Showing posts with label journey of a resistant yogini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label journey of a resistant yogini. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

journey of a resistant yogini {№1}



my friend and yoga teacher cyndi lee is collaborating with me on a series of posts about the ways we experience resistance to yoga and how to overcome them.  if you are human there is a good chance you know resistance pretty well. the conversations cyndi and i have about yoga and resistance and creativity have turned out to be pretty powerful.  we want to invite you along.  if you've ever felt the struggle to get to yoga class (or go for a walk, take an art workshop, sit down and write, start anything that is good for you, etc.) we hope our journey offers insight and real solutions.

first, introductions:

cyndi:  i am a yoga teacher.  for nearly four decades i have studied with great yoga teachers and buddhist masters but i often learn the most from my students.  you might think that i love to practice yoga all day long but according to my mother, i was born ornery.  this has manifested in resistance to doing pretty much anything other than lying on the couch with a good book, a cappuccino, and my poodle, leroy.  although i am familiar with the struggles of resistance, i am also bored with that old story so i want to thank lisa for inviting me to explore the what, where, when and mostly why of resistance.  resistance is fertile.

lisa:  i am a yoga student.  it's been thirty years since i took my first yoga class and i still consider myself a beginner. i turned fifty last year and spent some months leading up to that day pondering the yoga-related plans i made on my thirtieth and fortieth birthdays that have not manifested in the decades since i first dreamed them out loud.  i became fascinated with the frequency and intensity of my resistance to doing yoga.  like cyndi, i have a wee rebellious spark and find it impishly delightful when we get together and the combined power of our resistance is enough to move mountains.  except the mountains remain firmly in place, because resistance keeps anything from moving.  i am beyond grateful to have cyndi as a teacher.



lisa:  for me resistance feels like emotional interference to living.  more specifically, interference to do-ing. resistance to things like paying bills and housework makes total sense to me, but i am extra curious when i have resistance to things i love, like yoga.  and i'm gobsmacked by the ability of tricky resistance to be cunningly unconscious (resulting in saying to myself thirty years later, "hey, i totally didn't do that...hmmm.")  there is that little moment before class, that brief deflation of enthusiasm and good intention, wherein if i dare inhale, the sweet possibility of escape and postponement washes over me.

recently i started the practice of consciously noticing when i am experiencing resistance.  as an introverted-intuitive-creative human, i tend to start any venture in my head.  often that is where they set up camp and stay.  forever.  it's really really good in there.  while this new practice of noticing increases my self-awareness and understanding, it is a practice that happens in my head, not with my body.  my resistance has not dissolved.  i have not been rocketed to class with a smile on my face.  it's true, i want to be rocketed to class, propelled by the majestic force of centuries of the enlightened, with a blissful smile on my face and a head emptied of resistance.  high expectations anyone?  i know the first leg of my journey is moving out of my head and on to my mat.

cyndi:  everything is better in your head.  oh, my friend, there is so much here to talk about that we might have to sit down at cao, our favorite hang.  perhaps you will get a tiny sipping chocolate and i'll get a steeping leaf revelation green tea and my two favorite truffles, madagascar vanilla and toasted coconut.  sometimes you get tea and truffles too.  sometimes i get a cappucino...  oh, this fantasy is so good, but let's pull our minds back to the present for a moment.

you are such a profoundly creative being.  your mind and mind's eye is alive and rich with color and light and movement.  you see paintings and pretty rooms and inspiring images all the time.

in buddhism, we call this fruition.  it means having a vision of where you are headed.  this is not the same as a fixed goal, such as, "i will lose this much weight in this amount of time.  and then i will be done."

fruition is more like an aspiration or a direction.  such as:

"i will become loving and generous toward myself and others."

"i want to see everyone as a friend, including myself."

this is different from a set goal because implicit in this approach is the understanding that you will be entering an ongoing process; it is more like a sea change in how you live your life.  it is not task-oriented but more about expanding your capacity.  you might not know what that process is yet.  or you might know what it is but you have some resistance to entering that process.  because you know there will be challenges along the way, perhaps some setbacks too.

so the thing to do is rewind back to the beginning.  in buddhism, this is called three fold logic.
  1. start with your fruitional vision.
  2. take honest stock of where you are now in relationship to that fruitional vision.  if this expanded capacity feels a hundred miles away, this is actually no problem.  the only problem is if you are not honest about where you are starting.  whether you are honest or not, this is the still the place where you are starting.  current location, please.
  3. connect these two dots by figuring out the path.
let's go back to the part of you who sees light and color and beauty.  what i have learned about you is that you are almost constantly engaged in a process (a path!) of creating this in your world.

for example, you recently made beautiful easter eggs by dyeing them with natural materials.  you reported in this very blog that you had a lot of trail and error.  supposedly, vinegar holds the dye, but you aren't sure about that since your results were inconsistent.  you discovered that if you don't hold the eggs just right when removing them from the dye bath, the color will rub off.  

as far as having a picture in your head, you might have had a beautiful purple-y egg in mind when you used purple cabbage as a coloring agent, but (surprise!) the cabbage made brown eggs look green and white eggs look blue!

it was clear from your blog post that you went through a period of doubt about the project, but you kept at it and ended up with lots of lovely easter eggs that filled you and your friends with delight.  and along the way you stretched yourself by expanding your capacity for creativity and commitment.

practicing yoga is really just like this.  you might have an idea of how it should feel and what the whole experience will be like.  but you really can't know.  it might be more useful for you to relax your hold on that picture.  and think about the fruitional aspect.

fruition of practicing yoga:
  • you will feel good about yourself for doing something that you know you really do want to do.
  • your parasympathetic nervous system gets stimulated, this is good for creativity and health.
  • you get better at yoga - and that is fun and feels good in a way that continues off the mat.
  • you get physically stronger and your mental strength increases as well because you are practicing discipline (you might not resonate positively with the word "discipline", but i think that is what you did by sticking with your egg dyeing project for hours).
  • you get healthier (related to strength, but also about breathing and internal organs).
  • you _____________ (your assignment is to fill in the blank, i recommend something that itself is moving, active, alive; not a fixed thing like growing compassion or curiosity).
how do you want to grow?
where are you starting?
can you find a path that can have faith in?

we can talk more about this in our next conversation.

in the meantime, i'll see you at yoga goodness studio.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

it is so good in there


"yoga is ninety-nine percent practice and one percent theory."  
k. pattabhi jois

yesterday i enjoyed enlightening and inspiring conversation with cyndi lee.  our discussions often take place over cappuccinos and chocolates and integrate our experiences of yoga, spirituality, art and our west coast upbringings with our individual journeys through this lovely life.  cyndi's unique alchemy of intelligence, humor, support and tell-it-like-it-is wisdom is such a gift as i explore my weird reluctance to get my ass on my yoga mat.

i confessed that i prefer to be inside my head most of the time.  i love taking in information through observations and learning from many sources and tucking each bit away in the jewel box of my mind (which in my world is synonymous with my soul).  i spend hours in there tending to each precious piece, admiring the unique qualities of each and experimenting with them in pairs and groups.  how do they metamorphose as the light travels through the day and illuminates a different facet of each? how does each new addition change the color or value of the previous inhabitants?  as an introverted intuitive, i love it in there.  the (endless) process of contemplation and understanding is my comfort zone.  real world experiences, including yoga class, often fall short of how rich and glorious they were in my head.

driving home, i had this sudden realization that i prefer theory (the stuff that takes place in my head) over practice (the stuff that takes place on the mat).  and when i write "sudden", i mean that i intuitively knew this already and i have said the words a million times, but it finally made perfect and simple sense.  you know those experiences where you can intellectually know something for years and then one day, usually following the warm reflection and attention of another, you just get it?  yes, that.

is there a way i can make the physical practice of yoga as beautiful as the mental contemplation of yoga?

practice.  attention.  practice.  attention:  the navigation of the crowd as we organize our shoes and stuffs.  the hard give of the wood floor under my bare feet.  the snap of the mat as it unrolls. the light warm pressure of palms coming together.  the voice of my teacher.  the structure of bone. the soft pull and resistance of muscle and tendon.  that shaft of sunlight tempting my gaze from the line of my warrior's arrow.  the fear of falling.  the accomplishment of not.  these are the real experiences of my yoga. they deserve my focus and i need to honor them.  what are the unique qualities of each moment?  how does each moment work with the previous moment to become a practice? how does each new moment of courage, each tiny increment of skill, each failure alter the entirety of the experience? how does my practice metamorphose as the light of each new posture, each new class illuminates it?

i'm on my way down the hall to explore.

Monday, December 29, 2014

the art of attention


i experience a lot of resistance.  it's that complex but often oversimplified phenomena that looks something like this: i want/need to ______; but i'm going to do everything else that is possible to do on this good green earth of ours and in this good green head of mine to avoid ______.  resistance pops up for me on a pretty regular basis.  i have resistance to doing my work.  i have resistance to exercising and eating nourishing food.  i have resistance to personal accounting and records-keeping. i have resistance to housekeeping.  sometimes i have resistance to taking a shower.

i even experience resistance with activities i love:  yoga, creating, writing, walking with my dogs, cooking, gardening, spending time with friends.  some days it feels like i am resistant to life.  

i have done a good deal of work in the past year becoming more aware of when i am experiencing resistance.  more work is needed to increase my understanding and to start breaking through it in meaningful ways.  this year my friend and master yoga teacher cyndi lee will be helping me address my resistance to yoga through discussions that we will publish in a collaborative series of blog posts.  

i wanted my word for 2015 to reflect my movement through resistance, to be a little anchor for me during this year. what is the opposite of resistance?  how would the antidote to resistance be described in one word?  i went through discipline (too rigid), practice (all i could hear was my mom nagging me to sit down at the piano and do my scales), action (made me want to take a nap), focus (feels like a work word), many renditions of "go with the flow" like fluidity, water, river (these began feeling way too loose than what i'm looking for).  by the way, if you are interested in a peek into my own special brand of resistance, the one i employ hundreds of time throughout the day, reread this paragraph.  it just happens to be overthinking.

sunday at 2:30am, i lay awake with an unusual touch of insomnia.  i wanted to read but didn't want to turn the light on and really didn't want to leave the warm bed.  so i grabbed my kindle. you guys, i even have resistance to my kindle.  good books that are stored on there have been neglected.  i've since abandoned my trial period of electronic reading and returned to the paper book, but i admit that it comes in handy at times like this.  

i turned on my device and navigated my way to the last bookmark i placed back in april:  chapter sixteen of karen maezen miller's hand wash cold.  chapter sixteen is about consistently showing up every day to do the work of our lives, attending to the details and maintenance of our ordinary lives.  

it is about attention.

hello word.

hello 2015.

"attention is the most concrete expression of love.
what we pay attention to thrives.
what we do not pay attention to withers and dies.
what will you pay attention to today?"
-karen maezen miller, hand wash cold: care instructions for an ordinary life