"Not ready to stop."

When last I wrote, I needed to take nine classes in seven days to meet the challenge of 60 classes in 60 days.

Challenge completed!

Not without some struggle, however.

The first three classes were relatively easy. The room didn't seem to be as hot, and I did well. The mid-week classes were a nightmare. I had the same feelings I did before starting this challenge -- overwhelmed, frustrated, wondering why I was even there. I related this to a friend who snapped me back to rights:

"Enjoy your class. Focus on your breath during yoga. Only on your breath... Allow your yoga practice to be

a moving flowing "meditative" dance focusing on the breath."

Of course. The breath. Simple as that. Once again, I had gotten so caught up in how poorly I was doing and had forgotten the most basic step: breathing.

 

After that, the final classes of the week were much easier. I didn't make huge leaps in my form or depth, but it was ok -- I was breathing and just letting my body do what it could.

 

Saturday, May 30 was Day 60. I took the day off so I wouldn't have to stress about getting to class after work. It was a good class for me -- I took it a bit easy but I did quite well (my balance was really good that day). Our visiting instructor, J, informed the assembled of my challenge and everyone applauded. She asked, "How do you feel?"

 

I was still trying to collect myself and as I tried to catch my breath, everyone giggled a bit.

 

"I feel better than I did 60 days ago.", I said. 

 

The next day, there I was, back at the studio. J was teaching again.

 

"61?", she asked.

 

"Not ready to stop.", I replied.

 

I haven't stopped yet. 

 

You see, for the first thirty days, the idea was: do I have the physical capabilities to go day after day?

The next thirty days, the idea was: am I mentally strong enough to go every day?

 

The answer is yes to both questions. Yet, I still feel there is more to come. You see, every so often over the last two weeks, I've gotten a glimpse of something in my mind. A glimpse of change. How miniscule or profound that change is, I know not. So, the challenge continues. My stated goal is now 100 classes in 100 days. I think I owe it to myself to find out if these glimpses portend something real and attainable, or if they are mere mirages. That said, I draw the line at 100 days. There can be such a thing as too much yoga.

 

It might mean nothing.

 

It might mean everything.

Stay tuned.

Namaste.

  

Giving Thanks

It is Thanksgiving Day. A time for family, food, and football.
Here it has been a beautiful, sunny day. Nice and cool.

So, before the turkey knocks me out, a few things I am thankful for:

A job and a home.

Family and friends -- extra special at this time of year. Tomorrow will be the sixth anniversary of my Mom's passing. The holidays will always be a bit darker but time heals.

For all of those who serve the nation, especially those of my friends in the Armed Forces, Thank You!! May you soon be home with your loved ones!!!

While I couldn't make the single class today, I am thankful that, after two weeks of a cold, a respiratory infection, and an asthma attack, I made class the last three nights, and they were great!!

My yoga practice in general: the fact that once again I can practice regularly, the friendships renewed, the new friendships formed, the knowledge that, slowly but surely, I am building a better version of me. I cannot begin to describe what being back in that room means to me.

Quitting smoking: Over ten months now and I have no cravings whatsoever. In fact, the smell of a cigarette is repellent to me!!

Last but certainly not least: YOU!!!  If you read this, Thank You! If you are a Twitter friend, Thank You! If you are a long distance yoga buddy, Thank You! Your energy and support are appreciated!

Hoping the holiday weekend is full of joy... and a yoga class or two...

Much love to all!!!

The Century Mark

Two hundred and nineteen nights ago, I sat in this worn, uncomfortable seat and wrote a post about how nervous I was about returning to a regular Bikram Yoga practice, thanks to a renewal of the work-study program. Tomorrow night, I will complete my 100th class since returning.

So, how am I doing?

Well...

I started off wonderfully, full of joy, ready to work, ready to get back to where I was before. For a time, I was on the fast track back -- four, five, six classes a week. Eleven classes in a ten day stretch. A posture clinic. Seeing old friends and making new ones. I was enjoying the hell out of it.

Then came the summer. Issues at work. Issues at home. Making class became more difficult. Then, when I did get to class, I would struggle. Badly. The postures I could do reasonably well became more difficult, and the postures I struggled with became well nigh impossible.

Yesterday's class was a perfect example. In Half Moon there is a huge grab in my side when I try to bend to the left. In Hands-to-Feet, I can't get my hands under my feet -- not even close. Awkward Pose is intolerable. In Eagle, getting my foot behind my calf was becoming easier, but no more. From there it just gets worse -- so much worse that the floor series has become a 15-30 minute Savasana. I can barely look at myself in the mirror these days. Once, I even started to well up with tears but I held them back. No use crying when you are the one to blame for this, and make no mistake, it is my own doing. I'm not smoking, but my diet is still a wreck. No self control. No discipline. Lately, I've begun to wonder why the hell I'm even practicing... if I keep trying to hurt myself with a poor diet, if I can only make two or three classes a week, then why bother? If going to class was just a way of avoiding other issues at home or work, then why bother? If all I'm doing is basically taking a 90 minute steam bath, then why bother?

I'll tell you why.

I have to. For no one other than myself. I have to re-learn discipline. Patience. Love of self. Appreciation. Gratitude. And much more.

I will go back in there tomorrow night. I will simply look at myself in the eyes and try to remember how incredibly fortunate I am to be able to practice this yoga.

I'm tired of staring a hole in the floor while the rest of the class refuses to give up. I'm tired of the instructor saying, "Join back in when you can.", knowing full well that remark is directed at me.

I am strong.

I am a yogi.

Toes on the line...





 

The Mirror

"Don't get upset with the mirror. 

Change the reflection."

-- Unknown

It is a sentinel, ever watchful, tirelessly waiting.

It is a window into your mind -- and your soul.

It can be as warm, open, and seductive as any lover.

It can be cold, harsh, and unforgiving as the Arctic.

You see it every time you walk into a Bikram studio, and it "sees" you.

It's the mirror.

The mirror is omnipresent. When you enter the chamber, the mirror is always in front of you. It is always to one side of you; in some studios it is to both sides. While you unroll your mat, spread out your towel just so, and stretch before class, you may not pay the mirror much mind at all. Your too busy trying to acclimate, to calm your breathing, to clear your mind. 

The mirror stands silently.

Will it be welcoming, accepting, and benevolent?

Will it tear you apart and leave you in pieces? 

Will it be a stern but loving taskmaster, or will it be a ruthless czar torturing you until you give in -- or give up. 

That depends on one person. 

YOU. 

Everyone has a... dynamic relationship with the mirror. For myself, it is difficult to look at myself for an entire class without a bit of disapproval... and some self-loathing. More often than I care to admit, I look away and focus on the floor, or my feet, or the piping on the ceiling... anywhere except on my own eyes. 

Here is a normal class for me. I start out OK in Pranayama and Half-Moon... I can look into my own eyes or focus on the "third eye" on my forehead. In Awkward, still not too bad... even though I have difficulty with the second part (I have so much trouble just standing on my toes). Eagle Pose is where the "fun" begins. Even if I can get my foot behind my calf, my reflection still presents that big blob around my midsection that reveals just how poorly my abs look. From there on our relationship goes downhill. In Standing Head to Knee, I dare not look up from the floor or I will lose my balance, even though the dialogue clearly asks to focus on your locked out knee in the mirror. Even in Standing Bow, I tend to look at the tip of my extended arm rather than at my visage. Usually it gets worse from there, as I look down after each successive posture, especially if I'm having a lot of difficulty that particular day. For the floor series, I tend to avoid the mirror altogether until final breathing. 

What am I thinking when I look upon my reflection? Well, on a bad day:

"When are you finally going to do something about that damned gut?"

"By the way. a push-up or two might help those pecs..."

"That breakfast at McDonalds really wasn't the best idea..."

"I don't care how fucking long you practice, you will NEVER do Triangle correctly, you idiot!"

On a good day, well, I still think a lot of the same things. The difference is that I try to be mindful of why I'm there. I remember how fortunate I am to have this chance to heal my body, mind and spirit. I think about how special it is to practice with a wonderful group of people from all walks of life, all working together to improve themselves and, in turn, the world. I remember that despite the sweat, pain, and sometimes the heartache that I face in that room, that blasted oven is the best place in the world!!!

One last thing. A blogging friend recently asked me for a tip to improve one's practice. My answer: 

"Thank yourself. Making time to take care of yourself takes courage."

Do me a favor. At the end of your next class, before you fall into that blissful final Savasana, look into your own eyes and thank yourself. Don't just think the words. Whisper it to yourself. Let the words slip into the ether, a tiny piece of positive energy you are giving back to the universe. Imagine how much the world could improve if everyone gave just a little bit back....

Namaste.