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.

5 Things Which Require More Flexibility Than Yoga

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Divorce certainly takes flexibility, mental contortions.  Your life partner has become an enemy, stranger, platonic friend, or some combination of the three.  You have to go from seeing yourself as half of a package deal to solo, ties to no other.  You may be negotiating how to parent children when the parents no longer share a home.  You may be deconstructing the destruction, examining the known from unknown angles.  It is so easy to blame, yourself and others, for the way things are.  Everything that has been assumed is no longer.  The old lines of mental travel, though well-worn, will not serve you here.  It is time to be more flexible, more accepting of what is.  Wherever you are today is where you are meant to be.  Let go, breathe, and you will deepen.

 

5 Things Which Require More Flexibility Than Yoga.

Yoga 4 Love Community Outdoor Yoga class for F...

Taming the Monkey Mind: Graduation Day

Posted on by stilllearning2b

This all started with a 28 day meditation challenge.  It has actually been 32 days since I began; I added a few days to make up for the two that I missed during my camping trip.

So, I guess the first question should be if I consider my monkey mind trained after a month of formal education?  I’m not sure if I can claim a fully tamed monkey, but it certainly more well-behaved.  During meditation, my mind still tries to escape to planning mode every few breaths, but I find that I am able to bring it back much easier and almost without thought.  It no longer protests being brought back to breath.  In daily life, my mind is much calmer, less prone to anxiety, and much more aware and present in the moment.  That’s not to say that there aren’t moments where my monkey mind is running about its cage, shrieking and throwing things at the passers by, but luckily for all us, those moments have reduced in frequency.

Just because my monkey-mind has graduated from this program, he is not done with his education.  In fact, this was simply a starting point.  I am going to continue on this journey, me and my monkey mind, with a zen mind, a beginner’s mind.  I have found that I have more curiosity towards the practice of meditation than before.  It draws me now.  I have gone from letting it slip away from me to making it a part of me. I plan (uh oh, there’s that word) to continue daily practice and to experiment with different techniques.  I want to read more on the subject to gain new perspectives and to help put words to what I have already found.  Shhh…please don’t tell my monkey mind that he doesn’t get a summer break; he might get a bit upset.

It’s time to enroll in continuing education.  And the best part?  No student loans required for this course!

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Taming the Monkey Mind: Total Immersion

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I woke up at 2:30 this morning, unable to go back to sleep.  I do that sometimes.

I moved to the couch in my office, picked up my computer, and promptly began to research yoga and meditation retreats. You know, as one does in the middle of the night when slumber is elusive.

I feel like I have done pretty well taming my monkey mind, but I would love to test the premise of total immersion in the context of mindfulness.  I think that my monkey would do well surrounded by tamed neural simians and trained synaptic handlers.  I am drawn to the thought of spending a few days or even a week focusing only on my monkey’s well-being, far away from all the distractions that tend to catch his eye (yes, my monkey-mind is a him; I’m not sure why). Much like Cesar Millan uses his pack to train other dogs, I want to use tamed monkeys to guide my own.

I have done something similar once before.  In the fall after July Disasster, I spent a long weekend at the Mandala Wellness Center for yoga, meditation, and therapy as a solo retreat.  It was there that I found my breath again.  It was there that I moved back into my body.

I am looking for something different now.  I no longer need a personal retreat and I do not require the presence and attention of a therapist.  Instead, this time I want to be in the presence of others who are on a similar journey.  I want to share in the experience. I am no longer looking for healing, rather I am looking to make the good better.

There are many options nearby, but I cannot justify the price.  Options overseas are cheaper, but the airfare is cost prohibitive.  It seems as though the ready made options are out, but I am not giving up.  I am going to see if I can cobble together my own total immersion experience on a budget.  Without sleeping in my car outside an urban yoga studio, that is.

If anyone has any suggestions or knows of any wallet-friendly retreats, please let me or my monkey know:)

 

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Learning to Breathe

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’ve never been very good at breathing. 

My childhood was spent with perpetual croup, the seal-barking cough echoing through the house at all hours.  Eventually, I was diagnosed with asthma, my lungs plied with drugs that were supposed to encourage them to relax.  Regardless of the dosages and names of the medications, I always failed my lung function tests at the allergists.  I wasn’t used to failing tests, but I didn’t know how to study for that one.

I adapted to my lungs.  I knew when an attack was about to have me helpless in its clutches, I knew when pneumonia was setting in.  I let my lungs call the shots and we had an agreement that I would work within their constraints.

Then, one day soon after my 30th birthday, I grew tired of the bondage.  I turned the tables on my lungs and informed them I wanted to start running.  This was a laughable goal, as I had never even completed the mile running in school.  But I was determined.

I started at a local park with a .75 mile loop.  My first try was a humbling experience.  You see, I was in shape.  I lifted weights and could do cardio.  I just couldn’t run.  Within moments of beginning, my chest heaved, my breathing was rapid and gasping.  I was taking in air as though threatened, as though the next breath would never come.  I made it one full loop that first day, but I still didn’t know how to run.

Over the next few weeks, I kept at it, returning to the park 3-4 times a week.  I starting to trust my body.  Believe in my breath.  I worked to consciously slow my breathing, pulling air deep down into the unused basement of my lungs.  As I learned to breathe, I was able to increase my mileage to the point where I outgrew that park in the next two months.

My breath training extended to yoga.  I had been practicing since I was in high school, but I always focused on the positions and movements, not the airflow.  Running had brought the breath to consciousness; yoga taught me how to use the breath to calm and energize the body.

Then July came.  Disaster struck.  I lost contact with my breath, but I didn’t even realize it.  I just knew my chest felt constricted, wrapped in bindings carried in by the trauma.  I wasn’t able to run or to do yoga, getting even further out of touch with my lungs.  It finally took a third party to make the re-introduction; a therapist at a meditation and yoga retreat that autumn after my breath left me.

I lay on the floor of her office, cradled in a soft, fuzzy blanket.  She kneeled next to me, her voice soothing and calm.  She spoke to my breath, encouraging it to return, assuring it that I was ready to make its acquaintance once again.  She spoke to me, telling me t trust my breath, to allow it deep into my lungs.

My chest began to rise, the bindings loosening.  As the oxygen flowed in, I felt grounded.  Whole.  Reconnected.

My breath and I still have a complicated relationship.  I frequently don’t find it until a couple miles into a run or 10 minutes into a yoga practice.  I still have to encourage it, willing it back into my body, especially when I find myself gripped my stress.  It may at times be a tumultuous relationship, but I have no intention of loosing connection with my breath again.