Defining Myself as a Teacher of Yoga

I mentioned in my previous blog post that life events seemed to be pulling me deeper into teaching yoga, despite my plans to develop other aspects of my health and wellness consultancy, such as Reiki and Eating Psychology Coaching. Since then, I've also noticed that I'm being asked to identify what I really value when I teach yoga to a group of students. Here's the example that's driving this reflection.

I currently teach a range of yoga classes. In a single week, I may teach (in order of advertised difficulty): restorative or chair yoga, gentle yoga, hatha yoga, vinyasa flow yoga, and hot power yoga. Currently the former classes occur mostly at a studio; the latter at various local gyms.

What I often hear from students at the gyms is that my teaching is "slow". Most quickly follow that description with smiles and gratitude, telling me how much they appreciate it. A few seemingly present it to me with some disdain, as if I'd somehow gotten in the way of their intense stretching workout. Yet even when I create and offer faster and more challenging sequences for the super fit gym yogis, I watch as they consistently:

• Don't align themselves in the postures correctly, regardless of my cues
• Can't keep up with the speed of the flow
• Take respite in child's pose (which is awesome, by the way!)
• Are dripping sweat
• Can't focus their attention 
• Can't coordinate their breath with their movements
• Scrunch up their faces and hold their breath
• And so on....

Now, I'm not saying this to rag on any of my students. What is puzzling to me as a teacher is this: when I see these things, I do not feel that it's in anyone's best interest for me to pick up the pace, or otherwise add intensity. At the most basic level, my top priority is to keep my students safe from injury, so they have the opportunity to practice again tomorrow. Regardless of my plans for any class, I always adjust to the feedback I'm getting as I look and walk around the room. So what are these yogi's who negatively comment about my slow teaching pace searching for?

A former dance instructor was able to relate to my confusion. He said, "you are trying to teach people to dance, and they just want patterns." Meaning, the point at which a dance move or a yoga posture can be executed correctly (physically) is not the END of the learning process; rather, it's just the beginning. Yet many people who have difficulty executing even the basic physical shape in yoga classes--e.g. those who would be aided greatly by the use of props but refuse to use them--keep wanting more, to "skip ahead" to...I don't know what. Maybe it's just cultural: everything in our lives is so quick these days; slowing down to really feel into our bodies, our minds, our emotions, our souls is the real challenge, and it's too much. We'd rather continuing to distract with speed. (Believe me, I can relate.) However, truly advanced yoga students understand that this is the real intensity of their practice: yoga as a "work-in" (as opposed to a "work-out")*.

Anyway, this is a long way of saying that such paradox is making me think more clearly about what I value as a teacher of yoga (rather than a "yoga teacher"). My initial training in teahing yoga by two of the best yoginis at one of the most reputable yoga schools in the country started me on this journey, and I continue to develop and learn through my own experience what I feel is important to pass along to my students.

Regardless of where I teach, what my title or the official class title is, creating a safe space (through my languaging, my use of the environment, and my pacing) that allows students to explore themselves not just physically, but also mentally and emotionally is of utmost importance to me. That is how I define myself as a teacher of yoga, how I feel most authentic and true. It's how I maintain my integrity, and it's the kind of relationship I always want to cultivate with my students.

Teachers of yoga, have you experienced similar contradictions? Students, tell me your thoughts on "slow" classes.

An endless student of yoga,
Kali


*As stated by Judith Hanson Lasater

Do you smile when you're practicing yoga?

As a yoga instructor at both a studio and a gym, I teach many students who are brand new to yoga. It's not uncommon for me to have one or more people in my class who have never done yoga before, and are feeling a little uncertain about their decision to try it.

One of the things I emphasize in my classes, beyond encouraging students to tune into the wisdom of their bodies, in addition to asking them to really pay attention to their breathing, and above asking them to (try to) stay out of their ego by only going as far as their body and their breath guide them, is to SMILE!

Most students love this, I believe because there are many things in life--family, work, school, etc.--that we all take so seriously. So when students come to my class and I encourage them to relax, strengthen, and stretch their bodies by being PLAYFUL and having some fun, the relief is almost palpable. (Balancing poses in particular are great opportunities for smiles and laughs!)

On the first yoga DVD I ever had, Baron Baptitse said (at a particularly challenging point in the class): "lift the inner corners of the lips". I often find myself using that sly phrase--among other techniques--to get people to smile during my classes. For example, when we begin to extend our legs for wide-angle forward fold, I'll joke "OK, now don't everyone get into that full split just yet!" My YTT peers might sneer when I admit to have saying, "blossom your buttocks to the sky" (which I do if I think my students will smile at the imagery). Sometimes I feel a bit like a stand-up comedian, and it's really an amazing class when the students get into it. 

When students aren't into it, I'm OK with that. I either keep trying, or if the class is entirely serious, I might tone it down a bit. What I notice though, is that it's often the students who may have been practicing yoga for awhile who don't smile, or seem to really let go.  And, I'm writing this blog because I think they may be missing out. It's been my belief that making that small change in the face--moving the muscles of the mouth into a smile--helps relax the body and release tension. Sure enough, I've discovered that there's some science to back up my hunch. :-)

The Smithsonian and Medical News Today both reported on an interesting study done for Psychological Science back in 2012, where researchers "looked at how different types of smiling, and people being aware of smiling, affected their ability to recover from stressful episodes." What they found was that smiling (even when the smiling was "faked"), reduced participants' heart rates as they attempted to perform a stressful task. The Smithsonian article states: "Since heart rate is an indicator of the body’s stress response, it seems as though the act of smiling actually reduced the participants’ overall stress level." Although there are no available sources, they also suggested there were others who indicate "that smiling could reduce levels of cortisol, a stress-related hormone."

When we are in yoga class, we are taking various shapes with the body, some of which may feel different, unnatural, or challenging (depending on our typical posture throughout the day). When we're feeling sensation in various muscles in the poses, we are in fact "stressing" the body, although in a good way. We use the breath, specifically the out-breath, to try and send relaxation, love, and compassion to those areas in the body. And, I believe more than ever before that smiling is yet another, simple and easy way to help ease the body into greater strength and flexibility during yoga.

So the next time you're in a yoga class (mine or someone else's), and you feel yourself tensing your body, losing your long deep breath, or pursing your lips in great seriousness, try putting on a smile. Like anything else you do in yoga class, let the smile be an exploration: what do you notice in your body, breath, mind, and spirit as you do this? Observe, pay attention, and then decide for yourself whether to do it again and again and again!

P.S.: For those of you who are serious (pun intended!) about taking your yoga practice off the mat, here's a short article listing some of the other benefits of smiling: http://goodrelaxation.com/2012/01/health-benefits-of-smiling/.

Assisting others: thinking more critically about when & why we do it

I recently attended a weekend yoga workshop, and felt so grateful to get back into my own yoga practice. I've been teaching like crazy, and as a result, I don't think I've taken a class for myself in months. It was fabulous, and an experience that, with another recent one, got me thinking about when and why we assist others.

First, the yoga class experience. Picture me in a 90-minute hot yoga class, one of those where mats are about an inch apart from each other and sweat is flying everywhere. I'm thrilled to be there but have been suffering mentally / emotionally and physically, literally getting 3 hours of sleep the night before, and going through a lot of personal "stuff".

I'm in down dog, playing with the posture the way I've been trained (in the Kripalu style). In this particular moment, I had my palms slightly turned out to be able to breathe more comfortably into the posture and take care of my wrists and shoulders. One of the instructors at the studio that was hosting the workshop came over to me, repositioned both my palms to face forward, and pressed my hands down. I looked up at her and said, "actually that variation feels better for me", and (perhaps stubbornly) put my hands back where I originally had them.

Now when I was trained, I loved assisting. And, I hardly do it in my classes, because there's a part of me that always feels like it's an invasion of the students' personal experience. (Of course, if something is a potential health risk, I give verbal cues to get them to realign.) This instructor just appeared (vs. approached me slowly to let me know she was coming in), didn't ask if she could help, etc. So OK, that's one thing, the initial assist.

However, what I experienced after that made more of an impact on me. I found myself distracted by her walking around the room, watching to see who she assisted, feeling slightly worried that she was going to come up to me and adjust me in a position that would have been more detrimental (e.g. the time she pressed down near someone's ankle/foot in Warrior II, which for me would have been awful as I'm recovering from an Achilles injury, or the time she touched a woman in a tentative balancing posture).  I also noticed her touching the shoulders of a woman who was taking a break, sitting simply in Vajrasana, which made me wonder what her motivations for assisting where. Was she simply doing it to feel like she was doing something? Obviously I don't know for sure. And, as a yoga instructor not teaching the workshop, it's easy to see how she might feel that she needed to play a role.

Second, a friend recently posted an article to Facebook called "Please don't help my kids". Knowing nothing about raising kids, I decided to comment on his sharing of the article, noting: "As someone who probably knows less than you and is/has been stubbornly independent, I can't help but think there's a balance to be found in there too: i.e. learning when to ask for help, and being able to accept it when it's offered."

It was one of those posts that after I commented, I realized I had no business doing, and given the responses, totally regretted that decision. But why did I feel the need to comment? Because I felt had a different point of view to contribute: as a child who was raised without much nurturing assistance, knowing as an adult how that has hurt me in my relationships.

What I was trying to communicate (perhaps poorly) is that as in all things, there's probably a right "balance point". When and why we choose to assist others is something we need to think about, beyond the initial "helping" experience. Because, it's quite possible (and likely), that our assistance can leave lasting impressions.

Reflections on Teaching

As I've started teaching yoga more, I'm realizing what a true gift teachers are. In the definition of "teacher" I include people both in an official teaching capacity, as well as others who, for whatever reason (and whether we like it or not!), come into and leave our lives to teach us something we wouldn't have otherwise discovered about ourselves.

Teachers: in the official capacity
I got my first taste of teaching several years ago when I substituted as a dance instructor for a friend who was recovering from surgery. Trying to verbally communicate how I moved my body (even with demonstrations) was a difficult task. I'd been dancing for so long at that point that it was hard to articulate the minute details of what I was doing so those who didn't have that experience could understand. I also quickly learned that students interpret what they see and hear from teachers in different ways, and through their own filters on the world--which may not always be what the teacher intended. And even more interesting was how students picked up on things I did even when I didn't speak to them. (I vividly remember seeing one student bending her knee in a certain way that I always did, which I never spoke of because it was simply a bad habit. And oops, now there is someone copying my bad habit!) It took one class into the six week session for me to appreciate my teachers for their dedication to spreading the dance, and to gain a first-hand understanding of why they'd sometimes seem frustrated.

Teaching yoga is similar, and potentially even more challenging than teaching dance. It's similar in that the teacher has to verbalize what they're doing with their body, but in dance, it's completely left up to the student to find the flow of the dance, to feel the freedom and joy in the experience. I don't think any class or instructor can teach that--it has to be found by the student on their own, in their own time. But in teaching yoga (and maybe this is just my perspective as a new one) the teacher's role is not just about articulating the body positions so no one gets hurt (though that's important). It's also to use verbal and body language to create a safe emotional / mental space that assists students in finding the spaces and openings within themselves, setting the stage for self-inquiry and the spiritual side of yoga that isn't immediately obvious when performing the postures. I also know this cannot be taught. The best a yoga teacher can do is create the conditions for it to be learned, when the student is ready.

Which segues nicely into my second category of teachers: the people who come into and out of our lives to help us learn a lesson.

Teachers: as mirrors into our souls
These teachers can be (and often are) even more powerful transformers than those in an official role. Maybe that's because they almost sneak up on us, challenging us by making us think or feel things we've chosen to avoid. These teachers might help us grow by constantly pushing our buttons, by loving us in ways we never thought we could be loved, by supporting (or not supporting) us when we really need it, by being close to us and then moving on. Quite often, these life teachers are really mirrors into our souls. They show us reflections of ourselves, often without any softening or distortion. And this can be hard to take.

Have you ever had the experience of not liking someone, for no apparent reason? I have. A few months ago I met someone I had a visceral reaction to, without knowing anything about them. Sure, I could point to a few surface-level things the person did that could justify some negative feeling (maybe), but none that could explain what I felt, which bordered on hatred. (How un-yogic of me, right?) Fortunately, I kept running into this person and we got to talking here and there--me feigning interest in what they had to say--at first. It took only a few deeper conversations for me to realize how similar our pasts were, and then something clicked in me: I hated this person without knowing them because I instinctually picked up on the things I saw in them that I hated in myself. Talk about enlightening! And now because of this experience, I know that whenever I have strong feelings about someone (whether that's hatred or love), that person has come into my life to teach me something significant, and may be mirroring me as well.

The teacher appears when the student is ready?
Maybe. It's taken me 15 years to recognize the spiritual aspects of yoga. (Even though throughout my life, I've had teachers who offered the space for me to discover it. I denied it when anyone told me I was "spiritual" because heck, after 12 years of Catholic school I was anything but religious!). When I look back on notes from dance privates 5+ years ago, I see the same advice I'd get if I took one today. And it's only in the past few months that I've finally figured out what "dancing down into the floor" means--which I've gotten through the "grounding" concepts of yoga and Ayurveda. It's taken me 13 years to recognize that I can always trust my intuition, because it is always right (even when the ultimate outcome isn't what I expected), and even longer than that for me to recognize what's important in life and love.

So yes, I think teachers always appear, but regardless of whether the student is actually ready. They'll keep appearing too--as both official teachers and soul mirrors--over and over until we students are in a place where we can really entertain the lesson they're here to teach us. And once we learn a lesson, they'll be new lessons to learn. Life is learning, and learning is life.

How to Replace Complaints with Contentment

A few months ago I was in a yoga class, and the instructor said something to the effect of:

"Complaining is simply a rejection of the present moment, which is all we have."

A Google dictionary search defines "complain" as:

1. Express dissatisfaction or annoyance about a state of affairs or an event
2. State that one is suffering from (a pain or other symptom of illness)
3. State a grievance

Leaving the distinction between pain and suffering for another day, I'll admit it: I'm someone who's gotten into the habit of complaining a lot.

Santosha is the second niyama, or observance that yogis should follow. Santosha means "contentment". In other words, it's the exact opposite of complaining: it's cultivating gratitude for everything (physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual) that's going on in your life, right here, right now, regardless of whether you'd prefer to be / have something / someone / someplace else. It's not jealousy or envy but rather, radical acceptance.

Sigh. Whether or not you feel as though your life as a whole is going well, practicing santosha day to day can present us all with a challenge every now and again.

Much has been written about santosha and how the ego plays a large role in keeping us in a state of perpetual complaint instead of being satisfied and even hopeful about what is. Fortunately, several fellow yogis join us in this struggle, and offer practical advice about how to cultivate more contentment in our lives. Here are a few of my favorites:

• Four ways to focus on contentment in your day
• Pema Chodron "This Lousy World" (really amusing video)
• Suggestions for cultivating contentment
• Changing feelings of discontent into contentment
• A practice of santosha for the Thanksgiving holiday
• Santosha in the Holiday Season (added as part of my radical acceptance that people have Christmas trees up before Halloween :-) )

Hopefully, the more we focus on being content with what is, right now, the less room there will be for complaints! How will you replace your next urge to complain with contentment?

Chanting Your Way to Joy

My First Kirtan Experience
My first kirtan happened over 12 years ago, probably among one of the first couple of times I visited the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health. Back then, they had a long weekend program that included elements of yoga and Buddhist practices, both of which I was starting to explore. If memory serves, most of the four days involved an hour of yoga, an hour of seated meditation, a meal. Rinse and repeat, multiple times a day. In the evenings (before we practiced loving silence) there would be a special event of some sort, such as a lecture or group discussion. One evening, there was something called a kirtan.

I had no issues with the silence. I was shy and loved not having to worry about "making friends." Although I was getting better at meditating for an hour at a time and tolerating the caffeine-withdrawal headaches that thumped my skull against my head to the point I feared others could see it, I anticipated these evening events; they were somehow more engaging than what was going on in my thoughts or in my body. Even though I'd been forced into music by my parents as a child, I welcomed listening to music as a distraction to all this, and was curious about the strange instruments, such as the harmonium, which I saw before me on the makeshift stage.

Looking back, I realize now that while I did yoga (asanas) to strengthen and stretch my body, and meditated to focus my mind, kirtan was the third point on the triangle--the one that got at my emotions and caused me to question who I really was. I enjoyed the music, and sang along though I had no idea whether I was saying the words correctly and had no idea what they meant. But what stood out to me, which I still remember, was the spontaneous dancing. Sure, my foot was tapping, and I may have even clapped a bit. But every now and then, someone would stand up, move to the outside of the room (maybe), and dance freely, in whatever way the music moved them. It was as if the song animated their bodies from the inside, and they were oblivious to things like, say...how they might look to other people. As someone who had always enjoyed dancing, I was envious, but completely self conscious. What would people think of me if I got up and started moving in "weird" ways? I had only ever done ballet--where I was shown the steps and like most other things in my childhood, told many times when I got them less than perfect. I just couldn't do it.

That was when I saw her. A woman had stood up from her back jack and pink square cushion, and started dancing in place. She had long gray hair (which may have been in braids, breaking multiple other "rules" that I had learned about women and aging). As I watched her, my thoughts began to shift. I felt admiration toward this strange woman. In that moment I asked myself, "how do I want to live my life?" "Do I want to be the kind of person who cares so much about what others think of me that I won't do something my body is aching to do, something I know I will thoroughly enjoy?" After a few more moments, I got up and let loose.

I still don't always pronounce the words right. I still don't know what many of them mean. And I've never lasted long in a chair or cushion at a kirtan since. I'll say "thank you" to that woman, whoever you are. That night, you were my guru (teacher).

Benefits of Kirtan as a Spiritual Practice
I attended Krishna Das' "Heart of Devotion" workshop, where we chanted and he talked about how kirtan was his primary spiritual practice. He told us he chanted because he HAD to, describing it in a way that sounded as though his very life depended on it. Given that I've been going through my own personal hell recently, I could relate.

So what makes kirtan such a powerful antidote to people's "dark places in the heart", as Krishna Das describes? What is it about chanting that an help us find the happiness that resides within?

For starters, it can be an alternative for those who have trouble meditating while sitting still, in silence, or who fear yoga as something that requires twisting their bodies into pretzels. Focusing just on the sounds from the instruments and people singing has a way of drowning out unwanted and automatic negative thought patterns.

Additionally, some believe that the very practice of sounding (of which vocalizing the Sanskrit language is one possibility), has healing properties--correct pronunciation is helpful, but an open heart is more important in order to receive the benefits, which include inner peace and a sense of joy.

And then there's the sense of community and belonging that attending a kirtan with friends (and even strangers) can help one feel again. In an age where communication happens primarily via technological devices and where in many cases, regular "church going" has fallen by the wayside because of the unpopularity of religious dogma, it's just NICE to sit in a room with other kind, compassionate human beings and sing. Plus, there are now some scientific studies in contemplative neuroscience that help explain why rituals like kirtan can create a kind of "buzz".

Is Kirtan for Me?
If you're interested in learning more about kirtan, the best advice I can give you is to just jump in. Listen to music online, buy a CD for your car (in my opinion, kirtan is fantastic for helping one handle traffic jams!), or find a meetup near you. For those in the Boston area who are up for an experience, check out the Boston Yoga and Chant Fest coming up in a few weeks! It's sure to be a memorable experience.

Petitioning the Universe

Early in her book Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert describes an activity a friend had her do while she was waiting to hear from her lawyer about whether her husband finally signed their divorce papers or not. She was feeling tortured by the whole drawn out, painful experience, and just wanted to be free. Her friend encouraged her to write a "petition to God," and once she had written down what it was she really wanted, she gave Elizabeth permission to summon signatures from all the people she could think of who would be in support of her plea. After naming close friends, family, colleagues, and so on, the list became wider, until lots of people from her life or from the world at large virtually signed her petition. Of course, in true cosmic fashion, minutes later she got the call that her divorce was final.

I started listening to this book on my iPod again while at the gym the other morning, and it occurred to me that there were one (or two, or three) things in my life where I was feeling lost about, and that this might be an interesting exercise to try. (I re-frame is as "petitioning the Universe" only because that's the term I particularly feel comfortable with, after 12 years of Catholic school ruined me for the word "God", though in theory I recognize it's all the same.)

It may be obvious, but I've never had trouble writing, so I opened up to a new page in my journal and just started writing. In about a page and a half, I spilled my guts. I wrote about things I felt tortured about, and asked for help. My last free-flow statement was, "help me find some way, some answer, some light."

And then it got weird.

I heard an answer, and I wrote it down. Not really a tangible, "do this thing now" kind of answer, but an answer nonetheless. I argued. And something responded. Two parts of me, having a dialog, back and forth. Sounding like a stubborn child and a patient adult. A lost friend, with another gently and supportively putting her back in her place, making her realize what's in her control and what's not. Reminding her of things along the way that she'd forgotten. Encouraging her to have faith, to trust, and believe that the answers will come. And that she MUST wait for them, must be patient.

Then the writing just naturally stopped. The child part didn't have any other counterpoints, and there was nothing further coming through.

Methinks I need to do this more often.

Yoga's Place in the Workplace: Part 3

Today I return to my "Yoga's Place in the Workplace" series with the second yama (character-building restraint) called satya. (Please see Part 1 and Part 2 if you're curious about the others.)

The Basics of the Second Yama: Truth

Satya essentially means being a person with integrity, or one who's truthful and authentic. Deep down, most people know that outright lying is wrong, but there are many more subtle ways one might struggle with being truthful and authentic, especially in some of the professional, information-based work cultures of today. We spend a lot of time at work and with our colleagues, and unfortunately it is all too common to find heaps of stress, overwork, and lightning fast change, all happening within highly-collaborative yet competitive and/or reward-based  performance systems. 

When to Speak Up

In Part 2 I talked a bit about finding your passion and discovering your personal values. Being true to your personal values while working within the context of your company's values is definitely part of being authentic. For example, if your values are in conflict with your company's and you come home from work feeling "icky" every day, can you really say you're living an authentic life? If your company has values that you firmly believe in but see being violated by colleagues on a daily basis, are you being authentic if you don't speak up? Alternatively, if you're currently seeking employment, you need to know your personal values and ask interviewers good questions to assess whether their company's values and culture are in alignment with yours before taking the job.

When to Keep Quiet

Although many of us have the best of intentions, we may have started sharing too much. (Just look at some of the stuff that shows up on Facebook!) We might think we're being helpful in passing timely, relevant information along or by responding to requests quickly, but it's important to be able to distinguish when it might be more beneficial to hold back and assess the situation more deeply before speaking or acting. The 1835 poem by Beth Day is a beautiful reminder of the questions one should ask before deciding whether or not to speak with another person:

If you are tempted to reveal
A tale to you someone has told
About another, make it pass
Before you speak, three gates of gold.
These narrow gates: First, "is it true?"
Then, "is it needful?" In your mind
Give truthful answer.  And the next
Is last and narrowest, "Is it kind?"
And if to reach your lips at last
It passes through these gateways three,
Then you may tell the tale, nor fear,
What result of speech may be.

I've often seen this written in the following summarized form (likely for easier remembering):

1. Is it true?
2. Is it necessary?
3. Is it kind?

If one answers "no" to any of these questions, the words should not be said. I especially like the idea of the third question or gate, because it ties nicely back to ahimsa, the first yama I discussed. And while it may be a somewhat arbitrary decision, determining whether certain words are "necessary" makes one pause and consider whether they are superfluous. Given how much information we (especially those of us working in high-tech industries) are bombarded with on a daily basis, this question is particularly interesting and may help to reduce the information overload many of us currently suffer from!  

How to Speak When You Do

When we do speak, communicating consciously and with compassion is critical to maintaining good working relationships. Having a positive intent is a start, but it's not always enough. We may have a difficult message to deliver (such as in a performance review), or a challenging question to pose to someone who's worked hard on a project, but how we say the words always has an effect on the listener. Even when we are frustrated with a colleague, we need to remember that it's very likely they're doing the best they can, and keep in mind they may be working within certain constraints or dealing with specific issues we may not be not privy to. "Tone" in media like e-mails, IMs, and other virtual forums can be especially challenging, so it's a good practice to take a moment to read our written words (perhaps aloud) as if we were the recipient, to see if any of our own triggers or background feelings are coming through in a way we don't really want.

I also see authenticity as a quality that's related to brahmacharya (energy management), which I discussed a few weeks ago. To be authentic, for example, I feel as though we have to take on only the commitments we truly have the energy to follow through on. We need to do what we say we will by the time we agreed to, or be honest and let our colleagues know as soon as we realize we won't make it. To me, no response to a request doesn't feel good, and so I like to be sure to get back to folks in a timely fashion, even if it's just to communicate, "I'm sorry, I'm swamped right now but I hear you and I promise to get back to you when I can."

Taking Responsibility for What's In the Background

The most challenging concept of satya (for me personally) might be the concept of owning feelings. I think times have changed, and many now acknowledge that feelings do show up in the workplace. Following the guidelines I offered above can help in developing sensitivity to co-workers' feelings and make them feel safe, but what about our own feelings and how they impact how we respond to our work environments? If we have triggers based on past work or personal experiences, they can and do show up in the office. I don't believe there's any way to compartmentalize people. We are whole, and have to manage our various parts (perhaps differently) in each of our environments. Identifying what our triggers are ahead of time, cultivating self-awareness so we can detect when they are having an impact on our integrity or authenticity, and taking steps to manage our feelings and responses to colleagues when they trigger us can go a long way in keeping our work relationships rewarding and productive.  

Daily Practice

For me, the easiest technique for practicing satya has been to think about the three questions. Try it next time you're in the office, and let me know how you make out!

How Yoga Improved My Running

At the second half of my yoga teacher training, I decided to continue running at the fitness center's treadmill in preparation for the 10K I am doing in September. I didn't have a lot of time in between classes, but I managed to squeeze in 30-45 minutes every other day (as I do when I'm home).

I didn't expect all the yoga teachings to translate so profoundly into my running, improving it tremendously. The dramatic effects have continued now that I'm home, so I thought I would share them with you. I hope this post ties together yoga and running for my fellow yogis in interesting new ways, and encourages some of my non-yogi readers to learn more about how yoga can help improve your runs!

Before the Run
Here's what I recommend one do before a morning run, based on how I start each morning.

• Neti pot--clears the nasal passages, enabling easier breathing. As an aside, I believe netti is responsible for me being allergy free for over a year now, and no, I don't heed any advice about the brain eating amoebas.
• Warm or lukewarm water with lemon--hydrates the body on waking, and add all the health benefits of lemons.
• Yoga (asana) practice--15-30 minutes lubricates all the major joints, works out any stiffness from sleeping, elongates the spine and stretches the muscles. It also encourages deep breathing. If instead of following a DVD I do my own flow, I get more in tune with my body's wisdom, which is helpful during the run (see below).
• Meditation--just 10-15 minutes fills the body with fresh oxygen as it clears away built up carbon dioxide, strengthens the lungs and diaphragm, and focuses the mind. For meditation, I mostly focus on the three-part yogic (dirgha) breath--belly, rib cage, and chest. 
• Small snack (if needed)--prevents the body and mind from being distracted by hunger. I'll sometimes eat a handful of mixed nuts or 1/2 a BudiBar to tide me over until breakfast, especially if I went to bed feeling hungry the night before.
• Elimination--emptying the system (both ways) prevents the body and mind from being distracted while running by a need for relief!

During the Run 
OK, so here's where it gets more interesting. First, several koshas, or levels of being, are recognizable when one is running:

• Physical body (annomaya kosha): a focus on good posture / alignment. Some things I think about during my run include: am I rolling through my feet properly? Are my knees locked? Is my tailbone tucked and my belly drawn in to elongate my spine? Are my shoulders relaxed and moving down my back? Is my face and jaw relaxed? Are my arms swinging out to the sides (instead of crossing my chest) to enable deep breathing? I've found that moving from the ground up (as a yoga instructor would do to cue a posture) is helpful in maintaining good running form.
• Breath body (pranamaya kosha): a focus (obviously) on breathing. Back in February I learned the many benefits of comfortably breathing through the nose even during a run. I never thought I could do this, but it's related to "the edge" (see below)--in other words, if I'm gasping for air through the mouth, I know I've probably gone past mine!
• Witness consciousness (vijnanamaya kosha): asking the questions above while running means that part of the Self is aware enough to do this. Noticing when either the body or the breath is lacking "good form" and re-establishing it with compassion and without judgment, is key. In my experience, this protects the body and makes the run steady (stira) and sweet / easy (sukha).

So what about that pesky mind and all its thoughts and feelings (manomaya kosha)!? Many people, including myself, have probably spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to distract the mind during a run. Or, maybe that's when some feel they do their best thinking. Either way, I've come to the conclusion that taking the mind away from the run is not a good thing, because I'm not paying attention to my body or my breath--and these can tell me a lot about whether I'm helping or hurting myself.

Here are some yogic concepts I've found helpful in dealing with the mind during a run:

• Sense withdrawal (pratyahara): quite the opposite of distracting the mind through the sense is the idea of focusing on the body and breath during the run itself. When running at the gym, I used to: watch TV (both the images and reading the closed captions), people watch, listen to music, and sometimes read a magazine. I also used to look down at the display several times, which caused my mind to calculate the minutes left or set goals around the calories I should burn. In retrospect, none of this ever made me feel better, and sometimes it even made me feel worse. These days, I listen to Krisha Das (unlikely running music for sure!), cover the treadmill display with my towel, and gaze straight ahead at a single, non-moving point (drishti). When I run outside, this turns to gazing at the horizon as much as possible.
• Micro-movements: if one is completely focused on the body and breath while running and there are no distractions, then what is one to do when discomfort arises? Well, here's an example: the other day I noticed my left knee started to hurt, so I asked myself: "what small adjustment (micro-movement) could I make to relieve this pain?" Then I listened to my body for its wisdom and trusted it would know what to do. Within a minute, I internally rotated my thighs, and the pain stopped. Interesting, no?
• BRFWA: Breathe, Relax, Feel, Watch, & Allow is another technique for dealing with discomfort. Here's an example from my experience: it never fails that in minutes 3-5 of any run, I get really hot, and start sweating, and it's really uncomfortable. It used to make my mind think: "I can't really run, who am I kidding?" and "Maybe I should stop and walk." Now, I just notice it. I view it as an expression of my life force (prana) building with the movement of my body and with my breathing. I relax into it and it quickly melts away.
• The edge: compassionate self-awareness compels one to generate sensation, yet understand and respect one's limits. For me, this involved learning to breathe through my nose--I initially had to take my run way down, back to a walk (and be OK with that!) before building back up to a jog. Noow I do about 5.5-5.7 on a treadmill comfortably. It took a lot for me to accept that as my speed, but I'm consistently running 4-5 miles at a time, and finishing my runs feeling eerily calm and content
• Loving-kindless (metta): when running with other people on treadmills at the gym or during a race, I've found that the pace of others can be helpful or hurtful. I've started thinking of others as my running community (sangha), which consists of people who want happiness just like me. So, when I lose my drishti and notice someone running faster, or if someone passes me, I send them loving and kind thoughts. The same goes for someone ahead of me whose clearly struggling and slows down. And I send it to myself as well, any time I feel like a kosha other than witness consciousness has taken me over!

Please consider choosing one of these techniques and trying it out. It's done wonders for my running, and I'd love to know how it affects you!

Yoga's Place in the Workplace: Part 2

In last week's blog post, I talked about the different ways one could practice the first yama, ahimsa (non-violence / non-harming) while at work. This week, I'll focus on brahmacharya, or energy management.

(And I should have said this last week, but a special thanks goes out to the instructors of the Kripalu Yoga teacher training program, especially our guest speaker David, who taught us more about how to live the yamas and niyamas than any book ever could!)

The Basics of the Fifth Yama: Energy Management

Yes, I'm skipping to the fifth one because I believe it's so important. This yama is historically associated with chastity, but it applies to so much more than sexual energy. It's really about passion. "Bhrama" means "the biggest idea", and "charya" means "to follow". So essentially brahmacharya is about using one's passions wisely, and in a way that leads to personal transformation. What does personal transformation have to do with work? A lot! Read on....

Living to Work

First, the big picture question: do you know what you're truly passionate about? Second, does your work environment align with and support those passions, or are you expending unnecessary energy every hour you're in the office because it doesn't? Ask yourself the following questions to think this through further:

• Is what you do for a living something you chose to do, or is it the result of others' expectations about what you should have done? If it's the latter, what is it you really enjoy doing outside of work that you keep returning to over and over again? Are there any possibilities of making a living out of this that you could explore?
• What aspects of your past and present jobs really resonate(d) with you? Which responsibilities or tasks would you rather not have had to do? What about your hobbies and extracurricular interests? Do you see any themes?
• Do you have a good sense of your personal values, not just at work, but in life? How well do the core values of your company align with your personal goals?

Expending and Directing Right Effort

If you know what you're passionate about and what you truly value--and are confident that your passions and the organizational goals of your workplace align--you can look more closely at where and how you're directing your energy on a daily basis:

• Do you plan your daily or weekly schedule to allocate appropriate time and space to what really matters to you, or do you find yourself unable to stop putting energy toward activities that don't directly support your passions?
• Have you been passionate about the same things for a long period of time, or do you go through phases where you're excited about something and then it falls flat? Or, do you get so wrapped up in your latest passion that it borders on addictive behavior? How can you hone your passions to be more evenly sustainable over time?  
• Is most of your time and energy spent focusing on goals, tasks and projects that support you and your company's mutually agreeable passions? If not, how can you better prioritize and focus your time?
• Do you continuously question the value of what you're doing, to make sure you're adding value and moving in the right direction? Do you escalate any discrepancies to your manager, or do you plug along and expend effort without verifying that it's really warranted?
• Have you developed an understanding of when it may be more important to remain at the strategic, big picture level, and when it might be best to dive into the more tactical details?
• Are you selective about the work activities you personally agree to take on, and do you delegate some to those who may have stronger skills than you?

Engaging in True Presence

Now let's get more into the people part of energy management, because after all, the successes (or failures) of an organization always come down to professional relationships, and how well people work together.

• When you're having a conversation with someone--either one-on-one or in a meeting, where is the energy of your attention? Are you actively listening and fully with the person with whom you are interacting?
• Are you aware of what kind of energy you're sending out when interacting with your colleagues? Do you set an intention before you communicate with someone?
• Regardless of whether you're talking with others face-to-face or via some online medium like email, are you present enough to put aside other tasks, worries, and concerns as you communicate? Do you consider the tone of each virtual message you send, and how it might be received?
• Do you focus all five senses on what you're doing NOW, gently noticing yet letting go of any other energies or urges that may flit about in an attempt to distract you from your current goal? 
• Do you give 150% of yourself to everyone all the time until you hit a wall--feeling tired, run down, or even sick a good portion of the time? Or do you give just enough energy to help a colleague and still have some left for others?

Leveraging Witness Consciousness

So we've talked about the company, and other people. What about you? Witness consciousness is bringing the energy of awareness to what you are doing in each moment. It's your internal "watcher," who you can leverage to help you be more mindful of where you're directing your energy. That is, if you remember to ask!

• Do you often stop and recognize that no unpleasant interaction or situation can really "make you" feel upset, overwhelmed, frustrated, stressed, drained, etc.?
• Are you able to tell colleagues "no" when you feel you can't take on what they're asking, or help them find another way to get the job done because you're mindful of reaching your limit?
• Can you identify when events or people are poking on your particular triggers, and direct your energy into deep breathing techniques before taking appropriate actions?
• Are you familiar with any ingrained habits you have that might cause you to unnecessarily drain your energy, such as perfectionism, a strong need to people please, or self-criticize, and keep those habits at bay by recognizing that your energy is better directed elsewhere?

Daily Practice

As you start the new week, take a look at your work calendar with a closer eye, and see if where you're spending time is appropriately aligned with what you're passionate about doing. When you have interactions with colleagues, be mindful of where you are directing your energy. Sigh out a long, deep breath anytime you feel that someone (including you) is sending out negative energy, or expending more energy than is needed for a particular task or situation. Also, consider reserving some time over the next (long) weekend to get clear about your personal values and your true passions!

Yoga's Place in the Workplace: Part 1

Upholding the philosophical yogic principles that Patanjali codified in the yamas and niyamas, particularly in the workplace, is of great interest to me. The yamas are the character-building restraints, the niyamas the character-building observances--the first and second "limbs" of yoga often overlooked as aspiring yogis focus primarily on postures. Given how much time we spend there, people in the workplace can be like a second family, presenting special challenges when we are trying to live according to these yogic principles. Even those who practice may not be aware of all the ways the yamas and niyamas make themselves evident in this context.

In a series of blog posts over the next few weeks, I hope to illustrate some ways for yogis to practice each yama and niyama while at work. I hope to hear about your own challenges and to be able to encourage each and every one of you on your journey. After all, it is a practice, so it's important for us to be compassionate toward ourselves, even when we have days (or moments) where we wished we'd behaved differently.

The Basics of the First Yama: Non-Violence

This week I'll talk about the first yama, known in Sanskrit as ahimsa. Ahimsa is generally translated as "non-violence" or "non-harming". There are some obvious implications of this yama, just by it's name.

Growing up in the Roman Catholic school system, for example, my first instinct was to relate this to the commandment: "Thou shall not kill." And yes, that's true. Don't kill anyone while at work. Check. (Sadly, in this day and age, killing at work sometimes does happen.)

But there are many, much more subtle ways this yama can impact our lives, and help us become people of real integrity, starting with the morning commute.

Getting to and from The Office

Even with a relatively easy commute, practicing ahimsa some days is challenging. Those who have longer distances to ride, more traffic to deal with, morning obligations prior to work, and/or apprehension about what's in store for them when they arrive will find the practice of non-harming even harder. Here are some examples:

• Do you say (to yourself or aloud to others) hurtful things to other drivers when they don't behave as you would like?
• Do you think judgmental thoughts about those you see on the bus or train, or while walking?
• Do you chastise yourself for being late or not leaving enough time in the morning?
• Do you replay an argument that happened before you left the house over and over in your mind, justifying why you are right and the other person is wrong?
• Do you anticipate having a negative interaction with someone when you arrive at the office, before you even get there?

Interacting with Others

Many offices these days encourage collaboration, and that's great. And, it means you may be getting more "face-time" with your colleagues. Just as one spends a lot of time with family--and therefore often behaves in less-than-stellar ways toward them--it's important to be mindful of and intentional in your interactions. Adhering to ahimsa with office mates is not only advantageous for your career, but it is also important for maintaining your personal integrity with those who may frequently test your patience. Here are some ideas:

• Do you give your colleagues your full attention when they're talking to you, and practice active listening skills? Do you wait for your turn to speak, or do you interrupt and speak over others?
• Do you gossip or converse negatively about people at work to "friendly" colleagues, or do you engage in compassionate conversations directly with a person when an issue arises?
• Do you respect your colleagues by not scheduling meetings during their lunch hour, starting / ending meetings on time (or ending early if there is nothing additional to cover), giving them breaks during longer meetings, not unnecessarily keeping them at the office late, etc.?
• Do you exercise compassion toward others, anticipating that they may be overly busy, stressed, or distracted by personal situations, before harshly judging their work? Do you first give them the benefit of the doubt when your expectations or standards aren't met?
• Do you make it a point to tell people positive, affirming things, or are you always focused on the ways they might improve? Do you smile and say "hi" to colleagues you see in passing?

Eating

It's easy to see how the principle of non-violence can relate to food--many yogis are vegetarians for this reason. (Watching some documentaries, such as Food, Inc., may help even the non-yogi move in this direction!) But vegetarianism aside, there are many other ways in which ahimsa applies to eating, specifically within the office environment. Ask yourself:

• Do you listen to and honor your body's hunger and thirst cues when they occur, or do you ignore them and continue working, until you find yourself really starving or dehydrated?
• Do you eat hastily during meetings or while working at your computer, or do you make time and space to allow yourself to mindfully eat and digest your food?
• Do you make healthy choices in the cafeteria, or bring your own freshly prepared food?
• Do you eat more than you should, particularly when you're stressed, tired, bored, or anxious?
• Do you always partake in goodies when they're available, even when you know you're not hungry or they're not good for the health of your body? (Sugar can be challenging at the office, especially during celebrations like baby showers.)

Relating to Yourself

Lastly, it's critical to recognize that ahimsa isn't just about how you do violence or harm to other people: it's also about how you treat yourself. Do you:

• Beat yourself up for saying something "stupid", or making a mistake? Or are you compassionate with yourself when you didn't act as you wanted to?
• Refuse to step out of your comfort zone and take on a new project or task because you're afraid of failing?
• Often tell yourself you're a fraud that your boss will eventually discover and fire? Or do you believe in yourself and your abilities, even when you're challenged?
• Over commit your energy or time by saying yes to too many requests, sacrificing your physical and mental health as a result? (More on this when I write about the yama that deals with energy management!)
• Know and practice techniques for keeping stress and fear at bay, such as deep breathing, going for a walk, or taking a brief Yoga Break?

Daily Practice

I hope this post has you thinking about new ways to practice ahimsa, or non-violence / non-harming, toward others and yourself in the context of work. Leave a comment or send me an e-mail to let me know how it's going for you, and stay tuned for next week's yama / niyama--I might even take requests!

Life can be easier...

...unfortunately, we often choose to make it more difficult.

Take for example, a few things I thought (or found myself saying out loud) this past week:

• I wish I had a long and lean body
• I don't want to be sick with this cold/flu anymore
• I need to have new sweaters for next winter
• I don't want my cat to die

Now, I am short and curvy no matter what exercise or nutrition program I follow. I finally did catch the cold/flu everyone at work had, and still feel a bit under the weather. I don't really need sweaters to replace the perfectly good ones I already own. My cat is likely on the last of his nine lives and like all creatures, will inevitably die. These are the REALITIES of life, and they actually have little to do with what I want or don't want. In yogic philosophy, such ways of thinking are referred to as attachments (raga) and aversions (dvesha).

Yoga also teaches us the truth of life, which is that it just happens: around us, within us, and in spite of us. Being attached or averse to something means we're working against life's natural current. If an event is truly unpleasant and we try to push it away--or conversely, try to hold onto the way things used to be--we're likely causing ourselves more suffering than if we just allowed ourselves to feel and deal with the actual situation fully. When we desire something, getting what we want doesn't usually make us happy for very long. True happiness and freedom lies in the acceptance of life AS IT ACTUALLY IS.

That's tough! It's easy to say that you should or can just deal with whatever life throws at you, but acceptance is a lot easier said than done. To me, the answer doesn't lie in being indifferent or in any quick fix, but rather in continuous and self-compassionate practice. Just as we exercise and train our bodies to maintain our physical health, we need our minds and hearts to learn how to be more accepting so that we can maintain an optimal level of mental, emotional, and spiritual health. Techniques like breathing meditation and mindfulness (i.e. conscious self-awareness), are useful for everyone--regardless of whether you can twist yourself into some wacky yoga pretzel. And like nutrition and exercise, techniques for developing acceptance require us to prioritize and make time for them on a regular basis.

We could all benefit from exploring techniques to help us learn how to be more accepting, and now is the perfect time to start. As a quick look through Facebook's news feed or my examples above show, every single day provides us with new opportunities to practice letting go of our tendencies toward attachment and aversion. The more we practice surrendering to life's inevitable ups and downs, the less we will label situations in our lives as "good" or "bad"--they will just be. Sure we'll still feel our experiences (and of course we want to), but we'll not be adding our own layers of angst on top, making things seem better or worse than they really are. And when the really painful or bad situations do hit us, we'll be much more prepared to handle them with grace and equanimity.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. In it, Del (played by the late John Candy) describes how he goes with the flow "like a twig on the shoulders of a mighty stream". Would you like to be more like Del, and surrender to life more completely? Do you think it would make life easier if you were able to? What do you find yourself being attached or averse to? What have you tried to dispel this way of thinking?

I'd love to know what you think....