Ritual Movement

Call it obligation; call it habit; call it cellular memory or call it – my preference – ritual. This is movement that, despite what my mind is telling my body, my body presides. For example, I love long, leisurely, soaking baths – the kind where I read half a magazine and my skin turns pale & crinkly before I realize the water is tepid and my body is chilled. Baths give me a sense of well-being. I can be running late for an appointment – like 25 minutes to shower, fix my hair, apply a little make-up, dress-and-go late.  A bath is out-of-the-question; it takes way too much time. Well, that’s what my rational mind says. But darn it; if my body wants a bath it is relentless; my mind often can’t compete. I run the bath water while I select and lay out my clothes, jump in when the water reaches 4 or 5 inches, recline and submerge for a minute or two – and voila! My body is sated.

Likewise, each morning I walk my dog down a steep mountain trail, traverse a boulder-strewn creek, tramp through a rhododendron thicket and trek up an old carriage trail to an “L”, where we turn around and retrace our steps – about a half-hour in all. Like my bath predicament, I may have only 45 minutes before I have to be out the door for some appointment. If I do the whole hike, I have just 15 minutes left to shower (no choice with only 15 minutes), change and depart. So, at the beginning of the hike, I tell myself, “Today we only walk through the rhododendron – then we turn around.” No such luck! My body evidently depends on this 30 minute jaunt – and oh, what a stubborn body it is. For it simply keeps on truckin’. I have lost control. One leg proceeds the other and the other and the other... So, when we return, I  shower, dress, grab a banana and eat in the car – no big deal.

And so it is with my precious yoga practice. Sometimes, after a long strenuous day, my body and mind are fatigued. In truth, I’d be relieved if no one shows up for my 4:30 yoga class. I can go home, have a glass of wine, plop down on the couch and watch the news. Well… you know what’s coming.  Whether anyone shows up or not, I can’t resist a little stretching, a few lunges, a couple downward facing dogs and a plank for good measure. Before long, I’m into my 7^th salutation and going strong. Who says the brain rules the body? Who says the mind only resides in one’s head? That just isn’t my experience. Ritual is the mind’s apparatus for mental and emotional balance; movement is the body’s apparatus for rejuvenation and health. Ritual movement is the apex of both realms: the full moon in a cloudless sky, the scent of magnolia, the first warm breeze of spring. Ahhh...

Then again, I guess you could call it hedonism. And that feels perfectly fine to me too.

Pink

My yoga journey began in the late 1970’s – well before yoga was mainstream. I was a new school teacher in the Dover, Ohio schools and was looking to develop meaningful relationships while staying fit – both lifelong quests. I heard of a woman named Lawanna (yes, really) who taught yoga in her retrofitted barn, which was perched on a West facing hillside on the outskirts of town. Classes were at 6:00 two nights a week. But if the sunset was promising a salmon glow, she’d march her charges out onto a trail that skirted the hillside and offered up dusk drama. As colors emerged from the West, she’d instruct us to inhale the pink – as much as humanly possible. The deeper the evening hue, the deeper we inhaled and the more excited she became. “Pink is the most healing color,” she would ardently remind us. Mind you, Dover, Ohio is home to a couple of chemical plants and looking back, I have no doubt they contributed to the intensity of the very-hot-pinks we inhaled… cough, wheeze, sputter.

Regardless, I’m still alive today and inhaling the purer pinks of Blue Ridge Mountain sunsets – albeit not quite as intense as those impacted by Dover Chemical. And in the winter months, my 4:30 yoga class is often lit by pink skies at about the time we cool down and ease into meditation. I don’t march my yogis out the door. Instead, we all sit side-by-side at the West-facing sliding glass doors and inhale the pink, while bathing ourselves in its healing qualities. And I think of my first yoga instructor every time.

Thanks, Lawanna for this lovely inspiration.

Visualization and the Half-Moon Pose

Half-Moon is a challenging pose no matter how you look at it. Not only are you standing – bent to one side – on one arm and one leg, you’re expected to look up, as well. Egad. Usually balance poses require that you look down or out at a focal point – the nearer the focal point the easier it is for most. (Although, I have a skier who – from her experience – looks at the horizon and this works for her since we practice in front of large windows.)

My students have been practicing Half-Moon for several weeks and progress has been steady – but slow up until now. We remedied it through visualization. Before we attempted the pose, I had them close their eyes and preview every single solitary muscle movement required – one movement at a time: stand, bend knee, lift knee, step forward, bend front knee, bend back knee, extend arm, bend forward, plant arm on ground on same plane as forward foot, find equilibrium, extend back leg, turn chest upward, extend non-balancing arm toward ceiling, regain equilibrium and…. Look up! Then I had them all execute the move at their own pace as they inwardly reviewed and executed the steps.

Oh, my gosh. It worked like a charm. For the first time, each yogi was able to take her eyes off the ground during the hold period. Some were even able to look up. Yippee!

You Are Enough

Perfectionism & Yoga

Perfection. It seems I address this oh-so-human concern with every yogi I work with. Here’s the scenario. Someone new comes up to me and asks, “When are your yoga classes?” I tell them – and the next words out of their mouths are some variation of the following message; “I’m not very good.” And my response is, “It doesn’t matter – perfection is boring, it’s perilous and has no place in my yoga classes. If you want to stretch, lengthen,  strengthen and feel really, really good, come on in. But don’t expect me to push you without your permission. I do expect you to have fun and feel renewed when you leave, though.”

You see – whatever your ability at this moment, it’s enough. It’s enough that you’re putting yourself out there for your health and well-being. It’s enough that you’re carving time out of your day. It’s enough that you’re overcoming whatever trepidation you have about yoga to show up. And guess what? You are enough. And being human – guess what else? You’re not perfect; if you were, no one could stand to be around you for very long. So embrace your imperfection. It’s what makes you so darn loveable.