'The Bodhisattva Path' by Jack Kornfield
Lecture Series: The Roots of Buddhist Psychology Part 08 - The Bodhisattva Path by Jack Kornfield
'Loving-Kindness' by Jack Kornfield
Lecture Series: The Roots of Buddhist Psychology Part 09 - Loving Kindness by Jack Kornfield
'Intention' by Jack Kornfield
Lecture Series: The Roots of Buddhist Psychology Part 07 - Intention by Jack Kornfield
Navigating Heartbreak and Loss
I don’t write very often. I don’t write because everything has already been said, and at least one person has said it better than I ever could. But despite the lack of original ideas and original words, and despite the fact that this particular topic has already been cooked until soggy, I am writing you today, dear readers, to talk about heartbreak. But first, let’s talk about meditation.I have a daily practice. I wake up, go to my little puja table, set my timer, sit down and say my daily meditation prayer*. Usually, the dreams from the night before will be the first morsel of distraction after having a seat, followed by a laundry list of to-do's for the day, and finally, in the last minute or two of the session, I find that my mind is obedient, still and quiet. Some days feel more successful than others, but even one or two minutes of stillness helps to set the tone for my day. And although seeing “progress” on the day to day is less obvious, all the good teachers say to be patient and the results will come. I know that it is a practice, not a destination, so I persist.Recently, I experienced a loss. Like salt on a slug, we all know this shriveling, crushing, slow-death feeling, so there’s no need to elaborate. But since meditating with some regularity in the last few years, the practice seems to have prepared my heart, mind and body in an unexpected way-- in a way that brings a new clarity to this all-too-familiar experience of loss. When I sit down in the morning and the overwhelm of sadness hits me like a wave, I can see myself grasping for reassurance, attention, or something to fill the void. I can feel the hot bile of anger rising in my throat. I can feel the teakettle of tears under pressure behind my eyes. I can feel the bass drum of dread thumping in my chest. I can feel my tender heart contracting against the reality of the moment. I can see all the ways in which I am attached, and all the ways in which I am avoiding. But instead of following through with an habitual exit strategy or distraction tactic, I'm finding that I can sit with the pain a little more easily. I'm facing my loss head on and with a sense of objectivity. Whereas, in the past, the combination of the loss itself and a lack of practiced mindfulness had absolutely obliterated my ability to see past the pain of my own experience. I used to ignorantly think that I wouldn’t be able to endure yet another heartbreak. What a delusion! What is happening now, through meditation, is what feels like a fortification of my heart. I am able to yield into the pain, rather than resist the experience of grief. Shitty little fact: It takes practice to get good at grieving.When we suffer-- from loss, trauma, heartbreak, and deep grief, it can shatter our hearts. But rather than resist and shut down, maybe we can see the pain as an opportunity to expand the capacity of our hearts. Can we use our vulnerability as an opportunity to grow? Can we learn to feel what's beneath the pain of our own experience in a way that allows us to tap into the vastness of our compassion? Can we use our grief as a way to connect more deeply to ourselves, our family, our friends, our lovers, our enemies, and our global brothers and sisters, knowing that they too are suffering? When we are able to sit with our pain, we start to open up to the possibility of healing past wounds. We are actually sitting with the pain of a million heartbreaks, endless loss, and infinite grief. Meditation during a period of loss, heartache and pain can allow us to feel more directly into our humanity, if we are willing.There seems to be a widespread misconception that meditation is an escape route, or a spiritual bypass to feeling pain. It is not. It is a way to for us to honestly see, feel, and experience the ebb and flow of life in its’ unadulterated truth. If we have the courage to look deeply enough at our own suffering, it will show us a doorway to transform pain into potential. Fear into growth, vulnerability into strength, hatred into compassion, disdain into forgiveness and grief into love. The world is suffering. Can we be wise enough to use our own experience of pain as a catalyst for peace?
*Daily MeditationMay I be truly grateful for this day before me.May I use it well and be mindful in all my thoughts, words and actions.May I gracefully accept and learn from all that I encounter.May I be compassionate and release all judgment in the face of that which does not meet my ideals.May I be still and attentive enough to receive and recognize divine guidance.
The Dhammavidu Dhamma Talks
[playlist ids="1284,1283,1282"]Dhamma Talks by The Venerable Ajahn Tan Dhammavidu. Recorded 2/2014 at Suan Mohk Monastery, Chiaya, Thailand.
Meditation Instruction by Ajahn Tan Dhammavidu
[playlist ids="1269,1271,1272,1273"]Meditation Instruction with Buddhist Monk, Ajahn Tan Dhammavidu, recorded 2/2014 at Suan Mohk Monastery, in Chaiya, Thailand
Time for Renewal
“The beautiful Spring came; and when Nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also.”-Harriet Ann Jacobs
Spring is a time for renewal and regeneration. As we see the trees leaf out, the grass turn green and the wildflowers pop up we cant help but feel a little lighter of heart as we see the great potential of transformation. Life is one big transition from Birth to Death, and as bleak as that may seem, Nature reminds up that change and growth can be a beautiful thing.Just as a bear hibernates for the Winter, we may have also found ourselves to be more reflective, introspective and quiet, perhaps even isolated or reclusive. We may have felt stagnant or low at times. This is a natural way of being. In the process, we may have learned new things about ourselves, and are at a point of making change. The light exuberance of Spring can help inspire us to transform; to put into practice the wisdom we have accumulated in our darker days.Our bodies are also in need of support during this transition. Storing fats to keep us warm, perhaps being more sedentary has added to the feeling of sluggishness. We imbibe and indulge over the holidays, and as the weather cools and the days seem shorter, we typically aren’t as active as we might be in nicer weather. All of which is a natural cycle of behavior, and nothing to feel badly about.Spring is the perfect time to address our heath-- physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. There are lots of things we can do to support our bodies and minds at this time, including fasting, deep tissue/organ cleansing, massage, meditation, medicinal herbs and plant spirit medicine, skin brushing, steam/sauna/sweat lodge, salt/mineral baths and of course, yoga.Please join me to learn more about ways we can support ourselves as we emerge from our cocoons, our caves, our dark dens and enter into our brightest phase of the year. A short discussion will be followed by a long, warm, detoxifying yoga practice for all levels.Spring Healing Workshopby Cheri NealYoga Center of ChicoSunday 3/20/16Vernal Equinox11:30 am – 2:30 pm“For within your flesh, deep within the center of your being, is the undaunted, waiting, longing, all-knowing. Is the ready, able, perfect. Within you, waiting its turn to emerge, piece by piece, with the dawn of every former test of trial and blackness, is the next unfolding, the great unfurling of wings, the re-forged backbone of a true Child of Light.”― Jennifer DeLucy
The Next 10 Days
The Next 10 Days...10 days of silence.10 days of no eye contact.10 days of watching breath.10 days of 4am wake up.10 days of concrete bed.10 days of wooden pillow.10 days of mosquito shroud.10 days of breakfast gruel.10 days of hot spring baths.10 days of cold bucket showers.10 days of jungle symphony.10 days of no technology.10 days of candlelight.10 days of disconnect.10 days of reconnect.10 days of meditation.10 days of insight.10 day Vipassana Meditation retreat in Thailand.
Intuition
When you act from intuition, you are acting from a place of clear connection to self. When you are in clear connection to self, you are in absolute connection to the Source. Therefore when you act from intuition, you are fully supported by the Source in your actions. You cannot fail.When you act from the thinking/judging mind, you are more connected to the outcome of your actions. You are worried about what others may say or think. You are relying on external support, that you may or may not receive. You will always be wondering what the outcome would be if you had acted differently.Listen to your intuition. Act accordingly.
Meditation Mini-Retreat
Early Bird Discount~$45 before March 1st 2016Join me at the Yoga Center of Chico for 10 days of Meditation. We will be exploring different techniques and methods of meditation, including, but not limited to, seated (Zazen), guided, walking, and loving kindness (Metta) meditation. This mini-retreat is geared towards beginning meditators, meditators who need a little refresher course or anyone who would like to meditate in a group setting with some instruction.6-7 am April 1-10 at the Yoga Center of Chico.Register Here
The Big D
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything. Maintaining my blog has fallen down on the priority list as of late-- neatly wedged somewhere between getting a chihuahua and signing up for LinkedIn. The truth is, I’m just now clawing my way out of what has been a 16 month long depression. I imagine that it is the kind of depression that only privileged, affluent white people suffer from, but nonetheless, I’ve fallen ill. It’s the kind of depression that afflicts those of us who have enough time on our hands to go deep into the tar pits of our own psyche and compare our findings to those who are busily toiling away at life-- the perfect recipe for an existential crisis. It’s the kind of thing that happens when there is a high degree of internal dialogue, and there’s no better way to really turn up the volume on that noise than to bury yourself in country after country where you don’t speak the language and isolate yourself from people who speak your own. I’m writing this not as a means to receive sympathy from my droves of followers, but as a way to bring some light to a dark topic, a topic we tend to look away from.It couldn’t have been a more cliché place to become pseudo-suicidal. It was November in Paris, in a 4th story apartment, and I was chain smoking the last bits of my George Karelias from the previous month in Greece. Soaking the same tea bag, cup after cup, reading dumb old Hemingway, listening to 90’s Chicago house music, and watching a marathon of Modern Family. Ok, fine, that last part might not be so typical of a Parisian depression, but it was what I was doing when I thought, “What would it be like if I just weren’t here anymore?”.It took me all day to get showered and dressed, like I had been heavily sedated for weeks. Something about a Christmas episode set me off into a crying jag that prompted me to finally get up off the couch and into the bathroom. After taking off the 3 full day worn saggy pajamas, I looked at myself in the mirror, thoroughly disgusted with my own face, my own body and my own presence. I remember saying “Ugh. You again?”. I looked around in a half curious, not at all determined way for something sharp or something poisonous. I realized that I would have to go out of my way to off myself and I was too unmotivated to even do that. I didn’t actually want to make a bloody mess of myself, I just didn’t feel like existing anymore.Now, when I look back on it, I realize I would have had to been way more convicted and determined than I actually was if I really wanted to die in that apartment. I just don’t have the kind of resolve it takes to commit suicide. It’s the kind of thing that takes just that-- commitment. For those of you that know me, you know that lately commitment isn’t my strongest suit.I pulled myself together enough to call a friend, a friend who knows my propensity for darkness, and had a chat with him. I told him that I wasn’t getting out of bed until noon or later, had to force myself to get dressed and out of the house just to choke down a pain au chocolat as my daily bread. He confirmed my self-diagnosis saying, “Yep, that’s depression.”. I went on for some time talking about how everything is completely meaningless: “What’s the point? Is this really it? I’m not satisfied!” And he said that maybe the answer lies in actually making a commitment to something. “Something besides suicide, Cheri.”I knew this was more than just my usual existential crisis when my behavior started to affect other people. I went home for Thanksgiving and I noticed that my friends and family were thoroughly turned off by my sadness. It’s not a good look for me apparently, and it makes people very uncomfortable. Instead of tolerating my doom and gloom with a light heart, there was a now lot of avoidance, a lot of changing the subject and superficial, conversational distraction tactics. I was being treated with kid gloves, and I could tell they were just waiting on the edge of their seats for what I was going to say or do next. I noticed that denial is very prevalent when it comes to the Big D. Nobody asked me what was going on inside of me, because nobody really wants to see what’s down there in the dumps. Seeing a loved one grapple with the demon of their internal tar pits, reminds us that we, too, have a tar pit of our own to reckon with.Having said that, I think the majority of us would be kidding ourselves if we said we had never thought about escaping the endless churning of a dissatisfied heart. Or maybe, like me, fantasized about what it would be like to just not exist. Sadness, pain, grief, loneliness, purposelessness, and suffering are a part of the human experience-- one that we have very little practical skill in dealing with. We have more skill in shrouding the dark and nasty bits with rays of contrived positivity. We get spooked by anyone who openly reveals a struggle with the basic day to day existence. For me, the day to day sadness had become a pattern, the pattern became a habit and the habit of being depressed became calcified and imbedded into my personality.Before this all gets too awkward, I’ll end by saying that I realized that just because I am willing to metaphorically jump into at the bubbling, oozing black, does not mean everyone around me is ready to do the same. The more maudlin and didactic side of me is tempted to advise you to go on with your happy sunshine lives and when you are ready to meet me in the dark, I'll be here, in my pajamas, comfortable in the sticky mess. But, as luck would have it, I'm on the upswing, climbing out of the chasm one bone at a time. I’m almost there- I just need a few more footholds; commitment, service, and gratitude.
Depression and suicide are serious issues, folks. Seek help.
What to Pack
Going on a journey and don't want to pack too much? Here's a video explaining what to pack when space, weight and varying climates are an issue. Bon Voyage!
The Guru Myth
Gurunoun-(in Hinduism and Buddhism) a spiritual teacher, especially one who imparts initiation.-an influential teacher or popular expert.If you're reading this blog on my website, you have no doubt seen the "Globetrotting Guru" alliteration, which is meant to be a clever description of what I have been up to. It's not my favorite title, but it's catchy. I'm highly suspicious of anyone who claims to be a guru, and if you too have had an unpleasant emotional response to reading this headline, I commend you. Clearly, you're a thinker.The first definition "a spiritual teacher, especially one who imparts initiation" sounds a touch creepy to me. Just the word initiation, meaning "the action of admitting someone into a secret or obscure society or group, typically with a ritual", could make one think of some character in a hooded robe and perhaps a bizarre blood-letting scenario involving candles and baby animals. Of course, it goes without saying that if someone is calling themselves a guru, it doesn't necessarily mean that they are involved in any snake-oil, waco-level cult activity, this imagery is just to illustrate a point. But even in a more innocuous sense, the first definition of guru brings to mind an outdated dogmatic relationship where two parties are mutually participating in the delusion that one of them has obtained some secret to life, and the other is existing behind a veil of ignorance and illusion. One is an act of exploitation, the other is an act of acquiescence.The second one is probably a more appropriate definition for how the majority of people are using the word guru today. And in that sense, I have had many teachers that I would consider to be gurus. I have been strongly influenced and inspired by my instructors in the past, to the point that I would idolize them, worship them, and even fall in love with them. If you've ever had the experience of hearing the feelings and ideas that have been rattling around inside your heart come to life effortlessly and eloquently from a guru's lips, then you know how incredible that can be, and what a feeling of awe and connection you may start to have for that person. I have had several teachers and mentors in my life that I would sit, obediently and awe-struck in front of, basking in their wisdom. I would also secretly hope that they would notice what a good student I was, I would want them to see that I really understood what they were saying, and I would wish that I could gain some sort of recognition from my beloved guru. I wanted acknowledgment from the ones that I idolized that I was indeed something special. What we sometimes fail to recognize is that the reason why some things resonate so clearly in our hearts, although expressed by our gurus in a way that perhaps seems larger than ourselves, is because these gems of wisdom have actually been within us all the time.We humans have the tendency to get wrapped up in the longing for approval by the ones that we respect or even idolize. Our tendency is to become attached to that with which we connect. And that attachment is what perpetuates the illusion that we are somehow not capable of the same greatness as our idols. The attachment is what holds us in our position as students, disciples, followers. Conversely, it is just as easy (and dangerous) to become accustomed to being in the Guru's role. When you know that people are listening intently to what you say, respecting you, loving and idolizing you, you are apt to become inflated and afflicted with the same illusion that may have brought your students to your very feet. They haven't yet discovered that you are just as trapped in the illusion as anyone else... but it's only a matter of time before Dorothy and the gang discover what's behind the curtain.Not all gurus are trying to "trick" their disciples, in fact very few are. Most are genuinely interested in being at service to their students and would balk at being described as a Guru. It has been said that the aim of a good instructor is for their students to outgrow them and in a sense, to surpass them. At a certain point, it seems inevitable that the student become disillusioned by their teacher. This sort of detachment has happened for me not only as a student but also as an instructor. But, in my opinion, it is a necessary stage of advancement and evolution for both parties, but one that can be very disappointing and scary for anyone participating in the student/teacher, disciple/guru relationship. The level of disappointment is proportional to the degree of attachment within the relationship. Since the titles of teacher/student or guru/disciple define one another, once the disillusionment occurs, the student is then left responsible for his/her own advancement, and the teacher can be left questioning his/her own path.Even though we may be inspired by our teachers, mentors, elders, and gurus, it may benefit us to be aware of how much authority we give these people in our lives. Having said that, perhaps it's important to enter into these relationships not so much with a sense of skepticism or suspicion, but with an attitude of understanding that our gurus are human too, so that when the inevitable man behind the curtain is revealed, we can shake his hand, offer our deepest graditude, and move confidently forward in the next phase of our journey.
Me and my Guru, Duncan Trussell
Lost and Found
The only place I ever got really lost while I was traveling abroad, was in Montpellier, France. It was November 1st, known as La Toussaint, or All Saints' Day and I would be leaving that morning for Barcelona. Knowing that it was a holiday, and that I hadn't booked a ticket yet, it was crucial that I leave for the station early that morning and get on the first train out, which was at 6:00am. That morning, I woke up late, wearing the same clothes that I had been wearing for the last 36 hours, hoisted the 15 kg backpack onto my shoulders, and jumped out the door. I was half asleep, half hung-over, and only half sure of where I was going. The train station was said to be about a ten minute walk from the flat and I recalled vaguely where it might be. I started walking in the direction that I thought it was, and remembered someone telling me about a "shortcut", which was to walk along the tramway. So that's what I did. Ten minutes turned into twenty, twenty into thirty, and so on. I felt like someone was adding iron weights to my backpack with every unfamiliar pass. Just shy of 6am, I had been walking for about 45 minutes and I was exhausted. I knew that I was nowhere close to the station and that I was not going to make that train. There were no people or cars or open shops anywhere in sight, just the harsh and hazy morning sun beginning to penetrate my dried and bleary eyes. I was utterly lost. I looked around, took off my pack in an act of indignant abandon, sat down next to a trash can and pondered through my tears, "What now?!".I feel lost like that again, being back in the States-- directionless and dejected on the empty streets. Nobody is pointing me in any particular direction, but I'm still carrying my heavy backpack weighted down by the memories and experiences of my past, and I'm pretty sure I missed my train somewhere way back there. I'm looking for my way, but I can't seem to see beyond the shadow of my own face. I think what I am experiencing now is the unavoidable period of let-down that comes after any mind-blowing experience; reality comes screeching in like a bird being captured and crammed back into a cage. I'm left wondering what happened to my direction, my momentum, my inspiration? The dullness begins to set in.As a longtime yoga practitioner and experienced instructor, I am well aware that there is an inevitable dullness that can come from doing the same thing over and over again. That is the nature of yoga- to repeat and repeat until the movement becomes effortless, and the effort is then turned inward towards the breath and eventually towards the mind. Unfortunately, one hindrance of repetition is that one is apt to fall victim to boredom. In the times that I see my students growing listless with the glaze of apathy towards yet another Virabhadrasana, having done it over a thousand times in the lifetime of their practice, I remind them to SOMEHOW find a sense of newness to each pose, to find a freshness in the practice-- which is much easier said than done! I find myself now chewing through the last remnants of an allegorical stale doughnut, desperately trying not to be overcome by that same sticky glaze I see creeping into the eyes of my students from time to time. I'm finding it difficult to see the novelty in each moment, especially when my eyes feel like they've been glued shut by the viscous monotony of familiarity. After all, familiarity breeds contempt, right? After this many years as a yogi, I should have the tools to pull myself out of the muck.I started waking up at 5:30am and for the first time in my life, I have taken up a consistent, if not daily, meditation practice. It's working, in so far as it's getting me up in the morning with something to focus on besides that hangnail that's been bothering me, or making elaborately frivolous to-do lists with things on it like "buy matches", "open mail" and "drink water". But instead of meditating on cultivating contentment and appreciation for my current set of circumstances (like any good yogi or meditator would do), and trying to find a sense of liveliness within the deep predictability of my life in Chico , I instead find myself hatching an escape plan. This is in itself a destructive force, because I know that any time I allow my mind to move hastily into planning, it just takes me further and further away from the present moment. It is yet another distraction from the awkward and uncomfortable reality of just sitting still. Our minds are very clever and will create any reason at all to jump up and run away. For me, practicing simply sitting through the discomfort and watching my mind making plans to "escape" has given me the opportunity to observe my desire to be somewhere else. My meditation practice has been helpful in allowing me to see that sitting still might actually be the most valuable and necessary thing for me to do right now, in order to see my path and my direction more clearly.I've come to terms with my discontentment. Rather than to resign myself to the doldrums, I've used it to create a feedback loop to help me see what in my life is working and what isn't, what inspires me and what doesn't, what is in balance and what is out of balance. The feeling of being lost, uninspired, and directionless, in the past, has been precisely what propelled me into the next phase of my life, and that unsettled feeling in my heart is a familiar indication that there are some major shifts taking place inside of me. It's uncomfortable, yes, and at times exhausting, but I'm certainly not running away from it this time. What good would that do anyway when I don't even know where I am or where I am going? So, I've decided that for now, I'll simply sit down, unload some baggage, wait for my eyes to clear up, and then get back on that train when it arrives.
"Familiarity breeds contempt, while rarity wins admiration."-Apuleius
The Big Questions
"How's it going? What's your name? WHAT DO YOU DO?"As you might imagine, I've had different versions of this conversation probably a hundred times since I've been traveling. It's your run of the mill getting-to-know-you quiz, with the intention of pegging a person down in but a few short words. I have to admit, I've probably been guilty of springing this anxiety inducing, judgement trap on people at times, in lieu of having something thoughtful to say. You might be thinking, "Well, it's an innocent enough question. What's the big deal?" In my opinion, the big deal is that it is a question we have been CONDITIONED to ask so that we can silently and most times, unconsciously, make assumptions and snap judgements about ones' beliefs, income, social status, morals and personal character just to name a few.Normally, I would answer this question by saying that I am a Yoga Instructor and a Massage Therapist. Which is true, but I find that what comes to most peoples' minds with this response is that I must be a pious hippy vegetarian or something even more perverted. This assumption is a matter of lack of eduction, but still, it's an assumption that is only half true (I'll let you guess the part that is true).As time goes by and I am getting further away from my life in the states, both in proximity and otherwise, I am feeling more and more challenged and perplexed by this question. It has literally been months since I taught a yoga class and even longer since I gave a massage. To answer in my usual way is starting to feel disingenuous. As a person who values authenticity in my life and relationships, this seemingly innocuous conversation starter is begging an even deeper question: Who AM I when the roles that I've clung to stop defining me?So, I've stopped answering in my usual way and am thinking more about who I am and what I am doing in this present moment. Right now, I'm a traveler. Right now I'm a hedonistic book store keeper with a penchant for raki fueled philosophical discussion and a gnarly smoking habit.*Many of us cling to the roles we have been given, either self-imposed or otherwise, because we are afraid that without them, we might just disappear. But you won't disappear. You will just continue being you. You might even slip in to a more authentic version of yourself when you choose to let go of what may have defined you in the past.It's so easy to say and do the things we have always done out of habit. Or even worse, because it's what our "character" would do. Clinging to a character is an especially easy way to avoid the big questions, like- Who am I? What am I doing? But I encourage you to take the time this week to ponder if the roles in your life still fit, still feel comfortable, and still look good on you. You don't have to throw the old ones out completely, but it might be time to trade in for something that fits who you are in this moment. By letting go of outdated roles, we make room for a broader definition of who we really are. A definition that supports our incredible complexities so that we can maintain our authenticity while we grow and evolve.*Living in Greece will do such things to a person.
Ithaca
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,pray that the road is long,full of adventure, full of knowledge.The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,the angry Poseidon-- do not fear them:You will never find such as these on your path,if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fineemotion touches your spirit and your body.The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,The fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,if you do not carry them within your soul,if your soul does not set them up before you.Pray that the road is long.That the summer mornings are many, when,with such pleasure, with such joyyou will enter ports seen for the first time;stop at Phoenician markets and purchase fine merchandise,mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,and sensual perfumes of all kinds,as many sensual perfumes as you can;visit many Egyptian cities,to learn and learn from scholars.Always keep Ithaca in your mind.To arrive there is your ultimate goal.But do not hurry the voyage at all.It is better to let it last for many years;and anchor at the island when you are old,rich with all you have gained on the way,not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.Without her you would have never set out on the road.She has nothing more to give you.And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.Wise as you have become, with so much experience,you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)Love from Greece!
Traveling Alone
I have been traveling by myself in Europe for exactly 8 weeks now. If I had to describe my experience in one word, I couldn't. It's been all at once exhilarating, empowering, challenging and exhausting. I haven't written in a while for a few reasons; one being that I am typing on a tiny iPhone, but moreover, I've had a million things to say and not a clue where to begin. So I guess I'll start at the obvious point; Yoga.My yoga practice has taken on a different form lately. I'm off the mat for longer than I have been in years. My yoga now is a matter of putting into practice all of the fundamentals of grounding, centering, internal focus, presence, breath work and equanimity in order to support myself in this mind-bending, heart-melting emotional stew that I've thrown myself into. As I bounce from one place to the next, I seek to find stability. With conditions constantly changing, I seek to find the center of stillness within me. Within the comfortable din of a language that I don't understand, I draw my attention inward to better understand myself. In the moments of fatigue, frustration, and overwhelming emotion, I find myself taking deeper breaths. I am using the tools of yoga to create contentment in my life now, which is a far cry from where I was 2 or even 4 months ago.It hasn't been easy in a lot of ways. I feel odd writing this, as if I should censor myself and instead paint for you a picture of quaint cobblestone alleys lined with flower merchants and cafés, magical markets stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, heaps of olives and dates and every variety of cheese that you can imagine. The smell of sautéed garlic, lots of local fish and meat and wine found among centuries old architecture, with views of the Mediterranean just around the next corner. And maybe these are the kinds of things you want to hear, and I certainly don't blame you, it is a beautiful picture. But even as I experience the beauty of all of these things, I am simultaneously experiencing a deep loneliness, sadness, and confusion.I considered keeping this from you, perhaps as an egoic attempt to preserve the likely unrealistic picture you may have in your head about me and my journey, but I have made a commitment to the truth. I've made a commitment to be truthful in my own life, to seek the truth in others, and as a teacher, I've made the commitment to deliver truth to my students. And the truth is that I'm struggling. I'm struggling with my shyness and my insecurities, my inabilities, my ego. Sometimes all I can do is sit down and cry. I write this not as a sob story designed to gain sympathy, but to remind myself that it's ok to feel grief and frustration and pain and tiredness. And it's ok for you to see me in these perhaps unsavory states, because they are all on the psychic and emotional spectrum of a whole human being. In this truth, I remember that we are all things at all times, and those of you who really know me, know that I embody this truth.I've had more opportunity now than I ever have had before to really be with these aspects of who I am. But I see them, and I get to know them and I try to be kind to myself about them. I get lost in the streets and explore the markets by myself. I make jokes to myself about myself. I have only myself to rely on, to blame, to be with. But even in the most frustrating, exhausting and lonesome moments, I know that I'm not alone in my struggle. Because even if we are surrounded by friends and family and familiarity, we are all just trying to navigate the intricate, sometimes unintelligible maps of our own hearts and minds. And that, my friends, is not an easy journey to take.
Adho Muhka Svanasana (downward facing dog)
Here's a classic pose we all should know and love, Adho Muhka Svanasana, or Downward Facing Dog. This pose is technically an inversion which make it incredibly calming to the nervous system, but also is a strength building pose, especially when held for longer periods of time. Downward Facing Dog is like a homecoming to the seasoned practitioner, promoting a quiet mind and offering the body a chance to recover and rest in between other challenging postures or sequences. For the beginner, it brings us into awareness of our natural strength and ability, as well as shows our bodies how to cultivate more internal support, length and space within the body.Begin by coming onto the hands and knees. Spread the fingers as wide as possible, creating even space between all of the fingers. Take a deep breath in and with an exhale, lift the knees from the floor and reach the pelvis as high as possible. As you press evenly into the hands, feel the arms and the sides of the body lengthen. As you lift higher through the hips, allow the heels to reach toward the floor, elongating the backs of the legs. Do your best not to collapse in the chest or shoulders, and draw slightly in right below the navel. Breathe deeply and evenly for 3 to 5 rounds, with each breath, allowing the mind to soften.