A Little Change'll Do Ya Good

All of the sudden, everyone is moving.  To Philly.  To San Fran.  To Boulder.  To Washington.  To Santa Fe.  Back to Boston.  Within the last few weeks, I've heard both expected and surprise announcements along this line more than I think I ever have in my entire life.  I wonder -- is this an astrological phenomenon?  What is making everyone suddenly throw lives into boxes and jettison across state lines?  Most people are making these geographical changes for work-related reasons (or their significant other's work-related reason).  But whatever the cause, all this wanderlust has stirred a bit of that within me, too -- where would I go if I were to go?  Where would I want to go -- and do I want to go?  I've lived in Somerville, Massachusetts for almost thirteen years and am deeply in love with this place and the people and events that have shaped my life over this decade-plus.  But could I love somewhere else -- is it worth considering?

The answer is, of course, yes.  I could love many other places, people, and things.  Other horizons will always beckon with the promise of valuable life lessons and opportunities to deepen my own sense of purpose on the planet.  And some day I will likely leave this place to find out more about what this life has to offer me -- and me it.  But what strikes me even more profoundly in this exact moment is how simple switches in my current life could be more significant than saying sayonara to Union Square hailing a cab for Timbuktu.

I have been practicing yoga regularly (almost daily) since the beginning of 2008.  There have been, of course, exceptions to this rule -- periods of time when my practice wasn't as regular, the longest stretch being maybe four or five months at the start of 2011 when my work and social life prevented me from making it to my favorite studio's class times.  During this woeful era, I was also dealing with the fallout of the worst breakup I've ever experienced as well as a difficult living situation and I truly felt like everything was unravelling.  It was actually because of an especially passive-aggressive trick played by my extremely immature roommate that I found my way out of the fog -- instead of getting mad at him for what he did, I felt, instead, that it would be more productive for me to wish him well than perpetuate his angry cycle.  "I'm not a religious person, but I'll pray for you," I thought.  It's not a huge surprise that shortly before this realization, I had thrown the emergency brake on my life and set some hard and fast rules for myself:  yoga at least three days a week, no exceptions.  This change also allowed me to find some forgiveness in my heart to heal the breakup wounds and even reconnect with that individual, rebuilding our friendship one brick at a time.  I didn't need to change my geography to get a fresh start -- I needed to change my thinking, my approach to familiar problems, and I needed to stick to this new plan of action with both kind and serious intention.  The result was I emerged from that very dark time in my life triumphant, returned to love, returned to writing, returned to my yoga practice.  And the next twelve months proved to be the most transformative of my entire life:  I self-published my first of many books, I did yoga teacher training, and I accidentally fell right into the perfect job.  The pieces of myself that I'd lost came back stronger than ever.  And the only change I'd made was a mental one.

Three years later, I am still gleaning lessons from that time in my life, that time that proved that if you're going through hell, you really should just keep going.  But the part Winston Churchill left out of that famous quotation is that you get out of hell by breaking the cycle, taking a different path, changing direction.  As corny as it may sound, thinking positive thoughts instead of negative ones saved my life and restored my sense of self.  I live my life with as much honesty and integrity as I can muster because I know first hand how short life can be and how much it matters to be good to the people you love.  

That said, I still have a lot to learn and am constantly listening to the lessons of the universe.  There is so much out there -- how can one lifetime be enough even to dream of learning it all?  The one thing I know for sure, though, is big change can happen with small gestures -- it doesn't have to be anything dramatic or huge -- your entire life doesn't need to be packed up in order for you to get the closure or renewal or surge of strength you desire.  Everything has a root and you can only effect real change when you find that source.  It's probably right under your nose.  I bet you barely need to leave your house to uncover it.  All you really need to do is be open, focused, and willing to listen.  Oh, and breathe.  Always breathe.  You may be surprised how tangible the solution is.  Maybe it's as simple as getting on your yoga mat or laying in the grass for ten minutes.  Maybe it's writing a letter or looking that significant someone in the eyes.  Maybe you just need to string together a few nights of decent sleep.  Definitely default to honesty and the rest will take care of itself.

And in case you were wondering, no, I am not such an enlightened being that my life is now perfect because I re-dedicated myself to yoga.  Far from it.  But the point is I learned the importance of being places where I was safe, loved, happy, calm, and respected.  I learned what that feels like and how to achieve it and how not to settle for any less.  So even now when I run into dead ends or hard times, I am equipped to move ahead steadily and with intention, sure that even if it doesn't turn out exactly as I hope, it will turn out exactly as it should.  I've learned what questions to ask out loud and to myself and how to determine what the acceptable answers might be -- and what to do if they're not to my standards.  And I've learned to be flexible with my standards and kind to myself and others, to see others in as many dimensions as they'll allow.  I try.  That's the best any of us can really do.

But, seriously, do yoga at least three days a week.  OK?  OK.

Namaste.

Yoga Body

As a manager in a yoga studio, I spend a good portion of my time talking to nervous first time practitioners.  I'm not strong enough.  I'm too out of shape.  I don't look like everyone else in their tight Lululemon pants.  I'm not flexible.  I am afraid of making a fool of myself.  To all of these people, I say the same thing:  "If you can move and breathe at the same time, you can practice yoga here."  The style of yoga we teach is Astanga-based so it's full of vinyasas and tends to be on the rigorous side and, yes, there will be things that beginners might not be able to do in their first (through twentieth) class.  Same goes to intermediate and advanced level students.  But that's not the point of yoga -- doing that arm balance or coming up into headstand or mastering a Sun B isn't what makes the practice.  It's the practice that makes it perfect.  It's the effort, the concentration, the intention.  In many ways, it's like having a good attitude instead of a bad one.  So maybe your heels don't reach the ground in downward facing dog.  Who cares?  Mine don't, not even after seven years of almost daily practice.  My calves are tight and so those heels will probably never flatten against my mat in that pose.  It doesn't stop me from getting on my mat.  I get on my mat, step one, to be in the moment, to achieve what I can in this singular class.  Yes, I can move and breathe at the same time -- I can do yoga.

I was chatting with a few of the teachers at the studio over the weekend about this month's concentrated focus:  prop usage.  Both of these teachers "look" like yoga teachers and practice with very few need for modification, unless they're injured.  I was explaining to them that props month was going to be a good one for many of our students, especially the ones who thought using props made their practice more remedial or elementary -- like they weren't really doing the practice if they "gave in" and used blocks or straps.  But, really, props are there to make certain postures safer on the joints and more accessible to people with physical limitations.  Using blocks and straps can actually make the practice far more beneficial for people who tend to hyper extend elbows or knees as well as people with tight calves or hamstrings (like me!).  It actually took me finally understanding when and how to use these props -- and being comfortable with this knowledge -- to get me out of the land of basics (where I lived like a queen for many, ahem, years) and into the very scary land of Power -- doesn't it just sound intimidating?  For me, it really was.  I mean...  My heels don't reach the mat in down dog, one of the most basic postures of all.  How could I ever think I was ready for something like power yoga?

It took comfort level with the props and lots of gentle encouragement from my trusted teachers (thank you Katherine, thank you Ann, thank you Mimi) to make that big step up to the class level I should have attempted more than a year or two prior.  I was just nervous -- who could blame me?  I still needed to use blocks in half moon -- just like everyone in basics does.  That must make me a basics kind of yogi, no matter how many years I had under my belt.

Of course, the answer to that is no, using blocks in half moon does not classify me as a basics bum for the rest of my yogic life.  It means that I have the knowledge of both the practice and my practice to prop those blocks up when I need them without worrying that doing so makes me less of a yogini than the person practicing next to me.  Because of this, I try to expand my answer of "When should I move on to intermediate and power?" from simply, "When you know how to do a Sun A" to "When you know how to do a Sun A and you know when and how to use props."  Truthfully, students advance at much different rates and there's no predicting what things impact the decision of when to move up in class level -- it's a very personal decision.  

For people like me, it was a big deal.  I am a perfectionist.  I didn't want to make a fool of myself or be the one person in the room who couldn't do the advanced posture -- the one everyone was talking about after class and rolling their eyes like, "What's that moron doing in here?"  I wanted to ace everything in basics before I allowed myself to graduate.  But the longer I stayed in basics, the more I realized there were some things I would never be able to do because of certain physical limitations and even though I learned to be OK with that and attempt power anyway, sometimes I do sit on my mat before class and look around at the other students, many of whom I know quite well, and I have a quiet laugh because I do not have a "yoga body."  I am not waif-like or stick thin or long-limbed.  I have never worn anything size extra small in my entire life and I have never skipped putting on my bra because, oh, I just don't really need it.  I often joke that I can't do certain arm balances because my boobs are simply too big and they get in the way and as silly as that might sound, it's pretty legitimate.  They are in the way.  Other poses are next to impossible because of my excessively tight calves (even physiology guru Mimi shakes her head and says, "You, those calves, I just can't figure it out"), making even the simplest forward folds the most challenging poses in the sequence.  It's not unusual for me to be the only student in the room who can't get certain binds (especially side angle or bird of paradise-esque stuff) and I won't be the one doing the "fancy" Astanga exit out of pretty much anything ever.  My body doesn't bend that way and it most likely never will -- not even if I practiced for two hours a day every single day (which would likely wreck my joints from overuse anyway).  And you know what?  None of that matters.  It took being dedicated to the practice and its myriad benefits for years to realize that even simply getting on my mat and moving with the breath made the practice worthwhile.  Being the "flawless yogini" wasn't my goal anymore.  Being the "diligent yogini" became the defining thing for me.

I have the body I have -- curvy and awesome -- and I accept me for who I am and what I can do and be both on and off my mat.  My time on my mat has proven to be one of the greatest teachers of my life and a friend I will never ever lose, no matter what.  Tight calves, woefully shallow forward folds, constantly bent knees, heels off the ground in down dog, unmastered arm balances, binds that will never be -- I thank you for teaching me, too.  We achieve so much more through things that are challenging than things that come easily, so I am thankful that I made myself mentally move past my limitations and, instead, find ways to work with them and still feel rewarded by my practice.  I guess when all of that is factored in, I actually do have a yoga body.  I get on my mat and I move and breathe at the same time and I am a better person for it.

What's Your Favorite Chakra?

Last night, I was at a potluck dinner hosted weekly by some yoga friends of mine.  Not long after my arrival, one of my friends pointed out my nail polish (mostly orange with two fingers done in black, partly for the proximity to Halloween and partly in support of the Detroit Tigers who had just lost in the American League Championship Series to the Boston Red Sox) and then to her boyfriend's nails which were also painted in a wide variety of colors.  I joked that when I selected nail color, especially for pedicures which I routinely get once a month during the summer months, I liked to pick the color that best represents which chakra I'm most focused on at the time.  Another yogi in the circle piped in, "The chakras have colors??" which launched the rest of us into a miniature tizzy.  Do the chakras have colors?  What yogi doesn't know about this?

Of course, it's perfectly reasonable for even the most dedicated yogi to know next to nothing about the chakra system.  It goes beyond the scope of the asana practice and is rooted more deeply in the meditative or philosophical considerations of a yogic lifestyle.  "Well, then, what does my favorite color say about me?" asked the man with the multicolored nails.  He found three yoginis staring back at him.  "Well, it could mean everything," I said with a wink.

Chakras are believed to be energetic centers in the body that correlate with different levels and states of being en route to enlightenment and work together to create your overall aura.  Traveling from the base of the spine up through the crown of the head, these seven stopping points work like a prism with the root lock being associated with the color red up through violet at the crown of your head.  Each chakra represents a different step along the road to self-realization, which is the ultimate goal of a strong, meditative practice.  If your chakras are in order, you can achieve your highest possible level of personal satisfaction -- when they're out of wack, that's when you feel "off" or unsettled.  Traditionally, it is thought that the journey is an upward one -- if your root chakra is balanced, then you can work on your spleen and so on and so forth.  And as one of the yoginis pointed out last night, if your throat chakra (your communication center) feels off, it may be best suited to work on your heart chakra which is directly beneath it as a way of fueling energy upward to balance what has gone awry.  

All of this is fancy talk, I know.  And it, like most everything, is to be taken with a grain of salt. I am tongue and cheek when I say I pick my nail color to help me work on or emphasize a specific chakra.  But I also do sometimes honestly make what would otherwise by an arbitrary selection that way.  Right now, my nails are black and orange for festive reasons, but this summer I specifically painted my nails green when I wanted to focus on my heart chakra and I own multiple shades of purple to use when I'm in need of some enlightenment.  Plus, I just like having my nails done and it can make for an interesting conversation topic if it ties into something potentially wack-a-doo like the chakra system.

For those of you who are less familiar with all of this, let me break down the basics: 

 Root (or Base) – Muladhara – Red

• Base of the spine
• Survival, the right to exist.  Vitality, grounding reality, stability, sexuality, courage, impulsiveness.  Deals with tasks related to the physical world.  Ability to stand up for one’s self and security issues
• The Root chakra is your main power station and it is connected to your physical vitality and endurance, mental perseverance and it is the center that gives you your life’s passion. The root center is also your connection to your existence

Spleen – Svadisthana -- Orange

• Below navel/lower navel
• Feelings/the right to feel.  Connected to our sensing abilities and issues related to feelings.  Ability to be social.  Intimacy issues.  Procreation, sensuality, confidence, freedom.
• The Spleen chakra is your sensing power station, connecting you to your feeling sensitivities. It is the center that allows you to live consciously, in the "now." The spleen center is also the link to your enthusiasm, happiness and joy—your inner-child.

Solar Plexus – Manipura – Yellow

• Above navel/stomach area
• Personal power/right to think.  Balance of intellect, self-confidence and ego power.  Ability to have self-control and a sense of humor. Mental clarity, optimism, curiosity.
• The Yellow chakra is your mental awareness, which connects you to your mind power. It is the center that governs your ability to learn and comprehend. The solar plexus center is known to govern your ego and your will power. It is the sun center that emits optimism and confidence. 

Heart – Anahata – Green

• Center of the chest
• Relationships – the right to love.  Love, forgiveness, compassion.  Ability to have self-control.  Acceptance of one’s self.  Harmony, peace, renewal, and growth.
• The Green chakra is your heart power station, connecting you to your emotions. It is the center that allows you to love and give unconditionally. The heart center governs your relationships. It is the energy center that integrates one's physical reality to one's spiritual connection.

Throat – Visuddha – Blue

• Throat
• Relationships.  The right to speak.  Learning to express one’s self and one’s beliefs ( truthful expression).  Ability to trust.  Loyalty.  Organization and planning.  Creativity, expression.
• The Blue chakra is your communication power station. It is the center that handles incoming and outgoing messages. It is through this center that we voice our opinions and our truths.

 Brow or Third Eye – Anja – Indigo

• Forehead/between the eyes
• Intuition.  The right to “see.”  Trusting one’s intuitions and insights.  Developing one’s psychic abilities.  Self-realization.  Releasing hidden and repressed negative thoughts.
• The Indigo chakra is your intuitive intelligence. It is the center that taps into the universal consciousness. Through the third-eye you can see things from a psychic potential.

 Crown – Sahasrara – Violet

• Top of the head
• Knowingness.  The right to aspire.  Charisma.  Dedication to the divine consciousness and trusting the universe.  Learning about one’s spirituality.  Our connection to “God” or a higher intelligence.  Integrating consciousness and unconsciousness into superconsciousness.
• The Violet chakra is your spiritual connection. This chakra links you to the cosmos so you can reach your higher potential. It is the energy of knowingness and enlightenment.

Try this guided Chakra Meditation:

Dedication Yoga-to-Go

So, yes, maybe your favorite color does have something to say about you.  Look at what that color's energy represents and see if it doesn't tie into something you are exceptionally strong in or have a particular relationship with.  Let's use me as an example, shall we?  My favorite colors are Green, Yellow, Orange, and Blue in that order.

GREEN = THE HEART

This is love.  This is belonging.  This is what is unconditional.  This is what gives us peace and strength of mind.  Green attracts me, it stands out.  I gravitate towards this color in pretty much every shade it comes in.  As a counterpoint, my eyes are hazel and mostly appear green, so it's a color I look good wearing as well.  I find it interesting that "geniuses pick green" as their favorite color more often than any other (this is true and not just a line from Meet the Parents) given that its strong tie is something so emotionally and intuitively based.  You can't measure or quantify love -- it's elusive and strange and so often out of our immediate control.  The heart wants what the heart wants, right?  It's no wonder it's the color of jealousy as well!  We use our other senses to add a measure of sanity or realism to some of the heart's odd or unattainable requests, but sometimes even that best outcome is to quiet the noise of our heartbeat.  Nothing is more important to me than love (sharing it, finding it, keeping it) and the community, commitment, family, and sense of belonging that is built with that.  This is also an area where, admittedly, I struggle.  But I try and I want and I give and I do my best to receive -- which, for me, is actually the most difficult part.  Green is my favorite color and its chakra tie is, no pun intended, near and dear to my heart.

YELLOW = THOUGHT

This is what it means to have an opinion.  This is what it means to consider the consequences.  This is what it means to be an active thinker and a learner.  I am a lifelong student who misses the structure of a curriculum and a classroom but who still finds ways and means to further expand my knowledge base.  My best friends are people who are intelligent and interested in debates and discussions about everything from nuclear physics to the writing of Gabriel Garcia Marquez to classic rock to baseball to online dating and beyond.  I want my opinions to be challenged almost as much as I want my challenges to other's opinions to be heard and considered without outright dismissal.  Intelligence is hungry for this -- I am hungry for it, too.  Yellow is the color of the sun, of warmth, of a new day -- yellow is the color of an awake mind and its symbolism is one I incorporate into my daily life.

ORANGE = FEELINGS

This is a chakra tied into awakenings.  It's the reproductive center -- it's your core desire.  It's where you come into your own.  It's more base than, say, the heart chakra because it's less intellectual and more gut-level, but achieving balance here only heightens the productivity of the green chakra once the orange one has been stabilized.  Like most of the chakras, it works in tandem with the others the same way that taking Algebra I will better inform you to be prepared for Algebra II then if you'd skipped the introduction.  This is another color I wear well, so people tell me, and it's an endearing favorite of mine because my younger brother loves it, though he pronounces it "oranch."  Finding security in the orange chakra is a necessary evil since we are here to reproduce but our ultimate knowledge of what that means can be stunting.  If I have been jilted in the past or taught not to trust because my emotions were disregarded or trivialized, then it makes forming partnerships anywhere from difficult to nearly impossible.  If I have been shown a great deal of respect and trust and empowerment by those trying to establish a meaningful connection with me, then that is, in the absence of a straight up betrayal, an unbreakable bond.  This is Freud's playground, right here.  If he were around to comment, I'm certain he'd say there was no other color but orange -- none that mattered, anyway.  

And finally -- BLUE = VOICE

Being heard.  Being understood.  Being recognized as a thinking person with a viewpoint.  This is the throat chakra.  As a writer, it is understandable (and likely goes without saying) how important this one is.  Interestingly, from an astrological standpoint, I am diagnosed as being someone who is frequently misunderstood because my mode of communication is, well, quirky.  I am prone to rambling.  Even worse, I am prone to rambling metaphors.  I know what I mean and am easily frustrated by people who don't and overly endeared by those who always understand right away.  There are a handful of people who get me and for them I am very grateful.  Maybe this is why I write, also -- it's easier to be editorial and succinct and articulate with an eraser in hand, less so when speaking out loud in a series of nonsequitors that totally fire and connect in my brain but are often confusing for people who are "new" -- and even some who've been around a long time.  I see complicated connections everywhere that enhance the meaning of a situation to me and sometimes that's lost in the translation when I try and communicate such information to others.  I actively work on thinking before I speak, or at the very least finishing one metaphor before I roll over into another one.  Hey, all I can do is try, right?

Of course, I could associate parts of myself with all of the points and their corresponding colors in the chakra system.  All of you, could, too.  So maybe it's not any more important then your astrological sign, but it's something to consider.  Why not?  Worst case scenario, you'll achieve nirvana.

Read Hell-Bent by Benjamin Lorr

I have never done hot yoga.  The style I teach and practice is intended for a "comfortably warm" space -- maybe 80-degrees.  The idea is the practioner should generate an internal heat through controlled breath work and intentional movement as opposed to entering a room already cranked to 100-degrees and assuming an exaggerated sense of flexibility that could lead to injury.  Makes perfect sense to me.  Plus, an 80-degree room is plenty warm for exercise, can't we all agree?

A lot of people don't agree.  Hot yoga is an exceptionally popular mode for practice, Bikram Yoga being one of the most preferred.  I had heard of Bikram in a vague sense when it was first becoming really trendy and was shocked to learn on a Today Show news segment one early morning that Bikram was, like, a dude.  There he was, on my television.  Jovial and boisterous and beyond any reasonable level of pretentious, obnoxious, and arrogant.  This guy "invented" a style of yoga?  Isn't yoga supposed to be about the opposite of pretentious, obnoxious, and arrogant?  Isn't it supposed to be about simplicity and quiet personal growth?  Isn't it supposed to be about expanding your mind, not expanding your vintage car collection or your number of diamond studded watches?  Who is Bikram Choudhury and where does he get off?  But the journalist, Jenna Wolfe, seemed charmed by him and also declared herself a believer in his school of thought.  I watched this interview and thought, "I would never do this man's practice -- he goes against everything I believe to be beneficial about yoga."  It's like believing profoundly in God only to go to church to find the minister staring greedily at the congregation while holding his hand out for an offering. 

((See it here:  Jenna Wolfe interviews Bikram Choudhury))

I hadn't thought much about Bikram or his yoga since seeing that interview and, in the meantime, continued to devote myself to my own practice, including doing teacher training last spring.  For me, yoga is a way to slow down life, to make myself take a moment to breathe, and to see how much (or how little) I have changed from one day to the next.  It has taught me to be comfortable in my own skin.  So I can't do peacock or put my foot behind my head -- who cares?  I work with modifications or props -- I take myself to my own depth and that's all that matters. 

Recently, some of my yoga friends have started talking about a book -- a book I must read.  It became a topic of conversation at a recent teacher training reunion party where a few of the women were in the midst of this page-turner -- Hell-Bent by Benjamin Lorr.  A nonfiction account about Bikram, his yoga, his teacher training, and his pursuit of making yoga an Olympic sport.  My curiosity got the better of me and I added this book to my Kindle the next day.

Ladies, you were right -- I couldn't put it down.

Lorr talks about his own path to Bikram that started with a general malaise in life that lead to him becoming lazy and overweight and somehow landed him in one of Bikram's self-declared Torture Chambers (his term for the rooms where his trademarked classes take place -- how very yogic).  The yoga was impossible at first but strangely very addictive and before Lorr knew it, he was a Bikram junkie, attending class every day, sometimes multiple classes per day, and escalating his devotion to two-week intensive backbending "retreats" with other diehards and eventually doing the nine-week/$11,000 teacher training as well as a trip to Nationals.  Lorr's book includes other narratives similar to his own -- extreme personalities (Type A's, addictive/obsessive personalities, anorexics, drug addicts, etc) who devoted their lives to Bikram Yoga, many of them claiming the practice healed them from illness and/or injury and gave them the proverbial new lease on life they'd all so desperately needed.  Desperation is a common theme in this community, it seems.  People who need need need something to fill them.  Bikram Yoga and its 26 prescribed postures occupies the void -- it fills them -- even if it hurts like hell.

This passage from Hell-Bent recounts Lorr's first time with the Backbenders, an official/unofficial group of extreme Bikram practioners.  The speaker here isn't Bikram but his wife's son Esak Garcia, once instrumental in the Bikram community but later ostracized for seemingly no reason -- a never-ending story within the confines of this world.  Here, Esak is parroting what many of the senior Bikram teachers say on the founder's behalf.  This style of yoga asks students to embrace pain, not back away from it.  Clearly, there are dangers in this.  Pain exists for a reason -- it's a warning from your body.  It's asking you not to go further -- it's implying danger.  Pushing yourself to your limit is one thing -- ignoring those limits is another ballgame all together.

And for a yoga that claims to be so healing, it comes with quite a laundry list of problematic ailments.

Of course, the section on teacher training dropped my jaw the most.  The entire event seemed to be designed to torture and humiliate, very nearly turning some people into drones or, worse, animals struggling to survive.  And for what?  To memorize a 45-page script written by a man who taught class from a throne on a stage.  Insanity, what?  Lorr tells stories about the fickle nature of Bikram that astounded me in this section.  One of the most memorable is a man who completed the entire nine weeks only to be called up to Bikram's suite the day before graduation and told he would not be graduating because this man had taken classes in a studio Bikram felt had tried to rip off his trademarked practice.  And even though this man wasn't a regular student there and had no intention of working for or with this studio, Bikram still refused to let the man graduate and refused to give him back his money, adding that he had known since Day One that he would never allow this man to become one of his instructors on account of this "transgression."  

And then, of course, there are the women...

Bikram is currently being sued for sexual harassment.  The book details lots of examples of women being objectified and disrespected by this man who they (at least once) worshiped and adored.  He's a man in power, no different from any other narcissistic person in power who believes sex, money, objects are his for the taking and that the honor belongs to these women he's selected.  Lorr talks about the women who lose the stars from their eyes the moment Bikram lays an unwanted hand on their thighs. 

Maybe even Bikram is bigger than Bikram -- his persona, his myth has taken over and crushed the man who came from India to the United States at the age of 28 and offered free classes until Shirley McLane quite famously informed him that Americans "don't respect anything that's free."  Everything after that is Bikram's experiment in being American -- the more expensive it is, the more people will want it because it will seem luxurious.

"Inhale, and God approaches you. Hold the inhalation, and God remains with you. 

Exhale, and you approach God. Hold the exhalation, and surrender to God."

~ Sri T. Krishnamacharya

To me, this is where yoga is at its purest -- just breathing -- just focusing on what is internal and allowing it push into the external.  Bikram Yoga seems, at its most base, to want the same thing -- but as an industry, it feels counterproductive to me -- it feels like a greedy church who loves its parishioners for their deep pockets, not their deep faith in God.  

Lorr's book is fascinating and will surely grip the attention of those who practice and those who don't because it's not a book about yoga -- it's a book about a sociopath and his followers.  Read it -- get bent.

Keeping It Simple

My friend Maggie came up to me at the end of Ann's stellar Intermediate class at O2 Yoga last night and said, "Can I tell you something awesome?  I did Revolved Triangle for the first time tonight."  Immediately, a grin took over my face and I high fived her.  I don't know that I will ever do Revolved Triangle with square hips let alone without props, so I appreciate how exciting it must be to get into that difficult pose.  Maggie teased about it being a "dear diary" moment, but, truthfully, it is one.  Part of the joy of yoga is achieving these milestones and no matter how experienced you are, there is always something to work towards.  Every time you roll out your mat, your practice will feel different and that's a pretty exciting thing.  

On days I can't make it into the studio to practice, I like to step onto my mat at home and do my own thing.  One of the simplest ways to build heat quickly and feel like I've really gotten a swift but solid practice in is to do five Sun Saluation A's and five Sun Salutation B's.  This is the way the warm up for the Primary Series of Astanga begins, though it's arguably a pretty well-rounded practice on its own.  I made an audio recording cuing the practice to share with all of you.  I can also send you an mp3 if you'd prefer.  Just email me at dedicationyoga@gmail.com :)

Keep it simple.  After all, any time on your mat is time well spent!

Resolution

It's that time of year when we feel a sense of winding down.  One calendar ends and we anticipate, often with a sense of relief, the start of something new.  But really, isn't it just a new calendar -- out with that old and in with that new?  Is there really such a shift from December 31st to January 1st?  What has actually changed?  What is actually beginning?  Why is this new month so much more significant than the start of any other month?  We celebrate the fading of one year and the start of a new one -- it's the pinnacle of the rushed and feverish holiday season.  New Year's Eve is the star on top of the annual tree.  We close our eyes and count down the seconds until it's New Year's Day.  Let us begin again.

I am a big believer in reflection.  It's important to take stock of where we are now in comparison to where we have come from or where we might go next.  But as I have learned from yoga, nothing much matters besides now.  Learn from the past, yes, and use it to project a bright future, but if I'm not cherishing this moment, what's the point?  Human beings are actually quite fond of this question -- what is the point?  Why are we all here, what's the meaning of any of this?  This is part of the reason we become obsessed with history and the boomerang effect of the future.  And when it comes to the start of a new year, we humans love nothing more than to stop, really stop, and decide that we're going to resolve to change each and every unfortunate behavior or fix every broken run in our figurative ladders by declaring that, starting January 1st, we will do x, y, and z differently.  We will eat better, work out more, finish a project, reach a goal, etc.  As someone who regularly practices yoga four to seven days any given week, there is absolutely no more annoying time of year to get on my mat than the first two or three weeks in January when classes become overrun with people who have added "Try yoga" to their list of New Year's To Do list.  I breath a sigh of relief when February rolls around and class sizes become more manageable and are comprised of people who are there to practice because it's what they do, not what they think they should be doing.  

I've never been a big fan of New Year's Resolutions because they are almost assuredly going to fade into a forgotten sphere until the anxiety of another new calendar rears its ugly head during the next holiday season.  What about the meantime?  What about all of those wasted months when we don't eat well or exercise or work towards goals?  What about those months when newly purchased yoga mats stay rolled up and ignored?  Isn't it better to decide to do things because you want to do them, not because there's a social cue for you to declare you're making a change?

All that said, I did actually make a New Year's Resolution in 2011 to write every day, a goal that I achieved and then re-set for 2012 and again for 2013.  But writing is also something I have a strong passion for and a long history of doing so using the start of a new calendar gave each of these blog projects a framework and an easy accountability.  Did I write today?  Well, check and see.  Would I have been as successful doing this project without the internet and Facebook and Blogger to aid me?  I honestly don't know.  But I am a woman of my word, so when I say I will do something, I do it.  This, I resolve.  Maybe New Year's Resolutions work like this for other people, too.  But most people I know make their list, check it twice, and forget about it in less than a fortnight.

Yes, 2012 is ending, but it's simply a benchmark in a long and hilly timeline.  Make resolutions if they help you refine your ideal self for the coming year, but think about this, also:  resolve to be your best self in every moment that's to come.  It's a lofty goal and it might not be possible, but the higher you aim, the more likely you'll be to succeed.  That might even mean I'll see you roll out your mat next to mine for the first few weeks in January and then disappear until 2014, and that's OK as long as you take the time to appreciate the efforts you make every day to achieve your fullest expression of every pose, both on and off your mat.

Yoga Weather

Dedication Yoga's weekly class on Prospect Hill in Somerville, MA has been suspended for the long, cold New England winter for the obvious reason -- this is a heat-building practice, yes, but the atmosphere in which we practice has to be accommodating.  I miss my time outside with all of my dedicated yogis, many of whom had near-perfect attendance all summer.  I wonder what they're doing now -- if they've found a place to practice indoors.  Because, in all honesty, this brisk chill and early nightfall makes for perfect yoga weather.  Just think of it -- dimly lit studio, heat cranked to 80-degrees, skilled teacher leading a room full of practioners through a sweaty sequence.  I love my evenings on the mat and I make my practice happen nearly seven days a week.  What else would I rather be doing?  I always make the time for this.

It's especially easy for me to do because I work for a yoga studio, the very same where I did my teacher training last spring, so I spend a lot of my time in that environment.  How did I ever get so lucky?  And while I do not teach at this studio, I do still treat it as an education -- a way to learn about my practice and learn from it, too.  I love being a student -- I always have -- but I love it even more now that I have the background in teaching.  It adds a creative layer, a new perspective, a way to see things in a fresh way.  Yoga keeps my learning active and I want to participate in every class.  It's a wonderful thing.