Bramacharya: Knowing What's Enough or Non-Excess

I always think of food first when I think of Bramacharya, or non-excess. In the Yama's and Niyamas, Deborah states, "I know firsthand the misery of a too full stomach..As I sit in the heaviness of excess, I find myself once again in disbelief that I have done this to myself...All I can do is suffer and watch how overindulgance has imposed itself on the joy of the moment." (p.76)

We've all been there. I know I have. In fact, I often struggle with eating too much and it is a brilliant metaphor for not knowing when enough is enough in life. I love to eat. I love food. I consider myself to be a "Foodie," whatever that means-perhaps that I am a bit of a food snob or maybe that I like to enjoy well prepared, whole foods. I consider myself a healthy eater, even though I am not currently practicing vegetarianism, canabalism (threw that it for fun to see if you were paying attention!) or any other "ism" for that matter.

So, I am here to admit that there is shadow side to this "Foodie" business for me and it's wrapped in the bloated packaging of excess: cookie dough. Well actually, cookie dough, cookies, cake, and candy (particularly toffee). Distilled a bit more and it really boils down to one thing: SUGAR.

I significantly over eat when it comes to sugar. And cheese. Really sharp cheese. And crusty bread. Alright, I digress, mostly anything that tastes good I have a tendency to over eat!

But hey, we live in a "super-size me" country with super-sized portions and super-sized cars and super-sized closets and super-sized houses. We shop in super-sized warehouses and we, the people, are even becoming super-sized. So what's the BIG deal, you might ask?

Well, Bramacharya has a few things to say about all that. Namely that the mind is capable of turning a simple desire into an emotional attachment which can lead to addiction. When we associate food or drink or shopping with an emotional feeling, our mind can trick us into thinking we "need" to do something or eat something. I experience this everytime I watch a movie on Netflix. I associate the experience with eating popcorn and not just any popcorn, but popcorm smothered in real butter. Yummy!

And that is exactly what I have been watching out for these last few weeks, where I feel like I "need" to do something or eat something in excess. I have found that I am more disposed to slip into a place of excess when I am tired, disconnected, emotional or just plain unconscious, i.e. not awake in the present moment.

Bramacharya asks us to experiment with the principle of "when is enough, enough?" It asks us to look at our lives and how we deaden ourselves through excess. It asks us to experiment with temperance and to ask ourselves how it feels to stop at enough.

This is a beautiful pratice for me, someone who, like a lot of women, turns to food for comfort. I certainly do feel more alive, energized and connected when I allow Bramacharya to flow into my life. Only thing is, the Knife River Candy Store opened today after being closed for a really, really, long, cold, dark winter.

Damn the gods!

"When we get the real nourishment that divine mystery gives, the pretend nourishment of excess becomes less and less interesting to us." -Deborah Adele

Asteya or Non-Stealing: Living with Integrity and Reciprocity

Asteya or non-stealing is the third Yama in yoga's ethical code. Each of us steal in many ways, every day-from each other, the earth, ourselves and from the future. This can show up looking like arrogance, one upmanship, by not being present when listening to others, jealousy, and excessive consumption of resources from the earth, to name a few.

My assignment over the last couple of weeks has been to notice when I am stealing from the earth and the future. The question for exploration was, "Where are you taking without returning something of equal value?"

Deborah makes a good point on page 62 of The Yamas and Niyamas when she says, "You wouldn't go to a friend's house for dinner, complain about the food, leave your trash lying around and walk off with the candlesticks because you wanted them. And yet, this is so often how we treat our world."

I began pondering this question on the heels of the Tsunami and earthquake in Japan when our fragility as human beings dependent on the earth was violently and tragically showcased. I have been sitting with the idea that what may really be taking place is a magnanimous imbalance within the earth's ecosystems and within ourselves. Calling it a "natural disaster" is a limiting concept that fails to include a holistic approach to engaging with and understanding our world.

The earth is a living organism that each of us are intrinsically connected to. We depend on her resources and we depend on her to be the very foundation we survive upon. Many cultures, both past and present, have known this and honored it. As within, so without, as it were.

Using only what is needed and giving back to the earth are anathema to many people raised to believe that they can have whatever they want, as much as they want, whenever they want, without regard for consequence. I too, was raised an American on consumer culture-super size portions, plastic bags, cheap clothes made in China and all of the petrol one's car could guzzle.

I still struggle with feeling entitled to consume with wild abandon even though my life has been scaled down to a simple country existence with minimal possessions and a garden.

And as I really began to look at where I was taking something without giving something back- whoa Nelly! I was a little bit shocked by how much my engagement with the earth still lacks reciprocity.

Even looking at one simple example like food leads to a conundrum of epic proportions for someone, like me, who is used to having every single type of fruit and vegetable available year round. To even begin to ponder the ridiculousness of buying a tomato from Chile, not to mention the enormous load of resources required to get that tomato from one continent to another-makes me a little bit crazy.

But there is hope.

There is hope in the seedlings that are coming up in my front windows. There is hope in the compost pile in the back yard. There is hope in the renewing season of spring. There is hope in all of the sustainable energy and agriculture movements that are popping up all over the US. There is hope in local food. There is hope in re-using old materials creatively. There is hope in local trade and bartering. There is hope in the possibility that each one of us may begin to wake up to our connection to that which we are dependent on for survival.

Asteya asks each of us to begin with ourselves and I am itching here in KR at the beginning of April to get outside and get my hands in the dirt, to re-affirm my relationship with the life giving soil, to plant and watch more hope grow throughout the summer, to tend to becoming more reciprocal.

"The earth is what we all have in common." -Wendell Barry

Week 2: Satya- Truthfullness

My practice in truthfullness actually ended up lasting a couple of weeks, rather than one; questions, experiements and events all piggy backing on each other.

The question I chose for reflection was: "This week observe the difference between nice and real. Notice situations where you were nice. What did this experience invoke in you. What were the results? Notice situations where you were real. What were the results? What did this experience invoke in you? From what or whom do you seek approval? Does this affect whether you act from niceness or realness?" (The Yamas and Niyamas, p.57)

I got really wound up in this practice. I observed myself in several situations being "nice" rather than "real." Why is it so challenging at times to be real? It invoked almost a guilt response in me, like there was an authority figure telling me that I was doing something that I shouldn't. Which made me wonder, what are the benefits I receive from being "nice" rather than authentic, and who am I trying to impress?!

I did notice that at times I seek approval from those that I do not know well (please accept me), from authority figures (so that I don't get into "trouble"), and sometimes even from my peers (seeking validation). In one particular instance I was meeting with a fellow yogi and found myself changing my language to fit our commentary on truthfullness! I looked at her and said, "I'm noticing myself changing my language as I talk to you, how's that for Satya!" I suppose in that instance you could say I chose to be "real" and call myself out.

I also noticed that I sometimes choose niceness when conflict becomes a possibility, in order to avoid it, I pander to the needs of the other. I also noticed that this only serves me for so long, inevitably the Truth has to come out as I buckle under the weight of the facade of "niceness."

In the book, Deb begs the question, "What are we so afraid of? What might my life look like if I were willing to contact truthfullness in each moment (i.e. do it right the first time)?"

I am sitting with that question and my experiences over the last couple of weeks. I am left with a stronger desire to practice "Doing it right the first time," and a refreshing sense of fortitude that sometimes being real, no matter the risk, is of greater benefit than using "niceness" as a crutch.

Next week: Asteya-Non Stealing

Week 1: Ahimsa, Non-violence and Balance

I thought my first week of experimentation would be easy. I picked the question at the end of the first chapter that I hadn't yet done or really even considered in previous journeys through this book (The Yamas and Niyamas by Deborah Adele). I picked the question for exploration that said, "Guard your balance as if it were a precious resource..find guidance from the messages of your body..do you need more sleep? Exercise? Act on of the messages of your body and explore what balance looks like for you...notice the effect on you and on others."

Like I said, I thought it would be easy.

I live a quiet life, a simple life. I'm usually in bed by 9p and like to spend the mornings walking with my dog and drinking tea. Perhaps that I picked this one because I thought it would be easy says more about me than the experiment itself..hmm.

I tried to do what I usually do, only the social floodgates burst open upon me and I was swept up into staying up late, drinking more wine than usual, sleeping in, not walking Che as much, not reading by the fire and taking more naps. Not to mention that I was already working out some "kinks in my spiritual muscles" simply from living this complicated life (I have to give a shout out to Jennifer Imsande for that lovely metaphor).

Which leaves me wondering if somehow my habits and ego went into revolt as soon as I tried to make balance a "doing" rather than a "being" thing. Or it could have been that I needed some socialization and needed to stay up past my bedtime (That's the fun thing about yoga experiements, there aren't even any real clear answers, only more questions!).

The effects of my actions and the difficulties I faced not only in finding balance but recognizing that I already had some and had to make my way back to it, led me to believe that it was more the former than the latter. I am still tired. I am still catching up on homework and voicemails.

I do have a more concrete idea of what balance means to me and I certainly know how to knock my life completely out of that loop. All in all, it served as a lovely reminder for me.

Coming up: Satya or Truthfullness. This one is a favorite.

Stay tuned.

The Yamas and Niyamas: A Ten Week Experiment

I'm always up for a good experiment, especially one that brings more awareness into my day to day life. I have worked with the Yamas and Niyamas (system of yogic ethical practice) in trainings and workshops and have dabbled on my own, going so far as to tattoo "Ahimsa" or non-violence, the first Yama, on to my forearm so that I wouldn't forget.

Well, I still do. We all do, don't we?

So I thought I would committ to a ten week practice of experimenting on myself and then blogging about it. I will be using Deborah Adele's book "The Yamas and Niyamas" which is available here if you are interested:

http://yoganorthduluth.com/yamasandniyamas_book.htm

Week 1 will cover an experiment in non-violence. I often find this one to be a lot of fun because most of us think of non-violence as being an external issue. We think we have to stop harming others or the planet. But Ahimsa also begs a different question, what if you started with non-violence to the self? What would that look like? And how would it ripple outwards to the rest of your family, friends, community and the world?

As within, so without!

Alright, I'm donning my lab coat.

Stay tuned!

Ligaments, Muscles and Joint Capsules. Oh, My.

Kiki and I were discussing yoga and anatomy today and Kiki, in her style, deposited yet another jewel of wisdom in my lap. I had been pontificating about body awareness and my journey from "severe lack of" to "semi-consciousness" regarding the various body systems and yoga when Kiki said, "If our skin were invisible, that would make yoga different wouldn't it?"

And I thought, "Sheesh, it sure would." I imagined seeing not only the occasional strained face as I looked out from my perch at the front of the room, but also flaming joints and burning, torqued bones and muscles. Eeek.

I was once myself a yoga practioner with flaming joints and a myriad of aches and pains as a consequence. I liked to push and strive and really was not aware that I had a skeletal system or a muscular system and I had stopped listening to the messages from my nervous system years before; I may have smelled something burning but I just kept on mindlessly pushing.

My journey to semi-consciousness has been aided and abetted by chiropractors, massage therapists, yogis, teachers, friends, books, trainings, posters and mirrors. I have only recently come to realize just how much is going on in an asana or yoga pose when it is being expressed by myself or another practioner.

I mean, think about it for a second. All of the neurons sending information through the nervous system, muscles lengthening and shortening, ligaments stretching, it's amazing to ponder!

To uncover and discover the mysteries of our individual bodies is a wonderful gift and exciting exploratory journey. Listening to the messages the body sends is a beautiful opportunity to cultivate deeper body awareness and a more sustainable yoga practice. Moving in the range of motion that is available to us, while being conscious of pain, clicks or clunks is a great way to begin to understand the multi-faceted functioning of our anatomy which in turn brings more consciousness to our yoga practice. It's like "Choose Your Own Adventure" meets "Nancy Drew" meets "Patanjali" (compiler of the yoga sutras).

What fun!

What would it look like if you listened to your body as it moved into and out of the poses? Have you ever isolated a particular muscle, ligament or joint into your sphere of awareness?

Happy exploring!

Namaste.

Enlighten Up and Stay Young at Heart

If you haven't played Hide and Go Seek lately, you are missing out. If you haven't played Hide and Go Seek lately with a group of young adults, in the dark, with only a head lamp on the strobe light setting for the seeker, well, then you are really missing out.

You will laugh like you haven't laughed in years. You will laugh so hard you might cry. You will stumble and grope and laugh and try to squeeze yourself into a small space. Adrenaline will flood your body as you see the strobe light coming down the hallway. You will run and flee the Seeker, laughing and sweating with your fellow Hiders. You will have memories that make you smile and then laugh some more.

In our externally focused culture not only do we obsess over aging, we put all of these rules on it, trapping something fluid into a little box covered in duct tape and razor wire. We cement beliefs about ourselves. We become more rigid, less playful. We forget how to let go. We forget how to lighten up. We forget how to stay up past our bedtime. Sometimes, we can even forget how to laugh or enjoy the company of others.

As I ride the high from a wicked game of Hide and Seek, I remember and laugh at what it is to be alive, to have fun, to be child like and curious, to break the rules and the contraints that we set for ourselves...and I invite you to do the same. How long has it been since you played a game? Took a midnight trek through the woods? Laughed out loud and almost peed your pants?

Grab some kids, grab some friends and play!

Che as Teacher

We can learn a lot about ourselves from those we live with, including the animals in our care. Che has been a constant companion of mine for almost four years. Our journey has been wrought with peril and adventure and through it all I have again and again been shown, my-self.

A simple example of this would be that Che used to love getting into the garbage. If I would leave him home alone and there was any type of teeny tiny savory tid bit in the garbage, I was guaranteed to find a gale force mess in the house when I returned. I used to get angry, until Che taught me that a good dog owner actually puts the garbage can in a place where a pup can't reach it.

Che, as a living breathing experiencing being, has also taught me the importance of daily walks in nature. If Che does not get his daily walk, well then, I can expect to be followed around by him, staring and pouting. When we walk together, we are both invigorated and nourished by the fresh air (even when it is 20 below) and we return home ready for a period of rest, which is another very important lesson.

Che has modeled for me the perfect life; eat, sleep, walk, sleep, play, sleep, eat, sleep. Periods of activity puncutated by periods of rest, genius! There are many of us who could benefit from this simple lesson.

Recently Che taught me an invaluable lesson when he allowed his life to be a mirror for my expectations. Expectations are really quite sticky anyway, those hopes, fears, wants, desires all tangled up in another. And even worse than that is what happens when expectations fizzle and die and disappointment ensues.

Well, last week I was left holding that bag of disappointment and I was left sitting with my own choices in a big fat cosmic giggle kind of way.

You see, I suddenly had the brilliant idea that Che must be lonely and in need of a companion. I thought, perhaps he wouldn't pout so much, perhaps we could walk less often, perhaps he would have someone to stay home with while I was away. So, we drove for 6 hours to Wisconsin to pick up a puppy.

To make a long story short, we ended up driving 6 hours back to Wisconsin a couple of days later after consultations with a dog trainer, the adoption agency and the foster parents of the pup as to why Che just didn't seem to care to have a sister.

I admit, I was perplexed, how could Che not want a sister? How could he ignore her, nip at her and be just down right mean to her? It was then that Che taught me another lesson, that dogs don't speak English and their needs may not exactly be in line with our own.

I was beginning to feel like a big dummy at this point, especially when looking at the larger ramifications of my behavior. There was a lovely kernel of truth in what had happened, that I had pushed my expectations on to another and had been sorely disappointed. Eeek.

So there it is in all of its shiny wisdom, other's needs may not be in line with our own and our expectations can fog up our own ability to see. And even though Che's inability to speak English, or more aptly my inability to speak fluent Dog influenced this event, I am certain that it is also true that this type of thing happens often between humans, who often do speak the same language.

Its funny, when Che came into my life I never expected that I would learn so much about myself or that it would be MY behaviors that would need to be modified rather than his. Oh, the irony.

If you've got a furry friend, perhaps this story will make you curious about what little kernels of truth might be embedded in your relationship with them.

Namaste.

Celebrating the Sacred Feminine

I attended a workshop at Yoga North recently called, "Down There." It was a wonderful educational experience and revolved around the pelvic floor, the net of muscles at the bottom of the pelvis that support our internal musco-skeletal structures and hold the contents of the pelvis securely in place. I'm speaking of the muscles that surround the urethra, vagina, anus and run from the pubic bone to the tail bone.

This group of muscles a long with others in the inner and outer thigh, spine and diaphragm work together to create mobility, stability and strength in the body-very important in any yoga pose or day to day activity. If we fail to bring awareness to these muscles, as women specifically, we risk possible incontinence or weakness that becomes so endemic that our vaginas can lose elasticity and fall out like a tube sock. Shocking, yes, but more common than you think. But I don't want to talk about that today.

I want to talk about why women in our culture lack awareness of or are afraid of their pelvic floor.

For starters, it isn't easy to talk about vaginas in a patriarchal culture that has a religious tradition that shames the female form, calling it unclean or dirty. The blood we shed each month (the only blood that comes out of a human body that isn't from a wound) has been deemed shameful as well, and so we suffer (I mean seriously, how many times have I hid a tampon up my shirt sleeve as I have skulked away to the bathroom?).

Hiding what is rightfully ours to covet as a sacred time is common practice and in so doing we suffer from a lack of celebratory awareness of the very things that make us female. We suffer in the pain of childbirth, menstruation, menopause and in the cultural norm of being crazy PMSing lunatics that shop in the "sanitary" aisle.

No wonder our vaginas fall out.

Coming into sacred contact with my pelvic floor has led me to question these common practices of shame and avoidance and crazy making. What if instead of believing that I am crazy during the time of my cycle, I were to ask myself what truth is embedded when I am more connected to my emotions and my body? What would happen if I were to begin to believe that through my cycle I am more whole, sacred, connected and that led to more awareness, balance, and strength in my body?

And no, this isn't the time of "The Red Tent," that wonderful book where women all cycled together and spent their time in a tent rubbing each other's feet and drinking wine. We are expected to continue as normal, as if we aren't more in tune or uncomfortable or sleepy or crampy or irritated because we might be confusing truth with bloating.

So how then can we honor what is rightfully ours to uphold when society does not allow for it? How can we expand our lives as women to include ourselves in the sacredness of the feminine?

I have heard and practiced several things over the years:

*Lighting a candle at the beginning of your cycle and allowing it to burn for the full 5-7 days. (This can also become a household norm so that family and friends are aware that it is your sacred time)

*Doing a personal ritual-hot bath, walk in the moonlight

*Journaling

*And of course, taking a pelvic floor class at Yoga North!

I find in my own body that when I lack awareness of my pelvic floor, I default back to the patriarchy and I start to believe that perhaps it is all just a shameful, annoying mess. I give up, collapse and weakness in my body ensues.

But the more I practice and the more I integrate pelvic floor work and sacred femininity into my life, the more I remember my intuition, my truth and my connection to my body. In turn, the more I experience my practice, the more I gain the benefits of pelvic floor stability in my body's musco-skeletal systems. As within so without...ya know?

I invite you to get curious about your own relationship to the feminine and what that means for where you are in your life and in your yoga practice.

Namaste.

Stillness is Boring?

I seek stillness, peace and calm in my day to life. I do yoga, I meditate, I walk in the woods, I sit by the wood stove.

Why then, for god's sake, am I bored? I pondered this with my teacher recently. It went something like this...

My teacher was looking at me in that way she does when she knows I am on the verge of grasping something but am not quite there: with compassion and the fortitude to let me come around to it in my own timing.

I had been complaining again about the boredom in my life, so much quiet time, so much stillness, so much silence. I was feeling uneasy, could feel myself grasping for something, fantasizing about how to reach the heights of thrill through speed, rushing, pushing and doing.

My teacher, she was just smiling. She said, "Just sit with what you call boredom."

"What?" I thought.

"Sit with it, there is something there for you in the word," she went on, still smiling.

I looked at her smiling and a light bulb of epic proportions blinked on in my head, alive and buzzing with the knowing of direct experience. I replied, "Are you saying that I am looking at boredom in the wrong way?"

She said, "Hilary, everything you seek (peace, calm, quiet- a slower life) you have found." And I said, wide eyed, "You mean I've been labeling those things boredom and haven't been aware that I'm already there?!"

She laughed. I laughed in abject surprise. I'm not really bored. I'm peaceful. Only thing is, I've also been addicted to thrill. Which is why peace got confused with boredom.

What a freaking revelation!

And it's no wonder, in a society like ours, so externally focused on the next big thing, material possessions, Hollywood, speed, technology, doing, doing doing, that I got confused when I finally found what I had been looking for.

The valuable lesson that I learned is that BEING does not feel like DOING. BEING just is, it isn't good or bad or boring or thrilling, it just is.

I humorously value the "boredom" in my life much more now and when I feel the pull to seek the thrill, I settle back into my breath, sink a little bit further into being and smile.

I invite you to ask yourself about your own "boredom." You may make some surprising discoveries.

Happy New Year from Riverview Street

I hope this posting finds all of you well and happy at the beginning of this new year. The dawning of a new year is often a time for hopes, dreams and reflections and sometimes resolutions to do something differently, make a new choice or to set off on a grand adventure.

Kiki and I are in the midst of such a grand adventure, this time on the North Shore, much, much closer to home than India. Kiki is in the middle of training to be an Ayurvedic Practioner and recently completed her Indian Head Massage certification and while I finished the second level of teacher training for Hatha Yoga last year, I just recently completed that certification as well.

All of the work, training and traveling have led us here, to Riverview Street, where yoga classes, Ayurvedic services and massage will be available beginning on Tuesday, January 18.

Tuesday Yoga will be from 6-7P

Wednesday Yoga will be from 5:30-6:30P

*Classes are by donation ($5 suggested)

Kiki will be offering Indian Head Massage and Hot Oil Face and Body massage on Tue, Wed and Fri by appointment.

Please check out our website for an up to date calendar, directions and contact information.

We are looking forward to having you join us on our new adventure!

Happy New Year and Namaste.

www.yogaforeverybody.webs.com

The Openness in Endings

In order for something new to occur, something else must often end and in those close, tense, grieving moments of change and loss there is also a flow, an opening. Ripe ideas, passions and moments alive in people burst forth into new terrain leaving their incubators behind. All too often we get attached to the incubator, try to bring it forward with us, unable to perhaps see how we can set out on our paths without the group, the person, the place to our greatest good, serve our highest purpose.

For the first time I'm finding openness in the endings, trusting the flow, trusting that yes, things will always change and I will always survive intact, better than before, more full with life-open ended.

Yoga For EveryBody

Yoga for EveryBody is a donation based yoga studio on the shore of Lake Superior. Give yourself the gift of health and wellness this new year and join us in our Riverview Street studio for a class! All ages, all levels welcome.

Visit our new website! www.yogaforeverybody.webs.com

Instructors:
Kiki Erspamer RYT200 and Ayurvedic Head Massage Practitioner

Jodi Christensen RYT500

Hilary Buckwalter RYT200

Ayurvedic Head Massage is available by appointment, please contact Kiki: www.love-life-yoga.com

Mission: Our mission is to unravel common myths about yoga and to make yoga accessible to anyone regardless of age, body shape, practice level or ability to pay. We believe that yoga can be beneficial to anyone and that it provides for health, wholeness, and flexibility. Yoga for EveryBody is Yoga for YOU.

Description: Yoga classes will be held weekly and will incorporate the use of props to facilitate ease in postures and movements. Classes will focus on building strength through core stability and will also utilize relaxation and meditation techniques.

As a donation based studio there is no fixed fee for classes. There is a suggested $5 donation, however, no one will be turned away due to inability to pay. Yoga for EveryBody instructors also use the barter system, please inquire with your instructor to discuss appropriate options.

Organization Overview: We are a group of yoga teachers who have worked and studied together that have a desire to share the benefits of yoga with others.

Products:Yoga classes and Ayurvedic Head Massage


Class Schedule:
Tuesday's beginning January 18th- Gentle Yoga with Kiki 5:30-6:30P

Wednesday's begninng January 19th- Yoga for Relaxation and Flexibility with Hilary 5:30-6:30P

A tea social hour follows each class.

Class fee: $5 suggested donation or barter

Like us on Facebook!

Facing the World

Facing the world means that I am living my life fully, that everything is in perfect timing for my success; especially when it appears otherwise.

Facing the world means relinquishing control, trusting that life is unfolding and that other's lives are unfolding as they should.

Facing the world means letting go of addiction in whatever form it is showing up in; worry, thrill, sugar, alcohol, arguments.

Facing the world means settling into the stillness and recognizing it for what it is; exactly what I have been looking for, exactly what I have been missing because I have been too busy facing in all of the wrong directions seeking the right thing.

Be curious, ask yourself which direction you often find yourself facing; towards others? perhaps one particular person-thing-obsession? What would it look like if you faced the world?

Honoring Grief

I met with my grief counselor yesterday for the last time. She is retiring next month and I have a toolbox full of goodies and insight to spirit me on my way. I've been seeing her regularly now for the last seven months after some prompting from a friend, when I realized that I really wasn't sure how to navigate the waters of grief after my father's suicide in October 2009.

Grief is a tricky thing and it can send you into a tailspin of raw experience, confusion and turbulent emotion. A grieving person has had their life forever altered. A loved one is gone, perhaps suddenly, perhaps after a long battle with an illness. In any case, it can be debilitating and there is no determined length for the adjustment process; it can take years, if not a lifetime to integrate the loss, to spin your way around the grief cycle.

Our culture and society do not seem to allow room for grievers or for grief even though grief is a process that is experienced within a social context. There are no requisite number of days to wear black. There isn't much time to process before returning to life as usual. Franklin Delano Roosevelt was the last American president to wear a black arm band when his mother Sara passed away. In our culture today, aside from the funeral, most rituals of wailing, head shaving, and wearing certain clothing are gone.

How on earth then, is anyone supposed to know that we might need more time? Extra care and support? Understanding and empathy?

A person with a cast on their arm has an obvious injury that society allows for, as a person in the hospital with an illness has a physical manifestation of the fact that she may need more support and care. It is not so with grief.

Grief can be lonely and silent. When the tidal waves of emotion wash over you, it can leave you feeling rudderless and crazy, uncertain and fragile. The waves can come out of nowhere at any time, they don't care about appropriateness or timing, they have their own schedule.

Grief is a sensitive time. I can liken it to being turned inside out, like a fish that has come up from the depths of the deepest darkest ocean, too far and too fast. Resisting the pull, the tearing, the scream, only serves to prolong the process and make it worse. Surrender is the only option.

I am here to tell you that despite the pulling, tearing and screaming, there is hope. There is hope and creativity and insight. Hope can be found in accepting the process, in seeking a solid support system, in honoring your grief; for it is yours and yours alone and it cannot belong to anyone else. In fact, an important factor in the resolution of grief is social support from others. The bereaved need support, not only for the reality of the loss, but for the validity of their grief, and of themselves as legitimate grievers.

So how can we honor our own grief you might ask? By expressing it and accepting it without fear. By learning to understand our own way of processing the grief. By rooting ourselves in things that nourish and comfort our wounded souls. By not being afraid to cry and wail and shake. Perhaps even by wearing a physical symbol of grief to let the world know that you are going through something critical, important, valuable and sacred that will ultimately change who you are as a person, if you will allow it.

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey. ~Kenji Miyazawa

Like a Rock Tumbler

It is amazing how one seemingly innocuous action can set into motion a myriad of intermingling inner experiences, all going off in succession like fire works.

We've all been there. Mistakes, errors, situations beyond our control (aren't they all?), ducking and covering until the storm passes only to stand up and dust ourselves off to find out that we were actually the one who pushed the red button.

This is difficult to admit; the choices we make and the responsibility we have for them-especially when things don't work out the way we would like, when we complain and gossip, suppress and refute, turning accountability outward.

Choice and consciousness. Cause and effect.

Choice and consciousness are the great rock tumbler of the Universe. When the Universe shakes out the stones that burden it, consciousness catches them and spins them, knocking them into each other; grating, breaking, polishing, shining, healing.

If we can be present to this process and admit our culpability, we then have the power to make a different choice, to cultivate inner awareness.

However, if we remain unconscious to this process, we keep getting tumbled, experiencing the same situations and results over and over and over again, ad infinitum.

Mistakes and awareness of choice are opportunities to become more competent at living this life.

What would you have to change if you told yourself the truth about your choices?

Sit Your Tongue Down

My friend Kiki and I were sharing wine the other night and I was complaining about my jaw pain. I was telling her that I've been to chiropractors that tell me they cannot "fix" me (one even recommended I see someone about negative thinking), to massage therapists who try to work out the kinks and have also had a splint made to wear while I'm sleeping which has led me to fantasize about becoming a boxer or perhaps a Harbor City Roller Dame.

While all of these methods are helpful and even healing, they have not gotten to the root of the problem: that I am responsible for the thoughts and the tension that are lodged in my cells and muscles. As a yoga instructor I intellectually know this to be true, however, that does not mean that it is always easy for me to accept when I am in pain and want to be FIXED in the short term rather than take the longer road to healing my mind.

Well, thank god for Kiki.

As I explained my predicament, she said quite bluntly, "Sit your tongue down."

I looked at her perplexed, "What?"

"Sit your tongue down," she replied, "you know, relax it in your mouth, let it settle."

I tried what she suggested and at that precise moment, Cherubs and Seraphim began to sing as the ceiling at Zeitgeist Cafe opened and white light began to shine down on my smiling face.

I had not realized until that very moment that I often have tension in my tongue and press it on the roof of my mouth. I felt how this made my jaw tense and in turn, my neck and shoulders creating a menagerie of dysfunction.

All this time I had been seeking answers outside of myself. In fact, I had been convinced that if only I had my back adjusted regularly, wore my splint religiously and used massage as maintenance I would feel like a million bucks. Turns out, not so.

Turns out, sitting my tongue down consciously throughout the day has far outweighed any of the other things I have tried. Perhaps it is also because it brings me into awareness of the present moment and how I am sitting-lying-standing-breathing-holding my body-tongue-neck-shoulders.

That being said, try it. Go on, right now, just try it. Sit your tongue down.

Thank you Kiki, I am so happy you didn't get sucked down the toilet in India.

Namaste.

Wielding the Sword of Self Responsibility

I am currently reading, "Strong and Fearless, The Quest for Personal Power," by Phil Nuernberger, Ph.D. I seem to always shift around in my seat uncomfortably a bit when the topic of self responsibility is on the table. I tell myself that I am self responsible and then end up confused when I confront feelings of insecurity or blame.

Phil says that it is our skill level that makes us feel powerless and ineffective, dissatisfied and cynical. Instead of responding to life with skill and confidence, we react and can then find ourselves playing the role of the victim; the place where everything is someone or something else's fault. "Self mastery means that we have the knowledge and skill to use all dimensions of our humanity-physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual-in a conscious and skillful way." (p.22)

He further says to look at self responsibility as two distinct concepts "response" and "ability," the capacity to respond rather than react. As I read this I began to think about my own ability to respond rather than act out of habit.

When I am feeling unhappy I am quick to blame something outside of myself rather than look inward at my own choices. This causes conflict in my relationships and in my environment, and that is never very fun.

Phil says that to take charge of our lives, we must take charge of ourselves.

It is both compelling and uncomfortable to look inward at how I create my own circumstances and situations. And it is precisely staying with that uncomfortable feeling that lead to new senses of awareness and personal growth, which in turn lead to more self mastery and the ability to make conscious choices.

Today I sit stewing in a pot of patience and discomfort. At least this time I have my sword.

For more on Dr. Phil Nuernberger, visit: http://www.mindmaster.com/sis_who.htm#

No Pain, No Gain? or The Day My Ego Got Busted

My first day at teacher training at Yoga North went something like this...

Anne, one of the instructors asks me to do a downward facing dog in front of the training group. My ego smiles, I know I've got this. I move into the triangle like posture, palms on the ground, heels all the way to the ground behind me. I feel so good about "how far" I can go into this posture. I am a good Yogi.

Anne begins to point out to the class that I am not breathing. My neck is straining. My hips are not aligned. My knees are pushed back into a double jointed bracing position. My triangle looks more like a lumpy half circle and as I break into the awareness of my complete and utter lack of body awareness, my face begins to burn. I realize that I am actually not breathing. I realize that I am actually in pain. I realize that I am confused, aren't I supposed to be in pain? Even just a little bit?

The answer to that question dear friends, is no.

Busted!

Turns out, I can't do triangle pose the way that it is often portrayed on the cover of Yoga Journal. Turns out, I can't do many of the yoga postures as portrayed on posters, in magazines and as demonstrated by other Yogi's. Turns out, postures are unique to the person doing them, depending on their level of core strength, flexibility and body awareness.

WHAT?! But this doesn't make sense Hilary! What about "No pain, no gain?!"

Straining and pushing our bodies into postures or positions that we are not ready for can create MORE tension, MORE tightness and MORE dysfunction in the body (and the mind). These are the very benefits one is supposed to glean from a yoga practice; less tension, less tightness and less musco-skeletal dysfunction.

It is my experience in my body that if I cannot breathe in a pose or if I exhibit any of the other symptoms of having an obsession with what the external body "looks like" vs. "feels like" - red face, straining tendons and ligaments, and pinched, crunched muscles- then I have probably fallen into the Pushing Through the Pain to Glory camp.

Pushing Through the Pain to Glory can be associated with the western view of exercise. Yoga often gets lumped into this category, as simply or only exercise and as exercise that one should push, strain, sweat and muscle through.

My experiences at Yoga North have led me to believe differently, that perhaps there is another way, a way beyond the ego's obsession with externalities, a way into more ease, spaciousness and functional movement in my body.

The fable of the Tortoise and the Hare really nails it; patience vs. ego. It is my experience that slow and steady really does win the race. Cultivating body awareness and pure movement in the joints of our body is slow and steady work. Learning to breathe into a posture or through a movement is slow and steady work. Learning to relax into a pose with stability is slow and steady work. The Tortoise vs. the Hare, homeostasis in the bodily systems vs. dysfunction and pain.

I invite you as I invite all students to find the places in your body and in your life where you can breathe comfortably, without strain or pain. I invite you to make room for spaciousness and ease in your joints, in your mind and in your yoga experiences. I invite you to experiment with the possibility of having less pain and tightness in your body. I invite you to experiment with having less pain and tightness in your life..

And take a lesson from me, who learned it the hard way and ask yourself, with the current state of your yoga practice or exercise regimen, what will your bodie's level of functioning be like when you are 70 or 80?

Happy exploring!

Namaste.

Letters From Jamaica: Trespassing in Babylon

I tend to learn a lot from two things: traveling and retrospect. I stumbled across some old travel journals while cleaning and thought I would share. This entry is from my trip to Jamaica in March of 2010.

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On a flight destined for Miami, I contemplate my privileged life. At the Minneapolis airport this morning, immigrants staffed the counter at Caribou Coffee, so gracious at 5am; ready with smiling faces and paper sacks to hold my turkey sandwich and fruit cup wrapped in plastic. They are serving coffee and I am about to leave for Jamaica, a land of extremes; tropical beaches, gang warfare, coconuts, resorts and poverty. I am the requisite Spring breaker in white linen pants toting sunglasses and an IPOD.

I observe my fellow Minnesotans as I wait for the flight attendant to begin the safety briefing. The man seated next to me is going to Haiti, probably to help out with the relief effort. Me, I'm going to a tropical "paradise" to recharge and relax; a sea of salt and pepper pin heads spanning the seats in front of me, bound for Florida.

Travelers Resort, Negril, Westmoreland, Jamaica:

It took nearly 24 hours to get here. Errol's, the place we were going to stay on the beach has fallen into ill repute. No one appears to be staying there and the restauraunt is not functioning. We are cajoled and serenaded anyway but decide that it may be too risky for a newly pregnant lady and head next door.

Corruption holds hands with poverty in this tiny island nation. Shanty towns, goats, Rastafarians, hustlers. We quickly realize that relaxation is not easily attained in this tropical paradise. The hustlers are relentless and we attract undo attention with our dreadlocks. Islanders dance jigs for vacationers trying to make a buck. Slavery is alive and well, a post-colonial hang over. It keeps our brains busy, too busy to relax.

The beach is beautiful, the sun is warm and the mangoes are to die for. We are handed joint after joint in this land of ganja and know that these "gifts" will come back to haunt us today on the beach. The hustlers have grafted exquisite tactics of manipulation including physically stuffing pot in your pockets, demanding payment and all the while regaling Bob Marley, singing "Roots, Rock, Reggae," playing on the ignorance of tourists whose only knowledge of Jamaica is in fact, Mr. Iron Lion Zion himself.

Trust has fallen by the wayside in this land of corrugated shanty huts and palacious homes in the hillsides. Gates, security, police officers, fat pink tourists; these things all guarantee that the circle will not end. "One Love" appears to be lost on all of us. Tourists buy cheap towels imprinted with these powerful words and have no idea that it is meant to be taken into the heart. Likewise for the folks selling them, trying to survive.

Later in a car riding through Sheffield, I meet my entitlement.

After witnessing a domestic dispute in the country in which a man and a woman chased another woman down a hill and smashed her head in with a bamboo pole and a three ring circus at a waterfall where a nine year old boy was put in charge of hustling us, I wanted two things and two things only: safety and security, topped with a dash of detachment and fuzzy denial. I wanted to reject my ability to see. I wanted to check out.

At the hotel afterwards, I promptly ate a cheeseburger and drank two beers. Ah, the good life. The right to participate as I "choose." The right to see when I feel like it. The right to ignore the reality of the place where I am half guest, half interloper. The right to purchase security guards, out of range of the hustle.

Fantasy vs. reality. Entitlement. Arrogance. Checking out. The precious jewels of wisdom hidden within. Short tennuous connections are easily broken by fear and greed, the strands of common humanness so fragile, nearly invisible in the tropical sun. It appears that we are all lost children of Zion, that spiritual point from which reality emerges culminating in unity, peace and freedom.