In the interest of non-judgemental self-disclosure, I'd like to share what really brought me to yoga: depression. Deep, dark, and dirty. Self-swallowing, dramatic, and all-encompassing. For most of my "yoga life," I've managed to keep the demons at bay, but it took a LONG time to drag myself to the mat with any consistency (as people who knew me from age 18-23 will testify!!!); and consistency is the key to lasting change.
Maybe you struggle with depression (or anhedonia, or the blues, or whatever you'd like to call it), too. I've read much on the subject and, of course, have used yoga, meditation, and pranayama as a tool to counteract the worst bouts and to get through the crummy times. I've never taken medication, though believe that everyone is different and every depression is different. If medication works for you, stick with it. Yoga works for me (especially when combined with fresh whole foods and regular multi-vitamins). So, I offer to the global yoga community (and the global community of those suffering from depression) a version of Surya Namaskar (I call it Anahata Namaskar) that focuses on heart-opening poses intended to increase blood flow to the chest, lungs, and heart, to activate your anahata (heart) chakra, to increase lymphatic drainage, and to generally make you feel good. Try it with this very important "mouth mudra:" turn the corners of your mouth up during each pose. :)
Here is a written explanation of Anahata Namaskar, but if you prefer a visual, check it out below:
BEGIN
Center your body and breath, either by coming into Sukhasana (easy seat) and finding a few yogic breaths, or coming to Tadasana (mountain pose) at the top of your mat. If you began in easy pose, step to the top of your mat, and bring your hands together at the heart center (Samasthiti). Inhale sweep your arms up and interlace the fingers. Turn the palms toward the sky and look up. Exhale begin to fold. Lift your chest up halfway and grab hands behind your back. Fold again with hands bound. Lift your chest halfway and free your hands to the floor. Step back to Adho Mukha Svanasana (Down Dog).
FIRST SIDE
Lift your R leg high and step it forward between your hands, L knee down (Anjanyasana). Sweep your arms up then cross L arm underneath R arm for Garudasana (Eagle) arms. Wrap once (press forearms) or twice (press forearms and palms) and take a small backbend. On an exhale, begin to twist R, unwinding the top arm and pressing the palms together (so the L arm is atop the R thigh and you're in Prayer twist). Interlace the fingers again and sweep the arms up & out of the twist for another backbend then grab hands behind your back and fold over your bent leg. Stay in your fold, rock the hips back, straightening the front leg as much as possible (press into your front big toe for stability). Inhale rock back to a lunge and lift your chest. Free your arms and come to a "reverse warrior" like pose; drop your R hand behind your R hip and lift your L arm in line with your L ear. Exhale take both hands down to the floor and step back to Down Dog. Inhale to Plank; exhale through Chaturanga Dandasana (Low push-up). Inhale to Bhujangasana (low cobra) then free the arms, stretching them back along side the hips. Stay lifted, grab hands behind your back (Ardha Shalabasana variation). Next exhale, free your arms, and stretch back to Balasana (child's pose) with arms extended forward. Stay in Child's pose and bend your elbows, pressing the palms together and moving the thumbs back toward the base of your skull (nice stretch for the underarms). Inhale, release and roll forward to Cobra again, then exhale back to Down Dog.
SECOND SIDE
Inhale, L leg high to Eka Pada Adho Mukha Svanasana (3 legged dog pose). Step forward to Anjanyasana with back knee down. Reach your arms up then cross R arm underneath L (Garudasana arms). Take a small backbend then begin to twist L (L arm unwinds and palms press at heart center, R arm is against upper L thigh). Interlace the fingers again and sweep the arms up & out of the twist for another backbend then grab hands behind your back and fold over your bent leg. Stay in your fold, rock the hips back, straightening the front leg as much as possible (press into your front big toe for stability). Inhale rock back to a lunge and lift your chest. Free your arms and come to a "reverse warrior" like pose; drop your L hand behind your L hip and lift your R arm in line with your R ear. Exhale take both hands down to the floor and step back to Down Dog. Inhale to Plank (top of a push-up); exhale through Chaturanga Dandasana (Low push-up) pulling your elbows back and your heart forward. Inhale to Bhujangasana (low cobra) then free the arms, stretching them back along side the hips. Stay lifted, grab hands behind your back (Ardha Shalabasana variation). Next exhale, free your arms, and stretch back to Balasana (child's pose) with arms extended forward. Stay in Child's pose and bend your elbows, pressing the palms together and moving the thumbs back toward the base of your skull (nice stretch for the underarms). Inhale, release and roll forward to Cobra again, then exhale back to Down Dog.
END
Step or jump forward to Ardha Uttanasana (half-fold). Exhale, take a full fold. Interlace your fingers and lead with your arms and your heart as you rise all the way to Utthita Tadahasana (extended mountain). Exhale back to Samasthiti (hands to heart center). Pause with your breath and repeat as many times as you like. Remember to add your "mouth mudra"!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Letting go
This year (so far) is shaping up the be the year of letting go. The practice of non-attachment is basically the bread-and-butter of any thoughtful yogini, so why am I just (re)learning this lesson? Well, situations change and we can change, too, or we can get stuck. Apparently, I've been stuck!
My spiritual practice (of which yoga is a vital part) has for many years revolved around recognizing that attachment and, more importantly, attachment to outcomes cause us misery.
So, it seems I struggle most with placing expectations on my students...in other words, being attached to, what I think, is the appropriate outcome of my work as a teacher. There, I admit it. I show up, I teach my class, and I try to give my all each time. And I expect the same of my students. Come, participate, give it your all, and, by golly, show some improvement!
Doesn't really that seem all that harmful UNTIL a student falls short of those unattainably high expectations. For me, it was a student that was training to be a teacher. I had taken her under my wing (whether she knew it or not) and was placing unreasonably high expectations on her development as a teacher, and on her expression of yoga. In other words, I was so caught up in what I thought were the appropriate expressions of her practice that I neglected to consider that 1) I had no right to do this and 2) everyone has a right to journey according to their needs.
So, you guessed it, this student let me down. Big time. Not only was I disappointed, I felt personally betrayed! "How could she behave so un-yogically!" I thought to myself. The situation was complicated and I'll spare you the gory details, but essentially it came down to some behaviors that IN MY MIND constituted a blatant disregard for the yogic path of honesty, commitment, and discipline. Regardless of her intentions or of my expectations, the outcome (on my end) was the same: attachment equals mucho misery.
My choice in refusing to let go of my expectations for this student yielded a big aching heart. And I'd like to think that I've (finally) re-learned this lesson: albeit, the hard way. The daily challenge remains though: remembering that what I do on the mat, in the studio, at my classes, is my work. It's what I put into the world with my whole heart; BUT once it's out there, it no longer belongs to me. I have to let go of that effort, live my dharma, and allow others to live theirs. Whether I agree with it or not.
My spiritual practice (of which yoga is a vital part) has for many years revolved around recognizing that attachment and, more importantly, attachment to outcomes cause us misery.
So, it seems I struggle most with placing expectations on my students...in other words, being attached to, what I think, is the appropriate outcome of my work as a teacher. There, I admit it. I show up, I teach my class, and I try to give my all each time. And I expect the same of my students. Come, participate, give it your all, and, by golly, show some improvement!
Doesn't really that seem all that harmful UNTIL a student falls short of those unattainably high expectations. For me, it was a student that was training to be a teacher. I had taken her under my wing (whether she knew it or not) and was placing unreasonably high expectations on her development as a teacher, and on her expression of yoga. In other words, I was so caught up in what I thought were the appropriate expressions of her practice that I neglected to consider that 1) I had no right to do this and 2) everyone has a right to journey according to their needs.
So, you guessed it, this student let me down. Big time. Not only was I disappointed, I felt personally betrayed! "How could she behave so un-yogically!" I thought to myself. The situation was complicated and I'll spare you the gory details, but essentially it came down to some behaviors that IN MY MIND constituted a blatant disregard for the yogic path of honesty, commitment, and discipline. Regardless of her intentions or of my expectations, the outcome (on my end) was the same: attachment equals mucho misery.
My choice in refusing to let go of my expectations for this student yielded a big aching heart. And I'd like to think that I've (finally) re-learned this lesson: albeit, the hard way. The daily challenge remains though: remembering that what I do on the mat, in the studio, at my classes, is my work. It's what I put into the world with my whole heart; BUT once it's out there, it no longer belongs to me. I have to let go of that effort, live my dharma, and allow others to live theirs. Whether I agree with it or not.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Share your gifts
Ever feel that you've exhausted the limits of creativity and connection and that nothing you could do, create, or offer the world is original (or, even necessary)? Ok, maybe that's just me. In this hyper-connected world, we're overcome with good ideas, innovation to the n'th degree, and original thought seems an impossibility.
But you are the only you. And I am the only me. And the more we focus on what we can offer as a unique individual to this messy, chaotic, collective, the greater our potential for impact, inspiration, and innovation.
Often, I fall into the comparison trap (maybe you do, too) and tell myself that "if only I were _____ like ____" and "too bad I'm not ____ like _____" and "my life would be more meaningful if I had ________ like ________."
What a challenge it is to accept who you are right here, right now; rife with imperfections as we are, we each have the capacity to experience a meaningful life in which our service to others (by sharing our gifts) outshines any deficiencies we may (or think we may) have.
As a yoga teacher with a busy class schedule, I frequently feel that, at best, I'm just parroting myself from class to class and, at worst, that I don't have anything to offer the broader yoga community. Yet, my body continues to offer insights - original or not - when I step onto the mat; it's my interpretation of those insights that is my gift to the yoga community.
What are your gifts and how do you share them?
But you are the only you. And I am the only me. And the more we focus on what we can offer as a unique individual to this messy, chaotic, collective, the greater our potential for impact, inspiration, and innovation.
Often, I fall into the comparison trap (maybe you do, too) and tell myself that "if only I were _____ like ____" and "too bad I'm not ____ like _____" and "my life would be more meaningful if I had ________ like ________."
What a challenge it is to accept who you are right here, right now; rife with imperfections as we are, we each have the capacity to experience a meaningful life in which our service to others (by sharing our gifts) outshines any deficiencies we may (or think we may) have.
As a yoga teacher with a busy class schedule, I frequently feel that, at best, I'm just parroting myself from class to class and, at worst, that I don't have anything to offer the broader yoga community. Yet, my body continues to offer insights - original or not - when I step onto the mat; it's my interpretation of those insights that is my gift to the yoga community.
What are your gifts and how do you share them?
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