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

Sweat and Tears

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Tears for Norway .....

The tears were close to the surface this morning.

Tears of frustration born from his decisions nickel and diming away my future.

Tears of anger at myself for falling for his swindle.

Tears of shame at how I am perceived as I act as the face of his mess

While he continues to run away.

I welcomed the hot breathe of the yoga studio today,

Seeking purification and strength within its walls.

I set my intention, looking for acceptance.

I was told to “let it go,”

But I held on for dear life.

As I pressed into my first down dog,the hot tears formed furrows

In the beads of sweat rolling down my face.

I struggled to keep my breath as the sobs stole the rhythm from my vinyasa,

The body trying to share its wisdom with the mind.

“Feel deeper,” echoed the instructor’s voice as we were bent over in a forward fold,

The tap-tap-tap of sweat hitting the floor telling the tales of the heat.

“You will not be given more than you can bear.”

My hips felt like they were being wrenched apart,

Following in the footsteps of my heart.

“Let it go.”

I breathed into the pain, trying to soften.

“Don’t let the difficulty opening the hips translate to tension in the neck;”

“Don’t let something that is challenging destroy something which is working beautifully.”

Folding into child’s pose, I took a moment and let that soak in.

My current struggle is temporary, my gratitude is not.

“Let it go”

I walked out of the studio, the pouring summer rains,

Washing the sweat and tears from my enlightened body.

Ready to sever the final ugly tie to the past,

Trusting that the price will not be too much to bear.

I am ready

to let it go.

;

;

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Taming the Monkey Mind: Embracing the Monkey

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Last Saturday, we took advantage of the annual Brew at the Zoo (a kid-free zoo!) and enjoyed an outing to the local menagerie.  I found myself drawn to the gorillas, who were quietly surveying their domain as they perched atop the hillside.  They seemed unimpressed and undisturbed by the commotion around them.  Their monkey minds appeared calm and peaceful.  Gorilla Zen.

It made me wish I had a different monkey.  My mind is more like the tamarins, running and jumping around their enclosure, chattering their opinions to all who pass by.  I wanted to trade my hyperactive beast for a calmer, more regal one.

English: cropped v of File:Tamarin.monkey.500p...

Luckily, I was at the zoo, surrounded by professional monkey-wranglers.  Little did I know, there was to be a lesson in store.

We made our way to the orangutan exhibit for feeding time.  The keeper was throwing apple slices to each ape in turn.  The guy hanging out in the ditch wanted to make sure he wasn’t forgotten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I learned that the eldest male had been raised by a researcher and had learned over 200 signs.  He kept signaling “more” to attempt to encourage additional treats to be thrown his way.  His son, a precious little 1 1/2 old, was standing nearby.  The big guy never let him directly catch an apple, but he made sure to feed him bits from his own mouth from time to time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I watched the alpha male communicate various desires with the handlers, I inquired about the relative intelligence of orangutans and gorillas.  The handler responded with a chuckle, “Oh, the gorillas are smarter, but they’re too lazy to want to learn much.”

Lightbulb moment.

Those placid monkey minds that I was ready to exchange mine for had a downside.  They may be calm, but perhaps they are too calm.  I can call my monkey mind many things, but lazy is not one of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to model my monkey mind after the orangutans.  They were inquisitive, yet not anxious.  They are independent, yet social.  They are intelligent, yet playful.  So, maybe they are not as Zenlike as the gorillas,  but they fully embrace their nature.

It’s time for me to embrace my monkey mind too.  Even if he won’t stand still.

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5 Yoga Poses to Help You Through a Break-Up

Posted on by stilllearning2b

We tend to think of yoga as something to do when you need to stretch.  The truth is that yoga is as much mental as physical, as much to open as to strengthen, and as much to release as it is to hold.  When we have suffered the end of a relationship, we hold onto the pain in our bodies as well as our minds.  These poses help to soften pain’s hold so that the healing can begin from within.  If you have never tried yoga, now may be the perfect time to start as you work to mend your broken heart.

 

5 Yoga Poses to Help You Through a Break-Up.

Softness Isn’t Just for Selling Tissues

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When I was a toddler, I used to try to walk through the sliding glass door.  Repeatedly.  The coffee table was simply an apparition that should bend to my will and allow me passage.  Even the bulk of the couch was no match for my will; I assumed that it too could be bested if I tried long enough and hard enough.

As I approached adulthood and learned about the states of matter,I realized that my chances of walking through solids were pretty slim.  However, this did little to temper my will and stubbornness.  These traits saw me through many challenges in my life; I succeeded because I refused to give up.  I worked to make myself stronger, both physically and emotionally to see me through the challenges that life had to offer.  I had perseverance and reliance in droves.

It wasn’t enough. At least not for the long run.

My strength got me through the early days and months of my divorce.  I looked to my fortitude to help me push through what seemed like insurmountable obstacles.

Then, one day, I realized the external obstacles were gone.  All that was left were my interior barriers, and try as I might, I couldn’t simply lower my head and barrel through them.  This was not a  time for strength.

I found  wisdom in the teachings of yoga and meditation, areas that I had been exploring, sensing that they could counter my natural strengths and bring me more into balance.  In yoga, you are taught to find your edge, accept your edge, explore your edge (not to pretend it is not there and continue forward nonetheless, as  I was wont to do).  Pain is not something to  be denied, rather it should be acknowledged and  investigated.  I learned to recognize my edge and slowly, softly shift it.  I became more comfortable just being with the pain, softening my attitude towards it.  The process of healing from the trauma made me softer, and that in turn made me stronger and more whole.

Strength found its balance in softness.  The two together are so much more powerful than each alone.  Try as I might, I still can’t walk through furniture, though.