Foot print in the snow

I walked the dogs today on a dirt road that took us to the Avon River. The road had a light layer of snow on it from the night before. The puddles were still frozen and still had snow on them. I found it funny how my younger dog Maddie would run around and then suddenly hit one of those frozen puddles. Even though she has 4 legs she still would lose her footing for a second and then regain it.

In standing balance poses, footing is very important. I imagine that I am putting a footprint in the snow, my foot settles into the snow with a firm stability. Then the poses seem to grow from there. But other times there is ice under the snow and one moment I’m balancing perfectly in the pose and the next I’m awkwardly trying to keep my balance.

One thing I learned from Maddie is that even if she loses her balance on the ice, it really doesn't faze her. It is all just part of life.

A long Road

Sometimes it seems that there is a long road ahead of us in the practice of Yoga. You know, like when you say to yourself, “will I ever be able to do so and so pose?” It seems like such a long road. I guess it is like any thing else; it doesn’t come all at once, although sometimes you want it to happen all at once. But then how would we learn without going through the process?
We do learn by going through something over and over again until it is engrained in our nervous system. That is change over time. But then there is change that is instantaneous. This change is from something that you observe or something that happens to you that you cannot describe. It engulfs all of you; it isn’t learned from a process, meaning it doesn’t have any thing to do with time, that is why it is indescribable.
So I think that there are two ways of learning, one that involves time that has the quality of “a long road ahead of you” and the other which is “immediate” learning.

Going Beyond Muscles & Bones

Have you ever observed how the respiratory system is affected when practicing asana? Sometimes I get so involved with the skeletal muscular system that all my awareness of the respiratory system is so far in the background that I’m unaware of it. Other times I’m so involved with the respiratory system, that I lose track of the skeletal muscular system.
I find it interesting how these two systems affect one another, how when I overuse one system the other is affected. So for example, if I over use the skeletal muscular system then it has an affect of straining and then this results in holding my breath.
This brings me to something that I wondered about for a long time. I read in different yoga books and have heard teachers talk about how a particular asana has benefits for a particular body system. Now I understand how hamstrings lengthen in an asana, because I feel it. But when it came to the effects on my liver, for example, then I couldn’t feel it. But what I found out was the sensation of the liver and the sensation of the hamstrings were two different things. They express themselves in different ways.
This goes back to the skeletal muscular and respiratory systems; they both have different ways of expressing themselves. So sometimes in a practice I’ll go to Light on Yoga and look up what systems are affected in the asanas that I’m practicing that day. Then I observe as I’m practicing how these different systems are expressing themselves. This is a interesting way of practicing because it shows what systems are over used and what systems are under used.

Support

My subject today is support. I remember being at the Iyengar Yoga Association conference in Toronto. During the time I was there I listened to a lot of stories about people’s trips to India. These stories were not just about their adventures in India but also about the support they received from their life partners left at home. Being in the situation of owner/teacher of a Yoga studio, I have made sacrifices of not being able to travel to India as often as I should have. When I did go I always had the support at home so I could go.
A support in asana practice gives us the opportunity to learn what we couldn’t without it. This is also true of the support of the partner at home when we go away. Personally speaking this is also true of the support I get from the students that attend my classes; I’m not only talking about the average student who plunks down their money and attends a session of classes. I’m talking about a community that is growing around the yoga studio because people offer to help in many significant, varied and enriching ways. This has been going on for years now. As the support of a bolster in Supta Baddha Konasana allows me to open my chest, so also the support of the yoga community and the support of my partner in life Muriel Zimmer, a dedicated Yogini herself, allows me to keep the studio running all these years.
Sometimes I feel that we forget that most of us are lucky to have support in life no matter what that support may be. So let’s all acknowledge that support to whoever or whatever is offering that gift to us.

Letting Go

Today I’m going outside to work on a spruce tree in our yard that is leaning over to one side. Apparently the root system is shallow and the ground is wet, and also we get strong, one sided winds in that part of the property. So, I’m going to put a few stakes in the ground and tie ropes around the tree and the stake will give the tree support from the winter winds. I remember last year I had to do the same thing. Once I supported the tree it was as though the tree could take a breath of relief; it could finally let go because it was supported.
In Iyengar Yoga, because we have the use of props, we can experience the same letting go. That letting go can arise in many ways, from one extreme to the other, from crying to laughing or feeling anger to feeling joy. Like the tree, we need that foundation in an asana or we are continuously holding on, not just physically but also mentally. So it is no wonder when we can finally get in a place of support that we can let go. Just compare the difference of doing a headstand in the middle of the room to doing a headstand hanging in the ropes. Once you accept the support, your body responds by letting go. In giving that support to the tree, I am giving it a chance to let go.

There are only so many hours in the day

When I drive to the studio from Falmouth I usually listen to the radio. And it is not unusual to hear the comment on the radio that in today’s world we all have busy lives. Now I’ve heard this many times before but on this day it stuck in my mind. We are all so busy no matter what it is. Even manufacturers have come up with gadgets to help us organize our lives. The days aren’t long enough to get everything done; something always has to be put off until tomorrow.
Then I remember what my mother used to say, or was that my grandmother? “There are only so many hours in the day”. When I thought back, I tried to think when I wasn’t busy. Even as a child I was always doing something. What I’ve come to realize is that being busy is a rush; it is addictive. It all has to do with the mind. The mind loves to be busy, the busier the better; it even puts itself down when it can’t get everything done on time or done that day.
Now you might say, but “what about my job”, “what about the children”, “what about”, “what about”? I say, be kind to yourself. It’s not that you stop doing everything; it’s just about being present while you are doing everything. The are only so many hours in the day.

Reaching Out

I find it interesting how everyday life shows up in asanas. Just by moving into, staying and moving out of an asana can show me so many things about how I live my life. For example this week in class I observed that when I did Ardha Chandrasana that I really didn’t want to reach out and put my supporting hand on the floor. It was more comfortable just to place that supporting hand on the floor.
So realizing this I wanted to see the difference if I did reach out. At first it didn’t feel normal, I felt uncoordinated and uneasy within myself, it seemed that I wasn’t in control. The uneasiness was deep inside me, it wasn’t physical, because I could reach, I just felt uneasy doing it. Now this wasn’t the first time I’ve done this asana, but it was the first time I notice this reaction. So now this is my meditation when practicing asanas that involve reaching, I will slowly start to extend my reach.
That ability to reach out in my life isn’t developed to its fullest and this showed up in Ardha Chandrasana.
Like me, if you feel uneasy in an asana, use it as a meditation, slowly work on the asana until there is no more uneasiness.

Letting Go

Today I’m going outside to work on a spruce tree in our yard that is leaning over to one side. Apparently the root system is shallow and the ground is wet, and also we get strong, one sided winds in that part of the property. So, I’m going to put a few stakes in the ground and tie ropes around the tree and the stake will give the tree support from the winter winds. I remember last year I had to do the same thing. Once I supported the tree it was as though the tree could take a breath of relief; it could finally let go because it was supported.
In Iyengar Yoga, because we have the use of props, we can experience the same letting go. That letting go can arise in many ways, from one extreme to the other, from crying to laughing or feeling anger to feeling joy. Like the tree, we need that foundation in an asana or we are continuously holding on, not just physically but also mentally. So it is no wonder when we can finally get in a place of support that we can let go. Just compare the difference of doing a headstand in the middle of the room to doing a headstand hanging in the ropes. Once you accept the support, your body responds by letting go. In giving that support to the tree, I am giving it a chance to let go.

Be familiar with the unknown

The importance of being you. The importance of being me. The importance of understanding who you are. The importance of understanding who I am. We as humans become familar with ourselves. I think we become so familar that we fall into a trap of thinking we really know who we are; it feels safe this way.
Most of us have busy lives, so the opportunity not to get caught up in that cycle of knowing comes around only once in a while. B.K.S. Iyengar says he is a student of Yoga. If this is true, then this doesn’t mean he starts his practice from a beginners’ level, but in his practice there is an unknown. When I practice headstand, for example, I place my arms and head in a way that I can connect with and receive energy from mother earth. That is something that a beginner needs to learn. Once in the pose I go through all the actions that I know; after that I can’t do anything more. Then comes the unknown. The unknown is a place of discovery. It’s a place of not being me, me doesn’t have anything to do with it, me needs to get out of the way. So in your life, find a time to not be you. Find a time to not be your job, not be a mother or father, or a son or daughter, or a wife or husband, just be.

The Sewing Machine

When I was young I remember watching my mother sew on her Singer sewing machine at home. I would just stare at her in wonderment. How could she be in such control of that machine? It seemed like the machine was going so fast that it would take her over. Twenty-five years later I found myself in front of an industrial sewing machine. My purpose of being there was to make yoga bolster slips. A friend of mine, who was a sail maker, had sat me down and whipped through a lesson on how to work the machine, and how to make a slip. Standing there I thought that it couldn’t be too hard. He did it so easily; it brought back memories of my mother. This is what a beginner yoga student goes through. They see the teacher show them how to do the pose and the teacher makes it look so simple.
Well I sat down in front of that machine and pressed the pedal to start sewing. The first thought that came to mind was, I don’t want my fingers anywhere near that needle. I didn’t seem to have control. It would be like doing Downward Facing Dog for the first time and the teacher says, “press your thighs back to open your shoulders”; You think, “what are they talking about?” or “how do you do that?”
You know, looking back I remember when I finally finished my first bolster slip and thought it would take forever to complete ten. Then I got to the point that making ten was simple and at that point I thought I had finally mastered the machine. It is something like when you have been doing Downward Facing Dog for years and figured out that you have finally got it under control. What I’ve come to realize about sewing is, that when you and the machine are one, then sewing is a joy. It is like when you practice an asana; you and the asana are one.
Looking back now to when I was a child watching my mother sewing, I can understand now why she sewed so often.

Preparing Myself

Today was my day to do gardening work. In our garden we have a plot for raspberries.
When we bought the raspberry plants I thought it would be a good idea to buy a variety that gave fruit late in the season. My reasoning was that we could then have raspberries most of the summer, as we could buy the early variety when it came out in the stores. Well my reasoning really didn’t work out, as there were only a few times we got a good harvest because the plants bloomed way too late in the year.
So my job today was to go out and dig up all those plants and replant new plants of an earlier fruiting variety. Our raspberry plot is 18 ft. X 5 ft., so I knew I had a job in front of me. Luckily the ground was wet, so digging wasn’t so bad. But the roots, the roots, the roots. I have become quite acquainted with roots. I can now appreciate B.K.S. Iyengar’s wording “root your foundation to the floor”. When I got the roots out and turned over all the sod, I started to compare this to a practice. I was preparing the soil for new plants, as I prepare my body to do a backbend. First you prepare before you plant a new seed. So I got the tiller out and went back and forth, making sure that the ground was broken up enough for the new plants. When I relate that back to my practice, I prepare myself for backbends by doing poses that extend the thighs, open the chest and shoulders. What I learned from that whole experience is that life is an exploration; no matter what I’m doing, it is an exploration.

Grazing

The other day I was asked a question about where does silence play a role in yoga practice. Silence is something that I personally don’t try to achieve in a practice; it seems to be there, as a result of the practice. The deepness of the silence, if I can say it that way, seems to come with the intensity of the practice. Intensity of the practice means how deeply you penetrate yourself, or in other words how much you were in the moment when you were in the practice.
I notice this sometimes in the dogs, when I take them for a walk; that is our purpose, to walk. During the walk in the fields across from our house, I let them go off the leash to graze. During that time they are running or walking with their heads down and scenting all the different smells. When they graze their minds are distracted. But when the leash goes back on, then it is a different story; then they concentrate on walking. When they walk there is no nose down and looking around. That is like concentrating on doing a posture, that’s not silence that’s concentration, don’t get them mixed up.
Sometimes after these walks I notice that one or both the dogs can just sit and be quiet. The way they do this is with so much ease it is always enlightening to me. They do this so naturally.
That why I say that silence isn’t practiced, it is the result of a practice.

Following Directions

Are you good at following directions? I guess for some of us it is easier to follow verbal directions while others might have to visibly see a direction. I know when my dog Bear really wants water sometimes he’ll point his nose into his water dish. Other times he will jump up on me when I’m seated. He's trying to get my attention and it is up to me to figure out what he wants. If I say, “do you have to go to the bathroom?” he seems to understand those words and respond by putting his ears up. But I really think he's responding to my body movement when I say those words. I think that I move in a particular way but don’t realize it. He recognizes that movement as “he is going to take me out”.

When I first started taking yoga lessons I can remember that one of the hardest things to do was to follow directions. It seemed like it didn’t make sense what the teacher was directing me to do. My brain was trying to figure it out, but when the teacher would demonstrate the move I then thought, "Oh you want me to do that, OK I can do that". Then I went and did it. But of course my brain thought it was doing it but it really wasn’t. This goes on and off still to this day. I catch myself now, when the brain thinks it can do something and then I stand back and wait. I know now that it is the body that really knows how to do it and the body and the brain both seem to have their own intelligences.

So I recognize now that Bear reads my natural body intelligence a lot faster then I do.

Positioning Yourself

The other day I was cutting the end off of a long piece of wood to make a bookshelf. In preparation I put the wood on a workbench. The wood was so long that it hung over both ends of the workbench so I needed to support one end with something. I used a lawn chair and a water bucket. Then I stopped and realized I needed to get into the right position to cut the wood. I’ve noticed this same thing with my dog Bear.

When Bear relieves himself he doesn’t just squat. He first finds a place. Then he walks around in circles or back and forth until he gets into just the right position, satisfied, he then squats and does his business.

I realize that positioning myself when I am practicing yoga is similar. If I don’t get myself just in the right position then the asana doesn’t present itself in the same way. I find this very interesting, how this positioning of oneself before entering the asana makes the asana so much more approachable. So just like I naturally position myself to cut the wood, and Bear naturally positions himself to do his business, we naturally position our selves to practice asanas.

Take note the next time you practice to see if this is so for you.

Injuries

This month new students at the studio were offered one free class to try out Iyengar Yoga. They were asked to fill out a registration form before starting the class. I look at this form before the class starts and if there is anything written down about injuries I usually talk to the student. Sometimes these are old injuries that have been there for years and the student has a good idea what brings on pain and what doesn’t.

So for new students to bring their arm over their head when there is a shoulder injury is a challenge. When they’re shown how to move in a way that creates space then they start to understand in what direction to work. To keep the understanding they need to keep doing the movement day in and out. The whole process is a journey.

If you have an injury, have you noticed how it affects your mind? I find that sometimes I push too far and there is a lot a sensation which clouds my mind in a way that I’m not clear about what is happening, all I know is that it hurts a lot. Other times there isn’t enough sensation to give my mind feed back to also know what is happening. So I find that the practice of working with an injury becomes a meditation. The mind is the observer and it can be clear on what it is observing if there is just the right amount of sensation.

So in a sense this injury is a wonderful teacher for body and mind, although a lot of us might not think of it in that way.

Hold Your Horses

Did you ever hear someone say “hold on” or “hold your horses”? I guess it means wait a minute, or pause. Lots of times we are in our heads so much it’s hard to know what is happening. But there are natural pauses, there is a natural pause between breaths, and there is a natural pause between thoughts.

In any movement practice these natural pauses are important to observe. They are times when you learn what’s happening with body and mind.

I know when I practice, sometimes I get in a hurry, or the other way around, I just stay in the asana blindly. I never learn about myself in those times because I don’t connect with the pauses. When I do connect with the pauses I’m able to observe “what is”. For instance, when I pause it gives me the opportunity to see that I have more weight on one hand than the other in Adho Mukha Vrksasana (Hand Balance). For me I need that pause to observe, otherwise I get caught up in “Time”.

There are still times now that I just say “hold your horses” to myself and when I do I’m grateful for that reminder.

Corn on the Cob

We all have our way of doing things. For example, when I have a meal with corn on the cob in the menu I always eat the corn separately from the other part of the meal. That’s the way I like to do it. You know, just get in there and chew on that cob. It seems different from the other part of the meal where I would use a fork, knife or maybe chopsticks. You know neither way is right or wrong, it is just the way I like to do it, you could say it’s my nature.

When I practice asanas I do the same thing. Some asanas I just get in there and do them and other ones I might use a block, chair or whatever. It is like eating the corn on the cob where I’m just enjoying the pleasures of taste, texture and smell. It’s not to say that when I do eat with utensils that I don’t enjoy the meal. It’s the same thing when I practice with the use of props. I enjoy it. I find the props give me insights. Props are useful but sometimes you just have to get in there and see what happens without them.