Where I'll be this week:
Monday-teaching at Patanjali's at 5:45. A really nice class, an hour and fifteen minutes long, usually small so lots of opportunity to ask questions.
Tuesday-I'll be taking Heidi Hubbard's class at Patanjali's. This is a relatively new class with an instructor who is strong with cueing and who let's you have your practice. If you want to see whether or not I can pull off the moves I ask others to do, here's your chance to see for yourself. Come join Heidi.
Wednesday-I'm taking Christine Wall's class at Sync Studio at 12:00. Christine is the manager of the studio, and has this amazing practice herself, which you can see on my website because she's the main model. Then, I'm teaching an hour-long class at Patanjali's at 5:00. If you like to get in and out quick, this is a great class.
Thursday-I'll be back taking Allison Denis's class at Open heart Yoga School in Carborro at 5:45. She is an instructor whose class I fell in love with about two years ago. Just really strong on anatomy, a gentle warm nature, and committed to teaching more than movement-she teaches YOGA.
Friday-I teach at 4:15 at Blue Point Yoga on Erwin Road. Another hour-long class, in a really simple, beautiful, and inviting space. You can see it in the photos on my site, because this is where we took them.
Saturday-I teach at 8:00 at Patanjali's. This class is dear to my heart because it's the very first one I taught. I appreciate Bryan (Patanjali's founder) and respect him, and love starting the morning moving, flowing, and connecting gently. I teach again at 12:15 at Sync Studio. This class is probably the most engaging that I teach each week. The room is generally packed, Ali Hinks is usually there to assist, and if you look from Durham east at about 1:30 you can probably see a blue light emanating up into the atmosphere from all the good vibes flowing.
Sunday-I'll be taking Amy Hambrick's new class Yoga Explorer at Patanjali's at 6:00pm. Amy is smart, strong and 'gets' yoga. I advise making this class part of your week, especially because of it's timing on Sunday evening, propelling you forward into the week.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Lately I have been interested in how a flow yoga class gives us an opportunity to play around with being an adult, with gaining maturity. And it comes because of inherent contradictions:
Contradictions between doing what the instructor asks us to do, and what we feel we are able to do. Between the perfect pose, and the pose our bodies can do that day. Between what the world seems to be asking of us, and what we want to do. Between the ideal and the practical.
We get tired, our bodies ache, we wonder if this move is healthy, whether our shoulder or knee will hold up. Is this the move that bothers my back? Should I ease back now so I'll have the energy to make it through to the end?
These contradictions lead to a choice: do we give up being an adult and instead blame the instructor, get mad at ourselves, pay more attention to the people around us, give up completely, or power on through while paying no more attention to what we feel? Or do we instead negotiate between the contradictions. Do we play around with what is possible and incorporate what is workable. Do we use our capacities to nurture, to choose wisely--maybe re-choose when necessary--and to understand that there is no perfect solution? Because on our road to being a fully mature and self-realized adult we need to learn to negotiate between those two realms.
Sometimes I visualize this dilemma as being caught between the ocean and the shore. The ocean is a vast area of possibility, teeming with energy. It is the pose as it appears on the cover of yoga journal, or on the person next to you, or as the instructor asks for. The shore is our unyielding body or mind. Flawed, tired, injured, firm, not yet ready. The vision of perfection pushes up against our unyielding body or mind, like the ocean crashing into shore. The result is an area of meeting--the surf.
Now, we could get all crazy with the analogy and say that over time the surf reworks the shoreline, just as yoga restructures our bodies, or that when the difference between what we are asked to do and what we can is large, the surf is violent and pounds against us. Etc.
But for now, how about this. Can we play around in the surf? Have you ever stood in the surf and tried to be firm, unyielding? It doesn't work well, you get knocked over. But what if you leap, and dance ,and float, and dive? This area of intense energy and potential danger becomes fun, exciting and brings joyful exultation. We test our strength and our capabilities, not by opposing or resolving, but by working within and being playful. And to learn to do this may just be part of what it means to be an adult.
Contradictions between doing what the instructor asks us to do, and what we feel we are able to do. Between the perfect pose, and the pose our bodies can do that day. Between what the world seems to be asking of us, and what we want to do. Between the ideal and the practical.
We get tired, our bodies ache, we wonder if this move is healthy, whether our shoulder or knee will hold up. Is this the move that bothers my back? Should I ease back now so I'll have the energy to make it through to the end?
These contradictions lead to a choice: do we give up being an adult and instead blame the instructor, get mad at ourselves, pay more attention to the people around us, give up completely, or power on through while paying no more attention to what we feel? Or do we instead negotiate between the contradictions. Do we play around with what is possible and incorporate what is workable. Do we use our capacities to nurture, to choose wisely--maybe re-choose when necessary--and to understand that there is no perfect solution? Because on our road to being a fully mature and self-realized adult we need to learn to negotiate between those two realms.
Sometimes I visualize this dilemma as being caught between the ocean and the shore. The ocean is a vast area of possibility, teeming with energy. It is the pose as it appears on the cover of yoga journal, or on the person next to you, or as the instructor asks for. The shore is our unyielding body or mind. Flawed, tired, injured, firm, not yet ready. The vision of perfection pushes up against our unyielding body or mind, like the ocean crashing into shore. The result is an area of meeting--the surf.
Now, we could get all crazy with the analogy and say that over time the surf reworks the shoreline, just as yoga restructures our bodies, or that when the difference between what we are asked to do and what we can is large, the surf is violent and pounds against us. Etc.
But for now, how about this. Can we play around in the surf? Have you ever stood in the surf and tried to be firm, unyielding? It doesn't work well, you get knocked over. But what if you leap, and dance ,and float, and dive? This area of intense energy and potential danger becomes fun, exciting and brings joyful exultation. We test our strength and our capabilities, not by opposing or resolving, but by working within and being playful. And to learn to do this may just be part of what it means to be an adult.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Rumi: Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built.
In my experience, yogi's are well-skilled in being thankful. But, if you are like me, you have much more trouble letting the thanks IN. Have you ever tried thanking someone who wouldn't be thanked?
"Thank you."
Reply: "No trouble, anyone would have done the same."
"Maybe, but you took the time, and I appreciate it."
Reply: "It was no big deal."
"And yet it meant so much to me."
Reply: "No worries..."
Pretty soon you find yourself fighting with the person you're trying to thank. You want to say, "Here! This is my thanks to you, take it!" And you find yourself blocked. The flow of good feeling and relationship is stopped by a barrier.
We can see how stopped energy effects our bodies, and not in some esoteric way. When we move, mechanical energy needs to flow from our upper bodies to our lower bodies, from our arms to our legs, through our torsos. This happens when we walk, when we pick things up, and when we push or pull. When energy doesn't flow through this kinetic chain because of tight or weak muscles, we end up with back and neck pain. Our bodies aren't functioning properly and we suffer as a result of our inability to flow simple mechanical energy from one point to another.
My belief is that the subtle universe works the same way. All the good feelings and positive relationships that you want to create, all that outward energy needs to land somewhere. And yet, when are WE the ones who are unwilling to accept the energy flowing from others? When do we block the flow of others' deep-felt and genuine gratitude? When do we block this natural two-way flow of relationship, and through our ignorance seek to make it one-way?
And so on Thanksgiving Day at Sync Studio we practiced allowing ourselves to be thanked for all the wonderful things we do for others. We practiced softening those barriers which we have built that prevent simple thankfulness, which is just another way of saying love, from flowing between us and others. In doing so, we restored the two-way flow of energy between us in that room, and practiced the skill of being open to others that we could then bring to our relationships around the table that day.
Thank you all who attended class with Amy and me on Thanksgiving. I find it amazing, how the Rumi quote seemed to have been actualized in the room. There was this really special feeling in the air, as 26 of us breathed and moved and let our gentle natures mingle.
In my experience, yogi's are well-skilled in being thankful. But, if you are like me, you have much more trouble letting the thanks IN. Have you ever tried thanking someone who wouldn't be thanked?
"Thank you."
Reply: "No trouble, anyone would have done the same."
"Maybe, but you took the time, and I appreciate it."
Reply: "It was no big deal."
"And yet it meant so much to me."
Reply: "No worries..."
Pretty soon you find yourself fighting with the person you're trying to thank. You want to say, "Here! This is my thanks to you, take it!" And you find yourself blocked. The flow of good feeling and relationship is stopped by a barrier.
We can see how stopped energy effects our bodies, and not in some esoteric way. When we move, mechanical energy needs to flow from our upper bodies to our lower bodies, from our arms to our legs, through our torsos. This happens when we walk, when we pick things up, and when we push or pull. When energy doesn't flow through this kinetic chain because of tight or weak muscles, we end up with back and neck pain. Our bodies aren't functioning properly and we suffer as a result of our inability to flow simple mechanical energy from one point to another.
My belief is that the subtle universe works the same way. All the good feelings and positive relationships that you want to create, all that outward energy needs to land somewhere. And yet, when are WE the ones who are unwilling to accept the energy flowing from others? When do we block the flow of others' deep-felt and genuine gratitude? When do we block this natural two-way flow of relationship, and through our ignorance seek to make it one-way?
And so on Thanksgiving Day at Sync Studio we practiced allowing ourselves to be thanked for all the wonderful things we do for others. We practiced softening those barriers which we have built that prevent simple thankfulness, which is just another way of saying love, from flowing between us and others. In doing so, we restored the two-way flow of energy between us in that room, and practiced the skill of being open to others that we could then bring to our relationships around the table that day.
Thank you all who attended class with Amy and me on Thanksgiving. I find it amazing, how the Rumi quote seemed to have been actualized in the room. There was this really special feeling in the air, as 26 of us breathed and moved and let our gentle natures mingle.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Tuesday Continued
Here's what I prepare when I teach a yoga class:
A quick joke or story from my day: I saw my new favorite bumber sticker today--"Unless you're a tattoo, get off my ass!" Settle down into your seated posture, and give yourself all the room you need.
Some combination of seated meditation/body adjustment/breathwork: To give yourself more room, bring your attention to your spine and separate it into segments. Lengthen first at your low back, next in the lower middle back, next at the vertebrae between your shoulder blades, finally at your neck.
A quote to set the tone or else context for the intention: You may choose an intention to gather something unto yourself today during your practice--peace or strength or courage or community, something like that. Or you may choose an intention to set somethin free--worry or fear or upset or hurt or loneliness, something like that. Of course, you could always dedicate your practice to someone or something else.
A warm-up sequence or theme: A sequence of spinal flexion/extension. Start with movement from childs to hands/knees, then move through Cat/Cow, then recreate that movement in downdog, and again recreate that movement in updog.
General poses I want to flow through: No warrior I today, spend a lot of time working spine in crescent lunge, Do a flipped dog today instead of fallen warrior. Mostly, I watch the class and move into poses that look called for.
At least one 3-5 minute hold: Pigeon or frog or cowface.
The reflective song I'll play in the held pose: Love is Looking for You by Miranda Lambert
The upward prana moving song I'll play in a 3-5 minute shoulderstand: Someone to lean on
A Savasana metaphor: Anahatta Chakra
Closing quote: A perfect falcon, for no reason, lands on your shoulder and becomes yours.
Of course the trick for me, and what seems to differentiate a good class from an exceptional one, is how well I transition between the sections. Some days all the variables seem to meld together into an overarching theme. Class becomes alive, an act of creation. Others...Well, I can see the wheels turning in my head as look for the connections which somedays just don't come.
I remember a conversation with a wonderful massage therapist named Leslie Roach. She shared how in massage therapy school they spoke directly to "taking care of your instrument". Get sleep, eat well, clear your mind, etc. Those seem to have a large impact on whether the connections happen in my mind on those wonderful class days.
A quick joke or story from my day: I saw my new favorite bumber sticker today--"Unless you're a tattoo, get off my ass!" Settle down into your seated posture, and give yourself all the room you need.
Some combination of seated meditation/body adjustment/breathwork: To give yourself more room, bring your attention to your spine and separate it into segments. Lengthen first at your low back, next in the lower middle back, next at the vertebrae between your shoulder blades, finally at your neck.
A quote to set the tone or else context for the intention: You may choose an intention to gather something unto yourself today during your practice--peace or strength or courage or community, something like that. Or you may choose an intention to set somethin free--worry or fear or upset or hurt or loneliness, something like that. Of course, you could always dedicate your practice to someone or something else.
A warm-up sequence or theme: A sequence of spinal flexion/extension. Start with movement from childs to hands/knees, then move through Cat/Cow, then recreate that movement in downdog, and again recreate that movement in updog.
General poses I want to flow through: No warrior I today, spend a lot of time working spine in crescent lunge, Do a flipped dog today instead of fallen warrior. Mostly, I watch the class and move into poses that look called for.
At least one 3-5 minute hold: Pigeon or frog or cowface.
The reflective song I'll play in the held pose: Love is Looking for You by Miranda Lambert
The upward prana moving song I'll play in a 3-5 minute shoulderstand: Someone to lean on
A Savasana metaphor: Anahatta Chakra
Closing quote: A perfect falcon, for no reason, lands on your shoulder and becomes yours.
Of course the trick for me, and what seems to differentiate a good class from an exceptional one, is how well I transition between the sections. Some days all the variables seem to meld together into an overarching theme. Class becomes alive, an act of creation. Others...Well, I can see the wheels turning in my head as look for the connections which somedays just don't come.
I remember a conversation with a wonderful massage therapist named Leslie Roach. She shared how in massage therapy school they spoke directly to "taking care of your instrument". Get sleep, eat well, clear your mind, etc. Those seem to have a large impact on whether the connections happen in my mind on those wonderful class days.
Tuesday October 26th
Sang a great song with Sotar on Saturday night. "God and I are like 2 giant fat people in a tiny boat. We keep bumping into one another, and laughing."
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