Buying Buddha

This week I purchased my first Buddha statue, nothing to serious just a small one for my desk.  While out running some errands,  I came across just the right figure with a tea candle holder in his lap.    He now reposes in full lotus gently overseeing my work.  This  leads me to reflect on a yoga client's question from just other day.  Somewhere between standing tree and dancer poses, she looked at me and asked, "So...do you consider yourself a Buddhist?" I remained ambiguous when answering, never really saying yes or no.  I do that often when directly asked such things; better to be allusive rather than declare something untrue.

Interesting question!  Buddhist?  Me? I did just buy a Buddha.

Looking over to my book shelf just across from my desk I might be tempted to say yes.  Titles referencing Buddhism and Zen in their titles line the shelves.  I read them and consider many of them in my top ten favorite reads.

But...honestly...if being a Buddhist means acknowledging a formal religious path with memberships and masters then the answer would be a solid no.  Nevertheless, I recognize the middle way of Buddha as I understand it, that narrow razor's edge somewhere between answers and questions, the one that seeks to remain always here and now.  This path inspires me to stay clear from so called absolute answers that bind and constrain as well as from the utter despair of total meaningless.

So does this make me Buddhist? Probably not.  I am content to look at my bought Buddha on the corner of the desk. This little statue in all it's simplicity challenges me to wake up and remain in the present with soft eyes, flexibility and uprightness.

Namaste!

Meditation

Meditation has interested me since my early twenties.  I went to all sorts of workshops, lectures and spent a small fortune buying books on the subject.  After all this, it still took years and years to finally develop something like a regular practice.  Along the way, I dabbled with many forms and philosophies of meditation.  But...there is one style that continuously draws me back, the simple form of sitting.   It is called many names in a variety of traditions, centering, contemplation, dhyana, theoria, the list goes on depending who refers to it.

I prefer calling it Ponding.

What is it exactly?  It is so simple in its form that it becomes complicated for many because of that very fact.  It is really the act of sitting and observing.  I sit with an upright back free of rigidity yet without something external supporting my spine.  Then, I just remain there for a set amount of time with eyes open and soft without any particular  focus or vision in my mind. The goal is to remain there without doing, observing what comes and goes without judgement or attachment.  Wild thoughts may come, things to do appear suddenly, disturbances in the mind's eye dance within the head, sweet thoughts of good things slip before me, still I just sit and see what happens allowing all these fancies to come and go.

Why is it called Ponding?

It is like watching a shallow clear pond like one might find in the mountains.  Ripples appear from the wind, occasional stirrings of some unseen creature disturb some pocket of dirt, reflections of sky and sun appear on its surface.  These are all interesting, can be annoying and/or beautiful, but there comes a moment when it all passes and one can see the whole clear body of water penetrating all the way to its bottom, for a moment seeing all its radiance in just being what it is. Then, winds arises, dust reappears and reflections dance again upon the surface.  One must sit again, waiting for another moment of clarity with each such experience being ever so different for no formula or expected outcome exists in this method.

For me, this is the way of meditation and of life.  Watching and waiting, seeing the moments of clarity and then losing sight only to have all this repeat itself.  But, this sitting like this gazing into the pond of one's own life  helps one to see things in their true form even if only for a moment.   These are the moments of absolute clarity and worth the wait.

Enjoy your pond today and just sit along its shore for a time.

Namaste!

Discovering the Home Practice

When first starting my yoga practice, I would hear about the mysterious home practice from my teachers.  My mind would slip away to images of my instructors standing in some pristine bamboo room or poised on a sun rising bluff in a graceful expansive pose.  This went on for some time, actually for years while I came in and out of yoga; my imagination always running wild with the thought of a personal practice outside the classroom setting and what that might look like in context.
Then, after a time, I found a consistency in my yoga story and begin to approach the idea with a little more grounding.

Finally, I asked my patient teachers,  "Ok, so what's the deal with this home practice thing?"

The answers were legion and varied depending on who I asked.  The one consistent element was that they all had personal practice.  A few listened to pod casts, some watched videos, others has particular poses and sequences that they came to every day in an evolving pattern.  I was amazed!  For me, yoga was the classroom setting with the teacher leading me through the asanas.  This was challenging in itself, not only the actual class but making the commitment to attend on a regular basis.  How could one actually commit every day and do it on there own?  Awe!

All things in good time.

Shortly after this inquiry, I moved across the continent and landed in Alaska far away from my familiar studio.  Before my girlfriend came to join me in a couple of months, I would find a temporary place to  stay while getting us set up in Anchorage.  Alone in a unfurnished rented room with only a duffle bag, bedroll and my yoga mat, it seemed like the right time to start this home practice thing. This was further confirmed by the fact that almost one whole wall of the room was a closet with mirrored sliding doors.  It was like living in my own small yoga studio.

So it began, while looking for a permanent place to live as well as checking out the local studios, I would try to piece together  a home practice.  At first, I would poorly perform parts of my former teachers' flows in the morning or before bed.    This was furthered by the regular class attendance developing in Anchorage at a local studio.  It was still tricky and hardly satisfying even with the new class exposure.  Honestly, I just didn't know what I was doing, I stumbled forward without grace and probably without the best form.  But, the important thing is that I had started!

The more I reflect on this experience the more I am convinced that an earnest intent followed by action is the beginning of a home practice.  The initial confusion and lack of confidence is only what we think to be the limit of our abilities.  My teachers (past and present) continuously  declare that the edge of our practice is only an illusion that will extend out beyond us if we walk towards it.  Starting the home practice is the edge of our inner journey of yoga and when we make that decision to walk to its boundary a whole new personal universe opens up   Our poses don't need to be correct or beautiful as we move forward just that we keep breathing and keep practicing.

Maybe you are starting a home practice? Don't worry about whether its right or wrong just keep moving and it will come. If I can develop one, you can for sure.

Namaste!

My Teachers: Credit Where Credit Is Due

Funny how the same subject comes up in a variety of ways when the right time arises!

Recently, students and other instructors have asked me who teaches and trains me or whose classes I visit when practicing.  It is time to give credit where credit is due.

I have had a lot of teachers over the years.  Honestly, I had a relatively random practice early in my yoga story visiting different classes with anything but consistency.  A serious teacher was far from my mind.  After repeatedly hurting my shoulder, I made the decision to go deeper into my limited yoga practice.

As the proverb declares, the teacher comes when the student is ready.

Teachers emerged, amazing yogis who welcomed me into their classes.  I am grateful to all of them, but there are certain ones whose classes and styles I connected to on a deep heart level.  Why we are drawn to whom we are drawn to as a teacher is one of those mysteries.  Among all these individuals I truly connected with the style.  I owe them a great debt and want to acknowledge them.

First, there is Heather Healey the owner of Mighty Yoga who accepted me as a work study. She gave me a glimpse into some of the practical ins and out of a studio and  helped me feel like I belonged in the greater yoga community.

Enter Jamie Silverstein! She taught several classes at Mighty Yoga  before going on to open her own Seattle studio, The Grinning Yogi.  Jamie's voice even now resonates in my mind during my own classes.  Her constant class advice to go beyond the edge and to spin the kaleidoscope of one's view of life helped me walk past my own limitations and dare to go further in my own journey.

Next comes Anchorage.  Leaving Mighty Yoga was hard.  I loved that studio, but life brings change. This truth is inevitable.  I searched the web and settled on Anchorage Yoga as a studio that had the style closest to what my practice knew and needed.  Ultimately, I would even go on and complete its teacher training program.  Since coming here, this is where I take classes.  But...most of all, I go there because of the owner Katey Inman.   I attend her classes regularly, continue to learn from her and think of her as my primary teacher.  Actually, if wasn't for her training, I probably wouldn't be an instructor.

Thank you dear teachers, those mentioned and all the others!  My heart abounds with gratitude.

Who are your teachers?  Who has furthered your practice and helped you discover your yoga story. Maybe, its time to give the credit where the credit is due.

Namaste!

Private Yoga Lessons?

No hustle, no claim for any miracle in just days, none of that!

I never believe those kind of things.  Why should you?

Still having written that, I do offer private yoga lessons and would love to work together.  If you practice yoga or want to start on that path, private sessions are a great way to feel special and get the personalized attention you deserve. I will help and work with you to reach your yoga or general well being intentions.

Yes, it costs money but you are worth it.  Also, if I do say so myself, I am worth every dollar and will make sure you get the full benefit.  Remember the maxim, "You get what you pay for?"    I am not cheap but reasonable and in the end money well spent.

$75 one hour session

Or, maybe you would like to set a specific goal and works towards that.  In that case, I have a couple of packages.

$70 five one hour sessions
$65 ten one hour sessions

Interested in more?  I can set up all sorts of special packages to fit your needs.

Send me an email and let's start the conversation.

Favorite Yoga?

Recently, I made a reference to particular style of yoga while teaching a morning class in an attempt to offer a variation to a familiar pose.  After the class shifted from that pose into downward dog, one of the students remarked, "What kind of yoga is your favorite?" This question took me off guard.  Needless to say,I didn't really answer the question, instead gave some unsatisfying noncommittal answer then moved onward with the flow.

This was several days ago, and the question still lingers in my mind. It is always interesting how the  inquiries of my students move me deeper into my own practice.  I love this side of teaching.

So, what is the answer? My favorite yoga?  Why is that such a hard question to answer?

Although a registered yoga teacher, I am hardly an expert on all the different schools of asana and their different beliefs and nuances. I have visited all sorts of classes, Bikrim, Iyengar, Kundalini, Forrest and the list goes on.  All of these had something beautiful to offer, and I always walked away a richer person. Overall, I am glad to have had the exposure. But, one thing has come clear.  No school of yoga that maintains an exact method or formula fits my personal path.  Personally, I find that my favorite forms of yoga are those that incorporate and combine aspects of different schools into a wonderful kaleidoscope of practice.

That is probably part of the reason  for choosing Anchorage Yoga when deciding where and with whom to study for my teacher training.  It offered different types of yoga along with its own hybrid signature style and had a diverse group of teachers with a variety of backgrounds on staff. This granted me the framework and freedom to discover my own yoga.

All this aside, I still haven't answered the question.  What is my favorite kind of yoga?

If I am honest I must declare, "My own!"  Yes, my favorite is the one I discovered within that has been cultivated and nourished by so many wonderful teachers.

Namaste!

Interested in some fantasy?

It helps to be a person with many interests.  Yes, I teach yoga but also enjoy other things too.  For me, writing fantasy tales has always served as a nice release from the day to day affairs.  As you may or may not know last year I wrote a novella of sorts and created a FB page to host it.  The story continues and another short story has started from that same fantasy world.  I call this one Why We Fear Wolves. Maybe, you will like it. Click here to check it out and read the brief first part.