Category Archives: 200 TT

Moving On & Starting Out

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I finished my very first 200-hour teacher training.

The time we had together as a class was concluded in four beautiful days on the shore of Lake Tahoe. We practiced, meditated, ate, slept, laughed, and danced together for four beautiful days.

I learned a very important lesson: never leave your meditation cushion at home when you go on a retreat. I mean, put it in the car first thing and check at least three times that it’s there. There was a lot of meditating and it really wrecked my body to sit on a block and blanket. I left that experience with a tremendous amount of compassion for those who come to the mat in pain and have further first-hand experience in the healing power of yoga – as in breath, movement, compassion.

Without disclosing all that happened….these images sum it up:

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Some of the most beautiful moments of my entire life.

I found myself further along in the foggy field. Some shapes came into focus, some things that looked interesting from afar turned out to be not what I thought when I got close, somethings that looked uninteresting turned out to be more than appeared in the fog, and I realized this path I’m on doesn’t end with one 200-hour training in Lake Tahoe.

I am grateful.

I drove home, down the mountain with a blessing infused with Ganesh from my teachers. Taking on obstacles with a piece of string around my wrist, calling out, “By the power of Ganesh!” like a superpower force of good, here I go into the world.

I finished my papers, finished my dvd, dropped it all in the mail, and am waiting for the certificate to send into Yoga Alliance to become RYT-200.

Even better: I have a teaching gig and a mentor. I am still completely blown away by this gift. I start teaching two classes a week next week. I have a healthy mix of excitement and irrational terror in me. What a gift! ed. note 1.14.11

2011 is looking mighty fine.

I had a really powerful dream the other night. I’m sure it was inspired by the fact we watched a PBS documentary about Buddha and the dream featured one of my favorite bands, but it’s still really powerful.

In my dream, I was in an oceanside town rocking out with Gogol Bordello. I was on stage with Eugene Hutz singing this song to a room of people sitting at banquet tables:

After hanging out with Eugene, I went off by myself and started to compose a song. As I worked through the song, this beautiful creation came into being. I realized it was a song that could teach us all how to be a Buddha. I went out to teach it to other people. As soon as I shared it, the song turned into a simple, beautiful inhale and exhale. I woke up breathing really deeply with these words echoing in my ears:

Revolution is internal
Evolution isn’t over, isn’t over
I’m walking in the balance
I’m ready, ready to uncover

Evolution is preparing
all of us maximum surprise
So rise, whoa, the knowledge
Rise the knowledge rise
Rise the knowledge rise

more lyrics here….

There it was, in a dream, my journey from poet to musician to yoga teacher. So that’s what I’m going to do, try to remember the song and share it however I can, one breath at a time.

The Pacer

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To graduate from teacher training, we have to turn in a DVD of us teaching a 60-minute class from a specific 75-minute flow and theme around it. Also – we’re not “allowed” to play music or assist. I decided to get take one out of the way before our final retreat. Last night, five friends came over for a 60-minute class. I love having people over to our home and it meant a lot to me, so I turned my mantle into a little altar (well, I already consider it an altar of sorts) to make a welcoming, sacred space for practicing.

I live in a house that is tiny by many standards – it was built in 1916, before people “needed” a lot of stuff. I removed all the furniture from the living room & dining room, worked with my friends to figure out the best set-up for practicing (my petite friend was underneath the light fixture in the dining room – she was literally reaching for the sun in some poses), and proceeded on a hilarious 15-minute search for the right camera angle to record the class – those gorgeous built-ins kept getting in the way. The shot we got was great. I am really happy with my timing, the flow and theme. It was really hard for me to not touch the students at all – made me feel like there was a wall up. Everyone worked up a sweat and had a beautiful savasana (screw the rules, they each got a savasana assist – I had to thank them for their amazing energy and willingness to share their evening with me). Namaste happened at 00:58:45. I made everyone dinner and it was so great to share a meal with my new friends outside of the studio. My dog was in heaven getting so much attention.

I sat down after they were gone to watch my video, covered my eyes, and eventually started to laugh. The girl on the video made me dizzy walking circles around her students and, wow, she has a really weird walk. (No wonder people ask her sometimes, “Are you limping?” I mean, wtf is going on with her? Thanks, genetics, for these effed up knees of mine.) When she stood still, her voice and connection with the students was great. Then she’d just start walking again even while I told this girl on the screen, “Stop walking circles! Ground yourself! Hold the space!”

I have a DVD for graduation that is fine, but I am going to shoot it again. I didn’t put expectations on myself to have a perfect video last night and have no expectation for shoot number two to be perfect, either. The best part was having friends over to share a practice and meal in my home.

The one thing I know from watching this is that I need to keep teaching to get closer to let my inner teacher out to play. She gets stronger each time.

The Facilitator

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I have one week until the final retreat for my teacher training. I’m done with the two required papers (“What the Eight-limb Path Means to Me” and “Why I Want to Teach Power Vinyasa Yoga“), I’m recording me teaching a 60-minute class in my living room on Monday, and will only need to critique it, submit the package to the studio and wait for my certificate to be RYT-200. So close I can taste it.

I shared my experience from teaching on Sunday with one of my teachers and she asked me how much I want to teach. I drew a blank – I think I’ve been focusing so much on this process, reaching this marker snuck up on me.

Part of our training has been a mandatory, assigned Seva project that has been a real challenge. A woman who graduated in the class before us works with a local nonprofit that helps at-risk-youth (18-25) turn their lives around. I’m pretty sure that most of them live in my old neighborhood, which most people in this town have never even driven through and only hear about on the news. It’s a part of town where, literally (as in this actually happened to me) the cops call to ask for directions to gun shots or a 911 call gets the City Police who tell you to call the Sheriff who tell you to call the City Police. She incorporated yoga into the PE curriculum and we were tasked to support it.

I won’t get into it, but I summed up the lesson we learned from the experience in this sentence: We must ask, over and over, what can we give rather than tell, over and over, here is what we’re going to give you. Through donation classes and peer fundraising, we raised a lot of money to give to the organization to support what they need. One thing the kids really wanted was a field trip to a yoga studio, so this ended up including covering the cost for 16 kids to attend a class and get the introductory $10 for 10 days of unlimited yoga.

This morning, 16 kids came on a van to the studio for a 9:30 class. I gave up my spot in the room and assisted the class. It was SO worth it. They were really honest with their practice. They got restless – they left the room, they talked, they exclaimed “It’s HOT in here!”, a lot of them rested (especially when they saw resting people getting little back massages). I gave a lot of assists to relieve lower back pain I usually see on older adults. They rested, they went for it, they laughed and had fun. I learned so much from them today. The students rocked it! This is what a yoga community is all about – it IS for everyone, not just the lulus.

Post-class smiles

I realized, in the shower at home where the best ideas come and go, that everything I’ve done and everything that drives me is about facilitating experiences. I did this as a musician, delivering challenging and comforting experience to audiences. Managing the audience services department of a large theatre, I work with my staff to create comfortable and safe spaces for people to experience performances and events. When I handle artists, I manage their schedule and access to ensure they have space to perform to the best of their ability for the audience. When I assist in a yoga class, I help students feel comfortable and go deeper into their practice.

When I teach yoga, I can create a safe place for each student to be themselves as they work up the courage, class by class, to let their true nature out to play and spill off their mat into the rest of their lives. Facilitation.

So my revised answer to my teacher is, yes, I want to teach. I want to teach so I can keep learning. Start with one or two regular classes – go from there. Giving myself permission to keep teaching or not. I want to continue this lifelong work I seem to have found my way into facilitating experiences and see where it takes me.

The further on this path I go, the more I realize I’ve been on it the whole time.

UNDESTRUCTABLE!

This is my life and freedom is my profession
This is my mission throughout all flight duration
There is a core and it’s hardcore
All is hardcore when made with love
Love is a voice of a savage soul
This savage love is
Undestructable!!!!

Hello, Teacher

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I had my first experience feeling like a real yoga teacher on Sunday.

After my experience of having yoga-teacher-ADD in teacher training, (it was like I needed to get a TUI, teaching under the influence), I had a come to Jesus discussion with myself about teaching. I wrote myself a letter, giving me permission to be myself.

I showed up to teach a donation class on Sunday with my friend who is also in teacher training. I’m used to teaching other teachers and experienced students. I realized, with the first move from downdog to ragdoll, that maybe 3 people in the class had more than 5 yoga classes before walking in the door, including a hearing-impaired woman whose hearing aid went out halfway through class. I immediately threw my script out the window, adjusted my plan for the class, got myself out of the way, and taught for the students. Did I mess up? Yes, but I recovered and the students had no idea. Smoothly transitioned to the other teacher for the second half. It was fun for both fellow teachers and new students, it ran on time, everyone broke a sweat as well as a smile, and after class, people asked me where I will be teaching next.

I had my “well hello there, teacher” moment. Believe me, I’m sure there will be plenty more, “omg, you call yourself a teacher?” moments, but I need those moments to really appreciate the good ones.

I’ve been telling a story in hips throughout my training from one of my favorite books, Geography of Bliss. Well, you’ll have to take one of my classes to hear the whole thing, but part of the story is that Eric Weiner meets with a man named Karma in Bhutan who looks at all of his successes and failures with the same insignificance. That’s right: insignificance. I finally started listening to my own story.

Final Countdown

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Today ended the final weekend in town for teacher training before our Tahoe retreat. I am weary, humbled, inspired.

Over the past three days, I’ve been amazed as each of us has stepped up to the plate and taught a portion of the class. In teams of five (or, in one case, four) we have team-taught a 75-minute class with a common theme. There were times I had to look up and see who was teaching because I didn’t recognize the voice. There were times I was inspired and amazed by the bravery and authenticity.

For me, I decided to teach the part that was hardest for me – a high-energy flow. I totally overdid it. I got overwhelmed and carried away, losing my authentic voice to cover the fact that I left my body in what had to be something like ADD. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I discouraged? No. I was able to go into a room of 35 people and take a risk. I found my edge and crossed it and am so grateful it happened in a room full of people who are genuinely caring enough to give me honest feedback.

I’ve had so much “feedback” from places of fear. The teacher training has reminded me what it is like to hear difficult things from places of love. I’m new at this and, frankly, it’s great to have something I love to do that I’m not immediately great at like I was at music or management. How liberating and exciting to have something to work on.

Just had beers (yes, beers! yogis drink beers and we do it so well!) with a group of fellow teachers in training. We were talking about our next steps. I feel like I need to focus more on dharma and continue with assisting. I need to find a place to teach to get me in front of people. I am ready to, in the words of my teacher, really suck for a year. I need to fail over and over again.

I am ready for my next teacher. I need another training to help me tap into my softer side, a training that is heavier on dharma. My practice is becoming more bhakti flavored – it is my way to walk with The Friend, The Beloved and I want to learn how to make a space for others to find their way as well.

I am really grateful for this experience. I am awake. I am weary.

Vinyasa: Putting Things in a Certain Order

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As anticipated for months, and explained in my last adrenaline-powered (and poorly-written) post, I am in power vinyasa yoga teacher training. I have three more weekends, a seva (community service) project, and dvd/critique to go in order to complete my 200-hour yoga-alliance approved training. I know power vinyasa yoga gets some flak, often categorized with things like super-sized xyz or extreme sports/makeovers – so let me break it down:

Power: Acting on your own behalf
Vinyasa: Putting things in a certain order
Yoga: Skill in action

Overall, I’ve been experiencing vinyasa off the mat. My second week of teacher training, I likened the experience of moving into a beautiful new apartment after months of anticipation. In this new space, surrounded by boxes without labels, I realize not everything is going to fit. The bookshelf that fit perfectly in the old place and held so many books is too wide, the kitchen does not have room for all the fancy appliances, and half of what I’ve been carrying and carefully packaging isn’t necessary. Writing yay is one of those metaphorical boxes that made it to the “to be unpacked” pile, but was low on the priority list.

It is intense and life-changing. Intense introspection like I have never experienced – getting behind my thoughts and really looking honestly at the ways I have chosen to present myself and live my life. I am emotionally and physically exhausted by the end of each weekend I have training. My homework is equally intense, designed to train my mind to look at life through different lenses (a.k.a. yamas and niyamas). I have come to truly appreciate the word “weary” and understand why this particular word (as opposed to “tired” or “exhausted”) is used in hymns and poems. I am pushed to tap into my inner power (see above definition) and learn how to speak powerfully from a place of stillness. Over and over, I ask myself the exhilarating yet frightening questions: “How did I get here, to this point in my life?” and “Where to next?”

Waltzing on the edge of beauty and terror, embracing the complexities of simply being human, I have often thought about one of my favorite Rilke passages:

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels’ hierarchies?
and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart:
I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure,
and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Every angel is terrifying.

My celebration of being human is not inspired by Michael Franti. (I feel it is important to make this distinction, despite fear of being excommunicated from the yoga community.) For me, it is inspired by Beethoven (Dresden playing the 7th to be exact), Walt Whitman, Bach, Patanjali, Kabir, the unconditional love of my dog, listening to Madeline Albright talk about diplomacy and Jonah Lehrer talk about the mind, watching the changing leaves, listening to falling rain, slowing down on the highway to see birds in the wetlands, pausing to feel the rumble of trains rattle the windows of my little house as many other have since 1916, smiling at strangers. With the community of training, I have felt the supportive experience of breathing in time with 31 people and been able to laugh, cry, succeed, and fail without judgment in front of others.

My celebration of being human is inspired by slowing down and living namaste. I want to always really mean it when I say namaste and bring it to each moment: recognizing that we are all the same by seeing the same fears, hopes, and joys in others that I feel so sharply and deeply.

I realize I love pranayama (breath work) and want to go deeper outside of teacher training. I remind myself to remind myself that each breath, each moment, is a gift and that it is my choice to accept or ignore these gifts. (No, there is not a typo in that sentence.)

It has been painful in many ways. One of my friend’s mother told her that she is feeling pain because part of her is dying and part of her is being born – both are painful processes. Relationships and perspectives change. My body aches after Sundays of 7:45 a.m. ashtanga (which my inner I-don’t-wanna calls asstanga when it is roused to get out of bed at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday and is subsequently chided for being so childish) followed by back-to-back practice teaching/practicing. But, as one of the seven axioms we learn in our training reminds us: Fear and Pain are Life’s Greatest Teachers.

In short, yoga teacher training is one mind@#$% after another in the process of metamorphosis. I am grateful, humble, and inspired.

God laughs when you make plans

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Teacher training starts tonight and I am going into it completely humbled already. My girlfriends and I were joking last week about taking bets on who will cry first in teacher training. It still might be me, but God keeps giving me the giggles…

I had a sh*t ton of paperwork that I absolutely loathe last Thursday and I think the ergo issues messed up my lower shoulder/back. (I have to fill out an alcohol permit for every single show we do at work. I had to sign over 100 in a day. Is this a college in California or a dry county in the bible belt?) I’m finally going to get an ergo evaluation at work. I backed off my yoga practice, took it super easy on my right side. I didn’t practice Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday – after work it is the worst. I assisted last night and focused on breathing behind my heart while helping in class and went home for a super mellow home practice – gentle shoulder and heart openers, lots more breath. Arnica and china gel are reluctantly my two bffs right now…

My husband has been commuting to the Bay Area for the past six months and today is his last day to make the drive. He wakes up really early and leaves the house by 6:00 a.m. I made peace with my shoulder situation this morning (whew, I’m in long meetings all day) and carefully checked my purse before leaving for work to make sure I have everything [I think] I need: iPhone, iPod (yes, I am under the silly yet strong impression that I need both), earbuds, wallet, arnica gel, journal, pen, Tide to go, lip balm,lipstick, book for teacher training, stick figure series to review for teacher training when I get breaks, Hafiz book (why not?), water bottle. I’m good, I’m set, I’m out the door with a plan on how to get to 6:00 at the studio.

I find the other car in the driveway. My mat bag is sitting in San Ramon in the trunk of the car I took last night.Since I decided not to stay and practice, I totally forgot to get it out and didn’t check with him this morning on which car he was taking. I don’t think he’ll be back before I have to leave for the studio. I am left with my lovely red Jade mat that I accidentally left out in the sun this summer, left with the reminder that thoughtlessness led to what felt like the frying of one of my best friends. I’ve been borrowing his since the incident and now I can either use the fried mat or finally bit the bullet and get that Manduka I’ve been making eyes at across the crowded room before each practice.

So, on this first day of teacher training, I would like to tell the universe that I officially surrender. I give up! I know I am not in control. God, I hear you laughing at all my plans and preparations and have decided to laugh with you until the tears run down my cheeks.

Read Play Work

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I recently got a series of packages dropped on my front porch. It’s like a birthday party in the mail I’m throwing for myself.

I work with a series of speakers and always get their books before the season starts to get to know them (and, I admit, add to my collection of signed books, CDs, and records from artists I’ve worked with). On the right in my shaky iPhone photo below, you’ll see work books – Daniel Handler, Jonah Lehrer, David Sedaris, Madeline Albright….and I put Alex Ross the Rest is Noise in the “work” mix, but I’m not working with him, I’m going to see him at another venue. (Side note: I love his blog and, oh my goodness, I adore this book.) These are books that are reminding me of the good things in work right now, why I got into this crazy business to begin with.

On the left is my small but growing yoga library. I got the Yoga Sutras translated by Sri Swami Satchidananda (yes, the cover reminds me of an early childhood experience, but I’m working on it), Baron Baptiste’s Journey Into Power, and Sharon Gannon & David Life’s Jivamukti Yoga on recommendation from the teacher training program. From my own collection is Cyndi Lee’s really fun book Yoga Body, Buddha Mind, Rolf Gates‘ Meditations from the Mat (another book I adore), Leslie Kaminoff’s Yoga Anatomy, and Stephen Mitchell’s translation of the Bhagavad Gita. On top is a little book of Hafiz poetry translated by Daniel Ladinsky called I Heard God Laughing  – when I was ordering the first three books, I treated myself to this beautiful little volume and have been taking a moment to spend time with these absolutely beautiful poems each morning this week.

Yes, it’s exciting, but damn that’s a lot of books! I have the best of intentions, but I don’t think I’ll be able to finish Madame Secretary’s book by the end of September. I didn’t even put the Omnipotent Oom in the mix, which I’m almost done with (Alex Ross distracted me and I’ve been spending my reading time saying things out loud to no one in particular like, “Wow, Arnold Schoenberg must have been such a prick!”)

I also have some homework to prepare for teacher training, which starts in two weeks. I’m waiting to pick up a book from the studio next week and got a sequence via email to start to learn. My husband has been out of town this week and my evenings have consisted of yoga practice followed by quiet time reading from the stacks and studying the foundation sequence. I got Cyndi Lee’s book when I first started my yoga practice and loved the way she uses stick figures in the back of her book for sequences. When I saw the two-page list of poses to learn, I just saw it in notation. I’m sketching it out and walking around the house talking to my dog, “Stand up tall on the inhale, dive down into a forward fold on the exhale…”  Here’s what I started:

I have a little notebook that I’m sketching out the sequences and, yes, those are repeat signs. I started putting fermatas on top of the poses that you hold for 5-10 breaths and am finding this really dorky mash-up of yoga and music notation evolving in my study. I’m composing! I have a podcast I need to listen to and notate, so I guess my ear training from college will come in handy.

I am so ready for this – I am excited, inspired, and a little scared which is an amazing mix of emotions. I keep thinking about the second part of Baron Baptiste’s 40 day transformation (not pictured above): Be willing to come apart. I recently opened the book up for the first time since I went through the 40 day process and found I had marked this passage on page 9:

The truth is that we are not stable, but the Tao is. Trying to control all the instability and uncertainty of life is crazy-making and exhausting, and it creates disease. No matter what the circumstances happen to be, the way of the universe is for all things to move in the direction of healing, that is, wholeness. The body wants to heal itself, our emotional body is seeking balance, out spirit wants redemption; however, we need to get ourselves out of the way in order for our natural health to shine through. We need to totally lose control, and this scares the heaven out of us.

and this passage on page 10

In our lives, like in our bodies, if we refuse to give up control, life will eventually do it for us. Controlling the flow of life is like setting up a dam: All the flow stops, and it builds up with pressure. Finally it breaks and brings us to our knees, and we hit a crisis. Crisis can be a call to spiritual rebirth. We get sick, lose our jobs or someone close to us, or experience a clear and painful moment seeing something about ourselves, and suddenly the ice around our heart breaks. At the crossroads we can shut down and get resentful, or we can break up, break with, and break through to new ground. This point at the crossroads is a spiritual test.

So here I go. I’m committed and open to getting my ass kicked and my heart busted open. The most exciting part: I have a tight community of amazing friends I’ve made through yoga who are going to be right next to me boldly going where none of us have gone before. Bring it!

One month and change

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A little bit over a month from now, I’ll start 200-hour teacher training. There’s no way for me to write how excited I am. I nerd out over yoga in every spare moment I have – cruising yoga blogs, researching poses, reading books, writing, building sequences for home practice, etc. I am equally looking forward to the training and community. We’ll all be learning together – I can geek out on the Gita with other people!

I’ve made it onto the assisting schedule at the studio I consider home base. (There are six studios within a five-minute drive of my house and they are all great. I play around a little bit.) The assisting training required 20 hours of workshop, 5 peer assists (where I assisted peers from the training and got feedback, also reciprocating), an exam that required me to assist a teacher, and then four shadow assists where I worked the room with another assistant.

This has to be one of the most humbling things I have ever done. It is 75-90 minutes of fully focusing on other people. It’s a very powerful experience to have a room of up to 60 people trust me to help them during 75-90 minutes of yoga practice. It’s amazing to help someone find a deeper expression of a pose or feel their heart open underneath the palm of my hand. Feeling someone’s shoulders or neck relax reminds me how much choice and awareness play into how we both harbor and let go of tension in our bodies.

I have found that all those hazy hours of analyzing music and playing music with other people are really paying off. It is a lot like playing chamber music. It’s just like working with a composer who is writing theme and variations. In my experience, the teachers don’t tell us the poses or sequences they’ll be playing with, so it’s all about listening to nuance, picking up on the vibe and paying attention to the sequences. All the students have to do is show up, be themselves and listen to their bodies to play their parts beautifully – we’re there to help if they are open to help. It is music to me, even down the waiting for the repeat and then having to remember where to return on the page, knowing it will be different the second time around (a.k.a. returning to the person I helped on the right-hand side of a pose and assisting the left-hand side). To me, it’s like everyone in the room becomes this big, sweaty, ujjayi-breathing piece of music. I get the exact same feeling I did playing in an orchestra, that focus on the flow outside of myself.

The further I go on this path, the more I feel like I’ve been on it all along.

Teacher training, here I come!


Andrew Bird & Yo Yo Ma