Where do we start?

Where do we start? I am supposed to be writing an article on well-being for our office newsletter: and what do I have to offer? Lately, I’ve been feeling like a real charlatan. Talking the talk and crawling the walk. Putting 100% of my energy into worrying about something that is outside of my control/while drinking a floral Fruliano that AJ’s erroneously discounted to $5.99 (Thanks AJ’s!)

I love when AJ’s discounts wine – it makes up for the overpriced gas and produce.

When I find my mental health start to dither, I try to step out of the limelight and limit my words (which I can succeed in doing if I avoid alcohol and social gatherings – but I get pressured into attending the later, so I befriend the prior and then defriend myself). When I am not practicing, I try not to preach. I still get up and salute the heck out of the sun and all the animals and sages and elements – that’s my reality check, my wake-up call, and my morning prayer. I believe in the Ashtanga Asana practice – so I don’t feel so asinine when I teach. I practice and I feel the reverberations in my body – I funnel that experience into my teaching. When I teach, I am not teaching. I am tapping into the lineage of love: Aharona and traditional Ashtanga: Larry Schultz and Marie Russell of the Rocket. I’ve been diluting my classes to make them accessible to the masses/safe to practice in blistering heat. However, recently I had the opportunity to substitute for my mentor: adjusting students in a traditional Mysore practice. At first, I was terrified. I felt clumsy adjusting people in pasana. And lowering and lifting people in karandavasana? Forget about it.

“I can’t do it!” I yelped to my mentor.

“Yes, you can. I believe in you. It will get easier the more you practice.” She encouraged.

And now, I relish the challenge. I’m learning about the practice in a different way: I am more in awe of the human body as I learn to support the weight of others in second series. I feel humbled.

If I could describe my practice right now: it is humbling. I am so grateful for the practice: primary to ground. Second to spark the fire. And recognizing that third series has me questioning my existence. Sometimes I put my feet behind my head and it hits a nerve and spend the rest of the day sensitive as if someone took the shield off from my heart. And mandalasana has me questioning the truth behind everything – I don’t know what is up or down anymore.

My brain has been out of control – it quiets during practice if I breathe loud enough and focus on my bandhas. And then the pain dissipates in the places where emotions have stored – it’s temporary – fixing an emotional problem with a physical solution. You realign your spine- but what got you into that posture in the first place? Are you going to slump or curl like a tattered page the second you roll up your mat?

The elixir wears off. I find myself at the end of the day – depleted. I am not connecting to my source. I am not writing; I am not painting. I view these practices as superfluous: but they are healing rituals that allow me to tap into that meditative space. Spirit is not awoken by movement alone. And there is more to me the fluctuations of my body. I want to learn more about myself – instead of losing myself in the darkness of the ego and drowning in her cloudy water. My thoughts are not real. Larry – if he was here – would tell me to turn off the thinking mind and wake up the feeling body. Not just the body – but the feelings. The openness in my chest/ the lengthening of my spine, the fear in my belly.

I believe in the asana practice. I believe in the traditional Ashtanga and Rocket Yoga. This is what I want to teach, with the occasional restorative class thrown in. I want to teach what I am practicing. I always offer modifications, but I will be tightening up the reigns and sticking to a stricter script.

I practice what I teach, so I reopen my 500-hour manual bittersweetly. I smell the ocean air, sense the sun searing my skin. I’m sitting on the bench outside my room watching the other students mill about. I am on the rooftop palapa: the sun is setting against the sky -to sea- gradients. And it is just me, the mosquitos and this massive emptiness that feels eternally beautiful and alienating like maybe I was never a part of any of it.  

Some of the best days in my life: practicing on that palapa: hand standing on the beach: laughing in the streets of La Punta. The despacho for Larry’s yahrzeit against the fire. Nerding out with people about the Rocket – my favorite thing in the world. Teaching, practicing, and falling in love with the practice.

Transformational breath in the mountains: seeing the path: transformational breath by the sea: parting the reeds and seeing Larry.

It all feels so far away.

I felt my heart blasted open: from anger: from hurt from love.

Betrayal by self and betray by others.

But I am responsible for my own happiness.

I reopen my manual: and it stings my tongue. I feel a little bit lost – like I am always picking up the pieces of myself but never fixing the problems. I feel alone: like I lost a relationship/a yoga family of which I no longer belong. All I have is the practice, my memories and a living guidance that stokes my inner teacher.

People break up and pass on – relationships change form.

Practice what you teach and teach what you practice.

Just like primary series: right leg and then left: from sun salutations until savasana. One foot in front of the other on the mat.

I walk the walk and talk the talk: but I never said it was perfect. Sometimes, you fall out of Durvasana. Sometimes, you pull in your bandhas and stand up proudly for five breaths that nothing feels impossible. Sometimes, I get mad because it is easier than admitting than I fear the future that I cannot control. I fear the future for myself: for my family: for women: for girls: for people of my faith: for people of color.

One foot in front of the other. Right side and then left side.

We do this practice to learn to love ourselves so we can understand how to love others.

Time Capsule

Returning to the blog after a three year hiatus: the ultimate time capsule. When I departed, I was a 30 year-old- full-time office-assistant who taught 6 yoga classes a week (3 of those classes at Hot Elevation Studios). I lived in the Seabright Neighborhood of Santa Cruz with two fabulous housemates. I studied on and off the mat with my two mentors (Aharona in Santa Cruz and Marie in Oaxaca). I was in a long-term romantic relationship.

July 2019

Fast forward three years…

I live on the East-Side of Santa Cruz with a wonderful housemate. I work full-time for a non-profit that I believe in. Additionally, I teach three yoga classes a week at Hot Elevation Studios. Miraculously, I continue to study yoga with Aharona. I am in a healthy, romantic relationship (with a different fellow than before).

This is why my hair is always such a mess (December 2021)

On the surface, things appear pretty similar?

Let me tell you, the last three years have been such a shit show! Well, I probably don’t need to tell you! You lived through the pandemic, the fires, and the floods. You are still living through it.

In June of 2019, I walked away from this blog in a halo of sunshine and splendor. And I return today, more grounded, more grateful, and more patient.

So, what happened in the last three years? Does the surface appear the same, because no change occurred? Or, did I have to endure my own tapas journey to return to where I started?

Here is a abridged version of the past three years (since my hiatus):

1. In October 2019, I ended my long-term relationship and accepted my previous mentor’s offer to work with her in Mexico. From December 1st to March 1st, I lived in the clandestine community of Puerto Escondido.
2. In February 2020, I attended the It’s Yoga International IYI501 and IYI502 Trainings. Upon completing, the IYI501 and IYI502, I garnered enough hours to qualify as an RYT500 with Yoga Alliance.
3. In March 2020, I traveled to California to attend a family trip to the Galapagos.
   1. The boat prematurely evacuated us passengers at 4:00 am due to the sudden arrival of the COVID Pandemic
   2. After two days of flying in circles and sleeping in airports, we returned to California.
   3. Despite leaving a suitcase/unfinished business behind in Mexico, I reluctantly decided to find a new home/job.
4. May 2020, I started working as an office manager at a Watsonville Construction Company. Incidentally, I also started losing my hair.
5. I moved into a beautiful apartment in Capitola with a stunning housemate. Unfortunately, there was a small complication with my roommate’s mental health and I was forced to leave the apartment two weeks later. Out of respect for my housemate, I won’t share what happened. However, I was mildly traumatized.
6. After a week of staying at hotels and Airbnb’s/while trying to work full-time, I moved into my next Capitola Apartment.
7. July 2021, I met my partner (R)
8. November, 2021 I moved into my current house in Soquel that I share with my marvelously talented housemate
9. December 2021 – R and I ventured to Esalen where I deeply reflected and worked on myself (while reading How to do the Work, by Nicole Leperla)
10. January 2022- I left my previous job and began working at my current position at a Local Nonprofit.
11. February 2022: I successfully traveled to Galapagos with my family.

And here we are full circle.

Looking back and rereading my posts reminds me of the ebb and flow that defines my existence.

I’d like to think my vibration elevates over the years.

But isn’t that why we are here?

“Start on your own” – Larry Schultz

Après practicing 3rd series on my 33rd birthday (August 2021).

Realigning the mind off the mat…

There are so many nuggets of wisdom tucked into the Yoga off the Mat course. I only read and took notes on the presentation once. But, do I ever review these notes! Perhaps, the combination of listening and notating engraved the words into my mind. Periodically throughout the day, something clicks me back into place. I return to alignment. Monday, I arrived home and the anxiety hit me like a brick wall. I wanted to do anything to escape it. I turned on the TV, checked out my eyebrows, ate my dinner and fooled around on social media. The anxiety remained, and a strong voice bellowed from my belly. You are enough. You are good enough. You were made to do the work of the creator. Stop wasting your time with this nonsense and go to bed.

So, I put myself to bed. After a short fit from my ego (why does my mind like to plan my life when I seek slumber), I drifted away. Tuesday, after teaching, I badgered myself for missing an important phone call. There is never enough time, I grumbled. My priorities are incredibly distorted. I choose my work over an enlightening phone call. But, I’ve spent lots of time this past month pursuing yoga off the mat/ envisioning a career outside of my “goidin” ways. It’s been blissful to get out there and talk about yoga with those who share this intrinsic passion. But, my paychecks reflect my absence from the desk. I struggle with responsibility. Sometimes, I feel like I spread myself too thin: nourishing nobody. Other times, I pour myself into the practice, into my teaching, into the students and I neglect my earthly responsibilities.

Who am I? I am not my car: I am not my job: I am breath. This morning, I reminded myself that my breath is the most important part of my practice. This is my connection to my spirit, to the elements, to my interpretation of God. I remember that in Hebrew ruach translates to breath and spirit. We all breathe. We all have spirits. Our breath is our divinity: it is a reminder of our connection to the universe.

I want to trust. I want to trust the universe. I replace the fear with faith: the worry with prayers. Ego, this cynical narrator, tries to edge the divine out of my life. She reminds me of all of the times that I have failed. She cites statistics, parental wisdom, and established facts. I want to trust the universe, but what does that look like off the mat? How do you work towards your goal when the path is ambiguous? Sometimes, I feel like I am painting my path with words. There isn’t a compass or a map. And I must confess, I am terrible with directions.

“I trust the universe, but what am I supposed to do in the interim,” I joke to my friend Jae. “Do I say: ok Universe, I trust you to do your magic! Please let me know when you have put me on the right path and ‘fixed my situation.’ In the interim, I will be wrapped up in my red bathrobe sipping on kombucha and watching Netlix.”

In this particular scenario: my hair is wrapped in a perfect towel turban and I am eating chocolate and dates. I think I also have a cat?

My path is not difficult. It is different. Marie quoted this from “A Course in Miracles.” A cuckoo clock should parade this lesson for me every hour. I know what I am supposed to do, because when I teach and write I feel aligned. My ego sits back, and my spirit guides. But, when I step out of the yoga bubble, my purpose looks foolish. It is not foolish; this is my path and my purpose. But, it is different. When I realign with my purpose and live according to it, I feel healthy and connected. My path is not difficult: it is different.

I kept asking the universe for a sign, yet I drew out a roadmap commanding her route. Two months back from a soul recalibration with Marie, there is a beautiful opportunity. Part of me questions: do you really deserve this gift? You need more than this signal to commit to such a peculiar path.

The universe does not share my anxious timetable. The laws of time are a dubious art: sometimes I doubt time is a science. The magic manifests when I slow down, when I lay down in savasana and the earth supports me. The magic manifests when I pursue dedicated work with loving intention. I can download the gifts of the universe when I operate at a level of love: when I treat myself as a child of God. When I view myself as an inherently flawed being, I alienate myself from all that is love. Everyday, I recalibrate. I slow down. I relearn who I am.

What strikes me about Marie: she is so captivating to listen to (even in video). Normally, I fidget during lectures. My mind wanders to fantasies and fears. Yet, I was supernaturally present each time she facilitated circles and off the mat discussions. She speaks so authentically, that I reverberate the truth physiologically. She speaks to the heart in a way that beckons memories of Larry. Memory, time and time again, sitting across the table from Larry: smoking a joint with Larry in a small group. He turns to you, and rips your heart out of your chest- and throws it-still beating-still gushing blood-out on the table. Then, he calmly points out your truths, your fears, and your dharma. He laughs and asks you what are you going to do? I’d never met anyone like Larry before: he shook up and still shakes up my world.

Marie similarly calls me on my issues. She dissects fears and dreams and sometimes I do feel as if my heart is flapping naked in the breeze. Yet, she provides me with the tools to fix myself. She encourages me to commit to a lifetime of healing myself. Marie teaches us to holistically heal so that the heart fits back into our chests with neither incision nor scar tissue. I metamorphosize into who I am supposed to be. In the aftermath, I watch the gunk, the deposits, the malignant thoughts lurk. It’s my path, my shit, my responsibility, and my work. But, we are not meant to be alone in this world. I am so grateful for my teachers. We are teachers, students, friends and family. We are creatures of this earth. We all breathe.

Setting an Intention

Counting the clock….two, three, six more hours left? The minutes move slowly like cars in southbound traffic after five or this gray cloud that is the DMV. Sunlight winks from behind the glass door. That Sun: she can be such a tease… beckoning me with her tantalizing rays! I have seen time bend, fly, and flounder. Weekends zoom past Kyle and I at the speed of light. Contrarily, I have watched minutes multiply akin to how insects must breed. I am painfully aware of every bleach -drunk -second I spend cleaning my bathroom. I know the laws of time dictate what constitutes a minute: a second: a nanosecond. But stick me in a yoga room for an hour and I will swear to you that 60 minutes did not pass? Where did the time go? Did my pigeon pose sweep in and fly away with the extra 5 minutes I promised him? Lies of the temporal terrain!

            What is your intention?

            What caught your attention?

            What do you intend to do, right here? Right now?

            When you are short on time, what do YOU prioritize? Yes, the breath is the most important part of the practice. You need to breathe in a way that supports you…ideally with “ujjayi” or victorious breath. Now, we enter the allergy season/cold/season. You have allowance to breathe through your mouth, especially if you fear the “loogies.” By the time I brief the breath, it is really time to move on if we stick to our clockwork chartering. But, I like students to flavor their adventures. This is the role of “setting an intention.” When I blurt “set an intention” and then move you instantaneously into cat cows….I am preventing myself from babbling into your precious 60 minute class. So here, I confess what I really want to say.

I will extrapolate that setting an intention is not some new- age- mumbo jumbo. In my Mysore, personal practice, I set my intention via singing the classical opening invocation. Thank you Aharona for bringing this back into my life! Singing or chanting opening prayer resonates with my spiritual background and me. However, practicing yoga itself is not a “religious practice” (more on that next week). I interpret this invocation as an opportunity to thank all of the wonderful teachers in my life both living and deceased. I thank the teachers who I have never met and the ones whom I will never meet. I thank the ground beneath me for enabling me to practice with the healthy body. I ask of myself to be patient and loving towards my body and to wade only shallowly in the looming pool of thoughts.

Om Vande Gurunam Charanaravinde Sandarshita Svatma Sukava Bodhe Nih Sreyase Jangalikayamane Samsara Halahala Mohashantyai	I bow to the lotus feet of the Supreme Gurus which awaken insight into the happiness of pure Being, which are the refuge, the jungle physician, which eliminate the delusion caused by the poisonous herb of Samsara.
Abahu Purushakaram Shankhacakrsi Dharinam Sahasra Sirasam Svetam Pranamami Patanjalim Om	I prostrate before the sage Patanjali who has thousands of radiant, white heads and who has, as far as his arms, assumed the form of a man holding a conch shell, a wheel and a sword.

In Forrest Yoga, Ana stipulates the importance of setting an intention no matter how long or how short your class is. She bequests of the teacher to set an open-ended intention for the practice. For example, pick an area in your body that is in pain. What does it feel like? What color can you give it….Subsequently, this selected objective serves as the silver thread for class planning…inspiring not just physical postures and breath-work but also deep energy healing for the practitioner. Although the teacher sets the intention for the group, each individual has a uniquely profound experience.

I adore this concept so much, because it unifies the entire “yoga” experience for the student. So easily, we unroll the mat, sputter some breath, and start flailing limbs around. The teacher says, “ Breathe and relax your neck!” And I think, “bitch get me out of fucking chair pose!” Now, if I had set a proper intention instead of drooling in initial child’s pose or fantasizing about breakfast (always!) my physical and psychological experience might be a little more up lifting?

Because people lack self-care time and solitude, I encourage students to set their own intentions. Maybe today you want to offer gratitude to your teachers and the elements because you want to feel supported, grounded, and worthy of the love you deserve. You don’t deserve to feel lonely. Often there is someone in your life who is hurting, and you have no idea how to help. So you dedicate your practice to them. Maybe you lost your temper, or you snapped at someone you love. There is self-shame and dwelling. Can you bring the love back to yourself and practice the challenging postures with compassion. Finally, perhaps today you feel unspeakable pain or anguish. Getting on the mat is feat enough. Today set an intention to find pleasure… experience your hips open in warrior 2. Your heart shines forward in upward dog. In your final happy baby, you enjoy the lower back release.

I don’t have much time to babble about intention setting during the beginning of class. But, perhaps this is most important part of your practice (aside from savasana, of course). Who are you? Where are you coming from today? What would you like to create or manifest today? Then the breath, the postures, and your celestial nature unify yoked by your humble intention.

In the words of Larry Schultz: “turn in to ‘channel you.’ You are one with yourself. One with the others. And one with your maker…”

Warrior Two!

Virabhadra Ka= the name of a fierce warrior, an incarnation of Shiva, described as having a thousand heads, a thousand eyes, and a thousand feet, wielding a thousand clubs, and wearing a tiger’s skin (Yoga Journal, 2007).

Nothing gets the legs percolating like warrior two! WOWEE! In my personal practice, we meet usually only twice a week during primary series. Five deep breathes and I am eager to part ways! However, warrior two is the cool kid here at Hot Elevation Studios. When I attend power yoga classes, I find myself holding this posture indefinitely. During this infinity, there is time to reflect on alignment. An insightful, incriminating mirror prompts me to readjust my posture. Careful, the reflection might manifest a murky rendition of the truth! Can I comfortably bend my front knee so the shin is perpendicular to the floor? Do my legs feel fatigued or am I lazy?

With breath, I draw the awareness scan up my body. Inevitably, my reflection cues me to tuck my tail bone down and pull my belly into the spine. Spine relinquishes its preferred backbend craving of a shape and abdominal energy lock is ignited. Stretch out the arms sideways as if two people are pulling you from different ends (Iyengar 1966). Gaze forward with a relaxed jaw. Use the mirror as a prop- an extension of your third eye. Remove fixation and draw attention back to breath. Feel strength in lower body and euphoric lightness as the torso stretches skyward and the arms search for the corners of the earth.

Per BKS Iyenger, this posture relieves cramps in calf and thigh muscles and brings elasticity to the leg and back muscles (Iyengar, 1966). Abdominal organs are also toned. Score! Warrior two is an integral part of Forrest Yoga. When I attended the Forrest Training in 2017, I came from an Ashtanga Background. In Ashtanga, Warrior One inspires the 3-5 sun salutation B warm-up and warrior 2 is a quick affair (depending on how long your teacher counts to five breaths. I tell you, some teachers are sadists!) Contrarily, Ana Forrest will conduct a 3-posture vignette entirely in warrior two stance! And rarely was there one such vignette! The warrior two stretches the psoas, hip flexors and groin and relieves back pain.

Warrior Two is a classic, “basic” posture. Going back to basics however does not mean imply stepping off the brave-hearted path. Sometimes the basic moves never get “easier.” Every time you practice this powerful posture; you have a unique opportunity to check in with your alignment. Can you bend your front knee in line with your heal? Can you enlist Uddiyana Bandha- a collection of muscles concentrated in your core? Can you reach your arms firmly to the expanses of the universe while maintaining soft shoulders? You can look down, if that feels better for your neck.

I often see students flail arms about which affects the tenacity of the posture. Keep your shoulders over your hips, and try not to lean too far back or gravitate too enthusiastically forward. I often hear teachers quip, “imagine two kids were pulling your arms in two different directions.” I thought this was a catchy cue, until I realized it was a little inappropriate. I don’t have kids, so I probably can’t relate to the sensation of my two fake spawn pulling my arms! It is not a suitable metaphor for Me. Me, Miss Excuse me, miss? Where are you going on why?

Where are you going and why? Warrior two is an opportunity to surpass your echo’s prophesies. The battlefields of the past have toned your legs and brought depth to your eye-lit field. Reach with joy into your horizon: incandescent, boundless, possibilities.

Warrior 2….when I was 24 or 25 🙂

 

Warrior 2 Virabadrasana Ka

References:

1. YJ editors. (2007, 08/25) Warrior Two Pose. https://www.yogajournal.com/poses/warrior-ii-pose
2. Inyengar, B.K.S “Light on Yoga.” New York: Schocken Books. 1966.