February 7

January 16

January 1

December 8

November 21

Holiday treats 2011

Winter farming

Of sparks and mistakes

Gardeners and the flower bike

Skydiving

Take a breather

Pollination

“If you feel soreness or tenderness in the center of your muscles, and you feel it on both sides of your body, it’s likely normal.  If you feel pain localized toward a joint (in the tendons or in the ligaments of the joint itself) or only on one side of your body, beware.  If the pain comes on after a workout with new movements or one that is more intense or longer than usual, keep an eye on it.  It should improve in a day or two.  If the pain continues to worsen or you feel it during exercise, especially if it affects your form, stop and have it evaluated.  [The following] table lists the difference between normal soreness and warning signs you should keep your eye on.”

The first video below makes a surprising assertion about how much exercise we actually need (hint: it’s less than you think).

After that is an interview with members of the Philadelphia Sixers. About as fit as a person can be, these guys use yoga to put retro-burners on their training program, in ways that may surprise you (savasana, anyone?)

Also, you may enjoy this brief and factual article discusses calorie-burning in yoga, which explains why doing yoga in a hot room may not burn as many calories as you think it does.

And whatever your approach to yoga, please take the wise advice in this news video featuring a studio in Dallas…. Respect your limits!

This article has some good ideas for using your yoga skills to make that airplane ride more comfortable, and below is a helpful routine to know, which you can do while sitting at your desk.

Scroll further down for a quick iPhone suggestion and a couple of videos about doing (ahem) yoga outside Whole Foods….

Don’t forget you can always follow along with a yoga class on your iPhone… the alignment cues may not be tops, but the free classes available on iTunes may help keep your practice rolling when you’re pinched for time or on the road.

And you can practice a yogic attitude anytime, even while you’re looking for a parking spot outside Whole Foods. Speaking of which, check out the Whole Foods yoga ‘tudes in this rap song and the (even funnier) repartee below it.

Narrated by Br. David Steindl Rast

Though it comes from a seemingly different point of view than the e.e.  cummings poem or the words of Brother Stendl Rast, this video about a man’s life-changing experience of yoga may also move you.  His final words hold a message even lightweights should keep in mind: “Don’t give up on yourself!”

The Bhagavad Gita is a sliver of a story in the middle of a towering war epic, a gem in an ocean of verses.  In it we live for a few pages with a gifted young warrior whose duty compels him to attack his beloved grandfather and cousins.  Overcome with fear and revulsion, he freezes and must ask his charioteer for help.   His charioteer, as it turns out, is god himself.

To put it in a contemporary perspective, think of one of those bloody, endless, intricate, and wildly popular video games kids play.  Then imagine that in the middle of the battle-quest, the main character drops his weapon and begins to sing.  His voice is beautiful, unearthly, captivating; his words expose the deepest truths of our human condition.

This is the song of the Bhagavad Gita, set in the midst of the epic Mahabarata.  The song is mainly about yoga, but you won’t find any verses about stretchy poses or touchy-feely hearts.  We’re not in a quiet room with candles and incense.  This yoga is for warriors, a neutron bomb parachuted into the middle of a battlefield. It is a yoga of action.

Yogic action is the only way to resolve the young warrior’s impossible dilemma, and the Gita makes it clear what qualifies as yogic action.  It depends on the quality of the warrior’s mind, which must be undisturbed, attentive to duty, detached from results, and aware of the infinite. * Such actions are yoga, and they lead the warrior to his or her highest potential.

For me, this definition of yoga is as American as apple pie.  I grew up on action stories and action figures: Teddy Roosevelt on his horse, Paul Bunyan felling forests, Abe Lincoln splitting logs.  As a child I heard in these stories a sense of commitment to our emerging nation, a dream of unimaginable promise and scope.   The yoga of the Gita promotes these same ideals.  Its heroes and mine both speak the language of duty and awareness of a kind of infinity.

Action, duty, and awareness of something larger are also hallmarks of the yoga we practice in America today.  Our yoga studios are akin to gyms.  Duty-bound by the modern idea of physical health, we go there to be active.  As we do the poses a sense of spirituality wafts among us like pleasant incense. (Like incense, some of us love it, some barely notice, and the smell drives some away.)

But for all their congruence with the Gita’s ancient principles of action and commitment and spirituality, my American heroes leave out something important.  And so, one could argue, does the yoga most of us practice.  The heroes were mightily attached to the results of their actions, and so we are attached to the results of doing yoga.

I am, anyway: I do yoga because I want results.  Don’t you?  I think most people go to their mats because they expect to get something out of it: more flexible limbs, greater health and energy, less stress, increased emotional stability, a deeper spiritual connection, or a pleasant hour stretching with friends at a studio. Imagine doing yoga without expecting these results.

Wait, hold that thought!…

Imagine doing anything without expecting results.  I can barely get the thought into my head.  For me, my actions are almost inseparable from what I hope they’ll achieve.  Like the hydrogen and oxygen in a water molecule, I can’t split them apart.  If by some miracle I did cleave them apart, there wouldn’t be any water there.  So it is with me: split my actions from their results, and I would barely know who I am.

Detachment is the neutron in the Gita’s bomb, and doing yoga poses gives us a way to experiment with it.

To get a glimpse, try this thought experiment.

Imagine yourself doing a yoga pose in your normal practice.  Now ask yourself what you hope to accomplish by doing it. When you’ve identified an answer, toss it out.  Go hunting for the next deeper answer, and when you find one toss it out, too.

Keep going like this, releasing your attachment to every expection of a result that you can identify.  Adopt the persistence of a four-year-old asking “why?”  Detach, detach, detach…and don’t be fooled and by siren reasons like “because I want to learn to do this pose” or “because it will feel good”.  Chuck them out too.

For me this is an incredibly hard exercise to pursue to its conclusion.  But I do have an inkling of where it might lead.  In my own brief experience, dropping any attachment to the results of my actions in a pose leads to a greater awareness of my inner actor.  It’s like pulling a set of curtains away, one by one.  When all of the results have been pulled aside, I see what is behind them.  Call it what you will – my homunculus, soul, or Self, my inner intimation of infinity.

This may be the intent of the Bhagavad Gita.  As perplexing and simple as splitting an atom, the power of this experience has nothing to do with being able to bend your back or stand on your head on a yoga mat.

Rather, it’s about touching an elemental force: the energy of an action that has been liberated from results.  And I have not found a better laboratory for exploring this internal physics, than the quiet effort of practicing and practicing a yoga pose.

Have you?

* This is my current reading of Chapter 2 verses 46-52 of the Bhagavad Gita, which arguably contain the seeds of everything that follows.

Let us know if you’re particularly interested in being in the film (or in not being filmed), and we’ll take care of you.

Light on yoga makes an ambitious claim for savasana, and it may well be true.  More than the nap-time that always comes at the end play period, this integrating and restorative pose has the potential to be one of the best poses for us in a yoga practice.  Here are 7 tips from our teachers on how to get the most out of your savasana.

1. When I first began practicing yoga, I remember laying in Savasana barely able to keep my eyes closed, let alone settle my breath or mind.  I made lists and plans for what I was going to do after class.  My class was over, I thought, and I was wasting precious time just laying on the floor.  In my mind, I had already moved on and quite often I was actually filled with annoyance.  ”How long had I been here and how much longer would I be?”  The minutes ticked by at a painfully slow rate.  I remember feeling frustrated that this was supposed to be so relaxing, like I was missing out on the “best part of yoga” as my friends would say.  One day, I was in class and the teacher described Savasana as a gift.  This was not the way I would describe it at all but with no immediate plans after class I thought I’d give it a try.  I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of my breath.  I heard other sounds of people breathing around me, the cars outside and the hum of the heater.  I noticed these sounds and then came back to my breath.  At first it as like a dance between two opposing forces one taking me away one leading me home to my breath.  Then something happened….I softened.  It was as simple and as complex as that.  I allowed myself to let go and breath not just to stay centered but as an offering.  Savasana shifted for me that day and through the years my relationship with that final pose has deepened.  Savasana has taught me to totally open to whatever arises.  It has become a pose where I can truly practice releasing the periphery, the limited ideas I hold for myself, and allow my true self to shine out.   Savasana has shifted from a sleepy, disconnected, unconscious time to a period of full awareness of the deepest parts of myself.  It is a gift.  A time of assimilation of the practice and a time of transition to the outer activities of my life.  …Nikki

2. Savasana,  this pose can be the only time in the day to completely relax for some people the only time ever. Your body is in sleep as your mind is alert. sleep time for me is tossing, sweating, dreaming, snoring and sometimes having conversations…but not in savasana. This is pure bliss if you allow for it. Make sure you are really warm and comfortable….Kim

3. Savasana, for some, as I have witnessed over the years,  is one of the most difficult postures  to do.   A reason some people ‘keep busy’ is to avoid awareness of what is  truly going on for them.   Which is why being quiet (sensory withdrawal) without movement can be uncomfortable, a trigger.  So what to do to get the most out of Savasana.   As a Yoga Teacher, create and hold  the intention of a safe space,  to allow the mind to feel free, not judged and focus on the breathe.  I often tell my students in that moment to give themselves “thanks”, fore it takes courage to be your true self and to honor yourselves for creating the  this time in the name of  ’yoga’.  …Stacey

4. Savasana, I like to call it the dessert of yoga practice.  The whole meal has been lovely and nourishing and the ending is so delicious.  Truly allowing a surrender into Not-Doing, into simple Being can be quite a challenge at times.  The planning, busy mind might start in with the to-do list and other concerns.  And then, the great possibility and the great relief:  as awareness recognizes the thoughts arising, we can let go of our hold on them and just let them pass by without analysis or comment and we can just rest. …Fay

5. Make sure you’re comfortable.  I know that seems redundant, but often for the sake of the pose “looking right”, people will lie down in a way that’s no fun for their low backs.  If you feel this pose in your low back, plant your feet on the mat or use blocks or a bolster under your knees to relieve any pressure. If you have trouble settling in the pose, take a minute or so to focus exclusively on your exhale.  A conscious exhalation downregulates the body, and makes it easier to settle into rest. …Pat

6. Try this experiment.  The next time you get vigorous exercise – running, going to the gym, tennis, walking, whatever it is for you, followed by your warm-down stretch – end the session with savasana.  Let this restorative, integrating savasana last for 10-15% of your total workout time (so if you swim for an hour, do savasana for 6-9 minutes.)  Observe how you feel immediately afterward, later that day, and the following day.  Does it feel different than usual?…Mid

7. I’ve heard it referred to as the most challenging of the yoga postures and for me personally this is true. What helps me get the most out of the posture is to remember that, like all the other asanas that have come before, it’s a posture as well and therefore needs to be approached in the same way and with full attention and intention. We need to find both sthira and sukha, effort and ease, steadiness and comfort, in the pose instead of just thinking of it as the opportunity to simply relax at the end of class after all our hard work. It’s an opportunity to practice steadiness without motion while finding complete ease in the mind and body. This is the ideal balance for all asanas according to Sutra II.46 (Posture should be steady and comfortable) and Savasana gives us an opportunity to truly practice this while the body is completely still…Tam

By Qushayri  (? – 1074) English version by Michael A. Sells

When morning arose
on the star of a strong wine,
drunkenness and soberness
were the same to me.

Look below the video for a lovely commentary on the poem.

The Great Bell Chant (The End of Suffering) from R Smittenaar on Vimeo.

Here’s commentary on When Morning Arose, from  from Poetry Chaikhana.com.

Just a few simple lines here. Wine and star, drunkenness and soberness. Can they mean anything of spiritual significance?

First, we are given the image of dawn and a “star of strong wine.” In Sufi poetry, in particular, we often have the pairing of wine with a star. Imagine for a moment that you are outside at night, holding up a glass of wine, and a single bright star reflects off the edge of the glass. You’ve got the deep red of the wine, the lit rim of the glass, and the sharp point of starlight at one edge… Does this image remind you of anything? Yes, the crescent and the star that is the sacred symbol of Islam.

But Qushayri and other Sufi poets using this image are not making some superficial reference to their religious allegiance.

One way to understand this symbol is that the circle represents the world, or perhaps the individual soul. But, to be spiritually awakened, that circle must be broken open. That edge, which is the wall of separation, is broken open by the star — the light of God, enlightenment. The crescent and the star of Islam for Muslim mystics is a succinct expression of the proper relationship between the human or the worldly with the divine reality.

Turning the crescent of Islam into the edge of a glass of wine has particular meaning to Sufi mystics who often play with the illicit imagery of wine and drunkenness.

Mystics of all world traditions describe an experience of drinking a subtle, sweet, liquid-like substance in deep communion. It is variously named wine, milk, honey, amrita, ambrosia… And drinking this celestial liquid imparts a blissful ecstasy, pure contentment, giddiness, joy, loss of inhibition, physical warmth, trembling, sometimes falling unconscious, It is no wonder this state is referred to as drunkenness. This is the mystic’s drunkenness, and it doesn’t come from a bottle.

And what is wine at its most basic level? It is fermented juice. It is juice with life in it. Without fermentation the wine is just juice. Fermentation is the fiery, alchemical process that invites life into the liquid. It is not the liquid but the alchemical life hidden within the liquid that imparts the ecstasy of drunkenness.

The unfermented juice represents the unenlightened mind, the unenlightened world. The star is the fiery life that enters into the juice, transforming it into a drink of sacred ecstasy. Most people lose too much time gathering juice, drinking juice, forcing their juice on others, when what everyone truly thirst for is the spark of fermentation.

A mystic understands that one can have lifelong sobriety while experiencing drunkenness every day, while it’s equally possible to lose a lifetime in the bottle and never once encounter that true spark of life. Knowing this, drunkenness and soberness, what do they mean…?

…I say all this as someone who doesn’t drink alcohol.

==

Abd al-Karim ibn Hawazin al-Qushayri is from Nishapur in what is today Iran.

His “Risala ila al-sufiyya” or “Epistle to the Sufis” is widely read in Persian Sufi circles, often called the “Treatise of Qushayri” or simply “Treatise,” no other name required.

The Risala is an interwoven collection of brief essays on Sufism and mystical experience, accented with anecdotes, sayings, and poetry. Its insight, clarity, and readability make it one of the most respected and studied early works on the Sufi way.

==

Here’s what I mean, and here’s how the transition began for me…

When I first started yoga I was a veteran of endurance sports with strong, hard muscles and a severely injured knee. I could barely get into many of the poses, but I took them on as a challenge, muscling myself into their geometry as best as I could. I wanted my body to be more flexible and I pushed it hard to get there. This approach had worked for me as an athlete, more or less.

So several times a week I dodged work for an hour or so to do yoga at a chichi yoga studio next door to my office. My body begrudgingly grew more flexible and as an unexpected side-effect I also became calmer. The formula of yoga seeped into my cells like a healthy poultice: root to the ground, align the body, and stretch. It seemed remarkable to me then, and it still does.

But I was also intrigued by yoga’s reported spiritual dimension, and so I began to read its core text – Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. The very first words of the book sounded a gong for me. Citta vritti nirodhah – yoga’s goal is to calm the mind. More calm seemed like a good thing to me, and these opening words accorded perfectly with my own experience of the poses so far. Moreover the beautifully onomatopoetic Sanskrit captured my ear. Besides being an honest reporter about yoga’s effects, I thought, whoever wrote these lines was an artist with language.

So I kept doing the poses and started supplementing them with pranayama. This very simple system of breath control further calms the mind, and I discovered that I could use it to manipulate my emotions and energy levels. My characteristically anxious mind continued to calm down, and sometimes in the relative stillness of my pranayama practice I experienced a new sense of what it could mean to be me.

This became the pattern during my first few years of doing the poses and breathing exercises. I kept having this same experience: change the breath or the shape of the body, and the mind follows along. I kept working on my body and my breath, knowing that my mind would also benefit.

Recently a wholly new dimension has begun to appear. To me it feels as though I’ve learned to turn the kaleidoscope on end and started looking through the eye-hole, the way it was designed to be used.

The  style of yogaI prefer (“Iyengar” yoga) emphasizes focusing the mind on the particulars of the posture or the breath. When you’re working in a pose or breathing pattern, you rivet your attention to the parts of the body it affects. Each exercise touches myriad parts of your body (arguably it subtly touches every part, our fibers being so thoroughly interwoven). To perform the exercise is to conduct a symphony, where every instrument with its own beautiful note to play must be heard and harmonized with the others.

What I have begun to experience lately is that this exercise of focusing the mind on the body seems to illuminate a whole new dimension of myself. This is a hard experience to render clearly in writing. A word like “soul”, “spirit” ,“life-force“ or “Self” would come in handy if I could define it well and strip away the religious connotations.

Here’s a try: when I do these exercises, I experience a deeper and more essential dimension of my existence. I perceive an aspect of being alive that underlies my thoughts and even my feelings. I experience it as the very undergirding of my conscious mind and sensate body. When I focus my mind on the actions of my body, I now seem to glimpse from the corner of my eye the undergirding of my consciousness.

So here’s the larger pattern. In my first years of doing yoga I discovered that practicing with my body calmed my mind. Now I’m discovering that practicing with my mind illuminates my deeper dimensions. This is a remarkable symmetry of scale, demonstrating the same pattern as I drill deeper and deeper. Practicing at one level seems to throw a new light on the next level down. It’s like carrying a flashlight down a flight of stairs – you always see a little bit deeper than where you are.

This is a wonderful downwardly descending spiral – or upwardly ascending, depending on your point of view. With every few steps or years that I tread, some new and interesting discovery emerges from the shadows. Meanwhile, the benefits continue to accrue and the grosser levels: my body keeps getting more flexible; my mind grows more calm and focused.

All the while, this deeper Self (or soul, use whatever word has meaning for you) comes into clearer and clearer view. As though I were peering into a magical kaleidoscope, its colorful crystalline patterns refract a gentle light from somewhere else.

Now that I can see them, I find myself I wondering what those little crystals are made of.

Can I get closer  to them? How would they taste?