i had a really lovely yoga class today after taking 4 days off from the studio for our Lammas ritual last week and to visit family over the weekend - the week before, i was healing a bit of touch-up work on a tattoo and had to miss a few days for that, as well... so it's been a few days on a few days off so far through August.
now i'm getting back into the swing of things. it's always a surprise/curiosity how my body will feel coming back to practice... like meeting an old friend you haven't seen for a while and catching up... by the end of that first class returning usually we are back to being besties, my body and me. sometimes it takes a while to reconnect though...
this time coming back was good, not a lot of strength or openness dimished & my breath and mind were very steady and peaceful. tonight was my second class since the break and i am starting to feel that dropping back into the rhythm of daily class... i'm looking forward to a nice long uninterrupted stretch of classes coming up over the next couple of weeks.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Friday, July 31, 2015
blue moon... guru purnima
Leave it to Bernadette Birney to say it perfectly... on FB today she wrote:
On this day when it's traditional to honor one's teachers, I thank those who have helped me become who I am, starting with my mom and dad. You know who you are. Wishing you a non-creepy, non-culty, non-dysfunctional, guru-free, happy Guru Purnima.
The full moon - our 'blue moon' in Aquarius - was rising as we drove home this evening. It looks so amazing but the best I could do to capture the moment with a photograph is this:
It sort of sneaks in under the radar like just another bit of light polution... but when we were looking at it first hand, it was enormous and grand... funny how it's hard to capture the essence of a moment in time photographically... sometimes we just have to be left with a memory.
I received a marvelous gift from the Universe on today's Guru Purnima - I got to hear the voice of one of my favorite yoga teachers of all time - a voice I thought would remain only a good memory.
This made me so happy to hear Gaura talk about Guru Purnima. It made me happy to hear his voice... I feel like I can hear the construction of his thought process, so precise. As the sound and meaning unfolds, I feel a deep softening of my heart - like the bija sound of a memory lost so deep inside my mind that it might never have come to the surface without that sound activation. He is not my guru, but he was a very important person in my yoga practice and life in Chiang Mai. In that year, yoga was my lifeline back to my heart.
Another teacher in Chiang Mai, Rachel, taught an arm balancing class in which I got air in Crane pose for the first time... quite out of the blue. The trick? She told us arm balances are all about core strength and there is more strength inside us than we realize. On that day, I did the best arm balances of my life thus far... because of the magick of realizing that I was strong inside.
Another teacher who made a deep mark on me was named Meadow. She taught Bikram yoga back in the olden days... last I knew she was going to Costa Rica. She was also a scientist. She said the most wonderful and wise things in class. Just little bits... a story or a teaching that would thread, gem by gem, through the savasanas in the Bikram floor series, like beads on a mala.
She taught me a lot about accepting and finding peace in small moments. She talked a lot about savasana & stilling the mind. The open-eyed savasanas in between postures in the Bikram floor series are an "open-eyed meditation" - she taught me to focus drishti or gaze on a fiber of my towel or a spot on the ceiling. She counselled students to lie down without any extra movement or thought - to just be where you found yourself without fussing for perfect alignment, drinking, wiping sweat, adjusting hair, etc. If you find perfect alignment by just getting right to it, that is a gift... but if not, find your peace and stillness immediately anyway. Life doesn't always fall perfectly & that's when you need to swiftly find stillness and centered calm the most.
My other favorite yoga teachers are teachers I have now - Jess, Julie, and Benjamin. They make me think about my body, brain, heart, and breath in new ways every time I take class with them. They hold space for wonder. They are amazing.
They are all also human. Not gurus, not demi-gods or supernatural beings - just people. Really great people... but I don't worship them. Today, though - in honor of Guru Purnima - I will venerate them in my heart for the gifts of learning they have given me & continue to give. I am profoundly grateful.
I am also grateful beyond words to my mom and dad for being my first teachers and my best friends in this life. To DRJ who is the love of my life and a true teacher of hidden wisdom - to his teacher and his teacher's teacher... all the way back to Aleister Crowley.
On this day when it's traditional to honor one's teachers, I thank those who have helped me become who I am, starting with my mom and dad. You know who you are. Wishing you a non-creepy, non-culty, non-dysfunctional, guru-free, happy Guru Purnima.
The full moon - our 'blue moon' in Aquarius - was rising as we drove home this evening. It looks so amazing but the best I could do to capture the moment with a photograph is this:
I received a marvelous gift from the Universe on today's Guru Purnima - I got to hear the voice of one of my favorite yoga teachers of all time - a voice I thought would remain only a good memory.
This made me so happy to hear Gaura talk about Guru Purnima. It made me happy to hear his voice... I feel like I can hear the construction of his thought process, so precise. As the sound and meaning unfolds, I feel a deep softening of my heart - like the bija sound of a memory lost so deep inside my mind that it might never have come to the surface without that sound activation. He is not my guru, but he was a very important person in my yoga practice and life in Chiang Mai. In that year, yoga was my lifeline back to my heart.
Another teacher in Chiang Mai, Rachel, taught an arm balancing class in which I got air in Crane pose for the first time... quite out of the blue. The trick? She told us arm balances are all about core strength and there is more strength inside us than we realize. On that day, I did the best arm balances of my life thus far... because of the magick of realizing that I was strong inside.
Another teacher who made a deep mark on me was named Meadow. She taught Bikram yoga back in the olden days... last I knew she was going to Costa Rica. She was also a scientist. She said the most wonderful and wise things in class. Just little bits... a story or a teaching that would thread, gem by gem, through the savasanas in the Bikram floor series, like beads on a mala.
She taught me a lot about accepting and finding peace in small moments. She talked a lot about savasana & stilling the mind. The open-eyed savasanas in between postures in the Bikram floor series are an "open-eyed meditation" - she taught me to focus drishti or gaze on a fiber of my towel or a spot on the ceiling. She counselled students to lie down without any extra movement or thought - to just be where you found yourself without fussing for perfect alignment, drinking, wiping sweat, adjusting hair, etc. If you find perfect alignment by just getting right to it, that is a gift... but if not, find your peace and stillness immediately anyway. Life doesn't always fall perfectly & that's when you need to swiftly find stillness and centered calm the most.
My other favorite yoga teachers are teachers I have now - Jess, Julie, and Benjamin. They make me think about my body, brain, heart, and breath in new ways every time I take class with them. They hold space for wonder. They are amazing.
They are all also human. Not gurus, not demi-gods or supernatural beings - just people. Really great people... but I don't worship them. Today, though - in honor of Guru Purnima - I will venerate them in my heart for the gifts of learning they have given me & continue to give. I am profoundly grateful.
I am also grateful beyond words to my mom and dad for being my first teachers and my best friends in this life. To DRJ who is the love of my life and a true teacher of hidden wisdom - to his teacher and his teacher's teacher... all the way back to Aleister Crowley.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
another tennis ball stretch....
Any day the studio owner is teaching vinyasa class and she says "be sure to grab a tennis ball", I know it will be a yummy class. Today was no exception.
She focused on opening and strengthening outer hips... we started out in firelog for what seemed to be ages. With hip openers, I love long holds - they are such a treat. Once I find my way into that 'hurts so good' place and begin to breathe steadily, I could stay indefinitely. It's not often that classes start this way.
She drew our awareness to strength and external rotation in a lot of the warrior variations & triangle. Something that resonated in my body in a new way tonight was when she cued us to notice if we were collapsing to our inner arches - that this was a sign we were losing engagement in outer hips. Sure enough, lifting that inner arch and pressing down through the outer edge of the foot fired up the sensation in the outer hip and stabilized my half-moon (vinyasa version). I've heard the cue to lift the inner arches many times, but never connected it to activating the external rotation of the outer hips... so now that cue will make a lot more sense for future classes.
At the end of class, came the tennis ball stretch... taking supine pigeon, we put the tennis ball about 1/2way down the glute on the same side as the raised foot, near the spine and gently rolled toward the outer hip - there's sort of a sweet (well, maybe bittersweet is a better word) spot as you near the outer hip. For me it hurts and makes my jaw clench and my breath get a bit ragged. Drawing awareness back to taking long steady breaths and softening everything around the ball helped a lot. We stayed here for many breaths on each side. Once we released the tennis ball, we hugged in the opposite knee and did the traditional supine pigeon stretch.
YUM. Hips felt amazing afterwards and I was able to sit in full lotus for the entire final breathing exercise with no discomfort. That was really a treat.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
notes from yoga lesson.
When you exhale, you naturally engage your pelvic floor. If you aren't sure if you are engaging mula bandha - exhale and check into your breath.
Plank isn't supposed to be a straight line, necessarily. by engaging core and pulling up a bit so the back is parallel to floor, then pulling heart forward (not melting!) you get so much more strength and ease in the pose... and less shoulder strain.
Lowering down - let elbows go out to sides a little bit and use lower belly core strength instead. Don't tuck in close to the body, that hunches shoulders forward.
To come out, tuck tailbone & retrace steps.
Practice good form and core engagement with modified chaturanga first - then move toward full chaturanga, hover, lower gently to belly. Then add pushing back up - but build this strength/process in modified form.
Hip flexor / psoas stretch with tennis ball in iliachus, then bend opposite leg into 90 degrees on floor and lift leg on tennis ball side (or just come up to toes curled under if lifting leg is too much.)
Theraband stretches:
hold theraband at waist height, should width, wrapped around hands, thumbs out. pull out. 5-10 times both hands, 5-10 times each side isolated.
Hold theraband at waist, pull wide/out lift overhead, bend elbows, pull down behind head, thinking of engaging lower traps.
Camel - you're pushing hips too far forward - it is the cue in core 26 - but that's for beginners and actually locking up lower back pushing too far. Think of pushing straight down into knees and inhaling into the middle back to create space and then exhaling heart directly to the sky for a vertical direction, rather than a forward force.
Practice camel dropbacks with toes together, knees hipwidth or wider. Hands down backs of legs or sides of legs... exhale back, inhale up.
Then practice hands to heart, come back 1/2way, lift/breathe - let breath originate movement. once breathing, then reaching hands out, touch fingertips. exhale lift heart, walk finger tips back toward the feet with each exhale, then place hands on top of head and gently drop back or lower down just the extra bit to reach the feet.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Stay one breath once you feel panic to train your brain to relax for next time. Find your breath as an anchor *then* move to come out.
Plank isn't supposed to be a straight line, necessarily. by engaging core and pulling up a bit so the back is parallel to floor, then pulling heart forward (not melting!) you get so much more strength and ease in the pose... and less shoulder strain.
Lowering down - let elbows go out to sides a little bit and use lower belly core strength instead. Don't tuck in close to the body, that hunches shoulders forward.
To come out, tuck tailbone & retrace steps.
Practice good form and core engagement with modified chaturanga first - then move toward full chaturanga, hover, lower gently to belly. Then add pushing back up - but build this strength/process in modified form.
Hip flexor / psoas stretch with tennis ball in iliachus, then bend opposite leg into 90 degrees on floor and lift leg on tennis ball side (or just come up to toes curled under if lifting leg is too much.)
Theraband stretches:
hold theraband at waist height, should width, wrapped around hands, thumbs out. pull out. 5-10 times both hands, 5-10 times each side isolated.
Hold theraband at waist, pull wide/out lift overhead, bend elbows, pull down behind head, thinking of engaging lower traps.
Camel - you're pushing hips too far forward - it is the cue in core 26 - but that's for beginners and actually locking up lower back pushing too far. Think of pushing straight down into knees and inhaling into the middle back to create space and then exhaling heart directly to the sky for a vertical direction, rather than a forward force.
Practice camel dropbacks with toes together, knees hipwidth or wider. Hands down backs of legs or sides of legs... exhale back, inhale up.
Then practice hands to heart, come back 1/2way, lift/breathe - let breath originate movement. once breathing, then reaching hands out, touch fingertips. exhale lift heart, walk finger tips back toward the feet with each exhale, then place hands on top of head and gently drop back or lower down just the extra bit to reach the feet.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Stay one breath once you feel panic to train your brain to relax for next time. Find your breath as an anchor *then* move to come out.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
practice and *all* is coming...
So I'm happy to report that the new (to me, but not to teaching) teacher on Saturday was marvelous. I loved her rich, sonorous alto voice - the directness of her instruction and her wonderful pronunciation of Sanskrit poses. She has studied extensively with an Indian teacher and it was evident. Also glad to report that my new hairstyle has been remarkably manageable in and out of yoga class.
I've had a bit of an intermittent practice over the last week what with all the birthday festivitites- I missed Thursday and Friday, doubled up on Saturday, had another commitment on Sunday that prevented attending class, took class on Monday, and then skipped last night to celebrate my birthday. It was worth it. I had a fantastic birthday!
I got home from work to a wonderful surprise present from my friend Maria, who gave me the cork blocks on my wishlist. WOW! I've really wanted cork blocks for a long time, but I have never felt them until receiving them. They are delightful - warm, hefty, & natural feeling. I can't wait to spend some time in home practice & restorative poses with them. Supta baddha konasana, here I come!
Tonight I am looking forward to a Core 40 class to slough off a little birthday party slowness (hello, cocktails!) and get ready for my first-ever private yoga lesson tomorrow.
I want to work on vinyasa transitions to check in with my shoulder and see if I could sometimes try chaturanga safely without coming to my knees. I want to work on practicing toward full camel and more maha backbends again. And I also want to figure out if there's anything I can do to create more space in Rabbit pose.
I'm really excited to work one-on-one with a master teacher - especially since my body has been changing so much in the last few months. In the recent months of healing and strengthening, I am finally feeling some real closure about my shoulder injury. Almost 7 years ago, I got attacked when I was living in Thailand - pulled off the bike I was riding by my purse strap and dragged behind a speeding motorcycle by said strap for about 1/2 a block before the attackers let go. I was pretty banged up. I needed yoga to heal mentally from what happened and was in shock/numbness to physical pain, so I didn't notice that continuing to practice was causing further and further problems. After a few years of increasing pain and lack of mobility, I had to quit yoga for 4 months and do intense physical therapy (starting off at 4 times a week) to heal major joint separation in my glenohumeral joint.
When I was cleared for yoga again, any weight-bearing postures or lifting my right arm over shoulder height was contraindicated. This put a damper on a lot of practice. It also brought be back to the Bikram series. I struggled through a lot of pain for the first year after coming back. I went through periods of seeming healing, only to go a little too far and end up in a lot of pain again. It got me down for a while. I finally started to accept the idea that I wouldn't get *better* in the way of returning to how I was before. I thought maybe this is what aging is all about.
I tried to live (and then came to resent) the rhetoric in yoga about injuries being your best teacher. I was so angry and wounded deep down inside about the attack and how it robbed me, not of my purse, but of my practice... but I decided to show up and create a new practice for myself. I accepted my body's size and strength as it was in the moment and just started over. Zero expectations.
I also started working with a naturopath on other health imbalances related to food allergies and thyroid stuff... I was content. And then something funny started to happen. I started to get stronger. I started to lose weight without struggling. I started to feel less fear as I worked into my upper back and shoulders. I feel like my body and my practice are totally new. It's not getting back to where I was before... it's starting over completely and learning everything with new awareness. After a decade of practice, I found beginner's mind/body.
I've learned a lot of new habits. I hold onto only a few little things from Anusara and Bikram... but mostly, I listen to my teachers with curiosity and I try to apply new things. The world of alignment has changed a lot over the last 10 years - more scientific awareness of anatomy of each individual has created some smarter yoga teachers... much like awareness of the food sensitivities of individuals has made a difference for so many people with autoimmune/inflammation issues. There is no one-size for hot yoga shorts and there is no one-size rule for alignment. The optimal blueprint is in the recycling bin. It's all about refining balance individually now.
So real healing happened physically and mentally... almost 7 years on in the process.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately & also about an article by Matthew Remski that Bernadette Birney shared on FB recently about Kino MacGregor and injury in extreme Ashtanga practice.
Pattabhi Jois, founder of Ashtanga, is famous for saying, "practice and all things coming."
I have read and heard many interpretations of this phrase that verge on the sort of positivity brain-washing of The Secret ilk. I didn't think the phrase resonated much to me until yesterday... when I realized:
In modern Western yoga, "all things coming" somehow morphed into getting everything you ever wanted that is good and awesome and made of rainbows and unicorn sparkles.
Practicing yoga doesn't bring automatic unicorn sparkles... but if you keep practicing (and even if you don't) all things will continue to keep coming... even things like getting randomly attacked and injured by strangers.
These "bad" things don't go away just because you can do bird of paradise or a perfect dropback or handstand... and you can't will them away with extreme asana practice. Extreme asana practice doesn't necessarily make or keep you healthy. No yoga practice is a surefire pancea against all that ails mind and body, nor is there a linear progression from bad to good that one can expect by showing up to class everyday.
I do not purport to know what Jois really meant when he uttered those words. I just know that "all" encompasses more than just the things we wish for or desire - all is totality of experience. All is coming - no matter what we do. Practice might just make it easier to roll with what comes.
Injuries come. Pain comes. Health challenges come. Sadness comes. Heartbreaks come. Loss comes. This is part of being alive. These things can be teachers, but not in a passing way. It take a long time to learn from an injury or a heartbreak.
In theory - Kino MacGregor's message about her injury might speak to how yoga can help one face all that is coming.
Now the real yoga begins. I always say that pain and injury are the true teachers of the spiritual path and now it’s time for me to walk my own talk. There is a lesson is [sic] everything, especially the hard and difficult stuff. If this is a hip sprain and not a hamstring sprain then it will change my whole paradigm on what it takes to forward bend. If it’s the hamstring I’ll gain valuable knowledge on how to heal and rehab a hamstring sprain. Today’s #YogiAssignment is Wisdom. What is the wisdom that the biggest pain or obstacle in your life has to teach you? What wisdom have you gained from going through a difficult or challenging period in your life? Remaining equanimous with faith and patience through pain, injury and suffering is hard, but it is where the real inner work of yoga begins. Being strong in yoga isn’t about how long you can hold a handstand. It’s about how much grace you can contain when facing adversity.
Yet, Remski's article mentions that 4 days later, she was posting advanced asana again, either ignoring or hiding a serious injury. She needed to be who she had created herself to be - a beautiful, vibrant, and incredibly acrobatic yoga instructor. She needed her story. She needed her livelihood.
I discovered teaching in what happened to me only 7 years after injury - after ignoring, hiding, hating, worsening, addressing, and eventually accepting my pain. It wasn't until I gave up on healing that I started to heal more. I did find equanimity and joy in what I was able to do. I stopped teaching. I let go of caring about how I looked or what anyone thought of me. My time in asana is just for me to spend time checking in with my body and mind.
I feel for MacGregor. I don't think she is being purposefully deceptive about her injury... I think she just might not have seen it coming in the "all" that comes. She might not have been ready for the slow and arduous learning that injuries teach. I hope she gets better soon, but not all injuries heal quickly. Some take 7 years. Others never fully heal or the healing creates a new state that requires profound adjustment.
In practicing and finding equanimity, I find more joy too. On a day when my body doesn't hurt and I feel strong, I think of it as just one instance - not a new baseline or expectation for the future, but a gift in the present. On a day when I feel broken or weak, I don't stress that I will never be "back to normal" again. I don't get as frustrated as I once did. It's just one day. Things change. Practice and all things coming... sometimes blissful, sometimes excruciating.
This brings me to think of the IAO formula.
In beginning a meditation practice, there is always a quiet pleasure, a gentle natural growth; one takes a lively interest in the work; it seems easy; one is quite pleased to have started. This stage represents Isis. Sooner or later it is succeeded by depression --- the Dark Night of the Soul, an infinite weariness and detestation of the work. The simplest and easiest acts become almost impossible to perform. Such impotence fills the mind with apprehension and despair. The intensity of this loathing can hardly be understood by any person who has not experienced it. This is the period of Apophis.
It is followed by the arising not of Isis, but of Osiris. The ancient condition is not restored, but a new and superior condition is created, a condition only rendered possible by the process of death.
-Crowley, Book 4, Pt. 3 Chapter 5
IAO moves like a thread through practice... an ongoing cyclical current as DRJ always utters IAOIAOIAOIAO... in the Star Ruby until it bleeds in YHVH - a formula of all things... all things that were and are and are to come.
I've had a bit of an intermittent practice over the last week what with all the birthday festivitites- I missed Thursday and Friday, doubled up on Saturday, had another commitment on Sunday that prevented attending class, took class on Monday, and then skipped last night to celebrate my birthday. It was worth it. I had a fantastic birthday!
Tonight I am looking forward to a Core 40 class to slough off a little birthday party slowness (hello, cocktails!) and get ready for my first-ever private yoga lesson tomorrow.
I want to work on vinyasa transitions to check in with my shoulder and see if I could sometimes try chaturanga safely without coming to my knees. I want to work on practicing toward full camel and more maha backbends again. And I also want to figure out if there's anything I can do to create more space in Rabbit pose.
I'm really excited to work one-on-one with a master teacher - especially since my body has been changing so much in the last few months. In the recent months of healing and strengthening, I am finally feeling some real closure about my shoulder injury. Almost 7 years ago, I got attacked when I was living in Thailand - pulled off the bike I was riding by my purse strap and dragged behind a speeding motorcycle by said strap for about 1/2 a block before the attackers let go. I was pretty banged up. I needed yoga to heal mentally from what happened and was in shock/numbness to physical pain, so I didn't notice that continuing to practice was causing further and further problems. After a few years of increasing pain and lack of mobility, I had to quit yoga for 4 months and do intense physical therapy (starting off at 4 times a week) to heal major joint separation in my glenohumeral joint.
When I was cleared for yoga again, any weight-bearing postures or lifting my right arm over shoulder height was contraindicated. This put a damper on a lot of practice. It also brought be back to the Bikram series. I struggled through a lot of pain for the first year after coming back. I went through periods of seeming healing, only to go a little too far and end up in a lot of pain again. It got me down for a while. I finally started to accept the idea that I wouldn't get *better* in the way of returning to how I was before. I thought maybe this is what aging is all about.
I tried to live (and then came to resent) the rhetoric in yoga about injuries being your best teacher. I was so angry and wounded deep down inside about the attack and how it robbed me, not of my purse, but of my practice... but I decided to show up and create a new practice for myself. I accepted my body's size and strength as it was in the moment and just started over. Zero expectations.
I also started working with a naturopath on other health imbalances related to food allergies and thyroid stuff... I was content. And then something funny started to happen. I started to get stronger. I started to lose weight without struggling. I started to feel less fear as I worked into my upper back and shoulders. I feel like my body and my practice are totally new. It's not getting back to where I was before... it's starting over completely and learning everything with new awareness. After a decade of practice, I found beginner's mind/body.
I've learned a lot of new habits. I hold onto only a few little things from Anusara and Bikram... but mostly, I listen to my teachers with curiosity and I try to apply new things. The world of alignment has changed a lot over the last 10 years - more scientific awareness of anatomy of each individual has created some smarter yoga teachers... much like awareness of the food sensitivities of individuals has made a difference for so many people with autoimmune/inflammation issues. There is no one-size for hot yoga shorts and there is no one-size rule for alignment. The optimal blueprint is in the recycling bin. It's all about refining balance individually now.
So real healing happened physically and mentally... almost 7 years on in the process.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately & also about an article by Matthew Remski that Bernadette Birney shared on FB recently about Kino MacGregor and injury in extreme Ashtanga practice.
Pattabhi Jois, founder of Ashtanga, is famous for saying, "practice and all things coming."
I have read and heard many interpretations of this phrase that verge on the sort of positivity brain-washing of The Secret ilk. I didn't think the phrase resonated much to me until yesterday... when I realized:
Practicing yoga doesn't bring automatic unicorn sparkles... but if you keep practicing (and even if you don't) all things will continue to keep coming... even things like getting randomly attacked and injured by strangers.
These "bad" things don't go away just because you can do bird of paradise or a perfect dropback or handstand... and you can't will them away with extreme asana practice. Extreme asana practice doesn't necessarily make or keep you healthy. No yoga practice is a surefire pancea against all that ails mind and body, nor is there a linear progression from bad to good that one can expect by showing up to class everyday.
I do not purport to know what Jois really meant when he uttered those words. I just know that "all" encompasses more than just the things we wish for or desire - all is totality of experience. All is coming - no matter what we do. Practice might just make it easier to roll with what comes.
Injuries come. Pain comes. Health challenges come. Sadness comes. Heartbreaks come. Loss comes. This is part of being alive. These things can be teachers, but not in a passing way. It take a long time to learn from an injury or a heartbreak.
In theory - Kino MacGregor's message about her injury might speak to how yoga can help one face all that is coming.
Now the real yoga begins. I always say that pain and injury are the true teachers of the spiritual path and now it’s time for me to walk my own talk. There is a lesson is [sic] everything, especially the hard and difficult stuff. If this is a hip sprain and not a hamstring sprain then it will change my whole paradigm on what it takes to forward bend. If it’s the hamstring I’ll gain valuable knowledge on how to heal and rehab a hamstring sprain. Today’s #YogiAssignment is Wisdom. What is the wisdom that the biggest pain or obstacle in your life has to teach you? What wisdom have you gained from going through a difficult or challenging period in your life? Remaining equanimous with faith and patience through pain, injury and suffering is hard, but it is where the real inner work of yoga begins. Being strong in yoga isn’t about how long you can hold a handstand. It’s about how much grace you can contain when facing adversity.
Yet, Remski's article mentions that 4 days later, she was posting advanced asana again, either ignoring or hiding a serious injury. She needed to be who she had created herself to be - a beautiful, vibrant, and incredibly acrobatic yoga instructor. She needed her story. She needed her livelihood.
I discovered teaching in what happened to me only 7 years after injury - after ignoring, hiding, hating, worsening, addressing, and eventually accepting my pain. It wasn't until I gave up on healing that I started to heal more. I did find equanimity and joy in what I was able to do. I stopped teaching. I let go of caring about how I looked or what anyone thought of me. My time in asana is just for me to spend time checking in with my body and mind.
I feel for MacGregor. I don't think she is being purposefully deceptive about her injury... I think she just might not have seen it coming in the "all" that comes. She might not have been ready for the slow and arduous learning that injuries teach. I hope she gets better soon, but not all injuries heal quickly. Some take 7 years. Others never fully heal or the healing creates a new state that requires profound adjustment.
In practicing and finding equanimity, I find more joy too. On a day when my body doesn't hurt and I feel strong, I think of it as just one instance - not a new baseline or expectation for the future, but a gift in the present. On a day when I feel broken or weak, I don't stress that I will never be "back to normal" again. I don't get as frustrated as I once did. It's just one day. Things change. Practice and all things coming... sometimes blissful, sometimes excruciating.
This brings me to think of the IAO formula.
In beginning a meditation practice, there is always a quiet pleasure, a gentle natural growth; one takes a lively interest in the work; it seems easy; one is quite pleased to have started. This stage represents Isis. Sooner or later it is succeeded by depression --- the Dark Night of the Soul, an infinite weariness and detestation of the work. The simplest and easiest acts become almost impossible to perform. Such impotence fills the mind with apprehension and despair. The intensity of this loathing can hardly be understood by any person who has not experienced it. This is the period of Apophis.
It is followed by the arising not of Isis, but of Osiris. The ancient condition is not restored, but a new and superior condition is created, a condition only rendered possible by the process of death.
-Crowley, Book 4, Pt. 3 Chapter 5
IAO moves like a thread through practice... an ongoing cyclical current as DRJ always utters IAOIAOIAOIAO... in the Star Ruby until it bleeds in YHVH - a formula of all things... all things that were and are and are to come.
Friday, July 17, 2015
bits and bobs.
As I mentioned in my formative post for this blog, I spend a lot of time everyday thinking about yoga. Sometimes these are meaty metaphysical or philosophical contemplations, other times very mechanical or physical anatomy and alignment puzzles, and yet another sort of yoga thought passing though my mind is part practical part frivolous, like what to wear to class and how to wear my hair.
This last practical frivolity or frivolous practicality about hair has been on my mind a lot this week because I treated myself to a haircut yesterday.
It's quite a change from the way I've been wearing my hair for the better part of the last decade, which was shoulder length or longer and usually pulled back in a bun or updo of one sort or another. I have fine naturally curly hair that has a tendency to fly-away and get in my face, eyes, even mouth at inopportune times if it's worn down when long.
In the 1990s, when I was 18 and weighed 96 pounds, I chopped my waist-length hair into a pixie cut and loved it. I tried a pixie cut again around age 25 and was non-plused. A bit more weighty by then, I had more roundness to my face and the cut was not nearly as flattering... so I grew it back out and the most daring I've gotten since then is a little above the shoulders, but always with the caveat that it has to be long enough to pull back.
For yoga, there is a more complex set of concerns about *how* it's pulled back. I have to have the middle of the back of my head unencumbered for savasana. I first tried pigtail buns, but that got hair in the way for arms-over-head poses like Bikram 1/2moon and balancing stick. So then I went to a bun at the nape of my neck. Pretty good for everything except occasionally annoying in some backbends like standing backbend or camel. So I settled in eventually on a sort of top-knot ballerina bun. Not without it's own set of challenges, though -- if not carefully positioned, it can be quite troublesome in rabbit and fixed firm.
For a while now, I've wanted a shorter cut - not a pixie cut, but a big change... I was just worried about how I'd manage it for yoga and if it would take a lot of styling in the morning before work. I was feeling brave when I sat down in the chair yesterday. I threw caution to the wind & decided to go for the style that I wanted. I'm really glad that I took the plunge. I feel revitalized - fresher and lighter & I'm using my natural curl to its advantage rather than working against it, so that's a good thing.
I'm curious to try it out for yoga tomorrow and see how it goes. I have a couple of ideas for how to keep it out of my face...
So, I'll see how it works out tomorrow.Yes you read right. I am not going to yoga tonight, nor did I go yesterday.
I am seriously jonesing for class, yet I am not paying that feeling too much mind. It's nearing my birthday and so I've got some plans - going out to dinner with my momma tonight for our mutual celebration of her giving birth to me and me getting born. Some things are worth missing class for & this is one of those things. Svaha.
I did contemplate trying to get a 6:30am class in this morning... but I failed to be that motivated.
Happily, from a frivolity/practicality standpoint, when I did finally get out of bed, my hair looked pretty tame. A little smoothing gloss and a clip & I was good to go for work. This bodes well for manageability, which is vital for me, as I'm barely more cognizant that a somnabulist in the mornings. Tomorrow, I am excited to get back to class. I might try a double at 9 and 11... but in all likelihood, I'll just stick with one class at the delightfully civilized time of 11am. There will be a new teacher for this class. I'm curious, hopeful, and a little bit nervous. Generally, I enjoy different teachers and perspectives at the studio. I have a lot of trust in my studio to have good quality teachers, so it is usually interesting and informative to hear a new voice.
Every now and again, though, there's a teacher who doesn't mesh well with my practice. Lots of people blog about this situation and teachers talk about it in classes sometimes too. Advice on the matter often verges on platitude ie: "the teacher you like the least is the teacher you need the most" (the same is sometimes said about asanas). I think for both teachers and poses, this is only truly the case in a very small percentage of situations. The vast majority of the time - something else is going on.
Sometimes a teacher is a fine teacher, but isn't a good match - either too hard or too easy... or just teaching in a style that doesn't suit every student. Other teachers are inexperienced or tangled in their own egos. Some teachers are absent-minded or disorganized. It doesn't take a lot training to become RYT 200. It does take a lot of training to really be a good yoga teacher. There's a space between certification and mastery where a lot of teachers get lost.
There's one teacher at my studio who makes me feel all crunchy and shut-down inside. I don't care for this teacher' sequencing and sometimes think that not enough modifications or options are provided. Sometimes the pacing is inconsistent too. I also don't like it when vinyasa classes repeat the same sequence week after week. It can be over-taxing to some parts of the body, while neglecting others. I also don't like a lot of woo.
I like straight talk, encouragement, and alignment cues, leaving the magic & philosophy to happen privately in my own practice. I want an asana teacher, not a pseudo-spiritual guide or would-be guru. I don't want my teachers to need me to like them. I also want to feel safe - I want to trust my teacher to offer modifications and thoughtful, intelligent sequences that are safe. I don't like it when teachers touch me without asking me first. I am also really private about a lot things in yoga, so I don't like over-sharing or being asked to over-share in conversations before and after class. That's just me & what makes a good teacher for me.
I am very patient with new teachers who are finding their way. But I feel very impatient with teachers who are over-confident, over-sharey, or overly-spiritualizing in their classes & I feel unsafe with teachers who have erratic pacing and over-crowed sequencing. At my studio, it doesn't happen very often - but it does occasionally - so when I see a new teacher on the schedule, I always have mixed feelings. It's uncharted territory, which is exciting and scary at the same time.
Class could be amazing or it could be a class where I have to invest a lot of intellect to rework sequencing in order to stay safe &/or energy to create physical and emotional boundaries to protect myself from my teacher. I don't know till I show up. The latter type of class is actually valuable every now and again for the mental calm it takes to stay your own course with grace and intelligence. Still, it is not the type of experience that I enjoy regularly.
excerpt from: http://bikramyogasimsbury.com/resources/lauries-blog/ Class this morning was a good one for discussion. We had a traveling teacher, who also owns a studio out west. We were quite surprised as this same teacher reportedly spent a lot of time in a Posture Clinic Friday evening lecturing and giving lots of detailed advice on teaching. The class was, well, let’s call it uninspired. There was almost zero dialogue employed. The attitude was one of indifference at best. That, in combination with the usual Monday morning creaky and complaining joints made for a thought-provoking couple of hours. People left in droves, even though the heat was very reasonable. We’re not sure if it was due to kids dehydrating themselves at the pool all weekend, all of the flus going around, or simple disinterest in the class. Once again, we were reminded of the importance of trust in a class – that of the teacher instilling it in the students. We knew within 30 seconds of his beginning Pranayama that we were in for it – the pace was erratic, the sets were at least 17 in the first and probably more in the second (instead of the required 10). One immediately begins to struggle with: When do you push in the posture? How long do you hold it? When do you allow yourself to come out? This is in stark contrast to, say, Mike from Chicago, who recites the complete dialogue and practices spot-on timing. You don’t think in a class like that, you just do what you are told. And therein lies the peace of the class, the ability to hand oneself over to the moving meditation and allow the brain to rest.
I think this says it so well. What it all comes down to is that I want to trust my teacher. Many new teachers have an enthusiasm and humility that is quite special - I trust them to do their best and I know I can hold space for them when they need a little extra encouragement. Sage teachers who are knowledgable and graceful in their instruction are a different kind of delight, equally trustworthy in different ways.
Lindsay Dahl wrote a really good blog about how teachers can make students feel safe. Again, it all come down to trust.
So, in reflection, I realize that when my teacher doesn't inspire my trust, I have to find trust somewhere else to stay in my practice... and in whom do I put that trust? Myself! The most valuable thing I learned from teaching yoga to other people is how to be my own teacher, how to keep myself safe, even when I don't trust my teacher. From ceremonial magick, I've also learned a banishing and fortifying state of mind to insulate from all the emotions that can come up in a class when I don't trust the teacher. Still,even in classes with a strong teacher, you always have to be self-aware and trust in yourself first and foremost.
So - there you have it. The Good, The Bad, & The Mundane from my yoga brain this Friday afternoon. TGIF!
This last practical frivolity or frivolous practicality about hair has been on my mind a lot this week because I treated myself to a haircut yesterday.
It's quite a change from the way I've been wearing my hair for the better part of the last decade, which was shoulder length or longer and usually pulled back in a bun or updo of one sort or another. I have fine naturally curly hair that has a tendency to fly-away and get in my face, eyes, even mouth at inopportune times if it's worn down when long.
In the 1990s, when I was 18 and weighed 96 pounds, I chopped my waist-length hair into a pixie cut and loved it. I tried a pixie cut again around age 25 and was non-plused. A bit more weighty by then, I had more roundness to my face and the cut was not nearly as flattering... so I grew it back out and the most daring I've gotten since then is a little above the shoulders, but always with the caveat that it has to be long enough to pull back.
For yoga, there is a more complex set of concerns about *how* it's pulled back. I have to have the middle of the back of my head unencumbered for savasana. I first tried pigtail buns, but that got hair in the way for arms-over-head poses like Bikram 1/2moon and balancing stick. So then I went to a bun at the nape of my neck. Pretty good for everything except occasionally annoying in some backbends like standing backbend or camel. So I settled in eventually on a sort of top-knot ballerina bun. Not without it's own set of challenges, though -- if not carefully positioned, it can be quite troublesome in rabbit and fixed firm.
For a while now, I've wanted a shorter cut - not a pixie cut, but a big change... I was just worried about how I'd manage it for yoga and if it would take a lot of styling in the morning before work. I was feeling brave when I sat down in the chair yesterday. I threw caution to the wind & decided to go for the style that I wanted. I'm really glad that I took the plunge. I feel revitalized - fresher and lighter & I'm using my natural curl to its advantage rather than working against it, so that's a good thing.
I'm curious to try it out for yoga tomorrow and see how it goes. I have a couple of ideas for how to keep it out of my face...
So, I'll see how it works out tomorrow.Yes you read right. I am not going to yoga tonight, nor did I go yesterday.
I am seriously jonesing for class, yet I am not paying that feeling too much mind. It's nearing my birthday and so I've got some plans - going out to dinner with my momma tonight for our mutual celebration of her giving birth to me and me getting born. Some things are worth missing class for & this is one of those things. Svaha.
I did contemplate trying to get a 6:30am class in this morning... but I failed to be that motivated.
Happily, from a frivolity/practicality standpoint, when I did finally get out of bed, my hair looked pretty tame. A little smoothing gloss and a clip & I was good to go for work. This bodes well for manageability, which is vital for me, as I'm barely more cognizant that a somnabulist in the mornings. Tomorrow, I am excited to get back to class. I might try a double at 9 and 11... but in all likelihood, I'll just stick with one class at the delightfully civilized time of 11am. There will be a new teacher for this class. I'm curious, hopeful, and a little bit nervous. Generally, I enjoy different teachers and perspectives at the studio. I have a lot of trust in my studio to have good quality teachers, so it is usually interesting and informative to hear a new voice.
Every now and again, though, there's a teacher who doesn't mesh well with my practice. Lots of people blog about this situation and teachers talk about it in classes sometimes too. Advice on the matter often verges on platitude ie: "the teacher you like the least is the teacher you need the most" (the same is sometimes said about asanas). I think for both teachers and poses, this is only truly the case in a very small percentage of situations. The vast majority of the time - something else is going on.
Sometimes a teacher is a fine teacher, but isn't a good match - either too hard or too easy... or just teaching in a style that doesn't suit every student. Other teachers are inexperienced or tangled in their own egos. Some teachers are absent-minded or disorganized. It doesn't take a lot training to become RYT 200. It does take a lot of training to really be a good yoga teacher. There's a space between certification and mastery where a lot of teachers get lost.
There's one teacher at my studio who makes me feel all crunchy and shut-down inside. I don't care for this teacher' sequencing and sometimes think that not enough modifications or options are provided. Sometimes the pacing is inconsistent too. I also don't like it when vinyasa classes repeat the same sequence week after week. It can be over-taxing to some parts of the body, while neglecting others. I also don't like a lot of woo.
I like straight talk, encouragement, and alignment cues, leaving the magic & philosophy to happen privately in my own practice. I want an asana teacher, not a pseudo-spiritual guide or would-be guru. I don't want my teachers to need me to like them. I also want to feel safe - I want to trust my teacher to offer modifications and thoughtful, intelligent sequences that are safe. I don't like it when teachers touch me without asking me first. I am also really private about a lot things in yoga, so I don't like over-sharing or being asked to over-share in conversations before and after class. That's just me & what makes a good teacher for me.
I am very patient with new teachers who are finding their way. But I feel very impatient with teachers who are over-confident, over-sharey, or overly-spiritualizing in their classes & I feel unsafe with teachers who have erratic pacing and over-crowed sequencing. At my studio, it doesn't happen very often - but it does occasionally - so when I see a new teacher on the schedule, I always have mixed feelings. It's uncharted territory, which is exciting and scary at the same time.
Class could be amazing or it could be a class where I have to invest a lot of intellect to rework sequencing in order to stay safe &/or energy to create physical and emotional boundaries to protect myself from my teacher. I don't know till I show up. The latter type of class is actually valuable every now and again for the mental calm it takes to stay your own course with grace and intelligence. Still, it is not the type of experience that I enjoy regularly.
excerpt from: http://bikramyogasimsbury.com/resources/lauries-blog/ Class this morning was a good one for discussion. We had a traveling teacher, who also owns a studio out west. We were quite surprised as this same teacher reportedly spent a lot of time in a Posture Clinic Friday evening lecturing and giving lots of detailed advice on teaching. The class was, well, let’s call it uninspired. There was almost zero dialogue employed. The attitude was one of indifference at best. That, in combination with the usual Monday morning creaky and complaining joints made for a thought-provoking couple of hours. People left in droves, even though the heat was very reasonable. We’re not sure if it was due to kids dehydrating themselves at the pool all weekend, all of the flus going around, or simple disinterest in the class. Once again, we were reminded of the importance of trust in a class – that of the teacher instilling it in the students. We knew within 30 seconds of his beginning Pranayama that we were in for it – the pace was erratic, the sets were at least 17 in the first and probably more in the second (instead of the required 10). One immediately begins to struggle with: When do you push in the posture? How long do you hold it? When do you allow yourself to come out? This is in stark contrast to, say, Mike from Chicago, who recites the complete dialogue and practices spot-on timing. You don’t think in a class like that, you just do what you are told. And therein lies the peace of the class, the ability to hand oneself over to the moving meditation and allow the brain to rest.
I think this says it so well. What it all comes down to is that I want to trust my teacher. Many new teachers have an enthusiasm and humility that is quite special - I trust them to do their best and I know I can hold space for them when they need a little extra encouragement. Sage teachers who are knowledgable and graceful in their instruction are a different kind of delight, equally trustworthy in different ways.
Lindsay Dahl wrote a really good blog about how teachers can make students feel safe. Again, it all come down to trust.
So, in reflection, I realize that when my teacher doesn't inspire my trust, I have to find trust somewhere else to stay in my practice... and in whom do I put that trust? Myself! The most valuable thing I learned from teaching yoga to other people is how to be my own teacher, how to keep myself safe, even when I don't trust my teacher. From ceremonial magick, I've also learned a banishing and fortifying state of mind to insulate from all the emotions that can come up in a class when I don't trust the teacher. Still,even in classes with a strong teacher, you always have to be self-aware and trust in yourself first and foremost.
So - there you have it. The Good, The Bad, & The Mundane from my yoga brain this Friday afternoon. TGIF!
Thursday, July 16, 2015
spanda
Something I love about my job is how I discover books I didn't know about and I get to read little snippets of them in my day. With the latest iteration of our software, now if I find one that I really like, I can just click a "clone request" button and order the same book for me.
Monday, I stumbled upon a book someone had ordered called In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness. The title intrigued me because I have held a lot of trauma in my body from my shoulder injury and have found that the only way to move through it emotionally is through moving the body. At first, I needed yoga to heal my heart but I was actually doing more damage to my physical body in the process... until it gave out and I had to start from scratch. Two years after starting physical therapy and taking 4 months away from yoga before starting again from the very beginning, I'm starting to see more profound healing - mentally and physically.
My copy has not yet arrived, but I read as much as I could from the "look inside" feature on amazon & google books. My curiosity was piqued around page 15. Apparently, the author, Peter Levine, has observed that trembling of shaking shortly after injury or trauma is a physical reset - this is often stopped as it is recognized as a symptom of shock... but that can cause PTSD or stored trauma in the body rather than allowing the body to "shake off" what has happened and fully heal from the beginning.
In the first chapter, Levine speaks of instances of trembling or shaking in the I Ching and the Bible, as well as "at the climax of orgasm." (p.16) I thought immediately of another trembling that I have spent a great deal of time contemplating - spanda. Daniel Odier's translation & commentary on Yoga Spandakarika (song of the sacred tremor) was one of my most treasured books from the Chiang Mai "bookstore of requirement". This sacred tremor or vibration is the pulsation of the macrocosm... after the heartbreak of my first marriage ending - Odier's book taught me how to notice this tremor or spanda in everything around me and create a love affair between myself and the Universe - microcosm and macrocosm. This courtship between microcosm and macrocosm mended my heart and put me on the path toward falling in love with DRJ.
Odier writes:
"The whole Spandakarika says that the sacred tremor is the way in to this new manner of seeing and feeling things. This is not a mental process, but a dynamic that engages both body and mind."
He discusses Kasmiri yoga practices to bring about this state, but the state is not exclusive to these practices only.
"Little by little the body starts to resonate, as if all its harmonics were coming into unison in order to generate a total tremoring. When this total tremoring is born, it is as if we are introducing into our body a magic virus that is attacking allour mental constuctions and relaxing them completely."
This description always reminds me of a mutual orgasm between the microcosm and the macrocosm. I began to think of the Universe as my lover, my whole body as an organ of pleasure, signs of love in the quaking of the trees, the continuous movement of clouds... this notion of spanda cradled me when I was very fragile of both body and mind.
In reconnecting to this book and this idea recently, I was also reminded of another text I've been rereading and contemplating lately - Artemis Iota in Crowley's Magick Without Tears. The idea of spanda or trembling in orgasm or in the sacred or metaphysical contexts of the I Ching - but what of Crowley's assertion that the nature of the male and female orgasms are different?
"The essential difference is indicated by that of their respective orgasms, the female undulatory, the male catastrophic." (Magick Without Tears, Ch. 15)
I started to think about all the different seeming dualities that stem from this assertion...
masculine vs. feminine
Catastrophic vs. Undulatory
an event vs. a state
a point vs. an ever-expanding circumference
Hadit vs. Nuit
Shiva vs. Shakti
Yang vs. Yin
...and wondering how they connect with Odier's idea that spanda or the sacred tremor is the state of nonduality... "the ardor of the burning fire of love that is consciousness of the absolute unity of all things."
If one thinks of this as two seperate forces conjoined into one, it may be a bit heteronormative. In male+female sex magick - the moment of the simultaneous orgasm contains both the catastophic and the undulatory in a combined force - only through union of the two is the one annihilated to the none.
The Perfect and the Perfect are one Perfect and not two; nay, are none!
(Liber AL I:45)
For I am divided for love's sake, for the chance of union.
This is the creation of the world, that the pain of division is as nothing, and the joy of dissolution all.
(Liber AL II:29-30
But what of the union of these forces within a single being? What about Baphomet or Ardhanarishvara?
Here the masculine and feminine elements or forces are united into a single being.
This made me think again of the union of the microcosm and macrocosm as the union of male and female - the point and circumference. 5=6. I thought of the Star Ruby and Star Sapphire that the priest and priestess frequently execute before mass at CNL. While I am versed in both rituals & I believe that they each contain a balanced completion independently, I associate Liber 25 more with masculine and Liber 36 more with feminine qualities. The red of the ruby as the red of the priest's vestments, the reference to the phallus, the odd number, the microcosm/point/Hadit in contrast with the sapphire's blue as the vestments of the priestess, the reference to the maternal sign of Isis Rejoicing, the even number, the macrocosm/circumference/Nuit.
Through Work, it seems that individuals have potentiality to experience this 5=6 within themselves as well as through sexual union/magick... each informing and complimenting each other in different ways.
Crowley writes of himself in Confessions:
While his masculinity is above the normal, both physiologically and as witnessed by his powerful growth of beard, he has certain well-marked feminine characteristics. Not only are his limbs as slight and graceful as a girl's but his breasts are developed to quite abnormal degree. There is thus a sort of hermaphroditism in his physical structure; and this is naturally expressed in his mind. But whereas, in most similar cases, the feminine qualities appear at the expense of manhood, in him they are added to a perfectly normal masculine type. The principal effect has been to enable him to understand the psychology of women, to look at any theory with comprehensive and impartial eyes, and to endow him with maternal instincts on spiritual planes. He has thus been able to beat the women he has met at their own game and emerge from the battle of sex triumphant and scatheless. He has been able to philosophize about nature from the standpoint of a complete human being; certain phenomena will always be unintelligible to men as such, others, to women as such. He, by being both at once, has been able to formulate a view of existence which combines the positive and the negative, the active and the passive, in a single identical equation. Finally, intensely as the savage male passion to create has inflamed him, it has been modified by the gentleness and conservatism of womanhood. Again and again, in the course of this history, we shall find his actions determined by this dual structure.
I've thought about this a lot about this in my magical work over the last couple of years - incorporating/experiencing more masculine or active aspects in ritual and invocation has given dpeth to my Work and I find it very valuable. I am a profoundly feminine person - that will not change in this lifetime... but I do think through ceremonial, invocation, and certain nuances of sex magick a potential exists to cultivate the experience of "a view of existence which combines the positive and the negative, the active and the passive, in a single identical equation."
Monday, I stumbled upon a book someone had ordered called In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness. The title intrigued me because I have held a lot of trauma in my body from my shoulder injury and have found that the only way to move through it emotionally is through moving the body. At first, I needed yoga to heal my heart but I was actually doing more damage to my physical body in the process... until it gave out and I had to start from scratch. Two years after starting physical therapy and taking 4 months away from yoga before starting again from the very beginning, I'm starting to see more profound healing - mentally and physically.
My copy has not yet arrived, but I read as much as I could from the "look inside" feature on amazon & google books. My curiosity was piqued around page 15. Apparently, the author, Peter Levine, has observed that trembling of shaking shortly after injury or trauma is a physical reset - this is often stopped as it is recognized as a symptom of shock... but that can cause PTSD or stored trauma in the body rather than allowing the body to "shake off" what has happened and fully heal from the beginning.
In the first chapter, Levine speaks of instances of trembling or shaking in the I Ching and the Bible, as well as "at the climax of orgasm." (p.16) I thought immediately of another trembling that I have spent a great deal of time contemplating - spanda. Daniel Odier's translation & commentary on Yoga Spandakarika (song of the sacred tremor) was one of my most treasured books from the Chiang Mai "bookstore of requirement". This sacred tremor or vibration is the pulsation of the macrocosm... after the heartbreak of my first marriage ending - Odier's book taught me how to notice this tremor or spanda in everything around me and create a love affair between myself and the Universe - microcosm and macrocosm. This courtship between microcosm and macrocosm mended my heart and put me on the path toward falling in love with DRJ.
Odier writes:
"The whole Spandakarika says that the sacred tremor is the way in to this new manner of seeing and feeling things. This is not a mental process, but a dynamic that engages both body and mind."
He discusses Kasmiri yoga practices to bring about this state, but the state is not exclusive to these practices only.
"Little by little the body starts to resonate, as if all its harmonics were coming into unison in order to generate a total tremoring. When this total tremoring is born, it is as if we are introducing into our body a magic virus that is attacking allour mental constuctions and relaxing them completely."
This description always reminds me of a mutual orgasm between the microcosm and the macrocosm. I began to think of the Universe as my lover, my whole body as an organ of pleasure, signs of love in the quaking of the trees, the continuous movement of clouds... this notion of spanda cradled me when I was very fragile of both body and mind.
In reconnecting to this book and this idea recently, I was also reminded of another text I've been rereading and contemplating lately - Artemis Iota in Crowley's Magick Without Tears. The idea of spanda or trembling in orgasm or in the sacred or metaphysical contexts of the I Ching - but what of Crowley's assertion that the nature of the male and female orgasms are different?
"The essential difference is indicated by that of their respective orgasms, the female undulatory, the male catastrophic." (Magick Without Tears, Ch. 15)
I started to think about all the different seeming dualities that stem from this assertion...
masculine vs. feminine
Catastrophic vs. Undulatory
an event vs. a state
a point vs. an ever-expanding circumference
Hadit vs. Nuit
Shiva vs. Shakti
Yang vs. Yin
...and wondering how they connect with Odier's idea that spanda or the sacred tremor is the state of nonduality... "the ardor of the burning fire of love that is consciousness of the absolute unity of all things."
If one thinks of this as two seperate forces conjoined into one, it may be a bit heteronormative. In male+female sex magick - the moment of the simultaneous orgasm contains both the catastophic and the undulatory in a combined force - only through union of the two is the one annihilated to the none.
The Perfect and the Perfect are one Perfect and not two; nay, are none!
(Liber AL I:45)
For I am divided for love's sake, for the chance of union.
This is the creation of the world, that the pain of division is as nothing, and the joy of dissolution all.
(Liber AL II:29-30
But what of the union of these forces within a single being? What about Baphomet or Ardhanarishvara?
This made me think again of the union of the microcosm and macrocosm as the union of male and female - the point and circumference. 5=6. I thought of the Star Ruby and Star Sapphire that the priest and priestess frequently execute before mass at CNL. While I am versed in both rituals & I believe that they each contain a balanced completion independently, I associate Liber 25 more with masculine and Liber 36 more with feminine qualities. The red of the ruby as the red of the priest's vestments, the reference to the phallus, the odd number, the microcosm/point/Hadit in contrast with the sapphire's blue as the vestments of the priestess, the reference to the maternal sign of Isis Rejoicing, the even number, the macrocosm/circumference/Nuit.
Through Work, it seems that individuals have potentiality to experience this 5=6 within themselves as well as through sexual union/magick... each informing and complimenting each other in different ways.
Crowley writes of himself in Confessions:
While his masculinity is above the normal, both physiologically and as witnessed by his powerful growth of beard, he has certain well-marked feminine characteristics. Not only are his limbs as slight and graceful as a girl's but his breasts are developed to quite abnormal degree. There is thus a sort of hermaphroditism in his physical structure; and this is naturally expressed in his mind. But whereas, in most similar cases, the feminine qualities appear at the expense of manhood, in him they are added to a perfectly normal masculine type. The principal effect has been to enable him to understand the psychology of women, to look at any theory with comprehensive and impartial eyes, and to endow him with maternal instincts on spiritual planes. He has thus been able to beat the women he has met at their own game and emerge from the battle of sex triumphant and scatheless. He has been able to philosophize about nature from the standpoint of a complete human being; certain phenomena will always be unintelligible to men as such, others, to women as such. He, by being both at once, has been able to formulate a view of existence which combines the positive and the negative, the active and the passive, in a single identical equation. Finally, intensely as the savage male passion to create has inflamed him, it has been modified by the gentleness and conservatism of womanhood. Again and again, in the course of this history, we shall find his actions determined by this dual structure.
I've thought about this a lot about this in my magical work over the last couple of years - incorporating/experiencing more masculine or active aspects in ritual and invocation has given dpeth to my Work and I find it very valuable. I am a profoundly feminine person - that will not change in this lifetime... but I do think through ceremonial, invocation, and certain nuances of sex magick a potential exists to cultivate the experience of "a view of existence which combines the positive and the negative, the active and the passive, in a single identical equation."
Friday, July 10, 2015
morning yoga and defective engines.
This morning I went to yoga at 6:30am. Quite a difference from my regular routine... early morning yoga feels like practicing in a different body - much stiffer and more fragile feeling. Being tired and stiff can help the mind to calm and focus, though. My way of taking morning class is to have no expections. Just be curious and see what happens.
It was a really nice class. I didn't think I'd get a practice in today - I'm heading out of town soon for a camping trip so I'll miss my usual 6pm class. But it was "friends for free Friday" & my friend was game for an early morning class... so it worked out beautifully!
Checking in with my body feeling so different in morning practice got me thinking about Liber CC and the practice of keeping a magical diary. DRJ recommends using Resh as the framework for your days - recording the weather, the place, who you are with, and your physical, mental, and emotional conditions each time. Sometimes it is really mundane, but it's still important work and yeilds valuable information. These little check-ins foster the kind of self-awareness that can guide one to make subtle adjustments to daily life and magical pratices to better facilitate one's Work.
The Resh points and the yoga class both give me oppotunities to notice what is working and what isn't working. What could become a Jugorum tool? What habits need to be changed? This fuels the Thelemic notion of Yamas & Niyamas - what control is needed and which practices are required to create the right conditions to accomplish the Work.
We may then dismiss Yama and Niyama with this advice: let the student decide for himself what form of life, what moral code, will least tend to excite his mind; but once he has formulated it, let him stick to it, avoiding opportunism; and let him be very careful to take no credit for what he does or refrains from doing -- it is a purely practical code, of no value in itself.
-Aleister Crowley, Book 4 part 1, chapter 3
Crowley says in Book 4 part 1 that "for the purpose of this treatise the whole object of Yama and Niyama is to live so that no emotion or passion disturbs the mind." Watching the body, the mind, and the heart and noticing what creates emotions and passions of various sorts is efficacious for creating our own codes to live by... and this process is an ever-changing one.
....there is no perfection of materials; there will always be errors and weaknesses, and the man who wins through is the man who manages to carry on with a defective engine. The actual strain of the work develops the defects; and it is a matter of great nicety of judgment to be able to deal with the changing conditions of life. It will be seen that the formula-'Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law' has nothing to do with 'Do as you please.'
It is much more difficult to comply with the Law of Thelema than to follow out slavishly a set of dead regulations.
-Aleister Crowley, Eight Lectures on Yoga - part 1, lecture 2.
Showing up to class and taking the time to notice my physical, mental, and emotional states at Resh are ways to gather information to refine practical codes and carry on. We all have defective engines... but who among us will finish?
Checking in with my body feeling so different in morning practice got me thinking about Liber CC and the practice of keeping a magical diary. DRJ recommends using Resh as the framework for your days - recording the weather, the place, who you are with, and your physical, mental, and emotional conditions each time. Sometimes it is really mundane, but it's still important work and yeilds valuable information. These little check-ins foster the kind of self-awareness that can guide one to make subtle adjustments to daily life and magical pratices to better facilitate one's Work.
We may then dismiss Yama and Niyama with this advice: let the student decide for himself what form of life, what moral code, will least tend to excite his mind; but once he has formulated it, let him stick to it, avoiding opportunism; and let him be very careful to take no credit for what he does or refrains from doing -- it is a purely practical code, of no value in itself.
-Aleister Crowley, Book 4 part 1, chapter 3
Crowley says in Book 4 part 1 that "for the purpose of this treatise the whole object of Yama and Niyama is to live so that no emotion or passion disturbs the mind." Watching the body, the mind, and the heart and noticing what creates emotions and passions of various sorts is efficacious for creating our own codes to live by... and this process is an ever-changing one.
....there is no perfection of materials; there will always be errors and weaknesses, and the man who wins through is the man who manages to carry on with a defective engine. The actual strain of the work develops the defects; and it is a matter of great nicety of judgment to be able to deal with the changing conditions of life. It will be seen that the formula-'Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law' has nothing to do with 'Do as you please.'
It is much more difficult to comply with the Law of Thelema than to follow out slavishly a set of dead regulations.
-Aleister Crowley, Eight Lectures on Yoga - part 1, lecture 2.
Showing up to class and taking the time to notice my physical, mental, and emotional states at Resh are ways to gather information to refine practical codes and carry on. We all have defective engines... but who among us will finish?
Thursday, July 9, 2015
stories
One of my favorite yoga teachers has a frequent saying in reference to heat, sweat, and any other mental or physical obstacles you encounter in your practice. He says: "these are just stories." When he says that, it also reminds me of something that one of my delighfully snarkastic friends from the occult world often says, if you try to rationalize something. He shrugs with the quip: "That's your story."
Many things happen in life. They may or may not have relevance in my practice. Yet, the liberating thing about practicing in the hot room is that -for at least 90 minutes- I don't have to be my story.
Sometimes this is really hard. Earlier this year, I wrote a story of my yoga life thus far, that I was thinking about re-sharing as a starting point for this blog. It was my story then - in that moment. It's still a part of my history... but it's not the only story about my yoga... and, perhaps more importantly, every time I show up to practice - there's a new story and a chance to release from it. Things, as they seem, are always changing.
One of the first times that I became accutely aware of the way personal 'stories' are mutable occured about 10 years ago, early in my occult career, when a group tried to get a series of classes going at Coph Nia with Phil Hine's Group Explorations in Ego Magick. There are 4 sets of exercises, meant to be done with the same group. The class leader originally intended to have the working span over 4 months. We ended up repeating the first set of exercises for three, until the class leader finally got a complete group together to participate and we finished out the working in 4 consecutive days.
In that first set of exercises, you have to write a 3rd person "character sketch" of yourself and list 6 strengths and 6 weaknesses. Each month that we repeated the first exercise, new and different things came to the forefront of my 'sketch' and my feelings of strength and weakness varied depending on how I was feeling and what I was experiencing at the moment of writing. This illustration of how your story at any given moment isn't attached to Self or necessarily to your True Will opened something up for me. For a long time it was just an idea and I didn't have the fortitude to change or release the story - but little by little I had more witness consciousness of it, at least.
Phil Hine writes that, "Ego Magic is concerned with increasing one’s ability to make realistic assessments of one’s own self-image and identifying and modifying behaviours and cognitive patterns which are dysfunctional". A decade later, I'm beginning to see more fruit from this working and from other magical and yogic work.
This type of self-reflection and study that Hine describes also reminds me of one of the traditional Hindu niyamas (practices) - Svadhyaya. Translated commonly as "self-study" - it actually means reading to yourself but has come to mean, in the way of multivalent language and centuries of telephone-game like teaching across different cultures and religions, study of self, self-reflection, or self-knowledge.
While this practice of reading the Vedas to yourself has changed over time into self-knowledge, the command to "know thyself" is not a new age concept. Inscribed on the temple of Delphi, γνῶθι σαὐτόν or gnōthi sauton permeates the work of of many Greek and Roman philosophers. This bidding at Delphi was mythologically ascribed to Apollo - god of the Sun, source of Light and Life - illuminator of all things within and without.
Aleister Crowley takes up the injunction in his tome Magick, attributing it to AIWAZ - his own Holy Guardian Angel: "He bade "Know Thyself!" and taught Initiation."
Knowing yourself (or your Self) isn't the same as being familiar with your story - that "I" that we constitute doesn't aid in discovering True Will or k & c of HGA. In fact, Crowley writes in Diary of a Drug Fiend: “I've often thought that there isn't any "I" at all; that we are simply the means of expression of something else; that when we think we are ourselves, we are simply the victims of a delusion.”
Recognizing that you tell yourself stories and that they are mutable is kind of the jumping off point for letting go of dross - witnessing it like a little thought in meditation and then letting it pass to reveal a path toward your HGA, your Self, your genius. Crowley writes in Eight Lectures on Yoga, that:
Knowledge itself is impossible... In order to conceive the simplest possible object, we have to keep on inventing ideas, which even in the proud moment of invention are seen to be unreal. How are we to get away from the world of phantasmagoria to the common universe of sense? We shall require quite a lot more acts of imagination. We have got to endow our mathematical conceptions with three ideas which Hindu philosophers call sat, chit and ananda, which are usually translated Being, Knowledge and Bliss. This really means: sat, the tendency to conceive of an object as real; chit, the tendency to pretend that it is an object of knowledge; and ananda, the tendency to imagine that we are affected by it.
I can always count on Crowley for an astute and wise joke that will show more depth about the concepts than a slew of yoga teachers and lofty texts. He shows us how some ideas about Knowledge and "I" are futile. Yet, there is something "above the abyss", states of mind that "cannot be expressed, for they are above knowledge." You have to let go of all your stories to cross that abyss. You cannot hold back even a tiny bit of attachment to make that crossing.
I'm certainly not there yet, but in the last few months I've found considerably more witness consciousness about my hatha yoga "story" that peels away layers of a bigger story of my past. The work I do in my body has been playing out in my mind and my magical work in interesting and fruitful ways.
Crowley writes of this relationship between yoga and magick in Eight Lectures.
Am I then supposed to be saying that Yoga is merely the handmaiden of Magick, or that Magick has
no higher function than to supplement Yoga? By no means. it is the co-operation of lovers; which
is here a symbol of the fact. The practices of Yoga are almost essential to success in Magick -- at
least I may say from my own experience that it made all the difference in the world to my magical
success, when I had been thoroughly grounded in the hard drill of Yoga. But -- I feel absolutely
certain that I should never have obtained success in Yoga in so short a time as I did had I not spent
the previous three years in the daily practice of magical methods.
I feel my practices becoming more of a true "co-operation of lovers". I feel a renewed sense of inspiration and determination after a time of feeling rudderless and aching physically and mentally. I know the stories behind those feelings, but I am not composed of them. As my teacher says, "they're just stories."
Many things happen in life. They may or may not have relevance in my practice. Yet, the liberating thing about practicing in the hot room is that -for at least 90 minutes- I don't have to be my story.
Sometimes this is really hard. Earlier this year, I wrote a story of my yoga life thus far, that I was thinking about re-sharing as a starting point for this blog. It was my story then - in that moment. It's still a part of my history... but it's not the only story about my yoga... and, perhaps more importantly, every time I show up to practice - there's a new story and a chance to release from it. Things, as they seem, are always changing.
One of the first times that I became accutely aware of the way personal 'stories' are mutable occured about 10 years ago, early in my occult career, when a group tried to get a series of classes going at Coph Nia with Phil Hine's Group Explorations in Ego Magick. There are 4 sets of exercises, meant to be done with the same group. The class leader originally intended to have the working span over 4 months. We ended up repeating the first set of exercises for three, until the class leader finally got a complete group together to participate and we finished out the working in 4 consecutive days.
Phil Hine writes that, "Ego Magic is concerned with increasing one’s ability to make realistic assessments of one’s own self-image and identifying and modifying behaviours and cognitive patterns which are dysfunctional". A decade later, I'm beginning to see more fruit from this working and from other magical and yogic work.
This type of self-reflection and study that Hine describes also reminds me of one of the traditional Hindu niyamas (practices) - Svadhyaya. Translated commonly as "self-study" - it actually means reading to yourself but has come to mean, in the way of multivalent language and centuries of telephone-game like teaching across different cultures and religions, study of self, self-reflection, or self-knowledge.
While this practice of reading the Vedas to yourself has changed over time into self-knowledge, the command to "know thyself" is not a new age concept. Inscribed on the temple of Delphi, γνῶθι σαὐτόν or gnōthi sauton permeates the work of of many Greek and Roman philosophers. This bidding at Delphi was mythologically ascribed to Apollo - god of the Sun, source of Light and Life - illuminator of all things within and without.
Aleister Crowley takes up the injunction in his tome Magick, attributing it to AIWAZ - his own Holy Guardian Angel: "He bade "Know Thyself!" and taught Initiation."
Knowing yourself (or your Self) isn't the same as being familiar with your story - that "I" that we constitute doesn't aid in discovering True Will or k & c of HGA. In fact, Crowley writes in Diary of a Drug Fiend: “I've often thought that there isn't any "I" at all; that we are simply the means of expression of something else; that when we think we are ourselves, we are simply the victims of a delusion.”
Recognizing that you tell yourself stories and that they are mutable is kind of the jumping off point for letting go of dross - witnessing it like a little thought in meditation and then letting it pass to reveal a path toward your HGA, your Self, your genius. Crowley writes in Eight Lectures on Yoga, that:
Knowledge itself is impossible... In order to conceive the simplest possible object, we have to keep on inventing ideas, which even in the proud moment of invention are seen to be unreal. How are we to get away from the world of phantasmagoria to the common universe of sense? We shall require quite a lot more acts of imagination. We have got to endow our mathematical conceptions with three ideas which Hindu philosophers call sat, chit and ananda, which are usually translated Being, Knowledge and Bliss. This really means: sat, the tendency to conceive of an object as real; chit, the tendency to pretend that it is an object of knowledge; and ananda, the tendency to imagine that we are affected by it.
I can always count on Crowley for an astute and wise joke that will show more depth about the concepts than a slew of yoga teachers and lofty texts. He shows us how some ideas about Knowledge and "I" are futile. Yet, there is something "above the abyss", states of mind that "cannot be expressed, for they are above knowledge." You have to let go of all your stories to cross that abyss. You cannot hold back even a tiny bit of attachment to make that crossing.
I'm certainly not there yet, but in the last few months I've found considerably more witness consciousness about my hatha yoga "story" that peels away layers of a bigger story of my past. The work I do in my body has been playing out in my mind and my magical work in interesting and fruitful ways.
Crowley writes of this relationship between yoga and magick in Eight Lectures.
Am I then supposed to be saying that Yoga is merely the handmaiden of Magick, or that Magick has
no higher function than to supplement Yoga? By no means. it is the co-operation of lovers; which
is here a symbol of the fact. The practices of Yoga are almost essential to success in Magick -- at
least I may say from my own experience that it made all the difference in the world to my magical
success, when I had been thoroughly grounded in the hard drill of Yoga. But -- I feel absolutely
certain that I should never have obtained success in Yoga in so short a time as I did had I not spent
the previous three years in the daily practice of magical methods.
I feel my practices becoming more of a true "co-operation of lovers". I feel a renewed sense of inspiration and determination after a time of feeling rudderless and aching physically and mentally. I know the stories behind those feelings, but I am not composed of them. As my teacher says, "they're just stories."
gratitude
Last night, I got to try out two new & wonderful presents that two of my very kind Facebook friends gave me for my birthday from my amazon wishlist. I snapped a quick selfie as I was setting up in the studio last night... the first time I've ever been brave enough to take a photo in the hot room.
Much gratitude to Craig for the beautiful mat. This photo doesn't do justice to how lovely the pattern is. It's also nice and sticky, unlike my old mat & it's a travel-weight mat, so it's light as a feather and easy to carry in my bag without bogging down my shoulder.
Thank you, Rhonda, for the fierce and velvety tiger towel. When I'm in balancing stick pose, feeling more like a "broken umbrella" than a "capital letter T" - this tiger face looking back at me gives me a surge of energy to engage my muscles and get back to proper "T" status.
I feel so blessed and grateful for the kindness of friends. You are amazing and now you are with me each time I practice. Thank you.
Much gratitude to Craig for the beautiful mat. This photo doesn't do justice to how lovely the pattern is. It's also nice and sticky, unlike my old mat & it's a travel-weight mat, so it's light as a feather and easy to carry in my bag without bogging down my shoulder.
Thank you, Rhonda, for the fierce and velvety tiger towel. When I'm in balancing stick pose, feeling more like a "broken umbrella" than a "capital letter T" - this tiger face looking back at me gives me a surge of energy to engage my muscles and get back to proper "T" status.
I feel so blessed and grateful for the kindness of friends. You are amazing and now you are with me each time I practice. Thank you.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
what we write about when we write about yoga...
I think about yoga a lot. I practice almost every day. I share a bit about it on social media and talk about it to friends and family when they're open to listening... but the majority of my yoga thoughts remain in my head... until now.
I have been in a period of flux/evolution in my practice lately and I want a place to write about it. So naturally, I created a blog.
I titled the blog on one of my favorite lines from the Bikram yoga dialogue, which goes something like: "Use your Bengal Tiger Strength and your English Bulldog Determination." Anyone who knows me, knows that I love tigers... so that idea of "Bengal Tiger Strength" has resonated with me since the first time I heard it uttered during standing bow in class about 10 years ago.
A few years later, in an Anusara class, a teacher was trying to use the theme of animals to describe rooting through the hands and feet in downward dog. She started trying to use an elephant metaphor, but then switched to tiger paws clawing the mat. It was sort of a disjointed metaphor, but it instantly painted a vivid picture in my mind. I have had the rare opportunity to actually see tigers up close and I was astounded at how large their paws are. When I think of being grounded or rooted in yoga asana, I often think of tiger paws.
The phrase 'Bengal Tiger Strength' also conjures up notions of Durga imagery and power for me. As a fierce mother goddess in the Hindu pantheon whos vehicle is a lion or a tiger, She resonates as a protector to me and evokes my own fierce maternal protective instincts - to protect both my own self and my loved ones.
Durga and her tiger are so important to me that I have chosen to inscribe them on my body as a magical act of protection and devotion.
My Bengal Tiger Strength is more than my skill or prowess in a yoga posture... it is something deep within me - power, magick, ferocity.
I have been in a period of flux/evolution in my practice lately and I want a place to write about it. So naturally, I created a blog.
I titled the blog on one of my favorite lines from the Bikram yoga dialogue, which goes something like: "Use your Bengal Tiger Strength and your English Bulldog Determination." Anyone who knows me, knows that I love tigers... so that idea of "Bengal Tiger Strength" has resonated with me since the first time I heard it uttered during standing bow in class about 10 years ago.
A few years later, in an Anusara class, a teacher was trying to use the theme of animals to describe rooting through the hands and feet in downward dog. She started trying to use an elephant metaphor, but then switched to tiger paws clawing the mat. It was sort of a disjointed metaphor, but it instantly painted a vivid picture in my mind. I have had the rare opportunity to actually see tigers up close and I was astounded at how large their paws are. When I think of being grounded or rooted in yoga asana, I often think of tiger paws.
The phrase 'Bengal Tiger Strength' also conjures up notions of Durga imagery and power for me. As a fierce mother goddess in the Hindu pantheon whos vehicle is a lion or a tiger, She resonates as a protector to me and evokes my own fierce maternal protective instincts - to protect both my own self and my loved ones.
My Bengal Tiger Strength is more than my skill or prowess in a yoga posture... it is something deep within me - power, magick, ferocity.
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