our-yoga

I just came across the following video on a couple of different places in the blogosphere. Very inspiring video montage of Guruji in the thick of teaching. Many of his famous aphorisms are in the video (including the signature "99 percent practice, 1 percent theory"). Very inspiring, especially for those of us (including yours truly) who never got to meet Guruji. Enjoy!

It seems that Guruji was definitely a proponent of "less is more" when it comes to verbal instruction :-) 

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This morning was one of those mornings when my body simply did not want to get on the mat. My mind was all set to practice, but my body felt so sluggish and sleepy. I'm not sure if it was my weekend in Memphis. It probably was; over the weekend, I had succumbed to the temptation of burning the candle at both ends (sleeping later than usual and sleeping less, eating a bit more than usual, etc.), and it looks like my body was paying for it this morning. Eventually, I had to cut a deal with my body: I went back to bed and napped for about half an hour or so. Then I got back up and practiced. And I'm glad I did. Even though the Suryas felt a bit sluggish, by the time I got into standing, everything was just chugging along. And when I finished practice, I was my usual post-practice great self.

Maybe this is a good time to do something I haven't done in a while: Conduct a poll. You will find it in the top right-hand corner of this blog. The question is: What do you do on days when your body just doesn't feel like practicing? Please vote!

If your answer happens to be "drink some coffee"--actually, even if it isn't--you should also check out the following recent video by Kiki warning about the consequences of excessive coffee consumption on the adrenal glands. I think Matthew Sweeney said what amounted to pretty much the same thing in his book Astanga Yoga As It Is, when he warned that using coffee to wake up to practice is only a stop-gap measure, and ultimately doesn't address the root cause: Whatever it is that is making you tired.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not telling anybody to give up coffee (I love espresso too). But all this is definitely something to be mindful of.

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I'm still reading Haruki Murakami's 1Q84. One of the main characters in the novel is Tengo, a talented math teacher who is also an aspiring novelist on the side. As a teacher, he has an uncanny ability to engage his students and get them to feel passionate about something that is usually seen as a dry and boring subject (mathematics). Here's an excerpt from the novel that describes his teaching prowess:

"As a teacher, Tengo pounded into his students' heads how voraciously mathematics demanded logic. Here things that could not be proven had no meaning, but once you had succeeded in proving something, the world's riddles settled into the palm of your hand like a tender oyster. Tengo's lectures took on uncommon warmth, and the students found themselves swept up in his eloquence. He taught them how to practically and effectively solve mathematical problems while simultaneously presenting a spectacular display of the romance concealed in the questions it posed. Tengo saw admiration in the eyes of several of his female students, and he realized that he was seducing these seventeen- or eighteen-year-olds through mathematics. His eloquence was a kind of intellectual foreplay. Mathematical functions stroked their backs; theorems sent warm breath into their ears."   

My own lectures as a teacher certainly do not have this kind of seductive eloquence (at least not that I am aware of :-)), but I think I may have gone through a similar sort of experience this past weekend at the philosophy conference I attended in Memphis. I originally wasn't very interested in attending this conference; this being almost mid-term, there is a ton of papers to be graded and a whole bunch of other tasks to see to at work, and the thought of flying out of town for an entire weekend--even if for supposedly professional purposes--seems an unnecessary distraction from these pressing tasks.

But I somehow decided to go anyway, and I'm glad I did. The conference was a lively event, with scholars from universities and colleges all over the country (including, very humbly, yours truly) presenting their works in progress, and getting very constructive feedback and criticism from their peers in the profession; at any rate, I did not see any of the petty and catty attacks that academics are unfortunately famous for; if this is any indication of how philosophy conferences are increasingly being conducted in this country, this can only bode well for the profession.

Being a participant in this event, I personally feel very reinvigorated. I got some interesting feedback and useful suggestions on how to further develop my paper. In addition, I also attended a few other presentations. One presentation on comparative philosophy particularly stood out to me: It was a comparison between Hegel and Advaita Vedanta. The presenter compared and contrasted the views of Hegel, Shankara and Ramanuja on reality and non-reality. Since I know very little Vedanta, and practically no Hegel, most of the presentation simply went over my head. But I am really inspired by the presentation to go read more Vedanta, and maybe do my own exegesis and philosophical analysis sometime in the future.

Perhaps my experience at this conference is similar to that of the female students in Tengo's classes in one way: Like these students, I feel once again the seductive eloquence of philosophy as an intellectual and existential practice. In any case, I have always believed that on a most fundamental level, intellectual concerns cannot be separated from existential concerns. Aristotle said that, "All men by nature desire to know." Since it is in our nature to want to know things--both things about our environment, and things about our inner lives--human existence cannot be truly fulfilling if we do not try at least some of the time to give expression to this desire. And philosophy at its best is an expression of this most natural of desires. Indeed, how can one be human and not be seduced at least some of the time by this desire?

I did manage to squeeze in a brief trip to Graceland yesterday afternoon, after all. Went on a tour of the Graceland Mansion. I don't know that much about the life and times of the King; even so, while walking through the various rooms in the mansion, I really sensed that this is a man who lived life very, very fully. So much so, that virtually everything in his life is larger than life. And his presence definitely still fills every room in the house, after all these years.


Elvis's fans, of course, can readily attest to his seductive power as an entertainer. But I also wonder if he might not be a teacher too, in his own unique way: Perhaps he is demonstrating to us through his life and actions how one can live and love in a larger-than-life manner?          

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I am now sitting in a coffee shop in Memphis, Tennessee. It's called Republic Coffee. I just had a double espresso and a mushroom and spinach omelette with hash browns. The espresso's quite good, and so is the omelette, but the hash browns... hmm, all the hash browns I've ever had have always been light and fluffy, but the ones here are kind of... soggy. Do they make hash browns differently here in the South?

What brings me to Memphis? Well, I came here to present my paper on procrastination at a philosophy conference at Rhodes College. I arrived here yesterday afternoon, and so far, I've just been doing what I would have done if I were anywhere else. Had some dinner at an Indian restaurant yesterday, then went to Whole Foods to stock up on provisions.

This morning, I did my practice in my hotel room. This morning's backbends were especially delicious. Especially the dropbacks. I have been gaining more control in dropping back over the past few weeks. I almost never just flop and crash to the ground these days (I don't want to say "never", because I might jinx myself). This morning, during my first two dropbacks, I actually succeeded in lowering myself slowly to the ground, touching my fingertips to the mat, and then coming back up. For the third dropback, I walked my hands to my heels, touched them, but did not succeed in getting into Chakrabandhasana by myself. I have yet to succeed in getting into Chakrabandhasana by myself thus far; a little assist by a capable teacher in this area (say, by someone like Kino) would have been very nice :-)

Speaking of assists... you know, maybe someday we will develop the technology to make instructional yoga dolls that do assists. Basically, you will have a life-size statue of your favorite yoga teacher, and then program the statue to give you assists when you get to postures that you find challenging. Can you imagine what it would be like to have, like, a life-sized Tim Miller Assist-Doll or Kino Assist-Doll standing around and assisting you at the appropriate moments? From an economic point of view, these Assist-Dolls will sell like the way yoga DVDs are sold today. So Kino, for instance, will sell her own line of Assist-Dolls just like she sells her DVDs now.

Wouldn't that be so kick-ass? And while we're at it, maybe somebody should also make a life-sized Sharath Assist-Doll as well? I'm sure they will sell like hot cakes--or like hot dosas! And then who would need to go to Mysore? Gee, I may be getting a little sacrilegious here. Well, if you're offended, try to pretend you never read these last two paragraphs.

Before I arrived here in Memphis, I was thinking of possibly doing some touristy things; things like going to Graceland to see The King, for instance. But then I got here, and just felt like doing what I would normally do if I were at home. Maybe this is what Ashtanga does to you: It turns you into a boring person.

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When I end my yoga classes, I like to bring students out of savasana, and back into a sitting posture.  Ending the class in the same pose as they began their practice, I ask my students to take stock of their body, thoughts, and emotions, just as they did before the practice began.

An asana practice is like a journey, in so many respects. And perhaps the sweetest moment of the journey is that time, or place, when you come full circle, when you come home. When it dawns on you how much, or how little, has changed, when you can finally sit back and take stock of the roads you have travelled.  Sitting with friends and loved ones, you can laugh or cry about the times you lost your way, the mishaps you encountered, the new things you discovered that enriched your life.

So, friends, I am home.  My yoga practice has been constant, but my blogging over the past year has been patchy at best, as I have been focusing my energies on my other passion - that tricky, sticky world of development and humanitarian aid.  But I am bringing some balance back into my world and hope to be posting here more often again!

Namaste~

Bree

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During this morning's practice, somewhere during the first few postures of primary series, I had a little epiphany: There is only this moment. All else is Maya.

I guess something more needs to be said to place this epiphany in a certain context. Strictly speaking, of course, epiphanies are not the sort of thing that needs to be placed in context. They are, after all, epiphanies. But I think many of us find epiphanies to be so wonderful and cool because they strike us so suddenly, so out of the blue in the midst of our everyday grind. Okay, so maybe you are some yogic being who is totally beyond the reach of the grindiness of the everyday grind (where are you at, Mysore? :-)). In which case, you can stop reading right now. The rest of the post is probably going to be too grinding (pun totally intended) and profane for your yogically-realized ears.

But really, if there were no everyday grind, and all of our lives were simply one long sustained yoga-orgasmic-epiphaneous ecstasy, would we even be able to recognize epiphanies when we experience them? If epiphanies were as everyday as the air we breathe or the coffee/chai we drink, would we even need to employ the concept of an epiphany to describe that ineffable epiphaneous feeling?

Okay, so I'm already, like, three paragraphs into the post, and I still haven't said much about what this morning's epiphany was about. Talk about digressing... Actually, there really isn't that much to say; what really happened was that I simply had this very deep feeling--the kind that you feel in your bones and muscles, not just in your mind--that "There is only this moment. All else is Maya." This little epiphany was all the more sweeter, given that I had a really anxiety-filled day yesterday. I won't bore you with the details of what I was anxious about; suffice to say that they are the garden-variety sort of anxieties; fearing and worrying about things that may or may not happen in the future which one may or may not be able to do anything about.

Which, as I said, made this morning's little practice epiphany sweeter. Somewhere in the first few postures of primary, I suddenly thought about a conversation I had a few days ago with one of my students, a physics major. This student told me that according to string theory, it is theoretically possible to understand all of space-time as one compressed mass; on this level, there is then really no such thing as past, present or future, since all time is contained within this mass. We also speculated that it may perhaps be possible for one to enter certain meditative states where one can actually perceive this space-time mass, and be outside of time and space, so to speak: In other words, it may be possible to achieve a God's-eye-view of space-time.

All of this is really over my head and out of my depth, so I'll stop here. But I'll leave you with one thought: If all of space-time is really one compressed mass (maybe like a tennis-ball; yeah, the space-time tennis ball...), then it would be kind of ridiculous to be worrying and angsting about the future, wouldn't it? After all, if this were true, the future wouldn't really ultimately exist, would it?

Anyway, epiphanies are cool. More power to them!         

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"Robbing people of their actual history is the same as robbing them of part of themselves. It's a crime... Our memory is made up of our individual memories and our collective memories. The two are intimately linked. And history is our collective memory. If our collective memory is taken from us--is rewritten--we lose the ability to sustain our true selves."

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

I started reading 1Q84 a couple of weeks ago. I'm about a quarter of the way through. Reviews of the book so far have been very mixed; some think it is possibly Murakami's best work; others think it is an all-over-the-place piece of work that only Murakami can get away with pulling off (in a not-so-good kind of way).

I happen to fall in the former camp. I really think the story so far is mind-blowing. As is often the case with many of my favorite works, I feel that the experience of reading 1Q84 so far is kind of like peeling an onion: What the story is about isn't revealed to you right away; rather, the reader has to kind of go along with the flow, and "peel off" the unraveling layers of the story progressively. Along the way, one's sense of reality gets upended almost without one's being aware of it: As I've mentioned in a previous post somewhere, Murakami's writing can be characterized as being yogic without the woo. Oh, and speaking of yogic: Not to give away the story or anything, but one of the major antagonists in the novel seems to be this quasi-religious cult leader who does some really unsavory things to people, and who somehow has the absolute unquestioning trust of his followers... does this mirror something that is happening in the real-life yoga world right now, or is it just me? :-)

I guess this post isn't so much a review of the book as it is an unabashed recommendation: Go read it! It's very long (almost a thousand pages), but from what I have been reading of it so far, it's totally worth the investment of time and reading effort.

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These past couple of days, I have been reading, thinking and preparing for my philosophy of art class that meets on Wednesday evening. The questions that my class will be discussing this Wednesday are: What is artistic value? Is the artistic value of a work separate (or separable) from other values that it may possess; values such as cognitive value, moral value, social value, educational value, historical value, therapeutic value, or economic value, among others?

To illustrate these questions better, let's use an example. Suppose a person who is having some issues in a romantic relationship feels better after watching Woody Allen's Vicky Cristina Barcelona, not because the movie offers any direct solutions to his relationship troubles (knowing Woody Allen, it probably doesn't :-)), but because the plot of the movie and its characters somehow function to help this person better put his relationship troubles in perspective. So the movie has psycho-therapeutic value for this person. But an art critic may say that the therapeutic value of this movie has nothing to do with its value as a work of art: Just because the movie is effective as a psycho-therapeutic tool says nothing about the production value of the movie, or about the aesthetically relevant aspects of the movie (cinematography, story, character development, etc.).

There is a lively debate in contemporary philosophy of art over whether the artistic value of a work is related to the other values (such as therapeutic value) that the same work may possess. Our art critic above believes that there is no relation between artistic value and other kinds of value the work may possess. But others may disagree.

On a related note, there is also a lively conversation over the question of whether the moral value of a work of art is separable or distinct from its artistic or aesthetic value. Should proper appreciation and understanding of a work of art function to make us better people? If we do not become better people as a result of engaging in artistic endeavors, have we in a sense failed to engage in art properly? Again, different people have different views about this. The American poet and literary critic Yvor Winters argues that poetry is and should be a means of strengthening intellectual and moral character:

"Poetry... should offer a means of enriching one's awareness of human experience and so of rendering greater the possibility of intelligence in the course of future action; and it should offer likewise a means of inducing certain more or less constant habits of feeling, which should render greater the possibility of one's acting, in a future situation, in accordance with the findings of one's improved intelligence. It should, in other words, increase the intelligence and strengthen the moral temper; these effects should naturally be carried over into action, if, through constant discipline, they are made permanent acquisitions."  

But I suspect that many will disagree with Winters here. After all, history seems to provide abundant examples of seemingly highly cultured individuals who nevertheless are highly morally deficient; Joseph Goebbels, Hitler's minister of propaganda, was a published novelist who also had a doctorate in romantic drama. Or maybe these individuals have failed to understand and appreciate the significance of art in some important sense; perhaps, despite their extensive engagement with art, they have failed to bring about the strengthening of the moral temper that proper engagement and involvement with art should bring about.

I don't have an answer to any of these issues. But I think there is much to think about here. But there is definitely a certain parallel set of issues with yoga practice here. One recurring theme in my posts over the last few months has been the relationship between asana practice and moral development or character. Should "correct", "proper" practice of asana result in some kind of strengthening of the moral temper and make us better people? We know that, as with the case of art, real life seems to provide us with abundant examples of advanced asana practitioners who nevertheless do not appear to be very morally evolved: See, for instance, Claudia's recent story about the coconut-men-yellers in this post. Actually, we don't even have to go all the way to Mysore to look for examples: I myself have engaged in some assholic behavior that I am definitely not proud of (which is not to say I am an advanced asana practitioner, of course; hmm... does this get me off the moral hook? :-)).

I guess the question is: What is the diagnosis for these asana-practicing assholes (myself included)? The way I see it, there are at least three possible answers:

(1) One straightforward answer could be that these folks (again, myself included) may be proficient at asana, but have not done enough to incorporate the other limbs (especially yama and niyama) into their yoga, so that they are really not practicing yoga, but only appearing to. 

(2) Another possible answer could be that the yoga is working even on these assholes: If you think I'm an asshole now, wait till you see me when I don't practice...

(3) Yet another possible answer could be that despite everything we've been brainwashed--uh, I mean, taught--to believe, yoga really isn't all it's cracked up to be. You do whatever yoga you can do, but whether or not you become self-realized in the end has nothing to do with the yoga (maybe it's genetically determined?). Which means the system really doesn't work. Quick! Jump ship while you still can! Maybe go do Pilates or Taichi or something...

Again, I don't know what the answer is: I'm hoping it's (2), but what do I know?   

Anyway, time to go eat some dinner. This is what happens when I don't blog for a couple of days: You get subjected to one long-ass post! Well, I hope you find at least some of this useful (or at least entertaining...).

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I have been having a lot of trouble motivating myself to blog the last few days. What could there be to blog about? I can blog about my practice, but really, there are only three things I can possibly talk about when I talk about my physical practice now: (1) My newfound obsession with floating and being a floating clown (see this post); (2) My continuing attempt to make my practice challenging and stimulating despite having to work with my tweaky left knee (as if this in itself is not challenging enough); (3) my continuing adventures in backbending. Backbend Update: Over the last few weeks, I have succeeded in grabbing my lower shins consistently in Kapotasana.

Ho hum. You are probably thinking: Big freaking deal. You are probably an asshole off the mat, trying to make up for your off-the-mat assholism by fixating on your on-the-mat exploits. Which is more or less on target, unfortunately. Maybe that's why so many bloggers have recently mentioned that it is not a good idea to blog too much about the mechanics of asana practice.

But if one doesn't blog about the nuts and bolts of asana practice at least some of the time on an Ashtanga blog, and asana is supposed to be the foundation of Ashtanga yoga practice upon which all the other seven limbs are based, then what is the point of writing an Ashtanga blog? This, then, is the quandary of Ashtanga blogging: To write about asana practice or not?

The blogosphere (or at least certain segments of it) is recently on fire with that case of that so-called guru of that particular yoga style who is facing allegations of sexual and financial misconduct (hmm... who could I be talking about?).

Personally, I could care less about whether Guru X is sleeping with his or her students. Doesn't help me with my Brahmacharya, nor with anybody else's, as far as I can see.

As for the financial misconduct, well... shit happens. Such financial shenanigans happen in every other area of life: Specifically, they tend to happen when a group of people, for better or for worse (usually worse), place too much unquestioning trust in a single individual. So why shouldn't the same thing happen in the yoga world?

But all of this is old news. You can read about all this in much more lurid detail in other corners of the yoga blogosphere that specialize in uncovering yoga scandals and fake-guru-busting. This area is not my cup of tea (or coffee).

But here's something else to think about. According to my very superficial understanding of Advaita Vedanta, all phenomena is ultimately non-dualistic. Which means that somebody else's being an asshole is not separate from who or what I am, or what I am doing right now. So if Fake Guru X is the sexual-and-financial-energy-mismanaging monster that he has turned out to be, his being this way is a reflection in some way or other of who we are and what we have being standing for, tacitly or explicitly. Could it be that Fake Guru X is able to become who he is because we have collectively created the environment that has enabled his behavior over the years? If this is so, then are we really in a position to get all self-righteous and point fingers
 and say, "Be gone, you evil one, scourge of all that is pure and unadulterated in the pristine world of yoga!" Just where is this pristine yoga world to be found?

Something to think about, as always.

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we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

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Before I was pregnant if you asked me what poses I'd be practicing daily at 31 weeks pregnant, I probably would have said "Supta Baddha Konasana" or "Legs-Up-the-Wall Pose"...  I certainly would not have mentioned balancing poses like Ardha Chandrasana (Half Moon Pose), Vrksasana (Tree Pose), or Virabhadrasana III (Warrior 3 Pose). But with 15 extra pounds on my belly, more flexible joints, and a body changing faster than I've ever experienced in my life, I can't get enough of the very poses that I would think should be the most challenging--the poses that most teachers would caution me to practice next to a wall just in case my changing center of gravity causes me to waver. And they feel effortless.

In fact, I couldn't feel better.

It's a beautiful metaphor for life now and what's to come in my life. When I shift from Triangle Pose to Half Moon, it's a reminder that I am strong enough to balance this growing baby, my practice, and whatever craziness life puts in my hands. I can do it!

What poses empower you right now?

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This morning, I finished my practice a little later than usual. Since I had a morning class to teach, this meant that I had to rush out of the house without my usual post-practice espresso. Made it through my class, and then decided to just skip breakfast and go straight to lunch (it was already close to noon). I grabbed a little container of pasta labelled "Vegetarian" in the cafeteria, and ate it with some juice.

I felt really heavy and sluggish and sleepy for about half an hour after that. I honestly can't remember the last time I had a post-lunch slump. I'm still trying to decide if today's slump was caused by (1) whatever it was that called itself "Vegetarian" (Note to self: Not everything labelled "Vegetarian" is good for you), or by (2) the fact that I did not have any espresso earlier in the day.

If (2), then it seems that I am not as coffee non-dependent as I thought I was. Hmm... No Coffee, No Prana?

Well, maybe I'll go get some espresso now. Oh, and I know that this post is very banal and probably has nothing to do with yoga. I guess I'm having one of my blogging dry spells. Don't really have anything wise, profound or interesting to say (which assumes, of course, that what I usually blog about is wise, profound or interesting. Questionable assumption.).

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Happy Valentine's Day! I don't know if you celebrate Valentine's, but since many of you who read this blog practice Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga, let me see if I can give an Ashtangic spin to this arguably most over-hyped and commercialized of holidays: May the flame of your love for the practice grow with each passing practice, and never burn out, whether or not you get to sixth series in this lifetime ;-)

Indeed, it may be that in the bigger scheme of things, it is really love of the practice that will decide whether we will continue our practice in spite of the many obstacles and pains, physical and otherwise, that we often encounter in the course of our practice journey. At a workshop a few years ago, David Williams told us that when he tells people that he has been practicing non-stop for more than 30 years, they usually respond, "Wow! You must have great self-discipline to be able to do this practice non-stop for so long!" But David thinks that the word "discpline" has a rather negative ring to it: To him, it implies that he is being disciplined for having done or not done something. He prefers to think that it is really love of the practice that brings him to the mat every day, rather than self-discipline.

But there are often times when it is difficult to see how love could really be what is motivating us to roll out the mat, especially during those days when we are tired or feeling low on motivation. Or during those times when we have to work with injury or some kind of physical limitation, when doing even the most basic of movements could bring pain. For instance, I once threw out my SI joint so badly that I couldn't move from updog to downdog without lower back pain. I eventually managed to heal myself by working on my uddiyana bandha and on the alignment of the toes, but in the process, it took a lot of trial and error to find a way for my body to move in a pain-free way through this most basic of transitions, and during that process, every error was a painful one.

Hmm... I guess I could have picked a more Yoga-Journal-friendly example to illustrate my point: This seems like the kind of example that some people out there might point to as a reason not to practice Ashtanga ("See, you practice this Ashtanga yoga, you get back pain... for what?! Shouldn't yoga be pain-free?"). Sounds also like good grist for the yoga-can-wreck-your-body mill.

Anyway, the point I am trying to make is: How can we love this Ashtanga practice, if it brings us so much discomfort, and dare I say, pain? Is love enough to see us through this journey of practice, or is something more needed? If something more is needed, what is it? Grit? Courage? Fearlessness? Discipline? All of the above?

Any thoughts?

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Whew! This past weekend was packed so full with activities; from the way things are looking, this coming week will probably be just as busy. Not sure how much blogging I will be able to squeeze in in the midst of all this... life. But I guess blogging is like practice, in this way: You do what you can with what you've got, and more often than not, the results surprise you (or at least, they surprise me)...

Speaking of blogging, an interesting little conversation about blogging happened this past weekend. On Saturday, I went for my twice-a-month acupuncture session. The acupuncturist was the same lady who attended to me two weeks ago (see this post). As she was sticking needles into me, we started chatting about yoga again; somehow, the topic of blogging came up, and I mentioned that I write a blog. When she heard this, her eyes suddenly sparkled, and she asked, "Oh, you write a blog? Do you work for Yoga Journal or something?" I replied, "No, it is just a personal blog about my own observations about my yoga practice, and my place in the world as it relates to the practice." "Oh," she replied, and went back to sticking needles into me.

Perhaps I'm reading too much into this short exchange, but I can't help feeling that there are a whole bunch of people out there who think that you have to be someone special to write a blog. Well, if this is what they think... welcome to my world! I'm nobody special, but I write a blog nonetheless. I can go on and on about how yoga blogging can function to democratize knowledge and information, and makes the aesthetics of the yoga world a little less "Yoga-Journal-esque", and perhaps a little bit more... real, but I have a long day ahead, and this is not a day for a long post. So I'll sign off here.

P.S. I am making a mental note to myself not to reveal the name of this blog to my acupuncturist. I have already generated at least two blog posts from my acupuncture conversations, neither of which paint the acupuncturist in a particularly flattering light.  

P.P.S. I am traveling to Memphis, TN, from Thursday February 23rd to Sunday February 26th. If any of you out there reading this live in Memphis (or will be there during these same days), please feel free to drop me a line. Perhaps we can hang out and/or practice together?

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S is for Superwoman. I am not. 
T is for the Tension I hold in my jaw when I try to do everything all at once.
R is for the sweet Realization that failure is a critical part of growth, not something to fear and obsess over.
E is for Erica...the epitome of stressed out in this moment.
S is for my Shoulders.. and how they creep up toward my ears.
S is for Savasana, Sidebends, Spas, Sipping herbal tea, Sweet friends, Sunny days, Silly pets, and all the other things that help manage the daily stress in my life.

How do you handle the particularly horrible, stressful times?

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1. It's not rocket science, but it's different for everyone. When I first found out I was pregnant I freaked out--and not just because of the whole "there's a person growing in my belly" concept, but also because I didn't know all the "rules" about practicing yoga while I was pregnant. Now that I'm into my third trimester I feel qualified to let you in on a little secret. There are basic guidelines for practicing when pregnant. Yes, there are many poses that are recommended or not recommended during pregnancy--but it's different for everybody and what feels great one day might feel totally horrible and unsafe the next. The same "rule" applies to pregnancy yoga as yoga during any other time of your life: Trust your body and your intuition.

2. Most yoga teachers really don't know that much about yoga during pregnancy, so it's important to do your own homework. Sure, they know the basic modifications for twists and Savasana when you've got a giant belly, but unless a teacher either has extensive training in prenatal yoga (or has actually experience practicing yoga while pregnant) I take what they're saying with a grain a salt. Sorry men.. I don't care how many books you've read--if you haven't felt it, I won't be seeking out your advice. Oh, and even though not everyone knows very much about pregnancy yoga, when you tell a teacher you're expecting they will feel the need to tell you everything they DO know. I found this particularly annoying in my first trimester when I didn't exactly want everyone who walked into the studio to know my business and ask me questions.

3. I hate prenatal yoga. I apologize in advance to all the prenatal teachers and mamas out there who got tons of benefits from their prenatal classes. It's just not for me--at least not yet. I've been to quite a few prenatal yoga classes (to be clear, I consider prenatal yoga a class that's designed for pregnant women as opposed to pregnancy yoga which is the term I'm using for practicing any hatha yoga during pregnancy), and they seem to be geared toward the mama who might go into labor at any given second instead of to someone like me who still wants to move a lot and get in a good sweat. It's possible that I just haven't found the right class for me yet. But for now, I'd rather modify poses in my regular classes. I can still salute the sun, thank you very much.

I want to hear from other yoga mamas out there.. is there anything that really surprised you about practicing yoga during pregnancy?

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