Breathe. Extend. Soften. Three words that have become my yoga practice mantra of late.
Much of yoga practice is about finding length in the body. Extending the spine to decompress it and make more room for movement. Increasing range of motion - becoming more 'flexible,' usually means training muscles to lengthen.
Every movement requires muscle engagement - some degree of effort - and it's nearly certain that the effort will be more than it needs to be. Sometimes a lot more, sometimes just a little, but always, there is too much effort. Additionally, as I explore the limits of my movement, there's always one place - one muscle, or a layer of fascia - that has the most sensation.
Breath, of course, is central to yoga practice as a guide to the right amount of effort and as a point of awareness. Breath, by which I mean all the muscular actions of the body involved in breathing, is also used to help move the body into the shapes of yoga. For instance, exhaling for a forward bend, or inhaling for a backbend - the movement of the breath supports the shape we are moving into. We can also use breathing to initiate and contain movement - begin the breath, then move, then finish the breath. Because the breath operates from our center, our core, this practice helps all movement to begin in the center and extend outward.
When I put this all together, I initiate movement with the breath, and feel the movement as an extension of the breath. With the energy of movement, I extend - spine, muscles, fascia. Then I soften - first finding release for that part of me that is working harder than all the rest - and then softening overall effort in an attempt to find that point where there is no extra effort, no unneeded tension, and even a challenging pose can feel effortless.
Breath, extend, soften. Repeat, and repeat, and repeat.
Friday, January 29, 2016
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Winter Walks
The past couple of days I've had some enjoyable winter walks. Our thick blanket of snow is settling, day by day, compacting, growing denser. Too deep to comfortably walk through, it has stayed undisturbed for the most part, with cars and people confined to the plowed, shoveled and snow-blown paths.
Temperatures have dropped into the teens at night and risen well above freezing during the day. Even the cold mornings have been nice to be out in, because the wind has been calm. Tonight I walked home from the Metro station about 8 pm. I was dressed to be warm, and the night was quiet and light from the reflecting snow and clouds.
The first few cold spells of winter always seem harsh, but then I grow to enjoy the fresh, brisk air on my skin, the crunch of ice and squeak of cold snow under my feet, the patterns of light and shadow on the smooth white snow.
Temperatures have dropped into the teens at night and risen well above freezing during the day. Even the cold mornings have been nice to be out in, because the wind has been calm. Tonight I walked home from the Metro station about 8 pm. I was dressed to be warm, and the night was quiet and light from the reflecting snow and clouds.
The first few cold spells of winter always seem harsh, but then I grow to enjoy the fresh, brisk air on my skin, the crunch of ice and squeak of cold snow under my feet, the patterns of light and shadow on the smooth white snow.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Breath
Breath, and breathing. Inseparable from our life itself.
I ended my yoga class tonight with a reminder that awareness of breath is the core practice of yoga. This is so because breath is always with us - in the present moment there is always breath. We have only to pay attention to breath and it brings the mind into the present with it. Breath is the most tangible expression of our vitality, our life force - it is with us from the moment we are born until the moment we die.
And so, no matter where we are or what we are doing, we always have access to this practice - awareness of breath - that can bring our mind to centered stillness and allow the state of yoga to arise. For yoga is not something we can do. Yoga is a condition of deep immersion and intimacy with our present experience, that comes, like a gift, in the right conditions.
We can practice the postures of yoga, which give us the direct, concrete experience of the body as a point of focus for our mind, and the breathing practices called pranayama, which similarly help us focus more completely and deeply on our breath. When these practices bring the mind into calm clarity, we experience yoga.
I ended my yoga class tonight with a reminder that awareness of breath is the core practice of yoga. This is so because breath is always with us - in the present moment there is always breath. We have only to pay attention to breath and it brings the mind into the present with it. Breath is the most tangible expression of our vitality, our life force - it is with us from the moment we are born until the moment we die.
And so, no matter where we are or what we are doing, we always have access to this practice - awareness of breath - that can bring our mind to centered stillness and allow the state of yoga to arise. For yoga is not something we can do. Yoga is a condition of deep immersion and intimacy with our present experience, that comes, like a gift, in the right conditions.
We can practice the postures of yoga, which give us the direct, concrete experience of the body as a point of focus for our mind, and the breathing practices called pranayama, which similarly help us focus more completely and deeply on our breath. When these practices bring the mind into calm clarity, we experience yoga.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Writing the Mind
When I get ideas that seem worth keeping, I write them down. When I read, I take notes on what seems most important and interesting. Sometimes, I just like a particular way of stating an idea, that seems especially clear, or clever. I write that down, too.
I have lots of papers around with things written on them. I try to organize them, to group them by topic. When I have more time, as I did with the recent storm, I will go through the papers. Often I've written a similar idea more than once. I'll rewrite the ideas, consolidate them in a better organized way, and then throw away the original notes.
Sometimes I do this on the computer, but I most like this process of rewriting when I do it by hand. I watch the words flow off the tip of the pen onto paper - writing the idea from the mind, and immediately taking it back into mind.
Writing seems to be a primary way that I process information and ideas - capturing them, then refining them, rewriting until the organization and expression seem just right.
I have lots of papers around with things written on them. I try to organize them, to group them by topic. When I have more time, as I did with the recent storm, I will go through the papers. Often I've written a similar idea more than once. I'll rewrite the ideas, consolidate them in a better organized way, and then throw away the original notes.
Sometimes I do this on the computer, but I most like this process of rewriting when I do it by hand. I watch the words flow off the tip of the pen onto paper - writing the idea from the mind, and immediately taking it back into mind.
Writing seems to be a primary way that I process information and ideas - capturing them, then refining them, rewriting until the organization and expression seem just right.
Monday, January 25, 2016
Sending Snacking Packing!
I snack too much. While my most common snacks aren't processed food, they're calories I don't need. One good snack leads to another, as I condition myself to snack at the first sign of hunger.
This weekend, being stuck at home due to the big snowfall, and things to snack on readily at hand, I decided to get serious about breaking the snack habit.
The best way to stop a habit, I think, is to replace it with something else. There's a trigger - in this case a little hunger - that leads to reaching for a snack. The trigger will still be there, for a while at least, but I can replace my response to it with something better. I know a number of simple posture alignment things that take just a few seconds to do, and a nice conscious breath in and out, so when I feel the snacking urge, I stop and give myself a little alignment.
There's a little willpower needed to stick with the choice not to snack, but the most important thing is to disrupt the automatic habit, that has the snack in hand (or mouth) before I'm thinking about it.
This weekend, being stuck at home due to the big snowfall, and things to snack on readily at hand, I decided to get serious about breaking the snack habit.
The best way to stop a habit, I think, is to replace it with something else. There's a trigger - in this case a little hunger - that leads to reaching for a snack. The trigger will still be there, for a while at least, but I can replace my response to it with something better. I know a number of simple posture alignment things that take just a few seconds to do, and a nice conscious breath in and out, so when I feel the snacking urge, I stop and give myself a little alignment.
There's a little willpower needed to stick with the choice not to snack, but the most important thing is to disrupt the automatic habit, that has the snack in hand (or mouth) before I'm thinking about it.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
After the Storm
Sunday morning brought sunshine and clear skies. Four more inches of show remained to be shoveled, but that went quickly. I'm very pleased with how my body has responded to the work. I remember the aches that accompanied our last really big snowfall in 2010. That was a year and a half before I started yoga.
I should be older and creakier now, but while I'm six years older, I'm in much better shape. My body has learned how to twist, my core is strong and more importantly, well integrated with the rest of me. My shoulders are stronger and have more range of motion. I lifted and threw a lot of snow, but I did it like I would practice yoga - coordinating movement with breath - and being conscious of my whole body participating in the movement, from the bottoms of my feet up through my arms on the snow shovel.
I feel the effects just a little up in my upper back and neck - trapezius is stiff from all the lifting. But I have no discomfort in my low back, which is usually the place that repetitive lifting and twisting shows up for me.
I'll have some more shoveling to do. Tomorrow or the next day when they plow the street, I'm sure they'll leave a big berm blocking the driveway. That will be heavy, dense, maybe even a bit icy. It should be a good workout.
This afternoon I shoveled a path out into the street, where there was a bit of a path from cross country skiers, walkers and sledders. I walked down the street and into the park. It was not easy going - the snow is deep and, even walking in the footsteps of others, my boots would sink in. One stretch in the park had only a ski trail, so I was post-holing the original footprints for a while. The park was pretty with all the snow in the afternoon light. I walked down by the creek and took a picture of the spot where I like to sit - just a white mound today. The creek was mostly frozen over, with one open channel in the most active current.
We won't be able to get out until they plow the street - perhaps Monday, more likely Tuesday.
I should be older and creakier now, but while I'm six years older, I'm in much better shape. My body has learned how to twist, my core is strong and more importantly, well integrated with the rest of me. My shoulders are stronger and have more range of motion. I lifted and threw a lot of snow, but I did it like I would practice yoga - coordinating movement with breath - and being conscious of my whole body participating in the movement, from the bottoms of my feet up through my arms on the snow shovel.
I feel the effects just a little up in my upper back and neck - trapezius is stiff from all the lifting. But I have no discomfort in my low back, which is usually the place that repetitive lifting and twisting shows up for me.
I'll have some more shoveling to do. Tomorrow or the next day when they plow the street, I'm sure they'll leave a big berm blocking the driveway. That will be heavy, dense, maybe even a bit icy. It should be a good workout.
This afternoon I shoveled a path out into the street, where there was a bit of a path from cross country skiers, walkers and sledders. I walked down the street and into the park. It was not easy going - the snow is deep and, even walking in the footsteps of others, my boots would sink in. One stretch in the park had only a ski trail, so I was post-holing the original footprints for a while. The park was pretty with all the snow in the afternoon light. I walked down by the creek and took a picture of the spot where I like to sit - just a white mound today. The creek was mostly frozen over, with one open channel in the most active current.
We won't be able to get out until they plow the street - perhaps Monday, more likely Tuesday.
Saturday, January 23, 2016
Denned Up
Friday night didn't bring high winds, but it did bring steady snow. When I ventured out to shovel the driveway in the morning there was over 16 inches down, and it was still snowing. The flakes had been small, fine-grained, so it wasn't the most difficult to shovel, but not the lightest either. I threw all the snow over to the west side of the drive so that the lawn on the east side, most in front of the house, would be undisturbed and beautiful.
Mid-afternoon, I went out again, and shoveled off another 3 inches. A few gusts of wind blew through, but we've missed the blizzardy conditions that were forecast, at least so far. The snow should be finished by the morning, and I can shovel one last time and get a final tally. So far it looks like we'll have a few inches less than the big February storm in 2010, when we had over two feet.
It has been very quiet. Snow absorbs sound, and there's little if any traffic moving. We had one truck go up the street, and then down, all day. A few people ventured out to walk, and one family was out trying to sled down the street, but the snow was too deep for good sledding, and they trekked back down to their house.
Other than the two trips out to shovel the drive, I stayed denned up inside the warm house.
Mid-afternoon, I went out again, and shoveled off another 3 inches. A few gusts of wind blew through, but we've missed the blizzardy conditions that were forecast, at least so far. The snow should be finished by the morning, and I can shovel one last time and get a final tally. So far it looks like we'll have a few inches less than the big February storm in 2010, when we had over two feet.
It has been very quiet. Snow absorbs sound, and there's little if any traffic moving. We had one truck go up the street, and then down, all day. A few people ventured out to walk, and one family was out trying to sled down the street, but the snow was too deep for good sledding, and they trekked back down to their house.
Other than the two trips out to shovel the drive, I stayed denned up inside the warm house.
Friday, January 22, 2016
Silent Snowfall
I walked to downtown Silver Spring in early afternoon, with light snow starting to fall. There were a lot of people out, walking dogs, children playing, neighbors chatting. The streets were busy with people going home from work, or out for some late storm preparation shopping. I stopped at the bank, then walked to Chipotle to pick up a couple of burritos for our evening meal.
I walked a different way home, and stopped for a few minutes in a wooded area to watch the snow falling in the forest. My toes got a little cold. The flakes were small and the ground just beginning to turn white.
Light but steady snow continued all afternoon, slowly piling up. Much heavier snow, and high winds, are expected later tonight and into Saturday, but for now, it has just been a pleasant, silent, snowfall.
I walked a different way home, and stopped for a few minutes in a wooded area to watch the snow falling in the forest. My toes got a little cold. The flakes were small and the ground just beginning to turn white.
Light but steady snow continued all afternoon, slowly piling up. Much heavier snow, and high winds, are expected later tonight and into Saturday, but for now, it has just been a pleasant, silent, snowfall.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Big Storm Coming
There's a big storm coming. We'll see. Sometimes the weather gets over-promised and under-delivers. But whatever happens in terms of precipitation, it's certain we'll be holed up for the weekend, because businesses and even the entire DC area public transit system have announced they're shutting down for the entire weekend - even though the first flake of snow is 24 hours away. We'll be fine unless the expected high winds knock the power out. Then it will be hard to keep the house warm.
We've managed to make ourselves so comfortable - with heating, air conditioning, and personal transport devices that have heating and air conditioning too - that we can go a long time not feeling much effect from the vagaries of nature. But now and then nature roars back to show who is really boss and how easy it is to mix up a potion of cool air, lots of moisture, and steep pressure gradient, that, even without any eye of newt, is far more than we can handle.
We've managed to make ourselves so comfortable - with heating, air conditioning, and personal transport devices that have heating and air conditioning too - that we can go a long time not feeling much effect from the vagaries of nature. But now and then nature roars back to show who is really boss and how easy it is to mix up a potion of cool air, lots of moisture, and steep pressure gradient, that, even without any eye of newt, is far more than we can handle.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Traffic Mind
Once a week I trek about 13 miles north to teach a 6 pm yoga class. That means I'm moving with the early part of the evening rush hour. The route has several spots where, if traffic is bad, I could get stuck with no way to get to an alternate route. Because of that, I always check the traffic before I start, as one of the alternate routes requires a very early decision.
Tonight I knew the main route was a no-go, even before I got to the car. Traffic in downtown Silver Spring was backing up onto side roads like I'd never seen. The main problem, if Google maps was right, was within the first mile, so I headed east to a road that would take me around. That was backed up too, so I went further east to the next route. Also heavy, but I was out of options, so I took it and began following Waze instructions. Everywhere I went traffic was heavy, and the app rerouted me several times. Eventually I realized it was backtracking me a couple of miles to the west, and finally, after almost half an hour, I reached the beltway, about a mile from where I first started. From there traffic was heavy but moving well, and I made it to the studio with some time to spare.
An hour and a half later, the trip home was even more adventuresome. It had begun to snow, and the untreated roads iced up. They were slicker than I've seen in a long long time. Traffic was slowed by numerous accidents, and even touching the brakes lightly would set off the anti-lock mechanism. There are a couple of long hills on the route - not super steep - but steady gradients climbing up out of stream valleys. On one, where I had to stop right at the bottom, I was barely able to get the car moving again up hill. At one point Waze routed me off the main road to go around an accident. I'm not sure it was worth it, as the app brought me back to the main route facing a left hand turn across multiple lanes of traffic. That's enough to keep me from using it regularly - I wonder if there's a preference setting that would avoid that.)
In the end, I made it home without mishap. On both legs of the round trip, facing a lot of uncertainty and, on the way back, very treacherous conditions, I was, with just a couple of short lapses, calm. Not impatient, not anxious, just calm. When the traffic was must unsettled, my first instinct was "be calm, make space." This is a remarkably different reaction than I would have had a few years ago. While I likely wouldn't have completely freaked out in these circumstances, I certainly would have been frustrated, anxious and agitated.
I believe that my mindfulness practices have had a significant effect on my state of mind - how I see things, how I react to events, and what choices I make. All for the better.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Brrrrr!
Monday night I taught two yoga classes at the Takoma Park studio. The room is on the ground floor and one long side is all windows, and little, if any, insulation. When I arrived the temperature on the thermostat said 67 degrees, but in most of the room it was significantly colder. Outside, it was in the teens and the wind was blowing. During the three hours I was there, with the heater working full blast the whole time, the room gradually got cooler and cooler. I taught active classes, but even so everyone felt the effects of the arctic yoga.
The bedroom was chilly all night, and when I arrived at work after a brisk morning walk I realized I hadn't felt warmed up since the day before. Perhaps a warm shower would help, or sleeping in the upstairs bedroom that is directly above the furnace and perhaps the warmest room in the house. Something needs to be done to warm these bones up!
The bedroom was chilly all night, and when I arrived at work after a brisk morning walk I realized I hadn't felt warmed up since the day before. Perhaps a warm shower would help, or sleeping in the upstairs bedroom that is directly above the furnace and perhaps the warmest room in the house. Something needs to be done to warm these bones up!
Monday, January 18, 2016
Juggling
Today was a challenging day to find the flow and stay in it. I was processing video from a concert - editing individual pieces out from a larger file and uploading them to YouTube. Each video takes several steps, and most of them take from a few minutes to perhaps 20-30 minutes to do. There's too much downtime to simply wait, so I'd find other things to do to fill in the waiting times, my attention moving from one thing to another like a juggler. It's hard to stay focused with so much switching from one thing to another, but I stuck with it, and finished half the concert as well as the other things I wanted to. It helped to be deliberate and patient, and to keep in mind what was essential to get done and what was less pressing.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Three Aspects of Practice
This week, my yoga teaching theme has three parts. They work well together, around the principle of nonjudgmental acceptance.
- Cultivate your observing mind - the nonjudgmental mind that sees things as they happen. Turn down the volume of your thinking mind, and learn how to pull back from it - it is an invaluable tool, but should not be in control.
- Always start where you are. In whatever you do, see with clarity the reality of the situation, accept things as they are, and then move on.
- Be kind to yourself.
As helpful and applicable as these ideas are in yoga practice, they also apply to life in all the variety of situations it presents to us.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Some Things I've Learned
I've learned that anxiety and stress are not inevitable, but result from choices I make. I've learned that anxiety is a sign that I'm not being present, and that engaging in an action, however small, with full attention will quickly take me out of the anxious state. Eventually I connected the dots and realized that this works because the act of "doing" occurs in the present moment, and when I bring my mind to what I'm doing, my mind becomes present, and anxiety fades away.
I've learned to recognize when my mind wants to take a tangent, follow a distraction, and how to say "no," I'm staying here with what I'm doing.
I've learned that getting things done feels good, and that working on lots of things but not finishing them leads to stress piling up. After years of doing crossword puzzles and thinking that I liked doing them, I realized that what I most liked was the feeling of finishing them. I decided I might feel better about work if I changed how I approached it so I would get more done, and I was right.
I've learned that it's important to create space in life, and not fill every instant with effort. I've learned to take a pause and relax, so that tension doesn't carry forward from on thing to the next.
I've learned to back away from urgency, and allow things to happen in their own time. I've learned to find the flow, and be content.
I've learned to recognize when my mind wants to take a tangent, follow a distraction, and how to say "no," I'm staying here with what I'm doing.
I've learned that getting things done feels good, and that working on lots of things but not finishing them leads to stress piling up. After years of doing crossword puzzles and thinking that I liked doing them, I realized that what I most liked was the feeling of finishing them. I decided I might feel better about work if I changed how I approached it so I would get more done, and I was right.
I've learned that it's important to create space in life, and not fill every instant with effort. I've learned to take a pause and relax, so that tension doesn't carry forward from on thing to the next.
I've learned to back away from urgency, and allow things to happen in their own time. I've learned to find the flow, and be content.
Friday, January 15, 2016
Soothing Rain
Light rain started falling as I left work. I felt the first drop as I walked down the sidewalk, that first drop that I imagine might not be a harbinger - or is perhaps imagination itself. Then there's another, and another, and they start coming closer together, and I realize - yes, it's raining - and then wonder if it will stay light and easy for the next 25 minutes, or if it will continue to build and end up soaking me before I get home.
Today, the rain settled in to a light patter, and I arrived home just a little damp. After I ate, the sound of the rain on the roof was so soothing that I laid down on the floor for a while just to be quiet and listen to it.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Calm
Focus creates time. Since implementing "the fewer things I try to do, the more I get done" less than two weeks ago, my work days have opened up. As I left work today, my inbox was empty, and I had checked a couple of long overdue file cleanup projects off the list. Instead of accumulating piles of partially finished projects, the list of accomplishments has grown steadily and my desk is clear. I know the people who work for me appreciate it, because they aren't waiting for my review and approval.
The key change I made is to stick with tasks until they're done, choosing not to chase the frequent opportunities for distraction that, in the past, would have led me off into the swamp, and left the project unfinished.
I feel calm. I don't have the accumulating stress from feeling there was more work than I could do, and from tasks that got buried and then resurfaced as last minute crises, and spending energy worrying about which thing I should work on while other things grew even more stale. I arrive in the morning without a burden, and leave in the evening, satisfied with the day's work done.
The key change I made is to stick with tasks until they're done, choosing not to chase the frequent opportunities for distraction that, in the past, would have led me off into the swamp, and left the project unfinished.
I feel calm. I don't have the accumulating stress from feeling there was more work than I could do, and from tasks that got buried and then resurfaced as last minute crises, and spending energy worrying about which thing I should work on while other things grew even more stale. I arrive in the morning without a burden, and leave in the evening, satisfied with the day's work done.
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Planet Report
A little over a month ago, December 10, 2015, my topic was the pre-dawn sky and the planets Venus, Mars, and Jupiter. I'd been watching for several weeks, beginning when they were quite close in the sky, as they gradually spread apart.
This week, on both Monday morning and today, the mornings were clear, the sky dark. Venus is still hanging out low in the eastern sky, but Jupiter is high overhead toward the south, and roughly in the center, but shaded a bit to Jupiter's direction, is the fainter, reddish Mars.
There's a slow-motion feeling to this planet watching - checking in once a week - or less often if clouds are in the sky - and seeing the change in position unfold over a period of several months. There's also a feeling of order, as I can trust that if the sky is clear, the planets will be up there, waiting for me in the early morning.
This week, on both Monday morning and today, the mornings were clear, the sky dark. Venus is still hanging out low in the eastern sky, but Jupiter is high overhead toward the south, and roughly in the center, but shaded a bit to Jupiter's direction, is the fainter, reddish Mars.
There's a slow-motion feeling to this planet watching - checking in once a week - or less often if clouds are in the sky - and seeing the change in position unfold over a period of several months. There's also a feeling of order, as I can trust that if the sky is clear, the planets will be up there, waiting for me in the early morning.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Getting Unstuck
There's a concept in yoga that the key to progress, most often, is removing an obstacle. Remove the blockage, and then progress will come naturally and effortlessly. In contrast, trying to force past, or overpower the impediment can often lead to greater harm.
Often, my first response is to work harder. It happens with the trumpet - if the lips aren't vibrating well and producing sound easily, then blow harder. If a door is sticking, push harder. If a coworker is resisting a task or suggestion, become more insistent. More often than not, there's some movement toward the goal I want, and that reinforces the idea that the way past an obstacle is to push, to force, to overcome it somehow. But there's always a downside to forcing.
Forcing the sound on a trumpet makes it harsh, builds tension, and ruins endurance and sound. Forcing a moving part can damage it. Pushing past resistance with people can strain relationships.
Yoga teaches to focus on the blockage, and work to reduce its strength or remove it entirely. When the obstacle is gone, energy flows easily and results are attained without strain.
Often, my first response is to work harder. It happens with the trumpet - if the lips aren't vibrating well and producing sound easily, then blow harder. If a door is sticking, push harder. If a coworker is resisting a task or suggestion, become more insistent. More often than not, there's some movement toward the goal I want, and that reinforces the idea that the way past an obstacle is to push, to force, to overcome it somehow. But there's always a downside to forcing.
Forcing the sound on a trumpet makes it harsh, builds tension, and ruins endurance and sound. Forcing a moving part can damage it. Pushing past resistance with people can strain relationships.
Yoga teaches to focus on the blockage, and work to reduce its strength or remove it entirely. When the obstacle is gone, energy flows easily and results are attained without strain.
Monday, January 11, 2016
How Do You Want To Be?
How do you want to be? I think that's a better question for guiding life than the more common "What do you want to do?"
I didn't realize it at the time, but in 2011 when I began to explore meditation and then yoga, having decided I wanted to be more positive about life, I was approaching my life question as how, rather than what.
How did I want to be? I wanted to be more positive. With that intention, I created a message for myself, phrased as if it was a present fact: "I am positive in all things." Then I set about to live that way. When faced with challenging events, it wasn't that I didn't have negative feelings, it was that I moved beyond them to ask, "What good can I gain from this? What is there to be positive about?" And there always was something.
Sometimes I know what I want to do. Other times its harder to identify. But I always know how I want to be. I want to be kind, to be open, to enjoy life, to be positive. Maybe the "what" doesn't really matter that much. I wouldn't trade how I want to be for any particular achievement.
It seems to me, looking back, that this process was a way for me to uncover and connect with a deeper part of me, the real person underneath the superficial material goal-oriented achievement shell I had built. That early, simple identification of how I wanted to be - more positive about life - has stuck with me for the past five years and grown more rich as I followed where it led me.
How do you want to be?
I didn't realize it at the time, but in 2011 when I began to explore meditation and then yoga, having decided I wanted to be more positive about life, I was approaching my life question as how, rather than what.
How did I want to be? I wanted to be more positive. With that intention, I created a message for myself, phrased as if it was a present fact: "I am positive in all things." Then I set about to live that way. When faced with challenging events, it wasn't that I didn't have negative feelings, it was that I moved beyond them to ask, "What good can I gain from this? What is there to be positive about?" And there always was something.
Sometimes I know what I want to do. Other times its harder to identify. But I always know how I want to be. I want to be kind, to be open, to enjoy life, to be positive. Maybe the "what" doesn't really matter that much. I wouldn't trade how I want to be for any particular achievement.
It seems to me, looking back, that this process was a way for me to uncover and connect with a deeper part of me, the real person underneath the superficial material goal-oriented achievement shell I had built. That early, simple identification of how I wanted to be - more positive about life - has stuck with me for the past five years and grown more rich as I followed where it led me.
How do you want to be?
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Practicing Presence
Presence is simple. Presence is keeping the mind engaged with what is happening here, and now. Presence is not easy. Our minds naturally leap from past to future, mulling things over, thinking about contingencies and options - what to do next - what might go wrong.
Presence is loving. That is, it is accepting and nonjudgmental. Sometimes that's the hardest part. The mind will stay present, or at least in the immediate vicinity, but court remains in session. The part of us that wants to say "this is good," or "this is bad;" "I like this," or "I don't like this," is hard to quiet down. Perhaps it even seems that our judgments - what we like and don't like - define who we are and how we relate to the world.
Being present, accepting what is happening without judging, allows us to experience the world as it is, not through the filter of our own preferences and prejudices. But sending the judge home requires a lot of practice. One way to start is to pay attention to something that is relatively easy to be neutral and nonjudgmental about. Perhaps colors. "Color naming" is a practice that I like to do, especially in a busy place like an airport or busy street. Simply watching and naming the colors I see - red, green, light blue, gray, black, etc - and watching for any hint of judgment or preference. There's no "puke green," just green or perhaps shades of it.
Eventually, your sense of nonjudgmental awareness will be firm enough that you can move to more difficult subjects. Like people. I found it powerful to spend time watching people and labeling each one, simply "person." Regardless of shape, size, color, age, attire - all the stuff that might trigger assumptions and prejudices, likes and dislikes - I see another person and tell myself - "person." After a while, my mind stops immediately pulling up the assumptions and prejudices, and I have room to take in the experience with more objectivity, more acceptance of the world as it is.
Presence is loving. That is, it is accepting and nonjudgmental. Sometimes that's the hardest part. The mind will stay present, or at least in the immediate vicinity, but court remains in session. The part of us that wants to say "this is good," or "this is bad;" "I like this," or "I don't like this," is hard to quiet down. Perhaps it even seems that our judgments - what we like and don't like - define who we are and how we relate to the world.
Being present, accepting what is happening without judging, allows us to experience the world as it is, not through the filter of our own preferences and prejudices. But sending the judge home requires a lot of practice. One way to start is to pay attention to something that is relatively easy to be neutral and nonjudgmental about. Perhaps colors. "Color naming" is a practice that I like to do, especially in a busy place like an airport or busy street. Simply watching and naming the colors I see - red, green, light blue, gray, black, etc - and watching for any hint of judgment or preference. There's no "puke green," just green or perhaps shades of it.
Eventually, your sense of nonjudgmental awareness will be firm enough that you can move to more difficult subjects. Like people. I found it powerful to spend time watching people and labeling each one, simply "person." Regardless of shape, size, color, age, attire - all the stuff that might trigger assumptions and prejudices, likes and dislikes - I see another person and tell myself - "person." After a while, my mind stops immediately pulling up the assumptions and prejudices, and I have room to take in the experience with more objectivity, more acceptance of the world as it is.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Mom
Today, January 9, 2016, would have been Mom's 86th birthday. She passed away at the end of January, 2010, six years ago. Lately, I've been thinking that of the many things she taught me, one I value most is simply to be kind.
I wanted to honor her, and remember her birthday today, by doing some things that I know she would have enjoyed. The first three that came to mind were reading a book, going for a walk, and playing piano.
This morning I spent a couple of hours reading, enjoying the quietness, focus, and process of letting ideas come into my mind. Two of the cats joined me, and I thought of Mom and her cats.
A mid-afternoon walk took me down into the park and around through the neighborhood on a route I seldom take. The winter woods are quiet, resting. The clear creek waters flow bubbly and quick over riffles; slow and calm through pools. Crows caw high in the trees. The earth was soft and yielding after a few days of damp weather.
I walked further, toward a large tree whose main trunk branched into a "Y." I saw a squirrel run headlong down the left branch of the Y, then leap several feet across to the other branch, rattling the English ivy. My first reaction was to marvel at the agility of the the leap. My second was that it seemed a little unusual - the squirrel was high up and in no danger - usually they'll just pause and watch, perhaps moving around the trunk and out of sight. Then I realized that I couldn't see the squirrel. Had my attention wandered and it ran off? I moved to a position where there was better light to see the ivy covered trunk. No squirrel - but then I noticed a small hole in the trunk, perhaps three inches tall and a little narrower. Ahh, there was an explanation for the flying leap. The squirrel was simply moving as quickly as possible to the safest place it knew.
Mom enjoyed squirrels too. In Kansas, she used to set out dried ears of corn and sunflower heads for them to eat in the winter. I closed the walk on the front step, turning to look out at the world and thanking Mom for giving me the gift of being alive.
I played the piano, improvising in my own way, as Mom loved to do in hers. In later years, whenever I went home I tried to find a way to make some music together with her. As I finished playing, I held the sustain pedal, closed my eyes and listened to the resonant sound of the chord slowly fade, and fade as my eyes teared up.
Later in the day, another task appeared that reminded me of Mom - a basket of laundry to fold. Joy in the simple things.
I wanted to honor her, and remember her birthday today, by doing some things that I know she would have enjoyed. The first three that came to mind were reading a book, going for a walk, and playing piano.
This morning I spent a couple of hours reading, enjoying the quietness, focus, and process of letting ideas come into my mind. Two of the cats joined me, and I thought of Mom and her cats.
A mid-afternoon walk took me down into the park and around through the neighborhood on a route I seldom take. The winter woods are quiet, resting. The clear creek waters flow bubbly and quick over riffles; slow and calm through pools. Crows caw high in the trees. The earth was soft and yielding after a few days of damp weather.
I walked further, toward a large tree whose main trunk branched into a "Y." I saw a squirrel run headlong down the left branch of the Y, then leap several feet across to the other branch, rattling the English ivy. My first reaction was to marvel at the agility of the the leap. My second was that it seemed a little unusual - the squirrel was high up and in no danger - usually they'll just pause and watch, perhaps moving around the trunk and out of sight. Then I realized that I couldn't see the squirrel. Had my attention wandered and it ran off? I moved to a position where there was better light to see the ivy covered trunk. No squirrel - but then I noticed a small hole in the trunk, perhaps three inches tall and a little narrower. Ahh, there was an explanation for the flying leap. The squirrel was simply moving as quickly as possible to the safest place it knew.
Mom enjoyed squirrels too. In Kansas, she used to set out dried ears of corn and sunflower heads for them to eat in the winter. I closed the walk on the front step, turning to look out at the world and thanking Mom for giving me the gift of being alive.
I played the piano, improvising in my own way, as Mom loved to do in hers. In later years, whenever I went home I tried to find a way to make some music together with her. As I finished playing, I held the sustain pedal, closed my eyes and listened to the resonant sound of the chord slowly fade, and fade as my eyes teared up.
Later in the day, another task appeared that reminded me of Mom - a basket of laundry to fold. Joy in the simple things.
Friday, January 8, 2016
Fewer Things, More Done
"The fewer things I try to do, the more I get done."
I made this observation a few weeks ago at work. I had cleared away piles of paper - things I'd saved to read - things I'd started but not finished, that then got buried - things that at one time seemed important, but now seemed to belong in the recycle bin.
Fewer things, more done. Simple. I began to restructure how I work around that idea. Space and time seemed to open up. Stress all but disappeared. Work flowed, instead of piling up.
My current practice is to write down three things I want to complete for the day. Inevitably, more things arise, and I choose whether to add them to the list or save them for another day. But the three things get done, and usually several more. I'm more organized and intentional about what things need to be done quickly, what can be added to the weekly management team agenda rather than worrying about right now, and what can be quickly delegated.
Fewer things, more done. Accomplishment, not anxiety. Flow replaces frenzy.
I made this observation a few weeks ago at work. I had cleared away piles of paper - things I'd saved to read - things I'd started but not finished, that then got buried - things that at one time seemed important, but now seemed to belong in the recycle bin.
Fewer things, more done. Simple. I began to restructure how I work around that idea. Space and time seemed to open up. Stress all but disappeared. Work flowed, instead of piling up.
My current practice is to write down three things I want to complete for the day. Inevitably, more things arise, and I choose whether to add them to the list or save them for another day. But the three things get done, and usually several more. I'm more organized and intentional about what things need to be done quickly, what can be added to the weekly management team agenda rather than worrying about right now, and what can be quickly delegated.
Fewer things, more done. Accomplishment, not anxiety. Flow replaces frenzy.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Dancing Life
Wherever I am, there's always a context - the tiny part of the universe that, at that moment, I am relating to most directly. I'm never completely separate from it. As soon as I draw a breath in, I am connected in an intimate, and existential way, with the world around. Even if I'm asleep.
Sometimes it's a calm and simple world, other times, much more complex or agitated. But there's always a rhythm, a flow, that arises from the energy moving around - animate and inanimate alike - and how I relate to it. The sooner I sense and align with the rhythm, the sooner I feel present and in the flow. This doesn't mean that I'm passively floating along - I'm part of it - I contribute to the rhythm. Sometimes I can affect it a lot, sometimes hardly at all - but always I'm much more able to positively affect the flow around me if I'm deeply connected with it. Then I'm shaping and creating with it. Otherwise, I'm just mindlessly disrupting the flow, generating discord and stress.
Aligned with the flow, I feel content and free to choose my actions. The rhythm changes, and I move with it, dancing life.
Sometimes it's a calm and simple world, other times, much more complex or agitated. But there's always a rhythm, a flow, that arises from the energy moving around - animate and inanimate alike - and how I relate to it. The sooner I sense and align with the rhythm, the sooner I feel present and in the flow. This doesn't mean that I'm passively floating along - I'm part of it - I contribute to the rhythm. Sometimes I can affect it a lot, sometimes hardly at all - but always I'm much more able to positively affect the flow around me if I'm deeply connected with it. Then I'm shaping and creating with it. Otherwise, I'm just mindlessly disrupting the flow, generating discord and stress.
Aligned with the flow, I feel content and free to choose my actions. The rhythm changes, and I move with it, dancing life.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Deep Immersion and Change
My best guess is that I spent about 20 hours over about a week preparing for my New Years Day workshop on intention and making change. As always, the basic idea comes easily, but working out the details - that's the challenge. Plan, review, revise, rethink, redo. Eventually I had a workshop planned that I was happy with and confident about.
Then the workshop was cancelled. But I immediately knew that the work had been worth it, because after the intensity of preparation faded, the work began bubbling up in many ways. I knew how it was going to transform all of my yoga teaching, taking it to a new level of depth and value for the students, going beyond the physical poses to a deeper level of meaning. With several classes now behind me this week, I'm still experiencing the newness of the transformation. I'm well aware of differences in my teaching, and the students can tell, as well.
The process of deeply immersing in a subject, studying it with intensity and purpose, and then coming up for air on the other side and finding the work blossom out in unexpected ways, seems for me to be how the most dramatic change occurs.
The intensity perhaps burns deeper through layers of habit and complacency. There's a word in yoga - tapas - the fiery intensity that burns away our ingrained patterns and the impediments to the experience of yoga.
Then the workshop was cancelled. But I immediately knew that the work had been worth it, because after the intensity of preparation faded, the work began bubbling up in many ways. I knew how it was going to transform all of my yoga teaching, taking it to a new level of depth and value for the students, going beyond the physical poses to a deeper level of meaning. With several classes now behind me this week, I'm still experiencing the newness of the transformation. I'm well aware of differences in my teaching, and the students can tell, as well.
The process of deeply immersing in a subject, studying it with intensity and purpose, and then coming up for air on the other side and finding the work blossom out in unexpected ways, seems for me to be how the most dramatic change occurs.
The intensity perhaps burns deeper through layers of habit and complacency. There's a word in yoga - tapas - the fiery intensity that burns away our ingrained patterns and the impediments to the experience of yoga.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Finding Freedom in the Flow
The fewer things I try to do, the more I get done. Time opens up. I pause and think, "what next?"
One of my intentions for the new year is to find the flow, every day - to connect with the pace of the world, align with it, and flow effortlessly through the day.
When I arrived at work this morning, I wrote down three things I wanted to do. If I finished them, it would be much more than I'd accomplish in an average day in the past. Soon after I set to work, a new meeting appeared mid-morning on my calendar, and I remembered another thing that needed to be done. I wrote it down to, and kept working. Even dealing with a couple more extra things, I still finished my list by mid-afternoon, and then had time to work on a few more things before going home. I'm left with no pressing, partly done tasks and a feeling that this is almost too easy.
I'm also not carrying any stress about work with me. "If you want to accord with the Tao, just do your job, then let go." It's the same advice that Krishna gives Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita - do your best to fulfill your duty, and accept whatever happens in the end.
There's freedom in the flow.
One of my intentions for the new year is to find the flow, every day - to connect with the pace of the world, align with it, and flow effortlessly through the day.
When I arrived at work this morning, I wrote down three things I wanted to do. If I finished them, it would be much more than I'd accomplish in an average day in the past. Soon after I set to work, a new meeting appeared mid-morning on my calendar, and I remembered another thing that needed to be done. I wrote it down to, and kept working. Even dealing with a couple more extra things, I still finished my list by mid-afternoon, and then had time to work on a few more things before going home. I'm left with no pressing, partly done tasks and a feeling that this is almost too easy.
I'm also not carrying any stress about work with me. "If you want to accord with the Tao, just do your job, then let go." It's the same advice that Krishna gives Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita - do your best to fulfill your duty, and accept whatever happens in the end.
There's freedom in the flow.
Monday, January 4, 2016
Brisk!
I walked home this evening just after sunset, into a gusty north wind that stung my face and roared past my ears. My hands and feet grew cold, and a tooth in my lower right jaw jarred with every step, as I walked with a steady pace - not hurrying - but intent on getting home - walking purposefully, shall we say?
Sunday, January 3, 2016
A Year on the Way
Last week I was sitting in the Oklahoma City airport waiting to board a flight that was so late I was sure to miss my connection. What to do? I got out my iPad, and opened Stephen Mitchell's translation of the Tao Te Ching. I started reading where I left off last, and after a couple of page turns I read:
"A good traveler has no fixed plans
and is not intent upon arriving;"
Indeed, that was helpful advice. Thank you, Lao Tzu. It helped me be a little better traveler - if not a good one.
That observation, of course, is another way of saying that a good travel is present, and not attached to a particular outcome.
Much in the Tao Te Ching supports and resonates with the concepts of yoga. I'll be reading the Tao (the Way) more this year, and expect to be enriched by it.
"Open yourself to the Tao, then trust your natural responses,
and everything will fall into place."
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Transformation
Yoga is a practice of self knowledge and transformation. We learn how our bodies work - how we move in space with efficiency, coordination and balance - and inevitably, our body changes. We train the mind to be present, to pay attention. As we explore and learn more about ourselves, we gain insight into who we truly are - and we change - physically and emotionally. For as we uncover our true self, burning away old habits and patterns and letting go of self-imposed limitations, it inevitably expresses itself - shining forth with clarity and brightness.
Friday, January 1, 2016
New Year 2016
We humans like to mark the passage of time with annual celebrations. Our birthdays become our own special day - then there are the big holidays - celebrated by most of the people in our country, or socio-cultural group. New Years Day is celebrated by much of the world now, and there's usually a sense of being able to leave the past behind and move on to new opportunities. There's no particularly good reason for the celebration to be on this particular day, about 10 days after the winter solstice. For cosmic alignment, one of the solstices or equinoxes would at least align the day with an observable event in nature. Instead, we're stuck with an abritrary day in early winter, because of the way someone long dead rejiggered their calendar, and we haven't gone to the trouble to rejigger it for ourselves since.
Why do we want to hang on to 365 days of accumulated baggage before we decide to let it go and move on to something better? It'd be far better to keep a clean sweep as we go, day by day. Then New Years Day would just be another day.
It did feel good though to think back on the major events of the past year and acknowledge the change that has happened. This year none of it felt like baggage to jettison, just good life experiences - doing some new things, meeting new people, growing and learning. If it's helpful to look back and review a highlight reel, maybe it's worth doing more often, while the memories are a little fresher, and if there is a lesson to be learned, it can be put to use sooner.
Why do we want to hang on to 365 days of accumulated baggage before we decide to let it go and move on to something better? It'd be far better to keep a clean sweep as we go, day by day. Then New Years Day would just be another day.
It did feel good though to think back on the major events of the past year and acknowledge the change that has happened. This year none of it felt like baggage to jettison, just good life experiences - doing some new things, meeting new people, growing and learning. If it's helpful to look back and review a highlight reel, maybe it's worth doing more often, while the memories are a little fresher, and if there is a lesson to be learned, it can be put to use sooner.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)