Life Lessons From a Mechanical Bull

Posted on by stilllearning2b
English: Gator Conley on mechanical bull, inve...
Not the bull I saw, but I loved this picture! Photographed in 2007 at G’s Ice House. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No, I didn’t ride the bull. What are you, crazy? I have a marathon this weekend and I would be way too embarrassed to tell people that I couldn’t run because I fell off a taurian hunk of metal in a identity-confused bar in an aging tourist town with its own character issues. No, thank you.

This is me sitting on a non-bullish seat. Notice the lack of movement.

But, let me back up a bit. I went with a group of friends to Helen, GA this past weekend for Oktoberfest and to celebrate some birthdays. Helen is 1/3 kitschy Bavarian-themed village, 1/3 mountain country town, 1/3 biker bar, and 100% touristy. It has some of the best people watching outside of California, especially during October with its combination of Oktoberfest and Halloween.

This guy sits motionless until someone drops in a tip. Then, he strums his ukulale. Nothing ever moves but his fingers. Creepy.

Back to the bull.  I used to see those things (real and mechanized)  all the time when I lived in San Antonio. I think they were a requirement in any venue over a certain size. I haven’t seen one in quite a while and I was surprised to find two mechanical bulls newly installed in a bar that catered to heavy-metal bikers just last year. I guess the cowboy-hat wearing set pay better. I watched patrons try their hand at riding the bulls. Most were thrown off in seconds. Then, partly to encourage participation and partly for the joy of it, the guy running the ride got on. Watching him was a completely different experience. This guy could ride. Now, I’m sure some of the talent came from the wearing of the cowboy hat, but I learned some other lessons from him as well.

Also in Helen. I bet this bird felt like he was riding a mechanical bull!

Look Forward

The launched riders had a tendency to leave their gaze where they had been rather than look ahead. The talented guy kept his eyes looking straight ahead, even though straight ahead kept changing.

Don’t Fight the Motion

The more rigid a rider, the sooner the bull would send them flying. In order to stay on, the riders had to move with the bull rather than fight against its bucking.

Balance

This word is stalking me.:) The unschooled folks grabbed onto the rope tightly with both hands. This left their body free to swing wildly too far to each side. Our guy? He left one hand free to act as a ballast that balanced his body’s movements. Pretty smart.

Have Fun

After all, isn’t that what it’s all about!

 

Now, I really have no desire to ever ride a mechanical bull (I know, I know. Shameful for a Texan.) but I happen to think these four lessons apply themselves rather well to life in general. Oh, and I would add one more for me personally: Bagpipes make better party music than polka. Just sayin.

The view from the cabin – a peaceful contrast to town.

Thinking of all of you in Sandy’s path. Hoping you stay as warm and dry as possible and that this storm doesn’t take you for a wild bull ride.

Balance

Posted on by stilllearning2b

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

Shift Happens

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Child's Pose (relaxation) Български: Баласана/...

I do an 1 1/2 hour power 2 hot yoga class on Sunday mornings.  I have attended this class regularly since January, but it still takes me right to the edge of what I can endure.  Yesterday’s class was an interesting lesson for me.  I went into the class physically prepared: hydrated, rested, not too sore from the sprints the day before, ad breakfast was on board, but not a recent memory.  I should have had an easy go of it.

The mind said otherwise.

As I moved through the familiar vinyasas at the start of class, I could feel my breath hitch and stutter, my mind interpreting that as an indicator of panic.  Here I was, on a familiar mat in a familiar room, and my body-mind was becoming convinced that I was in some sort of imminent danger.  I began to feel light-headed as the breath deteriorated further; I was losing balance in simple poses.  All signals were screaming, “Get out!”

I chose to acknowledge them and ignore them.  Instead of leaving the sweltering confines of the practice room, I gently folded my body into child’s pose to rest.  I laid there for several minutes while the class moved and grunted around me, continuing to press their bodies into position.  I simply breathed.  I had to work to tell my mind that it was okay to rest, acceptable to take a break and miss part of the class.  I stayed there until my breath was smooth again and my heart beat was less evident against my ribcage.  I stayed there until my mind shifted from fear to acceptance.  From fight to relaxation.  From flight to stillness.

When I pushed back up into down dog to continue the flow, I felt revitalized and refreshed, even as the sweat poured down my frame.  I went on to have a wonderful practice, even moving further into difficult (for me anyway!) poses than I had in the past.

Shift happened.

Know that your current situation and perspective is temporary.  If you are unhappy with your current state, stay with it, but do not nurture it.  Acknowledge it, but do not be consumed by it.  Accept it, but do not run to it with open arms.  Guide your mind to soften and remind your body to breathe.  Shift will happen.