Fill 'er up...

November 14, 2011

Boulder has filled me back up with movement.  It is so easy to be stagnant on a long road trip.  While the yogic LESSONS and meditation on this journey keep coming, my asana practice slipped.  Until Boulder.  Boulder is chock full of healers, teachers, dancers, artists, and practitioners of all kinds.  It seems the community is built to serve each other, and those who visit.  I found a great Living Social deal for OmTime yoga in downtown Boulder, and got my asana on.  If you ever have a chance to take one of Shannon's classes there, I highly recommend it!  She is a channel of energy and light.

A definite highlight of Boulder is movement mass, which we attended yesterday.  It is a large group of people who gather on Sundays for their church in the house of DANCE.  One hundred people in a room dancing whatever comes through their souls.  The music is loud, the energy vivacious.  It was a cloudy day to start, the windows a blanket of gray.  When the music picked up and the bodies moved with the beats, the sun crept out to shine through every window lighting the room up and giving me goosebumps.  It was a sensation I'll never forget.  A pinnacle moment of manifestation from a room full of life. 

We are given opportunities to arrive at the gas stations of our lives.  I found one in Boulder.  When we are running on empty we feel it.  We must remember that every so often we need to 'fill 'er up.'

Musical Meditation

First signs of winter in Wyoming. Photo: Whitney McNees

November 9, 2011

I’ve never been very good at meditating. Whatever “good at meditating” means anyway. However, on this trip, I seem to be finding all kinds of unique ways of meditating that work for me.

We’ve all had it happen to us. We hear a song that brings us back to a moment, but how often do you sit and listen to the song all the way through and remain in that moment? I think it’s safe to say
that most of us in our busy lives zoom briefly back to that first drive with all of your friends packed into your car. What about the song that you listened to right before your college athletic team won league championships? How long do we really give ourselves to relish in these nostalgic feelings before snapping back to what we were doing?

It happened to me today. I had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of a massage from Mat's sister Jennie. While on the table I suddenly heard the soft sweet sounds of George Winston on the piano. I was brought back to New Jersey, sitting on my dad’s lap by the fire with hot chocolate, a snow-covered backyard, and the smell of mom’s chili and cornbread permeating the entire house. Instead of having to zip back to the present, I was able to lie there and remain in my childhood for the entire song. The next time you hear one of these tunes, I highly recommend remaining in whatever time warp it brings you to for as long as you can.

I don’t get to see my dad too often these days. Next time I do, I’ll be sure to get mom's chili and cornbread recipe, sit down on a snowy day with dad and listen to Mr. Winston tickle the keys of the piano.

Sensory Meditation

November 7, 2011

We spent the night in the Airstream at Indian Springs Hot Springs in Colorado.  On this brisk, wintery morning we woke up refreshed and eager to move our bodies in the hills.  Our friends, First Ascent athletes Lysney Dyer and Chris Coulter joined Mati and I set off on foot into the rolling forest.  The sky swirled gray in the distance, but for the time being we were underneath blue.  When we reached the top of the ridgeline we had set our sights on, we decided to sit for a while. 

It had been a chattery, high-energy walk to the top and I wasn’t sure if I’d really be able to just slow down and meditate.  Then again, I thought, there’s nothing wrong with seeing what would happen. 

My first observation was that I didn’t want to close my eyes, so I kept them wide open.  As I took in the sights surrounding me I quickly fell into a sort of sensory meditation.  I saw the gray sky creeping over the peaks closer to us.  The golden grasses dancing in the breeze.  Naked trees stripped of their crispy leaves.  Suddenly I tuned into the soft breeze on my face and was immediately pulled from sight to touch.  Closing my eyes, I felt the cool, hard earth beneath me. I was transformed into a vehicle through which sound was heightened.  What a commotion at first!  The distant gunshots of hunters.  A jet plane flying hundreds of humans off to some exotic place. It quieted down to the echoing call of a vulture through the valley, a woodpecker in a nearby tree behind me, and a cluster of small birds singing to each other.  I felt myself being able to pinpoint exactly where these sounds were coming from.  Then silence.  The quiet of it all prompted me to inhale deeply.  So deeply that my lungs and the insides of my nostrils froze, filling me up with energy and vitality.  I could smell the all-familiar decay of leaves and the inherent snow that swelled in the clouds above.  It smelled in a way that I could taste the seasons changing. 

Everything I experience through each sense permeated through me to my very core. Once again I was reminded that you never really know what your experience with any branch of yoga will bring-and to trust that your senses will always guide you to peace and rejuvenation.

Photos by Mathew Gershater

A long "ralk" on the beach...

Photos by: Mathew Gershater

October 28, 2011

After a long night of entertaining the eclectic nature of downtown Eugene, OR, Mati, Lel, and I were more than ready to take off for the coast.  We drove west into the night until we hit the water whose waves would sing us to sleep. 

This day has been one of the best.  I grew up near the ocean, where the saltwater, seagulls, pelicans, and waves will forever hold a dear place in my heart.  Mati and I set off to the beach where I was excited to find a few pieces of sand dollars that I planned to take home.  Mati brought up the belief that sand dollar pieces bring bad luck.  I hung my head superstitiously and reluctantly put them back as he assured me we would find a whole one. 

A short while later I decided to go for a run along the water line.  I’ve been having some knee pain lately, and wasn’t sure running in the sand would be the best idea, but I went for it anyway because my days running along the beach are few and far between. 

I gave myself the goal of running to the end of the beach where the cliffside met the sand and sea.  It was a magical kind of run with springs trickling from the hillsides, and faces of giants carved into the sandstone walls.  My knee began to hurt about 400 yards from the cliff.  Convincing myself that I should at least reach my goal I began to "ralk" (that’s a run walk combo that I’m really good at now).  About 100 yards out I didn’t think I could make it anymore until I looked down to find a perfectly intact, 4 inch in diameter sand dollar.  I bent down to pick it up, and when I lifted my gaze to the oh so close cliff wall I saw that there was a cave.  I limped my way to the cave and the first thing I saw was another perfect sand dollar propped up on a rock as though someone had placed it there just for me to find. 

 After a short sit in the mossy cave that dripped sea water from the top, I decided to take with me the sand dollar that was in the cave, and replace it with the first one I picked up for someone else to discover. 

As I walked out of the cave, I discovered that the sand in the area was littered with full sand dollars-I just had to take my time and open my eyes and heart.  Thanking my knee for the slow down, I began the long "ralk" back to the Airstream to share the story with my friends. 

I just don't feel like it....

October 25, 2011

Sometimes I just don't feel like doing an asana practice.  I used to be so hard on myself when this would happen, but after taking my teacher training, I learned that there is so much more to yoga than asana.  There is sitting, breathing, practicing mindfulness, truthfulness, and non-harming in day to day life, and so much more.

Today we are in Bend, OR spending some time with Mat's sister and brother-in-law, Jessie and Jesse.  It is a gorgeous fall day and the Oregon colors are glowing brilliant oranges, reds and yellows in the low sitting sun on the horizon.  We decided to go for a hike and watch the leaves fall and the geese fly southbound over our heads.  Walking along, we came upon a beautiful spot on the river perfect for doing a few asanas.  But I just didn't feel like it.  For no good reason other than my body felt perfectly content going for a leisurely stroll in the park.  So I sat instead.

Jessie, Mat, and I took our seats on a large fallen tree by the creek.  The water was splashing upward against the sagging branches forming mini icicles.  Tiny specks of water reached desperately into the sunlight, as if the creek itself was too cold for the droplets! 

We closed our eyes and Mati led us through a meditation.  We let our thoughts roll quietly and peacefully down the stream, reminding ourselves to remain fluid in our lives and go with the flow.  It was the perfect yoga practice for the day and I was reminded that in times I can, in fact, receive more from just sitting than trying to force body flow. 

Arches in Arches

October 19, 2011

Today the plan was to wake up and ride.  We were headed to a nice 15 miler for the afternoon when we noticed that we had a flat tire and bent wheel on the Airstream.  Even though I am well aware that “nothing makes the great spirit laugh harder than a man’s plan”, I’m still working hard at rolling with the punches.  I’m getting much better at it.  I like plans though, even general ones, and my chest flutters and I get a bit anxious when they change unexpectedly.

We spent all day dealing with the wheel situation.  As the guys focused on the tasks at hand, I watched the sun creep steadily from East to West.  The closer to the Golden Hour we got, the more anxious I felt.  I continued to take deep breaths and remind myself that no matter what happens we will be, as Mati likes to put it, right on time.  

Finally, around three ‘o clock we landed at our new campsite on the Colorado River.  It was too late for our ride, so we decided to head into Arches National Park for a late afternoon walk. 

After a beautiful drive through the unique landscape of Arches, we parked at the Delicate Arch Trailhead and walked the 1.7 miles up to one of the most incredible natural features I have ever seen.  Delicate Arch glowed bright orange in the light of the setting sun.  It was no surprise that I had the sudden urge to backbend, to conform to the shapes of the earth around me.  I took my shoes off to feel the sandstone beneath me. 

We ran around, explored, snapped photos, moved our bodies, and finally sat down. I rested my head on Mati’s shoulder, and watched the sun set slowly over the horizon.  We were right on time. 

   

Supta Vir-ahhhhhh-sana....

October 18, 2011

Today we rode the full twelve-mile SlickRock Trail!  It was challenging, and at times downright scary.  It didn’t help that I read the sign at the trailhead declaring Slickrock one of the most difficult trails in Moab.  Talk about psyching myself out!  I walked some, rode a lot, dropped down hills that terrified me, and climbed to the top of others that I never thought I’d make it up.  In the end, I was high on endorphins and the feeling of success. 

After the ride, in addition to an ice cold stout from the local brewery, my body craved some counter-movement.  The last thing I wanted was to stretch into down dog after holding my body weight on my wrists and a white knuckled grip on my handle bars, but I sure found it easy to surrender into supta virasana for ten minutes!