Biocultura Madrid

Hey loves,
It’s BioCultura this weekend in Madrid and I am going!  I have only been to this event once, in Valencia.  It was very busy and most entertaining. It was there that I met the sales rep from Hyla, the amazing air filter and vacuum cleaner that I use to clean my house.  I also picked up a divine 10″ cast-iron frying pan, if I do recall.   Tomorrow, I am going to have a look at some very special rebounders, or trampolines.  As you may have gathered, I am an expert on the lymphatic system, and rebounding in the best ever exercise for the lymphatic system.  So, watch this space.
(PS  Rebounding and yoga are not mutually exclusive, you know.  I would actually say that they are rather complementary 🙂

How to be a good yoga student

There is a lot of talk out there these days about how to  be a good yoga teacher.  I think that the best way to be a good yoga teacher is to be a good yoga student.  Here are my tips for how I try to be a good student of yoga.

  1.  I use my own yoga mat.  This is a pretty basic aspect of yoga.  You will spend quite a lot of time on your mat.  Your bare feet and your sweet face will most likely touch the same parts of the mat on many occasions.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t tend to nuzzle strangers’ feet.  I also happen to think that, over time, your mat becomes impregnated with your psychic energy.  I really encourage all good students of yoga to invest in a non-slip mat, and to keep it clean (they launder on a cool cycle really well – tip of the day!)
  2. I don’t eat for two hours before practice, and don’t drink for one hour.  I don’t drink during class.  The energy of digestion is a downward-moving energy.   In yoga, we are channelling energy and moving it upwards, usually.  If you are digesting, you create confusion within.  Better to practice while fasting.
  3. I don’t practice when I have my period.  Guys, you beat us on this one.  The ladies are required to miss a few days per month, for the same reason as above.  The menses are downward-moving.  Yoga moves things upwards.
  4. To be a good student of yoga, I maintain silence before and during practice.  Enough said.
  5. I practice six days per week, usually the same practice for a period of months, if not years.  I know that this sounds craaazy to a beginner, but it really is the essence of the yogic mind.  I figured this one out right at the beginning:  I took a beginner’s class at the Sivananda Centre in London.  There, they told me that the objective of the course was to encourage home practice.  I thought “ok”, bought their book and started practising their simple sequence of Sun Salutations and 12 postures.  I encourage you to do the same.  The only way to be a good yoga practitioner is to practise!

 
 

On death

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qK1BJkBJdtY&w=560&h=315]

Now, there really isn’t anything radically wrong with being sick or with dying.  Who said you’re supposed to survive?Who gave you the idea that it’s a gas to go on and on and on?
And we can’t say that’s it’s a good thing  for everything to go on living, from the very simple demonstration that if we enable everybody to go on living, we overcrowd ourselves.
So therefore, one person who dies in one way is honourable because he’s making room for others
We can also look further into it and see that if our death could be indefinitely postponed, we would not actually go on postponing it indefinitely.  Because, after a certain point we would realise that that isn’t the way in which we wanted to survive.  w
Why else would we have children? Because children arrange for us to survive in another way, by, as it were, passing on a torch, so that you don’t have to carry it all the time.  There comes a point where you can give it up, and say ” now you go.”
It’s a far more amusing arrangement for Nature to continue the process of life through  different individuals than it is always with the same individuals.  Because, as each new individual passes through Life, Life is renewed.  And one remembers how fascinating the most ordinary, everyday things are to a child.  Because they seem them all as marvellous, because they seem them all in a way tat isn’t related to survival and profit.  When we get to thinking of everything in terms of survival and profit margin, as we do, then, the shapes of scratches on the floor cease to have Magic.  And most things, in fact, cease to have Magic. So therefore, in the course of Nature, once we have ceased to see magic in the world anymore, we are no longer fulfilling Nature’s game which is to be aware of itself.  There’s no point in it anymore.  And so we die. And so something else comes to birth, which gets an entirely new view.  It is not, therefore, natural for us to try to prolong Life indefinitely.
But we live in a culture where it has been rubbed into us, in every conceivable way, that to die is a terrible thing.  And that is a tremendous disease from which our culture, in particular, suffers.

The gentleman says it much better than I can.  Please enjoy the video.  I will blog this week, promise.

Yoga teaches to listen to my body

Yoga teaches me that the body has needs, wants and desires.  These are communicated to the mind through pain, pleasure and longing.
Yoga teaches me that male and female – and everything in between – practitioners can come to respect the needs and signals of their bodies, overcoming the dominance of the mind.
Yoga teaches me that until we come to yog, we are necessarily involved in a submissive or dominant mind-body relationship.  When the mind commands the body to move-make-do-act constantly, incessantly, the body is obliged to do so, until it collapses in a foetal heap in need of sleep.  Sometimes, the abuse is so severe that the body rebels completely and starts to run the show.  But, the body does so through a passive-aggressive kind of submission.  “Oh, how I ache, it cries, I cannot wake I cannot sleep.  Help me!”
Does the mind listen?  Maybe, maybe not.  I suspect that quantities of pain killers are usually consumed before any listening begins.
Yoga teaches me that the dominant mind will first chastise the body, bending it to its will.  The body will oblige, but again, only for so long.
Yoga teaches me that true yoga begins to happen when the mind and body listen to one another, establish a mutually co-operative, symbiotic relationship.  Like a settled old couple, the mind asks for booze, the liver says perhaps not, the mind concurs, then perhaps has a small nip before bed, and the body happily settles into a comfortable sleep.  Or the body asks for magnesium, the mind is listening attentively and selects appropriate foods, the body is satisfied and the cravings cease.
Yoga teaches me that this is possible.  Yoga relies on an ancient body of knowledge in which a reproducible formula for self-realisation is laid out.  I have trod this path for 16 years.  I have lived these changes. I would not bother to blog about things I did not experience myself.
Yoga teaches me that we can heal the mind-body relationship.  Abhyasa-vairagya, discipline and detachment.  Yoga teaches me to keep at it.

Bonds, not things.

Yoga teaches me that the process of purification – tapas – is necessary and useful.  Yoga teaches me that the time for tapas arrives just when it should. Yoga teaches me to recognise the disordered perceptions handed down by our families and to modify them as needed.  My parents were both hoarders.  Not hard to justify if you grew up in Depression-era Toronto or WW2-time Leeds, as they did.  In the age of plenty, collections of yogurt pots and old socks are unnecessary. Yoga teaches me to discern between detachment and spurning.  I have spent the past year emptying my closets of clothes, books, cables, tat and trash.  The end result is a spectacular spaciousness where once there was clutter.  The elation at seeing emptiness outstrips the flea market triumph of the find that brought most of this stuff into my life.   Yoga teaches me that I could have ejected these things from my life much earlier, but the process would have been aggressive and unconscious.  I could have become angry at the clutter – this has happened – and rid myself of things that are useful or treasured.  Instead, I found myself one day in a place where I truly appreciated the things, gave them thanks, even embraced them, then happily let them leave my life.  It is a nice, comfortable process. Yoga teaches me that the space we empty of things can fill with other things, but they are not likely to be material.  We moved to a larger house in order to have more space for, well, everything.  Hobbies, art material, instruments, cooking implements.  But the only space that love needs is a corner in the heart.  The heart is infinitely big, its capacity untested in most cases. I don’t need a bigger house to house more things.  I need a bigger heart to hold more people, to make the bonds that tie stronger and stretchier.  But, caution, with detachment.  I hold you in my heart, but I never aim to own you. Yoga teaches me to lighten my home and open my heart.  Yoga teaches me, patiently and carefully, that our wholeness is something felt from deep within.

We need love, not splits

Yoga teaches me that what this world needs is more love, not more flexible bodies.
Yoga teaches me that postures linked to breath are part of a path, but the path leads to compassion and comprehension, not contortion or competition.
Yoga teaches me that when we undo the knots and become soft, we can learn to love without asking to be loved in kind. Yoga teaches me that we don’t lose anything by doing this – it is a safe practice, once we truly arrive at the place where this is possible, rather than forcing the practice by spiritual bypass.
Yoga teaches me to know myself deeply, profoundly, intimately.  Yoga teaches me to let go of the shame I feel about showing who I really am.  Yoga teaches me that when I do so, the anger also evaporates because it no longer serves.  It was just the tool I used to protect myself from the shame of showing my true self.  On guard!
Yoga teaches me that there are many people who are on the path who may be bendy but are still angry and/or ashamed.  Yoga teaches me that this is okay, that I may be one of these people and not know it, but if I am lucky enough not to be, then I can shine that good fortune out and be patient and encouraging, not critical.

Yoga teaches me that arm balances improve shoulder alignment

Thoracic outlet syndrome.  TMJ.  Frozen shoulder.  Tingling fingers.  All these conditions, and many more, have to do with the shoulder joint.  Yoga teaches me that using arm balances helps bring the shoulder joint into alignment. There is a group of muscles known as the rotator cuff.  Put simply, these muscles stabilise the shoulder.  They are usually pretty weak.  Modern life doesn’t encourage us to develop them.  Most people can’t even detect the rotator cuff muscles, when prompted. Arm balances can be symmetric or asymmetric postures.  Symmetric postures, like plank or downward dog, or handstand are more easily maintained because it’s easier to balance.  Beware bad habits, like rotating the shoulders upwards and inwards, hyperextending the shoulder and/or elbow joints.  The feeling I seek is like rolling the arms down and inwards from beneath the armpits.  If you aren’t feeling that, you are not engaging the rotator cuff.  Yoga teaches me to ignore the rotator cuff at my peril.  I will only get neck ache and head ache. Asymmetric arm balances are harder, but as with all asymmetric postures, they teach me about imbalances between the two hemispheres of my body.  Yoga teaches me to ask why I balance better on my right arm than my left?  Why do I rotate more on the left than the right?  Why does one shoulder click and the other lock or hurt.  I watch my imbalances, keep practising, and over time they correct.  Or they are less pronounced. Yoga teaches me to love my body anyway, just cuz. My osteopath adjusts my diaphragm, pericardium and hyoid and reminds me that seeking help is good.  When the yoga gets deep, things shift around.  Professionals are there to help keep us aligned and to reflect back at us what we are projecting.  I tend to overwork spinal extensions.  My osteopath reminds me that this tends to put my T10-T12 out of alignment.  So, I hold back.  Yoga teaches me to listen to the opinions of others, to let go of my egotistical all-knowing and to surrender. Yoga suggests to me that when I finally align my shoulders, my heart will feel freer.  All I want to do in this world is learn to love.  My armour comes off piece by piece.  Yoga teaches me not to fear my nakedness.

Yoga teaches me.

I don’t teach yoga.  Yoga teaches me.
For the past few months, I have maintained mostly silence.  All the amazing and transformative experiences brought to me by constant practice, I have kept to myself.   I lost the impulse to share, to blog or post about my feelings or openings or closings or understandings.  It…just went.
I stopped caring about capturing yoga students.  I stopped caring about adding a fresh voice to the yoga blogosphere.  I stopped trying to be clever, new or insightful.  I guess that I went inside.  It felt good.  It feels good.  My inner voice is loudly private.  What bearing has my experience of yoga on yours?  Very little.
For this reason, out of the silence came this phrase:  I don’t teach yoga.  Yoga teaches me.
Say it to yourself.  Repeat it a few times.  Change the intonation.  You will see what I mean.
Yoga teaches me to be patient.
Yoga teaches me to listen.
Yoga teaches me the value of constancy and dedication.
Yoga teaches me that pain is a signal to stop.
Yoga teaches me to listen to my intuition, to stop when it says stop and to pay little heed to what others are doing.
Yoga teaches me that when people are ready, they will arrive.
Yoga teaches me that some people are never going to be ready for yoga, in this lifetime, or perhaps in the bit of a lifetime that you may know them.
Yoga teaches me to love those who don’t practice with equal intensity and without judgement.
Yoga teaches me that people’s bad behaviour is a sign of their inner suffering and they need compassion, not criticism.  But you don’t need to be their best friend, either.
Yoga teaches me that being alone and maintaining silence is often the only remedy.
Yoga teaches me to delay gratification.
Yoga teaches me to communicate clearly and non-violently, verbally and non-verbally.
Yoga teaches me to look within, assess clinically what I find, undo the knots and find out that I too have a lovely, gentle, kind, open, accepting soul.
Yoga teaches me that what I thought to be “me”, what I mistook for “who I am”, those things people call character, is all an illusion, an armour that I made while trying to protect myself.
Yoga teaches me to remember this armour for when I need it, but to shed it most of the time.
Yoga teaches me to relax.
Yoga teaches me to be, and in being, to do good, while remaining detached from the fruits of the actions.
I don’t teach yoga.  Yoga teaches me.

Fundación Dharma

Maha Lakshmi
Maha Lakshmi

He tenido el gran placer de conocer a Luis, el director de la ONG Fundación Dharma y Dharma Travel, ayer en el Festival de Yoga 21J.  Me parece que hacen unos trabajos muy dignos y importantes en la India, en Vrindavan, el pueblo nativo del Señor Krishna.  Organizan viajes a la India, y dan de comer a más de 4000 personas al día.  Tienen un temple en Monóvar, cerca de Elda, en la provincia de Alicante, España, donde enseñan el Bhakti Yoga, hacen ceremonias de fuego y honran los días festivos indúes.
El vínculo entre la religión indú y el yoga existe, claramente.  Sin embargo, no es necesario tener ningún creencia religiosa para poder prácticar el hatha yoga.   Pienso que cuando entramos en el Astanga Yoga – con todos los ocho miembros presentes en nuestra práctica, es ligeramente más difícil separar el yoga del induismo.
Quienes me conocen saben que el mantra es lo mío.  He hecho todo una sanación a través del mantra, sobre todo el Gayatri.  Pero, claro, cantar mantras sanscritos casi siempre significa nombrar dioses del pantheón Indico.  Los mantras bija son menos “religiosos” y se considera que actuan directamante sobre los nadis y los granthis del cuerpo físico (piensate en los meridianos y puntos de acupuntura de la madicina china).  Pero, el rítmo de los mantras sanscritos me llama más la atención.  O mejor dicho, me ayuda más a orientar la mente en una sola dirección durante un tiempo determinado.
Pero no soy indú.
Hay todo un discurso hoy en día sobre lo que se denomina “cultural appropriation”, en inglés.    Es el neo-colonialismo cultural.  No sé que pienso de eso.  Creo que el futuro de la humanidad reside en mezclar todas nuestras culturas para creer algo pan-humanista.   No quiero ofender a nadie cantando unos mantras a Krishna, lo veo inofensivo.