The Dwellers In These Bodies Are Eternal

This isn't the first time I've sat down to write and struggled with the emotions that churn inside me. This year has been heavy for me. I took a big step on my yogic journey by joining the 200 hour YTT(yoga teacher training program. I graduated college. With this height I gained sharp perspective of my dreams. I've had a lot to smile about.
Like with Osho's trees, with height comes equal proportion of depth.
THis year my grandmother passed away as did Andrew, a family pet from childhood. Both had long lives filled with love. However, the deepest of depths comes from the recent death of a new friend, one I was only just beginning to know.

His name was Tim Martin and he was in my training class. He always had a story to share and, I admit, at first I was intimidated. But as I began to see more and more of him I found he was very kind and had beautiful intentions. He helped nourish our class with everything he shared.

Last night I struggled with believing he was gone. I just saw him less than two weeks ago. I sifted through what information I could find on the internet, hoping that maybe I misread and he was recovering in the hospital. The weight of truth pulled me down and today I still feel heavy.

I am sad because violence took him from his family and from his potential future, filling the world with more lightness.

Death is scary because we don't fully understand it. What is even scarier is that there are people out there who have so much darkness in themselves that they would hurt another person. Our time here is short, and we don't know how short. Yes, we make the most of our days and love as much as we can but how do we cope when death steps into the room?

What has helped me with coping lately is what Nancy shared in one of our recent classes. She shared, and I paraphrase of course, "Western society sees death as very sad and final. In the east, death is a celebration of transformation."
Whether taken in old age or in violence, the transformation is made and I find this comforting. Our bodies die but what makes up who we are lives on in our loved ones and in the energy of the universe all around us. We are made of stars. Stars are made of us.

"These bodies are perishable, but the dwellers in these bodies are eternal, indestructible and impenetrable." -Bhagavad Gita

A Practice Rooted in Love

I'm not sure why it took me so long to get here-- not the feeling itself but the physical act of sharing the feeling.
A month ago I met one of the most amazing people in my life: Karen Stephan, my master teacher. My body holds the memories of the poses, smoothed out by external input. My mind holds onto the honesty and openness of her beautiful heart. My soul is light and feels just a little more free with gained wisdom.
During my previous YTT Saturday session, Karen shared how her life has woven into her teachings and how it will for us new teachers as well. I thought about how I didn't have anything that could be usefully applied to a yoga lesson/session. Yes, I know how to clean a house and can help people find information but how does that factor in?
On Sunday she gave me the answer. Not directly but it's as if she knew exactly what parts of her life to share with the class. I connected most when she talked about her recovery from insomnia and her walk in the woods with her father. Karen had explained to us that this was a dark time in her life.
During her walk in the woods, she asked her father what he would think if she walked in front of a car. He told her "Then your mother and I would no longer have anything to live for."
And something inside me opened, warmth flowed up into my head, welled up into my eyes. My parents have never had unique jobs and haven't been involved in any organizations. What could possible weave into my yoga practice that would resonate with anyone?
Love.
My life has never lacked in love. Back to the oldest memory I can reach, when I was sitting in the child seat of a bicycle behind my father, I felt it. I felt the wind whip around him, the balance of the motion sweet to my pleasantly simple mind. I was safe and I was loved.
From this moment of being on the bicycle, to every night of bedtime stories, to now when I see my parents maybe once every few months, I have love in my heart. It is this love-- this unconditional love-- that I see woven into my practice. The people I surround myself with are ingrained in this tradition of love in my life. My mind can plummet to dark places but then I reach for bits and pieces of light, of this glowing love, and I am lifted.
For a moment I thought I may not have anything special to give my future students. Then Karen shed her light upon my life, illuminating moments and memories.
It isn't just the way my inner knee moves to my outer knee in Virabhadrasana I & II (Warrior I & II); it isn't just the spaciousness that can be made under my arms; it isn't even the moment I felt my energy move so freely from toe to crown. The moment of warmth and connection to the love in my life-- just being in that moment-- is one that transcends time.

As One Into Eternity

"Together for all eternity" by RazielMB dA

When the earth begins to shake beneath our feet
and the stars refuse to shine,
When the weight of the sky tumbles to our shoulders
and there is  no star left in the sky,
Through the darkness,
Through fire and rubble,
We seek.

When the connection is made
between your eyes and mine,
When mountains and infernos
threaten all we've built,
Through the darkness,
Through fire and rubble,
We meet.

The moment of peace,
The moment of silence,
The moment of truth,
I am you
and you are me.

Take my hand and breathe in what is us.
The stillness of now,
the truth of time.
Through the darkness,
Through fire and rubble,
Let the world crumble;
it does not shake our peace.

Ego vs. Seva

I’m all over the place this past week. I had plans for both Saturday and Sunday but alas they were both canceled events. I wasn’t prepared to not have a plan. I ended up scrolling through much of Netflix, not really selecting anything, just reading the titles. My yoga mat sat by my desk looking tired.

I was stuck and in some ways I still am. My morning practice is stiff and by the time I’m warm I have to finish getting ready for work. Work has been slow and I am, quite simply, bored. I work on my website, read Elephant Journal articles, check my email even though nothing new has popped up, and thankfully accept tasks as they come up.

I haven’t written, I realize, in a little while. Well, I’ve written but I haven’t completed anything and I haven’t shared anything.

To get out of my funk, I pushed myself to work on some decorations for the office—school spirit themed. I painted some leaves, cut out the bull symbol; fun stuff.

Last night while I was cooking dinner, I was listening to Ted Talks. There was one about how we will never achieve our dreams, or something like that. The guy talked about how we go for good jobs but allow ourselves to be afraid of our dream jobs.

That got me thinking—what do I want but something is holding me back from moving forward. Ego. I’m getting so deep into thoughts of yoga and I get to work on it every week—is my Ego sabotaging my progress? Am I just afraid of not knowing? Well, yes, it is scary but I am hopeful. Hopeful that the beauty and grace that yoga brings to my mind and body is real. Hopeful that my practice continues to grow and that one day I will have the confidence to teach a class and help people feel the way I do when I just let go. Hopeful for freedom.

Then I think, what else are my fears/ ego holding me back from? What am I even afraid of anyway? I want to learn Japanese—at least enough to communicate when visiting Japan. I also want to learn Chinese because I’d like to communicate with people at the grocery store I shop at and expand my network. Not that my current network includes many people. (Ego). I also want to learn Spanish because it’s my background and it’s always awkward when people ask me if I’m Spanish and why I don’t speak the language.

I also want to be passionate. I want to be involved. Passionate about what? Well I’m passionate about the yoga community and the beautiful intentions and morals it comes with. I enjoy helping people—that’s why I’m at the library—but I want to do more. More than sit at a desk and wait for questions. It would be nice to go to the community and give them the opportunity to ask questions rather than seek me out to ask (doesn’t happen often since that’s not my role at the library). I am passionate about service and it’s scary because I don’t know how to go that route. I wasn’t taught to serve, I was taught to work, to cook, to clean, to make a family. How do I serve and pay the bills?

While waiting to hear back from job prospects I could be volunteering in my free time. I’ve begun looking into ways to help the community and now I’m recalling my conversations with my fellow YTT-ers. The community I’m passionate about wants to contribute in a field I am passionate about.

I may fail at my dream but the journey isn't worth it if it isn't my dream. Contentment is knowing that we have lived whether we succeed or fail. There is sweetness in every part of life and I will always remind myself. 

Now to take another step forward. 

Wabi-Sabi

Three years ago today.
You hear people say it all the time: "It's funny how time flies by."
And it really is funny because one moment you are waiting to go to yoga class and then three years later you are in Yoga Teacher Training.
I wish I could say I knew I wanted to work on becoming a yoga teacher.
 If I felt then how I felt now, well, I would have said "I love you" to Alex first; I would have changed my major to Exercise Science or Health to be a nutritionist. I wouldn't have let myself be so afraid of failing science courses-- or afraid of anything else so petty.
There are a lot of things that the person I am right now would have done differently if sent back in time. The fact is that I'm here. I made all the choices I made in the past and without them, I may be somewhere different. Instead of writing this during my slow time at the library, I may not have ever written this.
Every moment has a purpose-- the one you give to it.
So this moment, three years ago today, is a reflection of my hopes today.
Someday in the future I will once again be asking people to let me be a part of their day. I hope to share some of the beauty this life has to offer. I hope to ask them to leave their troubles at the door with their shoes and bring their mats in with their hearts. I hope to be the teacher they deserve and a friend they can turn to when life just isn't what they thought it would be.

There is a Japanese a phrase Wabi-Sabi, it is a way of living that emphasizes finding beauty in imperfection, and accepting the natural cycle of growth and decay.

More and more my yoga practice supports Wabi-Sabi; accepting who I am today, where my body is at. I see the improvements that can be made but I also honor myself as I am-- beautiful in this moment, in this world.

Gears in the machine

Today one of my coworker's friends died.

Upon discovery, there was a moment of silence, a weight in the air. 

I held her and comforted her with a warm hand on her back. +

Then others did the same. 

Then she was left in her seat. The humming of machines continued.

What do you say when this occurs? I've become comfortable with silence-- allowing the person in pain to be in that state, to feel how they feel.

Others say "Calm down, don't get yourself sick."

But, really, don't we feel worse when we hold the sadness in? Don't we poison ourselves when we try to contain the uncontainable? The weight can be crushing, piercing, and even debilitating. 

And yet when such events are discovered at work, we are expected to keep working the machine of our job. We are expected to continue on as if nothing had happened.

Yes, we continue our lives and work after someone close has passed on but shouldn't everyone be granted some time to mourn? 

We are emotional creatures. Even when we practice aparigraha (nongrasping/attachment) we still feel. Emotions take time to process and accept. 

Is our society so uncomfortable with death that we would rather push a gear in a machine even though it is missing a tooth?

A lot of work environments out there do understand but I'm not sure how I feel about those that brush raw humanity to the side.

Ishvara-Pranidhana : Let the universe guide you

by gimgams, dA

This journey can be challenging sometimes. Not just with getting onto the mat (TAPAS!) but also deciphering new feelings and thoughts that come with diving deeper into myself. Discovering what I truly want is frightening because often I'm not sure how to make the proper motions.
So far I've found I don't want a full time job, but I need to make enough to pay bills. I've always known I want to help people but now I see that I want to give them the opportunity to break free from our society's norms and discover true health and wellness (i.e. gardening, yoga, food).

I have also found that I truly enjoy simple foods, not just because they're easier to make but also because I can taste each aspect of the meal: the nuttiness of quinoa, the umami of different mushrooms, the sweetness of a banana, the crunchiness of fresh cooked green beans, the crispness granted with fresh lemon juice in water.
My joy of simplicity extends out into other aspects of my life as well: the sound of natural running water, the warmth of Penny's belly, Alex's full-hearted laugh, the colors of blue in nature all around me, the feeling of being in a house made of logs (Lotus Pond, my Uncle's home on Bear Mountain NY), the feeling I get when looking at the colors granted to the sky as the sun rises and falls.

Maybe the proper motions are just doing what I enjoy doing and putting my all into it. This weekend Larissa, my pranayama teacher, touched on Ishvara-Pranidhana, the idea of letting the universe guide you. She shared how she's gotten where she is today by taking what opportunities are given to her and building from there. She doesn't seek out jobs, they come to her.
It is a rather difficult concept to get my western mind wrapped around it but I think the idea really stems from the power of initial inquiry: you touch the surface of the water with a stick one time and it ripples, the water is unsettled and shifts-- options move towards you.
So the lesson is, do what you love, the rest will come.


Another article that talks about going with the flow of the universe: The Real Meaning of Go With the Flow by Sara Tomassini.