future – The VeganAsana

Asanacation One Year Anniversary

By theveganasana | April 4, 2015 - 9:06 am | April 4, 2015 Yoga

I realized a few days ago that it has basically been a year since my asana practice fell apart. I’ve maintained a practice of yoga in terms of learning, pranayama, and meditation, but asana has been rare. I don’t know exactly how I do/should feel about it, and I’m not sure where I’m going from here.

There are many reasons for the change, but mostly it comes back to health. A surgical procedure in October of 2013 went wrong, causing problems that built up over late 2013 into the first months of 2014. By April, I was miserable. Getting through a day of work was a challenge, and asana was right out. At the end of May, I had a more invasive surgery to correct the prior one. But, then that, and some serious complications during healing, necessitated a continued break from yoga until September 2013. I thought that, by September, I would be back on track. It just didn’t work out that way, as rheumatoid arthritis had other opinions. Work schedule contributed by making the new times at my home studio impossible for me most days, and my home practice commitment just wasn’t strong enough to make up the difference when demands of household and work call. And time passed, and here we are in April.

There are weeks that I manage two classes. Once in a while, it might be three. But, my asana isn’t what it was. Muscles and tendons are tight and constrained. I’m physically weaker. My core is tired and balance is off. Meh. Yet, the RA isn’t significantly worse than it was 18 months ago and I had a more regular practice then. On the other hand, then I wasn’t on particular medication that slows my heart rate to 58, making every moment seem like a good moment for a nap. HA! So, what and where from here?

I want to get back to a more regular asana practice. I know the tricks like putting it on my schedule (though that does no good if I can’t get home from work until 6:30 or later and class starts at 6:15) and using videos and podcasts for home encouragement. But, I knew those last month and the month before, so something has to make the difference. I’m aware that clinging to the idea of an asana practice in a way that makes me feel bad, guilty, ashamed isn’t a good idea. But, I like how I feel when I practice more and (in a non-yogic truth) my clothes also fit better.

This is going to be one of “those” posts, where I end with a question for which I have no answers. It makes me a very not helpful vegan yoga blogger, but it’s where I am right now. So, WWYYD? (what would you yogis do?)

On Passing Time, Missing Mamas, and Moving Into What’s Next

By theveganasana | June 4, 2013 - 2:37 pm | December 31, 2013 Family

10 Comments

1988

November 2012

It’s my birthday today. I suppose “ladies” aren’t supposed to be willing to share how old they are, but I’m not particularly conflicted about it. I’m 47 today.

In some ways, I can’t believe that I’m this age. It seems like just a minute ago I was in college, trying to decide what to do with my life. And then a minute later, I was having my first child. And then I finished grad school and got a teaching job. Then suddenly, here I am a dean with 3 adult children and 3 other teens. I catch myself in the mirror now and then when I’m not expecting it, or see myself in an unfamiliar way (like in an flipped picture or upside down), and I’m surprised at the fact that the middle -aged woman I see is me. I still feel like I’m maybe not old enough to have kids and someone is going to figure it out soon, or not old enough to be a dean, and eventually I’ll get caught.

In other ways, it feels like I’ve done so much in these 47 years. I’ve raised – with my spouse and the help of others – 110 years worth of kids (it’s the new math). I’ve gotten several degrees and some certifications. I’ve seen a LOT of Tom Petty concerts. I’ve written a lot, read even more. I’ve enjoyed the ups (mostly) and downs (some) of two decades of marriage to a great man. It’s a whole bunch of stuff.

I’ve always heard that to know what a woman will be like in the future you should look at her mother. And, while I don’t necessarily think that is accurate, there is certainly something to be said about reflecting on the path of your parents’ lives to see where yours might go, and I’ve always compared my life and my self to my mom at the same age.

My mother died in 1993, at the age of 47. So, as I approach the end of the timeline where I can compare, I am missing my mother quite a lot. I wonder how her life would have been at 50 or 60. I am wishing that she was here to tell me what she thinks of where I am at 47 and where I should go.

I am lucky, however, to have had others who mothered me in the years before and since. My grandmother, Loran, was a second mother to me as a child and into adulthood, and I was able to watch her life course over many years (she died at 90 and we were able to spend 43 years together) and see myself in her. My step-mother, Kathie, has also provided me with that vision of womanhood and time. And there are many other women who have served as examples and points of reference for me.

So, now, as I start a new year, I wonder what is next for me, and where I’m going from here. I know (I think) about some things, like the nutrition consultant certification that I’m getting (hopefully by the end of the summer), and upcoming yoga workshop events. I know which children are graduating from what grades this year, and basically where they are headed and I know those changes will change my parenting. I have some clues about what might unfold in my career(s), but it’s all rather murky right now. Mysterious… in a good way.

Off we go into the 48th year of my life. It’s ok with me to be 47. I’m looking forward to seeing how this year blossoms.

Not Now, Fear.

By theveganasana | July 24, 2012 - 4:03 pm | July 24, 2012 Yoga

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Photo: Francesco Rachello

Fear is a subject that comes up more than once in a while in yoga practice, particularly in the practice of asana. Just this week, I’ve heard yoga students say that they were afraid of handstand (multiple times), headstand, pinca myurasana, and arm balances. And, I have only been at three classes so far! I’ve written in the past about fear and backbends, fear of falling, and fear about having a different teacher, so I’m certainly not unfamiliar with having fear in the practice.

In all of these situations, it’s not the “thing itself” that we are afraid of, it’s some potential future outcome. Jiddu Krishnamurti said it clearly in On Fear:

Fear is never an actuality; it is either before or after the active present. When there is fear in the active present, is it fear? It is there and there is no escape from it, no evasion possible. There, at that actual moment, there is total attention at the moment of danger, physical or psychological. When there is complete attention there is no fear. But the actual fact of inattention breeds fear; fear arises when there is an avoidance of the fact, a flight; then the very escape itself is fear.

That is, fear is about what will happen, or maybe what has happened, but not so much about what is happening. This isn’t so surprising when you think about it. When real danger presents itself, something big like a child struggling in deep water, you aren’t fearing, you are acting. You are moving and taking steps to deal with the situation right then. But, when the danger isn’t present, sometimes we think about the danger and then we think about the potential outcomes (the child will be injured or worse) and that is where the fear arises.

In our asana practice, we may feel fear when we think about a particular pose or type of pose, but it isn’t about the pose. It is about some potential outcome we imagine might occur, and based on associations with the past, we have labeled that outcome bad.

Thus, fear of handstand or headstand is not about the pose, it is about possible outcomes of falling out of the pose. One might fear injury (though, realistically, your most important parts are closer to the ground than when standing), embarrassment, or to appear incapable. My fear of backbends isn’t about backbends, really. Because they make me feel slightly breathless, some part of my brain connects it to moments of claustrophobia and then I become anxious about not being able to breathe, or something (I’m still figuring that out).

So, what does this all mean for us and our practices? Well, I don’t think it means we can get rid of fear. It is part of the animal condition (some might say human animals only, but I’m not so sure about that). And even if we could get rid of fear, I don’t think we should. Fear can be useful. It prevents us from making bad choices sometimes.

What we can learn to do is sit with the fear and try to work through what it is really about. When the fear arises, we can ask the self, “What is actually going on here?” We can consider whether the outcomes we are worrying about are likely, are truly dangerous, or are more related to ego or superstition. This won’t necessarily remove the fear for good, but it can help us to work through that situation, or to decide not to.

Maybe this means that in one class, I say, “Ok, I won’t get stuck in this backbend and I won’t be without air, so I am going to go ahead and do it.” And then in the next class I might decide that I’m just not in a good place that day to forge ahead. But, at least the reflection gives me the opportunity to make the choice and to try to really respond to what is happening.

Namaste,