Gratitude

The act of leaving inspires so much: so much sadness, so much joy, and, hopefully, so much love. Take an already full experience and add to it the heartbreak of watching a beautiful land go up in flames and I, for one, am left with an opportunity of infinite fathoms to reflect.

I have been blessed to have lived in Flagstaff, a city I have appreciated for its community, beauty, quirkiness, and more, for seven years. Leaving has been bittersweet and a practice of awareness regarding the journey, versus the destination. Choices we make in life can confound us, liberate us, stymie us….But through the thick of it, maybe we can remember to trust. To trust that the dharma of our lives will lead us where we’re meant to be, regardless of the “smaller” choices that can overwhelm our daily lives. This is not to promote passivity, but rather to trust in the natural current of life: when we find there is an imbalance of so much effort and so little surrender, we owe it to ourselves to consider why.

So, relinquishing my efforts to flow along the current of my life meant uprooting 7 years to plant roots in the desert (another place of extraordinary beauty). Despite my trust in this process, I have found myself facing attachments: to my previous way of life, to relationships, to the studio.

And now as I take a seat on the porch, I look past the sweet, syrupy colors of the sunset to the North, to another place I love. How I want to see it, though, and the truth of its current condition seem at odds. I think of people I know and their fear for their homes, animals, and more; I think of the land’s natural inhabitants—from the elk to the caterpillars and am sad for the lives and homes they lost; I think of the soil that will take inestimable years to heal, and I find it hard not to weep.

The journey of our yoga practice teaches us that balance is a constant process, not a static place: through beauty there may be immeasurable pain. How can we adjust to find equilibrium and harmony in the midst of this human-made tragedy? Maybe the answer is gratitude for the land that has been, and trust that through its own process it too will heal. I read a poem the other day and was struck by the relevance of the last stanza to our Flagstaff forest:

“… we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is”—“Thanks” by W.S, Merwin

Maybe sometimes we need to remember to say thank you—for everything and nothing all at once—a practice in itself of Samadhi. Thank you, Flagstaff, for your beauty, pain, sunshine and dark days. Thank you for being a place worthy of sacrifice.

--Autumn

“Breath: The Song of the Soul”

“I find belly breathing to be really challenging[….] Also, I feel like I am often behind the teacher’s cues for breathing. Any suggestions?”

If you have ever watched a baby breathe, you have noticed how her belly will rise when she inhales and that her belly will fall when she exhales. Somehow, though, as we age many of us lose this natural capacity for full, deep breaths. Some hypothesize that we created shallow, upper chest breathing to prevent our bellies from looking too “full”; regardless of the cause, in our yoga practice we have many opportunities to reconnect with this most natural breath. Physiologically, when the belly rises with the inhalation, the diaphragm lowers, thereby allowing more room for incoming air; conversely, when the belly falls with the exhalation, the diaphragm lifts, thereby helping to expel the air from the lungs. It’s a method that facilitates greater depth of breath and calm in body and mind. Belly breathing is a sort of “gateway” breath before embarking on the more challenging, and transformative, pranayama exercises. And it’s arguably the most deceptively simple of the breathing exercises.

When in a yoga class and the instructor calls out a breath with a movement—for example, “Inhale lengthen, exhale twist”—it’s important to follow your own breath to its capacity instead of curbing it to heed the call of the next breath; i.e. finish your inhalation before initiating the exhalation, and vice versa. Honor the currents of your breath and allow yourself to experience its connection to your physical practice. Trust that you won’t fall behind. Trust in your own practice.

I find the very etymology of the word “spirit” to be comforting and highly applicable in yoga: it comes from the Latinate word “spiritus”, which means “breath”. This adds a whole new appreciation to the word breath’s sister word: respiration. That breath and spirit are entwined in the linguistic world is but one reference of their connection: vast Vedic literature regards the breath’s dual identity as a system that is both voluntary and involuntary; i.e. a system that is both physical and spiritual. Borrowing words to put the sentiment simply, and beautifully, “In the breath, the soul finds the opportunity to speak” (Faulds).

--Autumn

Making Space

We all have some awareness that we carry our emotions in our body. When we get stressed we may have a stomach ache or a head ache or tight shoulders and a sore jaw. Is it possible we carry our history in our body? (Unfinished arguments and unneeded baggage weighing our bodies down) Through out my yoga training this had been a focus of mine as I have discovered many of my own old emotional habits in my yoga practice. I find myself struggling to pull my shoulders back, after all, my habit of folding my arms in front of me and protecting myself is ingrained over the years. Doing twists is a great way to ring some of this "stuff" out like a wet towel to make space for new energy! Forward folds are a great way to experiment with letting go and surrendering to what ever it is you have inside. Inversions are a great way to give yourself a new perspective and explore your fears. I invite you to consider your emotional road map in your own body. What are your habits in your yoga practice? Do you struggle with opening the heart in back bends or fears in inversions? Look for the relationship in your physical practice of yoga and your psychological practice of yoga. By all means come to my class and I'll see if I can help.
Peace, love and all things yoga,
Katie

All in the Name of Balance

I recently taught a class that was focused on balance, both physically and mentally. I told a story and many of you asked me for that story since you were not able to make it to the class. Well, this story was told to me about 5 years ago my a man who grew up in India. Enjoy. --Katie

There was a prince who had everything. He had a huge castle with all the food he could want, all the women he could ever want, and he was even a very talented violinist. But still, he was not happy. So he went to the Buddha to seek advice. He sat before the Buddha and the Buddha said nothing. The prince realized that simplicity was the key. The Buddha had nothing, needing nothing, and said nothing. So the prince gave away all his possessions and became a monk. He lived with the monks. When they ate beans and rice he ate just rice. When they walked along the path he walked along the rocks and he was still unhappy. He went back to the Buddha to seek advice. The Buddha asked the prince. "What happens when the strings of your violin are too loose. The prince answered, "The violin will not play." The Buddha asked, "What happens when the string are too tight?" The prince answered, "The strings will break and the violin will not play." The Buddha said, " Ah, so it is in Balance that music will play. Find your balance and listen for your music."

“What Kind of Yoga Do You Practice?”; Another Opportunity for Reflection

This past month I’ve received inquiries from people wondering how to answer this question; and while the best answer is subjective I think the genesis of potential responses is most appropriately placed in the genesis of Yoga. The exact history of Yoga is debatable, but many Vedic scholars will date Yoga to approximately 5,000 years ago; however, this ancient yoga was not the yoga we see in most Western studios.

Traditionally, there are thought to be four main branches of Yoga: Karma (Yoga of Action), Jnana (Yoga of Wisdom/Inquiry), Bhakti (Yoga of Love), and Raja (Kingly Yoga or Yoga of Control). Raja Yoga, which is usually attributed to Patanjali, posits the 8-limbs of Yoga, aka Ashtanga—the point of origin for many modern styles/brands of yoga. While elements of the first branches may be found within many styles of yoga, it is primarily within Raja that we find reference to the physical, asana practice. Often thought to be a part of Raja, and sometimes thought to be parallel to it, is Hatha Yoga wherein we discover the asanas. Raja and Hatha Yogas are not mutually exclusive; rather, as stated in Hatha Yoga Pradipika, “There can be no Raja Yoga without Hatha Yoga and no Hatha Yoga without Raja Yoga. Hatha is the preparation for Raja and Raja is the [ultimate] goal of Hatha Yoga.” The word “Yoga” comes from the Sanskrit word yuj, which means to “yoke”, to bring together the body, mind, and spirit. The etymology of “Hatha” is “Ha” meaning sun and “tha” meaning moon; therefore, the Hatha yoga practice intends to help yoke/integrate two fundamental aspects of life and of our beings: the masculine and feminine and all that these aspects involve. This is a powerful thing to be aware of when preparing for and practicing the sun and moon salutations.

So, how we answer this deceptively simple question depends on our personal philosophy and spiritual belief. Some answer that they practice “Hatha Yoga” and others will respond with a specific style. A Yoga Generalist, so to speak, would perhaps see the varying styles of yoga as coming from the same source and make choices of what to practice based on personal proclivities for any given day—it could be Ashtanga, Kundalini, or Bikram. And perhaps this person would also believe that styles are secondary to the actual experience; taken further is the belief that various styles are yet another way to divide people and that the names and personality imprints on the different styles are irrelevant to the one true path. Others, though, remain steadfast in their dedication to a particular style. Personally, I find much wisdom in the idea (paraphrased from Enlighten Up!) that it doesn’t matter whether we travel by foot, car, or plane—as long as our body, mind and spirit grow and unite with each other—the destination will be, virtually, the same. In this philosophy, the dedicated Bhakti Yogi can discover the connection with this Supreme Being, Purusha, just as well as an Ashtanga Yogi.

At NAYC, we are fortunate to be able to experience different styles of classes and instructions. Through our varied experiences, we are in a prime position to reflect on our personal philosophy and spirituality regarding our practice. Maybe we are generalists who answer this question of what style yoga we practice broadly or maybe we’re faithful devotees who express our loyalty to one particular style. Regardless of how and what style(s) we practice, we can participate in the hopeful truth made by Sri K. Pattabhi Jois: “Practice and all is coming.”

--Autumn

Advancing into Grace

Lately, I have heard many people discussing “advanced” yoga classes; more specifically, I have received inquiries from people who express interest in the studio, but wonder why we do not offer advanced classes—likely their question is based on the studio’s level designations 1/3 or 2/3 on the schedule, but no solid ‘3’s. While this numeration supports the studio’s philosophy to encourage everyone to feel welcome to explore all classes, this notion of an advanced class begs the question of what “advanced” means and how to safely engage in an advanced practice.

A common delineation for an advanced practice is that a person can perform wheel and can kick into handstand. Yet subtleties abound and not all who can perform wheel can perform it safely. So then how is “advanced” evaluated, and by whom? Is a twelve-year-old who can fall into wheel and windmill her light-as-a-fairy self into handstand an advanced yogini? Or, perhaps, is an advanced yogini the one who has explored how to spread her awareness to all parts of her being in an asana so that she simultaneously “poses” and “reposes” (Iyengar)? True, she may not be able to bend into wheel, but she has an amazingly balanced and graceful triangle pose. A gymnast is not a yogi.

Let’s face it: many “advanced” poses are stunning. But when we decide to attend an advanced practice, which part(s) of us are ready? Are our physical bodies prepared with strength, flexibility, and knowledge of proper alignment? Is our mental body prepared to approach an honest practice filled with “faith, courage, determination, awareness, and absorption” (Iyengar)? Is our spiritual body able to breathe through our practice and experience that our breath is so much more than a respiratory action? Too often, it’s our ego that unfurls the mat in an advanced practice—this ego that allows us to soar when we serve it well, and feel small when we cannot do its bidding. There is a fine, and sometimes indistinguishable, line between appropriately challenging our whole being and the natural advancement of poses that follows and the ego wanting to inflate itself through perceived successes. But within our practice, we know what is true; the rub is whether or not we honor it. When I teach English, there are always people in my class who love to write creatively and they feel confined by grammatical rules and style guidelines. But as a writing teacher, I want them to know the basics so that they have a strong, solid foundation and from that place they can make creative, more personally expressive choices. The same can be said for our approach to asanas. Can we practice the patience of establishing a strong foundation in dolphin to avoid potential injury from extending ourselves too soon into headstand? When we understand and inhabit structural guidelines, we inhabit grace.

“Advanced” is a nebulous word brimming with so much potential integration, and injury. Much like there is Yoga and then there are branches of Yoga; there are asanas and then there are branches of asanas. Each branch can lead us toward integration. Patanjali says, “When an asana is correctly performed, the dualities between body and mind, mind and soul, have to vanish.” Certainly the duality does not vanish when it’s our ego that wants to light up in firefly. Our practices can be authentically advanced, in body, mind, and spirit, if we honor the asana as a method of healing and engage in an honest practice. Iyengar writes, “[The asanas] should be performed in such a way as to lead the mind from attachment to the body towards the light of the soul so that the practitioner may dwell in the abode of the soul.” But this will ask for many things, one of which being an honest reckoning within our practice and the trust that there are many ways to find the light of the soul—and they may or may not include firefly.

--Autumn

Letting Go!

Yoga is an opportunity to let go. Let go of expectations. Let go of judgments. Let go of pressures to succeed. Let go of the shoulds, coulds, and woulds. But if we come at our yoga practice the same way we “attack” all other things we “do” in our lives we’ll get the same thing out of it. I should be able to do headstand. I could breathe more. I would love to calm my mind but I can’t. Being aware of how much we push and beat up on ourselves is a great start but almost makes it harder! Damn! I am beating up on myself again. I should just accept myself. I could be more at peace with myself. I would love to just let go! Fact: Not many of use are walking around in a yogic state all the time and that’s okay. If you’re aware that you beat up on yourself, much like me, here’s a way to break the cycle and jump off that wheel. Every time you notice judgments of yourself replace them with what you want to cultivate. Here’s an example; I’m not good at triangle pose. I should be better after 3 years of practicing! I’m not good enough at my job. I could do better. My house is a mess and I haven’t gone to the grocery store. I would love to be a better provider at home. Stop! Acceptance, Compassion, Let go. Repeat what it is you want to cultivate in your head and create a mantra. You can use mine if you like. Allow yourself something positive to focus on. Let it be okay if you find it difficult to focus on your mantra. Let it be okay of you don’t notice any difference in your mental state. By not attaching to the outcome and accepting what is you have started replacing your judgments already! Know that some days it will be harder than others. That’s okay as well. It’s all the process of letting go!

Happy Yoga-ing!
Katie