How Yoga Saved My Life ~ Part 2

(***This post got long so I broke it down into two parts. You can read Part 1 here.)

Teacher training was like rehab. It was the only period of my adult life that I was not only sober but abstinent. I felt like I had grown wings.

But, as folks like me are wont to do, I went to another extreme. Yoga became the end all be all of my existence; all my time, money, thoughts, everything was spent on furthering my practice. I put famous yoga teachers up on pedestals. I couldn't imagine dating someone who wasn't a "yogi" (that's a killer story for another time, maybe). I never threw down for the $98 yoga pants, but I came damn close.

Luckily (I can say that now in retrospect), my yoga bubble got popped in a spectacular fashion. You can read about it here, also here. Then, my favorite teacher moved away and I felt un-tethered from everything that had been keeping me sane. The months after that were spent in deep reflection: once again, I was searching outside of myself for the answers that nobody but me could discover.

Gingerly, and after great contemplation, I got down from my high horse. I took a step back from teaching. I went back to basics, creating my practice anew, asking my inner teacher the next step to take, rather than mimicking what I *thought* a "real" yogi would do.

I'm sharing all these things (even though it's super scary to be this honest) because as I go deeper and deeper with my business, and deeper and deeper into life, I have to be as authentic as possible: not only because I am in the business of serving others, but because I need a way to hold myself accountable to the commitments I've made to myself--and to my soul; to the world I want to create and in which I want to participate. I share these things because I want you all to know that when I talk about health and wellness and living a full, inspired, healthy, creative life, I am not pulling something out of my ass or from some book I read; I have struggled hugely with simply being who I am, in all my flawed glory.

The biggest thing I'm getting is that I have a choice in all this. I can choose to make the process the goal, instead of waiting for some mythical future to arrive where I have the perfect body, all the money, a nice apartment, work that fulfills me, and the freedom to play and travel as much as I want. I can choose happiness, health, wealth, love, creativity, and joy in the nitty gritty of every day life--instead of fleeing reality. I can wake up every day and commit again and again to discovering the extraordinary in the ordinariness of daily life. When I can focus on the process and remove the pressure of the fabled end result, a freedom and clarity arises that I never thought possible; what's more, when I choose the things I'm committed to, instead of worrying over what I want to avoid, my life rises up in support of those choices. I am no longer at the mercy of past patterns; now, I have a say in the matter.

I am grateful for a life of moderation. Now, my antennae perk up anytime I start to tilt too far into extreme territory--it's only challenging when it's something perceived as "healthy" (Paleo, anyone!?). These days, I find infinite solace in early bedtimes, home-cooked meals, a daily writing practice and a return to my first love, dance. I still practice yoga, the difference is that now it's one of many tools in my toolbox, rather than the ONLY ONE.

If I were to consolidate all of this into some type of advice it would be thus: Find a daily practice. Doesn't matter what it is--but make sure to do it every day. Eat good food, and plenty of it. Get to bed early and take lots of naps. Move your body in a way that makes you feel strong and vital. Ask for help when you feel stuck. Go on vacation as much as possible, even if all you can swing are weekend trips here and there. Celebrate your accomplishments, especially the seemingly "little"ones. And most of all, TRUST THE PROCESS. Otherwise, you'll miss out on life, and, as we all know, this is the only one we get.

I usually don't share Hafiz or Rumi poems (years of hearing them in nearly every yoga class kinda killed the magic for me); this is too appropriate not to share (and maybe it's time for me to give up that story, too):

Cast Your Votes for Dancing

Hafiz

I know the voice of depression

still calls to you.

I know those habits that can ruin your life

Still send their invitations.

But you are with the friend now

And look so much stronger.

You can stay that way

And even bloom!..

Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins

That may buy you just a moment of pleasure, 

But then drag you for days,

Like a broken man

Behind a farting camel.

O keep squeezing drops of the Sun

From your prayers and work and music

And from your companions' beautiful laughter

And from the most insignificant movements

Of your own holy body.

Now, sweet one,

Be wise.

Cast all your votes

for dancing!

How Yoga Saved My Life ~ Part 1

(***This post ended up being longer than I anticipated, so I broke it up into two parts~Dani)

I spent most of my life fleeing myself. In junior high, I went invisible, and by high school my disappearance was complete; I navigated the turbulent waters unseen except for the close knit group of friends with whom I surrounded myself. I began to numb out. In high school it was pot, and then in college, booze (whoever says marijuana is the gateway drug is an idiot; alcohol is FAR more dangerous, especially if being a drunk is something you carry in your genes). I took my first yoga class in 2002, as a freshman in college, to fulfill a one unit requirement. We practiced entirely in the dark, on a padded floor in a room in the basement of an old building at SF State. I'm pretty sure the majority of the classes were spent in savasana. I couldn't really say what it was but there was something I liked about the classes, and sophomore year when I moved to the Haight I started practicing weekly at Yoga Tree before it started to pimp itself out, back in the day when drop in classes were still $10 and you could buy yoga clothes for less then a flight to Orange County.

I didn't become a yoga die-hard until 2007--up to then I still spent most of my time throwing myself into the void, with little glimmers of re-connection here and there as I sweat my life out onto the mat. I knew that I liked how I felt after yoga class. I knew that I loved feeling strong in my body, especially after years of cutting myself off from it's messages. I knew that it was the only place I felt completely free and safe to fully express myself. Again, the shift didn't happen over night; I can't tell you how many Sunday morning classes I went to class hungover and disgusted with myself. I didn't realize until much later, but through all the ups and downs and learning experiences of my early 20's, yoga was the one thread that connected everything.

Over time (6 years to be exact), yoga began to permeate more and more of my life. It stopped being this thing I did to get exercise or detox and became the cornerstone around which I lived my life. I often ask myself how this happened. The spiritual teachings were part of it, but truly, I think the transformation occurred when I began to re-inhabit my body; when I started connecting the dots between the way I responded to challenges on the mat as a mirror for how I responded to challenges in my daily life. Instead of running away from myself, for the first time I came home: to my body, and it's wisdom, infinitely wiser than the evil critic in my head.

Ever since I was a kid I experienced anxiety; at age 10 I was an insomniac who would wake my mother up nearly every night, complaining of "the funny feeling;" an uncomfortable angst in the pit of my stomach that I could barely describe let alone for which I could pin down a cause. Constantly vigilant of others' perceived opinions of me, I never pursued anything that would put me in the spotlight or require me to be seen. As I grew up, I began using substances to mellow down the constant internal chatter. It was the only way I had figured out how to ease my troubled brain.

Practicing yoga was the first time I could let all these things simply...be. The first time I felt a buzz without the help of anything outside myself. The first time I could sit with my reality without retreating in a panic or leaving my body completely. I'm telling you, this was magic for me: the realization that I could actually LIKE myself. And then, more magic: that "like" turned to "love."

I was still flirting with extremes at this point; I would often go from late night drunken party on Friday to all day yoga workshop on Saturday, no biggie. I saw more and more clearly the duality of life: as the light began to shine more brightly, the shadow became more pronounced. I started to see my practice as the ultimate act of self love, and with this realization came the clarity that in this case it couldn't be both/and; I had to commit completely and let the old ways die. I moved to Thailand for eight months and in this new environment, away from all the STUFF, I felt something inside me start to blossom. I came home and studied with Katchie and Sianna, and doors continued to open.

This Saturn Return Business is No Joke Y'all

So I've been dealing with some pretty hefty growing pains over the last few months. It's been interesting how taking responsibility for every aspect of my life is bringing out all sorts of behavior I thought was long behind me-all tried and true coping mechanisms from my party girl past. Building a business is only a part. As I get clearer and clearer of my message, I am forced to get clearer and clearer on what my life is for. Mostly what I'm experiencing is a whole lot of resistance. I see what needs to be done, I map it out, I have a vision; but I can't for the life of me get into action. Can you relate? I'm finally getting my act together, but it took me getting so SICK of myself that I finally couldn't avoid it anymore.

Good thing I can blame it on my Saturn Return. (Click the links, it's some juicy astrological tish, yo).

Back to the growth spurt. My ego is one fucked up asshole sometimes, no lie. It's doing everything it can to distract me from all the actions I know I need to be taking, to forward all the grown up aspects of my life (finances, career, home, relationships-you know, all the things that make you an ADULT, people).

These pains are normal, my mind groks that--I know life is change and growth and when these natural processes stop I'll be dead. As a coping mechanism, I've been trying to think of myself as a butterfly (a caterpillar, really), going through metamorphosis. I know it's a bit dramatic but it helps when I'm hard on myself, or life feels sticky, to remember that some gorgeous stuff is getting cooked up in all this gunk. Especially on the days I feel like I'm doing everything I can to avoid change; the days when everything feels completely insurmountable and I can barely get out of bed. 

As if

Today in my morning pages I got that I am NOT A BUTTERFLY, and not only am I not a butterfly, I don't want to be one! 

I am a snake.

Shedding all the old ways, like a skin; a skin that's grown too tight. It doesn't slip off easily, like a coat or a jacket; it's itchy and unbearable - until - finally, it's all slithered through, the old casing a dusty shell. The head is the last to go. And it's not the last skin to be left behind...

Bring it

Anyway, I feel like I'm just starting to slither out. It's tight and near suffocating sometimes but I have to be patient and allow the new, fresh skin to reveal itself. What kind of snake do I want to be?

All this work, of being human, expanding oneself, committing to having a life of one's dreams: it's not pretty little butterflies. It is a snake shedding its skin. It's tight, dry, and above all, SLOW. It's not particularly glamourous.

More to come.

How do you deal with stress?

Aye yai yai!!!!

How do you personally deal with stress?

Living in a city, it's easy to normalize that familiar feeling of overwhelm.

We think we've got it handled, and then it comes as a surprise when it all comes crashing down around us in the form of sickness, anxiety, poor sleep, or reverting to past habits that no longer serve (maybe with food or alcohol).

I wanted to share with you some of my tried-and-trues when it comes to managing stress. You can begin to incorporate all of these, or one at a time. It's also nice to have a little list handy, so when you catch yourself spiraling out of balance, you can take a quick look and recommit to your health right then and there.

Shifting the Default

With all the talk of cycles ending, moving from light into dark, expansion into contraction, it seems the natural progression of these thoughts brings me to the following question:

How does one navigate transition and change gracefully?

Typically we humans have our defaults set in such a way that we don't even realize we are in a constant cycle of repeating the same patterns over...and over...and over. Usually we react to things (interactions, decisions, relationships, challenges) in one of two ways: we either shy away from it, tune it out ("I can't do it") or we try to conquer it--muscle through, take control, assert our power. This is our default. Think about your tendency: How do you typically react when something unexpected arises, when your buttons get pushed or something triggers you? What are your patterns in relationships, in your career, in your social sphere? If you are having trouble thinking of something, look no further than your family. The holidays are right around the corner, and a lot of us will be spending time with family members we don't see very often. For me, when I go home to visit my family, it is the shiniest mirror I could possibly imagine reflecting back all the things I may the day before thought I had all figured out and squared away. I see my life through a certain lens; I imagine myself a certain way, until I go home and suddenly I'm 17 again and playing out all the old samskaras with my sister, and I'm thinking, what the hell just happened? This isn't how I want to be.

Now imagine a particularly challenging yoga pose, one that causes you to cringe every time your teacher announces it. What is your default here? I'm willing to wager that how you react to a difficult pose translates exactly to how you react to struggle in your day-to-day life.

So how do we shift the default? Just like anything else in life, with practice. This change won't happen overnight; just as our physical bodies on our mats get stronger with consistent asana practice, and those challenging poses begin to open up for us, so does the practice of shifting out default get stronger over time to the point where the practice doesn't fade away the minute you roll up your yoga mat, but is carried with you into the 'real world' as well.

A consistent yoga practice is a call to the highest: can we practice in such a way that every movement, action, thought, and expression begins to move into alignment with our highest nature? By learning to approach challenges on the mat with a sense of curiosity, rather than aversion or assertion, we are more able to work with life's curve-balls instead of being constantly mowed down or blindsided by them.

Ramakrishna said, "The winds of grace are always blowing; it is for us to raise the sails." By opening to the winds of grace, we begin to have more and more of those fantastic "A HA!" moments and it becomes more and more easy to catch ourselves falling into old patterns and snap out of our defaults with greater ease. And the world in turn starts to turn every day a bit rosier.