The Wandering Yogini

Life’s journeys can be like grapevines, twisting around each other, some ending, while others can seemingly twist into eternity. This metaphor is true for my many journeys, so much so, that sometimes I find it difficult to differentiate between them. Which came first? Which am I on? Which have ended? These many journeys are so closely intertwined, they compose one solid branch that is the core of my existence. So, as we’ve all question; what came first the chicken or the egg, I too question what came first the yoga or the travel?



For majority of the time I am convinced that the travel came first; but then again, I think back to my childhood and vaguely remember singing to the trees—if this isn’t a form of yoga, I just don’t know what is. My first “real” yoga class took place in Maui; but I remember sitting in prayer in my hotel room in Costa Rica before that, and before that I recall falling into meditation in the temples outside of Tokyo. These are all forms of yoga, which are so deeply intertwined with my love of travel, almost as if the two go hand in hand. I can’t fly without practicing pranayama breathing, or practicing an asana at the back of the plane. And even when I have absolutely no intention of practicing my practice seems to find me (see image attached to blog post: http://freeyogini.blogspot.com/2008/04/bend-it-through-bikram.html) as during a hike in the south of France I found my “OM”.

It’s the most powerful moment when that realization hits you that this practice is one of the core threads in your life. It changes you…it’s changed me. Which is why I’ve become the wandering yogini.

Down Dog Dilemma

Since last Saturday I’ve been thinking about my Downward Facing Dog, my sad, slippery, down dog.

According to Yoga Journal, Adho Mukha Svanasana is one of the most widely recognized yoga poses. It is supposed to stretch the shoulders, legs, and spine; strengthen throughout the entire body; remove fatigue; increase blood flow to the sinuses; calm the mind, lift the spirits, and improve digestion.

In my practice, all I feel is blood rushing to my face and head, my hands slipping on my mat, and the heel of my hands pressing (uncomfortably) into the floor. I attempt to stabilize, but find myself swaying side-to-side. Where is my balance in this “not so resting” pose?

This morning, all of the sudden, I had one of those “Ah ha!” moments. Again, I am reminded of my lesson in human anatomy. I’ve realized that my elbows hyperextend, which is probably resulting in this loss of balance, and worse yet, puts unnecessary tension and pressure in my joints.

I am mentally forcing myself to be more aware of my body in this posture. I think about it, visualize it, and practice it daily.

And then comes this: An emailed picture of “Sofie’s Perfect Down Dog.” Sofie, a friend’s Lab, so perfectly arches her back and stretches out. She looks so relaxed and happy. I’m learning from her; striving to find this sort of blissful sensation in my own down dog!

Face to Floor

I don’t know if it’s because I wore yoga clothes to work today, or because I touched my head to the ground in Separate Leg Stretching, or because the sun was out and shining beautifully; whatever the reason, I am radiating happiness. I feel this sense of pure joy washing over me. I stretch my arms behind my back and smile. I inhale “OM” and attempt to lock my knees. Everyday I find my practice improving and here, finally, my forehead reaches the ground. I still have work to do…but wow “face to floor” OM.

Stretching On Cloud Nine: Lessons Learned

We are a broken bunch, we 7, we come with car accidents, broken necks, scars, and sorrow. We sit, backs straight, lips curled up towards our ears, sans judgment. We meet in this sacred place—called our bodies, in this sacred time—called life. We lay down any notion of what it is that we think we know, any idea of who it is that we think we are; we set all this aside and come with hearts open…to learn. We come as students to discover the essence of this 5,000-year-old art form that literally means “to yoke” or “to bring together”; yoga.

We are seven students and four teachers—essential strangers to each other’s pasts—squeezed into a tiny room on the 10th floor of the Pacific Tower in Huntington Beach. We stagger our mats for our first asana intensive, which starts with a two-hour practice.

It’d be a lie to say this class was easy, in fact it was anything but: With intensity and intention we moved, nonetheless, to the rhythm of our collective breaths. I could feel the perspiration on my face, hands, and feet. I struggled to stay in Downdog, a supposed “resting” position, praying that I wouldn’t slip right out of it and onto the student in front of me.

In these first two hours I battled with fear, little inadequacies. Why won’t my hips open, or my hands stop slipping? These little voices in my head were quickly silenced during our first anatomy lecture.

I learned: In absolutely no way is one person exactly the same as another; so how unfair is it to compare oneself to anyone else; human composition is so truly unique. This is such a profound yet simple lesson; and yet I find myself doing this in both my practice and in my daily-life. Where is the fruit in this? I can’t seem to find any. So, I’m actively attempting to correct this learned behavior. If I look, I love. It’s amazing how much this self-adjustment can change one from the inside out.

Laugh and Be Free

We took a drive up the coast, pulled into the state beach, and set up camp. Cell phones went off—or on silent anyway—tents went up, and the kayak hit the water. The blue waters and glowing sunset illuminated our campsite. Responsibility and stress melted right off my back. My sister and I laughed, and laughed. We laughed when we squished ourselves into a one-person kayak and nearly tipped it over. We laughed while practicing yoga on the beach and getting splashed by a mini “sneaker” wave. We laughed when setting up our campsite—something I haven’t done since childhood. It was a laugh-fest weekend, mixed with wine tasting, braving cold waters, and soaking up some much needed rays. It was relaxing and refreshing, but I found my true mediation, my true peace, in laughter. It was my “yoga” of choice for the weekend; it was almost like being a child again: Being okay with looking silly and doing headstands in the sand, running on the beach like a wild child, and just being free in general. This is something that escapes us in adulthood so frequently.

There is this picture in my Grandmother’s house that I love to look at. It’s of myself as a toe-head little girl running on the beach. I don’t really remember that day, but I remember the feeling of being “free like a child.” I hold onto how happy it makes me feel every time my Grandma tells me about that day. It’s a return to the core of who I truly am; that girl that sings about trees, the girl that runs and giggles on the beach. We can’t allow this freedom to escape us. Yes, there is responsibility in adulthood, yes we all have obligations, yes sometimes we are just downright too busy and too tired to embrace this freedom, but try to find it, or better yet just allow it to find you, and when it does laugh and be free. …Or just do Happy Baby Pose until you become a happy baby!

Love, Peace, and Namaste.




Stacey in Standing Bow Pulling Pose Dandayamana Dhanurasana

Existential

Heat and light make for relaxed and stretched muscles, and glowing hot photography!

Thought of the Day: Footwear

It’s been a little over a year since I purchased my first pair of Toms shoes; the red canvas ones. They are slowly beginning to show wear—the soles deteriorating, which is probably more my fault than anything as I tend to drag my feet a bit when wearing flat shoes.
One year in and they are a perfect fit, completely molded to my feet. After work, or any other high-heeled day, I throw off the sling-backs and slip on the Toms. They don’t really match with anything in my wardrobe, but I’m willing to clash knowing that just the very act of wearing these shoes inspires. I can’t think of one time that while pounding the pavement that I haven’t been stopped and asked about my funny looking slippers. “Are those TOMS?” they ask with a genuine nod of approval. “Why yes they are… and did you know that for every pair that is purchased another pair is given to a child in need?”
In fact, since Tom's conception in 2006 more than 50,000 pairs of shoes have been donated to children in South Africa.
Just think buying one pair of shoes is gifting a child with a pair of shoes. What a great way to give back. So, pass it forward. www.tomeshoes.com

photo credit: tomshoes.com

Like Breath for Water

It wasn’t until 70 minutes into my 90-minute practice that I realized I hadn’t sipped from my water more than twice. Ten minutes into the floor series and I hadn’t taken any of the opportunities to partake in the wetting of my lips. Well, technically they (my lips) were already wet…with sweat. I was dripping head to toe, and actually wasn’t really aware of it. I wasn’t really aware of anything. Yes, I slid and floated from posture to posture with the class, I even adjusted according to my instructor’s direction, but I never reached for my water bottle.

I was there, completely present in the moment, and yet so completely far away. I was focused on one thing and one thing only: the rhythm of my breath. I sucked air in deep through my nose and slowly allowed it to make its way out.

Inhale; lift up into locus pose; 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, exhale, release.

This steady in and out of my breath sustained me. I felt solid like a tree and yet was limber like a noodle. I had command of my postures rather than my postures having command over me. It’s been weeks since I’ve felt that sort of release. My breath became the controlling factor in my practice. It dictated and spoke to my muscles; it told my stomach to tighten, my legs to lock; my arms to relax. My breath washed through me. It hydrated my organs and bones; it loosened the tightness in my back and released the furrow on my brow. It felt the day, no the week (and actually the week before it) fall off of me. It was such a peaceful release that I felt my eyes well up.

As my practice approached its end I felt fatigue hit, I began to succumb but my breath fought and won the battle. I finished my practice a new person, with a new body. I felt energized and peaceful. Even now, as I sit up in my bed three hours past my “bed time” I feel sustained, productive, and clear of mind. It’s this connection to the breath that energizes our lives, a connection that, when realize, is more powerful than sleep, and more hydrating than water.

LET IT GO

“You’re a yogini now.” A yogini: The female origin of a practicing male yogi; having a steadfast mind cultivated by the disciplined pursuit of transcendence through Yoga—or at least that’s what Wikipedia said. The definition is correct in that I am female, and yes I’m attempting to be disciplined with Yoga, or anything in my life for that matter, but what is this pursuit of transcendence? And is my mind steadfast?
In my daily practice I am always met with variations of distractions:

“Did I pay my phone bill?” “No. Now let that thought go.”

“What should I eat for dinner?” “Pasta. Now let that thought go.”

“I wish I could get my leg up a little higher.” “In time. Now let that thought go.”

My former instructor, Erika, would always say during our short sessions to acknowledge our thoughts and then let them go. But some days I feel bombarded with these pestering and unimportant questions. They attack me in my moments of silence just like they used to attack me before sleep. I don’t want to be that bad “put it off until tomorrow” person. I want to do today what I can do tomorrow, and more. But as a friend said to me today, “Step 1 before Step 5.”

This is truth. We must master our concentration to focus on the current, to focus on what is important, and what is true is this moment. It is not until we focus on our now that we will begin to live back in the today.

Tomorrow is a beautiful imaginary place that we will never reach. So find your today and master it. Be the owner of your todays, everyday. With this peace and mastery there will be no room for yesterdays regrets or tomorrows wishes. You will become the owner of your thoughts and the silence in your practice. What a beautiful place that is.

Love and Namaste.

SOUND OF BREATHING

It went from hot to cold over night. The change in weather drained me. Out of nowhere I’m lethargic and tired. Disciplined I pull my yoga top over my head. I fight with the straps and spandex. For a moment it overtakes me. I succumb to the strength that is 90% Supplex and 10% Lycra. I exhale and with my inhale I give it one final pull, and AH, I’m dressed. Victory is mine! I put my layers on and head to class. I’m still drained from my clothing battle. I want to stick it out and go for the 90 minute session…my mind is in it, but my body is just not there. I stretch and make the mistake of giving myself time to think. Maybe I just want to practice alone today. Yes, I want to practice alone…I want to do Camel in the privacy of my bedroom, I want to stand on my head and fall over with no one watching, I want to pray out loud, I want to light candles, and I want to listen to the sound of nothing but my own breathing.

Love and Namaste