YOGA IS LIFE

A friend recently asked me, "So what is it about yoga that draws you back, over and over, to the practice?"  I paused...then just started talking, as I often do when processing my thoughts out loud.  Here's sort of a summary of what I came up with.  I wonder if you can relate?

In Western culture yoga is all about the pose, the physical performance of a body trick; about "exercising" and changing the shape of one's body (yoga butt!).  It's about finding flexibility and strength and at a certain age, hoping yoga will stave off the aches and pains that threaten to slow us down.  These are incredibly worthy goals and I had the same when I started to come to yoga classes a little over a decade ago.  

What I've come to realize since then is that for me, yoga combines so many of the things I have explored in separate spiritual practices:

I once worked with a yoga/meditation teacher who led our little Sangha in occasional explorations of Pranayama -- intentional breathing techniques designed to elicit various responses from the nervous system.

A different meditation teacher taught me to meditate using a Sanskrit mantra to focus my mind, it being based on some elaborate and to me undecipherable interpretation of my birth moment in Vedic Astrology.  I like my mantra and I still use it.  I've also studied Mindfulness Based Meditation to calm my anxious nature.

I was drawn like a groupie to a rock band when I first heard a recording of Kirtan.  I found the experience of chanting to the Divine (in Hindu tradition) to be exhilarating and deeply moving.  I've gone to workshops, concerts, living room Kirtans, and taken a course of study called "Sound School".  I still absolutely love Kirtan and have favorite Kirtan artists.

I've been a lifelong seeker of knowledge about the inner workings of my mind and heart and curious about how my life experiences inform the decisions I make on a daily basis.  I've been deeply involved with Jungian-based personal growth work, both as a participant and a facilitator.

All of these practices twisted and twirled around each other, at times one being more prominent in my life than another, but "there" nonetheless.

When I deepened my understanding of Yoga by taking teacher training, I discovered I've spent my adult life preparing to find integration of my spiritual and psychological searching within yoga.

The Eight Limbs of Yoga incorporate all of it.  Each limb is distinct, yet cannot truly stand alone if one is a dedicated yogi/yogini.  They are practiced simultaneously and one informs the other in a dance of completion.

The Eight Limbs:

Yamas -- Universal Moral Constraints: how we interact with the world around us (the most well known of these is to practice non-violence)

Niyamas -- Personal Observances: how we live our lives with integrity and spirit

Asana -- Postures: the poses we are so familiar with, to help our bodies ready for meditation

Pranayama -- Mindful Breathing: controlling the breath for a certain effect

Pratyahara -- Turning Inward:  withdrawing the senses to attend only to the present moment (eyes closed)

Dharana -- Concentration:  focusing attention, perhaps on the breath, a mantra, a candle, an image; to prepare for meditation

Dhyana -- Meditation:  a merging with the object of concentration such that one feels completely relaxed and at ease, no longer engaging in the Monkey Mind of the physical Ego self

Samadhi -- Union of the Self with the Object of Meditation; the Seeker become the Seer -- merging with higher consciousness without Ego; finite becomes infinite (some see this as the final passing of the physical mind/body; some as the ability of Enlightened Beings to completely and simultaneously inhabit two worlds -- the physical and the spiritual)

For me, the first seven limbs are achievable with practice, the eighth seems, at this point, to be in Guru territory for sure.  But yoga doesn't set any one above another.  We are all one -- manifestations of Universal Consciousness.  

And if your belief system finds that kind of talk a little weird or wrong, that's OK.  As one of my favorite Kirtan artists reminds her widely varied audiences, "We're not trying to convert anybody here"... She says the mantra/music/chant just gives us a place to rest our weary minds.  

For example, through Kirtan or chanting (Dharana) we might find we prefer our eyes closed (Pratyahara), and in so doing, find moments of deep peace (Meditation).  Our (Asana)-toned bodies will be strong and supple for sitting while enjoying the experience.  The singing chant will naturally demand that our exhale is longer than our inhale (Pranayama) as we sing out, thus relaxing the nervous system.  The words and music may become so much our focus that all else falls away (Dhyana).  And all of this will encourage a loving, giving, compassionate re-entry into the physical world as we interact with others (Yamas) and continue to know and nurture ourselves (Niyamas).  And with enough practice, I trust that Samadhi awaits as well.

Why yoga?  Because, for me... Yoga is Life.

Namaste, donnajurene

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

FORT COMFORT

At Yoga Teacher Training this month we spent a day learning about "restoratives".  These are poses which basically involve lying down on pillows and being covered in blankets.  I know what you're thinking..."My kind of yoga!"  Well, of course.  That's the point.

We all live in a hustle and bustle world and even if we never leave the house, that hustle/bustle brain just keeps spinning tales of memories, regrets, to do lists, worries, plans...ARRRGGGHHHH!  Make it stop!

Restorative poses are designed to "make it stop".  The goal of yoga, after all, is to calm the fluctuations of the mind.  We get our bodies in good working order through asana practice so that they are not obstacles to meditation.   Also, BONUS!, while in the midst of asana practice we put our attention on acquiring the pose, which already slows down the constant whirl of the thinking mind.

We get a mini restorative practice at the end of every class, as we settle into Savasana.  We might put a blanket under our heads, an eye pillow over our eyes, prop our legs over a bolster, cover up with another blanket...and get as comfortable as possible for 10 minutes.  It's not perfect, but it's pretty great, right?

Well, there are actually practices of only restorative poses!  Usually only 4-5 poses in a whole class, because moving from one to the next requires gathering up enough props to start your own studio, then erecting quite the Barcalounger effect.  The rule is "no hanging limbs", meaning every square inch of you should be supported in the greatest degree of comfort possible.  This is accomplished differently for everyone, but as a teacher we are to assess how a person's body is lying there and then scurry about finding the appropriate bolster, blanket, block, sandbag, eye pillow -- often multiples of each -- to ensure our practitioner has achieved maximum comfort.  Even if they say they feel fine, we are to continue to offer accommodations until the moment of pure Nirvana is reached.

Some of my sister yoginis in teacher training excel in this -- both as a teacher and as a practitioner.  I watched in awe as they created nests of absolute beauty, building a veritable Comfort Fort around their charge.   It was an image to behold (sorry I didn't take photos!).  And many seemed to sink into this experience with complete ease and appreciation.

As luck would have it, my final partner and I sort of sucked at this exercise.  We understood the theory behind it and we could support each hanging limb with the best of them.  We just didn't groove on the whole thing.  We both sort of chuckled and felt glad we'd partnered up because our motto became "good enough" when either being the teacher or the student in our pair.  We both agreed that a mountain of props feels "clutter-y" to us as a teacher and a bit claustrophobic as a practitioner.  We never totally achieved bliss.  We were glad not to be the frustrating partner of a classmate who was totally into it.

As is true of every aspect of yoga, we do what is right for us, finding our edge and settling into the pose that fits for our bodies.  This is one I'm still destined to find.

I hope my certification isn't in jeopardy from this admission. Test me on it!  I can do it well enough I think and my student will find a peaceful repose and come away refreshed and restored. 

As for me, I'll have a lot of props to put away as I dismantle the fort.

Namaste, donnajurene

Photo Credit:  Image via life.dailyburn.com

THE THIGH BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE KNEE BONE?

I have three photos of the inside of my husband's knee on my phone!  This is like a goldmine of personal information about anatomy of the knee joint.  So. Much. Fun!  I'd show you those instead of this diagram, but the surgeon who texted me the pix warned they might not be to everyone's liking.  I've learned that some people do look a bit green around the gills and need to look away when they see the muscles and tendons pulled away and the bones exposed, ends cut off of parts of the tibia and femur and the patella moved aside, to make room for placing the new joint.  My husband had total knee replacement surgery two weeks ago -- an old college football injury finally caught up with him and was interfering with his snowboarding obsession, hence: surgery.

I think the insides of people look a lot like the insides of any animal.  Bone, muscle, tendon, fascia, blood.  Chop up a whole chicken into parts -- you'll see something similar.  Seeing the photos reminded me of my husband's medical school years when we'd meet for lunch in the anatomy lab and I'd munch on my PBJ sandwich while quizzing him on anatomy as he poked around in his assigned cadaver.  This sounds weird and gross and it was, in retrospect, but at the time it was a normal part of our lives.  (I assure you, we were very respectful and appreciative of this person who ended up the object of a med. student's attentions; what a gift to science.)

In yoga teacher training our instructor has shared stories of her own experience with having the opportunity to do cadaver dissection.  She has advanced training in yoga therapy and her knowledge of how the skeleton, muscles, tendons, and facia interact is immense.  She is doing her best to teach us a rudimentary understanding, at the very least, of what is happening inside the body when we move through our asana practice on the mat.

I admit that of my teacher training texts the anatomy book is, to me, like reading a foreign language.  I am lost and have to go over and over the assigned reading, including getting tutoring from my husband.  But what I have learned is that every move we make, the way we hold our bodies, the way injuries and maladies impact our bodies has a profound effect on how we live and move.  I love learning that yoga therapy can help address and correct many of the misalignments we have habitually formed in our bodies.

I know so much in fact, that in sitting in on my husband's post-op home physical therapy sessions I was able to speak with a modicum of knowledge about how I felt he was "compensating" by raising his hip to get his knee flexed and elevated.  I even threw out the term PNF (proprioceptive neuromuscular facilitation) as if I was intimately familiar with the therapeutic benefits of such an approach to muscle strengthening (instead of having heard of it for the first time only a few months ago.)  I realized that in spite of my overwhelm when pouring over my anatomy text, I'm actually learning a few things that are helpful.

What does all this have to do with YOU?  I just want to point out that yoga instructors who are well trained and knowledgable don't just pick out a pose from a list of cool pretezel-y body tricks; there is a reason for what they offer in class and how one pose should follow the next in a logical, body-friendly sequence.  They are aware of the internal workings of your body, the ways in which to best address your shoulder stiffness, your sore lower back, your tight hamstrings.  It may all seem random, but when done well, it's most definitely rooted in anatomical knowledge and expertise.

And good yoga teachers keep learning and growing in their professions.  I know I will need to keep up my anatomy studies to become as proficient and knowledgeable as I want to be.  That's OK.  I have some great photos to study right here on my iPhone.

Namaste,  donnajurene

OBSERVING OBSTACLES

As is so often true, I have to eat my words.

I have a habit of complaining about my resort yoga experiences -- those times when on vacation I decide to take a yoga class at the hotel or resort where we are staying.  They have mostly been disappointing experiences.

I recently returned from a trip to the Southeast visiting friends and family in Georgia and South Carolina.  We spent 5 days at a beachfront resort on Hilton Head -- a lovely barrier island about 2 hours from Charleston, primarily developed to appeal to golfers and beach goers.  It's a little "Stepford-y" for me -- too planned and too perfect.  Still, the place we stayed was lovely and the beach and warm Atlantic waters were heavenly.

One morning, I rallied at 7:30 a.m. for the Yoga at the Beach class, with low expectations.  Walking to the meeting place, I was sure:  A) I'd be the only person to show up, cuz really who gets up so early and out the door at that hour while vacationing?  B)  If there were other people there, they'd be  20 years old and wearing skimpy bikinis to show off their rockin' yoga bods;  C) The instructor would be the usual yoga robot, auto-piloting her way through the class with little enthusiasm.

I always get into trouble when I pre-judge.  A) There were 24 people at the class; B) Most were in the 40-70 ish category and almost all wore yoga pants or shorts and baggy T-shirts, like me (zero bikinis); C) The teacher was great!

And now that I am nearing the end of my 200 hour yoga teacher training, I know what makes a great teacher.  LOL  Well, I know how better to discern some things.  Still clueless about others, no doubt.  I loved how open and authentic she was and genuinely friendly and happy to see us.  She led us through a "beginner" class, assuring us that there would be a way for everyone to participate, no matter the level we were on.  One pose followed the next logically with attention to sequencing smoothly and safely and she offered modifications for the more challenging poses.  Her instruction was clear and precise and she actually seemed to be enjoying teaching.  The only critique I had was that she was hard to hear -- over the sound of the waves, the wind, and the calling gulls.  Rough duty!

I like her so much that when I found out she was the activities director and also taught the pool aerobics class, I went the next day.  What a kick!  Again, she was fun, funny, enthusiastic, and seemed to love her job.  There were about 20 of us -- this time in the age range of 50-80 I'd say, and we all had a blast splashing about together.  

In yoga philosophy, the true purpose of yoga is to be present in each moment, as the observer not attached to the experiences that come and go in life, to sit firmly in the seat of the true self unbound by human constructs.  But there is also the idea that we carry around a big bag of very human life experiences that shape how we view the world; these experiences, thoughts, feelings, etc. cause obstacles to our remaining in the seat of the true self as that observer.  These obstacles, as described in the Yoga Sutras are called our Kleshas.  

The Kleshas that cause us to stumble along the path (very simply defined) are:  

Avidya (ignorance) meaning having a cloudy perception of what is real based on pre-conceived ideas

Asmita (false identity or ego) meaning who we believe ourselves to be often shadows and shapes how we respond to life circumstances

Raga (attachment) meaning our tendency to grasp at repeating positive experiences

Dvesha (aversion) meaning our tendency to avoid repeating any negative experiences

Abhinisvesha (fear) meaning ultimately the fear of annihilation or death and how this limits us

So, what's the lesson here?  Ahhh.....as always what we learn in yoga is that there is only this moment.  There is no past.  All those negative resort yoga experiences are over and done and only still exist as a function of memory -- not real in the moment -- so pre-judging was a form of avoiding a negative experience, or at least steeling myself for another one.  My Dvesha (aversion) Klesha was up and active.  Likewise, assuming that only positive experiences await now that I've had one, is clinging to a future that also does not exist and any grasping I do to ensure I can repeat that positive yoga experience is for naught.  The Raga (attachment) Klesha is already whispering in my ear.  

When we are aware of our thoughts, emotions, and motivations and how they can influence and limit us, we can stop, breathe, find our calm center at the seat of true self and move forward into a present moment that is free from emotional drama.  

Easy, right?!?  Of course not....which is why we call yoga a practice.  Keep it up!

Namaste,  donnajurene

Photo:  Early arrivals for Yoga at the Beach class