Changing My View

 

When the same situations that cause us suffering occur again and again and we have exhausted all options of changing these types of situations with our current view and/or methods, the only thing to do is change our view and quite possibly, set ourselves free.

I have been a grasper, a person afraid of abandonment, and a dependent on outside appreciation to feel self worth. I have held fast to my ideals, believing my way is the "right" way because I come from love with well wishes for the greater good. I have made others wrong, so I could be right. I have tried helping others, but in some cases have only held them back with my intrusion, not trusting in the natural flow of the Universe.  Each and every time, I have been the cause of my own suffering.

I am making a vow to change my view and have been prescribed by my teacher to meditate more, retreat a couple of times per year, and learn to let go and let flow, narrowing the gap of no return on my negative emotions. To do this, means I will have more energy to do what I love most in the world, which is help people.

Of course, I knew all of this all long; I just needed to hit a personal bottom so the magic could begin to happen. I am now ready to do the work. 

When people see some things as beautiful,

other things become ugly.

When people see some things as good,

other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.

Difficult and easy support each other.

Long and short define each other.

High and low depend on each other.

Before and after follow each other.

Therefore the Master

acts without doing anything

and teaches without saying anything.

Things arise and she lets them come;

things disappear and she lets them go.

She has but doesn't possess,

acts but doesn't expect.

When her work is done, she forgets it.

That is why it lasts forever. ~Tao Te Ching

My Breathe into Recovery Article Published

 Yay! Woohoo! Yeehaw!

I can now add "published author" to my resume. I am now more motivated than ever to share my love for yoga through writing.

The following link is to the article I wrote about a program I put together several years ago.  I have trained teachers in this method and enjoy hearing the feedback of those it has touched in some way.

Breathe Into Recovery Article on Yoga Sanga

*pats self on back and checks off goal on bucket list*

Unnecessary Grizzle & Kick Abouts

Just In case you are vocabulary challenged like I am, grizzle and kick about are just fancy names for whining and complaining.

Ironically, I have a complaint or rather an observation.

While I assumed my second trip to India would be as spiritually sound and inspirational as the first one I experienced, I certainly did not expect the result to be what it has manifested itself into. Before I left for India, I was informed by my Reiki Master and Intuitive that my trip to India would not go as planned, that I should not become upset, as we would be exactly where we needed to be in order to cultivate greater compassion. As predicted,  before we ever left for the pilgrimage, things were not running smoothly. From the beginning things were a struggle, why with lost and incorrect identification, to canceled flights, to 1,000 degree heat, to pre-monsoon floods that kept us parked on a six lane highway (which was supposed to be three lanes, but the divider lines on the road mean nothing in India) for hours, to the Bharat Bandh which closed down shops (it was okay, we were out of money anyway, but it kept us hunkered down in our hotel room for a couple of days), and on it went. The entire time I stopped myself from becoming upset and used humor to get through with a positive attitude (when really, I could have just cried so many times). Where was the peace and calm and spiritual advancement I was seeking? Turns out, it was everywhere, even in the most unlikely of places. Growth opportunities are always everywhere, we just don't take the time to see them.

I have this theory that we don't see obstacles as opportunities for growth because we are addicted to being miserable because we, inside, are miserable. Don't you wish all of the "things" we accumulate and work so diligently for could reach out, hug us, and tell us we are perfect just as we are? Things don't do that, so things don't make us happy. We have to make ourselves happy. I am suddenly reminded of this song:



What each of these "obstacles" did for me, was open my eyes and heart to even greater  compassion by looking into the eyes and heart of the everyday Indian people. With these many unplanned chains of events, we were face to face with the poverty (lack of "things") of India, the newspapers, the news on TV, you know, real life sort of stuff, not the hanging out in the Ashram drinking chai tea, practicing yoga, and chanting sort of life I had experience during my first visit in 2007.

Early on in our journey I began watching, making eye contact, being with those who were begging for survival with a smile on their faces. I began listening through the peacefully chaotic sounds of the streets, hearing clearly the joyful singing among the people. The struggle is evident there, but there is an acceptance there also. This is not like Western societies where everything is clean and anything is possible and our accumulation of "things" is the goal.  Sure we have people who struggle in the west and I do believe we need to do a better job of taking care of each other, but what is different, is that the people who do have "it all" aren't happy. So many who have it all are miserable because they have looked for happiness outside of themselves (I know I have and still do sometimes). Furthermore, there is no acceptance because we don't accept others because we are too busy not accepting ourselves.  It really is as simple and as sad as that.

So, I'm not sure where to start, except with myself. I know that I have become more aware of my tendency to complain over silly little things and when I hear people around me do it I want to say,"Look how blessed you are!" It's not easy, we all have our stuff and we all have days nothing goes the way we think it should, but maybe we just aren't looking at things as they truly are? Maybe we need to save our complaints for things that really matter or count our blessings and help those who are struggling through experiences many of us will never know, like the death of a child or a life-threatening illness? Perhaps we can re-direct the energy we use up focusing on "lack" and take action by using the gifts we have in abundance? Helping others is a wonderful way to fill ourselves up along the way.  In any case, we all have bad days and need a friend or two to vent to, but most of us have it pretty good (even with our painful experiences or growing pains).

I have no great insight, no one to quote this time, but I do have this video:

Feeling Significant?

Recently a friend asked me,"Do you feel significant?" I was surprised by her question and she was equally surprised by my answer. "Of course I feel significant, I only feel sad when other people do not accept that my love for them is real," I said.  In this moment I realized just how blessed I am as a human being to feel good about who I am in spite of the things I consider less than appealing about myself. What a blessing it is I treat myself with compassion. While I feel significant, I don't feel any more significant than the next person. All of us have our gifts, our talents, our weaknesses, our light, and our dark. All of us make this world interesting. All of us are other people's teachers. All of us are in this together, or at least we should be.

After I was asked this question, I came across this quote by the Dalai Lama and it struck me as the truth and as the possible solution to this "lack of feeling significant" issue.

"Recently I met a group of scientists in America who said that the rate of mental illness in their country was quite high-around twelve percent of the population. It became clear during our discussion that the main cause of depression was not a lack of material necessities but a deprivation of the affection of the others."

I try diligently to express my love for all beings, even strangers, as often as possible and it's not always easy. Over time I have learned that many people reject my kindness/love because they are suspicious, as I MUST want something in return, or I can't possibly have compassion for everyone. I have also had people turn on me after I have made a perceived mistake (often never really knowing what that mistake was), leaving me devastated, not understanding why they would not accept my kindness/love/compassion as true. My spiritual teacher once told me that people who do not love themselves and who are not kind to themselves can not possibly see this virtue in others. As "they" say, it's rarely ever about you, it is about that person and where they are on their own personal journey.

Then I found this quote that helped me understand why people so easily reject or mistrust those who are kind and who are open to love and compassion:

“It is lack of love for ourselves that inhibits our compassion toward others. If we make friends with ourselves, then there is no obstacle to opening our hearts and minds to others.” ~Author Unknown

Compassion is the desire to help ease other living beings suffering. Compassion for all beings can be developed, but first, it must be embraced from within. For many who have not been shown compassion or who do not believe it exists, this is truly a task to take on.

I leave on Sunday for Northern India for two weeks. The last time I went to India, I felt inspired to create a space to help people heal and that space was a yoga studio. On this next journey, I am not certain what ideas I may walk away with, but this land is the perfect opportunity for me to feed myself so that I may come back practicing even more compassion in my community.


Here is a link to the blog I wrote after my last trip.

Until I Return,

May all sentient beings have equanimity, free from attachment, aggression and prejudice.
May they be happy, and have the causes for happiness.
May they be free from suffering and causes for suffering.
May they never be separated from the happiness that is free from suffering.

Namaste'

Inner Birkenride 2010, Making Peace with Anxiety

Two months before the MS 150 Bike Ride, I bought a bike and began training for the two day, 160 mile bike ride (I wish they would call it the MS 160, but story is, the route changed, just not the name). I knew choosing a ride for charity would inspire me to reach my goal of completing some sort of event where I wore numbers on my body (because how cool is that?) and it did. I raised $1,080.00 for multiple sclerosis, $80 over my goal. Not only did I support those living with MS, I learned a lot about myself along the way.

My female friend T inspired me with her own past riding accomplishments and my male friend T, with years of experience, served as my coach, riding with me at a turtle's pace until I could go it alone. To these two people, I owe an abundance of gratitude and to my husband, I owe even more, because without his competitive spirit, I don't think I would have ever have been so determined to complete this ride in the way that I did.

Before beginning my training, the anxiety I had been living with was almost debilitating. Not many people know the intensity of the anxiety I have battled for years, being that I teach yoga and appear to be so grounded. The truth is, an anxious yoga teacher is simply a contradiction to the stereotype. In any case, I had reached the lowest point I had ever felt before, driven by a constant feeling that the rug was being swept out from underneath me and the constant roller coaster was mostly on the downhill. The asana, pranayama, meditation, and medication were no longer enough and I needed something more. At this point I was seeing a Reiki Master often and she asked,"Do you ride a bike?" Amazed I said,"I just bought one yesterday." She said,"That is going to be good for you." She was correct, it's one of the best things that has ever happened to me and it has changed my life.

After T got me comfortable on my bike, I started training on my own, 30 miles at a time alone, just me and my bike. Some days were easier than others, some seemed more uphill than downhill and some more windy and unyielding, but still, I kept on, alone, by myself, no one watching, receiving no approval or encouragement except for my own. For once in my life, I was enough. I do have to admit, however, I did feel very cool when I saw other riders or was surrounded by traffic.

The morning of the ride I was tired, I hadn't slept, but I was ready. I had all of my gear organized and I was on my way towards the completion of something which required me wearing numbers. My number was 887 and 7 is my favorite number, so I felt things were going to go my way. My friends and I started preparations to leave when I noticed my bike shoes were missing and all I had on were some Birkenstocks from 1993. I raced back to the luggage truck to try and find my black bag amongst the 100's of other black bags that looked just like mine. I selfishly prayed I would find my bag, my heart raced, my limbs started to go numb and I thought,"This can't happen." One of the event organizers said,"Mam, you can just ride tomorrow." I thought, "No, No, NO!" I thought of the people with MS and how some of them can barely move and then I heard my husband's voice,"No way you are actually going to train for this AND complete it." I turned around and male T was standing there and he said,"Well, are you just going to meet us in the middle and ride tomorrow?" I said,"Fuck that shit, I'm riding in my Birkenstocks." No doubt we laughed and no doubt I looked like a total Tool, but I wasn't giving up. Sure, you bet there were comments along the way. My favorite was a man who looked down at my feet and said,"OMG, are those Birkenstocks? I have been riding for 16 years and have NEVER seen that." I rode the first day, 86 miles, in my Birkenstocks, my feet felt great, the Birks survived, and I was proud of myself for sticking it out.


Day two I was even more exhausted and the hills and wind were almost too much. At one point a man came up next to me and he said,"Sit up straight so you can breathe!" I laughed at the irony of someone reminding ME, a yoga teacher, to correct my posture and breathe. I did what he said and managed to get up that hill with still a few curse words to spare for later. By the time we were at the last break point, I had exhausted all of my curse words and it was no longer fun. I just wanted to be finished. The rest of the way I thought about eating something other than power bars, pickle juice, and cookies and I thought even more about those living with MS. When I saw the Finish Line I was excited to see my family and my friend M who's mash-up picture I am posting here. I had crossed a finish line wearing numbers and could check another life goal off of my list.

This journey was an amazing one and the love I have for riding my bike is like breath to me. While my anxiety is still there, it no longer drives me or my actions, as I am in better control. The freedom I feel on my bike reminds me of childhood, an escape into the more playful part of my spirit. My next goal is to ride a Century (100 miles in one day) and who knows, I might even do it in my Birkentocks.

Vatsalyam "A Mother's Love"

Listening to Alicia Key's Superwoman, I retreat to days of living with my beautiful, most fabulous, Superhero of a Mother. Some days I wanted her to go away forever and other days I wanted to crawl onto her lap and never leave.


I'm not sure many people know, or even if my Mother knows, but my Mother gave me permission to fall in love with the ancient practice of Yoga. Coming from Oklahoma, thick in the heart of The Bible Belt, Yoga was top secret stuff and I knew exactly NOBODY practicing yoga back when I received a book in early 1993 from my Mother. That book gave me the permission to explore what I already knew deep in my heart, as a five year old, sitting in the Southern Baptist church pew being told I was imperfect and unworthy of God's love. The name of the book eludes me now, but it catapulted me on the journey of self love and then to the acceptance that I believed differently than most people in my "home" state. With this acceptance and new quest for knowledge, I was truly at home in my heart.

A mother at age 16, my mother always made sure I looked nice, ate well, and performed well in school. Like other kids I had parties, sleep overs, and extra curricular activities such as dance and swimming lessons. I had my first child at age 28 and still, at age 37 I have a hard time getting my kiddos to all of their activities without complaining and I often think of what a hero my mother was to have done all of this at such a young age and I really had no idea at the time. Because my mother was so young, we were often mistaken for sisters and to this day you can see people who meet us for the first time going through the math in their heads when they learn of our ages. In the 70's this was not as acceptable as it is today, but my mother held her head high and forged through making a better life for both of us. My mom and I grew up together and I often joke that I was in college in the late 70's and early 80's. When my mom met the man who would become my father, she asked me for permission to marry him. The only objection I had was the fact that we would have to eat meat more often, other than that, I was down with it. From this Union came two little sisters, two more little girls to cloth, feed, and more working through girl-drama. My mom sacrificed and we all thrived.

My mother is an artist, a chef, a model beauty. My mother is classy, adventurous, but prefers to plant her flowers and stay home awhile. My mother can dance like Tina Turner and make a home comfortable, no matter where it is. My mother is freaking amazing. My mother is just now, with all of her little girls happy and healthy, able to live her life for herself.

So, whenever I touch people with the gift of yoga and they thank me, I have to give props to my mother for giving me the permission to express what was stuffed inside of me until she gave me the book that sent me soaring on my way.

Yoga For Bullies

Had I known how to express Yoga in Kindergarten when I witnessed my first case of bullying, I would have had all eight or so of those little snot-nosed meanies drop and give me 10 Chaturangas, a full blown Ustrasana, and then a mighty Vrksasana while they all held hands and beamed love from their heart chakras towards the six year old they were tormenting. I remember this little boy like it was yesterday. This poor boy smelled like urine, was always dirty, and never said anything. I remember walking into the school to get a drink of water and around the water fountain was a mob of children standing around the water fountain while this poor, very smelly, and very sad little boy towerd above everyone on the stepping stool in order to reach the water spout. He looked so exposed and so vacant. As I walked in all I heard was,"No one will EVER be your friend!" I felt a jolt in my heart and then I heard a voice in my head say,"Don't do it, don't do it, they'll make fun of you too." Then out of my throat chakra I loudly exclaimed,"I"LL BE YOUR FRIEND!" I'm not really sure what happened after that, maybe I just blocked it out of my memory, but I do remember feeling complete compassion for this boy and was insanely proud of myself for doing the "right thing" at the expense of my own Elementary School Experience.

The bullying experience and suicide of Phoebe Prince is one I can relate to, so much so, I've taken myself back to the 8th grade and re-lived the experience in my mind, my heart still remembers the pain, and I still wonder where the compassion was in these people? Like Phoebe, I was the new girl, 15, and popular with the boys. I was called names (yes, even whore and slut just like Phoebe), stolen from, threatened, egged and Oh My the rumors were XXX rated! I'm not really sure how I made it to school each day, except that I had a few really close friends who loved to laugh (laughter makes everything better, it's the Universal band-aid). I would go home every day and cry, not understanding how anyone could treat another person so horribly. I'm not even sure I ever told my parents what was going on, as they had worries of their own. I do remember falling in-love with Norma Jean (Marilyn Monroe) around this time and would listen to the original Candle in the Wind song from Elton John's 1973 Album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Maybe the fact that Norma Jean (That's who she is to me) committed suicide kept me from "going there". I also thought a lot about the little boy from Kindergarten and wondered how horrible things must be for him if it was this bad for me? Surely there were people who had it worse? At least I had friends I could laugh with. At least I felt compassion in my heart, even for my bullies. I did not know it then, but I was already living the philosophy of yoga, the best I could at age 15,and it carried me through. I did not start practicing asana until age 20, but yoga philosophy was already intertwined in my spirit.

Compassion is the expression of the deep understanding that we are all connected and that we belong to each other. Bullying comes in many forms and adults do it just as much as children do, only adults are usually much more subtle and easily rationalize their behavior. I won't even read Gossip Magazines anymore, because, as I mentioned in my recent entry about gossip, it's also a form of bullying.

So, for Phoebe Prince: