Kripalu-versary: Day 4

Tuesday, October 25, 2011 in Kripalu, Yoga | Tags: , , , | 5 comments

Five years ago on this day, 65 Kripalu YTT students stood on our mats inside Shadowbrook and just did our own thing. Our 6:30 a.m. class was termed “personal sadhana,” meaning we were to lead ourselves through our own private practice. Sixty-five of us stood on our mats and breathed, each of us doing a completely different practice. Some started with Breath of Joy, some with hara breaths, some kapalabhati. M did a headstand; a threesome in front went into kapotasana all together, and the girl next to me did a vigorous ashtanga practice.

I started off slow, physically and mentally. Tired. Stiff. Slow. I did several pratapana exercises, but I couldn’t break into my own rhythm. I kept thinking as though I were leading a class–what would I do next? What should follow this, and how do I get there? It was hard not to look around and see what others were doing. Being next to M was good, a challenge, because she was doing the primary series. I kept thinking, “I can do that! I can do padagusthasana and marichyasana A, B, C, D…I can do that, too!” But I didn’t want to do those things then and there. I was tired and stiff and still waking up. I liked my own pace. But..but…I can do that, too! I can do bakasana, seriously! I just don’t want to do it now.

It took time, but I finally found my flow, probably when I did a downdog into low lunge. I lifted my arms in my dancer-like fashion, and finally I felt free. But I learned it’s hard for me to be me. I always have the desire to be someone else. But for the final 30-40 minutes of class, I finally found me. She felt good. I felt good. Hot. Tapas. Me.

***

Expansive. That is the word S uses to describe the outdoors, the vast land of cool air, fiery colors, dark heavy clouds, and sunlight that greets us like a living painting every morning after sadhana. You walk outside the Shadowbrook studio and see it–the outside–right in front of you. It’s hard to just ignore the glass doors and bypass it. Many of us flock outside the minute we put on our shoes at 8:01 or 8:05. We come from a warm, insulated cocoon to this amazing, breathing, revitalizing environment–expansive.

There is a world outside of here–trees glowing from the sun’s peeking smile, a shimmering lake, rolling clouds that look like they could bring rain any minute. We stand there en masse, soaking it in. Breathing it in, even if it stings our lungs. J emerges from inside and yells, “Good morning, Kripalu!!” except with his accent, it comes out Crip-a-loo. It’s daring to be so “loud” outside, but we all smile at his enthusiasm.

***

The morning lesson is focused on anatomy, tendons and ligaments and nerve versus muscular tension. “The word pain is like the word snowflake,” Rudy says. “There are so many kinds of them.” I learn that the anatomical name for our butt (sitz) bones is ischial tuberosities. We review the six movements of the spine. We go over some pratapana (warm-up) exercises and then at the end of class pair up with a partner and lead them through some pratapana, our first stab at practice teaching. Mine does not go so well.

I need to stop acting like someone else and start being me, I write in my journal. I led the practice teach like [one of my yoga teachers from home], like someone I’m not. I need to be me. Stop copying. Stop being uncomfortable in your own skin.

***

The afternoon lesson is centered around the warrior postures, and we break down every move step by step. Tuck tailbone under. Lightly draw in abdomen. Core stabilization.

***

Our afternoon sadhana is led by Grace, and she uses lots of analogies from nature to guide us through the class. During vrksasana, we move our hands through the chakras, starting at the root with our hands in prayer and rising up slowly to our temples. I experience a very powerful, intense energetic reaction to this deliberate movement. This is what many YTTers label as “a Kripalu moment”:

Vibrating right leg–tingling, shaking, throbbing with energy and vitality. This needs to get out! I’m feeling every hair on my arm and chest tingle, rise, like static electricity, like there is a magnet above me. Every single hair, follicle, tingling–the sensation is overwhelming. So much feeling up my arms, rising energy, rising like the tree. Arms danced, fluid, drawn by an aura of energy and color around me, magnet, heavy light heat, hot, hot, palms sweating, heat.

In savasana, feeling the release, the blanket against every body part–soft, comforting, nurturing blanket. Comfort, support, love. Cry, cry, cry. Sitting up in sukhasana, trembling, needed more release, insulation, hug. I feel a gentle, loving touch on my right thigh, like a grandmother’s touch. Lose it. Cry. Blanket. Still trembling on my right, hence the sloppy writing. [Author’s note: My handwriting was awful at this point in the journal entry.]

After class, I find out that three other girls experienced the tingly arm hair thing, too. Grace attributes it to the mega-release of energy we were building up during our opening hara exercises.

***

Namaste: I bow to the light and the shadow within you (because darkness is as important as the light).

Kripalu-versary: Day 3

Monday, October 24, 2011 in Chanting, Food, Kripalu, Yoga | Tags: , , , | 2 comments

Five years ago on this day, I woke up for a 6:30 a.m. yoga class led by one of our Kripalu YTT assistants, Roger.

Silly Roger, with the braids

He’s on the silly side, and during spinal rocks along the floor, he tells us, “[This movement] is only called ‘advanced’ because you have to have the mentality of a 5-year-old.” Another quote that makes us chuckle: “Lift your front toes…(pauses)…as opposed to your back toes, that is.” Roger shares some yoga wisdom with us:

• “We tend to tell ourselves that standing on one leg is natural, the easiest thing to do…. When you fall out of a balance posture, explore. Go into a different pose before coming back into balance.”

• Instead of hold utkatasana in its normal form, we do the “utkatasana dance,” holding the intense leg posture but being free in the upper body, moving freely, dancing the arms. It gives the pose a paradoxical feel: the intense, demanding base, but liquid, flowing upper body.

• “Blossom the buttocks” during downdog.

***

Morning. Outside is gorgeous. I feel like I’m in another country. How can I go back home, to light pollution, suburban sprawl, theft, crime, hatred, paranoia? Kripalu is starting the reversal of the mental asylum. The people here aren’t mental–we’re sharing, kind, conservative, conscious, honest, compassionate, yet we’re the ones locked inside this former monastery. The NEW mental asylum is the one OUTSIDE, on the streets, the people outside our enclosed little world. Yes, we’re shuffling around in slippers and wearing our little nametags, but we’re not insane. We’re sane, lucid, in touch with ourselves and others.

Breakfast, to the sounds of Barber’s Adagio for Strings. Cereal with walnuts, raisins, and banana; frittata with broccoli, spinach, cheese, egg, potato. Brown rice. Raspberry gluten-free cake.

***

We chant Ganesha Sharanam, “I bow to the remover of obstacles.”

Ganesh, remover of obstacles

We move from slow to fast to hyper to slower to slow and then to profound. After the smiling and laughing, we put on blindfolds and explore our “sacred space,” walking through the room, using only touch to lead us past our classmates. We reach out for the first person we feel, and then we talk with our hands. So intimate, such an experiment in touch as a tool, learning when to touch longer and deeper, when to withdrawal and pull back, determining whether the person responds with “invitation or aversion.”

***

At night, we do japa meditation with our mala beads. Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya. I honor/make myself receptive to light/great spirit. 108 times.

***

Our teachers demonstrate a Stage 3 posture flow. It is too intimate for words. At times, I feel like I am invading someone’s privacy. It’s sensual, sexual, almost. I watch the loss of control into ecstasy. I cannot write. I cannot sit here like a news reporter and take notes on such a sacred and profane moment. I watched Megha, Rudy, Jurian, and Roger in their posture flow and was nearly moved to tears. It was like watching someone make love. At times I had to look away because I didn’t want to intrude on such a private moment.

When I do the posture flow, I am somewhat inhibited. I allow myself to listen to my body, but I know there is still resistance, the need for others’ approval. Before I even started my own posture flow, I had the intention of pleasing the teachers. So I ended up doing the flow at 98%, doing what my body prompted me to do, but also 2% aware that others were watching and that I had to be conscious of performing for them in the process. However, my experience was exhilarating. I remember lunging into a low warrior–very deep–and doing something cool with my arms. I remember forgetting.

When I finish the flow and become still, something hits me. I feel alone, like a spotlight is shining only on me.

A bit of a background first: Ever since I came here, I’ve had very vivid images dance in my head when I close my eyes. For example, when in a flowing posture, like standing forward bend or bridge, I’d close my eyes and see random snapshots of people–all Kripalu people. I’ll close my eyes at night or during savasana and see quick flashes of people in bandanas, people with shawls, smiling, happy, introspective, compassionate Kripalu people, like I’m looking in a photo album (in fast forward) of all the residents here. However, there are times (usually during chanting, centering, pranayama, and sometimes during certain poses) that I close my eyes and see us all as a unified group. Amazingly synchronized. Holding hands, or arms raised, our mouths open in Om. I see our group, our tribe, together. So tight, as One.

So, that said, at the conclusion of the posture flow, I was aware that I had cheated myself out of the full experience. But my wisdom reminded me of my mistake, because as I rolled up into thunderbolt pose and sat to integrate the moment, a new image came to my head. I didn’t see the group so beautiful as a whole. I didn’t see random Kripalu faces. I suddenly saw (mostly felt, though) ME and only me. My vision was this:

Me in the Shadowbrook studio, under a harsh spotlight, everyone else lost in the shadows, not even there. The perimeter was dark, shadows, cold, and then me, under this judging light. I tried to push it away at first (I wanted my group!), but I Watched and Allowed and explored. The image stayed with me, and suddenly the feeling hit me: You need to work for yourself. You need to stop performing, being on stage. Stop working for approval.

I started to cry lightly. I put my hands to my face and cried more. I went into child’s pose and sobbed. The group chanted Om three times and I sobbed more and more, audible now. Tissue-needing crying. The sound comforted me; it helped me. I saw warm light, a pulsing “movement”in my head. It felt very warm and nice. I felt like everyone was Om’ing just for me. Stop performing. Start being, Jen.

***

J and I were co-listening partners. We were both moved and crying. J talked first about her experiences, and I was not a very neutral listener. I kept crying and wanted to reach out and hug her. When I spoke to J, although internally my feelings were muddled, I spoke very clearly about my experiences. So cathartic. We shared a long, deep hug afterward. (However, now I’m wondering whether the vision I had was a positive one, maybe affirming that my posture flow was for myself and not a group act. Is that why the group vanished? Was my flow an act/show, or a breakthrough?)

***

We all observe that we smell like food all the time. The cafeteria is everywhere, in our hair, on our shirts, in our pants. We are frittatas, we are miso soup and tofu. We are bloated and gassy. Whole grains and roughage and legumes have made us heavy and uncomfortable. We hurt during twists. We are afraid to fart when our classmates faces’ are inches from out butts.

Kripalu-versary: Day 2

Sunday, October 23, 2011 in Kripalu, Meditation, Yoga | Tags: , | 5 comments

Five years ago on this day, I woke up on the bottom bunk inside a dormitory made for 20.

I had gone to bed around 11 the night before, after showering. There is a girl in the program, M, who’s a “star newbie” like me. She was so upset and broke down in the bathroom. Another girl, a volunteer at Kripalu, stood there on the tiles, barefoot, comforting M, explaining that this is a safe zone, that it’s OK to cry here. I tried to help M too, but in fact I am also petrified. One month.

Everyone’s personal alarm clocks broke the silence of the early morning, going off at 5:30, 5:32, 5:40. Morning sadhana starts in the pre-dawn dark, with hip openers, spinal twists. So easy and so refreshing. When we emerge from savasana the sun is dawning and filling Shadowbrook with a natural light. We Om three times, and that was exhilarating.

***

Breakfast is eaten in silence, just classical music playing softly, and cling-clang of the silverware and dishes. I eat millet cereal with walnuts, raisins, rice milk. Green tea, fake coffee, brown rice, a hard-boiled egg. No one to chit-chat with; just time to collect my thoughts. I’m not quite at home yet, but they’re making it easy.

***

After eating, I see the outside for the first time since arriving yesterday afternoon. Cold, clear, clouds swirling over the mountains. Falls colors everywhere. I smile.

The second I open that glass door and feel that air on my face, see those clouds, I smile. It’s OK to smile here. Smile, cry, hug…it’s all welcome.

Our first morning session. In my journal, (Author’s Note: after a now-forgotten prompt) I write:

Connection. Guidance. Wholeness. Clarity. Real self. No false self. Clear. Wisdom. Outreach. Compassion. For myself and others. No cobwebs of embarrassment, shame, guilt. Just clear me.

We dance to warm up. We do the Shiva dance, shake our butts. There is noise. Sound. Smiling!

***

Lunch is coconut milk and yam soup, stir fry, brown rice, sesame ginger tofu. So filling, hearty, made with love. I dunk my instant Folgers bag in a cup of hot water.

***

Outside, it is cold. Very cold. The rain that falls feels almost like sleet. But the colors! It’s a painting. The whole mountain to our right is a painting of orange and yellow. It’s so still. The wind makes the canopy above me flap. The little birds gather on the wrought-iron trellis.

Being comfortable is essential, encouraged here. Get a blanket. Or two. Sit on a blanket. Wrap a blanket around you. Wiggle. Squirm. Stretch. Shift your legs. Get up and shake it out.

***

(Author’s note. Intense post-meditation writing follows.) Afternoon sadhana. Each time we chant Om or bow to each other and say Jai Bhagwan, it’s more spiritual, deeper, profound. I am on the edge of bawling right now, the effect of a fiery, vigorous, Stage 3-infused sadhana followed by a lengthy, warm, deep savasana. I lay there with a cushion under my knees, a blanket draped over my entire body, and I felt take care of, like I was in a hospital. This is a hospital. Soul doctors. Doctors of soul.

I envision so many people during meditation, various poses and dances and faces and our entire group moving in and out of postures. I saw this group as One, this tribe they speak of. I didn’t see abilities or personalities, just a massive collection of power, all of us together as One. It was beautiful, a once-scrambled jigsaw puzzle finally complete and together, interlocked. Side by side. No longer individual pieces, just a beautiful creation–a flower, Big Ben, Mickey Mouse, whatever. We were finally One. No pieces missing.

***

Dinner is lentil soup, vegetarian lasagna, butternut squash, green beans, cauliflower, garlic bread. I sit with M and S. We talk about mountains and children’s and senior yoga.

Kripalu-versary: Day 1

Saturday, October 22, 2011 in Kripalu, Yoga | Tags: , | 12 comments

Five years ago on this day, I packed a month’s worth of black yoga pants, long-sleeved tees, and sports bras and headed to the Berkshires in Massachusetts for the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health’s 200-hour yoga teacher training monthlong intensive.

I had been counting down the days until Bryan and I took off for the 4.5-hour car ride from New Jersey, eager to spend my mornings and nights om’ing and downdogging. I sat nervously in the car as we headed north, the trees along the highway getting thinner and more bare, the bright and fiery red, orange, and yellow leaves gradually shifting into more browns and naked branches as approached the Massachusetts state line. Every time we stopped the car to stretch our legs, the air that hit our face felt cooler than it did at the last stop.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot in front of Kripalu’s main building, I burst into tears and sob into Bryan’s sweatshirt, feeling like a youngster being dropped off for her first day of kindergarten.

When I check in, I get a nametag that has a star on it. I later find out the star designates me as a “newbie,” someone who’s never been to Kripalu before. Those without stars are like the 6th graders of elementary school. The do not cry when they walk into the lobby for the first time, and they walk around campus with their heads high, secure, smiling. They are adjusted. I only know one other person here, but not very closely. When Bryan leaves to head back home, I feel utterly and completely alone and begin to regret my decision to stay here for a month.

***

It’s a bit like college at Kripalu, I notice. People walk around in slippers, barefoot, wearing robes, shawls, dreadlocks, bandanas, do-rags. Our dorm door does not lock, everything is Open. People leave their yoga mat, shoes, whatever outside the rooms and alongside their bed without fear of it being stolen. It’s safe here.

At 4:15, I take a gentle yoga class with Evelyn. She reiterates the obvious, in a good way. I am speaking. There is noise below us. The heat is coming out of the vents. The soft music is playing. You are here.

You.Are.Here.

I come in and out of crying. I close my eyes for the first half of class and realize I am trying to hide the fact that I’m here, away from home. When I first open my eyes and see the ceiling, the giant stained glass Om symbol, I am lost, scared. By the end of savasana, however, the lost feeling is slowly fading.

***

Cell phones are not permitted in Kripalu’s common areas, and I must use the luggage room to call Bryan. I am told there is a lights-out rule in the dorm rooms by 10 p.m. Crazy rules that would seem absurd at home are completely reasonable here.

***

Tension. I am still scared, even after gentle yoga and talking with Bryan. My jaw is tight, my eyes burn with residual tears, I cannot relax. Every moment is awkward, from figuring out when I should shower, where to get coffee, when to use the gym.

Dinner that night is warm and nourishing. Country fried tofu, salad, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, organic bread, soup, orange juice.

***

The training program officially begins that night, after dinner. Our facilitators are Megha (vibrant! energetic! bold!) and Rudy (soft, subtle, gentle). We sit in a circle, say our names, where we’re from, and three words. Jennifer, New Jersey, Breathe, Dance, Release.

We got to a personal altar that has been set up for us, where there is a candle, training manual, mala beads, and a card with a yoga posture on it. I am parighasana (gate). We reflect on what yoga means to us. We write it down:

Light! I am illuminated from the inside out–I can dance without inhibition. An energy that was once dormant is able to run through my blood, my veins, and out through my heart, arms, and legs. Peace! I don’t get angry so quickly. I respect others’ feelings and opinions. I am drawn to the human race. I feel we are one.

And then we chant, about inquiry. Atha Yoga Nushasanam. We do this in three circles, gradually. Walking in closer and closer. The sound is amazing. We are a choir. It gets louder and stronger as we come closer. I feel like crying, it’s so beautiful! We Om three times, stronger each time. Some people harmonize. Instant peace. I find myself smiling like a goofball, so awe-inspired, filled, in love with everyone around me. We make eye contact with our classmates and there is joy in everyone’s eyes.

We flow from goddess, warrior I, warrior II, reverse warrior, extended side angle, back to warrior I to music of chanting. The flow is alive. I am smiling!

Our assistants are Jurian, Roger, Leila, and Helga. They tell us over and over again that they are here for us, the wind beneath our wings. I feel so encouraged. No one is trying to trick us, play with our minds. Honest, caring, open, trusting.

***

It’s nearly 10 p.m., and I am emotionally drained. This is my bed for the next month:

Connecting with kundalini

Friday, October 21, 2011 in Autumn, Class Reviews, Kripalu, Yoga | Tags: , | 5 comments

Earlier this week, I re-connected with a dear old friend…kundalini yoga!

My relationship with kundalini has been a bit off and on, but my interest in this unique style of yoga began during my yoga teacher training at Kripalu, where we learned about the founder of Kripalu yoga, Swami Kripalu, referred to by his followers as Bapuji. Bapuji practiced kundalini yoga, the most ancient style of yoga (kind of how ballet is to the dance world), which incorporated very regimented sequences of breathing, movement, chanting, and meditation. The Kripalu style of yoga is derived from kundalini; hence, why Kripalu yoga is very heavy on the pranayama (breathwork)-asana (postures)-dhyana (meditation), and why I came home from yoga teacher training very interested in trying out this mysterious style.

The problem is that it’s pretty hard to find a kundalini teacher–let alone class–in Small Town, USA. Kundalini is totally different from “regular” yoga. There’s a ton of chanting, crazy-fast breathwork, and lots of repetitive movement, at times which can look very silly and feel somewhat awkward or weird (say, hopping on one foot with your eyes closed?). The objective is to unblock the energy from the base of the spine and allow it to rise through the chakras and all throughout the body.

Each session has a specific objective (e.g., heart opening, liver detox, mental clarity) with a prescribed set of “kriyas,” the postures/chants/movement. These kriyas are arranged in a specific order with designated time limits for each move or meditation; sometimes a set will call for the same move for 30 minutes; other times, the set will include several moves that last 2 or 3 minutes each.

I first started kundalini back in 2007, when a local studio offered an introduction series and then included it as a regular weekly class on the schedule. I was a kundalini junkie and experienced some pretty intense visualizations and post-class energy shifts. I was a regular student until the teacher stopped working at the studio, and then no more local kundalini classes existed. 😦

A different studio began offering the class last winter, and I immediately dove in. However, this teacher’s style was a bit different, and I felt like class was one third kundalini, one third the teacher talking about her life, and one third sitting (im)patiently on the floor post-start time, waiting for class to begin already. I couldn’t stand paying money for that and again had to depart from kundalini. 😦

But here we are in 2011, and to my delight, a teacher with whom I studied Tai Chi Chih last summer is offering a short kundalini series that began this past Tuesday. 🙂

I love this woman’s teaching style, with her soft, gentle voice; her attention to detail; and the way she can break down such a complex style of yoga to a hodge-podge group of students who are at all different levels and from different backgrounds. I mentally groaned to myself when she said that the first part of class would be more of a background of the practice but was surprised when I found myself eating up her words and really coming to understand the meaning of not just kundalini yoga, but yoga in general.

The physical practice that night was somewhat abbreviated but still powerful. We did all the basic warm-ups (lots of spinal rocking/twisting), the opening invocation, and worked our way into a short series for aura enhancement. I loved how she described our aura: the extension of our physical body, a kind of force-field surrounding our corporeal mass that we need to keep strong so we are able to block negative things (e.g., germs, bad energy) before they get to our physical bodies and cause sickness, disease, and mental negativity.

Strong aura, strong body!

We ended with Sat Kriya, which is usually included in every kundalini class. It’s a very simple but intense kriya in which you sit in hero pose (or rock pose, as it’s called in kundalini), with your heels under your rear; hold your arms above your head with hands clasped, pointer fingers extended and touching; and vocalize a sharp “sat” (pronounced more like “sut”) that draws in the belly, followed by a relaxed and soft “nam” during which the belly relaxes.

Hold the pose and repeat the sat-nam sequence for 3 to 30 minutes. Like most kundalini movements, this feels a bit tiring at first but then out of nowhere shifts into a very strong gesture and meditation. I’ve added 3 minutes of Sat Kriya to my morning routine and already feel the benefits: more alert, focused, and confident throughout most of my day.

The thing about kundalini is that sometimes its effects are not immediately evident; like, I didn’t leave class on Tuesday night feeling like my aura was all shiny and clean. However, the next morning, during my morning walk around the park, everything felt illuminated. The oxygen I breathed in, the sights I saw, the people I passed…I wasn’t necessarily labeling them as “brilliant” or “beautiful”; I simply felt like I was really noticing everything I passed, like my awareness was heightened. Especially with it being fall and the leaves changing color, the landscape around me felt like an artist’s easel with various shades of autumn pulsing from the canvas.

Crispy around the edges

Have you ever tried kundalini? If you ever have the chance, I recommend giving it a shot. It’s definitely different at times, but generally it makes me feel pretty darn good.

The things that kill a frown

Thursday, October 20, 2011 in Adventures, Autumn, Disney, Food, Friends, Mornings, Swimming | Tags: , , , , , | 2 comments

This past week has been a little dizzying, and Bryan and I have been trying to ho-ho-ha-ha-ha our way through a testy George Foreman Grill, a cracked kitchen sink and the installation of a new one (shout-out to my dad, who spent about 2.5 hours squeezed into the bowels of our kitchen cabinetry), and the demise of Bryan’s 10-year-old Hyundai and subsequent purchase of a new (used) car, complete with test-driving vehicles on a windy, rainy Wednesday night in rush-hour traffic.

Whee!

As such, I’ve neglected to pay tribute to the honest-to-gosh things that have recently put a smile on my face. Of note:

Late-Season Tomatoes

As usual, our tomato plants showed promise at the beginning of the season, produced a few good ones (the rest were devoured by squirrels and rabbits), and then withered into nothingness somewhere around late August. We went on vacation in early September, completely neglecting the plants and never once looking back. Yet abandonment makes the vines grow stronger (or perhaps it was the 279 gallons of rain we got this summer), because earlier this month these guys made an appearance on the sagging, droopy plants:

And they were amazing! Firm, red, with very few seeds, and not the least bit watery. Bonus: We got to them before those darn squirrels.

Toddler Time

As I’ve already mentioned, I am in love with my friends Emma and Peter’s daughter, Bella. She is a one-person show, and she is so entertaining that I could see people paying to witness her side-splitting expressions, silly dances, and toddler babble. I recently got to hang out with her all afternoon during her 2nd birthday party, which featured almost zen-like gift unwrapping (surely to turn into monster shreddage-unwrapping by next year), train rides on Thomas the Tank Engine, and the requisite cake time!

(Not pictured: Bella’s grandfather leaning a little too far back in his chair and falling to the garage floor in slow-mo. We all held our breath…and then busted up laughing as he gave the thumbs-up from the ground.) 🙂

Our gift to Bella was Disney related, of course: a baby doll version of Ariel. I brainwashed Bella into acknowledging that it was her most favorite present of the bunch, and it was a success.

Two-year-olds don't quite grasp the concept of "Say Cheese!"

My impression of Bella

She played with the doll all evening, much better than the time as a newborn she broke out into tears when her momma placed the Mickey Mouse plush I purchased in her arms.

She even crafted a seasonally appropriate thank-you card for us:

Indian Summer

The same weekend as Bella’s birthday, Bryan and I went down the shore for the day. The forecast called for temps in the mid-80s at home, so we took the opportunity to experience Ocean City in October. It was surprisingly warm (what ocean breeze?!), so much that Bryan had to buy a pair of shorts on the boardwalk and ditch his jeans.

I was excited to walk on the sand without a beach tag and, since lifeguard season is over, pose contemplatively on the algae-covered jetty.

We intentionally parked several blocks away from the main boardwalk so we could get in plenty of walking time, making us feel a little less guilty for indulging in super-huge slices of pizza and frozen desserts. (It also balanced out all the time we spent sitting in traffic on the drive home, since the rest of the world had the same idea about going to the shore.)

Where one slice is enough!

We played a round of miniature golf and took note of all the migrating monarch butterflies fluttering over the boardwalk wildflowers. I wish I had a picture of the butterflies—they were all over the place!

Ego Boosters

I don’t toot my own horn much, but two personal accomplishments last week really made me beam: (a) I found out that I passed a super-hard exam I took last month that officially makes me an Editor in the Life Sciences (complete with credentials that no one but our little circle of nerdy editors will understand), and (b) a triathlon coach at my gym praised my swimming skills. I told her that I was interested in taking her freestyle swim lessons (intended to improve your technique), and she looked at me and said, “Nah, you don’t need that.” I went on to explain that other than childhood lessons at the Y, I’ve had no other training and was looking to improve my form. Again, she said, “I’ve seen you swim. You’re fine.” Maybe it’s because I feel like my hip slows me down and that it compromises my kick, but few times when I swim do I feel confident about how I’m putting it all (kick, arms, breathing) together. My little pseuo-panic attack back in June wasn’t really boosting my self-esteem either.

But apparently I’m just a smidge above OK when it comes to editing and swimming. It feels awkward, but I guess I’ll give my ego horn a little ::toot toot::

Nature Walks

Every morning during my walks through the park, I see the changing leaves, curious deer, and sometimes even a wild turkey or four. This will be a separate post to come, though. Too much excitement to cover in this already overloaded post!

Saturday morning smiling

Sunday, October 16, 2011 in Body, Breathing, Class Reviews, Yoga | Tags: , , , , | 11 comments

I had a lot to smile about yesterday–a fresh pumpkin raisin muffin from the farmers market, getting to pet a black pug, and a long mid-afternoon walk through town with Bryan–but the thing that got me smiling the most was an hour of Laughter Yoga!

Laughing with Buddha (Lhasa, Tibet)

A local yoga studio offered the hour-long class, led by Bob Pileggi. I was interested in the class because it seemed to be more about the physiological/psychological aspects of laughter and smiling, not about telling funny jokes or being silly for the sake of being silly. And just having written about the importance of breathing and opening up the lungs, I thought this would be a great way to experiment more with just that. Another reason I went was to figure out how to lighten up a bit. A lot of times when I’m doing the 5Rhythms, I feel like everything but my face dances, that there is so much emotion in my hands, my fingers, my torso…everything but my face. Even when I feel joy inside, my jaw clenches. It takes a lot of build-up for me to break out into a genuine smile or to laugh when I dance. I hoped that Laughter Yoga would teach me how to be more comfortable turning up those two corners of my lips. 🙂

I was a bit anxious when only three other students showed up for the class; would it be possible to bust a gut laughing with such a small group? (Answer: YES!) Bob instructed us to commit ourselves 100% to the exercises, like little children playing princesses or pirates. Immerse ourselves completely, don’t hold back. I vowed to do just that; I mean, I had paid for the class so I might as well dive right in.

We started standing with some simple warm-up exercises to loosen the spine and hips, then moved on to conscious breathing, very much like dirgha pranayama in yoga, raising the arms during inhale, lowering the arms during exhale. We picked up the pace by breathing as though we were blowing out a candle on a birthday cake, very sharp exhales, a bit like kapalabhati breath. Already, I could feel my lungs opening up, my cells dancing with oxygen.

Then came the vocalizations, which we used for much of the class: Ho, ho, ha-ha-ha, done while clapping to the rhythm. We did this standing in a circle, exchanging eye contact with others. This continued for a while, getting louder, softer, faster, slower. Bob encouraged us to change the pitch of our voices, the direction of our clapping. Soon, this exercise continued with us walking around the studio instead of standing in place, still making eye contact with those we passed. Things lightened up at this point, and we shifted in and out of different “characters,” maybe ha-ha-ha’ing haughtily like a snobby debutante or ha-ha-ha’ing demonically like a monster. Before we knew it, unconscious giggles slowly began to escape our lips.

Once the beginnings of true laughter began to appear, we got back in our circle and…laughed. It felt a bit forced at first, just a tad uneasy. But the longer we continued, the more real it became. Each person’s laughter took on a different tone; one woman had a cute giggly sound to hers, another had a spirited ebullience to hers. Hearing all the different kinds of laughter was, well, kind of funny and contagious, and eventually I felt the shift from “I’m doing this because the instructor said so” to “I’m doing this because it’s coming naturally to my body!” It was a bit like babies crying–when one starts, they all start.

Next, we connected laughter to emotions. Standing in the circle, we took turns shouting out things that brought joy to our lives. After each person made their exclamation, we all laughed. It went a bit like this: “My baby nephew falling asleep on my chest.” (::laughter::) “Walking down Main Street, USA in Disney World!” (::laughter::) “Little curly puppy dogs!” (::laughter::) Then came the trickier part: doing the same thing, but shouting out things that caused us stress: “Sitting in traffic!” (::laughter::) “Sallie Mae loans!” (::laughter::) “Getting into a fight with your boyfriend!” (::laughter::) As Bob explained, if something stressful has happened and there’s nothing you can do about it, why cause yourself more stress by stewing and steaming? By choosing to laugh at something, you’re guiding your body into a more optimistic response and not harming your health in the process.

One of my favorite exercises was the three-part’er: (a) Cover your mouth and give a small, polite, demure little giggle; (b) Relax and give a medium-sized chuckle; and (c) Let loose and give a full belly laugh. I found this to be a bit like 5Rhythms–a little wave of laughing–from flowing to staccato to chaos. By the time we got to chaos (full belly laugh), we were ready to erupt. For a while, it sounded like the five of us were old college chums meeting up for the first time in years, cracking up about the good ol’ days. The funny thing is that I only knew one person in the class.

Before a final savasana, we lay on our mats and went through a final breathing-to-laughter exercise. Maybe it was because we were all spread out across the room and couldn’t see each other, but I found my most authentic laughter during this part. I heard one woman’s delightful giggle and just lost it, the full back-arching, throaty laughter you get when someone tickles you mercilessly. It eventually winded down naturally, and soon I was sinking into my yoga mat for a very peaceful savasana.

Sure, the class felt a bit silly at times, but just an hour of ho, ho, ha-ha-ha’ing and laughing without reason opened me up from my core to my head. That area of my body that always feels so neglected during 5Rhythms had a chance to dance, and I felt all kinds of wonderful pops and cracks throughout my spine and neck as the muscles around them relaxed and warmed up. For someone so intrigued by pranayama practice, I was thrilled to work with the breath in such a unique way–standing and moving and laughing–not necessarily sitting in lotus pose and doing ujayii breath for 20 minutes straight.

Also, on a more biopsychosocial-spiritual level, the actions of laughing and vocalizing are centered around the chest (anahata chakra) and throat (vishuddha chakra). Since finding out I have hypothyroidism, I am especially interested in the vishuddha chakra, and that maybe perhaps I don’t give it enough attention. Maybe introducing more laughter and throat-opening exercises will help my thyroid?

Playground version of simhasana (Lion's pose)

What did you laugh about this weekend?

Movement of breath

Friday, October 14, 2011 in Breathing, Kripalu, Mornings, Yoga | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

OK, so it’s become evident that my morning routine is a bit extensive. As my husband noted the other night as I set my alarm clock:

Me: I’m sleeping in tomorrow!

Bryan: So, you’re getting up at what, 5:45?

Me: 6!

Bryan: Well, I guess you won’t be able to do all 17 of your morning exercises then.

And I didn’t. That morning, I had time for one set of the 6 movements of the spine, a downdog or two, and finally–pranayama.

Pranayama is the practice of breathwork. It’s breathing but with control, focus, and mindfulness. Yes, we breathe involuntarily all day, but when you take a few moments to do nothing but concentrate on your inhalations and exhalations, the benefits can be felt almost immediately. A greater sense of calm. More energy. Vitality. Like you’re really alive, that you are not numb to the world around you. You feel. After all, inhalations increase sensation.

During my yoga teacher training at Kripalu, we did A LOT of pranayama. It was one of foundations of the style and was incorporated into every class. I think I breathed more during that month than I did the 26 years of my life leading up to the program. The results were intense, especially after one session where we did nothing but different styles of pranayama for an hour and a half. I’m 99% sure I floated out of the classroom that day. I left Kripalu with a new appreciation for the practice and a fondness for oxygen.

One of my favorite pranayama techniques is nadi shodhana, or alternate nostril breathing (also called “anulom vilom” at Kripalu). I try to do it every morning, because it focuses my mind and helps clear both nasal passages.

Most people sit cross-legged; I sit in hero with a blanket between my butt and feet.

The right hand (active hand) goes into Vishnu mudra: index and middle fingers tucked into palm; thumb will close off right nostril; ring finger and pinky, acting as a unit, will close off the left nostril. The left hand (resting hand) can rest gently on your knee or lap.

1. Gently press right nostril shut with thumb. Inhale slowly through left nostril.

2. Close off left nostril with ring/pinky fingers and exhale slowly through right nostril.

3. Keep right nostril open, inhaling slowly.

4. Shut off right nostril and exhale through left.

5. Keep left nostril open, inhaling.

6. Close off left nostril and exhale through right.

So on and so forth. There are several variations of this technique, including adjusting the ratio of inhalation/exhalation counts, retaining your breath at the top of every inhale and bottom of every exhale for a few moments, breathing only through one nostril, so on and so forth. I usually stick to the basics for about 5 minutes. One thing I’ve heard in kundalini classes is that finishing your last exhalation through the left nostril (lunar side) will promote peace and calmness, whereas ending with an exhale through the right nostril (solar side) will promote increased energy; hence, the side I finish on in the mornings!

Another note: You don’t need to be sitting peacefully on a yoga mat or blanket to reap the benefits of nadi shodhana. Sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic is a great time and place to do this, and you may arrive at your destination with blood pressure that’s not off the charts!

My final pranayama of the morning is kapalabhati breath. This is very intense, rapid breathing that involves a quick, involuntary inhalation through the nose followed by a sharp exhalation through the nose while simultaneously contracting the belly. It’s also called “Breath of Fire,” and rightfully so. It will warm you up in seconds! It’s a bit tricky to teach through words and it usually takes people a few tries to get it right. When executed properly, you won’t even be aware of your inhalations, and during your exhalations, your belly will look like it’s being punched by an invisible hand.

Here’s one of my favorite add-ons to kapalabhati, which I learned at Kripalu. It makes a juicer practice even juicier!

After your final exhalation, continue drawing out the exhale as you bend your upper half over your legs. Open your mouth and expel as much air as possible, like you’re vomiting oxygen/carbon dioxide.

Keeping the body empty of air, roll up through the spine and retain the exhale while sitting peacefully. When done correctly (and it takes a few tries), you’ll feel a “vacuum” effect from the belly up through the throat. Keep your pelvic floor engaged and lifted, the belly pulled in, and a slight lock in the throat (this throat lock is called jalandhara bandha).

Stay in this exhalation retention for as long as you can, concentrating on the belly as your mental focal point. Learn how to respond, not react to the desire to inhale. Panic mode will set in quickly, but the lesson is to work beyond the initial “OMG I’m gonna diiiie!” reaction. You will not die, and you may even find that moving beyond that initial fear will feel quite empowering and peaceful.

When the time is right, take a deep inhale through the nose…but only inhale to 2/3 of your capacity, so you’re not stuffed to the brim with air. At this time, shift your focus to the third eye (the space between your eyes, but just a hair higher) and retain the partial inhalation, allowing the oxygen to swirl throughout your body, feeling it dance from your head to your toes. I always feel a gentle, warm “hum” in my head at this point and a faint golden glowing sensation between my eyes, like all the rest of the world has shut off and I am just here. I tend to hold my hands out, palms up during this part, because I feel open to receiving energy.

Again, hold this inhalation until it’s absolutely necessary to finish the other 1/3 and then exhale into normal breathing. I do this sequence about three times and then finally–FINALLY!–end my 47538923893-step morning routine with a big, fat Om!

More morning movement

Tuesday, October 11, 2011 in Body, Mornings, Yoga | Tags: , | 5 comments

As I wrote in this post, my morning routine starts with the 6 movements of the spine…but it doesn’t end there!

What I’m finding is that starting my day with those movements really gets me in touch with my body and gently coaxes me into other movement, such as yoga, dance, pranayama, or meditation. When I’m pressed for time, I stick with the “Big 6”; when I have more flexibility in the mornings (which I usually do, because I wake up early specifically to do these kinds of things), I listen to my body and see what it wants to do next.

Time and time again, I return to the good ol’ seated sun salutation sequence, introduced to me by one of my very first yoga teachers. I love traditional sun salutes as well, but sometimes in the morning my hamstrings and hips just aren’t ready to bend down from a standing position.

Here, you start in dandasana and raise your arms on an inhalation, just as you would in a traditional sun salute.

Next, leading with your heart, fold your upper body over the legs into a simplified paschimottanasana as you exhale. Don’t feel the need to grip your toes or ankles or whatever. Just let the hands fall naturally, without hunching the back. Stay here for 2 or 3 deep breaths.

These photos were taken in the evening, hence the greater flexibility; in the morning, my hands are usually somewhere on my shins.

Inhale, and come up the way you came, arms overhead. Place hands in prayer position and draw them down to heart. Repeat this modified sun salutation 2 more times.

After the third set, proceed as though you are going into a fourth salute, but when you lower down–instead of resting in paschimottanasana–take hold of your right foot, drag it up near your knee, and cross it over the left leg into matsyendrasana. Place your right arm behind you, raise left arm overhead on inhale, and on exhale cross left arm over right knee into a gentle twist.

Take several breaths here, making micro-movements into the twist. Be sure to start the twist from your core and work your up; don’t just crank your head and neck to one side!

After exhaling out of the twist, uncross leg and slide right foot to a spot on the floor between your foot and knee. Place both arms behind you, fingers facing toward body, and, pressing into the floor with both your hands and feet, lift up into a modified upward plank pose, purvottanasana.

Not the best form; my neck and shoulders were very creaky the day I did this! (Also, again with the obvious hypermobile elbow. Ewwww.)

Drop you head back slightly if you wish and let your mouth fall open to release any tension. Take a deep inhale, and on exhalation, bend arms and lower yourself back to the ground, extending right foot out to meet the left, both legs straight.

Now, repeat the matsyendrasana/purvottanasana sequence on the other side.

When complete, return to Step 1 and do one last seated sun salute into paschimottanasana.

Do you feel any different in this pose than when you first started? Do you sense slightly more flexibility or more warmth?

I almost always sink just a little deeper at the end of this sequence and feel a little looser in my hamstrings. The focus on inhalations and exhalations calms my mind and primes me for some breathwork.

Stay tuned for a description of the final part of my morning movement–pranayama!

The 6 most important moves of the morning

Saturday, October 8, 2011 in Breathing, Mornings, Yoga | Tags: , , , , | 7 comments

This past year I’ve really struggled with establishing a solid morning routine. Between waking up and leaving the house for work–with a shower/hair/makeup routine somewhere in the middle–I’ve experimented with doing hip-strengthening PT exercises, practicing therapeutic yoga DVDs, sitting in meditation for at least 10 minutes, committing to 10 sun salutations (5 A, 5 B), reading books while walking around the park, meditating with alternating mudras, and dancing around the living room in my pajamas.

Regardless of which activity I choose, the key is that I warm up as soon as I wake up. Even on my wedding day more than 7 years ago, I woke up at 6 a.m. and, before I headed off to the hairdresser, rolled around in my underwear, stretching and loosening up my limbs. I don’t consider myself “creaky” yet, but as I move into my 30s I am more aware of that car-in-the-winter feel that sets in overnight. Starting a day without stretching is like heading off to work without brushing my teeth–terribly icky and not recommended.

After doing the Kripalu yoga video the other day and being reacquainted with pratapana (Kripalu’s version of “warming up”), I was also reminded about the importance of going through the 6 movements of the spine before engaging in any other movement. The spine is that what holds us all together, and giving it the proper warm up will enable all other limbs to kick in gear.

The great thing about these movements is that they can be adapted for people comfortable being on the floor, those who wish to stay seated, and for others who prefer standing. Whatever variation I choose, I do about 5 to 10 of each movement.

Seated variation (can be done in easy/hero pose or in a sturdy chair)

Part A. Extension/flexion

Spinal extension

Spinal flexion

 Part B. Lateral (side-to-side) movement

A beautiful C to one side...

...and on the other.

Part C. Twists

Wring it out, like a wet sponge!

Other side, different angle (from which you can see the severity of my hypermobile elbow joints).

Floor variation (for those comfortable on hands and knees)

Part A. Extension/flexion

The well-known "cat" pose

...followed by dog/cow pose.

Part B. Lateral movement

Keeping the spine in one plane, curve head, shoulders, spine, and hips into a "C" on one side

...and then the other. Try not to raise the head to look back at hips.

Part C. Twists

Slide arm under chest while turning head in that direction. No need to settle in this warm-up; I just let my head tap the floor and draw up to move to other side.

Be sure to keep hips over knees!

Standing variation (great for adding hara breaths)

Part A. Extension/flexion

Extend up to sky, slight backbend, chest lifted. (inhale)

Drop down, swinging arms behind hips. Give a big sigh on the descent! (exhale-HA!)

Part B. Lateral movement

Bend to one side, letting that arms slide down leg. Draw other arm up to armpit, like a monkey. Hara breath can be done during the drop; inhale while drawing back up to center.

Increase the speed/breath to create more heat.

Part C. Twists

Imagine your arms are empty coatsleeves. Gently swing them back and forth as you twist side to side, one wrapping in front of body, the other behind. Exhale HA! at final point of twist; inhale while swinging back through center.

I always picture myself as a washing machine agitator during this movement.

Since last week, I’ve been mindful of starting each morning with those 6 movements, and the end results feel pretty darn good. Most mornings I do all three sets, starting with the floor exercises and working my way up to standing. Incorporating the deep hara breaths really gets things warmed up and opens up my chest, throat, nose, and mouth, clearing the path for the pranayama practice that follows. The spinal movements open up the space between each vertabra, thus opening the pathways for greater energy/prana flow.

I’ll show you the remainder of my morning routine in a future post. Until then, remember to brush your teeth, wash your face, and move your spine!

About the Author

Name: Jennifer

Location: Greater Philadelphia Area

Blog Mission:
SHARE my practice experience in conscious dance and yoga,

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FULFILL my desire to work with words in a more creative and community-building capacity;

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