Atha Yoganusasanam, Class Four

Outside 51*F
Inside Studio 95*F

Feeling great after The Giants nearly decimated The Rangers last night in the Wold Series. End score of nine to zero.

Bought a Yogitoes skidless towel and I have to say that the towel make a huge difference. No slipping, no sliding, no bunching up and needing to be flattened out. Distraction free.

The towel is printed with the AUM symbol and Saskrit Sutra 1.1. This Sutra may be interpreted as, "the disciplines of integration are here expounded through experience, and are given to humanity for the exploration and recognition of that hidden part of man which is beyond the awareness of the senses." In other words, “With prayers for divine blessings, now begins an exposition of the sacred art of yoga”.

atha - now; yoga - of yoga; ānuśāsanam - exposition, instruction

When I am practicing asanas in class I often have flashbacks to my childhood. My mind remembers the postures that I am re-learning. I have thoughts like, "My body has done this before and it still remember how to do it." There is recognition for the asanas and that camel pose is still out of reach but I will attain that goal when I get there.

I begin today, I begin anew tomorrow. My study of yoga is endless. It is now.

Class 3

Outside 55*F
Inside the Studio 93*F


Two days in a row, good for me! One% closer to arching into a camel, aka ustrasana.

Sixty minutes seemed to go by pretty fast while we down-dogged, planked, dolphined, crocodiled, etc. Didn't feel the exhaustion like I did during my initial week. The studio was slightly crowded and the view of myself in the mirror was just inches from a super limber twenty-something year old. May I repeat? Super limber. This is one of the lessons we get the opportunity to learn in yoga: to embrace our differences. In yoga we learn to value what we can do and are encouraged to accept ourselves, our bodies, our limits. I found my eyes watching her and my mind making comparisons. How unfair.

In the 1980's, I had been exposed to amazing collages in and on the album covers of a punk band from San Francisco called The Dead Kennedys. At the time, and as long as art has been around, many people were into creating satirical and political posters, t-shirts, and wall art. Collaging was another art form of the anti-establishment movement. For an assignment in school, I made a collage based on one of Aesop's fables but since there are over 655 fables, I cannot remember exactly which one right now but the moral of the fable was that there will always be better and lesser persons than yourself. I worked hard on that collage and I got an A. "There will always be better and lesser persons than yourself." I struggled for many years with my own acceptance and understanding of this Universal Morality.

From The Eight Limbs, The Core of Yoga by William J.D. Doran, one of the five Niyamas is as follows:

Santosa - Contentment
Modesty and the feeling of being content with what we have. To be at peace within and content with one's lifestyle finding contentment even while experiencing life’s difficulties for life becomes a process of growth through all kinds of circumstances. We should accept that there is a purpose for everything - yoga calls it karma – and we cultivate contentment 'to accept what happens'. It means being happy with what we have rather than being unhappy about what we don't have.

In conjunction with the fable and the Universal Moral of Santosa, I am working on not comparing my practice to any one else's. I have only been practicing yoga for a short while and I am very good at many asanas and not very bad at others. When we watch others, our confidence can waver but comparison is in my mind not my heart. Standing next to this young yogini, I felt pangs of something akin to jealousy but it was more like amazement. I want to attain the flexibility she has, the control, the power. On the other hand, I am so happy to be where I am, my practice is moving forward and I am always getting better.

I saw Michael this morning. I stopped to say hello and admitted that I wouldn't be in for class since I was watching the World Series. We both want the same team to win. That was good to hear. I don't want to be in opposition with my instructor!

Class Two, 90 Degrees

I exit the studio and the first thing I see in focus is Spencer's Butte enveloped in mist and a flow of fifty degree autumn air greets me on the inhale.

Life. This is wonderful.

This was my second class at ZenYoga since signing up for a four month commitment and my fourth class led by Michael.

It's like Michael knew I would twist my wrist to set up for natarajasana. I do it every time. He brings my attention to it, I giggle, make a comment, like, "I do it backwards every time," or "I'll get it right one day." I never practiced natarajasana in my other class and I have to connect my brain and body to make this pose a reality. That's part of the magic.

This morning, our class of nine women was led into both my favorite and least favorite poses. My least favorite pose, ushtra asana, or camel pose, has always been the most difficult for me to engage in. I got about 2% closer to wrapping my fingers around the back of my ankles while bent backwards and standing on my knees. It felt like an improvement and that's what I'm hoping for. I don't know why I have such a hard time with the camel. Maybe it's because I was called Camel by a teasing uncle as a kid. Maybe because it's so effing hard to do!

My favorite asana is kapotasana, pigeon pose. It looks beautiful when done by a well practiced yogi/yogini and it feels so good to be able to bring my body into a seemingly difficult posture. I would like to get my front leg more parallel to the front of the room. Eventually my pigeon will become more limber and fly away.

The high I feel after finishing a class is a beautiful, blissful connection to myself, to Earth, to Heaven; It's a triad of euphoria. I actually see colors more vividly. Time is lengthened.

I have to say that in comparison to the first three hot yoga classes I attended, the 60 minute sessions are much more tolerable and beneficial now that I can breathe through my nose. Go figure. Also, with sweat dripping into my eyes while stretching to my maximum, the physical aspect of yoga is so much easier than the some of the niyamas (the soulful, intimate and personal laws we adopt as a code of conduct for living) of a yogic practice. Specifically, for myself, the first niyama of purity: cleansing the body and more importantly, cleansing the mind of disturbing emotions. I am an Aries and am ruled by fire. It is in my blood, my emotions, my face, and my temper. Very hard to cleanse fire. Need more water. The third niyama, tapas, the disciplined use of energy, is an ongoing challenge for me. As I look deeper into the eight limbs of yoga, I see more and more aspects that I can contemplate and learn from, ponder or ignore, so let me first do the body work and then the mind work can follow.

Yogitoes towels will again be available at the studio tomorrow, so I'll go to a 4:30 class and pick one up. The first game of the World Series starts on Wednesday and I will be glued to the TV, no class that day.

Procrastinasana

Don't worry, you don't have to judge me. I have already done that for the both of us.

The Giants and The Phillies played game 5 last night and I have not been to yoga. I didn't go today. I am not going tomorrow.

Today I slept in, made breakfast, did laundry, worked on the chicken coop, walked the dogs, went to Domo Sushi for lunch, had my rings cleaned at Beaudet, worked on my Pippi Longstocking wig for Halloween, etc. I wanted to fit a class into the day but I didn't make it a priority. That is likely my problem, other than the baseball games. I wonder if the Giants weren't playing, would I be going to class like I intended to do?

Game 6 at 12:30 tomorrow.

Excuses, Excuses

I had every intention of going to my 4:30 class today.

The Giants and the Phillies are playing the third game of the National League Championship Series. I only watch baseball if the Giants are playing and this is getting pretty exciting. Yoga can wait. Instead I am eating jalapeno chips and drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon with my husband and loving it.

No Class Today

Slept in so I missed the 8 AM class. Went to the noon class but the studio was closed: there is no noon class! My head was convinced that there was one but I had it all wrong. Try again later.


Later...
It's just after 4 o'clock. I convinced myself to not feel guilty about missing class.

First Class at ZenSpot

Mmmm...fair-trade organic Bolivian bliss. After my gen-mai tea, 17 ounces of coconut water, and this coffee, I better stick close to a bathroom for the rest of the day.

I peeked in the window of ZenSpot and saw Michael. For a tenth of a second, I heard a voice that said, "Run!" But I walked into the studio and talked to him about commitment options and then paid for an unlimited four month pass. I was afraid I'd do that. A drop-in class is $20! I had previously paid $15 for an unlimited week and had a pretty good idea about it. So I took the plunge and committed to a month longer than I even thought I was going to do. Great price at $60 per month. Also, they still have the Yogitoes towels for $50. I'll probably get two.

Just before I left for class, a friend in SF made a comment that hot yoga nearly hospitalized her. She begged me not to go. I was (somewhat) determined to get in there and I made it out alive and well. I guess this hot yoga isn't for everyone and I know that I can easily push myself too hard. Finding the discipline to not over do it is a goal in itself; limiting myself to avoid over straining, knowing where to walk the line. I need discipline in a terrible way. I have been learning it through my practice and occasionally I fall off the wagon. Now that I'm back on, I need to remind myself that I am actually really good at this and if I don't practice yoga, I will become the lazy self who annoys me.

Yes! I remember vividly why yoga is cool. I can do things I've never done, never imagined, and tap into an ancient way of health and happiness. My face might be beet red but when I'm lifting my toes off the mat in Crow pose or stretching one arm behind the back, the other under my thigh, and intertwining my fingers somewhere behind my behind, I feel amazed. I am capable, strong and inspired. I can practically see my blood circulating, feel my breath as an entity, as prana, rather than just instinct.

So my first class back in ZenSpot was a success and it will get easier as I get stronger. Right?
My contact lenses did not melt onto my eyeballs and starting this blog is proving to be the catalyst I needed to get myself back into two activities I love.


There are 8,400,000 asanas according to the scriptures. I think I did about half of them today!

I started practicing yoga after I moved back home and was recovering from a divorce. After the unemployment benefits ceased, I was offered an office job by an old school friend. I don't think I had a proper bed yet and I had been sleeping in a hammock for some time. My familiar lower back pain and shoulder tension had returned, unsurprisingly. My Yoga for Children book was on the shelf where I left it five years ago so I copied a list of asanas to hang on my closet door. In the evenings I would practice the poses, never sure how long I should hold them or anything else about yoga.

Before long, pain and tension started melting away and I was feeling better. One day in particular, I was sitting on a bar stool and someone commented on my amazing posture. And it wasn't the first time. Without truly realizing it, I had transformed my skeletal carriage. I understood the immediate effect the poses had on my pain but I had forgotten to give credit to yoga's ability to remain beneficial long after the last asana.

During the past decade of strained back muscles, feelings of tendinitis, and aging, I continually heard this repeating tape player in my head..."I want to take yoga, I want to take a yoga class." I cannot say what kept me or why it took me so long to finally make a commitment to myself, to a practice.

My friend Taylor told me she had gone to Tamarack for some classes and instantly we had a new bond. Practicing together elevated our minds and bodies. I ended up continuing further with classes while Taylor's focus and time went to her studies. We both know how yoga can transform a body, a life, and we are not shy to speak to others about it, especially the ones that have back issues.

So I woke up this morning with a bit of anxiety (or is that "excitement"?) about going to class, pre-thinking which instructor will be there, the heat, my lack of flexibility, etc. I don't have a $50 towel to throw down. I don't know what to wear. I feel fat. My hair needs to be put up so it doesn't get in my face and distract or tickle me. I hope there's parking. Should I wear my rings or take them off? How should I keep my rings from getting lost? Where's my yoga mat?

Tried to get excited about trying out a class or two at Just Breathe but the feeling just isn't in me. The scheduling has some disadvantages and I don't want to push myself into it if I'm putting up a wall. Ate salt and vinegar chips instead. Now I'm eating white rice with my homemade/homegrown cucumber kimchi.

Looks like I'll be heading back to ZenSpot once again. Oh, I get so tired in that heat! And I feel stiff. That's perfect. The heat will melt away the tension. Exactly what I need. My intention is to get to class Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Or was it Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday? Let me get through tomorrow and then I'll decide. Wish Jaime was around to encourage me.

The first time I went to ZenSpot, Jaime and I were going to meet there and sign up. Well, I drove through the parking lot and saw her in front of me, exiting. I ended up parking and setting off my car alarm. I just panic when that thing goes off. I'm embarrassed and feel utterly inept. I got the damn car to shut up and figured she'd come into the studio any minute and we'd have our first class together. As it turned out, she never came! What happened to her?

By the time Jaime found parking, class had started, and out of courtesy to the instructor and other students, she didn't want to walk in late. I was there by myself and felt really comfortable and capable.

Hopefully that feeling will be there when I get my butt back to class!

Comtemplating Granthi

I'd been practicing at Tamarack with Dave as my main instructor for months but I couldn't tell you what style I was learning. I was there to do and to be: to breathe, to move, to relax, to become one with myself. I wasn't there to dissect Hatha, Vinyasa, Ashtanga, Anusara, Iyengar, Sivananda, or Kripalu. Whatever it was, I was finally on the mat after wanting to begin a practice for a long time. I rearranged my work schedule and went to class three time a week, maybe four if I could make it happen.

I decided that I might possibly maybe try Bikram yoga after a year or so of regular practice. I didn't want to show up and feel feeble, undisciplined or lost. What I had read about the Bikram practice sounded very strict, tightly regimented, and serious. In a 105 degree room, if I wanted some water, I do not want to wait until after Eagle Pose.

I was becoming so comfortable with my practice and appreciative of Dave's style of teaching that I thought for a second about becoming an instructor myself. For now I remain a chela, a student, and I have much to learn about the past, present, and future of yoga.

So Thursday approaches. One of my yoga class buddies and I will meet for a flexibility class with our favorite teacher who also instructs at a studio other than Tamarack. It's been about 6 weeks since my last visit to ZenSpot when I couldn't breathe through my nose. I know as soon as I get my butt back into class, I will be hooked again.

Why don't I practice at home?
I have two dogs and they will do whatever it takes to make me get up off of my mat and yell at them. They want me to yell at them! They will lie on my mat while I am holding a pose and then start play-fighting underneath me. One will lick my face if she can reach it. The other one will start barking and play-fight me. If I close them out of the room, all I hear is scratching and whimpering for the next 15 minutes. Are you kidding me? The commotion they cause is the exact opposite of what I need. I can take them on an hour-long walk and they'll doze off after our return home. As soon as I get on the mat, they act as if they haven't been out in a week! My husband says, "You have to train them." To do what? Ignore me? I don't want to train them, I just want to do some yoga! So I must leave the house, go to a quiet place, and pose like a dolphin, a pigeon, and ironically, a dog.


Why do I continue to drop out of classes?
There was that morning when my credit card wouldn't "go through," and a line of practitioners was forming behind me. I was so distraught, I left and missed class (for weeks). There was the time I stopped going to class for a little while because I tripped over my beagle and smashed my upper arm against the door jamb. Major bruise. I've come down with various maladies that I didn't want to share or I was left too weak to do much more than rest. Currently, timing, as in the starting and ending times of classes I want to go to, doesn't synch with my life. If I was a super practitioner, I'd always have time, but I am not super, not even regular right now.



Granthi: Blockages of energy within the body. Literally, a "knot." In order to experience self-realization, the knots must be released.
From the Bikram's Yoga College of India glossary of terms

Yogini's Closet

There are no accouterments necessary to practice yoga but this is America and the "equipment" can start to ring up without you realizing it. For my beginning session at Tamarack, I used a cheap yoga mat that I had purchased when I was practicing Pilates at home. Tamarack Center had a large supply of mats in varying sizes, straps, foam blocks, even silk eyebags. All I needed was my mat, water (Tamarack even supplied water and mugs to drink from), and some comfortable clothing appropriate to downward dog in.

I soon realized that my mat would act unruly as I schlepped it around and I knew it could be easier to carry. Simple. I dug through my old fabric box and made a carry bag from a pattern online. Every bag I saw for sale was at least $20, and as much as $80, for a piece of cloth sewn into a tube with a strap. I am very happy that I made my own bag (next time I'll make it slightly bigger).


Finding the right pants that stayed up but didn't ride up, and allowed for contortions of my body without compromising my ego wasn't hard. Finding the right tank that wouldn't slide up and show off my belly bulge while I had my bum in the air was more challenging. Fine, I know I have a belly, I am supposed to, but I've been getting away with keeping it camouflaged with black t-shirts for years. Nothing tight, not too baggy, just the right size and cut to make anyone not notice it at all. I don't really know if I've succeeded but let's keep pretending. When I continued to find myself pulling at the hem of my shirts during the 90-minute classes, I knew that there must be a solution. I had to start by purchasing a super tight fitting exercise tank that would hold my gut in and allow free movement but also stay in place.

Then there was the issue with cleavage. Not only do I have a belly, I also have boobs. Not little athletic ones and not spinal adjusters, but put me in a tight tank and the girls shout, "Hello!" I am a bit modest about these boobs for several reasons. I am 5'2" and proportionately a little heavy up top. I have always down-played my physical looks because of my need to be known first as an intelligent and strong woman, not as a photograph. Since I've spent the last thousand years avoiding sports and the gym (due to my non-competitive nature), my cleavage-comfort level was being tested. Mostly, other students were blissing out and certainly not focused on what I was wearing, but still, I just didn't want to be thought of as showing too much.

I bought numerous tanks and sports bras but still had to dress and re-dress before every class until I felt comfortable enough to twist that spine and belly until they happily saw the other side of the room.

Once I started going to ZenSpot, which is where hot/Hatha yoga is practiced, I again realized that I "needed" a different wardrobe. Fitted shorts, light-weight tanks and some under-bras were in order. I have only now realized the answer to my most posing (ha, ha) question: why do 90% of the women in my classes wear at least two tanks? To keep everything in place. I found myself wearing a sports bra or an under-bra (not a real bra but something very bra-like but could be worn without a shirt if you had practiced yoga or were a runner for a long time), and a tight tank, maybe another tank if the weather warranted it.

I've previously mentioned that I neglected to bring a towel to my first two hot classes. Do-able but can become awkward and slippery with sweat. To the third class, I brought a bath towel which improved my traction but tended to "ride up" my sticky mat and get out of place quickly. ZenSpot was selling yoga towels for like $45 but I wasn't sure what kind of commitment I could make to these classes (I was exhausted upon leaving) and didn't feel ready to part with more cash after buying 3 new bras and/or bra-like strappy things, shorts, a loose fitting tank, and another tight tank. Now I am finding that these special nubby, anti-bacterial yoga towels can cost up to $80. If I thought I could find a better deal than $45, I will admit, I was wrong.

Have you seen how much designer yoga clothing costs? I guess it's all relative, but for being this ancient system of postures for all bodies, all abilities, I am ready to learn some discipline regarding the fashion of yoga.

The first thing I really heard about Bikram yoga was this, "Bikram yoga is f**king murder."

That did it. I stayed clear of ever having to be near anyone or anything that might have to do with or talk about this murderous yoga. The yoga I knew was charming and peaceful and it came from a book my mom bought for me when I was about six years old. It was illustrated and written for children with animal names instead of the Sanskrit names for the poses. Yoga for Children by Erene Cheki Haney and Ruth Richards came out in 1973 and I have held onto this book my whole life.

I haven't always practiced yoga. I have dabbled for years but I have been absolutely free of yoga most of my life.

Currently, I am in the, "I have to get back into practice," mode because I haven't been to a class in maybe a month. Okay, probably a month plus. And this is how I feel: constant tension in my shoulders, dehydrated, achy, unhappy, fat. I won't say that yoga eradicates these feelings entirely but I do feel so much better with a regular practice. I feel happier, stronger, healthy, tall, and calmer when I engage in the activity I know my body and mind are begging for.

The last classes I went to were exhausting and sweaty. I also had a sinus problem that almost entirely closed off my nostrils from extracting oxygen from the 100 degree air. I'd hoped the humidity in the studio would help my nasal passages to open but instead I gasped and tried to ignore my respiratory problem. I also didn't bring a towel until the third class and even then it was bunching up and breaking my focus. Not the best start with Hatha yoga but I will admit to the emotion I was hoping I'd feel: I miss that class.

I'm the kind of person who will search for excuses not to do things. Having a time regimented and predictable schedule is intrinsic to my success at anything. I am not very good at this. When I started practicing yoga in public, I had one instructor twice per week, at the same time in the morning. Then I started going to an additional evening class taught by a different instructor. All was well. I was losing those feelings of the insecure beginner and becoming very comfortable at Tamarack Wellness Center. Until my instructor announced he was moving to another state and my other instructor went to Italy and my membership expired and my credit card wouldn't go through and there were five people behind me just waiting to get to class. I lost it. I lost that loving feeling.

Then an instructor that had subbed in the mornings became a regular teacher and I was getting down with the pigeon and the dolphin like I was meant to do. My body was accomplishing asanas I'd never dreamed of. This lady played fun music during class and had the voice of a confidant, a loved one, of inner inspiration. I was back and I loved it. Then the season schedule changed and I...lost it again.

She's teaching at another studio, Just Breathe, and I anticipate signing up this coming week. I'm also e.shopping for an absorbent mat so I can get back to ZenSpot hot yoga. I need to do this. I will not make it through this, my fortieth winter, without yoga.