Inversion

Teaching is so disorienting in the best possible way, allowing me to recognize the world as a medium again. The odyssey began at Sunstone Yoga Academy earlier this year. A few months later, I am infatuated with my position at Summit. An attempt to appropriately express my gratitude for these opportunities will not be successful. I have arguably had more small triumphs and life-giving interactions in the last few months than the last three years of my life combined.

A lot of time has been devoted to reflections on my own Dark Knight of the Soul- correlating the ending of curriculum driven life, grad school plans evaporating, best friends diffusing across the country, heaping romantic failure, a book called The History of Philosophy... I claw my way through layers of struggle in hopes of uncovering that one precipitating moment, that one fuck-up that turned my world upside down. Wrist deep in my own misery for almost two years, I came to a realization. That one glitch I vowed to correct and forever remove from my behavioral portfolio was a prayer.

I sat alone in the dark at the foot of the bed in my apartment on Elm Street. I collected a support system of books for my Boston University School of Public Health Masters of Public Health Public Health Promotion Emphasis prep earlier that day. Life was good, and I had a plan. I chose this moment to get greedy. What ELSE could a reasonably intelligent, traditionally attractive, white, middle class, Christian, American, college educated girl desire? To not hate herself.

I prayed for self-esteem. No the airbrushed, filtered, persuasive resume variety- we're talking the Drizzy Drake variety. We are talking about battle hardened confidence for the girl who had no concept of a closed door. I wont recount my lows here, if you're curious scroll down a ways. He is faithful my friends.

Last Tuesday I taught my first legitimate on-the-schedule (Noon at Summit Yoga Dallas) class. I stayed up too late the night before, but other than that felt as prepared as I could be. Early, I decided to grab Starbucks on the way in. Nine times out of ten... okay seven times out of ten... coffee is the nectar of the Gods- you feel indestructible, your IQ doubles, illusions of productivity abound, but sometimes.... sometimes the barista pushes a different button and the automated grinder dispenses straight poison into your tall one-pump pumpkin spice latte.

Sometimes you realize, with more anxiety than necessary, that you forgot the code to the building and send with trembling fingers an embarrassing text to your new boss. Sometimes your password does not unlock the log-in computer, and you get to break the ice by asking each of the strangers you are supposed to be instructing spiritually how to spell their names as you clumsily copy them down with varying accuracy on the back of a crumpled Walmart receipt you felt lucky to have found in your purse. Sometimes you are met with the faces of strong beautiful women expecting inversion practice. What they got was me- sweaty, shaky, intimidated me in all my caffeinated glory.

It was bad, but a week later I got another shot. I still had Starbucks, but gave myself a little more time for recovery. Knowing my potential for epic flailure survival, I was pleased to tap into this reserve far fewer times. Other than a few moments of awkwardness including at one point saying, "I like to feel what's inside... me." I felt like a real teacher for an hour, and I liked that person.

Sometimes yogis get a hard time from conservative Cristian groups because what we do resembles what they do. I think God is going to do what HE is going to do, and luckily one of those things is answering prayers. He is using yoga to answer one of mine, and I am enveloped in gratitude.

 

Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him,  and he will make straight your paths.

 

 

"Bein' humble don't work as well as bein' aware." -Drake

      
 

Ahimsa

I'm not educated enough to go on an enlightened political rant about the nature of terror. Shame on anyone who might accept judgments I pass on those who accept responsibility for the entire world. On the 13th anniversary of 9/11, I sat cross-legged listlessly alternating between stroking my laptop and spooning a bowl of Spaghettio's into my mouth. I knew at the time the general focus of this post would involve violence, but got as far as the next sentence before boring myself to tears.

Ahimsa is a Sanskrit word for "no-harm". It is included in the First Limb of Yoga, Universal Morality, but has strong ties to other eastern religions like Buddhism and Jainism especially.

Now that THAT'S over with, I have the most adorable little sister on the planet. My first memory of her follows my own footsteps and their shadows cast by dim white light on hardwood floor. The clumsy pitter-patter of my feet no doubt disturbs my parents, but not Avery. Two unflinching water-eyes anticipate the daily feat of toddler athleticism I undertake to be closer to her.

She has always been one of the most delightful people I know, and nothing is more exciting than waiting for her to arrive at an airport terminal. Her round soft and encouragingly animate blue eyes are framed by platinum blonde hair making her an instant sensation. She uses her sharpness and empathetic clarity to make herself and those around her comfortable anywhere, and takes her own "flail-ures"(Thanks Berny) with the comic grace and resilience of Lucile Ball. Basically she is my antithesis, and I used to beat her up a lot when I was little.

I have the most fascinating mother on the planet. My relationship with her is one of my most frustrating and rewarding. If you have spent any time around her, you have been caught off guard by reckless yet somehow relatable beauty. She believes in aliens, Jesus, independent voters, and Fox News. My mother is home for me, completely overwhelmed by the responsibilities of a family, daydreaming about a private getaway to Arkansas. She pauses only to listen to my juvenile frustrations with genuine understanding, or to ask if I want mustard on the sandwich I didn't have to ask for.

"No, that's okay." As it has been for twenty-five years. I don't come here just to eat, I promise.

"Are you sure?" She replies from behind the refrigerator door, "I have mustard..."

I don't like mustard, "Okay."

"Do you want me to heat it up?"

"No." Cold sandwiches are superior.

Microwave buttons chirp. "Are you sure?? ... I'll heat it up for you. Oh! ...and I have baked beans! I can put those on the stove if you want..."

My earliest memory of my mother is one of pride: the view from Indian-style watching her playfully lead an adult Sunday school class in a full length technicolor gown. Although her social media profile consists of sporadic Facebook ramblings visible to five people, she never fails to stimulate creative conversation with her sharp criticism and unapologetic conviction. She is a reliable champion and restraint, and I have not always appreciated her services.

Violence towards those we love is another one of those great sufferings life has to offer. God blesses us with proximity to other reflections of Him without removing their ability to disagree with, leave, or otherwise disappoint us. Terror on a global scale stems from the same roots as personal frustrations. Individuals become more attached to an inflated irrevocable scapegoat of a belief or expectation than their responsibility to converse with God daily in response to the less glamorous demands of  the perfect world He created... like being polite to people.

Resentment is an easy trap to fall into because an active spiritual life requires tremendous inward effort, and the results usually resemble outward stillness. We are called to constantly guard ourselves from harm while we transform the same energies often blamed for violent outrage into humble disciplined constructive linear accomplishments. This starts with believing that God gave you the ability to neutralize negativity without absorbing or propagating it.

I don't know that the natural order of the world can or should ever resemble peace or outward stillness on a global scale, but I know for a fact that adapting Ahimsa in my own life has made my corner of the world less threatening. As for my Spaghettio's, they are the ones with the little hotdogs in them, and they are delicious; so Ahimsa is a moving target. If this resonates with you, and even if it doesn't...

Namaste :)

 

 

Violence shall no more be heard in your land, devastation or destruction within your borders; you shall call your walls Salvation, and your gates Praise.

Isiah 60:18

Father, Forgive Them, For They Know Not What They Do.

And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." -Luke 23:34

The intention of my practice for the last week has been forgiveness. I imagine it can seem strange to choose a spiritual intention for a workout, but that's where I'm at. My mat is the place I explore my emotional dynamics in a way that feels safe.

Instructing others has brought me completely out of this comfort zone. Suddenly my private time to physically challenge myself is intruded upon. I demonstrate a pose while explaining movements in terms that wont confuse the people practicing with me while I try to keep track of an effective and safe sequence. I feel lucky to have chosen forgiveness as a focus, because it comes in handy when I make mistakes. Handling mistakes well comes in handy when I'm learning.

I learned early not to fear death. Life is a short detour, and Heaven is infinitely better than Earth. My Heaven was, and as naïve as it may sound, still is a place where love between myself and others never fades. If heaven is a place, If God is the kind of thing that will talk to me, If I'm the kind of thing that will still be curious about Him... These are my mature celestial daydreams.

I was shocked to receive such warm welcomes after completely butchering my first class. I got rights and lefts confused and encountered a yoga teacher's equivalent to writer's block too many times. Nerves were a huge interference with my breath which is never good, and any illusion of fluency was met with a room full of grimaces.

Later my roommate, a more experienced teacher, encouraged me, "Someone once told me, if everyone in the class looks like they are going to kill you, then you are doing something right. It means they are going inward."

Heaven has been the destination of my inward journey lately. I imagine God waiting to meet and walk with me to my home there. Today He smiled a riddle,
    
"Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh. Hey God. Heaven silly."
    
"Here?"
    
"uuuuhhh... YEaaah. Ya know? The place... that's perfect... that reward I'm supposed to deserve after all the BS I went through down there."
    
"Where?"
    
"ummmm? What?
Where I've been all this time! Where I was born and worked and hung out with everyone else... Ya know??!!! Where I was underappreciated and disappointed... Where I fought for You and my family and the things that are good... Where no one would listen to me... You know that place you made...where there are so many people and so much suffering."

"Hell?"

"No... Earth."

"That's not the Earth. Earth is perfect and so are the people in it. Where HAVE you been all this time? What debt is owed to you?"

Being glared at by a room full of strangers for an hour while attempting something new is probably not on anyone's bucket list, but I made a choice to perceive negative feedback when I could have been celebrating a moment I had worked really hard for. The idea that exertion is uncomfortable is arguably a FAR more logical explanation than what my anxiety ridden brain carelessly conjured.

Resentment arises from lack of compassion. We fail to correctly interpret the intentions of others. That isn't to say that humans don't hurt each other on purpose, but if we are to be healthy people, we must take care to protect ourselves from self-injury. We always have a choice to accept other's intentions towards us as positively as possible or avoid situations where other's harmful intentions are difficult to interpret any other way.

Accepting this responsibility in our dealings with others is only possible when we reach a more tolerant position with ourselves. We never know the true nature of other's interpretations of us- sometimes it's hard to get a read on our own- but we can be sure of God's. I think that cultivating forgiveness allows us to accept our limitations as a natural law of Creation. Acting creatively and considerately within this framework is as close as we will ever be to perfection.