(Re)Injury

I hurt my back again.

I was having a fabulous two weeks of no pain. I started jogging lightly again. I started back bending more consistently. I was a bit tight and stiff on Friday morning, and when teaching, I folded forward into uttanasana and my low back went into those awful, painful spasms that I have come to know all too well.

It's funny, but I'm not as upset this time. Am I a tad frustrated? Yes. I don't like having to be inactive. But this time, instead of getting frustrated and blaming the world, I feel like I have a lesson to learn. I need to learn how to fix my body myself. Obviously, the advice of the experts wasn't helping me improve my low back weakness. I have the power in me and the resources at my disposal to figure out what is wrong and to fix it. For the first time in a while, I'm not looking to someone else for answers. I'll find them myself.

Oh, I could write an entire blog post about physical therapists, their high-horses, and their lack of the intricate knowledge required for yoga anatomy. But I won't, because placing blame is pointless, since my life is my own. Instead, I'll just remember that because I looked outside of myself, I didn't get the whole answer, because every BODY is different and a one-size-fits-all solution doesn't always work. I'm doing my own anatomical research, and found a missing piece to the back-pain mystery (I won't go into it now, it's a work in progress). As soon as I am well, I am excited to re-train my body to work correctly. I'm also excited to pass on the information I'll be learning to see if it can help my students.

The day I got hurt, my mental state oscillated between distraction (I caught up on episodes of "Private Practice" and watched "New Moon again") and a mindful calm. Between those bouts of rest on the bed or the couch, I retreated to my back yard, where I knelt on the ground, barefoot, to pull weeds, plant the garden, pull more weeds, slowly mow and trim the grassand plant a flat of small, green ground cover. I moved slowly, accepting my body as it was, and focused only on the task at hand. Being outside and using the simple activity of pulling weeds was so calming, so healing, that it reinforced my belief in the true healing powers of the Earth. Engaging in earth-based activities can bring a sense of calm like no other. It's one of the only places outside the occasional breakthrough yoga class where I can let thoughts of worry, frustration, or despair melt away and focus only on the moment -- on the dirt on my fingers, the spines on the weeds, the bark under my knees, and the satisfying feel of an unwanted root being pulled from the ground.

So I cannot despair. For even if I don't have my yoga asana practice, I can still have the peaceful mind, steady heart, and calm, calm, calm.

The two selves

I have been spending a lot of time by myself in asana, meditation, and thought this week. It has been beneficial for me. For the past week, I've practiced everyday, meditated most of those days, slept a lot, and started to reconnect with my Self.

Patanjali said that there were two selves; the True Self or the spirit, and the mind. In an article by Kate Holcombe in Yoga Journal this month (May 2010), Holcombe says to think of the True Self as the boss, and the mind as the assistant. What would happen, she asks, if the assistant acted as though she ran the place, without ever checking with the boss at all? I've found that when my mind takes over for my true self, I feel chaotic, ungrounded, unsure of myself and my abilities as a person, unconfident in my path and alone. Or, I can feel on a mission to the point of blindness, forgetful of the moral or need the fueled it, like the thought or goal has shushed everything else in my space and I have a one track mind. Usually, when I achieve the mind's goal and the white noise is gone, I usually feel defeated, guilty, or astonished that I could let the mind run the place for so long.

In Sutra 11.23, translated by Holcombe, it states, The inability to discern between the temporary fluctuating mind and our own true Self, which is eternal, is the cause of our suffering, yet this suffering provides us with the opportunity to make this distinction and to learn and grow from it, by understanding the true nature of each.

I know what my True Self sounds like. When the voice of my True Self is prominent, it speaks to my soul's desire and spiritual path on this planet. It speaks to support me and to gently guide me when I'm off track. It makes me feel beautiful, supported, loved and nourished. It reverberates through my body like a sound wave, ringing through the chakras. Depending on what it has to say, I may feel it in different chakras. When my mind, or my ego, is steering me, it's like white noise over the aura. When my mind is speaking, it acts more like a distraction or an obsession, and it blinds me from hearing my Truth. For example, I've lately spoke of this desire for purchasing. That is my Mind speaking. What is says is this: "You must have this item. When you receive this item, and not before, you will be a complete person. You will finally fit this ideal picture that I have of you." In other words, the promise of the mind is to make me complete through act. This obsession doesn't feed the True Self, who is complete already, and who bases everything, including purchases, knowing it is complete.

For the past couple weeks, the number of students in my classes has dropped off, and I have been wondering why. Is it my teaching style or ability or simply the student's shifting schedule? Like all teachers, I have my own style of teaching. My teaching reflects my personal practice and goals as a practitioner to slowly advance into more and more difficult asanas while keeping breath intact and clearness of mind. My teaching style is a little different than others at my studio. I took a nice class from another instructor, with a filled room, and realized what our differences were as teachers. During the class, I thought, "Well, I could teach this way, couldn't I, if I wanted to get more students?" But I realized that was my Mind speaking; the same mind that tells me I am inadequate if the number of students in my classes is lower than in other classes. After a day of thought, I realized that I can only teach what is true in my heart, and that the students who come find a connection with what I am teaching, and that is good.

In verse 1.29 of the Sutras, Holcombe translates: Those who have a meaningful connection with something greater than themselves will come to know their true Selves and experience a reduction in those obstacles that may deter them from reaching their goals.

This was another great "hello" for me. As I read this entire article, the cogs in my head went click and I realized how I had been affected by obstacles in my life. When difficulties occur in my life, it's my reaction to absorb them, to become them. When I injured my back, it wasn't just an injury to the person I am; I became that injury. Similarly with vertigo. I wasn't a person with vertigo, it was my vertigo; I had let it become who I was. What Patanjali was saying in this passage is that we need to learn to understand our connection with the Universe and our True Selves in order to experience difficult circumstances without identifying with them or absorbing them.

When I finished reading yesterday, I started to make separation from the difficulties that ailed me. I am starting to glimpse what I already believe: that I am a spiritual being in a body, rather than just a body with a mind. Vertigo or back injuries or PMS or weight gain or sickness or taxes do not define who I am; they are just things that happen to me. Patanjali suggested that everything that has an effect on our bodies and minds is something that is happening to us, not that those things define who we are. It could be argued then, that life on this planet is something that is just happening to us; it is an experience that we are using to grow our True Self. If that is true, then we really must learn to know and trust our True Self and the Universe (or Supreme Being, or God, or whatever you wan to call it). And of course, that we should take life less seriously and find more amusement. After all, it's just something that's happening to us. It doesn't define who we Are.

The Potential of Thinking Positively

I know that my life is shaped by the thoughts that I have. I know this. And I know that when I feel like the world is wobbling underneath me and things are getting shaky, I can change the way I view things by changing my thoughts. It is easy to know this. It is more difficult to actually do this.

I also realized an interesting pattern to my symptoms that have my doctors baffled. My vertigo is nearly obsolete in the mornings, the time of day when I feel the most optimistic, the time of day that I love the best. My vertigo worsens around mid-day, and is particularly virulent when I am around others, especially those with strong energies. My vertigo is also particularly nauseating when I haven't meditated or otherwise grounded my spiritual practice. That was a hello for me. I have recently felt like a spiritual person hiding in the closet, waiting for the safe time to come out. I am afraid that what my body is craving is a grounded, active or admitted spiritual practice. For me, that practice would be based on spiritual freedom through meditation, connection with the god of my heart and a deep connection and study of the natural world. And yoga, lots of yoga. One of the principles of my spiritual beliefs is that I create the world I live in through my thoughts, my actions and my reactions to my thoughts and the actions and intentions of others. To live this truth is my challenge.

I am trying. During a rather rough bout of vertigo on Monday (yes, I still have vertigo, can you believe it?), I was having a healing session with my friend when she sent me a huge hello. People had been reminding me for the past month to laugh and find amusement and change the way I think about my situation. But it hadn't come through, I mean really come through, until Monday. Somehow, as my friend asked for the third time over Skype if I was going to hurl, I realized that I had no routine or time set aside for spiritual practice. I am an organizational person, and I realized that I had not set aside any time for meditation or journaling, an activity that works wonders for my well-being. Instead, I had just "hoped" to find the time. Well, no more hoping, now it's in the google calendar just like everything else.

Each morning, I start with time for yoga. To move my body and feel the subtleties within. This is followed by a time for meditation, 15 minutes to an hour, depending on what comes. Followed by journaling time. If nothing else, I want to focus on what areas in my life I've been taking too seriously and see how I can change my thought patterns to create amusement and allow energy to flow in a positive direction.

I did this yesterday, and although my vertigo was still rocking and rolling, I felt somehow much more calm to deal with it. Instead of worrying about how bad it could get and how long it could last, I remembered my meditative tools and remained calm, collected, and available to participate in my life, rather than fall victim to it.

Change verses growth

The only thing constant in life is change, and for some reason, we always seem to want to resist it. I admit to loving the comfort of a good, old routine, something that stays constant from one day to the next. But the reality is that this life is always changing, and we are either left to let life change us unexpectedly, or instead become active participants in our own lives and find personal growth to either match or spur life's changes.

I made a commitment today to a professional yoga teacher training program through YogaWorks. It was a big decision; a large commitment of time, energy, endurance and money. But I hardly thought twice. Lately, I've found so much joy in teaching and helping others, and the more I teach, the more I realize where my limits are as a teacher. I realized that if I want to continue down this path of teaching yoga, I must break down those limits so that I can grow as a yoga teacher, a yoga practitioner and as a person.

Recently, I have been resisting change. Change came along for me in the form of sore back muscles and vertigo, and yet I keep resisting. "I don't want this," I keep thinking, "I hate this. I want to get back to the way my life was before this." But that can't happen. Instead, I should be saying, "Wow! I wasn't paying attention to the change in front of me. I wasn't active in my growth to keep up. Now I have vertigo and a sore back. What are these things trying to tell me? What do they want me to learn?" I am confident that once I learn the lesson they're putting in front of me, I'll find growth and move past these hurdles.

So I asked my vertigo today, "What do you want? Why are you here?" And it said back to me, "I am here because you have been playing the victim and looking for love and companionship outside of yourself. You need to learn to truly love and accept yourself." Wow, so that wasn't heavy or anything. And hadn't I just admitted to a shopping addiction due to feeling unloved and lonely? I was looking outside myself for love, and if the addiction wasn't enough of a clue, now my body was acting up, too.

Of course, you could just say, "Well, vertigo is a medical thing, right? I mean, why are you 'talking' to it?" Because it's all energy. Energy causes joy as well as pain. A happy emotion can make you feel light as air, and a stressful emotion can cause you to feel heavy and tight until your shoulders are bound to your ears. It's all energy. And it's every changing.

So. I'm moving forward. But I'm also slowing down enough to take the time to listen to what my body has to tell me. What does your body have to tell you? Do you manifest your spiritual/energetic messages through your body like me, or do your electronics stop working and your car breaks down? Stop to find the message behind the mayhem, so that you can learn to grow with the change, rather than be a victim to it.

Working Energy

Life can be tough. We fall down, we get hurt, we feel sick, we feel low, we feel alone. But we keep on living. Because we hope that soon enough, we'll get back up, feel healed, be full of wellness, be on a natural high and surrounded with affectionate friends. Life can be tough, but it can also be so beautiful. And everything that we experience in life is simple: it's just energy.

I've still been experiencing vertigo, to varying degrees, the past few weeks. I've seen medical doctors, who are miffed that a healthy twenty-something year old can experience lasting vertigo. And although western medicine is great at diagnosing and fixing symptoms, it largely fails to look at the entire picture, and it fails further to look at the emotional, spiritual and energetic causes behind dis-ease. If you were to take a look at my aura, my space, you would be able to see exactly what is going on, because it's all energy.

I spent nearly the entire weekend in meditation at a gathering of clairvoyants. It was a workshop for us to come together, learn new skills, look at each other's spaces and have more time to work our own. I'd had a hard time looking at my own space, since every time I sat down to close my eyes, I felt like the earth was heaving underneath me. What I would have realized if I had stuck through the meditation, like I did this weekend, was when I can use the meditative tools I have to move energy through my body and my aura and start to reclaim my space, the vertigo dissipates and largely disappears.

It was an intense weekend, to be sure. Sitting in meditation, or trance, as some call it, for 15 hours is definitely a marathon of meditation and sure to both invigorate and tire the mind and body. As clairvoyants, we read and heal each other, and everyone who read me first said something along the lines of, "Wow. I can't believe you're having to deal with this energy. It's so strong. I'm so sorry. Find some amusement." Because as big and bad as energy can feel, it's just that--energy. Have you ever been in a room where you could almost cut the tension with a knife? And then some wonderful soul cracks a timely joke, the room fills with laughter, and the tension is gone? That's the importance of amusement for moving energy.

I always ask my yoga students at the beginning of class to check in and see if they brought their sense of humor, and if they've arrived ready to play. Yoga can be a great discipline to the mind and body, but just like any type of practice, it is largely dependent on how you set your energy, and energy that is serious (like that room we just talked about) doesn't move. So keeping your sense of amusement is very helpful in having a successful and joyful yoga practice.

Bottom line: when you're feeling blue, or when your yoga isn't moving in the direction you want it to, take a step back and find amusement in the situation. It's all just energy. Crack a joke at yourself, find something to laugh at. So if you need a joke, here's a slightly inappropriate one for you to mull over (inappropriate can always make you smile) -- you should never take life to seriously -- no one gets out alive, anyway.

Living on a ship

It's been a long time since I've written, and for a few reasons. First, I was on vacation. Yay, vacation! I couldn't mention it here, since it was a surprise for half of my family, so I snuck away one Sunday night and met my family at the Salt Lake City airport Monday morning and we flew to Cancun. Our final destination was Playa del Carmen, and we spent week in the sun (and the wind), sitting by the ocean, eating tacos, drinking margaritas, and shopping in town. Our good friends live there, and they showed us around. It was fabulous.

I did do some yoga. But sometime between leaving Salt Lake and landing in Cancun, I acquired a case of vertigo, just severe enough to be extremely annoying and nauseating. Yoga, and the movement of up and down, up and down, didn't help much, so I only practiced twice while in Playa. The vertigo is still around today, and my doctor found fluid in my ear and quite a nasty sinus infection, to which I was unaware, as the culprit. We hope. It could also be an inner ear problem, and we won't know that until I've taken the antibiotics for a few days. So until something gets fixed, I'll just keep hanging on to the railing of this pitching ship that I seem to be on.

But even though I can't practice daily, yoga is still the calm place in my life that brings energy and spark into my body and mind. I am still teaching my regular classes (do not be alarmed if I grab the wall suddenly) and each class still leaves me with peace of mind and the dynamic between inner stillness and deep excitement that feeds me more deeply than the best food in the world.

Today, I'm going back to my roots to work on a primary series practice in my yard. I'm hoping that if I'm outside, I won't have such reaction to the vertigo. We'll see. I'm also just excited to be practicing in the yard, which is almost done! A few more hours of work this weekend and we'll be able to start weekend classes outside!

Namaste.

The Cusp

I feel like I'm standing out over a ledge and looking at the bottom of a steep, deep canyon below. The canyon represents where I need to be to be grounded and at peace with myself, and it's a long way down. I know that I have to get there to be at peace -- to have the proper love and respect for myself and others, even to feed and clothe myself properly, and to start to actually live my truth -- but I'm not ready to make the leap. Not yet.

I'm still reading Rolf Gates' Meditations From the Mat, and in the last few passages, he's really asked the reader, in this case me, to look at my addictions, my attachments, to where I hoard and where I'm looking outside for answers rather than inside. I know exactly where these things are in my life, and the simple truth is that, right now, I'm just too scared to let them go. To begin to let them go would unravel the safety net I've created and to face my underlying sadness, fear and failings. My life would change dramatically. I'm not sure I want it to.

I've realized lately that there are parts of my life that are lacking. Decisions I made in the past --which I believed were the right ones at the time -- have put me in a position of dependence, which I despise. They've also put me in a position as second best, number two, or the afterthought, which I also despise. This situation has left me feeling empty, unconfident and lonely. I'm filling this loneliness by consuming things, particularly pretty dresses and jewelry and other clothes to help me feel as fabulous as I once did as an independent woman in clogs and sweatshirts.

I realize this addiction, but honestly, I'm not ready to give it up. I'm not ready to stop the automatic mechanism that tells me it's okay to feel better, and that I'll feel better if I look awesome and throw around some attitude. It's not right, it's not honest, and it's really starting to eat at me.

My yoga asana practice and the hours of stillness it creates for me afterwards are the only moments in which I feel at peace by myself. I used to feel at peace with myself easily. I want to face this filler I have, this compulsion to look outside myself for answers, this addiction, but not yet. I'm not ready to make the leap into the canyon. I hope to, but not yet. Until then, I'll wait on the cusp of the path to my self-realization. And I'll keep practicing.