Hatha yoga, pranayama and meditation classes in Altea and online
I found this lovely quote whilst surfing the yoga blogosphere:
Within me is my true self, and my true self is both good and beautiful, and therefore, I am both good and beautiful.
My life can touch others in a positive way and this gives me the power to change the world. I can change the world.
I have the power to love myself and to love others. I can be a positive force in the universe.
It would make a nice dedication when opening the class. AUM.
I have reason to contemplate the why’s and wherefore’s of my profession. Why did I choose to teach yoga? What do I hope to achieve?
I began my healing journey long. long ago with a single thought: I am not happy where I am. How can I change? At the time I was 18, just going back to high school after a two year hiatus of parties and low-wage jobs and high ideals. Embracing vegetarianism four years earlier with nary an idea of what this might mean for my body (I was much more concerned with ethical eating then), I had gained an enormous amount of weight. Yes, dear readers, a high carb, low protein, low fat diet will make you fat. Or rather, podgy. I was a podgy 175lbs and unhappy about it.
I decided to change and joined the gym – the YMCA to be exact. And I don’t mean once in a while I went to the gym. I went about five days per week, every week, in addition to being a full time student, working in the evenings and moving only on foot and bicycle. I was active and I instigated the change I desired. It took a long time, but I have great faith and even greater willpower. More than anything, I believed myself to be deserving of this attention. I was also scared – my obese father gasping in pain from angina, wired up in the hospital bed after coronary number one, shuffling ever more slowly after heart attack number two, gave me all the motivation I ever needed to try to live a healthy life.
When I “became” a “healer” (masseur), I saw that most of my most faithful clients are the ones most unlike me. Many people who put themselves in the care of alternative health professionals are using this as a substitute for self-care. That’s ok, we’re all on our own journey. But, a part of me could not stop there.
I chose yoga because it is a discipline that demands the student participate fully in her own healing journey. The student is the one who awakens on dark winter mornings to practise. The student is the one who holds the exhale even though fear screams loudly from the depths. The student is the one unafraid to critique himself and his motives, steadily digging out the ego and its tricks. Yoga asks a lot of the student and I chose to teach yoga because I admire those who are willing to take their own lives into their own hands and make the changes necessary. Or, be brave enough to fail doing it.
I see some professionals adopting messianic attitudes. Stick with me and you will be well! This in both allopathic and complimentary medicine. Yoga is the path of liberation. The ultimate goal of the yoga teacher is to make herself redundant. We want to foster a steady home practice, making the student ever freer and more independent. This is why yoga, unlike other disciplines, appeals so much to me, a confirmed libertarian. (I used to be an anarchist, but I like libertarian humanism much more…no violent undertones).
Yoga as liberation makes it dangerous. How so? Well, just as the Vatican objects to the yogic notion that a person can commune with The Divine without the intervention of a priest, some professionals (like physios or doctors or even dare I say it chiropractors) might object to the notion that a person can heal themselves. I don’t actually think that no help is needed. In fact, accepting our common need for interaction and the melding of human energy fields is part of the path of self development. But, the fact that we need human touch doesn’t mean giving up our own healing power.
So, dear souls. Believe in change, be strong enough to pursue it and set yourselves free. Kaivalya.
I had the great pleasure of returning to the stage this Thursday past. Yes, dear yogis, in my spare time I am a singer-songwriter.
I began this odyssey years ago. In fact, I could say that I have always been a musician. As child I played the oboe, and the recorder. I used to sit there with my tape recorder, registering a harmony to then play the melody on top. Too bad I only had one track! I gave up classical music, as most teens do, only to then buy a red Yamaha bass at the age of 18. I played in a band, and enjoyed mild local success, before shyness and nerves forced me off the stage. Life continued apace. I began writing more and more, diaries, poetry, laments, and soon, songs. It took me 10 years to buy a guitar and another four before I could tune by ear and play with some fluency. At this point, I bought my lovely Taylor 414CE cutaway and began composing the songs that I still play today.
Singing is related to the throat (vishuddha) chakra. Mine was most definitely blocked. I used to speak in a whisper and was plagued by the sensation of something in my throat. (In TCM, this is called plum-pit throat and is related to the Liver Qi). I bought a couple of books (Finding Your Voice, Zen Guitar), took a workshop (The Healing Voice with Jill Purce), but, mostly, I just sang. Over and over, through smiles and tears. Overcoming my incredible fear, I took to stage in open mic nights and small gigs in and around London. It was terrifying but I knew it did me good. Still, the fear was being pushed down, not truly overcome. But, I think that in yoga we have to push past our fear, be brave and have great faith, in order to grow. So, that was one phase of my growth.
Another phase of my work was taking control of my diaphragm muscle. The diaphragm is fundamental to the singer. My yoga teacher gave me a short personalized practice in which I did krama in the exhale. This means, the exhale was broken up into two or more parts, and then the breath retained with the lungs empty. For the first time in my life, I could actually locate my own diaphragm. My colleague Santi, a fantastic osteopath, adjusted my diaphragm and pericardium, loosening the tendons and leaving my breath much freer.
By now, my voice was vibrating nicely in my chest and abdomen. It was mellower and sweeter and easier to control. But, still, on the high notes, something was missing. In my ongoing reading – I am voracious, and practically only read on theme – I came across a few lines in The Anatomy of Hatha Yoga by H. David Coulter.
A famous conductor…once shouted…”No! No! Squeeze it in – push it up!” He may not have known it, but he was telling them to seal off and control the anatomical perineum – the base of the pelvis -and thereby cultivate what we have been calling abdominopelvic energy. All trained singers have learned that the purest and richest sound originates from this region. In the language of singers, the base of the body “supports” the voice.
Wa-hey! that’s the secret. On the high notes, all that perineum work I’d been doing in yoga would pay in by holding my voice up in a clean, sweet note. Hallelujah!
Yoga teaches us that within each and every human being there is a tiny spark of Divinity. We don’t need any mediators when we talk to God because God is within. When we first learn, then internalize this, our faith in ourselves grows and grows and we begin to value ourselves for who we are instead of what we do. Through yoga, I realized that my music, my words, my beliefs and my message are not only valid but beautiful and even Divine. And having that behind me, I take the stage with courage and honesty, and never try to emulate the music or sound of anyone else. This is freedom. And now, the fear is not being suppressed. It is no longer there. I offer it all to God with the simple mantra, Ishvara Pranidanah.
There is karmic cleansing here. My grandfather went down to London in the 1920’s and played his clarinet in the earliest SoHo jazz clubs. From my limited research, there was only a handful of jazz clubs in the UK at that time, so both he and my grandmother – they met on the jazz scene – were well ahead of their time. They married, and moved up to Yorkshire where dreams of jazz music were replaced by granite houses and the family woolens mill. A frustrated musician to the end of his days, Grandsir, as well called him, would get drunk on G&Ts and pull out the clarinet at Christmas, even as his dentures popped from his gums. My mum sang. In the choir, in Gilbert and Sullivan productions, in the singalong Messiah every Ottawa Christmas. My father was the greatest music fan. He wept and danced and collected music. His LP collection filled the basement of a huge Saskatchewan house by the time he died. I come by it in honestly. Music is in my blood. But yoga helped – and helps – me realise it in a sane and safe way.
When our karma (work) and our dharma (lifepath) unite, we find liberation (Kaivalya). Let yoga guide you towards Self-realization. And don’t think for a moment that Self-realization means isolation in an ashram. For some, maybe, but not for everyone. Sri Aurobindo’s contribution to modern yogic thought was the idea that liberation can be found here and now, in daily life, not only when the soul leaves the body. Be happy here and now. Bless y’all.
In an earlier post, I referred to the yogic process of character building using the yamas and niyamas. I find myself thinking again and again about this matter.
If you want to be authentic, lead an authentic life.
When no one else is looking is the time to do right
I want to be more like the ocean
No talking and all action.
I wrote those lines some ten years ago. Well, the last two are from the Jane’s Addiction song “Ocean Song”. I have been contemplating this issue for a long time, it seems. Perhaps this is because I am a person who has struggled to harmonize my inner and outer lives. I think that we all have difficulty, from time to time, being who we really are, all of the time. Actually, our society often frowns upon honesty. Artifice is the order of the day, as is syncophancy. Although we also swing wildly to the other side, with the trend of unhinged cyber-bullying seeing billious backhanders being left all over blogland.
I think that authenticity is saying what you mean, honestly, but not hurtfully. Treading the middle path between necessary truth and painful reality. Not mincing words, but never lying either. I always enjoy Rob Breszny’s Horoscopes, and this week’s was no exception:
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): *Sant* is a Hindi word that comes from a
Sanskrit verb meaning “to be good” and “to be real.” Personally, I know a
lot of people who are either real or good. But few are both. The good
ones tend to be overly polite, and the real ones don’t put a high priority
on being nice. So here’s your assignment, Gemini: to be good and real; to
have compassionate intentions even as you conduct yourself with a high
degree of authenticity; to bestow blessings everywhere you go while at
the same time being honest and clear and deep. According to my reading
of the astrological omens, you have the power to pull off this strenuous
feat.
To be good and real. To be good AND real. To be GOOD and REAL. Challenging, eh? I trend towards real and not very nice. My critical mind and built-in idealism keep me constantly disappointed. ha! There, I said it. I like to think that I keep standards up – I certainly keep people on their toes, as all critical people do. But, sometimes it’s not very comfortable to be constantly on one’s toes! But, my critical mind interjects, comfort zones are dangerous places! We need to work our boundaries in order to grow. Yes, replies my tolerant, nice mind, but not everyone wants to grow. But! interjects critical mind again, they’re just lazy then! ARRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH! You see, the internal dialogue continues.
I believe that I should just follow another one of my Rachelistic proverbs “Stop judging, start loving.” But, perhaps it is better to amend that and say “Judge lovingly, critique gently. “
Authenticity and honesty don’t need to preclude kindness. In fact, the message is much more likely to be heard when delivered with soft words that don’t wound. Maybe it’s pride and hurry that makes it come out harshly. Maybe it’s my own emotional attachment to the idea of changing the world. Change comes slowly and is already in progress.
Ya está en el calendario. Allí no puedo colgar el poster. Asi que, aqui lo teneis.
It’s in the calendar, but I can’t add attachments there. So, here’s the poster with all the pertinent info.
Oranges have always posed a juicing problem for me. I don’t find that they mix very well with greens – not as well as apple or pear, that’s for sure. I find even the sweetest oranges probably prefer to be on their own, or mixed with carrot, lemon or another sweet fruit like mango or peach. I just don’t get orange and celery or orange and chard. And my stomach doesn’t, either.
The Macrobiotic diet is staunchly against citrus. I don’t agree with most of their philosophy, and here there’s no exception. I mean, what does some Japanese guy know about a Valencia orange, in season and in it’s own land? Nuthin.
Ayurvedic diets include seasonal fruits and orange is no exception. Again, seasonal is the key here.
I read once about a high-profile raw foodist who decided to de-bulk his muscular body and used an orange mono-diet to do so, with no ill effects. He lives in Southern California, though, so again we see “seasonal” and “local” pop up.
As a kid in Canada, I remember those wooden boxes of Christmas clementines with great fondness. My mum told me that, in Yorkshire after the War, children would be given a single orange in their Christmas stocking. And perhaps a banana. How times have changed, eh?
So, to juice or not to juice oranges? My conclusion is that OJ is best drunk solo and on an empty stomach. If you want green juice, avoid sweet fruits anyway, all but a little apple or pomegranate or pear.
The Girl with the Ganesh Tattoo. {Nudity} | Rebelle Society.
This album definitely buys into the modern-beautiful-fit-seductive yogini meme that people like It’s All Yoga, Baby so knowingly dissect. But, it’s beautful nonetheless. I doubt that any of you would reject a body like this if you were offered it – to live in, that is!
El otro día, tuve un discurso interesante con una clienta mía. Es ua persona que conlleva tantos enfermedades crónicas que casi ya no se distingue la persona de su traje de síntomas.
La hablaba del hecho que las síntomas son nada más ni menos que los mensajes del cuerpo. Sus dolores y debilidades son gritos de ayuda. ¿Escuchamos los gritos, o los ignoramos? La elección clave es si la mente decide oír el cuerpo, ó no.
Me dijó, ¿pero como se puede hacer eso?
Mi respuesta: Se llama voluntad, cariño. La voluntad es lo que nos permite seguir el buen camino sin desviarnos hacía vicio y la pereza. Aplicando la voluntad, permitimos que pasan los cambios fisiológicos necesarios para limpiar el organismo. Es decir, “si me puedo quedar seis días sin comer tarta, ó comiendo una gran ensalada al mediodía o tomando té verde en vez de café, mi cuerpo tiene posibilidad de desintoxificarse.” Queremos llegar a un punto donde el cuerpo está realmente limpio y fuerte.
El mundo moderno del consumismo está construido para quitarnos la voluntad. La tentación está de todos lados. Los anuncios son tentaciones puras y duras. Requiere mucha voluntad resister la llamada del mundo del consumismo. Me refiero en particular aqui al consumo excesivo de comida basura. El problema es que nosotros no tenemos la voluntad para resistir los gran arcos dorados del peligroso payaso vendiendonos sus venenos.
Os digo, entonces, aplicad vuestras voluntades hacia la salud, la plenitud y la felicidad. Pregunta constantamente -¿eso de verdad me hace bien? Tampoco seais egoistas. Se puede aprender a gozar tanto en la felicidad de los demás como en nuestra própria felicidad.
Elecciones sanos nos conllevan a otras más elecciones sanas. Buenas decisiones traen otras buenas decisiones y además, buen auto-estima. Cuando valoramos a nosotros mismos, somos más capaces de regalarnos los mejores auto- cuidados y mimos.
Se llama voluntad, cariño. Pruebalo.
Os deseo la mejor salud.
The philosophy of naturopathy asserts that all symptoms of dis-ease are the body’s sincere efforts to rid itself of substances that offend it. These substances may be foreign (dust, chemicals residues, micro-organisms) or come from the body itself, thus endogenous (organic acids, hormone residue). When the body is strong enough to rid itself of the noxious substance, it mounts a defence and sends it out via the nearest elimination route. The routes of elimination are urine, feces, sweat, skin shedding, hair shedding, and pus/mucus.
Naturopathy aims to avoid healing crises. But, sometimes they are unavoidable. Some people have a high tendency to mount strong healing crises. With these people, we have to be careful that their therapy is gentle, keeping them as comfortable as possible. Other bodies need a good, hard shove, and can tolerate stronger therapeutic regimes. Magnesium is a strongly detoxing mineral whose administration can cause strong but bearable reactions such as muscle and joint pain, low grade fever, sweating and fatigue. Don’t worry, this is just your body doing its work! Vitamin B3 (Niacin) is also strongly detoxing, causing flushing through the skin, redness and heat.
Of course, healing crises can be provoked by other modalities. A good, strong chiropractic adjustment can certainly throw things off for a few days as the body adjust to its new position and the eyes and ears rebalance. A deep massage can also release acids left behind in tired muscles, leaving us achey and stiff for a day or two afterwards. Again, this is only healing and should not be taken as alarming.
Yoga is a long term ally in the restoration of good health. But, we do have to set goals and keep our practice current in order to really shift from one state to another. Lately, I have been working the post Eka Pada Rajakapotâsana . It is a powerful pose because not only do the hips and pelvis have to be fully opened and rotated, the spine is in full extension with the arms held above the head and grasping one foot behind.
I was able to enter the pose twice last weekend and it felt great. But, it left my hips rather raw. Not in a scary way, just in a “I know this is good for me, but…” kind of way. Well, today my little pelvis could take no more and sent me to bed for rest. I have had a day of classic healing crisis: fatigue, aching joints and sore muscles.
I cannot stress enough that you should avoid anti-inflammatory and analgesic medicines if at all possible. Let your body do its thing and your won’t prolong your suffering, nor send it deeper. All will be well within about 48 hours. And, of course, don’t ignore symptoms if they become more acute. Doctors are there for a reason.
Rest, take liquid, don’t worry. If you have plans, break all but the most essential. Be honest, people who don’t respect your need to rest and recovery are probably most in need of it themselves and will thank you for being brave enough to set the example. I am not saying “shirk off” by any means. I am a very reliable person who is not afraid to admit it when I need some downtime.
I wish you the very best health.
One of books I constantly refer to is “Yoga and the Sacred Fire” by Pandit Dr. David Frawley. Frawley is an American Vedic scholar and a very worthy writer. I bought the book in India – Pondicherry or Mysore, perhaps? – and posted it home. It is a crappy Indian binding, but the information contained within is the only thing of importance.
Frawley discusses in depth the role of Agni (fire) in the practice of yoga. Fire is central to many parts of yogic/ayurvedic thought. First of all, it is one of the main five Elements (Bhutas) of which the entire universe is formed. Secondly, it is one the three main doshas, or characteristics, in the classification of body types. Fire is the transformative element, that which allows creativity to manifest, food to digest, minds to change and the old to give way the the new. Too much fire burns us up, too little leaves us sluggish. As ever, the yogic path is the middle path, the joyful and harmonious seeking of balance.
At my seminar this weekend, my teacher commented on my ability to eat and digest salad in early Springtime. I have a good digestive fire, and my creative fires also burn brightly. This wasn’t always so. Like many women, I tend to retain water in the thighs and often used to find myself dragging from one thing to another, making it through the day, yet exhausted.
I have spent the past few years learning about then cultivating my own inner fire. Part of this process has been the tending of the home fires. In October last year (2012), as winter began to make itself felt, I began trying to light the fire. I found it so incredibly difficult to get it going! I often found myself spending 45 minutes in front of the grate, blowing uselessly on burning twigs. I even bitched about it on Facebook, and got the expected comments about making a tee-pee and using small stuff at the bottom. Thanks, I knew that part already.
Nowadays, I’ll have you know, I am a one-match girl. I can get that fire lit in about five minutes and the house warm in an hour. I also find myself with much more spirit, a crackling, happy sort of energy, not brittle at all. Here, I leave you with a short clip of last night’s merry fire. I hope it brings you warmth and joy. https://vimeo.com/62053010