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OPEN MIND OPEN BODY The Yoga of Connection |
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Week 22: Home Two
experiences have shaped the last month for me – first is the experience of
being very sick. It was, I think, a virus that has been going around – nothing
life-threatening, but the kind of sickness that completely knocks you off your
feet and leaves you unable to do anything except be very still, try to breathe
calmly, and get through it. The other experience has been moving homes –
I’m taking a new full-time position at Stanford University, and I’m moving
to live closer to campus. Leaving the city of San Francisco, where I have lived
for years, and in particular, the magical little cottage I live in now, was a
difficult decision to make. Right
in the middle of all this – while I was recovering from being sick, and just
starting to deal with the nitty gritty practical details (not to mention the
emotional side) of moving - I
attended the International Yoga Therapy conference in Tiburon, California. At
one session, yoga therapist Julie Rappaport guided us through the practice of
partnering up and co-designing a yoga practice designed for whatever issues each
of us was dealing with. When it was time for me and my partner and to design a
practice for me, the issue that came to mind was dealing with the transitions of
taking a new job and moving. We came up with a few ideas for yoga practices that
might be helpful, but what really resonated was when we struck upon the idea of
creating a practice that would help me to focus on the feeling and idea of
“home”. So
then I set about thinking: What kind of yoga practices would make me feel at
home? And what exactly is the feeling of being “at home”? On
the discussion board, we’ve been talking about affirmations or mantras that
describe the psychological and spiritual aspects of specific yoga poses. For
example: Navasana, Boat
Pose Paschimottonasana, seated forward bend “I am safe. I
am sound.” When
I was sick, wrapped in four blankets and still shivering, the phrase “I am
safe” came to mind. I repeated it as a breath meditation – every exhale,
repeating in my mind, “I - am - safe.” There was a deep knowing that this
was true, despite my discomfort and weakness and pain. This
also calls to mind something I heard poet and author Maya Angelou say about one
of her own favorite affirmations: “God – loves – me.” She described how
those words were magical, how they resonated deeply with her soul. There is
something in that phrase even for those who are not religious. Perhaps the
feeling that “the universe has a place for me.” When
I think about what home is, it’s that feeling – those two affirmations,
combined. The feeling of being safe and loved. I
often describe the first goal of yoga as finding a way to make your mind, and
body, a “safe place to be.” Finding a way to always be at home. Just today,
I came across a study that looked at the psychological changes associated with
spiritual practice. They found two important changes – an increase in
optimism, or the belief that “no matter what, I will be OK”, and an increase
in perceived social support, or the belief that “no matter what, others will
be there for me.” When I read that study, I had already been thinking about
those two mantras – “I am safe” and “God loves me”. And I realized
they were essentially the same thing as what this study found. Spiritual
practice makes life feel like “home”. When
I was thought about the yoga practice that feels like “home” for me, I
realized it was also the same yoga practice I’ve turned to every time I’ve
been sick, and have recovered enough to begin asana practice again. It is the
sequence of seated postures in the Ashtanga Vinyasa primary series, also known
as “yoga chikitsa”, or yoga therapy. This sequence was my main asana
practice for a couple of years, so of course the familiarity of it made it feel
like home. But there is more to it than that. The
sequence includes mostly forward bends, with some very centered balancing poses.
I realize that the forward bends make me feel cared for, and the balancing poses
make me feel safe in my own steadiness. I was surprised that this practice was
“home” for me – when I had thought about it intellectually, I expected
that it would include forward bends and restorative poses, certainly not the
fairly challenging poses of the primary series. The
balancing poses shouldn’t have surprised me, though. One of the most
meaningful insights I’ve even had in my spiritual practice came from a
conversation with one of teachers, in which she asked me what I needed to hear
(or really, what I needed to know) that would end the cycle of anxiety and fear.
In that conversation, I realized what I needed to hear was that “No matter
what happens, I can handle it.” That is the feeling I get when grounded in an
arm balance or settled comfortably in boat pose – total steadiness, despite
the challenge. In
the middle of moving from one home to another, I find myself practicing this
sequence over my usual self-guided, creative, freestyle asana practices. The
practice has helped remind me that a large part of my move is to return to a
community that indeed does feel like home – a community of friends,
colleagues, and students, all of whom feel like family. With this focus in mind,
the usual tasks of moving has become less stressful. Packing, downsizing my
possessions, saying good-bye to my current neighborhood and neighbors, even
dealing with the part of me who identifies so much with where I live, and what
it means to leave my colorful and diverse neighborhood in San Francisco and
return to a quiet suburban town. As
it turns out, it’s not so much the box I live in that makes feel at home.
It’s not even the culture and energy of the city I live in. Just like I was
surprised by the yoga practice that felt like home – that it would be this
sequence of postures, well-practiced, that slowly and systematically deepens my
ability to surrender, through forward bends, and find center, through balancing
poses – I am surprised by the current choices and changes in my life that feel
like home. And it makes the physical move and period of transition seem both
safe and like returning to a series of simple actions and roles that remind me
the universe has a place for me. I encourage you think about what yoga practice feels like home, to you. What practice makes you feel safe and cared for. What you need to hear, or know, to realize that you are safe and cared for – and what poses carry that message to you.
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