It's been a wonderful, crazy month: auditions, filming, workshops, a cabin in the middle of nowhere, speaking for beautiful groups of people, and heaps of yoga. It's easy for meditation to get lost in the kafuffle.

My guess is that you live a similarly kafuffle-y life.

Luckily meditation is portable and can be done anywhere you can breathe. Meaning anywhere and everywhere until you're dead. Perhaps you can do it then, too, for all I know, but I'll speak from my own experience.

This morning I practiced in bed. Yesterday, on my living room floor. On the weekend I meditated in the middle of the night while visiting my dad, whose snoring shook my molars. I can do it anywhere.

I don't have time, we say.

I can't motivate myself, we say.

I can't shut my mind up, we say.

Because I'm certain the planet becomes a healthier, more loving, peaceful place with every moment of personal peace, I'd like to suggest something to those of you who don't yet adore meditation enough to spend huge whacks of time sitting cross legged:

You can start with one breath. The closed eye thing just makes it a little easier to detach from the attention-grabbing world around you. There's no rule that says you have to close your eyes or sit cross legged or chant om. These are all options, like leather seats or the electric bum warmers that we have in our cars in Northern Ontario, but which may not suit you at all.

Pause for one minute, and focus on your breath, on the way it feels in your body, in your nose. When the thought that it's fall and you'll need those bum warmers soon enters your head, gently take your focus back to your breath. Do the same thing with the next 14 thoughts that enter your mind. No resistance at all. Thoughts are simply doing what thoughts do, but my decision for this minute is to return each time to my breath.

A one-minute meditation practice. By the end of that minute, you may not have found lasting peace, but you have turned yourself in its direction. The rest is practice, and every single one of us who owns a mat is familiar with practice.

I'd love to hear your thoughts, whether you're new at this or you're someone who has adored meditation for a lifetime.

Thanks to yoga for offering us so many ways to be present.

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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 8:42 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

A friend called this morning, unable to tear her thoughts away from an all-consuming problem in her life. She wanted help.

Here's a reason to meditate.

Unable to tear her thoughts away? That's a bit like me going to yoga class and being unable to tear myself out of Downward Dog.

This sounds ridiculous, but it isn't. I love Downward Dog. I find it easier than almost anything that comes before or after during a class. It is a familiar place for me. I know it isn't best practice for me to stay in Downward Dog for the entire day, but I'd do it for an entire class if I had my druthers.

Similarly, my friend knows that staying with lousy thoughts is an easy, seductive rut but isn't good for her. She comes back to the painful story over and over like an obsessive-compulsive wound-picker who would love nothing better than to be free of herself.

Somehow, we expect to be able to control our bodies - time to brush my teeth (good hands!), time to open the door (good wrist action!), time to move out of Downward Dog (eyes ahead and jump forward) - but not our thoughts. "I can't help thinking about this," we say.

But we can. In fact, the moment I notice myself thinking an unwanted thought, I can make a choice to move my thoughts somewhere else, somewhere more loving, more joyous. If my thoughts return to lousy, shmucky, destructive places, I make the choice again. I make that choice 570 times a day if I need to.

This is a practice, just like our yoga on the mat is a practice. Some days I'll be a genius with it, some days I won't. Such is humanhood. But the practice works.

Meditation is this practice. It is the practice of letting go of my sticky attachment to thoughts.

Something to contemplate next time I am drawn to fear or worry, next time I judge myself, or you, or my life.

And just another reason to adore meditation.

Thanks to yoga and to meditation's central place in yoga. I'm so grateful for both.

I'm also grateful to you for being here. 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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 11:08 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Many of you do it already. Because I'm an enormous fan of meditation, I'm going to compile a list of whys over the next week or so. Please add your own, knowing that everyone who begins meditating contributes to a more conscious, loving planet.

1. You can do it anywhere you can breathe. Over the last month I have meditated in my car (in three cities), in bathrooms (in three cities), at our university, in a hospital, in a mall, in a hotel room, in my bed, in someone else's bed (it's not like it sounds), with my lovely man, by myself, while sitting, standing, and lying down, eyes open, and eyes closed. What else is so portable?

2. The physical practice of yoga is more likely to become deeper than physical when we add meditation. And yoga, in my humble but opinionated opinion, is not merely a sport.

3. I don't know who I am until I meditate. Or I don't remember who I am. This sounds like hyperbole. It isn't. Too often, my focus is on what I'm doing today, rather than who is doing it. Why does this matter? Because who I am is far more stable, centered, and peaceful than my to-do list, which can look like an attention-deficit-stream-of-unconsciousness nightmare. I'd rather be grounded in the peaceful me.

4. I'm homesick when I don't meditate. I've said this one before, but it's so worth repeating. What we're doing by meditating is remembering home. The truth is we are home, we are loving, peaceful, whole people. But we have these attention-grabbing rodent brains doing their best to make us forget that.

That's it for today. More next time. I'd love to hear the reasons you meditate, or the reasons you find yourself unable to start. Both will create great conversation.

Thanks to yoga for being so much more than moving on a mat.

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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 6:12 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

I had dinner with some politicians on Friday. It was more fun than it sounds.

I am so unpolitical that when a man came over to our table to shake my hand and say he'd heard me speak before, I smiled blankly and said, 'hehehehhe" or something equally charming and profound. I asked, afterward, who he was. Turns out he's our mayor.

I was giving a keynote talk to celebrate a wonderful organization that offers literacy training to anyone who wants it. All kinds of politicians attended, some of whom are engaged in an election campaign right now.

One of them had his Blackberry going all through dinner. I asked him whether he ever takes a day off.  "I can't afford to at this point," he said. I asked about a typical campaigning day and he reviewed the day he'd just had: something like 12 events, many of them involving cutting cakes, wearing party hats, and making wee speeches.

I asked how he maintains his physical energy during these campaigns. He mentioned several things. He rarely eat the cake at the events. He keeps all kinds of clothes in their car, changing five or six times each day to suit the events and in order to feel fresh.

And three times a week he visits his personal trainer at a gym. He's convinced this increases his overall energy.

I wanted to weep for him. First, because I'd go mad, having to shake thousands of hands, remember hundreds of names, and incur the wrath of the unhappy while smiling for the cake-makers. I'd be in a heap in the back seat of my car, doing a month-long Savasana.

That was the other thing that made me want to weep.

I'm all for gyms, and trainers, and elliptical machines. But hearing very busy people talk about their very busy lives makes me wish I were an even better ambassador for yoga.

Because these people need Savasana, don't they? And a daily practice that looks inward, that teaches them they're beautiful, a regular hour or two that plunks them in a quiet room full of peaceful, generous, smiling yogis.

I asked whether he'd tried yoga. No time at this point, he said.

I believe I have affected friends and family (about my enthusiasm, my sister always says, thank god it isn't heroin you're into, or we'd all be doing it), but I'm no good with strangers.

It made me wonder whether any of you have developed a kind of sound bite, some wonderful description of yoga that you use to invite people like this to yoga class. I'd love to hear it.

And they could use it.

Many thanks to our politicians for caring enough to put in these enormous cake days. Thanks to the party-hat guy pictured above at the Kensington Market. Thanks to yoga for being so wonderful that we'd love to pass it along.

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.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 8:39 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Things that make me laugh:

1. The way we all think our form of yoga is the best yoga ever. I am the worst culprit that ever lived. Kundalini rules!

2. The way I'm afraid to go back to an old class, try a new class, go to a friend's class, have a new teacher show up in my class. For god's sake, I'm anxious when I try a new DVD.

3. The way a small part of me fantasizes that the right mat or the right yoga pants might improve my Handstand/Headstand/Crow/Forward Lunge/Camel. No luck so far.

4. The inside voice that says, "I can't do it, I can't do it." That voice has no imagination. She's a one-liner. At least I'm laughing at her now.

5. The way a yoga practice takes 60-90 minutes, but yoga thinking, wondering, and dreaming consumes about 50 percent of my head space some days.

6. The way I can't wait to practice and then can't wait for each pose to end sometimes. Make up your mind, honey.

7. The way I feel. Honestly, I feel fantastic these days, so fantastic that it makes me laugh.

   I'd love to hear your yoga laughs.

Thanks to yoga for the humor. Thanks to my brother Adam, a yogi with a flexible face. 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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 8:23 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Warning: We are all actors.

Acting in theatre is like growing a yoga practice. You do it with wonderful people. Some of it is challenging, most of it is fun. There are a lot of laughs. All the while, a character and a life story grow. Try it. You'd love it.

If you come from theatre, acting for film is crazy.

My agent, who calls me Christian (this is not encouraging), sent me to a film audition this week. He prefaced the event by telling me how unlikely it was that I'd get the role of Lawyer in the movie. Bizillions of other actors auditioning for a one-paragraph part, he said.

Here's how it goes. I take half a day to do hair, makeup, and what I hope are lawyerlike jeans and a jacket. By noon I don't recognize myself. I memorize the lines and do my best to feel like a lawyer.

I arrive at the hotel where the screen tests are being done. I see 10 other women, all 15 years younger and beautiful, all dressed in navy suits and stilettos, all of whom make me feel older than my grandmother (who's been dead for 25 years) and profoundly un-lawyerly.

I do a two-minute screen test on camera during which no one in the room makes eye contact, and I go home, laughing nervously, saying, that's the end of the big film career.

Here's the thing: I'll bet we all have days when we're doing things that are beyond comfortable. New things, difficult things, potentially humiliating or embarrassing things. We take risks, all of us, following persistent, tickly instincts that say, "Try this. Come on, just try."

I'm a huge fan of risk, of trying new things. It keeps me alive and I want to be ALIVE while I'm alive, if you know what I mean.

What I need, in order to take risks, is something to go home to that pats me on the back. Something that says, "Good for you, good for you." Something that assures me that I am more than the risks I take, more than my successes and failures.

That something at home is yoga. As soon as I walk in the door, I change clothes, and in full fake lawyer makeup and hair, begin a good, thorough practice that brings me home to the real me.

So. I'm grateful for yoga for creating a comfort place from which I can leap a little higher and a little more often. (This time, miraculously, I got the part. I'll let you know how it goes.)

Has yoga changed your approach to confidence, risk-taking, and comfort?

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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 8:11 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

During one of this summer's visits to a friend's cottage, I brought a stack of yoga DVDs. We did two classes each day for four days. One of my friends--I'll keep her anonymous for reasons that will become obvious before the end of this sentence--happily reported that she began pooping four to five times a day by the time we hit day two. This pooping continued through to the end of day four. She was thrilled and radiant.

This makes me wonder about yoga challenges. When I Google "yoga challenge," I see 21-day, 30-day, 35-day, and 40-day versions, all of which promise fabulous benefits, particularly if you throw in meditation, a vegetarian or vegan or raw diet, gallons of water, and throw out caffeine, sugar, and chips, I suppose. (Kill me now, why don't you, says a significant chunk of my ego.)

I can't speak for the dietary changes, but it occurs to me that I've been doing yoga daily for the last 90 days or so, since the onset of my Kundalini infatuation. Here are some observations:

1. I'm glad it happened without me labeling it a challenge at the onset. There's a chance that a formal commitment would have whipped up my resistance. I'd like get beyond this kind of resistance.

2. I adore it every day, often twice each day.

3. No extra pooping for me, perhaps because my GI tract was happy already.

4. There are days when I begin with less energy than I'm used to. On these days I learn something about how my sleep is affected by my lovely man's snoring and the smacking of my dog's lips all night long. I learn about what food depletes my energy and what food restores me. I learn about the effect of my attitude and mood on my energy levels. Mostly, I learn that I still feel far better within minutes of beginning practice. This learning has been invaluable.

5. Practice has become a solid habit. I don't question whether I'll practice, only when.

6. I think daily practice is increasing my enjoyment of meditation. This one was unexpected. My meditation feels deeper and more blissful most days.

That's it for me. I'd love to know whether you've done one of these challenges and how you felt it changed you or your practice. Was it significantly different than doing three days a week? Did it help you establish a home practice? Did you lose your taste for chips altogether? So many questions. 

By the way, Yoga Journal has a 7-day Ayurvedic Fall Detox challenge beginning Sept. 12th. Good timing?

Thanks to yoga for presenting all kinds of challenges. 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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 9:07 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

"Don't pretend yourself beyond your evolution." Byron Katie

I thought by now I'd be calling all poses by their Sanskrit names. I thought I'd be vegan, dressed in earthy-bushy-leafy colors and hemp cloth, sprouting sprouts, and drinking water from my own well.

I've been at this yoga practice for almost two years, and my current thought is that it ain't gonna happen.

Sometimes you approach what you are by learning what you aren't.

As far as I can tell, I am not a disciple, one of the solemnly eight-branch earnest. I do not see yoga as the one and only path for all. I'm not interested in quoting the sutras the way others quote the Bible or any other religious text as an ultimate authority. Although I'm impressed by yoga's longevity, I feel no obligation to do it the way it was done 2,000 years ago.

Nor am I one of the Lululemon movement, on a modern marketing train, doing some miraculous hybrid of the old and the capitalist/activist new. Kudos to them for being the reason so many people my kids' age will love yoga. And for making so many bums look good in yoga pants. Not my thing, so far.

Where am I, then? So far, it's all about feeling great. I like yoga because it feels deliriously good, inside and out. My greatest belief is that we should all pursue whatever makes us feel this good.

I love what makes me feel at home in my body and on the planet. I love feeling strong and increasingly peaceful. I love meeting myself during practice every day. I love following the kind of practice that makes me feel most alive.

I suspect, bottom line, that yoga is the best vehicle for taking me where I've been headed all my life anyway.

This is not to disparage yoga in any way. Rather, I'm wary of setting yoga up as the be-all and end-all, the great savior. I'm not interested in worshiping yoga. I'm interested in questioning her, learning from her, spending time hanging out with her. I'm interested in her companionship.

So that's where I am. Yoga as friend.

I'd love to hear your thoughts about what you are and what you aren't. About where yoga fits in your life at this point.

Thanks to yoga for being so roomy, so multifaceted, and so generous.

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, on Twitter, and on iTunes.

Posted by Kristin Shepherd at 10:00 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)