Magnificent Mess

   I have decided to take on a mantra for this year and it is “Don’t Try So Hard!”. In a recent conversation with one of my wise teachers we examined my tendency to hold myself to a strict and high standard especially in my yoga teaching, and how I beat myself up when I feel I have not performed or shown up the way I want to. I try so very hard, and what it is really about is feeling I need to prove myself worthy. The problem is that that place that seeks to be filled is never satisfied, no matter how hard I might try or how good I might be. This method is madness.

   There is a saying, “When you know better, you do better.”, I am finally identifying and owning this dysfunctional pattern and now with my mantra as my guide I can continue to make friends with this wounded space and give it what it needs to heal. I have already made some real progress and find myself being less reactive when I make a mistake or things don’t come out exceptional in my mind.
I remember in the module on transformational teaching in my 500 hour yoga teacher training Vidya and Devarshi saying “Hear the truth. You are already perfect, complete, infinite and whole just as you are.”.  I wanted to believe that concept and in truth the deepest part of me did, but this black hole wound kept it from shining through. It is faith in those words though which will fill the hole, nothing else will.

  Imagine what it would be like if we all took on this mantra and treated ourselves with less strictness and judgment. What if instead of “Do more, try harder.” we could embrace “Do less, be softer.”?  I don’t think this is a call to apathy or laziness. I think it is a call to balance and respect of energy.  A good friend recently said to me in a conversation about this very topic of my insecurity in teaching, “Just be yourself, and it will be perfect.”, and now I pass that on to you. Whatever you do in any moment, just be yourself, and know, really know, breathe it in, that that is enough.       
      
 

“Forty is a most beautiful age. In mystic thought forty symbolizes the ascent from one level to a higher one and spiritual awakening. When a baby is born it takes forty days for him to get ready to start life on earth. And when we are in love we need to wait forty days to be sure of our feelings. The Flood of Noah lasted forty days, and while the waters destroyed life, they also washed all impurity away. In Islamic mysticism there are forty degrees between man and God. Likewise there are four basic stages of consciousness and ten degrees in each making forty total levels. Jesus went into the wilderness for forty days and nights. Muhammad was forty years old when he received the call to become a prophet. Buddha meditated under the linden tree for forty days. You receive a new mission at forty, a new lease on life! You have reached a most auspicious number. Congratulations! There are no wrinkles or gray hair strong enough to defy the power of forty!” ~ from “The Forty Rules of Love ~ A Novel of Rumi” by Elif Shafak

I turned forty today. I must say I am excited about entering this next decade. As opposed to my teens, twenties and even much of my thirties I feel grounded and secure. I know what moves me, I know what I love (and what I don’t), I feel alive and vital and have a growing sense of my depth of spirit and with all the work and wonder, adventure and agony, fear and ferocity that has gotten me thus far I am tingling with anticipation of what lies ahead.

My teens and early twenties were very difficult and painful years for me. I struggled with low self -esteem , depression and anxiety. I made a lot of bad choices and by the grace of God got by without suffering the full consequences of those choices. I was very unhealthy. I drank, smoked and did everything to excess. Most of all I was a lost soul who had no sense of self or worthiness. No direction.

My twenties were about beginning to reclaim myself and to begin the difficult work of self inquiry and inspection. In my twenties I found love and got married, began to realize that I have value and ability, that I had more potential and courage than I had ever recognized before. By the end of my twenties I had done much soul searching, crying, battling, adventuring and questioning. I had two children by the age of twenty nine and despite my terror about being a mother I loved them intensely from the fist moment they each arrived.

My thirties have been a true decade of transformation, revolution and coming home. My thirties have been a WOW, never thought that would happen, amazing journey with a voice whispering to me along the way “Remember who you are.” In this transformation have been struggles and mistakes and heartbreak but coupled with so much joy and awakening unlike ever before. So as I leave this marvelous and messy decade behind I want to acknowledge here, with gratitude, some of the wonderful things it has brought me.

~ Two more daughters.  Meg who came to us through foster care at the age of 12 and then we became her legal guardians, and the birth of Harper. Mason is our son and eldest turning 13 soon, and Avery our other daughter is 10.

~ I found yoga and knew immediately it would be my life calling. Yoga is my way of being and my spiritual path.

~ I explored art and photography and have shown in galleries.

~Became a yoga teacher. First earning my 200 hour and then my 500 hour certificates.

~ I have moved to the East Coast, with my amazing husband and kids and have been in New York and now Connecticut (close to my spiritual home Kripalu Center).

~ I met Jill Perry and with her help and guidance have become a marathon runner. NEVER thought I could or would ever achieve that!

~ Started Whole Running with Jill Perry. Starting and running a small business another never would have thought.

~ Found Yoga Dance and beloved teacher Megha who has been like my mother of dance. She showed me the way home to the dancer I have always been. Became a Let Your Yoga Dance teacher and now assist the trainings.

~ Found my spiritual teacher Vidya Ma who showed me that miracles do happen because we made one happen.

~ I am currently in a yearlong teacher training called The Acharya Intensive with Vidya Ma and Devarshi learning and exploring what it means to be a spiritual teacher. ME a SPIRITUAL TEACHER?  Yes, everything in me knows I am where I am supposed to be.

I feel so very blessed for all that I have and for the learning I have received thus far. I look forward to experiencing and celebrating all that is to come whether it be happiness or hardship. All experience arrives right on time and for good reason to further our growth and awakening. Everything calls us home to love, the true and endless nature of all of us.

To end here is a quote that showed up on Facebook today.

  an excerpt from Universal Birthday Messages
by Shri Brahmananda Sarasvati
…
The first and last command of the inner Guru is this: not to have identity with the body and mind. You are not the body and mind, although you have a body and mind. Body and mind are your vehicles. They depend on you.
They are alive because of you; otherwise, they are already dead.

You are the ocean of awareness, and that awareness is the first and last religion, the first and last freedom. Awareness is your real home, which is called OM.

   

 I spent this past week at my spiritual home in this life, Kripalu Center, in the beautiful Berkshires of Massachusetts. I was there doing one of the things I love most, assisting Let Your Yoga Dance teacher training. One of my jobs in the program is to lead morning yoga class for our group. My first time up came Tuesday morning and I was feeling quite nervous as there were several fabulous and experienced yoga teachers in the group, as well as some people with little yoga experience at all. I am a planner and bit of a control freak with my classes and I hold high expectations of myself. I spent Monday night writing my plan and feeling the sequencing, and then dreamt of it during my sparse sleep that night.

  I arrived in the room early to move, breathe, and find my courage as well as my center. At 6:30 a.m. everyone had arrived and class began. As I got the group moving in gentle warm ups, I found my rhythm and was feeling connected and at ease. We eventually made our way into a sequence of spinal movements and flow, a graceful dance of movement and breath. My planned transition came and then a voice from the front of the room asked, “Don’t we need to do the other side?”.  My heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. I waited to feel the crushing pain of my mistake, my heartbreak in the failure. Instead, to my own shock and surprise, it did not come, and instead I found myself smiling, with a light heart. I made a comment about being a little vata (airy) and saying that of course we will do the other side. That was that, a moment of experience, and then it was gone.

  I continued class, found my flow again, and in no time relaxation was upon us. I put on some dreamy music and gave the class guidance in letting go and finding stillness. I could feel the energy of the room become quiet and expansive and I felt quite happy and complete. That is when the fire alarm went off. Again, I paused to receive the panic and resistance, and again it did not come. Instead I found another inner smile and giggle, and I spoke into the microphone in a deep slow tone, “Your relaxation has come to an end. (and then a quick deadpan) Om shanti. Run for your lives.” Everyone rose up with laughter fluttering through the room, and we made our way outside.  It was cool and rainy but I took deep breaths and just kept smiling.

  Afterward, I felt such a glowing pride and sense of victory.  I have a strong and sometimes brutal inner critic and tend to hold myself to strict standards from a fear of rejection. God forbid I would make a mistake or lose control, then everyone would see my flawed messy self and be done with me. Ridiculous and irrational? Yes, but who isn’t, in these soft, tender, hidden regions? Chances are you might feel this way too and now you know you are not alone. Victory is possible. On this day, in this class, a miracle happened. The miracle of me finding compassion instead of criticism, for no one but myself. I found my natural sense of humor and lightness of being. I received experience without attachment or judgment. I encountered my witness consciousness in a place where it would usually succumb to the strong forces of my story of rejection. Wow, what a blessing, what a rush of freedom!

 I am sure that this is a part of myself that I will face again and again, but I now have a jumping off point to go to. I have a new storyline and a new way of being with this part of myself.  I know and I teach that the only way to heal fully is to embrace all parts of ourselves, the parts we love and the parts we disdain. Yoga means union, to welcome it all and find the marvelous miracle of who we are, even in the mess, the loss of control, the undoing of plans. Yoga is learning to love ourselves without exception or condition, a difficult practice, but one full of grace.

Om shanti.   

This poem by the Sufi poet Rumi has helped me through when life has seemed too difficult, through times when I have questioned my own feelings and experiences. It has helped me when things have seemed unfair or uncertain, or when I have been hurt. This poem has served as my guide and companion, my mantra and my prayer.

 As I prepare to turn forty, I feel an energetic shift emerging, a change of tides, and Rumi has been popping up very frequently around me. Recently, I was at the library with a book in hand, ready to leave, when something told me to look on the other side of the shelf. I walked around, and the crimson and yellow detail of a cover caught my eye. I picked up that book and the title was “The Forty Rules of Love – A Novel of Rumi” (Elif Shafak). Of course, I knew this book had my name on it.  I checked it out, went home and began to read. I got goosebumps when I realized that this book contained not only a story of Rumi, but another main storyline about a women on the verge of forty. Wow, coincidence, I think not.  So, I hope if you have never heard of Rumi before this poem will open the door. 

I think of Rumi as one of my guardian angels in this life and I feel a debt of gratitude to him in my heart and my soul.  Light and love to all.      

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

  Fall has arrived! In my yoga class today I talked about fall being a shift in energy from the outward flow of spring and summer, towards introspective energy which lasts through winter. In fact, this dance of expansion and contraction is everywhere, all around us. It is the pulse of the universe itself.

 Our breath is a flow of expansion and contraction, our heart beats by constriction and release, every cell of our body joins in this rhythm. The seasons follow this energetic loop. Spring and summer are times of birth and growth, the expanding energy. Fall and winter are times of drawing inward, conservation and stillness. All of this is emblematic of the cycles of birth and death, both figurative and actual.

  Use this season as a time to nurture and sustain yourself. Relish the crispness that calls you to cuddle up under a blanket, or next to a fire, to read a good book or write in your journal. Get out and enjoy the beauty and bounty of the season and then take time to meditate and reflect. Allow yourself the opportunity to dig into the rich soil of experience and to plant seeds of intention for new growth.  Also let this be a time of deep surrender, to let go of things that are no longer useful or healthy, giving them back to the earth. Fall is a special time of gathering, pausing, inspecting, slowing down to be nourished and replenished, so the seeds of new growth and possibility can begin to take root.

Happy fall!! Namaste.   
,

  In my last post I talked about trying new things and bringing aspirations and dreams to life. I also believe in trying to practice what I preach. In that spirit I went to my first hip-hop dance class last night.

I have always loved to dance but have never received any sort of formal dance training. I am a certified Yoga Dance teacher and that training opened me up to new worlds and possibilities of movement. It brought me home to and validated the dancer in me unlike anything before, but to take a straight up dance class at a dance school caused me a bit of trepidation. What if I found myself ungraceful and uncoordinated? What if I couldn’t get it? What if I am not good enough? That last question is the perennial one of my life, it is the fear that I walk through, and it runs deep. Somehow, when it matters, I have found ways to challenge that fear and show up. My slogan could be, “I am terrified most of the time but I just show up anyway.”

    I tell yoga students very often to be a C student, I say in this blog that the beauty of life is not in perfection, it is in embracing and loving the mess, and I reminded myself of that on the drive over. I got to the class and softened as I saw some of my friends there, and those of us who were first timers supported each other and got encouragment from the veterans. We went into the studio and I found a good hiding spot at the back of the room and focused on my yogic breathing. Then the lights dimmed and the music came on and I found myself, as I always do, in the beat and primal pulse of the music, and we began to dance. I watched the steps carefully and fumbled around a bit, but then I allowed my body to do the thinking and I began to get it! By the end of the class I was lit up, having fun and busting a move. After class, the teacher said to me ” Hey, you were really good, you were jamming back there! Not bad for a yoga chick.”  Yep, this yoga chick was a bit terrified but showed up anyway and found her groove. Now, repeat again and again, looking inward and moving and grooving forward.

Dance on everybody, whatever your dance might be! Go ahead, bust a move!           

  On Sunday I completed my third sprint triathlon and it was a truly amazing and inspirational experience. Sunday was also the tenth anniversary of the September 11th attacks. Just like that day ten years ago the skies were clear and the sun was stunning and brilliant. Under those perfect skies gathered 500 women of all ages, shapes and colors. We made our way clad in wetsuits, swimsuits, swim caps and goggles down to the cool sand of the beach. There was a procession of honor and dedication with bagpipes and flags raised, there were tears and prayers, the song Amazing Grace and silence to honor the day. Suddenly, it seemed, to do this race, on this day, with all these women was the perfect tribute. We showed up to be in this temporary tribe, to share in an experience of strength and endurance, walking, or more accurately, swimming, cycling,and running through fear to personal triumph. We showed not only physical strength but mental as well, and even more than that, so much strength of spirit. It served as proof that we could rise above darkness, grief and fear. It seemed to symbolize unity and strength, exactly the focus needed on such a day.

  On a personal level every race I do brings me up against, fear, doubt, and insecurity. Every time I endure and push through to cross that finish line I bust through those barriers. I think it is vital for personal growth and evolution to take on a challenge and walk though fear to achieve something you dream of doing, no matter how far flung or unlikely it may seem. People can do most anything when they have the passion to step forward and try. It is never too late or impossible to grasp a dream and bring it to life.

What do you dream of doing? What are you waiting for?           

  The morning Hurricane Irene arrived we got up and watched some news on the television but mostly just stared out the windows and listened, as the rain pounded, the wind howled and our backyard brook roared. The storm was intense but less so than we had anticipated and she was quickly downgraded to a tropical storm. So we had breakfast and went about doing chores and trying to make it a productive day. Around eleven we all gathered at the computer area as my husband, Stephen, was trying to post a video of the brook, and I was checking email.We figured we had got by with no damage and no loss of power, and then it happened. The lights went out, came back on for a minute of brown out, and then gone. This was Sunday morning and we would not regain power until Friday night. We would all learn from this experience.

Stephen and I have talked about this, and what our learning boils down to is a realization of our attachments to many things that we usually don’t consider. Attachments to hot water, dishwasher, refrigerator, washing machine, and stove, having light when and where we want it, to clocks, and stereos, but most of all to our televisions and computers. We were lucky to have a small generator to keep our refrigerators cold, give us minimal lighting in the early morning and evening and to give us a couple hours of precious television each day. We had our cell phones to stay connected. I know and complain about my kid’s attachment and reliance on television and computer but this experience showed to me that the parents in this house are reliant and very attached too. It brought to light for me how I rely on technology to occupy the kids so I can get other things done. Enlightening indeed!

The week seemed to drag on endlessly in some ways and in others was refreshing and fun. We spent time as a family playing board games , we had a fire pit with our neighbors one night and the kids played flashlight tag. I took the kids on outings during the day and the time became a bonding experience. We learned a lot in that week. We saw how we could pull together and adapt to circumstance. Most importantly it proved that despite the irritation of not having all these things we are attached to, that as long as we have each other it will always be alright. The experience inspired gratitude for all we are blessed with, and brought into perspective the depths of the real difficulties that others endure. I recently saw this gem, ironically on facebook, ” You only lose what you cling to.”  The lesson time and time again is that the real suffering does not come from the event or the loss but from our attachment and clinging. Life is trying so hard to help us learn if only we could trust it more. I will keep on trying.            

  If it seems like it has been awhile since I have posted you are right. I was, the entire week last week, without power, so no computer but lots of learning and experience. First I want to write about all that led up to that adventure. A week and a half ago now my community was buzzing with the news that Hurricane Irene had her sights set on Connecticut. She would be due to make landfall on Sunday morning and had the potential to be the worst hurricane event in decades for the state. The collective anxiety began to swell and by Friday you could feel it in the air. The stores became hives of fear and grasping, the water and bread sections emptied out, batteries were like gold and generators a treasure to find. Panic had made it’s landfall, the storm before the storm.

  I had yoga classes to teach the Friday and Saturday before the storm and brought this event right onto the mat. This is the stuff from which we gain the greatest insights and growth as yogis seeking liberation from suffering. This kind of event goes right into the heart of our deepest fear, the fear of death. How can we use our practice to take on our deepest fear and aversion? The answer that came to me was the simplicity and strength of the mountain. Mountain pose to steady and calm the body and mountain consciousness to still the mind. The mountain reminds us that we are rooted and secure with our feet on the earth, that the body rises up from this base with ease and energy, and although still on the outside the inner mountain pulses and flows with breath.

   Steady on this breath, the mind becomes like the vast sky surrounding the mountain. Mountain consciousness is the witness, or seer. In this state we are like the mountain letting whatever might unfold around us to unfold, without the need to judge or react, no need to evaluate or change. The mountain weathers storm and sun, night and day, winter as well as summer always rooted in it’s own simple being. Clouds might fill up it’s vast sky but they are temporary. The sky is always there, ever present, waiting to be seen again. Our thoughts and fears are like those clouds and when we can remember to see them for what they are, temporary phenomena, often as wispy and illusory as the form of a cloud itself we can then move back to the witness, free of desire or aversion, free of the “story”.  When we come into tadasana or mountain pose in our lives we connect to our deep wisdom and knowing instead of the ego driven story which brings reactivity and suffering.

It is also useful to remember that sometimes what the earth needs and what we need is for something to be destroyed or transformed to become the fertile soil for some new seed to sprout or for something to bear fruit. Often our suffering in life seems senseless at the time it happens but when we look back on it weeks, months or years later it makes perfect sense and we can see how without the trials of life we would be robbed of it’s gifts.  The majestic mountains we adore came mostly from great and cataclysmic shifts of the earth or were forged by fierce volcanic eruptions. Such is the nature of life, things are born and they die, sometimes we are in the energy of sustenance and sometimes we are in the energy of transformation and both are necessary for us to grow and awaken.

In the end, my community did not suffer any major damage and for that there is cause for much gratitude. My heart goes out to those who lost their homes and will struggle for a long time to come  because of this, but even in those cases the mountain with it’s strength and clarity, existing in the simplicity of the present moment and the breath is there, it is our birthright and our true nature.

Here is a touching song I used in those yoga classes. Namaste.

      

   On the rare occasion that I feel I have it all together I can almost always count on my kids to remind me otherwise. I must also confess that despite having some free spirited, relaxed and go with the flow qualities, I am a closet control freak. I thirst for order, simplicity, and peace. Achieving those ideals comes down to focusing on making those the qualities of the inner world even when the outer world is anything but. Life hands us all challenges and frustrations, we live in the mess of it all. My messiness just happens to be delivered to me, quite often, by the very nearest and dearest loves of my life, my kids.
  My experiences as a parent have taught me volumes on the subjects of patience, acceptance, and conflict resolution. My kids showed me early on that these are areas where I have been almost completely lacking, well, until they came along to train me.  All three of my children also inherited my, and their dad’s, fierce independence and stubborn nature and, like us, not nearly the same amount of patience.
     So recently, on a day where I was on the go, getting loads of things checked off as accomplished, I felt in control, handling life with ease, and then the kids intervened.  Fighting with each other is a very common, and in my opinion, the most grating and nerve splitting activity.  I was so in my cool and in control zone, but that instantly evaporated when I heard the first tones of yelling, crying and accusations flying. “He hit me!” “She pinched me!” “It is all his/her fault!” This falls upon me like nails on a chalkboard, I recoil from the chaos, I try to stay calm, try to find my yoga breath. My first request that they stop is calm, but drowned out by the continued conflict. My second request a louder “Please stop!”,  still ignored.  Finally I lose any patience I once had and at great volume say ” STOP NOW, PLEASE!!!!” At this, they all pause to look at me and then attack me with finger pointing and blame directing intensity. The power I do have,  is to send them to time out, or take away privileges, but on occasion that is met with sharp and stubborn answers of no. In the end, punishments are served and apologies always come (from kids and parents alike), peace returns, but not because I have total control. In reality, I have little more control over them than I do the weather. OK yes, I provide a healthy and nurturing environment, set limits and guide them. I give them love and structure, and in the world of nature versus nurture I think both are very important, but they are their own people and have been from the beginning.  If I have molded them at all they have equally molded me and the illusion of control gets shattered over and over again. What a gift!
    I have learned that the only thing I really control is my own thoughts, feelings and actions. The more I focus on my responses and inner environment the more I am able to have that sense of order, simplicity and peace. Opening with compassion and unconditional love to people is difficult, and then when our own identity and sense of self is wrapped into it, that can make it nearly impossible at times. Everyone comes into this life with unique gifts as well as flaws. Everyone has a journey to go through and lessons to learn and my children are part of my journey and I am part of theirs. One of my wisest teachers talks about how we make soul agreements with others, especially immediate family, before we come into this world. We make these partnerships to achieve the learning and evolution we are intended to in this life. I have not quite wrapped my mind around that concept, but it is very intriguing. What I do know, is that in any relationship, when we are trying to control the other person because of fear or desire, unconditional love is lost. To even try to love unconditionally might be the most challenging spiritual practice a person can aspire to. I, for one, think it is well worth it to try and fail, and then try and fail again. Giving up control, in the end, is the doorway to true freedom and true love.