Community

This weekend I attended my first drum circle. I went with no expectation. We were loaned a djembe drum, an African instrument that is played by hand. Mark guided us in some basic techniques, and then we began.

At first, I was just trying to find my coordination. Eventually, I let go of trying to copy or keep up, and it just flowed. My sound was mixing with sounds of all the drums in the room. I watched the room with more softness. It was more than sound to the ear; it was vibration throughout the body. At one point, I stopped drumming and hovered my hands over the skin, physically feeling it vibrate from all the other drums in the room. I was in joyous awe.

Then my friend got up and danced in the middle of the circle. The energy in the room rose even higher and I felt my heart break open. I wanted to join her, but I felt this was her moment. This circle was a benefit for her daughter. I wanted to honor this space, so I drummed with even more enthusiasm.

During our water break, she told me I should join her. I shrugged that I was too shy. She assured me that once you’re up there you just let go of everything. Next round of drumming, I see her saunter her way over to me. She gives me a nod, and I follow. Just like the drumming, I tried moving with some sort of rhythm and style, and then I was just moving. I was so lost in the moment that she tapped my arm to check in on me. I found myself in giddy bliss.

As we were cleaning up, my husband and I were talking with some of the other participants, sharing our experiences. It was such a beautiful space, no one wanted to break it.

Its times like this that reminds me how vital and life affirming a community can be. I haven’t felt a part of a community for most of my adulthood. The church I grew up in no longer resonated with me, my family and friends had scattered, and the only group I had were my co-workers. Thankfully, I was blessed with many years sharing office spaces with people who were caring and supportive. Now I am so grateful to be a part of very encouraging communities of yoga, spiritual development, biking and books.

I was talking with my dad about the drum circle and how good it felt to be with these friends. He said that’s why his groups are so important to him; volunteering at a senior center, barbershop singing, and other religious and cultural groups. As his age gradually limits him, his connections to these groups grow even more precious. It heartens me when he reports how his friends help him out by giving him rides to the meetings and other events.

The drum circle was a continuation of the Purple Om fundraiser for Amber in February. Donations classes at Be Well are the 3rd Friday of the month at 6pm and are continuing to benefit Amber in April and May. 

No judgement needed

I've discussed the first yama of ahimsa, non-violence, many times. Compassion and non-judgement is the foundation of my practice. It is what remind my students during yoga class. It is what I remind myself when I fall out of a balancing pose.

These reminders are great when offering loving-kindness to ourselves when feeling challenged or uncomfortable, but what about when we find ourselves in situations that just doesn't feel healthy.

I ask myself, and my students, not to see things as good or bad, right or wrong. Instead, I ask how does this feel? Does it feel supportive or helpful, or is it causing pain and possible damage?

In my yoga therapy training with Nancy Candea, we practiced a series of poses while standing on one leg. Believing that I was obligated to keep up with the class, I pushed myself, holding my balance the best I could. Standing on my left leg, a shooting pain traveled from the inside of the fallen arch in my foot through the back of my knee. I kept going. Afterward, Nancy caught me massaging the area and asked me what happened. When I told her, she asked me, "is this pose useful for you?"

I know the eka pada standing poses strengthen the supporting leg, including the muscles that have grown weak from the arches in my foot not lifting. What is not useful for me is standing unsupported for a prolonged period. Being able to stand on one leg will not make me a better yoga teacher or a better person. Because it's easy for the person next to me doesn't mean it needs to be easy for me.

I decided that I can mindfully explore these poses, notice how I feel in the moment, and honor the messages that my body is giving me. I can use a chair or a wall to alleviate the body weight transitioning to the standing leg. I can shorten the time I hold my body in this position. In time, I may progress in my practice, but more importantly I may find more ease in my posture and functioning through normal activities. If it doesn't, then I may explore other options.

I am so grateful for the question, "is this useful for you?" It has freed me into making a choice of what is best for me. This is a choice I can make in every moment. Instead of making a judgement based on old ideas and beliefs that are no longer appropriate, I can use the intelligence of my mind and body to discern what is happening. From this discernment, I can better decide my next action, without the emotional charge of judgement.

This takes much practice. Believe me, I'm still practicing. I will always need to practice. Most of the time, I catch myself reacting from my longstanding patterns instead of responding intelligently. I am catching myself a bit quicker, so that may be a sign of progress.

Even letting go of that judgement is a practice!