I've recently started my own 30-day challenge, inspired by so many students and fellow yogis who make the incredible commitment to deepen their practice and build the habit of yoga into their daily lives. It's so inspirational, especially given how early in the morning many show up for practice!
So far I've completed six days - carving out the space wherever I can - and I'm amazed by how quick and lucid the memory is, in my body, mind and heart, of why I chose yoga - or it chose me - or whatever; but most importantly why we keep coming together.
As a teacher, your personal practice can shift dramatically; instructing becomes a part of "living your yoga," but it can get harder to find time to squeeze in your asana practice. But no regrets. Not a single one. Teaching has deepened my connection with myself, my community and the world over the last six years in ways so rich that I can barely fathom some of the old poverties of being and relating; choosing a new, exciting, scary path rather than staying on an old, "safe" track which no longer nourished me, has taught me so much about taking risks and trusting in self and Universe; Great Mystery.
In many ways it brought even more up and close with yoga. Striving to align with yogic principles off the mat and out of the studio has been an ongoing passion and reality check - but walking the walk, I've come to realize, also means continuing to feed my mat practice. Even if it feels like there isn't time.
Every part of me needs it. And so does our world. By filling myself up first, spiritually speaking, I have so much more to offer; when we are full, we can nourish our relationships and our planet.
Getting too far away from asana practice makes me forget the feelings of exhilaration, space, freedom, peace, seamless and fully embodied ok-ness that my mat time manifests; not to mention, it puts me out-of-touch when teaching and gives me a bad case of asana envy.
When I get back to my mat, I remember. And I pick up the practice where I left off; life is a slipping in and out of yoga (Divine Union) and the space I carve out for mat practice always helps me to stay longer, slip less, keep committing.
Not every day can be a bad-ass Power Flow practice. There is a time for the tapas and samskara-burning heat of a challenging and transformative yang practice. And there is a time for stillness, and the healing, quiet waters of yin and meditative practices. The doing and the non-doing, the being and becoming. The evolution and involution. It's now and never-ending.
I love my mat more than ever - probably because it's collected everything from sweat and tears to nasal drip and dust. Such love is sacred and yields such abundant beauty but it is a relationship and an investment that, like any bond between two people, requires effort, work, time and, of course, love. Never stop giving to your practice and you will never stop receiving. Aum.
Sunday 20 October 2013
Wednesday 6 March 2013
Involution
Go inside.
Turn a light on.
Shine it around.
Read the ancient writing on the walls.
Investigate the shadows.
Make your heart your home, again.
And again. And again.
Inside, your real estate;
Axis mundi, temple of light.
Divine, here, unwind;
And know thyself.
Now, in folds of sweet solitude.
Drops of new nectar.
Golden glow of dawn.
Welcome, peace, here.
Like for the first time.
Fluid, but flowing in
New whispers of lovely.
Lovelier than any need.
The love inside is one step ahead.
Chase your pain,
Back to the breaking open.
Om.
Monday 4 February 2013
The Yin and Yang of it
I am offering a series of workshops in the coming months that explore the yin and yang qualities of yoga. Through my own practice, I've learned that nurturing both aspects creates balance, and supports a dynamic, intuitive and sustainable yoga practice.
I hope you will join me on this journey.
The Workshops:
Yin Sanctuary
Yin/Yang Mandala
I hope you will join me on this journey.
The Workshops:
Yin Sanctuary
Explore the other side of yoga. Yin is a deeply healing and restorative practice of asana (physical postures). We will get quiet, go inward and move safely into long, deep holds that target the body’s expansive web of connective tissues or fascia.
Yin is the perfect complement to a dynamic practice and an antidote for stress and burnout: it helps relieve physical and emotional tension, lifts fatigue and makes the joints more “juicy” and mobile, while increasing the flow of prana (vital energy) in the body. We will use sensation as our guide, cultivate trust and open to “receiving.”
Yin is the perfect complement to a dynamic practice and an antidote for stress and burnout: it helps relieve physical and emotional tension, lifts fatigue and makes the joints more “juicy” and mobile, while increasing the flow of prana (vital energy) in the body. We will use sensation as our guide, cultivate trust and open to “receiving.”
The Dates:
Yin Sanctuary ~ Sun. Feb 24, 4:15-6:15 p.m. @ Hot in Leduc $30 FULL!
RSVP as space is limited 780-986-5588
Yin Sanctuary ~ Sun. Mar 10, 1:00-3:00 p.m. @ Yoga Within $30
RSVP as space is limited 780-450-9642 See Facebook Event.
Yin Sanctuary ~ Sun Mar 30, 1:30-3:30 p.m. @ That Yoga Place, Stony Plain $30
Yin/Yang Mandala
Experience the many harmonizing benefits of combining a strong, dynamic "yang" practice with a quiet, slow "yin" practice. We'll get sweaty and also deeply still. Strive. And arrive. Yang is the Sun. Yin is the Moon. Yang builds strength and feeds transformation. Yin honours the unchanging and essential wholeness of who you already are. Both energies are needed to balance mind, body and spirit. Come get your yin-yang on!
The Dates:
Yin/Yang Mandala ~ Sun Apr. 14, 1-3 p.m. @ Yoga Within, Edmonton $30
RSVP as space is limited 780-450-9642
Yin/Yang Mandala ~ Sun Apr. 27, 1:30-3:30 p.m. @ That Yoga Place, Stony Plain $30
RSVP as space is limited 780-960-0868
Got any questions about these workshops? Feel free to call or text me at 780-974-8401.
Got any questions about these workshops? Feel free to call or text me at 780-974-8401.
Sunday 3 February 2013
To My Yoga
Yoga saved my life. Okay, not literally. But it reached me where no one and nothing else could, and started to reel me back in.
Well, I had no idea what yoga was doing, of course, or even that I needed a line, but my body did.
The first time I tried yoga I was in Fort St. James - about 250 km northwest of Everything, living (so to speak) in small-town northern B.C., and working like there was no tomorrow, as a reporter in a one-person newsroom.
Being in the moment was not even a concept to me.
I was all brains and adrenaline, spending seven days a week chasing my dream to be a journalist, one idiom and adjective at a time. Headlines and deadlines. Nothing else mattered.
Until yoga woke me up.
Yoga did not peddle a religion or rulebook. It inspired a unique brand of faith in which belief arose through insights gained first-hand by my own heart and head. So there were no compromises. Only choices, which simply arrived, when other ones lost their hold on me.
I am talking about self-limiting beliefs, actions, activities, relationships; the ones that keep our pain of separation - from our own true nature and our essential wholeness - at bay. Yoga taught me that we must chase our pain back to its source, feel it again in our bodies, sit through the anger and tears and mind games with our own disillusioned child, and then surrender. Just let go. As many times as necessary.
Through the rise and fall of breath, yoga spoke to me in an ancient and pre-linguistic language which moved my soul in ways that felt innately natural. Now we tussle, play, dance the dervish, revisit old and unforgiving places, explore new dimensions and re-route the bungled pathways I still travel on sometimes between fiction and truth. We laugh. We cry. But through it all, my trust in yoga only grows.
Wholeness is like the cycles of the moon: sometimes it waxes and sometimes it wanes, but it's always there, night or day, winter or summer, rain or shine.
I've learned more about my self, human nature, Mother Earth, the galaxy, psychology, spirituality, people, politics, business, health and happiness from yoga, than from any book, course, job, goal or dream of living I ever had.
Once, I believed that all I needed in life to be happy was my portable laptop (including wi-fi and online Thesaurus). Now, I travel with two soul companions: my trusty MacBook and my Manduka yoga mat.
Yoga is my vocation, my ever-winding path, my teacher, my friend, and my lover - in whose eyes, is ever-reflecting that I, too, am lover and beloved.
Well, I had no idea what yoga was doing, of course, or even that I needed a line, but my body did.
The first time I tried yoga I was in Fort St. James - about 250 km northwest of Everything, living (so to speak) in small-town northern B.C., and working like there was no tomorrow, as a reporter in a one-person newsroom.
Being in the moment was not even a concept to me.
But the amazing thing about our physicality - and yoga - is that the body can experience what the mind has yet to put into words.
I was all brains and adrenaline, spending seven days a week chasing my dream to be a journalist, one idiom and adjective at a time. Headlines and deadlines. Nothing else mattered.
Until yoga woke me up.
It's like I was living in a perpetual storm without an umbrella or raincoat, and didn't even know it, and just for an hour I stepped out of it and undercover, and there was this instant of ineffable calm.
From that day forward, I sought yoga out in every town, city and country I visited. I grew a practice. I nurtured it through sunshine and inclemency. I became devoted to something, for the first time, whole-heartedly, because it made me believe - at first, in fleeting glimpses, and then more panoramic vistas which took my mind, body and breath away - that I was already, and always, whole.
 |
| Where it all began. I attended my first public yoga class in Prince George, BC in 2001. |
Yoga did not peddle a religion or rulebook. It inspired a unique brand of faith in which belief arose through insights gained first-hand by my own heart and head. So there were no compromises. Only choices, which simply arrived, when other ones lost their hold on me.
I am talking about self-limiting beliefs, actions, activities, relationships; the ones that keep our pain of separation - from our own true nature and our essential wholeness - at bay. Yoga taught me that we must chase our pain back to its source, feel it again in our bodies, sit through the anger and tears and mind games with our own disillusioned child, and then surrender. Just let go. As many times as necessary.
Through the rise and fall of breath, yoga spoke to me in an ancient and pre-linguistic language which moved my soul in ways that felt innately natural. Now we tussle, play, dance the dervish, revisit old and unforgiving places, explore new dimensions and re-route the bungled pathways I still travel on sometimes between fiction and truth. We laugh. We cry. But through it all, my trust in yoga only grows.
Wholeness is like the cycles of the moon: sometimes it waxes and sometimes it wanes, but it's always there, night or day, winter or summer, rain or shine.
I've learned more about my self, human nature, Mother Earth, the galaxy, psychology, spirituality, people, politics, business, health and happiness from yoga, than from any book, course, job, goal or dream of living I ever had.
Once, I believed that all I needed in life to be happy was my portable laptop (including wi-fi and online Thesaurus). Now, I travel with two soul companions: my trusty MacBook and my Manduka yoga mat.
Yoga is my vocation, my ever-winding path, my teacher, my friend, and my lover - in whose eyes, is ever-reflecting that I, too, am lover and beloved.
Aum.
ॐ
Check out my current public yoga class schedule and upcoming workshops in Edmonton and area.
Sunday 20 January 2013
Word: Love
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