Om Gum Ganapatai Namaha!

I've been taking care of some old business lately and frankly have been feeling just south of freaked. Its an emotionally charged transaction; it has been like a hairy version of Falcon Crest. There are a lot of twists and turns as it all unfolds, a lot of players and a lot of ego. Sigh...yeah, including mine. I have to admit I want it all to turn out 'my way'. 

I  don't know what's worse. Knowing better than the 'my way' method, or the wanting, grasping, and gripping of my way in and of itself. I suppose it is mute because the bottom line is that this unrealistic expectation creates an enormous amount of suffering.  I've lost my cool a few times and totally lost sight of the whole notion of 'letting go'. Asking for help from legal and financial advisors has been enormous help, but in matters of the spirit it just doesn't cut the mustard.

One of the tools I use when my head is spinning is to evoke Ganesha. Maybe because he is so fun to look at and the mere image of the deity lightens me up substantially. I've found it quite useful to offer my 'little' issue up to Ganesha to assist in removing the obstacles so that the whole situation will land as it is meant to land, spiritually speaking. Its simple, but a tall order to trust that big. Its an even bigger challenge for me to balance street smarts with spirit wisdom. Its not something I fully picked up on in MBA school.

In private times to quiet my mind, a little mudra and  a lot of repetition of Om Gum Ganapatai Namaha gets me through when I just can't see. Actually more than just 'gets me through', it gives me quite a bit of relief. Namaste to Uschi's Gods and Goddess workshop. She reacquainted me with Ganesha about three weeks ago precisely at the moment when all this 'business deal' nonsense started heating up to a roaring boil. Since that time a Ganesha centered practice really has helped me recover from some very scary and unpleasant thoughts as I've navigated through a very intense deal.

Not too surprising, then, that Mr. Ganesha has come right out of my mouth and heart and into my asana practice. It has been so effective for me in the past few weeks that I decided to share a piece of it in the yoga of recovery class this morning. The class went something like this:

Heart opener on Bolster

3 part breath; finding peace and joy on the inside.

Side opener in sukasana

forward fold between sides

Cat, cow play with breath

Balasana

1/4 dog

plank 

downdog

tadasana

shoulder opener with strap

1/4 sun salutations

1/2 sun salutations

lunge salutations with arms overhead one side one, arms behind side two

sphinx and cobra between sets

tadasana

Ganesha mudra

lunge right side

Warrior 1

wide leg forward fold with Ganesha mudra behind back

Warrior 111 with Ganesha mudra

Standing splits to release

Lunge

3 leg dog

vinyasa

land in balasana

second side

OM

adding on 

hip opener low kneel

pigeon

janushirshasana forward fold

other side

adding on after janushirshasana forward fold

ardha matsendrasana with neck rolls

roll back to release

ardha matsendrasana other side

easy spine twist

Savasana

It has been fun to play with mudras. We've worked in the first several weeks with Lotus mudra and I'm feeling that Ganesha's moved in. Bonus! He's got a great mantra to play with too!

Om Gum Ganapatai Namaha!

Chataranga or Bust

In psychology class the other evening the teacher made a mistake. She wrote on the board that Pavlov's dog was an example of 'operant conditioning' instead of 'classical conditioning'. The mistake was brought to light because it was a question on  our quiz, and most students, including myself,  answered the question wrong. The teacher acknowledged her mistake with incredible grace and dignity. On top of that she gave everybody credit on the quiz for that 'wrong' answer. We all went home happy and just like that, the entire episode was behind me.

I wish I could forgive myself as easily as I forgave my psychology teacher. In Uschi's vinyasa workshop yesterday I realized that I've been doing chataranga pose wrong my whole yoga practice. It triggered a whole litany of mental flogging that lead me to the dark corner of 'who am I to be teaching this yoga stuff anyway?' 

I think there are various levels of mistakes. Like calling 'right' left is sort of embarrassing, but it no longer ruins my day. And then there was the time when I subbed Stiff White Guys that I lead the wrong seed sound chant for the heart. I caught it right in the middle on HAAAAAAAMMMMM. I immediately corrected it by saying 'you might of felt that in the throat more than the heart, because the seed sound for the heart is YAM. Let's try it again'. Oddly enough I personally thought the mistake was hilarious. It cracked me up right there in the middle of class, and I was over it by MMMM.  I hope I don't burn in yoga hell.

I also wonder if one can b-line her way to yoga hell by misquoting the yoga sutras. The teachings of the sutras touch my heart and soothe my soul. I've wanted to talk about them and bring them into class for a very long time. But I've been so afraid to do so. I think its related to my upbringing in the bible belt south, all that fire and brimstone stuff. Finally, however, the sutras have started coming out. Naturally. Except that the first time I quoted the sutra,  I left out the word 'vittri' from sutra 1.2. Ooooops. 

I come from a culture that was not very forgiving. There wasn't a lot of room for mistakes. Not only was the threat of burning in hell always looming over my head, but also the possibility of getting thrown off the social registry for such infractions as eating with the wrong fork or wearing the wrong color of shoes after Labor Day. And all points in between. I became wrapped so tight in rules that I almost died. Forgiveness saved my life. I therefore really pay attention when it shows up. Particularly when the lesson is more difficult than doing chataranga pose correctly. 

I stick close to the practice of yoga because it softens the blow of self judgement while simultaneously teaching me responsibility. My practice is more about learning from my mistakes that constantly trying to avoid them. Holding back is just no longer an option. Its chataranga or bust, when sometimes bust is the option and forgiveness is the antidote. Because I'm human. Because I'm a yogi. That's why its called the practice of yoga.

Puppy Love

I'm in puppy love with my new pet Pomeranian named Lucy! One look at this creature and you can't help but melt. She's only eight weeks old, black with a tan little raccoon like mask and cute little tan booties.  The corners of my lips curl upward like some kind of autoreflex at the mere sight of her. To touch her feels like fluffy little clouds and to take a whiff of her puppy breath you can smell the sweetness of life itself. Its all quite an experience for a sensate like me. Lucy's got the whole lovin' package. She brings out the ooh ooh ooh in Luuuuucy!

In the midst of this love fest I've noticed something quite bothersome. There is a piece of me that is scared to death, and holding back on my full capacity to love this fur ball freely. Its little, buried, hidden from the external obviousness of the situation, but its there. In February I had a 16 month old Pomeranian disappear from the front yard and he broke my heart. There is a defense mechanism that is cased in a shell so hard that even puppy love can't penetrate it.  When I get still, I can hear the real issue come up. The big question is 'can I learn to truly love again?'

Now that's a whopper. It is one of my deep core issues in life. I've 12-stepped it, read about it in almost every self help book published, OM'ed over it, earned degrees in search of it, been shrunk by psychiatrists, and shared about it with friends over tea . Finally I got tired of bummin' out over it and trying to fix it and decided to have some fun with it. I've made my mission statement "I'm learning to love again!". 

I've found that for me intentions work really well. Where there were walls, I've found windows, and from time to time even doors appear. I know its up to me to keep walking through those open doors even though it can be oh so hard. What keeps me going is that every time, not just every so often, not most of the time, every single time I've surrendered, I've grown closer to finding my internal alignment with Love. PS, though, admittedly, sometimes it has looked a little weird.

My lesson for love today comes in a black and tan bundle of fur. Not a bad deal at all.

Oh! I just looked down as I'm writing the final words to this blog. At my feet, curled up napping is Lucy. I'm smiling all over again and a little closer to true love. 

Namaste.

Joy Showed Up

I raced to the studio tonight to teach the 6P class. I expected at least 10 students. I expected to teach a new series I'm working on, even though there was a part of me that really wasn't 'feeling' the new series, if you know what I mean. 

This new 'Path of the Warrior' series that I'm teaching has several poses that are new to my teaching repertoire, which in and of itself is cool, but it is definitely an extra load of work. And tonight I'm a little on the raw side as I've spent over 18 hours out of the last 48 in an intense workshop at Oxnard College. It is the first weekend in a course that fulfills the classroom hours to become a state certified Alcohol and Drug Abuse/Domestic Violence counselor. Its one of the darker corners of the recovery counseling world. What makes training particularly intense is that as a counselor-to-be, it is of the utmost importance that I clearly come to terms in my own relationship with the subject. Although this is not my first time to look at my stuff here, and I'm sure it won't be my last, it has nonetheless made for a gut wrenching two days and I'm pretty spent.

So I open the doors of the studio, and in the back of my mind I'm wondering how I'm going to pull this class off. I took some of the sage from the front altar, said a little prayer for strength and guidance and wafted the sage to clear my energetic field. I rolled a pink (my favorite color) mat on the floor and did a few gentle sun salutations to get the kinks out. At the precise moment I'd completed the salutations, I heard a student enter the studio. Ok... here we go.

A woman who has been coming to class for several weeks comes in, and we chat comfortably as she sets up her mat and props. I don't know this woman well, but I've always really liked her mojo. She is easy to be with and I enjoy her company. After what seemed to be just a few moments, I glanced at the clock, and saw that it was 6:15. Humm....how about them apples! It's just going to be me and this lovely woman tonight. 'How awesome is that', I thought to myself. 

This woman is of the newby variety. This is the practice that we did:

Sukasana

Sit

Gentle neck stretch 

Seated Cat/cow

Forward fold

Deep breathing with Arms overhead

Gentle seated spine twist

Roll on to backs

Windshield wiper

Single leg lifted, ankle circles

Single leg open to the side

Eye of the Needle

Eye of the Needle twist

switch sides

All fours

Cat/Cow with Lion's Breath

Balasana

1/4 Dog

Downward Dog

All Fours/lower to earth

Sphinx

reverse Windshield wiper

All fours

Down dog

Tadasasa

Side stretch

Uttanasana w/arms overheand

other side

1/4 Sun Salutes

Lunge Salutes with arms overhead/arms behind

Low cobra and Locust in between w/reverse windshield wiper

Roll on to backs

Supported backbend on bolster, legs in supported Baddha Konasana

3 part breathing

drift to Savasana (about 7 minutes total)

Roll off bolster

Flat savasana (about 3 minutes)

Sit

Namaste

I just made up the practice as we went. I don't ever do that. I always have a plan; I'm way to scared to just let it all go. Not that I think its particularly prudent for me to do as a regular teaching  practice, but tonight it just seemed so clear to go with it. It was like this woman and I were tuned to the unfolding of movements and carried by a flow of something a lot bigger than what I could begin to 'plan'. 

And speaking of tunes, another unusual thing about the practice tonight is that I played a homemade CD during the practice. Just as we were finishing the 3 part breath awareness on the bolster and settling into loosening the grip on the breath, "Into the Mystic" by Van Morrison drifted into the room. It cued at the most perfectly orchestrated timing. If I wasn't so relaxed and feeling so yummy, I probably would have been a little spooked. 

Our Namaste was authentic, and the woman and I left the studio;  she went her way, and I drove home. I had a deep sense of calm and peace inside. A grounding and bliss that I hadn't felt in over 48 hours. I was thinking how grateful I felt that this woman had showed up to practice this evening. And then I heard a cosmic "hello and pay attention" when I realized that this lovely woman who showed up tonight...her name is JOY.

God speaks to me, provides for me, and shows up for me in the most delightful and unexpected ways, literally filling my life with abundant joy. How much more obvious can the message get? I am getting better at recognizing it and connecting to it when I let go of my big fat plan for life, relax, and go with the flow. 

Soul Food

Ahhh..Monday morning yoga. I was out of town this weekend and it felt so good to be back in my home studio. I was all chill and happy...until we came to our first downward facing dog. On the bottom of my right foot, about half an inch below my little toe I felt a sharp pain. I swept my hand underneath in an attempt to brush it off...whatever it was, but it didn't work. So I did what I usually do when I feel uncomfortable. I ignored it. 

By the time we got to standing in Tadasana it was all I could think about. My pain. We went down into a lunge, which temporarily alleviated the problem, but when we went into hammock pose, there it was again. My mind said, 'well, I'll  just go back to the lunge', and then took a giant irrational leap of thinking,  'I'll just stay in lunge all day long so I don't have to deal with it'. That's when I knew I was edging into psycho territory.  

I tried my best for the next several postures to stay in the flow of what everybody else was doing in spite of my discomfort and clearly knowing I needed to investigate the pain. I didn't want to miss out on any of the fun, and certainly didn't want to miss out on any enlightenment. Finally the insanity of my mind was so obvious that I just plopped down, turned my foot to get a better view of the situation and dug into the mischief. I found a little chard of green glass from a shattered bottle of Pelegrino I had dropped in my kitchen last night. It took a little uncomfortable digging, but I finally got it out. It felt so good to remove that rascal. As I rubbed the sole of my foot, soothing the aftermath of the ache, I couldn't help but laugh to myself when I noticed the irony...here I am on the mat again...and digging into my soul. If I continually focus on what's happening on the outside, with keeping up with the crowd, with being scared that the secret to life is out there somewhere and I'm missing it, well then, I'm never going to alleviate the suffering in my own being. Dive IN Girlfriend!

When I rejoined the class, the first few poses were all about making sure I was safe. Am I sure I got the whole chard out? I wonder if I'm bleeding? Do I have glass anywhere else? Most of my attention was still on that little spot on the bottom of my foot. What good is it do the work of removing the glass if I can't enjoy the freedom of healing? It became clear that it is time to let go of the suffering for the moment. As the yoga sutras suggest (and Uma Goswami reminded me), practice Santosha/contentment. Those moments of contentment extended all the way through the rest of class, and is continuing through the rest of my Monday.

Santosha. Its seriously good food for the soul.

Yo Mama!

Recently I lost my voice. Like a tidal wave I felt it coming on. First with a little tickle in the throat, then came the deep raspy noise. I ignored it all and kept going and pushing. Soon it just stopped. Shut down completely.  For about two days not even a squeak came out. The timing was somewhat unfortunate as it coincided with my boyfriend's birthday. In jest he commented about it and said with a chuckle, 'Winifred, that's the perfect birthday present, you losing your voice!'. I was not at all amused. 

Maybe it was a touch of the flu but the truth of the matter is that I knew deep down that something important was going on inside. I have a long history of throat mischief that is linked to a massive movement of internal energy. I take stress right in the throat and have ever since I was a little girl. This is not my first 'losing my voice' rodeo.

Yoga is teaching me to trust my body and its signals.  Not honoring that ultimately means trouble, especially for me in matters of the throat. If I look closely and honestly, I can trace something out of balance between my head and my heart. And just below that I can feel a control issue burning away in my soul. I've actually researched 5th chakra issues and found that addiction is one of the primary illnesses that can  result of dysfunction in this area. Surprise, surprise. 

Modern mystic Caroline Myss writes that the 5th chakra is the willpower chakra. "The symbolic challenge of the willpower chakra is to progress through the maturation of will: from the tribal perception that everyone and everything around you has authority over you, through the perception that you alone have authority over you; to the final perception that true authority comes from aligning yourself to God's will".  This maturation of the will business is constantly on my life's radar, and when I'm really off base, my throat shuts down cold.

I'd just returned from my 30 year high school reunion in Dallas, Texas and it was about as tribal of an experience as I'll ever hope to have and about as much fun as I've ever had, period. Part of my throat might have just plumb tuckered out from talking and laughing so much for three solid days. Maybe all this is just a case of the flu after all.

But it was the quiet moments, away from the crowds and the parties that really moved me. Like throwing open the french doors in my hotel room and feeling the heavy May humidity and hearing the mockingbirds sing. Like walking down the halls of my high school and feeling into all the awkwardness as a teenager while being fully present in my adult body. Like driving around the old neighborhood and getting flooded with early memories. One evening, late after the festivities were over,  I drove by my old house on the corner of  Euclid and Abbott. I parked across the street from this magnificent and beautiful home and just stared into the property. The lights were casting the most familiar shadows on the front drive and the crickets were chirping in the Texas night air. I could almost feel my Mom and Dad on the other side of the door. I wanted to run to the front door and reach to hug both my parents. I wanted to wrap my arms around them both and say, Thank you! I know you did the very best you could, I really appreciate this sweet place you brought me up in.  I know you both loved me very much and  I love you back!' I wanted to say those words so bad. Like losing my voice, I can't. My Dad is deceased, and my mother, well, we've had some issues.

The fact that I even felt that way is a total miracle and miles away from how I've ever felt in Dallas, Texas, or anywhere else, for that matter. I think I'm beginning to integrate bits and pieces of myself that had totally blown apart and have a refreshed perspective on this thing called life. Those tribal 'things' that once haunted me so no longer have their powerful grip on me and life is beginning to take on the quality of feeling safe and secure while moving away from fear and anger. Like yoga, this is all practice.

May 10, the day I lost my voice was not only my boyfriend's birthday, but it was also Mother's Day. I literally could not speak. I was stuck in my holding pattern of knowing what I needed to do and say but on the other hand was terrified to do it. My heart wanted to say I love you Mom, and all is forgiven, my head was stuck in 'does this mean she WINS?'.

I surrender. I just can't do this battle any longer. I choose to be a daughter of Love. 

The next day I got a shot of antibiotics in my butt and the return of my voice in my throat. One of the first things I did was call my Mom. It was a short, fairly uneventful call, but I find one doesn't really have to speak a lot when the head and the heart are connected. It was a voice of Truth, and one that had taken the leap of faith that love conquers all.

Mat Moves

The first yoga style of practice that caught my attention was Bikram. I loved the practice! I bet I've done the 26 posture class a few thousand times. I have to admit that one of the reasons I liked it so well was that I was able to 'lock my knee', a controversial but ubiquitous instruction in the series, and therefore could get into some of the advanced stretches of the poses. My practice and life at the time was much more about how I looked than how I felt. My whole behavior was steeped in overriding signals coming from the inside out. I did a heck of a lot of damage to myself in those days, and I'm not just taking about my jamming my leg straight to the point of bone on bone grinding compression. But its a useful metaphor. I think you get the point.

You see, I have a slight hyperextension in both my knees, so slight it often gets undetected from a teacher's eye so I never get called out on it. But it is comfortable and gives me a wicked forward fold and hamstring stretch so I keep doing it in spite of the fact that I know good and well it is not healthy for me.  Frankly I've put it on the back burner of things to work on and sort of forgot about my cheatin' little hyperextension. But I got busted by Patricia Sullivan in her workshop a few months ago and its been on my mind every practice since. This time around I'm ready to deal with it. Ahimsa, the practice of non violence as suggested in the sutras is a wonderful healing practice that has saved my ass in so many ways, including quitting cigarettes and alcohol, and is one of the lessons I'm using to help me break my addiction to my locked knee.

So in class and in my private practice I've been trying to keep a slight bend in my knee, especially in my standing poses. I've wobbled, fallen, cursed like a sailor, ignored the problem, and spaced out right there on the mat because it feels so weird to build another pattern based on taking good care of myself. It brings up rage, fear, feelings of inadequacy, faking appearances, and from time to time, although its rare, accepting and loving what is. But that's what is bringing me to the mat these days. I'm starting to string together more and more moments of acceptance with my knee bent. Its practice, practice, practice and lots of Warrior poses. Triangle, on the otherhand,  is a battleground. It wreaks havoc on my ankles, knees, hips and shreds my heart with the unkindness it brings up. I've taken to moving my practice mat in the studio to the corner of the room as not to spread my vibes as I work through this stuff.

What's interesting is that as a result my legs are getting stronger.  Not only my muscles and joints, but also my inner strength. As I'm learning to remove the block in my knee so that energy can flow authentically, I 'm actually learning to honor and embrace the Divine within. The big lesson is that by tapping into the sacred, I'm learning to feel safe on my own strong legs. Without forcing my own will, without relying on old patterns that don't serve me, and without harming myself or others along the way.   

In fact, I think I'm ready to move my mat back in again to join in closer with the class.  

Namaste.