Why be still?

  Stillness is an action. It requires effort. It requires focus. It requires a willingness to be present in order to remember to be still. Stillness is important to many aspects of the practice. In postures stillness can generate strength in the more active poses and aid relaxation in the more quieted ones.  If stillness is coupled with breath awareness a powerful entrance point to meditation is activated. Keep thinking about it and the power of stillness will keep expanding. In my classes when stillness is requested most of my students will become mostly “still”. Many will continue to actively wipe and wiggle, blink, and adjust. Sometimes these movers and shakers send off electrical firestorms inspiring bursts of movement by their neighbors.   Lately I have been using guilt to make my students be still.  Admittedly, I feel a little guilty about it but it is surprisingly effective.  And maybe, in this one instance my Mom’s logic is right. Maybe “I am not guilting, so much as reminding them” that our actions impact others. Next time you are moving through your personal practice in a community space and stillness is requested of you – put forth some focused effort – try to be honestly still and offer that energy out to the healing of your neighbor....

Learn to breathe through discomfort

This past year I feel like I have been seated in a sea of discomfort in many of the facets that make up my life.  Nothing is horrible but it is uncomfortable. I feel wiggly inside and often I want to run away. If you start to feel uncomfortable or hurt, sad, tired, depressed, or angst ridden, where do you go? Are you able to allow yourself your feeling? Or do you cover it over, metaphorically burying the sharp object in the sand, and try to pretend it isn’t there. Choose your poison, the list of ways to escape is endless. I believe that a powerful tool that rolls off of the yoga mat into our daily life is the requirement that we actively practice presence while remaining in discomfort.   Recently I was flipping through Teaching Yoga and stumbled on this simple yet encapsulating statement: In [practice], stay in non-painful discomfort – breathe and transform. Relate the discomfort in [practice] to the discomfort in life…stay with the difficult feelings as a way to explore breakthroughs, cultivating balance and strength in the [practice] and applying this to the healing process. ~ Teaching Yoga by Mark...

I am the edge of the cliff. The ending and beginning

Because the majority of my work is voice based my voice is often tired.  I talk and talk and talk and talk – I tell stories, I boss students about how to move their bodies, and I hold my clients hands when I tell them the honest and hard truth. Sometimes, I will literally speak for eight hours straight. Those days I am so tired of hearing myself that when I have the luxury I stay quiet.  I don’t call my friends or family, I don’t seek out dinner companions, instead I sit still and in silence, usually in the bathtub, probably with the lights out. Like a singer, this last week I injured my voice.  My big powerful beautiful strong voice is currently muted.  I can speak but it is not suppose to be above a whisper and in truth it is not suppose to be at all.  As soon as my doctor told me that I had to shut-up I realized that I had so much I wanted to say pretty much to everyone – especially those I love. Yet this time silence is not a luxury. Silence is not a gift to myself. Silence is now both my practice and my healer.  Freaking silence. So I am practicing remembering to remember to be silent.  To say the least it is hard, it requires effort, it makes me uncomfortable – if I were in front of a yoga room right now I would say that this serves a purpose. That this discomfort will agitate me to grow. Maybe it will but right now when I am out...