This week in Yoga

What a slacker. I thought...oh, it's only been a month since my last post. Yeah, try two months. Well, at least my consistency rate with Yoga is much better than the Yoga blog. No excuses. I'm back.

This week has been a Diane week. Actually it's been a Diane couple of weeks because Angela was in Mexico. Poor her. And it's rewarding to work closely with one teacher and watch how the classes build on each other and how they are different. What's so impressive to me is the obvious amount of time, preparation and thought that goes into every single class, from the sequencing of postures to the playlists to the readings. It's beautiful. But maybe what is more impressive is how willing Diane is to throw the script out the window if intuitively she reads that the class needs something different that what's she's prepared. The needs of the community are greater than the expression of the self and so are the rewards.

This has been a particularly stressful week for me. Lots of walking around the parking lot to blow off steam. But Yoga changes everything. In the first few moments of savasana, we drop all the stress to the mat and it just floats away. I am consistently amazed by the power of the breath. And I'm trying to take that from the mat to the Haworth Zody chair I sit in every day. I've come to the conclusion that I can no longer process stress. Or maybe I'm just more aware of what it does to me. This week, I even slurred my speech because my face was so contorted from the weight of everything that has been happening. Ridiculous. But I take it to the mat and the mat receives it and I stand up ready to face another day. How did I ever function through life without this practice. I honestly don't know.

I'm still practicing tripod headstand. And lots of core work. And I'm loving the results of both. I actually look forward to exercising the core muscles which I think highlights an inner sickness somewhere, but I'm okay with that. And the two are uniquely tied together. It's a strong core that is going to enable me to lift my legs into the air in tripod headstand. By working the core, we engage the solar plexus which strengthens self-esteem and courage. I don't think it's strength that I'm lacking at this point as much as it is the courage necessary to fall. It's okay to fall, as long as you tuck your chin and roll. The first time I fell, I did a sort of reverse belly flop. Good times. Not. So, there's the fear. But my darling friend, Kathy, is trying to teach me how to act out of love and not out of fear. I have to take that lesson to the mat as well.

Life is a circle. Lessons from the mat extend into my 'real' life and lessons from the external extend into my REAL life: the inner life. I'm becoming my own support system. I'm seeking that inner connection with the Divine that won't change or fall apart or waiver when everything else does. I'm seeking a faith I've lost. It's there...like a diamond disguised as a lump of coal. I just have to keep digging.

Pressing On

This is dedicated to Katie Cooper who said she couldn't keep up with my yoga schedule anymore since I wasn't blogging. Friends find the best ways of kicking you in the butt when you need it.

No, I didn't die. I didn't quit Yoga, either. So why did I disappear for a month? Simple. I had to just 'be'. Sometimes, life gets hairy and you need to press on and work through it and NOT write about it. Nothing groundbreaking happened. I merely put distance in time between me and a month ago. That's one reason. The other reason is that I got a case of the Leo-lazies. The same Lionness within that tries to manage the jungle, the same one with the drive to conquer and devour, the same one with boundless energy who hates wasting time needed a break. So, I sat back on my haunches for a while and just rested. Only in the last week did I rest my body because of a little annoyance called a cold. But the greater rest was for my brain. The dreams have calmed themselves, meaning my subconscious has moved to a place of acceptance and I've been able to sleep. I've watched cartoons and played basketball and had dance parties with the three year old light of my life. I've petted my dogs and snuggled with my cats.

And I went to a Flogging Molly concert with my two dear Kathleens. My biggest fear is going insane. I'm not afraid to throw that out there. It used to be losing people. But I've realized that's inevitable and out of my control. So, it fell from its rank as number one fear. I can control my own sanity. I can control what I let have an effect on my sanity. But I am still my worst enemy and greatest defender. I say all of this because Flogging Molly has a song called, "If I Ever Leave This World Alive". In it are the lyrics, "So in a word don't shed a tear; I'll be here when it all gets weird." That has been mine and Katie's promise to each other since we first became Flogging Molly obsessed. It's a song of friendship. It's a promise that she has kept time and time again with her steady presence and support. It's been a really hard 5 months and I've come as close to insanity as I ever hope to come, but I don't know that. We never know the depths we'll encounter. So, as we're screaming out the lyrics to this song in the midst of hundreds of other bouncing fans, Katie elbowed me. And sang, "So when in doubt, just call my name; just before you go insane". I'm a talker. That's obvious. I came out of the womb talking and I'll go to the grave talking. But some people say more with an elbow than we talkers could ever find the words for.

So, that's the life part of this blog. Now, for the Yoga part. I missed a week...one little week. I hated to do it but I was sick and couldn't breathe. I did what I never do and nursed myself until I got better. In that week, my left side completely locked up. My neck froze. Monday, I was blind most of the morning because everything was so pinched. So I splurged even more and sought out a lovely massage therapist at Fuller School. And she reminded my neck it was supposed to move in several directions, not just one. She was convinced that my week off the Yoga mat was no doubt the main reason that my body decided it was Fort Knox. Dang it.

I returned to Yoga Tuesday night, to an overly obviously painful Bliss class. I discovered I can no longer sustain happy baby pose. My left hip will not move the way it did two weeks ago. Amazing. My muscles trembled, refused to stretch and fought me every breath of the way. I should probably be discouraged that one week away can make this much difference. In some ways, it felt like a starting over. But I'm Irish. And the harder something fights against me, the harder I fight back. And in this case, I'm fighting myself. I'm fighting the part of me that wants to do what that doctor said all those years ago and 'accept that there are certain things that I can't do anymore'. That option is always in my head. Sometimes, I would like to say, "You see, I can't do that because I have this disease." That's one part of me. But the other part --the rolling fields of green and stone fences part-- champions emphatically that I have the disease. IT DOES NOT HAVE ME. This is a battle that is daily waged. And most days the fighting me emerges victorious. The days it doesn't are bleak but they can only last 24 hours (roughly since the earth's axis has apparently shifted and we have a millisecond less daylight each day thanks to recent earthquakes.) But the sun always rises again and so do I.

I tried Angela's Flow class last night for the first time. "If you can handle Diane's Monday night class, you can handle mine," that's what she said. So I puffed up my chest and I said, "I can do it." Did I forget that Diane's Monday night class kicks my butt? Sure, I make it to the end. But I make it in a sling surrounded by a puddle of sweat. What PART of me thought I could handle a full-on flow class? Especially the second day back after really 10 days gone. (I'm making this sound better for myself now so I seem less pathetic. But we all know...) I should've seen it as an omen when Angela came over to my mat before class began as I sat calmly reading a book and warned me that this wasn't a multi-level class. It was a flow class. Yes, the same Angela from the beginning of the paragraph. So, then, I'm thinking, 'shite...I'm here now. It's not like I can leave.' Somehow humility always manages to rear its ugly little sustaining head. Yes, sometimes you have to be taken down a couple of notches but it was nothing short of pride that kept me on that mat. Fast forward 30 minutes into class. I'm hanging in there (literally), making imperfection look like an art form. I'm in downward facing dog (the best chance you have to throw up in a yoga class). Angela sits next to me and I'm thinking, 'I'm about to get called out here and she's doing it quietly so it must be really bad.' She says, 'Do you know that when you're in upward facing dog, your knees are supposed to be up off the mat?' Noooooooooooo. Hopefully, she wasn't thinking...look at that lazy arse with her knees on the mat...and gave me the benefit of the doubt that I just didn't know what I was doing. Because later in the class when my knees were on the mat, it was out of general necessity and not due to lack of knowledge.

Last night was really a plank class disguised as a flow class. Plank and I are not friends. We don't go to the same parties, drink the same cocktails, read the same books. No, normally we're just aware of each other's annoying presence in the room. But last night I got to know plank and all of its cousins on a deeply spiritual level: regular plank, one-legged plank, side plank, backwards plank; walk the dang plank. Really. Really? And not once, either. Not let's-try-this-and-see-how-it-works-out-for-you. NO. Like six times. I literally had to wipe the sweat from my face in order to see. And that's only part of it...throw in about 24 lunges or so and some warriors and a tree and an arm balance (which I opted out of) and we'll call it a night. Right? Wrong. Handstand. Headstand. Can't stand.

I walked in stiff. Long winter (real winter with actual sustained cold temperatures) = unhappy, arthritic joints. I left a Jello Jiggler. I left soggy. The left half of my body went numb during the night. If you look up the word 'sore' on dictionary.com today, you'll see they have my picture posted. But guess what? I did it. And I lived to tell about it. And it was awesome. And I can't wait to do it again. I enjoyed it so much, I'm bringing Katie next week. Last night was absolute, concrete proof that Yoga is what is right for my life. This path is the right one for all my bodies: the mental, physical and spiritual varieties. And as Angela says, one I cannot stray far from. That much is obvious. So, I must practice on in search of a sound body and a still mind. A still mind is a sane mind. And as I press forward, I'll do so with a thankful heart for those little 'call-outs' that strengthen me, those kicks in the butt that encourage me and especially the elbows to the side...that sustain me.

Anything but Bliss

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Back on schedule at the studio. Samfrantastic, to quote Henry Fonda. But I had a panic attack today. First one in two months. So, I went for a walk in the snow. That was Diane's influence. And I knew that if I could just make it through the next 20 minutes, the panic would be gone and the afternoon could resume. That was Har Sharon's wisdom. Some people never know what impact they have. If I'm aware of it, I'll let you know. And I've pretty much always done that. From Fayne Pearson at the Learning Center at VWC who changed my advisor and changed my life to the guy at the nail place who bought me a deep friend banana; if you've impacted my life, I like to be able to thank you.

So, the hips are where women carry their emotions. And the jaws are connected to the hips in terms of tension. Basket-case weekend. Hips almost immovable. Jaws locked. Bliss class is described as a hip-opening class. And I go to two of them because of multiple hip injuries and a life filled with grief; it's a weak spot. And weak spots need to be strengthened and no better way to strengthen than to keep at it. But in doing that, I subject myself to an inordinate amount of pain and by the end of class, it shows. I will never win a hand of poker. I'd draw an Ace and crack a smile and it'd be all over. All emotions felt are displayed on this visage.

It isn't normal things that hurt, like muscles or tight hamstrings. The biggest thing holding me back is my hands. I can't flatten them...almost but no cigar. I can't put my weight into the underside of the knuckles and in the webbing of the fingers. My fingers don't bend that way yet. So, the weight goes into my wrists and I tire in the position quicker than I should. Frustrating. I stretch my hands every day. And sometimes my knuckles swell because I've aggravated the inflammation so much. But I want this and I want it bad. I'm not complaining. I'm just stating fact. I can type 90 words a minute with almost no errors. But I can't grip. The strength in my fingers is minimal. Writing for extended periods of time causes cramping and fatigue. And playing the piano is almost laughable. We're talking 8 years of arthritis build-up. But I expect to train my hands how to have strength and to stretch and to support my weight properly. I expect them to be what they're intended to be. And they will, but tonight, they aren't there yet.

My posture is improving greatly and my left leg has less tendency to turn in. During ankle rotations tonight on the left side, I felt a fire burning in my foot. I don't know if it was energy trying to reverse years of crookedness or if, by chance, I was causing neurological damage. As fatalist as I can be for about five minutes at a time, I'm more often than not going to choose the positive alternative. I don't think that makes me an optimist. I'm just expectant. Someday, I will stand straight with straight feet and strong leg muscles that don't allow my knees to even think about hyper-extending. That will happen.

As we lay in shavasana tonight, Angela sat behind my head. I could feel her energy there and I immediately became emotional. She lay an eye pillow across my eyes and massaged my head. I don't know if it was a feeling of concern that I felt emanating from her or if it was just how much the time invested means to me, but I wept silently. And I'm still overcome. I'm drained and exhausted, but I feel like healing is taking place. At least the door to healing has been opened. Some people have to come into our lives just to introduce us to other people. Not everyone stays and not everyone has a huge impact. But they can lead us to those who do. I would not have found Angela's studio had it not been recommended to me in passing conversation two years ago. And I may never be able to count how many times walking through those doors on November 1st, 2009 impacts my life. But everything that came before moved me toward this moment: this opening, this learning, these challenges. And everything that comes after now will have been shaped by every breath, every asana and every act of caring. My question is: how good can life get if these are the building blocks?

DVD Desperation

Monday, February 1, 2010

I nearly went insane this past weekend. I forgot where I put my bag of tools. Snowed in and no yoga class. Unable to see out of my own head long enough to cope. It wasn't the weather. It just was. Couldn't breathe...constant state of panic...not sleeping. Just trudging through, trying not to let my brains melt out my ears. It may sound like an over-dramatic description. But it's as accurate as I can be. I felt like I had a lab rat running circles inside my brain with a video projector. Visions, images, memories...you name it. Couldn't focus. Couldn't eat. The only rational thought I could muster was to send an email to Diane. So, that's what I did. And I asked for help...something I could do to get out of the crazy and back on a path. And she was gracious enough to respond. And not only did she know where I'd hidden that darn tool bag, but she added several for the next time. And between her advice and my dear friends reminding me to pray and cracking jerky jokes that made me laugh, I made it through the weekend alive and mentally intact. There isn't a word big enough to express my gratitude for my support system. There just isn't. But someday I hope to have every volume of the Oxford English Dictionary and I'll begin a search for the word.

I love Monday nights specifically because of Diane's flow class. No matter how difficult, I always feel stronger when I leave. So part of what helped me button myself up and make it through Monday was the possibility class wouldn't be cancelled. And in fact, it wasn't. Just moved to a time I couldn't go, which made sense because of the weather. I understood that. But I still cried a little. But then, it was time for Ursula to take matters into her own tentacles. I pulled out a Seane Corne DVD I've had for years, put down the mat in my home office and set about the practice.

The last time I attempted this DVD, I got 20 minutes into it and collapsed to the floor. It's an hour and 10 minutes long. That was a number of years ago. But last night, I made it through and could've gone on. I wasn't as challenged as in real life yoga classes. I know the energy was right because my little brother was in there trying to do downward facing dog underneath me, making me laugh by looking at my upside down. And all three cats filtered in and out trying to help, yeah, help. Little Bit clawed my hair during shavasana and then, stretched out on my knee pad mat. He has been my inspiration for the last five years. He only has three legs but he runs faster than the other cats. He's missing the back leg, but he still springs up and 'mountain' climbs with his front paws to get where he wants to go. And he's the sweetest by far. Wild when he came to me at 12 weeks and 11 ounces. But loving to the point of adoring now. He's amazing because he was brutally attacked and had to give up a part of himself. He not only adapted and endured but persevered and has a heart full of love. He's a cat and cats are supposed to live primarily by instinct. I am human and I have a higher consciousness. But something tells me I should take lessons from my cat.

Conscious Relaxation

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

After a week of inner panic, I entered breathing class. Let me just say that I look forward to every class, every aspect of yoga. I don't have to be convinced or dragged. I don't get home and think, 'well, maybe I'll skip this one.' Nope. Never crosses my mind. But not all classes are pleasant and some are more difficult than others. It scares me to go inside my head, inside myself. It shouldn't. I've been stuck there for a long time. But to really take a long, hard look at the inner workings...sheesh. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to medicate rather than meditate. But meditation is what I've chosen and therefore must pursue.

So, I set my intention. And this time I asked for strength. I know I am strong. I know I am strong more than I am a lot of things. But I felt the need for a specific kind of strength, one I couldn't even name. It wasn't my conscious mind asking for strength; it was my heart. I had a hard time controlling the breath in this session. The innate breath was stronger and took over. It was interesting to cease control of something in my life. Amazing that I actually try to control my breath or more accurately restrict my breath. And when I let go, the breath actually pushed into the upper breathing region and released my throat chakra. My chest burned. And so did my throat. I wonder how long it's been since I've breathed in that area. I'm sure I did once. Is it only recent tragedy that restricted it or has it been restricted for years? I lean toward the latter explanation.

Har Sharon warned that I may be more opinionated and vocal than usual. I laughed. I suspect you're laughing too. But with this desire to vocalize comes the challenge to be mindful. And with this, a challenge to see how creatively I can find ways to relax. I laughed at this, too. I'm about as relaxed as a slug in a salt mine. You might as well challenge me to take a vow of silence or to fast. It's strange to think you have to make an effort to relax. But it will certainly take a concerted effort.

Yoga or Bust

Multi-level flow class w/Diane

I truly must be the luckiest person on earth. Every time something bad happens, 80 good things pop up that NEVER would've happened without that ONE bad thing. It doesn't take away from the pain or the suffering or the downright misery caused by the bad thing, but if you have to endure it to get to the good things...well, then you just have to. I am so thankful for the tight-knit yoga community I drifted into and how warmly they have welcomed me in. Blessed.

Tonight was nothing short of triumphant. I did three hand-stand preps, a bridge, wheel and attempted ALL the arm balance postures. I say attempted because I was only marginally successful once. But check out that wheel. Slight panic when I couldn't come out of it, but I needed the rational voice (Diane) and the belly laugh that ensued. I was so darn proud of myself just for being in wheel pose without assistance that I stopped paying attention and could NOT figure out a way down. I love the humility in that. Talk about balance: pride and humility in the same pose. Where else but yoga can you find such an immediate return? And it is a return: there is as much to be learned from being proud as there is from eating a little humble pie. Being a Leo, I know a lot about both.

I went in tonight after the worst Monday I've had in a long time. Angry. Sad. On the verge of panic. Distraught. I could probably think of a thousands feelings going through me tonight. Almost as if they could feel the need, my yoginis started interacting with me. Jackie keeps me updated on her daughter's ambition to attend Virginia Wesleyan this coming fall. Such a simple thing, but did so much for my sick heart. We don't realize the gifts we give each other just by speaking and smiling...engaging each other. Then, the lady with the energetic smile behind me noticed the pad I use under my knees which Angela recommended and I bought from Betsey at Peace, Love, Balance in Hilltop (free plug). The pad has revolutionized my practice. So, I was able to reach outside of my head and share something wonderful with a classmate. Tremendous help.

Two things deepened the physical practice for me: one is to focus on drawing the quadriceps up into the hips to engage the thigh and stretch the hamstring and lengthen the leg. Finally clicked in my head. Downward facing dog became different. Plank...different. Mountain pose, lunge...you name it...that one focus changed it all for me tonight. The other was to envision pressing a gas pedal in order to engage the foot. Amazing. Something so simple (or so complex) and the brain just gets it.

I stand straighter. I walk with more surety (striving for grace and expecting miracles because it will take them); I sit up. It IS a yogic lifestyle: I practice tree and forward fold to put on my tennis shoes; mountain pose with my feet flexed while I brush my teeth. Several times a day, I stretch my toes and my fingers. And my hands hurt. But where they're headed is a beautiful place.

I remember 8 years ago when I was sick too well most days. At rock bottom, I couldn't walk, chew or hold a pen because the arthritis had set in so fast and so furiously that everything was locked in a mountain of pain. Something as basic as chewing food was not an option for me during that very brief time. You talk about humbling. I couldn't wash my own hair. I had to be lifted in and out of vehicles...so emaciated after a 35 pound drop in weight. But the absolute worst was not being able to write. My hands were turned in and swollen twice their normal size. I just thought to myself: what if I am never able to hold a pen again? How many years did I waste? What more could I have done if I had known this was going to happen? But we can't rewind. (Thank God). We can only go forward. I didn't make any bargains with God. I didn't make any promises. But somehow, I was granted a second chance. Patience through long-suffering. Wisdom through adversity.

So the only thing holding me back from handstand...is my hands. They aren't quite free enough to provide the 'footing' necessary. But you can't move forward unless you're looking in the direction you want to go. Oh...and update...this child did chaturanga ALL throughout class. No more knees/chest/chin. It's chaturanga time with the big girls! I think maybe I was afraid to even try it before. Pft. Enough of this fear! We fear success ten times more than we fear failure. Especially me. I'm used to heartache, pain, failure. I'm steeped in it like Darjeeling. But success? Faith, Bejaysus and Begorrah! NOT SUCCESS! What will I do if I actually set myself up for joy instead of sorrow? Well, we're going to find out. The wickets are set and the object is NOT to peg out. I'm going to be entirely present for each strike of the mallet against the ball.

Conscious Panic

Wednesday, January 20, 2010: Conscious Breathing

The Breathwork tonight was divided into three sections: Breathing. Relaxation. Meditation. And we began by establishing our intention. Har Sharon described it as a pebble of intention being dropped into a pool and the ripples created as the energy we would strive to experience. Every intention has energy. Tonight, I am Peace.

Breathing: we worked more in depth on opening the three breathing spaces. For the most part, I feel like I can push the breath throughout the diaphragm, up into the throat and down into the pelvic bowl without much resistance. An effortless effort as Har Sharon describes it. But the middle region around my upper rib cage seems stuck and unwilling to expand. I don't try to force it and just accept that it isn't ready to expand at this time. Next week, however...we learn which breathing spaces govern which emotions. I'm looking forward to this. We're supposed to approach the breath with childlike enthusiasm and an absence of judgment, trying to understand less and experience more. That concept is so foreign to my analytical brain and so welcome to my frustrated heart. So in an effort to follow my heart, I'm not judging. I experienced all sorts of tingling and twitching, energy surging in my body as I awakened the breath. Fascinating. There's no other word for it. To think that you can create energy in your body just by breathing, by training your breath...flabbergasting.

Relaxation: I must admit that I had a hard time focusing during this phase. I think I was ready to phase out, which is a state that resembles sleep but isn't quite there. The idea is to remain present throughout the entire practice, to remain aware so that you can learn from each experience. Each time I started to drift, I was able to bring myself back so I consider that, in itself, a victory. And I'm learning to relax, which is beautiful. I'm learning not to clench my jaw. I'm learning how to relax my face and shoulders. I can't put a price tag on how valuable that is to me.

Meditation: This is where I almost lost it. I felt a panic rising up in my chest. I was so far inside of myself that at the same time I was aware of my breath, I was afraid that I would not take the next breath. So much fear. I see a pattern. The fear is not death. The fear is loss of independence. Death is the ultimate independence and doesn't scare me, but not being to take care of myself -- terrifying. So, I'm laying there breathing and fearing that I won't continue to breathe and I'll end up brain dead from lack of oxygen and yet, I can't panic. It was a physical impossibility. The desire was there, but I lacked ability. It was the strangest sensation. I actually felt myself scream somewhere deep inside, but nothing happened. Finally, we came out of meditation and I had an overwhelming sense of calm which has remained the rest of tonight.

More talk about dreams tonight. Har Sharon agrees that dreams, especially nightmares have a message...a lesson I'm trying to teach myself and by keeping track of them, I can establish a pattern. Well, I agreed to do this yesterday. And apparently scared my subconscious into silence. I'm sure I dreamed but I don't remember it. Not even a millisecond or a color. I woke up as if I had seen nothing in my dream life. Maybe that's a test of resolve. Maybe the subconscious needed preparation time now that it thinks I'm going to pay attention. Newsflash: I was paying attention before. I just wasn't trying to connect the dots. Lalalala.

I received a message from Cecelia today, a beautiful message that lifted my heart. But in it she queried about the balance in my practice. Am I doing too much of one and too little of another? So, that's my quest...balance. And I'll get there, one pebble of intention at a time.