Yoga Girl Marybeginning yoga

Organizing.

mary — Mon, 03 May 2010 18:06:07 +0000

This morning was such a gift. I woke up gradually, noticing that I had left the bedroom window open and could hear the birds singing. Usually I wake up to a preschooler who has sneaked in sometime before dawn and tucked himself up under my right arm (this is pretty great, too). And usually there’s a soon-to-be toddler bouncing on his knees saying “Please! Please” for breakfast. But today, everyone was still sleeping.

I got up, dug through my dresser drawers for my favorite red yoga pants and pulled on a tank top, washed my face, brushed my teeth and headed downstairs with my baby now balanced on my left hip. There was just enough time to get the boys ready, in a non-rushed way (always best; read here), so that I could take a yoga class this morning.

I didn’t think to check the schedule.

When class began, I noticed that I was in a beginner class. Level 1. No big deal, I like Level 1 classes very much. But what I had forgotten is how hard they are! Movement is very slow, very deliberate, and very refined. There was clarification on mula bandha and uddiyana bandha. The focus was on moving in stillness; not restoratively per se, but mindfully.

Why oh why do we move away from this kind of class?

Over and over again, I heard “use your breathing systems” and “organize the pose.” What a luxury to hear this, to be in tune with this, to do this. To organize, specifically.

Take your home or your desk, for instance. When there is clutter and disorganization there, don’t you feel stress? A little tightness in the chest or shoulders? As though you can’t find something?

When we take the time to organize, to put things in a better spot, or to simply declutter the pose and the mind…we breathe easier and with less effort. We can concentrate more fully and feel more connected to the pieces of ourselves: our arms, our legs, our pelvis, our spine, our top palate. We can move from the external to the internal, and from there, we learn to move from the internal back out to the external.

Today, my intention is to keep it simple.

There’s freedom there.

No related posts.

Powerful Panties, Part Deux.

mary — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 03:29:45 +0000

One of the most eloquent, honest, soul-baring words in the English language is, in my opinion, the word “authentic:”

True to one’s own personality, spirit, or character.

Not false or imitation.

To live in authenticity, then, is why I share with you my dilemma of the powerful panties. When we are able to share our fears, our misguided moments, our hilarious capers in trying to fit into yoga clothes after having babies, we realize that our kula, our community, goes both deep and wide. As I listened to other moms around me talk about fearing their return to yoga asana practice because they had to bend over in their ill-fitting clothes and wonder aloud about how long it will take to return to shape, I couldn’t help but lament with and confess to them that I had worn Spanx (see previous post) to teach a class recently. It is just so hard to embrace and love our bodies in this state at times.

But listen carefully. We each know, down to our core, our power and beauty in giving our bodies to our babies. We each know how precious each little stretch mark or resistant belly pooch is. We each know the absolute miracle this thing that is called “giving life.” Many times, our partners travel that path of “a few extra baby pounds” with us (and bless you for that).

For us to be authentic, truly authentic, we embrace both the beauty of swollen breasts and wider hips AS WELL AS mourning the body that was while looking forward to the body that will be. For me, the powerful panties were a reminder of that. They were also a call back to the beginner’s mind so frequently called upon in my yoga practice.

So this week, in my beginner’s mind, here is my focus:

Enjoying of the softness of my belly as my baby curls up against me to nurse
Being tender in my practice as I regain strength in my core, specifically in mula bandha practice and in poses such as navasana, bakasana, and adho mukha vrksasana
Finding humor in the fact that I actually have cleavage once every three hours
Being ok with actually talking about all of this with my friends AND on this blog (this is huge and scary for me)

And with a deep breath, I click on the “publish” button, hoping to hear from you and about your “me too” moment.

Yoga Rocks!

mary — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 03:06:26 +0000

Well, this looks cool! I was just sent an email from a friend about Yoga Rocks Mountain Fest ’09 in Lyons. Check it out – and I hope to see you there!

Habitat. For Humanity.

mary — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 01:42:41 +0000

One of my friends recently posted a quote on my Facebook page by Dr. Nils Bergman: “The mother is the baby’s habitat.” That, dear readers, has encouraged quite the pause in my life.

Imagine this with me: unmasked adoration on my baby’s chubster face when he sees me (especially when he’s hungry); seriously sweet hugs when I pick him up and he buries his precious, Burt’s Bees-scented fuzzy head into my neck; terribly loud toots when he pulls his feet toward his slobbery mouth; quiet little sighs as he nurses during those dark and tender midnight hours. I smell of a mixture of milk, lavender soap, buttermilk lotion, and you-don’t-want-to-know-what-else.

I am somone’s habitat.

Daddy just can’t quite cut the muster right, now, and oh have we tried. We both know the day will come when I will be trumped by worms to bait a hook with, skateboarding lessons, dirt, and baseball with Dad and big bro. But right now, I’m … it.

Pretty cool.

So to cherish this, to cherish him, and to save this habitat from insanity, I take a breather from teaching in the evenings. Here’s to you, and to all that you hold dear.

my obsession.

mary — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 22:16:45 +0000

Often the hands will solve a mystery

that the intellect has struggled with in vain.

Carl G. Jung

I have an obsession. It’s not a secret to those who know me or have been around me for any period of time. It’s something about which I read, practice, and luxuriate.

I love touch.

Lately, I have been reading book after book and article upon article about the benefits of being held. Did you know that you can regulate a baby’s heartbeat and bring more oxygen into their system simply by holding them skin to skin? Or, how about the ability to boundlessly thrive in animals who have mothers who hold them v. those who are fed but not cuddled? Do you remember a time being tremendously upset by something and a simple touch on the shoulder brought you to your knees in such release that you were able to breathe again? And let’s not overlook the intense pleasure and passion that ignites when your lover strokes the back of your neck just before a sweet kiss.

Touch intensifies everything. In fact, it’s how I knew I would marry my husband: from the first moment he touched me, he did so with his whole hand. It was such sweetness and such a sense of safety that I knew I was home. It was simply the bridge between my emotional self and my intellectual self – the marriage before the marriage, if you will.

Touch can be physical or emotional. Whichever it is, it can be piercing, yes? Here are some of my favorite touches:

Nuzzling my baby’s barely-there neck and smothering it with kisses
Spooning, early morning, with my husband
Cuddling up with my preschooler and reading a silly book
Receiving a hug from my mom – she has the most enveloping, soft, and complete embrace I’ve ever known
Being licked by my ever-teething baby across my shoulders and jaw
Touching my hands to my belly, ribs, and heart to feel my body breathe in quiet meditation

Tell me, how have you been touched lately?

mary, mary, quite contrary…

mary — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 04:38:47 +0000

It really doesn’t make any difference where you meet your edge; just meeting it is the point. -Pema Chodron

This week has been one of true inspiration. Nothing profound happened, really. I simply received a text message from my neighbor suggesting that we trade perennials to expand our flower gardens. I was hesitant, because I didn’t think I had anything to give her and I wasn’t sure that she’d have anything that I would want to take. I had planned and planned and PLANNED my garden three seasons ago and have just been watching the plants and trees we put in at that time becoming more mature.

I had set my mind.

Nevertheless, I invited my neighbor over and showed her what I had, again, hesitantly because I wasn’t really wanting to give anything up, and as we talked I realized that 1) I have crowded and clumpy spots and bare spots; 2) my neighbor has a great eye for structure, placement, and color; and 3) my garden could use some definite rearranging and new perspective. We then walked over to her backyard and I saw LOTS of stuff that I wanted. I began asking for this plant and that flower and before I knew it we had planned a transplant and swap date for week after next. I am SO excited for that day!

And how inspiring it is to feel a shedding of what I thought was final! To extend the “edge” in my private garden sanctuary and push a boundary of comfort to which I had been clinging so tightly, yet so unaware.

Isn’t it interesting that the little colloquialisms we use are ones such as, “planting our feet” and “digging in our heels.” These phrases have such a finality to them, when they should infer the very opposite: planting to root and grow, digging to find depth and nourishment to be healthy.

This week, I plan to start a transformation in the garden of my life. These are some of the ways I will meet and push my edge of giving and receiving:

Restoratively work in Upavishta Konasana
Gift my preschooler undivided attention during the baby’s morning naptime instead of cleaning or Facebooking or Tweeting
Receive and digest the compliments that my husband so freely gives, without deflecting them with self-degradation or sarcastic humor
Call my parents and listen genuinely
Engage boundlessly in a long distance relationship with my oldest son
Breathe in deeply, and exhale completely

What is planted in your garden?

No fear.

mary — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:48:34 +0000

In almost every class I’ve taught lately, I’ve asked the question, “What would you like to work on today?” Inevitably, hips and lower back work are requested, which admittedly are a constant source of collected stress. But what about those poses that we…hate. Fear. Shy away from. “Those” poses were always the ones that miraculously made me have an instant urge to go the bathroom. Yep, that was me, sneaking out of class for a few minutes, which ironically was about the same amount of time the rest of the class spent in “that” pose.

But why the need to escape? Fear of what? Let’s look more closely:

Fear of embarrassment. I can’t do it. My body doesn’t move that way. I’ll look ridiculous. I’ll fall over or down. I’m afraid I’ll pass gas (Yes, I said it. You know that you’ve been afraid of that one! There’s even a pose referred to as “wind relieving pose.” In a public class? No thank you!).

Good ol’ competitiveness. I won’t be able to perform the pose like that person over there. I used to be able to do this when I was in better shape/younger/more flexible/insert here, but now I can’t.

Fear of pain or injury. I broke my ankle a while back and I don’t want to balance on it because I don’t know if it will hold me. I can’t go upside down! I might fall or my arms aren’t that strong.

These are all very, very valid feelings. And they are important. These all keep us from putting ourselves at risk of injury, make us feel in control, and allow us to skirt what we may see as failure.

But what if we could succeed?

What if, by faith, we take a chance and taste the sri? Taste the abundance, the joy, the grace and beauty of falling back into the Divine and being caught by it? Open to something bigger than ourselves by allowing our yoga to emerge from deep inside?

Here are some ways I will dance with sri this week:

Lean way back in side plank pose (vashistasana).
Give in to a piece of dark chocolate. Savor.
Smile at someone, as a gift.
Skip like a goofball with my four-year-old. In public.
Grab my husband’s cute booty without giving a flip about whether or not it seems appropriate. And then let him grab mine, even though it’s not nearly as firm as his.
Practice handstand – one foot further away from the wall.

How will you dance?

That’s so rad.

mary — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 23:31:46 +0000

I thought I broke my tailbone. Yep, in the wee hours of the morning a couple of weeks ago, tired from travel and children thrown off schedule from it, my foot slipped out from under me while I was headed downstairs (with the babe in my arms, no less), and I slammed, butt first, down on the stairs. I think I might have bounced down them a couple of times, but was more worried about my three-month-old than anything. Luckily, we were both just severely startled.

After my breath returned and my husband and I both did a thorough check of our youngest one, I realized that my booty was SORE. After a week or so of mostly standing and only sitting when absolutely necessary, I went to the chiropractor. God love her, I’m on the mend, with a bruised backside and coccyx, but no broken tailbone.

As always, I ponder at this at the learning opportunity it is. As I sit here on my boppy typing away, I’m reminded of how many times students have asked me what exactly I mean by “scoop your tailbone.” How often in my own practice I’ve worked at tucking that little sucker in downward-facing dog. The times I’ve tried to send it back in Utkatasana (chair pose). Its purpose in mulabhanda, which by the way, means “root lock”. I even asked my chiropractor what on Earth the tailbone is for anyway, for instance, is it the appendix of the butt? No, she answered incredulously. Evidently, it’s a muscle attachment. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t know that.

An “aha” moment startled to bubble up as I read an article referencing the word “radical”, so I looked up its definition. Did you know that to be radical, you arise from or go to the root of the source? How rad is that?!

So go to your root of the source this week. Maybe its contemplating how you’re connected to something from which you find inspiration. Perhaps its an examination of something in order to get closer to it. Or, it might be as simple as walking barefoot through the cool grass of springtime and wriggling your toes in the dirt.

Whatever it is, get radical!

Sticky Sticky Sticky.

mary — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 03:15:50 +0000

Check out this groovy new mat. May not do the trick in a packed studio, but I’m thinking I could totally learn to press up into a handstand on one of these…

Hip/Shoulder Opening Sequence.

mary — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 03:02:23 +0000

Tonight’s focus was on the power of three. Notice your points of balance in each pose through grounding your feet to root down and using the power in your heart to rise up to your full expression! Follow this class sequence for a great hip opening and shoulder opening practice:

Sukhasana (cross-legged pose)
Adho Mukha Svanasana (down dog)
Balasana (child’s pose)
Adho Mukha Svanasana w/ twist
Samasthiti (equal standing pose)
Vrksasana (tree pose)
Vrksasana w/ eyes closed to find balance
Surya Namaskar (sun salutation) w/ Virabhadrasana I
Crescent pose w/ twist
Parsvottanasana (standing head-to-knee pose) w/ hands on floor
Parsvottanasana w/ hands in reverse namaste
Parivrtta Trikonasana (revolved triangle)
Utthita Trikonasana (triangle pose)
Adho Mukha Svanasana
Balasana
Fire Log
Eka Pada Rajakapotasana prep (pigeon pose)
Adho Mukha Svanasana
Gomukhasana (cow-faced pose)
Balasana
Intense Eastern Stretch
Bharadvajasana (twist)
Knees to chest
Savasana