Not So Rosie the Riveter

Today was my first day back to complete second series after almost 3 months of practicing only primary while in Mysore. How did it go you ask? Well, lets just say I am no Rosie the Riveter. I am always amazed when I become very conscious and in tune with my body. Because of my background in gymnastics I have always felt that there was an ease in the physical practice. Not that I don't have to work hard, but I believe there is a memory of flexibility and strength. There is an aspect of the asanas that just come naturally, and sometimes without consciousness of how the postures are manifesting. This has its positives and its negatives. One draw back is sometimes I am not as connected with the physical. Today I was.

For the past 2 years I have practiced second series with consistent regularity. My body got to a point where the movement flowed with some level of steadiness. My muscles remembered each pose, each intention. Unknowingly, the strength was there and was growing. What I am amazed with is there I was so unaware of the strength I had built up. The energy paths that I developed. I was completely in the dark about how my practice had grown. How my body had grown.

When I began my practice today I was not aware of the realization that I would have. As I moved through the postures, not only did I have to think very hard about the order but it was like I was dragging my body, struggling through every pose. The things that have always come easily, were difficult. Poses that I just move right into needed every ounce of energy and concentration to get into. All the strength that I had developed seemed completely absent. Gone. This practice was such a tangible experience that has really opened my eyes to how important it is to take care of the body. Nothing is permanent.

My teacher commented on my Kapotasana today. This has to be one of the most uncomfortable poses in second series. He said..."hold it longer." HOLD IT LONGER! HOLD IT LONGER! He clearly did not get the memo that this pose is lacks any comfort is any way shape or form:) When I asked him what he meant he said..."hold it longer and really feel the circular flow of energy from the head and hands into the feet." I get this...at least in the mental aspect. Tomorrow I will try to get it on the physical and energetic level....maybe....if I can hold it longer.

Day Light Savings

I have been the biggest blog slacker. My last two weeks in India went completely unreported. Not even a picture to document my travels.

In attempt to make up for lost time I have posted some pictures from the last two weeks in India. I hope you enjoy.

Since being back things have been moving at a somewhat fast pace. In the span of two weeks I have passed my midwifery boards, decided to probably move out of Philly, met with a real estate agent about selling our house, and got a job interview! So much change happening so quickly. It is exciting and scary all at the same time.

Practice has been very sweet since being back. There is something deeply comforting about practicing next to friends. Practicing next to people who you have seen day in and day out, spent early early mornings with, laughed next to, and maybe even occasionally fallen over onto their mats. There are a lot of new people, and I still feel a little like I have been away forever and missed a big transition period, but I am sure this will pass.

This morning I arrived at the studio, at what I thought was on time. I was so confused. The room was packed and everyone was almost half way though their practice. It was only at the moment that I laid my mat down that I realized it was day light savings! Silly Me.

A Practice of the Self

It is my last week of practice in Mysore. I am both sad and joyous. For some reason today I am in a bit of a funk. Not sure why and cannot pinpoint the origin. I guess everyone has a bad day.

Practice was good. Strong. Steady. I caught my calves in dropbacks and stood on my own for the whole 5 breaths. This is something I never imagined possible.

There is a lot that I never imagined possible that has happened on this trip. Unfortunately, I dont think that it would all translate in a blog. I have had numerous "ah-ha" moments and really grown in both my practice and in my spirit. I have done a lot of deep exploration of my body and my mind. It is because of this that I am excited about returning home in 2 weeks. I am constantly questioning myself and challenging myself to stay rooted in what I have learned here. I am aware of the difficulty of transplanting information and knowledge from one environment into another environment, but am ready to take on the task.

I was discussing self-practice with a friend today, and in thinking about it all now, these are my thoughts in a much more broad interpretation. In the end it is you and only you. There will be teachers, friends, community, but ultimately you determine your path, your progress, your destination. It is not how others see you, but how you see yourself, connect with that self, and accept that self. Ultimately, that is what matters and that is where happiness is cultivated. From within.

Here in Mysore, in the shala, I feel very connected with the notion of self-practice. Even though there are many practicing at once, and the shala is filled from wall to wall, there is a level of individuality, singularity, and independence. For the most part, you are left to your self to "figure" things out and amazingly...you do. In many ways I think a better term would be "a practice of the self." Just as other realizations that I have had here, I am not sure that feeling is measurable or describable.

Trice and I went to the palace the other night. It is completely lit up for 1 hour on Sundays. It was beautiful and more than we ever expected. The day before we spend the afternoon wondering around the market.

I promise to stop being such a slacker and make sure to blog these last few days. I am unsure what the last 2 weeks of travel with hold with regards to internet access, but I will try to post at least some pictures.

Smacking into Sharath

Yes. I smacked into Sharath during practice today! It is not as tragic as it sounds, and was actually a little funny. I will have to thank David G. for this one:) I have adopted the practice of jumping into the foundational poses, instead of just stepping back into them. Well. This morning I had the lovely privileged to be smack (hehe) dab in the middle of the room. I was all "feeling the energy" and really into my practice this morning...you know, one of those 100% focused moments that are so rare. I about to move into utthita parsvakonasana (extended side angle). I prep. Bend my knees. Bring my arms together. And JUMP! SMACK! My right hand slammed into Sharath's left shoulder. I immediately apologized. He just laughed at me and said something that I totally missed because I was so mortified. He seemed to find the whole event quite humorous. That's what I get for being so focused:)

I thought I would post something a bit on the lighter side today. Here is a short list of interesting things that happened to me today while floating around India:

1. Tiger balm is super super super cheap here. I spent 20 rupees on one bottle. That is like 50 cents!

2. Prescription strength ibuprofen is over the counter. Yes, I got 600mg tabs with no prescription, and it only cost about 30 rupees. And they are bright pink! I can only imagine that if you werent a health care provider or didnt have any idea about how many milligrams were in certain medications, that one could get into some serious trouble at the pharmacy. (see picture above)

3. Contact solution can also be purchased at the pharmacy only and, unlike in the US where a bottle cost me $8, here it is a whopping 100 rupees.

4. Who knew that Roald Dahl, the author of all the famous children's books, is also the author of scary short stories too! So exciting. The caption under the title is "perfect bedtime stories for those who relish sleepless nights."

5. I am finally caving in and reading "Atlas Shrugged." Trice has already warned my that it may not speak to my "socialist" ideas:)

6. A roti (similar to a tortilla) with unrefined sugar is YUMMY! Definitely does not make me nauseous.

7. Rickshaw drivers are not like taxis in NY. Many times they have no idea where they are going and often have to ask for directions....multiple times.

8. I have a scarf addiction.

Trice and I have been fighting off a head cold for the past week. She is a few days behind me and feeling the worst of it. Those pink ibuprofen are coming in handy. I posted a picture of Trice hiding out under the covers, sleeping. She blended right into the bed.

It is to bed early for us tonight. Led practice at 4:30am!

Irritated With Every Rub

My best friend has a quote that is permanently posted at the end of every email. Where some people put their professional titles and place of employment, she instead has one of the most beautiful and profound quotes.

"If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?"
~Rumi

I was irritated this morning. No doubt about it. I awoke to extreme irritation at the alarm clock. Why are you going off so early?! Why cant I just sleep a little longer. I dragged myself out of bed, headed to the bathroom, and flicked on the light. Why light are you so bright?! Still half asleep, I almost brushed my teeth with tap water. Wouldnt that be a lovely experience. Once our stuff was all collected, Trice and I headed to practice. We walked most of the way in silence, broken only with an occasional sniffle related to the end of my cold and a little cough from Trice as she develops the cold. My spot in the room this morning was all the way in the corner by the women's locker room. This may seem like a rather bad spot since there is mass quantities of traffic flowing through that area, but, I thought to myself, it is better than yesterdays spot near the entry door. Everythin g on my mat irritated me. I felt like I was being scrubbed with a brillo pad. My body was tight (could be the pizza I ate yesterday afternoon). My nose was running. My head hurt. My eye was twitching. The person in front of me was hogging the space. You get the point. Seed chewing galore on my mat this morning.

It is funny because I dont know what brings on days like this. Some people are very in tune with what causes days like this. Maybe sugar. Maybe alcohol. Maybe eating too late. I have yet to determine the cause of practices like today's. I was so acutely aware of how I was feeling today. With only a 9 practices left till Trice and I head to the north to travel a bit, I am feeling like the end is so close and my time so limited. I love this practice. It makes me so in tune and observant of how I am feeling, whats going on in my mind/body/spirit. This practice polishes me. It is uncomfortable. Some days it sucks. Some days you just want to lay on your mat and cry. But polish it does. This whole experience is really scrubbing me, and not in that toxic silver polisher kind of way. This trip is giving me a lot of space to grow and understand me and my practice. And the amazing part is that it is because of me that I am being polished. I am questioning myself. Questioning the ins and outs of my practice. Delving deep and uncovering me. Not what others think of me, or what others think I should think or do or say. Just good old me finding out about me.

As I headed towards back bends today, I thought, please dont let Sharath come over to assist me. He will make me grab my calves, and I am in no way in the mood. But, as luck would have it he strolled right over. I took a deep breath, crossed my arms, and prepared for the worse. Inhale, exhale back. Inhale up, exhale back. Inhale up, exhale back. Inhale up, arms up, exhale slowly slowly slowly go back. He grabbed my right hand. One ankle. He grabbed my left hand. Other ankle. He grabbed my left hand again. Right calf. Left hand. Left calf. Breathe. Oh, wow, I am balancing on my own...if only for a second! Inhale up. "Much better" he said. Irritation lifted. It must have been residing in my spine:)

Someone asked me at breakfast today whether I was excited to be heading home soon. Its seems such a funny question for some reason. Isnt everyone excited to go home at the end? We learn so much here and half the fun is going home an applying it all. I am excited to go home (when the time comes). I am excited because I realize how much I miss everyone. I realize home much I love my home. I miss my family and friends. I miss my yoga community. I am excited to head home soon, a little more polished and shiny. Maybe even a sparkler. My spirit feels invigorated.

Pictures: Last week when we climbed all the stairs to the temple there was a small house with an OM symbol painted on the front door. I think maybe this may be in my fount door's future. Yes, I know....how could I eat Dominos!! I would never in 100 years eat this at home, but desperate times call for desperate measures. There is no price for a settled stomach.

My Teacher

It has been a few days since I have blogged. Partly because I have been sick and the other part because no one would want to read about me lying around reading my book. I spent all of yesterday (except for practice and conference with Sharath) sleeping and resting in bed. I have been downing mass quantities of water in hopes that I can flush my body of whatever is holding it hostage. Today I feel on my way to better. At conference Sharath talked about practicing when we dont want to. I felt like he was talking right to me. Back home, I probably would have stayed in bed on Sunday morning and not practiced. However, while it was not pleasant, it was not as tragic a practice as I thought it would have been. I hope I can take this new resurgence in dedication back home with me to Philly.

Practice was surprising today. Yesterday, I about near had to drag myself on to my mat, and I was a bit concerned that today would be as difficult. However, it went swimmingly. I felt well rested, had a good spot with lots of room, and was reminded about how much the breath can tell you about your practice. Last week I was given Krounchasana. I practiced through Krounchasana (which is a lot more open after practicing primary series) and prepared for back bending. I did my three urdvha dhanurasanas and came to stand...to Sharath's face. "You do krounchasana?" I replied yes and asked if he wanted to see. He looked at me and said "No. I believe you. Wednesday you do Salabasana and Bhekasana. Both." And that was that. I did three half drop backs and then grabbed my calves. No big deal:)

I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be a teacher and am sure have exhausted Trice's ears with chatter about it. More specifically what it means for me to call someone "my teacher." In the dictionary is states: a teacher is someone who teaches or instructs. Now, forget the fact that you are not supposed to use the word in the definition, but I do not think that this does any justice to the profession of teaching or that it gives any idea of what it truly means to be a teacher. Uneasy as it makes me feel to say this out loud, I feel a bit lost when it comes to identifying someone as my yoga teacher. I place teachers in very high regard (especially because my mother was one...and still is in essence) and really set the bar high. I really love the student teacher relationship and the dance that exists between them. I thrive well as a student and really embrace that role. Sharath definitely meets that bar and then soars above it. I trust him to guide my practice. My body trusts him (I know this because my body responds, not in tension, but in acceptance). I trust what he tells me. This would be all fine and dandy if I lived here in India and could practice with him always, but this is not the case. I will leave Mysore in 2 weeks, and in another 2 weeks I will be home. Sharath will always be my teacher, but I deeply desire this connection back home. This new revelation makes me a bit uneasy and I am not sure that this blog even articulates my thought process. Maybe I should be keeping this all to myself and just plug along on my path, but it feels better to write it down. I used to feel connected to a teacher during my first year or so, but times change and so does the world around us. I have to admit to myself that I am looking for someone to call "My Teacher."

On Saturday we went to the Metropol, which is a fancy hotel, for lunch. The hotel is like something out of a movie. It is very reminiscent of British colonialism. I felt like I was in the movie "Lawrence of Arabia." We ate and chatted and just enjoyed. The pictures above are from out trip.

In My Past Life....

I have not blogged in a few days because our days have been a little lazy and uneventful. It has been a nice little pause from all the chaos and allowing my reserves to refill.

Yesterday Trice and I went to past life regression therapy. Now, for those of you who have never heard of this (as I had not until Trice brought me into the loop), it is a practice that allows you to see/address/view your past lives. You come with an issue that you are working on in this life and, hopefully, you go to the past life that is influencing that issue or a past life where you were able to resolve that issue. I was skeptical and a bit nervous. What if, in a past life, I was an ax murder? a wife abuser? a republican?!

And so, I went for my session. Without giving all the nitty-gritty of it and boring you, I will jump to the interesting part. My issue you ask? Anxiety. Never feeling good enough. Fear. This was my "issue" for the day. And so I entered into a past life and this is what I saw. My name was Cynthia, Cindy for short. At the age of 3 I saw my mother fall from a step stool in the kitchen, hit her head on the counter, and die immediately. As a child I was a bit plump and enjoyed sweets, which is what had brought me into the kitchen where I saw my mother's death. Taken in by an older neighbor woman, I grew up to be very obese (think the movie "Shallow Hal" as a size reference) who was lonely. I had no friends because I felt I was not good enough and I lived my life in solitude. I worked in a bookstore and never dated. At the age of 56, I died of a heart attack alone in my bedroom. I had so many feelings of fear, loneliness, and inadequacy that it was palpable. I know this sounds very depressing and very sad, but Kumar (the past life therapist) then asked the self in the past life what I would tell the me of now. I said "Be happy. Just let it go."

I am not sure what effect, if any, this session will have on me, but the experience that I had was profound. The true and tangible emotions that come of this cannot be denied. I can see the connections that past life could potentially have on this life. I want to believe that I was able to let something go. I have signed up for one more session, and if anything, it was a great experience. I mentioned this to Mark in an email the other day and instead of scoffing at it he said "It makes sense." At least I am not totally off my rocker:)

I spend the afternoon with Jill-ji today. A nice little slice of home here in India. We went to the bookstore, then to FabIndia, and then to lunch. We gabbed, we laughed, we just enjoyed. It was lovely.

Pictures: a Pug puppy in a laundry basket taking a nap in style; Trice with the monkey that ate my banana