Archive for February, 2010

Sequence Sunday

Sunday, February 28th, 2010

Each Sunday will feature an asana sequence. Feel free to add, omit, or interpret as you like!

With the intention of radiating out from center:

Constructive Rest with tennis or golf ball in glute, 3 minutes of massage on each side
Sukasana – easy side bends side to side
Easy twist each side
Loose eagle arms with neck movement
Downward Facing Dog
Lunge of choice
Dog
Lunge other side
Child’s Pose
Extended side angle “imprint” – just legs
Dog or “vinyasa” between sides
Warrior II – big arm cartwheel to plank
Big round plank – full back
Dog or “vinyasa” between sides
Malasana squat – “barbie leg”
Crow – big round back
Dog
Extended Side Angle
Dog or “vinyasa” between sides
Lunge to standing straddle – dog arms
Stand up Goddess
Vinyasa
Other side lunge to straddle – walk hands back between feet
Stand up Goddess
Vinyasa
On back – happy baby
Bridge
Eagle legs twist each side
Figure 4 each side
Knee hug
Savasana

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?

    Sequence Sunday

    Sunday, February 21st, 2010

    Each Sunday will feature an asana sequence. Feel free to add, omit, or interpret as you like!

    A practice to nurture the new roots and shoots from your feet into the soft earth.

    Baddha Konasana – rubbing, massaging, loving the feet
    Side Bend, both sides
    Tuck both feet to one side, Bharadvaja’s Twist, change sides
    All 4s, spinal balance
    Modified Side Plank on knee
    To standing, Tadasana
    Tree
    Easy Warrior III
    Utkatasana – lift heels
    Dive to Uttanasana
    At wall, Calf Stretch
    Straddle fold
    Sukasana – Sufi Circles
    Supta Padangusthasana
    Happy Baby
    Supta Baddha Konasana
    Savasana

    Time

    Tuesday, February 16th, 2010

    Time is one of those things that can really mess with your brain.

    We tell ourselves there’s not enough, or we experience it as dragging on forever.

    Yet a second, a minute, a day passes at the same pace every time.

    It’s our awareness of it (or usually lack of) that changes.

    It is approximately the middle of February: about two weeks have passed, and about two more are to come. This means I am halfway in my month “off” (now affectionally called My Recess).

    As this halfway mark approached, I noticed people’s reactions and language around the timing of the month:

      Oh no, you only have 2 weeks left.

      Oh no, you’re month is half over.

      Oh no, you have to go back to work soon.

    While I am attempting to create a frame that is very different:

      Wow, I have a whole two weeks left.

      Wow, I’ve had two full weeks of rest and rejuvenation.

      Wow, I don’t have anything scheduled today.

    Feels very different, ya?

    I have a wise friend who often says Don’t wish time away. Phrases like I can’t wait until… or I wish this week was over abuse our experience of each moment. Let us not wish one second away.

  • When asked the time, do you say it’s almost 4:00, when really it’s 3:35?
  • Do you find yourself thinking and talking mostly about the past or future rather than what is happening now?
  • In your yoga practice, are you resting in the pose, in the breath, rather than anticipating the next thing?
  • Noticing is the first step to more conscious living.

    And when it comes to noticing, all we need is now where time is endless.

    Hump Ditty Helper

    Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

    Nothing better to help us over a hurdle (or mid-week hump) than a poem. Each Wednesday will feature a new one sent with a personalized invitation: pause, read, relish, sigh. Repeat as desired!

    ***
    Elephant in the Dark

    Some Hindus have an elephant to show.
    No one here has ever seen an elephant.
    They bring it at night to a dark room.

    One by one, we go in the dark room and come out
    saying how we experience the animal.

    One of us happens to touch the trunk.
    “A water-pipe kind of creature.”

    Another, the ear. “A very strong, always moving
    back and forth, fan-animal.”

    Another, the leg. “I find it still,
    like a column on a temple.”

    Another touches the curved back.
    “A leathery throne.”

    Another, the cleverest, feels the tusk.
    “A rounded sword made of porcelain.”
    He’s proud of his description.

    Each of us touches one place
    and understands the whole in that way.

    The palm and the fingers feeling in the dark are
    how the senses explore the reality of the elephant.

    If each of us held a candle there,
    and if we went in together,
    we could see it.

    ~Jelaluddin Rumi

    Sequence Sunday

    Sunday, February 7th, 2010

    Each Sunday will feature an asana sequence. Feel free to add, omit, or interpret as you like!

    Seated
    Notice breath and sensations
    Interlace fingers and stretch arms overhead
    Baby side bends
    Arms forward parallel to floor, round back
    Release hands behind back, chest expansion
    Release hands, change interlace of fingers (and legs if crossed) and repeat sequence
    Feet on floor, knees bent – windshield wiper knees
    All 4s, cat/cow
    Root hands, spinal balance (arm first, opposite leg optional) alternating sides
    Press back to squat
    Up to standing
    Mountain pause, notice
    Step wide, star pose
    Goddess
    Warrior II side 1
    Star
    Goddess
    Warrior II side 2
    Star
    Mountain – wide feet
    Forward hang, knees bent
    All 4s, calf stretch each leg
    On belly, sphinx
    Child’s pose
    On back, knee hug
    Simple twist each side
    Knee hug
    Savasana

    Hump Ditty Helper

    Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

    Nothing better to help us over a hurdle (or mid-week hump) than a poem. Each Wednesday will feature a new one sent with a personalized invitation: pause, read, relish, sigh. Repeat as desired!

    ***

    Sewing Up the Ears

    I live
    with a sheet
    over my head
    because
    I like it
    that way.

    It used to have eyeholes
    but I plugged them up
    so I see only white sheet.
    It used to have noseholes
    but breathing my own breath
    over and over
    is so much warmer
    and now there is only a blister of damp
    where the mouth used to be.
    Bumping into things, tripping,
    it was awkward at first,
    but I learned to take narrow steps,
    to walk through the middle of rooms
    without touching anything.

    You say I look silly –
    you forget that I can’t see that.
    You say I’ll suffocate,
    but it isn’t so.
    You say that it’s childish, that I’m showing off,
    that I’ll tire of it soon enough.
    In a while I won’t even hear you.
    I’m sewing up the ears.

    ~Kathleen Aguero
    From Thirsty Day