Celebration

My dad recently celebrated his 85th birthday. His one wish was to gather family and friends together in celebration. His mom gave lavish parties every 5 years to celebrate her milestone birthdays. I remember her 85th and her 90th. She passed 2 months afterwards.

My dad isn't a lavish person, but he did want a party. My sister created invitations with pictures of him as a small child and as a young adult. My brother came from California. My dad ordered the catering and I ordered the cake. The day before the party, my dad and I shopped for party supplies, drinks, etc. I planned on setting up at the Irish-American club at least 2 hours before it started.

Things didn't go as planned. We were running late, the cake had the wrong age written, and the store was crowded. My control-freak nature was beyond frustrated.

As I stood on line for the cashier, waiting for the person in front of me, I was very aware that there was nothing I could do. I stood and looked at my surroundings. I felt my body buzzing and my heart beating. I focused on what was happening, like a scientist. It was interesting. I remembered other times I have felt this way, and they weren't always bad. I remember feeling this way when I went to my first concert, or going on a first date. I imagined my dad was feeling this way while he was waiting for me in the car.

We got to the club to set up while my husband and brother picked up the catering. My sister soon came and jumped right in setting up the coffee station. When the guys came back with the food, they also helped setting up.

As the guests began arriving, the women who belong to the club took over the kitchen. Gratefully, I began to relax. I was happy to see some people I grew up with. My cousin, whom I haven't seen in 5 years, sat with us and led our very amusing conversations. My grandchildren and nephew were happily playing outside with my sister's dog. My dad and his barbershop friends got into a circle and sang a few times throughout the party. He ended up with 3 birthday cakes! My 7-year old granddaughter put candles on all of them, which was fine since the kids also helped blow them out.

There are times when I get so focused on how I think things should be done, I tune out the clamorous music of life. Sometimes that is necessary. Sometimes I just need to let go of my itinerary and participate harmoniously in the present moment. At 85 years old, my dad still had more to teach me.

Practice

Throughout my teacher training, both with Kripalu and Yoga Impact, maintaining our personal practice is required. It made sense that I keep up so I can physically demonstrate the poses that I teach. What I have discovered through my practice is much more profound.

There are times when I do sun salutations first thing in the morning just to get them over with. A check on my to-do list. Sometimes the whiny child in me begins to surface "I don't wanna practice." I breathe my arms up, and move through the sequence with my breath. I notice what is tight, what needs to be opened. I breathe and move gently in these spaces. When my practice is complete, I sit in meditation.

I have also come to the mat with my hands over my heart, with no thought of what will happen next. I practice the poses that are most challenging for me. I practice gentle watery movements to free any stiffness or tension. I memorize sequences and how they feel in my body. Whatever form my practice takes that day, it is always a practice of mindfulness.

I study teachings of yoga, science, philosophy and religion with fascination. I can read a passage, then months later, it's like I've never read it before. I find gold everywhere I look, and then I turn around and find it again.

When I practice yoga, there is gold. My mind and body calm, and I am clearer in my thinking and activity. It clears the distractions, negativity and the untruths that I have learned to believe about myself. My yoga practice goes deeper because it's not being told to me, it's being experienced. When I press my palms together in front of my heart, I offer love to all the parts of who I am. Even the parts that are harder to accept. When I raise my arms overhead, joy is present. When I stand strong in a warrior pose, the shy wallflower within me is transformed.

In "Living Buddha, Living Christ" Thich Nhat Hanh explores the teachings and practices of two people who lived on the earth thousands of years ago. Though culturally expressed differently, each practice brought their followers to that place of divine peace; whether it be called Nirvana or Kingdom of God. He further emphasizes that practice is necessary even when that peace has been reached. If the practice is discarded, all that was discovered becomes an array of concepts and ideas. What is touched upon in our practice is alive, it is the essence of our being that gets lost in our busy-ness.

I discovered the song "I Am What I Am" sung by Aykanna. The lyrics are simple and repetitive. "I am what I am. And that's alright." For reasons beyond my understanding, I was drawn to share this song with my very musical granddaughter.

The next day, I went to my beloved teacher's yoga class. She talked about the yoga practice burning away all the stuff that doesn't belong to you to get you back to who you truly are, which is pure bliss. You are already fine just as you are, yoga is just a way to see that.

I closed my eyes in reverence to the connection I just experienced. I felt tears fall as my practice had already begun.

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!

Ishvara Pranidhana

Stopped at a red light, I watched a flock of birds moving effortlessly in unison just yards in front of me. They rose together and swirled around a tree before diving gracefully toward the earth. I called to my grandson sitting in the back, “did you that? Wasn’t that amazing?”

“What? All the birds just followed the leader.” He was not impressed.

This exchange stuck with me for days. I was inspired to research it further.

The phenomenon of swarming or flocking is not unique to birds, but fish, insects and even animals. There are scientific and mathematical studies to determine the factors that create swarming behavior. The reasons vary among the species from migration for food to colonization. Swarming uses the simple model of moving in the same direction while remaining close and avoiding collision. 

I often think of this when watching bicyclists riding together. My husband is an avid cyclist, and I’m fascinated by his instinctual maneuvering on different terrains and traffic patterns. I need to practice and work on my skills just to go on an easy ride. More than my physical limitations, my mental blocks can paralyze me into a dead stop. How many times have I been told “just GO!”

Ishvara Pranidhana is the 5^th niyama, the observances included in Patanjali’s yoga sutras. Most commonly it is translated as “surrender.” Surrender to what? Across centuries of cultures and religions, there were many wars and lives destroyed over the differences in their answer. I’m not about to start another war.

I can only share my own experience.  I released the framework I was taught and began my own journey. In many ways, I have come back to a fuller understanding of those teachings. I am also free of holding onto a belief with stubborn defiance.

I found this freedom through my yoga practice. I explore my balance between will and surrender; holding strong and letting go. I slow down my movements, I slow down my breath, and then my thoughts naturally begin to slow. In time, I slow into stillness. It is in this space that I am free to fully surrender. I let GO.

When I am off my yoga mat, I continue the practice of surrender. In this sense, discernment is essential. I don’t advocate surrendering to whatever becomes present in life. Through yoga and meditation, I develop a stronger sense of self. I begin picking up subtle cues I used to miss. My distractions and ego-fueled fears burn away, and I gain clarity. I am closer to the true essence of life, of myself.

Now when I see birds swarm in their beautiful dance, I am even more enthralled.

The Holiday Season

This time of year can be challenging. There were times I could not raise my “happy” level to match the festivities. Relationship issues, financial struggles and pressures from work have distracted me from the joyous feelings I’m “supposed to have.” Christmas carols and festive lights felt more intrusive than welcoming.

In general, this season radiates a warm glow for me.  I love watching the children overflowing with excitement. I feel peaceful hearing holy music. I am blessed with many happy memories of Christmas, visiting relatives and honoring traditions from our families. 

And yet… this season has also brought disappointment and heartbreak. Family members missing from the table, the first Christmas without someone we have lost, and witnessing the erosion of innocence. The pain we carry seems to amplify when we’re being encouraged to deny its existence.

There are very real issues that we manage from day to day, and the holidays ask that we put these aside to celebrate, to refocus on the bigger picture. We are all connected through Love. Whatever religion or holiday you align with, this is the basic idea. Unfortunately, this tends to get lost when we try to keep up with the expectations.

One thing I have learned through my experiences of difficult holidays is to let go of the meaningless traditions and simplify. I have let go of a lot. I don’t decorate anymore, because it was more work than enjoyment. I don’t try to find the perfect gift, because I never really understood what that meant. I don’t cook elaborate meals, because I don’t eat elaborate meals. I don’t send cards, though I do enjoy receiving this new trend of photo cards. Maybe one year I’ll send pictures of my husband on his bike with me in a yoga pose.  

This is how I am choosing to celebrate the spirit of the season. When I simplify my participation in the holidays, I have more freedom to be fully present. I can see if someone feels lonely or frustrated, and I can respond with love. I can see if the holiday traditions are so meaningful to someone because it connects them to their past, and I can respond with love. I look into the beautiful eyes of my loved ones, and my heart responds with Love.

To you and yours, however you celebrate this season, I wish you all the blessings of Love.

My Nightmare

Last night I had a dream that I was attacked by a vicious large black dog. The teeth and the growling was terrifying and real. Like the movie "Cujo," I was trapped in a car watching it's head crashing against the window. A woman outside the car was beating it down away from me. At one point it was down on the ground, and I thought it was over. It leapt up even angrier, charging at my window, which was now rolled down. I pressed back as far as I could, it's face and teeth were inside the car and coming at me quickly. I knew there was no escape. I woke up.

I looked up dream interpretations on the internet, which there are many sites and conflicting information. What I took was that a black dog means a disloyal friend or the shadow side of a friend. The barking was gossip and the biting was fear. Trying to figure out who that could be, and finding no conclusion, I let it drop. It may have been a memory from some other time, something I watched, or just me imagining a fear come to life.

After my typical morning ritual, I went downtown to teach a class. Walking back to my car, thinking about what needs to be done for the rest of the day, I saw a black dog. It's leash was tied to the door of a bagel shop. It was small, probably under 10 pounds. It didn't bark, it just held eye contact with me. As I continued walking, I felt my awareness shift.

I haven't "decided" what all this means. I do feel comforted, that I'm not completely on my own. For now, that may be enough.