The Space Between

Spring is here. Now that we are squarely set in the season, I can admit that I have difficulty with the time just before spring. A time with little definition that stays for far too long after the cold of winter ends. It is that waiting time between seasons, when the chill holds no promise of warm days. We wait for any sign of life to bud from the trees; any hint of growth to break through the hard ground. It is an uneasy phase. Buddhism describes the period between death and rebirth as the Bardo state. It is a suspension between lifetimes, thought to present great opportunity for spiritual growth, but also chance for slipping backward. Does that time between the stillness of winter and the budding of new life in spring offer the same chance for reflection and growth?

During our days in this body, we are visited by times of “bardo”, when our usual way of life is disrupted and the chronology of our days suspends. Death, illness, and loss provide these opportunities for change and growth. Hard as these times are, they are also times when we are most open to new possibilities. If we can learn to sit with the discomfort that often arises from not knowing, we have the chance to start the next phase with greater clarity and strength. If we can sit with the loneliness that arises during these times, we can grow from the pain. We can turn the arrows fired at us into flowers. We can achieve more self-knowledge and realization.

Learn that life is full of discomfort, but that the discomfort is not us.

In yoga class, we breathe in and we breathe out. In between those breaths, there is a moment of suspension. A fraction at the end of each exhale before the new inhale commences. Perhaps a moment that holds a seed of death? Sometimes the teacher will ask us to extend that time between breaths. To suspend after the exhale and, in a small way, create that state of Bardo. To give ourselves the chance to grow just a bit more than we might without the challenge of this discomfort. I find this exercise excruciating. There is nothing familiar. All definition disappears. From that lack of definition, unlimited opportunities arise. Oh, the multitude of lessons this simple exercise can provide if we don’t run away or hide. It is a chance that we can create for ourselves to begin anew over and over again. The space between… is where the magic can happen.

On Being Asked to Write the Focus of the Month

As of this month, Yoga Shanti has opened up the writing of the focus of the month our students as well as our teachers. Margie Bono is one of our regulars at the Sag Harbor studio.

Thoughts of anxiety and trepidation, reminiscent of school day assignments, began filtering into my periphery. You know, the psycho-babble that takes over at the slightest hesitation. The moment you think you’re safe, calm, tucked into the dreamiest shavasana ever—boom, one tiny seemingly insignificant thought sets the overthinking mess of my mind in motion. And then I thought, I can do this! Sure, I’ll try to put some comprehensive thoughts down on paper—I do love to share…

I take every day on the mat as if it were my first. There’s no other way to look at it! No expectations, no disappointments. I am trying to weave this mantra into a basic approach on life… needless to say, some days are better than others!

Yoga Shanti offers so much more than a yoga practice. I truly believe there is a special presence in the studio, elements that go beyond the boundaries of the mat. The people—teachers and students—seem to mesh in an unusual dialogue of mind, body and spirit. I have begun to understand the art of patience, that transitions are so very important, that breath alone can change everything, that we are all connected…

Maybe I’m making this up, but there seems to be an understanding that it’s ok to be who you are when you walk into the studio—whatever that might be, on any given day. As long as you practice within the designated lines, almost all can be forgiven!

The morning mat chat is not to be missed… wars have been stopped (and started), world peace resolved but, most importantly, friendships forged. What happens when you put a group of people from varying backgrounds (philosophical, emotional, physical) in a room on any given weekend, practicing mat to mat with 70 of your nearest and dearest fellow yogis? Magic!!

I am honored to be a part of this special space, artfully carved into the Sag Harbor community, which in and of itself reflects and respects our individuality.

Thank you for taking the time to read this… now it’s time to take another breath…

Namaste!

Free Will

Free Will… Is it a blessing or a curse?

It is said that inherent in being human, setting us apart from other living creatures, is a phenomenon called “free will”.

And so I question how free are we? And, if indeed we are free, is this freedom a blessing or a curse?

I‘m very curious about pairing these words ”free” and “will” together since, by definition, each word could be interpreted as the other’s opposite or the term could be considered an oxymoron.

So perhaps, when entertaining the conversation of free will being a blessing or curse, the answer lies in the question itself. Yes, it is “both/and”.

When one becomes a prisoner in their monkey mind of rumination or stuck in thought patterns; free will may not be so free. With no direction and too many options to choose from, this freedom may be considered a curse.

It may be considered a blessing when one is able to use their will to direct or focus their thoughts. One might then be able to have more freedom and perceived control of his/her life and live by the words “change your thoughts, change your life.”

How does one go about doing this?

Perhaps by honoring “being” human”/ human being.

Loving the pairing of these two words, I try to start my day by bringing the two together and living from the “both/and” perspective with a morning practice. It begins with a simple prayer of gratitude as soon as I open my eyes of “Thank You, God”.

I then get out of bed, into the bathroom, splash some cold water on my face to make sure I’m still alive and in this form called body, and I continue in prayer. Taken from a Course in Miracles, I ask :

“Where would you have me go?”

“What would you have me do?”

“What would you have me say?”

“And to whom?”

Then I listen.

I find it easier to focus on listening by writing. I understand my hands to be an extension of my heart and appreciate the joy of listening with my heart.

I use a notebook opened to both pages. On the right side of the page, I allow words and designs to flow free style. I consider it to be the “downloading” of the Spirit.

On the left page, I use two columns called “to do”/“to be,” respectively.

I try to find a word that might be the right container for the downloads; like a box of understanding. I just let it be, without editing, and then go on to the next step of my morning practice. It could be reading an inspirational poem or article, speaking to my prayer partner, or asana practice/meditation on my yoga mat.

Whatever the form takes, I start the day by “Grounding myself in Spirit”.

Sounds like another oxymoron? Perhaps.

Some of my favorite teachers are oxymorons!

From here, the rest of my day is about “doing”. (The human part.)

I’ve grown to listen to Spirit continually throughout the day by hearing the song of my soul with the rhythm of my breath. From “Inspiration to Action”, I try to walk along the day’s path with beauty and grace. I follow my breath and try to be happy for where I am at any given moment. I try to keep my thoughts in the background, being kind in the foreground. It is a day-by-day practice; moment-by-moment and breath-by-breath.

Gratitude Stacking

“We can’t choose what happens to us, but we can change how we choose to receive our experience.” This quote resonates with me because it serves as a reminder that we have the power to shift our attitude. Even from difficult situations, we can learn something powerful and maybe even find something we are grateful for. Gratitude can shift the energy of your mind and body to help cultivate feelings of balance and peace, making you more resilient to stress.

I started regularly practicing yoga as a freshman in college. My first yoga teacher was a senior who taught a free class on Wednesday nights in the dorm lounge. At the end of each class she would instruct us to send gratitude to our body, for everything it does for us each day. I would quietly thank my body, but I never put much thought into why I was grateful.

Spring semester of my sophomore year had just begun and I felt tired and thirsty. I could barely sit through the first day of class. I spent my day running back and forth between the water fountain and the bathroom. Later that night my roommate brought me to the emergency room and I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune condition where your body attacks the insulin-producing cells in your pancreas. Without insulin, our bodies cannot use the sugar in our bloodstream as energy. People with type 1 diabetes must inject insulin into their body every day to regulate blood sugar and stay alive. It was at this moment I realized how much our bodies do for us to keep us healthy. I understood my first yoga teacher’s emphasis on gratitude and her lesson not to take for granted our body’s capacity to care for itself.

After my diagnosis, I started incorporating gratitude into my daily life. It helped me realize how lucky we are to experience life, how fragile our lives actually are and how quickly they can change. Being diagnosed as a college student was challenging because I had to learn a new way of relating to my body and caring for myself while trying to keep up with my school work and activities. Expressing gratitude helped me get over the fear of living with a pancreas that does not fully function and find forgiveness for a body that needs extra help caring for itself.

The shift that practicing gratitude creates is that it helps you find joy, pleasure, optimism and compassion in your everyday life. It encourages you to notice things that are often taken for granted. Listing a few things you are grateful for each day cultivates awareness of the things happening around you that bring value to your life. “Gratitude is affirming the goodness in one’s life and recognizing that its source is outside the self,” says Robert Emmons, the world’s leading expert on gratitude.

Recently, I’ve incorporated gratitude stacking into my yoga practice. At the beginning of my practice, I come to a comfortable seated position and close my eyes. I become aware of my breathing, noticing each inhale and exhale. Then I place one hand over my heart, the other over my stomach. Breathing in and out, being aware of my abdomen rising and falling as I breathe, I turn my attention inward and start to share with myself things I am grateful for. “I am grateful for my health, for the insulin that keeps me alive, for my boyfriend, the students in my yoga class, for the sun as it shines through the window. What do I have in my life right now for which I feel grateful?” I continue to list things for ten or so breaths. This practice of gratitude stacking grounds me in the present moment by focusing on my breath. It also allows me to take time to reflect on the things I have in my life that bring me joy and make me who I am.

#nothingisordinary: A Love Letter to Asana

#nothingisordinary: I’ve been using this hashtag a lot lately in my Instagram account. I like it because it speaks to a central experience of awareness: every living thing is absolutely unique. There is not and never can be a single exception to this rule: the sparrow that pecks at my bird feeder is as non-repeatable as the chihuahua sleeping by my feet or the tree I photographed yesterday. I would know my daughter by the shape of her left ear. Everything in nature (prakriti) is as non-replicable and non-replaceable as you are; no more and certainly no less. Nature has made a heavy investment in your uniqueness: millions of years of evolution have come together to form the nexus of miraculous wonder that is you, and your beautifully particular constellation will never grace the world again.

Yet it’s so easy to forget this in our everyday life. We become fond of our opinions and viewpoints. We get ensnared in dualistic thinking: we want to be right, so we assert our ideas, argue about them and squander our energy trying to get others to agree with us. So much human discourse is about defending our territory! We tend to forget that these territorial boundaries are all part of a self-made and illusory map, all samsara. And, ultimately, they make us small.

I love asana because it invites us into a space where dualistic boundaries fall away and we enter the paradox of the non-dual. In asana practice, we get to be both the observer and the observed, the field and the knower of the field (purusha), the hawk gliding through the sky and the sky itself, the breather and that which is being breathed. As we pin our attention with loving detail to the living form we inhabit, we learn to expand into the wider miracle of our being. That miracle resides in the movement of our muscles, the pull of apana in the bones and the rise of prana in our breath-stream, but it doesn’t end there. The concentration we bring to the body in every moment of asana flips our experience of it inside out until we can no longer say just where it/we begin and end.

For me, this is the greatest of the many gifts offered by asana practice. I get to step outside my small, constrained, self-protective self and sometimes glimpse, for the briefest of moments, the boundless Self that merges with all existence.

If we’re paying attention, we might even get to “touch life as it is arising” and see the whole of our being for the unified, fluid, co-existent miracle that it is. (Rodney Yee: Yoga the Gift of Life.)

So each time you get on your mat, you’re knocking on the door to the miraculous. #nothingisordinary about that.

I love you, asana ❤️

Practice on.

The Teachings, Not the Teacher

We gathered shoulder-to-shoulder in a circle, the constellation of the Costa Rican sky above, the sand under our feet, a burning fire before us. The shaman instructed us to blow on a wooden stick and toss it into the fire as an offering to burn our teachers.

Burn our teachers? Images of The Crucible began to dance in my brain. I love my teachers, even the ones I don’t like. Their wise, nurturing guidance on my yoga path has sustained and inspired me for the past 20 years. Studying with many masters of different lineages has been an honor and a privilege, one that I am not apt to surrender into the burning pyre. And yet, the ritual presents us with a higher purpose in this metaphorical offering. We are invited to surrender the glorification of the teacher, so we are left with the purity of the teaching. The teacher is a guide, a transmitter of the ancient yogic teachings.

Colleen and Rodney define yoga as inquiry. As much as their brilliance dazzles or soothes, they are interpreters leading us through hundreds of years of tantra, sutras and vedas, defining, refining and evolving them for relevance. As students we are called to use the teachings for our own self-study, svadhyaya.

As a teacher, I am humbly aware that every time I offer a practice of asana, pranayama or meditation, I am in service to the teachings, the alchemy that comes from my life experience as mother, wife, daughter, sister, seeker. May we continue to serve the teachings as we shed the lionization of the messenger for the pure love of the yogic inquiry.

Light

I got to spend Thanksgiving with my goddaughter, her husband and their 3-month old baby. At the end of the weekend, they were talking about how excited they were to go Christmas tree shopping. A huge part of their excitement was recognizing how mesmerized the baby was going to be by the tree and its lights. While I think both of them are brilliant, this wasn’t exactly a brilliant observation. The kid is mesmerized by absolutely everything, truly the beginner’s mind.

This made me think about our own fascination with light. Every spiritual practice refers to light, to seeing the light, to becoming enlightened. As we approach the Winter Solstice, the darkest longest days, celebrations of light and the return of the sun abound in every culture. From the ancient Romans to Japanese, Chinese, and Middle Eastern cultures, fires are lit to ward off the darkness and to celebrate the return of the sun, the return of longer days, the return of light.

I like this quote from James Turell, “In a way, light unites the spiritual world and the ephemeral, physical world. People frequently talk about spiritual experiences using the vocabulary of light: Saul on the road to Damascus, near-death experiences, Samadhi or the light-filled void of Buddhist enlightenment.

Our physical yoga practice offers us the opportunity to recognize the return of the sun on a daily basis. We practice Surya Namaskar, literally saluting the sun. This is more than just a warm up, although it does bring heat and light into the body, it is a way for us to recognize that we are connected to and a part of the Universe and all its machinations.

Our asana practice can offer another way to connect to light as well. As a teacher, I see it all the time when a student learns something new or is able to do something they hadn’t been able to do before. Using their own body as a tool and their practice, I watch the light bulb turn on, they “see the light.” While this is a somewhat superficial interpretation, it is a step on the path to awareness, to illumination and is an example of how light unites the spiritual and physical worlds.

Years ago, I was stepping out of my apartment building on a rainy morning along with my neighbor. As we both opened our umbrellas he said, “Ah, the rain falls on the just and the unjust.” I loved it and took it to mean that, when it comes down to it, we are all in the same boat. The same is true for the light. It is the same light here as it is there. If we can tap into our own beginner’s mind, we can see that the light unites us all. We are all the same.

Attitude of Gratitude

If you had told me a year ago that I would be writing the Focus of the Month for the Yoga Shanti newsletter, my response would have been, “Get outta town!” Yet, here I am, doing just that. No, I cannot quote yoga sutras and give you words of wisdom, but I will share some of the experiences and discoveries I’ve had since I’ve come to Yoga Shanti.

Back in April, I came on board as the new manager of the Sag Harbor studio. I had no prior experience running a yoga studio, but I’ve had plenty of other business experience over the years working in finance and running restaurant kitchens. I thought “How difficult could it be?”

Surprise! In my first week alone, I was reduced to tears. I was bamboozled with trying to memorize a zillion student names, learning a new computer system, dealing with MindBody and customer accounts, finding last-minute substitute teachers, responding to a barrage of emails, dealing with emergency locksmiths, purchasing props, cleaning blankets, editing the newsletter, doing the bookkeeping and so on. A hundred times a day I asked myself, “What the heck did I get myself into?” A former Yoga Shanti manager, upon hearing my plight, informed me, “Theresa, this is not a job. It’s a lifestyle!” Boy, how right she was!

Amidst the maelstrom, I had one anchor in the sea of insanity at work each day and that was the chance to jump into yoga classes. It was delicious to have 60 or 90 minutes to “zone out” and not have to think at all. Tentatively, I started to take classes as if I was gingerly sticking my toe in to test the waters. Yoga wasn’t totally new to me but I hadn’t regularly practiced in almost 25 years. I used to frequent a little studio on Staten Island at the edge of New York Harbor where I could lay in savasana and hear the ferry fog horns and the clanging of the buoys. The passage of time, however, was none too kind to me, physically-speaking, with the jelly rolls, the stiff and creaky bones and the loss of flexibility. Most of all, I had completely lost my ability to balance which, I believed, was merely a reflection of my mental state. My mind could not be stilled, it could not focus. It just raced from one thing to another and, try as I might, I couldn’t lasso it in.

While at the studio, I came to know the many students who religiously came to class each day, despite busy schedules, inclement weather, sickness, physical injuries and personal obligations. Some students even came twice a day. I watched the beginners’ club members, so dedicated and enthusiastic, and the 8:00 am crew who you could count on to show up like the rising of the sun. Don’t even get me started on all the wonderful teachers. I would try their different classes like I was sampling a smorgasbord. I gleaned a precious morsel from each one of them.

In retrospect, six months and 100 yoga classes later, I notice a gradual change, a shift. Physically, I feel like I’ve grown two inches taller. I find space in my body where there was none before, as well as increased strength and flexibility. Don’t get me wrong, I still have far to go. Tree pose is daunting and I fall out of it every time. I can’t do a chaturanga to save my life. But that’s ok. I just keep plugging at it. One day, it may come. If it doesn’t, that’s ok, too.

With that attitude, I note, more importantly, a shifting in my mind – an acceptance of things as they are right here, right now. There is the beginning of a mindfulness, a new-found patience, an appreciation of every little thing – even if it’s something as mundane as folding the studio blankets or, for that matter, something as basic as drawing breath. It’s amazes me how, for years, I’ve only breathed “from the neck up”, never taking the time to actually inhale deeply and exhale with satisfaction. At times, I confess, I’ve even caught myself with a peaceful and quiet mind –not racing around like it usually does. I can relish silence rather than be fearful of it. Has yoga taught me all that? I don’t know…perhaps…or perhaps it’s just that yoga puts you in that mental state where you can be open to all things. It’s amazing how many times people have crossed my desk saying “Yoga has changed my life.” Now, I can believe it! This is just the tip of the iceberg. Who knows the lifetime of lessons yoga can bring?

One of my favorite parts of class is when a teacher says, “Take time now to dedicate your practice.” Wow! What a beautiful thought! To think that we can give something back for all the good we receive. Whether you believe in the power of prayer or of raising your mind and heart to a higher consciousness or of just sending good energy out into a world so desperately in need of it, I’m gladdened by the notion that, by dedicating your practice, you can bring somebody or something some good.

So, this Thanksgiving, at the risk of sounding sentimental, I will have an attitude of gratitude. I am very grateful for my beautiful daughter, Lucia; my family; my home; my job; my bosses; my chance to practice yoga – for all the blessings in my life. Also, I am grateful to you all – you students and teachers who continue to inspire and encourage me each and every day. This Thanksgiving, I dedicate my practice to you.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your families!

Namaste!

Theresa

Mindfulness

Do you ever find yourself feeling that there is too much going on in your life? You are caught up in trying to accomplish all you need to do, while still adding more to your “to do” list? It’s easy to slip into that mode, especially in the fall season, that time of the year when we reorganize, getting back into our routine after summer vacation.

Recently, I have been feeling overwhelmed with everything going on in my life. Transitioning from summer to begin a full year of studying functional medicine health coaching (which will eat up a significant chunk of my time), has me wondering, “OK… am I spreading myself too thin? Am I pushing myself too far?” I was overcome with panic, which I didn’t like at all. A friend reassured me, “You’ll see, a year goes super-fast”! But his words had me conjure up the image of a hamster running endlessly on a wheel.

You see, I was feeling overwhelmed because I was looking at the big picture, the goal, the end results and all I needed to do to reach my destination a year from now. My anxiety and tension were depriving me of the pleasure of being open and engaged in my new endeavor. More importantly, it prevented me from being present in the “now”.

I found a strong need to find balance between my work and self-care. I questioned how I could find that balance. The answer struck me: By practicing mindfulness and conscious presence in everything I do. But, is that even possible?

First, I decided to experiment with my yoga practice. I have been doing yoga for over 20 years and, the fact that it is constantly changing and transforming, should help me to be in the moment. So, I used my yoga practice to help me be fully engaged in the present. I concentrated not on the poses but on the transitioning, the journey from one pose to another. Soon, my anxiety and tension morphed into a sort of game of trying to be in the moment in whatever I did. Whether I was practicing or teaching yoga, studying, conversing with a friend, cooking a meal, listening to music, I played this game of challenging myself to be fully present. I began to feel relief and a real sense of accomplishment in whatever I did. That feeling of running like a hamster on a wheel vanished completely.

Discovering that my yoga practice is a precious ally is really comforting. Rediscovering its power to ground is like finding a refuge where I can be at ease and fully connected. This is what the practice of yoga gives us – a sense of embodiment of the present, allowing parts of ourselves to connect with breath and movements mindfully. The next time you practice, try paying more attention in between poses. What is most important? The destination, the end results of a pose or the journey and the exploration of it?

For me, it’s like traveling to a charted destination. Just focus on the journey, the landscape, the parts in between, every detail. Stop and smell the roses. Really be present in the action of traveling, enjoy the process, avoid those impatient “are we there yet” moments.

We all have our challenges and transition periods in life—some are more stressful than others. The way we experience those challenges and transitions are unique and precious to each of us. Learning how to be fully in the experience may combat the harmful stressors in life and be a key to open the way to a more balanced and healthy lifestyle.

As my very first Yoga teacher use to say: “Have Courage!” Training ourselves to be truly engaged in our unpleasant as well as pleasant experiences in life requires diligence and courage. I’d also like to add: Find pleasure in everything you do. Enjoy! Really be present in the journey. Don’t worry! You’ll reach your destination—we all do, one way or another!

Namaste!

Openness/Overcoming Fear

I recently encouraged a student to try an arm balance. She was hesitant. When I asked her why, she said, “I’m afraid to try it.” The posture—visvamitrasana—requires stability and openness, and is complex in the type of preparation that is required for even the most advanced practitioner. The student told me, “I am flexible but not very strong.” She had become so attached to these labels of herself that she was limiting her practice. Clinging had created a boundary of fear.

At Yoga Shanti, we are encouraged to practice and teach the concept of any amount, which means listening to one’s body without pushing or forcing ourselves into something. But there is an important distinction between the boundaries that we set out of mindfulness and the boundaries that we set out of clinging to our fears. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken. Sometimes we need to test the ideas that we have about ourselves in order to flex our fearlessness muscles. This is what it means to be truly open. As the brilliant Pema Chodron has written, “Openness doesn’t come from resisting our fears but from getting to know them well.”

The cool thing about working with students repeatedly is that eventually I will have observed their practices long enough to recognize their blind spots, allowing me to serve as a mirror. I am not telling them what I think their blind spots are but, rather, holding space for them to test theories, take risks or try something new. Often times, this means I need to physically assist them. A sense of humor also helps. Most importantly, the encouragement needs to come from a place of warmth and care. Through repeated practices together, there is the potential to build a relationship of trust, and that’s when the real magic happens in a yoga class.

The student eventually did attempt visvamitrasana, albeit a modified version. When I asked her how she felt afterward, she looked at me, smiled and replied, “I feel great!”

Yoga doesn’t always have to be serious. It can be playful. You can break rules. When we allow ourselves to face our fears on the mat, we are strengthening our courage in our everyday lives. The result could be more openness, confidence and compassion for those around us who push our buttons, because we are better able to recognize our own fears in their behavior. The secret is to keep showing up and, hopefully, get to know your teachers and fellow students.

Yoga Shanti Tribeca is officially open. Come play with us. Our space is small but our community is warm, and I feel blessed knowing I am surrounded by teachers who lead with incredible knowledge and grace.

In peace,
Alex