An Attitude of Gratitude: Apply to your Thanksgiving Yoga Practice

How many of you roll your eyes when the host of your thanksgiving gathering makes everyone go around the table saying out loud what you are thankful for? Or perhaps you are the guilty host/hostess that commits this infamous act of putting everyone on the spot. There is a reason why people feel the need to do this: it’s because saying “thank you” out loud is powerful. Not thinking it, not pretending you’re saying it silently in church, at grace before dinner, or before you fall asleep the night before Thanksgiving. Saying “thank you” when you’re supposed to is easy. When things are going well or as planned. Thank you for my health, my family, friends, my good fortune. But how bout when things aren’t so great? Or how bout the small, seemingly insignificant things?

I work with sick people every day, providing them physical therapy in their homes. Many I encounter do not have their health to say thank you for. Many do not have family or friends to be grateful for. They are in pain, whether physical, emotional, financial. Pain is certainly not something one would normally be grateful for. One woman in particular had a tumor removed from her spine, which was causing severe pain before it was diagnosed. “Thank God I had pain, or else they never would have found the tumor, and I would not be alive right now,” she told me. When I ask about her pain level at the beginning of each visit, she says that while it is pretty severe, it is a daily reminder that she is alive. Wow.

I’m not saying to proclaim false gratitude for things that you are not truly grateful for. That would be counter intuitive. The hard stuff is hard, and it’s ok to be pissed off about it. But try digging a little deeper. There is always something we are overlooking that can serve as our target for gratitude. (As usual, I am also talking to myself when I write this). As I sit here now, I feel the sensation of the clothes on my skin, the smell in the air, the sound of my breath. Just that alone is packed with things to say thank you for! I have gratitude that my senses are intact, that I have clothes to wear, that I know how to (or at least try to) sit still and absorb the present moment. THANK YOU! Driving to work this morning, the lights turned red when they were supposed to, and green when they were supposed to, allowing us to safely get to our destinations. THANK YOU! Or how bout that Thanksgiving feast we'll all consume…the ingredients were on the shelves in the store this week. THANK YOU! Consider that the universe is divinely operating…without any human effort, without batteries, new shoes, an Ipad, a job or a yoga class. The sun rose this morning. THANK YOU!

See, the little things ARE the big things. And when we recognize that, it’s always easier to feel gratitude. FEEL gratitude. Put that into your poses this Thanksgiving. Let your backbends come from your heart center. Let your movements be guided by breath which you give thanks for. Let your practice be nothing but a physical expression of prayer. Call to mind your un-obvious target of gratitude, and say it out loud. Volunteer to share it at your Thanksgiving gathering. I bet it makes it that much more meaningful. Namaste. <3  

Recent NY Times Article: A Response

The New York Times recently published an article bravely titled, "How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body." That headline alone probably made smoke come out of most yoga teachers' ears. While it is easy to be quick to judge something boldly called that, the article does actually shed light on some important things about the practice of yoga in modern day America, and it's students and teachers.

As both a yoga teacher and a physical therapist, the article brings about mixed feelings. Obviously the reporter had his own negative experience with a yoga teacher (a--meaning ONE teacher), therefore now feels that yoga itself causes harm. Just like a subject in school--there are good teachers and bad teachers. This does not make the actual subject a bad thing. We do not refrain from eating food just because it may cause you to choke if you don't eat it mindfully. (Hey, there's that mindfulness thing again.) 

Many points are certainly valid--like persons with specific injuries or diagnoses should not be practicing certain postures to their fullest. This does not mean that the postures can't be modified with props in order for the student to receive the benefit of the pose. But something made me very sad--that Glenn Black tells certain students that yoga is not for them, so don't do it. This may be a lack of patience, knowledge, and adaptability as an instructor. Our job as yoga teachers is to make this ancient practice adaptable to all beings everywhere, regardless of physical or mental limitations. However, the students' job is to take ultimate responsibility over their own bodies. Asana is an exercise for the physical body, and just like in any form of exercise, pain or strain is a signal to back off.

Other statements in the article are absolutely ridiculous, AND untrue. For example, the statement that rotation of your neck is only supposed to be 45 degrees. The author has his facts plain wrong. Normal cervical rotation range of motion is 80 to 90 degrees--look it up in almost any anatomy book. There are other false statements in the article as well. Notice also how the author fished through years and years of records to find his examples. He pointed out the very few incidences where people were seriously injured doing very advanced postures without proper guidance.

Glenn Black specifically says in his interview that yoga is for people in "good" physical condition. I am personally offended by this statement. I may as well quit my job! People attend my class every single day who have new and old injuries. My program Yogabilitation teaches these people traditional yoga postures, breathing techniques and meditation techniques from a therapeutic approach. Yoga can and should be used as a treatment for numerous injuries and diseases. Yoga is medicine...it can cure--but like ALL medicines, if taken incorrectly, it can cause harm. That is what students AND teachers need to remember.

Yoga does not need a defense...it is an eight-limbed system that has been practiced for thousands of years, and has been healing for thousands of years. Over the course of those years and currently, there are students and teachers who unfortunately practice asana (physical postures) without the other 7 limbs. In yoga, we learn to live and work with the ego. Sometimes the ego is out of control, and can cause teachers to teach too big, and students to stretch too far. Our intenion is not to fight or shut down the ego...the ego is our tool in which to experience and enjoy things in life. However, we want to harness that energy so that we may still revel in the positive moments without harming our body and mind. We learn to do this by studying and applying the other 7 limbs of yoga.

I do not believe that Glenn Black's intention was to put yoga in a negative light. I do believe he wants people to know that a "generic" yoga class may not be appropriate for all people. That people who truly want to practice asana should take other steps before attending a group class. There are certainly good things to take from this article.

#1- Know Your Limits--you may not know specifically that in parsvotanasana you need to bend the front knee, otherwise it could cause you to overflex the lumbar spine...however you DO know that your lower back is painful, especially when you bend over to tie your shoes. TELL your instructor that! When you approach a pose that brings on pain, ask for a modification if one is not being given.

#2- Know Your Teacher--seek out teachers and classes that serve you best. Why attend an advanced class if you are a beginner...it will not serve you best. If you have an injury, be sure your medical provider has cleared you for physical activity, then let your instructor know about your injury. Be sure he or she is willing and able to guide you into postures with modifications if needed.

#3- Practice With Patience--learn to harness the ego. Learn to find your edge and back off. At the end of every single yoga class I teach, before closing I say this: "offer gratitude for your body and mind's capabilities, while accepting their challenges." Saying thank you is a powerful tool. It leads to acceptance. Accepting what your body and mind may not be able to perform is part of our yogic journey. Being able to truly apply this may take years of practice.

Practice Through Busy-ness

Whether it be walking, praying, reading, yoga...whatever YOUR daily practice is, do you keep it up through busy times like the holidays--or for that matter--projects at work, motherhood, visiting guests, etc? If you are not doing your practice mindfully and consistently, it ends up being nonpurposeful even when you do get to it--it is not a real PRACTICE. One simple way to make your practice sustainable is to do it with mindfulness. Quality, not quantity.

Pre-baby, I practiced ashtanga-vinyasa yoga and meditation for anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes per day, 5 to 6 days per week. Sometimes that was after a run or bike. HA! Most of you moms are laughing out loud at the thought of any sort of "practice" that doesn't include bicep curling your baby's carseat. I'm lucky if I can take a shower, nevermind all of that. Truth is, if I remember what yoga means in definition and to me individually, I can incorporate it into each and every task. Thich Nhat Hanh describes a simple way to practice mindfulness in his book, "The Miracle of Mindfulness":

"There are two ways to wash the dishes. The first way is to wash the dishes in order to have clean dishes and the second way is to wash the dishes in order to wash the dishes. If while we are washing dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as they were a nuisance, then we are not 'washing the dishes to wash to wash the dishes.' What's more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes....If we can't washes the dishes, chances are we won't be able to drink our tea either."

If we constantly rush through our daily tasks without mindfulness, we ultimately miss out on whatever it is we are rushing towards. It's true--we are not fully living. I sat down to write this blog yesterday after I put Maddox down for a nap. Hurrying to put all these thoughts together on paper, I must not have swaddled him tight enough, and he awoke a few minutes later. Hurrying again to get to him before hysteria, I didn't click "save." Here I am the next day starting from scratch. Point taken, universe! SLOW DOWN SAM!

Nowadays, my challenge is bringing yoga off my mat and into my daily life...something I encourage my students to do all the time. Whether it is washing the dishes, changing poopy diapers (yes, I used the word "poopy" in my yoga blog), or doing any form of my yoga practice, I try to remember the meaning of yoga. Union. Union of my individual being with a Supreme Consciousness. Union of my breath and awareness with each and every action. Whatever I think, say, or do, whatever energy I send out will ultimately come back to me because I am a part of something bigger. I don't do downdog every day, but I am learning to find ways to do my practice. I play my chants in the house and sing them to Maddox. While he is sleeping on my belly, I practice breathing techniques and watch his body rise and fall. I am SUPER-psyched when Brian says he'll watch the baby while I go take a yoga class. I am greatful when I get 30 minutes of asana practice at home uninterrupted. Sometimes, Maddox even does yoga with me!

 

I encourage you all to DO YOUR PRACTICE throughout the holidays, and through any busy time in your life. That is when you need it most. "Do your practice, and all is coming," Sri K. Pattabhi Jois tells us. Wishing you all a happy merry peaceful joyous Christmas, Hannukah, New Year, EVERYTHING! Namaste!

8 Limbs Put to the Test

What is a yoga teacher to do when suddenly your well thought-out "plans" for a class get completely turned upside down by an unsuspecting event...whether it be an esteemed teacher dropping in for class, the AC or heat not working (ie the temperature is too unbearable for your population to enjoy class), or in my case, a student with a significant limitation/disability/challenge comes into your class 10 minutes after you've started?      

 A class normally full of 8-10 people, my Friday morning Yogabilitation class was filled with familiar faces. Injuries of students range from minor back problems, to hip and knee replacements, to balance disorders. Tough to handle for most yoga instructors, myself included, however this is my specialty and passion. Eager-to-move-but-in-pain students sat while I opened with centering, breathing, setting an intention. Each of them knew who I was, my teaching style, how to use the props they were all set up with. After an upper trap stretch and a square breathing technique, somewhere between inhaling and exhaling through a few rounds of cat-cow, in walks a new student--"J". Immediately I notice that in place of his tibia and fibula (the portion of the lower leg below the knee), is a prosthetic limb.

 Immediately, thoughts, judgements, fears, negativity, doubt--all the things that limit us as human beings--flooded my mind. Too quickly to even process then and there. "What the hell am I going to do with him?" "There's no way I have the patience for this" "Should I have him take his leg off when we are on the floor?" Some of the more reasonable thoughts that crossed my mind--believe me, there were others much more judgemental, I admit. A span of 10 seconds passed before I moved or said anything. I'm not quite sure what happened in that 10 seconds. I just looked at him; not necessarily his body, his prosthesis, his limitation, but him. I put the rest of the class into child's pose and STOPPED thinking. I introduce myself to J in a whisper, and set him up with a mat and props. My whispers kept on, with "you'll be fine, just listen to your body", blah blah blah, what all yoga teachers say. He looked at me and said, "thank you, I'll be OK". Somehow I knew he was right.

In yoga teacher training especially, but also in other workshops and classes I have taken, Patanjali's 8 limb system of yoga is presented, however not very easy to understand or cultivate; in particular, Yamas and Niyamas. I can rattle them off no problem, even give interpretations that sound pretty accurate (I think/hope). Although, I'm not sure I truly "get" all of them and how they apply to real life. I mean, to my life, as a young woman, professional, wife, expectant mother, friend, sister, daughter, yoga teacher, aspiring "good" person. What I never considered is that my legitimate and honest attempts at understanding and practicing these principles automatically help etch them into my life. Now, months after the fact, I continue to dissect those 10 seconds that I stopped thinking. I'm pretty sure 8 limbs presented themselves to me clearer than ever before.

Ahimsa, or non-violence, was possibly the first observance my non-thinking mind made. I was not about to take out my own insecurities on J, just because he had a fancy piece of metal instead of plain ol' bone for a leg. I also cut myself a little slack. I lightened up on the "OMG I suck" mantra that can sometimes rule the mind. Just like it was likely his first time in yoga class, it was my first time instructing someone with this type of disability. We both needed to be kind to ourselves and eachother. Aparigraha, or non-attachment, was a definite next. Talk about letting sh*t go! What a task to detach from all the pre-conceived notions and expectations that naturally arose from taking one glance at J. After all, he was able to detach from his own probable pre-conceived notions and expectations in order to even stop foot (er, um, prosthetic foot) into a yoga class! I could learn a thing or two from him. Isvara-pranidhana, or surrending to God (or higher power), was possibly the most prevalent of the Niyamas that showed its face. I knew I was professionally capable of instructing J safely, what with being a physical therapist and all. And I am a yoga teacher, specifically Yogabilitation, which claims to be accessible and appropriate for all. All the props a yogi could want were ready and available. J made his way through his own probable doubts and fears to show up. Check, check, and check. Now what? I could not and did not try to control anything else. Surrendering to something bigger was the only option. I had trust in myself, in J, and in God.

And class went on. There were some rocky moments, where at first I wasn't sure how best to assist J, and we had to be creative together. There were some total rockstar moments on his behalf as well, where I think he surprised the both of us. I am pleased to say he returned for another class, and another, and another. I see him every week. He, as well as the whole experience, has taught me so much. It may seem negligible, because that moment of insecurity was so brief, and there was ultimately a beautiful outcome. However, it was the moment that made me realize that I have 8 limbs in my heart already. Even if I don't fully understand them, even if I curse at someone in traffic, even if I not-so-by-accident toss a plastic bottle in the garbage because I can't find the recycle bin. I'm human! I'm trying my best. I love yoga and fully respect and honor the ancient teachings that my physical practice is rooted in. At times I can feel like an inadequate yogi...because I eat meat, because I lose my patience, because I'd sometimes rather listen to phone taps on 96.1 instead of Krishna Das. That doesn't mean I am not practicing mindfulness in everything I do. My true yoga practice came out that day I first met J, I'll never forget it. I was a real person with my own challenges, dealing with another real person with his own challenges. We worked it out. It didn't matter that J was missing a limb...he has 8 in his heart. As do I, as does everyone. They are there already.

Footprints on my Heart

That's right. This little foot has imprinted it's way right onto my heart (and all my organs from the way it feels!) I swore I would not be one of "those" women who make the announcement publicly, but I simply could not help myself. My website includes a blog so that family, friends, and the yoga community I feel so deeply connected to can share in whatever I am being inspired by. These days, I can hardly find anything more inspirational than this growing life inside. Brian and I are astounded every day...and continue to say it outloud..."I can't believe there is real live baby in there."  

Part of me wants to fast forward to the good parts. Pregnancy is over. Labor is over. The baby is here. He (yes, HE) coos, giggles, graces all of his milestones. I capture these little moments on camera/video. Family and friends ooh and aah over him. I get to be a mom. While all of that happens, I will be looking to the next milestone, moment, phase. All the stages of my own life, and his, fly by before I know it.

We do this all the time, on and off our yoga mat. We do it with seasons, work projects, school semesters, vacations, etc...we constantly wish and look forward to the next happening. Think about how many times in a year we say "I can't wait for xyz...", or "once xyz is over I can start the next xyz." We plan, anticipate, make space for what's about to happen. But then we forget to ENJOY the space we've created. We almost enjoy the anticipation of the moment more than the actual moment itself. Why?? Human nature, probably. This is precisely why the breath is so important in our asana practice. Our inhale creates space, prepares us for what is about to happen. Our exhale is just as important, if not more important than the inhale--because we then get to GO THERE. USE the space we have created. 

It makes me sad if the same were to be true with the birth of my child. I can't imagine how ANYTHING could be better than right now. I want to forever breathe into this moment. The same will hold true during his birth, smiles, steps, and so forth. That is how we live in the present moment. Truth is, I really do like it here, now. Even with some of the typical pregnancy -isms (although not many, I have been very lucky), being in this state is truly awesome. Every day is different; I learn something about my body, mind, relationships, yoga practice. To live day to day in a functional world, we have to sometimes look to the future and learn from the past. There is stress, anxiety, pain, angst that can come with that. But if we are constantly looking to the next thing, our life passes by. The stress, anxiety, pain, angst stays with us. If we take the time to exhale and enjoy the space we are in, there is our present. Nothing will pass us by. We are able to allow those footprints to stick to our hearts. Updates on baby boy Fulton to come! Namaste!