Love the Present

Looks can be deceiving. Today, while it appeared that I was simply walking to my afternoon yoga class along Amsterdam avenue, I was in fact in arround twelve different venues far away from my earthly body.  I was in Sedona, Arizona with my boyfriend, trying to figure out flight schedules, while I was at my computer dealing with bills, while I was back at work dealing with a student's knee replacement and how to accommodate her, while I was in Costa Rica...just because.     So, vrittis (fluctuations of the mind, also known as, thoughts!) flying, I was stopped short by this window display at Banana Republic, and just cracked up.

Love the Present.   I do find it slightly ironic to have a sign that says "Love the Present" with mannequins holding gift-wrapped boxes advertising Christmas a week before Thanksgiving even happens, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.  Sometimes, it feels like the universe just sends messages when you least expect and most need them.  

And this is why we do yoga. Sutra 1.2 - 3 says, "we do yoga to calm the mind down so we can get to know our true selves."  While people come into yoga for a multitude of reasons (to get in shape, get flexible, because their girlfriends do it, etc.) if you stick around long enough, chances are you will find the amazing side effect that is the original intent: the ability to be exactly where your feet are, for however long you can be.  For me, this used to be for just a moment at a time, even during class. These days, most of my class time is spent exactly where I am, working to find the most elegant alignment in my body. (Of course, I slip out of it, and will occasionally have a teacher chortle, "Kat!  Your feet are doing ballet while your arms are doing yoga!" or the like)  And even more often, I am becoming aware of when my mind does slip away, and I am starting to be able to bring myself back to where I am. 

In reality, the present moment is all we have (as we know.) The past is gone and the future doesn't exist. The most important moment in the universe is this moment. And this moment. And this moment. 

What actions can we do today to help ourselves stay in the present?  There are so many tools, and yoga isn't the only one by a long shot. For some people, it's running, knitting, or dancing.  For some people, it's just finding a quiet corner to sit and breathe.  Today, for me, it's taking a moment to be grateful for exactly where I am and what I have at that moment. Right now, at this instant, I am sitting on a warm bed in a lovely room with everything I need and most of what I want. I have quiet, and peace, and love.  What else could I ask for?

A few tools to ground yourself in the present:

1) Stand in tadasana (mountain pose.)  Standing with your feet together or slightly apart, lift your toes up to ground your feet down.  Press back through the thighs while you rotate your buttocks towards your heels. Feel the energy from the earth coming up through your legs and spreading through your body. Spread your palms on your thighs. Breathe.

2)  Scrape a stainless steel spoon on the bottom of your feet. Sounds weird, but it works.

3) Touch something natural and connected to the earth, such as a tree trunk.  Place both hands on it and connect to that energy. 

4) Make a list of ten things you are grateful for in that moment.  

5) Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

What do you do to bring yourself back to the present? Feel free to comment below. 

Upanishads and Private yoga

There is a wealth of yoga philosophy that I find totally fascinating and highly recommend reading.  I will go into more detail in a later post of particular recommendations of editions and translations, but Patanjali's sutras, the Bhagavad Gita, and the Upanishads all have one thing in common - they were originally passed down from master to student orally, and individually.  In fact, Upanishad is literally translated as "Sitting down near"which basically means, "sit down and I'll tell you a story about how to live your life. Or how you could live your life.  Or about cheese."(I'm actually not joking about the cheese - read Satchidananda's translation of the Sutras and you'll know what I mean.) 

Cool lookin' guy, right?

As yoga was meant to be taught intimately from teacher to student, it's interesting to see how far away we are from that in the yoga industry.  In the business side of yoga, classes ideally have 20 or more students to be lucrative to the teacher and the studio.  Don't get me wrong - I love the community aspect of a large class taught by a wonderful teacher - there is a feeling of "all for one and one for all" as well as the inspiration of seeing someone else's asana and learning from others.  However, as my teachers always say, "what do you gain, and what do you loose?"  While you gain a significant amount of excitement and strength from a group asana practice, you definitely lose the personal care and and consideration that comes from a private teacher.


While yes, I do know that I am a private yoga teacher so this may sound like a pitch to study with me (hey, what a great idea!)  I so want to recommend so many other teachers to study with, as well. For example, I study with Laurel Beversdorf, a YogaWorks teacher trainer, who has totally shifted my practice.  While I wish I could study with her regularly, whenever I can have a lesson with her, it is always amazing - she is an utterly brilliant teacher with a keen eye for and understanding of alignment and musculature, which is essential for me. Juliana Mitchell is another wonderful New York based teacher - incredibly wise, warm and knows exactly how to challenge you according to your needs.


Who are your favorite teachers, and what do you think about private yoga lessons versus public classes?


Share your thoughts below, if you would, and have a beautiful day!


Keep practicing!


Kat

Virya - Absolute enthusiasm

On a yoga retreat led by Jennifer Pastiloff, assisting a fellow student in adho mukra vrksasana!

Ok, here’s a few useful pieces of information about me.  (I gotta say, it’s so strange to be writing to readers who don’t yet exist.  However, I’m choosing to look at blogging from a yogic perspective.  Ishvara pranidhana, which means “letting go into the creative source from which we’ve emerged” I interpret to mean, do the work for works sake, and let go of the results.)  So, here we go, entering the blogosphere, for no other reason than to enter the blogosphere.

Ok, useful pieces of information. Just in case.

1)    I am pretty much obsessed with yoga. I talk about it, live it, breathe it, and of course do it pretty constantly.  Please note, however, when I say “yoga” I don’t mean, “I am obsessed with getting the bottom of my foot to touch my head, effectively turning myself into a human pretzel.”  No, I mean yoga in the larger sense. Yoga as life, yoga as a philosophy, yoga as a way to practice humanity.  And if eventually the bottom of my foot touches my head, that would be ok as well. Just sayin’.

2)    I love to discover new ______’s, and share them. The ______ May be bands (which are sometimes actually new, and more often are “new to me”) yoga classes, lipsticks, restaurants, etc.  But I get really excited when I find something, and yes, I’m one of those people who has to tell everyone I’ve met about what I’ve discovered. And apparently, those I haven't met. 

3)    I am utterly incapable of taking myself too seriously during asana (physical) practice.  Thank Goodness for that.  See, I was not born a flexy-bendy person.  In fact, I seem to have been born with an invisible straight jacket that prevents me from having true flexibility in my shoulders, hamstrings that are less ham-string and more ham-rocks, and a tailbone with a total mind of it’s own.  I am learning the loveliness of single-pointed focus during an asana practice, but in reality, I practice what my first key teacher, Jennifer Pastiloff cited as a class rule: “If you fall, you laugh. If you don’t laugh, I will make you laugh.”

4)    What I lack in flexibility, I make up for in virya, which is translated as “absolute enthusiasm” or “vital energy.”  I believe in bringing a sense of curiosity and excitement to everything I do, and encouraging my yoga students to do the same.  It’s so refreshing to look at a new experience or challenge with the attitude of “wobbling like an infant learning to walk” rather than the “I’m such a freakin’ idiot that I don’t get this.”  It’s a fun challenge – next time something baffles you, be it at work, home or in a relationship, see if you can shift your attitude from self-denegrating to process-adoring. It’s pretty powerful stuff.

That’s enough for now.  Have a great night and keep practicing!

Kat