The Yoga of Travel

I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t my dream to travel the world.  Unlike my childhood dreams of living in a tree house or making all of my own clothes, this is a dream that I have made a reality. Of course, the more of the world I see, the more of the world I want to see.

We just got back from a week-long trip to Japan. Having been raised in a country the size of the US it is hard to fathom that in the same time it takes to fly from Chicago to New York City, once can fly from Seoul to Tokyo.

It was a fantastic trip, full of adventure and learning. Whether it be the confusion of attempting to purchase a round-trip ticket on the airport railway (wait, I need a base fare ticket AND a reserved seat ticket?) or the game of charades required to order food without any animal products, I am constantly reminded of why I love to travel: stepping outside of my comfort zone is an exercise in humility, patience, compassion, and empathy. Also, it can be hilarious.

Much like asana, travel requires constant readjustment, both of the physical body and the  mental perspective. It also requires lots of deep breaths. It can be confusing and sometimes infuriating to navigate through a city and culture that is not familiar. Breathing deeply, proceeding mindfully, and allowing things to unfold rather than forcing things to happen – these are all great practices for yoga, for travel, and for life.

And now, some highlights:

Sanjusangen-do, the longest wooden building in Japan, containing 1001 statues of Kannon, the Goddess of Compassion

In Kyoto we visited Sanjusangen-do, a temple containing 1, 001 statues of Kannon, the Goddess of Compassion. (There are no photos allowed inside. ) There are also 28 guardian statues, and on Avalokitesvara (Kannon in male form) was inscribed this mantra: Om Vajra-Dharma Hrih. It is the heart mantra which is said to be one of the most important taught to sentient beings, and recited in all worlds. The compassion of Kannon/Avalokitesvara is all-seeing and all-embracing, aided as they are by their 1,000 arms.

 

The Great Buddha at Daibutsu-den in Nara

This is a photo of the largest bronze Buddha in the world, which resides in the largest wooden building in the world, in the Great Buddha Hall of the Todai-ji Temple complex.  Words cannot describe it, and the picture does not do it justice.

 

A view of Tokyo from the 45th Floor of a government building

And here is Tokyo. Tokyo is mind-boggling enormous. It is the world’s largest metropolitan area with an estimated 35 million people. Yes, you read that right. 35 million people. Seoul’s metropolitan area population is 25 million, so only 10 million fewer people than Tokyo. One of the things that is most striking about Tokyo, especially given its huge population, is that it is incredibly clean and orderly. There was very little litter on the streets and none of the mayhem of other large cities, such as Bombay, that I’ve visited. I think there is something to be said about how the way a people care for their environment directly reflects how they value their citizens, and vice versa.

The thing that was perhaps most fascinating to me about Japan, and this is true of Korea as well, is that is remains deeply rooted and firmly grounded in the past while marching ahead into the future. If there is a great deal of inner turmoil about this, it was not obvious to me as an outsider.

It was a fantastic trip. And next week, we’re off to Hong Kong! I’ll be attending the Asia Yoga Conference and am taking a  few classes with Sri Dharma Mittra.

Stay tuned ….

 

 

 

The Divine Mother

Mother’s Day is this weekend in the US and other countries around the world. It has gone through quite a few evolutions to arrive at the completely secular version that we observe today, which is focused on celebrating  individual mothers.

What would eventually become Mother’s Day as we know it was originally Mothers Peace Day, created by Julia Ward Howe.  It was a day calling mothers to action in the pursuit of peace, bringing an end to war and what she saw as sons of mothers killing other sons of mothers.

In various ancient traditions there have been celebrations, not of individual women, but of the Feminine Divine or the Divine Mother. The Egyptians honored the goddess Isis, the Greeks honored Rhea, and early European Christians honored the Church. In Hinduism, this energy of Divine Mother is personified as Shakti.

Shakti represents creativity, fertility, change, and empowerment. Basically, the stuff of life.

This is my first Mother’s Day as a mother and I am looking forward to being spoiled by my spouse and son (and the years of macaroni art that lie undoubtedly in my future). There is absolutely nothing wrong with celebrating the individual mamas in our lives whom we appreciate. But I also wish that Mother’s Day still encompassed something bigger.

I love the idea of a day that is about mothers joining together to use their compassion, wisdom, and skill to work towards peace.  As mothers, we have the best possible reason to want to put an end to wars and aggression that make childless mothers out of so many. By collectively tapping into shakti we can use the energy to creatively effect change and produce conditions favorable to peace.

We use this energy to create and raise humans. Surely we can use it to guide those humans towards a more harmonious existence. The fact is that shakti exists in all things and in each of us. We all, irrespective of gender, have the energy of the Divine Mother within.

Perhaps this Mother’s Day we can honor ourselves and other mothers, not simply as individuals, but as the embodiment of the feminine Divine. Part of the greater whole that connects us all in peace and love.

Wishing all a divine and peaceful Mother’s Day!

Shanti, Shanti, Shanti

 

 

I’ve Got a Friend

The amazing and beautiful Elena Brower is a frequent contributor to online classes at YogaGlo. During a practice the other day, she said something I really needed to hear: Teach the world how to treat you by how you treat yourself. As a woman, a mother, a yogini, as a person, this advice was well-timed.

Confession: I’m not always very nice to myself. In fact, I would say that I am, more often than not, my worst critic and greatest adversary. Am I alone in this tendency? Hardly.

This behavior was ingrained well before I had a child, but having a child has provided so many more opportunities to try and fail at  (insert anything here), thus opening the door for a great deal of self-criticism if I allow it. Oh, and how I allow it. I’ve felt plenty of frustration with myself in my life, but the amount since becoming a mother has increased exponentially. This isn’t helped by the societal expectations thrust upon women as mothers, which are indeed impossible to live up to. But, that is a topic for another blog. No matter society’s influence or expectations, I have to take responsibility for my own feelings.

We have a new practice in our home. When we begin to experience frustration we STOP.  (Pretty sure I came across this via Deepak Chopra on Twitter during a late-night feeding … can’t be sure, though. Those late night feedings leave my memory a bit blurry)

Stop

Take three deep breaths

Observe what is happening

Proceed with compassion

We adopted this new practice for the little one, thinking it would be a good and simple way to teach him to deal with frustration. In the process we’ve discovered how incredibly beneficial it has been for us. Especially that last part: proceed with compassion. The first three – stopping, breathing, observing – I was already doing those, mostly with success.  But the final one, well, that one is really the most important and the most difficult, particularly when it comes to feeling compassion for ourselves.

This I know: if I want to be treated compassionately and if I want my son to treat himself and others with compassion,  I must model this behavior. First towards myself, then towards others.

I know this. I teach this. I struggle with this every day. And then I roll out my mat, plop down in front of my computer to do a class on YogaGlo, and Elena Bower says to teach others how to treat me by treating myself well. Sigh. Thank you, Universe, for letting me hear exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Way to drive the point home: Just be nice!

There has been plenty of opportunity to practice this as of late. The little one is going through the 10-month sleep regression  (thus the late night sleepy twitter reading) and my attempts to help him through it have been pure trial and error. You know, just like pretty much everything else with parenting. The difference with this, though, has been that instead of berating myself when something I”m trying isn’t working and thinking I am the worst mother in the world for making him suffer as I figure it out, I am proceeding with compassion. I remind myself:  I’m new at this. This is my first child. I’ve never done this before. Basically, I’m saying all the things that any kind, compassionate friend would say.

Imagine that, I’m being a friend … to me. If this seems obvious and simple that’s because it is. Yet, for me, this feels nothing short of radical.  And good. And right.

Blessings to you and yours, yogis and yoginis. I’ll be traveling to the Asia Yoga Conference in Hong Kong next month. Stay tuned for some (hopefully) inspired posts.

Operation Finding Peace

Hi Yogis and Yoginis!

A quick post to tell you about a great Give Back Yoga Foundation event, Operation Finding Peace, which aims to serve veterans through yoga.

Making yoga accessible and available to veterans has long been a passion of mine, and it warms my heart to see events like this happening. This particular event is taking place in Westport, CT, but anybody can participate by making a donation to help bring yoga to those who have given so much for all of us.

The Give Back Yoga Foundation is an organization that provides funding to yoga teachers, yoga studios, and other organizations who make yoga available to those who might otherwise not have an opportunity to experience its healing benefits. In fact, the Give Back Yoga Foundation provided some support to Samdhana-karana Yoga when we first opened our doors.

You can read more about the event and the foundation here.

More soon …

Namaste.

Downward Facing Peekaboo

April 15 was my one year anniversary of living in Korea.  Try as I might, I simply cannot believe we’ve been here that long. If it weren’t for the physical evidence of the littlest yogi being less than 8 weeks shy of his first birthday, I may be able to deny it altogether. I love living here and am very comfortable in many ways, but in other ways am still completely clueless. It seems I should know or understand more about this country. And what I wouldn’t give to be able to communicate more fully. If it weren’t for that darn baby! He takes up all my time! Thank goodness we have a few more years which will bring many more opportunities for learning.

Reflecting on this first year, I may not have gained all of the knowledge that I desire, but I have most certainly learned some very important lessons. Lessons in letting go, lessons in humility, lessons in adaptability, lessons in patience … honestly the list could go on and on.

One of the lessons I am most grateful for, and one that would have been learned no matter where I was this past year, is the importance of play. I consider myself a pretty easy-going person, but I’m not terribly playful. This past year has given me some time to a) accept that about myself, rather than despise it, which I have done in the past, b) figure out why I value playfulness and why I don’t seem to be playful, and c) give myself the space to explore playing. A little Yogi certainly helps with all of this.

Downward Facing Peekaboo

The Hindu deity Hanuman, depicted as a monkey, is described in Hindu scripture as mischievous and playful. Interestingly, his namesake posture, Hanumanasana (the splits) feels not at all playful. Not for this yogini anyway. More like torture. Or at least, that’s how I used to feel. I made a decision, when practicing Hanumanasana, that I would only go as far in the pose as I could while still being able to enjoy a good belly laugh. At first, this meant barely getting into the pose at all, as my smile would usually disappear as soon as I moved past a runner’s stretch. But, little by little, I’m getting deeper and deeper into the pose. My hips and hamstrings are releasing, and the laughter is coming much easier. I’m still a far way from the fullest expression of the pose, but the feelings I have associated with it have completely shifted. And more importantly, every time I begin to move into Hanumanasana, I have a good laugh and am reminded of the necessity of play.

My son is at the age where he mimics everything I do, so when I laugh, he laughs. When I am playful and joyous, he is playful and joyous. There are times to be serious, of course, but the realization that I have been taking myself a bit too seriously has been a profound one. One of the great things about Hanuman is that even with his playful, silly and mischievous nature, he is also incredibly powerful. He was reminded by Jambavantha:

 

You are powerful as the wind;

You are intelligent, illustrious and an inventor.

There is nothing in this world that is too difficult for you;

Whenever stuck, you are the one who can help.

Reading that, it is exactly the message I’d like to impart to my son and to myself.  I can’t teach it to him if I don’t believe it is true for me. Especially the part about knowing that when you are stuck, you have what is necessary within to get unstuck. Sometimes this means being serious, but as I’m learning, often times, getting unstuck is simply a matter of letting go and having a good belly laugh.

Namaste, yogis and yoginis!

Be 여기 Now

So, guess how you say here in Korea?

Yogi!

I’m not kidding. The word for here is yogi. Well, I should say, it is pronounced yogi, since the word is actually 여기. How great is that? Could there be any better coincidence for this yoga geek? I don’t think so!

If there were ever a yogi who needed a constant reminder to “be here now”, it’s this one. Motherhood has made my efforts to be present easier in some ways and more difficult in others. On the one hand, my son is the ultimate example of what it means to be present. He is always completely attuned to the moment and as we move through our day together, I very often find myself in the flow, completely present to our experiences. Other times I find myself going over the laundry list of things I have to get done when he takes a nap or the list of things I didn’t get done when I had free time the day before. While sometimes I catch myself doing this and am able to notice without judgement and bring myself back to the moment at hand, other times when I catch myself I immediately begin the negative self-talk. This inner dialogue is full of  shaming talk and accusations of failure. I convince myself in these moments that I am not only completely useless in terms of productivity but am also a terrible mother for worrying about these things when I should be in the moment, wholly and completely present to my son.

I’m working very hard on banning the word should from my self-talk. In that context, it is completely useless. Any energy I spend thinking about what I should be doing or thinking or feeling is energy wasted not actually doing, thinking or feeling. Essentially, not living Life. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, ” Life is only available in the present moment”.

So, being yogi now, is what I’m working on.

An easy moment to be present

How about you? What are your challenges to being present and how are you overcoming them?

 

Renewal

Spring greetings, yogis and yoginis!

Here in South Korea, spring has sprung. We went to the 50^th annual Jinhae Cherry Blossom Festival this past Friday and it was gorgeous.

These pillowy, ethereal blossoms are a stunning notification that springtime has arrived and a powerful reminder of the fleeting nature of all things. Just as quickly as the trees explode into blossom, the white and pink petals fall to the earth, the spectacular show over. At least until next year.

For many Asians, the cherry blossoms are the ultimate metaphor for Life. For Koreans, there is a mixture of joy and sorrow each springtime when the trees begin to blossom. For them the trees are not only a reminder of the beautiful and fleeting nature of all things, but also of a dark period in their nation’s history. Most of the cherry trees in Korea were planted by the Japanese during their occupation of the peninsula. For many years after the liberation from Japanese rule, the trees were cut down, seen as invaders. Recently, though, botanists have discovered that the cherry trees that were planted by the Japanese were a species that originated in Korea. They had been taken from Korea to Japan and then back again when the Japanese planted them as a means to claim land. This discovery has helped to heal the wound somewhat, though it is still a sore subject for many.

Despite all this, the Koreans still celebrate the blossoms. No matter how they got here, they are beautiful and powerful symbols of renewal and hope. The Koreans’ ability to sit with these very layered feelings and to celebrate nonetheless is something I deeply admire.

As we walked around Jinhae and Changwon, taking in the cherry blossoms, the forsythia, and the magnolias, there was a warm spring breeze, bright blue skies, and that wonderful smell of spring that carries with it the promise of longer days, warmer temperatures, and a world bursting into color.

For many of us this time of year coincides with a religious tradition as well. Whether that tradition be Christian, Jewish, Pagan, or otherwise,  all are centered on renewal, resurrection, hope, liberation and the new beginnings that spring from those things.

In our asana practice, each time we end our practice with savasana, we are meditating on these very same things. As we lie on our mat, dead to the world around us, we let go of all of the things we have gathered and are carrying with us. We let go of our expectations, our worries, and our identities. For those moments we simply exist as our essential, stripped-down self. We become like the cherry tree that has gone deep within during the winter months, gathering energy from the Earth, preparing for the rebirth and renewal that will happen come springtime. It is this shedding, this letting go, that readies us for the growth ahead.

As we slowly allow our consciousness to return, gently awakening from savasana, we make our way back to an upright position. We are resurrected from our dead state, and from this place of bareness, or newness, we can blossom.

We have risen. We have risen, indeed.

At least until the next time we step on our mats, and then the beautiful cycle starts all over again.

Wishing all of you a joyful spring and blessed holidays.

Yoga Therapy

Hi Yogis!

Please forgive my extended absence. The littlest yogi has become mobile and my days are filled with chasing and blissful play. I have a few posts in the works, but in the meantime I am posting a link to this great article on Yoga Therapy.

What’s it all about? Partly, “helping to shift the paradigm from one based on illness and practitioner-oriented care to a paradigm based on wellness and holistic self-care” as the article explains.

Read more here and enjoy!

More soon…

Namaste

I Change, therefore I Grieve

In 1991, the Grief Resource Foundation of Dallas, Texas found that, for them, a good working and practical definition of Grief was “the total response of the organism to the process of change”. Or, if you’re into equations, Change=Loss=Grief.

As a Yogini, I find this definition makes perfect sense to me. In our Yoga practice, particularly asana, we are doing the work of accepting and moving through change. We learn that the nature of all things is that they change. This lesson is reinforced as we move through our physical practice, changing our bodies breath to breath. Our bodies are the metaphor for everything in the external world – ever evolving.

We are all familiar with the emotions that can bubble up during a Yoga practice.  Before we get to the good stuff – the bliss – we often feel what can be described as discomfort, unease, frustration, perhaps anger, maybe even queasiness. Could these be grief? What if we saw our practice as a means to grieve the loss we are experiencing because of the changes that are occurring as a result of our dedicated practice? Notice, the definition of grief does not specify what kind of change. Just change. Positive or negative, all changes require us to let go of whatever was there before. Loss. We lose whatever our idea of reality was before we adopt a new reality.

So do we allow ourselves the space to grieve our losses, not only in our Yoga practice, but in our life? So often there is a negative connotation to the word grief but perhaps if we shift our perspective. If we apply some equanimity and begin to see grief as simply a part of change. It is good that we lose some things as we change. What if we had to hold on to everything we ever gathered, physically or otherwise? We’d be very weighed down!

In my own personal practice  I’ve been working with this – allowing myself space to grieve that which is changing. For me, it has been a very powerful exercise. It has helped me to be more focused, more aware of what I’m feeling, and ultimately, more compassionate. Grief and loss, like all emotions, are just part of the experience. By accepting and moving through them, rather than resisting, we enhance our entire experience of life.

(Change=Loss=Grief)+(practice +acceptance) = Compassion=Love=Oneness

A Divine Valentine’s Day to All

When your chest is free of your limiting ego,

Then you will see the ageless Beloved.

You can not see yourself without a mirror;

Look at the Beloved, He is the brightest mirror.

-Rumi

I love Rumi. Who doesn’t? I especially love the above excerpt from Thief of Sleep. For what is the purpose of  any love – romantic, brotherly, divine, or otherwise – if not to put up a mirror to our face and show us the True Self? When we see our true and divine nature and embrace it, we begin to radiate love to all beings.

I wish you all a divine Valentine’s Day, filled with love for yourself, your family, your friends, and perfect strangers alike. Namaste.