For those not in the know, WWE is the name for what used to formerly be known as WWF. WWE stands for World Wrestling Entertainment, but it used to known as WWF, for World Wrestling Foundation. Since their acronym was the same as the World Wide Fund for Nature’s (the one with the cute panda symbol), the confusion got to be too much. I don’t remember how the story went down, but evidently the name changed after one too many panda or gorilla searches resulted in The Grave Digger instead.

All my life, I’ve been strong. Well, until a twin pregnancy. And after the twin pregnancy, and just the twins. My back got compromised enough to where when I picked up my 18 month old up at an angle from a friend’s staircase, I felt a click in my back. By that night, it was unbelievably stiff, and by the next morning, I couldn’t move without crying. Getting off the bed took probably five minutes of agony and incremental movements, and it took me more than a week to gingerly recover. And as anyone who has ever hurt their back before can tell you, once you’ve jacked it, it is more vulnerable to repetitive injury.

It was some time after that event that I fully committed to yoga. Up to that point, I would say I was a situational practitioner, practicing like crazy for a few months, injuring myself, and then being off the mat for at least a couple. I’ve seen a lot of great changes in my strength, my flexibility, my ability to bounce back after illness or injury since that point, and it just keeps getting better. I’ve also seen great growth in my emotional and spiritual well-being, but that isn’t what this post is about…so let’s talk about my back.

I had known that my back was stronger, and that when I hurt it a little, I would feel better by the next day again. But, finally, my strength got put to the test. Like how Tigger bounces everyone in an unprovoked or unannounced way (the book is better, but here’s a little clip from the movie) or a wrestler might drop down on a vulnerable opponent, I was lying face down on my bed reading when my now 6 year old suddenly ran into the room and threw herself down on my lower back. I heard the click, I felt the spasm, and I thought “Oh crap. How am I going to teach two classes tomorrow?”

Well, maybe not much of a spoiler, since I’ve been leading you to this point, but the next day while I was achy, I was fine. The day after that, it was like it never happened.

So, maybe you worry that you aren’t “strong enough” to do yoga, or to move your body. You can be. It may not be dramatic enough to support a 50 pound missile slamming into your spine with velocity, but everyone starts somewhere. You can get stronger a little bit at a time, gradually ramping up as ability increases.

If you are already active, where did you start? If you aren’t active yet, what’s holding you back? I invite you to share in the comments, and email me if you want to get active, but aren’t sure how to start. Or, just come to my Beginner’s class!



Foundational Integrity

This week, we’ve had Peter Bertero visit us at Downtown Yoga Shala.  I didn’t get to meet with him during his workshop on Saturday, so I booked a private session with him.  When I was a new student of Ashtanga a couple of years ago, we had the great privilege to have him as our teacher for an extended period of time.  Because I was new to this style of yoga, I was still struggling through everything, and trying to rush through the poses.  I famously remember him telling me to start over once, and to do the standing sequence again, but more slowly, which, as you might imagine, was miserable.  But, I never rushed those poses again.

Well, in my private session, I got the same advice, but for different reasons.  As my practice has grown to about 90 minutes, without even meaning to, I would move through it like I was “mowing the lawn.”  My intention hasn’t stayed with every pose with integrity.  I’ve been putting my focus on the new things I’m trying to learn to master, and less on my foundation, from which all ability springs.  So today, I did things differently.  I didn’t worry about doing every single pose.  I luxuriated through my sun salutations, breathed every moment of the standing postures, holding them for twice the length.  I didn’t worry about my “goal” of busting through every single asana.  In this way, my old practice became new again.  In refining each of my foundational poses, it felt new.  I went deeper, intentionally moving my body in new and challenging ways, building off of what I already knew.  I wouldn’t have been capable of feeling these poses in this way before, because my abilities have deepened, but had I not revisited my foundation, I couldn’t really progress in the new poses either.

Recently, we received a bounty of acceptance letters for our two almost kindergarteners for their schooling.  I’m kind of one of those people who prefers being hemmed in by decisions sometimes.  “Oh well, I didn’t get xyz, I guess it’s up to fate!”  Nothing sends me into a tailspin of anxiety like too many open doors.  Well, we got a bunch of open doors, and ultimately, it came down to one school vs. another.  Both are good choices, but I found myself wanting to go with the path of least resistance, picking the closer school, going where I know we have friends.  Finally, I went and revisited my initial choice, and had a bit of a realization.  I remembered my foundations for what I wanted for my children.  What is my educational philosophy?  Well, it’s this one!  So, why was I getting so distracted with everything else?

It’s living in the “and then, and then, and then”.  On the mat, I do this, then this, then this, and phew!  I’m done!  For schools, I was thinking in a fear-based way.  Will it be hard to volunteer?  Will the drive be too long?  And darn it, our best friends aren’t going there!  My children will be late and friendless…but then I remembered that everything changes anyway. Being locked in worry and anticipation doesn’t mean that you can avoid upheaval.  It’s coming for you, no matter how much energy you expend trying not to let it happen.

Only by finding my foundation again could I progress in my yoga practice.  And is “progress” what I am after?  What does that mean to me?  Do I want to do a bunch of show-offy things?  Well, yes, but that’s not all I want.  I want to be present.  I want to live the moments that I am living, not thinking of the next thing.  So for now, until it’s not right anymore, I am going to focus on my foundation.  Today, that’s where I put my energy, and not only did it feel like something fresh, difficult, and spectacular, it also brought me to my best headstand yet.

Think about where you’ve gotten distracted.  What is fundamentally true for you that you’ve let slip to the sidelines?  Dig back down to the concrete, and then rebuild your house.

Of Flies and Children

A month or two ago, the excellent Jörgen Christiansson visited us at Downtown Yoga Shala, for an entire week.  We did a lot of yoga, but we also were able to gain a lot of verbal wisdom from his lectures, as he has lived a yogic life.  One of the stories Jörgen told had a particular impact on me, as I’ve found it pretty much applicable to everything.  He described a day in which some flies got into his studio, and all of the students in Mysore class that morning kept batting at the flies, losing their focus, and generally not focusing on their practice.  Finally, Jörgen told them, “stop bothering the flies!”

So, of flies and children.  Sometimes I am not able to get to the studio, or I am working on a sequence at home to teach in the studio.  Now, I look at those inspirational yoga photos that are all over Facebook from time to time, and about 1 out of every 50 features an adorable child following along with their mother or father, practicing something beautiful.  Some have their children plastered to them, but the child is doing yoga too!  My 5 year old twins are not that way.  I’ve tried to do yoga with them, but they horse around like crazy.  One of mine, she likes to ham it up;  pretend to fall over, “slip”, do everything in opposites.  The other just wants to chat.

I’ve tried sneaking to the living room to practice, long before anyone should wake up.  But as soon as I am in a groove, my kids sense it and magically awaken (usually my chief conspirator who gets so silly).  This week, I remembered about the flies, and when my girl wanted to be with me, I got her a mat to use, laid it down next to mine, and just did my thing.  Sometimes I gave her a little advice, but by and large, I let her slip, and giggle, and use all her wrong arms and legs.  You know what?  It worked out.  A little of the time, she did it right.  A lot of the time she just had fun.  And I wrote my sequence, and practiced, and felt good about it.  Maybe someday my kids will love yoga, maybe they won’t.  But, they’ll remember that I love it, and they’ll remember that they had fun.  I am going to “stop bothering” my children, at least when it comes to yoga.