WWSAMTD (what would shakespeare and mark twain do?)

Well, I’m off on vacation.  Shakespeare said “wherever you go, there you are”.  It was either Shakespeare who said that or Mark Twain, one of the two.  Those guys always had something to say about everything.  Which is as it should be*.

It’s good to speak up. Let people know what you think.  Your ideas are just as good as the next guy’s (unless the next guy is Shakespeare or Twain, in which case just go ahead and keep your mouth shut).  Too often we worry about speaking our minds; will we sound foolish? will we offend? are we smart enough?

The other day I was having a nice conversation when suddenly the whole thing took a sharp turn for the worse. A “controversial” issue came up.  Disaster was about to strike – we disagreed, were on opposite sides of the fence, had a parting of the minds, were not on common ground.  This wasn’t just any controversial issue, it was a really important one, or at least I think so.  I wanted to jump in, challenge her view, ask her to consider adding another perspective, delve a little deeper.  But I just let the moment pass and the conversation moved on.

Can you change someone’s mind, once they have seen the light of one side?  Is the sun dark on the side we don’t see?

I was worried about offending, but I was also worried about being able to hold up my end.  These things always seem to devolve into sword fights with scores racked up for nicking the opposing side with its most extreme half-truths. Half-truths are the worst kind of truths.  I’m no good at that kind of thing.  I’m more of a “Huh. Well, here’s some literature you may want to look at, if you have a moment” kind of thing.

I’m sure Shakespeare or Mark Twain wouldn’t have a problem speaking up.  They probably always knew exactly what to say, with a quick “no question, you aint!“ or a sharp “no, you’re the bum“.  Rapier wit.  My wit is pillow fight wit.

I guess I still have a lot to learn.  Maybe I’ll take those two on vacation with me.  That way, even though I’ll still be there, at least they will be also, and we might make an interesting threesome.

*OK, maybe neither of them said it.  I can’t even remember where I heard it.  It might just be a generic phrase that everybody said at some point. Anyway, that’s not what we’re really talking about here.  Get back to the main paragraph!

Hanging In There

Three times a week, was that the deal?  I think it was.  So funny.  And I always say I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions.  This is why.  Three times a week.  I needed a good laugh.

No, really, that doesn’t mean the weeks when things are going on, does it?  Like the weeks when I just felt so down and sick and blue.  Honestly, some of you have written right through those kinds of times and I’m thinking – what an incredible person, must have all her stuff together.  Also, it doesn’t count the week I agreed to do an extra job and didn’t get home until 10:00 pm? Or the times when I felt like I spilled out all my creativity in my first few posts and really, what else is there to say?

Three times a week?  It was supposed to be an incentive.  I was once involved in this political campaign.  Someone came up with the brilliant idea to have a contest to recruit donors.  First prize would be spending one day shadowing the candidate, riding with him in his limo to all his appearances, spending some time with the political wonks.  Sort of an “inside the campaign” treat.  Second prize?  Two days!

Three times a week? Remember that cruise a few weeks back.  All the generators collapsed and the ship was stranded for hours just out of port.  Those poor cruisers were stuck for days with no electricity, functioning toilets, or decent food.  All you heard about on the news was the flurry of tweets pleading for help. Once they finally got everybody back on dry land, what was that big, generous offer the company came up with to compensate these miserable survivors? A free cruise! Yeah, right.   (As an aside, I’ve been on a cruise, and I can totally believe all the horror stories.  Here’s my suggestion: if it ever happens to you – fake a heart attack and demand to be medevaced to the nearest resort adjacent hospital.  Problem solved.) Three times a week is feeling like walking up the gangway of that same ship, before it’s been serviced.

It all started so innocently (the blog challenge, I mean, not the cruise – although I guess that’s probably true of the cruise as well).  A chance to be creative, get back to my writing roots (I’m talking 5^th grade), learn a little about this whole internetty thing.  Now it’s about actually finding not just the time but the inspiration – the timspiration. 

But I’m going to hang in there.  I’m taking that free cruise.  I’m going for that second prize.  I’ll make it through the year, just wait and see.  I’m curious to see what January 2014 looks like; I’ll bet it’ll be way different then now.  I might be straggling behind.  I can’t promise three times a week.  But I’ll be there, and I can’t wait to celebrate the New Year with all of you. 

Is Yoga like Procrastination? Uh, well, maybe.

Stretching out after savasana feels so good, like waking up in the morning only better. After savasana, I’m so happy to have done my yoga practice for the day.  I know I’ve done something healthy for my body and my mind, and I’ve also worked toward some goals.  Now I can get up and go about my day, leaving it all behind until tomorrow. 

If only procrastination felt like that.  If only I could get in a good stretch, marking the end of procrastination, and move on feeling happy about my day.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. 

The great thing about yoga is that once the practice is done for the day, my mind has moved on and I don’t give it a second thought. Procrastination – nope, not the same effect.  Actually, somehow the opposite effect.  Everything I don’t do I just keep thinking about, all day long, and then all week long.  Sometimes it seems like I must have accomplished something, I’ve been thinking about it for so long, but then it turns out I didn’t.

So, when I’m doing yoga, there’s no perfectionism.  I don’t think about whether a pose is exactly right before I do it.  I just do it.  Moving into the pose is the learning process, and that’s my goal.

With the other thing – P (funnily enough, stands for procrastination and perfectionism) – it’s about whether its “just right”.  I’m just not prepared. Things are not in the right place.  I haven’t given it enough thought.  It’s not good enough yet.  A little more work.  Paralyzing (another P – what is it with these linguists?).

So what keeps me from rejoining my hardy group of bloggers and posting after almost 2 months? The three Ps.  One little essay after another piles up in my hard drive, waiting for me to come back to it and decide its ready to be seen ( I swear these guys are so good, anyone would be intimidated). 

Maybe that’s what keeps some people from starting a home practice – it has to be just right.  Well, yoga doesn’t have to be just right.  Just throw together some cats and cow stretches, move into down dog, do a chaturanga, go back to a cat and child’s pose, and bada bing – you’ve done your first home practice!  No need to get caught up in the three P’s.  Yoga is about expressing yourself, figuring out what your body wants in the moment, no one to judge you.

I’m going to post this now.  Not even going to edit (well, maybe a little).  No revisions (I noticed something up there, but that’s it).  Then right up on the site.  Not even going to walk away.  Its good enough right? Just like yoga, it’s not about the three P’s, it’s about expressing myself.  Right?

Today is April 5^th.  I promise I’m getting this up right away.

Yoga Op

These days, seems like everybody’s got one of those new type of cellular telephones, the kind where you can take a photograph.  Folks have those things out all over the place, snapping pictures of their food, their friends, and Lord only knows what else.  Used to be, you’d need an actual camera for all that stuff. Remember Polaroid cameras;  talk about picture taking.  You’d have to wait for the film to develop, than slowly peel off the top paper, all the while never knowing what you were going to get; that was real excitement. Everybody would gather round to see.  These days, most folks would be on their way before you even got done aiming.

Now the whole thing has even moved into yoga.  Lately it seems like any time someone does a pose, they need a picture. “Take a picture” they call out and, quick as whip, a dozen phones come out of nowhere and shots are taken from every angle.  You’d be blinded if they even used a decent cube flash.

 The other day, a friend ran up and took a picture of my feet in virasana.  They were sock-covered feet, cute socks, but still feet. She wanted me to see my third arch, the one between my toes.  Apparently one foot is missing an arch and here I’ve been limping along with a two-arched foot.  It just so happens that my  bum knee is on the same exact side as this two-arched foot, so  – just throwing it out there – could be there’s some kind of a connection.  Anyway, my sweet friend was going in that direction, and snapped that pic before I could down dog my feet out of there. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have been able to live out the rest of my days without seeing my dirty sock toes staring up at me in full color.

Anybody remember when we pulled the curtains shut on the mirrors in the studios? There was a reason for that.  You’re not going to find your center by looking at your middle.  Go inward and connect with your senses to figure out how to move your body.  And if that doesn’t work there’s always good old fashioned talking.  I mean, a picture may be worth a thousand words, but it’s a Polaroid celluloid throwaway compared to the picture you develop in your mind by reconnecting with your body.   Isn’t that why we’re here?

I don’t know, call me a fuddy duddy but it always takes me forever to jump on the next craze.  I like the good old day’s yoga.  None of this new fangled picture taking.  I’ll look at you, you look at me, and we’ll try to use our words to help each other understand our bodies.  If you’re a little thick headed, I could poke you in the ribs to move your down dog along.

Well, that’s my two cents anyway.

Now I’ve got to go; my Lawrence Welk show is coming on and I’ve got to find the dial on this goldurned TV!

My Knee Is Calling Me

A few months ago my knee decided it had been ignored long enough and started hurting.  I didn’t get too excited because my knees have been with me quite a while and for most of that time they’ve been acting up.  I adjusted my practice, lightening up on any pressure on my knee and decided it would all go away very soon.   It didn’t.

Eventually, the penny dropped and I realized the time had come to get it checked out. I am very lucky to live in a place with excellent socialized medicine.  There are truly many great advantages, like practically no out of pocket cost for very expensive procedures and tests. As with anything, however, there can be a few minor drawbacks, like waiting a month and a half for an appointment once I called the orthopedist. Having been proactive with my health, I figured what harm could there be in keeping up my yoga practice while I waited?  At this point I was not bending the knee nor putting weight on the leg; it was a one-sided practice.

The day finally dawned, and it was time for my appointment.  I limped into the doctor’s office, hopped up on the examining table, exchanged superficial how-are-you’s, and waited to get down to official business.  What brings you in? It’s my knee.  I gave her the whole back story of my long affair with my knees, and the dramatic turn of events which I believed had led to this particular flare up.  Then I told her I practiced yoga.  Silence.

It turns out the orthopedic profession may not be totally in love with yoga.  Not yoga itself, per se, but the impact it has on all those yoga type people who line up in droves complaining of various joint problems, and in particular this very issue staring up at us from my knee.  Apparently the joint had been overtaxed by repetitive and weight bearing bending movements.  She also sees it a lot in plumbers and floor installers.    

The truth is that my joints have not always been there for me; they like to hyper-extend and leave me behind.  Summarizing the list of yoga affected joints would cause another joint injury.  Learning about how to take care of my joints, and by extension myself, has been as much a part of my yoga education as learning pranayama and asana. That’s probably why I was so struck by her yoga comment.   Instinctively a part of me wanted to spring up and explain, defend yoga and let her know it didn’t have to be like that.  Another part, though, realized she was giving me an important piece of take away information. As teachers how often do we say not to push beyond your body’s limits; yet as students we know how hard it is not to do just that. 

I thanked the lovely doctor and took my bum knee, rebel joints and new found insight back out into the world, along with a recommendation for physical therapy.  There’s a PT clinic not far from my place and I’m confident if I walk in and make the appointment personally I can convince them to see me soon, definitely within the next four months.  

Savasana Cockroach

It was a hot, humid day in the middle of our endless summer.  We had reached the end of an Ashtanga class and as usual my clothes were drenched and little pools of chin sweat had accumulated on my mat.  The windows were wide open, but in a third floor room full of passionate yogis the tiny breeze didn’t stand a chance.

 There’s nothing like a savasana at the end of a good Ashtanga class.  Your body just melts onto the mat, literally as well as figuratively.  We didn’t even bother to pull on warmer clothes; there was no chance of cooling down too much.  Our recurring joke is “Hot yoga, who needs hot yoga, nature gave us hot yoga”.

 On this day, though, savasana was different.  On this day, while I lay in my sweat stained clothes, heat radiating from my body, a cockroach climbed on top of me.

  I had seen it in the middle of the room right before savasana, but decided I would ignore it and try to relax anyway.  When I started feeling tickling sensations along my rib cage I convinced myself I was imagining them.  At some point, I let my hand brush against my leg a couple of times, but the tickling came back.  That’s when I sat up and opened my eyes.  From under my left thigh, a giant cockroach scurried down past my knee, off my blue mat, and into the corner of the room.  This was a field cockroach.  It flies in when the windows are opened to catch the breeze.  It was about three inches long with powerful wings, now fluttering in distress.  As I grabbed my glasses, it turned around and scurried right back toward me.  It seemed to be seeking me.

 Generally I don’t do well with crawlies and creepies.  Not ants, not moths, not the occasional worm in my apple. But now as I sat on my mat watching the huge bug make its way back to me across blond wood floors in this beautiful studio, light pouring in through the windows, the symbol of unity inscribed on the floorboards, soft beings breathing lightly into a mix of energy swirling around us, it occurred to me that maybe this wasn’t the best time and place to pick up a corner of my blue mat and crush the life out of Godzillaroach.  I silently rose to my feet and stepped away.

The giant little creature started wandering around the room and I followed in its wake. It kept trying to climb onto the mats of innocent yogis in their corpse sleep and I kept brushing it off and sending it along on its way. As we neared a girl with shiny curls of long brown hair, an apparently particularly attractive beacon for Zillaroaches, she must have sensed our approach.  She rose to her feet, also in complete silence, and the procession began: first little Zilly, then me, then Brownylocks, soon followed by another and another, as more people noticed us and quietly got up to join in.  While some yogis relaxed into savasana, slowing letting go and releasing, others of us also practiced a sort of savasana, quietly letting go and releasing, relaxing into existing, being, following.

When we all reached the corner of the room, the wings started fluttering again, moving in a staccato rhythm, as though attempting to fly away.  We started to wake from this place of peace.  Someone slapped the giant cockroach; it died, got scooped up with a tissue and thrown away.

It’s not really about the arm balances

I love bakasana, crane pose. It makes me feel just like that amazing bird flapping its powerful wings, about to fly off into the sky. The traditional way to enter bakasana is with your head up.  I prefer starting with my head on the mat, like the beginning of tripod pose, salamba sirsasana.  From there, it’s all about the breath and the mula bandha, energy pouring down out of my hands and back up through my shoulders.  There’s no power involved here.  My head just floats up and my heart sings “Yo, Bakasana!” Of course, a fraction of a second later, my feet gently touch the ground and its over – yo, balance.

If this pose was about strength, I couldn’t do it.  I don’t have the strongest arms in the world, and even if I did, there’s still the issue of compensating for the weight at my other end (uh-hem, the heavier end).  It’s about technique – push your toe pads straight out, push down with your shins and your hands, lower your hips.  It’s about focus and breathing. But primarily it’s about confidence. I did it once, and then I did it again.

Because, funny thing about that bakasana pose I love. I can’t do it the other way. Nope.  Moving backwards is like savasana for me. Moving forward is impossible. I can’t even lift my feet off the ground. 

Which brings me back to my beloved nemesis pose, a topic familiar to many of you –  Adho Mukha Vrksasana, handstand pose. Poseur, more like, just posing as a yoga pose when really it’s more of circus trick come to taunt me with its go-ahead-and-try innocence. 

What do forward bakasana and AMV have in common for me, aside from the completely valid possibility of landing on my forehead and breaking the only neck I have?  And how do they differ from backward bakasana, or even all those multi numbered vasisthasanas I can do? Confidence.

There was this big-time teacher who once saw me not do handstand, and asked if I was afraid.  I may be way off base here, but anybody who has ventured into the waters of yoga has demonstrated courage, ipso facto.  It’s hard to learn how to breathe; to explore the intricacies of the poses; to develop focus; to sit and be.  Next to these things, forward bakasana and handstand are about finding the right technique, and confidence follows.  Confidence comes not just from walking down the path, but knowing the stones along the path so well you could tell someone else how to use it to get safely to their destination. 

Ultimately, I’m not afraid of forward bakasana, handstand or any other pose (big-time teacher!).  I just haven’t walked long enough and far enough to fully know the path yet. But I will.  And also, there’s always a neck brace.