Using what you have

Often I find myself making meals with leftovers or the ingredients that I find in my fridge. This can push me into typical patterns, or can spur all manner of creativity. There are people who see a recipe and go shop for the ingredients. Many will measure these with some care and expect results that resemble the description in the instructions. I see that I am not naturally inclined in that direction in my cooking or my yoga practice.

My explorations start with seeing what's obviously there, deepen into digging for complementary or supplementary ingredients and building the design from these. An overarching concept develops, balancing the intuitive growth of the design with my actual experience. The results are always unknowable, though not entirely unpredictable.

In my cooking this results in portobello-red cabbage-poblano tacos or millet-teff-rosemary-garlic-pepper sticks. There are plenty of examples of this in my eat2thrive blog. In yoga this can evolve into a practice focused on Virabhadrasana 3, evolving lunge into its dancing, flying forms, and ending up in supine one-legged poses and a sequence of Anuloma Krama (breathing in stages with retention of breath). Unlikely that I would take someone else's formula and follow or teach it. I see now that I had trouble as a child in my violin lessons for just this reason! I wanted to follow the sound and feeling as I experienced it. This seemed to flower in chamber music and chafe in the orchestra. I learn a lot from both contexts- especially that the path to discovery and joy goes in all directions. Makes sense to me now.

Admiration for effective methodology attracts me. This is where I learn from others. I can see or experience their ways and experiment while absorbing this into my own inquiry. Since taking yoga classes, I have been deeply moved by the unfolding of this kind of personally proven processing by teachers of various yogic stripes. The offering of what a teacher has experienced has a genuine ring to it -- like the sound of a crystal ringing. I am humbled to be among them now, masquerading as one of them while still stirring around in my own cabinet for this or that to shore up the hip here or the fearful mind there... Making sweetness in the posture while adding a bit of hot sauce in the mix.

Inner Layers Align, Koshas of an Asymmetrical Body

I'm standing in my kitchen thrilled by the quintessential integrity and alignment in this little teapot by Hsin-Chuen Lin on my shelf. How can an object be so beautiful, proportioned perfectly, balanced in every way in form and function and not be symmetrical? In my own daily life, I see so many moments when my inner dialogue seems designed to keep me off balance. I think of how my mind offers me criticism, praise, observations, excuses, prompts, and shifting values in every moment, all of which push and pull me around. I'm learning that my sense of inner alignment comes from some where else, some where other than all that ongoing mental activity.  I think this little tea pot reflects inner alignment and more than just the physical skill of the potter who made it.

In my first yoga training, I was introduced to ideas about the Vedantic and yogic concept of Koshas, the layers, conceptualized as sheaths or "bodies," in which we function and experience awareness. There are said to be five of them, the physical body (Anamaya kosha), the breath body (Pranamaya kosha), the energy body (Manomaya kosha), the mental or wisdom body (Vijanamaya kosha), and the bliss body (Anandamaya kosha). Of course they have names in a number of ancient languages, but for my purposes they are layers of living awareness, each rooted in some aspect of my concept of self, and expansive in ways that are becoming more accessible to me through daily life by way of my yoga and meditation practices, and my growing mindfulness. I don't have to separate them, or define them by anyone else's terms, though sometimes what others say or experience does shed light in places where I'm not so clear. There is a delicate balance between allowing myself to let go of defining elements in order to experience reality without distortion or projection.

It is as simple as being fully present, a practice that takes everything I've got. I can allow this in anything I'm doing -- a level of cultivated awareness from which I slip in and out. In my yoga practice I take a standing pose of warrior one (Virabhadrasana I). This is similar to a standing lunge with the back leg at more of an angle and the back foot fully down on the floor so that each hip is rotating a little differently from the other. To start with, I am probably full of technical check points, sensing the difference when my left ankle is the rear support or my right ankle takes that role. My awareness scans my body - so much variation day to day, moment to moment, in this hip or those quadriceps or shoulder. First layer, Anamaya kosha indeed, full of recorded experience as well as sensations in this moment. I notice that my breath inhabits my form, operating on another level. I notice the slight twist in my ribs as I breathe, feel expansion inward and outward throughout my body, and feel that I am gaining access to my energy body, flowing inward from earth and air and outward into earth and air. I can sense dull places where there are less open channels, and vivid places that are like energy centers. In all of this my mind is awake (at least some of the time). This is not the judgmental, critical, assessing mind, but a spacious, curious mind. Beyond these sensory, physical, intellectual or emotional facets arises a inclusive connectivity, that in some inexplicable way accepts the space where I stand, the air I breathe, other living beings and myself in this without distinguishing hierarchies or values, offering a sense of total being.

All this happens with continuing messages from my stiff left ankle, knowing that my right shoulder is not level with my left, and listening for that wasp dive-buzzing the corners of the window nearby. I'm not driven towards perfection, not expecting my physical form to be symmetrical or to accomplish some kind of measurable feats in order to be worthy of my respect. My body is not unlike the little teapot, a graceful offering of internal alignment, within its functional range of motion.

Changes Moment to Moment, Practice & Life

coleus the day before freezing temperatures

Arms swinging softly from side to side as I strode down the street, I was thinking: "hips moving, shoulders moving, how lucky I am." I waited for the light to change, crossed the street, began up the next block and my feet went sliding on a sheet of black ice. My spine twisted one way and the other, my knees bent, and I straightened up to find myself standing solidly on the curb, one hand on a parked car. Wow. The other side of the street was bathed in sunlight, a dry, clear sidewalk waiting. I walked carefully across the street, taking stock of my formerly sprained ankle, scanning interior spaces for pinches, pulls or any other signs of distress.  All in one moment, an injury can change a busy life of teaching yoga into a deep practice in acceptance and letting go.  I had been grateful just a moment ago for the fluidity in my joints, the sweet synchronization of breath and body movements. A moment later, any part of me could have been significantly damaged.

I arrived 20 minutes later to teach a student who had herself had a near miss just before our session. She had been talking with a friend, crossing a street, turned and in a split second was actually hit by a cyclist. Being a cyclist herself, she was utterly astonished that she hadn't seen that coming, nor could the cyclist have predicted her hesitation and uncertainty mid-stream in crossing the street. Again, neither person was injured, though both were rattled by the turbulence in the steady pace of the day.

How many times do we take for granted the moment we are currently experiencing? I would guess most of the time. It doesn't have to be the small stuff, sometimes it is the enormity of life and death that shifts in a moment. From going off to work and handling the myriad aspects of daily family life, to signing one's life partner up for hospice after imagining that the endless uphill struggle would result in a view at the top of that hill, and a vista of an endless life of the quotidien. How on earth can we prepare for this roller coaster drama in which we all live?

In the practice of yoga or sitting for a moment to watch our mind in action in meditation, we can strengthen the muscle of mindfulness, becoming more aware of our way of operating, and more at ease with who we are. That strength of self knowledge helps focus our attention in that slippery moment, when the heart sinks below the horizon and the mind cannot close in around the ramifications.  Watching the moment, just as one watches the mind in meditation or observes the distribution of the breath in an asana, there is a real possibility to remain present, ready to accept and adapt to what is happening.  This is a baseline of practice, standing in a warrior pose (Virabhadrasana I, II or III), or twisted in a revolved triangle pose, or meeting the gaze of a grieving friend, we practice to bring the self fully present in that moment,  not fuzzy, nor lost in projection. It enables us to hold steady,  not confusing presence for control, or judgment for reality.

Warrior Walking

This morning after teaching, I experienced a remarkable synthesis of yoga and the moment in daily life. Walking home there was a saturated feeling of soft support of my bones through my contact with the earth, spaciousness in the joints of my hips and shoulders as I moved, a wide open quality in my view of the urban scene around me. There was joyousness balanced with stillness in my thoughts. I recognized this sensation as that of Virabhadrasana, the warrior, in my yoga practice. I was startled to find myself a walking warrior on the streets of Brooklyn!

What really awakens in the warrior poses? Can the gaze be soft and inclusive? Does the support felt in the foundation of the earth allow a subtle rising energy that is alert and poised? Where does the breath expand, what is releasing? Where does the mind grasp, find clarity? Can there be spaciousness in the joints and a balance of effort and ease that prepares you for whatever is around you? All of this can be going on at the same time in all of the three traditional standing warrior poses, Virabhadrasana I, II, and III.

The subtleties are in the cultivating of your awareness to enable you to take in the muscular work, the alignment of the structural elements, the softening of the edges and the gaze, the placement of the breath as a buoyant support for staying in the present moment. This allow you to stay present, not blanking out or fading away. Often in classes students are led through a vinyasa that takes them through one warrior into and out of another. In that experience there can be a collaboration of stillness and movement if the student can let go of gripping, yet hold steady to alignment and ease throughout the muscular and joint shifts. This is really not a simple endeavor, and often I see students physically muscling their way from here to there and back again. Of course a yoga practice often begins right there, at the junction of the physical and the alert awareness that effort can spark.

Experiment with remaining in the asana, exploring your own experiences in the moment, and see if you can struggle less, effort less, and notice more. Take out an element, perhaps the uplifted arms, and discover what is happening with your bones and breath. Acknowledge the emotions and the patterns that effort and resistance might bring up. See if you can soften more by attending to the quality of your breath. Then, perhaps add the arms back into your pose. Can you express the open gaze and steady heart of the warrior through the soft expansion of your collarbones from the soft center at the base of your throat all the way out to your fingertips?

Inviting Softness in the Fierce

Lots of people use yoga to tone and strengthen their bodies. It's a natural system of using the whole self, so it works pretty well for the purpose. I notice, though, how effortful this is when my students are pushing towards goals rather than being where they are. Just staying with a fairly simple asana, or posture, can be strenuous and fierce. Lately my instructions have been including this one, "soften your mind." Well, that's a strange thing to say, but I know that the mind clenches tightly when the body is muscling through something, and I see the results in the whole body when a student can release that hard grip. All the fundamentals of yoga asana come into play as I soften the mind: releasing into my foundation, finding the space in the body, relaxing effort that is not necessary to the pose, letting go of judgment about oneself, benefiting fully from the breath, and finding freedom in the moment itself.

For me Utkatasana, known also as chair pose or fierce pose, is a good asana in which to explore softening the mind, releasing resistance and enabling strength from that place of ease. Basically, this standing pose is folded as though sitting in a chair, without the chair. Weight rests in the way the feet connect to the earth, tailbone balancing lightly over the heels with knees bent, body extending through an elongated spine, energy flowing from the earth through the top of the head. We can do lots of different things with our arms in this posture -- shoulders remain easy, neck relaxed. That seems like a joke! Most people tighten everything - especially the shoulders and neck, but it's not necessary at all for the pose. The state of mind is often reflected in the state of the jaw -- clenched tightly! This is a total waste of energy.

I recommend drinking in the breath in Utkatasana. Drawing a full breath up from the deepest place brings a sense of buoyancy to the body, releasing tension on the exhale in the form of consciously letting go of the shoulder and jaw gripping. It is an exploration of keeping the belly soft enough to expand with breath, while drawing the core muscles up and into the energy center. This brings a wonderful feeling of the body hovering over the base rather than that crunching tight gripping in the thighs and lower back. Imagine that your breath is energy flowing through you, bringing ease throughout the body.

Yoga practice can redefine fierceness as well as softness. Warrior pose (Virabhadrasana) can be a light balance of core body over extended legs, and it is the drawing of energy through the whole being that creates that sense of fierceness as well as grace and ease. Relaxed muscles respond much faster than gripping ones, making ease in the warrior a vital trait. The same is true for Utkatasana, that ease will make this "fierce pose" one of lightness and joy. Allow the mind to let go of judgment and attachment to performance and the body can release the associated anxieties and fears. With much amazement, you may find Utkatasana a welcome space for your heart energy to expand!

Listening to Your Body's Wisdom

Yoga can be adapted to bring benefits to any body. When I first began my practice, every part of me had something to say after each yoga class! I discovered spaces and muscles in them between my ribs that I had just never known before. My legs would shake in standing poses, and my breathing would be slower than that which the teacher was directing. My shoulders were chronically tight. Gradually my body began to find its way into the patterns of breath and movements. After 8 years of experience, my yoga practice always begins with awakening of this deep coordination of breath and muscular activity. My hips stiffen every night, my shoulders need to respond to an exploration of their range of motion before I ask any thing else of them. Though my legs have flexibility, the big hamstrings need to warm up before going for a full forward bend.

The first aspect of a safe and healthy practice is to let the judgments of yourself go. In order to listen to my own body and use it fully as the vehicle for my practice, I have to be willing to notice its actual condition without the overlay of pre-set ideas about myself. My students quickly discover that it is their own knee and hamstring combination that will tell them how long a stride to take in their warrior pose (Virabhadrasana I). Whether long or short, it is the knee over the ankle that will protect their joints, softening the shoulders, finding the breath deeply moving through, and this is what will allow them to continue to explore the openness in their hips, and the ease of their spine. It is through this process of finding their foundation that begins to release into the support that allows longer holding of the asana and movement within it. Overriding their own needs, and over-reaching cuts off all the possibilities. As the body opens, so does the stride. Taking a posture to look a certain way without listening to your own body is not yoga.

So it's great to take a beginning class, a slow flow class or a more technical take-the-asana-apart workshop in order to work with a teacher who can offer the adaptations and reasons why using a block or a blanket will help you gain the benefits of a posture. Teachers usually explore a series of postures and preparatory actions that help open your body, your breath and your mind for the more advanced asana to come. At each step along the way, noticing what you can relax and release, noticing the source of your foundational support, and keeping your attention on the breath will help bring you deeper and deeper into your practice, no matter what "shape" you are in.

Passing through Warrior

This first day of winter I am caught by the softness of the tangled branches of trees as they are edged in the pale slanting winter sun light. They reach out to the emptiness of sky, muscular and solid in their trunks and yet openly fragile in their end buds, patiently awaiting spring warmth. Their roots, invisible, extend beyond the frozen surface of earth and rest among the suspended lives of all that hibernates below us, perhaps gently absorbing moisture from the rushing ground waters buried even deeper than that. Just now they embody the asana of Warrior (Virabhadrasana) to me.

So often in yoga we pass through the warrior poses, Virabhadrasana I, II or III. Sometimes it is part of a sun salutation, sometimes it is where all the warming up leads and the pinnacle of the practice before we slow it down with backbends, twists and inversions. To me, today, the warrior is the exquisite expression of being, living on earth.

I rise to Virabhadrasana I - warrior, having opened hips, having warmed shoulders, having explored Tadasana feet and the ability to allow release where I do not need effort. The warrior puts me on my feet, yet they are spread wide, and my hips are loosely holding legs that fiercely stretch to the front and back of me. Balancing on mountain feet, acknowledging their full press and expansiveness, I find the outer edges of my back foot and the heel and ball of the front foot. In the midst of this, literally, my torso is supported effortlessly by its natural spinal bouyancy. I extend my arms above me, releasing my shoulders and extending my core through my wrists (Virab. I) or parallel to my legs (Virab II) which opens my heart, gently twists my spine and spirals open my hips too. Perhaps taking flight from here to lean on the bouyant air itself, deepening the trust and resolve of one leg into the earth, I stretch up, squaring my hips over the standing leg, extending horizontally from heel to top of my skull for Virabhadrasana III.

Staying in warrior for several breaths changes everything about being. Allowing the body to find support between earth's balance and breath's undulation, letting the core energy rise quietly into extended arms and legs that rest mid-air, turning my gaze towards whatever may be inside or outside of me, in front or behind me, visible or invisible, I can open my heart, release my weight to the earth, and rise energetically to meet the moment.

In any moment of life there's not more or less than this, this is it. Finding and removing the blindfolds and blockages I use to separate myself into bits and from the moment transforms my experience. Warrior by its very nature unifies me and in that stance, even a fleeting warrior pose moving to and from another asana, reminds me to draw the earth and sky into the core of my being.

Balancing strength and resolve with the releasing of will, I can surrender defenses and excuses, and allow myself the freedom of being fully present, integrated. In that condition I can take the coldest wind, the most confusing or devastating personal dynamic, and even the dangerously divisive nature of our current national politics. Warm yourself up and explore finding your warrior in you.