaceship-y whirlpool, back to sauna again, and so on.

Sigh.

It was a beautiful morning, and I was sad to go, but also looking forward to getting back to the dirty crazy hecticness of New York and my love, renewed and ready for action. Thank you, Kripalu.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 13

I woke up at 6:30am and in the dark scooched on my yoga pants and sports bra, grabbed my tennis shoes and my key card and snuck out as quietly as possible, so as not to wake my still sleeping roommate. The hallway was dim and the whole place was filled with that pre-dawn feeling. You know what I'm talking about? It's supposed to be a magical hour...that time before the sun rises. The ayurvedically-inclined will tell you that these hours are the most potent for meditation. I always think about Rumi and about this poem, when I am up before the sunrise:

The breeze at dawn
has secrets to tell you.

Don't go back to sleep.

You must ask
for what you really want.

Don't go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth
across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don't go back to sleep.

Ugh! I love that! So...that is what I think of in these hours. Because it does feel that way...as if some passageway might just be hanging open somewhere. Maybe it's just the impending light. Or how everyone is hushed and puffy from sleep. Whatever it is...I love it.

For the morning I took the "moderate" level class, which was chock-full of core work and pranayama, and man...if I thought pranayama was great in the afternoon, it is even better in the morning. My god...the amount of space in my body I am NOT using upon waking is pretty shocking. Why aren't we taught these things? To get up and right away get into our body--to breathe and to stretch and to check in with all those things--our openness, our tightness, our shallowness of breath. Why is that we are taught as americans that you wait until the very last second to wake up, pound a cup of coffee, shower with your eyes half closed and then dash off into the day? That can not be good for us. Just this simple simple thing of waking early, breathing, stretching, breathing some more--I could feel the difference it was having on my mind and my body. No wonder everyone claims not to be a morning person--the typical american morning sucks.

It's good. Is what I'm saying. For me--the waking early and rolling into yoga class--is really good.

After class was breakfast (with a tofu scramble to write home about), then I took an Ayurveda workshop, which was great--I've been wanting to learn more about Ayurveda and this was just a solid 2 hour overview of the major concepts. (I was actually, ahem, so taken by the workshop and by the woman who led it that I scheduled a consultation with her for later that afternoon. Even though I promised myself I wouldn't spend any money! I wanted to know my doshas, damnit!). And after the Ayurveda workshop was a "positional therapy" workshop (too complicated to explain here), then lunch (yum!!), then my ayurvedic consultation, and then...(drumroll please) the photoshoot!

So, overall, the photoshoot was totally great. Beautiful studio, great photographer, great snack table...great great great. All the Kripalu people were smart and supportive and amazing and it was a blast to get my picture taken. At one point, while looking at the pictures with them I started laughing and said out loud...

"Man, this is so great! My two favorite things: yoga, and people paying attention to me!"

What was interesting, though, was how much stuff came up for me in the shoot that was so much like what comes up for me as an actor: I felt intimidated by the models who were more advanced yogis, and even though I was getting all kinds of praise, all I focused on was the negative---they cut that one pose, I'm not doing as much as the other girls, etc. etc..

It didn't help much that the model before me was this GAWgeous 18 year old ballerina who apparently has no bones in her body, as she could grab her perfect legs and put them just about anywhere with little sign of exertion. I completely abandoned my warm-up as I watched her nearly bend over backwards in a side split and pull her leg up right behind her head as if she were picking up a glass of water. "That's okay" I had to remind myself, "I am not...that. And that's okay."

When my turn came I was feeling a little bit like a stuffed sausage in my tight white outfit and nervous about whether I would be able to do what was asked. Of course...the very first pose--no salami (I'll stop with the sausage talk now). No way no how, my body's not even built that way. Which would have been fine and understandable except...maaaaaybe I sort of implied that I COULD do that pose...um. But I THOUGHT I could! I really did! When they sent the little form with the pictures of the poses and asked us to rate our comfort level I looked at that one and thought I could TOTALLY do that! Except. Apparently I can't. So. Okay. Cool.

So, then we got into some poses I could do...and things were going swimmingly, and then into a pose that I LOVE and that I consider myself really quite good at, and we were working it and working and the amazing gorgeous brilliant shoot director was giving me adjustments and I really felt like I was getting it, you know? But...it was late in the day and they were short on time and I wasn't (gulp) "up high enough or rotated enough" (argh!) so they cut it and moved me on to some sitting poses. At which point they got all excited because they'd not yet had any straight on poses and they could not have been happier with what I was doing, but me? All I could think was...I couldn't do it. I couldn't do what they wanted. I couldn't do it.

Actors out there...any of that sound familiar?

It's an amazing thing, that all of my "stuff" is apparently not dependent on circumstance, but is carried with me from environment to environment. And I know it's a blessing from me to see and experience, because the more that happens, the clearer it is that all of that stuff--all the doubt and recrimination--that it's all just a mind trip, and that there is a possible definition of worth and success that is outside all this stuff. It's so easy to feel like the crazy profession that I'm in (acting) is the only one so full of competition and drive and pivoting for position, but in fact, that stuff is all internal. If you feel overlooked in your work, you are going to feel overlooked, no matter what kind of work you are doing. You can change the work and change the work and maybe find relief for a while, but ultimately the thing you are struggling with will out.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 12

Arrived at Kripalu in Stockbridge, Massachusetts around 1pm. Frazzled from my 4-hour busride, which was beautiful, but just a couple hours too long. I was picked up by a Kripalu staffer at the busstop and delivered to the front door of the place with instructions to "check-in". Which I did, with a fairly nice, but somewhat distant, front desk person (I think I was expecting someone more, I don't know...smiley) and given a key card for my room. I stood there blankly, waiting for more, and he just kind of looked at me.

"Um...where do I..."

He came to a bit more attentiveness, "Have you been here before?". "No" I said. No, mister not-nearly-as-friendly-as-I-want-you-to-be, I have not been here before. He added a couple maps of the building to my materials, told me I had missed lunch and if I wanted it I would have to pay $15 anyhow but that there was a cafe with "healthy snacks" still open. Sigh. I decided to just go to my room, put down my stuff, and make a game plan from there.

My room was empty, to my great relief, and a "standard" room, which meant two beds instead of a dormitory. So far I was the only one there, and I hoped silently that I would not actually end up with a roommate, though I knew this was probably too good to be true. The room was nice, though small, and the one window looked out on...well...not much. The grounds of Kripalu were gorgeous, absolutely blanketed in snow, and the temperature was dropping steadily and I, not knowing much about anything, had only brought one pair of shoes, not suited for winter weather, so it became clear very quickly that I would be confined to the indoors. And so far, I was not sure what that really meant...

It was getting close to 2pm by the time I'd put down my things, called Paul for some moral support, and checked out the maps and schedules. The first yoga class I could take was at 4:15pm and I was starving, so I decided that first course of action would be to find the cafe and get myself a "healthy snack". This turned out to be just one floor away and indeed, it was full of yummy organic stuff. I settled on a green tea, a bag of trail mix, and a Luna Bar (a staple in my diet), and I sat down at a sunny table with a view of the snow to read all about Kripalu in the materials I'd been handed upon arrival.

I was still a little amped up from my ride and a little too hot in the sun and feeling timid and aggravated and growing more so by the minute as I felt myself surrounded by people who were just way too goddamn RELAXED! Stupid smiling people admiring the stupid view. I could not WAIT for yoga class.

I lasted about, oh, 45 minutes in the cafe before returning to my room, where (still thankfully its only resident) I called a dear friend and crabbed to her about everything. My spiritual life, my career, my feeling of awkwardness in this place that was supposed to be a respite! She listened to me and advised me in her wise wise way and after an hour on the phone I was feeling soothed and ready for my 4:15 class.

I had opted for the "vigorous" class, as I knew I needed something a little forceful in order to kick out the last of my funk, and I chose wisely, as I was definitely fully kicked by the end of it. Kripalu classes are set up as follows:

The teacher teaches, as far as I experienced, with a head-mic. Which is nice because you don't ever have to struggle to hear them, and also good for them, as there is definitely a "soothing" quality to the instruction and adjustments, and this allows them to talk softly no matter how large the class. Still, head mics take some getting used to.

Also, the teacher's mat is set up perpendicular to the mats of the students and he or she participates in the asana while leading it. This, I have to admit, I was not super fond of. I like to feel that the teacher is engaged with us, the students, and what we are doing, and in this set up there is just no way for their attention not to be divided. At least 1/2 of the time they are looking away, necessarily, as they are performing the asana themselves, and it makes me, as student, feel that I am then actually given the responsibility of watching them, while they teach, if I want to make sure I am doing the asana correctly. Which takes me just a bit out of my own practice and my own body. I never have this feeling when the teacher is walking around and engaged only with the act of teaching--their presence in that case is a comfort and I trust that if I am out of sync they will catch it.

I'd be really interested to hear from any Kripalu teachers/students about this practice--is there a reason behind it? Is there a benefit that I'm totally missing here?

Anyhow. After adjusting to these two things, I found the class really great. Difficult and specific and uplifting...all the things a girl could want from a class. Including (and I've come to realize this is a really serious part of the whole Kripalu teaching/learning model) a lot of pranayama. Which I love. And only usually do on a pretty sporadic basis. It was kick-ass. And for those of you who don't know, pranayama is a practice with the breath, basically. (Please jump in, those of you more knowledgeable!) And there are some amazing practices that really get that prana flowing and feel, to me, like they wake up every cell in my body. Every time I do really vigorous pranayam, I think to myself WHY don't I do this ALL THE TIME. It's like...it changes your brain. Instantly.

So...class was great, and I was so ready for dinner by the time it ended.

And dinner...Blew. My. Mind.

The food there?! Oh my freakin' god. Oh. My. God. Good. Really, really, really exceptionally good. No dessert, which was a little disappointing. But actually, the food was so excellent, I didn't even NEED dessert. If you can believe that. (Though I did slather some jam and butter on a piece of homemade sunflower bread and pretended it was cake...).

The evening activity, post-dinner, that first night was, ahem, a drum circle. Which...I hate to say it, is not really for me. Maybe...maybe in a very specific certain situation I could see myself doing that, but.... And, okay, okay...I did OWN a djembe in college. But I think everyone owned a djembe in college. At least in the Pacific Northwest. So...though I did however outside the door to the room for a few minutes, thinking maybe since I'd not spoken to another soul all day (except on the phone) it might be good for me, but no. I couldn't do it. I decided instead to head to the sauna and whirlpool, and oh ladies and gentlemen, I made the RIGHT choice.

Not only was it just dreamy (the whirlpool looks like a spaceship when you get in...all white light and fog)...I met two really sweet and interesting chicks from Boston, Maya and Kelly, who I hung out with the rest of the evening until finally retiring to my room (where I did, indeed, now have a roommate. A very sweet one, thankfully). At the ripe old hour of 10pm.

All in all, a beautiful first day.

Tomorrow: the photoshoot...

365 Days of Yoga - Day 11

Early afternoon class today. Not much to say about it except that it was...excellent. That thing happened where at the end of class I actually felt a whole bunch of muscles in my body relax, which I didn't even know I had, let alone that I was tensing them.

Something deep and good is happening with my practice...I don't know how to express it other than that there is an internal shift taking place and these handful of days without a break from practice (usually I take 2 days off a week, sometimes 3 if I'm busy) have been a larger...window into that experience. There is something about doing something, anything, everyday. It's like when you first get into a serious relationship with someone and you begin to see your own repeated patterns of behavior in a totally new way, because you are doing these things in the presence of someone else. I guess in that case, the other person becomes your witness. And if you are paying attention, sometimes just the addition of that witness can help you to change bad habits. In this case...I don't know...my mat becomes my witness. My teachers are my witness. The rooms where I practice become the witness. My practice becomes the witness. And if I let my practice in everyday, I am, in the same way I am in relationship to other people, confronted with myself and my patterns in a different way.

It's a good thing, I guess is what I'm saying.

Tomorrow I get on a bus early in the morning and drive four hours to Stockbridge, Massachusetts (pray for good weather!), where I will spend 3 glorious days at Kripalu. I've never been there before, and I am very much looking forward to it. I'm actually going because I got a little yoga modeling gig (doing a photo shoot for their publicity materials, etc.) and my payment is this (much much appreciated) little mini retreat. I'm excited to do it, and am hoping maybe I'll end up with some cool professional yoga pics as a result!

Wish me luck!

365 Days of Yoga, Day 10

There was a pretty sweet sequence in the latest issue of Yoga Journal that I'd been wanting to try, so today I got down on the floor and did it, yo.

It was designed by Shiva Rea, who I have a growing affection for after taking an intensive workshop with her in October. I like all the heart-opening/inspirational work that she does, and this particular sequence was all about using affirmations with the poses. Nerdy, I know. But what better way to spend an hour than coming up into Warrior I while proclaiming (silently) "I am receiving divine intelligence!" I mean come on? What crappy saturday tv show will give you that?

Not that I watch crappy tv. On Saturdays. Usually.

Um...

So, I affirmed my way into a very lovely little mood. I mean...really nice. My nearest and dearest was taking a nap in the other room, the east river was blanketed with fog and falling snow and the lights on the Brooklyn Bridge looked like fuzzy little diamonds hanging from the trusses. It was beautiful. And as I hung wet clothes on our drying racks, in our very quiet apartment, I asked myself what it would be like to stay in the silence just a little bit longer. I asked myself what it would feel like to stay in the silence...for a very long time. I asked myself what it would mean, who I would be, without the voice in my head--the one that dictates to me all day long, day in and day out, who I am and what I want and where I'm going--who would I be? How would I be? And the answer was: I don't know. And the answer maybe was: I would like to find out. And the answer also was: I'm scared.

I am receiving divine intelligence...

365 Days of Yoga, Day 9

It was 11pm before I realized I hadn't done any yoga.

Me: I haven't done any yoga today!

Paul: Oh no. You have to do it, right?

Me: I have to!

I'm going to be totally honest here and say...um...I'd had...well, I'd had a couple glasses of wine. Earlier in the evening. Several hours earlier. And also...um...I'd also had a little nip of brandy. Just prior to this conversation, so. I really...it wasn't that I was drunk or anything, I wasn't. Not even buzzed. I was just...well, I felt a little guilty, rolling out my mat at 11pm, knowing I had (gasp!) alcohol in my system. But a commitment is a commitment, damnit, and I was not going to let a little teensy bit of indiscretion get in my way. I'm not going to say I didn't feel guilty, though...I did.

Bad girl!

I sunk into childs pose. Oh my gosh, what am I doing. I'm sure I'm not supposed to be doing this. Why didn't I practice earlier? What kind of yogi am I...I shouldn't even be drinking. At all. Ever. Sure I've cut down. A lot. I mean...I used to drink a glass of wine every night and now...well, maybe it's once or twice a week. Sometimes less! Oh god, Lia, you can't just lie here. Get up. I got into Downdog. What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I did a slow, simple, vinyasa. Okay, I guess I'm doing this. Alright. So...then...I guess I just need to do this. Back into Downdog. Who says I can't still have a good practice? Who says I have to make myself feel bad about this? Another vinyasa. Hey, this is okay. This is my practice today. And it's okay. Back into Downdog. I'm doing it. I'm doing it, and this is today. And okay, maybe I don't feel so great about the wine and the brandy, but still, here I am. And this is what I'm dealing with today on the mat--vices. Today I bring my vices to the mat. Great big blissful forward bends. More and more and more. And then some alternate nostril breathing which, for the first time ever, made me feel as I think it is supposed to make me feel. Calm. Centered. Balanced.

Who says alcohol can't do you some good every once in awhile? Even if the good is just a clear physical reminder of why a clear body is better...

365 Days of Yoga - Day 8

Early morning class with Ashleigh.

Ashleigh is dreamy. She is one of those people who just beams. You know the kind of person I'm talking about? I can't help but grin at her, all the time. And when she mentioned off-handedly this morning that she is originally from Boulder, Colorado...it all started to make sense. There must be something in the water out there in Boulder...

Before class Ashleigh let slip that she was going to be trying something "new" today, and was glad that I was going to be in class. Which made me feel, well...super cool. I'm going to love this new thing, I thought, I don't care what it is! I am going to make. Ashleigh. Proud.

The "new thing" ended up being this great Atlas-holding-the-world-on-his-shoulders Kundalini inspired pose, which we sort of dipped into and out of (and which I did, in fact, love--I highly recommend just standing with your feet wide, throwing your arms open, leaning your head back, and tell me if you don't immediately feel like a superstar) and which, she told us, she had to hold for 8 minutes straight in the Kundalini class where she learned it. Which would be...rough. And possibly amazing. It definitely made me want to take a Kundalini class. (I used to have this fantasy that if I took a Kundalini class I would just turn into this wild haired woman who walks with my pelvis out and rides around on rollerskates, listening to Ani Difranco, but now I think maybe it would just kick my ass.)

But in addition to the whole 'holding up the world' thing, what I walked away from class remembering was the repeated reminder from Ashleigh that, "All stress is caused by the resistance to what is". All stress is caused by the resistance to what is. She talked about being next to people on the subway cursing under their breath, people walking down the street, shaking their head, and how it made her think of this little idiom. "I don't know," she said, "they might be happy...but I have a feeling there might be a little resistance there to what is."

Later that day I found myself in Macy's...trying to return some shirts I'd ordered online (that was a mistake...) and as I was descending on an escalator I saw a woman on the floor above me, walking down the aisle between clothing sections, shrieking and smacking herself on the head. Another woman, a shirt in her hand, watched this with her mouth literally agape. As if she had never seen, nor imagined that such a thing was possible--such outward and unabashed misery, and I could not help but think about Ashleigh, and resistance to what is, and what, if anything, that woman in Macy's might have to teach me about that.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 7

Rough day.

Going into downdog made me cry.

I won't go into it...

365 Days of Yoga, Day 6

Major headache...(I never get headaches!)

Laid in reclined goddess pose with an eyemask on my throbbing eyes. And breathed.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 5

Okay, check it.

I was actually AT HOME, 7:30pm, with my beloved already asleep in our bed, curled up with my computer, happily writing--but still I did it. The sky was dark and the outside was cold...I knew it was and STILL, I got up, put on clothes, bundled up and went outside in order to GO TO YOGA. This means, people, getting on a train and going into Manhattan. Yes, it's true.

I am AMAZING.

Well, really, it was my night to clean at the yoga studio and if I hadn't gone, I would have had to get up at 4:45 in the AM to do the morning clean and that just sounded absolutely...intolerable. So, I did have a motivation, but still! Other than that...I have nothing inspirational to say except that...even the unthinkable is thinkable...once you're in the middle of it. (This is what I thought when I realized that I was actually there, walking up 6th Avenue, when just minutes before I had been warmly curled in my favorite green chair at home).

365 Days of Yoga - Day 4

Didn't make it to class.

Grumpy all day.

Went home and rolled out my mat, grumpily.

Layed down in Savasana. This made me feel a little better.

Got into down dog. Better still.

Did a few sun salutes. Much better.

Stood on my head. Perfection.

Why don't I do this EVERY time I'm in a bad mood?

365 Days of Yoga - Day 3

Class again with Stacey today. After last night's beauty class I couldn't resist spending some more quality time with her and her loveliness.

Again the room was packed, but today I ended up in the very very back of the room, making friends with the bag full of shelves and the teacher i-pod station. Happily, I find that I don't get too frustrated any more with the really packed houses. It's easy to feel like everybody is all over your "space", but after awhile I think I've come to realize that the really full classes can be the juiciest, and that ultimately you find your way around everyone else's blankets and limbs.

I've been having this thing going on with my right hamstring (it's interesting to watch injuries move around...once it was my right shoulder, then my left hip, now this hamstring...) and for awhile I was barely able to straighten my leg because of that. I asked a few teachers about it and they said that I'd probably just torn some of the muscles in there and the advice (as with all yoga injuries it seems) was just to back off in the poses where it is painful.

Argh! Says my ego. Back off? Back off--but--that's so--!! Hard. Yes, exactly. It is very very hard for me to ease off and so I am communicating the lesson to myself the best way I possibly can: via torn muscles and painful joints. Chill. Back off. Take it easy. I'm going to admit something a tiny bit embarrassing which is: I think that there are some poses that I can "do"...that I can't really do. I happen to be blessed with a strong body and I think I use that strength to make the shape of the pose even when I can't really live inside of it. If that makes any sense. In my own defense (oh, blast you, anonymous voice of repudiation!!) I am getting a lot better at this, and am trying to notice more and more when and where I am doing it, and trying to...not do it so much. Because of this, I have to say, I am growing quite fond of my little hamstring injury. I am rediscovering all these forward bends that I was paying no attention to whatsoever and for the first time I am gettin a real benefit from them. Instead of just feeling proud of myself for getting my forehead to my shins or whatever I was trying for, I'm only going to the place that feels genuinely comfortable for my throbbing right leg (which means my head is an embarrassing distance from my legs. Seriously. You could drive a truck through there)--and, surprise sur-freaking-prise, that place is actually where my whole body can open up. Now it's not just about my flexible back--I can feel the backs of my legs, my neck, behind my heart--all of it melting and opening up in the forward bends. And, now it feels like I have someplace to GO.

If only I could start to look the "injuries" in the rest of my life this way. Not as things which need to be fixed or as limitations, but as gentle reminders as to where I am not paying attention, where I am pushing too hard or trying to be somewhere I just may not be quite ready to go yet.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 2

Long class tonight with Stacey (whom I LOVE)...she's an actress and singer as well as a yoga teacher and I feel some kind of unspoken bond with her because of it. She is also both fierce and open-hearted--a combination I find incredibly likeable and not an easy balance to strike (in my own life at least...it seems it's usually one or the other).

The room was packed, everyone eager to get their post-new-year sweat on, and I found myself way in the front corner of the class. Not bad--I never mind having a wall to one side of me, and the closer to the windows the better. Though lately I find that I gravitate more toward the middle of the class--I like seeing the synchronicity of movement of the yogis to all sides. But tonight it was just me and wall and window and a woman to my weft. Heh heh.

The class was pretty vigorous...it was an upper level and Stacey is not one to shy away from the hard stuff. We were doing a lot of twists and arm balances and, um, the one where your big toe is in your hand? Pat a goose asana? Just kidding. I'm trying to learn the Sanskrit but it's slow going, and I feel shy about giving it a try and massacring the name. (Sometimes I feel this way when we're chanting--singing out the chants like some pop-star from the back of the class knowing that I have NO IDEA what word I'm chanting--just faking my way through it like I've just graduated from Sanskrit school.) Anyhow. We were doing that, and some standing marichyasana...the one where your arms are bound around a knee that is jammed up into your armpit. (Not "jammed", Lia, that's not very yogic). Ahem. The one where your arms are bound around the knee that is moving toward your armpit--reaching for your armpit--longing for your armpit...

Anyways, apparently some of the people in the class who weren't familiar with the pose were kind of dropping out during the sequence and just kind of standing there...(I didn't see this, as I was up in the front corner, jamming my knee into my armpit...) but at one point Stacey stopped all of us and explained that if there was some frustration going on, or some discouragement, that maybe she could address it...

She explained that the point of yoga is never the pose--or the finished product of the pose. She said that the reason things get continually more difficult is that as soon as we know how to do something--as soon as we have mastered something, some pose or some sequence--then we can do it and still think about all the crazy stuff we always think about. As soon as we've mastered it, we can do it in our sleep. And the whole point, she said, is not to be able to do the poses in our sleep--but to allow the poses to wake us up. So, she said, you do the pose as you can do it--you do it so that it is waking you up--you do it so that it requires your whole effort and focus, so your mind can't go running off in all directions as it normally does. You try not to just get frustrated and give up. Even if all you can do is put your hand on your knee while you stand on the other leg, then that's what you do.

I thought about all the things in life I can do while asleep--that I do, do while asleep--and about how much I'd like to wake up--how much I'd like to find more things that wake me up, and wondered if the point here, in my life, is the same as in my practice--to challenge and deepen my practice, my life, so that it never becomes a sleepwalk, but is a constant shaking of my sleeping shoulders to wake up.

365 Days of Yoga - Day 1

So, my most concrete and achievable resolution for the new year? 365 days of yoga. Yeeeah, boooy. (and grrrrrl.) Which, maybe, by proxy, will encourage more regular type blogging on my part. Ahem. And let me tell you, this is NOT an unreasonable goal, it really isn't. I'm near to an everyday practice already...this is just going to bump it up a notch. And I've given myself permission to practice for 10 minutes in my pajamas on days that are crazy and it will still count. Just so I don't feel like I have to drag myself to Manhattan every dang day if I don't need to...

Yesterday, January 1st, was Day One.

I practiced in my bedroom...though not in my pajamas. It was not a long practice, as I'm recovering from a cold and the holidays, and it was a gentle roll all over the floor kind of thing. I think my eyes may have been closed the entire time and I definitely spent a lot of time standing on my head. My shoulders and neck were aching from stress and the few backbends I did sent that warm gooey tingly sensation down my arms and back. It was sooooo good.

What did I learn? That sometimes my body knows EXACTLY where to open, how to open, and when to open, and I don't actually need to prescribe any of it.

Not bad for day one....