Fire of Transformation - "Tapas"

"Yoga tries to find the balance between what you can change (tapas) and what you cannot (ishvarapranidhana)." - Leslie Kaminoff 

Tapas is thought of as the inner fire of transformation, corresponding with the fire in our gut known as "Agni" which aids in digestion and transforms food into it's two essences: waste and nutrition.  The root, "tap" means "to burn" and typically refers to the deeply unconscious mental stuff that gets in our way of experiencing total love and lack of suffering.

I like to think of it as the great motivator, that fire under the rump that gets you up when you are feeling lethargic, doubtful or despondent. Tapas is like the kick in our existential pants that fuels us to recreate ourselves as something greater, stronger and more empowered. It is that part of us that was stoked the first time we decided to try yoga asana. It is that part of us that burns when we realize that what we have been doing wasn't serving us well and that heat which causes us to search for a better solution.

Long-Exposure of a Bottle Rocket

Tapas is the participation component of our yoga practice. It is the activity of getting onto the mat, of actually doing yoga, of thinking in terms of yoga ("I don't need to react to that driver who just gave me the finger, because that will not improve the love of this situation, and will only fuel my lack of love."), of living the yoga lifestyle.

It works with all of the things in our lives that we choose to contribute to - our choices around food, lovers, family, friends, the work we do, the things we spend our money on, the things we do with our free time, the way we speak to ourselves and others. It affords us a sense of control and contribution as we learn to truly see how little we do have control over in our lives - the people we love and who love us, our karmic debts, our genetic dispositions and some personality traits, time, space and taxes.

It requires the austerity to change a habit, which is the most stubborn behavior to change! Some translations even include "austerity" as a way to describe tapas. It is part of the second limb of Patanjali's Yoga Sutras  which describes practices for relationships with others, known as the Niyamas. 

An Exercise in Cultivating Tapas 

For the next 14 days, wake up each morning and write down or say aloud the first three things that come to mind when you ask yourself: "What am I grateful for today?" Do not miss a day.

If you don't do this rpactice as soon as you wake up, make sure you do it before you go to bed as a way to create a proactive habit. 

Remember that it is the 'doing' that is instigated by this inner heat, not the 'thinking-about-doing'! 

Celebrating the Subtle: Divine is in the Details

On my last day in Israel, I was at a 2-story commercial shopping mall with a few Israeli friends. My friend Adi suggested that I check out a store called Zara because, "every Israeli girl has at least one thing from there." I took her word for it, and in the end, bought an outfit. As I took my bag and we made our way out of the store, she said something to me in Hebrew which I hadn't heard yet. At this point, I'd been in Israel for about 3 weeks and was able to decipher basic conversational phrases, but this one was new.

She asked me what Americans say when someone buys something. I must have stared blankly at her, because she repeated the question again. "Um...we don't say anything to each other," I replied. I suppose this statement says it all...

In her tradition (she is Jewish Israeli), when someone buys something - clothes, a special gift, stuff for the house, etc.- they will say to that person, "tithadshi" in Hebrew which doesn't exactly translate to our English language, but this is like saying, "congratulations on your new thing."

This was so rich to me! What a rich culture! Israel isn't exactly a capitalist country, and given it's dense history of being thwarted geo-politically, economically and culturally, the citizens aren't all together wealthy. But they honor what they have, and they have traditions to keep this idea alive in the current generation.

I remember learning a traditional African welcome song from my drumming teacher who was native to Papau-New Guinea, Africa. He told me that in his country, they have a blessing for everything - even when someone spills water on the ground, it is seen as an offering to those who've died.

What if instead of cringing at the thought of waking up at 7am to take a new yoga class, or clenching your teeth in that hamstring stretch, we saw these things as opportunities in being alive?

What if the next time you come to class and find a sub in place of your favorite teacher, you celebrate the chance to explore your practice under a different lens, with a different tour guide? What if even our loses are offerings?

What would your day feel like, if everything you experienced was something to be congratulated about?

Mazol tov!

 and Namaste.

Vision: What are you bringing into the future?

Try this:

Write out what your life will look like. Get specific - qualities of the people in it, your attitudes, how you look, what you wear, what other people look and feel like, the kind of work you do, how you spend your time, what you spend your money on, how much you travel and commute, the kind of conversations you have with other people... Stop when you find that you've got the vision in your mind summed up well.

The next day, reread what you wrote from day 1 and this time, walk yourself through all of the events that would need to happen to make that vision happen - no holds barred, no such thing as an impossible feat. This time, write out the actions you saw yourself taking to get there.

Intention: A Dialogue with the Divine

It's been a solid month since my last post and I am excited to report that this hiatus was a consequence of some very exciting globe trotting! I spent the better part of June trekking around the great country of Israel - touring, learning, laughing, being in community and teaching yoga to new friends.

While there, I was privileged to experience the holiest day of the Judaic week, Shabaat, at the holiest site on the planet,  the Western Wall in Jerusalem. We arrived at sunset, walking across the city, through the great stone gates that led to the interior Old City of Jerusalem where I was met by an uproar of voices. As I descended a broad stone stairwell that led to the main floor where crowds congregated in modest clothing and head coverings. As I scanned the panorama of ancient architecture among sunset backdrop, I witnessed a few thousand people gathered in two seas split by a thin partition - men to the left and women to the right. There was so much movement! I stood in a kind of surreal awe at this mass of people in prayer of all kinds - dancing, singing, swaying, reading holy texts, repeating scripture, standing in silence, crying. (This remains an ineffable moment for me, but I'm doing my best to illustrate some sense of it for you here.)

Standing among thousands of people in their most sacred space, listening to the clamor of individual prayers coming together in waves of sound, I started to unravel the yogic idea of intention, and it's power. 

Without hesitation, I will tell you that I am not a religious person and I do not pray. That being said, I understand the desire to have a dialogue with something great and, albeit, divinely more "put together" than myself. I get that prayer is like intention, with a religious twist.

When I make an intention, I am creating a dialogue with myself in order to realize a more integrated version of who I am, my practice, or some other aspect of my life. Focusing awareness to draw up an idea or vision of what we want to see in our lives allows our quieter parts a chance to tune in to this idea, grasp it, and begin to create it.

Standing within the walls of a city that's been revered for it's holy antiquity and fought over for centuries, I felt at home with this sense of reverie and conviction. Often, I am beside myself as I learn how the body works as an integrated system, and that I am consciously aware of this inner working. The kotel symbolizes for the Jewish people the last tangible structure of their most significant house of god, their temple. They stand before it in honor, in worship and on Shabaat, in prayer.

It is commonplace for a person to come to the kotel  with a small piece of paper inked with a prayer. They press these notes inside cracks in the wall as a way to communicate directly with god. People come to this place from all over the planet, to dialogue with their holiest and most sacred.

As I walked through the stone corridors that led the way to my hostel, the echoes of mass prayer trailed behind in a blurry kind of bass. During very quiet moments, I feel this kind of reverberation in my own body, in the chambers of my throat as I chant and within the walls of my lungs as I breath. Inside of me their is a city whose people are reverent and history, antiquated -like Jerusalem.

How Do You Hold Yourself?

Since my last post, Earth Day and my Birth day have passed, along with several other exciting things. First, I was accepted into the 300 hour teacher training at Black Dog Yoga. This means that in about 1 year I will be a certified 500 hour Registered Yoga Teacher!!! Following this, I began the first step (of many) on this journey 3 days ago, participating in a workshop lead by my mentor, Sigrid Matthews [www.sigridmatthews.com].

Here is some of what I am dissolving from these last few weeks: How do I hold myself? Where do I hold too much? How do I stand in my life, on the Earth, in my body?

Taking from the incredibly precise and concise teaching of my mentor, I have been talking a lot about core alignment in my classes. Specifically, how to connect the abdomen to the rest of the body. "Drop your mid-spine into the floor," while students are on their backs, "move your frontal hip points toward your low ribs," "draw your belly button toward your spine as you exhale," etc. We experienced this a step further in the headstand workshop this past weekend, where Sigrid talked about "suspender abdominals." Simply put, we are closing the ribs, engaging our deepest abdominal muscles, and breathing like a yogi.

It is simple, but not necessarily easy.

I instructed these same cues tonight in a Gentle class where students stay on their backs or bellies the duration of the practice. Several of the students spoke with me after about how much work it is to keep the core connected! It's really true. Even though the body isn't moving in a gross or high-impact way, there is a lot of conditioning and alignment happening on subtle levels. As one student said, "You always feel it the next day."

It is interesting to see how these principles translate across planes, like when you move from your back [where it is easiest to feel your spine grounding], to standing [where you are moving against space]. More often than not, the body will lose the structure over a shorter period of time. Sit up tall where you are right now, and notice how much time passes before you are slouching your shoulders or leaning forward with your chin. What is supporting you? Where do you need more support?

In our yoga practice, we move from the core and aim to clarify this in all of our movements. In our daily life, we also move from a center point; a point of view that supports a belief, an attitude that supports a point of view, a pattern that holds us in a particular shape. Do these things support your neutrality? Do they support your most optimized state of being?

Here recently, I am asking myself all of these questions and not always coming up with solutions. At least I know that much of this will become clear as I continue to practice.

Cheers to studentship!

Questions from Students: Injury Recovery

After my Saturday class at Black Dog Yoga, a student asked me about injury recovery and stamina.

He told me that he was post-operative and had just begun practicing again after a few months of recovery. Prior to surgery he practiced regularly and took pilates often. He explained that during our Basics class, he felt winded and off balance and found that he needed to take frequent breaks in order to maintain his breath and balance. His question was, "when will I be able to practice like I used to?"

I offered him this response: Take breaks to breath without moving the body as often as needed. The body will recover at it's own pace, despite how ready your mind is to get back into the physical practice. The most difficult part of the healing process may be to keep the mind in it's place while the physical body restores itself. I explained that the practice is cumulative so whatever amount of posture he does during class will benefit him, and that as long as he stays with his breath, he will receive all of it's benefits.

He shook his head in agreement and told me that he knew it would take some time to get back, and that the patience he would need at this point may be the most challenging benefit in his practice to date. :)

I am very happy to have had him in class, and to offer me this question. I've felt this way many times in my life, having endured a variety of injuries and illness that prevented me from going through with my regular routines. We will all experience some version of this man's challenge during our yoga practice. May we come away from it with the same liberating challenge as he has.


Be well! Stay dry LA!

Principles of Alignment

"Come what may"

Practicing yoga offers us opportunities to open beyond our habits of normalcy.
Working within the breath-body we connect to our mental, physical and emotional bodies and this offers us opportunities to expand our perceived limitations, which ultimately offers us to experience a truer quality of our life.
In order to do this, agreements must be settled internally.

First, a commitment to the cause [surrender/Ishvara Pranidhana]. Then, a willingness, a real willingness to move in this direction [fire/tapas]. Lastly, but hardly the very least, an agreement to be honest with yourself [honesty/santosha] about the process, the expectations, the grievances, the desires, the complaints, the reasons, the excuses, the habits and the fear.

Whether you practice yoga postures or you don't, moving beyond discomfort in any area of your life is first and foremost a private decision that must embody these 3 elements.

Today, as I move toward limits of normalcy in pursuit of what is natural, I am reminded of this mantra:
Come what may.


may we all move with such grace and softness.


enjoy the rain Los Angeles.

With love,
niki

Do you love your life?

Another TED.com inspired post...

Ric Elias: 3 things I learned while my plane crashed | Video on TED.com

Mr. Elias said a couple of things in this 5-minute talk that brought me immediately to my practice.

1. "I love my life,"

2. We will not be here forever.

During this past summer a number of challenges have crossed my path that brought about deep and intense feelings for me: of sadness, of regret, of uncertainty. In too many of these moments, I had wished for it all to pass by me so that I could remain untouched by the overwhelming experience of emotion that I didn't trust that I could handle. Of course, in my hindsight, I know that all states are temporary and that these feelings always pass, but in the moment, they felt endless. At the turning point, I had to shift my stubborness around and use it as a tool for self-enhancement. Instead of continuing my limiting attitude in some stubborn attempt to prove my ill-feelings valid, I needed to move consciously, from a headspace of patience and of grasping a bigger idea of what was happening in my life, of seeing my life from someone else's perspective. Whenever I do this, I always come back to the fact that my life is and has been filled with really cool and interesting experiences, and when I really start to stretch my perspective to the number of people whom I know have drastically different life situations than mine, I remember that I love my life in all of its imperfection.

This gets me thinking about point # 2 - we will not be here forever. I have a lot of ambitions, many of which require resources that I don't yet have and will probably take some time to get (money, mentors, networks, experience, space)... on challenging days, this reality causes self-limiting thinking, doubt, sadness, jealousy...you know how it goes. But in my current state of realistic thinking, I know that these means can come, even if the events that will culminate to manifest them are unknown to me right now. And also, that the more I indulge in this kind of self-limiting and draining thinking, I am wasting time and energy where I could be investing them. Ambitions are great goals and ideals to keep close at hand, in order to keep up endurance for the challenges that face us in our lives. But just as it is possible to achieve our ambitions, it is just as possible that our lives will end without notice. In this gap, we live our lives.

What do you need to move or shift in order to love your life? What do you need to maintain in order to keep loving your life?

Be well!


P.S. I will be teaching a Basics class at Black Dog Yoga in Sherman Oaks this Thursday from 630 - 800pm <3

Upcoming Classes and Mushrooms

I will be teaching at Black Dog Yoga in Sherman Oaks the next 2 Thursdays of this month - September 22nd and 29th from 6:30-8:00pm. A basics class best for beginners/injured/tired/tight/happy people! Minimal trip-hop music and decompression from the work week...come by!


On an unrelated note, check out this guy's talk:
Eben Bayer: Are mushrooms the new plastic? | Video on TED.com

INGENIOUS!

First, if you don't know about TED talks...now you do. Bookmark the page and visit it often.

Second, Eben Bayer is a product designer with an eye for efficiency and sustainability. The product he describes in this video provides a resolution to a number of problems, including 1.) our economic and political codependency on patroleum and 2.) the ever-growing volume of toxic waste (not to forget the user-friendly process that would help reconnect People to the earth, the creative process and to the welfare of their environment).

Good lookin' out Mr. Bayer.

((Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu))