Keep on till the early morn, even if your left nostril and sinus are plugged and you consist almost entirely of homeopathic zinc tablets. Yeah, I’ve caught whatever weird cold has been circulating but I simply couldn’t bear to give up the centrepiece of my teaching week. This one is a bit schizoid, inspired in part by some requests, some love songs, and also by a big brainstorming session that I had with M’s family where we talked about songs that crossed the supposedly impenetrable Rap v. Rock barrier. Enjoy!

INTRO to “Brothers Gonna Work It Out”, Chemical Brothers

If there's anything made of more pure win than this video, I haven't seen it

“The Lesson”, The Roots

“Release Yo’ Delf [Prodigy Mix]“, Method Man

“Walk This Way“, Run DMC & Aerosmith

“Sabotage”, Beastie Boys

“B-Boy Stance”, k-os

“Jurass Finish First”, Jurassic 5

“Everything Is Everything”, Lauryn Hill

“All Falls Down”, Kanye West

“Freedom”, Jurassic 5

“All That You Are”, The Foreign Exchange

“Geto Heaven Part Two”, Common

“Respiration”, Black Star

“Sunshine”, Handsome Boy Modeling School feat. just about every indieish Manhattan musician in the early aughts

“The Healer”, Erykah Badu

“Stay With You”, John Legend

“All I Wanna Do”, Jamie Lidell

Posted for truth, and hilarity. H/t Andrew and Geordie.

True scholars of Tantric philosophy might get some eyerolls out of this post and perhaps I will come to eyeroll myself in the future, as my understanding of these concepts deepens. For now I’ve really been enjoying framing my personal work in this way; it seems to help me keep my eyes on the prize and generate more awareness of what I need to support and pursue.

Seven Inquiries for a Darn Good Day

1.What’s actually going on?
Am I in the world, or fantasizing about black helicopters/faeries/living in the woods? Dreaming is great of course, particularly positive visualization, but am I prone to wishing for a deus ex machina to come and fix all of my problems…winning the lottery or similar? My reality-meter is most prone to breaking when it comes to people [e.g. crowds in the urban environment], so am I railing and storming against people who double-park or hit me in the eye with their umbrella-edges?

2.What have my previous experience and studies taught me?
I may mangle this quote; it’s something about how insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly but expecting different results each time. Without crossing the tissue-thin boundary into prejudice, self-knowledge is mirrored in our ability to see and acknowledge patterns in our world. Our brains aren’t in there just to keep our skulls from collapsing, even if we practice yoga.

3.Do I give myself permission to feel joy?
Many times I notice I haven’t even provided the option of being happy. It just never occurs to me. My reasoning can range from “I don’t deserve it” to “There’s too many other things going on”. Now, this doesn’t mean it’s just going to HAPPEN but make sure you’ve at least made it a possibility, ya dig?

4.Have I curtailed my inherent freedom in some way? Do I feel free to make change and shift and grow?
This is a toughie because I think it can tend towards victim-blaming or the most rank sort of privileged “Everything I have I got from pulling myself up by the bootstraps” nonsense. Just dreaming of food when you are in poverty is not enough to feed you; this world is relative [see #1] and we are in it, so our freedom is limited in some pretty crucial ways. That being said, my needs are certainly met and then some, so have I perhaps forgotten the RESPONSIBILITY that comes with freedom? Am I doing the work necessary to choose my intention mindfully?

5.Do I permit my experience to oscillate, to ebb and flow?
We’ve been watching old SuperBowls on ESPN Classic. The most amazing part of competitive sports, to me, is how the good players and the great coaches are able to process a loss. Some of them go squirrelly, it’s true [my God you can almost see Rex Grossman's mind coming apart in that SB against the Colts...it's a bit frightening] but the good ones have a healthy place for loss in their minds, a place that lets them go forward with [if anything] an increased zeal to win [viz. 1972 Dolphins]. I’m notorious for thinking that this time, this day where my energy is low, this class where I misspoke or screwed up my theme, represents a downward-plumetting slope from which it will be impossible to recover. You can’t win ‘em all, dude.

6.Do I put mental limits on the abundance and creative power of the world, and of myself? Is this world beautiful to me, even with its flaws? Am I beautiful to myself?
Another perilously Celestine-Prophecyish one like #4. Careful there, Warren Buffetts of the world: unlimited abundance may or may not take the form of market speculation or mutual funds. I did start to realize when I was learning about these concepts that my Dutch-Calvinist-Bible-Camp childhood revolted strongly at the idea that for everything good in your life you would have to pay with suffering of some sort. It was like I had a split in my mind that could’t do the math of abundance; I just did not understand where that opulence of spirit and health and love was going to come from. I am, on this matter, in progress.

Also, see #1. Over the years I’ve inexpertly ranted about our preference for exoticism and the vacation/tourist mentality that prevents us from seeing the immediate beauty that’s right in front of us. Then I go ahead and do the same exact thing. My advice to you and to myself today: Don’t wait to shell out a couple of grand before you look around you and sigh with pleasure. Even if your surroundings are somewhat seedy: I’ll tell ya, I miss Gandhi Roti at Queen and Bathurst something fierce. Now THAT’S beautiful. Practice not limiting your concept of what’s appealing to the senses. The strong correlation here to self-image is too much for this post, but you can see where I’m going with that…man, that is hard [and good] work…

7.Can I hold in my mind the paradox of the perfection and fullness of this moment, while simultaneously striving to be better and create more?
I’ve noticed this in the yoga community often: the idea that the reason why you undertake work is to correct/fix/adjust. It can be dressed up in the most flowery language and still, at the heart is this rotten nut of UR DOIN IT RONG. Admittedly, this is another paradox, but it’s so beneficial for our spirits. Do the work for the joy of doing the work. Do the work because it is our nature to grow. Nothing to correct, nothing wrong with you, no deep-seated flaws that have to be purified in the flames of doing stuff that’s weird or unpleasant or fancy. I am loving practicing in this way, even though it is tough for my brain to hold these two ideas at once. All in good time.

On that note, I’m off to class. Mmmm…yoga…

This post doubles an excuse to post this old picture of me in the rainforest in Martinique. This was before my discovery of Anusara, even. How time flies…

You ever see a picture of yourself where you're so young you seem like a stranger? Yeah.

Workshops are probably the most optimal way to experience the Anusara method; they are an opportunity to get into some of the sweet details and specifics of philosophy that we don’t always get a chance to explore in a public class. So please join me, either in the Comox Valley or in Burnaby, for one of these workshops in February…

Feb 13-15, Courtenay BC [for details contact netsirktreblig AT hotmail]

Feb 27-Mar 1, Burnaby BC [please see the Yatra Yoga website for details and to enrol]

Both workshops will explore studentship, or adhikara, a process of bringing consciousness and balance to all aspects of the self, in order to elevate and transform us. For me, this discovery was the real mind-blower. Even after many years of practice, and some Anusara studies, I hadn’t really felt how all the pieces came together until we did this work in our Immersion. I make this inquiry into my adhikara daily, and I cannot overstate its importance in my life. If you’ve had questions about Anusara Yoga or just want to round out your practice, let’s hang out for a weekend.

Republicans vs. Democrats, Mac vs. PC, Trek vs. Wars, Big Rock Friday vs. Big Hip Hop Friday: shall we ever find peace? I was greeted with a subversively unyogic arena-rock chant at my last class: ROCK! ROCK! ROCK!/HIP HOP! HIP HOP! HIP HOP! [which, to be clear, doesn't really scan]. Don’t hate the MP3 playa, hate the game: in this case, the game that’s got us thinking these styles of music as are Radically Different as radio stations† and video channels would have us believe. Sure, they’re different, doy, but they’ve both been developing to extraordinary depths over the last coupla decades [Lupe Fiasco OMG!] and as my friend Mr. Goodtimes used to say, when you reject an entire genre of music it’s like cutting off one of your fingers. He was talking specifically about musicians, so if you happen not to play anything let’s say it’s like cutting off one of your ears. And you only have two: One for Big Rock Friday, and one for Big Hip Hop Friday. Heeeere we go…

This one ended up a) kinda jazzy and b) a lot of love songs and [Heh.] body related songs. Not intentional, just kinda happened. To address the vicious rumours that I have created BHHF to refer to Teh Buttocks more often, it’s TOTALLY TRUE: Take the tops of the thighs back. Take the inner groins back and apart. Balance this opening with the tailbone rooting down. The beatings will continue until morale improves

“Call My Name”, Prince

“Ready or Not”, Fugees

“Flute Loop”, Beastie Boys

“Around The Way Girl”, LL Cool J [I loved this song when I was a tween. I had a Vuarnet bath towel and the Rosie-Perez-esque black Lycra-blend sundress with the sunflowers all over it and the flip-top Dwayne Wayne sunglasses, o rly]

Shout out to high school French class

“Just A Friend”, Biz Markie

“Ms Fat Booty”, Mos Def

“Happy Valentine’s Day”, André 3000

“Superstar”, Lupe Fiasco

“Compromise”, Shad [Coming to Vancouver on Feb. 21!!!1!!oneone!!]

“They Say”, Common feat. John Legend

“Happiness”, Dead Prez

“Namaste”, Beastie Boys

“Letter from Yokosuka”, Nujabes

“Alright”, D’Angelo

“Take Your Time”, Al Green feat. Corinne Bailey Rae

“How Long Has This Been Going On”, Brad Mehldau

†I realize the plural of anecdote is not data, and any representative of Vancouver’s rock radio stations is welcome to set me straight on this point, but M reports having never heard either Bad Brains or Living Colour on CFOX or Rock 101, at least not since this whole telecommunications-buyout juggernaut. Contrast that with an abundance of Beastie Boys or Average White Band [who don't even play rock IMHO]. <sings> One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just isn’t the same…sigh.

This is an idea that’s still a bit in embryo and it is important to me to be candid about it while at the same time not insulting any performers or putting them down, so we’ll see how artfully I dodge those perils. If I’ve been a jerk and seem to not notice, let me know in comments.

I have been plagued in recent years with a bit of a disconnect, one that has partially given rise to Big Fridays and one that I’m constantly trying to clear up and see with greater focus exactly where the split is: the disconnect between my tastes aesthetically which are passionate and sometimes straight-up vulgar and colourful and wild, [and FIRMLY in a North American framing viz. jazz, hip-hop, Southern fried rock, graffiti and similar] and my discipline which is yoga…

Number one with a bullet

…associated, among other things, with white pajamas and chanting and mantra and silence and stillness and quiet and the total opposite of everything above. And I don’t think I’m the only person that feels that way. I have always disliked having to become other than myself on the mat, and I’m so intensely grateful that I’ve found a style of yoga that encourages me to become MORE myself both on and off. Of course I love silent practice and deep meditation; I’ve actually even made my peace with kirtan which I never thought I would enjoy, thanks in part to excellent musicians like Shantala. I’m not all idiotic lyrics and drastic gestures. I just wish there was more room for the fire, colour and sound in our cultural perception of yoga.

Because then maybe artists would feel more comfortable embarking on a practice without fearing that they will lose their fire, colour and sound; and artists need yoga in a big way, since navigating the internal storms without some kind of stabilizing guide or influence has led to many tragic ends.

The problem is often when artists discover their practice, they do end up a bit: washed-out. Perhaps the calming comfort of the practice itself ends up dulling the edges a little bit. Okay, I’m just going to come out and say it: I’m thinking of Sting here. With all due respect for a musical elder statesman, I much prefer his earlier work to his post-yoga work. So I have some choices here:

1. I can pretend the shift in his sound is unrelated to his spiritual discipline which seems disingenuous [see the comment on the "Fragile" YouTube link where someone is intending to add this song to a disc to play during esthetics treatments...oh, man.]

2. I can refute my own tastes and make it a personal practice to see the merit in his later work, which seems forced and unnecessary

3. I can start to examine what specifically it is about this practice that makes it hard to fuse with the belly-fire of creative work, and then teach to that so that as many people who need the practice as possible are brought on board.

Well, that wasn’t much of a choice; I’ve obviously gone with #3, but I did wonder about the first two for a while when I was still singing regularly. Almost weekly I am asked whether or not I chant or lead kirtan and I say that I haven’t studied it, which is true, but it’s also true that I haven’t studied it because frankly when the iPod comes on I’m going for Wu-Tang. Is that terrible?

My friend and teacher Christine has always been honest about not enjoying the words “dispassion” or “non-attachment” that crop up so regularly in our little subculture; if I understand her correctly, she believes [and I agree] that it is our passion for growth and our hunger to be reunited with the divine that brings us on the mat or on the meditation cushion and we should in fact be attached, violently so, to this vision of our own light. I have had many vibrant, creative friends express to me that they feel a bit ambivalent about pursuing yoga because they are under the impression that it will reduce that passion, that attachment, that leads them to create.

Quite honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without this practice to help me live. Even just day to day, the most prosaic decisions about my lifestyle, health and emotional well-being are informed and cultivated through yoga. I see my life and the world through a yogic lens, and that seems to be much more suited to my biochemistry than seeing it through what might otherwise be termed my “artistic temperament”. Actually, “artistic temperament” is a nice way of putting it; “crazy as a mud-bug” is likely more accurate. I refuse to believe I am the only artist who has found solace in yoga. I feel it has saved my life.

Unfortunately my creative output has, as feared, been dwindling to a trickle over the years. This blog represents a triumph of my will over my tendencies [muscle energy hugging to the midline, if you like] since left to my own devices I would just save these up for epic rants and inflict them on friends and family. It is a matter of some speculation as to whether this trickling creative output is a function of my practice or completely unrelated and just a somewhat discouraging coincidence.

Maybe I am still just as creative as I ever was except my medium has shifted, and my teaching receives that energy more than singing. Yet we are taught that shakti is unlimited in its capacity to grow and produce; it’s not like it runs out like an RRSP or the oil sands or something.

Anyway, this is my call to myself and to all of my many artist/yogi friends: Show your audiences and viewers and readers how yoga is EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of bland neutrality or artifice, in the hopes that we can save more lives and generate more beauty for years to come.

As part of the great legacy that Christmas holidays gives to us each and every year, M and I have been spending our evenings watching, uh, “classic” movies on MovieTime or APTN or whatever station hapless enough to get their hands on a print. Day before yesterday it was “Major League” and “White Men Can’t Jump” [spoiler: they CAN, but only when extremely motivated]. Last night it was “Star Trek V: The Final Frontier” which I whined a bit about at first but turned out to be a hidden gem, at least from my rarefied perspective as yoga teacher.

The gist is this: A rogue Vulcan has gone all touchy-feely and is looking to ensnare a starship so he can journey to the centre of the galaxy, beyond the ostensibly dangerous Great Barrier, and find a mystical planet where God is said to live. So far so good, right?

I also have a line of vitamins and trace minerals, which you can order from my website as soon as I receive FDA approval.

He’s also got one of those crazy brain-talents that they use on Star Trek to save on FX, like he’s a telepath or an empath or a Redpath or one of those; he can see peoples’ deep sadness, and he can actually create a little 3D vision of the story of their sadness right there in the room for other people to see as well. Needless to say this proves to be very compelling for most of the characters, since most of us are indeed burdened with sadness. He works up a good crew of followers and his clothes, already pretty robe-like, become robes for real, and his hair, already pretty prophet-like, becomes like Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments, &c.

Now, the whole premise of the show is that they boldly go where no one has gone before, so I think a part of the viewer is prepared to see them go past the Great Barrier [which turns out to be a bunch of laser pointers; man I love Star Trek] find this mystical planet and see God, or at least a version of same. What you don’t count on is how seductive Touchy Feely Vulcan’s promise is, and how obscenely pleasant it is to see our [well, mine at least] long-time TV friends, the Enterprise crew, soften and open and cry a bit and for all intents and purposes become healed from their deep sadness. It’s pretty compelling. [For the purposes of this analysis, Uhura's weird crush on Scottie will be disregarded, because, yeah.]

That being said, TFV is a charismatic Tony-Robbins type, full of enigmatic answers to questions with avuncular winks and smiles; rivetting as a person and obviously skilled at whatever that brain-skill is, but never quite making a whole lot of sense. His eyes are firmly on the prize, and the prize is this wild planet, and mayhem is ensuing but it’s all part of the plan. If you question him, it’s because you’re afraid. If you want something else in your life, it’s because you’re addicted, or attached to your own desire; you’re not sufficiently humble. If you don’t want to check out his crazy Telepathovision, you aren’t interested in the growth and support of all mankind. As I’m sure some of you have noticed, there are people like this living among us these days; and it is very hard to have a discussion with them.

There are only two members of the Enterprise crew that withstand the mighty spirituo-emotional whammy of TFV: Kirk and Spock. Kirk gets off the hook because he decides to cleave to his own jerkiness, and something about Ayn Rand, I don’t know; I wasn’t clear on that part, he just yells a bit and makes that Shatner face that’s like, “This Is My Standing Up For American Values and My Right to Self Determination Face, You Robe-Wearing Fruitcake”. That might resonate with you, I don’t know. Spock, on the other hand, has a nice little speech where he tells TFV that, yes, he had a deep sadness and that TFV has correctly identified it, and that it is indeed difficult to see; but that he [Spock] has grown over time, no longer that wounded child, and his place is with his friends and by his Captain’s side. He’s polite, he’s real, he’s strong, and nerdy in that Nimoyish way, and he pretty much shortcuts any of TFV’s possible objections, leaving him to smile enigmatically [if a bit foolishly] and get on with his hijacking of the Enterprise.

For many years I’ve been thinking about what we are really transforming in our yoga practice. So many other voices crowd the landscape and different narratives and goals abound: should the ego be abandoned? Transcended? Silenced? Is there any purpose to this life, or even this moment? Should our eyes be on the prize like TFV, and objections on this mortal plane be damned? I mean, hardly anybody puts it like that anymore but you don’t have to go far before you hear something about “oh, that’s just my ego” or “that’s just my fear and my addiction”. I’ve thought that before about various aspects of myself, and I have to say, it was less that fruitful. Marginalizing those parts of myself as unnecessary to or even an impediment to a spiritual life has not been a net positive. The only way I can figure this out is by expanding my concept of what a spiritual life IS: that it has the capacity to hold and support me even with all my flaws, and nothing need be discarded or dismissed [especially not with these new-age therapy tropes that we seem to enjoy so much these days: “OMG I'm totally addicted to green tea Frappucinos”]. Even as a child I suspected that those who wanted to separate God from real life, to put him in a building or in India or in robes or on a raw vegan diet or whatever, had their logic go a bit squirrelly on them somewhere along the way.

And indeed, the ol’ Enterprise crew experiences a little parable right there amongst the Styrofoam “rocks” on the mystical planet; the “God” they encounter is one of those laser-pointer aliens and after much joyful Charlton-Heston-style declamation and speeches it turns out he wants the Enterprise [!!?!] to which Kirk asks, “what the heck does God need a starship for? Aren’t you everywhere, all the time?” and there are some lightning bolts and poor TFV experiences a crisis of faith.

In yoga we often speak of the limitless love and capacity of the heart to heal us, and somewhere in there we sneak in some judgements and pejoratives, but to me this limitless love means: right now, in this life, wherever you are, whatever you are doing, no matter how unfancy it might be or how “unspiritual” you feel. Anything else is limiting the divine, and that can only lead to a laser battle with a guy in a bathrobe.

You'll spend twenny dallas on paper towels. Ahdunno, it sells itself.

I smile every time “Vince” from the “ShamWOW” ads comes on.

There, I said it.

Don’t call it a comeback. DO call it Power Yoga at 4 pm tomorrow…

Hey, I didn't say it, Mama did.

Common, “Intro [Finding Forever]”

Lyrics Born, “Callin’ Out”

Talib Kweli, “We Know”

Atmosphere, “Yesterday”

LL Cool J, “Mama Said Knock You Out”

Big Boi, “The Way You Move”

Common feat. will.i.am, “I Want You”

Pete Rock & CL Smooth, “T.R.O.Y. [They Reminisce Over You]”

Little Brother, “So Fabulous”

People Under the Stairs, “Montego Bay”

Al Green, “Just For Me”

Nujabes, “Reflection Eternal”

Mikah Nine, “Come Up Off Of My Love”

Remy Shand, “Everlasting”

Lauryn Hill, “Nothing Even Matters”

Jamie Lidell, “Rope of Sand”

Stevie Wonder, “If It’s Magic”

After some minor self-flagellation at not having accomplished all of my New Years’ intentions/resolutions/goal-setting visualization exercises/manifestation projects or whatever the heck you want to call them within the first week of 2009, I have since calmed down and am enjoying the tide of returning vacationers – and returning YOGIS – coming home to the fold.  Nice full, sweaty classes with bright shiny eyes and smiles; what could be better?

We all enjoy this rising tide of energy as we collect ourselves and refocus.  After a brief but varied survey of students and friends

Now, doesn't that look cool? Totally.

about how best to handle this transition, the consensus is:  Get Out Of The House.  As tempting as the stale Superstore shortbreads may be, as vile as the latest traditionally Vancouverian downpour may appear, go for a walk, go to yoga, go the gym, go volunteer, DO SOMETHING and ride the wave.  You’ll feel better.

In fact, I have a suggestion of SOMETHING you can DO:  My good friend Leanne [in the pic, also on the blogroll] has an arm-balancing workshop coming up on Sunday January 25 from 1:00 – 4:00.  The raddest parts about Leanne are that she knows a boatload about yoga, and will teach you, AND she’ll be 100% real with you the whole time, so if you’d like to finesse your arm balances or just get started, even:  check it out.  2009 could be Year of the Arm Balance!  For details, see Live Yoga.