And what do you call this

If not the best worst part of my life?

So much of me got left behind in the states

Cutting ties, being reckless

Telling lies being senseless

Is this not the worst best part of my life?

I’m coming back inflated, my newfound changes

My troubles not weighing me down

Diving headfirst in, I can’t let these fears win

Wearing my isolation like a crown

Don’t bother, they just can’t relate

And what do you call this

If not the best worst part of my life

Odd calmness surrounds this chaotic scene

Facing denial, being heartless

Stand trial, you’re relentless

Is this not the worst best part of my life?

Oh how I want to be selfish

Oh how I want to be friends with

The person whos holding the longest grudge

Do you think I’ll budge?

Much easier to feel forlorn and forgotten

I wish it wasn’t so often

Won’t you please come around some more?

I want to live like the witches

Forest folklore cottages

Not a sound to break the silence in the woods

Do you think we could?

Walking barefoot with open hearts

Deep breaths of the cleanest air

Turn around, wind in my hair

And you’re still here…

Its autumn now 

Can I finally take a break

11.30.23

Today I attempted Nakrasana and Vatayasana today, my first time ever trying Vatayasana and ironically, I have also never ridden a horse, and I imagine the physical beast form is just as hard as the energetic asana. And felt equally as foreign to me. Up on a wobbly knee, and my other hip trying to understand how to bear weight in this form, I could see the similarities between a young foal attempting to stand after birth. Quite a dramatic image lol but these are the magical powers that our asana practice is based around!

Such mighty creatures, second series brings to our mats. Incredible birds of prey ?? Agile and light footed, it takes a subtle touch to unlock the path to Kapotasana…

I’m trying not to be preoccupied
Cant help but feel this space you left behind
Silent sunrises
Lonely mornings
I had ignored the warnings
Loving too hard too quick
I learn the same lessons over and over…

Lines drawn in the sand
I know where I stand
And I've stepped as far as I dare
Alone exposed and bare
I felt like a dirty cheat
You wanted me to grovel at your feet
And I said no
No deal
I won't let you drown me in disgrace
For real
I know how much I’ve given to this place
Such zeal
Bet you wouldn’t say this to my face…

There's usually this sort of undercurrent of fiery prowess bubbling beneath the surface during intermediate practice. Showing up in bursts like kapotasana, the lift out of eka pada, and of course the mighty karanda. What if I just turned this down to a simmer? What if I just rode the current through these shapes and allowed the experience to happen? Well friends, the most magical thing occurred….

How do you capture the power of silence? The way that its simultaneously suffocating and emancipating. The way that your own awareness seems to close in around you, while at the same time reaches beyond boundaries you didn’t know you had. Suddenly confronted with the microcosmic expression of your divine self, the walls separating your physical body and the matrix it exists in, seem to dissolve. Send your tendrils of awareness searching past your immediate space, and you can feel the pulse of the universe. Like a psychedelic mushroom trip, you can be aware of your own awareness. A sweeping consciousness, taking in the great expanse surrounding you, while maintaining a tether to your inner core….

I started reading “wintering”. Jumped out at me like a like-minded friend. Perhaps its time I allow myself to truly winter.

Theres a part of me that is stuck somewhere below the surface, watching as I blunder through this making the same mistakes over and over. It bubbles up occasionally, causing me to flood myself with temporary guilt and self hatred. You’d think this would be enough to cause hesitation and change, but instead I continue to throw myself against my own boundaries giving myself a laundry list of regret at the end of the day. I’ve been looping from feelings of desperation and tenacity, to utter rebellion and a sense of complete nonchalance.

As I look at my path in retrospection, I wonder if I ever really let myself settle in. Last time I felt “settled”, was really just complacency with suppressed sexual desires. I “settled” into my lifestyle and poured myself into what I thought was my “inner work”. I developed a false sense of independence, and a strong desire to keep up with my new found sense of self. As the deep lakes of my subconscious really started to churn, the surface level work I was doing wouldn’t cut it anymore. It wasn’t enough that I was committed to clean eating, committed to my full time job, committed to this yoga practice. It wasn’t enough that I cared about toxins and recycling and therapeutic communication. I read the right books, I did the right things, and I still found myself on a precipice of self discovery, asking if I was going to jump? Or should I do the safe thing?

Never the safe thing, obviously, this is a memoir.

And what about you
As if you can’t see yourself covered in mud
And there you stood
Against my rigorous words I’d stowed away so long
Where does the time go?
We ask ourselves rhetorics
While pretending we enjoy it
And you’re still lying
Despite my melancholy mood
summer should be hiding
And I start to wonder if its me…

Afterwork and its still light out
Like the suns waiting for you to set
The city skyline,
Orange yellow and red
This is the time of our lives now
The famous golden hour in full bloom
If my days are numbered babe I wanna spend em with you

It's a misfortune when teachers think all they have to offer students are verbal cues or physical adjustments in Asana. The lone, lost mysore teacher, unsure where to put their eyes or their hands while they're standing in the room. You've got to get comfortable with the silence. If you give students space to experience their practice, you are allowing them to uncover layers of their potential, and empowering them to have their own experience.

However, in the kinetic space of the mysore room, the roles are intertwined. As teachers, we have the responsibility of setting the tone and providing the atmosphere. We have the responsibility of tuning into our students' needs, especially the unspoken ones. We have to create a space that welcomes everyone and also stands apart from a "ho hum" experience.

As students, we must bring with us an open heart and mind, yet taking care not to have too many expectations. We must show up for ourselves first, and not rely on the teacher to continually assist us or challenge us.

As a community, we need to show up for each other and be mindful of things like Nobel Silence, start/end times, shala cleanliness, and the teacher's energy. We need to acknowledge the role our energy has in the collective space and strive to act from a place of love.

When we can stimulate this sense of responsibility for our own practices, we open the doors to what our teachers have to offer. We are suddenly in a space of co creation, and that's where the magic happens.

I love my practice

But after 6 years, two trips to india, and many aspects of my “normal life” falling to pieces, I realized how intoxicated I was. What had started as a great way to augment my spiritual quest, now showed signs of toxic addiction.

The Ashtanga Method, and the teachings of Yoga, provide an INTENSE way to hold oneself to the fire. The physical and mental demands of a 6 day a week asana practice, as well as the complex and challenging postures, is a great way to focus the mind and develop strength of body and character. Diving headfirst into a practice is totally my style, and the “expectations” of the Ashtanga practice gave me accountability and purpose. My life transformed when I started ashtanga, and I continue to experience incredible breakthroughs and deep reflections because of my practice.

I love my practice, and I still practice 5-6 times per week. One of my favorite Yoga Sutras, 1.14, says: “dirghakala nairantarya satkarasevito drdhabhumih”. Meaning, practice should be done consistently, with effort, over a long period of time, to establish a firm foundation. This idea of tapas, burning, purification through effort, diligent practice -it works, I promise. But the darkside and often unseen side to this, is that deep asana work is also addicting. Learning to fill your cup with spiritual “activities” is also “grasping”, perhaps another form of spiritual bypassing. Sometimes we start to neglect the 3D world.

I’ve had to realize a lot of hard truths about myself, most of these insights came via my sadhana, which is ironic -the seer becomes the seen. When had I let myself become such an aloof character, out of touch with her inner power and navigation system?

I lost it somewhere on my yoga mat.Somewhere between learning to forward fold and learning to Tic Tock I left my “real-world” identity behind. I neglected my home life, I neglected my finances, I quit working as a nurse (the only real lucrative job I have), I stopped playing video games, stopped reading fiction books, stopped cooking, stopped hiking, stopped doing anything that wasn’t asana practice, philosophy studying, working out, or teaching yoga.

India is the Great Teacher

That’s what we say.

Is it because so many inquisitive souls have walked these roads? Leaving shards of wisdom in their wake?

India is many things.

She is unforgiving and unapologetic in her ways.

She moves for no man.

You must dive in and allow her to sweep you away.

If you can be content with uncomfortability, you will be blessed with a glimpse of her secrets.

India is a world of opposites.

She reveals her beauty in between the hard places.

The Upanishads talk of a psycho-spiritual substance called Amrtabindu, which is a peculiar part of the yogic body. In the same school of thought as nadis, granthis, bandhas and chakras, Amrtabindu is not an energy but a “nectar”, stored in the pineal gland. This incredible substance is said to be the vital life force, which can be regenerated or depleted during our human life -when it is completely depleted, the physical body dies.The Amrtasiddhi teaches that this vital nectar is what animates the body, and is the “essence of everything”.

What does it mean when something looks complicated? We feel a desire to understand, to explain. Our reductionist model of thinking nags at us to break it down, layer by layer, make some sense of it, solve the puzzle. What happens if you are so struck by the beauty of something, that you immediately strip down its layers making a beeline for its inner core? -you simply have to get to the bottom of this!

This approach is a gut reaction at times, and if we get stuck here, we are in danger of missing the forest for the trees. We miss the lesson because we are too busy breaking down its components. We miss the big picture because we are too distracted at the tiny brush strokes. Although this reductionist process is helpful for the learning process, the act of complete immersion is also beneficial.

You've got to get a little uncomfortable if you want any sort of change.

You've got to commit to the process and surrender to the potential pain of fresh starts, hard endings. Breakups, new diet changes, a workout routine -all come with a plethera of both emotional and physical pain. Yet, we seem to view physical pain as something to avoid and emotional pain as something to work through. Asana teaches the importance of both. Like weight lifting, developing strength and endurance in Asana is a brutal process accompanied by fatigue, soreness, inflammation and possible injury. Now go ask any ashtangi and they will probably complain of similar ailments!! But! It's also enriched with self exploration, incredible euphoric moments, deep meditation, and spiritual expansion...

The first time I kissed someone, she was a girl ❤️ I was so young, I didn't really know the difference or think much about gender roles. We played house and pretended to be in love for years. I continued to have close, childhood romances with girls and boys well into grade school.

I went to catholic school until highschool so naturally they taught us nothing about sex let alone anything not heteronormative. But still, living in my childhood suburban bubble I didn't really think about it much. My friends liked boys, so I liked boys too. It wasn't until highschool -good ol gay friendly Lakewood high 😅- that I learned words like bisexual and queer... There were girls in highschool that called themselves lesbians, and suddenly I realized that I also belonged somewhere on the other end of the sexuality spectrum.

For whatever reason, relationships with boys always seemed predominant in my life. Maybe it was the subtle hints of homophobia, and the general expectation for "pretty, feminine girls" to be straight -but even I didn't take my feelings for girls seriously.

Kapotasana and I have an interesting relationship. Presenting herself as the first real neurological awakening for me in my yoga practice. Requiring such inner focus and awareness, it was here, that I really started learning what it meant to stay in your breath. There is a good amount of discomfort for me when I work this posture -and yet I find myself craving the challenge. Whatever your struggle pose may be, there comes a point where you find space, expansion, and clarity that wasn't there before. Time is suddenly limitless and there is only you and your breath. Physical sensations attempt to pull you back to the earth plane, but if you stay focused on the breath you can linger in that state of nothingness for just a while longer...

Let it be heavy… My teacher said this to me recently as I exhaled toward my heels, knowing that this is the moment of truth - “No Man’s Land”, as Taylor Hunt says… Hovering in the discomfort, can you find connection? Can you stay in the depth of it a bit longer? Letting it be so heavyyyy….