Friday Moonday.

“Thoreau died in 1862.  When a friend asked him on his deathbed if he had made his peace with God, he responded, more like a Zen master than a Transcendentalist, that he was not aware they had quarreled.”

1865 John Wiess said of Thoreau
“His countenance had not a line upon it expressive of ambition or discontent; the affectional emotions had not fretted at it.  He went about like a priest of Buddha who expects to arrive soon at the summit of a life of contemplation.”


All these practices to create space, to cultivate the inner field of consciousness.  Developing the ability to see the self in the moment, this is why I sat down today.  I sat and listened to Sarah Powers.  When I sit like this I hear one of the voices inside saying that i should be doing some more challenging type of meditation.  Now, I am able to meet theses voices inside with awareness of their prescience, compassion, and no desire to make them stop. I have learned how to smile and love myself.  At the last retreat with Tenzin Thuman he said “First step on the path to realizing your potential... Learning to love yourself in a really special way.”  How much space is there in that! Not first step to enlightenment just the first step to seeing possibility.  This is mostly all I need, just a step. A point in the direction of seeing through the shit and happening upon the little ray of sunshine as it peeks over the top of the mountain, you get a glimpse that there is infact a path.

I love “summit of a life of contemplation”  again let off the hook of having to know anything.  That this life is contemplation, that I don’t have to come to any conclusions, I can just be curious.  That reading, sitting, asana, yamas & niyamas, they can all lead to a greater desire to understand.  That a personal belief system can be fluid.  

As I continue to observe what happens when I try to cultivate the place inside to hold death I am inspired by so many lives.  To look at how others have lived in their pursuit to understand what this life is, to live and die in the lucid way Sarah talks about.  I look for my Walden Pond in Brooklyn.  In this space shared with so many.  Constantly negotiating with masses of people and seeing how I can best show up for these sentient beings.  I admit it escapes me most of the time, how to look after oneself and hold space of others to see themselves and grow.  But I do see some hope and I have learned better how to take mindful breaths and check with my inside world when things in the outside world seem to be going crazy.  To take some time and see the inner climate and motivations before I take action.  Some freedom is there.

“Depend upon it that, rude and careless as I am, I would fain practice the yoga faithfully,” he (Thoreau) wrote H.G.O. Blake in 1849. “To some extent, and at rare intervals, even I am a yogi.”



All quotes taken from “How the Swans Came to the Lake”.

If I’m butter then he’s a hot knife…

Sometimes writing should be about nothing.  Sometimes life is about nothing, maybe it should be more about butterflies and less about lies.  What if I never left the naked hippie house on the Able Tasman Sea?  What if I had stayed with that boy who was certainly gay?  Perhaps more writing would have been about Eddie who always wore a belt only.  Maybe I would have continued to eat my weight in avocados and dance down the dirt road to our house with a glass of wine.  They tried to tell me that the emergency break was a part of driving, I went 3 months with out ever putting on shoes and we always picked up the hitchhikers. Made balloon toys and sold them at the market to buy food the food we would eat at the dinner where we laughed so hard my stomach hurt with joy.  There were 5 of us in that house and I never forget a moment of it. I was a hitchhiker on the North Island, rode 4 hours with a sheep sheerer down to Auckland.  If I had speakers right now hey would be all the way up screaming “WAKE ME UP”, I may need a chaperone.  Some things give me flight, so many people here seem to be a flight doing what they love.  Should only the artists who make millions be permitted to paint all day? How important is passion?  What happens when the passion of the heart dies long before the physical body?  A question I hope never to experience the answer.

“Take me to Coney Island take me on a train.”

Now I will spend my winter at the Village Zendo instead of South India.  I can not imagine the new challenges the new changes.  A front row seat for death.  I may write a book after this one.

Happy Moonday everybody.

The photo was our shower at the dancing avocado house of love...

Happy Birthday!

A year ago today I was in Calcutta and had the most amazing birthday with new friends and one phone call that I thought might make my heart burst. I knew life was full of possibility. This morning I look around my beautiful apt, windows opening and some possibility seems to be blowing in again. My friend sent me timeshel by mumford & sons for my birthday, so this is playing in the background , Calgary is here too.

I put an extra teaspoon of honey in my tea just now, and I will wear my Channel lip gloss today.

I have always loved birthdays, mine and everyone else’s. This year I was a bit quiet but usually for the weeks leading up to it I can’t talk about much else. My funk seems to have lifted this morning. It’s hard to be in a funk with so many amazing people around loving me.

Just finished my coconut water and breakfast with an amazing friend is soon. There is a tremendous amount of possibilities for today, tomorrow as well.

This is a teeny tiny blog but I just wanted to share my morning with everyone since everyone shares so much with me.

More tea please, more of this amazing life.

Thank you.

40 hours

It’s been about 20 days that I have been here, now, this time. It’s been about 7 hours since my last asana practice. It took somewhere over 40 hours to get back here from Mysore. Now I think maybe 40 is better then 24. Perhaps the total waste I felt gave some gravity to the situation, to the truth of the length of the destination.

This Ted talk said if you want to change your life you have to tell the truth. To stop saying you are fine all the time. I say I am fine all the time, especially when I am not. I don’t like to bother or burden or give too much of myself to the negative. I see now that this is not the way forward. Not only can no one help you but they can not know you either. I saw this with my family and yoga. Giving them vague answers to questions so I would not bore them with the details, except that the details were me. By not sharing I held myself away, then I stopped. They have now stopped asking why I go to Mysore so much, they understand it, as to say they understand me. We love better now. There are many places to go with this but it is late, feels sometimes too late.

Maybe we can love better now.

Saying what is really happening forces me look at my situation clearly, many times a day. I can see how this brings change, I don’t want to keep saying the same shit for the next five years. If I say that I am fine I never have to hear the truth either.

In three days on the 23 I turn 32. First time my birthday has ever felt like this, like I have missed the mark on something. It is very much not a husband kids thing, this has never been a measuring stick of mine.

There is the most amazing breeze coming in my window right now.

My friend and I sat at the park today and talked about balance. About the discipline of practice and keeping life limber as well.

For 9 years I was vegetarian and one time for one year I was vegan this resulted in an extra 7 pounds. Now I am a dietary independent. Now I eat whatever I want. Some flexibility has come from all this asana after all.

So much love.

I believe her smile when she gives it to me. We step past each other and our eyes meet, we let each other in. For once I am not scanned up and down for whatever about me is offending that day. Sometimes here it feels as though I am offending them every minute of everyday. I could explain that having your middle area exposed would be offensive in my culture, but they have not come to my country.

It’s a sunny about 85 degree afternoon in what is said to be the coldest winter in 17 years. I have been up since 3 this morning and it is taking all the arm strength I have left to type. I have never known this kind if burn. I have been assisting in the Shala for 3 weeks now and it gets better everyday. Another guy got booted today, beginners are supposed to be with Saraswati down the road but everyone thinks they know Ashtanga Yoga. One girl yesterday attempted to take the first pose of second with out being given it and as if this were not bad enough she then could not stand up from a backbend. With Sharath standing over her she looked pretty frightened as he said, “Who is your teacher? (no response) who taught you second without backbends? (again no response) Who is your teacher?!? (I will not repeat the name). I keep meaning to count how many students are in the room at one time but always forget, did count how many sputa kurmasana adjustments I gave today, about 30. During the 9:30-11:30/12 time there is Sharath, Saraswati, 4 other assistants and myself. Yesterday we got sweets “for all your hard work today” he says, I smile. It is so amazing to teach along side of the Guru of the tradition, his is the only opinion that matters. There is no wondering what is correct or debating the best way, only standing firmly connected to roots of the tradition I grew up in/am growing up in. The tradition I now have the blessing to teach. After I finish in the shala I can barely hold my bottle of water to my mouth. I have never been one to stand with my hands on my hips but do it all the time now as they cannot hold themselves. I still can not believe that I get to be a part of someone’s Mysore experience, that I get to stand next to my Guru as we both drop people back, crazy.

My back is doing so much better, I spend at least 3 hours a day doing rehab. And just today, only 6 weeks in, found a better way to sit as I wait to be called into the Shala. Speaking of the waiting room, I have the most fantastic group that I wait with. So many kind smiling faces, people I am happy to get to spend a few moments with so early in the morning. We all wait our turn, entering in the order we arrived. It very much feels like we are in it together.

This is all for now I must go get dressed as we are going to check the timings at the cinema for the weekend. Then to the park to hang up side down for some time. Then to the internet to send this to you. x

writing after 3 green tea lattes.

Most Sundays here Sharath holds conference. He will talk a bit as we listen and laugh then there is a time for questions. Beware if you ask a question though, you may get more then you wanted back. He might explain why we do so many asanas “1^st practice asana to stabilize body and mind. Without this how can yoga happen? For that (yoga) you need to discipline this body and mind.”

We take asana so yoga can happen, Sharath says. It reminds me of something I read perhaps in Shadows on the path “you can use a stick to point at the moon but don’t confuse the stick with the moon.” For me asana is very much the stick. I genuinely do not give a shit what someone who sees my practice thinks. First they must not be minding their dristi and second it’s the stick, for real people.

I take asana so that I can see my shit more clearly, in that book he (abdi assadi) says one of my very favorite things “you can not clean your face by splashing water at the mirror”. I sit still so I can observe what is happening inside so I don’t get confused and blame those around me for my crazy. When the asana talk becomes too much I have to sit and observe what about this steals my om shanti and how I can have more compassion (first for myself then for others). I work hard, I am not lazy and would be very disappointed if the whole reason that I stand on my head is to be able to stand on my head.

I believe that through the asana practice I am cultivating equanimity. That a sign this asana practice is changing me is that as I am able to do things I was not before there is no disturbance inside. It’s abiding in the deep-rooted joy, the knowing we all have a buddha nature. I give my very best to the practice but believe that would be of little value if I were not giving my best at seeing child who needs love in every person I stand in front of. Also the one inside me.

If you do not take practice it is hard to explain how asana brings about these changes, it is an experiential understanding. “Asana is the foundation of spiritual building” Sharath tells us. You need “devotion, dedication, discipline, determination”.

Last Week

As far as weeks go this has been a pretty eventful one. There was one years back that may have been as good but outside of that there is only this.

Last Saturday I went in for my first ever MRI, a loud and strange 40 min. Went and had a few coconuts then back for the films, 5 films and I got them all. They gave me a paper with the results and one doctor explained a bit to me. I thought there was some sort of problem between L4 and L5, and there it was on film the disc is out to the left pressing up against the nerve root. This would explain perhaps why putting my left leg behind my head sends electricity up the spine. Some pain is there in most poses but with full awareness I have signed up for what it has to teach me. Some friends have been very helpful sharing wisdom of how to work more intelligently in the body. I am learning many new things about myself, more softness is there.

Then came Sunday when Sharath gave me the application for authorization. I looked at Lauren with a bit of wonderment. I could see we both were wondering, if this was the type of application that can get rejected or that by receiving it you are accepted kind. I filled it out and took it back to him and he printed out another sheet of paper that assured me I was in. Lauren said, “you can totally cry now” so I sat down on the steps of the shala and had a moment. For those of you unfamiliar with traditional Ashtanga this is not at all the sort of paper you get after a one-month “teacher training”. It is really very very different, but that is all I will say about that.

On Tuesday Sharath said that I could assist in the shala next year, as there are already too many people here who have not got to yet. I said I was very happy to do it next year. Then he said my certificate would be ready Thursday afternoon.

Thursday morning when I had taken my spot and was about to begin my practice he came over to my mat and said to come back at 9:30 and assist, “today” I said “today” he said. My practice was a bit scattered really then I quickly poked out for a coco and back in at 9:30 for the scariest 2 hours of teaching in my life.

Friday was the led class and everyone kept giving my hugs. I saw so many friends that day and I think they were all as excited as I was/am.

There is one thing on the certificate that stands out for me. Around the middle of the page it says, “I authorize my student” then my name then his signature.