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

Blowing up the Death Star

Tags

Achilles heel, bogey men, Brutalised, Death Star, defiled, Depression, flower offerings, gravitational field, gut instincts, Incense, jasmine, light therapy treatment, Mantra, Meditation, nurturing, PTSD, Sanskrit, self-love, Skywalker, space junk, Star Wars, supta virasana, Trauma, use the force, yellow daisies

It was something about my face…of course, that’s where most of the physical damage was caused. And so, after leaving work on Thursday I did something that wasn’t particularly logical, all things considered.

I found myself at a beauty salon, wanting some kind of facial treatment. It was money I didn’t really have or intend to spend, but I didn’t even think about it like that.

Ended up getting a peel and they also suggested this light therapy thing. Didn’t know what it was, but it sounded good.

You look like you’re in need of a pick-me-up, the therapist slowly scanned my face and eyes.

Yep… [and I’m REALLY trying not to cry].

I did though, but not while she was in the room.

Somehow my instincts knew this was a good idea. Someone soothing my face with beautiful products and massaging my skin while delicate music was piped into the room. Low lighting and glorious aromas. An oasis in the middle of the city, a level up from one of the busiest intersections in town (not that you’d have known it).

She finished with the peel and prepped me for the light therapy treatment. Little goggles on my eyes. Something positioned over my head.

It’s really, bright. It takes a moment to get used to it. I’ll turn on one light first, then the other.

Soooo bright, yep, she wasn’t lying. Although my eyes were tightly closed nothing was black – instead everything glowed golden-red. And after a few moments I thought that this is probably what consciousness is like when we’re no longer limited to a human form. Everything as one, so very luminous. It wasn’t scary, just really relaxing.

Later I cried some more while I dressed – me with my smooth new skin that felt and looked wonderful. Sure I was a little shiny, but I was going straight home so what did I care.

I cleaned my practice room – vacuumed and dusted. I read these posts by Nadine and Kerry – which were incredibly timely (thanks gals!). I cried a whole bunch more as I snipped yellow daisies (I think?) and jasmine from the bushes outside my apartment.

My yoga practice was very simple – some breathing and then a supported supta virasana (although with the bolster further away from my lower back so I could tilt my pelvis forward more than the woman in this picture).

This pose always feels like hell when I first lie back, but once I relax it generates the most open and joyous feeling – the supported version is awesome if you’re feeling fragile!

Then I felt more open in both the hips and the heart. It was time for my practice which involves a series of chants and prayers in Sanskrit, and generating love, gratitude, compassion and wonder. Some incense and flower offerings, mantra repetitions and then… sitting. Just sitting in meditation for as long as I needed to.

My altar, adorned with flowers

There’s a bunch of structured or form-based meditations I’ve learned, but that’s not what I needed just then. So I just sat, following my breath and listening to my body, relaxing deeply. I think I sat there for around an hour.

From this place comes information. I got the face thing, then. Five years ago, it’d been defiled. Brutalised. And then I’d allowed it to hold my shame and fear. I’d also grown an invisible mask that covered my eyes as well as my entire face. I didn’t want people to see me. I didn’t want to see them. I wouldn’t let anyone get too close, just in case they were dangerous.

But now I’d begun reversing all of that with a symbolic gesture of self-love and nurturing (gotta love those gut instincts).

Then I noticed a whole bunch of energy rising up in waves from my stomach to my heart. Many layers. Hello, Fear. Hi, Despair. What’s up, Grief? How-dee-do, Shock? Each one reaching upwards, evaporating and integrating and no longer weighing a tonne in my belly.

I’ve never really told anyone this: my meditation practice suffered a great deal when all of this went down. I stopped for the longest time and felt terrible about it. But how could I meditate when those things could happen to me?

It took a long, long time to regain that ground.

The problem most of the time was relaxing (impossible to meditate if you’re tense!) and closing my eyes (which made sleeping quite tricky), because behind closed eyes was where all the scary stuff lurked.

Which is why the whole light therapy treatment thing was SUCH an extra amazing piece of synchronicity because that light – so warm and golden – blasted away any last possible dark hiding place.

See? No bogey men here!!

So I continued sitting and breathing until I felt like all the shackles I’d built up were undone. At least right at that moment anyway. I did some closing chants, extinguished the candles and slept deeply. Dreamlessly.

I felt… much better. Calm, and perhaps still fragile but MUCH better.

I’d never before felt the pull of this date or tied any meaning to it. September 29^th has not once been circled in my calendar and I’ve never held on to it as a marker of what happened. Perhaps because I was trying to forget, I’m not really sure.

BUT this time around I wasn’t allowed to let it pass by (thanks tiny but accurate voice of intuition!) and I think that MAYBE… this is truly the beginning of my freedom.

Maybe it’s time – maybe I’m ready to no longer think of myself in relation to what happened, y‘know?

I suspect that to be able to say I am truly healed; this thing that happened has to become unimportant to who I now am. It can’t be a reference point for everything that happens moving forward and I can’t continue to orbit around it like it’s the center of my being.

Sure, for a long time that’s exactly how it felt. Like I was just space junk held in the gravitational field of the Death Star (i.e. the trauma, the PTSD, the depression, the memories of What Happened).

And somehow, the realisation of this milestone date, and exactly how far I’ve come in that time, not to mention some timely and amazing facial treatments (including all of that LIGHT!) were the killer shot, right in the Death Star’s Achilles heel.

Just like young Skywalker, somehow I found a way to use the force and blast that sucker… totally disabling its ability to destroy anything anymore.

But… I could be wrong. Time will tell I guess. At the very least, this is the beginning of the end of it all… Just like the end of my PTSD flashbacks, I’ll wait and watch.

In the meantime, I can’t believe how much better I feel. Possibly this is akin to how my old Self felt once upon a time, not that I can remember Her too well…

But it’s been a REALLY long time since I felt this good.

~Svasti

(With apologies to those who don’t get my geeky Star Wars references!)  😉

Nothing is wrong

Tags

Change, Dancing, Depression, Exhibit A, Fear, good luck fairies, grasping, inner yogi, lila, Meditation, nothing is wrong, Panic, perceived indestructibility, preferences, Sanskrit, thin-cold fingers, uncertain, unemployment, winter solstice, wrongness, Yoga

Middle of the year and all, only days from the winter solstice (in the southern hemisphere!) and there’s a heck of a lot of shifting going on.

In fact, there always is, right? It’s just that we tend not to notice so much when it doesn’t affect us personally.

Unless of course, you take up yoga, meditation or dancing or some other kind of activity that helps us uncover our sensitivity and connection to the world. Even then, it can be a little hit and miss, depending on how self-involved we are on any given day.

And even then, only if we learn to divest ourselves of attachments to this interaction of interconnected energies. The thing we call life. Because it’s the attachment to emotions, the rules of the game, our form and/or how we perceive others are perceiving us (for example), that keep us tethered to the rule book.

In Sanskrit, the word lila is used to describe life, but it actually translates back into English as ‘play’. The play of life.

Been getting a little freaked out in the last couple of weeks because the contract job I’m doing right now is finishing up at the end of the month. On the 25th to be exact. No extensions are being offered because the company is itself, going through a bunch of transformations.

Like unwelcome acupressure applied directly to the heart, I can taste just a hint of panic rising as the days of June tick by.

My freak out isn’t so much about things ending, as the reasonable possibility that I’ll be out of a job. Again. With two weeks to go, I still don’t have a job, or any interviews lined up. And yes, I’ve been doing everything I can!

And the soul-crippling depression and fear I experienced last year during four months of unemployment is attempting to creep its way back into the pit of my stomach like thin-cold fingers of smoke, grasping at my throat and whispering horror stories from back then.

Of course, I’m talking to a bunch of recruiters and have a several leads to follow up. But nothing is definite yet. Although, as I said to a recruiter I spoke to the other day – when is any job ever definite or secure?

Regardless, a dozen plans have taken up residence in my mind, attempting to allay any potential panic but actually, has led to a great deal of thrashing around as a result. Not so helpful!

But I’m waging a war against such uncertainties, because certainty really is so entirely uncertain. Is it not? We’d like to pretend otherwise, but our fragility and mortality are much closer to the edge of our perceived indestructibility than we think.

Clarity came again one night about a week ago as I took in a sweeping panoramic view of my life as it stands. I calculated how quickly I’ll run out of money this time around (really soon!) if I don’t get a job in a hurry. And considered how I might possibly avoid falling into the same black pit as last time.

But all of these thoughts were based on the premise that something in my life was wrong. Until that moment, I was pretty convinced of the wrongness of not having a job, wielding last year’s experience as Exhibit A. Those four months of unemployment were bad, according to the judgemental little voice in my mind.

Luckily, that judge-voice isn’t the only one speaking provocative ideas inside my head! The next question (proposed I think, by my inner yogi self) was: But what if nothing is really wrong at all?

It went on: The upset we feel when things go “wrong” is often more disturbing than the perceived wrongness itself. And we combine it with the situation we’ve proclaimed as wrong or bad, creating a seemingly insurmountable wall of stress. But really, is anything actually wrong?

For now, I’ve come down on the side of my inner yogi.

Nothing is inherently wrong, regardless of my preferences. Even if I don’t get a job again for months, and even if that means I can’t go on retreat in October (as per my current plans). Even if I have to get a flatmate or move out of my current place and sell most of my possessions. Even if I end up homeless, there’s still not actually anything wrong. It’s just life in action, and my response to those things is something I’m in charge of.

That doesn’t mean I won’t do everything I can to get a job. Of course I will!

My inner yogi wanted to know this, too: Can I apply this idea to any situation? To the BP oil spill? To the death of a child? To natural disasters? To the two year old child in Indonesia addicted to smoking?

Perhaps. I think it’s more truthful to admit that I’m not there yet, but working on it!

To say that nothing is inherently wrong doesn’t mean we don’t care when life gets shitty. We don’t stop participating in life. But we do learn to see the greater interplay of existence. The flow and play of life.

And this blog post represents my attempt to relax into that flow and accept whatever is coming my way, responding appropriately but doing everything I can to avoid falling into a pit of despair should life not go the way I want it to…

~Svasti

P.S. If you find any good luck fairies, please send them my way, stat! 😉

The Workshop of Love – part 1

Tags

anahata, anja, Asana, breathing, Heart of Yoga, Intimacy, Love, maniacal grinning, Mark Whitwell, Sanskrit, strength receiving, ujjayi, Valentine’s Day, Yoga, yoga asana

Yoga is your direct intimacy with reality, which is nothing other than nurturing, abundance, continuity and healing…

I was almost late on account of the ridiculous parking situation but I made it, and walked as quickly as I could without running, hoping I wasn’t the last one to arrive. A guy was standing in the doorway of what I assumed was the yoga studio, and the very first thing I noticed was how darn tall he was. And let me tell you, it’s not easy to make me to feel short. Then I noticed his long gray hippie hair falling way past his shoulders. But nanoseconds later, I was compelled to pay attention to his eyes, as he gently but persistently sought eye contact with me.

Hi… It’s almost as though he was laughing as he spoke. I was just trying to get through the door, which he was almost entirely standing in front of with his broad, lanky frame.

Oh, hi… I’m generally shy when I first meet people and find I try to shrink in the corner a bit. And I finally realised (or recognised, after all I did make a flier with his photo on it – see above) that this was Mark Whitwell and he wasn’t having any of that!

I managed to drop the eye contact and sidle past him into a sea of yogins in a windowless room. Lots of people. There was Nadine, our first real-life in-person meeting. After a quick hug, she patted a name tag onto my left boob and I turned around to discover the only spot left for my yoga mat was center stage at the front of the room. Not exactly the easiest spot from which to play the wallflower.

This was Mark’s Heart of Yoga two day workshop over the Valentine’s Day weekend in February of this year. And I was about to discover there was no shrinking or hiding here. Quite the opposite in fact (and please excuse this rather tardy review, in which I won’t be able to cover everything we talked about and did in twelve hours, but I’ll do my best).

There is nothing to attain! There is no such thing as enlightenment, only Life in you as you. No need to realize God when God has realized you. It is intimacy you want and it is freely given. It is the search that is the problem. Looking for something presumes its absence. As long as we strive for a higher reality, the looking implies this life is a lower reality…

We started off slowly, with a bit of discussion. Mark asked Nadine to explain to everyone (most of the people in the room were yoga teachers) why she’d made exhaustive efforts to organise the weekend and bring him to Melbourne. This flowed into a discussion with others that had attended teachings with Mark before. It was both incredibly yogic, and yet a little confusing. I’d never been to a yoga workshop that started with a big ol’ chat like this before, and it was way cool.

Eventually we got around to discussing the principals of “strength receiving” (see this post for more info) and we began to move. And breathe. But the Krishnamacharya-style breathing (the lineage Mark is trained in) is quite different to the full yogic breath taught in almost every other school of yoga. It’s a breath (using ujjayi) into the upper chest, and an exhale from the lower abdomen drawing the belly towards the spine. (It’s better to learn this properly from a yoga teacher if possible).

I found Mark’s explanation of ujjayi breathing very helpful. Before that weekend, I always felt as though I strained my throat a bit when I did it. But the way Mark described it (…breathe from your throat, not your nostrils and make the in-breath as audible as the out-breath…) changed that.

As we moved and breathed through an asana practice, Mark asked us to notice how the strength receiving principals were occurring naturally as we moved our bodies.

The body movement IS the breath movement and the breath movement IS the body movement. We need to let the breath initiate and envelop the movement…

…If, on a daily basis, we are intimate with our own body and breath, it allows for spontaneous intimacy with others…

We all know how good it feels when we breathe deeply, right? In fact, just reading the previous sentence is enough to prompt most people to take a couple of hearty deep breaths. Intimacy with our own breath and body allows the heart to open and true intimacy with ourselves, other people and the rest of the world, to arise.

And combining the specific breathing practice with very gentle asana creates a focus on the heart chakra (anahata). It’s impossible to practice yoga like this and not radiate love!

Your whole body is breathing, praying…

Of course, being the teary-chick that I am, after this first session, I found myself silently shedding tears while we were all meant to be meditating – meditation being the natural resting place after asana practice, rather than something to struggle with or any attempt to control the mind.

But they were tears of joy.

Mark strolled around the room chanting in Sanskrit – slokas I knew, but all I could do was smile and cry. Then tap tap — the top of my head and anja chakra were being touched very gently as I continued my maniacal grinning, eyes closed and tears streaming down my face.

To be honest, I don’t think I’d felt quite as happy as I felt right then for a very long time – all from an hour’s asana practice. And it was healing.

Mark called an end to the session and I ran off to the ladies room to continue both laughing and crying in private. 😉

[Read part 2]

~Svasti

P.S. All quotes are from Mark Whitwell – his book and/or his Facebook status updates.

On becoming a yoga teacher – part 2

Tags

Asana, Guru, Hatha yoga, initiation, Love, Sanskrit, self-confidence, self-knowledge, Yoga, Yoga teacher, yoga teacher training, yoga-ish insights, Yogini

[Read part 1 first]

It’s really only been in the last five years that I’ve started to understand yoga asana more fully. But until recently, I remained very unsure of myself as a yogini.

I can’t really explain why. I think that unlike RB sticking her hand up, my tendency has always been to shrink into the corner.

Around the time I took initiation into my Guru’s lineage, I decided I wanted to deepen my knowledge and ability with asana. But it still took me a while to do something (anything) about it.

As previously mentioned my therapist H, prompted me on what I’d like my life to look like at a time where I couldn’t see fifty meters in front of me. And surprisingly I found myself telling her I wanted to be a yoga teacher. I’d never told anyone that. Not even myself!

I signed up for the Hatha Yoga Studies Certificate course instead of the Yoga Teacher Training (YTT) even though I wanted to do the latter because I still didn’t feel ready (oh ye of little faith in oneself).

But for once I felt like I was in the right forum to ask those burning questions about asana I had trouble with. After all, I’d paid for the privilege of being in a small dedicated class where it was all about breaking down each pose and working through our challenges. For once I felt okay confiding my imperfections and getting the advice I needed to resolve them.

It was heavenly! Four to five hours of yoga – practicing asana and talking theory = my idea of a good time. Oh yeah baby!

Actually, it was only by doing the course that I realised I was ready for YTT (the two courses are identical until half-way through, so it wasn’t a hassle to switch). Still, I’m not sure I would’ve switched if I hadn’t been encouraged.

I’m deeply grateful for a number of things about my YTT.

First up, it was a 500 hour course. Not that there’s anything wrong with shorter trainings, but I really liked how that extra time allowed us to delve into some of the more esoteric aspects of yoga: the sort of stuff I’ve been studying for years and really enjoy.

Secondly, the course was paced out over almost an entire year. I know of others that are completed much more quickly! Some people even asked me why the course took such a long time to complete?! BUT there’s so much information to take in, and not just trying to memorise the Sanskrit names of asanas, or perfecting your practice (you never will!) or learning a little anatomy and physiology. Becoming a yoga teacher or any kind of teacher really… is a process. And the one important thing a process needs is time – to gestate, steep, mature, transform, explore, grow.

Also, I’m so glad I did my training at a school with heart. The heart very much comes from the woman who runs the school – M. She’s a great example of a yogini who takes her yoga off the mat and into everyday life. Not only did she help out many students who struggled financially last year (including me), but she also has a habit of donating to those in need. Something that is very close to my heart. And it shows in how she treats her students, as well as the quality of people who support her and teach there.

I learned many yoga-ish things (of course) in YTT, but also discovered a bunch of insights along the way, including:

• Flow in your yoga practice comes from confidence and self-knowledge. It’s not just about understanding how to sequence your asana. You’ve got to get a feel for what your body needs. Then, it can almost look like you’re dancing.
• Teaching yoga isn’t just about standing at the front of a class and giving instructions. It’s about making sure your students get what you’re saying. And sharing your love of yoga, your experiences and insights (where appropriate) and offering challenges for students and for yourself, too. In fact, it’s about being a human being, relating to other human beings.
• Without doubt, teaching is a learning experience. A reflection on your ability to be in the moment and put aside your issues with yourself. Because it’s not about you, the teacher, and you can’t be worried about your physical appearance or anything else while you’re teaching.
• That old maxim “those who can’t do, teach” isn’t true at all for yoga (and probably many other disciplines, too). Yoga teachers must practice yoga, must understand what they are asking others to do before they can even think of approaching the front of the room.
• Then, a yoga teacher must continue to practice – it’s not like you finish your YTT and you can suddenly do every asana perfectly! Or that once a pose is perfected, it will stay that way without effort. No way!
• Becoming a yoga teacher does not automatically make someone a perfected yogi or person: there will always be something that’s hard or seemingly impossible. Yoga teachers are simply sharing the teachings in the best way they know how, which is (hopefully) always changing and growing.
• To really teach yoga, one must attempt to remain humble and open at all times. It’s not about being an authority figure!

As well as facing down my depression and PTSD, the training also made me take a look at my self-confidence. Like… when I was first asked to practice-teach a class, I was terrified. Even if I was only working with one other person!

I was afraid of listening to my own voice, to be honest. Of sounding/feeling confident in leading someone through a sequence of poses. And of feeling comfortable enough to look someone in the eye while I instructed them in how to move their body.

It felt so intimate, and that’s because it is. It’s an extremely intimate and sensitive activity and it requires you to forget about yourself. Put aside your issues and whatever negative self-talk you usually spruik. After all, how can students in your care do the same thing for themselves if you’re busy giving yourself a hard time?

Also, putting aside your ‘stuff’ creates space for miracles to occur both for the teacher and the student. Miracles of love, of being able to master physical movements that have previously been out of reach. Allowing that open space to be free of self-doubt creates possibility…

Most of all, I think I’ve learned how to make yoga practical and doable for myself and others. YTT helped bring into focus something my Guru would tell us repeatedly: yoga isn’t about perfect form; it’s about synchronising your body and mind.

I feel that the repetition YTT over the course of an entire year is what sealed it for me. The fire was stoked in the first half of the year, lit when I switched to YTT and finally, turned into a brilliant source of light, warmth and refinement.

And now it’s up to me – what will I do with that flame? What fuel will I use to keep it alight?

That’s where I stand right now: one foot firmly on this brand new path with an open heart and a desire to share…

~Svasti

Sometimes…

Tags

Dhanvantri, empowerment, Fear, Ganesha, Healing, malarkey, Prayers, Recovery, Sanskrit, Spirituality, Surrender, Transformation, Yoga, Yoga teacher

I think I’m just afraid of who I might actually be, when I’m finally done with all this being afraid malarkey.

When I allow all the knowledge I’ve learned (and continue to learn), to be grafted to the very marrow of my being.

When I’ve practiced to perfection the incredible meditations and other teachings I’ve been given. When they’re as natural as breathing – so much a part of me I don’t need to think about it.

I’m afraid of that person I’ll become.

And sometimes I think… it’s the one significant thing causing most of the pain in my life.

Even while writing this, I’m avoiding doing something else right this very moment. Something I should’ve done already and that other people are waiting for. Something that’d be good for me to do. And I will eventually, just not before I’ve put it off time and again.

Til I can’t stand it any more.

At least this time though, the distraction is much more honest, less convoluted.

I want to scream, and I want to cry and grieve. For the time I’ve spent veiling my awesome, powerful, motivated and very real Self away, and letting the freaked out junior would-be super hero run the show instead.

All so I don’t have to give up my excuses.

Of course, like that smoker who knows they need to stop, I’m not ready to give my excuses up yet. Just because I can see them for what they are, doesn’t mean I’m stopping.

I’m still enjoying the whole experience too much. It mightn’t be good for me, but it’s comfortable. And it’s what I know.

Its life-changing stuff y’know, getting the things you want most for yourself, instead of sacrificing and sabotaging your own life. At least, that’s the realisation I’m coming to.

Sunday, I was at my yoga school doing my remaining cleaning hours for the week (still need the money til I get paid the week after this one). As I cleaned, and when I wasn’t chanting various Sanskrit mantras to myself, my teacher’s recent words filled the empty room.

You see, I only signed up to do the Hatha yoga practitioner certificate this year, not the first year teacher training. Mostly because I didn’t feel like I was ready. Which, as it turns out, is just more hiding and excuses, really.

As we discussed various maintenance tasks, she turns to me and says I think you should do the teacher training. I want you to teach here and help with future teacher trainings. You’re way ahead of the others on philosophy and related topics and I think you’ve got things you can teach them.

Just like that. And yes, it’s something I want. Plus, I know I’m ready now…

There alone, sweeping the floors, I thought about standing at the front of that room and… I laughed, while I coincidentally sang the invocation to Ganesha, remover of obstacles…

Om Gananam tva / ganapating havamahe / kavinkavinam upamashravastamam / jyeshtharajam brahmanam brahmanaspata a nah / shrinvan nutibhih sida sadanam…

Yes, it’s what I want. But to get there… I’m gonna have to give up a few things I’m pretty sure I know as ‘fact’ about myself. But guess what? Apparently, all I have to do is keep going towards what I want.

The transformation will occur in the doing, not the wanting of the doing… this was the message/realisation I recieved while sweeping, singing and laughing.

Okay… so, I kept singing, this time Sri Dhanvantri’s (the lord of Ayurveda/healing) prayer. It’s my very favourite thing to chant because it resonates best I find, when you’re singing from the heart.

Om sankham chakram jaloukaam dadhad amruta gatam chaaru dorbhis chaturbhih / sookashma svachchhaati hridyaam sukha pari vilasan moulim amboja netram //

kaala ambha uda ujjjvalaangam kati tata vilasad chaaru peetaambaraadhyam / vande Dhanvantarim tam nikhila gada vana prouda daavaagni leelam //

I still have my excuses and I’m holding on tight. For now anyway. I’m not even going to attempt to break them down just yet. As long as I keep moving in the right direction, then I reckon… its all good.

~Svasti

Yoga retreat notes & good news

Tags

Depression, Happiness, Homa, Mudra, PTSD, Reincarnation, Retreat, Sanskrit, Thailand, Yagya, Yoga

Feels like an absolute age since I wrote a post, but actually it’s only been a week (didya miss me or what?).

I’m finally back home after a very wonderful break. Got in last night, actually.

And I realised, last week was the first time I’ve actually stopped doing stuff (non-stop) for six months – since I got back from Thailand.

There was the Great Job Hunt for a couple of months there… then a month of schlepping a long distance commute once I actually had a job (bus plus two trains) to work every day, from my parents’ place in Suburbia-Urbia to the city.

Then there was the house hunt, then moving, Christmas, unpacking for a good two months and finally… a week of bliss, hanging with some of my very good friends, studying things I like studying. Ahhhhh…

There, in a large double story house in western Sydney, we had little to do but hang out together, focus on our studies, meditate, do yoga, cook, eat and swim. Very relaxing…

Did I mention I was surrounded by people who love me? People who’ve known me for years, fellow students of my Guru? [grins]

So, besides relaxing, what did I accomplish? Well…

• I’m now confident, when faced with a page full of transliterated Sanskrit, that I can pronounce (most of) what I see. I can break it down, sound it out and figure out how it goes together. I can work out the meter it’s chanted in too, for the most part. I even know the meaning of a bunch of said Sanskrit words.
• I can perform puja with sixteen upacaras (offerings). I’m not 100% brilliant yet… but well on the way.
• Not to mention yagyas/homas (fire ceremony) – especially with my brilliant new sruk and srva (offering implements) carved from Jack fruit and all the way from Bali (brought back by one of my friends). They’re cool – the sruk is ‘female’ and the srva is ‘male’ (photos to come).
• Oh! And you should see my mudras (ritual hand gestures)! I mean, really!! We learned around twenty or so… and lemme tell ya, it aint easy. Fingers are generally pretty stiff (mudras are yoga for fingers) and given my entirely undiagnosed dyslexia… well, when you’re trying to work out which finger connects with another… hmmm, it can be challenging. But by the last day, I’d finally conquered ‘denhu’ mudra (cow mudra) – the most complex of the lot!
  And before you ask, photos of mudras will be later this week…

Now, for the news!

Then, while I was up there, only logging on once a day or so to check emails… I got the email I’d been waiting for.

I was accepted into a certificate level Hatha Yoga Practitioner training course!

Hooray!!

The course can be done as a one year certificate, but it’s also the first year of a two year Advanced Yoga Teacher Training course.

So, it’s a step towards my goal of attaining yoga teacher qualifications, which is important in a number of ways.

Ideally I want out of working in my current industry. Actually, I’d be happy if I could do that part-time and then teach yoga and belly dancing part-time as well.

There was a time, many years ago now… where I made a decision. I abandoned my hippie/arty lifestyle in favour of earning some decent money. I’d struggled on not much money for a long time and bit the bullet.

It was the beginning of working in the corporate world. A place I never felt very comfortable, but which afforded me all kinds of opportunities – study, travel, and finding my way into my current line of work.

I’m part way there, having left the realm of the corporate world (with no plans to return); I’m now working in small business as a consultant.

But having emerged from the worst (I hope so anyway) of my depression and the deathly grip of PTSD flashbacks… I want to make another choice.

Happiness.

I want happiness. I want to do work that speaks to my heart and soul, and that’s aligned with my spiritual path. I want to love my job, not just like or tolerate it.

Because I’m tired. Of doing things for other people, putting my own needs second to other things and people. Y’see, if I’m happy, then I can serve others so much better!

Life isn’t meant to be so hard. We create our own suffering, feeling we ‘have’ to do certain things. Because society, family or friends expect us to. Because we’re told that’s how life is.

Well, I say screw that.

My theme for 2009 (if I had such a thing, and I don’t really) is something like taking the reins. Taking control, cutting through the bullshit, and bringing more peace and joy into my life.

Coz damn, regardless of whether there’s such a thing as reincarnation, we only ever live one life at a time.

I’m determined to be of service to others, to bring my external and internal worlds into alignment.

And regardless of whether anyone else is, I’m planning on being proud of the life I’ve led…

~Svasti

Emphasis

Tags

Diacritics, Mother Goddess, Puja, Sanskrit, Sri Chakra Yantra, Tantra, Worship, Yoga

Helloooo from the house of our Pandit, where day one of our training is now complete. Its almost 9.30pm and as such, almost time for bed (on account of the fact we tend to get up real early in retreat mode). Somewhere between 5.30 & 6am).

Today’s schedule was to drill our understanding of Sanskrit and correct pronunciation.

And something that’s very important is emphasis. As in, a word can look the same in diacritics (English transliteration of Sanskrit letters) but if there’s a little symbol of some kind over or under a particular letter, that changes everything.

So, there needs to be some careful attention paid to such symbols, to ensure, for example… you don’t end up calling someone a prostitute instead of referring to their nose. I’m not kidding!

A little bit like how misunderstandings can occur between people using what we think is straightforward language… awareness and consideration are always useful skills to possess in order to avoid such mistakes…

Once we’d drilled letters and sounds and the alphabet all morning, we spent the afternoon chanting a number of sacred texts – things we use in our yoga practice anyway, but now have much greater understanding of and control over how we pronounce them.

The end of the day was interesting… we went to the local Hindu temple, which is actually a Sri Lankan Saivite temple (dedicated to Shiva – which is our linneage as well). It was a juicy puja – the hair where it attaches to my scalp has only just stopped tingling… several hours after we got back, actually.

They were performing a (very Tantrik) Sri Chakra Yantra ritual – which is about the worship of a living, married and happy woman as an incarnation of the Mother Goddess, for the benefit of all beings.

Thing I love about this stuff, is not just the worshipping of women, but that worship is considered an art form, personal and individual. Ya gotta feel it!

There’s no preaching, and beyond a few guidelines, there’s no set way of performing any Tantrik puja. There’s a freedom there, to commune with God/god as you see fit (or not).

And in my estimation, that’s how it should be.

Namaste…

~Svasti

Five sleeps…

Tags

Ceremony, Homa, Meditation, Namaste, Puja, Pujari, Ritual, Sanskrit, Sydney, Vedic chanting, Worship, Yoga, Yogini

As rough as things have been lately, up and down and round the freakin’ bend… I am, I’ll admit, feeling a little excited.

In just five more sleeps (including tonight’s – and yeah, I really shoulda been in bed a couple of hours ago), I’ll be back in my beloved Sydney.

As I might’ve mentioned in another post, in my experience, it’s not so much places as people that feel like home. Yet… some places seem more like home than others… and Sydney was like that for me when I moved there at the tender age of twenty-one. It’s also where the majority of my closest friends live.

I’m heading north on Saturday to complete some pujari training. And what’s that, I hear some of you asking?

Well, puja is a Sanskrit word referring to the act of worship. Ceremony. Ritual. And Hindu rituals are both intricate and beautiful. Truly. And full of gorgeous meaning and intent.

A pujari then, is someone who can complete puja. This level of training is for personal puja only. Later training might include being able to perform puja for other people, too.

By the way, in this context worship, although it appears to external… is really a way of projecting our own divinity outwards, where we can see it. We make offerings, worship and show love and devotion to our divine Self. Then, at the end of a puja, we draw that essence back into our heart.

Beautiful, don’t ya think?

We’ll be staying at the home of our favourite Brahmin priest – a good friend of my Guru’s in fact – who’ll try and knock some form into our puja. He’ll also be teaching us a little more Sanskrit, Vedic chanting, puja theory, homa practice (fire ceremony) and more.

Of course, there’ll be plenty of yoga and meditation going on too!

And if there’s any down time, guess we’ll be jumping in the backyard pool.

Nice, eh?

It will be very rejuvenating, spending time amongst my fellow Aussie yogis and yoginis. Most of them I haven’t seen since August last year. But a couple of others I haven’t seen for a year or two.

All very wonderful for a yogini who, for the most part, practices alone. And, I’ve always had an affinity with ritual – so its all good for me.

So anyways, posts could be a little light on this week and I won’t be back home til 1^st Feb. There’s plenty of half-finished posts, so if I get the chance I’ll sneak one out before I leave.

A big Namaste to you all…

P.S. Don’t worry about Miss Cleo the cat – a good friend will be house-sitting and making sure she’s fed and given plenty of attention.

~Svasti

Why I have a Guru – part 2

Tags

blog award, Guru, Linda's Yoga Journey, Runes, Sanskrit

It’s a while since I wrote part 1 of this series. And to be honest, it was possibly just a tad ranty. But only a little (okay, I’m still apologising over that one…) and well, I still meant most of what I wrote – behind the anger (which was related to other things going on right then).

Anyway, it’s a brand new year (hooray!), and I’ve been handed another lovely blog award by Linda’s Yoga Journey (my humble thanks!).

Plus, I seem to have levelled out a little from last week’s meltdown, and hopefully I’ll handle any future episodes with a little more style. Hopefully.

So. Let me backtrack to the start of this particular story. The year was 1998.

Seeking…?

Actually, I never meant to have a Guru. I wasn’t seeking one out. I had no idea they existed up til the time I met mine. And even then it took me a few years.

There are people who are dubious of Gurus. And well, to make this story appear all the more dubious – he’s not Indian. He’s a white man. An American too, for good measure. And yeah, he uses a funny Sanskrit name.

So do I, these days…

Not that I knew any of that at the time… I was there for the runes.

Oh yeah – I have a long history of searching, my whole life really. Not knowing what I was looking for. And it led to a whole bunch of experiences in the ‘pagan’ community. You name it – I’ve possibly been into it at one point or another.

Actually, Anthroyogini wrote a fabulously funny post, letting rip on her early ‘spiritual pursuits’. I laughed hard when I read it because I have plenty of my own foolish stories (in a post coming soon-ish).

Anyways, I’d been learning a Norwegian runic system for about a year and a half – a really interesting oral tradition of runes as an oracle, mythology, martial arts, healing, breathing practices, trance work and a whole bunch more.

So the guy I’d been learning from (referred to in this post as my ex, A) says – the dude who taught me this stuff is gonna be in town and will be running a two day workshop. You should come along. And so I did.

Walls of glory

I stayed at the house of my rune teacher, and we drove to a beautiful part of northern Sydney, surrounded by nature and spitting distance from some of the most glorious beaches in the country.

We arrived at a split level home surrounded by trees, entering a few minutes late via the bottom level.

Finding a spot to sit, I noted walls plastered almost floor to ceiling with the most amazing pictures I’d ever seen. Iridescent people, with eyes you could stare into for eons. Incredibly intricate and emotive images I could sort of associate with all things Indian. The room itself was alive.

Its here I meet my Guru for the first time, in his own home. He is my rune teacher’s teacher. That moment of introduction was innocuous, I can’t recall it exactly…

I do remember clearly, however, when he started talking.

The topics were runes, mythology and rune carving (below is a photo of the set I carved that weekend).

If I’m very honest with myself, I was captivated from the first word.

But who was this 6’3″ tall, cocky yet humble, loud but gentle, funny, intense, wise and knowing American with the New York accent? I still had no idea.

I felt enchanted, and strangely attracted to this man talking to us about Norse history, layers of meaning associated with runes and cross-referencing to the mythology.

He seemed to like my questions, and my attempts at discussing various topics. I just really liked listening to him speak.

By the end of the second day, I was floating on some kind of bliss cloud. I couldn’t have told you why.

But not in a ‘let’s jump in the sack and have wild monkey sex’ kind of way…

More of a ‘oh wow, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as interesting as this person. I’d really like to talk to him again’ kind of way…

So, I did.

At that time I was working as a practice manager for a team of alternative health professionals. Doing the Saturday morning shift. I had with me, this man’s home phone number. I was nervous. About calling him.

What was I doing anyway? I mean, why was I calling this guy? And what did I even want to talk to him about? I had no idea…

But then he was on the phone, and he was chilled, funny and genuine. Just like I remembered.

And, despite his busy schedule, he made time to meet up the following weekend. Just him and me…

[Read part 3]

~Svasti