Be Like A Tree

Over the past few days I've witnessed a friend dealing with some pretty tough life lessons.  When we see our friends or loved ones struggle, it often feels like words aren't enough. Sometimes just being a silent, rooted presence is the best support we can give and a reminder that they too can find the strength and steadiness to rest like a tree in the midst of their troubles.

As I was preparing for Monday morning's class, I came across the following quote along with some words of wisdom from Mark Nepo: 

"Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and sorrow come and go like the wind. To be happy, rest like a great tree in the midst of them all." 

(Buddha)

"It helps to remember this.  Of course, it's hard to remember this when feeling blame, loss, or sorrow.  But that's when we need this wisdom the most.

Like everyone, I'd rather not experience the undercurrents of life, but the challenge is not to shun them, but to accept that over a lifetime we will have our share of them.

Avoiding the difficult aspects if living only stunts our fullness.  When we do this, we are like a tree that never fully opens to the sky.  And dwelling on our difficulties only prevents them from going on their way.  When we do this, we are like a great tree that nets the storm in its leaves.

The storm by its nature wants to move on, and the tree's grace is that it has no hands.  Our blessing and curse is to learn and relearn when to reach and hold, and when to put our hands in our pockets."

When we practice asana, pranayama or meditation, we are teaching ourselves how to evoke the qualities of a tree: strength, rootedness, flexibility, grace and stillness in the face of challenge. 

Whether we're helping a friend who is weathering a storm or experiencing the fluctuations of our own lives and challenges, our practice is to rest like a tree in the midst of them all.  It's a beautiful practice and reminder that it is in our power to either hold on or let go.

Until next time...

Monday's practice:

OPEN-

SEATED SUKHA PURVAKA  PRANAYAMA (BALANCES ENERGY) 

WITH A TALL SPINE, AND CLOSED EYES, GENTLY BLOCK OFF YOUR RIGHT NOSTRIL WITH YOUR RIGHT THUMB AND BREATH SLOWLY INTO AND OUT OF YOUR LEFT NOSTRIL.  REPEAT FOR 12 BREATH CYCLES (FULL INHALES AND EXHALES).

REPEAT ON THE OTHER SIDE.

WARM UPS-

WIDE KNEE CHILDS 4 MINUTES

TOE STRETCH 1 MINUTE

CAT/COW

DOWN DOG 5 BREATHS

DOWN DOG/PLANK WAVES X3

UTTANASANA (STANDING FORWARD FOLD)

TADASANA TIPPY TOES DYNAMICALLY UP AND DOWN

SUN SALUTATAION-

IN-TADASANA 

EX-UTTANASANA

IN-FLAT BACK 

EX-HIGH LUNGE (HANDS TO BLOCKS)

IN-ARMS UP

EX-PALMS DOWN

IN-STANDING SPLITS

EX-UTTANASNA

FLOW X 3 THEN HOLD EACH 5B

REPEAT-L

STANDING

TADASANA W/LIFTING LEG SIDEWAYS FLOW X3 W/BREATH

TREE POSE-R 

UTTHITA HASTA VARIATION-R INTO 

WARRIOR III-R

FORWARD FOLD SPLITS-R (PULSING THEN HOLD_)

UTTANASANA

UTKATASANA (CHAIR POSE)

SLOW VINYASA

REPEAT-L

CHILDS/HARE

DOLPHIN TO 

FOREARM SIDE PLANK-R INTO

VISHNU’S COUCH

SEAL 2 MINUTES

CHILDS

SADDLE 3 MINUTES

CHILDS 3 MINUTES

BADDHA KONASANA 5 MINUTES

RECLINING BADDHA KONASANA 5 MINUTES

RECLINING TWISTS (BS) 3 MINUTES

SAVASANA  

Advice from a Tree
By Ilan Shamir

Dear Friend,

Stand Tall and Proud
Sink your roots deeply into the Earth
Reflect the light of a greater source
Think long term
Go out on a limb
Remember your place among all living beings
Embrace with joy the changing seasons
For each yields its own abundance
The Energy and Birth of Spring
The Growth and Contentment of Summer
The Wisdom to let go of leaves in the Fall
The Rest and Quiet Renewal of Winter

Feel the wind and the sun
And delight in their presence
Look up at the moon that shines down upon you
And the mystery of the stars at night.
Seek nourishment from the good things in life
Simple pleasures
Earth, fresh air, light

Be content with your natural beauty
Drink plenty of water
Let your limbs sway and dance in the breezes
Be flexible
Remember your roots

Enjoy the view!

Tree Of Life

 by Danna Faulds

I am the immovable root

of a tree I can't see, whose

trunk and branches extend

up and out to an infinity of 

being, whose leaves catch

light and transform it into

energy.  I feel the taproot

running deep, sustaining me.

Without it, I couldn't

bend in the wind or stand

through raging tempests.

It extends down and in,

anchor and liberator,

reaching back to the

primordial sea of love,

connecting me with the

unseen in all directions.

My fruit falls far beyond

my reach, and the seeds

are scattered far and wide.

A few are planted by wise

hands in fertile soil, and

grow-even though

I don't know where.

We Have Not Come To Take Prisoners

"For we have not come to take prisoners or to confine our wondrous spirits, but to experience ever and ever more deeply our divine courage, freedom, and light!"

 (Hafiz-The Great Sufi Master)

I am often baffled by our ability as modern humans to live our lives as if there were a great war being waged against us.  So many of us often seem defensive and out to protect what's ours (our beliefs, ideas, possessions, our politics).  Perhaps most perplexing of all, we often treat ourselves or our bodies as if they were the enemy-something to be punished.  We punish ourselves for the weekend's overindulgence, for not being tall enough, thin enough, for our past mistakes or current insecurities, or _______(fill in the blank).   We may become obsessive over our style/method of yoga, have "killer" workouts or "punishing classes" all in an attempt to desperately sweat away our problems or our demons.  We may walk away from such grueling pursuits or obsessions with a sense of "high and mightiness"; stunning arm balances, kick ass abs, or buns of steel.  But are we happy?  Are we at peace?

 I have spent more years than I care to recall at war with myself via my body.  In reality I was punishing my body for the lack of clarity in my mind.  In hindsight, I believed that  if I could trick my mind into focusing on something completely innocent, it would forget what the REAL issue was and perhaps that issue would magically go away if I ignored it long enough.  The result was usually an unhealthy and unsustainable way of life and a mind that was weary from trying to outrun itself.

Enter: the practice of yoga!  As our yoga and meditation practice matures and deepens it leads us away from the combative and competitive notions that mislead us.  It opens us to approach not only our practice, ourselves, and the world, but life in general from a place of peace, compassion, and acceptance.  Breath by breath we begin to sort through the muck and mire of the psyche and the reasons for our inner combat become clearer and clearer.  We begin to see WHY we're punishing ourselves with "killer" classes that leave us wobbly, running or walking obsessively, eating too many Cheetos, drinking too much wine, smoking too many cigarettes, _____(fill in the blank).  Once the "why" becomes clear, the unraveling can begin and a truce can be called.  The inner skirmish is resolved and peace presides (at least until the next battle cry is heard).

It is not our purpose to punish, beat-up or belittle ourselves or others, but rather to experience our time with courage, light and freedom.

Try this:
The next time you come to your mat, take a few moments before you begin to investigate what you've brought with you to your practice.  Take a seat or lie on your back, settle into the rhythm of your breath and the sensations in your body.  Sit with what is present without labeling it as "good" or "bad".  Get quietly centered on the breath.  Listen.  Then set an intention to practice-to move and breathe with mindful awareness of what your body, your heart, and your soul needs.  Practice from a place of clarity, stability, and mindfulness, rather than with the intent to fuel the ego or slavishly burn calories to punish yourself over the fact that you ate an extra donut in the break room this morning.

We Have Not Come To Take Prisoners

by Hafiz

We have not come here to take prisoners,

But to surrender ever more deeply

To freedom and joy.

We have not come into this exquisite world

To hold ourselves hostage from love.

Run my dear,

From anything

That may not strengthen your wings.

Run like hell my dear,

From anyone likely

To put a sharp knife

Into the sacred, tender vision

Of your beautiful heart.

We have a duty to befriend

Those aspects of obedience

That stand outside of our house

And shout to our reason

"O please, O please,

Come out and play."

For we have not come here to take prisoners

Or to confine our wondrous spirits,

But to experience ever and ever more deeply

Our divine courage, freedom, and 

Light!

The Sea, The Sea...

Between dusk and dawn the weather is constantly changing,Bathing mountain and lake alike in radiant sunlight.

This radiant sunlight filled me with such joy,

That lost in delight I quite forgot to go home. 

When I left my valley the day had scarcely broken,

When I stepped into my boat the light was growing dim.

Forest and gorge were veiled in sombre colours,

Gay panoply of water-chestnuts, lotus,

Rushes and cattails growing side by side,

I swept them aside with my hands as I hastened 

southwards.

How glad I was to reach my house in the east!

Once the mind stops striving the world loses

importance,

Once the heart is content it does not swerve from the

truth.

I send these words to those who would nurture their

lives:

Try using this method if you want the truth.
(Xie Lingyun)

From the time I can first remember being near the ocean (Cape Cod, MA when I was three or four years old), I have been afraid of it, and rightly so I suppose.  The ocean is immense and powerful beyond measure.  It is also full of strange and otherworldly life forms.  It's depths are mysterious and dark.  There is something primal and ancient about the way it smells and moves.  In hindsight, perhaps I was just afraid; unable or unwilling to see what an apt metaphor for life it is: constantly changing, unimaginably beautiful, inconceivably unforgiving, calm and bright, and at times rough and stormy. 
I recently spent a transformative week at the beach.  Renting a house on the Outer Banks of North Carolina with friends, I fell in love with the ocean.  It ignited something deep inside of me, and I felt a profound spiritual shift take place.  Each morning my dear friend (and kindred spirit!), Andrea and I would get up just before sun-up, drink some tea (or coffee in her case-Andrea can't speak before she's had her coffee), pack up our yoga mats and blankets and walk quietly to the beach.  Silently spreading out our blankets and setting down our mats, we would fall right into our deep breathing and begin our separate yoga practices.  For me, asana practice (yoga postures) involves deep listening and movement from a place of inner wisdom and intuition.  Letting go of what each posture should "feel like" or "look like" and opening to what "is" and what my body, mind, and spirit need in this moment. Somehow, practicing near the ocean deepens this connection to intuition.
Each morning I would finish my asana practice and begin my zazen (seated meditation) practice with the feel of the warm wind on my face and the sound of the breathing surf in my ears.  A feeling of openness and contentment would radiate through me.  Often, at the end of my meditation I would be prompted to get up and stand in the surf, to feel the water and its movement and coolness on my skin, and to experience my connection to it all.
There was something about being there at the edge of the sea in those early morning hours with the smell and feel of the ocean breeze: the motion of my body, my breath, the soft, shifting sand beneath my feet and hands, and the pounding surf that awakened something within me.   Although that feeling is largely unexplainable, it was a feeling of pure freedom, a sensation of pure contentment, the notion of being a part of something complete and whole, like I had finally awoken.  I distinctly felt and understood that I am not in control, I never have been, I never will be, and that it was okay not to be.  Everything I am, everything that I have been, and everything that I will be is part of this amazing cycle of birth and death, rising and falling, earth and sky, day and night, beauty and ugliness.  Each one of us is connected to all that is, has been, and ever will be.  We are part of something so much bigger than ourselves.  This realization filled me with joy and a sense of awakening ("There are more things in heaven and earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." -Shakespeare's "Hamlet"). 
As the tide came in, I would stand in the churning surf, my body soft and yielding as the water swirled and waves crashed against my legs.  Rooting my bare feet into the sand I would feel the strong pull of the waves being drawn out with the tide.  There is a moment as the tide is being drawn back into the sea when the sand gives way beneath your feet.  If you panic, or react to that shift without mindfulness you may fall on your butt. However, if you notice the shift and softly stand your ground you start to be aware that although the ground is giving way beneath you, there is a new level of ground beneath it and you are supported.  
This is the essence of zazen practice.  It is truly the practice of freedom.  When you can just sit, having the experience you have, whatever it is, without comparing it to what it should be, you begin to have true ease and contentment (santosha in sanskrit) on your cushion/yoga mat or off.  Practicing asana in the the presence of the mighty sea, such awesome power and beauty, helped me to connect to this ease.  Practicing yoga and sitting in meditation roots us deeply into the truth and this truth is available at all times.  The ocean is indeed an apt metaphor for life.  I am grateful to say that I am no longer afraid...
"Once the mind stops striving the world loses importance,

Once the heart is content it does not swerve from the truth..."