Embodied grounding

My first Yoga teacher was smallish in stature, and though in her 60s, walked with a spine as straight and flexible as a pine tree. With the gentlest and most unassuming disposition, she spoke like she was softly singing.

She once told me that in preparation for speaking to her teacher about a conflict, she would do the Warrior Pose. I had not thought of using parts of my Yoga class off the mat to compliment different needs during the day but much later when I revealed to a minister that I was terrified of public speaking, he suggested that while speaking I focus on grounding my feet into the floor, as we do in standing Yoga poses.

It's true that how we carry and move our bodies affects our moods and alters our interactions with others and our environment.

In standing Yoga poses, we focus on the feet - how the weight is carried in the feet and connecting them solidly with the mat and the floor. In one of my favorite standing poses, the Tree Pose, I imagine roots growing from my soles into the Earth - deep and wide. From this rootedness, I can with ease expand my energy, spine, and arms up and out.

Recently I had an opportunity to practice the power of rootedness during an interview. Already a nerve-racking experience, I arrived a few minutes late before a panel of five people. It was the last interview of the day and one of the interviewers proceeded to tell me that there had been plenty of tardiness that day and how disrespectful this was to the panel. As he asked me how long it took to drive from my home to the interview, I began to move my awareness down into my feet and planted them firmly into the floor. Keeping my awareness in my body through watching my breath and feeling the solidity of the floor, I surprisingly answered the questions with unrecognizable calm. I was so amazed by the difference I felt during that interview that I truly understood the power of being grounded.

When you're in the midst of angst, your automatic responses will fall back upon who you are at your core, and if you're practicing Yoga regularly, embodied grounding is a part of you and will, more often than not, arise as needed. ... Just a little encouragement to practice regularly whatever you do to connect with your center - for yourself and those around you.

Show me your belly

There is something about the nature of the belly that feels warm, soft, open. Whether it’s that of my cat, husband, or my own - connecting with the belly feels like I’m connecting with one’s true essence.

In the Chinese and Japanese traditions, they believe that the navel contains one’s Dantien or energetic center. By focusing on that area during particular movements, they say one can strengthen their life force.

The naval is also the place where we, as mammals, were connected to our mothers in a nurturing, symbiotic relationship from conception to birth.

In Yoga we learn that one of the most fundamental and essential means of nurturing ourselves is through belly breathing. The science of belly breathing states that it activates our parasympathetic nervous system, which elicits the relaxation response and lowers blood pressure, turns on our immunity, calms unruly emotions, and prevents premature aging. I like to think that belly breathing’s greatest gift is the feeling of being more connected to all of life.

To a fault, the belly is the most honest, open and exposed place on a person. Animals know this. To have an animal turn over and bear their belly is a sign of vulnerability.

Yet, within it’s openness also resides its strength. Far below language and facial expressions, the belly’s amazing sounding board registers our intuition. For many of us, the first sign of something ‘not right’ shows up in our gut. It’s also the place that tells us when things are true and good by the overall warm feeling emanating from the belly.

In Mary Oliver’s poem, Wild Geese, she says, “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” The soft animal of my body is my belly and I’m learning to trust this truth.

In Praise of Softness

Just the other night, someone told me that they didn't know what they'd be like if they didn't have Yoga in their life, and I feel the same way.

So grateful.

Today what Yoga has given me is an easy way to connect with the soft underbelly rhythm of life, from the inside out.

Allowing the breath to hold me like a safe cradle, rocking back-and-forth, I feel the aliveness and warmth that arises from my core and tells me that, in this moment, everything is ok.

And, every thing IS ok.

In praise of softness.

The last fruits of Summer watch the changing colors

Getting Unstuck

Our mama chickie, Loretta Hen, recently got an egg stuck inside of her. I'd never seen or even heard of such a thing, but there she was walking around in our backyard taking one step, squatting, huffing, letting out a squeal and then starting the whole thing over again. She looked exhausted so we brought her inside to see if we could help.

We didn't know exactly what was going on. But by the looks of it, she seemed to be trying to give birth - holding her breath, pushing, dropping her tail, and then letting out the most human-sounding squeal I've ever heard from a Hen.

We did a quick search on the internet and figured it was a stuck egg, which we could barely see cresting from her hind-end.

We put her in warm water which seemed to stop the contractions and allowed her to rest, but she also stopped trying to push. We then massaged her belly and sides, and to no avail. Some suggested putting oil around the egg, which I attempted with my smallest finger. If you would have told me I'd have been doing this a few years into owning chickens, I would have laughed. But there I was.

A few hours later and with a wet and warn out chickie and no egg, we became concerned as this was a life-threatening condition for a Hen.

One site suggested putting her in a warm, dark, quiet place and letting nature run it's course. As we had no other remedies to try, we found a box and put some towels inside and added food, water, Loretta Hen, and closed the top.

After anxiously waiting only 10 minutes, we heard a small little sound from within the box and looked inside to find Loretta sitting quietly beside her egg.

It was over. Loretta looked relaxed and I was amazed at how little time it took her to do what she needed to do, once she was in the right environment. But then again, that made perfect sense. How many times had I also forgotten what was mine to do - what had previously felt very natural. And in my confusion, I had pushed and pushed, but wasn't able to find my groove.

Looking back on those situations, when I've been able to get into nature for awhile by myself or on a retreat, finding my truth and healing seemed the easiest and most uncomplicated thing in the world to do. Loretta was a good reminder that my inner wisdom and innate natural abilities sometimes just need a supportive and relaxing environment, and a little quiet time, to unfold.

Good Vibrations

Our kitty purrs very easily - when walking up close to him, petting him, and even while being prodded at the Vet's office. I am in awe of the warm sound that comes from inside his small body and love bringing his belly up to my face, feeling as if I've been reset from his good vibrations. I wonder what it would be like if we humans had the same mechanism. Imagine walking into a coffee shop of visiting friends, and above the sounds of steaming milk and chattering voices you'd hear a warm purring hum. Just thinking about it puts a smile on my face.

Cooking with onions

I originally found Yoga after 10 years of teaching fitness classes and feeling stressed and saddened by 9/11. My body was tight and felt constricted, and now understanding so much more about the mind-body connection, that explained what was going on mentally and emotionally for me, too. With Yoga, I was able to begin to feel connected to my body, let my mind relax, and feel grounded and at peace in my body and surroundings. This was and is huge for me and is probably the reason many folks take Yoga. I love seeing the relaxed faces of folks leaving class and hearing people say that whatever was bothering them when they came to class, is now gone. For that, I am eternally greatful at being able to experience and share Yoga in community.

As with all healing, there is a layering affect that occurs, like skinning an onion. Once I found that I was able to come to places of peace and feel good in my body after a Yoga class, I was ready for the next level and started experimenting more with meditation. My most profound experience was at a 10-day silent meditation retreat at which we meditated in silence, without moving, for 10 hours a day (broken up into 1 1/2 - 2 hour increments). What most people come away with there is what I am still working on as it's my next layer of healing - sitting with discomfort.

For someone who teaches a gentle form of Yoga, it may sound strange to hear me say that there are transformative benefits of sitting with discomfort. I do not mention it much in class, as I don't think it's where people need to start. But here is what I learned and am still learning in my body from this practice.

You are stronger than you think you are.

You can handle more of life's situations than you think you can handle.

There are many, many unhealthy coping strategies that we use unconsciously to numb, deaden, or distract us from feeling the knot in our stomach or the pain in our heart.

Once you allow yourself to feel strong emotions when they arise, in stillness, and let them pass through your body, you will receive amazing pieces of information about yourself and the meaning behind the intense physical reactions.

The more often that we distract or numb ourselves from being with intense emotions, the stronger they become. They need to be heard, experienced, felt, without judging or supressing.

Please do not think that this means I think you should do a Yoga pose that hurts your knees, hips, back, or any other part of your body. This experimentation of being with discomfort first requires much compassion for your body and it's ability to hold emotions that need releasing. It requires a deep and intimate knowledge of your body. And it necessitates that you learn and understand the difference between physical pain (an injury about to happen) and discomfort.

This has been the next layer of healing for me. In Yoga it is referred to 'freedom from your likes and dislikes.' Your likes and dislikes are often regulated by the effect that the particular situations have on your body (think eating ice cream - like, someone cutting you off in traffic - dislike : what are the sensations that you experience as you think of these scenarios?)

Freedom in Yoga is defined by making decisions in a state of equilibrium/balance - not influenced by short-term sensations in the body.

Though I am an idealist, I don't know that I will ever be able to reach this state. But I do find that there are plenty of times when being able to make a decision or react intentionally and consciously without trying to suppress sensations in my body feels very healthy. The most difficult part of that is reminding yourself, while you are in the middle of the emotion, to just sit and watch the sensations occuring in your body, like a third person observer. It can be pretty intense, but after doing it once, it reduces your fear and allows you to be more present and clear-headed in similar situations. To me, right now, that seems like the ultimate form of living intentionally.

Peeling an onion... it sometimes brings tears but always add more life to the meal :-)