Melanie's blog

Svasana

July 3, 2012

It is oftten in the sitting, where everything arises in daily life - when we slow down long enough to notice the ground beneath us, the air above us and the life which surrounds us.  The very act of doing nothing, on purpose, with intention, is revolutionary.  It is the undoing of things.  The pause of action.  The ability to not be productive.

Yesterday, I had dinner with two of my yoga students, who are also teachers - teachers of elementary school.  One of them was telling me how difficult svasana used to be for her.  The act of being still, lying down with eyes closed, and doing nothing, was anxiety producing, to say the least. 

In a culture where we place so much value on producing, being efficient, multi-tasking, and being "on," svasana takes on profound meaning.  It is the ultimate letting go, but without actually dieing.

Svasana - corpse pose - the end of the practice for the day.  A time for complete letting go.  A time to turn off the vritti (the mind chatter).  A time for effortlessness.  Emptiness.  It comes after we have filled up the pot, over flowing, with all that has arisen from practice.  And then, we give up.  We turn our palms upward toward the unviverse, toward divine energy, toward each other.  We release all that we are holding and let it slide off the fingertips.

If svasana is difficult, keep trying. If all else fails, cover your eyes with an eyebag and smile a great big smile, drop your tongue from the roof of your mouth, slowly relax your fingers at your side or place them on your belly and feel the ground supporting your body.

If svasana is easy, relish in the moments of emptiness and let it all go.

Om shanti.

Imperfection

Tuesday, March 6

Ahhhhhh . . . this being human is sometimes harder than ever.  Thank the baby lord jesus, ganesha, hanuman, shiva, shakti and all divine beings, that perfection is not the goal of my yoga practice or life.  This weekend at the Ashtanga Yoga Confluence I was reminded of this over and over as I approached almost everything.  There was a lot of stress for me leading up to being away in San Diego and it was quite hard for me to let it all go and simply arrive in my body, on my mat. I realized I had expectations about my time at the Confluence and needed to let them go.

My nature in this world, with my teaching, with my children, with my girlfriend, is to give endlessly and protect like a mama bear.  I don't however, always remember to leave some of the sweet nectar or protection for myself. 

Each morning I arrived on my mat in the room filled with at least 200 other people. I had to work on dropping into my feet, into my body, and into my soul.  I had to work at letting go of everything in my mind.  Over and over again this past weekend the master teachers (Tim Miller, Eddie Stern, Nancy Gilgoff, Richard Freeman & David Swenson) were saying that this practice of Ashtanga yoga is about the breath - it is simply a practice of moving breath in and out, with intention.  I can do that.  I can, and did, remember to breathe.

At times during the weekend, I found myself feeling completely lost, amidst hunderds of other yogis.  This has been a hard few months in my yogi world.  I am learning and doing my best.  I am practicing daily.  I am breathing.  I am loving.  I am honoring my path and teaching my students from the bottom of my heart. 

I am so incredibly grateful for my yoga practice.  I am so incredibly grateful that I am able to share this practice with my students at the Berkeley Yoga Center with authenticity and love and curiousity. I try to inspire my students every day to practice and love.

When imperfection in the practice arises, we bow to it and say, "ah yes, of course, limitation, difficulty, struggle; thank you."  If we can learn, if I can learn, to take this teaching into my daily life I will be able to truly practice ahimsa, the first of the Yamas, that is discussed in the Yoga Sutras, book two.  Ahimsa is to refrain from causing pain to any living creature.  This refers not only to physical violence, but also to violence, or even judment, with words or thoughts. To practice ahimsa, is to be impeccable with our words, deeds, thoughts and actions - not only to others, but also to ourselves.

Being impeccable with our thoughts toward ourselves, is probably the hardest for many of us.  This practice can begin on the yoga mat.  Each time a thought arises on the yoga mat that is judmental about our practice, we can begin again.  Instead of judging, we can notice our limitations, our beautiful imperfections, the same way we would greet an honored guest, "oh i am so glad to have you visit again.  I learn so much from you.  Thank you."

When we can learn this practice on the mat, it makes it more possible to bring it into our daily lives with our friends, family, children, spouse, strangers, ad infinitum. 

Imperfection will continue to arise in all of us.  When it does, the practice of ahimsa will help heal the way.

Om Shanti.

What is my lesson?

Friday, February 3.  I ask myself the question, "what is my lesson here?"  I ask it when life seems difficult and I'm not sure what to do, because I've tried the best of everything I know how to do.  I ask it today, because today is one of those days.  This week is one of those weeks.  I keep asking myself this question, holding it like a mantra.  And in this moment, nothing is coming - no answers are coming forth. 

Another lesson I have learned on my mat that I take into my daily life:

2.  Humility.  I have learned the complete unknowing.  I have learned that I'm not sure what my lesson is, in this shared schedule with my children.  I have learned that when I am expressing humiity, I'm not sure what the lesson is in trying to deal with difficult people who are not going to change no matter what I do.

Ahhhhhhh . . . maybe I do know, but it is simply too scary to do it differently. 

One of my dear friends said I have to show up and stop trying to avoid the conflict; stop trying to contort myself in order to effect the outcome, because either way the outcome is going to suck.  At least, if I walk into the situation and express myself authentically, then I've told my truth and stayed steady.  In some old relationships, I have a dynamic of years and years of contorting. 

I need to leave the contorting to my yoga mat. 

The lesson is this:  I have no control over others.  I only have control over what I offer, what I ask for, how I show up, and the intention with which I live my life. It always seems so simple.  This is how I practice yoga.  This is how I parent.  This is how I relate to my yoga students and everyone (almost) else in my life.

When am I going to get it?  Will the work I do on my yoga mat in this area, ever translate into daily living for me?  When I show up to each difficulty asking, "what is my lesson," I am trying to take ownership of what is mine and what is not and then, let go.

When I get on my yoga mat and practice, I am controling my breath, offering up my thoughts, asking for guidance and staying present.  For the amount of time I am on that rectanglular piece of rubber I am free.  Even when I experience fear and difficulty (which I do every time I practice), I am free.  I am free of judgment.  I am free of personality.  I am free of the past and the future. 

This is what happens when we let go of the ego and are, where we are. 

May I be happy and peaceful;  may I be safe and protected from inner and outer harm; may I be healthy, strong & free, in my body, mind & heart; and may I accept myself, just the way I am.

Om Shanti.

Practice

January 29, 2012.  I inhale and take my arms over head.  I exhale and fold forward.  I inhale and lengthen my spine half way up.  I exhale and float back to chaturanga (four-limbed staff pose).  Uhhhh stop!  Did I float back in my practice this morning?  Have I ever floated,  nonetheless floated back to chaturanga?  In my mind, I have most definitely floated and for now this is going to count - non attachment to ideal.  Non-attachment to how it "should" be.  Only be in the center of me.

One of the lessons I have learned on my mat that I take into my daily life:

1.  Non-attachment.  On any given day my hamstrings may or may not allow my forehead to touch my shins in my forward bend.  This is such an interesting occurrence for me and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to it.  On any given day my upper back may or may not allow for ease in halasana (plow pose).  Some days it is so stiff the act of putting my legs overhead feels like it is going to cut off blood flow to my head.  I have been practicing this pose daily for over 15 years and I still can't figure out it's unpredictability.  I could go on and on here . . .

I approach these difficulties with open palms, not grasping for what I can not achieve and not feeling adverse; not craving what I was able to do effortlessly the day before.  It is what it is.  No craving.  No aversion. 

Sometimes the practice feels like I am in the middle of mud.  Sometimes the practice feels like I am flying.  Neither of these experience relate to my self-worth. 

This lesson I understand more and more each time I practice and I take it with me into my life.  It helps me stay grounded in my relationship with my girlfriend.  She is currently a gradutate student working on a PsyD.  The time she has for connection comes unpredictably.  I take the time she has for me and indulge in deep connection and love.  I take the time she doesn't have for me and try to stay open and supportive of her process and needs, instead of being attached to the past.  Of course, it is what it is - and this seems so simple.  And yet, when I forget this lesson of non-attachment I get caught up in the past and the future and miss out on the moment right under my nose.  And that moment is so sweet and I am so grateful.  

Om Shanti.

 

Gratitude

January 24, 2012

This year marks the 20th anniversary of my yoga practice. I am steeped in gratitude for this path of yoga - it feels like it has saved my life. It has definitely saved my nervous system and paused the progression of my scoliosis. It informs every thing I do in my life - parenting, relationships, friendships, eating, family, driving, breathing, moving. I found yoga 20 years ago in Austin, Texas after years of chronic pain from scoliosis as a young person. I was diagnosed in junior high school and saw many doctors, wore special shoes, and was potentially on my way to having surgery. After seeing a chiropractor for help, it was suggested that before I make any decisions about surgery, that I might want to try yoga. My first yoga class was a hatha yoga class in a large gymnasium in Austin, Texas. The postures were quite difficult for me, but it didn’t seem to matter. I could not even touch my toes and had no awareness about posture, breath or staying present. In this first class however, I felt completely connected to myself in a way I had never before experienced. The teacher encouraged us to experience our sensations without reacting or avoiding them. I had never connected with myself from an internal place. On the contrary, at the time, I was consumed with how I might be seen in the world. I was originally drawn to yoga because it was not about the external - what the posture looked like or was supposed to look like; it was about the here and now. Over time, the pain in my body not only lessened, it ceased. Over the years I have practiced and trained in various styles of yoga. However, the Ashtanga system is the style that has my heart. It is the foundation of my practice and my daily living. It is such a gift to practice and teach yoga.
This year marks the 10th anniversary of being a mama. My son was born ten years ago this month. From the very beginning, when Noah was born at home and the pain of labor cascaded through my body, I was transformed. Like yoga, being a mom has helped birth the person I am today. Like yoga, parenting has brought me to my knees and forced me to surrender and let go. Ultimately, it is not the holding on that is most difficult, it is the letting go.

In my first and only other post so far, I wrote about the journey I was on with the new make-up of my family. I am still on that journey. Still absorbing the affects of the change. No matter what, I go to my mat. No matter what, I take that first inhale and take my arms over my head. No matter what, I practice. In this way, I stay committed to the truth in whatever way it unfolds. In this way, I stay devoted to the quieting the vriti. Not reacting to thoughts and sensations is one of the foundations of yoga. "Yogas citta vrtti nirodhah." Yoga Sutras, Patanjali. Yoga happens when the fluctuations of the mind cease and we are able to See. When first studying this yoga sutra, it is often misinterpreted to mean that while one practices yoga, the fluctuations of the mind cease. However, many times during practice, an entire hour and a half can pass, with the mind completely distracted and focused on the future. Upon further exploration, the deeper meaning of this sutra can be understood: yoga, in its truest nature, occurs during those times when the mind is still and perfectly focused on the present moment – whether in an asana or in daily life. Seeing what is truly present, instead of what we expect to be present, is yet another foundation of yoga. Each time we show up to our mat, we have to let go of what was, and what is to come, and instead be in the moment, asking, “What am I experiencing right now?”

This year marks the 10th anniversary of my and Cybele's relationship as co-directors and co-owners of the Berkeley Yoga Center. It has been such an incredible experience to be of service in this way to the yoga community in Berkeley. The Berkeley Yoga Center will celebrate it's 15th year in operation this year, one of the founders, Herdis Pelle, still teaches at Berkeley Yoga Center. We are so lucky to have an amazing, eclectic, collective of teachers who are all committed to the teaching of yoga. BYC is definitely worth checking out. It is a simple and magical place to practice yoga and is dedicated to the tradition of yoga being about the organic relationship between student and teacher. It is getting harder and harder these days to sustain a viable yoga studio run in this simple way. And yet, we continue to stay committed to this tradition.