Tag: truth

2019 has been a bear so far

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An interesting insight I’ve obtained from having two family members die within 2 months from one another:

This thing is too big to handle in the usual way.

If you don’t know what I mean, think about what you do when something small, and say, more than an annoyance, but less than catastrophic happens in your life. We usually have a comfort zone of how we handle things. I, for example, will generally take refuge in books (generally something that has a half-clothed duke or baron on the cover holding a wind-swept, but lovely lady) and hunker down, waiting for the storm to pass.

When your brother dies, and then your mom dies, all the Julia Quinn in the world isn’t going to help. This is when we have to think about our resources, and not just put out fires, but watch for a hint of smoke, a hard, dry wind, and try to keep the yard damp.

Instead of my usual MO, I’ve called in my people (and there are so many of you!), and returned those phone calls of love, and responded to those texts, and gone to the acupuncturist. I took a couple of weeks off of teaching, am continuing bereavement leave from my other job, and cancelled volunteer engagements that I was already committing myself to for the new school year. My usual way was not, and is not going to cut it here. I have the grief to deal with, but I am also the executor to my mom’s estate, and I have to say, it’s a horrible and onerous job.

But friends, I’m back to teaching, and available again. And for all of you that I’ve heard from, thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I am loved. Thank goodness.

On Platitudes

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Friends, I have been so busy. The last two months has been a whirlwind of activity and a sinkhole of responsibility. Because of this, I haven’t written much. When I finally came out of the intense period about a week ago, I went to ground and READ LIKE CRAZY. I read some fun stuff, some serious stuff, and then I read this.

Kate Bowler’s Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved is a work of art. So often, we wish for answers to what we are going through. We want reasons, explanations, assurances, and the conviction that we are doing exactly what we should be doing. Unfortunately, while things sometimes do turn out well, it isn’t a given thing. A Job story isn’t a source of comfort to me, nor is it to our author, who gets a delayed death sentence with a baby in the house, and a history of faith. (If you don’t know what a Job story is, you can read about it here on this Wikipedia page or in brief, Job is a good, God-loving man with a wonderful life and family. Due to a wager between God and Satan, they basically destroy Job’s life and family to see if he is still righteous at the end of his suffering. Lucky Job, he passes the test, and gets an even better family. If you can’t tell, I’m not a fan of this tale).

Bowler’s story isn’t just beautifully written, she offers solid advice for people who want to help in times of trouble. I have a number of friends who have been going through some really rough times. Other friends will say, “I’ve been meaning to call, but I don’t know what to say!” Just call. You don’t have to say anything wise or good. Be practical. Send letters. Drop off food. Be yourself. And read this book. It’s brilliant.

Yoga for Depression

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I’m finishing up an excellent book, Healing Depression the Mind-Body Way by Nancy Liebler and Sandra Moss. I am not currently depressed, but I certainly have been in the past. Actually, I was first introduced to yoga about 20 years ago when I went through a severe clinical depression, which included a hefty dose of anxiety as well (as depression often does). Yoga is, and has been a touchstone, and a first line of defense when depression and/or anxiety looms.

A little more on that, because this is a topic near and dear to my heart. For many people who get out of control depression, anxiety may be the first sign. If you find yourself acting and thinking more intensely than normal, take care. The body and mind get so wound up, that eventually, the system shuts down and depression may result. Think of it as a car engine overheating. If you’ve ever driven a really crummy car, or series of (as I did for an entire decade of my life), you may have experienced this. First the gauge starts to show that you are getting too warm. If you are a reasonable driver, you may decide that you really need to get somewhere, and maybe you will see if driving slower will still get you there, or to a service station. You turn off the air, pray you hit no stoplights. Eventually, you either manage to fix the problem, or you break down. This process is very like the reality of unchecked anxiety. If you don’t slow down, and regroup, you may not make it to your service station. You may just break down, which is when anxiety turns to depression. Having a daily yoga practice is an excellent way to keep on top of how and what you are feeling.

In this book, the authors offered a great overview of the different types of depression, some Ayurveda informed practices to support the different types, lifestyle changes, and some sample case studies to use as examples. If you find that depression, sadness, or anxiety loom heavy on your heart, I encourage you to find human help. If depression is something you revisit periodically, try reading the book before you are in crisis. You may discover what your early signs are, and be able to minimize your next event. More people have experienced depression than you know. And when you make it through, I urge you to be a light for others who are caught out in the dark. Having made it through, I feel like it is my duty (and a welcome one) to look out for others who may be stumbling, or have succumbed.

If you have never experienced depression, don’t try to cheer your depressed friend up. Just sit with them. Honestly, the best thing you can do is to acknowledge their pain, in a spirit of empathy. There is a wonderful Brene Brown video on the difference between sympathy and empathy. Watch it. Being there means everything.

 

 

Kindly rejecting our own expectations

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In pretty much every class I teach is that there will be at least one person that berates themselves for their difficulty in approaching a pose. For example, a student of mine may be working towards Dancer pose, which is a balancing pose as well as a backbend. At the first sign of wobbling, or of falling out, the response is often “I can’t balance!” or maybe, “I’m just so weak” or “I have no strength!”.

What’s behind this unhelpful dialogue? In what universe is anyone expected to be able to do something perfectly every time, or even the first time?

I imagine the underlying thinking must be some variety of the following:

I can’t do this

I look dumb trying to do this

Everyone else can do this except for me

People must think I am really weak

I will never be able to do this

But, here’s the thing. The person who is doing it right now while you aren’t either really worked hard to get there, or has some genetic privilege in their favor. A perfectly executed yoga pose may take hours, or maybe even hundreds of hours to refine. And, here’s a secret you may not know. Yoga giveth, and yoga taketh away. You can practice a pose for a long time, and one day, it may not feel good in your body. Or you may have lost access to it due to illness or injury, or mysterious forces. And, that’s the practice. Yoga (despite what all those glossy magazine covers may indicate) is a practice of non-attachment, of being present with what is vs. what we want it to be. It may come back, it may not, and there are still other things to explore. Yoga isn’t just about one pose, or about perfection. Suffice to say, among many other benefits, yoga makes us more comfortable with our imperfections.

First things first though. Start speaking in the present tense. If you can’t restrain yourself from absolutes, at least put a time frame on them. Say, “I can’t balance today”. “Today, I feel weak”. Today may not be your best day, but you don’t know what tomorrow holds yet.

 

 

 

Meditating on Death, Part 2

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As I mentioned in my last post, I attended a workshop on my eventual death.  It was extremely powerful, and sort of relieving.  There were Five Recollections which came down to the following, taught by Noell Clark:

  1. I am already in a state of aging.  I have not gone beyond aging.
  2. I am subject to illness and have not gone beyond illness.
  3. I am subject to death.  I have not gone beyond death.
  4. I will be separated and parted from all that is dear and beloved to me.
  5. I am the owner of my actions, heir of my actions, born of my actions, related through my actions, supported by my actions, whatever I do for good or for evil, that I will inherit.

What I found is that there are things that are upsetting to me, and those that are not, just like anything.  However, in meditating on these truths, it’s become clear to me that it doesn’t really matter whether they upset me or not, because it’s all coming.  The beautiful and awful day I spent meditating on these things helped me to come to terms with the inevitability of them all.  Noell would read out the recollection and then give us time to meditate on it, and then more time to write about it.  The last two recollections, we undertook in the beautiful and atmospheric Santa Clara Mission Cemetery.

These truths bring us back to the reality of impermanence, in all things.  In the first recollection, realizing that I am in the best condition that I am likely to be in again was kind of shocking.  Obvious, but shocking all the same.  Things are already wearing out.  There are things I could do when I was younger that I no longer do, and things that I can do now, that I will no longer do in x amount of years/months/weeks.  Sometimes, I tell people that I knew I was middle-aged when I could no longer sell my eggs in the Pennysaver ads (you know, those advertisements when they ask for young women between the age of 18 and 35 to sell their eggs to donate to infertile couples).  It’s a joke, but also true, as most jokes are.  That doesn’t place less value on my current life, and it really never was an aspiration for me, but it is a marker of time.  There are more serious changes on the horizon, but they are already happening.  No one can slow down this train.

Recollection 4 was also a killer for me.  But again, it’s already happening.  My girls who looked at me like I was magic when they were toddlers look at me now with a more tempered love.  In 10 years, they may not want to spend much time with me.  In 20, perhaps they will dodge my phone calls.  As a bibliophile, I see how the world is falling away behind me.  Things go out of print.  Handwriting is being abandoned.  The Internet has changed human communication forever.  It’s all disappearing, and in this century, almost faster than we can get our feet on solid ground again.

And of course, Recollection 5.  What can I do with all this?  I am reaping everything I have sown.  How can I be the light, instead of the darkness?  Instead of feeding into malaise and anger, perhaps I can make things better?  No, it will never be how it was, but maybe it can still be beautiful.  Instead of being caught in the cyclone of negativity and misery that is all around us, maybe I can be a still place in this world.

In this month’s Spirituality & Health magazine, the editor referred to poet Mary Oliver.  “The same person who wrote, ‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’ also wrote ‘But no matter how hard I try to tell this story, it’s not like it was’.”

So, let’s not grasp. Spend time with the recollections, let your mind meditate on the future to come to terms with the inevitable.  Then, anchor yourself in the present to live every second you have now.  Because later, it will be gone, and you will never be able to tell that story fully again.

As always, I love comments.  Have you spent any time digging through the discomfort of inevitability?  Add your thoughts to the conversation.

 

The Thief

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When I was a younger yoga practitioner, first starting out, I constantly measured my progress and what I thought I “should” do by looking at the people around me.  “Oh, that person has their head on the floor.  Why isn’t my head on the floor?  I should be able to do that.  I am younger/been doing this longer/skinnier.”  Or, “I’ll never be able to do that, because that person is younger/been doing this longer/skinnier.”  As a result, I was really missing out on the depths of the practice.  The last couple of years, I practiced Mysore style Ashtanga Yoga.  If you aren’t familiar with that, well, here’s how it works.  You go into the studio.  The instructor isn’t instructing the group as a whole, but working through the room, offering individual guidance and instruction to each student.  While there is a led version of the class where you are learning corporately, the Mysore practice is individual as opposed to led.  You learn the sequence from the teacher, and you start when you get there with whatever poses that you’ve been given by the teacher, from the series, while the teacher gives the benefit of instruction as needed.  For more on Mysore Ashtanga, visit this website.  Each person starts with a series of Surya Namaskar A & B, and then moves into the held asanas (poses). When you do see someone, they are rarely in the same pose as you, so there isn’t anything to compare against.  That really cuts the opportunity for chatter.  Also, you tend to practice with the same rough group most mornings, and then you know how hard everyone is working.  So, when your buddy manages to break through to something new, it is thrilling.  A victory for one is a victory for all of you.  Also, it becomes evident that everyone has a struggle.  Everyone.  Some folks can’t open their side bodies so well (in poses like triangle), or some struggle in headstand.  (Well, most struggle in headstand.  Although I was just in a vinyasa class where this one guy held it for minutes, and seemed like he could have stayed there all day).

You can’t predict how someone’s yoga practice is going to go by how they look.  People will surprise you every time.  You also can’t judge what you will be able to do by how you look.  If you continue the practice, you will surprise yourself with what you can do.

Yoga is about finding union between your body, mind and spirit.  Your body, mind and spirit.  The breath links it all together.  If you are looking over at someone else, thinking of your shortcomings, or theirs, or taking pride in doing something that someone else can’t do, you are robbing yourself of the benefits of yoga.

Recently, I was in a gentle yoga class with Kyczy Hawk, who is an amazingly knowledgable, intuitive teacher, with a sense of humor that makes me bark out loud with laughter.  She is funny and wise.  During class, she said, “Comparison is the stealer of joy.  Stop comparing and enjoy yourself.”  While that is something I do know, it’s always good to have a reminder, and it has stuck with me all week, so I think I must have needed to remember it.

Expanding that concept outward, where is comparison your Achilles’ Heel?  Do you compare your house, car, kids, job, talents against someone else?  Let me know in the comments if you plan on taking action somewhere in your life.  And today, when I look at my old red couch with all the smushed cushions, I won’t think of my friends who are impeccable housekeepers with showroom ready furniture.  Oops…I already did.  I’m a work in progress, just like everyone else.

 

Foundational Integrity

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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.