Guest blog post

In August I was invited to offer a guest blog post for the Desert Yoga Therapy weekly newsletter. Here is a copy of the post that was sent out August 17th, 2019.

It is early morning and I am dressing in the room where I have been on a retreat for labyrinths the past couple of days in Chartres, France.  While I dress, I chant the mantra “Oh Gum Ganapatayei Namaha” in hopes of invoking the energy of Ganesha, the remover of obstacles.  My retreat has been lovely.  I feel rested and centered but I now have a difficult drive ahead of me.  I know it is not going to be easy, so I chant and try to find my calm center.    This blending of my faith traditions is one of the gifts of my yoga practice but there is so much more.

 I have never been an athletic person, but I have always wanted to be strong.  In elementary school I was never the kid picked for the team, instead I was one of the last kids standing on the fence waiting, while the other teams decided how they wanted to divide us up.  Making sure to evenly spread out the weakest links. 

 As I got older I decided that I no longer wanted to be the weakest link in the group and set out to be as athletic as possible, hiring a personal trainer, walking miles a day, working out at the gym and taking numerous spinning, aerobic and weight lifting classes.  I got strong, but I also managed to injure my body in multiple ways; a torn shoulder ligament, a major hip injury, a total ankle blow-out, and many more bumps and bruises.  It felt like the body I was trying to make stronger had betrayed me. 

 Then came yoga.

 I had taken yoga over the years, but only in pursuit of more fitness.  I had never approached it as a mindfulness practice, instead it was a way to become stronger for my other athletic pursuits.  By the time I stumbled into Desert Yoga Therapy I was barely able to move.  The body I longed to be strong was broken.

 In the last two years of practicing with Jayne, I have been learning to listen to my body - the subtle whispers and the loud bangings.  As I lay on the mat, I sometimes imagine that all the parts of my body have little voices that are trying to speak to me and let me know what they need.  I lay there and listen as my knees tell me to be gentle, to trust their growing strength, to not be afraid of their pain, but to allow the pain to tell me what they need to be healed.  The mat is teaching me to listen.

 But I have also learned that to be strong means so much more than how long I can hold a downward dog or how quickly I can trek up the mountainside.  To be strong comes from the inside and works its way through the ligaments and the tissues, up through my chakras and into my heart and mind.  It is a total body experience not just relegated to my muscles.  Yes, yoga is making me physically stronger, but it is also making me mentally fit, able to stay calm in the midst of chaos, able to listen more intently to the needs of the world around me. 

 I come out of a Christian contemplative tradition and yoga has given me tools to take my contemplative side and integrate it into my whole body.  I think of it as embodiment, a mindfulness that does not just include the consciousness, but also my spirit, my heart, and my body - all combining together to make a strong and whole person - able to move in the world with ease, not just physically, but also in relationships and challenges.  This is strength.

 So, back to my dorm room in France.  I chanted in preparation for my drive, hopeful that the practice would keep me strong and centered on the drive.  In the end, it ended up being more difficult than I imagined, I made it, but it was not without some meltdowns.

 So, I return to the mat.  I return to my contemplative practices.  I am not as strong and integrated as I hope to be, but I am getting there. 

 In my own tradition, we have a phrase that says, “always we begin again”, meaning that we are always in the process of becoming and learning.  And so, it is like this, I return to the mat and I begin again.