thebooktreefairy

Introduction to Ayurveda: Pitta in Summer

April 23, 2021 by thebooktreefairy

Welcome to midsummer. The hottest time of the year. Here, in the beginning of August, we are in the thick of it. The sun is bright. The ground sizzles, as do our skins when we sit too long without spraying ourselves with sunscreen or gulping beverages out of coconuts. We find relief in sprinklers, and notice the peace we feel while we are gazing at the beach’s gentle rolling waves. Hot peppers grow and bean plants intertwine fences. Lush and steamy is the air as we taste the salt on our ever perspiring lips. We long for the fresh breeze of fall, and anything to remind us of the changeability of the seasons, the atmosphere, and our very bodies as we mentally, and physically digest the first half of the year to clear the path for the second half.

Nature has an energetic force. We observe it all around us at any given moment. These forces thrive and spiral in the microcosm of the human body. We react to these energies and harmonize with them. The practice of this is known as Ayurveda, one of the earliest holistic healing systems. It is a belief that everything is connected, and when it is in balance, we are healthy. When it is disrupted, such as when we are injured, or eat poorly, or when there are shifts in the environment, we can feel less than optimal.

In Ayurveda, overall health is determined by the mind, body and spirit being in harmony with the universe itself, and believe that every person is made of the five basic elements found in creation, such as earth, air, fire, water, and ether (or space). These elements combine in the body to form the three doshas, or forces of energy, named vata, pitta, and kapha. Each one is composed predominantly of two main elements. Vata is made up of mobile air and expansive ether. Kapha is made up of dense earth and viscous water, while the metamorphic nature of fire and the unsettledness of water make up Pitta. Each season has its dominant dosha. So do each of us.

Sit in silence for a few minutes and notice the energies around you, and you may resonate with the overwhelming Pitta in your environment, depending on where you are in the world right now. Take note of how you feel this summer, those of us in the northern hemisphere, and notice what you have been busying your time with. Do you notice that the idea of taking a nap seems to be more inviting? Are you craving the kiwi and watermelon, and other refreshing respites from the heat? Do you find yourself mentally going over the events of the year that has passed so far, chewing on it, digesting it, flexing the mind to focus on the intention of the sound judgement you must exhibit to prepare for the second half of this cycle around the sun?

If so, it is because we are in the Pitta season, the time of where the two elements of fire and water reign supreme over our constitution. It is the season where we feel as if the world, and even ourselves, are on fire! According to the principles of Ayurveda, the Pitta translates to “warmth” or “transformation,” or “that which digests.” Put plainly, it forms the necessary bile and fluid to flush and burn away impurities. Unctuous is another word that floats around the Ayurveda community, and we’ll think of it as moist—the energies needed to digest, well, anything. It is the energy that governs the metabolism, and reforms anything and everything that enters the body. It is the energy of assimilation. It is said that when a person is born, their Pitta is in total equilibrium with vata and kapha.

Each of us has a dominant dosha, although we all have all three spiraling in us at once. There are many quizzes all over the internet to determine which dosha is dominant in your body. Yoga is a wonderful practice to get in touch and observe whatever constitution is affecting you at any given time. It is both a physical exercise and a chance to check in with yourself mentally and spiritually, in moving meditation. Many asanas(poses) are beneficial to each dosha. It is the way we practice that can aggravate or pacify any extremes of energy moving throughout the body. The object of balancing the pitta dosha while doing anything is tohave fun while doing it, soften your gaze, and allow freedom and creativity to flow in everything you do.

The attributes of the Pitta dosha are hot and liquid. Think of steam as a drop of water hits scorching asphalt. It is moist, and sharp, citrusy, sour, oily—all the qualities of summer. Imagine. The gentle hum of the fan wakes you in the morning. Your body is lethargic. You begin to move, and the sloth-y slink out of bed gives way to dragging feet across the floor, craving that morning iced coffee or tea to cool you off. You are brave, and ready to take on the day with intelligence, laughing and singing all the way through it. When we are aggravated or irritable, wracked with the discomfort of the season that rages inside, slow down. Walk in nature. Meditate. Practice yoga or work out at eighty percent instead of one-hundred-twenty percent. Flow softly, and observe, for our ability to sense what is going on in the body is governed by Pitta. Our focus is on the exhale, the releasing of any pent up energy, and give yourself space. You deserve it.

The sun-beam of sentience and understanding that pitta exemplifies is the result of these fire and water energies transforming and gliding through us, within and without, cerebrally, emotionally, energetically, and tangibly. It reminds us that less is more, and it is always enough.

For now, until the leaves begin to fall from the trees, we are in Pitta season. For some of us, it is their favorite time of year while others are counting down the days until we can sing holiday songs and bundle next to a cozy fire. All of the energies in all seasons in each part of the world, defines our own Ayurvedic disposition, our overall design for health. They each have their unique ratios in our bodies. What we experience is also inside us. We are truly the stream in the rolling river, our bodies a tiny universe within the larger infinite space. And by seeing the elements dance and bubble inside us and in the environment around us, through all walks of life, we come to understand, observe, and appreciate the creation, and the forces within it.

We may feel exposed or susceptible to these energetic powers, but we are also aware of them, and our vulnerabilities can be a source of our strength as we navigate the malleable dynamisms around us. Once we connect with these energies, we can make choices that matter, ones that help support our natural inclinations and soothe our irritabilities, or any extremes we may be facing. Whether we relate to the cheetah or the bear, the bird or the bug, we can begin to recognize how the doshas affect our lives, and our environment. So the next time you are caught in the wind and rain, or hike towards the sputtering volcano, or sleep by the calmness of a lake, know that you are, in some way, symbiotic with everything around you. Stay cool out there.

The Only Way Out is Through

June 25, 2020 by thebooktreefairy

Today, anyone who has ever questioned anything about their education or the way they think knows what does and does not cause them distress. Our egos make sure we are our number one priority, and our internal monologues reflect how we feel and talk to ourselves. There is power in words, and the feelings they convey, that often reflect our deepest beliefs, the ones we may not even know we have. These are called core beliefs, and they are the essence of how we see ourselves, and the rest of the world.

Now is the time to evolve, and thrive, and above all, support each other. We are long overdue for true healing at the singular and collective level, and it is being shown to us by the world’s pursuit of justice and wellbeing. Is anyone else asking themselves about the state of civilization: who even are we anymore, and how did we get here? Are we meant to just weather the storms of human existence or actively turn the tide? This moment in history is not only didactic, waking up all the parts in our psyche rooted in judgment and prejudice, but it serves as a catalyst into the next phase of our history, and it is up to us to write the story of our days. No more distractions. The only way out of this intensity, is through it, as the pain of the individual is now purging through the collective. It is a direct reflection of it. And I don’t want to go back to sleep. Do you?

Because of the pandemic, most of us are home. Many of us don’t have jobs right now, or are waiting to be hired back, and are facing the boredom crisis of just what to do with our time. It is mandatory now that we observe the patterns we have learned, of bypassing our problems, and listen to the voice within, maybe for the first time. Humanity at this moment is facing our deepest core beliefs square in the face, and these beliefs are shouting to us all the ways we relate to each other, and also how we have failed in our endeavors to do so. We have been called to face our fears, our prejudices, and our hatred–of ourselves, and who we perceive as enemies. And it is difficult to let go of those things, when they make up who we are. Now we get to see ourselves, all the parts of ourselves, and we don’t like what we see, do we? The world is being called to change, and we are at the forefront of history, riding uncertain waves of anxiety and even terror at its helm, and seemingly without sails.

Things are hard, and here in New York barely anything is open. What is, is not what it was. There are no gyms or studios open, no outlets for socializing or getting out. Those great escapes just aren’t there. The yoga and art community, as well as all businesses and corporations are reassessing their values and reaching out to their community, their people, their students, to say that all rights are human rights, because justice is and always was a spiritual practice. It’s shocking how many of us have forgotten that. Now more than ever, organizations want to play a meaningful role in shaping the future, as it is well past the due date for change. And the shadows have been illuminated, and what was once unconscious is now spotlighted with its own solo dance number. And it is meant with calls for compassion, and true self care.

If there’s anything though, that we are being taught, right now, is that we, more than we ever thought we did, want to stand together, in person, to support a cause we believe in, no matter which side. We want to be together. And there are so many sides to this story it’s so difficult to keep track. Every adult who feels me on this had a childhood once, significant life events that have made you question or deal with your life the way only you can. At times it can feel we are trapped by our lives, our pasts, our people. What was strongly held in our minds could be the very thing damaging us today, or rumbling inside us like a call to action, a transformation, a new focus other than how to acclimate into society, be liked, or show someone who we are. And it took a time free of distraction to incite all that in us. Even the laziest, most complacent of us, cannot deny the urge to do…something. We are hurting each other, needlessly, and the time has come to find another way of being heard, to lead, and to follow.

Lately, we have been showing up, in the streets, on the interweb, telling our distant relatives and whoever will listen how we feel and who we support, we are ordering groceries, at the auction, crying in the shower, checking our accounts, budgeting, mastering the home gym, on the phone, dusting off old cookbooks, remembering fights from long ago, and absurdly enough, really funny things that you forgot even happened. We are feeling lonelier than we ever thought possible, purposeless, and afraid. But we are also curious about ourselves, and noticing our habits, glaring insecurities and true, vehement desires. Where have you missed going or wanted to go? I miss the movies. I am someone who has straight up avoided meditating though because I didn’t want to face the quiet thunder inside my mind just yet. A friend of mine shared she missed the sanctuary of churches. And I completely understand that feeling.

And have you noticed, in the stillness, the voice in your head getting louder? That’s your soul trying to break though, calling for change. Are your heads throbbing with what to do next, for your highest good, for your joy? And if the inner monologue wasn’t loud enough, reality itself is crumbling around us. We realize up until this point our focus has been so narrow, and we have desensitized ourselves from violence that does not directly affect us. Yet it’s been so personal, our comparisons to each other. We’ve been trying to best others instead of collaborating. Our worlds are small, like our minds, sometimes.

Without the actual interaction with society, our contributions to society, our lessons, our income, our learnings, teachings and preaching’s–what is there to focus on? Where has our routine gone? Our mindset has shifted, as is the necessity, so we may invent and invest ourselves in our humanity, instead of trying to accomplish everything and gain the privilege of calling ourselves successful. When your business is your practice, your way of interacting with others, how can we evolve, weed out the bogus inner chatter of pressure, comparison, and judgment? Should we be at long last, realizing that today’s obstacles could be tomorrow’s opportunities? We’ll just have to find out what kind, together? And what if your rent is more than a weekly paycheck? What if our fear of the future becomes our forever future? How do we remember who we could be?

Pestilence is not the only thing digging its way into our lives, wrapping its elbow around our windpipes. Yet, still, for our safety, we are asked to maintain our distance, honor boundaries, and shift our focus to the space we are taking up right now. It feels small. We feel small, and wary of one another. This is the first step toward change, the awareness of how we’ve been all this time. And although we are confronted with obstacles, real and existential, we also have the chance to learn, from ourselves, and each other. We have the chance to share what our human experience has been up to this point, as well as reflect, and decide where we want to go. We have the chance to unearth all of those emotions we suppress and find out what we really think of ourselves, and the world around us. What we expect from it, what we give to it, and what we take. We have the chance to be human and see how much we like it.

Guided meditation: The Safe House

March 18, 2020 by thebooktreefairy

Everyone wants to have a sense that they can be safe. Secure. Protected. They want a place where they can unwind and completely relax. Exhale the day away. At times though, the events of the day, the hustle, the bustle, the conflict, the fortitude, the commute, can rob us of our joy, our sense of safety in the present moment. We have all been affected somehow by current events. The number one thing we take for granted, rely on, our health, is threatened in some way, and as a result we must compromise everything- our connection to each other, our community, even our routines. Today, Monday morning, March 16, 2020, you could not rely on that traffic to the office. Or the appointments you made last week. For most of us, that didn’t happen, and we got, what we claim we always wanted-to stay home.

Since staying home does not feel like a reward but a grounding, a punishment almost. We are not allowed to do our jobs the way we are accustomed to doing them. This is new. Unprecedented. What is wonderful about the mind is that the imagination resides within it. A child with a vivid imagination is able to dream themselves out of stressful situations. It is why the children are the strongest of us all. There is no limit to it. When we use it, it opens the door to not only increased awareness to what, we, ourselves like to dream but the enjoyment of the moment that you are completely or presently in. It is now, always. Now. So, now, I would like to invite you all to imagine you are standing on top of a mountain. Look up at the sky. What time of day is it? What do you see? What are the shape of the clouds, if there are any? And anything else you can think of. Now slowly lower your chin and look straight ahead of you? Where are you? The forest, the desert? By the sea? Take in the sight before you. When you look further down you notice a path winding down your mountain. Take a step and begin to follow it. Take in everything you hear as you step one foot in front of the other. Can you hear any animals, birds? Insects? A little farther up ahead you see a small animal walking down the path. There is something about it that attracts your attention. Your chief desire is to follow it.

The path winds deeper down the side of the mountain. You put a little pep in your step to keep up with the tiny creature shuffling in front of you. No matter where you are, the surrounding area begins to change, feeling more familiar. Scents you remember from when you were young creep up into your nostrils. Or a voice, in the distance, of someone you love. You’ve been mindlessly following the animal up until now and then you realize it is bringing you to a house nearby. In a few steps it begins to come into view. Pause and take in the view before you. What does it look like? What is it made out of? Is it well kept? Take a few steps closer. Reach into your pocket and pull out a key. Twirl it around in your hands for a moment. What is the design of the key? What metal is it made from? Is it on a chain or tether of some kind? Look toward the house again and walk up to the front door. How to you feel? This is your house. Use your key to open the door.

No one knows about this place but you. This house has been waiting for you to let a little light in. You are safe here. Everything you see you have put there, with your imagination. Fancy that? What do you see? Take a few moments to notice what the room you are in looks like. Go over and sit down somewhere, if there is a place to sit. Look around. Pick a comfortable spot to relax. Your favorite section of the room. The light is perfect. Take a few moments to notice your breath. The room is just as you like it to be. You are in complete and total comfort. Breathe in. And out. One more time, in, and out.

You hear a small rustling somewhere in the room and remember the tiny creature who led you to your humble abode. It is eager and wants to be near you. Look next to you to find it has been there with you the entire time. It begs to be picked up. Since it is so adorable you have no problem doing this, and with joy you gently hug it to your heart. It lets out an exclamation of glee. You notice in its eyes that it wants to tell you something. It gently whispers in your ear. Take a moment to really listen with your heart to what your teeny friend is trying to tell you. What does it say? After you’ve heard it the animal jumps off of your lap and scurries toward the door. You take this as a sign that it is time to leave. Gently rise from our seat and begin to walk towards the door. How do you feel? What, again, did you just hear the animal whisper to you? As you take in the sight of your safe house, open the door, and know you may return whenever you please, when you are alone, in your time of need. Look back out the front door, step out and close the door behind you.

See the path back up the mountain in front of you, as inviting now as it was the first time you saw it, for now you have memories to bring back with you. The animal is eager to make the journey with you. You follow it the way you came. Take in your surroundings once again. How much time has passed, if any? How does the sky seem to you now? What is the temperature where you are? Are there many trees or wide open spaces? As you walk back up the mountain with the greatest of ease, you notice that, somehow you have lost track of your animal, but that’s alright, you remember where you are going and each step seems lighter than the last. You make it to the top effortlessly. Take another look around at the landscape before you, opening your arms wide, feeling the energy of the place, the lightness, the power of it. Notice the breeze, the smells and sounds. Notice any sensations in the body or any thoughts racing through the mind. This is a magical place. It is yours, and it is of you and with you at all times, ready to be visited whenever you need to feel safe, and home.

Whistle Where You Work

February 14, 2020 by thebooktreefairy

The definition of going ‘to the office’ in 2020 has many designations. Today, remote occupations seem to be more desirable for the millennial jobseeker than cubicle life. You’ve seen the ads. And I’m sure you’ve made a meditation out of picturing yourself without the constraints of rent, family or fear of flying. I say this from experience, for I, too, swoon when I see a job posting with a very comfortable person on top of a mountain with a laptop, getting paid it seems, to live their dream. The dream is never as strong as it is when I am stuck in traffic on my way to the studio on a Monday morning, screaming the Gayatri Mantra in an attempt to practice conjuring patience. The driver’s seat becomes my desk, the picture out the window ever morphing at varying speeds. We are all at the mercy of the world around us, its congestion and race against time. We ask “why” and trudge along, attempting to be mindful in the process. This begs the question: how can our practice, as teachers and students, evolve in the new decade when we are bombarded with every-day challenges and the competition of our app-heavy world?

At the tail-end of my generation (80’s babies are still millennials right?), I have seen computers evolve and shrink, cell phones replace pens, one thousand books become accessible on a single device, organic food shipped in dry ice, and virtual relationships take precedent over real ones. I, myself, lead a virtual life. My hours are erratic. I write and research from anywhere USA. I mostly exercise at home through a variety of phone apps and YouTube, replacing the VHS’s from when I was a kid. I’ve always been this way, preferring solitary self-betterment instead of leaving my comfort to sweat with others in a warehouse across town. Like most people, my schedule is something that changes daily. Yet, despite it all, I have chosen to spend a huge chuck of my time in the world physically in front of people, driving to gyms and theatres teaching people how to breathe, stretch, and Om. And though I love it, I wonder how much longer I can do it.

It is exhausting, time consuming, and isn’t very environmentally effective being a yoga teacher today, most of the time, especially considering how much gas is burned between jobs. Usually, we teach at more than one location either by hustling or simply being invited by the people you inevitably meet. The commute is real, and it can be exhausting and challenging to manage our time effectively to lead spacious, unhurried

lives. Not to mention the time it takes away from our family and home life. The time it takes to walk, bike or train it to the next teaching engagement can be your daily adventure or horror, revive or drain us. Is it worth it? How do you cope with it? As long as there is a screen and an internet connection, the commute does not have to eat away the productivity of the day. Unless you’re the one behind the wheel. Eyes on the road ahead, literally and figuratively. We have to reevaluate how we value our time.

Like live theatre, live yoga can be taught in a found-space like a park, empty warehouse or apartment. Such is also the case for that vague parameter of what constitutes a yoga classroom, or what it means to hold space for your students, even if that physical space is far away. Beyond the gym or studio, your office is wherever your students are. Instead of desks. There are mats. Instead of modern corporate art, there are vinyl sticky oms and lotus flowers adorning a doorway. Or, simply, and often times the most peaceful, there is the beauty of nature all around. The glamor of the job lies in the fact that many of us vociferously long for a life away from a desk, unconfined, and free.

Our American world values convenience over connection, and it has affected how we operate in the world, and towards each other. We are more isolated than ever, and at the same time bombarded with community that fits in the palm of our hand. So many teachers I have come in contact with have relayed to me that the former model for teaching yoga in studios or schools or gyms is a way of the past. People like to burn less gas, stay home, and have the practice come to them instead of the other way around. But what about us, your guides? As a mere human instructor, it is easy to become discouraged by the business of yoga and lose sight of why we teach in the first place. I’m guessing to be a personal trainer was not your reason for joining a teacher training. Or maybe it was. Either way, definitely ask yourself why is it you wanted to teach.

When I teach yoga, it is always in person, at a gym/studio or in my home, and I do rather like it that way. I teach because it has always brought me joy, and I intend to follow that feeling no matter what I do. Given my rather introverted personal practice, I know, however, that it is not the only way to teach, spending more time getting to and from class than the class itself. I have been teaching yoga for ten years, all over the place. I also have a nine-to-five where I sit at a desk and manage schedules and appointments for others. My finances still depend on my desk job, and I’m one of the lucky ones, from my perspective. I live in a home where the cost of living is slim to none. I even get free lunch. And I am slowly learning the age old art of saying “no,” and “yes” where appropriate, instead of from an insatiable need or fear of missing out. But that is not the majority of cases, I have found, jetting around the island I call home spreading what I’ve learned about hatha yoga, and saving some pennies as I do so. And in 2020 it is my goal to carve out more time that is of value to me. So now I’m looking to see how my devices can serve me, instead of the other way around. How can my introversion benefit me and my business of being a yoga teacher?

Research the online platforms available to you. Curiosity and drive work well together. How do you fit into the budding mold? Teachers and students alike have been able to share their practice online, with live classes streaming all over the world, not just pre-recorded like the days of yore. You are connected by an original, live sequence, to an indiscernible amount of people, breathing in sync with you. There is variety, a new class every day, and a new teacher too. A waterfall backdrop is no longer something you have to travel to experience but can be projected onto our very walls. Sure, we have to stretch our imagination a bit, but it is part of the fun, the endless play of yoga to find new ways of practicing. And teaching.

So how do we evolve with the times? What does the future of your yoga journey look like for you? As Oprah said just the other day during her 2020 Vision tour at Barclay’s in Brooklyn: “You’re late. Stop complaining that you’re late, you’re late.” I’m paraphrasing here but what she said stayed with me. It made me question my mindfulness and my choices in pursuit of something I am wishing for more than doing. And accepting that I am the master of my fate, my office hours, and my style. My wish for all of you this year is just that: accept where you are and whistle wherever it is you work. Until you can find a better way that’s worth while.

the words living flowers in script writing

The Business of Yoga Part 2: Embracing Authenticity

December 19, 2019 by thebooktreefairy

When you teach anything, whether it be aerobics or physics, you possess the library of information that will be shared with your students. It is data you have earned, as an instructor, that’s been passed on from your own teachers, and taught your way. In your voice. You physically, mentally, and emotionally, need to be there for your students, even if you’re filming your class for those at home.

In fact, New York City yoga teacher and influencer Elena Brower (@elenabrower) remarks often in her posts how hesitant she was as she wondered how yoga would translate across a digital platform. Turns out she is increasingly grateful for the experience and how it deepened her teaching practice. It allowed her to connect to her students in a whole new way, by staying grounded in her authenticity.

We share what we do to and with the world. Our accomplishments and expertise, our happy memories and our schedules. Self-promotion, even in the spirit of celebration is paramount for anyone who has a social media account. Otherwise, why have one, right? Our lives are now so carefully curated we can feel more alone and isolated than ever. So we must remember that we, and everyone else out there, is only going to show what makes them look the most together, happy, and dare I assume, authentic. In our waking life (away from the dream of alphanumeric realities) if we look inward instead of keeping up with the digital Joneses, we will cease to scrutinize our own lives and accomplishments. Instead the practice is and always will be expressing gratitude for the here and now. Someone inspirational said that gratitude turns everything you have into enough, and more. Your presence, fully and completely, is enough.

We can agree that anything online is not necessarily indicative of real life, even though we may want to believe it is an extension of it. But is a false light of life. The word ‘media’ is even in the description of this world that lives in our phones. Yet, some bright-eyed hopeful, post-millennial trendsetters definitely (probably) believe it is the gateway to creating their own brand, or ‘empire’ as it’s cheekily called. When did followers equate to fans instead of people you just knew in life? And what about these emperors made labels and advertisers begin to drool at the prospect of people advertising a way of life to sell stuff we don’t need in a society where hoarding is a disease?

What do the people who want to influence really want? To be at the top of their own pyramid in their chosen field. And, if we’re being honest with ourselves, a part of us must listen, if only to ask why, and see our own shadows of success reflected in their contoured faces. After all, most of them are the product of a technological boom that saw every toddler with a camera in their face before a book, or even another human being.

But whether we use social media to promote ourselves as yoga educators, we must remember our motivation for becoming teachers in the first place. We may receive ‘likes’ or increased attendance in our classes, or validation on our shared thought processes that contain the seedlings of other business ideas, (and the occasional discount on some cute but overpriced yoga pants) but there is one thing we are also striving for, that the shadow of the false yoga mogul’s dig out of us. It is the desire that we must have in common with the truly joyful educators with a meaningful message, if we are committed to sharing a message that is meaningful to us: authenticity. For in that word is the legitimacy so many crave, the proof that the path is a true one.

The idea is pretty ironic, though, considering social media, as I’ve said, is a digitally curated identity arranged, in Freudian terms, by your own ego. We are taught every time the word ego is mentioned, that it is fear talking—the projection of the desired self-image onto anyone who clicks “follow” on any page you have. In the ego’s ideal scenario, when we think we have transcended more earthly wants what we are really giving into is a codependency sparked by the joy of being led, of relinquishing responsibility for our own lives. Next time you are shy about sharing your world and your thoughts, or your yoga/spiritual journey, or have been wasting the evening ‘investigating’ fellow instructors, consider it an interesting exercise in self-observation. You can even explore online platforms to increase your chances of teaching remotely, or through videos. You’ll learn YouTube, at the very least. So it’s nice to have a plan to springboard off your friends and following while you experiment.

And just post it. As you watch yourself grow, you’ll be able to see the teacher you are becoming, as well as the teacher you want to be.

Being a yoga teacher can afford an individual a life slightly off the beaten path, no matter how corporate the environment they teach in is. That is part of the joy of the profession–the connection, the sharing of accumulated knowledge, and the constantly percolating business savvy that lies in each of us. Part of the reason many instructors get into teaching yoga is because there are so many opportunities to bounce around and teach a multitude of people all the cool and hopefully healing stuff we’ve learned in training.

Exposure, in this case, becomes an ally to authenticity. And, no I do not mean taking scantily clad photos of yourself doing yoga in a bikini on a glamorous beach and hoping your high school crush sees it. However, giving your students a way to connect with you and your lifestyle, if that indeed is something you want to share, is a way to share aspects of your authentic self, even the insecure bits, and create buzz about your teaching style. This makes it easier for your students to see you as a human being, and that will, many times, bring them back to your class. I’ve also found making announcements to remind them about your ideas and the various places and spaces you teach in to be incredibly important to connecting to the people you see every week. Or once in a while.

The practice of yoga attracts every walk of life for countless reasons. With that comes all kinds of teachers, each with a singular flavor. Some want to make yoga accessible to everyone and focus on the adaptability and recovery in poses and sequences, while others incorporate classical tradition into their practice with mantras, chanting, and meditation. There are the soothers and the sweaters, the kundalini warriors and kinesthetic yoga therapists. Some have yearly retreats in Bali and others teach from a spare room in their own homes. Some are former ballerinas. Others are aspiring attorneys. All have a profound effect on the students that come into their space, with any luck, imparting new insight and awareness of the body and mind, and at the very least, sometimes, a pretty decent workout. And it all begins with you, the teacher, and the energy you bring, on and off line, which can spread the authenticity movement across the globe, one yogi at a time.

Whether you are a new teacher or an experienced teacher, there is a likelihood that you will want to seek new teaching opportunities from time to time. Namafit is the perfect tool for finding teaching opportunities near you. You can learn more about what Namafit has to offer and how to get started here

Business of Yoga Part I: Intentions for Success

October 24, 2019 by thebooktreefairy

The definition of success has many forms. In order to approach our teaching career as a business, the first thing on our to-do list would be to define what success looks like. Chances are, it will line up with what also brings joy, which also equates to getting paid for what we love. More important than that, however, is the intention for becoming a teacher outside the realms of financial security.

When you think of success, what does your world look like? What is your goal? For some educators, it is the ultimate picture of that private studio in a big city, while others may want to travel all over the world and document their teaching journey from exotic locations. But we all start somewhere, and it can take time to discover what it is we truly want to achieve.

In the beginning, teaching can feel difficult in startling ways. The stakes of achieving perfection right out of the gate are heightened and the desire to serve can, at times, be eclipsed by the desire to be liked by our students. If teaching is your passion, or if you are just getting your instructor feet wet, any practice teaching is valuable hours earned. Whether we are teaching ten or one hundred people, each student who comes to class is sharing the singular dynamism they brought with them. It is the students, first and foremost, who can assuage and even transform the energy of how you teach.

Below are some reminders when embarking on your journey. Finding your motivation to serve, connect, and dive into the sensational world of teaching yoga takes a personal bravery. Understanding your own parameters of success relates to finding your signature intention:

Have a message: When we approach our teaching engagements and trials with an attitude of excitement and mystery, we are apt to grow into astute and intuitive individuals, and thus, better teachers. So take into account your own beliefs and knowledge about the branch of yoga you are exploring that week or the various meanings of a mantra. Prioritize your learning and practice above all else. When we begin to identify what draws us to the work that we do, our message will become clearer and clearer. All the steps that brought you where you are today should be honored, even celebrated. It is your foundation, and you are helping to create that for your students. If you are interested in what you’re teaching, your students will be too.
Observe the vibe: Ultimately, we are observing bodies as they move in space, and making sure no one hurts themselves during our careful sequence. It is a journey of endless recording and insight. Each class serves as a reminder of how well we can explain what we want to see our students achieving, physically and mentally. If a sequence proves to be too challenging for the student body before you, then soften it while drawing from the same overall intention. What are you trying to accomplish here with this sequence? How can it be modified? How we approach these unplanned hiccups reveals the hidden intention, because you are asked to put whatever plans you had for the class aside and surrender to the moment in order to make it the best class for all.
Know your worth: We all want to believe that the gift of teaching is enough. The way we revere our teachers that came before us, we think it should be. There is a common misconception that the ego (that deems money as a necessity and gets anxious when it believes there isn’t enough to go around) should be silenced or transcended instead of integrated. We all have expenses, not even including our own continuing education adventures. There are many types of pay scales, from students paying as they go, which makes you, the teacher an independent contractor, to having a membership at a gym. Where you teach and how much you charge for private lessons informs how much money you make per class. Do your research.
Make the rounds: It takes practice to figure out what type of teacher you want to be, and how to hone your own style. Western yoga-culture has definitely evolved, especially in the last ten years or so. Depending on where you live and practice, the number of teachers getting certified can outweigh the classes and studios there is to fill them. And if you are looking to make a living teaching yoga, where do you begin? Knocking on gym doors and dropping off resumes is certainly a start, and many are willing to give a fresh instructor a chance to teach a class that always draws in students. This can feel overwhelming at first, as it is different than teaching in a studio. Fear not. Teaching in a gym also allows you to lead a large group, modify sequences often, and find your voice as an instructor. Apply everywhere close by.
Tune In: While you practice your own private meditation, try to imagine your version of paradise, where there are no obstacles to your dreams. Notice your surroundings, the sights and smells, anything vivid you can paint with your imagination. Envision yourself rising after a long sleep. What are you most excited about today? What is it you care about most and want to share with others? That is your gift, your way to serve. Use this intention, which is deeply personal, yet can apply universally because it represents an act of service and can be brought into any teaching environment. Use your consciousness for good, as they say.
Focus: All that choose this path of teaching, however regulated, either feed into or shatter the stereotypes of what we think of when we picture a yoga teacher. Our ego loves to compare and measure. We come in all shapes and sizes, have studied in different schools and with teachers that range from the prestigious (whatever that means) to the virtually unknown, (but unforgettable). When we practice, we remember those classes that affected us most, and I’ll bet you that it wasn’t at a giant festival with some famous yogi/DJ combo, however cool the balancing sequence was. So connect to the feeling signatures of remarkable practices you’ve had. Flip through your memory. They won’t be hard to find. This may serve as a reminder of why you were drawn to teaching in the first place, and your appreciation for your own practice, which does not fit into a box but it shaped entirely by you, to mold as you please.
Gratitude: Perhaps the greatest perk of the job is that being a yoga teacher allows you to deepen your own practice by guiding others. Think about it. You get to spend a lot of time in intentionally stress free zones, hyper focused on your intention for the class and how they are listening, choreographing breath to movement, while at the same time heightening a sense of community, togetherness. And when we give of our knowledge and energy—our time, unique experiences, and tips we’ve picked up along the way–we also receive something from our students. Their energy, focus, and attention. Give thanks. Without them, you’re just practicing alone.

What is most important to you on your teaching journey? It may be the students you get to meet and guide, the opportunity to learn mystic chants in archaic languages, or it could be the physiological deep strengthening of your breath and muscles to age gracefully and inspire others to do the same. Every teacher has their own exciting and, at times, thought-provoking career path that has as many challenges as it does rewards.

Sensation and Repose: Yin and Restorative Yoga

July 12, 2019 by thebooktreefairy

Consider a curious bystander, strolling by the window of a yoga studio. He or she may see a group of students on the floor, head down in surrender. There are many props scattered around the mats and the bodies lie slumped in stillness, in what looks like a comfortable position. They are straddling a bolster, perhaps. Naturally, anyone not actually experiencing the class may assume it was on the Restorative side. This is not your usual flowy Power Vinyasa with standing poses and sweat. And when this anonymous prospective yogi decides to pick up a schedule at the door, the bubble font reveals the words: Yin/Restorative.

Yin and Restorative yoga are quite often described interchangeably in class descriptions. Anyone looking to begin or deepen their practice can be left scratching their head when they enter a labeled Yin class expecting some R & R and are called upon to become aware of their deepest physical, and oftentimes emotional layers, in a given asana (pose). That is because Yin yoga targets the connective tissue of the body– the bones, ligaments, and joints–through passive stress, in often supine positions. Restorative yoga uses props to physically support the body so that a yogi can exert minimal effort in a position, and find the greatest state of ease. This encourages the parasympathetic nervous system to switch on and promote relaxation.

clouds over a curving mountain road at sunset

The Yin in the modern Yin yoga tradition can be seen through the lens of the classical Taoist principles of Yin and Yang. Yin is the feminine aspect of the two, and is associated with the moon (cooling poses) while Yang is considered a dynamic, masculine qi or chi energy (life force) inducing practice, and is associated with the sun (heating poses). Although the roots of Yin and Yang yoga have blossomed out of the principles of Chinese medicine, it is the western appropriation that has cultivated this tradition. In Yin yoga, the body is put into positions that are designed to strengthen and mobilize the joints in order to release the sensory depth of the stagnant, tight and uncomfortable parts of the body such as hip flexors and knees. Poses are held for an extended period of time so that they may give way in the body, bringing sensations to the surface (physical and yes, some emotional). In these poses of surrender, in a state of passivity, we cannot avoid our inner life. How we treat what comes up is apparent in the quality of the ease we find in our practice. The sensations of Yin can even be described as a volcanic opening of prana (chi), extreme sensation, and, well, the opposite of the relaxation we come to expect when we see the word “restorative” in a class description.

Here’s where the confusion ultimately lies. It is in that word “restore,”–which many of us take to mean “soften” or “ease”–that plays an integral part in how we define and practice Yin yoga. In this case it does not exactly equal comfort. In Yin yoga to restore means to rebuild, re-experience, re-lease, which leads to the stretching of the fascia, or deep muscle tissue. When you’re in a Yin pose, like Pigeon for instance, for a long period of time–that is, several minutes–our experience of the pose can cause sensations to volley up and down like a strongman carnival game. The vitality and vulnerability that a Yin pose can exhume into awareness can be healing nonetheless, which is also the prime goal of Restorative yoga, as we know it. To heal.

Restorative yoga comes from the ancient Indian tradition of Hatha Yoga, and most recognizable in the teachings of BKS Iyengar, author of Light on Yoga, among others. He was an instrumental figure in spreading knowledge of the yoga sutras and his own teachings to the world. When he was developing his practice, he would use objects he encountered, such as trees, chairs, and even boulders to wrap himself around, in an attempt to find that ease so sought after while sitting in meditation, and to improve his overall health. The assistance of props provides added support for the spine and the surrounding muscles, especially for those recovering from injuries. In an aptly named Restorative class, props are used to assist in opening rather than stretching the body, and in a way that is aimed at achieving a sense of relief rather than deepening a posture to arouse a physical responsiveness. Restorative yoga activates the (parasympathetic) rest and digest system, slows the heart rate, conserves energy, and releases the muscles in the gastrointestinal tract.

On the outside an asana assumes the same outward shape no matter what the class is labeled. Poses crossover all the time across the many categories of yoga classes and traditions. You will often hear poses being called by different names in a Yin verses a Restorative class because although the pose bears the same shape, the activity in the body is observed through a different perspective, and oftentimes elicits an entirely different response in the body. For example, in the Hatha tradition Cobra pose, the legs as well as the arms are activated, anchored to the floor, pressing down. The muscles are contracted. In the Restorative version of the same name, a rolled blanket can be placed underneath the pelvis, elbows on the floor, or a chair can be used with the hands wrapping back on the seat or resting on the knees. In Yin’s Seal pose, the legs are soft, pelvis sinks into the mat and the arms support the chest while the energy reaches towards the sky from the crown of the head, both elongating the upper back while releasing the tail bone towards the floor. The sensation becomes isolated as the weight from your center of gravity sinks down.

clouds in the sky and trees over a lakeshore

Some believe these two types of yoga, since they have elements of each other that overlap, they are the same, and it simply is not true. What is true, is that the student goes into a position mindfully, slowly. Poses are held for a lengthy amount of time. Yet while there are similarities, the intention, the inner work, the energetic experience and mental roller coaster that Yin can catalyze, tells a very different story. Both practices, however, bring us back to ourselves, and, as in all types of classes, aim to facilitate a control of the mind toward allowing what is true for the yogi to come into awareness, to realize their own power as well as their tenderness and receptivity. Yin Yoga and Restorative are practices much needed in today’s predominantly Yang society. It gives us a chance to return to our center, focus on our breath and rest the mind in order to allow vital healing to take place and gather some of our hidden strength along the way.

When it comes to definitions, it makes sense that the semantics are intertwined when their intentions and origins are what isolates them. Although both practices were largely cultivated and exploited here in the English speaking world, calling them by the same name (even separated by a hyphen or slash) does a disservice to them both, and can discourage and confuse a student who has a particular physical need, injury, or intention. This is like saying that wading in a river and jumping into the ocean waves are alike because you can call them both swimming. Yet the blunder is understandable, especially since they have components of one another within each of them and are equally essential to a healthy and complete yoga practice.

Diana Benigno

A Spontaneous Surrender

May 22, 2019 by thebooktreefairy

The practice of yoga is more than just a physical activity. We know this because whatever pose (asana) we are faced with during a particular practice we will have an opinion about, an expectation. We will want to push our bodies to test our strength and flexibility, dancing around our breaking point for the sake of achieving what looks like an elegant back bend or deep, hip-opening lunge. We combat the rest that is aching to peak through in a pose in order to achieve our own ego’s yoga aesthetic. This can prove difficult to maintain, all the while breathing fully and completely, just as the teacher instructs. At times we unconsciously hold our breath in response to the buzzing of our mind, our judgments of everything, and the role yoga itself is supposed to play on the speeding train that is our daily grind.

We can observe yoga as a series of movements, whether still or connecting poses in a flow. Either way, we guided by the breath’s rhythm. Yet when we move through vinyasas, or rest and restore, our practice is accompanied by the repetitive lesson to truly live in the present moment, which is largely preached, in tandem, with the concept of surrender. So how to we achieve this ‘letting go,’ while attempting to balance all the energies that are blasting off inside our body and mind? How do we feel the lift-off of alignment?

We are obsessed with achievement, whether mastering a pose, project, relationship, or even life itself. We all know that moment during practice, when sheer will is what it takes to stand the heat in the room or the bubbling volcano in your gut. It’s an Ashtanga (flow) class, perhaps. We’ve just done some version of Surya Namaskar (salute the sun) and our legs are burning. In and out of planks and lunges we have flowed, and now, it is peak-pose time. We know we’ll have to feign that illustrious effortlessness, and even though everyone in class in concerned with their own appearance, the drive toward projecting internal balance is the strongest desire we know. And it hurts.

Now, here it comes. We are guided to put all our weight on the front foot, root the heel, move that front hand to the block or the floor, and just float up, they say, into half-moon pose (Ardha Chandrasana). As simple as the moon rising in the evening, you hear and resent. Although this moon is rising so close to the earth, seemingly against gravity. And you feel it. Your muscles shake. Your chest sinks against the pressure. Does the actual moon feel this heavy tacked up there in the sky? We wonder. Who knows where the breath is now because your lungs are frozen in space, trying not to fall towards the knees.

“Surrender,” the instructor says, from the comfort of their seated posture. It sounds more like a command than an invitation. “Find ease,” is the suggestion that usually comes next. Suddenly, the monkey mind bounces on our shoulders, causing our fingers to twitch and jaw to clench. Five seconds seems an eternity. Forget about five more breaths. Sometimes we can already see ourselves falling, and pretty soon we have detached, but not in the ‘enlightened’ way. It’s the kind of consciousness dislodge where we don’t understand our body anymore. Where there once was ease there is now pressure. The mind is just too busy, telling this story, wanting to achieve perfection. The harsh image of a slivered edge of a window pane crosses our mind’s eye and it causes us to feel wobbly and heavy. Pretty soon you don’t even hear the instructor anymore, caught in the web of tension that is your body at this precise moment.

Tension or stiffness in the body is a sign that our connection to Ishvara (our soul supreme, our “special” self, our inspiration) is lessening, growing more distant, or has faded. This is a stressful thought in and of itself until we remind ourselves that bridging that connection to our deepest self is like lifting off a par of sunglasses to take in the sunshine. In yoga classes there are many esoteric principles and ideas that sneak its way into our practice and serve as a guide for our moving meditation.

We want to receive the wisdom we read about in our favorites stories and mythology, but we are so caught up in the whirlwind of self-doubt and fear that we freeze, just before the embodiment, or ‘awakening’ rather, of this elusive concept–connection to the divine self–takes hold. We have pushed its inherent meaning (yoga, aka to “yoke” toward yourself) behind our desire to make everything all about our failure to fly, to blame it’s absence for our stagnation. Who we are, that which we call ourselves by, becomes the most important thing, instead of connecting to that aspect of the self that is just beyond the shadows, waiting to be acknowledged. When we try to push that part down thinking that is what stands between us and a ‘perfect’ practice, we achieve nothing, but more tension, more blocks, and probably an achy back.

Joseph Campbell supposedly stated: “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasures that you seek.” In order to find that which we deem valuable, it is the fear of failure, injury, or embarrassment that stands in the way. Yet notice, none of those things are concrete reasons not to take a risk or push your edge in practice. I guarantee, the other side does not hold more suffering, even if physical balance is not yet achieved.

How can we possibly hold on to our bodies when we are asked to relinquish all effort? How to we lift the body away from the earth while imagining ourselves being supported by it? Why is the teacher making me do this? The thoughts don’t stop.

We fail to dissolve the agitations of the mind. We lose the belief that we even have something to offer, let alone give it freely for the sake of letting it go without thanks or compensation. This sensation may be brief, but when it rises up it practice, it is a heavy block. It is powerful. And it is very apparent when we encounter it in our yoga practice, but off the mat it can remain a hidden hindrance to pranidhana (surrender).

We see surrender as giving up, the last resort, when our posture has become a mountain to climb, something to conquer at the edge of the Cliff of Tolerance. And this is what Hindu philosopher Pantajali (author(s) of the Yoga Sutras, among others) referred to the separation from source. That is, our connection– not to a god outside of us–but to a god within.

Bracing, a thought catches us. It is frustrating, but also reassuring:

It is an image of the moon waxing. With each inhale we imagine our body syncing with the moon, meshing with it, observing sensations. An inner call telling us to wax brighter, to inhabit the light and the space around us, and letting gravity’s pull steady us.

We can approach each breath as a brush stroke made on a digital screen that evaporates after it is drawn, or a chalk mural washed clean on a rainy day. This is mindfulness. We are alive. Up we go.

So, fly and fail. Offer your heart and mind by simply exhaling. Trust me, it’s enough. For now…

Namaste.

thebooktreefairy

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