After moving into my new apartment, the first thing I did, after unpacking, of course, was to place a statue of Ganesh at the entryway. My friend, feng shui master Ariel Towne, says that besides a fountain, the other necessary item near your front door is the little elephant otherwise known as the Remover of Obstacles. When you don’t let negative, sticky energies in, they don’t have a chance to affect you. “Cutting them off at the pass” is a phrase that might apply to what Ganesh is doing there at the front door. Aside from that massive job, Ganesh is also the Lord of Thresholds. Threshold . What a beautiful word. It reminds me of watching wind ripple the wheat fields during my Midwestern childhood. Yet, the concept itself has different meanings, not only describing the doorway itself, but what the doorway represents: a starting point, the beginning of any new journey or transformation. Ganesh is not some magic statue, without which you would have no protection against resistance, doubt, and fear–three of the biggest obstacles of all. It’s the act of placing Ganesh that brings awareness to our own desire to remain free of anything that diminishes or limits our potential to fly. In that sense, he represents that aspect of ourselves that is ready to swing open the door to our next adventure–and ready to step out of our own way long enough to clear the path straight through it. Henry Ford said, “Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off the goal.” You see, we have the power to either turn our experiences and truths into obstructions, weights tethered to any possible rise in self-esteem, greater awareness, and health; or to remove them.  Yogis have fabulous resistance-busting tools. We can get on the mat and practice, opening tight places and dissolving emotional and mental tension. We breathe, switch our thinking, learn to see more clearly and, by deciding to love ourselves a little more, we begin to widen the very doorway into our own hearts. By applying awareness to each situation we encounter, we open a threshold to our core, allowing our deepest wisdom to sweep through, and away, into the world in the form of our most courageous, conscious actions. In my classes, any time I want to clear the threshold, I ask my students to focus on hip opening. I call the hips “the Gateways,” because they can allow, or block, the energy moving from you foundation into your core. If the gateways are closed, the posture is incomplete and with it, the opportunity to gain the full benefits of the asana is lost. Try the following pose any time you feel a little closed yet feel ready to  make the space you need to cross the threshold into that next, most incredible state of being who you really are. Core Pose: Funky Lunge   This posture clears a common tight area–the side leg and outer hips–all the way from the foundation to your center. When you open this gateway, issues like sciatica may recede, since the piriformis muscle at the side of your pelvis often compresses it. As well, you’ll open the IT band, making this a wonderful way to free yourself from over-closure of the gateways of the hip muscles and joints and, quite literally, be able to walk through any threshold more freely. Come into Down Dog. Step your left foot to your right thumb. With this crossed foot placement, you’ll bring the right knee to the mat. Center your hips, and come onto palms or fingertips, on the mat or on blocks, so that your hands are under your shoulders. Begin to roll onto the pinky toe edge of your left foot. As you ground the foot down, and resist it back towards your hip, roll the outer left hip and upper thigh back and down so that it’s not hiking up toward your ribcage. Inhale, lift your lower belly and wave long through your spine. Exhale, and fold at the hip creases as you bend the elbows to your capacity. Play your edge of flexibility as you begin to straighten your front leg until you begin to feel sensation. Breathe and soften there before moving further into your stretch. If you want more of a challenge, try tucking the back toes under and lifting the back knee as in a Low Lunge. Your hands will walk back to remain under the shoulders for support. Breathe here for one minute, taking small spinal waves on the inhalation, and deepening your fold on the exhalation. Return to Dog Pose, and switch sides.    

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Clearing the Threshold

My mother and I were at the same family gathering on the weekend. Which is not a big deal if you come from someone else’s family, but my mom and I only see each other once a year or so. And that’s a huge improvement after two decades of down right difficult, then jaw-clenchingly tense, and now tentatively willing relationship. (There’s a mouthful.) She looks beautiful. One bionic hip, and two hearing aids (which she’d forgotten at home), but a soft, gentle face and a kind of high, croaky, older woman’s voice. Once planted on the couch, she stayed put. I brought lunch to her while she watched her kids mingle and her grandkids fling themselves around the room with my dog. She did yoga when I was a kid. That was my introduction to yoga, to meditation, to the whole idea of looking inward as a form of health care. It astounds me, writing this, when I consider how central this looking inward is to everything I believe now. It is the core of my work in health care, in theatre, in parenting, and in all relationships. My mother doesn’t do yoga any more.  She can’t get down to a floor and has no local chair yoga classes. More than that, she’s lost the oomph it would take to do yoga at home. When we talk about it, she says, never, never stop doing yoga. It was the best thing ever, she says. People make their own choices. I know this. And yet, if I had one wish today, it’d be that my mom could still do yoga. Or that somehow, I could do it for her, while holding her closer and closer to this croaky heart of mine, which, I hope, is growing more flexible over time. Is there anyone you’d love to hold during your practice? Thanks to yoga for looking inward, to my mom (love, love, love), and to you for the conversation.

More here:
Holding my Mother

My vegetable garden is officially off the charts. It’s all thanks to two people: My good friend Lise who inspired me last summer with her backyard garden, and my green-thumbed next door neighbor Ellen who taught me what to do–from getting my garden beds together, to planting, watering, weeding, and harvesting.  I’m hoping it’s not just beginner’s luck–and that Ellen will help me again next year–because Neil and I are getting seriously spoiled by eating out of our backyard. “The farm,” as we have taken to calling the plots, is ripe with peas, kale, broccoli, lettuce, beets, carrots and cucumbers and scallions and zucchini, with the very beginnings of tomatoes and corn peeping through.  The process has amazed me, reminding me both of motherhood (seeing those tiny seeds blossom into full grown plants) and yoga (with a little time and attention every day, and some   patience, you’ll start seeing results). How does your (yoga) garden grow? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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In Season

Two interesting, and strikingly different articles caught my eye in Sunday’s New York Times . The first, a book review by Pankaj Mishra that somewhat negatively reviews the rise of yoga in the United States. Whether in the streets of Mysore or on Fifth Avenue, yoga cannot be disentangled from specific histories or specific cultural and economic practices. Of course, the more vulgar aspects of its inevitable commodification in the United States, like $1,000-a-night yoga cruises, ­ought to be deplored. Certainly, the civic or political virtue that results from limber, yoga-toned bodies is not yet measurable. And it would be nice if American followers of yoga, who increasingly define the future of this Indian discipline, would at least occasionally seek something like spiritual transcendence. And the second, a glowing interview with Anusara founder John Friend by Mimi Swartz . The first time I encountered John Friend was at a workshop at a Woodlands community college nearly 10 years ago. At the time I was practicing a stricter form of yoga, and Friend’s joke-cracking and mind-boggling acrobatics — he is famous for his handstands — were something of a revelation. Yoga could be . . . fun ? As Friend led us through the poses, he spoke in a soft voice, insisting that we contain divinity within ourselves and must discover and express our inner goodness to fulfill our obligation to better our world. How to do so was never expressly stated — except for practicing yoga, of course — but I left the workshop feeling better physically, mentally and emotionally. I didn’t know at the time that this was my introduction to what others call “the cult of John.” If Friend could be compared with anyone outside the yoga world — and I am not sure he would like this comparison — it would be Joel Osteen , the magnetic evangelical megachurch minister with the feel-good message and a book-and-television empire. Osteen’s God is loving and forgiving. Osteen doesn’t get hung up on dogma, and thus everybody is welcome. I, for one, am happy to see yoga being discussed in the mainstream media. Glad that it is a part of our culture and open to debate. It’s good to know that people are thinking about these things and that makes it more likely to reach a deeper stream in our society. What do you think? ps- John Friend (@anusarafriend) plans to post his response to the interview today!

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John Friend and Yoga in America

For a modality whose very title, yoga, means “unity,” it sure seems to be chock full of opposites. Our hatha yoga poses are made up of the “sun” (ha) and “moon” (tha). Shiva-Shakti, or ying-yang, symbolize the passive and active parts of our natures, and we’re in constant interplay between sthira (effort) and sukha (ease) on and off the mat. Anatomically, we mirror this duality. Did you know there are no muscles that cross the midline of our bodies? We have the spine in back and the connective strip of the Linea alba in front, which when, you think about it, means that we are really two distinct halves fused together at these junctions. Spiritually as well, we exist as polar aspects of energy, which make up our total prana, or life force. I’ll call these collective energies the shadow and the light. Sometimes (in the cases of love and joy) the energies feel lighter, and other times (like with anger and sorrow), much heavier. Still, any of these energies can be used as pure fodder, fuel that either generates actions that are aligned with us or that steer us sharply from our paths. Since, in another two-sided element of being, our thoughts and actions can either feel more positive (loving) or negative (hurtful), we might make the misstep of placing value judgments on our feelings, deciding that the lighter energies are “good” and that the shadows are “bad.” We want to feel happy and free, and because our dark side may have caused us and others suffering, embarrassment, shame and loss, it’s all too seductive to try and live only on the light side of ourselves. I think it’s unfortunate that being a student of yoga is sometimes understood to mean one must be only light and happy, all the time, and to never feel angry, insecure, or vengeful. In my opinion, this idealized state is not spiritual perfection but a delusion of grandeur masquerading as spiritual practice. Being as we’re human and divine, it’s a great day when we realize that we can be both, and have our yoga, too. Because it’s not an absence of shadow feelings that makes one enlightened. It’s knowing how to alchemize them into conscious, loving actions once they arise that matters. Unfortunately, many of us aren’t there yet. We’ve even decided that there is “good” karma and “bad” karma. But when you look at karma as a concept, it’s judgment-free. It simply means that this or that choice can be more constructive or more destructive to your ultimate goals. Add to this information the fact that, often, it’s not the shadows themselves that are dysfunctional. It’s the way we express them that causes problems. If you shy away from discomfort, in your yoga poses or in life (and if you do one, I can nearly guarantee you do the other), it’s likely that you haven’t practiced with that dark side as much as you need to in order to become strong and resilient enough to bear its intensity. In other words, if you haven’t done this work, you may be prone to reactivity, where some event, inner or outer, connects you to your shadow energy. Before you know it, you’ve thrown a glass or hurled hurtful words at a loved one. Or perhaps you react inwardly and act destructively toward yourself, as in blowing an important deadline because you’re anxious or shutting yourself down out of fear. Picking fights, being disrespectful, participating in family dramas, gossiping, or using drugs or alcohol to cope with discomfort are all ways we let the dark side predominate. We have confused the reactions to our shadows with the shadows themselves, when in fact they are just energies waiting to be harnessed. It’s time to look directly at these energies, without naming or blaming, and use our yogi powers to  channel even our blackest moments from the messiness of reaction into the clarity and empowerment of reflection. From there, we can move forward into actions born of wisdom, not wildness. One way we do this on the mat is, simply put, by no longer resisting the sensations we don’t like, but by embracing them, or at least, softening our resistance against them to allow them to co-exist with the ones you are happier to feel. Say you’re in a five-minute Pigeon Pose, and somewhere around the three-minute mark, your hips start grumbling, then maybe yelling out loud. You were enjoying your moment of Zen, and had the breath under control, but here comes the old familiar hips-on-fire feeling. To deal with it, you start breathing louder, thinking about the grocery list, pondering your fingernails, and turning your attention to anything but the discomfort. Yet, according to yogic wisdom, this might be a powerful place to explore. What if, next time you found yourself in a battle of wills with those inner demons, you–well–just surrendered? Soften and widen the breath. Go gentler into that shadowy night. What happens when you stop fighting and start listening to what your dark side has been trying to teach you all along? When you do this, the monsters inside lose their power to throw you off center, and you’ll regain your inherent wholeness. The promise of yoga is unity, and by opening your heart to all of who you are, you will finally, completely, and nearly effortlessly, come home. The goal yoga may be to become enlightened, or to keep the fires of awareness lit, but we cannot get there without recognizing, and in fact honoring, our darkness. Without developing the sweet embrace of understanding and mothering grace of compassion for all that we are, we will never become whole, but rather just play out our days, quite literally, half-lived. Here’s a variation on a common pose that includes a mudra, or sacred hand position. Get to know it in a way that will remind you, as it reminds me, that wholeness is waiting whenever we widen our idea of yoga to include all its forms. Core Pose: Seated Spinal Twist with Gyan (or Jnana) Mudra Gyan Mudra is the “Knowledge Seal,” a hand position that helps focus your mind, heart, and spirit in a certain way. Start by uniting the tips of the index fingers and thumbs to symbolize the meeting of the awareness that comes from embracing your lower and higher energies. According to the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna was in Gyan Mudra when he imparted the teachings to Arjuna, urging him to use his humanity to express his divinity. Come into your easy seat. Make Gyan Mudra with both hands. Inhale and lengthen your spine at center. Exhale and bring the right hand to the left knee or thigh, and weave your left arm behind your back. Depending on your flexibility, your left hand mudra might peek out around the side waist as you see mine doing here. Take a few breaths here, facing your left side and opening the ribcage. Think of embracing your shadow side, the one you might hide from sight. Illuminate it with your attention and focused breath. Then reverse the pose and reflect on your active, bright, confident side for a few full breaths.  When you’re done with both sides, sweep your arms out and up, and when they meet overhead, bring the palms together in prayer, then down to front of your chest. Bow your head to your hands, a symbol of bringing yourself–all of yourself–into union.            

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Shadows and Light

This week my home practice happened at 5am one day, 3pm the next, and in spurts throughout the afternoon on another day. Not at all on two days. Occasionally I feel disappointed in this, wondering whether I’d finally be able to grab the toes of my left foot in triangle pose if I just applied myself with greater consistency, greater diligence, greater drive.   These same feelings come up when I hear friends say things like, “I haven’t missed a day of yoga in 2.7 years. It only takes 27 years to form a good habit. Only 270 days of boot camp and you’ll be a new woman.”  Etc., etc., etc.  Hearing these things, I slump into a kind of anti-achievement stupor. I have set the bar too high to make the leap and all I want now is a bag of chips and a lousy movie. Same thing goes for every area of my life. Extraordinary colleagues who make Tony Robbins look like a slacker, volunteers who single-handedly bring clean water to very thin children in very small villages, friends who climb absurdly high mountains in Peru for fun and charity dollars. I know these people, and watching them from the comfortable chair in my living room, I sometimes do a little dance with discouragement. Here’s my response to discouragement and disappointment when they’re doing a nasty tango with me: 1. Lower the bar. This may not be Tony Robbin’s advice, but it works for me. If an hour of practice feels like too high a climb, do thirty minutes. If thirty minutes feels daunting, do one downward dog. I mean it. One. 2. Adore myself for doing one downward dog, for giving myself one glass of water (the children in the village may come another day), for giving every little bit of love I can to myself and my fellow human beings. A well meaning hello with eye contact can save us all, some days. 3. Dream, dream, dream. Of the hamstrings I will have some day, the peace of mind, the work and workplace I’d love, the people I’d love to play with all day long. I do this because of an absolute conviction that dreaming serves to pull these things toward me. 4. Ask myself what one, small thing I’d love to do right now that would take beautiful care of me. Do that one small thing and forget everything else. These work for me. My guess is that you have your own wonderful thoughts.  I’d love to hear them. Thanks to yoga for putting all of this in my face this week, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

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Lowering the Bar

As an urban yogi I often day dream about coming to a bustling, messy street square and seeing–instead of garbage and taxi cabs– hundreds of yogis. Wouldn’t that be a sight? Well, Bay Area yogis are in luck because you are all invited to yoga it up in Union Square on August 7. Stephanie Snyder and Darren Main have signed on as volunteers to lead the masses, and just to add a little agave-flavored icing to this holy granola treat; registration fees benefit City of Hope . Here’s the spiel: Yoga for Hope is an event for yoga beginners and experts alike to bring awareness to the benefits of yoga practice for patients with life-threatening illnesses. Join City of Hope’s efforts to expand awareness of the importance of the mind-body-spirit connection is when battling cancer, diabetes or HIV/AIDS. Don’t forget to keep an eye out for Yoga Journal’ s sponsor booth to get a goody bag and magazine. There are also prizes and incentives to raise donations above the registration fee, for more information visit Yoga for Hope. Who says New York yogis get to have all the fun?

Originally posted here:
Yoga in Union Square

Last week I took Lucien to swim camp. Now, “swim camp” when you’re two involves getting into the water with your parent or caregiver and practicing the most basic skills like kicking and blowing bubbles into the water. I wasn’t exactly dropping him off for sleep away camp. But, on the first day, my guy was terrified of getting in the water, even though we swim together in one of the public outdoor pools in Vancouver. He refused to go in. Lucien’s fear and resistance reminded me of how I feel when I’m in yoga class and it’s time for backbends, specifically Urdhva Danurasana. Give me a chair backbend or an Ustrasana and I’m happy, but when it comes time for wheel, I have a hard time not heading for a bathroom break. But when, despite my urge to flee, I force myself to stay and work through the tightness in my upper back and shoulders and the voice in my head saying “No! I’m scared. I don’t want to do that pose!” I end up feeling a sense of freedom and elation that only come from breaking through a mental or physical block. Back at the swimming pool, it was seriously touch-and-go for a few minutes (major crying and “No, I am NOT a fish!” on Lucien’s part, and some serious cajoling–um, make that supportive encouragement–on mine).  Eventually we made it into the water. As you can imagine, Lucien loved it once he was in. The water felt great on a hot day, and the songs and games his teacher used to encourage comfort and familiarity with the water worked like a charm.  By Friday morning, the fifth and last class of the “camp” session, Lucien refused to get out of the water! All in all a huge success.   Sometimes, you have to force yourself to stretch. Which pose makes you say “No, I’m scared!”?     Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

Original post: 
Swim Camp

In a recent Anatomy of Yoga class with Leslie Kaminoff, we watched a video that I’ll never forget. And hopefully, neither will you. And, trust me, this all has a heck of a lot to do with your yoga practice! It features anatomist Gil Hedley explaining The Fuzz. You can watch it yourself, but be aware that it shows him working with a cadaver. Yet it’s such an important piece of knowledge that I’d like to define this incredible concept for you, and you can choose to view it or not and still take it forward into your daily life. Each night while we sleep, or any time we’re still for long periods, like sitting in a car on a long road trip, our body begins to build collagen fibers. They look a little like cotton candy, and are just as sticky, causing friction between what should be smoothly sliding muscle surfaces. The end result is the stiffness you might feel in the morning getting out of bed or standing up after watching a three-hour movie. Now, this is usually no big deal for those of us with a consistent movement practice. We feel creaky, we do yoga, we’re good. But if you don’t lubricate your joints and move your muscles to break up the fuzz regularly enough, it begins to knit together. Over time, the normal, subtle stiffness becomes limited movement, and even pain as the spider-webbed, bound body tries to move against resistance. Instead of confronting the fuzz, to avoid discomfort, many people simply move less. It becomes a vicious cycle that we often chock up to aging, but really is a cumulative, and mostly avoidable, buildup of fuzz. Now, that’s not to say that all physical slowdown is due to the fuzz, and if we simply stretch more, we will never feel the effects of age. But there is much more we can do to keep our bodies–and therefore our minds–as open, vital, and free as possible. This parallels the yoga teaching about samskaras , the mental and emotional patterns that make up our conditioning. Samskara is a neutral word, indicating simply the actions we take that lead to certain results, but our habits can lead to either constructive or destructive outcomes, depending on our goals. The yogi seeks to strengthen those positive habits that maintain the full range of spiritual motion, and, importantly, dissolve the ones that have become diminishing and threaten to hold us back from reaching our potential of living from love, light, and joy. It’s exciting to see science finding that the same lessons apply to our actual body as well. In fact, I see the two as interconnected, since continual mental and emotional stress, for example, leads almost unerringly to muscle tension, which is a direct physical manifestation of the samskara of anxiety or fear. This is the mind-body connection the yogis have known about for centuries, and though sometimes yoga philosophy can get pretty obtuse, much of it can be translated into the real world as simply as you want to make it. That’s nice to know when you’re looking for tools you can apply today, right this moment, that can help you release what doesn’t serve you, and keep, even amplify, the things that do. Yoga doesn’t have to be confusing. It’s the art of living in balance, and taking actions that fuel your happiness, whatever that means for you. From there, you’ll be inspired to offer some of that goodness to the world through your creative self-expression, and with a burning desire to help those who are still suffering. This is the road map the samskaras offer us: What kind of a life are you carving out through your choices? Is it shaping up as you’d like? If not, then start chipping away at another way of being until it more closely resembles your heart. The next time you’re on the mat, or doing a few Sun Salutes just out of bed, you are not only solidifying healthy habits, you’re creating the potential for new ones to take root in your life in so many ways. Here’s a great all-in-one pose for dissolving restrictive samskaras, and, with them, the fuzz. Do it in the morning just after you get out of bed, and you’ll greet your whole day with more resiliency, flexibility, and freedom from all sorts of fuzz. Core Pose: Low Lunge with Cat/Cow Variation Come into a Low Lunge position with your right foot forward. Your front knee is stacked over the heel, not out in front of it, to avoid knee pressure. The back knee stretches comfortably behind the hip, not directly under it. The front foot and back knee are hip-distance, or about two fists-width apart. Keep your hands on the floor, framing your front foot at first. Take a moment to back off the hips, since you don’t want to sink too far into this pose. This can cause you to overstretch the connective tissue. Instead, lift out of the pose a bit until you can ground the foot and knee, draw in the low belly, and bring your torso upright, hands onto the knee or thigh. You should now feel a stretch in the center of your muscles, not in the back hip crease and front sitting bone only. Your legs are also working to maintain the buoyancy of the pose. Inhale, carve your tailbone long, and arch your spine. Keep the back of your neck long, and lift the chest sky-high. As you do this move, pull your shoulders back and slide your shoulder blades closer. Exhale and round your back. Remember to keep the length in your lower back and roll more through the upper back and shoulder area. Gently lower your chin for a mindful neck stretch. This pose is meant to lift through the back of your heart and spread the shoulder blades wider apart than it is to press out your lower back curve. So although you will activate the low belly fully on your exhalation, lift it in and up towards the chest, rather than squeezing it back towards the spine only. Repeat the spinal motion with your breath for 5-10 rounds, then return to a Down Dog or Child’s Pose, and repeat on the left side.

Read the original here: 
Fuzz Buster

In a recent Anatomy of Yoga class with Leslie Kaminoff, we watched a video that I’ll never forget. And hopefully, neither will you. And, trust me, this all has a heck of a lot to do with your yoga practice! It features anatomist Gil Hedley explaining The Fuzz. You can watch it yourself, but be aware that it shows him working with a cadaver. Yet it’s such an important piece of knowledge that I’d like to define this incredible concept for you, and you can choose to view it or not and still take it forward into your daily life. Each night while we sleep, or any time we’re still for long periods, like sitting in a car on a long road trip, our body begins to build collagen fibers. They look a little like cotton candy, and are just as sticky, causing friction between what should be smoothly sliding muscle surfaces. The end result is the stiffness you might feel in the morning getting out of bed or standing up after watching a three-hour movie. Now, this is usually no big deal for those of us with a consistent movement practice. We feel creaky, we do yoga, we’re good. But if you don’t lubricate your joints and move your muscles to break up the fuzz regularly enough, it begins to knit together. Over time, the normal, subtle stiffness becomes limited movement, and even pain as the spider-webbed, bound body tries to move against resistance. Instead of confronting the fuzz, to avoid discomfort, many people simply move less. It becomes a vicious cycle that we often chock up to aging, but really is a cumulative, and mostly avoidable, buildup of fuzz. Now, that’s not to say that all physical slowdown is due to the fuzz, and if we simply stretch more, we will never feel the effects of age. But there is much more we can do to keep our bodies–and therefore our minds–as open, vital, and free as possible. This parallels the yoga teaching about samskaras , the mental and emotional patterns that make up our conditioning. Samskara is a neutral word, indicating simply the actions we take that lead to certain results, but our habits can lead to either constructive or destructive outcomes, depending on our goals. The yogi seeks to strengthen those positive habits that maintain the full range of spiritual motion, and, importantly, dissolve the ones that have become diminishing and threaten to hold us back from reaching our potential of living from love, light, and joy. It’s exciting to see science finding that the same lessons apply to our actual body as well. In fact, I see the two as interconnected, since continual mental and emotional stress, for example, leads almost unerringly to muscle tension, which is a direct physical manifestation of the samskara of anxiety or fear. This is the mind-body connection the yogis have known about for centuries, and though sometimes yoga philosophy can get pretty obtuse, much of it can be translated into the real world as simply as you want to make it. That’s nice to know when you’re looking for tools you can apply today, right this moment, that can help you release what doesn’t serve you, and keep, even amplify, the things that do. Yoga doesn’t have to be confusing. It’s the art of living in balance, and taking actions that fuel your happiness, whatever that means for you. From there, you’ll be inspired to offer some of that goodness to the world through your creative self-expression, and with a burning desire to help those who are still suffering. This is the road map the samskaras offer us: What kind of a life are you carving out through your choices? Is it shaping up as you’d like? If not, then start chipping away at another way of being until it more closely resembles your heart. The next time you’re on the mat, or doing a few Sun Salutes just out of bed, you are not only solidifying healthy habits, you’re creating the potential for new ones to take root in your life in so many ways. Here’s a great all-in-one pose for dissolving restrictive samskaras, and, with them, the fuzz. Do it in the morning just after you get out of bed, and you’ll greet your whole day with more resiliency, flexibility, and freedom from all sorts of fuzz. Core Pose: Low Lunge with Cat/Cow Variation Come into a Low Lunge position with your right foot forward. Your front knee is stacked over the heel, not out in front of it, to avoid knee pressure. The back knee stretches comfortably behind the hip, not directly under it. The front foot and back knee are hip-distance, or about two fists-width apart. Keep your hands on the floor, framing your front foot at first. Take a moment to back off the hips, since you don’t want to sink too far into this pose. This can cause you to overstretch the connective tissue. Instead, lift out of the pose a bit until you can ground the foot and knee, draw in the low belly, and bring your torso upright, hands onto the knee or thigh. You should now feel a stretch in the center of your muscles, not in the back hip crease and front sitting bone only. Your legs are also working to maintain the buoyancy of the pose. Inhale, carve your tailbone long, and arch your spine. Keep the back of your neck long, and lift the chest sky-high. As you do this move, pull your shoulders back and slide your shoulder blades closer. Exhale and round your back. Remember to keep the length in your lower back and roll more through the upper back and shoulder area. Gently lower your chin for a mindful neck stretch. This pose is meant to lift through the back of your heart and spread the shoulder blades wider apart than it is to press out your lower back curve. So although you will activate the low belly fully on your exhalation, lift it in and up towards the chest, rather than squeezing it back towards the spine only. Repeat the spinal motion with your breath for 5-10 rounds, then return to a Down Dog or Child’s Pose, and repeat on the left side.

Original post: 
Fuzz Buster

My office was burgled (what a lovely sounding word! It sounds like water pouring over rocks in a cool stream) on Friday, while I was in a back room speaking with someone. For the first two hours afterward, I thought, oh, this is just like trying to find the toothpaste on my bathroom counter. That substantial amount of cash is here somewhere. I just can’t find it. When the reality of it sank in, my gut writhed for a few minutes. Until–and this is the yoga part –until I realized this is what is. It is exactly like my hamstrings. They are short. No whining about that helps. No gnashing of teeth, no “why did this happen to me”, no “I should have done this or that”. My hamstrings are short. The money is gone. Can’t do much about it. Except. Except that I can look at the situation gently, and positively, and with a lot of love for myself. I can soothe my gut by contemplating the good things that might come from this. I can dwell on how lucky I am to be safe, happy, and engaged in work that will never land me in jail where the food is bad and my yoga props might be confiscated. A sense of humor comes back to me. Which, strangely, helps me wish my burglar friend well. For him (it turns out I met him before, which is why I know he is a him), I wish peace, well being, a relaxed gut, and good life choices ahead. In fact, I’ll go all out and say I wish long hamstrings for him. Somehow I know my own flexibility on this point will help both of us. Here’s what yoga is teaching me: What is, is. I do better when I let go. Looking at everything with peace and love makes it all better. It turns a burglary into water pouring over rocks in a cool stream. How cool is that? Has yoga done this to you, too? Thanks to yoga for the alchemy in this, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

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Burgled!

Feeling a little burnt out on your yoga practice? How about a little inspiration for your practice from a few of the greats? Check out Krisnamacharya’s totally zen moving Sarvangasana (Shoulderstand)! And from Mr. Iyengar himself: Who, or what, inspires your practice?

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Old School Yoga

The other day, my yoga teacher said something I keep thinking about. “In class,” Louie said, “we practice how to practice. But at home, we practice.” Of all things, this made me think of my date night with Neil this past weekend. On Friday night we went all out–hired a babysitter, made a reservation at a Japanese tapas place by the beach, dressed cute (in a summery dress and sandals for me and a striped button down and jeans for Neil). We had a great time – talking and eating and planning and dreaming – but the bill and the babysitter added up. Then on Saturday, we had a no fuss date night at home. We put Lucien to bed early and I set the table and gathered vegetables (lettuce, kale) from the garden while Neil made black bean veggie burgers and yam fries. We wore shorts and t-shirts and were sweaty from a day out and about in the summertime sun. For dessert, we ate raspberries from the garden. Guess which one was more fun? As important as it is to be out in the world – or in the yoga center – at home with the ones you love is where true practice begins. Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Date Night

It’s my first week in a new town, having moved from NYC to Austin to focus on yoga, travel and all that it entails for me right now. It’s slower here, no doubt, with a local news story lamenting that the new city Metro system doesn’t have enough people riding it! I’ll soon be parking my grateful derriere on one of the new, cushioned seats (with actual airspace between bodies) on my way to a yoga class. I miss New York, but I’m interested to see what health and yogic possibilities lay ahead for me here. In this transitional period, where cardboard moving boxes vie for my attention along with daily responsibilities (as I write this blog, all my books sit next to me in U-Haul containers, awaiting their freedom), I can’t help but feel, well, empty. This is a specific kind of emptiness, not the windswept sensation after an emotional storm, or the primordial suspension of a deep meditation. It’s more like a mixture of mourning and excitement, so evenly matched that it generates the time-standing-still feeling you have while retaining the breath after an inhale, or letting the exhale slide into a silent moment of nothingness before inspiring again. And when I say, “inspiring,” I mean breathing in and getting back to the creation of my life’s work, my dharma.  This is the calm before the flood, when creative elements will sweep me forward. And I have to be ready to both direct the wave and ride it into places I can’t foresee. It is scary, yet wonderful. I wonder if this could be the Middle Path the Buddha spoke of, or the “field” between happiness and sorrow that Rumi wrote about so eloquently. I think of it as The Void, taken from the Runes, the ancient Viking stones etched with symbols used by those seeking clarity. Here’s one definition of The Void from the Book of Runes : The Unknowable represents the path of Karma–the sum total of your actions and their consequences, the lessons that are yours for this lifetime. And yet, this Rune teaches that the very debts of old karma shift and evolve as you shift and evolve. Nothing is predestined. What beckons is the creative power of the unknown. We all hit The Void at one time or another, sometimes multiple times a day. It’s that pause that seems hollow but that is actually pregnant with possibility, full of creative energy, or shakti, waiting for you to decide which action to take next to direct it into form. The Void itself is often what ignites fear: of the unknown, of letting go, of being alone, of moving to that next level of ourselves, and risking failure and public ridicule to do it. Many people never cross The Void, because of what seems an impenetrable closed door of “I can’t, I shouldn’t” or “I’m not enough” blocking the entrance to the bridge across.   Yet when we practice yoga with as much determination off the mat as we do on it, when we get present and focus on what really matters–living completely, passionately, and without regret–we take destiny back into our own hands, the doorway magically opens, and, Void or not … we leap. Here’s a pose that may help you understand how solid the Void actually is, as you begin to see that you’re always where you stand, and from there, you can channel this veritable ocean of energy towards your biggest, brightest goals. Core Pose: Ankle-to-Knee Chair(Eka Pada Galavasana Preparation) This pose leads to taking flight in the arm balance of Eka Pada Galavasana, but for our purposes, we’re going to start where we are. Running too fast into the Void can cause you to miss out on the information coming at you from the core, and from your environment, a conversation that needs your full attention. Come to the front of your mat, feet hip-distance apart. Bend both knees and generate as much lift from your lower belly as from your lower back. Keep your spine long as you ground into your left foot and lift your right knee mindfully into your chest. Don’t rush; rather, make every moment of this pose an opportunity to find balance again. Once you’re stable, cross your right ankle over your left knee. Roll the thigh outward so your right knee lowers, and sit down deeper. Bring your hands to the chest, palms together in anjali mudra, which celebrates your connection to the Divine, or universal energy. Offer your heart forward as the hips move back to anchor you in this new place of balance and freedom. Take 5-10 breaths here, then return to Chair Pose, and fold forward over bent or straight legs for a few moments before repeating the balance on the other side.      

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Filling the Void

Summer is busy. This week, my lovely man did a yoga session on a sheet of plywood covered by a raincoat. He said it was great. I have done handstands in my office, downward dogs on an enormous rock by the lake, and side planks at the public library while waiting for a meeting to begin. I sneak yoga while waiting for my car to be repaired. And I would do it in the park and I would do it in the dark and I would do it on a rock and I would do it on a dock Yesterday I hung in a forward bend at the grocery store while looking at cans of tuna on the bottom shelf. No one said a word. I was there for ages. Where will yoga show up next?  Where is your favorite place to sneak it in to your day? Thanks to yoga for being so delicious that we want to sneak it here and there, we want to sneak it everywhere, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

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Yoga Here and Yoga There

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Parent-baby and parent-toddler yoga classes seem to be growing in popularity, but does it really help the children find their center? Shivani Vora from the Wall Street Journal reports. “A growing number of classes around the U.S. and DVD programs insist kids can reap all the benefits of yoga–but in a less-structured format. They say that yoga is calming for children, teaches them more awareness about their bodies and even helps with their development. But Punam Kashyap, a senior developmental and behavioral pediatrician at the Institute of Child Development at the Joseph Sanzari Children’s Hospital in Hackensack, N.J., says there is very little evidence that the practice can have a positive effect on young children. “It’s a theory, not a fact that yoga can calm babies,” she says. “That said, as long as your child is having fun in a class, it’s not going to harm them in any way.” As parents, we were curious if yoga would do anything to mellow out our small children. We tested three classes and a DVD for comparison. (Read the entire blog for the details of the “experiment.”) Our daughter paid attention for at least half of the DVD before her attention started to waver. She attempted a few of the poses and was fascinated by the animal and nature sounds like a hissing snake and barking like a dog. We aren’t sure if it made her any calmer, but she did have a good time and now keeps asking to “do yoga” to her disc. While the children didn’t seem noticeably more chilled out in the end, yoga did amuse them and introduce them to a practice they can use to de-stress when they’re older. For us, that makes yoga for kids a keeper.” What do you think about kids doing yoga? Are they old enough to reap the benefits?

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Is Yoga for Kids any Good?

You know your child is a yogi in training when: 1. He knows what a neti pot is and can explain how to use it and why. 2. She sings along to Krisha Das and Wah! 3. Not only can he do cobbler’s pose, he calls the pose by its Sanskrit name and prefers if you do, too. 4. When he wears his Ganesh T-shirt, he wants to “sing the song about Ganesh.” 5. He is MUCH more excited about the Babar yoga book than Toy Story 3. 6. Favorite foods include: avocado, peaches, quinoa pasta, steel cut  oatmeal, kale, and hemp milk. 7. The stuffed animals in your house play yoga rather than war. 8. He drinks chamomile tea in a sippy cup. 9. She gets really, really happy when she hears Mama’s off to yoga class. 10. He — see photo above — does a chair back bend off his high chair in the morning just because. How do you know your child is a yogi? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Ten Ways You Know Your Child is a Yogi

This morning, I talked with my lovely man about all of your comments on home practice vs. yoga classes. We love both, but he feels pretty strongly about his class last night. He’s been working like a Tasmanian Devil this week and found it beautiful to go to his yin yoga class, during which they are now holding some of their poses for 15 minutes. (Holy moly! Might as well ask me to fly across the Atlantic. Without a plane, I mean.) “What about my face?” he asks. “How could I remember to relax my jaw without prompting?  And my eyes, how do I let those go? Oh, and my throat, I love it when she reminds me to relax my throat. And Savasana is so good when someone else is in charge.” This is the reason I’m going to class at lunch today. There is something wonderful and easy about receiving the practice. Yes, I’m doing the work, and making all the personal choices about how much, how far, how strenuous or not. But, oh, how lovely it is, sometimes, to have my mind settled into each moment of each asana, rather than wondering what I’ll do next, jeez, there’s the dog at the door wanting a walk, woops, that’s my dad on the phone, and all of that. It’s as though, in class, they take me by the hand and just walk me down a path through the woods. I don’t have to choose the path or check my directions or wonder what’s ahead.   Just hold the hand and walk. That sounds good to me today. How about you? Thanks to yoga for being so many things to so many people, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

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Home Practice or Studio?

I left New York City on Monday with everything I own packed into a trailer, and set out for Austin, Texas, where I will be living for the foreseeable future. Though this was my decision, and I think a good one for my yoga career, my health, and my sanity, today it hit me: Everything I knew about my life in the city is now technically gone from me. My home, my neighborhood, my social scene, my yoga classes, even my local cafe have dissolved away as if in a dream, since I can no longer rely on them to help me feel grounded and secure. I spent a decade getting to know friends, eating at my favorite places, living in an apartment I loved, and settling into a routine that comforted me.  The fact that I know that moving to Austin will be more productive for me doesn’t change how floaty and surreal the world feels right now. Even the ground itself is moving, the highway spooling out and spinning away beneath my wheels. When most everything external literally proves to be as impermanent as the Buddhists and yogis tell us it is, whether it’s a big move we’re going through, the loss of a relationship, a job or smaller transitions, like a well-worn pair of jeans finally kicking the bucket, there’s always a sensation of shift.  These moments of ebb and flow can be unbalancing and scary.   Yoga teaches us about ideas that come from the things other people have lived. We turn to our teachers as guideposts, as those who have navigated similar situations, and emerged victorious using the tools of conscious awareness they then pass onto us. When our studies meet our personal life, and we are asked to walk the walk along this path, it’s a whole new yoga practice, perhaps the hardest one of all. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather endure Warrior 3 until my leg gave out than go through a breakup or a radical move.   When we as seekers of center experience times where all that we thought was real turns to smoke and slips through our fingers, and we’re dealing with the grieving process of moving from the past into the present, there’s a powerful question I can think of that we might ask ourselves: This is happening. Now, what am I gonna do about it? Believe me, when I was in the space of first realizing how much I’d just given up in order to follow my goals, one thing I could have done was totally, completely freak out. I felt the panic rising, as if I was that little bubble that’s supposed to be in the middle of a carpenter’s level, but someone tipped it, and my poor bubble was squished way up in the corner. In that moment could have turned back, canceled the whole crazy Austin idea, and settled back into what I knew.   Then again, my heart is calling me towards something different, and if yoga has taught me anything, it’s to be able to endure uncomfortable sensations in the body, mind, and heart, long enough to get to that atman, the soul, or center of myself. Once there, I can more easily bring myself back to a leveling off place, and find that calm bubble of my core returning to center. In fact, it’s not our inner peace that wavers as life does, but our moveable parts: thoughts, emotions, expectations, perspectives, and even the physical body. When we remember that just because our outer world changes doesn’t mean our innermost one has to, we dissolve the illusion that we are the constructs, and not the constant. So, we can answer our own question by choosing to draw not from our first reactions, but from the stillness inside. Then we can act from equilibrium to move towards the next, though as yet unformed, part of our journey, with the integrity it takes to create the future experience we want to live most of all.   Here’s the pose I did at the Virginia rest stop that helped me remember that … Core Pose: Natarajasana   If you see a statue of Nataraj, you’ll notice he’s standing on what appears to be a baby. Don’t be alarmed–it’s actually a demon. Nataraj is the cosmic dancer, and he exemplifies the power of riding the wave of universal energy rather than being consumed by the dark forces of doubt, insecurity, lack, and fear. Whenever I want to find my ground, and from there, let the joyful dance of life take me where I’m supposed to go next, I make sure to include Natarajasana in my practice.   Stand with feet hip-distance, about two-fists-width wide. Ground into your right foot, and bend your left knee so you can take hold of the outside of the left foot or ankle in your left hand. As you draw your low belly up and lengthen the tailbone down to maintain space in the front and back of your lumbar curve, begin to kick your foot behind you as you reach the chest and right arm forward, or up to the sky as your balance and flexibility allows. The amount of backbend here is up to you, but if you stay rooted into your standing leg and foot you’ll gain the stability and gravity this pose requires in order to inspire its freedom dance.

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Finding Center

In May 1975, the first issue of Yoga Journal –all 10 pages and 300 copies of it–was born. YJ is 35 years old this year, and we thought it only fitting to celebrate with yoga, of course! Our Facebook fans submitted their daring arm balances from all over the world, which you can view in our Arm Balance Extravaganza slideshow . Founded in 1975 by members of the California Yoga Teachers Association (Rama Vernon, Ike and Judith Lasater, Rose Garfinkle, Jean Girardot, Janis Paulsen, and William Staniger), Yoga Journal was created to unite the growing yoga community and provide “material that combines the essence of classical yoga with the latest understanding of modern science.” Read the full story of YJ’s beginnings here. Keep an eye out for more on our Special 35th Anniversary Edition hitting newsstand this fall. Be the first to get sneak previews and other special offers by becoming a fan at www.facebook.com/yogajournal

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Happy Birthday Yoga Journal!

Although I’m a yogi living in beautiful British Columbia, on stressed out hectic days, it doesn’t take much for me to veer into my frazzled New Yorker mode. But lately, thanks to the (finally) beautiful Vancouver summer weather, the aftereffects of my recent yoga retreat, my reduced work load – no university writing classes this summer to teach, no short turn around freelance assignments – I’m feeling much more mellow than usual.  My to do list no longer feels so pressing or urgent, nor does the laundry pile.  Because our morning day care only runs during the school year, Lucien is home for the summer and I’m in 24/7 mom mode. In some ways it’s easier having him home and on a more flexible schedule with no rush out the door in the morning. We can swim down by the beach or go to the playground or library, all to our hearts’ content. Even the usual challenges of mothering feel easier these days. If Lucien skips his afternoon nap, then we go outside in the sunshine and play.  If my babysitter’s alarm clock fails to go off on the one morning I have a few hours slotted for writing, then Lucien and I hang out on the front stoop for an unexpected unscheduled hour of just being together.  If my husband goes on a four day long weekend trip to Sweden for work, well then I’ll tame my inner cheapskate (or try to) and hire aforementioned beloved babysitter so that I can go to a Saturday afternoon yoga class and a Sunday morning movie, too.  Feeling this way is worth it.  My relaxation is having an effect on all of us.  When I feel calm and centered, Neil’s less stressed (despite his crazy work deadlines), and Lucien seems happier and more easygoing, too.  He sings around the house all day long.  When I’m anxious and overworked  – thinking back to the days when I was frantically juggling teaching, meeting a book deadline and caring for a nursing baby – everyone felt that, too.  My new goal for this coming year is to see if I can be in the “real” world (balancing work and motherhood) but keep an easier, lighter yogi-summery attitude.   Yoga is a gentle reminder to come back to this calm center. Please someone, next winter when it’s cold and rainy and I have a writing deadline to meet and a virus is going around, remind me to take a deep breath and remember this summertime mellow-as-can-be feeling with the kitchen door open and the sunshine coming in. Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Summertime Zen

Before I move to Austin on Monday, I thought it would be a good idea to pop up to Boston to teach a couple of workshops on Saturday. Why? Because I’m a glutton for punishment! No, actually, and perhaps strangely, I’m considering it a mini-vacation. A moving vacation, more specifically, since I get to ride a train and have nearly 8 hours to myself to do with what I wish. That’s about 6.5 hours more than I’ve had in a long time. On the trip so far, I’ve slept, read a magazine, planned classes, written this blog, caught up on emails, and simply stared out the window, enjoying the passing views of the verdant Hudson Valley.  This may sound like a lot, but these were all things I felt like doing, and they’ve brought me heartfelt pleasure. Virginia Woolf once said, “A woman must have money and a room of her own, if she is to write fiction.” I think that sentiment extends to both genders. No matter who you are, in order to create, you need resources. And one integral requirement of creative freedom is space. This doesn’t mean just a physical space, but some kind of spiritual “room”–an expanse within. This is where your spirit can dance with abandon as you gift yourself the chance to decide what to create next, instead of having your next move dictated by the pressures of time, relationships, and responsibility. The funny thing is, we yogis learn that in order to expand, we must first draw inward. We have to contain ourselves, plug our pranic leaks, and stop existing solely in other people’s rooms if we are to truly live in our own. This practice of self-regulating the balance between giving and receiving helps us stay focused not only on sharing with others, but on keeping what we need. In this way, we cultivate moksha , or being free from stress and suffering, but to me, also means having the freedom to access the soul, and from there, to express oneself completely and without regret.   This is often what stepping onto the mat means to me. It’s a magic carpet ride to new adventures as I remember and reveal the most vital parts of myself. No phones ring, no flight times loom, no partners or students need my attention. Sometimes I feel guilty for wanting this time to myself, this room of my own. After all, I love my loved ones and enjoy my job. As a centered-living teacher, I should be able to exist in peace within the chaos and pull of the outer world, right? Well yes, and no. I find that in order to give the quality of attention that my projects and interactions deserve, I simply must take physical, mental, or emotional retreats at regular intervals. Otherwise, I risk burnout. Whether it’s a nap, a walk in the park, a long bath, or a train ride, I’m careful to immerse in the luxury of being totally Self-centered. Then, once I’m ready to re-engage with the world, I have all the more to offer the next time an offering is called for.      All too often, we wait until we are at the end of our ropes, frazzled and spent, before we’ll use those vacation days or get a massage. Sometimes it takes illness or fatigue to force us to pause and get some much needed rest. As practitioners of a conscious path, I invite each of us to do better than that. Let’s look for daily opportunities to invoke freedom: to withdraw, conserve, and nourish our bodies, hearts, and minds. If chances for restoration are lacking in your life, build a room of your own with the tools gathered from your yoga practice: the wisdom to know when to go and when to stop, and the inner strength to create the boundaries needed to literally make peace with–and within–your life. Core Pose: Ustrasana (Camel Pose) with Arm Stretch Here’s an asana that helps me invite moksha into my day by shaking off the constrictions of tension in my body or on some other level. Kneel at the front of your mat with your knees slightly separated. Reach one hand back onto the floor or a block. Exhale fully and firm your belly. As you inhale, press your fingertips into the mat and circle your other arm up and back beside your ear. At the same time, lengthen your tailbone and pull your navel in and up as you lift your hips (a little or a lot, depending on your flexibility) and wave your spine towards a heart-opening backbend. Refrain from dropping your head back; keep the neck curve naturally long and supported. Exhale, return your hips to your heels, and bring the opposite hand behind you to repeat on the other side. Aim for 5-10 repetitions of this pose then fold forward into Child’s Pose for one minute.      

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A Room of One’s Own

1.Do your hamstrings become close to the same length at any point? 2. Have you found clothes that contain your gut while doing Downward Dog? (Perhaps you don’t have a gut anymore.) 3. How long did it take you to get the bandha thing going? 4. (This is directly related to #3) Can you lift your bum and legs off the ground when doing Uttitha Padmasana? How long did it take you to learn that?  (Are your arms disproportionately long by any chance?) 5. Has anyone ever snapped a hip in two doing Pigeon Pose?   6. Do you like yourself more, now, than you did before starting yoga? (I do, for the most part. Something to do with the daily determination to be kind to myself, I suspect.) 7. Do you fantasize about teaching yoga? Classes at sunrise? In temples? In India? (If you currently teach yoga in temples in India, do you fantasize about teaching yoga at sunset in Machu Picchu?) I do. I have long, flowing hair and long, flowing hamstrings in these fantasies. 8. Does yoga elbow its way into all of your conversations? (For example, your dentist says you need to replace a crown. You say, that reminds me of forward bends in class today. Your dentist doesn’t understand.)  Most of the people in my life hope this wears off at some point.  9.  Do you still love it?  As much as you did when you were new? That last one is the one that matters to me most. I’d love to hear that it’s possible to love this for the rest of my life. Thanks to yoga for inspiring questions, and thanks to you for the conversation.

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Questions for Yogi Experts

  Now that Lucien is two-and-a-half, friends and acquaintances are starting to ask me whether we’re planning to have another baby. It’s something I’ve been thinking about at least five times a day-okay, maybe ten. Lucien is growing up, already more a boy than a baby. No more nursing, no more carrying him in a carrier like my newborn kangaroo.  Lots of mothers I know with kids Lucien’s age are already pregnant, or home with new babies.  In Lucien’s music and art classes several moms are on maternity leave with their infants, juggling toddlers and newborns. Mothers in his morning daycare (that just ended) are starting to show, too. Each time I bring another bag of Lucien’s clothes upstairs to the storage closet, I wonder if I’ll ever need these baby things again, or if I should give everything away now.   It was difficult for Neil and me to have Lucien. A miscarriage, years of trying, an international adoption application process, acupuncture, fertility treatments…. I know there are many of you out there who can relate. Dare we test fate and try again? Could we handle the disappointment if it didn’t work out? Could I handle going through it all again and this time with an energetic toddler? In yoga we learn will full intention without concern for results, but it is really tough to apply when talking about offspring. And it’s not just that. As much as I love spending most of my time with Lucien, there’s another part of me. The me who wants to start writing another book, the me who wants to delve deeper into my yoga practice-maybe even study with the Iyengar family in Pune, India in a few years-the me that wants to travel the world.  These are all things I can imagine doing with Lucien, but I’m not sure if I could manage making these dreams come true with two children. Dreaming big is important, but so is being practical, and Neil and I have only so much in the way of energy and emotional, not to mention financial, resources. Besides, we both feel more than santosha , contended, by our band of three. And then I think of babies…. And how Lucien’s presence in our lives is the very best blessing, the most meaningful experience imaginable. Much more precious than any book, trip, or retreat.   Maybe it’s ultimately a question of being in the moment. Perhaps now is my time for young children and bathtub Saturday nights, for early morning wake ups and squeezing in my yoga practice and writing when I can. There will be time later for books and India, for work and alone time, for sleep. And yet, I can’t deny the side (is this what it means to hold the opposites in yoga?) of me that’s ready to move on from babies and into the world of three-and-four-year-olds, with kindergarten looking like a finish line of sorts. (Free childcare!  Six whole work hours a day!) On many days, one feels like the perfect number for us.   At age 38, with a history of difficulty getting pregnant, I can’t help but feel like it’s now or never. Can I make a decision and embrace it, either way? Or do I allow myself to remain ambivalent and process these feelings for another few months or year?    How did you decide to have — or not have – one more?  And how, if at all, did your dedication to yoga play a part in the decision?   Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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One More?

Getty Images Starting you kids out young in yoga sounds like a great idea, but would you bring your child to a hot yoga class? In case you haven’t heard, Bikram’s self-proclaimed “torture chambers” are a series of twenty-six postures in a 104-degree room for 90 minutes. It is an extreme workout. Instructors say it’s natural to feel nauseous, dizzy and maybe even black out. This blogger from MomLogic.com starts investigating after a mother brings her four-year-old to the weekend hot yoga class. “At the beginning of the class, this little yogi was trying each of the moves, naturally having trouble holding any pose. By 15 minutes into the class, the poor thing was playing with her water bottle, spraying herself and rolling around on her towel. I am in my mid-30s, and I can barely stay focused for the hour and a half. So I totally understood how this little one was bored out of her mind. As the class continued, she got up and down and tried more moves. Of course her mom kept trying to correct her, but the instructor insisted that she let her daughter learn on her own. Meanwhile, I was hot as hell and wondering, Is this healthy for the child? So of course, back at work, I just had to get an expert opinion. Pediatrician and momlogic expert Dr. Alanna Levine said the following: “I do not recommend that young children participate in Bikram yoga . Children handle high temperatures differently than adults. They have a higher surface-area-to-mass ratio, which means they absorb heat more than adults do. They also have a smaller blood volume, which makes it harder for them to dissipate the heat. Lastly, they have a slower rate of sweat production than adults, and sweating is a mechanism to cool us off. Children are not ‘mini adults’ — and should not be treated as such.” I thought it was only fair to call up the Bikram Yoga College of India and talk to someone there. Jessica, 32, has been a Bikram instructor since 2008. Here’s how our chat went: ml: Does Bikram have a minimum age requirement?  Jessica: There are no strict rules, as long as the child is quiet and well-behaved. There’s a youth category for the annual Bikram competition. Bikram, the founder, has three children, and they all started doing “hot yoga ” at a very early age. ml: How old was your youngest student ever? J: I haven’t have any younger than 9 or 10. Sometimes younger students wait outside during  the standing series and come in for the floor series. ml: How would you respond to our doctor’s claims that Bikram is unhealthy for kids? J: With any physical practice, you should have a doctor’s recommendation. A decision to do Bikram should be taken person by person. It’s case by case. What do you think? Do kids as young as 4 belong in a hot- yoga class? Have you ever brought your child to yoga ? What types of yoga are acceptable?” Read more here .

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Hot Yoga for Kids?

I think yoga is a sport, just like the World Cup. Hear me out. Tuesday was one of those days. I love yoga, love my home practice, love class, but there are some days, some weeks, even, when it all goes off the rails.   This is one of those weeks. I’ve been in hotels two weekends in a row, I’ve seen my share of drive-through windows over those weekends, and my hotel practice has been less thorough than my home practice. I’ve been away so much that my dog rolls her eyes when I come home. The result is that my body and spirit are tired, chunky, and unsociable.   It took Olympian determination to get myself to yoga class on Tuesday. It was touch-and-go all morning. I kept thinking, “I can go home for a break, I can eat, I can read, I can get some work done, I can sit here and stare out the window for an hour.” Most of these options looked much more appealing than going to class. (It’s possible some of you never feel this way. I am determined to like you anyway.) By the grace of Whatever, I get changed, get in my car, and drive to the studio. I lie down, and almost immediately I could cry, I am so happy. Class starts. My left hamstrings have shrunk considerably over the weekend, somehow, I have NO balance, my thighs and rear end burst at the inadequate seams of my formerly roomy yoga pants, and still there is no place I’d rather be. This is where the World Cup comes in.   When we go to class on these days, I think our teachers should welcome us at the door with big, glossy medals. “Would you like a medal today?”  “Yes,” I’d say. “Bronze, silver or gold?” “Are you joking? Do you have any idea how far I’ve come today?The French fries and pizza I have overcome, the hotel coffee, the hours in the car, the dog’s face, and lethargy the size of an oil spill? Give me the gold, absolutely. I am the champion of the world today.” There are days when we should all have medals around our necks. Thanks to yoga for making me show up, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, writer, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. KristinShepherd.

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Champion Yogis

I just did something so major I have to write it down to believe it. I’m relocating from New York City where I’ve lived and taught yoga for nearly a decade, to Austin, Texas. I’ve decided to relocate so that I can focus exclusively on my health, yoga, travel, and teaching for what I’m calling my yogi artist’s retreat year. After that, I’ll see where I am. The requirements of my burgeoning yoga career are intense, and living in a place like New York City doesn’t make things easy. For example, it took me 4 hours to drive 11 miles to the airport the other day, only to miss my flight. Total cost: $1,600. Austin has a shuttle that goes from my new apartment to the airport in 10 minutes. Total cost: 50 cents. I kid you not. Now, don’t get me wrong. Just like the T-shirts say, I (heart) New York. That’s why I’ve lived there for so long. But it’s time for a change, and specifically, I’m interested in what will happen to my yoga trajectory when I steep in it fully for a good period of time. This will be a Dharma Immersion, if you will. At first, I was torn about whether or not to make such a radical move. So I practiced what I teach. I put fears and judgments aside and thought about what would serve my ultimate goals the best. Right now, I require ease of travel; a location that is equidistant to both coasts and the flyover states; an affordable apartment with enough space for me to film my YouTube and training videos; and a community that values health, good food, and good yoga. A creative environment and a lack of traditional winter weather is just icing on the cake.   For these reasons and more, Austin was an obvious choice for me. The cool thing is, once I chose it, I was surrounded by so many universal green lights that I have to believe the signs are pointing me on the road I’m meant to take now. Before I was a yogi, I would have shut myself down before I ever began this journey. I probably would never have left the safety of the Midwest to try my luck in the Big Apple, or taken any of the risks that have brought me to where I am now. Yoga teaches us how to step out of our own way, remove the veils of uncertainty, and quiet the voices that tell us we’re insane to do what we are being called toward. If we can turn down the volume of our fears, it’s possible to hear that still, powerful whisper of our satya , or truth; that core voice that can move us toward transformation. We do this through cultivating a regular asana practice so our limiting patterns don’t build up and slow us down. We learn to sit in meditation and listen intently until we hear only our inner guide and not the confusing cacophony that surrounds it. We implement our lessons off the mat, do our best to be brave, and lead by example into our next incarnation of who we want to be. Most of all, when grounding is called for, we ground, and when flying beckons, we find out how wide our wingspan really is. The yogi is a shapeshifter, an energetic alchemist who uses the raw materials of experience, relationship, self-knowledge, and prana (life force) to create magic out of what others see as a static reality. Is it the perfect choice for me to take a year in Austin? Perhaps not. Staying in the city has its benefits, too. But we can always go back to what we know. So why not try going forward? Yes, it takes a big leap of faith sometimes. But we yogis have that in spades, y’all. So what is your dharma calling you to do next? Core Pose: “First Eye” Goddess This asana is one I teach and do whenever I want to envision my next move. It stimulates the forehead center, the seat of our intuition, and expands perspective away from the constriction of fear. This is why I call it the First Eye. It’s a primary tool of perception, your mind’s eye, and keeping it wide open will serve you well as you navigate your next steps along your path. Sit on your mat. Bring both feet together, knees open wide. With a long spine, tilt your sacrum and top hip crests forward as you bring your elbows onto the floor or two yoga blocks. Place your thumbs inside your eyebrows, just above your nose. Allow your forehead to release towards the thumbs even as you maintain the open hips and spinal alignment of the rest of the pose. Breathe here for 1-2 minutes, and then come into knees-together Child’s Pose for a few breaths to counterbalance the asana.  

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Moving Forward

  I’m writing this post from Fairburn Farm on Vancouver Island, a working farm and guest retreat where Neil and I have brought Lucien for a week-long summer holiday. The farm is a bucolic, heavenly spot just a ferry ride from our house in Vancouver. The views of forest and mountain and sky from the windows of the cottage we’re staying in are spectacular, but the real reason we’re here, for our third summer in a row, is the food. The guest operation is run by chef Mara Jernigan, sometimes called the Alice Waters of Vancouver Island. Meals here are a true farm-to-table experience. Breakfast is a two course affair starting with to-die-for homemade granola and berry compote, followed by omelets (with eggs and herbs from the farm, and cheese by local artisans) or frittatas or light-as-air pancakes. Dinner stretches out for hours, with each plate a celebration of local, fresh ingredients: sockeye salmon cakes with lentils and greens and green goddess dressing; rich risotto or homemade pasta or fresh from the brick oven pizza; strawberry tarts and (if it’s hot) refreshing sorbets. For lunch (which Mara doesn’t serve) we stop at a bakery in town where they mill their own grain, and bring the bread to the cheese shop next door for sandwiches that we take on a walk into a nearby park.   It’s an idyllic week, and I’m so glad I’m at a place in my life where I can enjoy it. It’s taken me a long time to get comfortable with food indulgences like this. As mentioned previously, I struggled with food issues, and my body image, for years.   When I got serious about yoga in my late twenties, I lost the weight I’d accumulated over the course of my unhappy childhood, and finally learned to eat and like healthy foods. My diet came to consist of brown rice, tofu, vegetables, black beans, and fruit–great stuff. But I soon came to be overly attached to healthy eating. If I was traveling and what I normally ate wasn’t available, I freaked out. If I gave in to temptation and ate a chocolate chip cookie, or a scoop of ice cream, or a slice or two of pizza–even if these were made lovingly with high-quality ingredients–I felt that I’d slipped, and worried that I’d backslide and return to a regularly scheduled program of unhealthy eating and ten to forty extra pounds.   This made travel-and even eating out at new places-hard. It was no fun when I showed up at Thanksgiving dinner or a Passover Seder or even a dinner party petrified of three quarters of the menu.  Or when I’d have a panic attack about “getting fat” on an otherwise romantic (and of course bread filled) trip to Paris with my husband.   As a new mom, I resolved to approach food differently. I didn’t want the scale, or my fears, to rule my life anymore–or our family vacations.  As I practiced more yoga, and studied yoga philosophy, I came to realize that my food fears weren’t in keeping with yoga after all.  The Yoga Sutras say moderation is key, as is non-attachment (in this case to the precise number on the scale.) Becoming nearly phobic about fattening food was embodying neither principle. Through a process of self-study, and the help of a good therapist, I changed. Now I eat healthy most of the time–and enjoy to the utmost the occasional treat.   What indulgences make your life a pleasure? What do you still struggle with when it comes to food and body image? And, how do you model a healthy relationship with food for your child/children? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Food Loving Yogi

Sting just started out for a summer tour, and, unfortunately, the only buzz we keep hearing is about this mysterious scandalous tantra stuff. Allow Sting and his wife, Trudie Styler, to explain themselves in Yoga Journal ’s exclusive interview . Stephanie Syman, author of The Subtle Body: The Story of Yoga in America , also plans to set the tantric-yoga record straight once and for all in her Wall Street Journal blog: “Traditionally, Tantra refers to a loose and varied collection of practices detailed in the Tantras (Indic texts). Some of its most salient features are secrecy and worship of the female principle. The feature that has most intrigued and shocked observers–both Indian and Western–is that Tantra enjoins the aspirant to either visualize sex or engage in acts of ritual intercourse. The purpose of this conjugation, often depicted as the union of Siva and Shakti, is to reach Samadhi, a blissful state of consciousness devoid of any sense of personal identity. Succeed, and not only do you turn your mind into a “point of awareness,” as Ram Dass once put it, you obtain special powers (siddhis). You could say that we’re all Tantrics now since the most popular form of yoga today, Hatha Yoga, has been a central feature of Tantric practice, and its creators were affiliated with Tantric sects. But as with most cultural imports, our assimilation of Tantra has involved equal parts interpretation and invention. No wonder. Tantric practice is no quick route to sexual gratification. It’s traditionally demanding, complicated, highly formalized, and at times, tedious. And only some types of Tantrics (known as “left-handed”) engage in ritual sex at all. Tantra then presents a paradox: it can involve sex and yet its prerequisites mitigate the pleasure. And while you may enhance sexual performance via Tantric practices, the goal is not to get good at sex, the goal is to alter your consciousness so radically that embodied existence is no longer relevant.” Still curious? Read Todd Jones’ The Truth About Tantra. Erin Chalfant is a writer, yoga teacher and the Web Editor at Yoga Journal.

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Truly Tantric

I’m in Austin, Texas, and last night took a lovely yoga class at Black Swan Yoga. Hillary, the instructor, said something so simple, it was profound. After a difficult Eka Pada Koundinyasana (Pose Dedicated to the Sage Koundinya) variation, which we were attempting during heat and humidity that created a slip-n-slide situation, we returned to a democratic Downward-Facing Dog. As we recovered, Hillary said, “If you were struggling in that last pose, then it’s good it’s over. You don’t have to think about it anymore, because it’s not happening now.” I know that I’ve said and heard countless variations on that theme in yoga classes I’ve taught and attended. Yet something about the straightforwardness with which Hillary spoke made it seem so simple to just let go of the past and along with it, all the weighty entanglements of suffering, guilt, and instant replays. Trying to change the past by keeping it running on a constant mental and emotional loop can end up frittering away your prana , or life force. Likewise, when you jet off into any scenario–imaginary or already played-out– than what is really happening in the here and now, I call it time-traveling.  We time-travel on the mat too, like when you mentally tell off an ex-boyfriend while in Crow Pose or go over your grocery list in Savasana. The danger in always traveling into what has been or what might never be, is that you lose the sensitivity it takes to stay in communication with your core wisdom. That root awareness can only reveal itself when you drop the baggage you’re carrying and turn all your attention toward accessing the tools you have right where you stand. At first when Hillary made that statement, I thought, “Yeah, easy to say, Sister, but try doing it.” Then I remembered one day a few years back. I was standing in the subway, having recently gone through a major breakup, and my heart was hurting. The world seemed colorless and tasteless, and still, everything stung. For no reason at all, I wondered why I was feeling so bad. Was it inevitable? Or was it a choice I was making?  I decided to see if I could put my broken heart on hold, enjoy a day out in the big city, and come back to the processing part later on. In literally one instant, my pain disappeared. Gone, nada , zip. I felt free, light, and happy to be alive and experiencing all that was in front of me. I had a wonderful time before, a little while later, I decided to re-enter the growth process, a sensation that would never again be as cutting or make me feel as helpless as when I thought I had no control over it. I didn’t know that it was possible to allow myself to step into the present so fully as to be immune from the poison of confusion and regret. I’ve employed this skill many times since, and you can, too. It’s as close as a decision, as gentle as an allowing, and as natural as relaxing into being who you want to be, right this minute. Yogis call this process dharana , or concentration. It requires pratyahara , sense withdrawal, another yogic skill of reigning yourself in from obsessively poring over the past or future, and from leaking your chi, or energy. I also call it core power, and when you practice using it to become victorious over the time-traveling mind and tidal heart, you will see more clearly, and without judgment, how you wish to proceed in the only time period that you can do anything about–the one you’re in. Sometimes even teachers need teachers to remind us of this. Here’s a pose variation that can quickly return you to the present; one that gets you grounded plus gives you a taste of all the strength and vitality you hold at center. From there, no matter how life comes at you, you can choose to come right back out at it with compassion, wisdom, and grace. Core Pose: “Core” Ardha Chandrasana (Half Moon Pose) Stand with your feet about two fists-width apart. Bend your knees and reach your right fingertips diagonally out away from your right foot, wider than the right shoulder, and press them into the mat. At the same time, press your right foot into the ground strongly. On an exhalation, draw your left knee into your chest using your low belly to draw in and up toward your sternum. Begin to stack your left hip on top of the right and unfurl your left arm to the sky. Inhale as you maintain the tone in your abdominal muscles, and begin to lengthen your bent, left leg out behind you until it is parallel to the floor. Your bottom leg can remain bent or, if your flexibility allows, straighten it. Keep your standing leg firm and foot rooted even as you draw into and express from your center in the pose. Do 3-5 repetitions on this side then bring both feet back down into the starting position. Take a gentle forward fold, clasping opposite elbows. Find your Earth-to-core connection and repeat the pose on the left side.  

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Stop Time-Traveling

Two fantastic things occurred over the last 24 hours. 1. We experienced an earthquake yesterday. Very exciting. It lasted 26 seconds. The dog growled for a few seconds, and the antennae on the TV shook for a full minute. In fact, the quake shook much of the province, which was wonderful, because it led to phone calls with my mother in Ottawa and my sister in Toronto. It’s the kind of thing everyone wants to talk about.  2. I tried naked yoga this morning. My goal was to last longer than 26 seconds. There is no doubt I was shaken more by the naked yoga than the quake. If you haven’t tried it, if your dad is British, say, and you’re uneasy in short sleeves, if you wear flannel clown pants to bed every night and peel your socks off during the middle of the night as you become unbearably hot–if you do all of that–well, we can talk. (If this isn’t you and you’re the type who goes naked to the movies, you have no idea what I’m talking about. In my next life I’ll be just like you.) The first 26 seconds are spent dismayed by the complex surface of my thighs, which look as though they have undergone several earthquakes of their own. Then I forget about them, perhaps because it is hotter this morning than it’s been all summer, and as humid as cottage cheese. My first forward bend makes me sweat. I make it to 40 minutes, naked. I put my clown pants back on for seated postures, to avoid rug burn, I say to myself. I conclude that this naked thing is no big deal. And then something unexpected happens. I move off the rug and onto the wood floor for Savasana. And, oh, oh, oh, the floor is as cool as ice cream on my poached back, so cool that I take my clown pants off again for the last couple of minutes. I press my low back into the floor and when I relax it makes a deep, suction-y, rumbling, farting sound that is the best thing I have EVER heard during my practice.  A soft, funny earthquake of my very own. I am CERTAIN you have things to teach me about your naked (or not) home practice. My ears are quaking. Thanks to earthquakes, to cool floors, and to you for the conversation. Join Kristin at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at http://kristinshepherd.ca

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An Earth Moving Experience

As our nation turns to backyards, barbecues, burgers, bright colors and explosions in the sky, it seems appropriate to celebrate independence in a personal way as well. Perhaps with some yoga? Independence. Freedom. Liberation. Moksha. Most cultures take time to celebrate a form of letting go and feeling open and alive to possibility, and it seems the height of summer is the perfect time for this expression. Your pores are open and warmed by the sun, encouraging your body to release, the days are long and, in most places, the weather is inviting.  What do we, in this modern day, need to do to disentangle ourselves from our oppressors?  What are our oppressions anyway, and why do we feel tangled in the first place? Yoga can help answer all of the above. I woke up with Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” in my head: “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds.” This will be my mantra in practice this weekend. Any obstacle I perceive has been placed there by me, and I can also choose to remove it. My morning yoga practice, of course, will be my revolution. Today I celebrate independence from the mind stuff, vritti .  I will not allow myself to be worried about the extra traffic caused on a Friday before a holiday weekend…or the longer lines at the grocery store, or the wait at the bank or how crowded it will be at the park and the beach. These things are fun and they are choices. I will enjoy my liberation with breath, movement, and maybe a little reggae. How will you liberate yourself this weekend? Check out the accidental yogist if you’re in SoCal and looking for studios that are celebrating their independence. Erin Chalfant is a writer, yoga teacher and the Web Editor at Yoga Journal.

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Independence Day

I was out at lunch with a friend in Brooklyn the other day. She’s Israeli, and she enjoys teaching me Yiddish words that seem random. (Like the word for suspenders, or shleykes .) I was telling her about my decision to spend the rest of 2010 engaged in a hugging practice. For the first half of the year, I toured like crazy, a rewarding yet hectic experience of meeting students and studio owners across the country. For the next few months, and into 2011, I’m going to hug in, or streamline and focus as much as possible, on what positively serves my goals of teaching Core Strength principles to people. And I intend to limit the things that drain my energy unnecessarily so that I have more quality instruction to share when I do teach. “Gurnisht!” my friend interjected. “What?” I replied. She explained that in Yiddish, this word means “done” or “a decision made.” That’s it, that’s all, that’s all she wrote. Gurnisht is what we do whenever we choose not to participate in something in favor of doing something else. Yogis go a step further, We aim to bring a consciousness and compassion to our choices, so the decisions we make end up helping us to stay healthy and balanced, with energy to give to the important projects and relationships that nourish us in return. I know that, for me at least, it’s much easier to say yes than to say no. It’s uncomfortable to disappoint people. It’s also intense to keep energy inside that could have gone out to something or someone else, as anyone knows who has ever held Chair Pose for what seems like an eternity instead of running screaming out if the room. The key to balance is to know when a yes or a no will best serve your highest good. Often, my students express anxiety about saying no, because it feels like a negative thing. Well, it inherently is, and yet when we realize that a boundary can be as positive as an offering, our perspective of saying gurnisht might also shift. After all, without banks, a river becomes a stagnant swamp. If we truly want to move anything forward in our lives, it’s important to first identify the areas to which we want to give our commitments. Then, the borders we build with the solidity of our focus around those agreements encourage our energy to flow forward into action. Over time, these positive habits carve a path toward our preferred creations, careers, loves, and life choices. This sounds great, but it is supremely challenging to do, whether you’re saying yes to a wonderful opportunity or no to participating in relationships or responsibilities that take you off track of what you wish to cultivate. Understanding when to employ agreement or denial is a skill we use each time we step onto the mat. In our asanas, in any given moment, we get chances to hug in or expand in infinite ways: Do you want to express outward into Full Wheel or back off in Bridge Pose to protect an injured shoulder or to save energy? Through refining our choices based on what we think will empower our ultimate harmony of sthira-sukha , or steadiness and ease, we learn how to more easily navigate the constant stream of requests coming from within and, once we move off the mat, from the outside world. One could even say that sthira is our no, and sukha is the freedom and joy of our big yes that sthira helps to make possible. After all, there can hardly be one without the other. In our poses and in our lives, we employ not only conscious yeses, but conscious nos. Yoga teaches us that when you choose your dharma, and step into the current of your highest expression of health and happiness, freedom and delight, you undeniably serve the highest good of everyone else around you. Think about that for a moment. We yogis know that even though good is served doesn’t mean it will feel good to say no to drama and yes to our dharma. At times, moving toward our own truth can cause anger, fear, insecurity, and pain–for others and for ourselves. When your heart and your core tell you that it’s time to hug in, and say “no more” to leaking your attention and prana (life force)–instead making room for freedom from suffering and freedom to be yourself–remember the principle of gurnisht and don’t do it! Core Pose: Half Chaturanga Dandasana Just because this is half a Chaturanga doesn’t mean it’s not fully challenging. I see so many students rushing or collapsing through full Chaturanga, and they flirt with shoulder, elbow and wrist strain, instead of reaping the core and arm-strengthening benefits of the pose. This variation will help you back off to go deeper. Coming into effective alignment and generating the freedom of more power and safety means you have to create boundaries all around the pose. Begin in Plank Pose, fingers wide, palms and fingertips grounding. Place your knees down on the mat, not under the hips, but farther back. Remain lifted at the navel with a long tailbone and spine. Reach your chest forward between the upper arms without sinking toward the floor and winging the shoulder blades; they stay firmly on your back. Hug your elbows in, not squeezing the ribs but also not leaking energy by opening too wide. Keep the elbows directly over your wrists. On an exhalation, float your heart forward to maintain the vertical line of your forearms, push the floor with your hands, pull up the side waists and lower belly, and begin to lower, by about 2 to 4 inches. Resist the urge to go to as far as full Chaturanga. Staying higher will keep you working from the belly, or center, of your muscles, so you gain tone instead of stressing connective tissue and joints. Try 3-5 repetitions, holding each Half Chaturanga for 1-3 breaths. Press back into Child’s Pose and rest for 1 minute after your last pose.  

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Hugging in–and saying No

The sigh with the first sip of coffee. The click of my mug when I set it on the coffee table. The grunt when I realize my left hamstrings are still half the length of my right hamstrings. Ujjayi breathing, when I remember to do it. Seagulls squawking outside. The yeah! yeah! yeah! I say under my breath with my handstand and anything resembling a back bend. Heaving groans that ease their way into regular breaths during side twists. The big, fat sighs that settle me into Savasana. Shanti, shanti, shanti, which I whisper to the lake (don’t know why I whisper at home). The tickety-tickety-tickety of Rosie, my dog, who hears me whisper and comes to join me after her own upward dog, downward dog series. It’s worth it just for the sounds, isn’t it? What are your favorites?   Thanks to yoga for the sounds and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, writer, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Please join me at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. KristinShepherd.

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The Sounds of Yoga

In the midst of wedding season, it seems like a good time to think about what we are committing to when we gaze longingly at our mat or wish we had more time for Namaskar-ing at sunset. In chapter five of the Bhagavad Gita : “The resolute in yoga surrender and gain perfect peace; the irresolute, attached to results, are bound by everything they do.” So, we’ve got to resolutely let go? Sounds tricky. Even if we can conceptualize this, how is it applied and how do we live this truth on and off the mat? Susan Piver at the Huffington Post seems to have hit it right on the yoga toes. Not sure if she does asana on a mat, but she certainly sounds like a yogi in this reflective blog written on her twelfth wedding anniversary. “It’s just now, 12 years later, that I’m finding out what, apparently, I said yes to. I said yes to the unfolding, impenetrable arc of uncertainty. I guess I thought that finding love was an endpoint, that some kind of search was over and I would find home. We would leap over the threshold together into whatever we imagined our ideal cottage to be. But really we stepped through a crazy looking glass. It seems that I committed to a lifetime of delight and sadness, inseparable from each other. Every time I look into my dear one’s eyes and feel how deeply we’re connected, the moment disappears before I can actually hold it–and I have to watch that happen. It’s excruciating. It’s much easier to do this with your thoughts when you’re meditating than with the feeling you get from his breath on your shoulder as you fall asleep. But now I get that I have to repeat this until the end of my life, and that somehow this is love’s road. I didn’t really understand that love does not arise, abide, or dissolve in connection with any particular feeling. It has almost nothing to do with feeling. (Nor does it seem to be a gesture, a commitment to stay, becoming best friends, or anything else I might have thought.) Love has become a container in which we live. Through time, riding mysterious waves of passion, aggression, and ignorance (and boredom), I think we began to live within love itself. At least I did. E ach time I have opened up, extended myself, accepted what was being offered to me, stepped beyond my comfort zone to embrace him, the structure has been reinforced. I no longer have any idea if I love my husband or not. I can’t imagine what the feelings I have for him could be called. I’ve even given up trying to love him. Our relationship is what gives us love, not the other way around. This is how it is. And if you’re looking for a crucible in which to heat compassion, this is a really good one. Someone once told me that compassion is the ability to hold love and pain together in the same moment. So at least we’re learning something, which is what I tell myself. When you find your true love, there is something inside that simply and inexplicably says hello to him. Yes to him. Of course to him. Certainly. Obviously it’s you. There is no choice. I do.” Are you ready to commit or re-commit to your practice?  What poses do you use to remind yourself to commit to surrender? I like Ardha Chandrasana for this balance. Whether you’re getting married this summer, attending a commitment ceremony or finaly ready to take the leap with yoga, this article on celebrating with meaning may help get you in the mood. Erin Chalfant is a writer, yoga teacher and the Web Editor at Yoga Journal.

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I do Yoga

  I just got back from Feathered Pipe Ranch in Montana–my first-ever time away from Lucien and first out-of-town yoga workshop in years. When I got there I had a bad headache and a guilty conscience. Had I made a huge mistake in leaving my two-and-a-half year-old son? Was I a bad parent for ditching him while doing something–studying yoga–that was all about me? How would Neil and Lucien manage to survive a day without me, much less five?   Sure, I was there to study with one of my favorite yoga teachers in the world, Marla Apt. Yes, Neil and Lucien are as close as could be and Neil had half convinced me that I deserved this break. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow wrong for me to be there.   Then we began to practice. Three hours of asana in the morning, two and half hours in the afternoon of asana and pranayama, with time in between and after class to read, think, meditate, talk to Marla and the other yogis, and just be.   Marla is a gifted and generous teacher. Her sequences are magical, her instructions brilliant, her adjustments incredibly insightful. During our time together my asana practice took a serious leap forward. I came to remember something, too: how important asana is to me. As much as I treasure everything else yoga has brought me closer to–yoga philosophy, conscious living and parenting, healthy eating, the creative life–yoga asana is the daily tonic I need in order to make all that possible.   Each day at the ranch I felt calmer, more open, freer. My headache disappeared and my tense shoulders became soft. My guilty conscience eased. I felt more like me. I promised myself then and there I’d rededicate myself to my home practice and my weekly classes with my wonderful Vancouver teacher Louie Ettling in Vancouver. I also vowed to continue studying with Marla whenever possible.   By the way, Lucien and Neil did great. My “baby” didn’t cry once over his missing Mommy as I’d worried he might. According to Neil, whenever my name came up Lucien would smile and say “Momma’s at a yoga retreat! In Montana! Downward dog!” The truth is Lucien loves his Daddy, and feels just as comfortable with him as he does with me.    When the retreat was over, Neil and Lucien picked me up at the airport in Vancouver. “Momma!” Lucien said, and hugged me tight. “You seem so much lighter,” Neil said when he saw me, with a kiss.  I was beaming, breathing, easier in my body than I’d been in a long time.  And committed to staying that way. Do you make enough time for yourself? What part of you practice needs re-commitment? Sharing here may help you keep your intention!   Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Re-committed to Yoga

Yesterday morning, sitting at my desk, hard at work, I would have never predicted that by late afternoon I’d be sitting on a boat with Yogic Arts creator Duncan Wong, eating watermelon and floating down the Hudson River. But that’s exactly what happened. That morning, my manager, Ava, called, inviting me to hop aboard the meditation and reiki cruise that Captain Ike and his Spirit Seeker Journeys crew does weekly. “Get to the boat basin at 79th Street,” she said. “Life awaits!” At first I said no. I had far too much business to attend to, I was comfortably at home with my tea, my computer, and Google, and it seemed unfathomable to peel myself out of the chair and make such a big trek. Not to mention that getting from Brooklyn to some uptown Manhattan dock during rush hour is an almost impossibly long journey. When I hung up the phone, though, I began to reconsider. I could always work, but a boat, a willing captain, and an available body of water is not always as easy to find.  I took a deep breath, got up, and went to find my sunblock. When I got to the boat, I was pleased to see Duncan and Ava there, along with some new friends and yoga teachers I looked forward to getting to know. And bond we did. The day was gorgeous, our ravenous yogi appetites cleared out Captain Ike’s cupboards, and we had so much fun that a scheduled 7:30pm return became 11:30pm!  It was a special day, magical even, and lying on the deck watching the moon hide and reappear between skyscrapers, I was so thankful I’d chosen sailing over Googling. I realized that as yoga practitioners, we have more choices than we might think about the quality with which we live our lives. It’s so easy to fall into our samskaras , mental and emotional patterns that can drive the habitual actions and default settings we’ve been doing for so long. Sometimes it’s like we’re on we’re on autopilot, and that the way we’re living is the only reality there is. But once in a while, we get the opportunity to choose again, to broaden our perspective of what our day could be like, or how our lifestyles, our relationships, careers and ways of perceiving the world could be brighter, more abundant, and could serve us in the absolute best ways possible.  Sometimes I hear myself saying “no” to the unknown adventures that might be found on a different track, because I think, “I can’t possibly do that.” My rational mind then proceeds to tell me why. Well, what if, just once in a while, we let our spirits answer with the big “Yes” born of the question: “Why not ?”  Doing exactly that yesterday, instead of returning phone calls a little faster or making my deadlines a little earlier, manifested a memory I will cherish for a lifetime. After all, life isn’t always going to give us the peace and happiness we want. Sometimes we have to create it from the inside out by doing something revolutionary. So, next time you find yourself deep in a samskara that might be comfortable but not pushing you to be as powerful and vital as you’d like to be, see if you can jump out and say “Yes!” to something radical, exciting, and new.  After all, life awaits. Core Pose: Shakti Kicks I call these Shakti Kicks in honor of the creative fire they spark at your center. If you want to bust out of a rut, this energetic pose is a fast-track to transformation! I use it to help students strengthen the upper body for arm balances and inversions as they practice courage and the hugging into center it takes to re-track towards power and grace. Note: You don’t have to kick this high. I encourage you to start very mindfully, going slower and lower than you might think you can. All my asanas are built from the ground up, specifically to give you the best chance to remain in the integrity of your body’s healthy structure and respect your individual process, even as you’re moving and growing in the pose. So try little hops, and chip away at this pose until you are going farther but still in full alignment. From Down Dog, firm your fingertips into the floor and walk your feet together. Press your big toe mounds into a bandha , or lock. This activates your inner thighs and keeps your legs hugging in for more control as you hop. Bend your knees on an inhalation and look forward between your hands. Draw up through your lower belly as you take small or larger hops. If you’re building strength, or if your wrists or shoulders won’t support hopping, then pretend to hop, grounding the hands down and lifting your hips higher with the low and mid abdominals on each exhale. Otherwise, aim your heels for the sitting bones and land with bent knees. As you hop, exhale strongly for more core support, and keep your shoulder blades naturally down the back even as your hands press into the floor.   Eventually, your hips may hover over your arms and you’ll be able to tuck your tailbone and lift your belly as you root down through your hands and set your feet down lightly. However, even if you’re kicking low, you can still find the dynamic earth-to-core connection that allows you to lighten your landings as you float between the hands. Try 5-10 kicks then fold forward for a few back-body stretching breaths in Uttanasana.      

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Saying Yes

I’m about to do something radical. Something I’ve never done  before. I’m about to pack my yoga mat, board a plane, and leave Lucien for five whole days while I go on a yoga retreat.  He’s two-and-a-half and we’ve never spent a night apart. Until a few months ago when we finished breastfeeding, going away without him wasn’t even an option. (I never managed to get the hang of pumping.) I can count on both hands the days we’ve been away from each other for more than seven or eight hours.  My husband Neil has been out of town a dozen times or more.  Not jetting off to a man spa or anything. But every month or two or three he gives a talk or has an academic conference or meeting to attend in Ann Arbor or Sweden or Atlanta.  Lucien and I hold down the fort here. Now it’s my turn. Thanks to my husband (and morning day-care plus a  babysitter) I’ll be studying for five days with one of my favorite  teachers, Marla Apt, at the Feathered Pipe Ranch in Montana. I’m elated–and scared, too.  Sure, Lucien and his dad are as close as can be, but will my baby be okay without his momma? As much as I want to go on the retreat, as eager as I am to study with Marla, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. The day I signed up for the trip I practically had a panic attack and needed Neil and  two of my best friends to convince me to buy my ticket. The truth is, while I’m worried about leaving Lucien and how much we’ll miss one another, I know he’ll be fine, more than fine with his dad. They’ll have a great time. And I’m longing for the chance to rediscover my yoga practice-and myself-while on the retreat. I love being a mom and I love the pace of life with a young child, but  I need a break. What I’m most looking forward to is the stillness, the alone time, not having to run to catch a bus after Savasana. But I’m going to miss my boy like crazy. I’ll let you know how it goes… What was it like the first time you spent a night or two away from  your child or children? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.  

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Feathered Pipe Retreat

All this World-Cup-inspired team spirit reignites the debate about yoga as a sport. Bikram has been lobbying for a Yoga Olympics for ages. One need only watch the New York Regional Yoga Championship video from New York Times to conclude that yoga is VERY challenging and amazingly beautiful and fun to watch. There are of course pros and cons to having all this attention in the yoga world. Those opposed say yoga cannot be judged and that doing so misses the point entirely. Supporters say exposure inspires children to get involved at a young age.   What do you think about yoga as a sport?  And what about some of these crazy poses…is that even good for you? More advanced poses here: Extreme Yoga Poses Join the debate: Can that be Good for You?!

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World Cup Yoga?

You’ve probably heard at least something about the record breaking three-day tennis math between the United States’ John Isner and France’s Nicolas Mahut, but you may not have heard about the interview with Isner where he clearly qualifies himself as a yogi–immersed in willful intention without concern for results. “Especially once the match got past, you know, 25-all, I wasn’t really thinking,” said Isner. “Hitting a serve and trying to hit a forehand winner is the only thing I was doing.” When it did conclude, Isner dropped down to the court, rolled on his back and kicked his legs in the air–sounds like Ananda Balasana (Happy Baby Pose) to us. And we aren’t the only ones feeling inspired by Isner’s presence; Matt Harvey has put out all call for people to tweet tennis inspired haikus to his account @wimbledonpoet. To watch highlights: ESPN Sports And to write a haiku about it: @wimbledonpoet

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John Isner: Yoga Champion

What’s with the naked theme? I write a blog about loving home practice, and you, some of you, write in that you love naked yoga. I write a blog about favorite poses, and you write in about naked yoga. I write a blog about meditation or chanting or acting, for goodness sake, and some of you (is it the same people? The Naked Yoga Alliance? I don’t know!) write back that you love naked yoga. Billy Connolly, the marvelous Scottish comedian, writes that he loves an ordinary love life with his wife. A meat-and-potatoes kind of lover, he is.  He’s all about comfort. It takes some self-assuredness to admit that. I feel that way about yoga. I love yoga in my flannel pajama bottoms. I start with two t-shirts and peel one off as I warm up. Sometimes I start in socks. This naked thing? I don’t know. It’d be like grocery shopping while naked, or bowling while naked, neither of which is ever going to happen, so don’t feel you should write in about those. Besides, where I live, anyone in a canoe can see me unless I downward dog in the dark.   All right, all right! I’ll try it. I’ll try it in the dark (by the park, for a lark, with a shark. I’m going all Dr. Seuss in my nervousness.). I’ll let you know how it goes. Thanks for the conversation, I think. Kristin Shepherd lives in North Bay, Ontario. She is a chiropractor, workshop facilitator, actor, writer, and parent of two grown children and a perpetually infantile dog.  Check her out, fully clothed, at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd. 

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Why Naked Yoga?

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.  

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The Great Rain-out

by Kathryn Budig I was so excited when Elena Brower, Goddess of yoga, invited me to demo at the maha event–Yoga in Central Park–but once I added up my financial sum for taking off, my numbers were looking dangerously high. Dismayed, but happy to stay off of a plane and knowing all is as it should be, I decided to watch the live stream from the genius boys at Yogaglo .  Soon after, thanks to the my home-away-from-home (aka my Facebook page) , I saw that Flavorpill was hosting two simultaneous events. One in Miami and one in Los Angeles with Tara Stiles. I shot Ms. Stiles an email and was RSVPed for some yoga poolside at The Standard hotel–yes, welcome to LA! I began my day at 4:30am; disgruntled to find that my green tea canister was empty. I chugged two glasses of water and took out my angst in the form of a Facebook update. The Om-tastic New Yorker, Cyndi Lee, comically replied, “5:30am? — green tea? — this is when I realize I don’t live in LA. Good luck!” I chuckled to myself thinking of the contrasts between this day in NYC vs. LA. Green tea, albeit healthy, does sounds a bit wimpy next to the vibrato of a black cup of coffee.   Then I thought of the yoga events.   Ten Thousand yogis gathering in the vast and majestic Great Lawn of Central Park, and where is the Los Angeles equivalent? Clearly, amongst scantily clad poolside peeps at a posh West Hollywood hotel. Hey, you’ve got to accept a person or place for exactly who or what it is, and Los Angeles–you certainly are pretty. Everyone was so pretty, in fact, that I wondered if the hotel hired True Blood physique-worthy people to lounge next to their pool to make it look good. Let’s not forget, Tara Stiles –our teacher for the event–is a Ford model. Very apropos. That said, Tara is a good midwestern girl who now resides in New York City with her studio, Strala.  Any midwesterner is a friend of mine, and upon meeting Tara in person, I was very pleased to feel her instant geniune warmth, love and goofiness. A true down-to-earth girl. We strolled gracefully (okay, I lugged my Manduka) past the pool, took off our sunglasses and decided whether we wanted sun or shade.  The group of roughly 30 people placed their mats, applied sun block, and the practice began. Tara led us through a well-rounded hour class with sun salutes, lunges, gentle twists, standing poses and time for inversions, backbends and some good hip loving. The initially too-hot sun felt amazing as we opened our hearts to a refreshing rooftop breeze to balance out the heat.   The facade of this event was tres LA, but the heart of the event was pure yoga. There is nothing more powerful than a group of people uniting to breathe with intention, to soak up the sun and learn how to light up from within. The irony is that the New York version of the solstice celebration of light was rained out. One big OM and a round of salutations was all they squeezed in before the show was shut down due to lightening. My intital reaction was sympathy for how frustrating that must have been. Then I laughed. Here I was, comparing Angeles to New York all day long.   Green tea verses black coffee.  A hip West Hollywood pool verses the vast green of Central Park. Sunglasses verses reading glasses. US magazine verses The New Yorker. Sun verses rain. What have I learned? Balance. We are all connected. Rain or shine, we are all yogis unified, coming together to show the world that yoga has the power to heal and change the world. Anyone can do yoga–in the park, at a pool, or even from a computer at home. All it takes is the will and intention to do so, and let me just say–10,000 yogis–that’s a pretty sight. Kathryn Budig is a Los Angeles yoga teacher and writer. Kathryn is an arm balance rockstar who teaches challenging vinyasa flow classes at Yoga Works.

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SoCal Solstice Celebration

Years ago, a friend named Tracy offered me an acting tip that has become part of every on-and-off-stage day of my life. It also affects my yoga. We were in a play called Good Night Desdemona. I had to travel through time each night by disappearing through an absurdly small garbage can into, well, into the past to meet both Desdemona and Juliet. I climbed towers, faught with swords, was nearly strangled by Desdemona, and iambic pentameter-ed my way through seven enormous monologues that would have humbled Hamlet. It was a monster of a challenge. On more than one night, I cursed myself for getting something wrong–missing lines, breaking my sword (tough to fight convincingly with a sword stump), not projecting my lines from under the pillow Desdemona used to suffocate me, etc. One night, Tracy (Desdemona) heard me whacking myself to smithereens at intermission. “No way,” she said. Gotta stop that. She said we can’t afford to criticize ourselves. It takes us out of our story, out of our best skills, and it ruins our relationship with other actors and our audience. It ruins our relationship with everything to come. Practice instant forgiveness, she says. It’s the best tool there is for an actor. Everything starts again now. This morning, in a seated forward bend, I thought, holy Toledo, my hamstrings are tight. Not enough yoga and too many butter tarts yesterday. (I don’t see the relationship between the two, now, but they felt completely connected this morning.) And right behind it, like a great actor on cue, I thought; instant forgiveness, honey. Everything starts again now. Which saved the show. Thanks to Tracy for the acting lesson, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin practices yoga, theatre, public speaking, writing, and chiropractic in North Bay, Ontario, at kristinshepherd.ca and at Dr. Kristin Shepherd on Facebook.

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Everything Starts Again Now

One of the world’s largest yoga classes proved also to be one of the shortest. An estimated 10,000 people showed up for yoga in Central Park on Tuesday only to find–mid Surya Namaskar–that lightning and rain would cut the solstice celebration short. Legendary yoga teacher Elena Bower lead the mass of yogis. Participants on the scene say even the rain and thunder could not dampen their moods or destroy their inner peace. One of the greatest things about yoga–and New York City–is its ability to unite young and old, and people from all parts of the city proudly waited in long lines for a chance at this great coming together of community in the park. As they waited, they did what yogis often do: yoga. In the end, the day will be remembered as yet another lesson in willful intention with non-concern for results. Aerial image by Geoffrey Goodridge / Michael O’Neill Photos by J oe Schildhorn/Patrick McMullan

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The Faces of Yoga in Central Park

Lucien and I made a trip to the naturopath a couple of weeks ago. Being in a doctor’s office for two hours with a two year old was quite a challenge, but it was worth it. (At my urging, Neil went a few days later.) Within days we’d each changed our diet pretty dramatically (no dairy for Lucien, no sugar for Neil, a liquid iron supplement for me, and much more protein for all of us) and added a regimen of pro-biotics, protein smoothies, and the like to our run of the mill multi-vitamins. We felt better almost immediately. In addition to the dietary changes and supplements, the naturopath (Kristen Brown at the Crossroads Center in Vancouver) suggested that one of the reasons we kept getting sick, as I described a couple of weeks ago, might be that we were all doing too much. Neil needed more sleep, she said. And my system seemed depleted from a three year period that included an IVF cycle, a pregnancy and c section, and two plus years of breastfeeding–all while writing a book, teaching classes, and providing most of Lucien’s daytime childcare. Not to mention moving to a new country. (Although props to Canada for making it possible for us to afford to see the naturopath; the visits will be reimbursed by our health insurance at an incredible 80%.) Was my body trying to tell me something?  Have I been doing too much?  Have we all been? On the drive home, I thought of the David Sedaris essay “On the Kookaburra” where he discusses the idea of the four burners. Think of your life as being like a stove top, says one of the people he encounters on a trip to Australia, where each burner represents a key component: family, friends, health, and work. In order to be successful, the theory goes, you need to turn one of the burners off, and in order to be really successful, you can only have two burners on. Trying to do too much means you’ll suffer in all areas.   The word success is an interesting one. To the yogi, success can, of course, mean fulfillment and inner peace, as much as worldly accomplishment. Either way, I think there’s something to this theory and I’m having a hard time deciding which one–or two–of the burners I’m willing to turn off, even temporarily. Do we all need to readjust our stove tops? Do I? And how to go about making the choice of which burners to turn off, even for a time?  Or is it better–more yogic–to keep all the burners on a moderate flame?   Which burners do you have on high?  Which are you willing to shut off?  And does anyone know where I can get a seriously discounted Viking range with six burners, which would solve the problem completely? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.  

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The Four Burners

New York Yogis are truly the toughest, most dedicated yogis around. Thousands of mats covered the streets in Times Square and shut down the city center in order to salute the sun  and share a concrete-penetrating AUM! Check it out: Images courtesy of Lem Lattimer.

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Solstice Celebration!

Hundreds of fellow yogis celebrated the Solstice in Times Square , and Yoga Journal was on the scene. Dana Flynn from Laughing Lotus and Alanna Kaivalya taught to hundreds of eager yogis in the heart of the city that never sleeps. If one can yoga here, one can yoga anywhere. Here’s a preview of some blissful yogis…stay tuned for more updates in the coming days. Did you go to this event? Share your thoughts below and post your images to our Facebook page.

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Solstice Yoga in Times Square

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. Do Dancing Fan for one minute or more.  

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Perpetual Celebration

I love yoga because of its solitary nature. An early morning coffee, my lovely man and dog still in bed, me shuffling to the living room in pajama pants and a t-shirt. Darkness in winter, green grass and blue lake in front of me in summer. This is good, good, good. The other side of this is that I often have elaborate get-togethers during my practice. This morning was like this. My daughter is in China. I miss her beautiful face. So, during Warrior II, I reach my fingertips forward and back and imagine my arms growing, circling the world until I can hold her face with both hands. In seated forward bends, I think of one of my best friends, Riesa, who lives on the other side of the country. She taught me some of my favorite forward bends ten years ago. I miss her voice today. My mom shows up when I’m trying to open my hips. I suspect we’d both love to be more flexible with each other. And at the end of my practice, when the time comes to offer the fruits of practice to someone who might benefit (we do this in class, sometimes), I send my love and thanks to Nancy, a theater friend who passed away recently. She was still here when I came back to yoga 8 or 9 months ago. I got into the habit of sending her strength and courage and just kept on after she passed away. My hope is she’s out there somewhere, happy to receive the love. Who knew home practice could be such a gathering place? It also makes me wonder who you’re with when you practice.  I’d love to hear. Thanks to yoga for uniting us all, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd practices yoga, theatre, public speaking, writing, and chiropractic in North Bay, Ontario. Contact her at kristinshepherd.ca and at Dr. Kristin Shepherd on Facebook.

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Union

In 2009, Father’s Day cost individual consumers an average of $90.89, while Mother’s Day spending was $123.89, according to a recent National Geographic article . Even though the wallets open less wide than for mother’s day, psychology lecturer Gilbert Cole says the smiles are likely genuine when millions of fathers across the U.S. open boxes, peel back tissue paper, and admire their new neckties–still somehow the most common gist for the holiday. Her research shows that even though dads get less attention on Father’s Day than moms do on Mother’s Day, fathers are more likely to be satisfied on their holiday. This letting go of expectation and contentment with what is presented makes Dad, even though he’s never set foot in a yoga studio, a yogi in my book.  Your dad may also embody the Brahmavihara’s , which Thich Nhat Han considers a blueprint for true love. After some brief reflection, it’s obvious that my dad has done yoga his entire life. Maitri , Loving Kindness My dad’s second grade teacher said that Larry had never met a stranger. He was instantly friends with whomever crossed his path. While my mother sometimes briefly bemoaned the additional guests, our dinner table was always shared with those in need of a friend. My father was that unwavering, loving friend for anyone he met.  Karuna, Compassion Every winter my father, without fail, would gather up our old (and sometimes favorite) blankets and drive them to shelters. I remember being dragged out of bed early on Earth Day to clean up the St. John’s River, missing out on a mall trip to accompany him to a soup kitchen–and on more than one occasion being late to school because my dad had stopped to save a (turtle, rabbit, squirrel) that was (in the middle of the road, sick or abandoned).   Mudita, Sympathetic Joy Whose father has not beamed with pride at their graduation, teared up at a wedding or gingerly framed their first finger painting? These life events make it easy to share in others’ joy, but what about the father who is proud even when you make the tough decision to drop out of college or take a chance and move across the country or even across the world? Putting his own preferences aside, he is able to share joy in that which brings me happiness, truly, honestly and selflessly. Vpeksha, Spaciousness, “Seeing the big picture” Whether I was going through a dramatic break-up or disappointed with my SAT score, Dad was always there to put it back in perspective. Dads are good at that.  Whether he takes his time to enjoy a great meal or simply enjoys being outdoors, in what ways has your father proven to be a yogi? Which of these sounds most like him and which of these can you work to embody in your life? Erin Chalfant is a writer, yoga teacher and the Web Editor at Yoga Journal. She would like to thank Sianna Sherman and the Kapi Shashi Kula for inspiring this reflection.

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Is your Dad a Yogi?

When I began practicing yoga, I studied at a beautiful, inspiring, and decidedly glamorous yoga center in downtown New York City. The students saluting the sun beside me were often dancers, actresses, and models-including some big name celebrities like Russell Simmons, Woody Harrelson, and Christy Turlington-all very nice, but I couldn’t help but be intimidated.   Celebrities aside, I used to compare myself to the glossy women in my classes. They were skinny; I wasn’t. They wore high heels, designer clothes, and carried expensive handbags; I wore Converse sneakers and thrift store dresses, and ported my stuff around in a $5 Strand Bookstore bag. More important to me, they had their poses down. Handstand? Headstand? Five wheels in a row? No problem. I was struggling to simply follow along. Now I look back with compassion on the 20-something me. I must have looked cute in my bargain finds. And so what if I didn’t have my asana practice down to a science! It’s called being a beginner, right? These days, I don’t compare myself to others very much in the yoga room, but I do have to stop myself from making comparisons when it comes to Lucien and other children his age. It’s a mind game, and no good for anyone to compare where each child is at when it comes to the particulars of developmental stages. Last year at this time, moms and nannies would come up to me in the playground looking really worried. “He’s not walking yet?” they’d exclaim, as an eighteen-month old Lucien crawled up the stairs and down the slide. And my mind would race with all the worries I had about my slow to walk, not yet toddling toddler.  Nowadays, when people on the playground hear him go through his musical repertoire-don’t get me started on how many songs this boy knows by heart-I get questions about his crazy verbal skills. No, I am not drilling him with flashcards, he just happens to love language and all things musical. Of course, secretly, I can’t help but feel something like pride when mothers and nannies are impressed by Lucien’s rendition of “This Land is Your Land” or “Three Little Birds” or “Seasons of Love” but then I realize that’s a false reality.  The minute I let myself buy into the praise, is the minute I have to also buy into the fears. Is Lucien “too” shy and bookish? How are his motor skills as compared to the other kids his age? Should he be racing down the sidewalk on his balance bike rather than slowly investigating it in the backyard? All of a sudden I’m back at my glamorous yoga center, beating myself up for not yet mastering those advanced poses, rather than embracing the beauty of that 20-something me.   One of my early teachers, this one in Cambridge, Massachusetts, liked to tell us to keep our eyes on our own mat, to not compare our practice to anyone else’s. Great yogic advice-and it works just as well on the playground, too. Next time someone on the playground makes a comment about Lucien-whether praise or a concerned worry-I’ll try and smile graciously, and then let the comment go and get back to some quality time with my boy.   Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Monkey Bar Mind

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.

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Healing Addictions–of all Kinds

I can do a handstand! I’m 48 and I’ve never said that before. We learned in class the other day. Rob said to try it if you’re ready, and I thought, no way, that’s not going to happen for me.  Like playing in the NBA, like leaping from the Eiffel Tower and landing on two feet, like flying to Mars. That’s where handstands belonged for me. Then. We discuss. We prepare. We approach. We inhale one foot up, and exhale the other up.  Okay, I have to fling mine up.) First try, no go. Which is understandable because it’s about 75 miles from the floor to the wall when you’re upside down. Second try, same thing. Third try, same thing. Then Rob comes over to help. Just slightly, by showing my feet where the wall is. “Look at a point on the floor between your hands this time,” he says. And on my fifth try, I fly to Mars. I swear to God, that’s what it feels like. And yes, my ribs are half way across the room, and yes, I need to reach with my heels. I need to do about 300 things to improve my form, but I DID IT!!!!!! The NBA, the Eiffel Tower. A handstand. I read somewhere in Yoga Journal that a Handstand can change your life–they’re right! It has.  I feel invincible. Have you tried? Do you hope to? Is this old hat for you? Do you love it? Tell me, please. Thanks to handstand for changing my life, and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd lives in North Bay, Ontario.  She is a chiropractor, workshop facilitator, actor, writer, and parent of two grown children and a perpetually infantile dog.  Check her out at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

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I am Invincible

I used to think asana practice required a yoga mat, sweats-or maybe even “yoga clothes”-a quiet indoor space, and time. (Lots of it.) Lately, Lucien has been teaching me that none of these are necessary. Thanks to my two year old, I’m starting to realize-after more than ten years of consistent practice-that yoga can be practiced in spurts, a pose here and a pose there.  Yesterday we were in the backyard gathering vegetables from our garden for dinner. I noticed that both Lucien and I were in Malasana pose as we clipped and gathered the kale and spinach. Later that evening during Lucien’s bath, my husband Neil and I were amazed to see Lucien sitting in Virasana for twenty minutes straight while he played with his rubber duck and wooden boat.  This morning, when Neil and Lucien came to wake me up, Lucien put one hand on a laundry hamper temporarily stashed in the bedroom, and stretched the opposite side leg onto the bed, inadvertently coming into a beautiful Utthita Hasta Padangustasana. (He’s a natural.)  I’ve decided to take a lesson from Lucien and add a pose here or there into my daily activities-a shoulder stretch while I’m at my desk working, a triangle pose while hanging out with Lucien in the kitchen. The other day Lucien skipped his nap-a bummer for me since I’d been going all day. He wasn’t sleepy, but I needed a break. While Lucien played on the floor in the living room with his trains, I laid down next to him in a bare-bones Savasana.  It was just a minute or two or three, and I was in my jeans, but you know what? It was bliss. What poses do you mix into your day?  What has your child taught you about yoga lately? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Malasana in the Garden

I’ve been away from yoga class for almost two weeks. Granted, I’ve done lots of practice in hotels, other people’s basements, and on the deck of a cottage in beautiful morning sun, but jeepers, I miss class. This morning someone asked me if I have a dog. “Do you like yoga?” I replied. “No,” she said.  “What does that have to do with a dog?” “Nothing at all.  It’s just the only thing I can think of right now.” I have lots of these conversations when I’ve been away from class. I miss my teachers, who are kind and excellent at what they do, and funny while they’re at it. I miss the other students, most of whom are strangers to me, all of whom love what I love and are therefore friends of a kind. I miss the sound of people breathing in unison. I miss the gorgeous, quiet yoga music they play during Savasana. I miss that dopey feeling that comes from a fully relaxed body and mind. And I miss chanting om together at the end.   You forget how lovely all of this is until you’ve been away for a little while. What would you miss if you missed two weeks? Thanks to my home studio for being there tomorrow (I’m so excited!), and thanks to you for the conversation. Kristin Shepherd practices yoga, theatre, public speaking, writing, and chiropractic in North Bay, Ontario. Contact her at kristinshepherd.ca and at Dr. Kristin Shepherd on Facebook.

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Missing Class

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.  

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Making the Tough Choices

My husband Neil–an exceptionally dedicated father, and an equally dedicated workaholic–goes to yoga class on Sunday mornings. This is a miracle ten years in the making. While Neil has always loved the feeling of stretching himself out in an asana class, finding the time in his busy schedule has been a struggle. The only time he attended class faithfully was years ago when I was teaching yoga in the evenings down the road from the college where he was a professor. For a long time after that, Neil would take a class here and there, or very occasionally practice at home, but he never managed to build in a regular practice. Neil, a sociologist, loves his work, and he works very hard. He also puts in a lot of time with Lucien. Unlike me, he never takes the occasional Saturday afternoon to meet a friend, go on a bike ride, or read in the hammock for an hour–on the weekends he’s either hanging out with the family, doing errands for us, or working. With little-to-no personal downtime, I knew how much yoga could help him. The physical benefits of asana practice would be a perfect antidote to his hours at the computer, and the peace of resting in Savasana at the end of class might be the only complete relaxation he’d have all week. But there’s no forcing someone into a yoga practice. Sure, Neil wanted to find time for yoga class, but he wanted to be with Lucien and me and work more. Much more. Every so often, though, I’d bring up the topic. “Wouldn’t you like to…?” I’d ask him, suggesting an evening level 1/2 class offered by my teacher.  But I didn’t push–not too hard, anyway. On his own, after some trial and error, Neil finally found a class that works for him. It’s a Sunday morning “men’s class” at my Iyengar center. At first we worried about losing our Sunday morning family time–the one morning of the week we all have together, since I often take Saturday mornings to catch up on my writing and on the laundry.  We needn’t have worried.  “Daddy doing yoga,” as Lucien calls it when Neil heads to class, has had an entirely positive effect on our family. And Neil doesn’t need to be convinced to go, either! While he hasn’t made it to class every Sunday morning (see my previous posts on how sick we’ve been!), he has gone most mornings since signing up. Lucien and I use the time to host a play date in the backyard, or just to be together. Neil comes home by noon–rejuvenated, rested, relaxed and ready for the week. Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Daddy Does Yoga

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.    

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Asking for It

My Tuesday noon class follows a morning of work for me, work which involves reasonably serious conversations with reasonably serious adults. Then I whip into my office at 11:30, change into my yoga duds, and drive over to the studio, arriving ridiculously early for my 12:15 class. In fact, when I arrive, they’re still sweeping up Cheerios from the floor.  Moms carry babies on their hips, all of them completely relaxed after a moms-and-tots class. I love this. I put my mat down in the back corner, and dream about being a yoga baby. In this dream, my body has no resistance. I flop forward and sweep my hands across the floor. My head turns like an owl. I do somersaults for the fun of it.   In this dream class, I laugh whenever I feel like it. I also sing: This Little Light of Mine, or Baby Beluga, or You Are My Sunshine. I dance while I sing. We all do, in this class. I eat the odd raisin or Cheerio off the floor.  I drink hot chocolate out of one of those sippy cups.I hang out in Child’s Pose when I get tired.  I have a nap if I feel like it. And someone carries me out at the end. I like that part the best. I am so into this dream that by the time my real class starts, I am about 4 years old. Do you have a dream class? I’d love to hear about it. Thanks to all of you yoga moms and yoga babies for the inspiration,and thanks to you for the conversation.

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Yoga Babies

One nice thing about being sick a couple of weeks ago was that I had time to finish a wonderful book, Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting , by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn.  Normally I tend to avoid parenting books–when I have time to read I want to read “adult” material such as The New York Times, The New Yorker, Yoga Journa l (of course), a novel, or a new smart and funny memoir like Meghan Daum’s Life Would Be Perfect If I Lived In That House. Luckily, I found my way to Everyday Blessings.   Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn (the well known mindfulness meditation teacher) lovingly weave together their takes on parenting and spiritual practice, illuminating how much each can add to the other.  They describe parenthood as an 18-year spiritual retreat–complete with a live in meditation teacher.  (My teacher’s name? Lucien.)  In chapters about each stage of childhood–from birth to toddlers to teenagers–they offer concrete ways to bring consciousness and connectedness to parent-child relationships. Much of what I read in this beautiful book was in line with what Neil and I have naturally been doing with Lucien–making time for the precious in-between moments of daily life by dancing in the living room, singing songs and making music, drawing and creating, listening and hugging, taking walks in nature and around the neighborhood, reading the same story five times over, without complaint, surrendering to the rhythms of childhood in all sorts of ways.  Before reading Everyday Blessings , I’d done these things because I sensed they were good for Lucien, and because the moments just felt right. After reading, I realized that these moments of connection with my child are my spiritual practice. Time to go dance. Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Everyday Blessings

Hi guys, I hope you haven’t been feeling left out of my outfit picks, because this week is all about the men! I know many of us, ladies included, often fall back on the standard black and white palette, but don’t be afraid of a little color. It radiates such great energy. I also know you certainly don’t need a hat in yoga class, but this one by Prana was so cool I couldn’t resist. Overall I was impressed with Prana’s men’s collection. Nice basic pieces with a few suprises thrown in. I also adore Toms shoes for men and the ladies, great style and a great cause. the details: Impact Sleeveless shirt by Prana $32.00 Ultra Shorts by Patagonia $55.00 Straw Fedora by Prana $32.00 Paper Tote Bag by Peasants and Travelers $88.00 Grey Heezen/Burlap Men’s Stitchouts shoes by Toms $58.00 Revolution Natural Sticky Mat $90.00

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Wish I was Wearing: Dude Duds

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.      

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The Whole Core

My lovely man is in the shower. He’s got yoga class in an hour. He’s pretty excited. Me too.   I do Vinyasa and Ashtanga classes at the moment. He takes Yin Yoga. You probably know more about that than I do.  What I do know is that ten years ago I might have spent time and energy trying to convince him that my form of yoga is so fantastic that he’d be better off in my class. With my teacher.  My chanting. At my favorite hour of the day. On my kind of yoga mat. In my corner in the back row.  And on and on into ridiculousness. I was a little bit inflexible, which defeats the purpose, don’t you think? I was also chronically bored, which is what happens when I only listen to what I’ve already said 47 times before. I’m happy to say that at the age of 48 I’m just now learning to let the hostages go.  To let others choose for themselves and to be happy with what that brings me. What does it bring me? Hours of discussion about Yin Yoga, for one. It sounds fantastic. I’ll try it in the fall. The second thing it brings me is the idea that although yoga is about union, it is also an enormous and varied collection of beautiful ways to explore and take care of ourselves. I can hardly wait to hear what yoga you love and why. Thanks to yoga for helping me release the hostages, and thanks to you for the conversation.

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Release the Hostages

Photo: Rows of lettuce and greens growing in our vegetable garden. Growing up, I struggled with my weight. I used food for comfort and companionship, taking bowls of potato chips and pistachio nuts to my room where I’d hide out from my unhappy home–eating, reading, and dreaming of my escape.  Throughout my teens and early twenties, I bounced between “good” periods of eating relatively well and exercising moderately and “bad” phases when I’d eat bagels and cream cheese for dinner, and then again for desert.  As you’d imagine, my weight went up and down–I was sometimes thin, often chubby, and occasionally undeniably overweight. When I was 29, I did some serious soul-searching, turned my life around, and lost the excess weight once and for all.   As I chronicle in my book (see below for info.), yoga and yoga philosophy helped me dig my way out of depression, and change my relationship with food.   I’m 38 now and, thankfully, food is no longer a struggle for me.  I eat when I’m hungry, favoring whole grains and lentils and vegetables and fruits, with the occasional splurge on pizza or a chocolate croissant.  The suburban girl who didn’t eat or know much about vegetables is now a gardening mom, growing carrots and kale and lettuce and spinach in the backyard.  Having struggled with food and body image issues, I’m committed to helping my son Lucien develop a healthy relationship to food.  That’s easier said than done. Lucien is a relatively adventurous eater, trying tortillas and pakoras when we’re out, chomping on cooked carrots and brown rice and beans and tofu slices at home.  A snack for Lucien is a brown rice cake and cheese, not a bag of chips or cookies.  So far, so good, right?  But life with Mommy is one thing, and then there’s the “real” world.  A child at morning daycare celebrates a birthday by bringing in cupcakes with enough sugar to make Lucien skip his afternoon nap; a friend comes over with a packaged and processed snack Lucien has never seen before, but desperately wants to try.  I don’t want him to be afraid of food, or think of certain foods as forbidden.  But at the same time I believe his diet is a crucial component of his physical and emotional health. Those whole grains and veggies and dairy and lentils are his daily vitamins–literally.   Things will get more complicated, I know, when he gets a little older.  He doesn’t yet know about McDonalds, hasn’t tried candy, or heard about soda.  My plan? To keep the fridge, pantry (and garden) stocked with healthy food, and show him how yummy it can be to eat like mommy and daddy.  I’ll keep you posted, and I’d love to hear how you’re coping with feeding your toddlers a yogic diet. Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Enlightened Eating for Toddlers

For the rest of my life, when the subject of PopTarts comes up, I’ll either have to tell shifty-eyed lies or I’ll have to tell the truth. I’ll start with the truth right now. I’ve been away all week at a theatre festival.  This means hotel beds, hotel roommates, late nights, and crazy food–meat or soy balls covered in sweet sauces, served on toothpicks that really add up on your plate. More cheese and crackers than you’ve eaten in your life, and the kinds of sweet squares we all serve at weddings, funerals, board meetings–you know these things. Day One. I begin the week like an angel.  An hour of yoga at 5:30 am in the hotel gym.  I grab a corner of the room, squeeze myself between two treadmills and a wall-to-wall mirror, and do my best on a concrete floor covered in stained indoor-outdoor carpet.  It isn’t class, but it’s okay. Day Two. At 5:30 am, I do 45 minutes of yoga, which is pretty great given four hours of sleep and a really puffy face. (Is it the salt?  The meat/soyballs?)  It’s no fun staring at a bloated version of your own face in a mirror the size of Canada.  And all those people thumping on treadmills, jeez.  Not to mention CNN on the TV. Om. Day Three.   At 5:15 am, because my roommate is snoring and I can’t sleep anyway, I do 30 minutes of yoga in the hallway outside my room on the 10th floor of the hotel.  The carpet is thicker here, and I’m not up to the social thing with the weightlifters, the runners, and the mirror. My face is the puffiest yet.  I’ve been eating sauce balls at midnight for three days.  Why don’t I stop eating them?  I have no idea. This was a good morning of yoga.  I prepare for a wee Savasana at the end.  I lie down. Suddenly a man emerges–naked–from the room across the hall to retrieve his newspaper from the floor outside his door.   He yells.  I yell.  Then he screams: “I’m sorry!” and flees back into his room. I am too rattled for Savasana.    Day Four. I don’t do any yoga this morning. Instead, I sit in the hallway at 5am and read bad news from the newspaper outside my door.  I open and eat the first PopTart of my life.  (It was in a goodie bag we were given on arrival.  I laughed at the absurdity of PopTarts then.  I’m not laughing now.)  It is not my finest moment.  Not my finest day. Day Five.  At Home. Here’s the lesson for me: I’m human.  I do well on some days, and some days I forget everything I’ve learned about yoga, decent food, and kindness to myself. I can hardly wait for class tomorrow. What reminds you to get back to your practice? Thanks to PopTarts, naked men, and meat/soyballs, which help me understand, again, how beautiful yoga is. And thanks to you for the conversation.

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PopTart Yoga

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. CORE POSE: Parivrtta Trikonasana (Revolved Triangle) variation 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.

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Striving for Imperfection

While chemotherapy can save your life, the process is brutal and difficult to say the least. Patients report sleep loss, loss of hair, little appetite, and a general sense of dis-ease. But a new study –to be highlighted at the next meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology–finds that doing yoga in addition to chemotherapy improves sleep, reduces dependency on sedative medication, and helps patients make the transition back to a normal life. When Bloomberg Businessweek picks up on the story , it’s real–in a stodgy, establishment-oriented, Western medicine kind of way. The study, performed at the University of Rochester , enrolled 410 early-stage cancer survivors, and found that after four weeks, those who did yoga regularly reported significantly improved sleep, reduced fatigue, and a higher quality of life. Lead researcher Karen Mustian, Ph.D., M.P.H.,an assistant professor in Radiation Oncology at Rochester, crafted a practice focused on breathing exercises, gentle asanas, and restorative postures. The video routine, YOCAS (Yoga for Cancer Survivors), is not yet available for one and all, but Mustian notes that any regular practice of restorative yoga is likely to yield similar results.   Your doctor might not yet be ready to jump on the yoga bandwagon; your insurance probably won’t cover it. But why wait for the system to catch up to this breaking news? This is one “alternative” treatment that’s perfectly safe to prescribe for yourself (or for friends and family who might be suffering in the wake of cancer treatment). Better rest, peace of mind, and an improved sense of wellness are a great buy at $15 a class. Or find a donation-based studio, and you can reap the benefits for even less. If you can’t manage to get out and about, dig out your VCR and get yourself a copy of the late Esther Myer’s excellent video, “Gentle Yoga for Breast Cancer Survivors” . Take a deep breath, stretch, and remind yourself that though Savasana might be helpful to you now, you’re not a corpse yet!

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Survive and Thrive

My absolute favorite color for summer is turquoise, so this week I thought I’d put together a cheerful outfit for you with my love of the blues in mind. I’m also still in bargain hunting mode, so this entire outfit is again just a little over $100.00. Is there a color you like to wear that cheers you up? What’s your absolute favorite color for summertime? the details: Straw Bag from H&M–$19.95 New Wave V-Neck Icon Tank by Marika from Target–$19.99 Striped Sports Bra from Forever 21–$6.80 Fitted Bootcut C9 pant by Champion from Target–$19.99 Gaiam Wisdom Yoga Mat Bag from Target–$19.99 Scarf from Forever 21–$7.80 Lotus and Koi Earrings from Forever 21–$3.80

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Wish I was Wearing: Thrifty Turquoise

I’ve had a really busy week. It involved cramming four days of work into one day–today. I ran around this morning not very like a Buddhist monk with her head cut off. By the time I got to yoga class at noon, I was disappointed with myself and my roller coaster relationship with the world. This is no time for me to be social. But. But it is my only chance to get to class this week, unless I can find one while traveling over the next few days. And it’s a drag chanting om by myself. So I climb the stairs, get changed, and put a mat down. I don’t look at anyone. Class starts, I hang over my feet, and I breathe.  I can’t tell you how this saves me on a day like this. Before too long I look at my teacher, I begin to smile at the way his count of 5 is far more like 39, and I hear the breathing all around me. Toward the end of class, we’re in a sitting spinal twist. I’m enjoying it. It’s easier than it was last week. I glance up and meet the eyes of the woman on the next mat. “Turn the other way,” she says. “What?” “You’re turned the wrong way,” she whispers. She has no idea how right she is. I turn the other way and find the twist exactly as difficult as it was last week. Then I take a second to glance around the room at these people who are kind enough to share a room with strangers in the pursuit of something kinder, stronger, and more flexible than the rest of the day. And I belt out om like my life depends on it when class ends. Thanks to my neighbor for turning me around and thanks to you for the conversation.

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Turning me Around

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.        

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The Beautiful Game

I was at a meditation retreat last week. Do you know what they’re like? Grainy, leafy food in portions your pet fish couldn’t survive on, no talking, no reading, no car keys, no wallet, no calling home. It isn’t Club Med. Just meditating, dawn ’till after dusk. It can be lonely. But some fantastic things happen.    Here is one very cool thing.  Picture this: 5am, maybe.  (No watches.)  Still dark out, anyway. I come out of my room each morning, slowly and silently, and head toward the meditation hall, dressed in pajamas. As I walk down the hall, every third or fourth door opens, and another person in pajamas comes out, quietly closing a door behind her.  We look like something from a zombie movie, except that some of the zombies have mats under their arms. We walk in bare feet to the hall where we each pick a spot on the floor. We begin our practice. All you can hear is breathing and the soft thuds of feet jumping forward and back. It’s impromptu Mysore.  No one organized or announced it. It goes on for perhaps forty minutes, people drifting in and out of the hall.  All of this happens before we begin meditating for the day. And, holy mackerel, even though we don’t speak, don’t even look at each other for the most part, even though we’re about to begin another grueling day of seated meditation, I am deliriously happy. I don’t want to leave the impression that meditating is awful from start to finish. Other very cool things that happen on these retreats are an empty, quiet head and a sense of peace that will knock you over if you let it.  I love it. Days later I can still feel it. I feel a need to express some thanks to these zombie yogis. They were my family away from home.  We showed up for each other first thing in the morning on days when it mattered. So to these men and women I don’t know, and to the ones I do know but didn’t say a word to: thank you, thank you, thank you.You made meditating a little easier, and you made me fall in love with yoga all over again. Thanks to yoga zombies for making me fall in love with yoga, and thanks to you for the conversation.

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Yoga Zombies

That’s the question I’m asking myself this week, in the quiet space between traveling to California last week and heading to the Midwest this week where I’m teaching Core Strength workshops. I’m blessed to have so many invitations, but it’s easy for me, in my exuberance about what I do, to over commit and give out too much. Then I end up depleted, with emails piling up and other projects lagging behind. Not to mention neglecting my own practice and nourishment. I must have had two hot chocolates a day in Los Angeles as I ran between meetings. It’s great for the soul, but not so much for the body. I’m realizing that there is a fine line between doing something you love, and doing too much of it. On Facebook, there’s an interesting conversation about how challenging it can be when you’re in love to hold your center and not lose yourself. It’s simple to slip into the habit of giving to and receiving from your partner, but not to and from yourself, which is a necessary component of core strength. When I teach yoga, I see students who strive for the next, best pose, but sometimes cross the line from strengthening into aggression, or from a healthy stretch into destabilization. Yoga only became mainstream a few years back, and now that we’ve transformed and become long, lean, and strong, how do we proceed? By doing and stretching more? All of this is the same lesson, actually. There has to be a time in yoga, in love, and in life when enough is enough. When our bodies are strong and our flexibility is in balance. When our hearts are full of love for someone else. And when we’ve broken through our resistance to live from our passion. But then what? Eastern philosophies like Buddhism teach us about the Middle Way, the road of balance. In yoga, we might call this alignment, the place between giving too much and keeping too much. Where we’re relaxed enough, powerful enough, and therefore, ultimately free. In my own practice, which on a good day lasts the other 22.5 hours that I’m not on a mat, I turn to the yogic principle of asteya , which means “nonstealing.” At first glance, it might seem to have little to do with what I’ve shared here, but its alternate meaning is “integrity.” Think of someone who embodies integrity to you. I bet they’re generous with their time and love, and they probably love what they do. In addition, they are uniquely themselves, treat themselves as they would their closest loved one, and don’t allow that inner attention to be drained outwards. Next time you’re in a yoga pose, notice the state of your energy. Are you stealing what you need from yourself by going too far? In relationships, can you maintain your own life, and also not drain too much attention from another person because it feels so good to have them love you? Are you so focused on creating your life’s work that you move out of integrity and stop nourishing your relationships with friends and family? By bringing awareness to the places where steya , or stealing, occurs, we can take actions that move us away from suffering, fatigue. and resentment, and re-tip the scales in favor of the integrity of true center. CORE POSE : Ardha Matsyendrasana  (Half Lord of the Fishes Pose) When I approach this pose, I think of the proverb: “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” Practice this asana any time you need a reminder to turn inside to empower yourself or to hold center even as you engage in all your many offerings of the heart. Come to sitting and cross your right foot to the outside of your left thigh. To begin the twist, ground your left elbow into the top of your right knee (not your thigh) to create length in your spine. From this place of spinal integrity, begin to revolve your heart center to your right. Let your gaze follow. Make sure that your hips and navel continue to face forward, and only express the pose as much as needed to stay centered in the foundation. Take 5-10 breaths here then release and repeat on the other side.      

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When is Enough Enough?

Photo: Trying to be productive at the University of British Columbia library. I’m sitting in the library on campus with a thermometer in my mouth and a stack of tissues on my desk, feeling entirely unenlightened.   My husband Neil is out of town for work, and I’m sick–can hardly get out of bed sick–for the second time this month, and the sixth or seventh time (at least) since September.   Before having a baby, I’d heard from friends about the dreaded string of colds and flu that a little one can bring home from preschool or daycare.   But Neil and I thought that wouldn’t be us, not with our good eating habits, early to bed early-to-rise schedules, and healthy lifestyles.   Hah!   Lucien goes to a wonderful morning daycare program on campus four mornings a week where his teachers are not only loving and caring, but diligent about washing hands.   Yet no amount of hand washing or hand sanitizing has stopped Lucien from coming home with minor nose drips–which, when we adults get them, turn into raging fevers and coughs and congestion.   Neil had walking pneumonia earlier this year, and I had H1N1 back in the fall, and then the regular flu a couple months ago.   Even a run of the mill fever and sore throat like I have now makes my normal life seem all of a sudden unmanageable–especially with Neil away.   What’s a yogi to do?   I’ve tried vitamins, immune-system building asana sequences, but nothing seems to be enough to fend off the viruses.   What’s strange, too, is that I feel great in between illnesses. Then all of a sudden I feel the tell-tale scratchy throat, sneezes, and the shivers that come with fever.   Sleeping fitfully last night, it was all I could do to make breakfast, pack a lunch, and get Lucien ready for the drive to campus this morning.   Thank goodness our babysitter can come over this afternoon so I can sleep off my fever, b ut I’m determined to figure out how we can get and stay healthy–or at least healthier–from now on.   How do you stay healthy with young children in the house? Ideas and suggestions, please? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer   (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Sick of Being Sick

Though I sometimes wish I could splurge on the many outfits I put together for my blog and here at Yoga Journal , the reality is that it is not always possible. In these tough economic times I like to be a serious bargain hunter. I challenged myself this week to see what I could come up with on a budget. This entire outfit, shoes, bag, and yoga mat are just a little over $100.00 combined. the details: Funnel-neck Active Zip Jacket   oldnavy.com $15.00 Sports Bra   forever21.com $11.80 Fold-Over Yoga Capris  oldnavy.com   $16.50 Washed Small Cross Body Bag  topshop.com $36.00 Damask Gaiam Yoga Mat   target.com   $19.99 Silver Metallic Gladiator Sandals   oldnavy.com $17.99

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Wish I was Wearing: Bargain Hunters

Yesterday I stopped into a coffee shop for my near-daily dose of hot chocolate.  It’s my only vice. (Well, unless yoga counts.) While there, I struck up a conversation with a woman who was stuffing straws and stirrers into her back pocket. She saw me looking at her and said, “If I don’t hide these from my daughter, she’ll make musical instruments or little plastic families with them, and I won’t be able to get her to take a nap!” We both remarked how little it took to spark a kid’s imagination. “I wish we could do that as adults,” I said, wistfully. She nodded in agreement, like adults do: solemnly and rationally. Then, straws firmly in pocket and adult caffeinated beverages in hand, she walked away. Later, as I walked down the street, I was struck by my statement. Had I really strayed so far from the path of adventure and childlike delight that I had to say I wished I could do that again? Here I had a hot chocolate in hand and yet I was drinking it like an adult: while I walked to work, instead of like a child, reveling in its yumminess.  Sometimes I feel that the older I get and the more responsibility I accept, the more chronic Boring Adult Syndrome becomes. I want to turn swizzle sticks into trumpets and stop and climb trees instead of just rushing by them on my way to a meeting. Though, really, the only thing stopping me from engaging in life in a fresh and exciting way is myself. The concept of an “inner child” is used in therapeutic parlance, for example, to designate such a hurt part of us that needs to be protected. But I’m in the mood to reclaim that concept and bring my inner child out to play. In yoga, we call this lighthearted and energetic dance of spirit lila , or divine play. It’s a call back to freedom, laughter, and the simple joy of living.  When we access it, we spark a delicious sense of aliveness that makes life that much more worth living. On your mat, are you so focused on getting through a challenging practice that you forget to lighten up and let your life energy flow through the poses? Do you pass by park swings without a glance, or sit down for 5 minutes of glee? Isn’t your office desk due for some bright purple flowers, just because? Opportunities for lila are found everywhere, even in the most somber or painful moments. This week I invite you to open your inner child’s eyes, see from a whimsical perspective, and allow yourself to take advantage of doorways into happiness wherever and whenever you can. Here’s a pose to help you find the way in: Core Pose: Breath of Freedom in Chair Pose Come into Chair Pose (Utkatasana) with feet and knees together. Bend your knees and keep the tailbone long and belly lifting. On your inhalation, open your arms wide behind you and arch your chest. On the exhalation, round in, chin to chest, and hug yourself with both arms. Repeat the movement as long as it’s comfortable. Try and go beyond the physical alignment to infuse the pose with vitality and a sense of gratitude for being alive. You’ll bring a sense of wonder and energy to it that will make it not just a pose, but a living experience of lila.

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Calling on Lila

I’d love to thank a couple of Yoga Journal readers who commented on a blog I posted about morning practice. Both Ty and Kelly said things about wishing they could summon the discipline or the inspiration to do morning practice.  I found myself shouting back to them when I read their lovely comments.  Turns out they can’t hear me when I’m shouting. So I’ll say this in writing. First, there are experts to listen to.  So don’t listen to me unless it inspires you. I’m a yoga weenie.  So new I squeak. But here’s one weenie’s thought on the subject of building a home practice. I started my home practice in three minutes one night on my living room carpet. I did it because I found Friday tough.  I loved my Tuesday class but I was doing drive-bys on Fridays. Do you know about those? You drive to class and your car goes right by.  You drive by again and you end up at home, eating S&V chips and wishing you had some willpower. I was up to it on Tuesday but not at the end of the week. So I did two Sun Salutations one night. I liked it. It grew slowly, slowly from there. Three Sun Salutations. Four Sun Salutations and a quickie Warrior II. Five Sun Salutations, Warrior II, and Savasana. And so it went.   One of the huge reasons I’m so into yoga is that it is DELICIOUS. In my home practice, I follow delicious as it gets bigger and longer.  It’s like following a trail of chocolate brownies, but better. To Ty and Kelly, I hope this is helpful in some way.  If not, keep looking and you’ll find the answer that inspires you.  In the meantime: thanks to all who comment for your thoughts, and thanks to you for continuing the conversation.

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Following Delicious: Build Your Home Practice One Bite at a Time

Spoiler alert: This post is for viewers who have already seen the series finale of LOST.  Did you see last night’s Lost finale ? Help me out here, fellow yogis. Having struggled (largely in vain) to follow all the abstruse clues and connections throughout the show’s six-year history, I was tempted–in the end–to draw a very simple conclusion. Here it is: The characters on the island were there to burn off their karma and get liberated–not just from the island, but from the wheel of incarnation altogether. Forget good and evil, black smoke and white smoke, polar bears and logoed sharks, the Dharma Initiative and the “others,” and all those other distractions. In the end, they were simple window dressing. The real story for these characters was–as it always is–internal. They were waking up, realizing interconnection, and learning that the self is eternal, transcending time and place and circumstance. (That dance we saw between the truth of “none of this matters” and “all of this matters”–pure Tantra.) By the time they gathered in that chapel at the end–did you get a glimpse of that groovy stained glass window with the Om symbol?–they were beyond the cycle of birth and death. (”There is no ‘now’ here,” Jack’s dead father, Christian explained.) They were not just drenched in the white light of the island’s heart, but rather completely enlightened. Do you agree? Have an alternative theory? Share your thoughts: What the heck WAS that all about; sounds like yoga to me, but what do you think?

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Finding Yoga in LOST Finale

We’ve talked a lot about helping provide access to yoga for under-served and at-risk youth. But there’s another population equally in need of yoga’s healing and meditative benefits: the elderly. Physically and economically challenged seniors often can’t swing $15 a class–or keep up with the vigorous vinyasa flow. Frank Iszak knows this. The 78-year-old yoga teacher and founder of Silver Age Yoga in San Diego has made it his life’s mission to get grannies and grandpas on the mat. He goes to them (in senior centers, libraries, and churches), keeps it simple, and tailors his classes to help offset some of their common health issues: osteoporosis, arthritis, diabetes, weight gain, and poor circulation. Best of all, his classes are totally free! Iszak, who escaped to the U.S. from forced labor camp in communist Hungary in 1958, lives for seva, tirelessly working to improve the lives of others. “Our basic goal is to make their lives better–for whatever years they have left on planet Earth,” he says of his students. Sangha, too, is an important part of the Silver Age formula: Lonely seniors get a chance to connect physically, mentally, and spiritually with a community focused on feeling better in the world. Want to support Iszak’s work? You can donate to Silver Age, a 501(c) (3) organization , directly. Or, better yet, you can sign up for one of Iszak’s online teacher trainings and get busy bringing yoga to the seniors in your hometown.

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Good Old Yoga

Lucien is two and a half.  He loves: Mommy, Daddy, Salem (our dog), his music teacher, the ukulele, Cat Stevens, Bob Marley, the playground, the library, art class, the backyard, playing pretend with his stuffed animal bear, and, yes, yoga.   While he was decidedly not a fan of mommy-and-baby yoga class as an infant, and hasn’t really liked the couple of toddler yoga classes I’ve taken him to either, he does love to “do” yoga at home.   I know that technically young children aren’t supposed to–or at least, don’t need to–practice yoga, so I haven’t tried to teach him asana.  But just from living in a house where mommy and daddy love yoga, he’s picked it up. He’ll go into my yoga space and stand on a wooden block, arms outstretched.  Or, more often, he’ll sit in Baddha Konasana (Bound Angle Pose) and say “this pose is called cobbler’s pose.” He loves to stand at a wall and do tree pose, and somehow he knows instinctively to do both sides! When he’s upset, I often sing him the invocation to Patanjali and he sometimes asks for it:  “Mommy will sing the yoga song?”  Along with the Beatles and Dan Zanes, we listen to Wah! and Krishna Das, and a couple of times he’s picked up his ukulele and started singing his version of Hare Krishna.  He pulls my yoga books out from the bookcase and pages through them, looking at the photos and asking questions about the poses. “This pose is called?” he says. (It’s ridiculously cute.)  More important, when he cries or gets frustrated or overwhelmed, I ask him to take a breath with me.  We’ll count “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” when waiting for an overdue bus in the rain, or om together to try and calm down.   Believe me, there are plenty of times when Lucien sees me not listening to my own yogic advice.  I forget to breath, I get frustrated, I check my email rather than focusing in on the time we’re spending together.  But I hope the times he does see me “doing” yoga–remembering to be present, practicing asana, attempting to live consciously, will stay with him when he’s older.   Will Lucien end up being a yogi?  We’ll have to wait and see.  But for now, when Lucien, without prompting, sits down and pretends to meditate (closing his eyes “like Momma” for a few seconds), I am grateful to have these teachings in our lives.   How do you share yoga with your children? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer   (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Yogi in Training

We love Donna De Lory . The former pop princess–sidekick to Madonna, no less–has refashioned herself as a cooing, crooning kirtan chanteuse. Her sweet, ethereal renditions of “Om Namah Shivaya,” “Hare Krishna,” and “Aham Prema” leave you feeling that’s she’s an instrument through which flows the very breath of god. Tune into her good vibes on albums “The Lover and the Beloved” and “Sanctuary” . Better yet, catch her in person this summer at Lilith Fair , Wanderlust , or Bhakti Fest. Until then, tide yourself over with a music download, just for YJ Buzz Blogistas.

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Sonic Sanctuary

“Hold that for 5 breaths.” If you’re new to yoga, I’d like to give you some great advice: never believe this. It’s not going to be 5 breaths. It’s going to be about 27 breaths. It’ll go like this: The teacher starts out well enough: that’s one breath (then an adjustment to someone’s left hip and some encouraging advice), that’s two (if you just hold your shoulder back a little…ahhhh, that’s good), and that’s three already (I’m at twelve!), that’s four (and if you’d like a challenge, now, if you’d like to go a little deeper, try this) that’s four and a half–and now with a slight smile the teacher somehow manages to count: that’s five. It’s twenty-seven breaths for me. At first, I laughed at this. Then I resented it. Once I said out loud, “That isn’t three, it’s seventeen!” Today I see it a bit differently. Today I understand that it’ll take years, maybe five years for my shoulders to open. Maybe it’ll take seventeen years for my hips to open enough to do a full lotus. It’s more than that. Maybe it’ll take 27,000 breaths for me to relax into a pose without pushing and straining and achieving the whole time. Maybe it’ll take 270,000 breaths to enjoy the time I’ve been given in each pose and beyond: in each relationship, in each mouthful of food, in each hour at work, in whatever I’m learning today. You get the picture. It’s the new math. I wonder what you’re learning in your 27 breaths. I’d love to hear. Thanks to Rob and Cristina for yoga math (Bring it on!), and thanks to you for the conversation.

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New Math

This week I have an appointment with one of the biggest TV networks. I’m slightly excited but mostly just curious. I’m not sure what will happen, only that I’ll sit with a few producers who have never met me in order to explain, in 45 minutes or less, who I am and my idea for a show. Actually, according to Malcolm Gladwell, author of Blink , I will have more like 2 to 4 seconds.   Gladwell’s research shows that people can tell in this short a time whether they like, trust, or are attracted to you, or if they feel a situation is right for them.  These judgments are made based on your appearance and the inner energy that people sense from you, before you’ve even said a word. Yogis have known this for a while. Only we call it prajna , or inner wisdom. Since I can only pick out an outfit that represents me (check, including my lucky nickel necklace), eat well and do my yoga so I’m healthy (check), and go in there prepared and with my best intentions in mind (check), my inner wisdom tells me to surrender the rest and enjoy the moment for what it is. Yet the thing is, this 4-second knowing isn’t always accurate. Sometimes people who dislike each other at first meeting end up becoming lifelong soulmates. Or you can make an assumption about someone and be totally off-base. (I once saw what I thought was a homeless couple in Los Angeles, and then realized it was Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt dressed in the grunge fashion of the day.) There’s a fine line between the instant awareness of truth that comes to us when we live close to our center and the snap judgments born of fear, ego, or confusion that often masquerade as intuition. In life, which can be loud, unpredictable, and filled to the brim with other people’s assumptions, opinions, and perspectives, it’s important for the yogi to meet the world from a place of inner quiet and the kind of understanding that wells up from somewhere deep inside. But to really trust that truth, instead of thinking or rationalizing it to death, you first have to be able to hear it. The yogic art of pratyahara , the fifth limb of  Patanjali’s eightfold path of ashtanga yoga, can help. Pratyahara is the action of drawing your attention back to the core of your being, where all voices are muted except for your innermost one. The life-changing thing I’ve learned through yoga is that it’s much easier to draw inward when you don’t try to resist the outer cacophony of the world at large or even the internal noise generated by your mental and emotional plat du jour . Instead, the yogi learns to exist in two places at once–engaging in relationship with outer stimuli and yet constantly checking in with her core wisdom.  I think of this as a kind of dual drishti –where your gaze and attention simultaneously remain on the world around you and the world within. And until you learn to hear that wisdom, seeking inner guidance will be more like asking a random stranger how to get somewhere rather than creating a road map for yourself–of yourself–that you can use anywhere and at anytime. The following technique can help you develop pratyahara and stay in communication with your inner navigator through all the adventures that lie ahead!   Core Meditation : Dual Drishti Meditation Come into Sukasana (Easy Pose). Root your sitting bones into the Earth and feel a corresponding lift of support through your lower belly and spine. Close your eyes and breathe slowly and evenly through your nose. Bring your awareness first to the sounds and sensations occurring outside of you, in the room and beyond the building. Then notice the sensations on your skin, the thoughts rolling through your mind, and whether your heart is calm or in emotional turmoil. Simply observe all these things as if you were people-watching from a sidewalk café, holding onto no one thing in particular for long. Whatever predominates in your focus, witness it, and then let it pass. Let your breath help you soften any urge to resist or engage any of these sounds or feelings. Even as your attention remains on this first aspect of your experience, bring it to the subtler peaceful space at your center. You can focus on the pit of the belly as a symbolic location for this core, but then let the calm, abiding energy become part of your whole being. As you remain conscious of whatever is going on externally, use its ebb and flow to provide context for what is unwavering deep inside of you. Can you train your attention to be present in these two places at once? When you do, you’ll begin to notice that as you hone your inner gaze, the outer one will soften and broaden, dissolving its power to limit your vision into judgment or reactivity. Breathe and be with this practice for 5 minutes or more.                  

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Learning to Listen–to Yourself

Purple is a powerful color–it’s also associated with royalty, mystery, and even magic. Maybe the next time I need an extra boost to my own magical powers I’ll try wearing something purple. I think my favorite part of this outfit is the top. I love how it creates the layered look all by itself–like magic! the details: Breathe Easy Yoga Tank Top, Nike Bliss Cover Up, Nike Mynah Crop pants, Lululemon Yoga mat, Lululemon Flip-Flops, Old Navy Earthlust Water Bottle, Vickery Lotus Garden Body Butter, Pacifica Perfume

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Wish I was Wearing: Power Purple

I used to meditate.  I’d sit up in bed with my dog Salem cuddled next to me, trying to watch–and then release–my thoughts for ten or twenty minutes each morning.  It wasn’t easy finding the discipline to sit. Every morning I struggled to get myself to meditate before making coffee, but meditation left me feeling clearer, less anxious and slightly less attached (in a good way) to what would happen to me that day. Then I had a baby. Photo: My dog Salem keeps me company while I meditate. While it took me six months to return to asana practice, it was two full years before I could even think about renewing my morning meditation practice.  Finally, a few months ago I read Dani Shapiro’s new spiritual memoir, Devotion .  Her descriptions of starting a meditation practice inspired me to want to sit again. To be honest, I was equally motivated by the exhaustion-induced headaches I was getting most afternoons, which I hoped meditating could help alleviate. I realized I was craving peace and quiet–two things not exactly found in abundance with a toddler running around–and with no spa vacation or silent retreat in my immediate future, mediation seemed a cheap and relatively doable option. Nowadays, I sit for twenty minutes in the morning – in Virasana (Hero’s Pose), perched on a wooden block in my yoga corner first thing after brushing my teeth.  Something about starting my day calmly changes everything else that comes afterward.  While meditation used to feel good, now those few minutes of quiet feel essential. Of course, meditating with a lively two year old in the house is a challenge.  Finding the time to meditate has meant getting up a little earlier, changing our morning routine, and bargaining with my husband Neil about what time he leaves for work. And there are times–when we’re sick, or when Neil travels for work–that meditating in the morning seems impossible. On those days, I try to make child care my meditation.  (Here I am reading my son a book, here I am changing a diaper, mindfully…) But now that I am once again meditating most mornings, my life truly has changed.  Well, my life hasn’t changed, but the way I feel about my life has: I’m calmer, happier, more free. I’m less exhausted by the evening, and I find myself making saner decisions all day long. If you would like to start or re-start your meditation practice, my advice is to start small: Try two minutes of quiet sitting a day.  (You can gradually add on from there, but the key thing is to just get started and get into the habit.)  If I don’t meditate first thing I never will, but this won’t work for everyone.  Maybe your two–or eventually twenty–minutes will be in the evening after you put your baby to sleep, or right after dropping your child off at preschool, or at your desk right before an important meeting. Don’t worry about technique.  Just find a comfortable seated posture and let your thoughts go.  Keep bringing yourself back to the present, to the feel of the chair or block or cushion beneath you, or perhaps remember your breath.  (I like to focus on the sounds outside my window: rain, birds, wind, even a car driving by.)  Allow yourself the freedom to take a break for a sip of water, or a stretch.  There are no rules.  On the best days, maybe just for a moment you will feel your consciousness lift. Are you a mom who mediates? How do you carve out the time?  How does it change the rest of your day? Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer   (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Making Time to Meditate

This week I’m in Los Angeles for meetings with two TV networks to discuss a show idea. We’ll see what comes out of it–could be something or nothing. This is my week of practicing no expectations, and it’s hard not to “what-if” the situation to death, let me tell you! In the midst of preparing my show proposal, I got an email from a Facebook friend, Scott. He asked if I could reach out to someone he knew who had been following my videos online and might need a word of support. I told him it would be my pleasure, and started a sweet and rewarding correspondence with his friend. In gratitude for my help, Scott asked if I needed any graphic design work done–a logo, something for my website, whatever. I realized that my dowdy Word document proposal could use a little makeover to get ready for these meetings. So I asked Scott if he could take a look and add some flair. He not only designed an amazing logo, he added touches all over the proposal, including a front and back cover. Basically, he took my pumpkin and turned it into a chariot, something I never could have done on my own. The amazing thing is, he asked for nothing in return. When I asked what I could do to repay him, he said, “No way. I just know how it is, to want to chase a dream–a destiny–and to be able to get assistance makes the experience even more transforming.” Then he said one of the most noble things I’ve ever heard: “It would go against my beliefs if I was able to help you and did not.” Wow. Double wow.  Of course, this selflessness made me want to give back to him even more strongly. We each have something to give: a skill, assistance, a door that only we can open for another. When we do this without thought of reward, it becomes seva , or selfless service, according to the yogic path. Now, some people believe that if they help one person, they’ll have to help everyone. That’s only true if you’re not willing to set boundaries or are not sensitive to when your help is truly moving someone forward. It’s responsible to say no when doing so would be a drain to you or not a healthy support mechanism for the person. But none of us can do it all alone–and there are times when to refuse help is just plain energetically greedy. This ends up manifesting more lack for everyone involved, and the karmic wheel continues to turn.  The yogi learns to know the difference. If we consciously and freely offer seva at pivotal moments, we not only gain the energy of awareness and freedom in our own lives, we do one better. We help to change the world by letting in more goodness and more light. If we would all remove roadblocks for one other, while still focusing on our own life’s work, think of how much farther and faster we could go. Core Action: What could you do to make a clear road ahead for someone you know?  Core Pose: Malasana Twist This is a fantastic posture that gives you the benefits of a twist, low-back releaser, and hip opener all in one. It will free more energy for you to give–out, or in, as you wish!  Enjoy. Come into Malasana (Garland Pose) with feet wide and toes turned out the same direction as your knees.  Place your right elbow inside the right knee, and revolve your chest to the left as you stretch your left arm into the air. Lengthen through your spine as you breathe to release out your side and back body.  Hold for 5-10 breaths then switch to the other side. End with a forward fold in Malasana. Reach your arms in front of you, resting palms on the floor, and relax for a few breaths in this neutral posture.  

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Paying it Forward

It’s 7:30 in the morning, and my phone rings.  It’s my sister sounding like an undercover cop on surveillance: whispery voice, hand cupped over the phone, shifty eyes. “I really love yoga,” she says. “You have no idea how much I love yoga right now.” She’s a new yoga junkie. It happens. We arrive here from other sports, other pastimes, other loves, and we fall into yoga like matter into black holes. I’ll bet you’ve had these hushed conversations.  “What about running?” I asked a yoga friend when he first fell. “I dunno,” he said. “I don’t want to run as much. It doesn’t help my yoga.” This, from marathon runner to marathon runner. “I’m supposed to ride tomorrow, and all I want to do is go to yoga,” my sister continues. “I know,” I say. “I know the feeling.” “I can jump through to a seated position,” she says. “Learned that last night.”  “Oh yeah,” I say, knowingly. “That’s good.” “And I’m starting to get that thing about lifting my heart without sticking my front ribs out. You have no idea how good that is.” “Oh yeah?” I say. “Oh yeah,” she confirms. “And another thing: did I mention that my knees don’t hurt when I’m walking to work, now? Did I mention that?” Yeah, you did, but that’s okay. “You have no idea how good that is,” she persists. I don’t want to scare anybody, but this is the way you begin to talk to the people you love. You can go on running, cycling, and all the rest of it. No one’s going to stop you, but you might love this yoga thing more than you thought. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Thanks to yoga for the inspiration, and thanks to you for the conversation.

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Yoga Junkie

Celebrate the summer solstice by unrolling your mat in the world’s most serene, sun-drenched environment: Times Square. No, really. Join hundreds of fellow yogis on June 21 for Solstice in Times Square , a massive group yoga experience taking place at the intersection of Broadway and 7th Avenue between 46th and 47th–right in the heart of the square. The point, according to organizers, is to find tranquility and transcendence even in this, the world’s busiest, noisiest place. It’s true what they say: If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere! The event is free, but registration is required. Sessions begin at 7:30 a.m., 10:30 a.m., 12:30 p.m., and 3:30 p.m. Sign up fast–there’s a 6 p.m. class, too, but it already has a waiting list.

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Mind Over Madness

Photo: Blissed out in my favorite restorative.  It’s Lucien’s nap time, 2:30 in the afternoon, and the house is blissfully quiet. I’ve been going all day, in full productivity mode–writing, work emails, laundry, and a few hours of Lucien-care.  What I really want to do now, in this precious hour before afternoon playtime and dinner and bath, is curl up on the couch and watch Oprah. But it’s time to do yoga. (Lucien’s nap time is the only time of day I can consistently fit a home practice in.)  I wish I could say I bound off the couch and into my yoga corner every afternoon, but the truth is that most days I have to drag myself there. More often than not, my practice is a restorative sequence done wearing wool socks.  Some days I rally for standing poses and active back bends. Usually, though, I take a “yoga nap,” as my close friend Kristen Rentz Lewis, fellow mom and author of  YogaNap: Restorative Poses for Deep Relaxation,  calls it.   My absolute favorite restorative pose right now is Ardha Halasana , Supported Half-Plow Pose with a chair.  It’s helped me with everything from headaches to exhaustion, from anxiety to getting over a cold.  The catch is–I can’t get into the pose comfortably without doing several other poses first.  And so, I begin my practice.  Supta Baddha Konasana (Reclining Bound Angle Pose), Ado Mukha Svanasana (Downward-Facing Dog Pose), a headstand, a shoulder stand with the chair.  My baby monitor is on, and yes, I confess that at first I do check my iPhone in between poses for incoming emails!  But twenty minutes in, I’m always glad to be practicing.  Most days I manage to practice for an hour, and sometimes even more.  And then, if Lucien is still sleeping–fingers crossed–I get on the couch and see what’s on Oprah. Whether you’re a stay-at-home mom with a never ending to-do list, or at the office all day and need every moment at home to take care of your household and connect with your children, give yourself the gift of at least a few restorative poses done at home, in a quiet place, each week. Here are some great resources for developing a restorative home practice: The Woman’s Book of Yoga and Health: A Lifelong Guide to Wellness   (see the chapter on restoratives) by Linda Sparrowe and Patricia Walden Relax and Renew: Restful Yoga for Stressful Times   by Judith Lasater YogaNap: Restorative Poses for Deep Relaxation   by Kristen Rentz What’s your favorite restorative pose?  How do you spend nap time?   –Jessica Berger Gross Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer   (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Yoga Nap

Are you a Kundalini chant lover? Think you might be? You can find out for sure if you sign up for this year’s Spirit Fest Kundalini Yoga & Music Festival, September 17 to 19 in High View, WV. The festival promises three days of “blissing out” to the best of Kundalini chant, and has the line-up to back up the claim. Snatam, Gurmukh, GuruGanesh Singh, Mirbai Ceiba, Nirinjan Kaur, Sada Sat Kaur, Sat Kartar, Gurunam Singh, and Satkirin Kaur Khalsa–Kundalini chant superstars, each and every one–are on the bill. You can expect lots of singing, sunrise Sadhana, group meditation, and exquisite vegetarian fare; you can hope to be thoroughly uplifted and transported by the experience. Why are we telling you about this now? So you can sign up early and save some money, of course. Since the event is happening at the Timber Ridge Camp a range of accommodations (and prices) is available–you can camp in a tent, sleep in a dorm, or reserve a private room with a private bath. Children are welcome (so plan accordingly). –Hillari Dowdle

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Sat Nam Sing-a-Long

I mentioned I was visiting Toronto on the weekend, going to a new yoga studio for the first time, and doing a class with my sister (and my nephew, it turns out). I was nervous about venturing away from my home studio, and I wanted to share a few things I learned from toeing my comfort line: 1. Sun Salutations are not so different from place to place. This makes me very happy. No matter where I travel–now–I can find a home. Makes me feel warm all over, thinking that. 2. Speaking of warm all over, the studio I visited was a few degrees warmer than my home base. It only mattered when I stood up from one of those hanging my head poses (just a second, I’ll look it up – aha!) when I stood up from Prasarita Padottanasana (Wide-Legged Forward Bend), and came the closest I’ve ever come to fainting. Maybe that’s peri-menopause. Maybe it’s a surge of some fantastic yogi energy. I don’t know; it’s a new yoga mystery. 3. The chanting was completely different in this class. And it was fast. It was like trying to sing the Italian national anthem. 4. Bandas. What are they? I think I understand the idea of Bandas, but I do not have any control over them yet. Foolishly, I asked our teacher Oliver to pick a pose for our photograph (see above). This pose (I’m not looking this one up. I’ll look it up when I’m 76, when I might be able to do it!) requires some Banda control. It’s his favorite pose. It’s my least favorite pose. I just sit on the floor and make faces. 5. Speaking of faces, my head was recently shaved for a theatre production. I look like a 13-year-old boy at the moment. It’s not my favorite look. It occurs to me that I may never end up on the cover of Yoga Journal. 6. I love my sister Tory and my nephew Stefano. There’s nothing like doing a yoga class with people you love.  7. I learned again that I adore yoga. Thanks to everyone and everything that brought me here, including Tory, Stef, and Oliver. I’d like to know who would you love to do yoga with, if you could do it with anyone? Thanks to yoga for helping me grow, and thanks to you for the conversation. –Kristin Shepherd

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Cover Girl

Last night I went to ninja school. OK, that’s not its technical name, but the ancient martial art of ninjitsu is one of the forms I will be studying each week at a dojo in New York City. I’ve been interested in martial arts since I was young, but it took me until now to sign up for a class. What does this have to do with yoga? Well, after 15 years of practicing asana, I wanted to shake things up a bit. Specifically, I am attracted to the experience of beginner’s mind that is foundational in every mindful-movement style. And what better way to do this than to become an actual beginner at something once again?  I can easily bring a sense of the beginner’s perspective in the form of curiosity and openness to even my most repetitive yoga poses. And I learn a lot that way. But it’s not the same as actually beginning a new process.  There’s nothing quite like the feeling of stepping into the complete unknown and confronting the real fear that arises from doing something that you never have before. But as I entered the dojo for my first class, I understood that what I was experiencing wasn’t fear as much as it was excitement. I also recognized that this would be another opportunity to practice saucha , or cleanliness. Now, I took a shower and came into the dojo without perfume, and with nails clipped and hair back as instructed. But the type of cleaning I’m talking about goes deeper than the outer form. By purposefully stepping into a situation where I had no idea what to expect, I was organically cleared of expectation. I didn’t have a historical context to compare this moment to or experience to draw from. So I just listened, and enjoyed the clarity that comes from finding oneself with a washed-clean mind, heart, and history. My yoga practice had actually prepared me well for the movement, alignment, and knowledge of balance I needed to get through the class. I learned to stand more solidly and fall more consciously, partnering with another center of gravity in a dance with my own. But the best part about the experience was knowing that I was capable of being cleaned out on all levels, creating the space to take in a whole new view of the world. If you feel like you’re stagnating, coasting on what you know, or if you are mentally cluttered with perspectives that aren’t serving your growth and fullness of experience, try becoming a beginner. It doesn’t have to be a huge commitment. Sometimes just breaking your routine, hiking along a different path, or listening to another kind of music can spark this saucha of spirit.  The relief from the weight of your experiences will be well worth it. Core Question : What can you do to move outside your comfort zone and try something you never have? Core Pose : Crow Pose I often use Crow as a way to bring students into the unknown, so they can play at their mindful edge and move into beginner’s mind with integrity. These three approaches should get you there, no matter what level you’re at now. Go at your own pace, and don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for. 1) Flying: Plant your hands on the mat, fingers wide. Lift your heels and hips, and squeeze your elbows and knees inward. Round through your back to access core strength then float your heart forward until your elbows stack over your wrists. Keep hugging in and up, and work on flying high. 2) Jumping Back from Crow: If Crow is a breeze, maintain the containment of elbows over wrists, then hop your feet back on an exhalation into Chaturanga Dandasana. Proceed through your vinyasa to Downward-Facing Dog. 3) Jumping Forward into Crow: From Down Dog, walk your feet together and take small hops toward you hands on your exhalations. As your belly pulls in to help you lift up, your knees will widen to touch your upper arms. Over time, you will refine this action to transition into the pose without touching your feet down at all.      

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Cultivating Beginner’s Mind

Photo: On vacation with Lucien on Vancouver Island, a few months after moving to Vancouver, BC. As I posted last week, mommy-and-baby-yoga class at 6 weeks postpartum left me in tears. Instead of using asana to get back in shape, I did a lot of walking in the park. I also started going to an exercise class for new moms at a small local gym. Normally, the gym scene isn’t for me, but for some reason while my son Lucien protested the mommy-baby yoga class, he was perfectly happy to be plopped down on the mat with the other babies at the gym, listen to loud music, and watch his mommy sweat through a series of squats and lunges. So I went with it. (Lucky for me, the instructor was a yoga-loving dancer and she threw in the occasional dance or yoga pose.) When occasionally Lucien did cry, a very built man named Moe who worked the front desk would come and hold him while answering the phones. By the time Lucien was six months old, I’d lost most of the baby weight and regained feeling in my core. But I really, really missed my yoga practice. Meanwhile, we’d left New York, where we were living during my husband Neil’s academic sabbatical, and moved across coasts and countries to Vancouver, Canada where he’d taken a job as associate professor (with tenure!) at the University of British Columbia. UBC offered me a part-time teaching job in their creative writing department, too. On an earlier trip to Vancouver, with ten-week-old Lucien in tow, we’d fallen in love with the mountain views and fresh air and healthy lifestyle. But now that we’d landed there for good we started to worry. Had we made the right decision to leave the Northeast? Lonely and overwhelmed in a new city, with a new baby, I needed my yoga practice more than ever. And so, at six months post-partum, it was time for me to rejoin a regular weekly yoga class. Starting over with a different teacher was just one of the many adjustments I’d have to make to life in a new city. Fortunately, my new teacher, Louie Ettling, was just the person: caring, encouraging, and super knowledgeable to help me find my way back to my yoga practice. Louie welcomed me to her weekly two-hour level 2/3 Iyengar class, on the condition that I start my home practice up again, even if that meant just one pose a day. I was skeptical. Going to a Saturday afternoon class once a week was do-able; Neil could watch Lucien. A home practice was another thing. I didn’t know how I could fit even one pose a day into my life with a not-yet-sleeping-through-the-night infant, a house search to conduct, a new neighborhood to navigate, and a looming book deadline. Louie suggested Viparita Karani, (Legs-Up-the-Wall pose). That, I figured, was something I could do. Even if it meant holding my son on my lap while I stretched my legs up that wall, or doing the pose while watching television, I committed to one pose a day–slowly, with many ups and downs that I’ll write about later–I regained my practice. Are you a mom wanting to establish, or re-establish a home practice but feel totally overwhelmed by the prospect? Could you start by practicing just one pose a day? How about one pose a day for just one week? It could be Legs-Up-the-Wall pose, Headstand, a forward bend like Janu Sirsana ,(Head-to-the-Knee Pose) or even a particularly yummy version of Savasana (Corpse Pose). Don’t think about committing to an entire hour of practice–just think one restorative, rejuvenating pose.Please leave a comment and let me know how this changes your week. –Jessica Berger Gross Jessica Berger Gross is the author of enLIGHTened: How I Lost 40 Pounds with a Yoga Mat, Fresh Pineapples, and a Beagle Pointer   (Skyhorse), she lives in Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two-year-old son.

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Making it to the Mat

I know what you’re thinking… harem pants, really? Really! I love them and I know you can pull them off.  I also adore this yoga mat bag-finally a bag large enough to fit my yoga mat, towel, and whatever else I need to pack in there. the details: Carry All Yoga Bag, Prana Seamless Carefree Cami, Be Present Harem Pant, Athleta Inspire Bracelet, Fossil Harmony Yoga Mat, Jade Yoga   eQua Yoga Towel, Manduka   Tree Garden Curtain, Urban Outfitters   –Ali Zeigler

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Wish I was Wearing: Tangerine Threads

On Mother’s Day, I spent the morning at a workshop about the breath and spine taught by my mentor, Leslie Kaminoff. I thought it a fitting tribute to the feminine energy to hear about removing obstacles to our foundational balance, which is a very yin (feminine) journey; not one of pushing or over-striving, but of gentleness, introspection, and nurturing.   This is something my Type A side resisted for years.   When I first began studying with Leslie at the Breathing Project in New York City, I wasn’t interested in a deeper practice of pranayama. I just wanted to know what was the optimal way to breathe in yoga. Ujjayi? No Ujjayi? From the belly? With the bandhas? Which bandhas? Through the nose, the mouth, belly or chest? And how?   Like a master instructor would, he spent the next few months handing my questions right back to me without answering them definitively.   In fact, he actively tried to get me to experience my own breath in all its different forms, and let it be my ultimate teacher.   It was maddening.   However, once I learned to quiet my mind and stop controlling my breath, and allowed it to speak to me instead of always the other way around, I had my answer: There is no one perfect way to breathe in yoga.   In fact, there are innumerable ways to approach the breath. We can stop and start it, hold or release it, and send it where we want it to go. We can also do nothing at all, and simply let ourselves breathe.   When yogis don’t really understand pranayama, we tend to default to doing one breath–usually Ujjayi– in all poses. But a one-breath-fits-all approach is lacking. Deciding which breathing method you need comes down to this: “What do I want from this moment, and how can the breath support me to achieve it?” So, before the breath, even, we cultivate an inner attention. Svadhaya , or a process of inner inquiry must occur. Otherwise, it’s solely a respiration practice, which gives benefits, but is not the all-levels union of yoga.   From there, we learn to either do something ( tapas ) or surrender to what is ( ishvara pranidhana ), and in making the conscious choice, reflected in the quality of the breath, we actually can create more inner freedom instead of less.   Leslie always speaks of yoga as a process by which we remove obstacles to our true nature, like Patanjali’s parable of the farmer who must only open a dam to let the water flow and nourish his fields. We can do this every time we seek out a tight muscle and stretch it, or shift a belief that doesn’t serve our higher purpose to one that does. And you know what? I never thought I’d say it, but the art of pranayama has become quite interesting to me.   Breathing has become one way I practice the deep soul relaxation and loving kindness inherent in ahimsa (nonharming)–in this case, not causing myself injury. My pranayama protects me from dumping more anxiety, more “go-go-go,” more needing to know, more, well… more onto my plate. It’s a moving meditation where I can soften, listen intently, and just be taught for a while instead of always needing to be the teacher.   I’m curious–what has your breath had to teach you lately?   Core Pose: Tadasana (or Tadasana Samasthithi) with Breath of Freedom   I pay homage to Leslie Kaminoff by sharing one of his techniques that provides another perspective on high chest breathing. We’re often told in yoga that breathing into the upper chest causes anxiety. This is not necessarily true. Breathing short, fast, and into a limited portion of the lungs? Maybe so. But accessing the upper lobes of the lungs can actually bring you more space and relaxation, as the muscles of the neck and shoulders release from the inside out.   Stand in Tadasana (Mountain Pose) with feet sitting bone-distance apart. Ground your feet and lift long through the crown of the head.   Arms can lift and lower gently with the breath or remain at your sides.   Imagine you have two nostrils at the center of your shoulders just behind the center of each collarbone, and if you pressed down, you could contact the top of your lungs.   As you inhale and exhale, let the air flow through these areas, filling the lungs at their highest point and releasing it again through the shoulders.   Notice how this naturally causes your lower abdominals to lift and support the spine. For contrast, try taking a big belly-expanding breath and push out your navel. You’ll likely experience a drop of spinal support and ability to breathe.   Maintain the first pranayama and enjoy for 1 minute. Then begin your practice with a more spacious chest and heart center.   

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Learning to Breathe

I go to two yoga classes a week, but I do my own practice at home every single day. I adore it, and I wouldn’t miss it for much. It’s still dark when I get out of bed, I shuffle to the kitchen and make a coffee (perhaps when I am a real yogi I’ll drink something healthier), drink half of it, set the timer on the microwave, and begin. The first three Sun Salutations feel a bit tight, a bit creaky. Even my mind is tight and creaky. I’m thinking about getting my hands positioned correctly, thinking about rotating my thighs inward and pulling that lower belly in (something I have no idea how to do, still). Heels closer to the floor, shoulder blades down, etc. You know all of this. Then something or someone–some larger part of me, perhaps–begins to well up. The rabid thinking slows down. Something warm and delicious takes its place. I begin to feel more generous with my positioning. I feel happy all of a sudden, and light. Some days, about ten Sun Salutations in, this thing takes over and I go crazy, like a whirling dervish. My breath pours in and squeezes out, I’m warm from the inside out, I am strong, I am beautiful, and I am huge, somehow. Unconstrained. You should see my Warrior II pose. I fill the living room. I fill the house. I love those days. This morning was one of those days. I’d set the timer for 70 minutes and was so enormous by the end of it that I didn’t hear it go off. Best Savasana ever. Does this ever happen to you?  Thanks to yoga for making us huge, and thanks to you for the conversation. –Kristin Shepherd

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Some Days We Are Enormous