Going With the Flow: SUP Yoga

Posted on by stilllearning2b

The 10 foot long paddleboards lay side by side in the sun along the sandy shore like fiberglass coated seals.  Soft waves chased each other across the lake, encouraged by the welcome morning breeze.  It was early enough that the herons still outnumbered the speedboats and the sun was just erasing away any hint of the nighttime chill.

I slipped my hand into the groove cut into the center of the board and hoisted it off the sand and into in the water.  I carefully placed my knees on either side of the handle, the cutaway serving as a constant visual reminder of center.  Stray too far and you fall in. After finding my balance, I carefully placed one foot and then the other on the board, staying in a cautious crouch until I trusted the board.  Until I trusted myself.

Learning to paddle

I pushed up to standing, taking the paddle with me.  After a few rough rows, as I learned how to twist and shift to keep the board steady; I was off. The board traveled lightly upon the water, the hollow thud of the waves hitting the underside of the board.  Our small group made our way up a protected inlet where the current was not so strong and the boats not as numerous.

off to yoga class

We gathered in a group, our boards constantly shifting on the water as our minds shifted into practice.  We were constantly reminded that these were not well-behaved yoga mats, sitting at right angles to a wall, rather they were dynamic surfaces carried by the whims of the winds and the currents. Common poses became uncommon when faced with the limitations and challenges of the board and the water.  We each were ever mindful of our center.  The water became our teacher, each little misalignment gently acknowledged with a tip of the board.  Or, if the subtle hint went unrecognized, a fall into the depths.

attempting tree in the wake of a passing boat

There is no illusion of control on the water.  You have only two choices: give in or give up.  I gave in, sinking deeper into the board.

Pressing into down dog, the board began to rock with waves sent from a passing boat.  Be with it.  You can’t fight the waves.  “Accept them and move with them,” was the lesson spoken by the water.  I listened, giving in to the sway.

a vinyasa

I turned over, pressing into wheel, gaining a new perspective on the ripening morning.  I felt the strength in my limbs anchored equally to the board as it danced lightly on the surface, creating a balance of contrast.  Feeling emboldened by the sun and lightened by the sense of playfulness, I moved into tripod, a pose which eludes me on the mat.  Every muscle and every thought focused solely on the moment.

wheel – a whole new perspective of the lake!

After lying in repose for several minutes, I pushed myslef back up to a seated position, so comfortable in my balance that I moved with ease.  Bringing hands to heart center,

Namaste.

As I walked back up the beach, I could feel the lessons of the morning practice settle in and I chose to carry them with me.

Update:  The following day, I was able to do my first full headstand ever! I love the fact that I learned the basics of the pose on the water:)

The group I practiced with:

Atlanta SUP Yoga
Worldwide organization dedicated to SUP yoga:

NamasteSUP

You Win Some When You Lose Some: A Father’s Day Tribute

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Ice skating with dad

Three years ago next month, I lost my husband. Three years ago next month, I gained a father.

My parent’s divorce occurred when I was in elementary school. My dad then relocated across the country shortly after I turned 11. We did not see much of each other for the rest of my childhood or throughout my twenties. In fact, we didn’t really know each other.

Three years ago next month, I went to visit my dad for the first time in several years. I think we were both a little nervous, as were trying to learn the choreography of our adult relationship. I was with him when I received the text that ended my marriage. In that instant, I gained a father in the truest sense of the word.

With no hesitation, I became his little girl again. He moved into action immediately, doing what he could . He held my hand for the endless trip back to Atlanta, not even letting go when he drifted off to sleep on the plane. He made the phone calls I couldn’t and stayed in the house with the dogs when I wasn’t able. He cried with me and cursed with me. He hurt with me and he healed with me.

Three years ago next month, I gained a father. A guide. A cheerleader. A mentor. A friend.

Sometimes, it takes a loss to realize what you have. You win some when you lose some. Dad, I’m glad I won you:)

And Tiger’s looking forward to your visit too!

Tiger is excited to meet his granddaddy!

Huffington Post – Tsunami Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-arends/tsunami-divorce_b_1571092.html

Damsel In Distress

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I met my dear friend and her three year old daughter at the Children’s Museum this morning.  Her daughter, we’ll call her Kayla, is an absolute delight, even for those like me who are prone to hives when surrounded by too many of the younger set.  She is in exactly the 50th percentile in height and weight, has the most adorable curly blond tendrils and little pink glasses that she is always pushing back up with a furrow to her brow. She has a stubborn streak born from her early months as a survivor after a premature delivery complicated with additional health issues.  Like all three year olds, she like to state, “I am a big girl,” and ,”I can do it,” whenever someone steps in uninvited to render aide.

three phases in timed shutter release

But this survivor has another side.

My friend and I were sitting on a nearby bench while Kayla played in and on a hybrid treehouse/ playground within the museum.  Kayla scrambled halfway up a climbing net, looked back at her mom and said in a pitiful voice, “Help me, help me.  I’m stuck.” Now, my friend, being an awesome mom, immediately read the situation and realized her child was fine.  We stayed on the bench, watching, but not moving to offer assistance.  Moments later, two other children approached her and helped her climb the rest of the way to the platform.  She began to repeat a circular route: up the net, across the bridge, through the house, and down the stairs.  Each time she arrived back at the net, she would look around to see if there was anyone, child or adult, that looked like they might lend a hand.  If she spied a willing soul, she would ask for help in a soft voice.  If no hands appeared particularly helpful, she would easily scamper up the net on her own, a satisfied grin wide on her face.

How many times do we do that in our own lives?  You do not need to be three or even female to act like a damsel in distress, calling out for someone to rescue us when we are perfectly capable of helping ourselves?  It is an easy trap to fall in to that is reinforced by other’s good intentions.

I saw a lot of myself in Kayla today.  I am also a survivor with a strong stubborn streak. And apparently an inner three year old.  I will bristle all too easily at unwanted advice, my inner child stomping and shouting, “I can do it.” While, at other times, I can act like a damsel in distress, helpless, so that I do not have take on the responsibility myself. Because Kayla’s mom does not reinforce her distressed damsel, Kayla will learn what she is capable of and will develop independence and confidence. Sometimes we all need that lesson.

As I have written before, there is no shame in asking for help, but there should be a timer set on assistance.  Take that hand, but know when it is time to let go.