Yesterday I was a part of the world's largest yoga class--10,000 yogis all neatly and peacefully arranged on the Great Lawn in Central Park. I was also fortunate enough to be behind the scenes for the two days leading up to the event, and I'd like to give you a peek inside!
I was there to be included in a documentary about the day, as well as filming a scene for a TV show, and would be one of the lucky yogis practicing onstage along with my good friend and leader of the park's practice, Elena Brower.
I arrived Monday at the Flavorpill offices to pick up my practice outfit (hello, Addidas and corporate sponsorship!) and be prepped by Ava Taylor, my manager and founder of Yoga Artist's Management Agency (YAMA). Sascha Lewis, Flavorpill co-founder, was the mastermind behind this event, just like the massive yoga class at the MoMa in January.
The office was abuzz with last-minute organization, yogis streaming in an out to get their assistant outfits, and film crews coming to set up their Tuesday with us. I thought the stress of last-minute responsibilities would be crushing. But still, the mood was buoyant, and everyone had a smile on their faces, even and especially Sascha, who was taking a moment in the midst of the melee to make an avocado and almond butter smoothie.
I can report that everyone held their centers even when no one was looking.
On Tuesday, I got to the Carlyle Hotel, where the yogis who would be on stage, including Duncan Wong, Maya Feinnes, Angela Clark and more, were invited to have our hair and makeup done (I think Duncan passed on that last offer). It was a moment of Zen in the shampoo chair, then back into the fun, as 20 amazing yoga instructors and personalities shared their perspectives and lives with one another. We laughed, we learned, and most of all, we gave one another heartfelt support as we walk the path of teaching this healing practice to the world.
Our smiles got even wider when we arrived at Central Park (after a full day already of meetings, filming and more organizing) to see the thousands of brightly-colored yogis flooding into the park. I saw so many people I knew from years past, it was like a karmic family reunion! Dharma Mittra was gracious and wise as I interviewed him for the documentary, telling us that he wasn't nervous to teach, because he doesn't look out and see 10,000 people, but rather, one beautiful soul ready to receive his knowledge---and it's easy to teach to one.
Yes, there was a huge thunderstorm that coincided with our first, thunderous OM, and yes, Elena was only able to lead us through one partial Surya Namaskar, making it not only the largest yoga class on record, but perhaps the shortest too, but let me tell you something--it rocked nonetheless.
As yogis, we'd been in alignment far before we ever stepped on those mats. I witnessed first hand how from the office to the hotel to the park, people were working together, seeing the good in any setback, and handling it all with grace.
I was there as teachers from wildly different belief systems bowed to each other and respected their differences even as they found common ground.
And thankfully, I was there as our community at large swept over the Great Lawn in a flood, covering what was a baseball field earlier in the day it with mats and bodies and hearts open and as excited to be there together.
The storm couldn't ruin our yoga--the day was the yoga, and all the days before. The postures were just extra credit.
Here's a pose we did yesterday that you might recognize. When you enter it, remember to let gratitude expand the heart, for all the opportunities, support, and love you do have all around you, and inside. Then after you practice, hold on to that aspect of you that is perfectly capable of being the change you wish to create in yourself, and in your world...whether it's behind the scenes, or standing up there in the spotlight.
Namaste!
Core Pose: High Cobra
A teacher friend used to call this "Teenage Cobra" because it's more grown up than Baby Cobra, but not quite as much as a full Urdhva Mukha Svanasana, or Upward-Facing Dog.
From Plank Pose, you'll lower yourself to the floor slowly, knees up or down. Make sure your elbows are directly over your wrists, and shoulders lifted. Your low belly and front thighs should pull towards the sky as you lower to provide more stability and less dropping out of the posture as you transition.
Once there, do an alignment check. Your palms are by the low ribs, preserving the right angle of your arms. Let's start from the ground up: firm your pointed feet into the earth, carve your tailbone toward the floor, and on an exhale, draw that lower belly in and up the spine as you press into the mat with your palms and begin to rise to your spine's capacity.
Think not of jutting the ribs forward to achieve the open-hearted look of this pose, but rather, as you ground the hands downward, wave upward along the front of your spine as it moves back into the body and up towards your crown. This will generate the movement from your pelvic core, a place of inner power and support that can sustain that open heart from a safe and healthy root.
Once your chest opens, you should be ready for your inhale--let it flare your ribs wide in all directions. Roll your shoulders back naturally and take the shoulder blades down the back slightly to support your chest lifting like two helping hands behind the heart.
Your head slides back and up with a natural neck curve, completing the graceful curve of this asana without risking cervical (neck spine) compression. You're free, open, and available for life in every moment. That's the yogi way.
Last night in New York City, I met my manager and a few others for a business meeting and afterward we went to visit a friend whose band was playing in Tribeca. It was a French bistro and they were playing Latin music.
When we arrived, no one was dancing, a contrast to every other place in the city where they pack the dance floors. The music was good enough to make a meditating monk get up and boogie. Yet still, according to the band, it's dead like this every week despite their efforts.
So my girlfriends and I, yogis all, did what we had to do. We put our purses down and created a dance floor of our own.
Within 10 minutes, 20 other people came out there with us--the same ones who supposedly never dance--filling the space, and having a great time. It stayed like this for the next 2 hours until a grateful and sweaty band was packing up to go. Where as the restaurant manager was telling them to keep it down earlier in the evening, he was clapping and supporting the party by the end. He was even up there with us at one point, shaking it like a Polaroid picture.
One of the band members approached us afterward and said, "It's so much better for us to have an energy exchange we can draw from. Thank you for being in such a state of perpetual celebration!"
That beautiful phrase struck me, and I realized that in order to create fun, adventure and magic wherever we go, we can each cultivate our lives into becoming constant expressions of our vitality and gratitude. The yogi understands that their innermost state is one of perpetual celebration, and then sets about doing the work it takes to keep themselves readily available to that source of love and light.
If we are always dancing on the inside, then why is it so incredibly challenging to access that feeling? After all, life doesn't always provide us with a bistro and a great band. We are sometimes asked to seek our vibrant center in the midst of heartache, grief and the stress of uncertainty. How can we find the beat when there doesn't seem to be music at all?
We can look to the yoga asanas for a clue. Our teachers ask us to enter into intense situations--like holding Warrior Two for what seems like an eternity. Then we are directed to channel the big energy of those sensations into something that lights us up, and moves us towards sparking more transformation instead of less.
We do this in part by learning to understand our satya, or truth, at its most distilled essence. A more superficial reaction might tell you that your burning quads are uncomfortable, and that could be true. But it's not your ultimate Truth, which, upon reflection, might help you see that besides being uncomfortable, that Warrior Pose is also giving you the opportunity to be powerful. Yogis don't run away from the fire of our existence. We walk straight through. And sometimes, if we lack outer support, like that night on the empty dance floor--we simply have to go first.
I remind my students that they are more than exercisers. They are conduits, channeling the heat of their inherent life force, prana, toward their most passionate expressions of who they are. This results in a strong, supple body, a mind able to focus on what matters, stories that we re-write to be empowering, and engaging in one of the foundational practices of yoga--dissolving resistance to our greatness wherever we find it.
In this way, yogis face down any fear, any difficulty and endure the sensations of suffering until they find a way to use it to their advantage. Even if no one else is on the dance floor with you and you feel alone, your heart is breaking or people are disappointing your expectations, you can dive into that perpetual celebration inside, and even through your tears, bow to your next doorway to wisdom, integrity and living out loud.
Say "thank you" first--then, get to dancing!
Core Pose: Dancing Fan Pose
This is a favorite variation on Fan Pose, one I use whenever I want to loosen up my legs, and access my creative source energy that can too often become constricted by tight hips.
Come into Fan, feet parallel, and spaced wide enough apart so you can bring your palms to the floor or onto a block.
Begin to bend one knee, and stretch into the inner thigh of the straighter leg even as you build heat in the bent one. Make sure to maintain healthy alignment with your knees always facing the same direction as your toes.
You can get more wild and free with this movement, swaying from side to side as one leg bands, then the other, or try a longer hold if you're loving the stretch. This will help you remove obstacles to your inherent sense of play, freedom and ability to dance anywhere, any time.
I'm sitting at the Indianapolis airport after an enjoyable weekend presenting workshops at CityYoga, Nikki Myers' fantastic studio. I know of Nikki through her program, Yoga of Recovery, which gives addicts holistic tools for navigating the intense waters of their addiction and preventing relapse. She's a living example of using the power of awareness and yoga to change a life from destructive to constructive, from suffering to happiness and even joy.
We had many conversations throughout the weekend, and it struck me how the yogic process of transformation that Patanjali outlined parallels the foundations of a 12-step program. Both Nikki and my mentor, Leslie Kaminoff, are fond of pointing to the Serenity Prayer popularized by Alcoholic's Anonymous:
Grant me the courage to change the things I can, The serenity to accept the things I cannot change, And the wisdom to know the difference.
Whether we struggle with substance addiction, eating disorders, or perhaps less obvious dysfunctions like giving over our power in relationships, thriving on stress and anxiety, or stubbornly muscling our way into every pose, we can all learn something from this deceptively simple concept.
Translated into yoga philosophy, we can align the idea of changing the things we can with tapas, or heat, the first part of the three-fold practice of kriya yoga. When we engage in tapas, we invoke our yang nature by taking actions that shine the light of awareness on our issues and work to dissolve the obstacles we find in the body, mind, and heart.
Then we practice Ishvara pranidhana (devotion), surrendering to the bigger perspective. Here we release our desire for the realities we don't like to change. For example, the weather here is horrendous. My flight is going to be delayed for two hours and I'm going to miss a fun gathering back in New York City that I was really hoping to make. But I can't force my plane to be magically un-delayed. So I have a choice. I can get upset and suffer or I can get a hot chocolate and enjoy this unplanned time to catch up on some writing. This step is actually one of not of acting. Instead, it's knowing when to stop, step back from the struggle, and turn your attention to something that you are able to shift.
Finally, we travel deep inside along the clear path created by the first two actions, and enter into an inner contract called svadhyaya, the practice of self-study. In this place, we gain the wisdom to know which road to choose in any given moment.
As someone who once struggled with an eating disorder and extreme co-dependence in relationships, I can tell you that it takes a mountain of fortitude to be able to say no to the seductive pull of instant gratification and a false sense of security. Yoga doesn't actually give us this strength, but it does offer the opportunity to discover where it's been hiding within us, like stumbling across ancient cave paintings while hiking.
Asana and meditation help us to remember that we have the ability to remain in full integrity when confronted with our addictive tendencies. They also illuminate the darkness when our hands are about to reach out for some external--and false--sense of security. Above all, through the yogic journey we discover that we are truly everything we're seeking when we reach for that drink or smoke, or are tempted to cling to that person: absolutely alive, confident, soothed, loved, and in mastery of our own happiness.
So next time you feel like indulging your craving or addiction with something that's not going to serve you, get to the mat. And, baby, start a revolution.
Core Pose: Low Lunge
From Downward-Facing Dog (Adho Mukha Svanasana), step your right foot forward and place your back knee on the floor. Your front knee should be stacked directly over the right heel. Draw your low belly in and transition up to rest your hands on your front thigh.
In this pose, it is easy to be passive and sink so far toward the floor that you're in danger of overstretching your connective tissue, which can cause inflammation and de-stabilize the joints. You can also pull so far out of the pose that you don't allow the muscles to hit that sweet spot of increased flexibility.
Use your awareness to find the middle path of engaging your muscles, sending your hips back, and backing off to go deeper, as a light stretching sensation arises in the belly, or center, of the muscles (not within the joints). Remember to keep your tailbone long and spine lifting to maintain space in your low back.
Take 10 to 20 breaths here then return to Down Dog. Switch sides.
Last night I did something I never thought I'd do in a million years. I quit teaching. More specifically, I've stopped teaching my public classes during the week.
This is a very big deal for me. I have been holding weekly classes at various studios for 15 years, and it's so surreal that next week no classroom will await me. There are, however, a lot of other things on my plate and I'm going to now use the time between teaching workshops to focus on taking care of the details that maintain my career: writing, planning curriculum, creating new content, and making meetings. I'd also like to fit in a social life!
I know that I'm lucky and blessed to be making this decision at all. Yet walking away from my classes was a real challenge for me. I adore my students, many of whom have been with me for years, and at any other time in my career, I would have been over the moon to have a room full of eager faces awaiting me each night. But it's not doing anyone any favors when I'm gone for three weeks at a time. You just can't cultivate consistent relationships that way.
I find that the more I work toward my dreams, the reality of living my yoga gets more intense. The types of choices I must make have shifted that way too. It used to be that my options were more clear-cut, between something I wanted and something I didn't. For example, I once had to pick whether I wanted to become a telemarketer for a tobacco company or teach yoga at a popular studio.
Now, as I refine my options, it's getting tougher to tell which road is best. Like this choice: Giving up my weekly classes in order to fully focus between travel engagements, or trying to do it all and reaping the benefits of every possible teaching opportunity. It's often easier when the choices life presents to us are no-brainers, but how do we navigate the ones that are confusing?
Yoga teaches us that there can be bhavana, or a healing quality, to the choices we make and actions we take. I say "can be" because we also have the power to choose the path of duhkha, or suffering. In my own experience, I see each fork in the road as an opportunity to do something that's either constructive or destructive to my ultimate goals of creativity, health, love, and happiness.
And, like anything in life, which direction your next step follows depends on a variety of factors. You must take into account your goals, core values, state of vitality, personal needs, other opportunities, and your current circumstances. A year ago, giving up my classes would have been ludicrous and potentially harmful to my goal of teaching only yoga. But now, the responsibility and energy they require is keeping me from giving my full attention to the other responsibilities I've taken on.
When you keep moving towards bhavana, and walking the way of more life, more love, and more freedom, you'll begin to see that even the most seemingly unclear choices suddenly come into sharper focus. Do you want the chocolate cake or the salad? The answer to both questions may be yes, each for good reasons. But which is going to invite in your highest, most integrity-filled and conscious self-expression? It depends. And which choice is right, right now, is entirely up to you.
Core Pose: Root Release
I teach this posture to help students access the healing energy at their source. You can do it between poses or any time you want to unlock and unleash the creative, nourishing, vital force that's found in the pelvic area.
Lie on your back. Bend your knees and cover your kneecaps with your palms. Press down strongly on your knees so the thighbones deepen into the hip joints. You want to ground through the leg bones, not pull the knees into your chest as you do in some other poses.
Relax your legs and hips completely, and, maintaining the downward pressure on your knees, roll your legs in circles, shake them out, and dissolve any areas of tension you might have accumulated during your practice or your day.
Enjoy the root release for one minute then move on to your next adventure.
Someone asked me recently, "What do you wish someone would have told you when you first started teaching that you had to learn the hard way?" To which I replied, "To ask for what I want."
Earlier in my career, I spent a lot of time waiting around. I saw my contemporaries offering workshops at other studios, teaching at big yoga events, and writing for online publications. Meanwhile I quietly taught my classes and kept waiting for studios to contact me and for other opportunities to come knocking. You see, no one had told me that it was up to me to make my own way in the yoga world.
During my classes I was fond of saying, "Life shows you the doorways to your dreams, but it's up to you to reach out and open them." I was continually coaching my students to take action, to go out there and mold the world to their soul's calling, and not take no for an answer. Apparently I didn't realize I had to apply the same advice to myself.
One day, I was sitting at my computer reading an article by a fellow teacher on a major website with a mixture of pride in her accomplishment and frustration at my absence from the same arena. I distinctly remember thinking, "Why don't they ask me? After all, I'm right here ready to go!" Then it struck me how ridiculous I sounded. How could anyone find me when I hadn't let them know I was there? I wondered what would happen if I started building a road that might lead more people to my front door.
I began by formulating story ideas and sending them to editors. I bought a video camera, figured it out, and filmed my own videos to post on YouTube. I set up workshops and trainings with studios around town, and if they couldn't accommodate me, I held them at friend's houses. If a roadblock to my plans appeared, I found a way under, over, or straight through. Or, I changed my tactics and let the resistance direct me towards something that was meant for me. But through it all, I kept working, expressing, teaching, and most importantly, asking.
In yoga, this ability to self-generate the courage and belief in oneself enough to act, even in the face of adversity, is an aspect of core strength. We might consider another aspect of brahmacharya (celibacy): to hug inward your life energy. I see this as the foundation of success: cultivating the spiritual stubbornness to take matters into your own hands, ask for what you want, and create the life you are meant to be living.
To me, this is why we practice. We're not only toning the body, but making the mind and spirit resilient and strong enough to contain the intensity of our doubt, insecurity, and questioning as we put ourselves out into the world. Otherwise, we'll let resistance--other people's and our own--stop us every time.
I've finally reached a point in my career where I get to teach the workshops I always wanted to and write a blog like this. And yet I know that these and other opportunities came from first asking for what I wanted and then seeking out the pathways for it to find me. When you participate in life as your own best advocate, even against all odds, you'll not only cross many bridges from where you are now to where you want to be--you will have helped to build them.
Core Pose: Transition from Low Lunge to High Lunge
I could write an entire essay about this journey. It's an incredible way to dissolve the habitual tension that builds along the spine and to hug into your stability and core center before expressing the final pose. Yet too often I see students come up with imbalanced movement that over-arches the back and compresses the lumbar spine.
Follow this sequence as you move from your Low Lunge into any standing pose, and you'll re-unite the front and inner body and experience more power and freedom in each moment.
Note: You can pause at each stage to feel your alignment, but eventually you want to do steps 2, 3 and 4 as one fluid, wavelike movement.
1) Begin in Low Lunge with your back heel stacked over the ball of the foot, the front foot forward directly under your bent knee, hips squared, and your fingertips on on either side of the forward foot. As you inhale, create space by lifting your hips and lower belly slightly and letting the breath travel like a wave along your spine.
2) As you exhale, ground strongly into your feet and let the downward press begin to engage your lower belly so your hands lift naturally. Notice how following your organic motion would not ask you to be in a backbend, but rather moving like a wave originating in the lower and middle areas of your pelvis. Remember: This motion should not be entirely in your lower back but shared with the lower abdominals. You're not undoing the lumber curve--just supporting it from the front body as well.
3) Maintaining a strong core and lumbar curve, keep the wave going as you begin to draw the side waist, abdominals, and front of your spine in and up from root to crown. Meanwhile, keep your chin down and shoulder blades wide as you wave towards High Lunge, stretching the upper back, neck, and shoulders along the way.
4) As you ground into the Earth and move up from your core, you'll likely notice a corresponding lightness in the chest and shoulder areas. My arms lift like the final, victorious Crane Pose in Karate Kid, but yours might want to come out to the sides or just straight up. Let your body tell you how it wants to move from day to day.
5) Once you've come into High Lunge, notice the difference in your pose. Is it shared with the whole body or do you feel it only in the back? What else has transformed because you stayed in alignment from the ground up?
Stay here for 5-10 rounds of Ujjayi Pranayama (Victorious Breath), and then firm your belly as you lower your hands back down to the floor and switch legs. r hips and lower belly slightly and letting the breath travel like a wave along your spine.
2) As you exhale, ground strongly into your feet and let the downward press begin to engage your lower belly so your hands lift naturally. Notice how following your organic motion would not ask you to be in a backbend, but rather moving like a wave originating in the lower and middle areas of your pelvis. Remember: This motion should not be entirely in your lower back but shared with the lower abdominals. You're not undoing the lumber curve--just supporting it from the front body as well.
3) Maintaining a strong core and lumbar curve, keep the wave going as you begin to draw the side waist, abdominals, and front of your spine in and up from root to crown. Meanwhile, keep your chin down and shoulder blades wide as you wave towards High Lunge, stretching the upper back, neck, and shoulders along the way.
4) As you ground into the Earth and move up from your core, you'll likely notice a corresponding lightness in the chest and shoulder areas. My arms lift like the final, victorious Crane Pose in Karate Kid, but yours might want to come out to the sides or just straight up. Let your body tell you how it wants to move from day to day.
5) Once you've come into High Lunge, notice the difference in your pose. Is it shared with the whole body or do you feel it only in the back? What else has transformed because you stayed in alignment from the ground up?
Stay here for 5-10 rounds of Ujjayi Pranayama (Victorious Breath), and then firm your belly as you lower your hands back down to the floor and switch legs.
Students often come up to me after my Core Strength Vinyasa Yoga workshops and tell me how surprised they were about what they learned. Many of them didn't expect the kind of information they got during a class they walked into thinking was going to just target their abs for two hours. That's because I teach that the core is more than just the abdominals.
Abs are an integral part of yoga, or any movement form, to be sure. They help stabilize and mobilize most everything we do, on or off the mat. However, they are only one aspect of what gives us the power to be strong and resilient in our practices and in our lives.
Whenever I teach core work, I always interplay the abdominal actions with their muscular counterparts, such as the erector muscles along the spine, which help keep the abs in check. I also discuss and work with the diaphragm to make sure we're able to keep our core resilient enough to enjoy the freedom of the breath.
Anatomy and yoga experts like Tom Myers, author of Anatomy Trains, and my mentor Leslie Kaminoff, author of Yoga Anatomy, tell us that the abdominals link up and communicate with other muscles in fluid lines that run from the feet to the head. I love to see students' faces light up when they find out they have a "core" body running close to the skeleton that they can access to amplify the effectiveness of any pose.
But there's more. In addition the holistic nature of the abs (for example, what you do with your rectus abdominis muscle affects the whole front line of your body) this root area contains so much latent energy waiting to be accessed. It also harbors our most personal fears, the very resistance that often blocks us from realizing our inner truth. Making a core connection might begin with working and releasing the more obvious outer body, but the yogi learns to sense the more subtle world within--whether this is the quietly powerful core myofascial line, the still space between the thoughts, the unwavering heart at center, or the soulful state of being aligned with who you really are.
All of this awareness leads us straight to one place: satya, or the practice of honesty. In my experience, being true to yourself comes from developing a consistent relationship with your inner nature of goodness, clarity, and peace. When you can tap into this part of you, an ocean of energy and wisdom opens. Once you find your way to the deep water inside, you can always return, even as you express what you've found out into your world. Your satya will always be there, offering a sometimes-surprising perspective that can truly rock your world from the core.
CORE POSE: Eagle Curl
Here's one of my signature Core Poses to target your abs that also lets you practice being uber-honestly you. It's hip and shoulder opener even as you work your rectus abdominis (the six-pack) and transversus abdominis (the girdle that wraps from sides to front of the torso) muscles. The bound arms and legs means that you can't rely on them as much for support, so the movement of this posture has to come almost entirely from the abs.
Come onto your back. Wrap your left arm over your right at the elbow, and your right leg over your left leg at the knee, as in Garudasana (Eagle Pose). Both legs are lifted with your left knee stacked over the hip joint.
Inhale with your shoulders and head on the floor. Exhale and firm your belly to curl your shoulders and head up, so just the tips of your shoulderblades remain on the floor. Don't move your knees closer to your arms, but do try to touch your left elbow to them.
Do 5-15 repetitions of this pose then lie flat on your back with legs long and arms overhead. Take a few belly-stretching breaths.
Note: If this variation is too intense on your neck, place your fingertips into the back of your head and do the pose this way. Be mindful not to yank yourself into the pose with your arm strength, but use the abdominals to initiate the movement.
When I began my yoga teaching career, I thought I had to be perfect. I felt the need to know as much as possible and be able to master every yoga pose. I wanted to be able to make Dharma Mittra's calendar jealous. So I spent hours each day doing yoga, reading about yoga, and then doing more yoga.
The end result? Not the perfect body or a ninja-like command of postures that would make Ana Forrest cry. Just chronic injuries and a constant feeling of self-doubt. "Am I good enough yet? No way!" seemed to be my mantra.
Then one day, I was at a toy store shopping for my niece's birthday. I turned a corner and saw a little girl trying to shove a Tonka truck into the garage of a Barbie house. (Just for reference, a Tonka truck is big, bulky, about the size of a shoebox. A Barbie garage is made for a tiny pink convertible.) This kid was starting to get more and more frustrated and upset because the truck wouldn't go in. So she started to pound it wildly against the little plastic garage and cry.
I realized that what she was doing was exactly how I was approaching my yoga practice. My teaching was, and is, geared toward teaching real people real yoga, and giving them the freedom to be right where they are, even as they take transformative actions. My classes are never about attainment, but about the joy of play, curiosity about what will best serve us in each moment, and, of course, a deeper core awareness of who we really are. I wasn't practicing what I preached, and that discrepancy, in my mind, didn't make me better than my students--it made me a hypocrite.
How could I tell a room full of people to be themselves, to relax and go with the flow, if I wasn't willing to do the same? I needed to cease my unattainable quest for perfection and allow myself to be as imperfect as I am. Not in a bad way, in an organic, honest way.
So I stopped trying to shove my truck into a Barbie garage. I am no other teacher, woman, or person but myself. I shifted my style of practicing yoga to a kinder, gentler one. Now I don't force, I play. I don't aim for increasingly difficult variations, I enjoy backing off to go deeper inside. And, importantly for me, I offer my body room to breathe, days off, and a loving awareness of what it really needs.
I'm not saying that we should all stop wanting to attain our goals, in yoga or elsewhere. But we should strive to enjoy the harmony that comes with aligning what you do with who you really are, not who you wish you were. My personal style is still vigorous, but now a softening has occurred within it. I built a Tonka garage--or acquired a Barbie car, as the case may be--and now my outer life fits its own inner dharma, or nature.
What can you do next to take actions that better represent who you really need and want to be? Here's an asana that can help you study what that is and gain insight as you move forward.
This posture gives you an opportunity to stay centered in your core connection then decide what expression or action (aligned with your best interests or not) is right for you today. It's really a mindfulness meditation disguised as a physical movement. But then, aren't they all?
From Down Dog, step your left foot forward and come into a Low Lunge. Your fingertips should be under your shoulders and your arms straight. Maintaining strong legs and a centered pelvis with navel pointing at the Earth, begin to unfurl your left arm toward the sky. You can look up or down to stretch the neck.
After a few breaths here, try grounding your front big toe mound into the mat as you wrap your left hip around behind you to move the leg straighter. Make this stretch a journey--don't rush towards the goal of a completely straight leg. Meanwhile, keep the right hand under the shoulder instead of immediately crossing it to the outside of the left foot. This will provide you with more stability for your foundation, so you're more likely to remain grounded and core-connected as you spin.
Sense when the urge to express begins to throw you off center, and then turn the navel to the left. Keep your hips, back knee, and toes positioned as if still in lunge position. From there, play with revealing the heart exactly as your body allows.
I'm in Omaha to teach a workshop, but since I had the
weekend free, I decided to drive to Chicago to catch a soccer game, or
football as it's known in the rest of the world. It was the Chicago Fire versus
AC Milan, a world-class Italian team.Since I love the game and have never seen a live match, I decided this
would be a great place to start.
Football is known as The Beautiful Game for its
breathtaking fluidity and graceful skill.You can see it exemplified by the Brazilian national teams in 1958, 1970,
and 1982. A friend, who is also a soccer player, explained that when kids grow
up playing football in parks or on the street in countries like Brazil, where
some of the most gorgeous playing styles originate, they are free to be
creative, take risks, and play with abandon. When organized teams and rules and
structured positions get involved, not to mention the financial influence and
pressures of playing at the top levels, it gets harder to invoke the more
expansive spirit of the game. The essence of joga bonito, or to "play beautifully," is at risk of being lost.
When it comes to yoga, life, soccer, or anything we do, some
structure can be necessary. We align our poses, we pay our bills, and we join teams.However, focusing only on the outer
form of any activity can pull us up into the head, and in that place, it's easy
to forget the heart.
I used to be fixated on lining up my big toe just so, or by making
sure there was always a perfect line from my middle finger to my elbow to
shoulder in Warrior II. And don't even get me started on Handstand. Then one day I ran into
John Friend at an ashram, and asked him, "If there was only one thing
you could teach your students from now on, what would it be?" I thought for
sure he would pick some physical alignment point, a loop or spiral that was
particularly crucial. He thought about my question for a good long moment,
smiled, and said, "I would tell them: Always remember to float in the heart
essence of every pose."
His answer literally took my breath away. Human nature is
one of goodness and creative energy, or shakti, as John might point out. As
yogis, we not only try to line up with these aspects through the principles of alignment,
but we have a responsibility to embody them from the inside out. Instead of creating
poses that look good from the outside but feel nothing beyond the muscles,
asanas can become a dance from the core, expression organically rippling
outward from our inner connection to joy.
At times like this, watching AC Milan's incredible Brazilian
soccer star Ronaldinho sassily back-kick the ball with his heel and laugh, even
though there is a lot at stake, I again remind myself of this. Getting stuck in the
mind or in rules, responsibilities, or stories can squeeze the life out of real moments like a mental boa constrictor.
Within your own structures, can you let go? Can you allow a
deep soul-sighing relaxation to occur and a lightness and passion to arise--and
let yourself play The Beautiful Game every day from the heart?
Here's a pose to help you remember how.
Core Pose: Half Bound
Ardha Chandrasana
I call this pose Flying Bow, because it makes the shape of
Dhanurasana (Bow Pose) with the top arm and leg, and allows you to feel like
you're floating the pose high above the Earth.It also lowers the head in surrender to the heart, and
cultivates the rooted freedom that is the goal of any yogi.
Stand at the front of your mat and bend your knees. Fold into
a gentle forward bend, widen your hands slightly more than shoulder-distance apart,
and come onto the fingertips. Power your right foot into the ground as you
bring your left knee into your chest. Take hold of your left ankle in your left
hand.
Maintain an engaged lower belly and long tailbone as you
begin to roll your left shoulder back and lift your bound leg toward the sky as
you straighten your standing leg. Try to press the left foot into your hand,
and arch into a heart-opening backbend. Remember to ground the standing foot,
especially the big toe mound, for counter balance.
Aim for 5-10 breaths here then release into a forward bend
with bent knees before doing the pose on the other side.
Note: If this pose isn't accessible to you with a straight
standing leg, try bending the knee, using a strap to hold the lifted foot, or
just reaching for the foot as best you can.