After a lovely warm, quiet teachers’ practice yesterday, I got to thinkin’, I did. There are so many qualities of yoga that we can either ramp up or dial down: contemplative, enthusiastic, sweaty and rockin’, disciplined, et cetera ad infinitum as far as I can tell. That is, I have yet to truly discover the limit of “what is yoga” in terms of the essential quality of a class.
Yet we keep thinking that we can expect a quality out of our teachers or styles that will remain consistent, and I suppose we’re right to do so, since we’re smart and busy people and we deserve to spend our time and our energy in a way that actually rewards our intention [to contemplate, to get sweaty, &c.] It’s a short step from expectation to limitation, though. Or to put it another way, what you think you want out of your yoga can be a trap. And what you think a certain kind of yoga “should be” can also be a trap.
Anusara Yoga consists entirely of straight-legged lunges. That's all you're gonna get to do.
Students are always asking, “What is Anusara Yoga? What make it different from other kinds of yoga? Why should I go to that class as opposed to another style?” It’d be disingenuous of me at this point to pretend that I don’t want them to come to an Anusara class, or that I don’t care what style they practice. Of course I care. I didn’t shift my teaching and my training in this direction randomly; I chose it based on its merits and its pragmatic results both in my personal practice and the manifestation I saw in our community. So I get this question and I’m somewhat nonplussed even though it’s like the simplest, most reasonable question to ask. I think, Should I try to “sell” it since I believe in it so deeply? Or should I tell the truth, which is that the style is defined only by our limited beliefs about it? (more…)
I’m venturing into the wyld interior to visit their vibrant yoga community and hang out for a couple of days…wanna come with?
Oh man, it looks so warm and pretty in this picture.
March 5-7. The workshop’s overarching theme is the cultivation of a living practice, just in time for Spring. With the good weather of the February stretch in full swing on this sunny afternoon I’m feeling particularly inspired. Please contact Pauline Livingstone at www.missionyogastudio.com or phone her at 250.764 .4482 for more details or to enrol. See you there!
Either karma or simple hubris has given me a smackdown: in exchange for bragging to my Ontario friends that I rarely get sick, both M and I have caught this weird, feverish cold complete with cranial pressure that could restore a punctured inner tube. [AUTHOR'S NOTE: This proved to be a virulent strep throat in between writing this and posting it, details are available here.] It is not in my nature to be able to stay home guilt-free without accomplishing *something*, so I’m lurching around doing the dishes and rewatching Star Trek and trying to let the thoughts and inspirations of the holidays congeal into something intelligible. There were many thoughts and many inspirations so this is a bit daunting: I’ve elected to choose a frame for them that I hope will encompass them all. Good luck, Sjanz.
this is, apparently what little boys are made of
This frame was inspired by an episode of NOVA that my Mom PVRed, about fractals and their applications. If desired, and I recommend it, you can watch the whole thing here. I fell in love with fractals in late elementary school/early high school, and it turns out M did as well, only across the country from me. I felt the whole show was a good primer on how this sort of geometry works, and it also explored what I found the super-fascinating element: how fractal geometry was considered this maverick, outlying concept, voodoo mathematics if you like, when we now consider it quite conventional. That’s an old story, that you can’t keep ‘em down on the mental farm after they’ve see Paree, but I’m going to use the P word and say that the paradigm of fractal geometry represents a guideline for how we are to proceed as a species into the future with any sort of integrity. And not just in math and science, because what I know about true mathematics can be inscribed with a blunt crayon around the inside of a shot glass. No, I’m talking about creativity, spirit, healing and consciousness, and I’m going to try to keep my skull well-attached as I do so, because these are subjects that tend to inflate and become overly grandiose. NOTE: I own no tie-dyed clothing and only one pair of MEC sunglasses that are NOT blue or pink coloured and do not flip up like Dwayne Wayne. I just wanted to make that clear.
Being sick is for chumps. I’ve been home for 11 days. The bright side, if this situation can be said to have a bright side, is that my lying-around-on-the-couch chops are really honed in time for the post-season. Also, let the record show that yes we overprescribe antibiotics and yes “Western medicine” is scrip-happy, but when you need antibiotics YOU NEED THEM. I presented with the kind of throat infection that made my dr. say “Eurgh!” when I said “aaaah”. You get no countercultural points staying at home with a fever.
Now that I’m lucid and mobile enough to prepare my own food, here’s an immune-boosting brothstravaganza that soothes the savage throat. Inspired by phó but beefless:
In a medium soup pot, bring 8 cups water to a boil with:
3 cloves garlic, skins on, flattened with the side of a knife
2 oz. dried mushrooms [we used chanterelles because that's what we had; shiitake would be even better]
1 thumb sized piece of ginger; peel it, set aside about a knuckle-sized peeled chunk, slice the rest thinly and put the thin slices and the peel in the water
That's what the julienne peeler does for the carrot
3 dried Thai chilis
1/2 tsp white peppercorns
1/2 tsp pink peppercorns
2 tsp coriander seeds
the top and tail of a carrot [you'll need the rest below]
the top and tail and leaves of a celery stick [see below]
the top, tail, and half of a white onion, sliced [now you're gettin' it]
5 stars of star anise
1 tsp whole cloves
1 tsp kosher salt
This whole shootin’ match should be brought to a boil, then lowered to simmer, and simmered for as long as you can stand it or until all the colour has been leached out of your veggies and your whole house smells like star anise. Strain and RESERVE THE LIQUID; throw away the spices and veggies. Set stock aside.
H/t Oli, who turned us on to the Infinite Cat Project.
If you've ever wondered what Velcro is like, he's like this, only gay.
Happy New Year Metta-heads! There’s something so epic-sounding about “2010″, isn’t there? Perhaps it’s an Arthur C. Clarke thing.
We’ve been celebrating the holidays by bringing some old traditions back [Nanaimo bars and football] and welcoming some new traditions [family Rockband tours]. At first it seemed weird to be all hanging out in the living room getting ready to play Skynyrd, but in another way, it was so very right. It helped me get fired up for the one-time only return of BRF: The Revenge, and here’s what we grooved to:
“For Those About To Rock [We Salute You]“, AC/DC
“Eye Of The Tiger”, Survivor
“Jump”, Van Halen
THANK YOU ST. LOUIS! OR WHEREVER I AM!
“Don’t Stop Believing”, Journey
“Somebody”, Bryan Adams
“Always On The Run”, Lenny Kravitz and Slash
“Consolers of the Lonely”, The Raconteurs [Jack White came up several times in various conversations on New Years' Eve, which in my flaky way I considered a sign of a synchronicity vortex. Also, the song is made of win. It sounds sort of pointy and gristly which made it a perfect choice for binds and Tittbhasana. Also we think that Jack White and Jack Black should TOTALLY get together and do some sort of arcane project.]
“Have You Ever Been [To Electric Ladyland]“, Hendrix
“All The Young Dudes”, Mott the Hooples
“Simple Man”, Lynyrd Skynyrd
“Thank You”, Led Zeppelin
“Wanted Dead Or Alive”, Bon Jovi
“Easy”, Faith No More [by way of the Commodores]
“More Than Words”, Extreme
“Across the Universe”, Beatles
I was so stoked to have something to post that I left most of the good bits off of this post, making it pseudo-controversial and sparking some good comments and conversation. It’s hard to keep all my rants in alphabetical order. This one, for instance, was under “H” for “toy”.
A fascinating conversation with a long-time student and friend yielded the following contemplation: What is the purpose of cultivating diversity in asana practice, apart from impressing your friends and intimidating your enemies? L-TS&F was pondering why they [apologies for the third person plural, but there we have it] felt naturally drawn to certain families of poses and not to others, and wanted to know whether the overall intention of Anusara Yoga was the most well-rounded practice possible.
The Rhodes not taken
See, this is one of those conversations that seems pretty simple on the surface and then the bottom drops out. I pictured the Anusara Syllabus poster in my mind, which is basically a Mandarin All-You-Can-Eat Buffet of yoga asana and so of course I’m thinking right off the bat, Yes, the overall intention of Anusara Yoga is the most well-rounded asana practice possible. Sounds good, right? A part of your nutritious breakfast. Philosophically speaking, we are taught that it is through diversity and expanded experience that the Divine comes to know itself better, and by creating more forms, we create more consecrated expansion of the Supreme Spirit. Phew. Not bad for a morning’s work.
Then we get into it and they say, Well, if that’s so, why do I experience resistance to certain poses or groups of poses, and why do I delight in others? Should I be choking down these other forms because they’ll be good for me [the Broccoli Theory of yoga] even though they make me not want to practice, or bum me out? They told me that they used to be “up for anything”: that is, the novelty of their practice ensured that there was a little adventurous spark and receptivity in every single class, and now that their sensitivity and self-honouring was increasing it was becoming more and more challenging to acknowledge the good in classes that favoured these less-pleasant poses. Sure, they could window-dress it in the dowdy frumpiness of classical philosophy: discipline and mindfulness and all that other bushwa, but if they honestly addressed their inner condition [which presumably a seeker is being asked to do], it wasn’t the same and it wasn’t pleasant. (more…)
I know that the gift-giving tyme is upon us so it’s somewhat perverse to be gassing on and on about the stuff that I’ve got for *myself*. So much for the reason for the season. I just happened to look around our dishevelled home and was so comforted and delighted to see so many things that have improved my life this winter. I’m also attempting to promulgate the idea that yes, a yogi can enjoy stuff and even want to have more of it: shocking, I know. Also, link farm. By the way, do you know this blog averages 400 spam comments a day? I wipe the sweat off my brow as I delete massive chunks of ostensibly nude celebrity pics and various forms of, um, enhancement. (more…)
I can’t believe it’s only been a year since I started the ol’ Heavy Metta digs. After David Foster Wallace’s death and my increased participation in the Yoga4Kidz relay I realized I couldn’t hide under the bed in this life anymore; at some point I was going to have to venture out and say what I wanted to say. Well, I’m saying it! I’m saying it so loudly and so often that my throat gets a little sore and my I feel like I have no skin on my body. This, dear readers, is a sign of misalignment. My sluggish posting rate is not due to any distrust in the blog-medium or a lack of desire to connect and reconnect with the Tubes and my friends thereon: it’s because, as the seasons change, I feel that desire to hide under the bed again [especially after purchasing my new wool duvet...snuzzle!], and maybe [given the massive transformations of '09] that’s not such a bad thing.
I’m also preparing some weapons-grade rant-casseroles that I’ll serve up when they’re hot and the cheese is browned.