Archive for the ‘lifestyle’ Category

change

Thursday, September 2nd, 2010

Change is the one thing we can count on. Everything changes.

Change is good. Change can be hard.

In business, change is essential. It means paying attention to the needs of the organization (organism) and the community, as well as being aware of how the product or service can be fine tuned.

As with everything, it’s an evolution.

We have some exciting changes coming up with our class schedule over the next month; we are also saying goodbye and hello:

Tamara is moving to the Bay Area. We miss her already and wish her all the best.

Meanwhile, Marley has moved here from Baltimore. She walked in and it was as though she was coming home after being gone for a while.

Beginnings and endings for both women, and for us.



The schedule changes below will happen somewhat in stages (dates indicated). By October, we’ll be full swing.

Thank you for your support, patience, feedback, community and love. If you weren’t here, we couldn’t be either.

And now announcing….

—–
Starting Monday, September 13th

Monday/Wednesday 6 am canceled
Tuesday 6-7 am All Yoga 1-3 with Sethyne
Thursday 6-7 am Gentle Flow 1-2 with Silvia
Friday 6-7 am All Yoga Flow 1-3 with Sethyne

Tuesday 7:15 pm All Yoga 1-2/Restorative with Alicia
Thursday 7:15 pm All Yoga 1-3 with Alicia

—–
Starting September 20th

Monday 4:30 pm All Yoga/Yin 1-2 with Bob
Tuesday 5:45 pm All Yoga 1-2 with Kim

—–
Starting September 27th

Monday 7:15 pm Yang Yin 2-3 with Marley

—–
Starting October 5th

Tuesday & Thursday 10-11:15 am All Yoga Flow 2-3 with Marley
Wednesday 8-9:15 am Gentle/Adaptive Yoga 1-2 with Marley

—–
We are also committed to ending classes on time. We respect your schedule and the importance of adhering to advertised class times.

We look forward to the continued evolution of the business and community of It’s All Yoga. Check out the full schedule online for the most current teachers and times. Namaste!

Groovy

Wednesday, August 18th, 2010

Why is it so hard to be consistent with my yoga practice?

This is a question I get a lot. It’s a question I ask of myself.

A pattern—whether of thought (the mind coming up with “more important” things to do than yoga) or action (mindlessly taking the route home rather than to the yoga studio)—creates a habit and a corresponding neurosignature, or groove, in the brain.

These grooves are strengthened with repetition and attention.

Think of driving a car along two grooves: it’s challenging (and bumpy) to get the tires up and over those grooves and onto a new path. Anyone feel stuck in a rut?

In yoga speak, we call these patters Samskaras: patterns in the consciousness. Samskaras are also strengthened with repetition and attention. And, yes, it’s challenging and bumpy to change them.

Ah, but it is possible.

The irony here is the same thing that makes it so hard to change is the same thing that will make a new pattern easier.

We have to start by replacing a pattern with a new pattern (as my friend Havi says, the only thing that will stop a pattern is another pattern). And the we have to strengthen it with repetition and attention, thus creating a groove—this time a chosen one. Eventually (21 days, so they say), the new groove will be stronger than the old one. And then we have a habit.

Sounds so easy, right?

No, not really.

What we need is Tapas (no, not the yummy Spanish finger food). Tapas is one of the foundations of yoga. Tapas translates as heat or fire. It’s that transformational quality that brings forth something new. That heat expresses itself as zeal, discipline, and intentionality. It’s a stick-with-it-ness.

We need Tapas to get us out of bed in the morning, to meet the deadline, to get us onto the yoga mat. We need it to get our tires out of those grooves and onto the frontier.

Are you trying to create a new habit but feeling stuck in your rut? Try these tips for re-routing a groove:

+ Name the pattern you want to start (yoga practice 3 times a week)
+ Consider the importance of this new pattern (journal, sit with, vision board)
+ Identify the current pattern/challenge (I keep forgetting my yoga clothes)
+ Short circuit the current pattern by making a new one (get clothes out the night before)
+ Create reminders for yourself to support the new pattern (sticky note on nightstand)
+ Use Tapas to stick to new pattern (no matter what, get out of bed and get clothes out)

Even with tips and tricks and Tapas, starting and sticking to a new pattern can be hard work. The other qualities of your practice such as compassion, forgiveness, and gratitude will be essential as you forge a new path. Life is cyclical and dynamic and will change just when we think we have it figured out!

If there’s any way we can support you and your grooves, please let us know.

Containers

Thursday, August 5th, 2010

From Gabrielle Roth’s book Connections:

We spend much of our lives creating containers—forms, vocations, belief systems, ambitions, and explanations for why we are here—but they are only containers. When those containers are crushed, which they eventually will be, we discover something that endures beyond them—the human heart, the soul, the Mystery, the instinct to embrace our Source unconditionally. And so it is ultimately here, exulting in the bond and inspiration of life itself, that we intuit our own spiritual path and find our destiny.

And so it is with our yoga practice; we can get so caught up in the pose—the container—we sometimes forget about the importance of the experience of—the contents.

As a yoga teacher, it’s a delicate balance between not giving enough information and guidance in a pose and giving so much information there’s no room for one’s own experience.

Culturally we are conditioned toward perfection, which can come across on the yoga mat in a number of ways: We want to do the pose “right;” we are used to being told what and where to feel; always wanting to maximize the experience, to do more.

These are not bad qualities. The certainly have their place in optimizing our time and efforts. And why not live to our fullest in each moment?!

Still, it can be a wonderful experiment to shift attention from the container to the feeling underneath, inside, and around that container. What if the Warrior II is textbook on target (depending on which text book you’re referring to!) but there’s pain, shortness of breath, and dis-ease in the body?

And the ultimate challenge of doing less… less than you usually do, less than you know you can. Then watch the ego, the mind, the heart, the physicality: what is the response inside the container?

Just a little Thursday fodder… a little stirring of the contents!

Please feel free to share thought in the comments. Until next time…

fuzz

Thursday, July 29th, 2010

Did you know that you grow fuzz at night? On your muscles.

Yup. In between otherwise slippery and sliding surfaces, “fuzz” grows. It creates that sticky, achy feeling you have in the morning.

If the fuzz is not stretched off, you can start to feel fuzzed over, and eventually it will harden and affect your comfort and range of motion. Watch the scientific fuzz talk, just know there are brief clips of cadavers (and their fuzz).

This makes me think about other places that can get stuck, rigid, fuzzy: we can feel “fuzzy headed,” we can grow fuzz between the otherwise smooth places in a relationship, we can feel stuck in a pattern rather than in flowing with possibility.

It can get so fuzzy!

Yoga de-fuzzes you. It makes literal space in your body. It get things sliding and smooth again in your body and life. It helps stretch your mind. It’s that feeling you have after a practice. You know the one. The “ahhhh.”

I hope all this fuzz talk has encouraged you to sit up a little taller, maybe take a stretch or a yawn, keep those sticky areas of your body loose and slippery.

Fuzz-free.

We are excited to offer many fuzz-busting opportunities this fall—amazing classes and events to sustain you in your practice. As always, we’d love to hear how you’re doing and how we can support you. Feel free to leave a comment!

The old king

Thursday, July 15th, 2010

There once was an old king who dreamed that a red owl came into the throne room and plucked the crown right from his head and then flew through the marble halls and past the tapestries and out the open door with the crown in his beak, hooting all the while.

The king chased the owl through the castle and out onto the grounds and finally into a dark forest.

Give it back, I want it back, the king shouted as he ran.

The owl disappeared and the king stopped running and held very still. The forest was dark and he could hear the murmur of sleeping birds and the rush of a hidden stream. He tipped his head back and looked up and was astonished to see hundreds of stars pulsing quietly in the blue black sky.

When we awoke from the dream, the king got out of bed and put his crown firmly on his head. He went to the window and pulled the curtain aside and stood and looked out at his darkened kingdom.

The queen said, What are you doing standing there in your nightdress with your crown on your head? You look like a fool.

And then she went back to sleep.

The king walked from his bedroom and into the throne room; he went down the marble halls and past the tapestries and out the great door.

The sentry standing guard said Sire, are you in need of assistance? but the king walked past him without saying a word. He walked over the manicured lawns and into the dark forest.

And then he stopped.

He took the crown off and bent his head back and looked up.

And there they were, just as they had been in the dream: stars, hundreds of them, thousands of them, too many stars to count or own, all of them glowing in the night sky.

An owl hooted.

The old king laughed.

~Kate Dicamillo

Where’s the Silence?

Thursday, April 29th, 2010

Thank you for the dedicated time to renew my commitment to take better care of myself both physically and spiritually.

Everything—the nuances of the yoga (even poses we do all the time), the readings, amazing views and scenery, being cared and cooked for, swimming under the stars—brought heart and soul into my practice.

This is feedback from the Summer Solstice retreat last year.

There is nothing like going on retreat.

For the past two years I have attended the Women’s Retreat at Spirit Rock Meditation Center.

Nothing like seven days of silence and meditation to show you what you’ve been hiding behind: the internet, a 100 mile an hour pace, an overload of work and obligation. These distractions get loud and heavy and the real messages of the body and heart drown. Sometimes we feel like we’re drowning.

This is where I am right now.

And sadly, this year I cannot go to the retreat.

So I’ve decided two things:

First, to take this weekend (which is the start of the Women’s Retreat) as a self-guided silent meditation weekend at home.

My husband will be out of town. I can unplug my computer and turn off the phone. That’s the “easy” part.

There also will be no music, no reading, writing, or talking. (The dogs will definitely wonder what’s up!)

I will superimpose the retreat schedule over my day—sitting and walking meditations, meals, work period, yoga, listening to one dharma talk in the evening (the exception to the silent rule), and early to bed/early to rise.

I am nervous about this experiment. Afraid I will not have the discipline to stick with it.

I am also sad to not have the support (albeit silent) of the other women at the retreat. Community makes so much difference.

Which leads to my second decision: to suggest that the Summer Solstice retreat in Calistoga in June be computer- and internet-free.

This might not sound like a big deal, and maybe it isn’t for you. But for many of us, hopping on to check email, or Googling one little thing (which leads to to 14 other things and two hours later…) borders on obsession.

We might have moments of going inside, getting in touch with ourselves but get we get only so far before hopping online brings us back “out” and away from that soft center where truth and contentment and joy live.

A yoga retreat allows us the opportunity to get quiet (even if it’s not silent) in a different way. To build relationships with others without one eye on the voice mail.

It allows us the opportunity to disconnect from our regular patterns and reconnect with what is Big and Real and Essential in our lives.

I wish for all of us what last year’s Solstice retreatant connected with: a dedicated time to renew my commitment to take better care of myself both physically and spiritually.

If you are longing to make that connection, come to the Solstice retreat. You can see the details here, and I’m happy to discuss anything that might make coming more possible for you. Just email me at michelle@itsallyoga.com.

I’ll get back to you after the weekend =)

xo
Michelle

Spring

Tuesday, March 30th, 2010

Ah… Spring.

Unpredictable, enchanting, maddening. There are new buds. There are things that have died off and need to be removed. In some ways it encompasses the full cycle of life.

More so than usual this year, I find myself fighting with the weather:

I wish it was warmer. I wish it wasn’t windy.
I wish it was some other way…

This is not a very productive conversation.

Stephen Levine, in his book, A Gradual Awakening, makes these comments: “…Perhaps the clearest definition we could have of mental suffering: wishing we were elsewhere. Wanting things to be otherwise is the very essence of suffering. We almost never directly experience what pain is, because our reaction to it is so immediate that most of what we call pain is actually our experience of resistance to that phenomenon. And the resistance is usually a good deal more painful than the original sensation.”

I am creating more suffering by wishing the weather otherwise than the weather would actually cause alone.

At the same time, it’s helpful to notice my wishing and recognize it as a disconnection from the perfection of the present moment.

To let the language alert me of the way in which I have closed down and cut myself off from possibility.

And to let the noticing instantly change the pattern — just noticing creates more space, loosens the grip on wanting things to be a certain way.

**********

How do create more suffering for yourself? What clues do you use to bring you back? What does spring mean to you?

White Wings

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

The doves have returned to the “breeding tree” in our backyard.

Every year they remodel the inadequate nest, sit patiently, feed dependably, protect, demonstrate, and watch as the babies take flight. It’s like a nursery—one baby after another all spring through summer.

The first baby left the nest last week. I watched as he tested his wings, teetering on a branch, mom nearby. He looked naive and confident. The next day he was gone.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we all take this risk—leaving the safety of what is comfortable and known to explore and more fully participate in life… in the world.

At times it seems like just sharing ourselves in relationship, exposing our dreams and fears is the same kind of jump. Will we be held? Will we fall?

This is the poem from tonight’s practice, for the little dove, for all of us leaving the nest:

How to Regain Your Soul

Come down Canyon Creek trail on a summer
afternoon
that one place where the valley floor opens out.
You will see
the white butterflies. Because of the way
shadows
come off those vertical rocks in the west, there
are
shafts of sunlight hitting the river and a deep
long purple gorge straight ahead. Put down your
pack.

Above, air sighs the pines. It was this way
when Rome was clanging, when Troy was being
built,
when campfires lighted caves. The white
butterflies dance
by the thousands in the still sunshine. Suddenly
anything
could happen to you. Your soul pulls toward the
canyon
and then shines back through the white wings to
be you again.

~William Stafford

Recess in Reflection

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

Like last time, some of these links direct you to my personal blog. More like a diary, raw and less polished...

Looking back on the start of the month (which I now affectionately call my Recess), I see how I had certain expectations: to be instantly relaxed, to have major epiphanies, to avoid all usual discomforts.

Of course, none of that happened. I some ways, it was a just a month. I am the same person.

In other ways, it was extraordinary and I am forever changed.

And isn’t that the way it is with this extraordinarily ordinary life.

As we head into the last days of February, I am creating some closure for my Recess and want share some observations from my month:

  • it is ever challenging to be present (easier to notice this when we slow down) — not in the past “when I was so busy” or in the future “when Recess will be over”
  • our cultural mindset and language around time only make this harder
  • the way I start my day is incredibly important
  • the computer has led me around by a leash long enough
  • the pace and fullness of life ebbs and flows — it can’t (and shouldn’t) always be Recess
  • it also can’t be non-stop — packed full and fast-paced; we need to allow for cycles of rest and work and play
  • there are many layers to letting go
  • the more I settled in to the security of home, the less daring I was to approach risk and discomfort
  • your friends are the kindest Self Care Supervisors — thanks to all who gave me the stink eye when they thought I was showing up at the studio to work!
  • it’s hard to describe how stunning it was to take class from the 2009 Teacher Trainee Grads. Their honesty, humility, presence, care, and skill rocked my ground. A thousand bows to them for making my time off possible. (You can leave comments or notes of appreciation for their efforts here.)
  • I love going to class (you guys are on to something!)
  • I love teaching yoga. Thank YOU for letting us all be here. I look forward to seeing you back in class.
  • Thanks to the IAY family of friends and teachers for their support and encouragement this month. It’s been nothing short of wonderful.

    How has your month been? Any “ordinary” observations of Spring?