...on the mat.
I love the Sunday morning classes. The teacher is graceful, detailed, kind, and has the sweetest energy around her. We've been focusing on each chakra for the past 6 weeks, and today was the final installment, the crown chakra. We practiced without music today, which I do like. And from the start, I was able to deeply meditate in the resting poses.
Today, as she narrated, I could feel lots of micromovements especially in my spine and hips. Lots of little adjustments were going on (of course, just seeing my chiro helps too), and I could feel my spine and neck lengthening, even in millimeters. What kept coming to my mind was abundance. Each time I'd feel a lengthening, it was about abundance. Abundance of grace, of movement, of spirit, of community.
Then we got to full wheel (backbend) at the end. OK, I admit it, I'm terrified to full wheel. At one time, many moons ago, I could do a great backbend, even from a standing position. But the years of course, take their toll. And now between wrists and neck and low back, full wheel would be nice but.....
I suddenly remember my father commenting that if I did a backbend every day, I'd never lose it. And although we had sort of a love/hate relationship, I have to give this one to him. I stopped doing backbends in high school.
But even that thought, and a tad of grief over this loss of mobility, did not take from the sensation of abundance that I felt on the mat this morning.
During final savasana, I truly drifted somewhere. I have no idea what the teacher said at that pont, I was totally quiet in mind and body and not even aware of the surroundings. That is abundance.
Om Shanti ....
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Lessons....
..in compassion.
This week as has been a bit of a challenge. As a family nurse practitioner, I see individuals with all sorts of acute and chronic health issues. Our clinic provides "urgent care" appointments that are designed to deal with one minor problem in a 15 minute slot. On Tuesday, a woman presented stating she only needed a blood test after being in the emergency room the day before. Of course, there was a lot more to the story.
I can't really go into details here, but suffice to say, she was a study in lack of self care. At first, I was angry with her for letting her health go to such dire extremes. Medically, I knew what I had to do, but I was letting too many emotions get in the way. I was losing my grounding... fast. So I excused myself on the pretext of checking on something and went back to my office to breathe for a short while and plan my approach. This was not going to be usual 15 minute appointment.
Becoming more grounded helped me re-prioritize and take another approach. Find out what was most important to her and see her issues thru the eyes of compassion and not judgement. We took care of the most urgent medical issues and constructed a plan for at home care. (And its working, I saw her back today and she's much improved.... not perfect but doing a lot better)
The whole situation played on my mind all day. Off to yoga after work. My teacher started class with a chant, and while I don't know which chant he used or what it meant, it touched me on many levels. Big tears ran down my face thru the whole chant and thru our breathing exercises. The thought came to my mind: If I can extend that level of compassion to this patient I've never before met, why can't I regard myself in the same way?
Whew..... and whew.
I was a tearful mess thru the whole class. Afterwards, I was able to talk to my teacher and share what had just happened. He was so supportive and calm, as he always is. And suddenly the weight lifted and has not returned. What a magnificent reminder... a sublime lesson.
Tonight was a joyful practice... not one of tears or deep pain. Just the joy of pranayama and asana.... and a peaceful compassionate heart.
This week as has been a bit of a challenge. As a family nurse practitioner, I see individuals with all sorts of acute and chronic health issues. Our clinic provides "urgent care" appointments that are designed to deal with one minor problem in a 15 minute slot. On Tuesday, a woman presented stating she only needed a blood test after being in the emergency room the day before. Of course, there was a lot more to the story.
I can't really go into details here, but suffice to say, she was a study in lack of self care. At first, I was angry with her for letting her health go to such dire extremes. Medically, I knew what I had to do, but I was letting too many emotions get in the way. I was losing my grounding... fast. So I excused myself on the pretext of checking on something and went back to my office to breathe for a short while and plan my approach. This was not going to be usual 15 minute appointment.
Becoming more grounded helped me re-prioritize and take another approach. Find out what was most important to her and see her issues thru the eyes of compassion and not judgement. We took care of the most urgent medical issues and constructed a plan for at home care. (And its working, I saw her back today and she's much improved.... not perfect but doing a lot better)
The whole situation played on my mind all day. Off to yoga after work. My teacher started class with a chant, and while I don't know which chant he used or what it meant, it touched me on many levels. Big tears ran down my face thru the whole chant and thru our breathing exercises. The thought came to my mind: If I can extend that level of compassion to this patient I've never before met, why can't I regard myself in the same way?
Whew..... and whew.
I was a tearful mess thru the whole class. Afterwards, I was able to talk to my teacher and share what had just happened. He was so supportive and calm, as he always is. And suddenly the weight lifted and has not returned. What a magnificent reminder... a sublime lesson.
Tonight was a joyful practice... not one of tears or deep pain. Just the joy of pranayama and asana.... and a peaceful compassionate heart.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
There's no place like.....
....Om.
I love the chanting of yoga classes. To sing/chant the universal sound of Om at the beginning of class signals my break from the everyday world to the domain of practice. At the end of class, Om feels like a summary, a conclusion, a completeness.
Over the past few months, I've noticed that in my usual class, the Om is slightly off key and dissonant in the beginning, but by the end the resonance is pure and consistent. I see it as the joining of energies thru the practice into one community of voice.
This article came across my consciousness this week. Good background info for a sound, a symbol that seems to be everywhere. I hear a union in Om, a blending of sound and hearts and minds. When I chant Om in class or alone, I sense a deep connection with all that is life and love and peace.
This past weekend was our annual yoga festival. I've been to the festival in the past 2 years, but have not been brave enough to actually take classes.... I just didn't feel good enough! But this year, I braved the waters and jumped in.
At first, I felt very at home and a sense of unity of purpose, but as the first day's classes proceeded, some egos started to emerge. I can recognize who I resonate with and who I don't..... and picked up some really weird vibes from some of the teachers and participants.
But what I noticed the most was the disharmony of the Oms in most of the classes. A disharmony that did not go away by the end of class. In each class, there were one or two voices that just had to be louder, or longer, or just off the mark. It was sort of ugly a few times, blatant discordance in a culture that should be (IMHO) should be directed toward similar goals. Rather than blending, they needed to stand out. And that, to me, is antithetical to all the yoga means.
This article from Elephant Journal raises some excellent questions. In spite of our shared goals, lines are being drawn. Competitions exist, hierarchy emerges. That's not why I practice.
I practice for my own health, serenity, and healing. I practice to blend my energies, my breath, my essence.
I love the chanting of yoga classes. To sing/chant the universal sound of Om at the beginning of class signals my break from the everyday world to the domain of practice. At the end of class, Om feels like a summary, a conclusion, a completeness.
Over the past few months, I've noticed that in my usual class, the Om is slightly off key and dissonant in the beginning, but by the end the resonance is pure and consistent. I see it as the joining of energies thru the practice into one community of voice.
This article came across my consciousness this week. Good background info for a sound, a symbol that seems to be everywhere. I hear a union in Om, a blending of sound and hearts and minds. When I chant Om in class or alone, I sense a deep connection with all that is life and love and peace.
This past weekend was our annual yoga festival. I've been to the festival in the past 2 years, but have not been brave enough to actually take classes.... I just didn't feel good enough! But this year, I braved the waters and jumped in.
At first, I felt very at home and a sense of unity of purpose, but as the first day's classes proceeded, some egos started to emerge. I can recognize who I resonate with and who I don't..... and picked up some really weird vibes from some of the teachers and participants.
But what I noticed the most was the disharmony of the Oms in most of the classes. A disharmony that did not go away by the end of class. In each class, there were one or two voices that just had to be louder, or longer, or just off the mark. It was sort of ugly a few times, blatant discordance in a culture that should be (IMHO) should be directed toward similar goals. Rather than blending, they needed to stand out. And that, to me, is antithetical to all the yoga means.
This article from Elephant Journal raises some excellent questions. In spite of our shared goals, lines are being drawn. Competitions exist, hierarchy emerges. That's not why I practice.
I practice for my own health, serenity, and healing. I practice to blend my energies, my breath, my essence.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
More layers...
...some above and some below.
I've been waking up early this week. Like an hour before the alarm. I've always wanted to be more of a morning person, maybe that's happening. For the last several mornings, I've gotten up and headed to a quiet room in the house to sit in meditation for a while. This is a new layer for me.... a quiet sitting meditation.
I've attempted to cultivate a meditation practice on many occasions, but somehow the discipline fails to stick for an extended period of time. I know I can quiet my mind by sewing or knitting, listening to soft music or yogic chanting, but just sitting in silence has been a challenge. I can easily slide into quiet in a yoga class, but somehow, at home, its different. My thoughts race from one thing to another rather than stillness.
I often use a mala and repeat a mantra .... that helps .... but the cultivation of true silence is still elusive. This morning, my head was swimming with the tasks of the day, problem solving, or reflecting on how stiff my knees are in the morning.
Tis the next layer to explore....
I've been waking up early this week. Like an hour before the alarm. I've always wanted to be more of a morning person, maybe that's happening. For the last several mornings, I've gotten up and headed to a quiet room in the house to sit in meditation for a while. This is a new layer for me.... a quiet sitting meditation.
I've attempted to cultivate a meditation practice on many occasions, but somehow the discipline fails to stick for an extended period of time. I know I can quiet my mind by sewing or knitting, listening to soft music or yogic chanting, but just sitting in silence has been a challenge. I can easily slide into quiet in a yoga class, but somehow, at home, its different. My thoughts race from one thing to another rather than stillness.
I often use a mala and repeat a mantra .... that helps .... but the cultivation of true silence is still elusive. This morning, my head was swimming with the tasks of the day, problem solving, or reflecting on how stiff my knees are in the morning.
Tis the next layer to explore....
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Layers....
...upon layers.
This move to the new facility has been interesting to say the least. What I've been noticing is that we can only work in layers. This has to be done before that can be done. For example, I can't finish prepping my exam rooms until the computer wall mounts are up and the computers get off the counters. The computers can't get mounted and installed until the IT guys have time and they have been busy with the servers. The printers can't be installed (also on the counter tops) til the grommets get installed. Whew. It gets confusing.
Layer upon layer.
Moving an entire university division into a new building (approved December 2007, completed [almost] July 2011) is a huge undertaking and I've had time to make sure my assignments are done, without worrying about the bigger picture at this point. I'm staying grounded for the most part, although yesterday was a harder day and I was exhausted by last night. I keep reminding myself that I'm not in charge of this or that, and letting go of the rest.
My yoga teacher is back from Peru and it was so good to see him tonight. It was an amazing class and the energy in the room was so delightful. I almost cried with pure joy several times during the class. I was in my element and found new layers there. My mind immediately quieted as class began, breathing was effortless, poses were deeper. The past 3 weeks have been time for integration and appreciation, and tonight, a joyful practice, in celebration of the sense of being home.
Om Shanti... Om.
This move to the new facility has been interesting to say the least. What I've been noticing is that we can only work in layers. This has to be done before that can be done. For example, I can't finish prepping my exam rooms until the computer wall mounts are up and the computers get off the counters. The computers can't get mounted and installed until the IT guys have time and they have been busy with the servers. The printers can't be installed (also on the counter tops) til the grommets get installed. Whew. It gets confusing.
Layer upon layer.
Moving an entire university division into a new building (approved December 2007, completed [almost] July 2011) is a huge undertaking and I've had time to make sure my assignments are done, without worrying about the bigger picture at this point. I'm staying grounded for the most part, although yesterday was a harder day and I was exhausted by last night. I keep reminding myself that I'm not in charge of this or that, and letting go of the rest.
My yoga teacher is back from Peru and it was so good to see him tonight. It was an amazing class and the energy in the room was so delightful. I almost cried with pure joy several times during the class. I was in my element and found new layers there. My mind immediately quieted as class began, breathing was effortless, poses were deeper. The past 3 weeks have been time for integration and appreciation, and tonight, a joyful practice, in celebration of the sense of being home.
Om Shanti... Om.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Going with....
...the flow.
The move is coming along. Computers are going on line (still no charting system available, maybe tomorrow), old building is almost empty (5 of my boxes are missing in action, but they will turn up), lots of shopping trips to Target (retail therapy on the clock), building issues (like who signed off on data ports with no associated power outlets?). Some tempers are short, everyone is tired. Except me.
I'm strangely invigorated by the adventure. Just going with the flow. Having my computer on line was the first blessing, I somehow didn't feel cut off from civilization. I make lists of stuff to bring and to buy, and I've been able to leave early yesterday and today.
Even the delivery of my boxes from the old building made me supremely happy today. OK, I'm weird.
On my iPod right now is The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. I think this has a lot to do with my upbeat frame of mine. Gretchen, an author and former attorney, spent a year studying and implementing a plan to increase her own happiness. Her list of Personal Commandments (on the right side of the website) immediately resonated with me. And her Secrets of Adulthood made me laugh and cry in the same 3 minutes. (Gretchen: I would add one to the Secret List: You must be present to win!)
Her insights are sound, her advice is spot on, and listening to her while I work has been a point of happiness in and of itself. I find myself nodding in agreement as she chronicles her insights from month to month.
This week's resolution on her website is to "make something by hand." As a quilter, I made stuff by hand all the time, and I reflected on how much joy (sometimes... no, often... peppered with frustration) that this avocation brings me. I made a mala for my yoga teacher before he left for Peru. For 2 hours, I sat beading and knotting and adding a prayer with each bead. Not only was I intensely happy making it, but he was so happy to receive it. It was a meditation of pure joy.
Rudyard Kipling's poem If just popped into my mind. OK, so its a little sexist (how bout adding a daughter to that last line?), but it surely resonates with my sense of going with the flow. Especially the iconic first stanzas:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
And I would add (paraphrasing the sage advice of my river friends):
The move is coming along. Computers are going on line (still no charting system available, maybe tomorrow), old building is almost empty (5 of my boxes are missing in action, but they will turn up), lots of shopping trips to Target (retail therapy on the clock), building issues (like who signed off on data ports with no associated power outlets?). Some tempers are short, everyone is tired. Except me.
I'm strangely invigorated by the adventure. Just going with the flow. Having my computer on line was the first blessing, I somehow didn't feel cut off from civilization. I make lists of stuff to bring and to buy, and I've been able to leave early yesterday and today.
Even the delivery of my boxes from the old building made me supremely happy today. OK, I'm weird.
On my iPod right now is The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. I think this has a lot to do with my upbeat frame of mine. Gretchen, an author and former attorney, spent a year studying and implementing a plan to increase her own happiness. Her list of Personal Commandments (on the right side of the website) immediately resonated with me. And her Secrets of Adulthood made me laugh and cry in the same 3 minutes. (Gretchen: I would add one to the Secret List: You must be present to win!)
Her insights are sound, her advice is spot on, and listening to her while I work has been a point of happiness in and of itself. I find myself nodding in agreement as she chronicles her insights from month to month.
This week's resolution on her website is to "make something by hand." As a quilter, I made stuff by hand all the time, and I reflected on how much joy (sometimes... no, often... peppered with frustration) that this avocation brings me. I made a mala for my yoga teacher before he left for Peru. For 2 hours, I sat beading and knotting and adding a prayer with each bead. Not only was I intensely happy making it, but he was so happy to receive it. It was a meditation of pure joy.
Rudyard Kipling's poem If just popped into my mind. OK, so its a little sexist (how bout adding a daughter to that last line?), but it surely resonates with my sense of going with the flow. Especially the iconic first stanzas:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
And I would add (paraphrasing the sage advice of my river friends):
Keep your head above water
and
your feet down stream...
and you'll get to the shore.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Be a....
...Tree.
Before he left for Peru, my teacher gave me homework, most of which I've been doing very consistently. I've been breathing, thinking, journalling, going to my yoga classes.... and being a tree.
My office is in the midst of moving from a 46 year old facility to a new building and today was the last day in the old digs. Boxes are packed, desks moving out, computers going down, the normal chaos of moving a staff of 35 people, and all the gear that goes along with a health care practice. The new building still is not ready, the punch list is miles long and by this afternoon, we still didn't have full electrical power.
At our last session, my teacher told me about this teaching from Thich Nhat Hanh... and of course, I had to find it on the internet.....
A strong emotion is like a storm. If you look at a tree in a storm, the top of the tree seems fragile, like it might break at any moment. You are afraid the storm might uproot the tree. But if you turn your attention to the trunk of the tree, you realize that its roots are deeply anchored in the ground, and you see that the tree will be able to hold.
You too are a tree. During a storm of emotion, you should not stay at the level of the head or the heart, which are like the top of the tree. You have to leave the heart, the eye of the storm and come back to the trunk of the tree. Your trunk is one centimeter below your navel. Focus there, parying attention only to the movement of your abdomen, and continue to breathe. Then you will survive the storm of strong emotion.
It is essential to understand that an emotion is merely something that arises, remains, and then goes away. A storm comes, it stays a while, and then it moves away. At the critical moment, remember that you are much more than your emotions. This is a simple thing that everybody knows, but you may need to be reminded of it: you are much more than your emotions. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh
The storm was raging around me all week... packing, trying to see students and patients, numerous people being upset for this reason or that. I was able to stay fairly focused, calm, and productive. Even our manager asked me why I looked so calm (meditating at lunch might have a lot to do with it).
The anxiety in the building got pretty thick.... but I kept focusing on being a tree. Somehow it will all work out!
Before he left for Peru, my teacher gave me homework, most of which I've been doing very consistently. I've been breathing, thinking, journalling, going to my yoga classes.... and being a tree.
My office is in the midst of moving from a 46 year old facility to a new building and today was the last day in the old digs. Boxes are packed, desks moving out, computers going down, the normal chaos of moving a staff of 35 people, and all the gear that goes along with a health care practice. The new building still is not ready, the punch list is miles long and by this afternoon, we still didn't have full electrical power.
At our last session, my teacher told me about this teaching from Thich Nhat Hanh... and of course, I had to find it on the internet.....
A strong emotion is like a storm. If you look at a tree in a storm, the top of the tree seems fragile, like it might break at any moment. You are afraid the storm might uproot the tree. But if you turn your attention to the trunk of the tree, you realize that its roots are deeply anchored in the ground, and you see that the tree will be able to hold.
You too are a tree. During a storm of emotion, you should not stay at the level of the head or the heart, which are like the top of the tree. You have to leave the heart, the eye of the storm and come back to the trunk of the tree. Your trunk is one centimeter below your navel. Focus there, parying attention only to the movement of your abdomen, and continue to breathe. Then you will survive the storm of strong emotion.
It is essential to understand that an emotion is merely something that arises, remains, and then goes away. A storm comes, it stays a while, and then it moves away. At the critical moment, remember that you are much more than your emotions. This is a simple thing that everybody knows, but you may need to be reminded of it: you are much more than your emotions. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh
The storm was raging around me all week... packing, trying to see students and patients, numerous people being upset for this reason or that. I was able to stay fairly focused, calm, and productive. Even our manager asked me why I looked so calm (meditating at lunch might have a lot to do with it).
The anxiety in the building got pretty thick.... but I kept focusing on being a tree. Somehow it will all work out!
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