Moving Meditation: thoughts on yoga, books, music, & activism

Yoga Playlist, Part VII

2012-02-06T23:14:00.000-07:00

I've had some requests to post this playlist. You can also listen to this playlist on Spotify by clicking here. (Amy, I think the song you want is "River May Come.") :)

Hope everyone has a terrific week!

Change of Time, by Josh Ritter
Closer to the Sun, by Slightly Stoopid
The World at Large, by Modest Mouse
Lights, by Ellie Goulding
Lonely Boy, by The Black Keys
Love and Inity, by Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley
Howlin' for You, by The Black Keys
Daylight, by Matt and Kim
Waiting on You, by Sun Airway
Flower, by Moby
Secret Meeting, by The National
All the Same to Me, by Lucero
Somebody That I Used to Know, by Gotye
Something Beautiful, by NEEDTOBREATHE
Against the Bottom, by Grieves
Back Down South, by Kings of Leon
River May Come, by the Wild Yaks
These Days, by The Black Keys
Gagging Order, by Radiohead
Transatlanticism, by Death Cab for Cutie

Yoga Playlist, Part VI: Hip Hop Class

2012-01-29T22:53:00.000-07:00

I had such a great time putting this playlist together, and I hope the music made for a fun class. Below are the playlist details, including some Spotify -- oh, the wonders of Spotify!! -- links, which should allow you to listen to most of the songs. I've put an asterisk next to the songs that aren't currently available on Spotify. (It's a shame they're not; Sweatshop Union and Collective Efforts are two of my favorites.)

Class Playlist:

Be, by Common
Definition, by Black Star
Identity Cards (feat. Luckyiam), by Grieves
Passin' Me By, by The Pharcyde
Empire State of Mind (feat. Alicia Keys), by Jay-Z
Here I Come, by The Roots
Remember the Name, by Fort Minor
Big Pimpin'/Papercut, by Linkin Park & Jay-Z
As We Enter, by Nas & Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley
Timelines, by Sweatshop Union*
Another Day, by Crown City Rockers
Puppets, by Atmosphere
Ghetto Rock, by Mos Def
Strugglin', by K'naan
Check the Rhime, by A Tribe Called Quest
Made in America, by Kanye West & Jay-Z
Let It Alone (feat. Manchild), by Collective Efforts*

(Click here to listen to most of the above songs on Spotify.)

Pre- and Post-class Playlist:

What's Hardcore?, by K'naan
Moment of Clarity, by Jay-Z
Like Toy Soldiers, by Eminem
Seasons, by Collective Efforts*
Quiet Dog, by Mos Def
Listen!!!, by Talib Kweli
On the Rocks, by Grieves
100% Dundee, by The Roots
The Thing About It, by Sweatshop Union*
Doo Wop (That Thing), by Lauryn Hill

(Click here to listen to most of the above songs on Spotify.)

Blakroc Collaboration
Also, a friend recently told me about Blakroc, which is a collaboration between The Black Keys and a group of rap artists (including Mos Def, Raekwon, RZA, NOE, Pharoahe Monch, Q-tip, Nikki Wray, Billy Danze, and Jim Jones). I'm probably a little late to the game on this one, but I thought I'd mention it in case you are too. You can learn more by visiting the Blakroc website, and you can listen to the EP by clicking here to visit Spotify. I ended up watching every one of the video "webisodes" one night, and I've become a little obsessed with this album!

Week of January 29th: Let Joy Be Your Lesson

2012-01-28T08:56:00.000-07:00

Three quotes come to mind this week as I prepare to teach my yoga classes.

Don't postpone joy until you have learned all of your lessons.

Joy is your lesson.

~Alan Cohen~

From the song "Be" by Common, which is part of my hip hop playlist for Sunday's noon class:

Never lookin' back or too far in front of me, the present is a gift and I just wanna be.

And a quote from a sticker I have hanging in my closet:

The meaning of life is to live it.

This week -- and every week -- I hope your yoga practice is about building awareness, being in the present moment, and having a lot of fun.

I also want to mention a new four-disc album called Chimes of Freedom that Amnesty International has released. The album features an incredibly diverse group of musicians covering Bob Dylan's songs. Artists include Steve Earle, Rise Against, Ziggy Marley, My Morning Jacket, State Radio, Michael Franti, K'naan, Queens of the Stone Age, Tom Morello, and Flogging Molly, to name just a few. And Ke$ha seriously surprised me! Definitely worth checking out. (At the moment at least, the entire album is available on Spotify, although I'm not sure how it works and I hope Amnesty makes money off that arrangement.)

Next week I'll be paying tribute to Bob Marley for his birthday! Have a great week.

More Coolness from Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen

2012-01-25T21:26:00.000-07:00

I wrote about these fabulous people not too long ago, and a friend just sent me this clip. Enjoy!

Week of January 22nd: Yoga Creates Fertile Ground

2012-01-22T21:50:00.000-07:00

This week in my classes I'm talking about something that David Swenson shared during a panel at this past fall's Yoga Journal Conference in Estes Park. (If you ever have the opportunity to study with David Swenson, take that opportunity! He is amazing, down-to-earth, funny, and very practical. Click here to read about a workshop I took with him in 2010.)

During the panel, the subject of yoga practitioners and egos came up. Swenson said (and I'm paraphrasing here based on some notes I took) that yoga creates fertile ground. The more you practice, the more fertile it is. So you have to be careful which seeds you plant -- if you plant an ego, you can grow an even bigger ego than normal.

This makes good sense to me, and of course this idea of fertile ground applies to more than just your ego. This week I'm asking my students to determine what seeds they want to plant for their practice and then to set an intention around whatever they're working toward. It can be anything at all -- the point is to be thoughtful about it and then to bring awareness to it. And then practice!

Yoga is 99% practice and 1% theory.

~ K. Pattabhi Jois ~

My New Most Favorite Quote

2012-01-16T17:23:00.000-07:00

Life's most persistent and urgent question is, "What are you doing for others?"

~ Martin Luther King, Jr. ~

Week of January 15th: We're the Heirs to the Glimmering World

2012-01-14T22:33:00.009-07:00

I recently read a New Yorker piece about the TV show "Portlandia," which I've wanted to see for a long time (I think its first season is now available on Netflix). The New Yorker article is about the show but also very much about Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen, the stars of the show. Brownstein is also a member of the band Wild Flag and was part of the band Sleater-Kinney when they were together. It's worth reading the entire article, but the part of it that made the biggest impression on me was a quote from Miranda July, Brownstein's friend (who also happens to have a cool website landing page). Following is the relevant excerpt from the article:

When Miranda July tried to explain why she and Brownstein had stayed friends since their riot-grrrl days, she began to say the word “ambition,” but hesitated. Instead, she said that they shared “a steady focus on what we are going to do next. We’re always asking each other, ‘What’s the next project?’ And, that being the throughline in our lives, more than relationships, that becomes pretty meaningful, at a certain point."

I can really relate to this. "What's next?" is a constant question in my life, and I mean this in the most positive way. I drive the people around me a little crazy sometimes, but living like this works great for me and has thus far resulted in a truly joyful -- and I hope somewhat useful -- life. (Sometimes it's frustrating that I can't do more at once, which is yet another reason I'm working on patience!)

Every six months or so, I dedicate the yoga classes that I teach to a conversation about the benefits of setting specific goals for oneself. I've talked about setting these goals and living with intention, and I've provided handouts to serve as post-savasana reminders for students to set some goals for themselves.

I struggle with goal-setting -- I'll plan to set concrete goals and then get busy and forget, or I'll have too many ideas (sometimes conflicting ideas) and get intimidated about which goals I should choose -- so I thought maybe a little push on this would be worthwhile for other people too.

This week I'll provide similar handouts (I've included the handout text at the bottom of this post), and I'll ask folks to think more about this idea of "what's next."

A few days after reading that New Yorker article, I was listening to the song, "The Geese of Beverly Road," by The National. Some of its lyrics that I love most are, "We're the heirs to the glimmering world." How beautiful is that! Take some time to decide what's next for you in this glimmering world.

HANDOUT TEXT:

Live with intention.

Set short- and long-term goals. Write them down. Do this four times per year. Try to set at least two personal goals, two professional goals, and one health goal. Consider setting financial goals (simplifying or de-cluttering your life can be a financial goal). Consider setting spiritual goals, which could be as simple as a renewed focus on taking right action in your daily life.

Be specific. For example, instead of saying, “I will learn to meditate,” say, “I will get up 10 minutes earlier each morning and meditate for five minutes.” Instead of saying, “I will donate more to charity,” say, “I will donate X% of my monthly income to charity.”

Then remember that life happens. Flexibility is key. Setting these goals isn’t about lists or checkboxes or even about concrete achievements. It’s about living with intention. When you set goals that are based on your values and your hopes for this world, it becomes easier to make decisions, even the big, difficult decisions. When you live with intention, you can truly “be the change you want to see.”

Namaste.

Yoga Playlist, Part V

2012-01-08T14:35:00.026-07:00

Update: I've recently discovered the wonders of Spotify, so you can listen to most of this playlist by clicking here! I think the only songs below that are not available on my Spotify playlist are those by Collective Efforts, Timmy Curran, and Sweatshop Union.

I've had some requests for this playlist as well - enjoy!

Infinity, by The XX
To Travels & Trunks, by Hey Marseilles
Flower, by Moby
Doin' Alright, by Collective Efforts
I Know I'm Not Alone, by Michael Franti & Spearhead
Forever, by Timmy Curran
I Follow Rivers, by Lykke Li
Hit the Wall, by Sweatshop Union
Young Blood, by The Naked and Famous
Animal, by Miike Snow
Kill Your Heroes, by AWOLNATION (these guys have really grown on me)
Where's the Love, by Trevor Hall
All the Same to Me, by Lucero
Green Gloves, by The National
Lucky Now, by Ryan Adams
The Poet, by Ryan Bingham & The Dead Horses (please, please, please come to Denver soon)
Monster Ballads, by Josh Ritter

Also, following is what I've been most obsessed with over the last few weeks:

Grieves - 88 Keys and Counting (with Budo)
White Rabbits - It's Frightening (The song "Percussion Gun" is awesome.)
A.A. Bondy - American Hearts, When the Devil's Loose, Believers (his albums are all very different)
Everything by The White Buffalo, but especially Hogtied Revisited.
Jay-Z and Kanye West - Watch The Throne (but I must say it would be better if Kanye didn't get to make up his own lyrics)
Everything by Lucero because I'm very excited they're coming to Denver's Bluebird Theater in March.

This is why I like having a blog. I get to share this stuff even though it's highly likely no one else cares! Have a great week, everyone!

Yoga Playlist, Part IV: Sons of Anarchy-inspired

2012-01-08T14:31:00.002-07:00

I've had many students ask me to send them the below playlist, so I thought I'd post it. I watched seasons 1, 2, 3, and 4 of Sons of Anarchy in a span of just a few months, and I found myself a little obsessed with the music on the show. And FX makes it easy to find out which songs they've used, so I didn't even have to use the Shazam app on my sad, old iPhone.

This playlist was merely inspired by the show; not all of these songs or artists have been featured on SOA. Enjoy!

Update: Click here to listen to most of the below songs on Spotify.

Gula Gula, by Mai Boine
Blood Bank, by Bon Iver
In the Future, by Bushwalla (I found this song via Weeds)
Crabbuckit, by K-OS
For You, by Matisyahu
Girl from the North Country, by the Lions (it is impossible to get tired of this song)
I Can Breathe Again, by Baywood (I think we may be looking at a one-hit wonder here, but it's a good one)
Hey Mama, by Mat Kearney
Manhattan, by Kings of Leon
Sorrow, by The National
The Dream (feat. Senor Kaos), by Collective Efforts
Head Full of Doubt / Road Full of Promise, by The Avett Brothers
Burn This Town, by Battleme
White Daisy Passing, by Rocky Votolato
Where Dirt and Water Collide, by The White Buffalo
Hey Hey, My My, by Battleme
All My Days, by Alexi Murdoch

Other great songs played on the show (and there are many!) but maybe not so suitable for a yoga playlist:

Burn It Down, by AWOLNATION
Family, by Noah Gunderson
Coal War, by Joshua James
Mary, by Patty Griffin
Shiny Eyes, by Flatfoot 56
John the Revelator, by Curtis Stigers & The Forest Rangers

The NYT Article Everyone Is Talking About

2012-01-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

I don't agree with everything said in this New York Times article -- and I'm not very happy with how it was all presented -- but I do think it's a worthwhile read. It certainly highlights the need to keep one's yoga practice as ego-free as possible (easier said than done, I know).

And, for one rebuttal to the article (I'm sure there will be many!), see this blog post.

Week of January 8th: A Thought from David Foster Wallace

2012-01-07T15:31:00.000-07:00

"If you can think of times in your life that you've treated people with extraordinary decency and love, and pure uninterested concern, just because they were valuable as human beings. The ability to do that with ourselves. To treat ourselves the way we would treat a really good, precious friend. Or a tiny child of ours that we absolutely loved more than life itself. And I think it's probably possible to achieve that. I think part of the job we're here for is to learn how to do it."

~ David Foster Wallace~

Week of January 1, 2012 - This Year, Go Big!

2012-01-01T15:03:00.000-07:00

To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.

~Pema Chodron~

Happy New Year! I was privileged to start the new year doing one of my most favorite things - guiding a class filled with awesome, dedicated yogis. As my mom says every year, this is going to be a good year :)

In this morning's class, I shared some information from Yoga Journal about abhyasa. Sally Kempton talks about abhyasa in a great article called "Navigating Change," which was in the October 2011 issue. She explains:

The very heart of the practice of yoga is abhyasa - steady effort in the direction you want to go.

I love this. It beautifully explains what we're doing on the yoga mat each of those moments we're there, and it's a terrific way to think about life off the mat. I've been thinking a lot lately about living with intention and setting goals, both short- and long-term, that are based on my values and what I hope to contribute to this world. I like the idea of setting goals and then working to make "steady effort in the direction you want to go."

Kempton goes on to explain that, once you've decided what sort of change you want to make in your life, "it's crucial to take action." Then, "...as you take your first small steps, you'll usually find that each step leads to another and that opportunities begin to show up in response." I love this too, and I've found it to be true.

So why not set a bold goal for yourself this year? Do something that takes courage. Do something you've been saying you'll do "someday." Then take action and begin to put forth "steady effort in the direction you want to go." You do this on your mat all the time! This year, go big! Throw yourself out of the nest!

Namaste,

Tiffany

P.S. If you're interested in learning more about abhyasa, I also highly recommend the article, "Hot Buddha, Cold Buddha," by Judith Hanson Lasater, which is available at Yoga Journal online.

Why Divorce Doesn't Have to Mean Failure

2011-12-29T16:34:00.001-07:00

As with everything I write, the following is based solely on my own experience, and I would never pretend to know the first thing about anyone else's experience with divorce. Of significant importance is that I don't have kids, and that alone makes my divorce a walk in the park compared to what many people go through. I'm also financially independent, something quite intentional that I've worked hard for, but also something I don't take for granted; I think most of us are probably one illness or layoff away from financial disaster, and divorce makes that reality even starker.

I've been married over nine years. That sounds like a fairly long time, but it doesn't feel so long to me. I was 26 when I got married, which I thought was fairly old, though now I see it wasn't, and, as seems generally recommended, we dated for a couple of years before getting married. We got married in a Catholic Church, so we did the Church's required premarital counseling, and we tried marriage counseling for a few months this year before we finally called it quits (if you've done marriage counseling yourself, my guess is you're cringing now just thinking about it).

My point is, I tried to do the whole marriage thing well. When I got married, I thought it would be for life. The hardest part about making the decision to divorce was figuring out when we'd crossed the line from "marriage is hard work" to "this marriage is really bad for us." You hear your whole life that you have to work hard at marriage. People who've been married for a long time will tell you they had "two bad years" and other things of that nature. So when you're in the middle of two bad years, how do you know whether to keep at it? I got the sense our marriage counselor thought her job was to try and keep us together, and I grabbed hold of that and kept trying. I'm sure a lot of that was driven by fear, but some of it was driven by a sense of obligation. It was hard to see outside of that. I'm used to trying to do the right thing, and staying married is supposedly the right thing.

But now, after six months of being separated, it's become apparent that we did the right thing when we decided to split up. When you're in the middle of it, it's hard to see how daily conflict affects your mental, emotional, and physical health, but, once that conflict is gone, wow, what a difference! One of my friends told me a few months ago that I seem rejuvenated; I think that's the result of not feeling like a shitty person all the time as you constantly assess and reassess your every action and word and feeling. It's exhausting. The freedom that comes from being yourself and liking yourself and focusing on people in your life who are there to support you...well, there's nothing like it. But I didn't know all of that was there for me until I knew all of that was there for me, if that makes sense.

I don't regret that it took a lot of time and conflict and sadness to get to our final decision. Sometimes you have to work through stuff, and I think you have to honor that. When I wasn't ready, I wasn't ready. Now I'm ready, and that's a blessing, and looking backwards with regret has no redeeming value that I can see.

I've had people ask me if getting divorced makes me feel like a failure. The answer to that is a resounding "no." I like who I am, and I love my life. My decisions (and a ton of luck) have put me here, and I can appreciate that not everything is going to be linear and clean and easy. I don't feel like my marriage was a mistake, and I'm grateful for each of the nine years I was married, even the crappy ones. I have a magnet on my fridge that says, "Be gentle with yourself, you are growing," and that comes to mind when I think about the last part of my marriage. Even when I thought I was just spinning my wheels, I was growing, learning, changing. Pretty incredible, really. I'm grateful for each moment of it.

One reason I feel good about where I am is that I kept doing what I wanted while I was married -- law school, yoga teacher training, concerts, trips, time with friends and family -- so my life now is something I, for the most part, created for myself. You could argue that this independence helped bring on my divorce -- and that's probably true -- but I far prefer it to the alternative. It's not that I never sacrificed or compromised (trust me, I did), but overall I held onto myself.

And of course I've learned things that will hopefully help me in the future. Looking back, I realize I was afraid to talk about problems because, ultimately, I was afraid we'd end up divorced. For a long time, divorce was the Worst Case Scenario, and I would do anything to avoid it. Now I'm living the Worst Case Scenario, and I'm doing just fine. Better than fine, in fact. I don't intend to let fear paralyze me like that again.

I also learned what it feels like when I'm resisting something. It's clear now that I knew some time ago my marriage wasn't working, but I resisted this knowledge for a long time. My yoga practice has provided me insight that will make it much more difficult for me to avoid truth in the future. I'm sure marriage counseling is useful for some, but the time spent on my yoga mat has been infinitely more valuable (and far cheaper). I am more in tune with what I want and with how I feel, and I'm far less inclined to keep moving through my life without pausing for reflection. I tend to be pretty impatient, but I'm consciously slowing down these days and trying to make reflection part of my everyday life. It's a challenge, but it's so worthwhile.

My blog used to have the word "marriage" in the title, so I have a lot of people visit the blog after googling things like "yoga and marriage." It's amazing how often I see search terms like this. Now, after this post, I expect some people will find my blog by googling "yoga and divorce." My hope for those people, if they're reading this, is that they'll recognize their own strength and, regardless of their situation, see that even your own Worst Case Scenario can provide space for growth and positive change.

I also have to mention how important my community has been through all of this. My family has been amazing, which doesn't surprise me one bit. I'm very lucky. And the friends I've made in the Denver yoga community; the friends I've made over the years at various jobs; the random friends I've made because I decided to ask someone out for coffee; old friends; new friends -- these people have been awesome. In fact, I've decided that most people are awesome. If you're going through a divorce (or any difficult time), and you don't have some friends to spend time with, my unsolicited advice to you is that you find some. If you meet someone and feel like you have things in common and something to talk about, invite that person to lunch or coffee! Three or four years ago, I would never have done this - never! Now I do it regularly. I credit my yoga practice for making me more open to meeting new people. Having good people around you makes life so much easier -- and so much more fun! Get involved in something that interests you, and then take it from there.

Namaste :)

Read Marc and Angel's blog post: "30 Things to Stop Doing to Yourself"

2011-12-15T23:50:00.011-07:00

Click here to read a blog post worth every second of your time.

Week of December 11th: Start from where you are

2011-12-13T21:32:00.000-07:00

Yoga begins with listening. When we listen, we are giving space to what is.

--Richard Freeman--

In Richard Freeman's book, The Mirror of Yoga, he talks about the necessity of starting from exactly where you are when beginning a yoga practice. He says that, regardless of what reason brings us to yoga, we must take a moment and be truly honest with ourselves: "No matter what your motivation for beginning a practice...if you can simply see the reality of that motivation, then you have found the proper place for beginning your own practice."

You may come to your practice to improve your health, or you may try yoga because a friend invited you. Maybe you just wonder what everyone's been talking about and you want to experience it for yourself. You might be trying to lose weight or otherwise change your body. Or maybe you're hoping to broaden your community. It doesn't matter why you've come; it just matters that you take the time to recognize -- with honesty -- why you've come.

Freeman goes on to say, "The particulars of why we come to yoga may take on any number of forms, and all of them are honorable starting points for the practice because each doorway that reveals itself is a path into the deep matrix of what yoga truly is, and each entrance reveals that ultimately we have come in search of the mystical experience -- a timeless sense of complete freedom and happiness."

This week, as you greet your yoga mat, take a moment to ask yourself what brought you there. Begin by listening. Honor whatever your reason is, and ground yourself in the present moment. Start from there.

Namaste!

Week of December 4th: Gratitude for Your Body

2011-12-07T06:00:00.032-07:00

During the close of each yoga class I teach, I ask the students to take a moment to feel gratitude for their bodies, what their bodies do for them during their yoga practice and what their bodies do for them each day. I do this at the end of my own practice, and I do my best to bring such gratitude to mind periodically throughout my day. This week I decided to share some background on this with the students in my classes.

Many years ago -- I think it was very early in the Iraq war -- I read an article about some veterans who had just returned home. One thing that struck me (and continues to knock me off balance on a regular basis) was how incredibly young these veterans were. The men I was reading about in this particular article were around 20 years old.

One of them had returned home without either of his legs. When asked by the interviewer how he was handling his new life and dealing with such a tragedy, he responded that he had never taken his legs for granted. He had appreciated them constantly while he had them. When he ran, he marveled at how amazing his legs were. Knowing he hadn't taken his legs for granted was helping him deal with his loss. I don't remember where I read this or even what all the details were, but I clearly remember how wise this man was and how moved I was by what he said.

I carefully considered whether to share this story with my classes because the story is in so many ways a sad one, but I decided the message was too important (and, for me, life-changing) to keep to myself. My hope is that I'm able to share this story in such a way that listeners recognize it as a celebration of the body and an opportunity to practice gratitude.

So often we spend our time focused on what we don't like about our physical bodies. My hope is that the next time you are inclined to pick yourself apart and worry about your looks, your weight, or how you compare to others, you will instead take a moment to marvel at your body. Revel in your body. Wiggle your fingers and toes, lift your arms above your head, take a deep breath, blink your eyes. Everything can change in an instant. Please don't take what you have for granted.

Namaste :)
Tiffany

Week of November 27th: You Are Always Practicing SOMETHING

2011-11-29T06:00:00.016-07:00

This past weekend in my yoga classes, I shared a quote by the writer Carlos Castaneda. He said, "The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same."

We are always practicing something. Whether we notice it or not, we are telling ourselves certain stories about our experiences and how we're feeling. This week I asked my students to focus on making their yoga practice a positive space in their lives, to make it a place where they practiced making themselves happy. It is such a blessing to have a space where you can be yourself, feel safe, and find perspective. Let your yoga mat be such a place.

Namaste!
Tiffany

For the Week of November 20th: Yoga is Your Natural State

2011-11-21T23:32:00.000-07:00

This week I'm talking a bit about this beautiful quote:

You cannot do yoga. Yoga is your natural state. What you can do are yoga exercises, which may reveal to you where you are resisting your natural state. -- Sharon Gannon (one of the founders of Jivamukti Yoga)

You are already whole. You are already perfect. You are already everything that you need.

How difficult is it for us to accept statements like these? For me, it can feel pretty weird to think this way. I'm not used to it. We're constantly striving to be something else, or something more - something we think is better. But when you bring yourself to a place of awareness, you can cultivate a feeling of wholeness and begin to explore this idea that yoga is your natural state.

When you observe the thoughts that come up while on your yoga mat, do your best to witness them without judging yourself. What you learn about yourself on your mat can transform your daily life.

What comes up for you when you're resisting a pose? Can you change things if you take a deep breath and surrender into the discomfort? How do you react when you're unhappy with the teacher, or distracted by the person next to you? What do you say internally when you can't get into a pose? Observe these things, but don't criticize yourself when you notice negative thoughts or a wandering mind. Just be a witness.

And know that each time you bring your mind to the present moment -- whether it's to focus on an inhale breath, to concentrate on lifting through the arch of your left foot, or to soften your gaze -- you give yourself something of great value. The present moment is the most important thing you have. I often tell people that my yoga practice brings me instant perspective. Unimportant concerns and negative emotions are stripped away as awareness and gratitude inevitably creep in. Even more powerful, this positivity and strength begin traveling beyond the yoga room and into the rest of your life.

Theme for the Week of November 6th:

2011-11-06T12:00:00.003-07:00

Yoga Playlist, Part III

2011-10-30T20:20:00.003-06:00

Update: Click here to listen to most of the below songs via Spotify.

Another playlist: it's about time, I know! Following please find some of the songs I play often in the classes I teach. They aren't listed in any particular order, although I structure my own playlists according to the sequence I've planned for a specific class.

A couple of things to keep in mind: I teach power-style yoga, and I play some music in those classes that I wouldn't play in, say, a restorative class. I also try to mix different styles of music into every yoga playlist I put together; that way, if a student in my class doesn't like a song or style of music, hopefully s/he will like others.

"For You," by Matisyahu
"Gasoline," by The Silent Comedy
"Down in the Valley," by The Head and the Heart
"I Can Breathe Again," by Baywood
"Hit the Wall," by Sweatshop Union (use the clean/edited version)
"Don't Think Twice, It's All Right," by Bob Dylan
"Sail," by AWOLNATION
"The Polite," by Katie Todd
"Remember Who You Are," Eligh, Living Legends, and the Grouch
"Bliss," by Yogini (Putomayo Presents Yoga)
"Mango Tree," by Angus and Julia Stone
"Fire in the Sky," by John Butler Trio
"Song for the Road," by David Ford
"Waiting for the End," by Linkin Park
"Start a War," by The National
"Heights of Diamond," by Adam Haworth Stephens
"All the Best," by John Prine
"I and Love and You," by The Avett Brothers
"Giri's Song," by Trevor Hall
"Soya," by Ali Farka Toure

I hope this is a useful resource. Please let me know if you have any questions about these, and feel free to comment below and add your own suggestions.

For the Week of October 30: Let Go of Your Old Nonsense!

2011-10-30T13:45:00.000-06:00

This week I'm focused on another terrific quote from Darren Main (you can sign up for his quote-of-the-day emails at his website; click to sign up for his e-newsletter, and then check the box for "Daily Wisdom").

"Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I just love this. Who doesn't need to let go of some old nonsense? Give yourself a break. Treat yourself with the same kindness you bestow on the others in your life. Cultivate this letting go and forgiveness on your yoga mat, and see if you can't take that same idea out into the rest of your day. Better yet, see if you can take it even further and begin each new moment serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with the past. It's a tall order, but, the more you try, the more success you'll have.

Namaste!

Theme for the Week of October 23rd: Nonjudgment

2011-10-23T12:00:00.000-06:00

There's a worthwhile documentary on yoga called Yoga Unveiled. Rodney Yee is interviewed in the film, and I really liked something he said:

"Yoga is to bring us back to our true nature, whether it's the nature of our body to be open and flexible and responsive, or also to the nature of our mind, which is to be like a little child -- the mind becomes one of observation and not judgment. So that it brings us back to our natural state..."

This week I'll be talking a bit about attempting to practice nonjudgment on and off the mat. Sometimes we especially need reminded that we should say nice things to ourselves while we're on our mats (and in the rest of our lives too). We can get caught up telling ourselves stories about our abilities and inabilities or about the people on the mats around us or the people back at the office or waiting for us at home. The yoga mat is a place where we can begin making our thoughts and the stories we tell ourselves more positive and beneficial.

We can also start to bring our practice to a place of meditation, where we are deeply in our bodies and able -- even if for just a few seconds at a time -- to merely observe our practice instead of getting caught up in thoughts and judgment. And, during those minutes spent on the yoga mat, our practice will be making our bodies --and our minds-- stronger, more open, and more flexible.

As you practice this week, check in with yourself from time to time. Are you saying nice things to yourself? Are you focusing on your breath, allowing your mind to take a break from the constant judgment and stories we often loop round and round? When you focus on your left big toe or pulling your belly in, you are giving your mind a break. The benefits of this are huge, and you will find yoga even more valuable if you try to make your mat a positive, safe place. Remember, it's just yoga -- don't take yourself too seriously! -- and see if you can't send yourself some good energy while you're practicing.

Theme for the Week of October 16th: Make Time to Renew

2011-10-16T12:00:00.049-06:00

view from Waikiki Beach, Oahu

This week (and every week!) I am encouraging the folks in my yoga classes to give themselves some serious, well deserved credit for carving out time to get to their mats. So often we put everything else ahead of our health and well-being. It can be terribly difficult to make time for ourselves, especially if doing so results in guilt for spending time away from loved ones, the office, whatever feels more important. As a parent or caregiver, it can feel excruciating to leave the house for 90 minutes to take a yoga class or grab some coffee with a friend. And these important time-outs do us less good if we have a bunch of stress and anxiety tied up in our efforts to heal and replenish ourselves.

What if we change how we think about the time we set aside for ourselves? What if we learn to recognize its importance in our lives and the lives of the people who count on us?

In her book The Trance of Scarcity, Victoria Castle says, "Those of us who want to do good in the world are especially accountable to our own well-being. If we are to be of real service to humanity, we must make ourselves available to be nourished, inspired, and sustained. Otherwise, how would we keep going?"

This is profound on many levels, but two parts of this quote leap out at me. First, she says that those of us who want to do good in the world are especially accountable. Sometimes I think we believe the opposite; sometimes we behave like martyrs, giving to others and never taking time to renew ourselves. I also love the way Victoria says we must make ourselves available to be nourished, inspired, and sustained. It is up to us, and it is a necessity.

If we don't fill ourselves up, how can we expect to enrich the lives of others?

Your yoga practice is an opportunity for you to be renewed, replenished, nourished, inspired, and sustained (not to mention relaxed!). When you arrive on your mat this week, take a moment to feel good about your decision to spend some time there. Perhaps take a moment to feel gratitude for your yoga practice, your body, the blessings in your life that allow for your practice. Do the same if you go out for tea, a cocktail, a meal with friends or family. A daily gratitude practice -- even just a few minutes or seconds each day-- is itself nourishing, inspiring, and sustaining.

I have a bumper sticker that says, "The meaning of life is to live it." My hope for each of us is that we take the time to do just that. Spend some time every single day in your body and with your breath. Replenish yourself so you can continue to give to others. Serve as an example for the people in your life. How amazing would it feel to inspire your children, a parent, your spouse or partner, a friend, a coworker to be kind and good to themselves? Start a domino effect for the people around you.

Theme for the Week of October 9th: Abundance

2011-10-09T12:00:00.172-06:00

wildflowers in Crested Butte, CO

Yoga is very practical. On the yoga mat, we can learn more about how we're feeling off the mat: what we're resisting, what we're craving, what we need to let go. We can also use our yoga practice to cultivate what we want more of in our lives. For instance, cultivating a sense of gratitude on the mat inevitably leads to a more profound sense of gratitude and appreciation off the mat.

Yogic philosophy teaches us to practice non-attachment, or greedlessness. (Aparigraha, often translated as greedlessness, is one of the yamas in step one of Patanjali's eight-limbed path.) Practicing nonattachment can be difficult in our culture, which in many ways tells us to feel attachment, to want more and more, to worry about losing what we have. But, to feel greed or attachment, we must believe at a fundamental level there is a lack or scarcity. If you believe you'll always have what you need, there's no reason to feel selfish or attached.

This week I will encourage the practitioners in my classes to cultivate a sense of abundance during their yoga practice. A belief in abundance can feel like a radical idea, and it is. It's transformative. How incredible to come to a place where you believe -- where you know -- that you have everything you need, that you are everything you need. You are already enough. You are already complete. There is no need to compare yourself to the people around you, on the mat or off. There is no need to feel competitive. One of my favorite quotes (sadly, I must admit here that I got this quote from an episode of Army Wives!) is, "There's enough success in the world for everyone." If you believe this, there's no reason to feel envy or jealousy. The principle of abundance changes everything, and you can decide to embrace the principle of abundance.

This week I ask you to give this idea a try. I ask that you cultivate a deep sense of abundance during the moments you spend on your yoga mat and see if you can take that feeling out of the yoga room with you.

To feel a deep sense of abundance in your life, you have to let go of worry and anxiety. Another of my favorite quotes is, "Worry does not empty tomorrow of sorrow - it empties today of strength" (Carrie Ten Bloom). We can cultivate a sense of ease on our yoga mats that assists us elsewhere in our lives. We can learn to let go of the anxiety that clouds and clutters. None of this is easy -- I'm the first one to admit that! -- but it is so incredibly worthwhile.

When we believe in abundance -- when we feel a deep sense of abundance in our lives -- we can then cultivate selflessness. When we change our own story to one of abundance, it becomes easier than ever to be generous with our money, our time, whatever we have to share. Anne Frank said, "No one has ever become poor by giving." I find this sentiment beautiful and inspiring, and I hear it as a call to us to live a life of abundance and generosity. The more we give, the more we have. Be the change.

Namaste,

Tiffany

What are you waiting for?

2011-09-10T10:52:00.001-06:00

I'm currently reading Ana Forrest's new book, Fierce Medicine. I'm getting a lot out of it, and I recommend it. I'll likely write more on the book later, but I don't want to wait to share the following quote with you. Forrest talks about a quote from the Buddha that I had not heard before.

"The Buddha said, 'If you want to know what your future will be like, then look at your life right now.'"

At this particular point in my life, as I deal with significant and sometimes difficult transition, this quote resonates in a huge way. It tells me that the difficult decisions I'm making are precisely the ones that need to be made, and it inspires me to continue down a path of change and transformation. I'm not one to throw around those words hastily; it's a deeply serious and personal thing to address parts of your life that don't live up to what you want for your future.

Certainly this quote pertains to the major aspects of my life, but it also relates to the little things. For instance, I have always assumed that someday, when I'm really a grown-up (though I've never quite known when that would magically happen), I will have my act together and wake up early enough each morning to start my day with yoga and meditation. This quote drives home something I probably always knew: if I don't/can't/won't do it now, I won't do it then either. It has inspired me to implement some things into my life now that need not wait, that should not wait. I have a busy schedule, and I tend to think, "When things calm down, I will change my eating habits, how I spend my money, how I spend my time," etc. Of course the list goes on and on. This is not an effective way to grow and evolve. Growth requires action, persistence, dedication.

And I suspect that the little changes will add up to big changes. If you've ever practiced yoga consistently for a period of time, you likely know this to be true. Your actions, persistence, and dedication add up to a life you feel good about. And that's pretty amazing. There are so many things we can't control, and yet there are so many things we can. "If you want to know what your future will be like, then look at your life right now."

Great new music you may not have heard

2011-08-27T18:23:00.000-06:00

Happy weekend, everyone! My thoughts are with those of you on the East Coast dealing with Hurricane Irene.

I haven't written much about music lately, but I continue to spend too much money on iTunes and concerts. Denver is such a terrific city for music - it would take a lot more willpower than I have to turn down so many opportunities to see great shows. Last night, my sister and I headed over to Lowry's Soiled Dove Underground for a show that made me very happy.

If you haven't heard The Milk Carton Kids yet, they're well worth checking out. The band consists of Joey Ryan and Kenneth Pattengale. They have two albums available as FREE downloads on their website. Their first album, Retrospect, is made up of songs they wrote individually but sing together; their second album, Prologue, is made up of songs they wrote together.

My sister and I heard The Milk Carton Kids for the first time when they opened for Joe Purdy earlier this year, and I signed up for their email list after that show so I'd know when they were back in town. Their banter is hilarious; if you have the chance to see them live, I highly recommend it. They announced yesterday that they plan to play in Denver again this spring.

Their openers last night were also good. Wes Kirkpatrick and Buddy are both laid-back, talented songwriters with lovely voices. I bought Kirkpatrick's album, Naps and Nightmares, at the merch table last night, and I've already listened to it twice today while driving. I already had some of Buddy's music, and it's likely you've heard him before; his work has been featured on multiple TV show soundtracks.

"Participate relentlessly in the manifestation of your own blessings..."

2011-08-20T10:06:00.001-06:00

Credit for this photo

Until I have more time to post, I'll try to share little things that are resonating with some of the people in my life. I shared the following quote with my yoga classes a few weeks ago, and I had several students stop after class and ask me to email the quote to them. It's close to my heart as well.

Elizabeth Gilbert wrote this, and I first read it on one of Darren Main's quote-of-the-day emails; you can sign up to get his quote emails at http://darrenmain.com/.

Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.

Summer, 2011

2011-07-18T23:26:00.003-06:00

"May all beings everywhere be happy and free."

I never expected to set this blog aside for over a year, but it became increasingly difficult for me to keep up the blog while simultaneously growing my yoga teaching and my personal practice. I needed to take a break from the blog, but I have certainly missed writing, and I have missed the online yoga community I was so happily part of when I had more time.

In many ways it's been a weird, unexpected year, but, no matter what else was going on in my life, my yoga practice has provided me grounding, perspective, joy, and strength. No matter what the circumstance, I am always reminded that this practice is real. And it's a blessing for which I am constantly grateful.

While I still can't promise frequent postings, I do intend to post when I can, especially as my studies provide me with additional insights that may be helpful to others. Thanks so much for visiting, and please check back again. Namaste.

Today's post is over at ele

2010-06-24T22:00:00.000-06:00

Please visit elephant journal to read my re-published post, "Seven Things I Want to Tell My Beginner Yoga Students."

Two Book Reviews: Factory Girls & Farewell, My Subaru

2010-06-20T22:10:00.002-06:00

BOOK REVIEW: FACTORY GIRLS: FROM VILLAGE TO CITY IN A CHANGING CHINA, BY LESLIE T. CHANG

The author of Factory Girls, Leslie T. Chang, originally went to China to report for the Wall Street Journal. While living there, she spent a lot of time visiting the city of Dongguan, which is a huge industrial city filled with factories. For three years, Chang kept in touch with two migrant workers in particular, and she primarily focuses her story on these two women. But she also tells us about a variety of other men and women she encounters along the way, and the result for the reader is what seems like a pretty good understanding of how it must feel to be part of the "largest migration in human history."

What I love most about this book is the way Chang has chosen to tell these stories. A couple of months ago, I read an amazing article in Mother Jones magazine by journalist Mac McClelland (the article is called "For Us Surrender Is Out of the Question"). In this article, an amazing piece of investigative journalism, McClelland allows herself to be part of the picture she paints. She is a player in the story; as she interviews young men risking their lives to tell the outside world about what is going on in Burma, she lives with them and talks to them. Those conversations enter the article and, I think, take the reader deeper.

Some of the criticism McClelland received said that she had inserted herself into the article too much and that some of her own actions were, at least to some extent, insensitive to the feelings of the men she interviewed. I felt differently about it. I thought I could relate better to everyone in the story as well as better understand the bigger picture as a result of McClelland's writing style. And I think her honesty provides insight and an element of truth we wouldn't otherwise get. I feel the same way about Leslie Chang's writing in Factory Girls.

In the last episode of Bill Moyers Journal, Moyers quotes Edward R. Murrow, who said that bias in journalism is okay as long as you don't try to hide it. McClelland tells the Burma story from her perspective, and that is always clear to the reader. In the same way, Chang tells the story of the Chinese migrant workers from her unique perspective. It adds value to the story, and it takes a certain amount of courage.

Chang, a Chinese American, talks a lot about her own family's history in Factory Girls. Her grandfather was a courageous man who played a significant role in Chinese history, and his story and the story of his children are set alongside the stories of the modern migrant workers.

In addition to researching and telling the story of her family, which is clearly not easy for the author, to a lesser extent Chang allows her own story to be part of the book. To write about them, Chang had to get to know these migrant women, sometimes going so far as to live temporarily with them and their families. She cares about them and the decisions they make, and her personal opinions are part of this book. Chang can also be very critical of China, though she is hopeful that the country can and will change for the better.

Factory Girls provides the reader with a vivid picture of what life is like for young women in China who have migrated from their small villages to the big cities to work in factories. The hours are long, the work is hard, and the bosses are often unkind. It's incredibly hard for these women, some of whom are only fifteen or sixteen years old, to make real friends or find anyone to count on. Workers jump factories regularly in search of better pay and better working conditions, and usually the only communication tool they have is a cell phone. If a worker leaves her cell phone on the bus by mistake, she will likely lose contact with every person she's met since "going out" (leaving the village to migrate to the city).

One of the women Chang follows believes strongly that she can only rely on herself, and the book shows why this individualist belief is new and really quite revolutionary in modern China. The author spends weeks in a small Chinese village, noting that there is never a moment of privacy there. The individual has no place in the village (even Chang's attempt at reading a book by herself for a few minutes raises eyebrows), but, in the chaotic, busy city, these women are learning what it's like to make their own decisions and create lives focused on what they personally want to achieve.

One of the girls writes in her diary, "I HAVE NO TIME TO BE UNHAPPY BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO DO." In reading Chang's book, one learns just how radical this sentiment is when compared with the options these women have traditionally had. Though their parents believe their children are migrating to the city temporarily and will eventually marry someone from their province and return to their home village, it is apparent by the end of Factory Girls that many of these migrants will never return home. In going to the city, they've found a new life that, despite its dangers and hardships, seems to promise more opportunity for happiness than village life ever could.

In providing a detailed look at the lives of a few specific individuals, I think Factory Girls gives the reader a broader understanding of today's China and the lives of both migrant workers and their village families. (In the reader's guide at the end of the paperback edition, Chang talks about why she chose to focus on individual people in order to tell the larger story.) Chang's method allows insight that isn't available when we read news articles that list statistics and general information. Those articles are valuable too, but I feel I've gained a far deeper understanding of Chinese culture from this book than I ever could just keeping up with the news.

That's probably why I finished this book completely conflicted. My carbon footprint is absolutely unacceptable, and much of that footprint comes from purchasing goods made in faraway places. I don't even want to imagine how many belongings of mine were made in China and transported more than 6,000 miles via fossil fuels. Not to mention that I paid inexpensive prices for these goods while the factory workers earned something like $80/month to work 11-hour days in horrible conditions.

From an environmentalist perspective, "Made in China" is a bad thing (and not just because of the carbon impact). From a workers' rights perspective, "Made in China" is a bad thing. From a U.S. trade deficit perspective, "Made in China" is a bad thing. But Factory Girls showed me that these young people have new opportunities they wouldn't have without this new economy.

I'm not saying I plan to purposefully buy more goods made in China, but this book underscores the complicated nature of these issues. The environmental impact of China's industrial output is enormous and terrifying, but it's difficult to feel moral outrage when we've allowed the same kind of industry to pollute and thrive and provide us comforts in our own country for years and years. (And note the red chart titled "Little Bundle of Carbon" in this Mother Jones article about population.)

In the book Farewell, My Subaru, which I'll talk about next, author Doug Fine endeavors to live as locally as possible. He without a doubt understands everything I'm saying here, and he doesn't make light of the complex issues we face as we try to live locally. But he talks a bit about goods made in China, and, in discussing his hope to get "most of what [he needs] close to home," he says, "I want to send as many Chinese factory slaves back to the countryside as I can."

I get his point, and the work conditions the Chinese migrants face are truly awful. But reading Factory Girls showed me that, in general, these migrants don't want to go back to the countryside. The environmental problems, the trade deficit problems, the workers' rights problems, the global quest for an improved standard of living and its effect on climate change, these are all huge problems mired in nuance, hypocrisy, unfairness, privilege, greed, and ignorance. I must say, the more I learn, the more worried and uncertain I am about our future as a planet.

So often in the West I think we treat progress and comfort as a zero-sum game, and we want to be the winners. Reading Factory Girls brings that into perspective. We've got to find ways to increase the standard of living elsewhere without bringing our planet to complete collapse, and that undoubtedly means drastically changing the way we live in the West. (As the unread books stacked on my nightstand show, my own consumption levels are completely out of hand.) But I'm also cautiously hopeful that renewable energy, clean technologies, conservation, and forward-thinking citizens and politicians (I know, I can't believe I said that either) will help us change the course we're on.

Lastly, before moving on to Fine's book, I also want to mention that, in Factory Girls, Chang provides basic but very helpful historical information about China. I was embarrassingly ignorant about China's history prior to reading this book, and I think it provided a solid and beneficial historical overview.

You can read more about Factory Girls in this New York Times book review.

BOOK REVIEW: FAREWELL, MY SUBARU: AN EPIC ADVENTURE IN LOCAL LIVING, BY DOUG FINE

Doug Fine is a journalist who spent years on the road covering conflict zones and other stories. In an effort to become carbon-neutral and live locally, he decided to move to rural New Mexico and buy a small ranch, and this book is about his experiences during the first year of this experiment.

My sister bought this book for me at The Boulder Bookstore recently, probably a) because I drive a Subaru and quite love it, despite its not-so-great MPG average (it's got a turbo engine), and b) because I talk about selling said Subaru at least once a week due to its not-so-great MPG average. I am constantly trying to decide whether it would be better to sell my Subaru and buy something with better fuel efficiency or whether it's better to keep my Subaru and just try to drive it as little as possible. I've had this dilemma with other appliances as well. Here's how the thought process goes.

My washer and dryer are not Energy Star-rated. Is it better for me to keep them and use them very conscientiously, or is it better for me to sell them or give them away and buy new ones? Several things must be considered. What if I sell them or give them away to someone who runs them all the time, regardless of load size or water temperature? I'm thoughtful about when and how I use these appliances, but their next owner may not be. And it took resources galore to build these appliances and transport them to where I live. Isn't it better for the environment for me to use them (thoughtfully) until they won't work anymore?

So goes the Subaru analysis. The turbo-engine Subaru is highly sought after, so I could sell my car easily. But what if the next driver doesn't care about fuel efficiency or carbon neutrality? In my opinion, I'm not in a position right now to be car-free (although that's certainly a dream of mine for the future), so is it better for me, a thoughtful gas-guzzling driver, to drive this Subaru? Or would it be better for me to buy a Prius (if I could afford one) and risk selling the Subaru to a thoughtless gas-guzzling driver? And how many nonrenewable resources went into that Prius I want to buy?

In his book, Fine makes it clear he's well acquainted with problems like these. He talks often about the hypocrisies of green living. His take on it? He says, "...I appreciate it when anyone gives a noble idea the ol' college try, even when it's rife with a little consumer hypocrisy." And I must say, I think I agree with him. Living in rural New Mexico and attempting to get his ranch working properly for the long-term, Fine has to rely on Wal-mart for some necessities, especially early on. He knows that, if his garden or goats or chickens don't work out, he'll buy groceries at Wal-mart rather than starve to death. And he realizes there will ultimately be a problem disposing of the batteries that store the sun's energy collected by his solar panels.

But, after selling his Subaru and moving to a vehicle run by biodiesel, Fine drives with almost no carbon footprint. In using solar energy to power his house and heat his water, he's able to live off the grid. In growing his own food and eating other local produce, he doesn't have to buy fruit produced half a world away and transported using fossil fuels.

One of my favorite points that Fine makes is that living locally doesn't mean that each person (or family) has to be able to do everything him or herself.  Different members of one's local community can perform different roles and provide different products and services; no one person has to be an expert on everything. I think this is easy to forget as we try to move toward more sustainable living. It doesn't have to be -- and it shouldn't be -- an isolated endeavor.

The bulk of Fine's book is really just the story of his personal journey towards a sustainable way of life. It's sprinkled with facts --e.g., "New Yorkers, possibly because they tend to walk rather than drive, emit only one third the carbon per capita of the average American"-- but the sources for these facts are not included in the book.  With me as reader, Fine is preaching to the choir, but I wonder if sources wouldn't have been a good idea for those less on board with what Fine's advocating.

Thus, for the most part, I found Fine's story less informative and more inspirational.  This isn't a how-to book, and that's part of what makes it so enjoyable.  Fine is a smart, funny guy who doesn't take himself too seriously, which makes for a good read.

Yet his story also worked its way into my life.  I'm in no position financially to install solar panels, but I found myself thinking about other somewhat significant changes I could make (my family has already nixed my plan to raise chickens, unfortunately). And reading about his garden was fun since we planted our second garden this summer, and things are starting to sprout. (Full disclosure and credit where it's due: my mom does virtually all of the gardening; Chad and I just oooo and awww about the cool stuff coming up through the ground.)

I don't know if it was intentional (though I suspect it was), but Fine tells his story with humor and self-deprecation and absolutely no lecturing or self-righteousness, and then at the end of the book he provides an afterword with a well written call to action.  He chooses then to talk about the "five most important conclusions" he's come to during his year of living locally, and he calls his readers to join him in voting for sustainable candidates, thinking about the carbon emissions that result from what we eat, driving on something other than fossil fuels, fighting sprawl in our communities, and staying informed about new carbon-reducing technologies. His arguments are convincing, and he follows the afterword with a list of resources.

Another great takeaway from Farewell, My Subaru, and perhaps even more important, is the sense of fun that Fine conveys as he embarks on what he calls his "epic adventure in local living." It really does feel like an adventure, and he seems to enjoy it to the fullest. He talks about the great people he meets in his new community, the goats he grows to love, the day he's reminded of the childhood lesson that jeans are supposed to get dirty. For me, it's like those moments in yoga class when you get upside down, realizing that, as a child, you did so often and without thinking too much about it.

We were not meant to sit inside and play video games or watch TV all day long. We're a part of nature - we're meant to spend some time out there. Fine admits to being an internet geek, and he uses Google to research many of his green projects. He's not advocating that we give up everything we know, but he does think we can change our ways to live more sustainable and much happier lives.

Album Review: Distant Relatives by Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley & Nas

2010-06-12T21:47:00.000-06:00

photo source

It's been a couple of weeks since I promised to post a review of Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley and Nas' new album, Distant Relatives. While I haven't had time to get my review written until now, I've been listening to the album frequently, and it feels like an old friend now.

Nas and Marley first worked together on a track for Marley's previous album, Welcome to Jamrock. The song was "Road to Zion," and I highly, highly recommend it.

I first heard "Road to Zion" and some of their other collaborations when I saw Marley and Nas perform together at Red Rocks Amphitheatre last summer. I loved the show, and I've been waiting for the Distant Relatives album ever since.

For some great detail on Marley, Nas, and the new album, I recommend the New York Times article on Distant Relatives written by Rob Kenner. Kenner has background, access, and knowledge that I don't, so I'll just add my two cents about the album itself.

As with most any record, some of this album's songs are better than others. For the most part, though, Distant Relatives is consistently really, really good. But I do have a few complaints.

The only bad song on the album is so bad that I haven't listened all the way to the end. It's called "My Generation," and it features Lil Wayne and Joss Stone. I quite like Lil Wayne, and I don't dislike Joss Stone, but this song does not work. Add in a children's chorus, which they did, and I'm done. Can't listen to it. I dread the day I hear this song during a yoga class (which will definitely happen, I promise you).

Special note to musicians everywhere: Please, stop with the children's choruses. (Yes, Wyclef, this includes you.) They do not make the song more moving. They do not make you seem more compassionate. All they do is make me hit the forward button. (I make one exception for Michael Franti, who sometimes brings kids on stage at the end of his show and lets them sing the last song with him. For some reason, this children's chorus is cool. I'm guessing it has something to do with it being a live show and, of course, it being Michael Franti.)

I must also point out that one song on Distant Relatives includes a sentence or two of hip hop's tired old misogynistic BS equating the feminine with weakness. It's nothing like some of the other hip hop lyrics out there, but I did notice it, and it did piss me off.

Lastly, no one should have let Nas talk on and on towards the end of the song "Africa Must Wake Up." Again, I am biologically driven at that point to hit the forward button. Where was the producer on this one?

Special note to musicians everywhere: You do not need to explain the album name to us. This is especially true when the album's name is Distant Relatives. Part of the beauty of an album title is that it doesn't need explaining; it's meant to be a subtle, artful way to convey meaning. Let it be.

But enough of the negative.

Two of the best songs on the album are the songs that feature K'Naan, one of my favorite hip hop artists (I'll talk more about him in my next post). Despite Nas' rambling at the end of "Africa Must Wake Up," the song itself is incredible, and Marley's voice is mesmerizing. The song reaches an entirely new level when K'Naan sings his verse in Somali.

K'Naan's second solo, on "Tribes at War," is just as compelling. He speaks in English on this song, and it's worth listening closely. In his article, Kenner uses the word "searing" to describe Nas' lyrics on "Road to Zion"; K'Naan's performance on "Tribes at War" could be described the same way.

I think Nas' strongest performance on this album is "Strong Will Continue." Kenner explains in his article that Nas is speaking about his personal life in this song, and I wondered about that after hearing it the first time. It's got a different, more powerful vibe to it than his other work on this album. Especially near the end of the song, I feel such empathy for him as I listen.

As for Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley, I love his music. I hope he's already working hard on his next album because I'm ready for it! I've had several friends tell me they think he sounds just like his dad, Bob Marley. I love Bob Marley, and their voices are similar, but I do think Damian has a unique voice, and it's especially distinct on Distant Relatives. He certainly has a musical style all his own. I'm not surprised to see him blend reggae with hip hop in such a beautiful, compelling way.

Other highlights of the album include "Nah Mean" and "As We Enter." I defy you to listen to "As We Enter" and not move your body. It's an awesome song. That said, aside from "My Generation," every song on this record is good. It's worth it to buy the whole album.

More great news is that Nas and Damian Marley are touring together all summer. All dates are listed here.

For the Colorado folks, they're playing at Belly Up in Aspen on August 13th, and they're part of the Mile High Music Festival line-up on August 14. I can't wait!

I am also (now not-so-secretly) hoping K'Naan will make a surprise appearance at the Mile High Music Festival. He was supposed to be at the Rock the Bells Festival last year when we went to Red Rocks, and he backed out at the last minute to tour with Jason Mraz. Seriously. We were pretty devastated, and we've been holding a bit of a grudge against K'Naan ever since. (Inexplicably--aside from not liking his music that much--we've also been pretty mad at Jason Mraz.) But we're over it now, and I'd really, really, really (is anyone listening?) like to see K'Naan perform with Marley and Nas. And K'Naan should also come to Denver for a show of his own (could you be listening, K'Naan? You could sell out the Fillmore, no problem!).

Concert Review: John Butler Trio at Red Rocks

2010-06-05T13:48:00.008-06:00

(A second version of this review is posted at elephant journal.)

The start of Red Rocks concert season is momentous on its own, but yesterday's beautiful Colorado weather brought my general sense of happy anticipation to a level of giddiness I usually reserve for Michael Franti concerts. Happily, John Butler Trio exceeded my hopes and expectations in every way possible, playing one of the best concerts I've ever attended.

State Radio, one of my other favorite bands, opened the show, but I had (for some unknown reason) expected them to play second.  We got a later start than planned, and Friday night traffic up to the mountains was pretty bad, so we missed most of their set.  (My sister was not happy with me about that.) Medeski, Martin, and Wood played second, but I'm not a big fan of theirs. (I know I just lost some readers - I'm sorry. I have tons of respect for them, but I can't really get into their music.)

I saw John Butler Trio (JBT) at Red Rocks during the summer of 2008 when they opened for G. Love and Special Sauce.  My sister and I left that show early because G. Love wasn't what we'd expected (I'd seen him 10+ years earlier and loved him then), but JBT blew us away. We've been hoping to see them live again since that show, but they sold out the Fox Theatre earlier this year before we could buy tickets.

LAST NIGHT'S SHOW
John Butler Trio is from Australia, and they've got a huge following there, but John shared with the audience last night that this Red Rocks show was the "biggest gig [they've] ever headlined." They seemed honored by this, and they closed out the show by having a photo taken of the three of them standing in front of the audience.

The current trio consists of John Butler, Byron Luiters, and Nicky Bomba. Last night, Butler played the guitar, banjo, lap steel guitar, and, briefly during the final encore performance, drums.  Luiters played the bass, upright bass, didgeridoo, and, with Butler at the end, drums. He played the upright bass and didgeridoo simultaneously on more than one song.  Bomba is the percussionist, and he played a variety of percussion instruments throughout the show. John Butler Trio has had various members over the years (aside from Butler himself, of course), but Bomba and Luiters worked with Butler on the most recent album, April Uprising. It was clearly a worthwhile collaboration.

John Butler's music has a political bent, and one issue he focuses on is indigenous peoples and their mistreatment by governments. After Medeski, Martin, and Wood's set last night, John Butler Trio invited a group of Native American drummers, singers, and dancers to come on stage and perform a variety of traditional dances. The dancers then came back out and danced in the background during JBT's first song. It was all unexpected and very cool.

All three of the JBT musicians are extraordinarily talented, but it's obvious they also work very hard.  They're clearly having a great time on stage, but their work ethic, drive, and passion emanates from them when they play. I think John Butler is the most skilled guitarist I've personally ever watched, and I could watch him play for hours and hours and hours.  JBT played from about 10pm until almost 12:30am last night, and I didn't want the show to end.

Concert highlights included what must have been at least a ten-minute guitar solo by Butler, which he introduced as a prayer. I think it was a similar solo that knocked me over when I saw him in 2008. A part of it, titled "Ocean," is viewable on youtube.com, but he's added to it over the years, including a percussion element that takes it to yet another level.

Luiters and Bomba also played lengthy, incredible solos, and Butler performed a beautiful duet of the song "Losing You" with his wife and fellow musician, Daniella Caruana (also known as Mama Kin). A version of their duet is viewable here.

THE REST OF THE STORY
My sister told me last night that, if she could see John Butler Trio, State Radio, and Michael Franti play all in one day, she could die happy afterward.  Add Mos Def to that list, and it would probably be accurate for me too.

It's difficult to write about music. I deeply believe in the power of language, but music has a power unlike anything else.

Last night I stood in the bleachers at Red Rocks next to my little sister. It was a warm and breezy Colorado night, and, as always, the lights of the city were visible behind the stage. One airplane after another traveled across the sky, and JBT's logo lit up the rocks on either side of us.  The amphitheatre was filled with moving people who knew the words to almost every song.

The world is far from perfect. We all know that, and I think we all knew that last night.  I don't think forgetting it is the point, really. Sometimes you know how lucky you are, and you feel how connected you are, and you take those scattered moments and melt into them. For a few seconds, maybe a little longer, you are there. You are present, in your body, a part of the larger world, and you're not thinking about anything else.  You could describe these moments as fleeting, but that would somehow discount them. They aren't just passing by. Though brief, they've got staying power.

It's yoga by music, really, and you can carry those moments around with you afterward.  I think art is an ingredient in both resilience and inspiration - it can liven the everyday and bolster the hard times. And John Butler Trio makes great art.  They expand the world a little, and I'm grateful.

Last night's Red Rocks show is currently available via livestream on JBT's website.

Yoga and Wrists

2010-05-23T22:23:00.003-06:00

Please understand that, as with anything on this blog, the below is just my personal opinion and what I believe other instructors to have taught me. I am not a doctor; please see a doctor if you have carpal tunnel syndrome or other wrist issues and need assistance or medical advice.

As many of you know, I have carpal tunnel syndrome. After years spent waiting tables and carrying heavy trays, I attended law school at night while working full-time during the day. This meant I was typing for much of the work day and then nonstop for hours each night as I took notes in class. Then I'd type case briefings, notes, and assignments on the weekends, though I did also take a yoga class most every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday--my yoga practice kept me sane during those four years!

By the second year of law school, I was dealing with serious wrist pain and numbness, and I finally went to the doctor. He recommended I wear wrist splints whenever typing and also when sleeping. I'm embarrassed to admit it took me months to succumb to wearing the wrist splints during class--they're not attractive, and I receive endless questions about them when they're on--but they truly are a blessing. I can't complain one bit about carpal tunnel syndrome when I've got such an easy, inexpensive, non-intrusive remedy. If I wear these, I have almost no wrist pain or numbness on an average day. I just have to be careful not to type for too long, and I've accepted that I'll never be the most sought-after jar opener in my family. I also wear them when I lift heavy things, move furniture, etc.

IMAK Computer Glove

I have a pair of wrist splints (also called "computer gloves") at work, at home, and in my yoga bag for when I'm checking students into class. The computer check-in process gives me an additional opportunity to connect with students; they often ask me why I'm wearing wrist supports, which can result in helpful conversations about their own injuries.

I've been practicing yoga a little over ten years now, and I've had carpal tunnel syndrome for at least the last four of those years. Throughout that time, I've been paying close attention to all of my instructors' hand placement and especially to their cues regarding hand placement and wrist health. For the most part, yoga has helped my wrists, but I do have to modify sometimes and avoid some poses (crow especially).

Over the years, teachers have told me to press into the knuckles of my fingers and thumb; to grip the mat, which results in many of my knuckles coming off the mat; to press into my fingertips; and to press through the "L" of each hand, meaning press through the index finger and thumb. I've tried each of these, and the only thing that's really worked for me is relaxing through my hands and allowing the knuckles of the index fingers to come off the mat. My understanding is that this is technically incorrect, but it's worked pretty well for me for years now.

I'm not saying any of the cues mentioned above are bad cues--it's just that they haven't worked for me. I've had quite a few instructors teach me new techniques to deal with my wrist issues, but I think they were drawing on knowledge and experience related to wrist injuries, not carpal tunnel syndrome.

But things may have changed for the better. Last weekend I attended two workshops with Nicki Doane, and she spent some time talking about hands and wrists. After talking with her, I finally understand the cue to press into the "L" shape of the hands. She described it in much more detail, and she calls it pressing into the "triad" of the hand. Nicki told us to press into the three places I've marked below.

All of these years, I've been misunderstanding this cue and pressing into #1 and #2 but not #3. It never helped my wrists, so I gave up on that cue, but I've been trying to press into this triad over the past week, and so far it seems to be helping. The jury is still out, as, in my experience, one week isn't long enough to really know if something will work for my wrists, but I am cautiously optimistic!

Another very helpful thing Nicki shared is that we teachers need to be specific when we cue to spread the fingers wide. While we do want students to spread their fingers out, we do not want them to spread their thumb wide. The carpal tunnel narrows when the thumb is spread wide like it is in the next photo.

Instead, the thumb should be kept where it naturally lands, as in the below photo.

Nicki explained that, if hand placement is correct, downward-facing dog can actually help people with carpal tunnel syndrome. But, as you can see from the above, if hand placement is incorrect, downward-facing dog can worsen the condition.

I've read that carpal tunnel syndrome is a contraindication for down dog as well as chaturanga and some other poses, but I've always chosen to listen to my body and continue doing those poses. For me, they seemed to actually help my carpal tunnel syndrome, at least so long as I kept my hands placed the way that felt right for me personally. Now I understand better why that hand placement has worked for me all these years. It was only after I did yoga teacher training and started questioning my hand placement that I began to have problems.

There are also lots of great wrist exercises that can help. The June issue of Body+Soul Magazine explains a couple of quick ones (page 44), and Emma over at The Joy of Yoga shared a terrific wrist sequence earlier this month; click here to check it out!

Does anyone else have any recommendations or other thoughts to share regarding yoga and wrists/hand placement? What works best for you?

Yoga Playlist, Part II (A Marley Family Tribute)

2010-05-19T21:54:00.010-06:00

Spring weather always makes me want to listen to lots and lots of Bob Marley, so this year I created the following yoga playlist inspired by Bob and his kids. Also, at this moment I am downloading the collaborative album by Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley & Nas that was released yesterday. It's called Distant Relatives, and I've been waiting impatiently for its release since I saw them at Red Rocks last year. I'll post a review in the next few days or so.

Update: You can listen to most of the below songs on Spotify by clicking here.

The Super Fabulous Marley Family Yoga Playlist:

"Gayatri Mantra" by Deva Premal
"No Woman, No Cry" by the Fugees
"Time of Your Song" by Matisyahu
"Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley
"The Traffic Jam" by Stephen Marley featuring Damian Marley (great for core work)
"See It No Other Way" by Slightly Stoopid
"Time Will Tell" by Bob Marley & The Wailers
"Turn Out the Light" by The New Amsterdams (for the slower part of the practice)
"More Than Life" by Whitley (again, slower)
"Road to Zion" by Damian Marley & Nas (you have to be careful with this one; some of Nas' lyrics might rub people the wrong way - I turn the volume down during that part)
"Hey Baby" by Stephen Marley featuring Mos Def (so far this is the only success I've had incorporating Mos Def into my yoga classes)
"Bottles & Bones (Shade and Sympathy)" by Califone
"No Woman, No Cry" by Xavier Rudd
"Hey World (Don't Give Up Version)" by Michael Franti & Spearhead

photo source

Gratitude and Yoga in the Springtime: A List of Nine

2010-05-19T00:57:00.003-06:00

Nine things that made me happy and thankful today:

1. The smell of an unexpected rain as I left the yoga studio.

2. Watching my toes and feet kick ass in humble warrior pose. Have you ever paid close attention to your feet in this pose? The feet amaze me constantly, and it was so cool to watch my toes working hard to balance my entire body during this pose. I try hard not to take my body for granted, and tonight I paid special attention to my heartily appreciated feet.

3. Carrying less and leaving lighter. I have developed an odd and complicated system to change out of my work clothes and into my yoga clothes at the studio in the evenings. I carry an extra lulu tote folded up in my yoga bag, and then I put my dry-clean only clothes in there as carefully as I can, etc., etc. -- you get the idea. By the time I leave the studio in the winter, I am carrying approximately 49 different bags, my mat, and my purse. It's pretty ridiculous. In the springtime, however, everything is lighter. There's no heavy dress coat to stow away and no heavy apres yoga coat to put on. Tonight I threw my wallet in my yoga bag and carried just one bag and my mat.

4. Leaving the yoga studio with less lower-back pain, less elbow pain, and less wrist pain than when I went in. Better yet, of course, would be to get rid of this stuff altogether, which is a summer yoga goal. My carpal tunnel syndrome seems to spread to my elbows when I use my iPhone, so I'm banishing it from my sight as best I can. The lower-back pain seems to stem from when I teach yoga, so I'm obviously doing something wrong when I assist. Any advice is much appreciated, and, until I get a handle on it, I'm backing off the assisting a bit (reluctantly, but I don't want to risk long-term problems).

5. Leaving the yoga studio while it's still light outside. When the sun sets later, all of that back-bending energy easily gets used before bedtime. I love it!

6. The all-encompassing sense of renewal and possibility that arrives with the springtime.

7. A needy cat during my downward-facing dog. Okay, so sometimes I'm not that happy when Darcy visits during a pose, but tonight she was pretty cute.

8. The super fabulous Marley family yoga playlist I've created to celebrate the warmer weather. I'll share playlist details with you later this week!

9. Making a renewed commitment to my personal yoga practice. I've needed to do this for awhile. Last summer I began my yoga teacher training, an experience that changed my practice and my life in very positive ways. After the 200-hour teacher training, I had a short break and then began a second teacher training program. Soon afterward, I started teaching, and somewhere along the line my own practice was relegated to a lower spot on the priority list. I haven't felt like myself lately, and I think it's time to focus again on my own practice. There are no words to express how excited I am about this.

30 Seconds to Mars: The So-Called Concert (A Rant)

2010-05-08T11:59:00.002-06:00

First can I just say that 30 Seconds to Mars makes good music? I feel the need to stress this, probably because I'm a little embarrassed I stayed for almost their whole show last night.

Songs like "The Kill" and "From Yesterday" have helped me complete many runs over the past few years, and "This is War" and "Kings and Queens" are pretty good too. I had downloaded a few 30 Seconds to Mars songs before I learned Jared Leto was the lead singer. When my sister and I decided to buy tickets to see the band at Fillmore Auditorium here in Denver, we did so mainly because we like their music. The fact we'd get to see Jordan Catalano on stage was just a big perk.

(Quick aside: If you're of a certain age (say, 34), you're female, and you grew up in the U.S., you likely remember the TV show My So-Called Life. Claire Danes played Angela Chase, an angsty high school girl who had a huge crush on Jordan Catalano, played by Jared Leto, now the lead singer of 30 Seconds to Mars. Jordan Catalano was gorgeous, unattainable, and brooding. He didn't talk much, but it was obvious he was brilliant under all of that silence.)

Last night's concert may have been the worst I've ever attended. My sister contends that Tech N9ne at last year's Rock the Bells festival was worse, but we got to see Damian Marley and Nas at the end of that festival, so I don't think it counts. Last night all we saw was a bad opening act followed by a really bad headliner band. And it kind-of pisses me off.

I think there was a first opening act that we missed, but I'm not feeling a lot of loss at this point. (We were enjoying the weirdest, most delicious beignets and bread pudding ever at Beatrice and Woodsley.) We arrived just before the second opening act started playing. When the band got on stage and began its first song, a guy standing behind me told his friend, "Holy f**k, that guy's got a tambourine! I told you we shouldn't have come so early."  And it was all downhill from there.

What can I say that is positive about this show? Jared Leto has a great voice. I will give him that. That's why we went, after all. But we hardly got to hear it - at least not singing. This concert was the Jared Leto (Jordan Catalano?) Ego Show, and I'm still amazed at just how much it sucked.

Why did it suck, you ask? Let me count the ways.

1) When the curtains parted, we realized that Jared Leto was not himself. See that very nice photo at the top of this post? Well, now imagine the middle guy with dyed-blond hair styled into a not-small mohawk with the tips painted pink. I've got nothing against mohawks, but seriously? Oh, and he was wearing a long white trenchcoat, which my sister kind-of liked. For herself, I mean - I think she would wear it. He should not have. All I could think of was Boy George. Then, when the trenchcoat came off, he was wearing some kind of studded black vest thing. It made no sense at all.

2) I believe wholeheartedly in the power and the usefulness of the f-word. This doesn't make my mom happy, but there it is. I think it serves a worthy purpose, and I have a whole blog post planned about just what an essential part of our language it is (although I probably couldn't say it better than RZA did when he was interviewed by Shambahla Sun).  But I have no patience with gratuitous anything, let alone gratuitous use of the f-word. Jared Leto, on the other hand, has what appears to be a very limited vocabulary consisting primarily of that word. Usually I like it when a musician talks between songs - that's a benefit of seeing someone live.  Last night, I just wanted him to shut up. I did not want to put my eff-ing hands together; I did not want to eff-ing crowd-surf; I did not want to eff-ing be in his eff-ing music video; I did not want to take three eff-ing steps forward towards the eff-ing stage; and I did not want to eff-ing sing or eff-ing dance. In fact, by the end of the night, I eff-ing hated him.  It's like he has taken on this rockstar persona - or at least what he thinks is a rockstar persona. (My sister thinks maybe it's due to his acting background.)

3) The band stopped between each song, brought the lights down on stage, and waited for the audience to scream before they started the next song.  After each song, Leto thanked us very much. It was like every song was an encore, except they only played eight songs or so the entire night!  Ugh. It made me crazy. This show was all filler.

4) After the first couple of songs, the lights went down, Leto disappeared, and we waited and waited before we realized he was walking by us in the back of the auditorium (with a gaggle of screaming girls following him). He then stopped to talk to the sound guy for too long before climbing up on something in the middle of the floor to take some eff-ing song requests from us eff-ing mother-f**kers. Why did all this happen?  No idea.

5) He constantly encouraged crowd-surfing and the creation of mosh pits and also begged people to put other people on their shoulders. He took tons of time to help orchestrate such things while the rest of us stood around wondering if 30 Seconds to Mars might ever play some music. He also took a huge chunk of time between songs to coach the crowd on how to repeat the word "no" over and over with fists pumping in the air so they could film this spectacle for a music video. It was ridiculous.

6) Leto actually said the following sentence (or something very much like it): "If someone next to you doesn't have their eff-ing hands in the air, hawk a loogie and spit on them." He also called the audience "horndogs" and suggested a giant orgy at one point. (I am saddened to have these last few sentences on my blog page, but I'll take one for the team. This post is, after all, a public service.)

7) In the middle of a song, he lifted his shirt up so the audience could view his torso and nipples.

8) Though we (naively) kept hoping, we never really heard a good song. Leto invited the audience to sing most of the lyrics to all of the songs.  His microphone was pointed at the audience almost the whole night (except when he was cursing at us, of course).

It was truly horrible, all of it. We kept moving backward towards the doors and ultimately ended up standing in a group with other people who appeared to hate the show as much as we did.  I guess we all kept expecting something to change, which is our own fault.  But the night did improve a bit when, during the last song, a guy near us yelled "You suck" at the stage. A series of people thanked him for expressing what we were all thinking, and, despite the fact he was wearing a t-shirt that said "MILF Whisperer" on it, I felt a real connection to him.

This was a sold out show, according to Leto's Twitter account, which I read this morning for the first and last time. My sis and I are in the very back of this crowd rolling our eyes and discussing whether we should stick it out or leave.

(photo source; above photo source)

Thoughts on Paul Hawken's Blessed Unrest

2010-05-05T23:44:00.146-06:00

Another reason I like this funny medium called a blog: I can write book reviews on books that have sat on my nightstand so long even the paperback version has been out since 2008.

I purchased Paul Hawken's Blessed Unrest (in its gorgeous hardcover) when it was first published in 2007, and I was really excited to read it. I read the first two sections right away, and then I moved on to something else, relegating this book to my "not right now" pile.

(Quick aside: I buy too many books, and I know buying books is not a very eco-friendly habit, but I love them.  I don't know what else to say. I love them, and I buy them, and I understand if you think that's weak and hypocritical.)

I'm not sure why I didn't get drawn into this book initially. Immediately upon reading two of the quotes Hawken includes early in the book, I typed them up and hung them over my desk.  I love the Barry Lopez quote so much it's in my blog header, and the other is a beautiful quote from Martha Graham, which I'll include at the bottom of this post. I find both quotes infinitely inspiring and grounding at the same time. They make me feel sane.

But, for whatever reason, I didn't pick Blessed Unrest up again until Earth Day 2010. That was purely coincidence, but I did note the date that evening when I finally set the book down and went to sleep. This second time around, I immediately became absorbed in the book and began carrying it everywhere, a pencil tucked inside. The descriptions of Blessed Unrest that I've read do not adequately describe it. The book's subtitle is, "How the Largest Movement in the World Came into Being and Why No One Saw It Coming," but I don't think this conveys the breadth of the book either.

I didn't study much in high school. I did just enough to get good grades, and retaining the information I learned was never a high priority for me -- or a priority at all, really. I also have a bad memory, so retaining information can be difficult even when I try. Now I'm an adult who cares A LOT about learning and retaining information, and I felt like this book served as a primer for me on many subjects. I deepened my knowledge in some areas, and I learned lots of things for what I think is the first time.

Following are just some of the subjects/issues addressed in this book:

- how the national parks were created in the U.S.
- the "asymmetry of corporate and civil rights"; this is a theme throughout the book, and Hawken does a better job discussing this complicated subject than anyone else I've read
- Rachel Carson's Silent Spring and its impact
- the 1984 Bhopal disaster and its ongoing injustices (I wrote "unf***ingbelievable" in the margin next to this information, if that provides any indication how deplorable the situation is)
- the inescapable and essential connection between environmentalism and social justice
- Hurricane Katrina
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
- Henry David Thoreau and, especially, his essay, Civil Disobedience (Special note: Hawken also mentions that Thoreau was influenced by the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads)
- Gandhi and the satyagraha movement, including how he was influenced by Thoreau
- Rosa Parks and the civil rights training she received
- Martin Luther King, Jr. and some of his influences, which included Gandhi and Thoreau
- Darwin, Christopher Columbus, and Western bias
- indigenous people, including the horrors they've endured historically as well as the current state of the approximately five thousand indigenous cultures in existence today
- an objective, nuanced, clear critique of globalization as it is being achieved today
- the protests at the 1999 WTO conference in Seattle and the larger, ongoing "global citizens movement"
- a discussion about the World Bank and its role and consequences
- a quite thorough explanation of how an immune system works and how this movement behaves as an immune system for the planet
- the slow food movement
- an explanation of how life began
- descriptions of the many types of organizations working on environmental and human rights issues
- an appendix explaining and summarizing the database of organizations that Hawken has helped create to track this huge, constantly changing movement

I came away from the book with a list of words to learn (lots of scientific terms) as well as some additional reading and film recommendations. But most of all I gained a more comprehensive, big-picture understanding of the global environmental/human rights movement and a deeper appreciation for what we're really up against. Hawken keeps his tone pretty hopeful, but his book constantly reminds the reader that this is a seriously uphill battle we're undertaking.

I'd like to close by sharing a couple of things that Hawken highlights toward the end of the book. First, he mentions something called the Millenium Ecosystem Assessment report, which was released in March 2005. This $24 million scientific study was "the largest such scientific study ever undertaken of the planet's carrying capacity," and the study found that the "earth is wearing out and will soon become exhausted, incapable of supporting life as we know it.... We are on the brink of disaster." This assessment was talking about ecosystems, which can reach triggering thresholds (what Hawken calls "ecological heart attacks") and then suddenly die.

Secondly, Hawken addresses climate change, a subject I thought I was fairly knowledgeable about. But I learned something new (or perhaps re-learned something I'd forgotten? could one forget this?), and it scares the hell out of me. Hawken explains:

The greatest warming today is occurring at the poles...and rising temperatures there are releasing another gas, methane, from the permafrost, where it has been locked up for millions of years. Methane is twenty-four times more powerful than carbon dioxide as a greenhouse gas. A rapid rise in its release into the atmosphere would create a dramatic increase in warming, a positive feedback loop that would accelerate additional methane release. If such a runaway event were to take place, it could occur within forty years or less, and would transform the planet into a biological desert.

We have got to change the way we live right now, in a big way. Governments have to come together, and the changes that need made will be excruciatingly difficult. Thank God there are all these organizations and so many individuals taking these issues seriously, but how will this group get big enough, strong enough, and coherent enough to change the path we're on? I don't know. I write this as the BP oil spill continues unabated in the Gulf of Mexico. I also write this from my comfortable house surrounded by appliances that use electricity generated by coal-fired power plants. I've lived a privileged life, and much of the world is only trying to catch up to what is viewed by most as progress. I state the obvious when I say these are complicated issues without easy answers, but I'm not sure what else to say. I'm sure no one likes a depressing blog post, so I'll leave you with some hope and inspiration.

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique.... You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.... [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the other.   --Martha Graham

Finally, since we're talking about Thoreau (and lest you think I have no sense of humor), I want to share a quote my friend Ben sent me. I think this one may need posted above my desk as well.

If I am bitten by one more damned mosquito, I am going to burn down the whole forest. And another thing, it's cold out here. And lonely. Very lonely. My best friend is a piece of tree bark that looks like Zachary Taylor's head. Thank God for moonshine. And guns! Pow! Pow! Blam! Pow! Gimme a life of loud desperation.   --Henry David Thoreau, from pages written in his hand and found nailed to a rafter in his cabin

Words of Inspiration

2010-04-27T23:52:00.003-06:00

Several quotes consistently inspire me day in and day out, and some quotes have served as inspiration for many years. Also, looking back at quotes I've written down over the years offers a window into what my perspective was at any given time. I usually notice how much I've changed while realizing at the same time that, fundamentally, my interests and my values have been pretty consistent throughout my life.

For example, on the first day of yoga teacher training, our instructor asked whether any of us had ever heard of Indra Devi. I shook my head "no" along with nearly every other person in the room, and the instructor went on to explain that Indra Devi was the first woman student of Krishnamacharya. A few weeks after that teacher training class, I found an old notebook from college, and one of the quotes I'd written inside was by Indra Devi. I'd even written beneath the quote: "Indra Devi, The First Lady of Yoga." I have no idea where I got this quote--I wasn't even practicing yoga yet--but it obviously spoke to me somehow. It said:

You give love and light to everybody - those who love you, those who harm you, those whom you know, those whom you don't know. It makes no difference. You just give light and love.

Other quotes have played more prominent roles in my life for many years. My favorite quote is probably Mahatma Gandhi's:

We must be the change we wish to see in the world.

There's a reason this quote is blanketed across t-shirts, coffee mugs, and wall-hangings. It's beautiful; it's motivational; and it elicits concrete action. I love it.

Three of my other favorites are visible on this blog's home page. The Barry Lopez quote I've chosen for my blog banner speaks to me every time I read it.

There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.

From a spiritual standpoint, what Lopez says really resonates with me. Making my life "a worthy expression of leaning into the light" sounds like a fulfilling and noble endeavor. It's also something I can strive for on a daily basis.

I try to think about the following quote by the Dalai Lama whenever I get frustrated or angry with someone. Sometimes I'm surprised by how effective it is!

Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

And a quote I revisit almost daily is from a woman named Carrie Ten Bloom. She said:

Worry does not empty tomorrow of sorrow - it empties today of strength.

If I let myself, I could make anxiety an art form. I've learned I must actively refuse to do so. This quote appeared in my life on a day I really needed it, and I continue to come back to it whenever I need a reminder that worrying about the unknown and the uncontrollable is a complete waste of time.

Anytime I'm debating whether to go to a yoga class or head to the gym (versus sit on the couch), I think about a terrific quote a reader submitted to Runner's World magazine a year or two ago:

There will come a day when you can no longer do this. Today is not that day.

I've found no other motivational technique more powerful than those two sentences. They get me up and out the door (or onto my mat at home) almost every single time.

There are also a few quotes that consistently motivate me to take risks, step outside my comfort zone, and invite change into my life. Two of my favorites include:

If you're not scared, you're not pushing hard enough. You're taking the safe road.

Raphael Friedan, who I believe is Betty Friedan's nephew

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

Anais Nin

And lululemon's manifesto has been especially motivating. I know lululemon is controversial for many, but I love their manifesto and their pants (which have lasted me going on five years now and still work great). Anyway, the parts of the manifesto that inspire me most are:

Stress is related to 99% of all illnesses.

Sweat once a day.

(I have a lulu water bottle that says this, and it really does motivate me to get to yoga.)

Do one thing a day that scares you.

Do it now, Do it now, Do it now!

"Do one thing a day that scares you" has given me the push I needed to do lots of things that scared me. I trained for a triathlon two years ago, and both the prep and the race were downright filled with things that scared me. I hadn't ridden a bike in 15 years when I registered for the race, and just picking out a bike was scary and uncomfortable. I also learned (quickly!) that I don't like putting my face underwater. This wasn't a problem as a child, but apparently the adult me is quite afraid. Worse yet, it turned out I was especially terrified of open-water swimming, which presented quite a challenge since I had to swim a half-mile through open water to complete the race. lululemon's words helped get me through months of swim training and then through the actual race.

"Do one thing a day that scares you" also helped give me the courage to start this blog and to teach yoga. I still have an email my sister sent me about six months ago. I had written to her and frantically said, "I'm going to start teaching yoga next week and I'm freaking out!" My sister wrote back, "Do one thing a day that scares you. You've got this." Hurrah for fabulous sisters, and hurrah for inspirational words!

Lastly, there are a few quotes that provide perspective whenever mine is drifting away. I try to come back to these often.

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.

Abraham Lincoln

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A bird will fall frozen dead from a bow without ever having felt sorry for itself.

DH Lawrence (thanks, Sam!)

Celebrate your existence!

William Blake

Yoga Ethics: It's Not about the Teacher

2010-04-24T23:32:00.007-06:00

As you may remember, on a recent visit to San Francisco I attended one of Darren Main's classes at Yoga Tree studio. Afterward, I spoke with Darren a bit about his teaching, and I shared that I was a beginner teacher. We talked a little about that, and I told him my teaching philosophy, which is basically that I need to do a really good job when I'm teaching so my students can forget about me as much as possible and focus on their own practice. Teaching yoga is about me to the extent I can control how present I am, how prepared I am, and how knowledgeable I am, but that's about it. My job as an instructor is to get out of the way so the yoga can do its thing. This, of course, means letting go of my ego as much as possible.

That can be difficult. I want my students to feel welcome and safe and successful, but, if I'm honest, I also want them to like my class, my music, my personality. Most of all, I want them to come back. I would be heartbroken if a brand new student attended my class and then never wanted to try yoga again. If that happened, no question about it, my ego would place 100% of the blame on my teaching. Similarly, it's hard to keep the ego at bay when a student pays me a compliment. As a new teacher, I'm craving any validation I can get!  The slightest kindness can keep me going for hours after I've left the studio.

At least theoretically, these sorts of ego problems are solved through my teaching philosophy. The students are not there to see me; they've come for some quality time on their mats. When they leave the studio happy, it's not because of me; it's because they just practiced yoga. I'm not saying a good teacher doesn't contribute to a good experience, but I do think it's important to remember I'm just a small component of my students' practice.

I shared the gist of this with Darren (although I wasn't nearly as long-winded, I assure you!), and he told me he teaches an ethics class for a yoga teacher training program. In that ethics class, he uses the analogy of Pavlov's dog to make a similar point.

In many instances, the instructor is a constant for his/her students as they undergo transformation through their yoga practice. Darren explained that the instructor is in the room when this amazing change and growth happens, and the students can easily - and erroneously - credit the instructor for initiating all of this transformation.  Really, though, it's the yoga that's making the difference, not the teacher. The teacher is the bell in the Pavlov's dog analogy; the yoga is the dog food.  The yoga is what's transformative.

I haven't been teaching long enough to know the best way to help my students understand this distinction (and, trust me, at this time there is zero danger my students will confuse my teaching with the dog food).  When I teach, I try to remind my students that I'm just a guide and their practice is their own, but I'd love to hear what the more seasoned yoga teachers have to say about this. Does anyone have any suggestions or stories to share from dealing with issues like this one?

*************

Update: If you haven't already read this article in the New York Times, I think it's worth the time. I found the comments even more interesting than the article itself - there's enough there to keep us talking for days.

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Seven Things I Want to Tell My Beginner Yoga Students

2010-04-21T23:39:00.019-06:00

1) It gets easier. Fast. Soon - sooner than you think - you will know the pose names (even, in some cases, the Sanskrit names), and you won't have to think so hard to get yourself into each pose. The word "flow" will actually make some sense to you, and your transitions from pose to pose will feel smoother and more natural. You will even discover that you can match your breath to your movement. You will begin to reap the benefits of your practice, and this will bring more positivity, strength, and peace to your life.

2) It really is all about the breath. This took me years to figure out, and I still struggle with it every single time I practice. This is why I remind you to find your breath about seven thousand times in one hour. Because I need someone to remind me too. The breath makes all the difference. The breath makes it yoga. It balances you, calms your mind, focuses your attention, and benefits you physically in myriad ways. Do your best to use your breath. If you still don't "get" how to do Ujjayi breathing, that's okay. Keep trying; it will come with time and practice.

3) You will never regret practicing. You may struggle to make it to your mat, and you may regret not practicing, but I'm willing to bet you will never leave your mat wishing you hadn't spent that time there.

4) You will eventually stop comparing yourself to others during class. This is hard, I know. I've done it too, and I'll do it again. But, for the most part, there will come a time when you'll forget to look around the room. One day you will come to a group class and leave and realize you have no idea whether the person next to you got into Headstand or spent the entire class in Child's pose. I am not making this up.

5a) Down dog really does become a resting posture. I know that may be hard to believe now, but this is something else that will happen sooner than you expect. There will come a time when you've had a rotten day and the only thing you'll want to do is place your palms on the floor and walk your feet back until you feel that space, that freedom, that this pose brings.

5b) I really, honestly, truly don't think it matters if your heels ever in a million years touch the floor in Down dog.

6) When I say the energy in the room is incredible or that your pose looks beautiful, I am not bullshitting you. And I am not judging your pose based on what the yoga how-to manual says. I am looking at you and seeing your effort, and I think you're awesome.

7) I want to shake your hand when I see you modify a pose. I know how hard it can be to modify when no one else in the room is modifying, not to mention what your own mind says to you when you take a pose down a notch. Serious kudos to you for knowing your body and taking control of your practice. You are a quite advanced yoga student, whether you know it or not.

My Reintroduction to Half Pigeon Pose

2010-04-18T18:05:00.013-06:00

Flowers at the Samovar Tea Lounge

When I started practicing yoga in my early twenties, I neither liked nor disliked Half Pigeon pose (Eka Pada Rajakapotasana). Time has passed, and I'm not sure when things changed exactly, but I do know I've hated Half Pigeon for at least the last four or five years. I know the word "hate" is not a great complement to a yoga practice, but I really have hated this pose. My knees used to hurt like crazy whenever I came into it, and I've never felt like my hips were squared properly. For some reason, my body awareness goes right out the window when it's time for Half Pigeon. And, on top of it all, even the Sanskrit name for this pose is harder for me to remember than any of the others. It's like a conspiracy!

My sister loves Half Pigeon. She savors it. I can't relate to that at all, but I know many people feel the same way she does. When I teach it, I watch at least half of my students sink right in (these are usually all women, by the way). They move their chests easily towards the floor, touching forehead to ground, and they appear as if they could hold the pose forever.

Many times I would move into Double Pigeon when cued to move into Half Pigeon, telling myself that Double Pigeon was better for my knees. And perhaps it was. It's odd, though, that I preferred Double Pigeon, as it's considered a more difficult pose. My body apparently feels otherwise.

When I started teaching yoga, I felt like I should walk the talk, so to speak, so I began focusing on my Half Pigeon pose again. I realized that, if I concentrated on flexing my front foot A LOT, I could avoid the knee pain, and I managed to hold myself in the pose during group classes. I'd even spend a short amount of time in the pose when I practiced at home. I was making some progress.

You can buy this ornament and others like it at yogaG.org.

Baron Baptiste explains how to do Half Pigeon pose in his book, Journey into Power, and then says: "This should feel so deep...so good...so freeing! If you feel fidgety or uncomfortable, it's just anxiety coming up. But if you can recognize it as such and breathe through it, the discomfort will dissolve like snow in the summer sun. Tune in, breathe, relax. Break up tension, break with the old and break through to the new!"

A week ago, I would have shrugged my shoulders at all of this (or even rolled my eyes) and reminded myself that this pose just doesn't really work for my body. But something changed for me yesterday.

I've had a rough few weeks, and this past week everything felt like it was really getting to be too much. I felt exhausted mentally and physically. I rarely feel this way, which compounded things - I didn't know how to handle these emotions, and I knew I was losing perspective. Though I most often attend group yoga classes, I do practice alone at home once or twice each week. Yesterday I cancelled my plans to practice at the studio and instead decided to practice at home. I thought I made this change because I was too tired to say hello to the instructor (I'm not kidding), but I think now that maybe, somehow, I knew what I really needed.

One of my favorite blogs to read is Suburban Yogini, and she said something in a post the other day that really resonated with me: "Practicing yoga doesn’t change a person overnight. All the difficulties of everyday life are still there as soon as you get off your mat and the only thing we can control is our reaction to these difficulties." This is so true. But what yoga can do is help us to control our reactions. It relieves stress, brings us into the present moment, and, for me, reintroduces me to the many blessings in my life, which of course helps with the whole perspective problem.

Yesterday, when I practiced at home, I made the decision to go ahead and do Half Pigeon pose. By that part of my practice (about 3/4 through), my head had cleared a bit, but I still entered the pose grudgingly. I did a short set on each side and then came back to down dog, where I thought a bit more about Half Pigeon. It's a hip-opener, and we store lots of stuff in our hips, including emotional baggage, anxiety, and negativity. I decided to go back into the pose on the right side. And then, with absolute disbelief even as I did it, I set my iPhone timer for three minutes and decided to see if I could stay in Half Pigeon (Half Pigeon, of all poses!) for that long. I honestly wasn't sure I would manage it.

But I did. And then I did the same thing on the other side. It wasn't easy to stay in the pose, but my body felt clear and light and free when I came out. I had to be somewhere shortly afterward, or I probably would have practiced longer than I'd planned. I didn't want to get off the mat.

Baron Baptiste also says the following about Half Pigeon: "Slam on your mental brakes and expand into full acceptance of the spiritual moment--everything you are feeling and what is happening. Don't try to change anything. Just breathe, witness, and let go. Allow this moment to be exactly as it is, and watch with a quiet mind as each new moment unfolds. Allow yourself to be exactly as you are, so that you may break through your resistance."

Not bad advice, as it turns out.

Check out The Joy of Yoga Blog!

2010-04-16T23:15:00.002-06:00

I was very honored earlier this week when Emma at the lovely The Joy of Yoga blog posted one of my playlists during her yoga playlist week. It was my first-ever blog guest post! If you haven't checked out The Joy of Yoga blog yet, I encourage you to do so. It's one of my favorites.

Thoughts on Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage

2010-04-11T23:59:00.010-06:00

THE BOOK
If I'm honest with myself (and with you), I must admit I didn't want to like this book. I didn't really want to like Elizabeth Gilbert's first memoir, Eat, Pray, Love, either. I have some sort of aversion to bestsellers (I finally gave in and read Harry Potter when everyone else was on book 3). Read into this aversion what you will. I personally think it reeks of several intractable character flaws, including snobbishness and small-mindedness, both of which I’m endeavoring to make un-intractable (I know, not an actual word).

So why did I eventually read Eat, Pray, Love? Partially because travelling and yoga were prominent subjects in the book, but mostly because I remembered reading an article Gilbert wrote for Yoga Journal called “Through the Looking Glass” that had a lasting impact on me. And why did I read Committed if, for whatever reason, I was still thinking (hoping?) I wouldn’t like it? Probably because I did like Eat, Pray, Love, but mostly because Gilbert promised an exploration of marriage, an institution with which I have a love/hate relationship, and this exploration was to include a look at the historical underpinnings of modern Western marriage.

Gilbert delivered on each of these promises, and, for me, the book was both enjoyable and enduringly helpful, meaning that I will likely revisit certain sections, passages, and quotes from the book in the future. Gilbert’s writing can be a little adverb-heavy for my taste—now that I’ve said this, every adverb I use in this post will light up and screech like a police car siren—but there are many, many moments in this book where her writing is beautiful and stark and perfect. She is not just a writer; she is also an open-minded and thoughtful observer, and this is evident throughout the book. Gilbert also does her best to allow nuance wherever nuance exists; she acknowledges the various opinions surrounding subjects like marriage, motherhood, and autonomy, and I appreciated her candor. I think she is a brave writer, and that is the highest compliment.

After being told by U.S. immigration authorities that she and her fiance would have to get married in order for him to stay in the country, Gilbert panics and embarks on a journey to learn all she can about marriage. In Committed, she gracefully interweaves historical facts about marriage with her personal narrative, and, for the first half of the book or so, I liked the historical information best. I do like Gilbert (in fact, I’d likely feel more comfortable calling her “Liz” throughout this post, as inappropriate as that would be), and I was interested in the memoir part of the book, but the history was the meat of the book for awhile. That changed around page 158, which is when Gilbert begins discussing something that sociologists call the “Marriage Benefit Imbalance.”

Gilbert spent a lot of time researching marriage, and some of what she learns is pretty bloody depressing. For instance, in general, men hugely benefit from marriage, and women do not. In fact, women are very much on the losing end of the scale when it comes to marriage. I think many women could attest to this anecdotally (even while simultaneously loving their husbands and children very much), but Gilbert also provides factual information about this benefit imbalance.

For instance, Gilbert points out that married men live longer than single men, but the same is not true for married women as compared to single women. Married men “accumulate more wealth than single men,” but women “take a 7 percent pay cut, on average” when they get married. Married men have more successful careers than single men, but single women are more successful than married women. Married men are healthier than single men and report themselves as happier than single men. Conversely, married women are less healthy than single women.

Thankfully, Gilbert is also able to point out that things are improving. As more women become autonomous, the Marriage Benefit Imbalance diminishes, and certain factors play a big part in this. Statistically, an educated woman who earns her own income, marries later in life, and limits the number of children she has may benefit nearly as much from marriage as her husband if, in addition to all of those other things, she marries someone who helps out with the housework. But the research shows some level of the Marriage Benefit Imbalance even in those situations, so we’ve still got a long way to go. (Side note: I think my love/hate relationship with marriage seems pretty legitimate given all of the above facts.)

Gilbert follows these facts with a discussion about why, given all of this information, women still long for marriage. I thought this was valuable, but she really gained my admiration in the next section, which is about her mother and her mother’s choices, and the section that comes after that, which is about motherhood.

While trying to decide whether she wants to have kids, Gilbert contacts all of the women she knows and asks them about their decision to have, or not to have, children. Their answers form no pattern, and, ultimately, Gilbert realizes she has to make that decision for herself. She does so without judging any of the women she’s interviewed, and I found her approach on this subject refreshing and courageous.

Still, the next part of the book is what sealed me forever as an Elizabeth Gilbert fan. She talks at length about what she calls the “Auntie brigade,” the group of women who, throughout history and in modern times, have no children of their own but provide unparalleled support to those who do. This section—replete with a quote by Jane Austen—is must-read material. I've never read anything like it before, and I hope a major magazine will reprint it so it gets out to a wider audience.

From there, Gilbert moves on to a discussion about “marriage and autonomy." Given that the risk of losing autonomy is one of my huge beefs with marriage, I thought this discussion was also valuable. Marriage is a trade-off; you lose some freedom, on some level, when you marry. It might be worth it—you might decide it’s worth it—but there’s still a trade-off. We may as well admit that to ourselves and to each other.

Lastly, Gilbert talks about marriage as subversion. The premise here is as follows: because the state can’t reach so far into our private lives that it can go behind closed doors to control a couple’s relationship, marriage is an act of subversion. It is something beyond the government's control. Believing this is one way Gilbert makes peace with marriage, and she admits she might just be trying to convince herself of it. I get this, and I won’t criticize her for it. But I also don’t really buy it, at least not to the extreme that she does. Were the Marriage Benefit Imbalance a distant memory, maybe marriage as subversion would hold more appeal for me, but it’s not, and it doesn’t.

BEYOND THE BOOK: WHY BOTHER WITH A MEMOIR (OR A BLOG)?
I wrote short stories and poems throughout my childhood, and I kept a diary until I finished college. Until about ten years ago, I self-identified as a “writer,” and writing was just part of my life. I don’t remember questioning the validity of the profession, and I don’t remember feeling uncomfortable putting myself out there. It was just what I did.

But when writing for this blog (or even sometimes writing comments on other people’s blog posts), I often question how much I should share. I spend quite a bit of time deciding whether certain sentences, posts, or bits of information are relevant and necessary, and I work hard to delete any that come up short in this analysis. Fundamentally, though, it's worth questioning why my thoughts, feelings, and actions matter to a reader at all. What's the point?

The point, for me, is that sharing the details of one’s life can help the reader feel s/he is not alone; or help the reader gain a new perspective; or teach the reader something; or show the reader how to foster compassion for others; or help the reader realize that all humans really do have the same needs. The reader gains insight into the Other, into society, into him or herself. So I don’t believe writing is a solely selfish endeavor. The urge to write, the need to write, the personal satisfaction that comes from gazing at a completed draft, all of these are selfish. But I do try to consider carefully whether what I share has any value for my readers, whether I’m somehow, in at least some small way, contributing to a larger conversation. I envision this conversation as an ever-expanding roadmap of compassion, understanding, and community.

Gilbert’s memoirs affirm my feelings about writing and why we sometimes share such personal stories with the world at large. Sometimes (as on page 206, paragraph two), I can see myself in Gilbert—I have something in common with her or her story—and I relate to her in a personal way. Other times, I gain insight into another human being that I perhaps would not have otherwise had. Also, from a writer’s perspective, sometimes I’m honestly just awed by Gilbert’s ability to craft beautiful sentences and convey honest-to-God emotion.

Gilbert talks in Committed about intimacy between two people, and I think that same sort of intimacy can exist between a writer and his/her readers. She describes trading stories with her fiancé, explaining, “As long as I live, and even after [he] is gone, his childhood memory, his father, his river, his Brazil—all of this, too, has somehow become me.”

I think good, resonant writing is similar. I will remember pieces of Gilbert’s book for a long time; some pieces may even stick with me forever. She managed to create some manner of connection between herself and her reader, and some of what she said has become part of my narrative, part of me. I don’t mean to take this to extremes, but there’s something to this. Think about your favorite novel. I’m thinking of Pride and Prejudice, and I can honestly say that, in some ways, that book has become part of my own narrative. I can say the same about other books, or quotes, or the article I mentioned earlier that Gilbert wrote years ago for Yoga Journal. That article changed my worldview in some ways – how’s that for intimacy?

Marriage, Equality, and an Excerpt from Elizabeth Gilbert's New Book, Committed

2010-04-07T23:49:00.001-06:00

This is just too fabulous not to share. The following excerpt is from pages 77-78 of Elizabeth Gilbert's new book, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage:

     "One of my personal hero-couples of the marital freedom movement were a pair named Lillian Harman and Edwin Walker, of the great state of Kansas circa 1887. Lillian was a suffragette and the daughter of a noted anarchist; Edwin was a progressive journalist and feminist sympathizer. They were made for each other. When they fell in love and decided to seal their relationship, they visited neither minister nor judge, but entered instead into what they called an 'autonomistic marriage.' They created their own wedding vows, speaking during the ceremony about the absolute privacy of their union, and swearing that Edwin would not dominate his wife in any way, nor would she take his name. Moreover, Lillian refused to swear eternal loyalty to Edwin, but stated firmly that she would 'make no promises that it may become impossible or immoral for me to fulfill, but retain the right to act always as my conscience and best judgment shall dictate.'
     It goes without saying that Lillian and Edwin were arrested for this flouting of convention--and on their wedding night, no less... The pair were charged with failure to respect license and ceremony, with one judge stating that 'the union between E.C. Walker and Lillian Harman is no marriage, and they deserve all the punishment which has been inflicted upon them.'"

I've spent my whole life watching my friends and family shake their heads as they've wondered aloud what would've become of me had I lived in an earlier era. I'd like to think I'd have been like Lillian Harman if I lived back then. I certainly prefer that thought to the other likely possibilities, like where I'm jailed indefinitely for trying to earn a living any way I can, or where I'm horribly depressed for the better part of my life, or where I end up peeling yellow wallpaper from the walls as I descend into incurable madness.

I think we're at least two or three generations from where we should be with regard to women's rights and actual equality of the sexes. Even as I've kept my name and married someone who respects me, my ambition, and my strength, I still feel like my marriage is sometimes a negotiation between what tradition says it should be and what I think it should be.

Still, it's wise to remember how far we've come, because we've come a really, really long way. I was talking to a 79-year-old woman recently who, after earning her undergraduate and Master's degrees in mathematics in the 1950s (a feat in itself), was never able to land a job that utilized her skills and knowledge. Potential employers cared about nothing except how fast she could type. Ultimately, she ended up being a housewife and stay-at-home mom for her entire life, and she was not at all happy about that. I can't imagine how she must feel - my life and the options available to me are so incredibly different.

And we, as Western women, have so many more choices and opportunities than many women living elsewhere in the world (and many women living in abusive and oppressive situations in the Western world). We've come a long way, but we've got many more miles to travel.  Here's to all the Lillians--and to all the Edwins--who are working in myriad ways to create better, more just lives for all of us.

Yoga Playlist, Part I; Also, Krishna Das, Deva Premal, Miten, and Manose Concert

2010-04-04T23:42:00.006-06:00

I'm new to blogging, and this may have already been done (and done, and done again), but I love finding new music for my own yoga playlists as well as sharing my favorite songs with others. I thought I'd post some of my current favorites, and, if you have favorites of your own, please feel free to add a comment.

I know some styles of yoga are never practiced with music, and I can appreciate the desire to avoid the distractions music can bring. I know old songs can bring up nostalgic feelings for me while I'm practicing, which of course hardly keeps me focused on the present. Still, I love practicing to good music, and, because I most frequently practice power/vinyasa yoga, music during my classes is pretty much the norm, whether I'm teaching or taking. I find I can create a playlist (which a student of mine once termed a "yoga soundtrack") that is motivating and appropriate without being distracting.

Following are some of my current favorites for when I'm teaching or practicing at home. These are in no particular order.

Your Rocky Spine, by Great Lake Swimmers
I Know I'm Not Alone, by Michael Franti and Spearhead (probably my all-time favorite M. Franti song)
Islands, by The xx (I'm quite enjoying the entirety of their first album)
More Than Life, by Whitley (such a great song for balancing series)
I Go to the Barn Because I Like..., by Band of Horses
Land Rights, by Xavier Rudd (almost all of his songs make great yoga songs)
Time Will Tell, by Bob Marley and The Wailers
Golden, by My Morning Jacket
Makambo, by Geoffrey Oryema (I could listen to this every day and never tire of it - perfect for surrender series)
Man O' War, by Eric Bachmann (a huge hit with my students - thanks, Jennifer, for sharing this one with me)
Imagine + One, by Xiren (a beautiful fusion of Imagine by John Lennon and One by U2 - another huge hit with my students, and generously made available for download by CorePower Yoga)

Also, last night my sister and I had the privilege of attending a concert by Krishna Das, Deva Premal and Miten, and Manose at the Paramount Theatre (thanks, J.). We weren't sure what to expect, but it was truly a great show. The tour isn't over; click here or here to view upcoming concert dates.

I've been listening to Krishna Das and Deva Premal for a few years, but I had never heard of Miten or Manose. I now plan to learn more about both musicians. Manose plays the bamboo flute, which is incredible to hear, and his voice is haunting. Miten is also a talented musician with a beautiful voice--we could have listened to him for hours--and, as my sister said, Krishna Das' voice is a musical instrument in itself. We feel the same way about Deva Premal. Both Krishna Das and Deva Premal have new CDs out (Heart as Wide as the World and Mantras for Precarious Times, respectively), and I'm sure both are fantastic. (Premal's CD is meant as a tool for mantra practice.) Also worth mentioning is that all of these musicians were quite funny, and, as my sister also said, they didn't take themselves too seriously.

Yoga Miscellany

2010-03-28T21:50:00.018-06:00

"The soreness will move somewhere else"
I ran across something on another blog last week that I want to share (credit and gratitude to Reluctant Ashtangi). When the blog's author, an Astanga yoga student, asked her instructor about some soreness in her neck, the instructor's response was, "The soreness will move somewhere else." This made me laugh. It's absolutely true in my own yoga practice, so I've thought about this quote several times over the last few days.

I've injured myself a couple of times over the years while practicing, and I've also had two instructors injure me by pushing me too far, into pose variations my body wasn't ready for (and, by this, I mean literally push me too far; these were hands-on adjustments gone wrong). But injuries are quite different from the everyday aches and pains--and the travelling soreness--that I feel from time to time. I'm not sure if any or all of it is related to my yoga practice, but I do wonder sometimes what my body would feel like if I wasn't practicing power/vinyasa yoga on an almost daily basis.

Yoga's benefits go far beyond the physical, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't carefully consider whether our practice is making us feel better physically. During David Swenson's recent workshop in Denver, he talked a bit about his long-time friend and fellow yogi, David Williams, who says you should consider how your body feels around 7 o'clock in the evenings in order to determine whether your practice is having a positive physical effect. After using this method to assess how my body feels most days, I realized I rarely have any soreness at all. (Of related interest is David Williams' Open Letter to Students.)

A humbling and fabulous yoga class
Last Thursday, I attended a truly amazing yoga class at Root Yoga Center. The space is incredible - the studio is basically one large, beautiful room with exposed brick walls and huge windows that let in the gorgeous evening light (how I love daylight savings time!). Root is on the second floor of the building, above the Savory Spice Shop, and I felt like I was leaving the rest of the world behind as I climbed the stairs to the yoga studio. The studio office and restroom are spare, but in a good, comfortable way, and the studio itself just plain makes me happy.

What I really want to write about, however, is the yoga class itself. I left the class feeling absolutely overwhelmed (in a very good way) by all I had learned in just one hour. I'm sure the instructor, Regina, didn't set out to teach me how to teach yoga, but I came away from her class with ideas, thoughts, plans, and energy. Regina's demeanor is kind and confident, and she is 100% focused on her students at all times. It will take me years to gain the kind of confidence and knowledge she has, but that doesn't discourage me. I'm inspired by the potential, and I'm excited to keep learning.

A few of the lessons I gleaned from Regina's class:

• Face the students more often! Regina never had her back to us. This may have been partly because Root doesn't have mirrors, but perhaps not. There are times when I face the mirror intentionally so my students can use the mirror to see what I'm doing. My back is to my students in these situations, but I find this approach particularly helpful when moving the class into balancing poses like Dancer's and Eagle. But there are many other instances during class when I could face my students, make eye contact, and smile.

• Smile more! I find this very difficult, and I'm not really sure why. I can't stop myself from smiling at people as they enter the studio and check in for class, and I'm all smiles again after class as everyone leaves the building. But, for some reason, I have to try really hard to smile while I teach. I'm sure it's a lack of confidence, or the inability to smile and cue at the same time, or a combination of those things, but I'm determined to work on this.

• Regina gave great, thoughtful, careful cues. I remember a few of them, but I may ask if I can take notes when I attend her next class. I used one of her cues today (in Crow pose, squeeze your knees towards one another) with my beginner students, and I think it was quite helpful.

• She allowed for a lot of silence. I tend to allow for quite a bit of silence as well, at least relative to many other instructors. But I've often wondered if I should provide even more quiet space in my classes, and I think I got my answer on Thursday. I absolutely reveled in the silence Regina created for us.

• She went slowly. For the most part, I have to teach a set sequence of poses, and I love, love, love the sequence (I'll write more on that another day). Teaching this specific sequence means I have to fit many poses into just one hour, but I can definitely slow it down a bit and perhaps choose certain poses to spend more time on during each class. I'm looking forward to exploring that idea further.

I was so humbled by this class. My eyes were re-opened to the enormity of what I'm trying to do when I teach yoga, and it was a bit mind-boggling. Still, the excitement and the potential outweigh everything else. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to learn from such an incredible teacher.

I took the above photo of the Denver skyline with my iPhone after class on Thursday night - it's not great photography, but I like it anyway. One of the other highlights of practicing at Root is parking my car on one side of the freeway and then walking across a very fun bridge to the neighborhood where Root is. It really is cool. I love bridges; I love skylines; and I especially love staring at Denver's skyline on a warm spring night post-yoga. Doesn't get better than that.

108 Sun Salutations

2010-03-21T23:24:00.056-06:00

Yesterday morning, on the first day of spring, I went to Free Soul Yoga to do 108 Sun Salutations (Surya
Namaskar A).  The instructor began class by talking a little bit about what we were about to do.

She told us we'd begin by doing 25 salutations toward the west, which signified what was ending (winter). Then we'd do 25 salutations each to the north and south before ending with 33 to the east, which would symbolize the new beginning (spring). She also spoke a bit about winter and how we often go inside during the cold months, both figuratively and literally. Spring is a time for us to open back up.

The next class had to be in the yoga room just an hour after we began, and the sun salutations took longer than expected. We ended up doing 54 instead of 108, but I learned a lot during those 54 salutations and the few minutes of floor poses that followed.

As we faced west, which symbolized winter, the instructor asked us to think about what we wanted to let go. Then, as we faced east, we each set an intention for spring. As a yoga student, I am often asked to set intentions, and it's interesting to observe what comes up for me in those situations. I find that my first thoughts are usually the most accurate and truthful, but they are often followed (with breathtaking speed) by qualifications, justifications, and belabored analysis. At that point, my job is to sift back through all the BS, find that initial thought, and gauge whether it is indeed the right intention.

I also frequently encounter an indecisiveness that is not part of my everyday personality. For example, yesterday when the teacher asked us to set an intention for what we wanted spring to bring, I debated for what felt like forever before narrowing it down to optimism, abundance, generosity, and strength. Limiting myself more than that would have been impossible given the question and the context. For some unknown reason I had placed huge amounts of expectations onto this one particular Saturday morning.

I learned even more about myself as we moved through our sun salutations.  For one thing, I started the practice drowning in complete self-absorption. Am I doing this right? Should my arms go here, or here? Should I jump back to chaturanga? Should I jump forward? Should I even be here? What if this was a very, very bad idea? What will happen if I have to roll up my mat and leave? Could I ever show my face here again?

I calmed down a bit after a few rounds and tried to focus on my breath, but little, annoying thoughts continued to creep up. Am I going too fast? Am I going too slow? Should my breath be louder? Am I exhaling too soon? Maybe I should stop jumping back.

And then there was the counting.  The instructor had mentioned before we started that we should help her keep count. I forgot this request until we had completed at least five sun salutations, and then I focused inordinate amounts of energy on trying to determine what the count should be.

After we'd completed 25 (or was it 27?), my mind found new problems to occupy itself. My right wrist aches. I felt a twinge in my left elbow. Perhaps I should be modifying already. Why don't I want to do cobra pose? Since when have my wrists hurt in upward-facing dog? Why must I insist on doing upward-facing dog anyway? Maybe I should modify everything. Maybe I should take a break. I don't really need a break. The break would be premature, and I might regret it. After all, one of my intentions when we faced west was to shove laziness out of my life.

But should I be pacing myself? Should I have started slower? Maybe I should have modified in the beginning and not jumped back or forward until the end, once I knew for certain that I wouldn't have to pick up my mat and flee this yoga studio forever. But wait, is this yoga, or a 10K? What is wrong with me? Why can't I focus on my breath and only my breath for at least, well, one breath?

As usual, my mind was hell-bent on travelling wherever it wanted. Happily, though, I had so much time--so many breaths!--in that yoga room on Saturday that I was able to work past some of the chatter and go a little deeper. About halfway through, I thought about an article in Shambhala Sun magazine that I'd read earlier in the week.  In the article, Thich Nhat Hanh shares five mindfulness exercises with his readers. He talks in beautiful detail about learning to be in the moment and learning to focus on the breath.

"Breathing in, I know that I am breathing in," he says, and he reminds his readers that to breathe in is a miracle each and every time. There is joy and happiness in recognizing this miracle, in viewing your breath as a "celebration of life." As I worked further into the 54 sun salutations, I thought more about this and then, with some success, implemented it into my breath and yoga poses.

I paid close attention to my breath and how it filled my lungs and expanded my torso from all sides.  When my mind wandered, I tried to bring it back to the moment, concentrating on both my breath and my body awareness. I don't think it's possible to focus on your breath and physical body without travelling to a place of sheer gratitude. In those moments, instead of worrying about what the future might bring, I felt my muscles moving; I felt the strength of my body; and I felt thankful.

There I was, in a yoga studio, on a Saturday morning, lifting my arms up, jumping my legs back, worrying about silly things like whether I'd lost count during my last downdog. I was breathing in deep, forgetting to breathe entirely, exhaling beautifully, inhaling twice in a row to catch up with the others, feeling inadequate, feeling absolutely adequate and special and connected, concentrating on stupid things, and opening my mind to all kinds of possibilities. I was knee-deep already in optimism, abundance, generosity, and strength, and, best of all, I knew it.

[Click here to check out the Global Mala Project.]

What's Your Vibe?

2010-03-14T23:58:00.061-06:00

Please accept my apologies for the delay between postings. This week was busier than usual, with a busy work week, subbing two yoga classes in addition to my regular two classes, and some (amazing!) yoga workshops. Free Soul Yoga hosted a "Weekend with David Swenson," which included five separate workshops, and I was able to attend two of them.

David Swenson is one of the foremost experts on Ashtanga Yoga, which is one of the yoga styles that provide the foundation for power vinyasa yoga, the style I practice most. I own Swenson's book, Ashtanga Yoga: The Practice Manual, and I've been wowed by photos of him demonstrating incredible yoga poses. Swenson began practicing in 1969, before yoga was well known or accepted in the West, and he studied under K. Pattabhi Jois (!). To have Swenson in Denver leading a yoga workshop of this kind was an amazing gift - I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to attend.

Swenson truly seems to live his yoga. He is caring, humble, thoughtful, and, most of all, present. He seemed genuinely to care about each person in the room as an individual, and this was clear both when he lectured and when he instructed a yoga practice. I had planned to attend only the Friday night workshop, "Ashtanga: An Introduction," but I found myself registering for a second workshop within minutes of finishing the first! And I'm very glad I attended that second session, which was called "The Physics of Flight and Flowing through Practice."

During the first session, Swenson discussed what he calls the "five elements of Ashtanga practice." These elements are ujjayi breathing; Drishti; the bandhas; asanas; and vinyasa (he explained that "vinyasa" means that every movement has a prescribed breath attached to it). He talked about each of these elements in some detail, illustrating difficult concepts with personal anecdotes and a sense of humor, and he encouraged us to keep these technical details in perspective.

Perspective is necessary because, as Swenson explained, the real goal of yoga is "to increase prana in our bodies," and the real test for our yoga is, "What do you do with that energy the rest of the day?" He said, "We are each pulsing energy all day long - what is your vibe? Is it positive, or is it negative?"

This is what yoga is really about. Swenson added that lots of mean people can put their bodies into perfect yoga poses; yoga is not about a perfect pose or having a perfect body.

He expanded on this point during the second workshop, explaining that alignment in yoga postures is about avoiding injury, and it doesn't actually matter what your body looks like in a yoga posture. The big picture is about staying present and focused; how we look in our yoga poses or whether we can do a certain pose are both irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

This doesn't mean alignment has no place in a yoga class, and it doesn't mean we shouldn't strive to improve our yoga practice. But, as Swenson explained, most of the time we "live on the plateau" with regard to our yoga practice. Sometimes we progress and sometimes we feel like we've taken two steps back, but usually we just live on the plateau. As a result, Swenson went on to say, yoga means making every effort you can towards something and then detaching from the outcome.

I shared a lot of this with my beginner-level classes today, and I think it resonated with them. I reminded them to let go of expectations on the yoga mat (which is a practice we can try to take off the mat as well). Swenson reminded us that every day on the mat is different, and, when you first step onto your mat for the day, you really have no idea what you're going to get. We shouldn't measure our yoga practice by how balanced or flexible or strong we are on a given day.

If you look at Swenson's Practice Manual, you'll see that he offers alternatives for many Ashtanga poses. He seems to want yoga to be accessible to everyone, and providing modifications for the postures is a way to do this. For many reasons, I'm grateful to him for this philosophy of inclusiveness, and, on a purely physical level, I was very grateful for some of those alternatives! I'd only taken two Ashtanga classes before this weekend, and I was definitely a beginner. That, too, was a great experience for me - it reminded me how my beginner students probably feel, which further deepened my compassion and respect for them.

Practice and Theory

2010-03-07T23:45:00.110-07:00

I'm slowly learning about the blogging community (the "blogosphere"), and it's quite intriguing. There's a whole world out here, and I like it!  I'm following a few other yoga-related blogs, and I'm searching for some blogs that discuss writing and the writing process. When I have time, I'd also like to find some good bloggers who keep up with hip-hop and alternative music.

I've been very impressed with many of the other yoga blogs. My yoga studio and teacher training peers have become a terrific, supportive community for me, and it's fun to think there might be an online community that could provide similar support and conversation. I can't wait to dig in a bit deeper.

In reading several posts on a few yoga blogs, I noticed that some writers seem concerned or bothered by some of the ways yoga is perceived and practiced in the West these days. This isn't unusual; I've read opposing opinions for years regarding whether the "Westernization" of yoga is good for yoga or whether it's having a negative effect. Certainly, yoga in the West is constantly changing - some might argue it's evolving; others might say we're moving backwards.

For me, it's an easy call. I truly believe anyone and everyone can benefit from yoga, and I don't really care why someone first comes to the mat, where they practice, or how traditional their yoga experience is. If I place my mat on the floor of a 24-Hour Fitness, the benefits of my yoga practice can be just as powerful as if I practice at the most traditional yoga studio in town.  Same deal if I unroll my mat on the basement floor of the local church or community center, and no different if I roll my mat out in a tiny space at home and follow a yoga DVD or podcast.

I'm oversimplifying to some extent, and I do recognize that one's practice space can have an impact -- beauty, comfort, inspiration all matter -- but I think my underlying point is valid. This is yoga we're talking about, and I think we, as a community, should strive for inclusiveness and non-judgment at all times. Yoga may be the hip thing to do right now, and some of our students may practice yoga for precisely that reason, but such reasons are likely to change over time.

I can appreciate and respect others' concerns that, if we're too flippant or indifferent, we might lose sight of important aspects of yoga.  I know that many people practicing yoga in the United States today likely do so without a fundamental understanding of yoga's benefits or history. In fact, when I first practiced, I lacked any such understanding. But, ten years later, I've made yoga a major focus of my life. I study the benefits; I study the history; I come to my mat consistently; and I try to pay it forward, teaching others what I've learned.  Yoga has made me a better, happier person, and how I found it initially is far less important than the fact that I found it.

The fast growth of yoga in the United States has certainly changed the practice in many respects. But it's also vitalized it in new ways.  A great example is Western yoga scholarship. Stephen Cope's The Wisdom of Yoga discusses ancient yoga philosophy alongside recent neurological science, explaining how yoga works to the modern -- and perhaps skeptical -- reader.  Cope's work is a valuable contribution to yoga literature.

One limitation of the blog medium is that there's not a lot of space to address nuance if I want to keep my posts to a (somewhat) reader-friendly length. This is one post for which I think nuance, detail, and thoughtfulness are extremely important, and I want to be clear that I'm not indifferent to the concerns of more traditionally-minded yogis. But a recent quote I received through Darren Main's quote-of-the-day email seems quite relevant to this discussion. Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, esteemed yoga teacher and a leader in bringing yoga to the West, said, "Yoga is 99% practice and 1% theory."

I've written before about how the physical yoga poses (asanas) are only one part of The Eight-Limbed Path; the yogic path is not exclusively (or even primarily) about the physical yoga practice, though in the West we often focus on that aspect of yoga.

But, even if much of Western yoga ignores the rest of The Eight-Limbed Path, I can't think it a bad thing for Westerners to come to their mats to practice, even if many never delve any deeper into yoga and even if "practice" means only the physical asana practice. After all, it's the practice that matters most (99%!), and it's our job as teachers to convey -- and live -- that truth.

Thoughts on Dani Shapiro's New Book, Devotion: A Memoir

2010-03-02T23:19:00.117-07:00

Spirituality exists wherever we struggle with the issue of how our lives fit into the greater cosmic scheme of things... We encounter spiritual issues every time we wonder where the universe comes from, why we are here, or what happens when we die. We also become spiritual when we become moved by values such as beauty, love, or creativity that seem to reveal a meaning or power beyond our visible world. An idea or practice is "spiritual" when it reveals our personal desire to establish a felt-relationship with the deepest meanings or powers governing life.

--Robert C. Fuller, professor of religious studies--

I decided to read Dani Shapiro's memoir, Devotion, after reading an excerpt of it printed in Body + Soul magazine. In the excerpt, Shapiro quotes Sylvia Boorstein, a Buddhist teacher and author who often teaches at the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health (a dream destination of mine). Boorstein had said, "Life is difficult for everybody. Once you're in, there's no way out. You have to go forward. And we all die in the end. So how to deal with it?"

Boorstein's quote resonated with me in a big way, as did the rest of the excerpt included in the magazine. I resolved to buy the book in hopes that what Shapiro had learned might help me with my own spiritual questions. What had once been questions and worries I could quickly put out of my mind had, in recent months, sharpened into a full-blown spiritual crisis. I desperately needed help figuring out my own beliefs and calming my growing feelings of fear and dread, and it seemed Dani Shapiro had been dealing with something similar.

To sum up Devotion in one tidy sentence, it is a memoir Shapiro wrote after spending a couple of years thinking, reading, meditating, practicing yoga, and seeking out spiritual leaders in hopes of coming to terms with what she calls a midlife spiritual crisis. But one sentence cannot do the book justice. It's a very big book, and, for me, it becomes bigger the longer I sit with it.

I found Shapiro's writing beautiful and unpretentious, and I felt like I had a lot in common with her. This, I'm sure, made her memoir especially relevant for me, but I think her honesty and self-awareness likely allow her to connect well with most readers. She is clearly grateful for the privileged life she leads, and she doesn't take it for granted. This is not a whiny book. This is one woman’s story, and she understands perfectly well that it is merely her story and no one else's.

The Boorstein quote above hooked me, certainly, as did Shapiro's writing style, but I decided I would read each and every one of her books when she shared her two “least favorite bromides”: “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle,” and “Everything happens for a reason.” It so happens these are also my least favorite bromides! I don’t believe in them, and I cringe when I hear them. It was nice to learn I’m not alone.

As an adult, Shapiro has studied Buddhism, yoga philosophy, Kabbalah. But, as a child, she was raised in a strict Jewish Orthodox family, and this upbringing, along with the complex relationships she had with her mother and father, has a huge impact on her adult spiritual life. While trying to figure out how to incorporate her Jewishness into her adult life and the life of her own family, Shapiro turns to Boorstein, who was also raised Jewish and who has said, "It's not a question, for me, of deciding to complicate myself with Judaism. I am complicated with Judaism. I have too much background in it not to be."

Though my family was not as religious as Shapiro's, I was raised a Catholic, and I can appreciate and relate to Shapiro's efforts to determine Judaism's place within her spiritual beliefs. I too might follow Boorstein’s lead and just accept that I am complicated with Catholicism and all of the history, meaning, comfort, and discomfort that goes along with it.

Shapiro says about Judaism, “I no longer felt that I had to embrace it all—nor did I feel that I had to run away. I could take the bits and pieces that made sense to me, and incorporate them into the large patchwork of our lives.” I have Catholic family members who would call this a cop-out; they don’t believe you can just pick and choose the aspects of a religion you like, the ones that “make sense” to you. But why not? Isn’t spirituality a personal thing? Isn’t that sort-of the point?

Though Shapiro doesn’t figure it all out by the end of Devotion, she does discover two key elements of her spiritual life, and both have helped me as I work through my own spiritual baggage.

The first is connectedness. Shapiro talks about her father being buried near his father and his grandfather. Something about the inevitability of this and the connectedness of those men really spoke to me. Connectedness is a theme throughout the book, and Shapiro skillfully shows the reader how religion can bring about a comforting sense of connection. She never discounts organized religion; she truly brings an open mind to the questions she’s asking.

The second discovery Shapiro makes is that action helps. Practicing yoga, meditating, and reading from a book of Buddhist wisdom all make her feel better. She explains, “Whenever I took an action…I felt…better... The scales tipped away from suffering and toward openheartedness and love."

As a committed yogi, I can attest that action helps, but Shapiro has inspired me to renew my focus on these sorts of actions. In many ways, her experience confirms what my instincts have told me for some time. But she did the hard work, and I’m just beginning. To state the obvious, every journey is different, and I’ve got much more work to do.

Next up on my learn-to-accept-mortality reading list is Light on Life by the esteemed yogi, B.K.S. Iyengar. I'll let you know what he says!

Perspective

2010-02-27T23:40:00.003-07:00

Today, when my yoga teacher walked into the yoga room to begin class, she looked around at the beautiful space filled with students and asked how we were all doing. After several of us responded that we were doing great, she said, "It's Saturday, and we get to be here, practicing yoga. Life is good." Then she paused and repeated, "Life is good. Life is very, very good."

[Photo taken at Denver Botanic Gardens.]

Re-learning Namaste

2010-02-22T23:28:00.005-07:00

Have I mentioned how much I love teaching yoga to beginners? I have never experienced anything like it.

Tonight I had a woman walk up to the desk and ask for help in choosing her first yoga class. She looked at me and said, "I am 53 years old, and I've never done a single athletic thing in my life," and she asked me to tell her everything I could to get her prepared for this big step. And it is a big step. If I put myself in her shoes, I wonder if I'd have the guts. It's truly remarkable.

I want so much for that woman to return to the studio and take that first class. I gave her all the information I could manage in a short amount of time, but we were interrupted constantly and then I had to leave the conversation to teach my class. I hope she heard what I was saying. I also have to be careful not to scare people away with my enthusiasm. I believe so fervently that yoga is life-changing and empowering; I want beginners to give it a real chance. I want them to take classes regularly for at least two or three weeks before they decide how they feel about yoga. I want them to try different styles, different teachers, different times of day. It all matters. It all helps.

I also had several brand new beginners in my class tonight. This is actually somewhat rare; I teach beginner-level classes, but it's not often I have more than one or two people there who have never taken a single yoga class. It's a challenge, but it's more rewarding than I'd ever expected. I was humbled tonight as I looked around the room and saw every student giving 100% effort during a difficult pose. And, despite having to crane their necks to watch demonstrations, the new students persevered and did their best to keep up.

I'm a new teacher, and I'm nervous when I walk into the yoga room to teach a class. But I've been in yoga rooms hundreds and hundreds of times. My anxiety must be a fraction of a brand new student's anxiety. The courage evident in the class I taught tonight was inspiring, as was the trust the students placed in me. They were listening to every word I said and trying to follow each instruction perfectly.

At one point (remember: very new teacher!), I accidentally got them all turned backwards on their mats (it was easier than you'd think, but my cues for bridge pose obviously need some work!). I stood there for a moment, rather confused, and wondered who on earth gave me permission to teach these amazing people anything. But then I laughed, turned them around, and moved on. None of them seemed to notice or care, and, if they did, they hid their frustration.

It's become quite interesting for me, as an instructor, to say "Namaste" at the end of class. Namaste, a Sanskrit word, means, "the teacher (or light) in me honors the teacher (or light) in you." In this context, "teacher" does not mean yoga instructor. Each of us is a teacher, a light, in the world. At the end of yoga practice, the instructor says "Namaste" to the class, and the class says "Namaste" in return.

I've never taken the word "Namaste" lightly. I've always tried to infuse it with meaning when responding to my yoga teachers at the end of class. But never before have I meant it with such force. I want so much to honor my students, to share with them how much I respect their courage, their trust, their compassion - but, again, I don't want to scare them or make them uncomfortable. Instead, I put all of my thoughts into that one word--Namaste--and hope at least some small message is conveyed.

[Photo taken at Denver Botanic Gardens.]

Getting Out of the Way

2010-02-18T23:40:00.186-07:00

My yoga studio has become a regular part of nearly every day, and now, after several years, it feels like a second home to me.   A couple of years ago, I was scheduled to travel for work, and I had planned to get to the studio for an early morning class before I had to leave for the airport. I almost didn't make it to the class in time, and I really needed my practice that day.

I felt relief wash over me that morning when I walked through the studio's doors.  I know that sounds hokey, but that's how it felt. Some kind of palpable freedom suddenly lightened me physically and improved my attitude and my energy. Even before the class started, I felt like everything was going to be okay.

I don't mean to make it sound like yoga is some sort of addiction that requires a fix, or like it's a band-aid that instantly remedies the problems in your life. But I often hear people describe their yoga mat as a safe place. It's a place where you can let go of all expectations, including the expectations you personally have for the future (be it the immediate future or the distant one) and the expectations you think others have put on you.

My yoga practice was no different from anything else in my life when I first started practicing. I wanted to be the best at it, better than anyone else in the room. I frequently watched the other students and compared myself to them. I felt frustrated when I couldn't do a pose other people managed to do, and I wanted so badly to please my teacher that I injured myself multiple times by pushing myself into poses my body wasn't ready for. I didn't understand how to have compassion for myself, and I wanted to push my body to the limit.

It has taken many years of practice, but I've finally learned how to focus on just my own mat during class. I've accepted that the people around me are on their own journeys, and I must respect that and let it go. Yoga is about non-judgment, and this means we shouldn't be overly critical of ourselves. I've learned that what my body can do today might be quite different from what my body can do tomorrow. Poses change from year to year, day to day, and moment to moment. And, on any given day, one side of my body can feel markedly different from the other. As I mature in my practice, I realize how much inner strength is required to take a pose down a notch when a modification is what the body really needs.

I still want to be the best yoga teacher I can be, but that sentiment doesn't stem from my competitive spirit. It's much more about the students than it is about me. If I work hard enough and stay focused and present when I teach, perhaps I'll help someone else out there begin to feel the freedom that comes with a dedicated practice. Perhaps I'll help someone else choose to make space in his or her life for a practice that will help him/her be a better parent, or a better friend, or a better manager.

When I practice yoga, I endeavor to let go of my thoughts and to focus only on my breath and the movement of my body. Similarly, I think teaching yoga is about getting out of the way.  No part of it is about me.  My role is to do such a good job that my students can forget themselves for a little while. My job is to get out of the way and let yoga do its thing.

Abundance

2010-02-02T23:30:00.004-07:00

Studying yoga philosophy, I've often encountered the idea of abundance. Yoga teaches that we should trust that we have enough and that we'll always have what we need. Yoga also teaches that we should practice non-attachment and greedlessness. Practicing greedlessness, or aparigraha, is an important part of step one of The Eight-Limbed Path.

Darren Main explains that, to feel greed, you must believe there is a lack or scarcity. If you believe you'll always have what you need, there is no reason to be selfish or attached. In fact, if you believe in abundance, you can cultivate selflessness. I love this idea. I want to cultivate selflessness, and I want to stop worrying that my family won't have what they need, or that we'll lose what we have, etc. Worrying benefits no one, and I feel ridiculous and guilty for worrying about such things when most of the people in this world have so much less than we do.

So I've chosen to incorporate a belief in abundance into my life. It's not easy, and I'll probably always struggle with it. I have to remind myself that I don't get to define what constitutes "enough." I just have to trust. I'm taking another look at what faith means to me. Undeniably, things like the earthquake in Haiti test my faith in this concept of abundance, and I won't pretend to fit what has happened there into some neat little tenet of yogic philosophy (were I to try, I'd be in way over my head, and I wouldn't be writing from an authentic place anyway). I am merely offering this idea of abundance to you in case you find something useful in it. Perhaps it will settle into your thoughts for awhile and then, later, take you by surprise, as it did me.

For a long time, when I thought about abundance and greed and non-attachment, I thought about stuff. (Consumerist culture-type stuff.) And I thought about money. (Happily, a belief in abundance makes it easier to give money away to those who need it more.) But, recently, I heard someone saying that we should also trust that we have an abundance of time. I can't remember who said it, or where I was when I heard it, but that doesn't matter. For me, trusting in such abundance would be nothing short of life-changing.

For as far back as I can remember, I've spent nearly every waking minute thinking about what's next. I want to fit as much into this one life as I possibly can, and, to achieve this, I've become the most scheduled person I know. My husband tells people I'm happiest when I'm busiest, and he doesn't understand how I can disagree. And, really, how can I disagree when all evidence says he's right? I set unreasonable goals for myself before each weekend has even begun, and then I close out my Sunday night feeling guilty that I didn't get to everything. I think the only time I'm truly present is when I'm practicing yoga.

Trusting that I have an abundance of time changes everything. Everything! I can't adequately describe the relief--the freedom--it brings. I don't have to jump from activity to activity. I don't feel so rushed. I still fight my old ways, of course, but I'm much more conscious of the decisions I make about how I spend my time. More than anything, I'm trying to stay in the present moment and appreciate it.

For several years, I've had a sticker hanging in my closet that says, "The meaning of life is to live it." I realize now that I didn't really understand it before, but I'm starting to figure it out.

(The above paraphrased quote by Darren Main is from his book, Yoga and the Path of the Urban Mystic, which I highly recommend.)

(Photo info: I took this photo a few years ago at a special exhibit at the Denver Botanic Gardens. This statue is called 12 Buddhas.)

Wage Peace

2010-01-30T23:30:00.000-07:00

STATE RADIO -
Last Friday, my sister and I drove to Boulder to see State Radio perform at the Boulder Theater. It was a terrific show.

The State Radio band members are all about connecting their music to a message, and their lyrics are purposeful and political. (See http://www.stateradio.com/about for more.) I absolutely love this about them, and I also love the music itself.

As we headed into the seating area before the show, a CU student stopped us to ask whether we'd be interested in signing up for the Calling All Crows email list. He explained that Calling All Crows is State Radio's nonprofit organization, and that, in 2009, the organization raised $100,000 to provide stoves to women in Sudan. The CU student was working as a Calling All Crows volunteer at the show, and he'd also participated in a State Radio public service event held on the university campus earlier that day.

State Radio's website explains, "The band is dedicated to delivering more than just music. And we have come to expect more from our fans. We want them to be activists. We want them to be organizers in their own community. We want them to see the inequities in the world, gather, use their voices, demand change... and be that which they want to see in the world."

Does it get better than that? I doubt it. We, of course, signed up. And bought t-shirts.

The band is great live. I would go see them again, and again, and again. I don't say that about many artists. They are talented musicians, and their music is an intriguing blend of several genres. If you want to check them out, you can listen to all of their music on their website, and they've made their lyrics easily accessible there too.

Some of my favorite songs include "Mansin Humanity," "Revolutionaries," "Calling All Crows," "Camilo," "Keepsake," "Right Me Up," and "Knights of Bostonia."

(Photo info: the band's backdrop at the show was a banner with "WAGE PEACE" written across the center.)

AN IMPORTANT ASIDE - Calling All Crows partnered with Oxfam America to provide stoves to women refugees in Sudan because it's extremely dangerous for the women to leave camp to gather fuel for their fires.  The stoves provided by Oxfam are far more fuel-efficient and thus reduce the amount of time the women must spend outside camp, and the stoves are also better for the environment.  Learn more and/or donate at http://www.callingallcrows.org/page/stoves-project.

On a related note, I recently read an article in The New Yorker about the work being done to invent better stoves for use in developing nations around the world.  Current cooking methods are often dangerous and unhealthy, and improving cooking methods can have an immense impact on women and their families.  Please see http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/12/21/091221fa_fact_bilger.

Also, for those interested in how to effectively fundraise for nonprofits, Outside Magazine recently published an article about what motivates most people to give.  Research has shown that people are more motivated to donate if they know their gift will be used for a very specific purpose (e.g., a $10 gift will purchase five meals).  In addition, people are more motivated to give if a problem seems manageable; for instance, though it seems counter-intuitive, people are more likely to give if one person needs assistance than if hundreds do. Read the entire article at http://outside.away.com/outside/culture/200912/nicholas-kristof-philanthropy-advice-1.html.

Surrender

2010-01-25T23:51:00.057-07:00

I began practicing yoga ten or eleven years ago when I lived in Flagstaff, Arizona. At that time, I thought of yoga as another type of exercise, a supplement to my running and other workouts. I probably took two yoga classes most weeks, but there were some weeks I didn't go at all.

Despite the lack of consistency in my practice back then, I distinctly remember one night when, stressed out from working full-time, waiting tables on top of my regular job, and taking graduate classes, I walked into my studio apartment, unrolled my purple mat, and literally fell into child's pose. I began focusing on my breathing and understood, however briefly, what true surrender felt like.

I like the way Swami Chetanananda describes surrender: "The ultimate attainment is already ours, but the experience of it comes to us only when we are in a state of complete surrender. In this case, 'surrender' means the surrender of everything--every effort, desire, thought of attainment or, indeed, anything that represents the thought of any other--as we become centered instead."

When we learn to let go--and I mean really let go--we find centeredness. And we find contentment and nonattachment. We begin to feel right in the world.

I practiced yoga for two or three years in Flagstaff, always at the same health club, always with the same instructor. When I moved to Denver, I couldn't afford the yoga studios I found. Had I investigated further, I would've realized that most health clubs offer yoga classes, as do many community centers and other organizations. And, because yoga continues to grow in the U.S., more classes are available every day. But I didn't investigate further; instead, for two years I practiced at home every so often, listening to an audio tape of my Flagstaff teacher's class. Yoga was not part of my average week anymore.

Then I temporarily went back to Arizona to help care for a seriously ill relative. There was a yoga studio located across the street from where I was staying, and I took a class. I went back again the next day, and the next. I convinced my sister to join me, and she began attending daily classes as well. Life is hard for all of us at least some of the time, and some days (or weeks, or years) are especially difficult. For me, it took a difficult time in my life to bring me back to my mat. I learned (or re-learned, or maybe just began to learn) how to surrender, to find peace. It's not always easy to do, but, the more consistently I practice and the more I study the philosophy of yoga, the easier it becomes.

For me, that centeredness--the ability to cultivate contentment, no matter what's going on around me, even if just for a few seconds--is one of the most amazing things about yoga. In some ways I can't get my head around how it works, while at the same time it makes absolute sense to me.

Once I returned to Denver, I tried every studio I could find and quickly found two I liked. I practiced, almost without fail, every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Working full-time and attending school at night were easier once I let yoga back in. I've heard fellow yogis say that, if you make the time for yoga, you end up with more time for everything else. I'm sure this means different things to different people, but to me it means gaining the energy (physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual) to keep perspective and maintain balance and contentment in my life.

In western culture, we often think of yoga primarily as a series of physical postures (asanas). This makes sense, as the asana practice is usually our focus these days. But yoga is actually much more. The philosophy of yoga is based on something called The Eight-Limbed Path, and the physical postures make up only step three of eight. Traditionally, the purpose of the asana practice was to prepare the body for meditation - the postures help us quiet the chatter of our thoughts.

For me, the postures do just that. My asana practice is a moving meditation; I can focus on my breath and the movement of my body and let go of the rest. My "monkey mind" slows down a bit. It's hard to focus on anything but the present when you're trying to balance on one foot while isometrically moving different muscles in different directions, bringing one hand toward the floor and reaching the other toward the ceiling, and flexing your lifted foot toward your face!

And, at the end of a 60 or 90 minute practice, when my mind has quieted and I'm resting in the final pose, savasana, I am more likely to know surrender. I will almost certainly leave more centered than when I arrived, and, the more consistent my practice, the more I find myself bringing that centeredness off the yoga mat and into the outside world.