Pain is a Squeaky Wheel

As I was leading my Tuesday evening class towards Savasana I had a brilliant flash of unoriginal thought:  Pain is a spoiled brat – a squeaky wheel that rattles and drags and pokes until it has taken over. It’s the child constantly tugging at our shirt tails – distracting us and pulling us away from our authentic selves. Yep.  Pain – physical or emotional – is a brat.  It always wants to be the center of attention.

And there we are, giving pain permission to tap dance across our shoulders, pound on our lower back or punch it’s way through our digestive system. How can we say ‘no’?  After all, it’s always there – always shouting – always demanding attention.   (And I guess this is where I should clarify – I’m not talking about the pain of illness, symptoms of disease or broken limbs – anything that means a visit to our primary care physician or – God forbid – emergency room.)

Pain loves being center stage.  But I believe, within us all, there’s peace waiting in the wings. I believe that there is a place in our body that is tranquil and quiet.  Calm.  It makes no noise – it doesn’t squeak or make a show of itself like pain does.  Sadly, while we’re giving all our attention to pain, we turn our back on calm. If pain is the toddler tugging at our shirt tails then calm is the quiet child we forget exists.

We need to listen.  Not to the squeaky wheel – at least not all the time – but to the silence.

Let’s find some time this week for stillness – to find the place within that holds our ability to be centered, calm and tranquil. Let’s breathe in peace and create the clarity and balance we crave.

Everyone is different, but this is what works for me:

  • My place of calm is my solar plexus, the hollow just below my breastbone.
  • When I imagine my breath moving into that space – my heart center – perspective returns.
  • To see the breath moving more clearly I’ve given it a color (yellow).
  • As I breathe I visualize calm filling my entire body until there is no room for discomfort or anxiety.
  • Finally, I see my breath, in my mind’s eye, moving outside my body, wrapping around me like an aura, protecting me.

Dealing with Trauma

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Last night I had dinner with friends.  One was recovering from a bad motorbike accident a few days earlier that left him bruised, with several broken bones. My friend was particularly agitated because he had only just begun a new fitness regimen – and now all that hard word would be lost.  He was in pain, frustrated, impatient and determined to heal.

We discussed his options.  He understands muscle ‘memory’ and is concerned that ‘memories’ of the accident will make it difficult to regain the strength and flexibility he had prior to the accident.  My friend isn’t certain what sort of physical therapy he’ll have – he’s still waiting to find out if he’s going to have to undergo surgery – but he’s anxious to do whatever he can to encourage healing.  He wondered if body therapy in the form of Rolfing might be of benefit.

I had two bits of contrary advice:

Rest. Give the body time to process. The physical trauma is recent – only days old – and the body is still trying to figure out what happened.  That’s true on an emotional level as well.  When trauma occurs we need time – at least seventy-two hours, longer depending on the injury – for our physical body and our spirit to process what has happened and how our life might change.

Keep moving. The longer he stays still, the more time his connective tissue has to tighten.  So move.  Even a little.  And as silly as it sounds, the more you move, the more you’ll move.  (If you want to know more about connective tissue and why we must include a flexibility practice in our fitness regime watch The Fuzz Speech.)

My third bit of advice falls between the first two:

Multi-task. I told my friend that as soon as he can climb on a table, to book a massage appointment.  A soothing massage will rest the nervous system and manipulate the muscle fibers – it will increase circulation and help break up forming adhesions and scar tissue.

And Rolfing?

Funny enough, when I woke up this morning I saw an article posted on Facebook by my friend and Rolfer Michael Murphy.  You can read the article here.  And you can meet Michael here.

One paragraph stood out:

In that regard, he said he viewed the treatment as an extension of practices like yoga, which also offers relief without drugs. “Yoga is in many ways analogous to Rolfing because it takes tendons and it stretches them into a position of discomfort,” Dr. Oz said. “They’re just doing it for you without your doing it yourself.”

So true!  Especially considering practices that include a Yin or Assisted Yin element. Assisted Yin combines yoga with massage.  Think slow motion Thai Massage.  The practitioner supports the client in Yin derived positions for up to five minutes.  The effect is a profound stretching of the connective tissue that breaks up scar tissue, dissolves adhesions and deeply soothes the nervous system.  The work can be challenging but is not painful.

Disclaimer:  I’ve never been Rolfed.  I don’t have an informed opinion.  My ideas regarding Rolfing are based on anecdotal evidence. I have, however, experienced the trauma of being thrown twenty feet off my bicycle by a moving vehicle.  Would I want to be Rolfed after that?  No thank you. Still, Rolfing appears to be an intensely powerful experience – one that I think I’d like to try.  But as far as my friend is concerned, my advice is for him to wait until his bones have healed and the bruising is gone.  The best thing he can do right now is practice gentle, mindful patience.

Come On, Everyone, Get Happy!

I am getting tired of people confusing the hope and optimism I experience on a daily basis for naivety.  Seriously.  Get over it.  I can’t help myself.  I’m a happy person.  A few years ago I had a roommate who enjoyed calling me a ‘Pollyanna’ whenever I expressed any positive thoughts about – well – about pretty much anything. And then, over the weekend, my Mom said to me, “I was naïve like you are.  I trusted everybody.  I believed in love…but you can’t trust anyone.”

It must be very sad to wake up every morning believing there isn’t one soul in the whole wide world batting for you.

Listen, it’s not like I spend my days skipping through imaginary fields of flowers, the air filled with birdsong and woodland creatures gathering ‘round to bask in my glow of giddy positivity.  It’s not like that at all.

Anyone who’s been near me when I’m pre-menstrual knows I have a fierce snark streak.  Traveling companions know that I throw f-bombs at bicyclists who run stop signs (not directly at them, of course – I wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings). And don’t get me started on people who bring more than fourteen items to the Express Check-out line at the local Safeway.

Like everyone, my moods vary.  They can cover the gamut of the Seven Dwarfs in the time it takes you to watch an episode of the Big Bang Theory.  But underneath it all is the knowledge that everything will be all right.  This isn’t a ‘hope’ or a ‘wish’ – it’s a knowing.  I know.  Some people wear their bitterness and cynicism as if it’s something to be proud of.  But if I didn’t know there was good in the world – or the potential for joy in every moment – I would lose my mind.

Opening Your Heart

The truth is, while I believe it’s possible for individuals to have a predisposition toward being either preternaturally happy or melancholy, it’s yoga that elevates my mood and keeps it elevated.

Of course there are other mood enhancers, but why would we choose a cheap, processed sugar-filled meal over a fresh, organic feast?  The first might provide a fast high, but it’s inevitably followed by a mighty crash. A regular yoga practice sustains me.

Let’s Get Physical

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that the asanas in yoga have a physiological effect on our body.  We can feel the stretching and strengthening, the twisting and the rush of blood.   But the poses have an emotional effect as well.  For instance, forward bends tend to be calming while backbends are heart-opening energizers.  And that’s pretty much any forward bend or back bend.   As you might have guessed – I’m a big fan of the back bend.  My favorites?  Simple, supported poses that utilize props to protect the lower back:

How simple is this?  Nancy has used Three Minute Egg blocks to arch her spine and support her head.  But the same effect can be achieved with a bolster and pillow.  And you can see the lift in her chest as well as the way her shoulders open back.  Her legs are straight, but knees can remain bent or placed soles of the feet together in cobbler’s pose.  Come out of the pose when your body tells you to (although I wouldn’t hold the pose longer than ten minutes – but that’s just me).  Follow the pose with knees to chest.

Not only will opening the heart energize and enhance your mood, it will reverse the chronic rolling forward of shoulders computer work and driving encourages.

Go ahead – get happy.

A Private Practice

One of the things I promised myself when I returned from teacher training was that I would continue with the 30-minute meditation we practiced each morning.  Without fail I would rise at the crack of dawn and sit in quiet contemplation.  Every morning.  For thirty minutes.  Without fail.  Oh yeah, and then I’d add thirty minutes of yoga.  Adding this to my crowded schedule would have the alarm going off sometime around five.  That’s actually before the crack of dawn.

And yet, I tried.  For about three days.  Until my plan was shot down by my pesky snooze alarm.

So how do we do it?  How do we keep the promises we make to ourselves?

Easy.  One step at a time.  With forgiveness.  By accepting that the desire to change should be a joy and not a chore.

The new plan?  Three days a week.  Ten minutes at a time.  Either in the morning or the afternoon.  On some days maybe both.  And when it becomes a part of who I am, then four days a week, and then five.

You see where I’m going here.  It doesn’t matter if it’s meditation, or asana practice, or going to the gym.  Change doesn’t happen over night.  We don’t go to bed on a Sunday evening and wake up on a Monday morning a new person.

It takes commitment and patience.  It takes love.  And we’re worth it.

A Thousand Sundays Later

When the California Street Farmer’s Market opened two years ago (or was it three?)  I promised myself I would visit every Sunday morning and come home with a week’s worth of organic goodness.  I’d have fresh produce breakfast, lunch and dinner while treating myself to organic goat cheese or fresh pressed cider.  Even better, because the market was only a mile away, I’d wake up with the sunrise and walk the scant mile.

One thousand days later, give or take a few Sundays, I did just that.

Let’s face it.  Good habits are difficult to establish.  I’m trying to trick myself into a ‘new normal’.

When I returned from yoga teacher training, I was certain I’d maintain the meditation practice and alcohol free vegetarian diet.

I promised myself I’d practice Flying Dragon or The Infant Series every morning before sitting down to write.

I was going to cancel my cable no matter how horrible the withdrawal from Mad Men was.

And I’d manage to do all of this before opening my laptop to check emails.

I dream big.  But I was asking for too much, too soon.

What I needed was to re-establish my rhythm – I needed to embrace my ‘old normal’.  I needed to give myself time to settle into a familiar schedule and to process everything I learned in those last weeks of August.

And now, six weeks to the day that I loaded my yoga mat and suitcase into the back of my Honda CRV and made my way over the mountains to Soquel, I finally feel ready to embrace a bit of change.  To welcome a new normal.  Am I going to cancel my cable?  Oh heck no.  Mad Men is brain candy.  And we all need something sweet now and then.

But here’s some humble advice anyway:

  • If you feel the need for change, ask yourself ‘why’. If you don’t know why you want to see a change in your life, then it probably won’t ‘stick’.
  • Play with your new normal – see what works, let go of what doesn’t without guilt or regret.
  • Hang on to a taste of the old normal.
  • Don’t make change a chore – make it fun.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a fridge full of fresh vegetables to prep for the quinoa salad I’m making for my lunch tomorrow.

Hair Today

Hair is over rated.

Some people mark life transitions with tattoos.  I have commitment issues – the only tattoos you’ll ever see on me are the ones that fade away.  To mark my life transitions I’m more likely to go for something long lasting but a little less permanent.  Like a haircut.  A very short haircut.  Delivered through my own hands. With a one-inch blade.

Shaving your head when you’re twenty-seven – the age when I first took a cheap beard trimmer to my curly brown locks – feels brave and reckless.  Doing the same when fifty-two is eight weeks away leans a little closer to menopausal madness.  But I craved it.  I talked about it for the past week and when friends said “No!” I still threatened to do it.

And by 5:43 this afternoon my hair was in a pile at my feet.

Things change. Hair grows. When I left my apartment on August 15th for teacher training and then followed those two incredible weeks with my journey home, I changed.  I moved closer to my authentic self.  And I needed to mark that change somehow – make it tangible.  Go figure.

Samsara

I was the first one home.  I had to be – it was only a ninety-minute drive.  And so while I was unpacking, Anke and Emrik were leaving for Europe.  While I did laundry, Steph was waiting for the floatplane that would bring her home and Jaymie and her husband were enjoying one last day in Santa Cruz.  As I washed my car, Kristen and Mel were driving up the coast. Michael headed to Sonoma.   As I cruised the aisles of my local Safeway, Janet was cruising at 35,000 feet somewhere over the Pacific. We were all someplace else.  We were all returning to family and friends.

There were hugs and tears, of course.  That’s what sent me away in the first place – I didn’t want everyone to see me cry, although they already had.

By the time Dave reunited with his wife I was enjoying a late lunch that did not involve lentils, quinoa or green salad (although I wish it had).  I was in my beloved green leather chair, with the remote control in my hand.

Only hours later and the old comforts were nipping at my heels.

Habits shut us down and prevent us from living the life we are meant to live.  They are like choke holds.  We struggle to wrestle free from them.

Establishing a new rhythm to my life – abandoning the patterns that hold me down – will require persistence and strong belief in my ability to make it so.

Talking to friends about the last two weeks at Land of Medicine Buddha will be a difficult thing.  I can talk about the great food, the lovely people I met, the schedule we kept – but I won’t be able to talk about how it felt.  But that’s all right.  It’s my hope I won’t have to explain anything.  My actions will speak for themselves.

Day Six – Land of Medicine Buddha. No – Make that ‘Home Sweet Home’

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We have today off. My roommate invited me to drive down the coast with her but I’m a homebody.  After Friday’s last ‘Namaste’ I made my way ‘over the hill’ and came home.  Being home grounds me.  I can confirm the apartment is still here, my houseplants are still alive and the upstairs neighbors are still loud. The bottom line?  There’s a week of laundry to do and a DVR locked, loaded and ready for viewing.

So I’m here in my little studio processing the last six days and anticipating the next seven.  What I’m really trying to say is this:

Teacher training has been a colossal mind-bender (and you can feel free to replace ‘bender’ with slightly saltier language).

  • One moment I’m certain I’m a good yoga teacher – my teaching philosophy runs parallel to Paul and Suzee’s.
  • In the next moment I’m a failure because I’ve never seriously considered introducing yogic philosophy to my classes.
  • Before I arrived my yogic path was an Iyengar path – I believed his system of alignment meant my students were safe.
  • Now I’m asking myself, ‘how do I tell my students I’ve been wrong for the past sixteen years?’.
  • I convince myself that I can teach a hybrid of Iyengar and Yin (I call it I-YIN-Gar!).
  • But then I see that beautiful photo of Iyengar and his curiously long eyebrows in the studio where I teach.  He looks at me.  His brows are knit together in disapproval.

It’s a delicate balancing act, integrating two disparate schools of thought.

If you asked me, “What are you enjoying the most about teacher training?” I think the answer would change moment by moment.  But I have to admit I believe the most meaningful part of the day is the thirty-minute morning meditation.  I believe that continuing the practice when I return to “real life” will go a long way toward discovering where this new yoga path will lead.

Day Five and Counting at LMB

We learned a Yang sequence yesterday that I can’t wait to teach and this morning explored deepening stretches for the hip and lower back.  With twenty minutes to spare Paul said,  “Ok, do whatever you want.”  I couldn’t help it – I slipped in about ten minutes of Iyengar. Integrating Yin with Iyengar continues to be challenging but I don’t believe it is impossible.  During my Iyengar practice I was able to assimilate a little of Suzee’s Yang Flow with my favorite “slow flow” (triangle, half-moon, warrior one and back to standing forward bend) and if felt incredible.

I don’t believe it’s right of me to completely abandon the Iyengar way, even as I embrace Yin.  Just like everything, there is a balance.  It’s important to know what works about Iyengar (the props and the pace) and what doesn’t (the insistence on exact alignment).  And it’s important to know what works in Yin (the targeting of the fascia) and what doesn’t (the lack of precise answers that can frustrate a beginner).  I believe that in my teaching and in my practice, the two might gently learn to accommodate one another.

It’s a good day.  I can’t wait to return and share what I’m learning.

Can You Go Home Again?

When I began to consider self-care – what it meant and how I could care for myself more without caring for others less – I really believed it was just a matter of reduced screen time, more quiet time and a few walks around the block.  I believed it was that easy.

As it happens, self-care manifests differently depending on who you are and where you are in your life.  Sometimes we need to remind ourselves that we deserve to be cared for just as much as anyone else.  That’s a big one for me, believing I deserve it.  Believing I’m worthy of care.

Thomas Wolff wrote: “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood … back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame … back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”

And yet, if I want to connect the dots of my rambling life, if I want to heal and move forward, then I must take a huge step back and look at the past I abandoned so many years ago. I’ve booked my ticket, hotel and rental car and in September I’m going home for the first time in twenty-eight years.

This won’t be easy but I’m going to embrace every good, bad, ugly and thrilling moment.

Fortunately, before I go East I’m headed to the Land of Medicine Buddha on the Pacific coast in Soquel, California.  I’ll be attending Paul Grilley’s Yin Yoga Workshop.  Fourteen days of meditation, yoga, instruction and vegetarian food with no internet access.

I’ve wanted to attend Grilley’s teacher training since 2008 but each year I managed to talk myself out of it.  I’m glad that I’ve finally overcome (or at least set aside) the fear and insecurity I had about attending.

I suppose you’re wondering about the fear and insecurity. Let’s not go there.  I’ll just say my fears walk a fine line between the rational and irrational.

On a final, practical note:  if you attend my classes either at California Yoga Center in Palo Alto or at Avenidas, you can find details on who is subbing for me while I’m gone and important dates regarding the summer and fall quarters by clicking on the Classes page.