Hearing Through my Mother’s Ears
Joy had us working on the things we felt most uncomfortable, uncertain about teaching. She had all the trainees doing various Sun Salutations and abdominal series over and over. I may ache in the morning.
I hadn't volunteered for anything since I feel pretty steady with teaching all of those things. I've been teaching them for months, if not a few years now. When she put me on the spot about which one I wanted to practice I said really the thing that makes me most nervous is chanting and "Om" at the beginning of class, something I was doing today.
I practiced it with my training class and Joy was commenting about how to go beyond that nervousness. She was noting that she didn't want to "play therapist" but was alluding to the ways in which we're told we're too loud, etc.
I said that it wasn't all that hidden. That during childhood I was repeatedly told I was too loud, talked too much, and no one was interested. When it came to music I was told I "couldn't carry a tune in a bucket" and, except for one embarrassing talent show (all my peers thought my performance was completely, laughably lame) was actively discouraged from any interest in music. It wasn't until I was in college, over 2000 miles from home, that I took some vocal lessons.
I never got comfortable with it. Never have felt like I could just sing and get over it. Chanting service after zazen at the Dharma center has been excruciating but I've gotten a little more comfortable with it. Chanting at the beginning of a yoga class feels closer to singing and everyone looks directly at you, unlike chanting service where no one really looks at me.
What I noticed was how I'd curled up into a protective ball talking to my teacher training class about it. I'd gone from sitting cross-legged, body open, to a tight posture with knees drawn up and into the chest and my arms wrapped around the shins. Several of my co-trainees and Joy noticed the incredibly protective, defensive body posture I'd moved into.
But I chanted Om at the beginning of class with 8 co-trainees, 1 teacher and 18 students looking at me. It was OK. Not comfortable, but OK. I felt better once I moved into teaching pranayama and a meditation on the breath.
And on that theme, today's poem:
My Mother's Ears
My voice sounds
Too loud.The ears that hear
my voice belong
To my Mother.
Her ears that
Decide the voice
Is too much,
Too often,
Too loud, and
Tuneless.Not sure when
I began to listen
To my voice through
My Mother's ears.
When I talk about
Singing I hear
Pure tension and
My body curls into
The smallest
Possible ball.
The Gift of Unexpected Back Bends
I went to teach yoga feeling the same fatigue I've been fighting with for a week or two now. My throat never gets beyond a little "scratchy" feeling and I'm sneezing a bit (but the trees are starting to get leaves), but never really where I feel sick. Mostly just so tired out and my shoulders felt a little sore from the class I took at Exhale last night.
Three students showed up tonight and one of them, a returning student who has a more advanced practice, asked if we could play around with "wheel" pose. Really this pose is called "Upward Bow" and I had noted a couple of weeks ago I couldn't teach it because my shoulders were so badly strained. Tonight when she asked I realized I didn't have to demonstrate how to do the pose perfectly so much as I needed to be very precise in verbally teaching it. That and very mindful of my students.
I put together a class to work towards ending with upward bow pose ; opening the front of the legs, warming up the abdominal muscles, and waking up the strength in the shoulders. Not too vigorous so they would have the energy to lift up at the end of class. I got everyone set up with bricks against the wall for extra length and as I finished helping the two very new students I looked over to see the returning student, L, UP in the pose all on her own!
I believe we were both equally excited about her getting up into the pose when she didn't think she would be able to!
I then partnered with one of the newer students and we were able to cradle L through a drop backwards into upward bow! The two new students, having both seen and helped someone into the pose, felt brave enough to try it after that! Each of the three students did the supported back bend! There were many smiles, much laughter, occasional "oofs", and spontaneous applause.
It was just amazing working with them and receiving another lesson in the ways in which my inability to do a pose perfectly, or at all, matters so much as my mindful teaching. I found myself sitting bemused and filled with gratitude while they all lay in savasana at the end of class. How sometimes the manner in which I can be pushed outside of my own limits to realize another way is possible is a delightful experience.
Out of gratitude for the gift of the class tonight I wrote a poem for the 30-day Challenge about learning from my students.
Student-Teacher
I learn from them,
These people called "students".
That arrive each week
And call me "teacher".I have learned that we forget
Self-compassion as easily and as
Quickly as we forget the breath
When experiencing a challenge.I have felt how laughter helps
To release the deep, sharp
Intensity in a body overly
Familiar with tension.
And how a room filled
With that laughter feels
Warm and welcoming
Even on the coldest days.A measure of the daring I
Possessed as a child has
Been reintroduced to me
Through people delighted to
Try something simply because
I offered instruction,
Encouragement and support.
Lineage of Yoga & Elephant Jackets
Yesterday I spent the day at the Portland Dharma Center as part of a small workshop on the theme Upholding the Sangha Treasure. I've been drained from the intensity of yoga teacher training and this was my only Saturday off since beginning of the year. In some ways it was the most focused discussion I've ever been a part of with Sangha members and I finished it just aching from the attention, the searching, the thinking, and often feeling like I wasn't doing a very good job.
CK had come down with a cold Friday evening and I was exhausted mentally & physically when I returned from the workshop. After minimal discussion I phoned Dalo's and placed an order. Once we'd enjoyed injera with the veggie platter (spicy lentils, mild split peas, cabbage/carrot/potato, and spinach/onion) we felt up to popping into the video store. Wall-E in hand we went home and curled up to watch it.
I'd wanted to catch Wall-E in the theater, but it didn't work out. I've heard and read nothing but good things about it since the release. I'd already purchased a copy of 'Down to Earth' to put on my iPod (well, that's more due to my decade-long appreciation of Peter Gabriel). It was really comforting to finally get to settle down and watch it, especially when I really felt the need for a quiet night. It was as beautiful, charming, and thoughtful as I'd heard.
Today I woke up feeling kind of shaky, not sure if I'm coming down with CK's cold, but my head hurt and I felt drained. I did not want to go teach yoga. It was certainly a morning where the commitment to teaching, the fact that people will show wanting me to teach them, sustains my practice. Without the knowledge that students would arrive starting at 11AM I would have easily crawled back under the covers the rest of the day.
That knowledge propelled me into the shower and out the door to Dishman. A brand new student arrived who'd decided to try a class out since she'd gotten tired of her DVDs at home. Dove's Mom, Claudia is visiting from Eureka. It is always a delight to see both of them. We did some side opening, hip opening, and several poses for the core muscles. I ended the class with the challenge of half-moon pose.
After class there were smiles and people telling me how much better they felt than at the beginning. I too felt better, I nearly always do feel better after teaching a class. It is those classes where the disciple of practice and the respect for my students brings me to the mat, but I just let myself be a vehicle for the five thousand years of history. At those times I am grounded, centered in the practice of upholding the lineage of teaching asana.
When class was over, as people were gathering up their stuff to go, Zoe held up a marvelous white jacket asking if anyone would like to have it before she donated it to Goodwill. The jacket has embroidered patches featuring elephants, beads and small bells. It had been a gift to her from a friend but she no longer wore it. I asked to try it on and everyone still there smiled, saying I had to keep it.
And so I did. I believe I'll be wearing it at the "graduation" party when teacher training ends. I look forward to a suitably festive ZCO event to wear it to in the future.
Flowing
At Dishman they've been splitting my classes into 5-class series and tonight began a new series. A few weeks ago the activity director and I decided we'd set my class start time to 6PM in response to some feedback I'd received from students. The spring calendar will print this, but for the remaining winter class he said that the front desk would just let students know the change in time when they register.
Tonight I set out for Dishman, found some parking and headed back to the room my classes are held in at 5:50. Sitting on the floor of the room looking confused were eight new students. I asked them if they'd been informed of the new start time and all said they had not.
Yikes! And the props closet was locked! I popped my head into the site director's office and checked -- the change in time had never made it into the computer! Well, at least the answer was obvious. I quickly got back to the room
I really dislike it when things like this happen. I make a point to have a few minutes before students arrive to set up my mat and sit for a few moments so my mind is settled. I don't like feeling rushed in the first place, but feeling rushed around teaching yoga is especially irritating to me and unsettling too!
This are the kind of situations where I really try to remember that when I teach yoga I am representing a lineage of teaching thousands of years old. It doesn't matter that I'm flustered, I need to be the method by which the teaching is transmitted to others. I just need to rely upon the knowledge in my body and let my words drop into just vocalizing what my body is telling.
The class went just fine. Yes, in being flustered I occasionally was off in the directions I mirror to my students. People were smiling, the class didn't seem to overly tax anyone, but a new student who's studied Hatha yoga for a few years still enjoyed herself. The new student who's been told that she needs to no longer practice Bikram style due to the heat said that the class was very different, but she enjoyed it.
Grounded in Teaching
Had a great time at my class tonight. Only a couple of students showed up so I tried out the idea I'd had for a class that worked towards doing shoulder stand. I was amused to discover that after doing a series of forward bends and hip openers that my stretched leg was an inch longer than the un-stretched one! Confirmed how stiff I had felt last night after class certainly!
With just the three of us it was a small class with lots of time for questions. It was very comfortable and a lot of fun. I tried out the lift adjustment on a regular student who was there, it was a lot of fun to be able to assist someone further in shoulder stand. With it being just the two students it was very easy to check in with them both often.
The energy of a large group is fun, but it is very special to devote my attention to just a couple of people at a time. My Sunday class has become such a mix of students needing modifications and students who are more practiced that it was really nice having a easy night without a lot of modifications and the space to just flow through the whole class. I think it is the mix of Sunday that makes it challenging since I'm mindful of keeping things moving along for the students who have had more practice or are not injured.
I've noticed I feel a little tired after Sunday's class from the effort of keeping track of everyone. Not that it is bad, I don't feel drained or exhausted, just noticeably tired mentally. I feel the recharge of teaching, the way it is grounding to me. Just a bit tired from the extra effort to track so many different levels of practice at once. Even still, each class I teach grounds me in the conviction to teach more.
Just a Tuesday
Nothing but the buzz of irritation today, especially during the day. I went into the office for the first time in ages and it was tough being around people. I've been so used to being on my own during the day that it felt difficult to integrate with co-workers and hard to focus on the work I need to get done.
Let a message for Curtis about changing my Tuesday evening class to a 6PM start time. Have had feedback from Sunday students that they would like to come Tuesdays, but it is just too difficult to make it there at 5;45. This shouldn't be a problem. The front desk person (kicking myself for drawing a blank on her name) even noted I should just tell people next week that we're moving the time and when people call to register the front desk crew will just tell them.
Friends from college and I are discussing trying to get everyone together within the next two years. Not really associated with Beloit, just getting a group of us together to catch up, play games, and meet families. It is a bit strange to be reconnecting with everyone after so many years, not in a bad way, just part of the general oddness of reconnecting with myself again.
I had intended to start work on the homework I have due on Saturday but instead enjoyed watching the rest of 'The Giant Buddhas'. It is a really marvelous documentary about the destruction of the sculptures at Bamiyan and the efforts to make a memorial there. Rather sadly we discover that a memorial, and being declared a World Heritage Site means the displacing of people who had lived in the caves for generations. The film also takes us to the Kabul Museum -- very sad to see the extent of destruction, but still inspiring to see efforts to restore the cultural heritage of Afganistan.
The Brightness of Day
It has felt like an especially long week where I have felt guilty for my inattention to the present, especially to people, and feeling like my emotions are right up near the surface is very challenging to me. It can be very difficult for me to be alright with needing people, with needing support.
I am far more comfortable giving support and strength to someone than I am at receiving it. I try to be mindful that my opening up to receiving creates space for another person to practice giving, but it is still very challenging for me. I often feel like I am imposing on someone else when I am not capable of being strong and giving all the time so it makes it even more difficult to ask for support and care, even when I really need it.
One place that helps me practice are the times when my yoga students tell me the appreciate something I've taught them. It is still actually uncomfortable, receiving praise, but since it is a result of something I've done it feels easier to work with than accepting support. What it makes me realize at times, like today, is how accepting praise gratefully and gracefully offers me support in my life as well.
Today's all-levels class at Dishman posed several challenges. My body ached this morning and really didn't want to have to leave the cozy comfort of the flat. When I did arrive to Dishman one of my regular students revealed his newly broken right wrist, left elbow, pulled right hamstring, and a scrape the size of a poker chip on the left knee! I inquired if he was certain he should be there, but he assured me he wanted to be there. Everyone else arrived to reveal they felt cold, tired and "curmudgeonly". A newer student arrived who is very new to yoga asana and isn't really in is body yet, so it is extra work to help him into correct alignment. What a mix!
Looking around at all of them I announced we'd do some gentle stretches to open the legs and back, some twists to wring all that cold energy out, and we'd do a lot more breath work, Pranayama. Everyone seemed fine with that and I led them through some basic seated asana, a twist, then we sat doing Viloma breathing for a while before some time for meditation.
During this time I decided to practice in an area that's not the most comfortable for me -- guided visualization. I don't do well with visualizations or counting when I meditate. Any mental activity related to cognitive thought sets me off and I think, think, think, think, think! Nothing but monkey mind, a whole roomful of monkeys analyzing, computing, theorizing. Because of this I focus my attention on my diaphragm and the movement of breathing there.
With this bias I know that I most often teach mindful breathing, of following the breath into the body. During this time I will remind my students to just be aware of a thought arising, notice it, "Hey, there I am thinking again." and let it go, return to the sensation of breath. Sometimes I add the suggestion from Thich Nhat Hahn to mindfully label the breaths. I'll suggest that the mind's activity merely identify, "This is me breathing a long, deep breath in. This is me breathing a long, deep breath out. This is me breathing a short breath in. This is me breathing a short breath out."
I admit I'm biased so today I decided to add a visualization in there, one that Joy's taught us and I've heard before elsewhere. I suggested to everyone that they imagine their minds as a deep, blue, clear, still lake. Whenever a thought came up, just see it as a bubble rising to the surface of the lake and popping there. Watch the ripples from that arising thought move towards shore, how they get further and further apart until the lake surface is calm, still again.
We then moved through three different asana to awaken and strengthen the core abdominal muscles. With that heat and awareness built I seated everyone again to do Kabalabhati. I was pleased that this time I was able to stay more focused on what I'd be teaching next -- the first time I tried teaching this I was energized but distracted! Everyone came up into Bridge pose to lengthen out the muscles of the abdomen after working so hard. A few half salutes to shake out the body, Tree pose, ending with their choice of Down Dog or half forward bend at the wall, a supine twist and savasana. During savasana I invited them to return to the visual of their mind as a lake.
It was probably the fewest poses I've taught in a class that wasn't designated as a 'restorative' class, but no one seemed to mind at all. Afterward people commented on feeling very good, stiffness wrung out a bit, and the mental cobwebs clear. The student with the injuries especially said it had felt very good to him. He noted that people had asked him in surprise about his coming to yoga, having injured himself on Monday, but he said to me that he'd told them he knew that I'd be able to come up with something for him! Talk about my student having greater confidence in me than I do!
Another gift was from my student who is the most new to yoga and is still learning how to feel his body, be in his body. He said that he has a hard time with the breathing and meditation, but today's class focusing on those things really helped him a lot. He said the visualization of his mind as a still lake just rang true for him. That visualization, which doesn't work well at all for me, was an "Ah-ha!" moment for him. He suddenly understood and connected to the concept of watching his thoughts arise, not getting caught up in the thought, and letting the mind settle again. He left class telling me what good teacher I was, that my ability to teach him despite his confusion, stiffness, and distraction made him feel safe learning something very new and uncomfortable.
Wow. Talk about shining some pretty bright lights in my little corner of the world!
When my students tell me things like this I feel so deeply humbled by it. I've often said that I when I teach Hatha Yoga I feel like I am merely a conduit for the 5000+ plus years yoga has been practiced. I merely am the vehicle for a long lineage of teaching. A student recognizing me, the person teaching, for skillful instruction is such a precious affirmation of my ability to rise to the challenge each class presents. The idea that I personally help them to know compassion and comfort in their body, regardless of the ease or dis-ease in that body, is incredibly precious.
In honor of the brightness brought into my life by sharing Hatha Yoga with students I titled this entry after one of Alphonse Mucha's paintings, The Brightness of Day
Go Team Pranayama!
I received the most amazing, wonderful, absolutely cool compliment today from one of my yoga students today!
Z waited for me until after class got done and people finished asking follow up questions. She told me that over the break she had faced a very difficult, life changing decision. A decision that could have dire consequences if she followed her desire over what her heart told her. She said she'd been trying to meditate and wasn't really coming to a clear answer no matter how hard she sought one.
Finally, Z said, she thought to try a Pranayama technique I taught her in last session, Kumbhaka Antara. She said that she used this technique for some time as part of meditation and when she finished sitting her answer was there. Although it wasn't the answer she was hoping for, she needed to not follow what she wanted.
Within a week, she went on to tell me, things changed so dramatically that had she followed desire she would have very likely lost her home! She told me how very grateful she was for the Pranayama I had taught her, that it was now a very useful tool in her life, helping her a great deal.
I feel so touched and humbled when a student tells me yoga helps them in any way. Having a student tell me that a yoga practice I taught them literally saved their home is just stunning!
Workshop?!
Each month I have a one-on-one phone call with my manager. We discuss what I'm working on, if there are other priorities I should attend to, what is getting in the way of my accomplishing my goals. We usually spend some time talking about ourselves. I often tell her about how my practice is going.
At the end of this year, as I was reflecting on 2008 and my practice with the precepts, how there is one peer at work who really challenges me. I find myself holding onto irritation with behavior of hers that I consider unprofessional. Not just the ways she interacts with me, but the way she treats others. I will have a call with her days after something happens and find myself curt with her, still irritated. Hanging onto the story about the irritation and anger for days.
As I work with the precept to not give rise to anger, rather to seek the source of it, I realized my co-worker offered a perfect opportunity to practice. I had thought about Bhagavan Das saying in the new and amazing production from 1 Giant Leap, What About Me?, that, "Worrying is praying for what you don't want."
In holding onto the anger and irritation it was just another way of praying for what I do not want in my life. I need to practice with working that those emotions, understand where they arise from and move forward from compassion instead. Why not start learning this at work, since I spend so many hours engaged in it.
I finished explaining all of this and some of the ways my teachers have provided insight on how to look deeply. My boss noted that on a very uncomfortable phone call with this person I had managed to interject something that sounded completely calm and supportive even though my manager said she knew I had to be infuriated by the behavior.
She then said that an objective for me around team building this year was to come up with a workshop for the whole team on how to work with irritation, change and uncertainty. Emotions my team has felt very much of this past year especially. KE told me she had this fear that I would become so in demand as a workshop presenter that I'd retire from my job very early. She said she really saw this, really saw me as providing workshops that integrate mindfulness and yoga for people in business, care givers, and trauma survivors.
When I told CK about it later, how I was so surprised and feel like I'm not up to coming up with a workshop for my team she smiled at me. She pointed out how wonderful this is, I now have my day-to-day job willing to pay me to come up with workshops for presentation to business! I hadn't thought of it that way at all, I'd been more focused on feeling entirely unprepared and lacking in skill for this kind of task -- listening to my inner critic!
A Welcome Return
My Tuesday has been a welcome return to routine. Got up early, sat zazen then had a shower and headed downtown. Talked to people worked on projects, ate lunch with CK and this evening one of the yoga classes I teach started up again. Although there were parts of it where I was feeling resistance to settling into the less-than-exciting, just wanting to be entertained, it was good to get back to even that familiar irritation. Nice to have rainy, chilly Portland back as well!
Class tonight featured one returning student who's been coming for a while, two people who've never studied yoga before, and one drop-in student who's taken a few classes here-and-there. The Tuesday class has favored toward the small side for a few sessions now. I've wondered if the 5:45PM start time keeps people away. I suspect we might be able to do a 6-7:15 class if it was very punctual about ending to accommodate the 7:30 Pilates class taught in the same room. I know one of my returning students didn't plan to start coming regularly again until spring, not sure about the other two who've been regulars.
With all the new people and a very stiff returning student, along with my still babying my shoulders, it was a fairly easy class. Spent some time in breathing, just introducing the practice of a deep, complete, yogic breath before moving through deep postures to open the hips and shoulders. Ended with garudasana (eagle) and virabhdrasana II (warrior 2).
I'm feeling a bit stiff, noticing how my legs and hips are feeling after the effort. I made sure to ice my shoulder even though I didn't use it too much. Trying to be mindful of Iris' advice after working on it to not use it too much and let the strain heal.