raw

Its no secret that breaking up is hard. I've written about it more than once on this very blog. I'm now finding that the getting back into dating might be just as hard. Let's get real it might be harder. When you're breaking up everyone expects you to be a mess so if you aren't you're some sort of super hero. Conversely you're supposed to love dating.




And I do love dating, the flirting, getting dressed to go out and meet someone for the first time, those initial sparks of attraction, love all of it.

But, let's be honest here, I've had two important long relationships and they came right after each other. I was so in love so early on in both relationships that I didn't have time to overthink or feel insecure.





Now is a little harder. I've made this conscious effort to not just jump into the next comfortable thing. I spent the time actually wrapping up the last relationship before diving into something new. I've been plugging along going on first dates and swiping right. I'm realizing just how hard it is for me to get real with people.









So the fun has been had. We have common interests, we're attracted, now I have to open up. I don't know if its because I'm older or I've had my heart broken more but its tough. Instinctually when I feel like my feelings might get hurt I try and push back or get out. I am incredibly lucky to have people around me that are gently pushing me forward, assuring me that I'm making good choices. That feeling of raw vulnerability is scary for me right now.

Its the feeling of a backbend. When you press up and straighten your arms and your heart is just out there exposed. Its scary as fuck. And pretty thrilling.  


Namaste,

Rach

retaining yourself

Its not my first time writing on this subject, I have a hard time saying no. I'm a natural pleaser, a caretaker. Of late I've been working on being more careful with how I go about putting those efforts out into the world. I've realized I don't want to change who I am, I love taking care of the people around me, I just don't want to get taken advantage of by people who don't care for me back. I want to retain who I am by surrounding myself with people who get it.

Yesterday I got a text from someone who hasn't treated my particularly well asking me for a favor. It was so in my nature to just do the favor for them that I had to stop myself from responding right away and think it through. How would I feel after I did the favor? Like garbage was the answer. I would resent that I had taken my time to do something for someone who would never appreciate it or thank me. It was hard for me but I referred them to someone who would be able to help them and stepped out of the situation.

 

 

 

Now obviously that didn't work perfectly because here I am writing about it the next day. There is a part of me that is still worried that I might have been too harsh or that I should have just done the favor because it wasn't that hard for me to do. The stronger part of me knows that had I done the favor I would be upset with myself. Its a growing pain for me.

A few weeks ago I traveled with a friend to the middle of Florida for a race she was competing in. Not to sugar coat it, it was a pain in the ass to deal with. I had to sub my classes, board my dog, and spend my weekend in a podunk town. And I loved every second of it.

So what's the difference? A tiny favor for someone vs. an entire weekend away - on the surface the weekend away seems like the greater effort. The entire weekend I knew how much my friend appreciated me being there. I didn't feel for a second like I was "doing a favor" I was just hanging out with my buddy and I couldn't help but feel all the love she was sending my way.

My work is surrounding myself with people for whom giving my love and effort to, doesn't feel like work, or a favor, or an effort. I'm working on curating relationships where I can just be myself and trust that the people I have surrounded myself with are there with all the right intentions.

I hope you find the same.

Namaste, Rachel

selfish on valentine's

This year will be my first valentine's day that I'm not dating someone since I was in high school.  The part of me that loves being with someone, caring for someone, making them dinner on February 14 is incredibly sad. Romantically, I am on my own for the first time in my adult life.



But there is another part of me.

The part of me that's been loving coming home from work to take my dog on a walk then ride my bike to practice yoga for two hours, before I come home and eat eggs and quinoa for dinner (this is my idea of an ideal evening). The selfish part of me that loves doing what I want, when I want, without checking in with anyone else. I love drinking my coffee standing in the middle of my kitchen.
I love blogging on a Saturday afternoon. I love taking two yoga classes in a row on a Sunday morning.



I have spent years dedicating my practice to something greater. Someone else, an idea, a goal, a thought, and cause. I ask my students to do it every week.  For the last few weeks I've been asking for something different from them and I've been dedicating my practice in a different way.  I've been asking myself and my students to dedicate their practice to themselves. Do what makes you feel good on the mat, nothing less, nothing more. Walk out feeling better than you did when you rolled out your mat. That is my purpose. Feeling better can mean mentally, physically, emotionally, whatever you need right now.

That's it. So simple.



It has brought me incredible joy to practice in this way. In the way that months ago I found myself crying in pigeon, now there are times when I just crack into an uncontrollable smile. I am so damn happy with my life its overwhelming. 


I hope you're having a beautiful heart cracking Valentine's Day. I know I am.

Namaste,
Rachel

PS. One of the things I love most about teaching is making a playlist, here is my Valentine's playlist. The perfect music to fall in love, get busy, and break up to. valentines yoga 2015

you can't always get what you want, but its worth asking

I'm not great at asking for what I need.

Who am I kidding? I'm terrible.

I don't like to ask for help, I don't tell even those closest to me when I could really use them. Its not because I have some idea that I should be strong or I don't want to owe someone its because I like to be the caretaker. I want to be the one to help you when you're sick or tired; I don't want to burden anyone with my needs.

My great joy comes from cooking for someone who is busy, bringing them something they've forgotten. In college my friends called me "mama rach," clearly with reason.

This way of thinking has unfortunately led to the consequence that I seem paralyzed to ask for what I want. Last week I asked for something at work and was met with an offer that I could have what I wanted, sort of. My immediate reaction was to say, "OK close enough, I'll take it." But, that really wasn't what I was looking for.

I was encouraged by a friend to stick up for myself and demand what I really want, nicely of course.

You know what? I got it. I asked for what I wanted and was karmically rewarded. 

On the other hand last week I also failed miserably in asking for help. I was moving and wanted to be able to do it on my own like the fierce chick I am. Moving is really the pits, I knew I was going to have a tough time, yet I just refused to tell my people that I needed them there. I insisted up to the very moment I was loading the truck that I didn't need anyone.

It was miserable. I was so unhappy to be on my own dealing with the stresses of moving. But then my people did show up, they brought lunch, they helped build furniture, they hung pictures. I needed that moment on my own, that moment of being uncomfortable, of being reminded that asking for help is ok, before they swarmed in and saved me.

settling into our new place

Community is invaluable. Even as someone who loves to care take, I'm making an effort to tell people what I need and ask for what I want. I'm learning that when you take care of others, the good ones, the ones worth taking care of, want to take care of you right back. Letting them is the real work.

namaste,
Rachel

the here and now

goals, goals, goals, goals (please sing that in your head to the tune of Jay-Z's Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls.)  I love them. You know that by now. I love a to do list, a plan, an achievement. As the year comes to an end its only natural to reflect on where we’ve been, where we’re going. Buy into the hype that you need a resolution for 2015. What is your year going to be about? What will you achieve? How will you be different? I started to think as 2014 is wrapping up where all this goal setting is getting me.

I know it gets me thinking about the past. A lot. And planning for the future. Even more. Neither of these are really what I want. Be present, stay centered, live in this moment. That's what yoga preaches to us right? Yet, here I am bouncing myself between my past and my future, stopping on my mat in between on occasion. I can do it on my mat, so I know it’s possible for me. I get on the mat and for that hour or so I stop. I’m just present. Whether I’m teaching or practicing I don’t leave that room.

I do have those moments where I look around and think, "Thank you God. This is pretty perfect." It happens often, but I have a hard time staying there. I say thanks and then I start to plan how to make it happen again instead of hanging in that moment of pleasure, extending it, savoring it.

2014 was an incredible year for me and I am so grateful for every single moment of it. I learned more about myself this year than I ever have before; I’ve come to realize just how much more I want to learn about myself.

I can't say I’m not setting goals for 2015. I’m not just going in, seeing where the chips may fall, and then loving my life. I haven’t grown quite that way this year, I made a goal for 2015. I don’t know that I’ll ever be a person who doesn’t set goals, but I know that I can set a goal that gets me going more in the direction I want to be headed.

I sat down over the weekend and talked with one of the smartest, most accomplished people I know about goal setting. They might be even crazier than I am about schedules and goals. I knew having a conversation with them was going to bring me clarity about what 2015 has for me. As we sat talking about what our year would be like, I settled into exactly what my goals for this year are. I’m not splitting it up into work, personal, teaching, like I have in the past.

This year is going to be about enjoying the moment I’m in. Feeling that satisfaction I’ve been trying to hunt down. Figuring out what kind of space I want to take up. Following my heart and my gut even when it terrifies me.

2015 is going to kick ass.

Namaste,
Rachel

transition

Transitions. That moment in handstand when you engage your fingertips and start to bend your elbows. You're either about to look like the coolest, most graceful yogi, or come tumbling onto your face.

Last Friday night I was in a class playing around with a transition when I started to lose my balance. I should mention something at this point in the story,  I was in the front row about 6 inches from a mirror. I started to do the right things, use my finger tips, engage my core, press through my heels, but there was no saving me. I went full throttle into the mirror. Then came sliding down onto the ground like a cartoon, landing with an "oomph." "Are you OK?" my teacher had seen the entire thing. "Yep, I'm good." I was hysterically laughing. What else can you do in that situation? (As a side note I have a pretty badass eyebrow bruise to show for this feat of submission to gravity.)

It was such a perfect mirror of my life right now. Just when I though I was going to stick that landing, here I am sliding down the mirror.  I'm working on moving, adjusting my priorities, figuring out what exacting sticking the landing is going to look like for me. The hardest part about this transition is I have no idea. No idea where I'm landing, no idea how to land, no idea what the landing is supposed to look like. This just might be the first time in my life that's true for me... so that's scary.



I am a planner. I don't just want to know what I'm doing for the rest of the day, what am I doing April 18? Not knowing what the future holds is terrifying to me. I don't want to say I'm calculated because there is a connotation to calculated that is negative, but I'll tell you everything I do is written in a planner at least a week ahead of time. If you want to make plans with me, act accordingly.

I realize how crazy this is. I realize spontaneity is beautiful; waking up and doing whatever you feel like doing that day is the perfect way (for some people) to spend their Sunday. I am not that person. I feel unstable and anxious not having a plan.

So, the past month or so has been a real challenge. I'm trying to feel comfortable in those moments where I'm not sure what's going to happen or how I'm supposed to get there.

Am I feeling any more satisfaction? Shockingly- yes. Even when I'm not sure how I'm going to land I am positive that even if I go catapulting into the mirror, I'll look bad ass with that bruise.

namaste,
Rachel

unsettled

 I've been in a bit of a rut of late, so I've been searching.

Searching for how to make my self happier, more fulfilled, the best version of myself.

A few weeks ago I was in a yoga class and the teacher started talking about santosha. It was as if an explosion happened in my head. "That's it," I thought, "That's what I'm missing." Santosha is the sanskrit word for contentment, satisfaction, fulfillment. Its a word that has always resonated with me - if nothing else what I want most for myself is satisfaction. For a while I thought about it all the time when I practiced, it was my intention, what I meditated on for months. At the end of each class, and even throughout the day, I would think to myself, "Yes, I am satisfied."

And then I started to let it go. I didn't think of it as frequently, it drifted and dwindled. At some point I forgot about it all together. I became absorbed with other things, life got busy, it got complicated, and I stopped concerning myself with myself.

So weeks ago when a teacher mentioned santosha again it hit me deep. I haven't been feeling that settled feeling that to me is santosha in a while. I did all the wrong things, I blamed every element around me for my unrest. I sunk deeper into the feeling that I couldn't be satisfied. I had begun to worry that the unhappiness I've been feeling might not be something I can shake. I had let that go on for months, never working on the root of the unrest: myself.

I'm someone who's almost always in a good mood. I love to laugh and smile. Of late everything has felt forced. I feel like a shadow of my regular happy self. I see pictures of myself smiling with sadness in my eyes. I cried during the entire last half of a yoga class last week (those hip openers man).

The biggest problem with feeling like you're dwindling is how hard it is to find yourself again. If you catch it before its too deep it seems like you can bounce back. I shot down that rabbit hole and found myself so deep in I forgot who I am. And I know now that's my own fault, no one forced me, no outside force is responsible for how I feel.

Now comes the real discomfort, even deeper than the unrest I've been feeling, now I have to go deal with it. I'm being gentle with myself, but I'm also engaging in what is most uncomfortable for me. I am letting myself feel lonely, feel exposed. It sucks. But I know it won't for long.

Namaste,

Rachel

yogi friends

I'm not exactly the friendliest looking girl you've ever run into. My friends (I swear some people have managed to get over the first impression) lovingly tell me I have "resting bitch face." I see people come in and out of the yoga studio and everyone seems to know each other, they're all buds. No one talks to me.

One of my favorite parts about traveling is popping into little yoga studios along the way, seeing what different city's yoga are like: what kind of music do they listen to, what cool moves are they doing that I don't know yet. When I'm in one of these out of towner studios I can always manage to strike up a convo with the people at the front desk or with the instructor after class. I don't as easily make conversation with the other people practicing; I'm trying to get a feel for what the studio is like. Does everyone come in quietly and lay on their mats? Is music playing and are people chatting? By the time I've figured all this out people seem to be into their routines and I have a hard time breaking in.

At my own home studio I have my buds that I come to class with and I get pretty absorbed talking to them. Or if I come alone I don't strike up conversations with people. I see it happening around me so I've started to think about why that is. I've always told myself that practicing in the studio I teach in is a little weird. People look at me, a teacher, and expect things from me. They expect me to do advanced asana, not take child's pose, not drink water, not get tired. It makes me all strange and uncomfortable. Now, I have no idea if any of this is true, but that's my inner monologue.

I think the fact of the matter is I'm a little shy. Striking up a conversation with random people isn't easy for me. I'm the kind of girl who works with my office door closed. I prefer a dinner party to going to a club. I like tight intimate relationships.

As I've watched all these people around me chatting and laying out their yoga accouterments, I started to think about whether yoga is the place that I want to be making friends. The answer was a quick and obvious yes. These yogis are totally my kind of people, after work they want to sweat, on the weekends they schedule going out around class, they spend their money on weekend retreats and juice cleanses.

So I did something uncomfortable. I sat down in class a few weeks ago and asked the girl next to me about the shirt she was wearing. We talked for 10 minutes before class started and after class exchanged a hug and numbers with a promise to grab coffee soon. Painless. I've been having those experiences almost every class now for weeks. And you know what? I'm having more fun at yoga (as if I even believed that was possible), feeling less like I have a role to fulfill as a teacher, and growing my circle of yogi friends. Pretty dope.


namaste,
Rachel 

if you don't have something nice to say... don't say anything at all

A friend and I were discussing the other day a co-worker that has a bad attitude. We were joking that you would think someone in the yoga world would just be happy and yoga blissed out all the time, but unfortunately this person isn't.  I remarked that it is so much easier to be nice than to be mean. I made this comment to my friend in passing.  Days later she and I were talking again and she brought up what I said and told me it had really stuck with her.

It is so much easier to be nice than to be mean or angry. 

Think about it. When you are angry you get worked up. You are unproductive because you are spending your time and brain power thinking about how you were wronged- a driver cut you off, your server is rude, your boss hates you. You can feel the pressure building in your chest, the anxiety, the heat rising in your skin.

Guess what? These are all effects on you, not the person or thing that "wronged" you. So the only person suffering is you. I've held this belief for a very long time. Its a completely selfish idea. If I get upset because of what's going on with another person I am the person that suffers, not the person who did something rude or hurtful, so its easier to not get bent out of shape.

Now, this is a great idea in theory. But, reality check- I'm not perfect, neither are you, so we're going to get upset. We're human, we have feelings. Its been a constant struggle for me to not take things personally.

I'm the kind of girl that if I recommend somewhere for you to get a manicure and you don't like it, I feel personally responsible. I recognize that this is irrational, I didn't give you manicure, I'm not at fault, but I still feel awful.

Likewise I have a very hard time when someone insults me. Even if its the kind of snide comment that isn't really meant to dig deep, it does. A comment about the height of my heels can leave me reeling for a week, thinking of the smart comments I should have made in the moment, speculating about whether there was any truth in the insult.

I know how silly these things can sound, but I also imagine that each of you also has a sensitive spot that when someone pokes hurts. If not, tell me how you've managed to brush these comments off, I'm still trying to learn!

I'll tell you what I've been doing trying to do. I've been nice. As nice as I possibly can be. And not sarcastic, sugary nice, just nice. If a person makes a snide comment I am trying to realize that comment isn't about me, its about them, the tough day they are having, the fight they had with their mom, whatever else is going on in their life. The reality is, its easier for me to be nice than to be upset, be hurt, or be angry.

In the end, I'm taking the lazy way out, which is just fine with me.

Namaste,
Rachel 

SITI's and ICDA's

Whenever I invite someone to my yoga class their inevitable reaction is, "Oh, I can't do yoga I'm not flexible." Of course you're not! You don't go to yoga! If you go to yoga, then you get flexible. This is a mentatlity that I too am guilty of, I'm not good at something so I don't want to do it.

Maybe I've been thinking about this more because I've been teaching more beginners classes lately. I am amazed by what I see as the two categories of beginners, there are the "I can't do anything's" and the "Sure, I'll try its'."  What I'm about to tell you shouldn't come as any surprise. The "Sure, I'll try it's" advance in their practice much more quickly, that's a mind and body reaction.

These yogis, the "SITI's" already have their minds on the mat in a place of non-judgement for themselves and an excitement about learning something exciting. They're ready to sweat their asanas off and maybe look a little silly while doing it. I had a fellow teacher come to my class last night and she said to me that she liked that I gave my students an opportunity to fail. I joke around a lot when I'm teaching and I'm the first to acknowledge that trying things at yoga also means failing at things. Before you pop up into crow, you're going to fall on your face in crow, I regularly fall over and I talk about it in class all the time. One of my beginner yogis did just that last night, she leaned forward, fell down, got back up and nailed her crow. She had permission to fall, and knew it was a possibility, so it wasn't such a big deal.

On the other hand some of the "ICDA's" just stood and watched her. So, sure they didn't fall, which I guess is technically good, but they are no closer to getting a difficult pose. Getting to a place of doing that cool yoga pose, or learning something new, or trying something you've never tried before, is a place of discomfort. We all know that soreness in your muscles is the fibers tearing and rebuilding stronger. I think when you learn anything it is accompanied with similar soreness, an acclimation period to your new skill or knowledge. If you give yourself that space to fail, to be sore, to not know, the possibility for what you can accomplish is endless.

I hope you can find a place in your life where you are holding back and push it a little. Play with your edge.

Namaste,
Rachel 

awestruck

I had an amazing opportunity this weekend to practice with some of my yoga heroes Briohny Smyth and her husband Dice Ilda-Klein at, where else but, Green Monkey.  They were two of the sweetest people I have ever met, and I loved every second of their class even when sweat was dripping in my eyes and up my nose. Yes, I was upside down enough that sweat had the opportunity to drip up my nose. This was a special class, not just because of how much time we spent on our hands instead of our feet but because of the level of the people practicing next to me. 

People were doing some cirque du soleil freaky stuff that mere mortals don't can't do. I won't even tell you what Dice and Briohny (who by the way is 5 months pregnant, gorgeous, and still doing handstands) were doing because it was the stuff that yoga deities are made of, but watch their videos and you'll have a good idea. Their version of giving variations sounded something like this: So, you're going to float into a handstand (I'M GOING TO WHAT?), you could then come down into a one legged crow, maybe you want to come back into handstand, and switch sides, maybe a one handed handstand, maybe you want to levitate, OK yogis get to it! Watching my fellow yogis float into poses with ease that I can only hope to one day shove myself into was inspiring.  

Its easy to look up at the beautiful people around you with contempt from your sweaty blob on the floor, but instead I looked up with wonder. These peeps were doing AMAZING things, and one day I'm going to do those amazing things. I had the perspective of a beginner again. I remembered what it feels like not to be able to do most things, to look around at everyone else, and feel that pang of jealousy that what comes so easily to them is the biggest challenge you have ever faced. 

I am incredibly guilty of not wanting to do things that I'm not good at. I was reminded of this the other day when my girlfriend asked me to guess what something was and I flat out refused. I had no idea, so I was bound to be wrong. Why bother to try if you are sure to fail? 

And yet I've never had this perspective with my yoga, I fall all the time in yoga. I tell my classes stories all the time of my yoga failures and I have no shame in them at all. I’ve talked before about how who you are on the mat is who you are in the world, but maybe for me that isn’t true. I think I’m might be a better version of myself on the mat than anywhere else. I am able to practice all of the qualities I most admire true effort, compassion, truth, grace, gratitude and surrender, with ease on the mat, not so much in life. Perhaps a little perspective shift is in order. Rather than let my day-to-day life choices be dictated by a fear of failure, I could take my yoga perspective off the mat and into the rest of my world. 

What if this week you challenged yourself to be a little more like your yoga (or running, cycling, zumba-ing, kickboxing, meditating, or whatever else you do) self and less fearful? 

Namaste,

Rachel 

resolve

I'm a goal setter, I love a new year's resolution. I always find that as I start to think about my resolution, or goal for next year, I look back at last year and assess what I'm leaving in my wake.

self- practice with the puppy at home

I am of the strong belief that every moment of your life is a lesson. If you choose not the learn the lesson the first time, life will let you keep repeating that experience until you learn. That can lead to moments of incredible frustration. As you've heard me say one too many times, I over commit myself. In the moments that I think I can't possibly keep all my balls in the air I have to smile and realize I'm just not learning this lesson. You might remember my goal to wait 30 minutes before comitting to anything and I'm proud to report that I have been abiding by my waiting period as well as saying no more often. So, while that would have been a perfect resolution for me, I'm just going to have to find something else.

My resolution last year wasn't too lofty, just to waste less food. I tend to buy more than I need and let food go bad and throw it out. I did a pretty good job this year of buying fewer groceries, and throwing less out in the end. In the past I've resolved to be nicer, slow down, do more yoga, and call my mom more.

leading FREEdOM Flow 

I'm in a plane right now on my way to family vacation (mind blown by technology, wifi in a plane, who knew?) and I can't help but reflect on my year as I sit in my seat. 2012 has been one of the craziest years of my life without question. I completed another yoga teacher training, started teaching at Green Monkey, painfully ended a long and amazing relationship, started my LLM in Taxation, secured my dream job for after law school, and started a brand spanking new relationship that I couldn't be more head over heels about. Just writing it all out is exausting. I am beyond brimming with gratitude for my year, but I can't help but remember (with thanks to this blog) some of the tougher moments that I have gone through this year. It's with all these changes in mind that I've been trying to work out an appropriate goal for 2013.

This upcoming year promises to be another year of change, only this time I know it's coming, where as last year I seemed to be blindsided by change. I'm looking ahead to my last (thank G-d) graduation, studying for the bar, traveling back to Israel, starting a new job, and my first trial as a big bad lawyer. So when it comes to goal setting is setting a goal for the entire year even reasonable? I think that it might not be, I'm a big fan of small digestible goals, so I'm going to go for four smaller goals.  So here they are, in cold hard ink, which means you get to hold me accountable to them, which is very very very very scary.

1. Run my second half-marathon, beat my time from the first one.
2. Master my headstand.
3. Blog more than twice a month.
4. Keep in touch with the people I love more.

I wish all of you a great finish to 2012, fill it with the people you love, tell them that, maybe even a little more than you usually would.

Namaste,
Rachel

Look at the hot girl in front of you, OK now you're done

Anyone who knows who Bryan Kest is will understand my complete and utter excitement that I had the opportunity to take a 3 hour master class with him on Sunday. Bryan is the creator of power yoga as we know it, and he is the most no-bullshit person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.  He opened his talk by saying, "Well, I could either start by talking to you about how you bring your shit into yoga and you turn yoga into shit. Or we could talk about how every fucking yoga pose is stupid."  Welcome to my head spinning around in exorcist circles in shock at this man and his theories on yoga.

packed class for Bryan Kest

So Bryan talked for an hour about how we are polluting our bodies by polluting our minds with stress and killing ourselves, about how we spend so much time competing in yoga that we lose the whole purpose of the practice. He also managed to say shit and fuck more times than I thought humanly possible in that time frame, as well as the phrase "kunalindi shooting up your asshole" multiple times.

Let's just remember the reason that the yoga asana practice was created, so we could sit on our asana and meditate for longer. It wasn't so your abs would look nice in a bikini or so you could bounce a quarter off your tush. Those are just happy side effects of the practice.

The idea that really stuck with me of Bryan's was the idea to not look around the room.  He started the class by bringing us to virasana, or sitting on your knees, and telling us to look around the room.  "This is it for the rest of the class, look around, see what you need to see. OK, now you're done and you can practice without looking at anyone else." You've heard other yoga teachers say it, you've heard me say it, don't worry about what other people are doing on their mats, there is no competition in yoga.

no peeking 

Bryan took this idea a step farther, don't even look at the person next to you because the person next to you doesn't matter to your practice. All that matters in that you are getting the full benefit of your practice, and the only way to get the full benefit is to not look around the room and stay on your mat. We talk about keeping the mind still, staying with your practice for the hour or hour and a half you're in class and not letting the mind wander off the mat, how about not letting your eyes wander off the mat? How do you think you're going to stay present on the mat with your mind if you're checking out the guy with no shirt on in front of you.

Bryan made another point that spoke to me, as long as you are in your fullest expression of the pose you are getting the most benefit possible from that pose.  That means if you are doing utanasana, or as Bryan might remind us, bending over and touching your toes, you don't have to look like everyone else to get the same benefit as the person next to you. If you bend over and your fingers are a foot off the ground, but you push your sit bones back, your stretch your neck down, you engage into the quads, and open into the hamstrings, you are getting the same benefit as the girl in the lulus who's head is on the floor.

I would venture to say that bendy lulu chick might be getting less intense of a stretch than you are. That means you Mr. or Ms. with the strained face and the "inflexible" hamstrings are getting more benefit from your forward fold than lulu in the front row. Look at that you won. Now put your head down and stop looking around.

Namaste,
Rachel 

getting light

So you've heard me talk write (or maybe talk if you're in Miami and you come to sweat your asana off with me) about a heaviness in your practice.  Yoga has gotten me though some rough stuff in my life and I cannot encourage you to do anything better than get on your mat when your life is feeling terrible.  You will feel better there, I can guarantee that.

But a light practice, if you've experienced it you know what I'm talking about, its the best feeling. Those days when you float on your mat, you do things you never even imagined you might be able to do one day.  Your mind isn't jumping around, you just get down and get to sweating and you're so happy the entire time you're practicing you could just break into a little yoga dance. So you do a million vinyasas, because that is our favorite dance move.

My friends, let me tell you something, I have been having a lightness in my practice that I have never experienced before.

Add to that that people have been commenting on how happy I am.  So, a little part of me wonders just how miserable I've been due to the number of people commenting on my newly cheery attitude, but the rest of me doesn't really care. Yep, I'm a happy girl, happy on my mat and happy off my mat.

 I've actually been able to get onto my mat and practice more than ususal.  For me, and I know for so many others, our biggest complaint about our practice is we don't have enough time. It is almost impossible for me to get 2 hours to play on the mat. So I don't practice for 2 hours. I go play around for 15 or 20 mins before I teach. I throw my headphones in and listen to some of the new jams I've been introduced to and just mess around a little.

And you know what, my body and mind are grateful for the release.  My practice, in those few minutes is playful, there is no time to get down on myself or the new tightness I'm feeling in my hips (thanks to my ironwoman friend who has forced me to become a runner again).

Yoga is fun. Its supposed to be playful. Its so easy to forget that when you look around the room and see people with "perfect" practices or amazing bodies all around you. So my charge for you is to get on your mat, even for 5 mins. When you walk by a tempting wall just kick up into a handstand (I was doing arm balances outside of a starbucks yesterday). I can promise you a few things.  You will have fun. You will engage in conversations with some interesting new people, who will compliment you.  I'll see you on the mat my sweaty friends, even if its just for a few minutes. 

I also promised a little while months ago to post a video of me doing a crow jumpback with an explaination. Instead here you have a video of a lizard jumpback and I will give you a step by step how to.

1. Start in down dog, bring your hips up high, tuck the tailbone under, engage into the core.
2.  Step the foot forward into lizard lunge, keep the back knee up KEEP YOUR CORE ENGAGED (imagine how annoying I am when I repeat that in class). Press into both hips evenly opening into the hips. You should stay here opening up for several breaths.
3. Start to work the shoulder under the front leg. You can take your hand and shift the calf muscle to help the shoulder under as you see me do.
4. Straighten the front leg out, press into the hands, clawing the knuckles into the mat.
5. Start to lift the back toes off the mat, coming into the arm balance.
6. Pressing deeply into your hands shoot your legs back to take your vinyasa.
7. Feel like a bad ass.
8. Make a video and send it to me :)


Namaste,
Rachel 

apathy: the most un-yogic trait you can possess

Friday is usually my morning to sleep in late, take a nice long run, go to the dog park, and hang out. But this morning my alarm went off early and I jumped out of bed, put on real pants (ones not made out of spandex) and went to city hall to vote! This was my very first presidential election voting in person and after waiting for an hour and a half in line at 7am, I finally got to vote. And it was awesome.

waiting an hour and a half was not so awesome, but this view while waiting was

I headed to the dog park, still wearing my "I voted" sticker, smiling my "I just acted as a concerned citizen smile." Where someone remarked that he wasn't voting because "it doesn't matter" and "[I'm] retarded if [I] think [my] vote counts"  My head spun around and flew off of my body. Literally. A good Samaritan had to go retrieve it. Don't worry I've put some arnica and tea tree oil on it, its fine.

So, beyond the fact that its 2012 and this man used the word retarded, which is completely and utterly unacceptable, this man doesn't believe in voting. It is taking all of my effort to not go into a rant about how incredibly blessed we all are to have the right to vote, which remember is not a right in many places. Until recently women and people of color couldn't vote. But, I won't go there right now.

Let's talk about voting from a perspective of just being a person who is alive in the world. Forget about your political affiliations, the issues that press your buttons, just think about being a citizen who walks around in the world every day. You have to care about what is happening around you. You breathe air, you drive on roads, you see people jobless and homeless on the street, a crazy hurricane just hit New York. How can you not care?

Maybe this is a result of having the mother that I do. A mother that made it clear that the problems of the community were my personal problems. A mother that made it clear that it was my responsibility, as a person who was educated and lucky enough to have rights and privileges that other do not enjoy, to make sure the world was a fair place.

What's my point here you might ask, and how does it relate to yoga? OK I'm getting there, hang on.

Apathy. That is my point. Not only is apathy just about the most unsexy quality a person can possess, it is also makes you a terrible citizen and person. Yea, that was kinda harsh, but I also think its very true.  I don't know when people thought this became cool, but evidently there are people that think not caring is cool. It isn't.  It is extraordinarily lame. As lame as using the word retarded as a slur.

In yoga we dedicate our practices to bigger ideas and things that need our energy, we as teachers dedicate our time through karma yoga, we as yogis go to charity class after charity class donating our time and money, we care. So I recognize that I'm preaching to the choir, but you the choir are out in the world with these apathetic people, they roam amongst us, dressed like regular citizens.

If you are apathetic to the world around you, you are barely a part of the world around you. We say it in yoga about the breath, if you aren't connecting with your breath you haven't even walked into the studio yet. So I'm saying this, if you don't care about what is happening to the other humans roaming the earth with you, you haven't even walked into the world yet.

Yoga is all about caring for the rest of the world around us. Sure we care for our own bodies and minds, but we also care so deeply for our fellow humans.  It's the whole meaning of namaste, we look into the eyes of any other person and see the higher power within them.  We can't just say namaste at the end of class, we have to live namaste. If you look someone in the eye and say "I see the higher power in you and I love you for it," you must care for that person.

Namaste,
Rachel


ps- A special happy birthday to one of my most loyal readers, my sister-in-law Jill, who has always taught her kids to care about the world around them and stand up for what they believe in.  Jill gave me my very first yoga job and I did my first teacher training in her studio! I love you!