Once I glow, I enter the room, and offer up my knowledge to those in attendance

Recently I taught the teacher trainees in Charm City Yoga’s low residency program.  My segment had to do with Protecting Yourself Energetically as Teacher.  Many of you reading this may find it strange that you would need to be protected as a Yoga Instructor. After all, all Yoga teachers are happy, healthy, perfectly in-balance, they don’t even need coffee (biggest lie going).  However, from the energetic perspective when you are holding the space for others to heal and let go (i.e. controlling the place where others are practicing) protective energetic boundaries for the teacher becomes important. I want to talk for a minute about the idea of boundary – boundary does not mean armor. Boundaries can be breached, they are permeable.  I think of a boundary, when I am teaching like a force field, in fact I imagine myself radiating white light numerous times during the classes I instruct.  I feel that that radiation makes me a creature of the light to my students – one they can trust and respect – but also protects and keeps my energetic boundaries safe. Okay, so what is this energy stuff all about?  Eastern Philosophy teaches us that we are all interconnected; that we are all in fact one.  Science for a long time pushed the idea of individuation but recently (and this is mind-blowing stuff) scientists have discovered a subset of our neurons known as “mirror neurons” , also called “Gandhi neurons”.  These neurons hardwire us for empathy.  So basically, if you see someone getting punched there is a part of your brain that says “ouch” and another part that hears...

May they be well. May they be free from suffering.

Since my post last week the earth has literally shifted beyond comprehension. What has unfolded and continues to unfurl in Japan is simply overwhelming.  My heart goes out to those who are actively undergoing these experiences and I wish them healing and light with every exhalation of my breath. Years ago on September 11th, when I was alone in a brand new city, I turned to Yoga as a way to have an immediate community.  During times like these, when the world is more out of control then normal, I actively try to draw my students together – chanting as one voice palm to interconnected palm. It makes me uncomfortable, in fact it scares me to do it but at these moments I teach prayer anyway.  I think at times like these, it is too important not to – basically it is worth being uncomfortable for. Last night, my beginning students stood in a circle. One palm to the next chanting with the intention of generating healing for those with them and those in Japan. We imagined filling the circle with light, filling ourselves with light, and then sending that energy we created over the water to Japan. After all, energy moves with intention: “May they be well, may they be free from suffering.” There is a feeling that comes over a room when it shifts into “like mind.” It is a beautiful and distinct energy and one that I recognize immediately in a group that I am leading. It happened last night, like I said – leading prayer, it is worth being uncomfortable...

In Yoga there is really no beginner class or advanced class there is only practice and the willingness to work your own edge.

Sustaining stillness in postures requires strength, concentration, and will.  During an extended period of holding, proper alignment becomes a necessity. After all, stacking your bones correctly affords a lot of extra strength.  It also safeguards you from injury, trains the muscles, and teaches you how to breathe through uncomfortable and difficult positions. I have found that stillness and strength, just like balance and focus, reside in the same space. Vinyasa or flow is the fluid elongation of the breath to generate movement. Inhale up dog; exhale down dog; inhale right for forward; exhale left foot forward, each wave of the breath generating a distinctive motion in the body. It is fast, it is powerful and if allowed the sustained focus can become so deep that it shifts to moving meditation. Flowing is liberating and makes you feel empowered; even brand new practitioners can whip there way through poses and feel like yogic rock-stars. But herein lies the rub; they will not be in alignment and they will struggle with the most basic aspect of Vinyasa, which is linking of the conscious breath to movement. In all actuality appropriate flow only grows from exploring stillness. In Yoga there is really no beginner class or advanced class there is only practice and the willingness to work your own edge. Often what we perceive to be easy is the most difficult. Next time you go to class, put your ego down and give yourself the opportunity to learn alignment and explore your breath. Then from that place of awareness, take on the challenge of hurtling yourself through the poses while riding the...

It is not about perfection that is why it is called practice.

Not to be snotty but I have maintained a daily practice for over a decade.  It became my touchstone during a very difficult time and has remained so ever since.  Through my practice, I breathe myself into a place of action rather than reaction. Allowing my postures and meditative practices to become a reflection of where I am currently. When you practice something daily, in whatever discipline you choose, that practice will grow and change and shift with time.  Although now my practice is a mirror for my current state of being it took a very long time for it to become so. When I first started with Yoga, my type A-personality was desperate for perfection in my practice (and life in general). I forced myself to bend and shift, stretch and strain, even in my meditations. To be honest, there was an unhealthy forcefulness with how I came to the mat and manipulated myself through my practice. After many years of pushing myself in every direction, I went down for the count with chronic fatigue.  That time in my life, although it at first appeared like a curse, was really a blessing. Over several years I used Yoga, Reiki, and Hypnosis to heal myself. It was during that time of healing that I realized yoga is not about perfection. Quite simply, that is why it is called:  practice.  As my perception shifted, how I engaged in practice shifted as well.  Instead of force, I began to move to my mat with compassion and make inquiries into the nature of my mind, body, and spirit. Those first few breaths...

Yoga at The Baltimore Museum of Art

During college, I took yoga as my gym credit.  The practice transformed me, as it does, deepening my ability to be present. Ultimately, that awareness rippled off the mat, making me better at ferreting out the subtler aspects of composition, technique, and story in my art historical studies. Back then, I spent a lot of time meditating in galleries at the local museum, using objects as my point of focus. Both Yoga and art, as practices, require: discipline, introspection, contemplation, and focus so deep that it becomes a meditation.  In Yoga, each breath builds on the next; in art, each artist builds on the ones who came before them. There is a flow to both; an unfolding is intrinsic to each. I wonder, the last time you went to a museum, did you actually see the art? Are you sure? Seems strange but most museum visitors will spend less than three seconds looking at an object.  Which begs the actual question: “were you even present for that bit of time?” Recently I shared with my yoga students at The Baltimore Museum of Art how I came to design a public program where art history and yoga are interwoven.  Although there are many reasons (including that it is the coolest thing ever to do yoga next to a Rembrandt), I realized as I said it: “my true goal with this class is to teach you to not just look, I want you to actually...

Practice is not defined by time

For years I had tried to create space for a daily yoga practice in my life.  I marked out hours on my schedule, kept a mat on the floor, talked myself into poses, and sometimes even managed to practice several days running. Still even those on some level fell short. It wasn’t until I had worked a fourteen hour day and was berating myself for not immediately moving to my mat that I finally understood that my thought patterns were holding me back. At some point I had conditioned myself to believe that a daily practice was only if an hour or more had passed.    That night my perspective on what a daily practice was shifted drastically and I took in with a little more than a breath that practice is not defined by time; practice simply means practice.  Through that shift in my mindset finding space in my life to practice came easy and at some point, although I always move to my mat with a particular intention, fitting it in is now merely a habit.     In hindsight it seems so simple. Yet it took me years to find my way to that understanding. More than ten have passed since that moment, and I am grateful each day as I take time to find my breath and connect to my deeper...