Mysore Musings

Yoga "Mat"ters har har har

When the props become important, it takes away from the practice. This has, at least, been my experience. Sometimes I think that if I could just get that pair of be whatever pants then I'll just rock and then I get them and realize that they suck for my body in a sweaty room practicing ashtanga. Or, how I don't notice my mat until someone points out that it sucks or I point out that it sucks.

For example, my first yoga mat ever sucked and it was great! A cheap blue pvc number that is still in my closet and soon to be moved to the "give away" pile growing behind the couch. I slipped and slided and had a horrible time in every pose and blamed every kink in my practice on my shitty little mat. And then, I looked around and realized I wasn't sliding anymore. Was the mat roughed up a bit (all the pvc floating in the air and soaking through my skin), preventing me from slipping? Did my sweat glands fly south for the winter? Was practice less challenging? Was I using those bandha thingies?

This was when I loved my mat. Me and my mat, my mat and me. Me and my mat in class. That time--oh do you remember, mat? That time when I did that pose for the first time and you caught me when I fell? That was a laugh! Images of me riding my bike into the sunset with my mat strapped to my back. Me and my mat sharing a picnic in the park. Those were the days.

Those were the days before I learned of the dangers of PVC and old blue was shunned to the back of the closet--to dear to throw out, yet too toxic to keep. That was when I invested in my Harmony mat. This natural rubber diddy took some getting used to. It was so sticky I couldn't slide even when I wanted to. It smelled strongly of rubber. But when I stood upon it, I breathed it in in all its rubber glory and felt a sense of peace at my earth friendly possession. But then it was so heavy. I didn't want to carry it every where. And was it true? Was this my rebound mat? The prospect of using some rental mat sent shivers down my spine, and yet, I still knew that perhaps I jumped to quickly into this relationship and there were some codependency issues.

So I broke it off. I decided to be a free agent. I would rotate my mats. I would use rentals. By golly, I would practice right on the bare, raw, primal wood floor without anything at all. I was wild and young and thought that I would live forever.

That idealism, that sweet optimism of youth encouraged me to travel light and forgo packing my mat on my trip to India. What for? The prop didn't matter. I'd use whatever I could find. What I found was a shitty PVC mat that sent me slipping and sliding like my first months in yoga. This was when I finally learned of the Mysore yoga rug. All these years spent looking for the same thing and what I really wanted, what I really needed was always right there in front of me. And yet, it still was not enough, as Sharath pointed out day after day. Marble floor + giant floor rug + shitty pvc mat + mysore rug = toes pointing out in back bending and mat wrinkling up. All highly unacceptable apparently. He pointed again and again to the big black mats around me. A Manduka mat.

A Manduka mat? They are so expensive. They are so heavy. Blogging has not yet opened the door to freebie sample heaven. But practice has. The world provides. My teacher cleaned out the yoga mat shelves. Piles of sad, tired mats slumped in the corner. But wait--what's this? A Manduka mat with no tags? "Can I keep him if not one comes for him?"

I lovingly unroll my new mat and roll up my old mat. I slip and slide in pools of my own sweat. Tomorrow I'll use my rug.

Jedi Mind Tricks aka "Seduce Your Knee" aka Iyengar for Ashtanga People

I'm standing with one leg bent and my foot perched on a bench. Cory sits, stroking and cooing at my knee, as she repeats "you must seduce your knee... no you are willing it! Seduce it, seduce it..." I twist my face in agony as I try with everything in me to figure out the difference between "seducing" and "willing" my knee. "This is easy for men," she says. "For women it is very hard." She smiles. I laugh.

"Seducing my knee" says she, is the secret for my pasasana. It is the saving grace to my tendency toward knock-knee inheritance and another hurdle on the path to working on my samskaras.

Guy says it isn't a twist. "What is it then?" I ask. A standing pose? A balance? What is it? "Maybe a hanging pose," he laughs. I frown. [A noose--ha!] Does defining the category of the pose get my heels closer to the floor?

"You have to hold your bandhas and then lower down slowly," Petra tells me before she gracefully lowers her seat to her heels. "Now you try." I fall over.

"It takes one year to get the heels down," 'A' tells me. Is this a metaphor?

The perfect end to this would be a multifaceted experience where I pull all this info together into a "perfect" pasasana and post the picture below. A testament to my hard work, determination, and practice.

Maybe tomorrow.

But you know, I couldn't even hold the pasasana minus the twist a year ago and now I can. I couldn't take a loose bind and lift my butt until my heels go down and now I can. I couldn't confidently bind and hang out (even if I'm on my toes) and now I can. And after being told to "seduce" my knee on Saturday, I melted down to my heels on Sunday (minus the bind but it is coming). Thanks Cory!

Ashtanga Yoga Cheat Sheets

Okay, now, while I don't think yoga should be learned from pictures, I do know that this is how I started my practice. I hunted these practice sheets down because I know that

1. not everyone can afford a yoga class

2. not everyone has time for a yoga class

3. some people are visual learners

4. some people cannot go to a teacher 6 days a week and need help remembering (in the beginning) what to practice

and also because

1. I think that the more free info in the world, the better

2. I want people to be excited about yoga and practice

3. It can be fun to look ahead to see what is coming

4. It can be fun to show your friends where you are in the sequence

5. Finding this stuff on the net is like pulling teeth

Cheat sheets can be helpful for these reasons. However, I very strongly feel that one should learn from a teacher and that you shouldn't bring these to class. Being clueless builds character.

Without further ado:

http://www.radikalfreedom.com/yoga/downloads.html

Surya Namaskar A

Surya Namaskar B

Standing postures please note that there are some "extras" in here that aren't taught in the standing sequence at AYRI.

Primary series more extras here as well

Second series and here too

Finishing Postures yes, and there are more here

also check this site:

http://www.astangayoga.co.nz/yoga_frameset.html

What isn't helpful about cheat sheets:

1. uh, you're cheating

2. it is a crutch. your practice is partly what you can remember and partly what is appropriate for your body.

3. practice isn't just about the postures

4. they insinuate that there is a "perfect posture" out there that you need to attain

5. sometimes they are inaccurate

6. they can't tell you how to get into/out of a pose or if you are doing it correctly

Does anyone have a third series poster? I decided I'm going to just skip the rest of second and start practicing third at home. ;)

Getting out of the funk/I see the light!

Primary can be a real drag. All the forward bending and linear movements and endless prostrating, for those of us with a slight inclination toward the blues who also live in "ick" weather, this is a recipe for a sad face. And if you haven't gotten any new poses in awhile this is called the plateau. We have all been there at one point or another and will continue to find ourselves on that long stretch of same many times to come. But the question is, how does one break the plateau and at the very least, make it feel like new?

My first experience with the plateau came when I was working full primary and nothing seemed to be happening. I felt heavy. I felt stiff. I was only getting the basic adjustments that everyone else gets. I realized that nothing was going to change unless I changed it and that I could be doing primary only until the end of time, so I had better find some ways to make it interesting. But mostly, I realized that I shouldn't be dreading the thought of practice. This is my life and my time and I want to enjoy it!

How to reinvigorate, re inspire, resurrect and have fun in practice

1. Think positive. For me, I used a three-fold path. Practicing with a smile, thinking happy thoughts, listening to go-get-em-tiger music before practice. My mantra was "I LOVE this!"

2. Get light. Uddiyana bandha changed everything. I made hollowing out my belly the main focus of my practice. This action helped make the jumps jumpier, the lifts "liftier", and everything more economical.

3. Stick to the vinyasa. No more extra breaths, looking around, going to the bathroom, adjusting clothing, or whatever it is you distract yourself with. Stick to the vinyasa. If you don't know it, learn it.

4. Open your heart. In my pre-ashtanga existence, I enjoyed the high I got after back bending. (I did mention that I was a sensation junkie.) I felt confident, like I could do anything. And my back bends weren't even that great. Something happens psychologically when you open your chest, just as something happens when you round your shoulders (there was an entire movement around this, they called it "heroin chic" and "grunge"). But with all the forward bending in primary, how is this possible? The answer is simple: turn everything into a chest-expanding, heart opening, breast busting, expression of your fourth chakra. Why not? Ashtangis are known for their crappy shoulder alignment, it can't do anything but help. You'll thank me when you get to second series. So in every pose, from chaturanga to kurmasana, I tried to think expansion, chest melting, collar bones wide.

5. Become a back bender. I spent more time learning how to deepen my wheels and learning to come up. Rocking from hands to feel helped to open the chest and to learn how to distribute my weight in order to stand. Plus, it really stretches the chest. (Inhale rock forward to the feet and pelvis, exhale rock to the hands and chest.)

6. Be objective. Pretend you are outside looking in. Is there anything that you could put more effort into? For me, it was all the lifting up stuff. Navasana and lift ups. Bhujapidasana and exit vinyasa. Headstand. Uthplutih.

Perhaps not everyone goes through this, but I have a tendency toward extreme happy and extreme sad. In primary, I was making everything a downer. Very tamasic--heavy and sluggish. Dull, even. I looked at my diet, my attitudes, my motivation, and added some fire (rajas) to the mix. It sucks, but eventually I had to learn how to do the work and inspire change in myself. I realize (though often forget) that no one will save me, rescue me, take care of me, or learn to jump back from bakasana, but me.

Sensation junkies

Last night, in a visiting-relative-paid taxi over the bridge I had that happy little feeling that makes me want to stay in New York forever. I love riding in taxis at night in New York, especially when we are going fast (relatively) in one direction so I can see the street breeze by, or, when we are crossing the bridge and all the lights from the city turn into a dream. It is the same feeling on an open road (again, in a car) with one of "those" songs and the sun baking your arm. Or riding on a motor bike and dropping your head back so you can look up at the trees and the sky. It is the feeling of being somewhere/being not somewhere. It is the feeling of flying over a town in a dream. You are there, but you aren't because your feet aren't on the ground.

It occurs to me that much of New York (although this must be obvious) costs way more money than many people can afford right now. And it isn't God that is magically changing the economy. (Future president/any person of influence, please do something different because this shit sucks!) So for the time being and perhaps forever I'll have to live vicariously through the New York dream of movies like "Sex and the City". Great.

A note on other sensations of being alive:

Post-headstand balasana, my torso feels like it has an exoskeleton that is cracking at the seams. Some days I feel shattered. It feels like one by one, each rib is lighting up in the joint where it connects to the spine. And when it lights, it ignites an electric shock down my spine. Every breath shatters glass. And then I realize that I have a dialogue running in my head and it is so loud that I wonder if anyone else can hear or if I have been talking out loud. I wonder how long I've been here with my forehead on the floor. And then it is over.

Slip and slide

In the winter, the balmy, sticky, cold, and rainy days make me scared to go to practice. I feel like an old hinge and a rusty bike chain all rolled into one creaky little package. But now the days are positively pleasant, and when the rain comes, I am surprised at how deep my practice becomes. Maybe it is because psychologically, I am putting more effort into the other stuff because I figure the wet weather will make me too stiff to bend anyway, and then all that work actually pays off and I become more open than if I would have tried for it.

There are places in practice where the wet legs and arms are not to my benefit (or at least, they don't make things easier). Today in bhekasana, that stubborn right heel (which now touches the floor--a feat beyond belief in this ashtangi's mind) was on its way down when my hand slipped off my foot and my leg went flying (I think it did at least, hard to remember when I am just so focused ;)). In supta vajrasana, the feet can be slippery little buggers. Again, in bakasana, I have to actually work--imagine--to keep up rather than just resting on my arms, otherwise my legs slip right off. So I was rather surprised when I nailed bakasana B, slippage be damned! In yoga nidrasana and dwi pada sirsasana, the slippery shins helped me to get deep into the pose. But, then they quickly slipped away. In back bending, it was ankles being grabbed instead of calves. My hands would have slipped right down.

I kind of like it like this. It makes the practice feel so dynamic, so alive, like a music video with a bunch of scantily clad hotties gyrating in a sweaty room to the rhythm of the breath. I'm a bit of practice vampire, I'll admit, feeding off the energy of the room.

Toward the end of second series today (for me that is pincha, karan, mayurasana), I started having these weird thoughts. You know, like when you think of a word and you keep thinking of it until it doesn't make any sense. Well, same thing, but with the practice. In karandavasana mostly. I kept thinking about how "omg I am upside down" and wait "what do I do now?" and "f#$ I'm still upside down this is crazy" It was funny actually.

In mayurasana, there are a couple of moments where my body is like "what is this?" and it searches through the database to figure out how to proceed and then it happens. I start to float. I was thinking about it yesterday and it reminds me a bit of those air locked jars of jam. Pop!

Moonday

Sometimes after the philosophy class, I have hard time sitting down to write. I feel like someone is shining a bright light in my eyes and all I can do is alternately look back and shy away.

But the last few days it is all those small everyday things that I've been noticing. I'm definitely a bit nostalgic already and I still have almost two months before departure.

Small things, like how the practice works itself out. How, without thinking, and just trusting, somehow, it all works out in the end. Watching students struggle like babies learning to swim in uthplutih and remembering how not long ago that was me. Feeling at peace with the world and myself and then receiving a pile of checks from the government and student loans. (Money won't make me forger, Bush.) How sweet it is to have no obligations and to just wake up voluntarily on the moonday and feeling the same way when I have to wake up to go to practice.

There is a pile of stuff to give away/sell growing behind the couch. Everyday, I throw a little bit more back there. It is this stuff that weighs me down; it is throwing this stuff behind the couch that makes me feel closer to flight.

Currently reading: A Model Summer. I really am.

LivingMysore.com

I just published the June issue of our ashtanga-inspired magazine.

(Hence the absence of posts.)

Check it out!

www.livingmysore.com

How the #@!? do you jump through?

I've been asked this so many times.
How the #%&! do you jump through?
?

Well...

Magic. My long monkey arms. I don't eat meat. I'm a girl.

Just kidding.

I decided that it is my duty to share with the world how I learned the jump through and maybe it will help you too. For those of you who are experts of the jump through, please send in your feedback, tips, videos, etc. Together, we can get the world to jump through! Ah, that's sweet.

I've divided the journey of jumping through into seven parts. The important things to remember are that everyone is different, Rome was not built in a day, you have to really try. Keep in mind that you might be working on one of these stages for a long time. That's okay!

How to jump through (Part One)

The basic basics

Let's start at the very beginning--the very basics of the jump through. These simple instructions are important to master before the fancy stuff that comes later.

Breathing

Start in downward facing dog. Make it a short downward dog. Take an inhale and as you exhale, hollow out your belly (like a greyhound), bend your knees, look past your hands. Inhale and lightly jump your hips up and forward into the air. Exhale and lightly land on your shins between your hands. Inhale, take your legs forward into dandasana.

I know, you wanted to just jump through right? Well if you could do it, you wouldn't be reading this... So, first we start with baby steps. The things to focus on here are the breathing patterns, not holding the breath, moving with the breath, getting the hips high, landing softly, and learning to be in control of your body in space. Imagine a little kid walking a big dog. Who is walking who? This is you and your practice. Take the lead!

Part Two:

Cross your legs and jump for the sky

Once you are in control of your breathing and you are landing lightly, do the same thing, but this time land with your legs crossed. This will help you face your fears of breaking your toes, it will help you learn to make new habits, you'll be able to continue to apply the skills you learned above, and you'll be one step closer to the full jump through! Continue to focus on your breathing patterns, not holding the breath, moving with the breath, getting the hips high, landing softly, and learning to be in control of your body in space.

Part Three:

"Bumble bee" spine and uddiyana bandha

Learn to cultivate the actions of the jump through in the other parts of your practice. Really, the jump through is the final culmination and outward manifestation of lots of internal work. So, while you are working on parts one and two listed above, also be sure to work on the lift ups before your jump back and uthplutih at the end of your practice. A wimpy jump back equals a wimpy jump through.

For your lift ups, focus on a strong uddiyana bandha. From whatever posture you are in, exhale and cross your legs while you put your hands down by your sides. At the bottom of your exhale, hollow out your belly and then inhale and lift your body up. In both the lift ups and uthplutih, make a "bumble bee spine". Puff up the space between your shoulder blades, hollow out your belly, and turn your tailbone (your stinger) toward your head rounding your spine. You are making yourself little so that you can fit through your arms. These actions will help you to develop strength and muscle memory for the actions needed to jump through.

Part Four:

Let it be ugly and use the wood floor

I'm not a magician and neither are you. You were probably a mess when you first walked into yoga and now look at you! You learned so much and are no loner the yoga newbie falling over in triangle pose. At this point, you have to let go of your ego and expectations and let your practice be ugly so that you can develop the information to make it pretty. Move off your mat onto the wood floor. Come to a short downward dog. Exhale and hollow out your belly like a greyhound. Bend your knees and look past your hands. Inhale and jump. As you jump, lean your weight into your fingers so that your shoulders are past your wrists. Land with your legs crossed as you exhale. Then inhale and wiggle your crossed legs through to sit. Remember to keep breathing and move on your breath. Work on extending your breath so that you can inhale as you jump and wiggle/slide though.

Right now you are probably whining about your arms being too short and you need to stop that right now. No more excuses. You have all the tools to make this happen, you just have to keep practicing. Let it be ugly.

It is important to remember that you need to puff the space between your shoulder blades like you do when you are making the bumble bee spine. It is like the cat part of the cat/cow warm up. Also, you need to work on leaning your weight forward so that your shoulders go past your wrists. If you don't, you'll land behind your hands instead of between them.

Part Five:

Mat wiggle through

Now you put yourself back on your mat and do the same thing you did on the wood floor. It will be hard because you can't slide. Again, let it be ugly. Your body will be like "this sucks!" and will find a way to make it easier i.e. jump through without touching the floor. Patience my friend. You'll build confidence, awareness, control, and strength.

Part Six:

Air born

Don't touch the floor.

Part Seven:

Keep the vinyasa

Land in the pose.

There you have it. My personal journey through the jump through. Feedback welcome!

Boobalicious: Figuring out mayurasana

The "girls" haven't always gotten in the way. I suppose over time I've figured out ways to adapt and use them as a gauge of where I am and where I should be. For example, marichyasana C and D were impossible. I couldn't figure them out. And then I realized that what I needed to do was create space for the movement. I might have been more flexible then some of the guys around me, but they didn't have anything on their chests that they had to bind in addition to their thighs. So--duh! Boobs have to be out of the way. If I am doing marichi on the right side, they have to both be outside of the right thigh and then--voila! Space! So, I know that I'm not twisting deep enough in a pose if the nips aren't both on the outside of the thigh.

In forward bending you can always go deeper. I don't remember where I heard this but:

Nipples past knees!

So sometimes a pose is impossible unless I you navigate around them. Other times they don't get in the way, but are helpful as a tool to figure out where you are in space. Still other times they make things challenging. Women have a weight on their chests. The bigger your cup size, the heavier the weight. What does this do for the muscles that support that weight? Makes them tighter. Sure I can cheat all I want in deep back bends, but what I really need is to open the upper chest. Not so easy. On some days, you;ll find me adjusting my chest as I drop back.

And now in Mayurasana, where do the girls go? Out to the sides? In the middle? Smash them? Yesterday I just smashed them. It was like trying to balance on water balloons. Not easy. Today I tried to pull them together. But this isn't easy to do while keeping the vinyasa. I asked Guy what he usually does, he just laughed and shrugged. Okay ladies, what's a girl to do?

Of bird feathers, bird bones, and back bends (...mayurasana)

Sometimes there is a formula for when you get a pose. You sense it coming, look up at the right time, know the teacher is talking to you, and you go for it--giddy, but prepared. Other times you can't believe it is here, can't really understand why (because you weren't "Yoga Journal" perfect), but soon realize it is because your teacher thinks you're ready, and just maybe your practice looks like it is your practice--you approach the asanas knowing what you're after rather than jumping into a body of water when you know you can't swim.

Today, I was surprised when I was told to jump forward after karandavasana. Let's be clear. I am not coming down and up on my own. But I am crossing on my own, I'm kicking with confidence. I've lost the picture perfect jump back, but I'm genuinely trying (most of the time to get it back). I really thought I'd be here until at least I could lower down by myself like a pro. But I guess I must have looked ready, maybe I just needed a break from the pressure, maybe Guy wants to show me poses so that I'm not dumbstruck in Mysore, or maybe he saw my pretty little flying moments and thought they looked promising. Who knows.

When I heard him say "jump forward" I knew the timing was spot on with my breath and I looked up like, "really?" I knew Mayurasana was a challenging pose, but as always, I was overwhelmed with how challenging it was keeping the vinyasa and in the "correct ashtanga" hand position. I went through the whole thing twice to remember the vinyasa and was gushing sweat.

I have to confess. I have maybe been sabotaging my practice just a little. There are some places where I know I could stick to the vinyasa and maybe be stronger, but I am holding back and entertaining the thoughts and the fears and the drama because I'm scared. I'm scared of what's coming of second series. I'm scared that it will be revealed that I'm a phony. That all along I've just been cheating and acting and never really that "deserving" or dedicated. They (don't know who this refers to) will know that I'm not flexible, that I'm not strong, that I think a lot. That I'm not good enough. It will all be revealed. I'm scared that I won't be able to perform day after day. (I know it isn't a performance, but I'm being honest here, so some compassion please.) And now, my bluff has been called. With all this business of trying not to get a pose and acting really tired after karandavasana and all the drama before back bending and I get a new pose. Grr. And yay!

Again through practice I tried to think "light" when I felt "heavy", I tried to jump high and focus on mulabandha, I tried not to think in back bends (unless the thoughts were positive and encouraging), and funny enough, I felt comfortable and even in my back bends and maybe even good again. I hope it lasts.

One last note on practice: my arms fall asleep every now and then in supta vajrasana making bakasana incredibly "unfun", however, not impossible. Some days I ignore it and go for it. Other days like today I make a big show (the biggest show yet) of making faces and waving my arms about. The pain is worse on the big show days. Interesting.

On Food:

On the way to the shala this morning I decided that the best practice for me in terms of my attitude toward food is this: asking myself "is this helpful?" Every time I want to eat or feel like eating or am around food, I will try to ask myself "is this helpful?" Inside this question are other questions like:

why do I want to eat this?
what are my motivations?
am I hungry?
does this food have a positive affect on my body and mind?
will eating this make me happy an hour or not?

Sometimes the answer will be "I am hungry, this is nourishing and will make me healthy and strong". Sometimes the answer will be "my heart is hungry, I need to eat this, I deserve this". And every variation in between.

Possibly more practical would be using the model I kept back in my macrobiotic vegan days:

Is it sattvic (calming)?
Is it whole, local, organic?

That was, all in all, a very boring time in my gastronomic history. I remember looking at my arms and feeling so frail. I want to feel strong!

I get back after practice and throw on "The View" where they are discussing this recent study on how women would prefer to have cancer rather than be fat. Yikes!

Yoga, food, and fat

But, really this is about dealing with control issues, body issues, emotional issues, non attachment, and learning to still the mind.

A while back I was at my boyfriend's parents' house reading Self Magazine on the couch while he rummaged around in the attic. There was this article about weight-loss (there always is) and they were discussing BMI, "ideal weight", and what they called "happy weight". The ideal weight was what the women wanted to weigh (not always realistic), while the happy weight was what was possible and healthy for their frame, lifestyle, etc. You can read the full description of the happy weight here. With nothing else to do, I figured I'd do the math and weigh in on my happy weight.

I knew I had gained about 10 pounds in India last year and had lost about 7 of them since being back in New York. I was a bit surprised to find that my happy weight was a couple of pounds lighter than my pre-India weight, which I had found to be comfortable. I wasn't "dieting" at all, but was eating very particularly. Strict vegan, organic, local, and gluten-free. Post-India, I am vegetarian and more relaxed about the gluten. My philosophy has been that I'm eating to be strong, whereas pre-India, I was eating to feel light.

Curious about this new found "happy weight" I thought I'd give it a try and see what it felt like. I really thought I'd be really hungry and bony even though it was just a couple of pounds lighter. It took a couple of months of being very mindful of how, when, why, and what I ate, but I did it. I felt really good! I felt healthy, strong, beautiful, light, energetic, and who doesn't love compliments? But then something happened and I stopped being mindful and started eating my way out of the fog. I didn't put on a bunch of weight--maybe 1-3 pounds depending on the day--but I feel different.

Again and again in the philosophy and theory discussions, the topic of food comes up. It is such a basic element of existence, it is no wonder that one's habits around it are a critical piece of the "enlightenment" pie. I don't want to be skinny or bony. I don't want to fast and live in a cave. But if I am very honest with myself, I can admit that I do have some "mindfulness" issues surrounding food and when I am not mindful, I sometimes end up eating food that has negative affects on my body and mind. I know this is a sticky topic. Am I a control freak? Am I a skinny-obsessed ashtangi? Is this an eating disorder? Am I obsessing over nothing? Or is this really even a healthy issue to be analyzing? Maybe a little of all of it. Who knows? What I do know is that I have to take responsibility for my own happiness and no matter what I tell myself, the answer is not at the bottom of the peanut butter jar.

Okay okay and bikini shopping is on the horizon. Happy now?

Why I am interested in looking deeper at the way I eat and what I see as problematic:

1. Binge eating

2. Irregular eating schedule because of work

3. Eating when not hungry or out of habit

4. Emotional/stress eating

5. Social eating

6. Boredom eating

7. Reward eating

Why these are unhelpful:

1. I'm not dealing with what is really bothering me when I emotionally eat

2. Ill-fitting clothing sucks

3. Less confidence

4. Feeling uncomfortable

5. Being overweight isn't healthy. Not that I am, but I feel like even thinking you feel that way causes stress which isn't healthy

6. When you feel like you're overweight, "you suffer"

How to turn this around:

1. Less dairy. Although I don't really eat much to begin with. But do I really need to tax the cheese when I'm making a meal?

2. Not making any exceptions for refined grains

3. Avoiding packaged food

4. Smaller portions

5. Eating when hungry

6. Avoid multi tasking while I eat.

Should I workout or something too? I don't think so. It isn't about losing weight as much as it is about not letting the eating monster take over sometimes.

So the "goal" is to be more mindful. How will I know it? I'll feel it. And maybe I'll lose the 1-3 pounds to get to the "happy weight". Why not?

Helpful tools:

Happy Weight Calculator

BMI Calculator

Caloric Calculator

I threw "yoga" into the caloric calculator and it said that I burn 612.68 calories in one session. If I ran instead, I'd burn only 548.67 calories. Ha! Take that runners!

Apparently I'm supposed to take in 1890.91 calories to maintain my current weight at my current activity level. But if I want to lose weight, I have to burn more calories or eat less calories. I am already very active, so that isn't going to happen. But again, do I really need the TV snack? Or the second piece of toast? And actually, I don't even know how many calories are in what I eat...

So how is this a yoga practice? It is tapas. It is being mindful. It is actively moving toward understanding what is going on internally and how that can manifest externally. It is about moving away from suffering and toward my true self. Is my true self hungry? What doesn my true self want to eat for lunch today? Or is that my other self talking?

Currently reading: "The Red Tent"

No expectations: lessons learned from India and the New York experience

There is a plaque on the wall which reads "Best place to renew your drivers licence" by New York Press. There is an award for this? What exactly were the criteria? At this point, I'm thinking this MVD "Express" won because it has truly captured the New York experience.

People are standing in lines, sitting around, leaning against walls, running to counters when they hear their numbers. Everyone seems so know where to be except me. Like any good consumer, I head to the right and behold--the information desk. I get my paperwork, find no pens in the "pens box" and see too much hostility and self imposed isolation from those surrounding me to ask to borrow. So I walk out the doors (but they haven't beat me) no, I go next door to the HSBC and use one of those pens on a chain to complete my forms, and then head back in. Do I need a number? A line? Should I just sit and wait? I decide to stand in a line. Turns out to be the right choice. I finish my book. I thank myself for remembering my ipod. As I crank up the volume I wonder how people survived without them. I look around and fantasize about being in that Stone Temple Pilots video "Everybody Hurts" and singing out loud and we all riot and get the fuck out of the there. We overthrow the system. I smile to myself and swallow that.

Why are we here and what on earth are we doing? We are waiting in lines to get licences to drive. We think we have to. We think we are contributing to order and safety.

Why does this suck? It is hours in and I'm pissed because it says "Express" in the title and it is everything but. What did I expect? A fast food "drive thru" window? When I was in India, I carved a place in my heart for experiencing situations like this. "This is So India!' I'd think. And now I'm realizing that this is so New York. Evil civil servants with bald spots (even the women) and bad skin. Angry citizens in tacky outdated clothing like sweat suits. No pens in the pens box. Broken toilet (I've had to pee the entire time). An old man that looks like MR. Magoo and has a half smoked, unlit cigar stuck to his lip the whole time.

This is my first New York licence and it will have my New York address. I've lived here for 6 years and I am only just started to really be here. And now I am leaving.

Tips on surviving the New York MVD:

1. Bring a pen

2. Bring an ipod

3. Bring water

4. Use the toilet before

5. Eat before

6. Bring a fun read

7. Sudoku

8. Wear comfortable shoes

9. Have no expectations

10. Stay positive

11. A smile goes a long way.

Abre tus ojos

"Too posh to push" "Staycation" Really? Seriously--really?

This is ridiculous. I can't speak for the whole western world, or for the whole world. But for me, a US resident and national, I am sickened and blown away by how fucked up our lives are. It isn't everything, of course, but there is enough of it to warrant a furrow between by brows and widening eyes.

I watched "The Business of Being Born" yesterday. Nothing new for a young, idealistic, tree-hugging liberal, but disconcerting all the same. Not just the statistics either. Merely witnessing all those squirmy and slimy babies squirting from vaginas was enough to make me cry. Ah, the miracle of life. My "childhood" friend is having a baby in December. I really should be there. I really want to tell her to see the movie. That may be a bit selfish and "crazy, tree-hugging liberal". How do you not come off as nuts?

And then there is the "staycation". Just saw this clever term being used on one of the morning "news" programs. It is a pleasant way to say that our economy is going quickly down the toilet, we have no money, we work our asses off, and now we can't even afford to utilize our god-given right to drive massive vehicles vast distances across these vast lands to start fires in forests and eat packaged meats on white bread. So what are we supposed to do? Pitch a tent in our backyards. Watch more TV. God forbid--have a conversation? I don't know if I can handle it. My need to consume will surely consume me.

So what will I be up to this fabulous Memorial Weekend? Enjoying some fabulous sales? Giving in to the new trend of a fabulous staycation? I'm working. I'm practicing yoga. I'm trying to keep the momentum going with the whole "getting my life prepared" thing for the move in July. I'm trying to not think about what might or might not happen between me and my significant other and instead enjoy all the time we have together. And I'll probably eat a soy dog in someones backyard.

Stress Test

How do you know you are stressed out? Perhaps this is a funny question in that most people that I know would answer with "how do you know when you're not".

For me there were some very clear signs from the last week:

1. Falling over in Tittibhasana C (mental/physical exhaustion).

2. Barely making it up the stairs to my apartment.

3. Losing my monthly unlimited subway card four times in two months.

4. No period.

5. Constipation.

6. Unexplained anger and hostility toward others.

7. Loss of appetite/strong desire to eat.

8. Back pain and tension.

9. Vivid and traumatic dreams.

10. But this is the best one. I had a dream where I was going on this hike through the wild west and I was kidnapped and sold into slavery. I thought it was sex slavery as I waited down in a dingy basement on a dirty old cot. But no. It was yoga teaching slavery. The basement was below a highend yoga studio/spa where I was expected to teach "whatevery the clients ask for dammit". Amazing.

I wasn't supposed to have this week off, but it worked out that way. Boy did I need it. Bowels like clockwork, a visit from Aunt Flo, return of healthy appetite, time to cook yummy meals, release of body tension/pain, dissapearance of dreams, compassion and patience for others, renewed stamina, and a reeestablished joy for my happy little life.

I'm reading this book called "The Cure Within: A History of Mind-Body Medicine" by Anne Harrington. I admit, I'm not reading it cover to cover, but I have landed on some interesting discussions regarding stress such as the relationship between what we call "stress" and exhaustion.

Was I feeling stressed our exhausted or both? Humans have always been exposed to stress, yet some might argue that the demans of modern life are "fundamentally unnatural". Even, that perhaps what uniquely defines modern man's dilema is the notion that our stress manifests from situations where we are unable to solve them, leaving us feeling frustrated. Or maybe it is that we just have way too much on our plates.

Teaching yoga can be physically and mentally exhausting. "Career" yoga teachers, I've heard them called. Those who teach yoga to pay their rent. I guess that's me. I don't know how it ended up that way and for some reason, I have a hard time admitting it. It just kind of happened. Recently, someone was complaining to me about their job and then said how much fun and breezy it probably was to be a yoga teacher. Hmm. I never really thought of it as a career and perhaps that was why I was taken off guard. But in order for it to be a career, one must either be really lucky and have some high paying gigs, be independently wealthy, or work one's tail off. I'm working my tail off and dreaming about it too.

Okay, so there is that. Then there is New York City. Oh, and isn't public speaking like the biggest fear? Well I do it about three times per day. Then there is this move to India.

In researching "the cumulative effects of stress on individuals over a period of a year or more", researchers Thomas H. Holmes and Richard H. Rahe designed the Social Readjustment Rating Scale. Basically, it is a list of "stressful events" with their stress point value. You add up your points and based on that, you can figure out how stressed you are (and hopefully work to balance your life out). Here is a link to the modern version: SRRS. Interesting changes compared to the 1967 version.

"Change in sleeping habits" lost one point

"Single person living alone" is added

"Other" is added

"Give appropriate points to yourself" is added

"'Spouse' begins or stops work" instead of "wife"

"Mortgage over 40,000" instead of "10,000"

According to both scales, "if your score is 300 or more, statistically you stand an almost 80% chance of getting sick in the near future. If you score is 150 to 299, the chances are about 50%". At less than 150, about 30%.

My number: 395. Or at least it was last week. Good thing I do yoga. And spend a day eating homemade apple pie and watching romantic comedies.

My Favorite Moments

There are two places in my practice that I think I can call my favorites. Maybe I experience "pratyahara" (a withdrawal of the senses), maybe I experience pure bliss, weightlessness, or just a feeling of overwhelming calm. I'm not sure how to describe the feelings because they are so strong and pungent and rich that I can't really put my finger on exactly how to define them. And yet, they are so simple it is silly.

The first moment is in Prasarita Padottanasana A. I feel like I'm crawling into a 2 x 2 cave, head first. I feel like an ostrich with my head stuck in the sand. All I can see is the tip of my nose. There is nothing else. And I want to stay here forever. Time stops, gravity stops, sound stops, thoughts stop. I am not me, or 23, or fat, or skinny, or hungry, or smart, or rich, or poor, or in NY, or wearing black pants, or practicing. Nothing exists. I am just there. And it feels very safe and calm. It feels like I stuck my head up in the clouds to soon and I was invited to stay--but only for a few minutes--before being thrown back down to the earth. And then I finish my fifth breath and try to hold on to the feeling, but lose it every time.

The second moment is when exiting uthplutih at the end of practice. Yes, in theory I should lift up in lotus and swing right back into chaturanga without touching the floor. But until then , I am swinging forward onto my knees, rolling forward onto my elbows, launching my tail into the air and stretching my legs out behind me before lowering into chaturanga. Same feelings as described above but also like the flying dream where I am floating above oceans and cities and houses and trees and mountains and clouds and then I slowly loose altitude and crash into the sand.

I've got a ticket to ride

I bought my ticket to Mysore this past week. Another step toward becoming official. It won't really feel real until the apartment gets emptier. Although now that I think that thought--"the apartment gets emptier"--I had the feeling of standing in this apartment when I first moved in. How completely empty it was and how quickly it can be that way again. How real everything feels in this moment, how heavy every object is around the house, and in a few months, it will all just be a memory.

But that is exactly why it has to be now. That is exactly why I have to go and uproot and begin this journey--because this life can very quickly disappear and will.

I once went to a Jivamukti class taught by my friend, Heather. There was a lot of talking at the beginning because it was after all a Jivamukti class. And as resistant as I am to sit and hear someone yap (a small price to pay for some fun and challenging sequencing), Heather always talks sense and gets me to soften up to the experience for what it is. That day in particular, she was talking about death. How every time you exhale you are dying. Absence of air, the end of breathing is death. Every time you exhale, you are jumping off a cliff. Every time you inhale, you are carried right back up to the top only to jump again. A chance to start all over again.

I'm taking the pranayama and philosophy course that my teacher, Guy, is offering. When we hold all the air out and retain, what is that? It is like dying and then floating there just because you can. Retaining the inhales and inhaling in general tends to be much more challenging to me. What is that all about? I've always considered myself a bit of an optimist. I suppose I've also been a bit manic depressant as well. Maybe I'm just like my former boss said-- "You are a sensation junkie." And she didn't even know the half of it.

Or maybe going to India will only feel real when I'm sitting on the plane watching the city get smaller below me.

If you like horror movies, I just saw "Teeth". Two words: vagina dentata.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgMm-lF2eBE

difference in the shades
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfZnYgSfnXI

June on the west coast

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xsa2-rro1fg

Pull My Hair

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeupiT9lyCo