Yeah, but does it work?

I haven't blogged in a few days...things get busy around here once school kicks into gear.  Lab reports and tests need to get graded, lessons need to be planned, kids need to be shuffled around to sports and lessons, homework needs to be done.  Now this year I'm adding my own homework, lessons, and classes to the mix.  Suffice it to say, I've been meaning to write, but time is at a premium.

It's a topsy-turvy world I've created this fall.  I was up and out of the house by 5:20am on Friday, just to observe a class and back home in time to get to work early because I was doing a lab with my students that required a bit of prep.  Today, I'm set to take my first all-day teacher training session (Husband is gamely willing to entertain the boys solo today), followed by a Jack White concert at Radio City later tonight.  Whew.  Even still, I feel it's going to be worth it in the end, and I'm enjoying the journey thus far (even if the homework is a bit anxiety-inducing - see previous post).

I was sharing with someone at work that I was going back to school this year to get a new teaching certification, and when I explained that it was for teaching yoga, she raised an eyebrow and said "Oh?"  "Yes...", I continued, "I've been practicing for a long time, and I felt like this was the next step for me to take my practice a little further, a little more serious."  She questioned back, "Yoga, huh?  You don't seem like the type.  I mean, does it even work?"  I didn't even know how to answer that.

First of all, the comment that I didn't seem like the "type"...what's that supposed to mean?  How about Marilyn up there, hands in Anjali Mudra...does she seem like the type?  I mean, she's wearing lipstick and jewels and everything!  Should I start there (I've been known to don a red lip and a few gems now and again)...or am I supposed to drench myself in patchouli and wear tunics, mala beads, and Birkenstocks everywhere?  I know that people make assumptions about "yogis", so I took no offense...I thought it was funny that her first reaction was that I wasn't the type.  

The second query was the one that made me pause:  Does it even work?  Does yoga work for what?  Straighening your hair?  Getting out stains?  Probably not.  The thing about yoga is that everyone has a different reason and intention for coming to the mat, and I would venture to say that it probably does work for whatever intention you set out for yourself.  The biggest thing to realize is that yoga is not a "magic bullet" solution for your problems.  I was scanning my brain about how to explain this for her, but I quickly realized that people can't be made to see this until they are ready to see it.  A yoga practice is something you build over time - nothing happens overnight - and with each session on the mat, be it restorative, iyengar, or vinyasa, you'll have an opportunity to work on your intention.

Is your intention to relax?  True, relaxation can happen in a lavender-scented bubble bath, but yoga can also offer relaxation.  Is your intention to build strength?  Lift some free weights...or do a few planks and down-dogs.  Do you want to restore the flexibility of your youth?  Yoga is one path.  Is it weight loss you're after?  Well, the time spent on your yoga mat is time that you're not spending eating, so I suppose weight loss could be in the cards for you.

I'm not trying to be glib.  The point is that yoga can help you accomplish just about any intention you set for yourself.  You just have to acknowledge what that intention is, and decide that yoga is going to be your path to that intention.  It was the scoffing attitude, I think, that got me...almost with a tone of judgement..."Does it even work?"  My eventual reply was a chipper "Well, it's working for me.  Give it a try, maybe it will work for you!  I'll be looking for people to test out my teaching with soon..."  I think she was looking for something more concrete, though.  She wanted me to say, "I've lost 10 pounds since I started!"  or "Check out my ripped biceps!" or "Well, I've magically lost the urge to scream at my 8th graders every day!"

Since I had no glory stories to tell, I may not have been as inspiring as she needed me to be.  Sometimes people need something material to grasp onto before they come to the mat...but once they get there, I think the truth dawns on them:  that yoga is not magic, but it can be whatever you want it to be, and that's what's so great about it!  Maybe that's magic afterall...

"By practising Yoga, impurities dwindle away and the light of wisdom dawns." - Patanjali's Yoga Sutras

Come to a comfortable seat...

Where there's homework, there's a struggle.  There's struggle with getting it done/meeting the deadline, the struggle with not knowing what to do, the struggle with fretting over whether it's right.  (Parents of my 8th grade students know these struggles well!)  When you go back to school as an adult, you somehow "forget" what a struggle homework can be when you're the one who's doing it!
Last week, my homework was "Centering" - I needed to write a bodyscan from the sitting bones upwards, reciting phrases (that I came up with) that would help my potential class of students center themselves for practice.  I wrote out on index cards a few phrases that I thought would be effective at helping people "center" themselves - basically preparing themselves mentally and physically for what was about to happen for the next hour on the mat.  When the time came on Wednesday's session to pair up with a classmate and guide them into a centered state, I realized I was woefully under-prepared.  I wrote out something that I thought was great - anyone hearing my words would be sure to feel centered as their yoga practice started, right? - but when I heard the thoughtful, sensitive words of my partner, I realized that I didn't give my "centering" the attention it deserved.  She sounded like a pro - someone who had been teaching for years, using imagery, key phrases, and gentle guiding words to help people settle in on their mats.  When I complimented her, she fully admitted that she "pinched it" (she's English).  I recited my poor attempt, and she was polite, but I knew I left a lot to be desired.  I pledged to give a lot more thought and devotion to this week's homework.
This week, my homework is to create a 3-minute practice (3 minutes, that's IT!) that will center my class, warm them up, and bring them to standing (tadasana).  It is such a hard assignment.  I've already devoted 45 minutes to writing out this sequence and trying it out myself - and I feel like it's not right.  My biggest problem is limiting myself to 3 minutes.  In most of the classes I've taken in the last year, the centering alone takes more than 3 minutes.  How the heck am I supposed to get a beginning yogi relaxed and into a standing posture in 3 minutes?  I tried it out on my husband (NOT a yogi) last night, and it did not go well (to say the least!).
We are supposed to write our practices assuming that everyone in our class is a beginner.  It would be an understatement to say that my husband is a beginner.  On top of that, he has some sort of ankle injury (this foot problem happens on a regular basis, and probably should require medical attention, but that's another blog entry for another day).  I should rally and say "Well, yoga is going to sort these problems out for you - trust me!"  I should be ready and knowledgeable about how to modify the posture so that it helps strengthen these troublesome muscles and joints.  Instead, it devolved because I had written a sequence for someone who was familiar with what I was talking about.  And because it was me, my husband had no problem saying "Ow!  That hurts.  I have no idea what you mean.   I can't do what you're doing!"(I was just sitting on my knees, in a "comfortable seat", btw).   I truly don't think he would have been as vocal in a yoga class with another teacher - he would have "played along".  Either way, it was late, it was me, and he had no problem speaking right up!
That said, ANYone taking a yoga class shouldn't "play along".  If something is uncomfortable, a yogi should feel comfortable enough to speak up and ask for a modification.  And the teacher needs to be knowledgeable and flexible enough to offer up the mods.  Sadly, that's not how it went down last night.  I got frustrated, he got frustrated, and the 3 minutes opened my eyes to exactly how much MORE I have to do.  I don't have to scrap everything - but I do have to be more descriptive and much more considerate.
I guess it's back to the drawing board for me - hopefully, this time it won't take 45 minutes to write out 3 minutes of a sequence.  I'm not ready to throw the towel in.  Yet.

By practicing yoga, impurities dwindle away and the light of wisdom dawns - Patanjali's yoga sutras

Everyone is having their own experience...

Any proficient classroom teacher knows that each child in front of you is having a different experience.  Ergo, the importance of differentiation in your lessons: you have to have multiple entry points to the lesson's content so that the material is interesting and accessible to all of the learners in your classroom.  It's sort of a "Well, DUH!" thought:  Of course every child is having a different experience.  They all bring varying backgrounds to the table and those differences influence the way they learn and perform.  As a teacher, you can choose the degree to which you let this influence your lesson.  GREAT teachers are flexible and talented enough to incorporate a lot of this, weaving a brightly patterned lesson. So-so teachers know what the fabric is supposed to look like and weave the same cloth over and over again.

So, when my Instructor mentioned this concept "Everyone is having their own experience..." during our lessons on Wednesday, why did they have such a profound effect on me?  When she spoke these words, I felt like the clouds opened, raining sunlight down on our class, enlightening me with the most philosophical statement I had heard in weeks!

I understood how she was relating the words to being a teacher in a yoga class - you don't know what injuries someone brings to the table and you don't know what level of yoga experience someone is bringing.  The bottom line is that you have to be careful about the way you phrase certain directions when teaching postures.  You can ask the class to slide their right ankles forward, but one student may be already at his or her edge, and the ankle can't move any further forward.  Another student may be new to yoga, and have no idea why the right ankle has to be in that position.  Other students may be recovering from injuries, and moving deeper into the posture is just too painful.  The main message of this lesson was that as the instructor, you have to be observant of your pupils and choose your words carefully.  Give personal directions when necessary, and keep in mind that "everyone is having their own experience".

Going deeper, I realized that this statement can be applied in every situation, and that's what got me, gave me pause to think.  I looked around at my colleagues in our cohort (which is 18 future-yoga-teachers big!) and listened to their (brief) biographies, realizing that each of us in in the training for different reasons.  Over the next few days, I started approaching a lot of situations with this outlook, and I swear it made me feel more compassionate.  At the kids' sports practices this weekend, every parent was having their own experience - some were fully engaged in watching the practices (even helping with coaching directives), others (like me!) took advantage of the time to catch up on emails and texts before trying to chat with fellow parents and see how the first few days of school were going.  Even at a (really, really fun) birthday party last night (it's not a proper party unless the Taco Truck shows up!!), chatting and catching up with various friends we missed seeing over the summer, everyone was having their own experience.

We are all having our own experience, no matter what situation we find ourselves in.  I encourage you to give it a try, and see if it brings you a little more understanding and compassion.  Driving around town, going to a sports practice, sitting in a class, there are always multiple viewpoints to consider.   What comes to mind at present is my training class.  No one's reason for being there has any more gravitas than anyone else's - we are all parts of the whole (cohort), and I'm sure the fabric of the lessons we weave over the next 9 months will be vibrant, brilliant, and one of the most valuable I've ever been a part of!

It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see - Henry David Thoreau

September: National Yoga Month!

In honor of National Yoga Month, Athleta is offering a series of "inspirational yoga quotes".  Of course, while you view these quotes, you'll probably notice the insanely fit women wearing some insanely cool yoga gear.  And of course, you can purchase this gear from Athleta.
But for now, let's enjoy the serenity of the model, and be inspired by Yumi's words:

Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.

I hope you'll find yourself on the mat at least once this month!

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Well, two days in a row, I got up nice and early (yes, the start of school does that to teachers.  You have ALL these nights to get nervous about:  The night before the teachers go back.  The night before you meet your homeroom.  The night before your first full day.  The night before your first Monday.  I might not get a good nights' sleep until October!).  What to do with all that "extra" time?  Well, how about some yoga?

It took a lot more convincing today to get my body out of bed.  My mind kept telling it, "Well, I'm up.  We might as well do something."  The body whined back, "I know if I open my eyes, it's still going to be dark.  The legs are too tired, and the neck is nice and comfy at this angle.  If you make me get up now, I'm never going to make it to the end of the day!  You don't even know what I'm going to wear today!"  To which the mind replied, "Ah ha!  All the more reason to get up!  We need to see if that dress needs ironing."  Of course the dress didn't need to be ironed.  It's so frustrating to my lazy self when the mind outsmarts me!

Anyway, I'm glad I got up.  Since the dress didn't need to be ironed, I put the time to good use by getting on the floor again.  (No way was the mind convincing the body to stumble downstairs in the dark to fetch my mat.  The mind is cue-ing right now: "Maybe you should just bring the mat upstairs the night before.  Then I'll have more ammo with which to trick you in the morning!")

I decided to follow the same practice I followed yesterday morning - Sun Salutations followed by some lunges, reclined twists, and planks leading up to Vashisthasana.  I had a little bit of trouble with my Side-Planks yesterday.  I couldn't hold them for long...but today, TODAY was a different story.  It was measurably easier today (and I was considerably more lazy today!).  My form just felt better - the side wasn't sagging, the legs were stacked instead of staggered, the shoulder wasn't sinking.  Perhaps my practice yesterday was setting me up for doing a little better today.  Now, what if I get up early again tomorrow and attempt the same flow?  Will "practice make perfect"?

Perfection does not come easy on the mat - but practice does bring you, step by step, closer.  Perfection is not the solution in yoga.  The journey is the solution.  It's about what you discover on that journey.  How does each day change your practice?  Do subtle variations make you feel better, stronger, more confident?  All of this experimentation on the mat is what makes yoga so much fun.

So go ahead, Lather, Rinse, and Repeat your flow.  It may never get perfect, but it will always get better!

It's here...

As the sun sets,
so must another summer
(Mexico '10)

Well, dear readers, the first day of school is here.  I was up at a very unreasonable hour, and decided to open my day with some sun salutations that turned into some chest-openers that eventually wound up being a challenging Vasisthasana.  I feel great, and figured I'd take a quick moment to blog before the kids wake up and I have to start yelling at them to get clothes on and out the door.

This is a transitional day for most people I know - the day you send your children back to school, or the day you, yourself, head back to work.  You see, most people I know are parents of young children and/or teachers.  This is a time of parinama, or change.  Various people look forward to it for various reasons.  Some parents count down the hours because their kids have been driving them nuts (especially when the day before school starts is overcast and not exactly ripe for playing outside of the house!): summer is over, and it's time to get back to a routine.  But when you think about it, perhaps the frustration everyone is feeling at the end of summer is a manifestation of the anticipation of change.

Parinama can be stressful for a lot of people.  You're switching gears, you don't know what to expect as the change happens, you're a little unsure, even fearful.  It may take some people longer than others to adjust to this change, and depending on how negatively you and your system are affected by the changes taking place, you may feel like you're suffering.

By quieting your mind and trying to look at things more clearly, you may be able to ease that suffering, and that's where yoga comes in.  My few moments on the mat this morning (hardwood floor, actually - my mat was downstairs and I wasn't coordinated enough to stumble downstairs in the dark to get it) really helped to not only set my intention for the day, but helped me to connect with the inner "me".  Perhaps this will help me feel centered and grounded at I approach this day of Parinama, perhaps it will only last long enough for me to get my kids off to school.  That is what yoga practice is all about.  You keep returning to it, practicing, until you get it right.  You may never get it right - in fact, you will always face parinama, sure as the seasons change, so there is always a need to practice.

September is National Yoga Month, so what better time to start your practice - even if only to help ready you for all that change that's fast approaching!  See you on the mat! (oh, and ps - it's exactly ONE WEEK before I start my teacher training program.  soexcited!)

"Prevent the suffering that is yet to come" - Patanjali's Yoga Sutra II.16

Book Review: The Bhagavad Gita (Chapter 6)

Of all the books I've had to get for my Teacher training, this one right here is giving me the most trouble!   It's not that thick (220 pages), and the whole thing is basically a non-rhyming poem, but the language has a lot of meaning and symbolism behind it, making it a challenge to read more than a few pages in one go.  This book has come with me to Paris, to the pool, to NJ, to Boston, to the nail salon, to my couch, and I'm still only halfway through it.
The Bhagavad Gita is essentially the Hindu bible's equivalent of the Psalms.  It is quite a departure from the Christian Bible I grew up using and reading. Instead of the many allegories, stories and lessons about good and bad people and events that occurred long ago, the Gita is a conversation between a warrior, Arjuna, and his blessed lord, Krishna.  Arjuna is about to enter a great battle, where he will be fighting with and against friends and relatives he has known his whole life.  He decides this is senseless, and refuses to fight.  At this point, Krishna begins to teach Arjuna about wisdom, freedom, and the secret of life.  Sounds compelling, like something I should be paying attention to.  Except I'm not getting it.
Truthfully, I recently finished the chapter on meditation (chapter 6), and it was the first chapter so far that made sense to me.  Now, I have never been one to meditate.  I know my yoga teachers meditate, and I have many friends who swear by meditation as being transformative for their bodies, minds, and spirits.  I've never given it a try - and you can't really know ANYTHING unless you give it a try once - but I can't envision myself getting into meditation.  It takes 20 minutes or more of sitting and emptying your mind so you can connect with your true, inner self.  I know that my time is limited, and I'm used to multi-tasking.  Even when I'm on the yoga mat, I'm thinking about how I will need to switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer when I get home, swandive, but I should stop at the grocery store first on the way to pickup milk, and I need to keep my back foot at at 45 degree angle, was it a light load or a dark load? And now we're windmilling down, and as soon as I get the milk and get home I have to remember to call the roofer to asking about the copper flashing and chaturanga, updog, downdog, breathe, is there anything else we're running out of that I can get when I'm at the store...
If I was taking 20 minutes to empty my mind, how would I remember to do any of those things?  Wouldn't I spend the entire 20 minutes thinking about how I should be exercising because I had gelato last night from the new place in town?  Maybe I'd be thinking about all that laundry I should be folding, or tiles I should be scrubbing, or recycling I could be organizing (I won't kid you, I never organize my recycling.  Shameful, I know.  Disgusting, perhaps, but I just don't have the time).
But in reading this chapter on meditation, I "get it".  "when the mind has become serene by the practice of meditation, you can see the Self through the self and rest in the Self"  What this means is that you'll be like a candle sheltered from the wind - one that does not flicker and is still.  The chapter continues to explain that this is the true yoga; you'll be rooted, stable, courageous.  The book admits that the mind will wander and it is part of the process to reign your thoughts back in for clarity and peace.  Eventually you'll gain freedom and infinite joy.
I've not made plans yet to meditate.  I can, however, take these words with me and keep them in mind as I finish reading the text.  I'm only on chapter 8, and I have 10 more to go.  (Hopefully I'll finish before my classes start!) Anytime my mind wanders, I'll have to reign my thoughts back in so I can focus on the message and meaning of the text.  Eventually I'll gain freedom (even if it's only freedom from reading this dang book!) and find infinite joy!

You are right, Arjuna:  the mind is restless and hard to master; but by constant practice and detachment it can be mastered in the end. - Krishna, in Bhagavad Gita 6.35

A lamentation on the end of summer...

My boys and some friends saying farewell to summer.
(well, they're waiting for the ferry, but it looks like "farewell")

"Summer" doesn't officially end until September 22nd - the Autumnal Equinox - a time when the hours of day are supposed to equal the hours of night.  Despite what the calendar tells us, most people feel that Labor Day weekend is the end of summer.  Stay-at-home/work-at-home parents are rejoicing because they'll finally get a little peace and quiet to get their projects (work and home) completed.  Children are antsy - looking forward to seeing their friends again on a regular basis, but not looking forward to using their brains in an academic way ("Ugh, I have to get up early?"  "There's homework?!?")  Teachers are whining "Where did my summer go?!?"  (I know, I know...you just want to tell those whiners "STFU!" - it even gets on my nerves - and I'm a teacher!)  Parents of college-bound children can't believe those 18 years have flown by.
We can't stop the march of time.  It moves on whether we like it or not.  I try and be a grownup about it and accept it every September.  It's time to be grateful that I have a job that allows for a 104-day (not really, Phineas and Ferb.  Not even close.) break to rejuvenate. Somehow, the end of summer feels different for me this year.  I know I'm on the verge of some dramatic changes.  Obviously the topsy turvy schedule we'll be keeping around here is going to be dramatic.  But I also have a 5 year old who is entering Kindergarten (and "organized" town sports, too), and I'm surprised at how emotional it is this time around.  It's dawning on me that it's the end of the preschool era in our house.  That's dramatic!
He is the younger of my two children, and once he walks through those Kindergarten doors, I won't have a "little kid" anymore.  I mean, physically, he's little, but people will start to see me as one of those mothers "with older children".  He is going to join his brother in the "land of primary school-induced independence"! Even more-so than in nursery school, he is going to learn how to be his own person and make his own decisions.  Soon, he'll not want to hold my hand anymore or give me a hug and kiss goodbye.  I'm starting to understand why people have 3 and 4 kids (but not 5.  That's crazy, no matter how you cut it!  Both my grandmothers had 5 kids...and we've got some crazies.) You want to prolong those feelings.  Sure, it's a pain the neck to change diapers, juggle baby gear, and wipe faces (I can't say tushies, because my 5 year old is still asking to have his tush wiped...some of you with husbands might even comment that they never stop acting like they need their tush wiped!), but that sweet feeling of having a little person who wants you and actually acknowledges that he needs you is so warming.  It also ironically makes you seem "younger".  A mom who feels frazzled with kids pulling at the proverbial apron strings can rest assured that she projects a younger vibe than the "polished" mom who has a few extra minutes to actually accessorize with a bracelet or run some product through her hair because her kids can brush their own teeth, no matter what age that driver's license reports.
So, what am I actually lamenting this year?   Is it the end of the relaxed days with no deadlines?  Is it the dread of cooler, snowier days ahead?  Now that I've typed this, it's starting to dawn on me exactly how vain I actually am...
Oh, and how is yoga going to help with this?  Well, keeping active with gentle yoga stretches that bathe and lubricate the joints with sinovial fluid will keep me feeling sprightly, and at the very least, enable me to continue to wipe my own tush, well into my old, old age!

Namaste.