Making stars

I am thoroughly enjoying "Packing for Mars" by Mary Roach. Blasting off into the cosmos with Mary is exactly what I need right now, and it -- funny how that happens -- goes along so well with some themes that have emerged in yoga in recent weeks.  Here is what is striking me this morning:

Gravity is why there are suns and planets in the first place.  It is practically God.  In the beginning, the cosmos was nothing but empty space and vast clouds of gases.  Eventually the gases cooled to the point where tiny grains coalesced.  These grains would have spent eternity moving through space, ignoring each other, had gravitational attraction not brought them together. Gravitation is the lust of the cosmos.

This is precisely how yoga has been feeling lately, that we could all be these individual particles blowing past each other in space, but somehow the practice exerts a pull on some of us and then those some of us exert a pull on others of us, until -- bam! -- a star is formed, kula is born.  And though we disperse, the gravitational attraction remains and we form and re-form, in the same pattern, over and over.

Naturally, I think I am using my will to arrive at the right place, right time, but from there, something else is in charge, I swear it.  Something beyond will. There's this sense at the start of class of acceleration, then lift-off, like some unseen force is kicking in, something beyond me or the other particles in the room, and boom, off we go into a delectable spin.

I feel like I might be talking a little crazy for some of you, but that's OK.  It sometimes feels a little crazy -- ok, sometimes downright spooky -- to be inside this sensation, inside it repeatedly.  

There's something truly delicious about it, as though we're participating over and over in the creation and expansion of the cosmos itself, as delirious as that sounds.  But it's truly miraculous, and fun, and satisfyingly challenging.

In that context, it's funny to read about people actually packing for space, training for weightlessness and life in a capsule orbiting the planet.  From where I sit this morning, it's crystal clear that for lift-off no NASA required.  To experience the euphoria of space, it just takes that bumping of particles into form -- you and your friends, on the mat, again.

Home practice: so much easier with guest stars!

Getting to a yoga class has been challenging for a number of reasons lately: loss of some time-flexibility at work, as well as a desire to be home with family instead of away until after dark and dinner.  I've been missing time on my mat, and feeling it.

Then along comes Darren Rhodes's yogahour iPhone app (iTunes, $2.99), which made its big premiere in my dining area today, kicking off my new attempt at a home practice.  Oh yeah, so much easier to get and stay on the mat when I have someone talking me through a sequence.  And Darren, the literal poster-boy of Anusara: how to say enough good things about him?  I've had the good fortune to attend several weekend workshops at YogaKula San Francisco, co-taught by Darren and Sianna Sherman.  Darren is inspiring, funny, real.

So, it was pretty awesome to have his voice in my house, putting me through my paces between 6:30 and 7:30 this morning.

The format sure worked for me.  It was easy to commit to one hour, during a time when Joe was out walking Jasper so I would be less distracted.  Yes, because there is an absence of pronouns and articles, sometimes the instruction's a bit telegraphic, but that's fine.  The stripped narration makes some little gems shine, like "eyes soft, heart determined" which is clearly still ringing in my head.

Laura will be happy to know that her favorite "Mix Master" pose is included in the one-hour practice, called "Cosmic Abs" instead!

At this point, since I can't get to my favorite class tonight or Friday, I am going to do this yogahour daily until Saturday, when I can re-join the kula in Sausalito, and then beyond, trying to get to my mat daily.  I'm excited to have some guidance -- master guidance at that! -- helping me with this new practice at home.

Austerity #2: Saumya -- soft outside, diamond-strong inside

After four days of working Austerity #2, saumya, at work last week, I think I may have found a key, if not The Key, not only to how to get through however much longer I am going to have to stay in this job, but also to just getting along better in the world. Saumya is just another way of saying the thing I keep hearing in yoga, about being soft on the outside and diamond-strong on the inside, a big big challenge for me but clearly I need to keep hearing it and get on with doing it already.

The way that saumya manifested for me at work was that I proceeded about my tasks more slowly and I chose my words far more deliberately, going for a gentleness of expression. I took the "knowing exactly how much strength to apply in any given situation, using just as much force as necessary, nothing more" as instructions on how to communicate. Really, I feel like mostly that's all my work really is, moving information from one set of people to another. And in several difficult situations, I was glad to be able to express an idea, provide a suggestion or difference of opinion with strength but without sharpness. Now that's some saumya for sure, and oh so very much more effective. Not every situation calls for a knife.

And at work, I do believe I am known more for the knife.

The combination of the manah-prasadah and the saumya -- contentedness of mind and gentleness -- made for a much more pleasant work day, and one I could walk away from 100% when I walked out the door. I was clear and direct but without rancor. Added bonus: I don't feel like I carried home any of the usual gunk, maybe because I didn't accumulate any. Aha, very, very interesting.

Don't get me wrong: my days in this occupation are numbered because I really do need to get off my a** and do the thing I'm here for, and soon. But at least working these yogic austerities is helping me be present where I have to be right now with a whole lot more grace and joyfulness, way less bitching and moaning. How delightful that I'm about to add austerity #3 to the menu for the week: mauna, silence. Now that will be really fun.

Pranayama and Percocet

My Goal #2 for this gear is to reduce the frequency of migraines I experience. Sometime in my 30s I started with migraines, and last year they really became an utter plague. Seems every time I turned around, I had another. And it's so weird that someone, me, who does so much yoga (presumably relaxing, self-caring) still couldn't get a leg-up on this regular skull-crushing. So in December I picked up and devoured an excellent book, "The Migraine Brain" by Dr. Carolyn Bernstein. Seriously helpful. At the same time, though, I have to say that mostly I am straddling two very different worlds: the woo-woo world of yoga with all its ayurvedic, new age-y, homeopathic trappings, and the world of pharma, which seriously saves my ass over and over again, making it possible for me to get through a work-day or a weekend or whatever without losing a beat.

Because that's the thing about me: I don't want to be stopped by anything, least of all by a migraine. So even if my head is killing me, I'll swallow whatever I have to to just keep going, do what I want, not miss out. Life doesn't stop just because the walls of my cranium are pressing in hard. I refuse to sit out. I will not spend four days in bed just because my head hurts.

And that's how I found myself, last weekend, a beautiful weekend in Tahoe with my yoga buddies and 3 hours a day of practice, swallowing percocets just to be able to sit upright on my mat and not fall over in pain. Don't get me wrong: I hate taking pills, but sometimes I really feel like I have no other option if I want to live my life the way I want to. [Sorry, that's a bit of a lie: I don't really hate taking pills, I just hate taking them when I *have* to. If it were for fun, then I wouldn't mind so much. Just didn't want to lie.]

Since January, I've had two four-day migraines. And that's an improvement! The first (January) started the night before my birthday and lasted throughout the long weekend, the last woke me up last Friday, the morning we were leaving for Tahoe, and lingered through the end of Monday. I was triumphant not to have one in February, particularly because I was really paying attention and knew exactly why.

According to "The Migraine Brain," migraines are "a complex neurological disease," "a chronic neurological illness you were born with." The migraine brain is "high-maintenance, hypersensitive, demanding and overly excitable. It usually insists that everything in its environment remain stable and even-keeled. It can respond angrily to anything it isn't accustomed to or doesn't like." And clearly what my poor little migraine brain doesn't like is stress at work, hormones, sleeplessness, dehydration and excess caffeine. Throw the altitude of going to Tahoe into the mix, and last weekend's four-day migraine is inevitable! If I managed to escape a migraine in February, it's because during the precise week that I was in most danger of the killer head-pain [the book says 2 days before your period, migraine is 71% more likely to occur], I was super-hydrated, well-slept and on Cloud 9 in a 5-day yoga immersion. Yes, clearly and no-duh, my brain doesn't like my job. I don't blame it!

Now that I'm out of migraine #2 of 2010, two days free from pain and drugs, I am already planning ahead to April and watching for the warning signs that should manifest in about two weeks. I'm hoping next time I can get through it with more pranayama and less percocet, but I don't encourage betting on that.

Yoga is where I live

I'm home after Day 1 of the 5-day Immersion with John Friend in SF. Wow! It's hard to know where to even start to describe how fun, how inspiring, how awesome the day was. I am just so glad I'm doing this. Honestly, I wish I could do exactly this every single day!

I have pages and pages of notes from today, of course, and am still processing every thing we heard. If there were more hours in this day, I would re-read my notes, and read the new Immersion Part 1 curriculum that was distributed today - first-time ever that's been handed out! As it is, it's almost 8 and I just polished off dinner, and I'm feeling the virtually-irresistible draw of the couch and cozying-up under a blanket with my husband and watching something funny on tv, then retiring to my book and some ridiculously-great natural sleep.

Aaaaah, what a day. I am so looking forward to tomorrow, to hanging around with my buddies again, to learning more and to practicing for hours and hours. Sheer bliss!

Almost no matter the question, the answer = chit ananda!

Cycle 6, Day 3: The bounty of friendship, another gift of yoga

After walking with Jasper at the levies this morning (big tide rushing in, harriers trolling for their breakies), I sat with Joe by the French doors in our room for a while and watched the busy-ness of birds outside. Joe had a bit of a rough night, feeling very weak today and funky, but nevertheless left for work around 8:30, which is late for him. Not sure how long he'll last there today, honestly. Even though it's the last time, it might be the worst time, his poor body weakened by all of the chemo and side-effects that came before. Hanging in there...

I continue to be amazed at the kindness and love of the beautiful people we are so graced to call friends. Last night, darling sisters Alexandra and Gillian brought us an enormous pot of delicious chicken soup tied with a red bow, warm, delicious garlic bread, fresh and delicious zucchini bread. And a handmade sweet card. We were all delighted and dazzled by their presence, so moved by their generosity and unbelievable cuteness.

Besides the sheer delight of their presence, just how lit-up they each are, what's so awesome about it, for me, is that I only met these two lovelies in April of last year, when we had the good fortune to meet and spend a week together at Laura's retreat in Careyes, Mexico. For me, it was love at first sight, in that way I've grown to expect through yoga, that the people I meet through the practice become my fast- and heart-friends. I would do anything for them and know they would do anything for me. It's as if we've always known each other, because we see and know the truest thing about each other from the very beginning. Until last night, Alexandra and Gillian had never even met Joe, but still they came, bringing all that love for us to eat.

I never expected this, to meet such wonderful people through Anusara, to rest back into the arms of such a warm and loving community of yogis and yoginis, to be so very loved and to love so very deeply, so very madly, all these new friends all the time, every day.

The gifts of yoga are so much more than flexibility, handstands, peace of mind -- all of that is wonderful, but what is the real gift, the biggest joy, is this super-connectivity to others. I am so grateful to our teacher, Laura, who creates the conditions in which these friendships burgeon and flourish, Laura who consistently inspires each of us to see the good, the light, the beauty all around us. Through these glorious friendships, I touch the One-ness of which we truly are a part. Thanks to these lovely friends, I am reminded every day, on the mat and off, that Love is all that matters, the one and only real purpose of our time here on this earth.

XX

Sunday Service

Over and over again in yoga yesterday, Sianna and Darren, in keeping with the weekend's theme, asked us what we were in service to. They spoke a lot about Gandhi and his eleven vows -- and the 11 was the foundation, not just of the price of the classes ($11/hour!) but also of the practice (11 different back bends). Gandhi and his followers were in service of the truth. How do we serve when we practice? What do we serve in our lives?

Clearly the question sank it.

But I didn't really realize it until I was in the shower just now and thinking about whether or not to go today, to the final in the series of classes. I was just thinking about going to the nursery and looking at plants that our bees would like, and of being in service to our bees. Whose lives are lived in service, really, to the needs of the hive.

And then I remembered how yesterday's class felt so much like being in the hive, surrounded by the thrum of all of the other happy bees in the room, held up and held together like members of one community, devoted to one end.

So of course I'll go today. Because on such a deep level, the practice is service, so it doesn't matter if I'm tired, if I'm a bit daunted. What matters is being there, doing my best, participating in this great service.

And could there be any better way to spend a Sunday?