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.

Bliss of Tears

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Question: Why did I pick winter to start this physical/spiritual/mental journey?

Question: Why do I continue when it only seems to get harder instead of easier?

Answer: Never in my life have I done anything the easy way. Why start now? I'm not even sure I believe in the easy way. I was raised to believe that if it was worth doing, it was worth doing right. And anything worthwhile came as a result of hard work and patience.

That said, I get so frustrated with how hard this is. And how much it hurts. It just plain hurts. There's no way to dip that in chocolate and sprinkle peanuts on it. And the stupidest things hurt: like when Angela says to flatten your hands on the mat and spread your fingers out. I might as well be Wolverine and have metal shooting out of my skin. We do hip rotation lying flat on our backs and all I can hear is bone on bone. How can I focus on my breath when all I hear is grinding bone? I know that sounds terrible and possibly melodramatic, but that's what it is. And the same is true for the knee and the ankle. Those joints are like a load-bearing wall with termites. And I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if I sink too far into the pain, I'll break a hip or a knee. I don't know how realistic that fear is. But it's there and I acknowledge it. I know yoga isn't supposed to hurt, but that's just part of my practice.

It was near the end of the practice tonight that I had an "emotional release" otherwise known as bursting into tears. Pain doesn't make me cry. Frustration does, but I wasn't frustrated. We were in a back bend and ever since the restorative class that focused on the spine, back bends push me to the point of tears. And it's uncontrollable. Just rolls out. Cecelia said working with the spine opens up many channels in the body. So mine must be the crying channel. I couldn't have picked Westerns? I love Westerns. Go ahead and make my day, little sister, but enough with this crying business.

Angela challenged us tonight that dreams are the subconscious mind's way of telling us more about ourselves. I'm screwed. Nightmares for three months. What exactly is my subconscious trying to tell me about ME? The idea of a dream journal scares the bejaysus right out of me. It might as well be a poisonous snake spitting flaming roaches at me. And I know I HAVE to keep one. Because I feel it. I feel drawn to it. I have to know. I have to jump in there and find out regardless of what I might find. I'm not sure I'm brave enough. But somehow I know that if I keep ignoring them, they'll keep coming. And they'll drive me insane. And insanity isn't an option. Crazy? Sure. Crazy is fine. I embrace crazy, but insane is just too far.

My hope is this: if I push through the pain hard enough and long enough, I won't break. I'll bend. I'll get to the other side of the pain and find healing. And next winter, I'll have some other superpower besides metal hands.

Holy Shavasana Batman!

Monday, January 18, 2010

Multi-level Flow Class w/Diane

Amazing. The harder the class, the more I dig it. I left as a puddle of sweat. Yeah, gross but whatever. We focused on the side body, opening the intercostal muscles and stretching the obliques. I moved my mat to the center of the room. All right, I admit: it was really only because a fellow yogi took the mirror side. I like the mirror so I can see what I'm doing wrong and fix it or attempt to fix it, but no go. So, I moved directly in front of Diane. Change is good. I stopped obsessing so much about how the posture "looks" and more on how it feels. And that proved to me that I don't quite know yet how a pose is "supposed" to feel and I need to work on that.

The funniest moment in the class came when Diane was trying to help me fix Warrior 2: hips level, knee bent, arms extended. So she leveled the hips. The knee popped forward. She moved the knee back. The hips went out of balance. "Well, that's something you're going to have to work on," she said. And I thought to myself, 'should I be laughing in the middle of class?' Left hip is crooked. Left knee is crooked. They should cooperate with each other, but don't. So, I must teach them to get along.

When given an option between Chaturanga and Knees-Chest-Chin in a flow, I never choose

Chaturanga. I think that my arms and shoulders are not strong enough to support my upper

body weight. And while I'm busy trying to survive this Monday night flow, Diane stops by and

suggests that I lower between knees and chest and chin at a much slower pace to increase my

strength to someday be able to do Chaturanga. NOVEL. I wasn't even thinking forward. So

focused on survival that I forgot to live. So, I followed her advice and it was hard. But it's

something I can do to improve. Sometimes, I think by just continuing to come I'm going to

magically get better at the things that are difficult. But that isn't enough. I need to take all of

those suggestions and put them into practice. I can't go through the motions physically. I'm

not going through the motions mentally and emotionally.

So, I need to kick it up a notch.

And I can't express how grateful I am for every correction, every tip, every gift of experience.

Beyond words.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Bliss Class w/Diane

Another wall class! Now, when I'm at home, I look at my walls differently. They support me.

Conscious Breathing

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Conscious Breathing class w/Har Sharon

I knew a little bit about what to expect after taking the Breathworks class at the Yoga Conference, but I was still unsure. Immediately upon entering Har Sharon's studio, I felt the energy...positive, sweet energy. Her presence is reassuring and calming. I felt instantly at ease, which was nice. I'm not at ease around many people.

The class was simple: dedicated time for observing the breath, for exploring different areas of the breathing mechanism and how the body reacts when it is asked to breathe in a different manner than what is automatic. I came to this class intent on clearing mind clutter. My brain never stops and I'm tired. I want peace. I want at least 8 hours a day where I'm not trying to solve the world's problems and I think I deserve that. So, I'm in search of it. Will I find it in the 4-6 weeks this class offers? Possibly. I'm optimistic. And I'm dedicated to finding the tools I need.

As for the aftermath of the first breathing section: deep relaxation and then, wicked nightmares. I guess when you start to dig, you have to be prepared for the muck.

Bliss Class w/Angela: 6:00PM to 8:00PM

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

I walked into class tonight at the height of stress. Bad day in Bedrock. But surprisingly, it didn't follow me across the floor to where I set up my mat. Maybe it's the soft lighting, soft voices, soft music of the studio all in contrast with the harshness of Corporate America that melts anxiety away. I don't know. But never did I need a quiet practice more than tonight.

The class was small enough that we could practice with the wall and we started out with our backs on the floor and our feet up the wall. I hyper-extend my knees and my elbows. A chiropractor once told me that I have flexi-joints. My knee caps float, I pop and crack spontaneously...none of this however in such a way that I'm abnormally flexible. Just enormously clumsy. So, I tend not to be able to straighten my legs properly because I throw my knees too far back. Taking Angela's advice, I've started engaging my quadriceps each time I feel like I'm hyper-extending to try to get used to how it feels to stand up straight. Propping my legs against the wall helped me visualize what's going on in the legs because my knees can't go beyond the wall. It's interesting when you've been doing something to yourself for 28 years. It's the little things we don't pay attention to that have such a big impact.

A pose that is quickly becoming my favorite is Pigeon: one knee bent out in front and the other leg straight out behind you. With all these hip-opening poses, I can definitely see the damage the car accidents have done. The left hip is twisted for a start and was jammed twice at high speed. But I don't believe it has to stay that way. It has already opened considerably since October. I just keep talking to it (motivating it...yelling at it) and breathing into it. I just don't accept that how things are is how they have to stay. It seems that everything in yoga is aimed at meeting my specific needs. I'm sure everyone feels that way because we each seek our own brand of healing. Tonight we used the wall to open up the shoulders. The left shoulder was also jammed. Six months of chiropractic/massage therapy didn't unjam it. And occasionally, the arm still goes numb in the middle of the night. But after tonight, I have another tool for my bag. Walk the arm up the wall to 12 o'clock then to 11 and 10 and 9. Crazy pain. But a stretch I haven't tried. One, however, that I think is essential to my practice.

I should mention that I don't take medication. None. Not even Tylenol. A lot of people with Arthritis and Ulcerative Colitis are on medication and need to be. I have been blessed. I am able to control the diseases with diet, exercise and nutritional supplements. According to the doctors, I'm supposed to be taking 9 Asacol a day to the detriment of my hair, kidneys and liver. So, I took the risk and stopped taking it. But I knew I had to drastically change my lifestyle. That's why I've given up meat and obsess over fiber, why I eat apples for the Boron they contain. I'm a health nut because I lost my health once. And I know that you never fully get it back. But what you do get is a greater appreciation for what you do have and what you are able to do.

My quads are wicked sore from Camel Flow last night and even more so from Downward Facing Dog up the wall tonight. But I'm getting better at toe stretch. I can almost flatten my hands on the mat. My hamstrings are opening ever-so-slightly. My heart is opening and releasing and apparently that spontaneous angry cry session last night over a momentarily unattainable back bend was a good thing. It was a release from deep within. I like that explanation a lot better. So, I'll go with it. And I see evidence of it. Tonight when I closed my eyes, I saw a very strange image in my head when I was dedicating my practice to the uplifting of another human being. It was a shadow running very fast and almost throwing itself to the ground. It was so tangible, I almost felt my head move with it. If my eyes had been open, I would've gotten dizzy. I don't know what it was or what it means. I just observed it and let it be. This in itself is a victory. I analyze everything. As Ellen Burstyn said in Divine Secrets of the Yaya Sisterhood, "I chew on something until all the flavor's gone out of it and then, I stick it in my hair." This too can change. Can't is not a word I embrace this year (and maybe ever again). I'd rather think I can and be proven wrong than think I can't and be proven right. The me of six months ago wouldn't have thought I'd be contemplating handstands and balances and back bends much less attempting and semi-accomplishing them. But the me of today thinks that _____________ is possible. I just have to fill in that blank.

Multi-Level Prana Flow w/Diane

Monday, January 11, 2010

Everything today was hard. Just plain hard. I don't know if it's the consistent cold or if it was the lack of Yoga between Saturday and Monday. I just don't know. My balance was off. My strength was off. And worst of all, I started crying when I couldn't do a back bend by myself. Are you serious? And see, I was optimistic because I figured out the whole food deal. I found the ProBar...a raw bar with enough calories and protein to get me all the way from 4:30 to 8:30 when I can have my Panera salad without making me sick during the practice. That's a real triumph. I eat like every 20 seconds. Okay, maybe 30. So, trying to go four hours with no food has overwhelmed me. Well, thank you, Mr. ProBar; you rocked my world today.

My knees did not want to function. That was the first problem. They kept clicking and catching. The left one is bone-on-bone. I get that, but I don't accept it. I don't accept that arthritis is my lot. Call it denial. And maybe it is. But like a parent with a child who isn't living up to his full potential, I will always expect more from that knee that most of the time it wants to give. Problem #2: Cramping hips. Didn't think it was possible? Oh, yes. Twist a certain way and I get a big old Charlie Horse. So, I have to come out of whatever pose and go back into it and come out and...you get the picture.

Strike three was the back bend. We moved to the wall and started with bridge pose, supported on blocks. NO problems. Then, the ultimate back bend. I've always been able to do it...always felt like my shoulders were being ripped off, but I ALWAYS did it. I lifted my hips and arced back and could not push myself up with my arms. I'm at the peak of frustration by this point and my already fragile emotions are not helping. So I succumb to tears. Diane to the rescue! She supported me and... I should stop there. She supported me. Period. That's a good sentence. I did the back bend. But at that point, the back bend didn't matter anymore. What mattered was the support. We aren't always going to do what we've always been able to. And we aren't always going to get what we want, but if we have support...we can try again.

I'm a pain. Because now...I want to fight harder. I want to get back in there tomorrow and try harder and focus more and push. Sometimes, I wish I could be less than I am. But it isn't possible. This time, it's the Irish in me. As long as we're breathing, we fight to be better...whatever better is. So, I'm thankful for tonight. I wouldn't want this whole process to be easy on me. Is life worthwhile without the struggle? I don't think so. I don't invite struggle, but the harder the work, the greater the appreciation for the job well done. My family always tells me that trials are character building. And I always say that I'm going to end up with multiple personalities by the time we're done building. But by the end of this year, at least one of those personalities is going to be able to do the ultimate back bend by herself.

Restorative Yoga w/Cecelia Rice at the Space Above Yoga Studio in Ghent 11:00AM-1:00PM

Saturday, January 9, 2010

I woke up out of a nightmare Saturday morning. Typically the word nightmare calls to mind visions of scary monsters or flying monkeys, but those aren't MY nightmares. They say we dream about what we fear worst or desire most, the first being the nightmare and the latter being the sweet dream. What turns a sweet dream into a nightmare is when what you desire most is not attainable. Those are the nightmares I've had for going on three months. So, that was the start to my day.

I tried, but I did not enter the Space Above with an open mind. My mind was complete clutter. I was, however, amazed by the studio itself. It's a beautiful studio: large wooden doors, warm colors and natural light coming in through several windows. I was uneasy, though, being in a different studio with people I hadn't seen before. Even if I don't talk to people, their faces are familiar and comforting. I know Cecelia and her face is always kind and comforting so that helped, but it wasn't 'home'.

We focused on the spine: Leo's problem area. Oh, Leo. I have arthritis all up and down my spine which is why this class intrigued me...a chance to ease the vertebrae apart and massage the organs. I enjoyed the class from a physical standpoint. It wasn't difficult and the stretches and twists felt good. But even more than Yin Yoga, Restorative is about holding a posture for long periods of time, the difference being that in Restorative you are fully supported by blankets and blocks and bolsters so that you can rest. And then, you're left with your mind and your heart and stillness.

I know why we as a culture never stop: why we involve our kids in softball and soccer and piano lessons and cheer-leading and everything else under the sun all at the same time. It's because we fear the stillness. Pain and suffering and anxiety aren't nearly as scary when we're moving. We just sort of carry them around with us in our pockets and never really address them. Sometimes, they get in the way, but never in a direct way. They interfere in subtle ways by clouding our judgment, helping us build walls, keeping us from connecting with each other. The stillness is a scary place.

And I haven't been any different. The busier I stay, the saner I stay. But Restorative brings with it forced stillness. At one point, in forward supported fold, I felt ready to cry. But I knew if I started crying, I would start screaming. The emotions were that intense. So, I breathed. I listened to the music. I focused on sights and smells around me. I listened to the breath. The feeling didn't subside, but I distracted myself away from it long enough that I got through the class. Everything we do has merit, if we learn something from it...if we move forward with that knowledge. I appreciate that two hours Saturday and I appreciate Cecelia's sweet heart for sharing it with us. My goal for next time is not to require the distraction away from the emotion for as long. There will be a next time and a next time and a next time. I'm going to keep coming back to the stillness until I can be still. And then, I'll see what else is in there besides pain.

5:30 PM Bliss Class with Diane.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

By Thursday at 5:30, I'm in need of something that resembles bliss. I look forward to Yoga all day. And Yoga class days are much better than non-Yoga class days. And what I find on Thursdays typically is four or five smiling faces and a place of peace and non-judgment. A 'healing' space as Angela calls it. And it is a healing place. I walk in and leave all the junk at the door.

At first, my mind is still cluttered with thoughts and fears and worries and sadness, but then, I hear, "If your mind starts to wander, just focus on the breath." And I do. I try to imagine what the oxygen that I'm drawing in is doing. Where is it going? What is it giving the most benefit? I've had asthma since I was little so I know what a shallow breath is. Now, I only see asthma-like symptoms if I run or have a panic attack. In 2003, I hiked up the 5.0 mile Waihee Ridge Trail on Maui, six months after my arthritis diagnosis, six months after I hadn't been able to walk, six months after I hadn't been able to hold a pen. It was, however only 4 months after my introduction to Yoga. I used diaphragmatic breathing all the way up that ridge and avoided an asthma attack. Last night, in the initial quiet of the bliss practice, I was on Maui again (not nearly as warm though).

Bliss is a hip-opening class. Never had this become more apparent than in FROG pose. Yes, people. Frog. Picture one. Let's picture a nice tree frog and not a poison dart frog or a fat bull frog. Let me impose on your "essence of frog" and bring to mind a neon green tree frog. So there's a reason the pose bears the same name. One thing I've learned in the last few months is the more impossible something appears to be, the more you want it and the harder you'll work to get it. This is actually how I swim which is by extension why I was kicked out of the Virginia Beach Rec Center pool. Frogs are not welcome. Sorry guys. But the level of difficulty on dry land is much higher. However, I refuse not to try. I may fall or crack in a thousand places, but I will at least have tried. And you know what? I succeeded. I frogged.

I also managed to lunge and twist with my hands in prayer posture. Freaking amazing. On both sides...for as long as I was supposed to. Are you kidding me? There is a moment when I'm able to do something like that where I say, "oh my gosh, I just did that." And I am filled with wonder and amazement. I hope that I don't lose that moment. I want to get better and benefit more and more from the poses, but I hope I always have a sense of thrill.

I'm surrounded by such a sweet spirit in our Yoga studio. Hugh came over to tell me about a poetry reading tomorrow night in Portsmouth. I won't be able to attend, but how thoughtful. Doesn't know me from Eve but remembers enough to know that I write poetry. The atmosphere is in such contrast to my work-a-day world. So, I set about the task of figuring out how I can carry that with me, how I can breathe that kind of sweetness into the rest of my day, into the lives of the people around me. Mostly, I want to be able to give myself that sweetness when that old bitter taste comes into my mouth. At least I know when my mind starts to wander, I can bring it back to me one diaphragmatic breath at a time.

The Seeker

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Bliss Class with Angela

I have a new found appreciation for this wonder called Yin Yoga. We seek out the help that we need. I sought out Angela's studio because I couldn't breathe. Too much stress, devastation, whatever...the crap of daily life weighed so heavily that I couldn't get enough air into my lungs to sleep, to eat, to function. I knew there was strength inside of me. I had just lost my ability to tap into it. I was seeking healing from the inside out.

Listening to Angela explain Yin Yoga, I heard things like 'replenishing sinovial fluid' and 'massaging the joints'. I'm 28 years old. I've had this form of rheumatoid arthritis for 8 years. Statistics show that something like 60% of people with the disease are disabled after 10 years. So, the thought of having a tool at my disposal that can put back sinovial fluid where it has been lost is beautiful. Nothing short of miraculous to my mind. We seek the help we need. And we never know how our interests/passions are going to manifest and influence someone else. Angela's passion for Yin will directly affect my own desire to be in the 40%.

I carry with me a bag of tools: good nutrition, fitness, good friends, laughter. Yoga has been in this bag since 2002, since my first Yoga class at Virginia Wesleyan. But I always treated it like more of a sideline tool such as a planer, shaving off the rough edges when necessary. But now, Yoga is the Dewalt Combination Drill/Electric Screw Driver. It's packing power these days: digging into the places that need digging and locking in. It's the tool that supports all other tools. It's the drive. It was in the bag all the time. I just hadn't charged the battery.

Multi-level Flow Class led by Diane Malaspina:

Monday, January 4, 2010.

This is by far the most challenging class I'm taking right now. First, I haven't quite struck the food balance. If I eat less than two hours before class and then try all of those downward facing dogs...well, you get the picture. But then, if I don't eat I'm ready to gnaw the leather off my steering wheel trying to get to Panera after class. And sometimes, I'm afraid that other people can hear my stomach growling. Nice. I've tried a four o'clock snack. No good. The next step is a four o'clock MEAL. I'll see how that works out next week and maybe my fellow yogis won't think they're practicing with a shapeshifter who's about to emerge.

Physically, the class is challenging because it's constant movement. But I think that's my favorite part. I have to push myself. So many times during practice, my mind says, "you can't do that," or "that's too hard". And I have this inner conversation (read: argument). "Stop telling yourself that," and "Suck it up and do it." This fight was in full force during Warrior 3. The suck-it-up me lost during round one. Two car accidents at over 50 mph have done a fair amount of damage to the left hip so it needs a little more persuasion. So, I fell out of the position. Which made me mad. Not because I'm not 'perfect' in the pose. But because I don't like it when a weaker part of me wins out. I don't like to give in to pain or stiffness or anything that tries to hold me back from whatever it is that I want to achieve. So, we went into Warrior 3 with the right leg extended and I looked directly at the left foot, planted firmly into the mat. "You're going to do this," I said. And it did. I did! I don't know how it looked, but I did it and I did a little 'yuss!' when I came out of it. It's the smallest of victories that mean the most.

The next triumph was handstand prep...hands grounded on the mat and feet up the wall. First lift the right leg up...then the left. And again. Three times I managed it. I said, "I'm going to do this." And Diane said, "This is your year." Sometimes, we have no idea how much weight our words carry. And sometimes we do. So, I embrace that prophecy. This is my year. My year for handstand, for one and my year for a series of small triumphs I can't even fathom.

So, when I say my Monday night class is challenging, I mean it in a good way. I feel challenged to be better.

Yoga Conference

Saturday, January 2, 2010:

I signed up at the last minute for an all-day yoga conference at the Sheraton Hotel Oceanfront. It was colder than should be allowed in Virginia Beach and I hate the cold. Cold usually keeps me inside. But at 6:00 on a Saturday, I bounded out of bed and prepared.

8:00AM: Yin Yoga with Angela Phillips. We were in a modified ballroom at the hotel, yoga mats in place. Yin yoga requires you to hold poses between 3 and 20 minutes. We started with 3. And 3 can feel like 20. Angela chose poses that would detoxify the liver since the holidays and eating have likely taxed that purpose-driven organ. I've been steadily committed to Yoga since November 1st. Most weeks, I go 3 to 4 times. But this was my first yin practice which allows you to sink into the joints and the ligaments, places we don't normally reach in yang yoga which is more muscular in nature. My joints need to change their outlook on life. And yin yoga is going to help them find their way.

10:30AM: Ayurveda with Kim Austin-Peterman. Let me just say that I have been looking for an Ayurvedic Practitioner since 2003... possibly? They are few and far between. I read a book in college on Ayurveda (a naturopathic Indian science of life) that focuses on treating the system and not the symptom and I was instantly fascinated. So, I began looking for a practitioner. No avail. Saturday, I got a two-hour crash course and am looking forward to a consultation in the near future. What an awesome find for me! The idea of balancing my nutrition and my activities to support my character and my natural body is something I have searched for and strived for since I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis and Enteropathic Arthritis my junior year of college. We make no random decisions.

Break for lunch: Table for one overlooking the ocean. Hot tea, Lobster Chowder and a Greek Salad. Unbelievably cold. But enjoyable all the same. I'm not opposed to eating alone. I'm not uncomfortable with it. What better way on this day to be mindful of the food I was eating and the power of the ocean to my left. I had hoped there might be an opportunity at lunch to mix and mingle and learn from others at the workshop, but there was much to be learned in my hour of solitude.

2:00PM Discovering Your Authentic Self: Breathwork and Chakra Class with Gabrielle Gerard. Two hours of guided breathing with brief lecture in between. There are few words to describe this: amazing is one of them. I learned to breathe with my entire diaphragm, expanding my body from my abdomen to my throat. The lady next to me fell asleep. When Gabrielle said two hours was not enough time to scratch the surface of Breathwork, I thought...sure. Ha! Two hours was two minutes. I left the class in a daze, possibly an oxygen rush. I think I was dizzy; not sure I could see out of my right eye. Pretty sure my right arm was numb. But I'm certain I breathed clean, pure air directly into my soul. It was beautiful and I hope only the beginning of breathwork.

4:30 PM The Art of Relaxation with Melanie Kordis. I think I was pretty much useless by this point. I expected this workshop to be about "how to relax" versus the act of relaxing. It was more restorative yoga which my hips and back just couldn't tolerate at this point. BUT the energy in the room was delightful. Soft voices, sweet smiles and a gift: an eye pillow, lotion and lavender pillow mist. All day I was thinking: "I really need to get an eye pillow." I saw the gift bags and I said to myself, "Self, I bet there's an eye pillow in there." Unbelievable. In the final few moments of the workshop, we were allowed to do shoulder stand which next to plough is my favorite posture. After such a long day, it was perfect.

Interim: I skipped dinner. Dad picked up a salad for me from Panera and it waited at my house while I starved. BUT in lieu of food, I spent about 30 minutes on the Biomat. Um. Whoa. The biomat has something to do with negative ions and heat and guided relaxation. Beyond that, clueless. All I know is that I checked out. Altered reality. Maybe I was asleep. Maybe I was dead. I remember nothing for a very long time and then, a lady touched my arm and said, "Honey, are you okay?" Ha. Good question. So, I went directly from the Biomat to a chair massage. Really? How good is life? I met an Astrologer; I bought an Ohm Pendant and a mat for my knees from lovely Betsy at the Peace, Love, Balance stand. (She owns a store in Hilltop which I never seem to get to so she came to me. How nice.)

8:00PM Kirtan with Daphne Tse. Call and response yoga...singing, chanting, sitting on the floor with new friends and their guitars. Wow. Completion of energy.

Angela P. asked me yesterday if I felt the conference was worth the money. $175 for the all day event. And until that moment, I hadn't really thought about the price. $175 means a lot to me. $175 is very important typically because it takes such a very long time to earn. But this year, I cannot put a price on my sanity. I cannot put a price on my health and my journey toward peace. Saturday was an investment and I guarantee, the effects of Saturday will be felt LONG after my IRA runs out.