Waterfalls sound like the Universe

Tags

Aum, chanting, Nature, Om, resonance, universal sounds, waterfalls, White noise

The resonant sound we make when we chant “Aum/Om” is exactly the same frequency, vibration and sound as the white noise generated by a waterfall.

How do I know this?

Because I may or may not have spent an inordinate amount of time singing to the water, the rocks, the earth, the air and the sun. At the top of those falls.

It really, really, IS the same sound.

~ Svasti

Other posts inspired by my retreat

• Writing retreat report: I’m back!
• An ode to Snake Gully
• Writing a book is a topsy-turvy thing
• Life lessons from managing a fireplace

Partying on with some integration #reverb10

Tags

#reverb10, Awareness, bhakti, bliss, Body integration, chanting, dirty rotten hippie, heart chakra, kirtan, Mark Whitwell, Meditation, party, Presence, Sanskrit, Shadow Yoga, Vahni, Yoga

Almost at total catch up point now! Today’s been a weird day that involved a grown woman – at least ten years older than me – throwing a fully fledged tantrum in the work place. I can’t tell you how befuddling I find that!

Unfortunately I also find such things a little stressful, and with stress comes my good friend Anxiety. Let me tell you that anxiety blows. And this close to Christmas, it’s the last thing I need!

Anyhoo! On with the #reverbing!!

Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.
~ December 9 prompt

Go ahead, call me a dirty rotten hippie if you must but my idea of an awesome time is a night of kirtan – that’d be a Sanskrit word meaning something like chant/sing the glory/repeating.

And generally kirtan involves repetitive singing/chanting of a stanza or two – usually also in Sanskrit – sung over and over with varying degrees of intensity pretty much til your heart bursts open in joy, sitting on a cushion in a small crowd of like-minded souls, singing and later sipping chai, copping a hug or two and looking forward to the next one.

The end result is usually some form of ooey-gooey loved up state of being, having been hit by the bliss machine and feeling like a million bucks, plastered with the widest smile you’ve been wearing all week.

I know some people aren’t into kirtan because they think chanting the names of gods and goddesses they don’t believe in is somehow hokey. But the beauty of Sanskrit is that the words themselves have a vibrational quality. Simple repetition of these sounds and letting your singing voice come from the heart (not your head or your throat) creates an incredible heart chakra opening. It doesn’t really matter what the words mean!

Earlier this year, one of our group decided to have a kirtan party for her birthday. So a whole bunch of us gathered to eat wholesome pot luck yogic-type food, drink chai and chant for hours on end.

The party was held at a beautiful place called Prana House, upstairs on Sydney Rd on the north side of Melbourne. White drapes are the main decorations there, with incense burning and people wandering around in stocking feet. Everyone in comfy clothes, ready for a boogie!

We always start a kirtan session seated, but once the bhakti takes hold people often want to dance. And that night we certainly did! People of all ages were getting their groove on, including some very cute little munchkin yogis-in-training.

Before the night was out I’d been hugged ferociously, I’d sung my heart out and danced up a frenzy. No one was drunk; no one threw up or passed out. Everyone I met there was pleasant and happy to talk to others – no aloofness or sexual politics. Just a bunch of hippie/yogi types enjoying that expansion of love that kirtan generates…

::

Body integration. This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?
~ December 12 prompt

Let your mind rest in the practice, says my Shadow Yoga teacher.

I’d heard that one dozens of times before but didn’t really understand what she meant until recent times.

Mark Whitwell talks about the same thing in a different way – he says that asana can be your senior spiritual practice. That there is no meditation, just resting in the present moment.

I’m from a school of training that focuses on asana leading to seated meditation practice, and I still believe in the importance of an extended seated practice (starting at an hour, working up to multiple hours). BUT meditation with the same focus I described above.

As I’ve mentioned before, one of my nemesis-asana in Shadow Yoga is Vahni. I’ve been working it for the last year or so and yet it still causes me grief. These days I pretty much have it down on the left side of my body, but I regularly fall out of it on the right. Generally speaking, I fear it on some level and I know my fear contributes to how well I can do the pose.

In class a few weeks ago, I was most surprised to find myself moving fluidly into Vahni (on the left, of course). I sat back on my left heel with the right leg crossed over the left, and I discovered poise and comfort. But more than that, my mind and body were completely in this pose I’ve found challenging for so long. It was silent and calm. It was glorious!

Right then, a little voice at the back of my mind got all excited and said, Oh WOW! Look, we’re doing it, we’re doing it!!

Listening to my inner dialog caused me to fall out of the pose and land on my butt! I let loose with a hearty chuckle as I hit the floor.

As my Guru often says – the moment when you’re telling yourself that you’ve “got” something is actually when you don’t. There is nothing to attain or point to, we only need to come naturally to that state of pure presence and awareness. It can’t be forced.

It was a great teaching for me as a student and as well as for teaching others. Finding that sort of presence in asana practice (and not just meditation) isn’t easy to grasp. But what it showed me is how often I am NOT in that state while I practice asana, and that’s just a wasted opportunity.

The other thing I realised is the ease with which I can perform asana I’m otherwise a little frightened of in that state – a meditative mind isn’t providing confidence exactly, just a state of openness where anything is possible if you let it be just as it is…

No struggle. No drama.

~Svasti

Gettin’ in the groove

Tags

beginners luck, Big Scary Idea, chanting, Depression, fraud, groove, Heart, in the zone, Meditation, pranayama, PTSD, teacher training, Yoga, Yoga In Daily Life, Yoga teacher, yoga teacher groove

Anahata Om Mani Padme Hum - by Gabriela Pomplova

Had quite the magnificent day yesterday. Can you guess why? Well, in part it’s down to some glorious sunshine-y Spring weather and then, uhhh, I’ve been talking an awful lot about yoga lately, haven’t I?

*grins*

Might’ve also mentioned in a recent post that I’ve been having a little trouble fully getting into yoga teacher mode.

Honestly, it’s been quite confronting for me to step up to the front of the room. The practice classes we did in teacher training were very helpful, and then teaching the volunteer classes has considerably increased my comfort level.

BUT it’s important for me to remember that really, this time last year I was still struggling with depression. I’d rather narrowly overcome to desire to end my own life (this is despite being in yoga teacher training!) and it was only around February 2009 that I’d found a release from the torment of PTSD.

Thing is, that some of those patterns of behaviour stuck around even as I started to feel much better. And they’ve been quite difficult to kick. Because I’ve spent the last five or so years trying to make myself small (tough job when you’re as tall as I am!) and invisible. I’ve grown accustomed to not making eye contact, and avoided drawing attention to myself. It’s how I got through all those years of mind-bendingly awful times. It still feels safe to try to be small and unnoticed, you see.

BUT…

As yoga teacher training progressed, it dawned on me (doh!) that I’d have to stand up at the front of the room, having all eyes on me and talk people through a yoga class. I also realised I’d have to make eye contact and possibly even physical contact with people I didn’t know!

So my very first attempts at leading a yoga class were hilarious (in retrospect). My voice wobbled all over the place. I couldn’t think of what to say to help transition someone from one asana to the next.

I felt like a fraud.

Who did I think I was, trying to be a yoga teacher? Such a Big Scary Idea!

The feeling of being a fraud has stayed with me, even though there’s plenty of evidence to the contrary. Sure, I organised my volunteer classes – and believe me it took a LOT of effort to make ’em happen.

But I found myself skimping on preparation time! It was as if I was scared of what it might mean if I was very organised and well-rehearsed. Kinda like I was setting myself up to fail (allowing me to continue to believe I am indeed a fraud!).

Funny thing happened though – somehow I pulled off those under-prepared classes anyway! I still seemed to know what to do and what to say. Of course, because I hadn’t done proper preparation, I told myself that I was still faking it. Perhaps, I’d whisper to myself, I’d just had beginners luck?

Friday night I was terrified as I prepared my lesson plan for Saturday’s class. I started on it late, procrastinating. Which meant I stayed up late to finesse it, making sure I knew exactly what I was doing.

Why all the preparation this time, huh? I was VERY excited to be teaching at Yoga in Daily Life – which is a traditional-style yoga school, akin to my own training. There’s no issue with adding in chanting, meditation or pranayama… that’s just how the school does things anyway (little skip of joy from me!).

There was a small but respectable turn out of five people – one of whom had seen a tweet I’d sent out about the class and came along based on that (cool, eh?).

And there were a few moments in the class where I noticed something… a change in myself. But was it really even a change? It’s hard to say. However, the second I paid attention to it, I almost panicked and lost the yoga teacher groove it seems I’d entered. So I had to relax and let go again… just let it all unfold and stop thinking too much. Just do. Just like with asana.

What happened as a result was this: Some of my students had conditions or injuries they confided in me about. Another asked me a question about the “popping” noise of the joints, which I fluidly replied to. My instructions for asana were smooth, confident sounding and well… a little inspired at times (where DO some of those words come from, eh?). I timed the class very well, and also added five minutes extra on the end to fit in a little more sitting.

The class went VERY, VERY WELL!

As we finished and I chatted to the students, I was amazed as they thanked me for the class. You see, I’m still at the point in my teaching where I feel like thanking them for turning up! Hehehe!

And as I was packing and locking up (after a little impromptu private practice in the empty studio), I found myself both grinning and leaking tears.

I then spent most of the day feeling all joyous and smiley and just… in the zone. What zone is that, anyway??

Well. I think I’ve worked it out… as I taught, my mind wasn’t in charge of the words I was saying… instead, they were flowing from the heart!

This must be something experienced yoga teachers get used to, but I think it was really the very first time for me today. Or at least, the first time I really noticed it and let the flow just do its thing.

I feel so very blessed.

And today I’m going to visit my sweet little nieces. Have a fabulous day everyone!

~Svasti xo

Yoga Or Die

Tags

Autumn, carbon-based bipeds, Change, chanting, Chogyam Trungpa, Crazy Wisdom Dude, emptiness, gap-world, Love, Meditation, Melbourne, pas de deux, seasons, spaciously vacant, Summer, Yoga, Yoga Or Die

Summer is phasing in and out, performing its pas de deux with Autumn as Melbourne heads back at a leisurely pace into it’s grey wintry world. For the long haul. A blast of cooler air here. Dazzling sun rays streaking through a gap in the clouds looking like one of those paintings where the Big Man In the Sky talks to the people on Earth. A sudden downpour, followed by warmth and humidity reminiscent of early January. The flowers and leaves changing. Darker mornings and a lessened desire to get out of bed as a result.

In this world, I’m finding my feet more and more. And my balance and inversions, too. And discovering that for me at least, there’s no other choice. It’s a little bit like Yoga Or Die. Sure, we’re all dying anyway – don’t you know that the main cause of death is birth? But for me in this life there’s little else that’s important, so it seems.

Sure, there’s my teachers and family and friends and books and dancing and music. But I’m not that enamoured of fashion, eating in fancy restaurants, big cars, having the most toys or anything else. Go ahead and mock my lack of a fancy new flat screen TV if you like, I’ll just giggle at the supposed importance of that inanimate ‘must have’ object or anything else you think my life is lacking.

A simple life seems to bring me more than enough contentment. As long as there’s yoga and chanting, beautiful colours and poetry, candles and easy access to gorgeous natural surrounds then I’m pretty much all good. And hey, is there anything I can do for you? Anything that you need? Being of service fits in right alongside my simple needs, too.

I know that I’ve been a little slack on the frequency of my posts lately. There’s been my recent spate house guests and also, dropping into what that Crazy Wisdom Dude (aka Chogyam Trungpa) called “gaps”.

Yeah, it’s a little weird in here right now and any time I find out that that’s where I am, I have to remember the secret of functioning effectively here before anything else is possible (P.S. one of the key ingredients is LOVE). But more often than not, I find in that kind of space I don’t feel like doing anything in particular. Not even writing, much as I love and rely on it at other times. Much as I’ve got lots to say and plenty of draft pieces lying in wait.

And I know I’m sitting in one of those gaps when my thoughts turn to the complete beauty and yet utter pointlessness of everything. Not in a depressive frame of mind – I’ve had plenty of that and I can tell you this is WAY different. In fact, these days I suspect that some of those episodes of depression were in fact, gap-flavoured. Maybe that’s how some of them started off in the first place?

Because the thing about gap-world is that it feels starkly empty and spaciously vacant. And more often than not, that makes carbon-based bipeds with a tendency towards awareness feel rather neurotic or anxious or both. What’s wrong with me? we ask… (The answer, actually, is “Nothing”. But we rarely believe such home-spun truths).

And so we try to work out how to fill all that space instead of just letting it be.

But if you can keep your hands and your thoughts to yourself, it’s a bit of a free-fall at first, and quite terrifying. Kind of like falling asleep in the way we renounce control of our faculties (which is also said to be similar to the change of the guard when we die) except that we’re awake. Awake and yet not anywhere in particular. But of course that can be frightening!

Slowly, like Autumn’s certain advance, I find I begin to notice this emptiness is in fact not empty at all. It’s just a world apart from the usual busy day to day-ness of most of the rest of the time. And it’s not so scary afterall.

All the spaciousness that characterises gap-world is like an extended meditation where nothing is the focus and nothing is the result. However, it does leave room for an expansion of sorts. More often than not what I notice is the size of my heart. It feels like it’s grown at least as big as my entire body, if not larger.

And it speaks it’s very own language as it generates waves of love and compassion for everything in this world, including myself…

~Svasti