why I love yoga

There are about 100 reasons I love yoga.  These are the top ten:

1.  Yoga clothes.  Stretchy, comfy, non-binding, mildly-flattering.  Say no more.

2.  Awesome pose names.  When my sister and I were little, we used to make up words by putting syllables together and saying them confidently, as if they were words.  Our best combos?  Plib-doo, snib-wad, dil-do.  Yoga brings me back to my childhood roots, with words like hanumanasana, eka pada rajakapotasana and dwi pada viparita dandasana (Upward Facing Two-Foot Staff Pose, if you must know.)

3.  Being with myself.  It's an hour and a half where I don't have to think about anything but whether my foot is in alignment with my knee.  Or if the stretch in my shoulder feels good or not.

4.  Having a bodily sense of humor.  I've been lucky to have yoga instructors who are not serious downers.  They've all been very gentle, friendly, easy women (hey! not that kind of easy!) who take their own practice with a grain of salt, and encourage us to take ours that way.

5.  Connecting with Lisa.  She's my yoga buddy.  Going without her feels different.  Not bad different, but I like it better when she's there.

6.  Dedicating my practice to something.  My instructor encourages us to take a moment at the beginning of class to pick something to dedicate the next 90 minutes to.  I don't know if I'm supposed to think about my dedication for the next 90 minutes (I rarely do), but I like the idea that the universe is responding to my issue -- kind of like the Prayers for the People that we did growing up in the Episcopal church.  But way less Jesus-y.  I've dedicated my practice to forgiveness, to Lisa, to my future boyfriend, wheresoever he is...

7.  Did I mention the yoga clothes?  I've lost my ability to dress like a professional.

8.  Savasana.  Corpse pose.  Basically, laying on the floor, dead-like for 10-15 minutes.  Letting thoughts come and go.  Wrapped in a blanket, rewarding myself for taking the time for myself.

9.  Using my mat.  I've had it for a hundred years and only recently started using it.  Now I feel better about the space it takes up in my apartment.

10.  Being done with yoga.  There's this nice, rubber noodle feeling afterwards.  Like I'm in a warm broth of happiness, relaxation, and peace.  And what am I wearing?  Yoga clothes.  Say no more.

more on beginner's mind

My last post mentioned the concept of beginner's mind, and I found an article that expands on it, pointing out 10 different ways to expand your perspective:

1. Take one step at a time.
2. Fall down seven times, get up eight times.
3. Use Don’t Know mind.
4. Live without shoulds.
5. Make use of experience
6. Let go of being an expert.
7. Experience the moment fully.
8. Disregard common sense.
9. Discard fear of failure.
10. Use the spirit of inquiry

Read the rest of the article here.  I enjoyed it and hope you will, too.

the power of listening

I've recently re-started a meditation practice, and I'm not particularly good at it.  My mind wanders, thinks about what I should wear today and how to get my neighbors to stop slamming the door at 6:15, but when I realize that I'm wandering, the first thing I do is bring my attention back to my listening.  I hear the sound of my breath, my DVR spinning, the garbage truck going by, the constant hum of traffic from the highway.  Just tuning in like this gives me a sense of my physical space, and reminds me that I am here, now, in the moment, in my apartment.  And, yeah, ok, my mind goes off again, worrying that I don't have anything to eat for lunch and that my knee hurts and I'll probably be hobbling like a granny when I get up.  But then I go back to the sound.

Wander, rinse, repeat.

Plenty of people claim to be bad meditators -- they can't still their minds.  And I'm with them.  I get caught in my monkey thoughts (which, oddly enough, used to continually involve Janis Joplin's "Me and Bobby McGee") but what helps me get out of them is listening.  Focusing on sound as if I'm trying to hear a mouse in my radiator.  It takes time and attention, but I think the space it's giving me between my reactions and my responses is worth the effort.

Julian Treasure is a huge sound-lover.  He spoke at TED in the video below about the power of listening.  I think about it especially in relation to dating and meeting new people.  How many times have you been sitting with a stranger, hearing what he or she is saying, but really focusing on what you want to say next?  Formulating your charming, witty, pointed response without fully taking in what your date (or coworker or instructor) has said.  The process of real, deep listening can be a connector.  It can bring you together with this stranger -- or this family member, or friend, or unintentionally-door-slamming neighbor -- in a way that hearing just can't do.



Steven Covey, in his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, said "Seek first to understand, then to be understood."  And Julian Treasure says that we have to "listen consciously to live fully."

I totally agree.  Sign me up.

what I learned about presence

Often, when I'm working on these different months, I don't know what the month is really about until it's almost over. And that was true with July. I started out thinking it was about sensuality, and about living in and enjoying my senses. But I realized that spending time focusing on my senses was really bringing me into the present moment. When I was chewing on that fig and goat cheese combo, I couldn't be thinking about how I was going to finish writing my class on time. When I was feeling the wind in my hair, I wasn't obsessing over when I was going to get my laundry done. And when I was hearing my nephew laugh, I was only thinking about how I could get him to do that some more. (Answer? Peek-a-boo. That kid's an addict.)

Living in the present moment when you're a really thinky person like I am, is a challenge. For years I have told myself this story about how my mind and my intellect make me funny and awesome. So I don't tamp down my brain because, according to the story, doing so would make me less funny and less awesome. I've resisted meditation. I've struggled with any definition of self that leaves out the mind. I list "smart" as one of my best qualities. Because, in fact, I think my brain's kinda sexy!

Recently, though, a teacher of mine explained meditation differently. She said that meditation wasn't about getting rid of your mind, it's about letting it rest. When I'm not calling on it to perform -- or rather, when I'm not rewarding it with my attention for performing -- it will take a break. And I can just rest in the peace and quiet. And I can feel the air conditioning on my legs. I can hear the thrum of the traffic outside. I can smell the barbecue wafting in through the window. I don't have to jump through hoops of worry. I don't have to repeat song lyrics or plan the day. I can just be here now and relax.

When I started the Year of Yes (well, ok, the 14 months of yes), I assigned the months to the qualities randomly (using Excel, because I'm a dork). Because of the way things are turning out, the month of Presence is being followed by the month of Mind. August is all about mental pursuits, the delight of ideas for the sake of ideas, and generally pushing myself to new perceptions. I've picked up a book that I think will be appropriate -- Change Your Brain, Change Your Life. And I'm looking for good lectures and learning opportunities.

At the same time that I'm fascinated by pushing my brain to new limits, I also want to retain what I've learned about presence so that I'm thinking only when I choose to. So that I'm the boss of my mind, not the other way around. I want to drive the mental bus and not just be some random passenger in a mental version of Speed. (Because if my mind the bus, what the hell is Keanu Reeves? Riddle me that one, fancy brain!)

take a deep breath...

I'm not very good at being quiet or sitting still. I like to move, to talk, to fidget, to twitch, and to generally think myself into all sorts of things. But I'm finding that just plopping down, breathing deeply, and taking some time Not Thinking is doing me a world a good.

It was hard to start at first, just sitting there quietly, so I downloaded a series of guided meditations from meditation oasis. What's great about them is that they're short (between 8 and 20 minutes) and easy to listen to. Not too cheesy, not too demanding, just lots of space To Be.

Which, if I'm honest, I really need.