Namaste: A Journey From Resentment To Relief April 21, 2013

Namaste.

I honor you. All of you.

The good and the bad.
The light and the dark.
The divine and the human.

I honor every part of you.

The parts that doubt.
The parts that feel certain.
The parts that don’t know.

The parts that leave.
The parts that stay.
The parts that hide.

I honor the whole you.

The you that stumbles.
The you that falls.
The you that rises…and falls again.

The you that gracefully balances.
The you that is rooted.
The you that is buoyant.

I honor you.

The you that is hurting.
The you that harms.
The you that grows.

The you that loves.
The you that can’t.
The you that will.

I bow to you. I bow to you. I bow to YOU.

*  *  *

My first yoga teacher used to tell us, “I’m just an old junkie, passing on what helped me change. Sat Nam.”

With a strong Kundalini practice and immersion in American Sikh communities for the first 10 years of my yoga journey, “Sat Nam” became an everyday greeting. Whether I said it silently or out loud, I reverently offered this prayer to my friends, to my co-workers, to strangers. “Sat Nam: I honor your truth.”

As with the Native American, Yoruban, Jewish and other spiritual perspectives that started shaping my view of myself and others in the early 90s, I embraced the inclusive nature of “Sat Nam.” When someone pressed their palms into prayer position at their heart, and said, “I honor your truth,” I felt genuine and total acceptance.

When I started practicing Vinyasa style yoga in about 2001, I heard a new greeting. Teachers would end class saying, “Namaste: the light in me bows to the light in you.” Or, “Namaste: the divine in me bows to the divine in you.” Or, “Namaste: I bow to all that is good and light and divine in you.”

Ick.

Sorry, but that was my first reaction! “Ick.” What about the imperfect, the dark, the messily human parts of me? If you know even a little of my story (and you might guess some of it, based on my respect for and admiration of my first yoga teacher), you know that those very non-good, non-light and non-divine parts ruled my world for a good long time. I also grew to understand, accept, appreciate and deeply love those parts after yoga came into my life in the 90s, and I started growing toward a healthier balance.

Yoga continued to be a huge part of my life; and I started to feel defensive at the end of classes, when teachers pressed their palms into prayer mudra at their heart and – with all the best intentions – bowed to the light in me. Sadly, I grew to resent this highfalutin’ “Namaste.”

*  *  *

After 15 years of yoga practice, I decided to become an instructor. I chose the residential Integral Yoga Teacher Training at Satchidananda Ashram in Virginia. At the IYTT, we ended classes (and meetings, texts and e-mails!) with “OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.” I didn’t notice at the time, but am now realizing that I did not hear one single “Namaste” during the four weeks. As the days passed, our immersion in the Yoga Sutras and the Eight Limbs nourished my craving for a sustainable inner peace – and, my yearning to share yoga’s tools for cultivating that peace. I became very comfortable ending classes with “OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti: Peace, Peace, Peace.”

Then came the dilemma. Teaching at studios in DC, I would end sessions with “OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti,” and some students would bow and answer “Namaste.” Ack! Did these students think that I didn’t appreciate their light? Mama mia. Quickly, I had to let go of that worry and continue to believe in my choice to simply wish my students peace.

*  *  *

Over recent years, I started hearing different definitions of “Namaste.”

In 2011, I attended a yoga workshop with Max Strom. He both greeted us with and explained “Namaste.” “I bow to you,” he said, firmly. “That’s all it means. If you go to India, you will be greeted the same way by everyone, whether saying good morning at a temple, or, buying a drink at a tea shop.”

In 2012, one of our summer camp teaching assistants was from Nepal. He told me that in his Hindu culture, “Namaste” (or “Namaskar”) is a basic greeting. As common as “Hello,” and as meaningful as “I honor you.”

Earlier this spring, 2013, at the Shiva Navaratri ceremony I attended, the Hindu priests would periodically invite devotees to take some “Namaskaram.” I saw people doing prostrations, offering themselves in deep bows and lowering themselves to the ground. With this visual illustration, I finally understood that Namaskar is the most humble way to show respect, honor, gratitude. (It also redefined my own practice and teaching of Surya Namaskaram, or, Sun Salutations.)

Quite recently, I noticed a residual jolt of resentment when someone offered a bow to the divine in me. I’ll admit it – I needed academic validation that “Namaste” is inclusive of our entire being. I asked a Sanskrit expert for the literal translation. His response: namas = I bow/ honor/salute; te = to you. “I bow to you.” “I honor you.” “Salutations to you.” It is a reverential expression of greeting and/or thanks. Used as hello, goodbye, and thank you.

What a relief!  No matter what other teachers say, I can finally focus on the true meaning of the greeting when I hear it.  I can feel the essence of unqualified acceptance.

*  *  *

I’ve chosen to continue closing my classes with my IY-influenced “OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti…Peace, Peace, Peace.” But for the month of April, I have been experimenting. Replacing “OM Shanti” with “Namaste.” And I have to admit, it still feels very uncomfortable. Because I know students have heard other teachers share their adapted definitions of the greeting. And I don’t want them to think that I only honor the good, the light, the divine. I want them to know that I deeply bow to every single part.

From this, the above poem evolved.

I will always remember and yearn for the humility of my first yoga teacher. That old junkie, just sharing what changed him. So whether I offer “Namaste,” “Sat Nam,” “OM Shanti,” “Yo, wha’s up?” “Hi!” or even a silent smile, I offer my greeting with 100% honor for the whole of you.

*  *  *

I still wonder: What influenced the new “Namaste?” Where did the good/light/divine skew come from? Why would millions of yogis – in the studios and the trainings and the magazines and the videos – want to stray so far from the real thing?

Well…that’s another can of worms, for a different writer to tackle!

OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.

Wild Is The Wind: A Story Of Heartbreak, And True Love April 19, 2013

Love me, love me, love me – say you do.
Let me fly away with you.
For our love is like the wind.
And wild is the wind.
Give me more than one caress.
Satisfy this hungriness.
Let the wind blow through your heart.
For wild is the wind.
You touch me – I hear the sound of mandolins.
You kiss me – with your kiss, my life begins.
You’re spring to me, all things to me.
(Hmmm…)
Don’t you know you’re life itself?
Like a leaf clings to a tree,
Oh my darling, cling to me.
For we’re creatures of the wind.
And wild is the wind…so wild is the wind.
(“Wild Is The Wind” ~ arranged/performed by Nina Simone)

* * *

I used to think I’d sing this song at my wedding.

Decades ago, when I first heard “Wild Is The Wind,” I believed that true love should feel wild. That together, my lover and I would feel a devotion as natural and sweeping and consuming as the wind.

These days, I’m not so sure about that formula for partnership. And, two painfully broken engagements, a few messy breakups and one recent heartbreak later, I’m not sure there will ever be a wedding to sing at.

But I am sure of this – true love IS a devotion as natural and sweeping and consuming as the wind.

* * *

This week was a doozy. The world watched bombs and victims and heroes and villains. In the midst of that tragedy, I lost a love to the truth.

We knew each other in high school. Twenty years later, we landed in jury duty together. We dated off and on for the next 11 years, with gaps in between of one, two, even six years. Each phase ended the same way – him saying that he just can’t settle down, and me saying goodbye…until the next time we were drawn together again.

Talk about wild.

Deep in my heart, I wished, “Some day…” Some day he’ll have a change of heart; and I’ll sing “Wild Is The Wind” at our wedding.

Actually…nope. Not gonna happen.

Without getting into the details or timeline or psychology of it all (I’m sure you’ll make your own assumptions and draw your own conclusions), let’s just say – it’s over. Earlier this week, he told me that he is unavailable on more than one level. He told me some truths that hurt deeply. He told me, once and for all, that he can never see me again.

I sense that this time around, it’s really over. Because after all these years, I am finally growing to want what’s best for me, and, I have finally gained the tools to accept the truth and move on. This week, I listened deeply; I thanked him for his honesty; and I said goodbye.

But my heart is still feeling a bit ouchy. I’ve lost a friend. I’ve lost a lover. I’ve lost a magical story. But y’know what? It’s time to let go.

* * *

Today, quite by chance, I heard “Wild Is The Wind.” During deep relaxation, at the end of a much-needed energizing and strengthening yoga class. A class that relieved my mind of the week’s challenges, and fueled me for a productive and present afternoon.

Then I heard those first beautifully ominous notes of the song, and knew I was in for a good cry.

Love me, love me, love me – say you do.

I exhaled a silent sob. Because he can’t. He can’t love me.

Give me more than one caress.

This line made me a little squirmy. But I continued to let the tears flow as the music washed over me.

Satisfy this hungriness.

And all of the sudden it hit me – no human being could ever satisfy my hungriness.

Shiva popped into my mind. I know this might seem goofy, but I sometimes dedicate popular love songs to god instead of a man, a dream, a wish. And who better than Shiva, who has accompanied my journey through a million births, lives and deaths over the past 47 years?

You kiss me – and with your kiss, my life begins.

My silent sobs were replaced with soft smiles.

You’re spring to me, all things to me. Don’t you know you’re life itself?

A resounding “yes” struck my heart.

I continued to happily embrace and breathe in the life force behind our eternal cycle of time, the prana of life itself. The renewing power of Shiva.

After resting, I rose up, reborn. I walked out into a particularly breezy day.

Let the wind blow through your heart.

Today I heard “Wild Is The Wind” with fresh ears. I heard it as a song about the deepest devotion that exists. The purest Bhakti Yoga in my heart. The true love between my higher power and me.

OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.

Out Like A Lamb April 1, 2013

Photo: Darrow Montgomery (by permission)

By its nature, Spring brings sudden and intense change.  In my March yoga practice and classes, I like to focus on transition and balance on the mat, often taking the 75 minutes to bloom from an earthy Tadasana (reclining on the back in Mountain Pose), into mindfully flowing, heating sequences, and then peaking with an uplifted Nataraja (Dancer Pose).  I emphasize how many breaths, steps, tiny movements and gradual transitions it requires to grow from lying on our backs, to gracefully lifting our hearts while balancing on one foot!

And this is life off the mat, as well.

We rise up, we take a step.  We wobble, we fall.  We flow, we breathe.  We balance, we sway.  We take one step forward and two steps back.  We awaken.  We move forward again.  We bloom…we lift our hearts…and…we wobble some more.

*  *  *

I tried with all my well-intentioned heart to allow myself some “chill time” yesterday morning.  Friday night before bed, I gave myself permission to sleep in, and then lazily listen to NPR all day.  When I woke up, I did the minimum morning Sadhana – my eye-opening prayers (at around 10am!); but then went directly to the radio and turned on “Car Talk.”  I thought that laughter might be an enjoyable continuation of my relaxed awakening…that cultivating some free-spirited silliness would be an appropriate manifestation of my new freedom from a tendency toward rigid plans and decisions.

However.

The longer I listened to “Click and Clack,” with their truly hilarious banter, the more I became tense and aggravated.  After 30 minutes of the show, I chose radio silence – I opened the windows to fresh Spring air and sounds, lit a candle and a stick of incense, sat for Pranayama, stayed still for meditation, and centered with Shiva chants.

Afterward, I had no desire for radio comedy.  Since pausing, I yearned to continue aligning with my intuition.  To tune in with that presence.  To arise, awaken, sense, breathe and be.

Thanks to the radio’s helpful annoyance, I awakened to my true needs and changed directions.  Despite my best intentions to allow some harmless, unstructured time, I still structured it!  Before I went to bed, I made a plan!  And, that plan did not allow for true openness; and, it did not include the fail-safe and simple 30-minute preamble of Sadhana – mindful morning practices that set the tone for intuition, and, insure avoidance of tension and aggravation.  But it’s all good.  As I said, thankfully I paid attention to the discomfort; and I rewound.  We can start the day over at any time, y’know.

Planning to be present is still planning; and being present sometimes requires a change of plans.

*  *  *

Speaking of change.

For years, since my Fall 2008 Yoga Teacher Training, I have practiced a specific breathing affirmation meditation, suggested by one of the YTT staff.  I sought this Swami’s advice because I was really suffering within my soul throughout the training.  Daily, I was negatively triggered by the dynamics in our large and eclectic group of future Yoga Teachers.  I believe there were about 30 of us, between the ages of 25 and 70, with a wide range of motivations and personalities.  YTTs in general can be a shaky venue for any individual – there is so much vulnerability, passion, excitement, judgment (both of self and of/from others), clique-iness, button pushing, fear and love.  All of this among a bunch of people who may or may not become your trusted friends after journeying together.  For me, YTT was a hot bed of painful family dynamic memories, which led to self-loathing and perceived threats.  I though I might quit, and/or drive myself into a tree, and/or go drinking.  Not good for someone with 6 years of recovery from addiction.  Clearly, I was being seriously triggered into PTSD.

When I confided in the Swami, she gave me the following practice: During all of our meditations (two to three 30-minutes sessions per day), I was to do the nerve-balancing alternate nostril breathing (Nadi Suddhi Pranayama), silently saying “My true nature is peace” on the inhale, and “Nothing can disturb my peace” on the exhale.  And it worked.  That practice helped me stick around, stay alive and keep sober.  To this day, it has the same effect.

It was tough work at first, to pretty much force out unreasonable, trigger-based fears with this devoted practice.  The affirmation basically elbowed the negative stories out of my mind so I could be present and thrive.  Ah, the power of replacing negative thoughts with positive beliefs!  Pratipaksha Bhavana, indeed.

As I always tell students, cultivating positive affirmations and intentions neither erases nor stuffs the very real and valid challenges we face.   For me, the practices of using Pratipaksha Bhavana or setting Sankalpa allow me to address the situation with more peace and strength.  In addition, these practices give me a little break from the very powerful negative mind sets and fears I can encounter as a trauma survivor; and, in that little break, I can clearly see what part of my past might need additional examination and processing.

Like the discomfort of listening to “Car Talk” yesterday, even larger triggers are helpful information.  They guide me to revisit and heal my family history and personal resentments through yoga, therapy and 12-Step recovery program work.  Since my 2008 YTT, I’ve attended many additional trainings and have not been triggered.

Which leads me back to that mention of “change,” at the top of this section.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that – without deliberately trying – I’d switched around my 5-year breathing affirmation practice.  Totally organically, I’d started silently repeating “Nothing can disturb my peace” on the inhale, and “My true nature is peace” on the exhale.  It’s as if, after much intention toward living Ahimsa (avoidance of violence) in my everyday life, it finally, naturally, sunk in.  By inwardly affirming and strengthening the peace, I am outwardly sharing it more and more consistently.

I hope and aim to continue cultivating peace, both within and around me.  At the same time, I know from experience that, as long as I am human (!), times of discomfort, aggravation and even violence will arise – and, those times will hold valuable information, which will shed light on opportunities for ongoing healing, growth and change.

*  *  *

Since my March 6th “In Like A Lion” post, I’ve enjoyed an amazing month.  Spring is bursting with positive, renewing momentum.

Last week, I gave up teaching all but two of my studio-based yoga classes, for a few reasons.  First, since the winter holidays, I’d been considering resigning from the studio where I taught most of my classes; and I finally came clear on that decision.  Second, for a number of reasons, I wanted to focus my energy toward the studio where I still lead my two classes.  Third, I realized that, as long as I gained income from my numerous studio classes, I would continue fooling myself to believe that teaching yoga supports my financial responsibilities – and it does not.  Fourth, with more time and less income, my search for full-time work has a new spark beneath it!  Fifth and finally, the fewer studio classes I teach, the more community and Seva classes I can offer.

Letting go of my attachment to being some kind of “important” studio-based yoga teacher brought a welcome humbling.  Now there’s more room in my heart and my ego to be of service.  In fact, since resigning from the studio where I taught most of my classes and workshops, I drew up a plan for incubating my long-envisioned Urban Yoga Den/Ahimsa Now non-profit project idea.

The refreshing energy of Spring has also inspired me to evaluate and get honest about my relationships.  My resentment list is way too long for my conscience and some healing work is in order.  In addiction recovery programs, when we have a resentment, we are certain to look at our potential responsibility in the offending situation.  Another humbling exercise!  This process can reveal that we are accountable for part of the problem, and that we need to admit our wrongs; on the other hand, it can also reveal that the problem was the relationship itself, and that it might be time to address issues, or, let go.

Under the energy of our last Full Moon, I wrote a list of people to whom I owe apologies and amends, and with whom I hope for reconciliation.  Skilled and loving communication will be key as I approach people.  And because there is more consistent peace in my heart, despite feeling a little nervous, I am looking forward to reaching out and seeing what some earnest efforts will yield.

The second half of March has been about connecting.  I am now rehearsing and performing regularly with a sweet little trio, in which we re-imagine known songs as new arrangements.  The work challenges and pushes me in all of the right ways – creatively, collaboratively and personally.  I have also enjoyed road trips and reunions with some yoga teacher colleagues – clearly, this is a new day and age for me, when I can celebrate the trusted friendships cultivated at Yoga Teacher Trainings!

With this week’s Passover and Easter celebrations, I have been reflecting deeply about faith, humility, gratitude and service.  I am looking back at this month of weeding the garden, tilling the soil, planting new seeds and cultivating new growth.  And I feel a gentle yet firm tug at my heart, coaxing me onward and upward.

*  *  *

Oh, Spring -
You have been sweet to me this year.
You relieved me of a wobbly winter
and delivered me to your balancing blooms.
You have replaced losses with dreams and visions,
isolation with love,
pain with peace.

Spring -
You are abundant and generous,
as I aim to be.
Show me how I can serve you -
and every season -
in thanks.

Thanks for reading.  OM Shanti.  h*

Jumping Off Of Bridges March 25, 2013

Five years ago this month, I was scheduled to jump off the Ben Franklin Bridge.  I wrote it on my calendar for March 7, 2008: “Philly.”  I was planning to drive from DC to see the Irish band Hothouse Flowers, get drunk, and then jump.

That February, my fiancé had broken up with me – with no notice, with little explanation, and without ever speaking to me again.

I was devastated.  This was the one.  This was the relationship that erased all of my past failures and illustrated all of my current accomplishments.  This relationship proved that I was beyond a painful history with men, and moving forward with a healed soul.  This relationship gave me everything I dreamed of: a wonderful man, two amazing step sons, an awesome dog and cat, and a happy household.  I hadn’t recognized that, beneath this perfect picture, my partner was harboring his own past relationship resentments, a dark and debilitating depression…and a deep longing to escape.

My heart was smashed with his phone call.  The pain of the loss was unbearable.  So I decided to kill myself.

*  *  *

By March 2008, I’d survived multiple suicide attempts throughout my troubled life.  In fact, I’d spent most of the first 37 years of my life wishing or trying to die.

It seemed meant to be.  I was unplanned – conceived after my mother had a tubal ligation!  I once heard my parents fighting about money problems – saying that if I hadn’t have been born, they would be better off.  I developed a deep feeling of being an unwanted problem.

(When I write truthfully about my family, I always have to add: I love and respect my parents, and I love and respect my family.  I understand that we all suffered – even way before I was born.  The ancestry of pain leaves a tough road to travel.  We do our best.)

As a kid, my first suicide attempt was trying to smother myself with a pillow when my beloved Aunt Jeannie died from Cirrhosis of the liver.  Much of my family suffered from alcoholism and its related violence and neglect.  Despite this, Aunt Jeannie consistently showered me with attention, affection and adoration.  She would swoop in for visits, in all of her New York City glamour and flair, bringing gifts and hugs and kisses.  She was a star to me.  When she died, I wanted to die.  I didn’t know that it’s impossible to smother ones self.  I passed out from crying and took a long nap.

From there forward, I thrived on recklessness.  When I was 17, deep depression felt like a mid-life crisis; and I believed I would be dead by 34.  As I got older, I essentially divorced from my family.  I raised myself, nurtured self-destructive tendencies and geared straight toward danger.  I experienced sexual molestation from community members, rape by a friend’s brother, beatings by strangers and boyfriends, and more.  Other dangers included driving maniacally.  I once landed in a life-risking crash – after which I felt very angry to still be alive.

My next deliberate suicide attempts were as an adult, when I hit an emotional, physical and spiritual bottom while living in New Orleans.  In those days, I was convinced that everyone around me was achieving their dreams, while I was at a dead end.  My “romantic” relationships were abusive and empty, my professional life was non-linear and grasping, my connection to god was willfully severed.  After quitting a retail job, I spent my mornings, days and nights drinking and hooking up with strangers and street musicians.  I used my parents’ gas station credit card to buy booze and food.   And my worried and enabling dad paid my rent (bless his un-knowing heart).  My reality was shameful and sad, and it sickened me.  I saw no other way through, than to get out.  Within one week, I tried to kill myself twice, using different mixtures of alcohol and substances.  I woke up dazed both times.  And again, I was very angry to be alive.

After that week, it appeared that I was not meant to die.  (Yet.)  So I ruefully resigned to keep living.  Over the next decade, despite desperate, in-vain attempts to figure out how to decrease life’s pain…despite becoming a vegetarian, seeing therapists, moving all over the country, observing religious ritual, and even trying yoga, I would drink myself to oblivion countless times.

In fact, all along my life timeline, the most pervasive and slow suicide effort was my succumbing to addiction.  I drank alcoholically from age 11.  For the next 25 years, I would deaden myself to emotions, to growth, to the world.

However, despite what looked like a road to ruin, my journey took a transformational turn after I turned 37, in 2002.

*  *  *

Also by March 2008, I had finally enjoyed a sweet, 5-year phase of contentment and joy.  I had been working a strong program of addiction recovery and was 5+ years sober.  I’d been seeing a very effective therapist for those years, and was healing from my traumatic childhood and destructive adulthood.  Plus, although I started while still drinking alcoholically, I’d been practicing yoga for 15 years, and was feeling it gradually shape my emotions, my growth and my world.

So, when the February breakup happened, I was blindsided and felt betrayed – not just by my fiancé, but by life itself.  After so much transformational work, this crap would still happen?  Well, yes.  It would.  And I could not accept that.  So the March 7^th Philly trip was planned.

Yet clearly, I did not jump off the Ben Franklin Bridge.  What happened?  Yoga, recovery and therapy – my power trio – gratefully intervened.

The addiction recovery program taught me to be rigorously honest.  Right after the breakup, I showed up at meetings, blurted out my pain and cried myself into a puddle on the floor.  I spoke about not being able to eat.  Recovery friends came to my house with irresistible Thai lemongrass soup.  I spoke about feeling betrayed by god and feeling that I would die from the pain of loss.  Recovery friends listened intently and sensed that I was at risk.

Knowing that I was planning to go see Hothouse Flowers in Philly – and that my ex and I had taken our 1^st road trip together to see that band in that city – a recovery friend invited me to go to a Brazilian Dance class at a yoga studio with her on March 7^th.   OK, she didn’t just “invite” me – she pretty much forced me.  Up to that night, I had primarily been practicing yoga on my own at home for a few years.  Being back in a mindful, intentional space felt healing to me.  I bought a class pass and started showing up for (and crying my eyes out during) yoga classes regularly.  I couldn’t believe I’d abandoned practicing yoga with others, in community.  Even the minor embarrassment of crying in public was far outweighed by that public’s absolute embrace and understanding.

Having skipped my March 7^th suicide plan in favor of Brazilian Dance at a yoga studio, my therapist was relieved.  Still, because my depression persisted, she wanted me to be evaluated for psychiatric medication.  I visited her recommended psychiatrist, and had an eye-opening experience.

I described my lifelong desire to die.  I described the conditions of my childhood and my history of self-destruction.  I described my self-reliance, separation and isolation.  I described the breakup, the devastation and my March 7^th suicide plan.  I also described my rigorous efforts in yoga, recovery and therapy.  I described my friends, communities and connections.

At the end of our appointment, he said: “In my evaluation, I do not see a need for medication.  You seem to be doing all the right things.  For you, reaching out for help and sharing with others is 100% more powerful than any medication.”  I was shocked.  “Even though I recently planned my suicide?” I asked.  He countered, “That was supposed to happen on March 7^th, right?  Today is March 31^st.”  I had to laugh.  The psychiatrist explained that, in my case, suicidal ideation is a coping mechanism.  When I imagine or even instigate my own death, I feel relief from my pain, and start going toward the solution.

I’ve been trudging toward the solution ever since.  Life since 2008 has become more challenging, to be honest.  I have been through additional relationship betrayals; I have lost jobs; I have been mugged; and I have experienced other hardships.  My friends and family have experienced very, very tough trials.  But even with these troubles, life is not like that destructive past.  I am not engulfed in atmospheres of addiction, crisis and danger.  In late 2008, I became a yoga teacher, and my life now revolves around this beautiful community.  In 2012, I celebrated 10 years of sobriety, and I currently continue to attend meetings.  I practice the 12 Steps of recovery and the 8 Limbs of yoga to my best ability.  I strive to show gratitude for my own healing and to share transformational practices by being of service however possible.  And I have continued periodic therapy with the non-medication prescribing doctor.

*  *  *

Yesterday, I was driving from Philly to New Jersey while spending the weekend reuniting with some yoga teacher training friends.  Suddenly, I gasped at the irony – without planning this, I was driving over the Ben Franklin Bridge, five years after planning to jump off of it.  The previous evening, I had been to a Kirtan concert, where much water was consumed.  K.D. Lang’s version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” (made “famous” by suicide victim Jeff Buckley) was playing on my car stereo.  And I was feeling quite distant from devastation, depression and death.

How could I not cry tears of gratitude and joy?  I knew at once that I had to tell this story.  I know people who, right now, are suffering from the pain of great losses.  Who are considering death and actively trying to kill themselves in one way or another.  I love these people.  I LOVE YOU.

I share my story to say: pain sucks!  And pain ends.  This too shall pass.  My healing power trio is yoga, recovery and therapy.  You might need or prefer a different combo.  No matter what, I urge you to seek what works for you.  To start – say “yes” when people offer soup, dance classes, meetings and conversation.  Jump off of that bridge in a different way – allow yourself to fall into the arms of others.  Surrender.

I LOVE YOU.  OM Shanti.

Spring Break (Through) March 21, 2013

I think I am finally back to my old self.  The one that smiles lovingly, that adores humanity, that feels her body, heart and soul energized by everything in this crazy, amazing, beautiful life.

Welcome back, Holly.  Welcome back.  Stick around.

Phew, what a winter!  I feel like I am waking up from a bad dream.  So to speak.  ”Bad dream” is a funny statement for me.  I believe that all dreams – no matter how scary, disturbing or strange – are good dreams.  ”Bad” dreams arise to liberate the subconscious, to release darkness from that deeply buried storage space, to shed light on what needs to be seen, and therefore, to relieve us of unreasonable fears or destructive patterns.

Just like the dark phases of waking life.

So, I am looking back at December 2012 through February 2013 as a period of awakening.  As rough as that process felt, with its intense swings, shifts and losses, I am embracing the experience the same way I would embrace my most adored teacher.  Some lessons are harder than others.

This peaceful contentment did not arrive overnight.  The shift started to happen once I honestly admitted (to myself and others) the pain of harboring resentments so fierce, I felt victimized.  It was humbling but freeing to finally see how far into negative emotion my skipping and/or stepping back from healthy practices had taken me.  Emotionally, I was not myself.  No.  Wait.  I don’t want to deny any part of my Self.  I was feeling victimized (a normal part of humanness); and, because I was not taking good care of myself, those feelings hijacked my inward state and outward actions.

I’m neither negating nor celebrating the pattern of feeling like crap and acting accordingly!  I am, rather, honoring the value of being present for and going through difficult phases – as messy as that process can be – rather than hiding, ignoring, stuffing or denying the causes of those dark times.  These past winter months were a nightmare.  At the same time – I was wide awake.  I looked squarely at the situation and took action.  Using yoga, recovery and related practices and resources (see “Love: Anger’s Remedy” for an exhaustive list of pro-active solutions), I reverse-hijacked my Self and gradually trudged back to where I want to be!

To trudge is ”to walk with purpose.”  Sometimes, a purposeful gait is the only way through challenge.  Ass dragging or legs sprinting, the trip is always one step at a time.  And of course – it helps to have strong hiking partners.  Grateful to all whom “enjoyed” the journey with me.

Today, I feel lighter.  I tenderly cradle the parts of me that wrestled and wrangled through December, January and February.  I offer myself forgiveness, compassion and love.  And as I meander through my neighborhood, through this city, through the world…I offer the same to all around me.

It feels great to be walking in my favorite shoes again.

Happy Spring, y’all!  OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.  Peace, Peace, Peace.

In Like A Lion March 6, 2013

The weather forecast for DC today was wrong, all wrong.

They touted blizzard-like conditions, and we received Thunder Slush.  That’s right – a messy mix of rain, snow, wind and thunder.  Still, it is roaring out there.  And so March begins.

*  *  *

I’ve been paying attention to a different kind of forecast lately.  And according to one spiritual writer’s monthly outlook, the primary theme for March is “movement.”  In like a lion, indeed.

Aside from the holy days that come at the end of the month, March brings intense seasonal transition.  Tomorrow I begin a two-week “Spring Ritual” that will wrap up with the March 20th Equinox.  Between now and then, I will do an Ayurvedic Spring Cleanse, observe my monthly New Moon fast, celebrate the Maha Shivaratri, attend my teacher’s Shiva-honoring class and enjoy a one-week Stay-Cation.  My hope is to make deliberate effort in order to shake off this challenging winter and ease into a lighter spring.

Whoa.  My heart rate just jumped through the roof when I typed the words “deliberate effort.”  Because life takes sooooo muuuuuch wooooork (she says, with the back of her hand to her forehead, head thrown back and eyes rolled upward toward the heavens in pure dramatic flair).

No wonder I often feel tired.  Even my mind is fatigued.  I would love to experience a day…or even an hour…when I am not so focused on doing everything just right (she says with gritted teeth).  Maybe a brief respite when I stop worrying about controlling my insides and managing the entirety of external life.  A few free moments when I pause my deliberate planting of inner peace and prevention of outer chaos.

I spend so much time protecting myself and others from life’s inevitable ups and downs.  I live in nearly constant fear that if I don’t do everything right in a relationship (whether family, work, friend or community), someone will harm me (abandon me, judge me, shame me, physically hurt me).  It’s an awful amount of pressure.

The thing is: I know from experience that in order to avoid emotional whirlwinds, I must follow specific practices and routines.

Or must I?

The routines – YES.  The elaborate plans for avoidance, protection and prevention – NO.

Even this Spring Ritual is turning out to be yet another plan to forecast my life.  Hah – I can count on Shiva to set me straight here.  I surrender!

Shiva: please liberate me of my clutch on life so I may fall back on your guidance with 100% trust and ease!  As I embark on the next two weeks, my prayer is to be present with the process of this “plan,” to deeply feel and see and taste and smell and hear this experience.  I request that my healthy routines become simply that – the things I enjoy doing in order to feel good and incidentally add to the good around me.  At the same time, may I have a hands-off attitude when things don’t feel good.  May I understand that you are making the plans.  May I throw my arms up in pure surrender to you, Shiva.  During and after these two weeks, may I grow to simply breathe, sense and be.

*  *  *

What if I let life happen to me?

The other day, as I was walking over to the studio to teach, I had a number of beautiful moments of pure presence, where I was nowhere but right there, in that very place.  And I realized: sometimes I think way too much about how to live my life, and I miss living it altogether.

I become so excited about the phases of the moon, the year of the snake, the symbolism of lions, the weather, holy day celebrations – and my intricate and important plans surrounding all of this.  And then there are moments when, all of the sudden, the sunlight hits my face through the winter window and I just stall in the comfort of that warmth…  Or when I hear the doves singing from the roof or a woodpecker hammering away at the tree or spring birds chirping in the bushes and I stop everything to listen to them.

So I can enjoy a somewhat balanced amount of planning and being.  (Somewhat.)

As I type, “Thunder Slush” is enveloping the Nation’s Capitol.  Inside my cozy home, it’s all about classical music, hot chocolate and writing.  I think today’s forecast was perfect.

“Happiness is a Butterfly which, when pursued is just beyond your grasp… but if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

Thanks for reading.  OM Shanti.

Love: Anger’s Remedy March 1, 2013

LOVE: Brief (and maybe not so brief) explorations for our February class focus.  The final word…

*  *  *

So.  I’ve been getting these Ayurvedic massages.  To address the pent-up anger and stress I’ve been blogging about.

Clearly, it’s working.  After last week’s session, I could not even make it to my own front door without sobbing my face off.  The guy is brilliant: that day, in addition to his usual bodywork, he placed his warm hands on the back of my heart chakra and just stayed there for what seemed like an eternity.  I wanted to cry then, but I didn’t.  I wanted to cry later, when he smoothed my furrowed brow with Ayurvedic oils and cradled my head in his hands.  But I didn’t.  After I got dressed, he asked me how I was feeling.  “Like I need a good cry,” I answered, and headed home.  I cried my way out of his building, I cried along the sidewalk to my place, I cried up the steps to the entrance.  I had to stop to cry in the stairwell to my floor.  I practically sprinted down my hallway…busted in my door…curled up on a chair.  And cried.

This massage therapist is not just tapping into the intellectual, heady anger that I analyze, understand, explain and write about.  In the most skillful, gentle and nurturing way, he’s reaching a much deeper, organic part of my emotions.

He’s breaking into my heart.

When I stopped crying I thought, “I wish that love would always be my first response when someone is unkind to me.”  This is how I like to respond.  It’s how I’ve seen myself respond.  But for a period of time since December, most of my first responses were a dizzying blend of anger, blame, shame, self-loathing and sadness.

So I think this guy is onto something with his Ayurvedic touch.  And I’m just gonna let the tears flow.

*  *  *

Today, I’m feeling back to my normal self.  I’ve encountered unkindness, conflict and challenge over the past week or so.  I’ve responded with understanding and compassion – and, at the right times, detachment and indifference.  In addition, I’ve returned to my practice of silently wishing wellness for each person I see on the street while walking between classes and errands.  In general, I am feeling patient, positive and peaceful.

I’d like to believe that the massages alone are responsible for my shift back to center.  That caring hands resting on my heart chakra would instantly restore my softness.  Wouldn’t it be great if a “magic bullet” or “shot in the arm” were sufficiently healing?  In no way do I mean to diminish the authentically medicinal affects of Ayurveda.  The fact is, for me, healing that leads to restoration and growth requires more than one remedy.  If I want to continue bypassing synthetic medication to manage my triggers and related emotions – and if I want to avoid falling back on self-medicating – I must subscribe to a diligent prescription of wellness efforts.  When I sway from my tried-and-true influences and routines, I completely lose balance.  The “tests” to my serenity over the past two months – a string of experiences where different people have been harmful, malicious or inconsiderate in some way – would have felt less threatening and caused little (or no) response had I been aligned with my healthiest practices.

I’ve come to embrace this recent period as an opportunity to witness my reactions – or, more commonly, my overreactions (inward and outward) – and practice self-compassion.  I have been feeling enough heightened emotion and stressed energy to warrant a step back from my usual “fix it” approach, to cut myself some slack, to vent honestly and openly, and, to consider these challenges as somehow related to the intense personal shifts in values, principles and beliefs I’ve been experiencing over the past two months, as well.  I’m grateful to have this understanding!  Still, it has been humbling to see myself habitually on-edge and upset – not my usual warm, smiling self.

Growth does not always feel like a sweet explosion in the heart.

*  *  *

Earlier, I mentioned working on “pent-up anger.”

More accurately, I would say that I am working on healthily processing strong emotions – my recurring “favorites” are grief, fear, guilt, shame and anger.  (Nothing original, I know!)

Why strong, recurring and “pent-up?”  Growing up with addiction, growing toward violent environments and growing away from solutions, I spent much of my life ignoring the core wounds and root causes behind my own destructive tendencies.  In other words, I stuffed decades of grief, fear, guilt, shame and anger.  Heck, I’ve been alive for 47 years, I drank alcoholically for 25, and I’ve been sober for only 10.  So I’m still catching up on what others learned all along their lives – how to constructively manage very normal emotions.

And, I’m still healing.

Through many years of yoga and recovery practice, I have learned a lot about my history of trauma.  I have come to face and analyze my past quite sufficiently.  I know everything about my trauma.  However, self-knowledge does not avail thorough healing – my body and heart have not fully processed through it all.  This recent series of emotional triggers felt very chemical, tangible, even physical.  They revealed that I must take a step back from my primarily heady analysis, which has not addressed the deeper effects of trauma.

One friend suggested that I “get out of my head and punch things.”  I’m not likely to throw punches, but I get what he means.

I can certainly reach into the cracks of my sweetly breaking heart and coax out the tears.

*  *  *

Clearly, if I want to answer offences with healthy responses, preserve my own serenity and add to the compassion in this world, I must maintain and condition my physical, emotional and spiritual well-being.

This is, by far, the hardest personal transformation work I’ve done in a while.  Some days I think that I will never change, that people will never change, that the world will never change.  I want to give up and quit.  But to give in and surrender is to acknowledge that, indeed, people and the world might never change – and that I have 0% control over that.  But I do have 100% control over changing myself.  Changing my thoughts leads to changing my responses; and changing my thoughts and responses leads to changing my state.

If today I discovered all of my yoga workshop flyers taken down, I would think, “Someone must have taken it home as a reminder,” or “Maybe the shop owner needed the room,” or “Maybe another yoga teacher felt scared about his/her income,” or “I’m calling on the love of my friends to remind me that this is not personal.”  In order to keep my peace (and therefore contribute to the peace in the world), I would deliberately choose a positive, forgiving, compassionate or loving response.

Inner peace has returned, and I feel hopeful.  I had many tools to help me get here.  (* See “MY TOOLS” appendix, below.)  But I am a little tired.  Thank god for Ayurvedic massage!  More than a tool, it is a gift that allows me to be nurtured, honor my grief and weep.

Spiritual teacher Marianne Williamson says: “Healing works through a kind of detox: things have got to come up in order to be released. That is true of our personal issues, and also our collective issues. We can’t just push the darkness down, pour pink paint over it and then pretend it’s not there. We have to look at it, accept that it exists and then release it for healing.”

‘Nuff said.  Trudging on with determination, hope and love…

Thanks for reading.  OM Shanti.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * *  *  *

* MY TOOLS come from yoga, other spiritual sources, addiction recovery programs, friends, healers, and countless other resources and influences along my journey of healing, growth and transformation.  They are effective for addressing a heightened state of crisis, for balancing-out post-crisis, and most importantly, for preventing crisis.  Below is a comprehensive (and darn exhaustive!) list of “notes to self” that summarize my tools.  In essence, they all say the same thing: take care of yourself!

CALMING THE STORM:

Call Out The Troops
Cultivating a circle of embrace and wisdom calms the fire.  The unconditional support of friends, advisors and inspirations can motivate constructive action.  Recently, when I noticed that all of my yoga workshop flyers had been taken down, I called one of my best friends and said, “I am livid.”  I vented – starting the healthy process of managing anger.  Later, still in an emotional tug-of-war, I reached out further.  A friend exclaimed, “They can tear down a flyer – they can’t tear you down!”  A Facebook pal dedicated time to meditate “with” me long distance.  And I absorbed this helpful message, written to yoga teacher Elena Brower from her friend: “‘I know you fly from feeling like a speck of dust to knowing you’re divine, but in the stream in-between, the best part…is that you are sharing.’”

Stick A Pin In It
“We’re as sick as our secrets” is a recovery slogan and “Nothing to Hide” is my personal branding slogan!  Rigorous honesty keeps me emotionally and physically sober.  At my 10-year anniversary, a friend said, “We always know how Holly’s feeling; and that’s probably why she’s alive and sober today.”  Like a pin in a balloon, sharing openly deflates the problem, and makes room for solutions to flow in.

Halt
When horribly triggered by something that I’ve previously shrugged off (i.e. my flyers disappearing), I must pause to recognize that I’m in a state.  “HALT (Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired)” is another recovery slogan.  Sober friends suggest keen awareness of these four states, which can cause loss of serenity, and potentially, addiction relapse.  Over the past months, not only was anger plaguing me, I was also skipping meals, eating snacks instead of nourishing food, isolating, staying up late and not sleeping well.  At a recent meeting I heard someone share that her “HALT is out of whack” – and I woke up.

Hold Your Tongue
“Restraint of tongue and pen” (or “thumb and send”) is pure brilliance.  When I feel wronged, my adrenalin is high, and healthy communication goes out the window.  It is wise to take a giant step back (or walk out the door) before responding to the harmful person.  Skillful communication – or, the realization that nothing needs to be said – will arise in time.  Writer Viktor Frankl said, “Between stimulus and response there is a space.  In that space is our power to choose our response.  In our response lies our growth and freedom.”

Accentuate The Positive
When anger and other destructive feelings possess me, I must firmly point the mind to positive thoughts, experiences and facts.  I can list my loving, trusted friends.  I can read a thankful e-mail from a student.  I can recall accomplishments.  I must place myself in positive light.  When I told a yoga peer that I was stuck in self-loathing, he lightheartedly shared: “Something to consider: the self you loathe is not you, it’s…an illusory ‘you.’  Krishna, situated in your heart, loves the real you more than you loathe the illusion you think of as you.”  Although not a Krishna devotee, I can certainly accept his love when feeling horrible.

Give Thanks
Taking the time to meditate on gratitude is an amazing antidote for fear-based emotions.  When I dwell upon what I have, it’s hard to be consumed by what I’m afraid to lose.

PREVENTATIVE MEASURES:

Rise And Shine!
At best, I am a generous, thoughtful, compassionate person.  As well, I am a survivor of many serious violations and assaults, I am susceptible to PTSD and I am a recovering addict.  This means my best self can be challenged at times.  As one might guess, I have been evaluated by medical professionals.  As one might not guess, I have been advised against taking synthetic medication – and encouraged to continue my devoted yoga, recovery and counseling activities.  My morning Sadhana (see “Peace Tools: Morning Routine”) is like medication for me.  It guarantees excellent spiritual, physical and emotional health, and is like an insurance policy for constructive thoughts, attitudes and actions – plus, I absolutely love and enjoy it!  However, guess what I abandoned during the month of December, for various reasons?  Hmmm…

Listen To Your Body
Along with the emotional evidence of imbalance, I’ve also been suffering from digestive problems and middle-back pain: physical ailments of the 1^st three chakras.  The negative emotions associated with imbalanced lower chakras are fear, guilt and shame.  Ah-ha!  This is all coming together!  In her brilliant book, “Eastern Body, Western Mind,” Anodea Judith writes: “The first thing I tell my clients or group members when they wish to develop their third chakra is to give up the attachment to being safe.  In clinging to safety and security, we remain as children – powerless and wanting the world to be shaped for us.”  BAM.  I am now incorporating yoga poses for the lower three chakras into my daily practice.

Cool Your Jets
To make matters worse (which of course, I’m prone to do, being human), I pretty much abandoned my pacifying diet in December.  According to Ayurvedic medicine, my Dosha or body/character type is Pitta, which is very fiery by nature.  Needless to say, it behooves me to follow a diet that soothes digestion and therefore pacifies strong emotion.  It also protects everyone around me!  The Ayurvedic massage has been a nudging elbow in the ribs (hahaha!), inviting me to return to what works.

Suit Up And Show Up
I have been cutting back on addiction recovery meetings.  Not smart for a girl who wants to stay serene.  The other day, a sober elder said, “In my time in this program, I’ve seen one thing unfailingly lead to relapse: not going to meetings.”  People sometimes ask why I still go to meetings after 10 years of recovery.  I plan to go ‘til the day I die for three reasons: to be in the room when a newcomer walks in; to be of service; and, to stay sober.  Period.  The program of recovery is the only thing that has kept me clean these past 10 years (after 12.5 years of trying/failing to stay sober via yoga or therapy or religion or eating healthily or whatever).  Meetings maintain my physical and emotional sobriety.

Clean House
I can’t expect to be trigger free – that would be impossible.  I can, however, enhance my well-being and therefore cultivate healthy responses to upsetting situations.  To be well, I must address unresolved emotions from past experiences.  The processes of looking back at our own actions, admitting personal responsibility, making amends, offering/requesting forgiveness, and clearing away resentments are part of many spiritual, recovery and self-examination traditions.  I first practiced taking a moral inventory as part of the Jewish High Holy Days, or, Days of Atonement, which fall in the 10 days between Rosh Hashanah (New Year) and Yom Kippur.  In her Yoga Journal article about the process of “recapitulation,” writer Sally Kempton said, “Whether we call it ‘confession,’ ‘karma cleaning,’ ‘wise reflection,’ or even ‘moral inventory,’ … you dissolve a lot of the sludge that you carry around in your heart.”  The focus is on admitting my part, not on blaming the other – even if they are at fault!  Although painstaking, cleaning my side of the street pays off with liberation.

WHAT TO AIM FOR:

Kill ‘Em With Kindness
Mean people rock.  They can be great teachers and motivators – if I allow them to be.  The night I was bottoming out on chaotic emotions about my missing flyers, professional baseball player Justine Siegal posted her TEDx video, “Following Your Dreams When Others Are Mean,” in which she describes, “I felt defeated, but I thought – ‘I’m not gonna let ‘em stop me.’ There were some really mean things that were done and said. I decided that when others were mean, I would be kind back. And the reason for this was not because I needed them to like me. I just wanted to keep my own peace. I knew that if I let the anger consume me… I wouldn’t be able to move forward. And I needed my own peace – so I could keep that power within, to do what I’m passionate about.”  Amen, sista.  I have to remember that all people have their own pain – just like me – that causes them to act out – just like me.  When I am at my best, my natural response when I sense that someone is in pain is to wish them well.  I might paraphrase the Buddhist metta prayer, “May you be free of suffering” or chant yoga’s “Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu,” which has the same meaning.  C’mon, if I could tap into the Yoga Sutras to cultivate compassion for the guy who mugged me in 2011 (see “The Yoga of Being Mugged”), I can certainly find kindness in my heart toward these recent ankle biters.

Listen To Your Elders!
Timing is everything.  Over the past few weeks, ancient gems of wisdom came my way (via contemporary teachers):

“A truly compassionate attitude toward others does not change even if they behave negatively or hurt you.”  By the time I read this quote from the 14^th Dalai Lama, I had finally returned to this mentality.  I am again able to think kindly and understandingly toward all (most of the time…and if not immediately, promptly).  Thank god.

“The mind manifests anger when it jumps to the defense of the ego, and that sends our intelligence out the window: we loose our capacity to distinguish between the conscious self and the unconscious matter of the mind and body. We think ‘I have been offended’, but the ‘I’ that was offended is the false ego, not the real self.”  Philosophy teacher Hari-kirtana Das’s recent yoga blog, “The Art Of Anger Management,” visits a number of yogic texts for explanations of and solutions for anger – with admirable humility and hilarity at times.  Check it out.

“Rather than indulge or reject our experience, we can somehow let the energy of the emotion, the quality of what we’re feeling, pierce us to the heart.  …a hardness in us will dissolve.  We will be softened by the sheer force of whatever energy arises – the energy of anger, the energy of disappointment, the energy of fear.  …and it opens us.”  To share all that I have gained from Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron’s “When Things Fall Apart,” I’d have to copy the entire text here.  Trust me – read the book.

“It was only when she lost all sense of hope, that her ego had finally loosened its grip…, that her heart allowed space for the divine to enter and work its charm.”  This moment from the classic Hindu story “Draupadi’s Sari” describes when Draupadi – who is being wrongfully undressed by an evil king – releases her desperate grip on her clothing, throws her arms in the air and yells “Krishna!”  (Post-Publish edit: I neglected to tell the end of the story!  As soon as Draupadi lets go of her sari, Krishna hears and answers – the wrap becomes endless, so she cannot be neither disrobed nor dishonored!  Thanks to Hari-kirtana Das for reading and reminding!)  This harkens back to my friend’s reminder that, once we surrender our hearts to divine love, we need not fear anything.  We can let go.  In the past I’ve said, “Allowing love into my heart can sometimes be like using a jackhammer to plant a seed,” and, “Kirtan is like a can opener for my heart.”  From here on, I’d like to loosen my grip on power tools and kitchen appliances…

Make Room For Love
“Pratipaksha Bhavana,” as described in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, is the process of replacing negatives with positives.  The Sutras do not encourage stuffing the very real troubles that come with certain challenges, but invite the mind to deliberately shift away from dark thoughts, in order to shed light on a new perspective.  From life coach Laurie Gerber: “The perfect replacement for fear is always LOVE.  May you and all beings everywhere find the strength and presence of mind to replace fear with love, over and over and over.”

(Note to self: May I bring positive and loving thoughts into my mind and heart the moment I feel dis-ease.  May I always remember that love is the remedy for anger.)

Again, thanks for reading.  OM Shanti.