SUP? NOPE.

Oooo....chilly morning.  I've got two layers of long sleeves on and some woolen socks.  While September in the PNW can be gorgeous, we can all tell summer is waning here in late August.  Morning fog, earlier dusk, gardens winding down, even some leaves turning from green to golden.

Which reminds me, again this year I forgot to do any Stand-Up Paddleboard Yoga.  "Forgot" maybe isn't the right word....I'm NEVER going to do SUP Yoga!

I am an evolved land-dwelling human who has left her gills eons behind.  I see no reason to ever put myself in a situation where my face might have to meet the water.  This interferes with normal human lung breathing.  I like normal human lung breathing.  I like it so much that any memories of childhood swim lessons where I had to actually put my face in the water, put my whole head under the surface (!) and on one occasion had to be embarrassingly fished out of the water with a "lifesaver hook" at the YWCA, as I panicked and flailed in the deep end, is mostly banished from memory.

I know SUP Yoga is currently all the rage.  I see the lovely photos of people (women mostly) doing all manner of yoga maneuvers atop a SUP on brilliantly blue sky days at the lake.  As an "idea" this is great fun.  In reality, um, no.  I also have to wonder if all those perfectly framed photographs are photo-shopped.  That board is really sitting on your rec room floor, isn't it?  Very clever!

HaHa.  Just kidding.  I actually know teachers who do this for real and students who follow their lead.  The photo with this post is of Carly who used to teach at YCS.  She's great; I loved her classes. I also know current YCS teacher and my Yoga Teacher Training instructor, Elizabeth, does SUP.  She even brought her SUP to our teacher training retreat at Diablo Lake in case any of us wanted to try it...in Diablo Lake's 44 degree glacial melt waters.  No takers.

I guess like surfing and swimming this is fun for some.  If they take a spill off the board, they come up laughing, hair slicked back perfectly, face aglow, like some beautiful yoga mermaid ready to hop back on and do it again.  I can accurately predict I'd come up spewing water and spittle, hair crisscrossing my face, over my eyes, blinding me, and leaving me looking like a shaggy dog, likely crying, hyperventilating, and begging someone to get me to shore, NOW, where I'd sit berating myself for being such a yoga dud and hating how I look in a swimsuit.  I have no need to put myself in that situation.

In fairness to my attempts to be an adventurer, I tried to be on a SUP one time -- not even doing yoga!  Just sitting there.  My atheletic husband loves to ride his SUP.  He has an inflatable one that, once blown up with his super duper battery powered air pump, is rigid and sturdy.  He actually lugs this 50 pound toy to Hawaii every year (deflated in its carry bag) and paddles around the bay and rides the waves in front of our condo unit.

Last trip he suggested that it might be fun to take it to the river and I could sit in front of him while he paddled us upriver.  He suggested this for about two weeks of our 2-1/2 week stay and finally I relented.  Snuggly tucked into my life vest, I took my seat and immediately noticed the unbalanced nature of us tipping back and forth on the surface.  I white knuckled my not moving Staff Pose as he tried to find a way to keep us upright.  Having another person on the board was a learning curve situation for him.  Then he started to paddle, periodically bonking me in the head with the oar as he swung the paddle from side to side.  The wind picked up; it was hard to make forward progress, and not fun for either of us.  After about 30 minutes he suggested we turn back....which is just about unheard of.  He never bails on anything.  I was relieved.  And while I didn't get thrown off, neither did I have much fun.

Yes, I'm a water dud...with the exception of kayaking which for some reason I really enjoy.  I am close to, but not in the water.  I choose sunny days, with glassy calm 'seas'; I don my life vest, and paddle away assuming no disasters will befall me.  Could be wishful thinking and could be deemed inconsistent with my fears.  Go figure.  It works for me.

I wonder if Kayak Yoga is a thing?  Nah....methinks best to stay seated.  But if you try it, let me know how it goes.

Namaste, donnajurene

Photo Credit:  From Carly's FB page: Catalyst Yoga

TEARS IN MY EARS

You may have noticed the subtitle of this blog; it goes like this:  "My blissful experience with a yoga practice...also falling down, crying, laughing, and sleeping in class".

I've done all those things -- falling out of poses, laughing with joy, sleeping during Savasana.  And crying...not often, but sometimes.  Not recently, until yesterday.

I'm having challenging year with a family life situation that seems to have come out of the blue, but has been brewing, apparently.  It's hard.  Relationships are hard.  Loving is hard.  I've got a big tool box full of personal growth and spiritual growth tools and I've tried to use the ones best suited to this job, but I've got a call in to get a "refresher" from the tool guru--my therapist.  I did not anticipate finding myself in this spot now.  Part of the challenge is the shock.

I have not done a yoga practice since my Yoga Teacher Training Graduation on July 31.  I've let that tool lie dormant as I went away on a trip, then came home to a week of grandchild care.  I told myself I'd do a home practice with an online teacher, but I didn't motivate myself to do it.

Yesterday I made myself go to the studio.  I hesitated, again, because Saturday classes tend to be super crowded and the last thing I wanted was to socialize.  Depression is not friendly and chatty.  So I got there really early, waited just outside the door to the inner space until the previous class finished, and then dashed in to claim a place as far away from everyone else as possible -- in the back corner near the restroom.

I saw friends across the room and felt the warmth of connection just knowing they were there, but not talking to them.  I heard Elizabeth's familiar voice, instructing as she always does to begin lying down, following the breath, letting thoughts go, being in the moment.

Then the floodgates opened.  I cried lying there, tears of sorrow, and grief, and fear, and relief.  I just let it happen as I heard her quiet cadences nurturing me.   I cried and cried until I began to feel the tears rolling back along my upper cheeks and pooling in my ears.  Then I chuckled to myself.  It was funny, that I was making a pond of tears in my outer ears.  I had to grab a tissue and sop out the salty sea.

We went on with our practice.  I kept my mind focused, my eyes closed, my energy extending no further than the confines of my mat.  I cried.  And I felt safe: the studio so artistically beautiful, a nurturing space so familiar to me, a teacher I admire and trust, and teacher training friends across the room to give me silent support they didn't even know they were lending just by being there.

We come to the mat some days feeling strong and balanced.  We come to the mat some days feeling joyful and energetic.  We come to the mat some days feeling like the mat is the only thing saving us from despair.  We come to the mat with all of our self -- the True Self that observes, and the very human, egoic self that is caught in the human condition.

It's all OK.  It's all welcome.  Come cry with me.  ©
Namaste, donnajurene