For some reason I've been feeling somewhat uninspired as of late. I don't know if it's because I sense a major part of my life (at least it's been a major part for the last year) coming to close (yoga teacher training) or if I'm slightly overwhelmed by the amount of activities I have scheduled in a single week, or if it's a combination of both.
But, then, yesterday, I received a birthday gift from a friend. It's an awesome letterpress print from Hijirik Design Studio. It simply says 'Live What You Love', but it's such a perfect gift. It came at the exact right time and reminded me that, though things may be coming to an end and may be a bit hectic, I'm so lucky to be living what I love. I've been able to identify what it is that really makes me happy and make it a major part of my life. And if that isn't inspiring, I'm not sure what is.
Last night at class, I decided to set my intention to be re-inspired by my yoga practice. I think I'd fallen into a yoga slump - I was just going through the movements and not really noticing how each asana was affecting not only my body, but also my mind.
I've definitely felt this kind of slump outside of yoga, too, when I just seem to float through life, not really experiencing each moment because I want to skip ahead to the next big thing and when I stop to think about it, I realize it's such a shame to let the moments pass me by without noticing. I know if I were to slow down, I'd be inspired by so many things - big and small - and I'd realize each day that I'm living what I love, which is something to be thankful for in and of itself. So, as they say, stop (or maybe just slow down) and smell the roses (or if I had it my way, the lilacs :)).
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Beauty Behind Namaste
If you've ever attended a yoga class in the West, you've most likely encountered Namaste. However, what I've found is that not everyone really understands why we say it or what it means. In Western yoga classes it's common for the teacher to end class with it. In India and Nepal Namaste is a common greeting or salutation. Namaste literally translates to 'bow me you' or 'I bow to you'.
In both the West and the East, Namaste is usually accompanied by a slight bow of the head with the eyes closed and the hands pressed together in front of the heart-center in Anjali Mudra. In India, the gesture alone signifies Namaste and the word is usually left unsaid.
Ideally in our yoga classes, Namaste should be practiced at both the beginning and end. I hadn't really given it much thought until now, but it does usually happen at both the beginning and end of my classes. In the beginning it's unspoken but we bring our hands together at our heart-centers with our eyes closed and usually set a sankalpa or intention. In the beginning of class I see it more as a simple meditation to identify what quality or qualities you want to cultivate on your mat.
At the end of class, we bring our hands together with eyes closed again to recall the intention set at the beginning of class. After that intention is remembered and you prepare to step off your mat, the teacher usually asks the students to bow their heads towards their hearts and together the class speaks Namaste.
One of my teachers includes her interpretation of Namaste before actually ending class with it. I think that's a great idea because so many students don't know or understand the meaning of the word. Although the literal translation is quite simple, I've noticed many teachers make it their own. I really connect with what one of my teachers says, 'the light within me bows to the light within each and every one of you and every living being'. I think of it, too, as a thank you. The teacher thanking his/her students for coming to class and the students thanking the teacher for class.
In both the West and the East, Namaste is usually accompanied by a slight bow of the head with the eyes closed and the hands pressed together in front of the heart-center in Anjali Mudra. In India, the gesture alone signifies Namaste and the word is usually left unsaid.
Ideally in our yoga classes, Namaste should be practiced at both the beginning and end. I hadn't really given it much thought until now, but it does usually happen at both the beginning and end of my classes. In the beginning it's unspoken but we bring our hands together at our heart-centers with our eyes closed and usually set a sankalpa or intention. In the beginning of class I see it more as a simple meditation to identify what quality or qualities you want to cultivate on your mat.
At the end of class, we bring our hands together with eyes closed again to recall the intention set at the beginning of class. After that intention is remembered and you prepare to step off your mat, the teacher usually asks the students to bow their heads towards their hearts and together the class speaks Namaste.
One of my teachers includes her interpretation of Namaste before actually ending class with it. I think that's a great idea because so many students don't know or understand the meaning of the word. Although the literal translation is quite simple, I've noticed many teachers make it their own. I really connect with what one of my teachers says, 'the light within me bows to the light within each and every one of you and every living being'. I think of it, too, as a thank you. The teacher thanking his/her students for coming to class and the students thanking the teacher for class.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Overcoming Feelings of Unworthiness
Saturday was my last official yoga teacher training class! We still have a lot of work to do, but Saturday marked the end of our training classes. It doesn't seem possible that we're already at this point. When I started the program back in September, I had never taught an asana let alone an entire yoga class and now it's almost like second nature. I'm teaching three classes a week and, though I still fumble my words from time to time, I'm loving every minute of my classes.
In addition to becoming more comfortable teaching, I've watched my practice grow and mature. I had a pretty steady practice before the program but now I make time daily even if it's just 15 minutes to practice. And I'm more aware of carrying my intention into my life off my mat, which is just as important, if not more, as five rounds of Surya Namaskar A.
Despite all the work I've put into my training and my practice, I still find myself, from time to time, feeling unworthy of this path. I start thinking about all of my teachers and the enormous impact each of them have had on me. Sometimes it's overwhelming and I start to question whether or not I'm ready to guide someone down a similar path because, for me, teaching yoga is all about touching and helping my students in the way it helped me.
I was reading an old issue of Yoga Journal and ran across a book review of Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha by Tara Brach. She addresses thoughts of unworthiness in one of her chapters and prescribes as a potential antidote an ancient Buddhist aphorism 'cold eye, warm heart.' She describes it as "clearly recognizing what is happening inside us, and regarding what we see with an open, kind, and loving heart". I think she's trying to say that these feelings are normal and we're actually making progress if we can identify them while at the same time understand that they're most likely arising because, in this society, we are often conditioned to feel unworthy or to pass judgment on ourselves and others. She goes on to say that "although the trance of feeling separate and unworthy is an inherent part of our conditioning as humans, so too is our capacity to awaken."
Reading this review reminded me that everything doesn't have to happen right away. Affecting positive change will come with time especially since I'm taking the steps to make it happen. I remember too, what my teacher says about our first five years of teaching: "first, imitate, then, innovate." I'm still conditioned to want immediate results, but I'm slowly accepting and understanding that some of the greatest changes come with time and patience. I'm also acknowledging the thoughts of unworthiness when they arise while at the same time realizing they're mostly unfounded. I understand now that it's mainly an effect of our society's conditioning and I also know in my heart that practicing and teaching yoga is part of my path and what lies within is much more powerful than what society dictates.
In addition to becoming more comfortable teaching, I've watched my practice grow and mature. I had a pretty steady practice before the program but now I make time daily even if it's just 15 minutes to practice. And I'm more aware of carrying my intention into my life off my mat, which is just as important, if not more, as five rounds of Surya Namaskar A.
Despite all the work I've put into my training and my practice, I still find myself, from time to time, feeling unworthy of this path. I start thinking about all of my teachers and the enormous impact each of them have had on me. Sometimes it's overwhelming and I start to question whether or not I'm ready to guide someone down a similar path because, for me, teaching yoga is all about touching and helping my students in the way it helped me.
I was reading an old issue of Yoga Journal and ran across a book review of Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha by Tara Brach. She addresses thoughts of unworthiness in one of her chapters and prescribes as a potential antidote an ancient Buddhist aphorism 'cold eye, warm heart.' She describes it as "clearly recognizing what is happening inside us, and regarding what we see with an open, kind, and loving heart". I think she's trying to say that these feelings are normal and we're actually making progress if we can identify them while at the same time understand that they're most likely arising because, in this society, we are often conditioned to feel unworthy or to pass judgment on ourselves and others. She goes on to say that "although the trance of feeling separate and unworthy is an inherent part of our conditioning as humans, so too is our capacity to awaken."
Reading this review reminded me that everything doesn't have to happen right away. Affecting positive change will come with time especially since I'm taking the steps to make it happen. I remember too, what my teacher says about our first five years of teaching: "first, imitate, then, innovate." I'm still conditioned to want immediate results, but I'm slowly accepting and understanding that some of the greatest changes come with time and patience. I'm also acknowledging the thoughts of unworthiness when they arise while at the same time realizing they're mostly unfounded. I understand now that it's mainly an effect of our society's conditioning and I also know in my heart that practicing and teaching yoga is part of my path and what lies within is much more powerful than what society dictates.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Accepting Vairagya
One of the cornerstones of yoga is vairagya, or non-attachment (as translated from the Yoga Sutras), which is reached through abhyasa, or a practice or practices that lead you to a tranquil mind. Tias Little also refers to it as non-clinging, which I relate to better. The two words essentially mean the same thing but for me the idea of non-attachment seems really apathetic and non-caring whereas non-clinging still allows one to engage in life but with the knowledge that everything is impermanent and constantly changing.
When I first thought about these ideas of non-clinging and impermanence, I had two very different thoughts. Initially, I thought, 'well, that stinks' and then a few seconds later, 'but how liberating it is, too'. In many ways I think clinging to not only material things, but also decisions and thoughts can lead to suffering. We (or maybe just I) struggle to let go of past decisions, thoughts, and relationships and when I really think about it, I realize it's not doing me any good to hold on to something that isn't serving me. I just end up spending too much time rehashing, questioning, and getting frustrated by something that doesn't need to be a pivotal part of my life.
These same ideas apply to the positive things in life, too, which is why I think I initially thought, 'well, that stinks', but when I really think about it, it reinforces the reason why I shouldn't let myself get bogged down by the negative or cling to people, places, or things. I should spend every minute or as many as I can appreciating the good people and experiences in my life. I can still engage but I don't have to hook on and hold for dear life. It's a really fine line but as one of my yoga teacher says 'Never give up' but 'Always let go'.
When I first thought about these ideas of non-clinging and impermanence, I had two very different thoughts. Initially, I thought, 'well, that stinks' and then a few seconds later, 'but how liberating it is, too'. In many ways I think clinging to not only material things, but also decisions and thoughts can lead to suffering. We (or maybe just I) struggle to let go of past decisions, thoughts, and relationships and when I really think about it, I realize it's not doing me any good to hold on to something that isn't serving me. I just end up spending too much time rehashing, questioning, and getting frustrated by something that doesn't need to be a pivotal part of my life.
These same ideas apply to the positive things in life, too, which is why I think I initially thought, 'well, that stinks', but when I really think about it, it reinforces the reason why I shouldn't let myself get bogged down by the negative or cling to people, places, or things. I should spend every minute or as many as I can appreciating the good people and experiences in my life. I can still engage but I don't have to hook on and hold for dear life. It's a really fine line but as one of my yoga teacher says 'Never give up' but 'Always let go'.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Happy Day!
I received this quote in an email and I just love it. I turned 26 today and everyone keeps asking me if I feel any older. And the truth is, I don't :). I'm just loving the life I'm living.
You are as young as your faith and as old as your doubt.
As young as your self-confidence and as old as your fear.
As young as your hope and as old as your despair.
-Paul Dunn
You are as young as your faith and as old as your doubt.
As young as your self-confidence and as old as your fear.
As young as your hope and as old as your despair.
-Paul Dunn
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Your Drama is your Dharma
Last week I had the opportunity to meet and learn from Tias Little. He was at Moksha presenting Part II of his 200 Hour Teacher Training Program. Our focus was on the fluid body and what is so awesome about Tias is the way he interweaves poetry, philosophy, asana, anatomy, and therapeutics to create a really unique class. On my last day with Tias, we read The Art of Listening, Siddhartha: Govinda. To put it incredibly simply, it's essentially a conversation between Siddhartha and Govinda during which Govinda seeks the answer to how to cultivate peace in his life. It was during the analysis of this story that Tias brought up the phrase, 'your drama is your dharma'. Strangely enough (funny how things work out), I had just finished reading the chapter on dharma in Aadil Palkhivala's, Fire of Love, the night before and I immediately connected with that phrase.
So what does dharma mean? According to Aadil, 'dharma is not what you do, not what you should do, not even what you want to do, but what you were born to do.' In the story of Siddhartha and Govinda, Govinda says '...I have never ceased seeking. I will never cease seeking. That seems to be my destiny.' To which Siddhartha replies, 'what could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.' When I read this part of the essay, I noted in the margins 'this is my problem.' I don't know if you can relate, but I feel like I'm constantly in a state of 'what's next?'. I think it's because I know I want to make a difference, affecting positive change somewhere, but I'm just not certain yet how to do that, or, in other words, I'm not yet certain of my life's purpose or dharma.
The beauty in the phrase your drama is your dharma is the fact that each life event - good and bad - makes up your dharma. It reminds me that every situation we encounter takes us one step closer to understanding our true dharma. We learn from our mistakes, take responsibility for our actions, and act in the most noble way possible when faced with both negative and positive situations.
Your yoga mat is another place to watch your dharma unfold. Both Tias and Aadil stress the importance of the heart center and discovering what lies within. By taking the time at the beginning of the practice to reflect on what's within your heart center and setting an intention, you can take that with you through all of the asanas and then completely lose yourself in your intention and heart center as you rest in savasana. As Aadil says, 'through doing this [practice] patiently and consistently your dharma will inevitably be revealed.'
It most likely will take time and I know it's tempting to seek what it is we're supposed to do with this life but I think there's something to be said about living life in the here and now and appreciating where we are. I'm challenged by these ideas every day, but I'm making a conscious effort to slow down and enjoy everything happening in my life right now and to realize that the good, the bad, and the ugly or, to stick with the theme, the drama in my life is part of my path to finding my own dharma.
I've always loved this quote and I think it's fitting for this post...
'What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.'
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
So what does dharma mean? According to Aadil, 'dharma is not what you do, not what you should do, not even what you want to do, but what you were born to do.' In the story of Siddhartha and Govinda, Govinda says '...I have never ceased seeking. I will never cease seeking. That seems to be my destiny.' To which Siddhartha replies, 'what could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.' When I read this part of the essay, I noted in the margins 'this is my problem.' I don't know if you can relate, but I feel like I'm constantly in a state of 'what's next?'. I think it's because I know I want to make a difference, affecting positive change somewhere, but I'm just not certain yet how to do that, or, in other words, I'm not yet certain of my life's purpose or dharma.
The beauty in the phrase your drama is your dharma is the fact that each life event - good and bad - makes up your dharma. It reminds me that every situation we encounter takes us one step closer to understanding our true dharma. We learn from our mistakes, take responsibility for our actions, and act in the most noble way possible when faced with both negative and positive situations.
Your yoga mat is another place to watch your dharma unfold. Both Tias and Aadil stress the importance of the heart center and discovering what lies within. By taking the time at the beginning of the practice to reflect on what's within your heart center and setting an intention, you can take that with you through all of the asanas and then completely lose yourself in your intention and heart center as you rest in savasana. As Aadil says, 'through doing this [practice] patiently and consistently your dharma will inevitably be revealed.'
It most likely will take time and I know it's tempting to seek what it is we're supposed to do with this life but I think there's something to be said about living life in the here and now and appreciating where we are. I'm challenged by these ideas every day, but I'm making a conscious effort to slow down and enjoy everything happening in my life right now and to realize that the good, the bad, and the ugly or, to stick with the theme, the drama in my life is part of my path to finding my own dharma.
I've always loved this quote and I think it's fitting for this post...
'What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.'
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Monday, April 5, 2010
Abhyasa
Abhyasa is the subject of Yoga Sutra 1.13 which states, ‘Abhyasa or practice means choosing, applying the effort, and doing those actions that bring a stable and tranquil state (sthitau)’. There are actually two types of ‘practices’ addressed in the yoga sutras – abhyasa and sadhana. Abhyasa is a more general practice; whereas sadhana is more specific. According to Swamij.com, ‘[abhyasa] means choosing the wiser of alternative courses of action. It means making decisions on the basis of what will bring greater tranquility or peace of mind’.
When I think of abhyasa and how I apply it to my life, I think of so many different things – the thoughts I have, which then spur the actions I take and words I speak, and the yoga practice I’ve cultivated – and how they all positively or negatively affect my path towards a greater peace of mind.
I find it most difficult to refrain from negative thoughts, actions, and words when I'm driving to and from work. I get really worked up in traffic. It's frustrating to me because I feel like it shouldn't be so hard to control my thoughts and actions but, for some reason, traffic is my trigger. It probably has something to do with the fact that I'd rather be anywhere but my car, especially now that the weather is starting to get nicer, but my challenge is to accept the fact that I have a commute and I shouldn't let it bother me so much.
I've been trying to find ways or practices to calm my thoughts and actions en route to and from the office and I think the most successful have been listening to my favorite talk radio in the morning (they're really hilarious if I actually take the time to listen to what they're saying instead of getting angry with the car in front of me) and then practicing my yoga class plans in my mind in the evening. And when neither of these work, I just take a deep breath and remind myself that getting angry isn't going to help anything so what's the use in getting worked up.
Eventually I hope I can just get in the car and not let traffic bug me so much, but for now, these practices help me to stay centered and calm instead of lashing out at the other drivers on the road, loosing my tranquility of mind.
When I think of abhyasa and how I apply it to my life, I think of so many different things – the thoughts I have, which then spur the actions I take and words I speak, and the yoga practice I’ve cultivated – and how they all positively or negatively affect my path towards a greater peace of mind.
I find it most difficult to refrain from negative thoughts, actions, and words when I'm driving to and from work. I get really worked up in traffic. It's frustrating to me because I feel like it shouldn't be so hard to control my thoughts and actions but, for some reason, traffic is my trigger. It probably has something to do with the fact that I'd rather be anywhere but my car, especially now that the weather is starting to get nicer, but my challenge is to accept the fact that I have a commute and I shouldn't let it bother me so much.
I've been trying to find ways or practices to calm my thoughts and actions en route to and from the office and I think the most successful have been listening to my favorite talk radio in the morning (they're really hilarious if I actually take the time to listen to what they're saying instead of getting angry with the car in front of me) and then practicing my yoga class plans in my mind in the evening. And when neither of these work, I just take a deep breath and remind myself that getting angry isn't going to help anything so what's the use in getting worked up.
Eventually I hope I can just get in the car and not let traffic bug me so much, but for now, these practices help me to stay centered and calm instead of lashing out at the other drivers on the road, loosing my tranquility of mind.
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