 A pox on New Year's resolutions. Yay for you if they work, but they have not worked for me, ever. Instead, they raise an unrealistic bar set by any guilt and shame still hanging around from the old year. I am motivated by my failures until about January 7th, at which point I give up trying to be someone else and settled, slightly deflated, into myself. Thanks, and no thanks.
What does work for me is the thought of exploring new ideas and practices for the year ahead, usually inspired by last year's successes. This year, I want a lot. I'll skip right to the yoga desires.
As in love as I am with my asana practice, I'm hungry for more yoga: deeper meditation, breath work, perhaps chanting, and some kind of conscious relationship with myself all day long. I want yoga to show up in everything I do. (Which is to say that I'd like me to show up in everything I do. I'm hoping that all of this is not about yoga with a capital Y, but about the development of us, of our bodies, minds, and hearts through yoga.) My library bag this week is filled with yoga books for holiday reading. Deepak Chopra on yoga, yoga for dummies, and a full book on yin yoga.
I swear that my physical practice has created this desire. It's as though yoga has found an entry point and now wants its way with me completely. Why not take all of me, I say.
What do you want in yoga for 2011? I'd love to hear.
Thanks for the enduring interest of yoga. And thank you for the conversation. Happy New Year,
kristin
Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook,
and on Twitter,
and on iTunes.
 Best yoga of 2010?
Okay, I'll start. Hands down, no
question, it was 108 Sun Salutations, done by myself at 4am on the
solstice, December 21st. Why was it the best? (I will
resist giving you all 108 reasons.)
I can do it. This amazes me, even
now. I did it with a large group last year and almost died of a
paralytic exhaustion that lasted two days. This year, my god, my
god, I've gone back at it again, and lived. Happy Christmas and
New Year to me.
108 Sun Salutations gives me time
to move through phases: slightly stiff, warm and happy, tired and
worried I won't make it, fear I've lost count again (I really
should call it "108 or so"), and many, many waves of
joy/bliss/ecstasy, possibly related to paralytic exhaustion.
I read that physical yoga is
preparation for meditation. My seated meditation, following the
108, was more like flying. Holy mackerel, is all I can say.
Last thing, and I'm not sure how
to say this part. I finish the 108 knowing I'm on the yoga path.
Not wondering, not on and off. I'm on it. It's mine. Best
feeling I've had in a long time.
What's been your best yoga of 2010?
Let's celebrate.
Thanks to yoga for a fabulous 2010, and
thank you for the conversation,
kristin
Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook,
and on Twitter,
and on iTunes.
 Oh, this is a tricky time of year! And I'm so incorrect! I grew up with Christmas, so it's what I know. Many/most in the world don't celebrate. (I'm envious more often than not.) We put a real tree (cut from under hydro lines, I promise), which damns me to environmental hell, I'm sure. As though to compensate, we cover it with ribbons but no lights. No decorations outside. Sheer laziness. I am not religious, which can offend mobs of people this time of year. I'm not much of a shopper, which offends the local merchants and may further damage the economy. This year we're having turkey for the first time in eight years. Former vegans. Watch that offend. I can't get it right. Who can?
I don't know what you're doing at this point in the year. Whatever it is: celebrating, enjoying time off, working, screaming across the country to visit relatives or friends, enjoy.
During my practice today, I wish you happiness, joy, peace, deliriously centered calm, and, above all, love.
Thank you for believing so ardently in everything you care for, and thanks to yoga for bringing us all together. Thanks again for the conversation,
kristin
Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook,
and on Twitter,
and on iTunes.
One of the things that yoga teaches me
is this lifelong trip with my body is a love story. Some days I
struggle, some days practice is effortless, some days I laugh through
it, some days discouragement is the loudest voice in the room. Over
the last year, though, yoga has been a kind of matchmaker. My body
and I are getting along a lot more beautifully than we used to. I can't tell you how grateful for
that I am today.
If you're someone who has been a part
of this conversation with me, you know I've been in Bangkok, at the
beginning of what I thought would be three months of backpacking
around South East Asia. Three days in, I received a note from
home saying my lovely man has a tumor in his right eye. (His green
eye. He has one blue and one green, both beautiful).
Three days, half a world, and another
universe later, I'm at home, backpack empty and in a closet, six
inches of snow outside, and my lovely man sleeping next to me. We're
here for the insane ten days it takes for his treatment to begin in
Toronto.
During these ten days, we're grateful
for each other, for the people around us, and for all the good things
in our lives. Including yoga, which has changed our
relationship with ourselves and our bodies. I won't speak for Pat,
but it is invaluable, today, for me to have a familiar practice that
makes my body a love story, at a time when it might feel very
different.
A friend of mine describes his practice
as his body singing to him. During my own practice this morning,
I'm going to sing to myself and to Pat.
This trip ahead will not be a story of
illness. (Cancer will not be the loudest voice in the room.) It's
going to be a love story.
I don't have any questions to ask
this week. Just love, love, love from me to you.
Thanks for the conversation,
kristin
Dr. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web, on Facebook, and on Twitter, and on iTunes.
 Christmas is a crazy-making time of year. For every lucky person who loves it (the turkey! the kids! the shopping! the religious whatever!) there is one who doesn't (the elevated pressure to be jolly! the family! the cooking! the shopping! the religious whatever!). My family is typical, if not traditional. My kids are meeting in Toronto this week. I'll have a day or two with them (yeah! yeah!) before they may or may not head to a warmer Christmas in South Carolina with their dad's family. And my lovely man has this thing in his eye, which means we could be anywhere for the holidays. Even our dog, who is now in Toronto with her aunt and uncle, is unsure about where she wants to be.
If we're lucky, we'll smell a turkey somewhere this year. This sounds whiny. It isn't. I've given up imagining myself as the mother whose flock gathers 'round a traditional table, dishing cranberry sauce from polished silver.
My kids and I will sing Christmas tunes together when we meet. I'll cry, because it'll sound beautiful, and because it breaks my heart wide open to be together.
They'll go off, and then I'll find a place for my new tradition: 108 Sun Salutations. I did this last year, in a class. 108. In a row. It was the closest thing to yoga heaven, ever. The exhausted relaxation was so profound that it was everything I could do to walk to my car when it was over. This year, I'll do the 108 in my home studio if i'm back in time. If not, i'll do it in my sister-in-law's basement, or in a hospital, or wherever the opportunity presents itself in Toronto. It'll be my Christmas present to myself.
All of which is to ask: does yoga play a part in your holiday this year? Do you put it aside, or is it a gift of sanity and self-care to yourself?
Thanks to these holidays for teaching each of us what's important in our lives. And thanks to you, always, for the conversation,
kristin
Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook,
and on Twitter,
and on iTunes.
Can we talk about chanting? At my regular yoga studio, we begin classes with an Om or three. We finish with an Om or three and then shanti, shanti, shanti. It was embarrassing the first time. By my second class I'd fallen in love.  Some months ago, I heard Krishna Das for the first time. He's a fabulous singer who has chosen a career in chanting rather than rock or pop. His beautiful face (is that what chanting does to you?) was in Yoga Journal recently with a short interview. I swoon when he sings.
For the last two days I've been in transit to Bangkok. It's been exciting and completely disorienting. On the plane, when I'd just about had it with movies (three of them), torturous immobility, and gastrointestinal tract that has temporarily lost its bearings, chanting is what saved the day. I remembered that I had Krishna Das downloaded, listened for an hour, breathed, swooned, and became sane.
I read that chanting does something to us physiologically, that the placement of breath and tongue and sound changes us for the better. I believe it.
Do you? Is it a part of your practice? If it is, is it important to you? Has it changed you?
Thanks to yoga's complexity, thanks to yoga music, and thanks to you for the conversation. Om shanti, shanti, shanti,
kristin
Dr. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web, on Facebook, and on Twitter, and on iTunes.
 I've just celebrated my one year anniversary with yoga. My classes at the studio began last October, and last December I started practicing at home so that I might not continue to die after every class. Neither the beginner's crazy enthusiasm nor the beginner's intimidation has left me.
My stomach whirlygigs a bit to say this, but I'm about to launch into another new phase of yoga. For the next three months I'll be traveling with a tiny backpack, yoga clothes, and enough electronic equipment (the cords! the plug adapters! the surge protectors!) to send notes here, to you, and to the rest of the cosmos.
There are plenty of life goals forming around this trip. My yoga goal is to take my enthusiasm, curiosity, and abject fear, and see what yoga looks like through beginner's eyes in Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia. There is no chance my experience will be comprehensive, but with luck I'll gather a few wonderful stories. I hope you'll join me. I also hope you'll continue to share your own thoughts. We've had quite a trip together already, haven't we?
Thanks to the thrills that come with being new at this. Thanks to life for its open doors, and thanks, always, to you for the conversation,
kristin
Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook,
and on Twitter,
and on iTunes.
 It seems to me we learn lessons all day, every day. With every yoga class, every home practice, every work day, every family gathering, I learn something more about my body, my frustrations, my desires, and my direction in life.
Once in a while, it's nice to remove myself from ordinary life in order to see it all from a completely different window. I've just finished a few weeks of this by staying by myself (well, with Rosie, the dog) at our cabin on an island in Northern Ontario. It meant days and days of chopping kindling, hauling water, and tending the fire. It also meant doing as much yoga and meditation as I wanted.It's over. Sigh. It was beyond fabulous.
I learned a few things:
1. I'm doing as much yoga as I want already. This was a surprise. I thought, given so much time, that I'd practice for hours. Not so. I was completely content doing my regular practice, which takes about an hour. I am where I am, is the lesson.
2. Yoga is all mine. This was a chance to wear whatever I wanted, all day long. (Clown-stripe pajamas. Surprise.) To eat whatever I wanted. (Cereal, yogurt, and hummus.) To sing whatever I wanted, at whatever volume. (Broadway musicals, loudly enough to make my molars ache.) And to do whatever I wanted. (Yoga, every morning.) I love yoga in my life, is the lesson.
3. Slowing down enough that I land inside myself is easier said than done. I need to retreat from the world, occasionally, in order to remember how to do this. Although the meditation took more discipline than the yoga, it was hugely worth it. By the time I arrived back in town, I found every face, including mine, beautiful. Who I am inside is worth looking for, is the lesson.
Have you done your own retreats, ever? For an hour, a day, a month? Did you learn new things about yourself, or just confirm what you know already? Do you find your face beautiful? Thanks to yoga, for being one of the best teachers ever, and thanks to you for the conversation, kristin Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook,
and on Twitter,
and on iTunes.
 If you'd asked me a year ago about
yoga and my goals in practice, I would have talked about improvement.
Hanging lower in forward bends, gaining strength everywhere,
developing some kind of physical grace, and reversing the slumpiness
I sense in my 48-year-old body.
Although those goals haven't changed,
and although there has been progress in all of these areas, my practice
is about something else these days.
The living room floor is more a meeting
place, today, than anything else. During practice, my body and I
meet, yoga and I meet, my busy head and I meet, my energy level and I
meet. More and more, my heart and I meet.
And whatever happens, happens.
This isn't indifference or
resignation. I've just stopped making demands. Stopped pushing so
much. The result is that my practice has become more like a
conversation than a military parade (hup, two, three, four, hup, two,
three, four).
This reminds me of my kids. At some
point late in the parenting game, I stopped managing them and began
having real conversations. And, oh, all of a sudden, without the
pushing, I began to see them for who they are. And they're
extraordinary.
I feel as though I'm beginning to see
yoga, rather than pushing my way through my likes and dislikes,
through my attempts to manage myself in practice. The change is
good.
Do you know what I'm talking about?
("Are you picking up what I'm putting down?" the kids and I used to
say to each other.) Is practice a meeting ground for you? A pushing place? A climbing place? A love fest?
Thanks to Kali and Adrian, the best
teachers ever. Thanks to yoga for being another excellent teacher,
and thanks to you for the conversation,
Kristin
Dr. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web, Facebook, and on Twitter, and on iTunes.
 I've been working on Crow Pose. So
many of you have mentioned loving Crow, hating it, hoping
to master it, or dreading it, that I finally looked it up.
That's how new I am at all of this.
Hands in front of feet. Up on toes,
knees on upper arms. One foot off the floor, then the other. Feet
crossed, look forward. Count.
Well. I'm great until the second foot
comes off the floor. Most days both feet will cooperate. And who
can't look forward?
But the counting! Never have five
breaths taken so long! In fact, unless I breathe very, very quickly,
and I'm not sure hyperventilation is recommended as part of a yoga
practice, I can't get past three. Sometimes I can't get to two. (What's the big deal about five breaths, anyway, I wonder as I collapse after my tenth try. Well, the big deal is that until I get to five, I'm not actually holding crow, I'm just passing through Crow on my way to a banged head.)
This afternoon, I will try Crow with chanting. Chanting is new for me. I don't know anything but Ohmmmm, and Shanti, Shanti. Love them both. Today's chant will be, "I believe I can fly, I believe I can fly." I'll let you know if it works. Tell us how you feel about Crow. If you've told us before, tell us again. Let's have a Crowfest.
Thanks to yoga for ridiculously challenging poses, and for that infernal count of five breaths. Thanks to you, always, for the conversation,
kristin
Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web,
on Facebook, on Twitter, and on iTunes
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