10,000 Vinyasas

Well, I’m continuing to make more progress in acro-yoga. My handstands have a lot more control, and my drop-overs are getting better. I’m almost ready to do kickovers by myself; I only need a tiny push to get airborne, most of the time. On the other hand, I’m having some knee pain, and I suspect that it has to do with my lack of cardio activity; a muscle imbalance my have formed, is what it feels like. At any rate, I have a month of Kundalini classes at a local studio, and so I think I will take this opportunity to get more experience with this style of yoga.

With teacher training. It’s been a long slog, and I’ll be glad when it’s over. I’ve learned some things, and have gotten more exposure to the Yoga Sutras, chanting, meditation, and other practices. It certainly has taken up a lot of time, and I’m sure I’ll breathe a sigh of relief when I have more space to do stuff (like rebuilding a used espresso machine, to be discussed in an upcoming post). Anyway, I’m not sure this particular version was exactly what I was expecting, in the sense that I was thinking there would be more Ashtanga-specific teaching. At any rate, I’ve picked up a new private lesson this week, and a potential opportunity to teach a class, outside of a formal studio. My practice is going well; my knees are still sore but sometimes allow Padmasana and other poses.

(Update) Ok, we are done (well, not quite–still have to teach three “community classes,” my exam is not graded yet, and there was a mysterious hint about a possible “additional assignment” for some), but at least most of it is over. Will be nice to concentrate on other things. In addition, it may be a while before I take another workshop; I think I’ve done enough for now and want to concentrate more on my practice.

I’m giving props to Shelley by billing her equally with her husband, since she was such an integral part of the instruction (and, I liked her very much). David Swenson is perhaps the last of the traditional Ashtanga Yoga people that I’ve been taking workshops from over the past year (readers will recall David Williams, Doug Swenson, Nancy Gilgoff, and Tim Miller), so I was eager to hear his perspective. The first session was a led primary class; I got a lot out of David’s suggestions for modifications to some of the poses. In the afternoon session, it was nice to get, yet again, another perspective on lifting up and jumping back. I guess I would say that David Swenson is pretty close to Nancy Gilgoff in his traditional style, although he has a sense of humor very similar to his brother, Doug. Doug, of course, is kind of a maverick in the traditional Ashtanga area, and incorporated some tai-chi movements into some of the transitions between poses. David does not actually have a studio in Austin where he and Shelley live; apparently, he just travels and teaches, along with the sales from his books and videos. Nice way to make a living from yoga, in my opinion. The second day’s opening session was an introduction to Second Series, and of course, I’m familiar with this, having practiced many of the poses in some of Yoga Shala’s classes. I’m only able to do about 50% of Second, but it’s still fun to try. We did a lot of work with partners in this session, and overall, it was a very nice experience. (I had to skip the pranayama session at the end, since I had to go teach). I probably should purchase at least one of his books, since it seems very helpful in teaching modifications to difficult poses.

I’ve progressed to the point in my drop-backs (into backbend) that Vladimir now refuses to “assist” me anymore…yay! I’ve never actually gotten to that point in anything I’ve attempted in acro-yoga, so it feels nice to master a skill like this, even though I do recognize that I could do a lot more to improve my form, and I will, of course. It seems to me an amazing accomplishment, since I had so little ability when I started, and it took a loooooong time. I’m learning, though, that some of the more advanced poses and sequences in yoga may take quite some time to master, and this process is just normal. I’m really trying to move away from being so result-oriented in this activity, and I think I get more serenity that way. It’s difiicult not to envy someone who can easily do what you struggle to accomplish, but remembering that no one’s practice is perfect, and that even your teachers struggle with poses, gives one more serenity. A report on the David Swenson workshop is upcoming…

“Pain is not a punishment. Pleasure is not a reward.”–Chodron, Buddhist nun.

My assignment for teacher training is to expound on the meaning of these aphorisms. First, we observe that many benefits come from pain, especially in the physical activity realm. I’m thinking specifically about when I broke my ankle; it was upsetting to not be able to do cardio for six weeks, but I addressed my upper body and core in that time and emerged from injury much stronger. Also, progress in yoga practice is only gained through effort (which might be called pain); certainly poses which come easily to one do not present a challenge, or an opportunity to deepen one’s physical practice. The observation that a perfect pose or sequence is the product of years of dedication and hard work certainly applies here too. Pain can also be a valuable warning in practicing asanas, sounding an alarm that the body is unready for the chosen pose. Conversely, indulging in pleasure often comes with an additional, sometimes unintended amount of pain. Giving in to one’s appetites for sweets or other culinary temptations produces a momentary feeling of pleasure, but later, this fades and is replaced with dissatisfaction with the additional weight gain. Drinking alcohol in excess is an even more obvious example. The natural human tendency is to seek pleasure and avoid pain, but as we can see, this strategy is shortsighted and fails to take into account the true nature of these two opposites. As yogis, we are called upon to recognize the deceptive appearance of pain and pleasure and rise above our natural inclinations. Ultimately, we should look at these two equally, with indifference to their effects, and treat them both the same.

1. you wear nothing but Lululemon, not just to yoga practice, but everywhere.
2. you practice counting in Sanskrit under your breath at odd moments during the day.
3. the words “pincha mayurasana” no longer strike fear into your heart.
4. the only thing you care about is getting to that next yoga class.
5. conversely, your home practice is just as satisfying as your studio practice.
6. bending over to pick up something is an exercise in pleasure.
7. you can wear through a travel mat in about 2 months.
8. you sit in Virasana while watching tv at home.
9. watching tv seems kind of meaningless compared to yoga practice.
10. you harangue your significant other into taking yoga classes.
11. you find yourself using ujjayi breathing throughout your day.
12. and it makes you calmer.
13. you mostly hang out with other yogis; other people “just don’t get it.”
14. you can turn on a light switch with your foot, while loaded down with bags of groceries (thanks, Becky!)
15. you can’t understand why people think jumping into seated is hard.
16. you think the opening and closing mantras are “cool.”
17. you’d rather sit on the floor than in a chair, to open your hips, of course.
18. practicing Primary Series seems more relaxing than strenuous.

Readers, any more?

I took the workshop this weekend.

The first substantive portion (after the led primary, which I had to skip) was the building strength and lifting up module. Kino Macgregor has studied directly with Pahttabhi Jois, which was entertaining, since she shared some stories about Guruji. Kino has an interesting diction, which reminded me of the skateboarder/surfer Jay Adams, and made me wonder if she originated in California. She spent some time talking about the common personal excuses that we utilize in avoiding difficult poses in our yoga practice, i.e., “my arms are too short, my butt’s too big, I started too late,” to be able to jump forward and back. This is a favorite topic of mine. At any rate, she most effectively broke down the jumping forward and back process, differing slightly from Mike Matthews’ approach, who encouraged us to jump into a preliminary position with the tops of your feet to the floor, before scooting the feet forward of the hands (Kino referred to it as walking the feet forward), whereas Mike told us to pulse the hips, bringing the feet forward until they came past the hands and “kick the feet out.” In contrast, Kino spent quite some time teaching us what she called “building the foundation,” which meant placing the hands with fingers slightly digging into the mat, bringing the “ball” of the index finger deeply into the mat, rotating the eyes of the elbows in to a 45 degree angle, and emphasizing the strength of the deltoid muscles, along with bringing the spine into flexion and drawing the lower belly in. We went from all fours into plank with these cues. From there, she encouraged us to bring one foot forward, placing the top of the foot near the hands, and then the other, and walking the feet forward, straightening the legs, and then lowering the hips. I can mostly do this without instruction, so this part of the workshop was not enlightening for me, although I did enjoy the different perspective, and the emphasis on uddiyana and mula bandhas in attaining this difficult skill. Separating out all the parts seems to be Kino’s special talent in Ashtanga yoga. The part for me that needed clarification (and Kino gave it to us) in this workshop was the action of bending your arms and bringing your chest forward and down before jumping back. I attained several almost perfect jumpbacks using all of Kino’s cues, and of course, doing it once means you can, eventually, do it again, and then over and over with practice. Speaking of which, Kino mentioned that it takes about 10,000 repetitions of movements to enable familiarity within the body, so once again, we have to practice over and over. Kino also said some things that I’ve been noticing, and have previously posted here, specifically about the long horizon in yoga, the fact that beautiful-looking poses should be looked at as expressions of the amount of work and dedication involved, and that injuries result from students trying to push themselves into poses their bodies are not yet ready for. That was kind of cool, to hear someone that accomplished say what I’ve thought for awhile.

The second day was Mysore, followed by a module on backbending. I loved the Mysore in that hot, crowded, sweaty room, but I must’ve done a little too much, since I injured my left hamstring pretty severely (it’s frustrating that I can never pinpoint when I actually injure myself, apparently; it just happens, and the effects show up later). The backbending was interesting. Since I’ve been practicing with a former gymnast, Vladimir Vladev, I have gotten his instruction on backbending, and it’s slightly different than a yoga-style backbend instruction, but I’m always eager to get a different perspective, and maybe even blend some things if possible. I really liked Kino’s approach to this area, beginning again with building a foundation with tucking the tailbone and drawing the lower belly in, and lifting the stomach, ribs and chest up, creating space in the spine, and then bending the upper back. I can see that my chronic lower back pain has to do with not tucking the tailbone, and this I certainly can use in my practice. All in all, an excellent workshop, taught by an extremely accomplished and charismatic teacher. I can only imagine what my practice would look like with regular lessons from this yogini.

Continuing on last week’s theme of opening, I observe that much of the pain that beginners feel (and let’s not kid ourselves, as much as we try to make yoga a pain-free experience, it just isn’t, not by any stretch of the imagination) has to do, in my opinion, with the feelings of opening parts of bodies who’ve spent years behind a desk, or doing some monotonic exercise (running, weights, and don’t even mention golf!), or some other sedentary aspect of what passes for life here in industrial civilization. People spend years and years cultivating stiffness, rigidity, lack of inner strength and flexibility, and then come into a yoga class. The movements being taught there are designed to open the body and increase strength and flexibility and so of course the sudden opening of previously closed parts is painful, often excruciating. This may, in fact, be the reason that many people’s first visit to a yoga class is their last. This also suggests that there are more than one level of opening; in fact, there are multiple layers of openness, and this is echoed in the seemingly endless progression of ever-increasing levels of difficulty. I can also see from this that a lot of injuries can occur when people don’t understand this principle, and attempt to force their bodies into poses that their level of flexibility doesn’t yet allow, and realizing this brings up Pattabhi Jois’ admonition, to much clearer effect: “do your practice, and all is coming.” Of course, Guruji was Indian and his pithy aphorism must be explained to literal Americans, I suppose, but that’s my shot at an exposition.

Note: teacher training starts Monday. Should be fun and exciting. I’m looking forward to it.

I wanted to relate an experience I had last weekend, and connect it to yoga practice. If you’ve attended my Tuesday night class, you heard this already, but here goes. Last Saturday night we got together with some of my old running buddies; I used to run 10 miles on Saturday mornings with these guys, and sometimes a few more during the week. By the way, I always thought of myself as a lifetime runner; just couldn’t imagine my life without it. Funny how things change. Anyway, of course my new avocation (hah!) and passion got some interesting comments from these quite conventional fellas. They were all excited about running the half or full marathon that was being held this weekend, and were obviously puzzled that I wasn’t participating, and that I had, in the last five years since we got together, changed into something else. One guy had apparently attended a yoga class in Oklahoma where he lives and described it as being a lot of chanting and meditation. His view of yoga was “stretching,” and he demonstrated his lack of flexibility by trying to touch his toes and not getting very far, to put it charitably. This particular gentleman, I know, does weight work in addition to running, and so I had to wonder, just exactly how useful this exercise routine is, if it results in someone being incredibly rigid and inflexible? I can only contrast my own experience, since I was once in roughly the same position as my friend, and what I find is that yoga comes closest, of all the ways of moving your body, to being the complete exercise program, especially if your goal is to be able to undertake normal activities well into your advancing age. Running and weight lifting, while good, simply don’t offer that kind of completeness. My friend and wonderful yoga teacher Meg once described an early morning event in her kitchen when she reached deep into a cabinet and how good that bending over felt, and this post is my echo of that. It’s taken me quite some time to achieve real flexibility in my chest, shoulders, and hips, but oh how good it feels to have this, and to be able to use it in every day activity. It’s almost indescribable, this feeling of openness and freedom, but certainly achievable by most people, and this, I think, is really the unstated value of yoga: we all aspire to be able to continue our normal activities as we age, and yoga gives us a way to do that. People who find themselves addicted to yoga probably experience similar feelings to mine. When you think about it, it’s pretty understandable; yoga is ancient, five thousand years old or so, and you’d expect there to be some wisdom coming down from all that experience.

Recently, I’ve begun to notice how important the placement of the back foot is in many standing yoga poses. In poses like Virabhadrasana A, for instance, angling the back foot at the proper angle will allow rotation of the hips without twisting the back leg; letting the foot angle out too far will prevent squaring that hip towards the front of the mat, while rotating the foot too far inward contributes to loss of stability, because you can’t “plant” the back foot very well. This same dynamic is echoed in Parsvottanasana, as well as Parivrrta Trikonasana. I find that many beginners neglect this crucial aspect of alignment, which is why their poses look like, well, beginners’, but the good news is it’s easy to correct. In other news, we are taking a slight break from Acro, due to circumstances beyond our control (hey, aren’t they all? isn’t control just an illusion?), but this is ok since it gives us a chance to rest the shoulder, which occasionally suffers from overuse. A good week of yoga practice is what we’re looking for this week.

My drop-backs and stand-ups into backbend are becoming more and more consistent, to the point that Vladimir remarked the other day that I really didn’t need him to assist me anymore…yay! I’m still not as confident as I’d like to be, but the intensive practice has really made a difference. My splits are all the way to the floor, at least on my right side, and some days, on my left. How this could happen is quite beyond me, but there you go. I’m loving my yoga practice a whole lot these days. In addition, I’ve really gotten the hang of jumping forwards and back (it’s called lifting the hips up high in the air as you jump forward), and I’m working on smoothing that out as much as I can. Pursuing this further, I’m trying to bring grace and deliberateness to my practice, especially Suryanamascar. Tomorrow I’ll be practicing at San Antonio Yoga with Lisa Long, someone I’ve wanted to take more classes from, but her schedule is not conducive. Anyway, that’s all the news that’s fit to print.

(Update) Had a most enjoyable Primary Series practice with Lisa on Saturday. I suppose the temperature had something to do with it; it was warm enough to sweat, but not hot enough to cause me to start paying too much attention to it. My stress level decreases drastically when I have a more optimum temperature, something I do believe I’ve remarked about before. Oh, yes, and Lisa was wonderful…

more depth to my teaching. I’ve noticed since I took over the Saturday vinyasa class as Yoga Shala that I’ve been compelled to stretch my boundaries, including more poses and sequences which I then bring to my other classes. It feels good to expand my repertoire, and gives me more “layers” in teaching yoga. Still, in the back of my head, there’s this little voice that says, “what are you doing? how did you all of a sudden become a yoga teacher? what’s this yoga thing anyway?” I kind of laugh…because it’s so strange when I dwell on it, but there it is. I’ve recently become more aware that yoga is one of the things in my life that makes me happy, and teaching is a big part of that. Sadly, one can’t make a living teaching yoga (well, unless you’re extremely prominent, I suppose), and that’s ok, except you have to occasionally make concessions to the practical realities of life, which involves doing work for money. Being debt-free helps, though, and trying to moderate one’s desires also. It’s worth asking: what in your life makes you really happy? Figure it out, and do more of it.

between gym yoga and yoga taught at a yoga studio:

1. the rooms at the gym tend to be cold, and because they are multipurpose, they tend to have features that are not ideal for yoga, i.e., mirrors instead of walls for head and handstands, located next to really loud cardio rooms, and no facilities for mat bags and other personal items. So, gym yoga has more of a chance of injuries incurred by not being warm enough, the savasana period is likely to be interrupted by loud noise, and head and handstand practice is limited, even if the gym allows it (many discourage the practice for liability issues).

2. it’s basically hit or miss when it comes to instructors. Although I’d never be one to question the good intentions of someone who chooses to teach yoga, it’s clear that there is a statistically significant segment of instructors who teach fitness classes generally, and have taken a weekend or two of yoga teacher training (yes, YogaFit), which they then “teach” yoga. It’s been my experience that these people are not giving their students a comprehensive yoga experience, with a bias towards simply modeling the poses, and a distinct lack of adjustments, walking around the room observing, and generally providing individual help. There is no doubt that there are some extremely competent and professional yoga instructors teaching at gyms, but it’s necessary for serious yoga students to seek them out, because gyms are typically not forthcoming on their instructors’ qualifications and abilities.

That’s all that’s occurring to me at the moment…I’d like to hear from others what they think the differences are, or if there are any.

Having been teaching for awhile now, I’ve had the opportunity to observe many students practicing yoga, and frankly, some of the things people pick up as part of their yoga practice have become slightly irritating. Here’s an example: how many people insist on putting their feet together in downward dog, no matter how many times I repeat, “feet are hip width apart”? Where in the world does this come from? For goodness sakes, I’ve even seen yoga teachers do it. I can think of no justification for this practice, at all; in fact, it seems like it would be less solid and stable, and yet, at least a third of the people in my classes continue to do this . Here’s another one: this “swan dive” into forward bend. Here, at least, I understand that this practice originates with Yoga Fit, and their justification of it is that it’s “safer.” I do have news for Beth, though; according to Nancy Gilgoff, who I assume knows just a little bit more than Beth about yoga practice, bringing the arms out will eventually lead to shoulder issues; hence, she advocates simply raising the arms to start, and bringing them directly down to the floor to forward bend. Look, I’m all about bringing more grace to my practice, but it seems to me, at least in my current thinking, that using the least amount of effort and movement to get into the pose leaves plenty of room for a “moving meditation.” A big part of the problem, I think, is that many students are exposed to many different styles of yoga without anyone taking the time to explain why something is done differently, and here we come back to the value of Nancy Gilgoff’s workshop, in which she took pains to differentiate Ashtanga alignment and practice from Iyengar. I really appreciated that. Anyway, try eliminating some of the flourishes in your yoga practice, and see what happens.

Well, I’ve been teaching the vinyasa class now for three weeks. One of my Spectrum regulars followed me over, purchased a package, and signed up for an upcoming workshop at the studio. It’s difficult to convey the feeling I have when I contemplate this…the fact that I could have such an effect on people just by leading them through a yoga class. Also, last week’s class featured the attendance of one of the yoga teachers I greatly admire, and one whose class I regularly attend. What an honor! At any rate, I am still not completely comfortable with an improvisational vinyasa class, but I’m trying, and I do recognize that the uncomfortable feeling I’m having is me trying attempting something new. I’ve been incredibly busy in my “other” job the past week, so I’ve really tried to practice every morning, at least for a little while. I do believe my teaching schedule is as full as I’d like it to be right now; I have four classes a week, and usually one private lesson. Well, I did say that I wanted to teach yoga, right? My shoulder has pretty much ceased to trouble me, since my strenuous yoga practice has been diminished the last couple of weeks. Feeling at a point of maximum strength and flexibility, which usually in my experience precedes another injury. Should be careful. Another lesson learned or emphasized the last couple of weeks: yoga is even more important in stressful times, vital even. I feel a stillness and serenity in my yoga practice that, although it started awhile ago, has been growing, and makes me more eager to get to the mat.

I’ve always wondered why yoga workshops are called that, instead of “seminars.” Seminar seems to have a more intellectual connotation, while “workshop” seems more, I dunno, practical or something. Anyhow, here are some pictures of me at the event…it was a good one.

Here we all are, together.

Here's Nancy!

Adjustments...I used to hate this pose, and I'm still struggling for stability in it, but it's come a long way.

Navasana...showing my best side...repeated demonstrating this pose in class has increased my ability to hold it.

“Yoga makes the impossible possible…”

What does this mean?

Posters, the floor is yours…

I want to explore what I think is one of the major areas of opposition in practicing yoga: the contrast between the “first, do no harm” perspective, as exemplified by gentle/restorative/YogaFit, and the “more challenge” point of view, as propagated by such systems of thought as Ashtanga yoga and the cover and pictorial content of magazines like Yoga Journal. It seems to me that these contrasting perspectives are in conflict, or at least there’s a tension between them. I think of listening to David Williams, having done Ashtanga yoga for 40 years, expounding on his strongly held beliefs that yoga should never hurt, that injuries are worse than counterproductive, and yoga is ultimately a means to an end: meditation, while at the same time being surrounded at that particular studio by photos of extreme achievements in yoga performed by persons with, shall we say, attractive physical development. Similarly, although it devotes print space to meditation, finding inner peace, and restorative yoga poses, the underlying message of the pictorial representations in Yoga Journal might lead one to conclude that achieving these ultimate expressions is in fact, the goal of practicing yoga. As a further example, one of the posters here recently took issue with the strict Mysore practice of stopping a student when a pose could not be fully attained and sending them directly to the closing sequence, pointing out that it seemed to make the attainment of asanas the end result of practicing.

Well, I’m sure that no serious Ashtanga practitioner would concede that attaining particular asanas or sequences are the goals of the practice, and theoretically, I’m sure that’s true. It’s just that there does seem to be an effect, even if unintended, that results in students desiring to be able to attain “flashy” poses that look good (presumably for a camera), without realizing that those poses are simply expressions of the amount of work and practice undertaken, sometimes over long periods of time. It’s perfectly natural to feel positive about one’s “progress” in yoga, especially if that is expressed by ability to practice difficult asanas or sequences with more ease, but we should realize that indulging these feelings detracts from attaining the more ephemeral benefits of yoga: a calmer mind, more positive energy, greater facility in the rest of our lives, peace and serenity. Pictorial representations ought to be looked at as inspirational only; as an example of how the pose could look, nothing more. Teachers and practitioners of aggressive, athletic systems of yoga like Ashtanga should continually remind themselves and their students of the non-attachment to achieving poses.

Closely related to this, I think, is the lack of understanding among beginning students as to how wide the horizon is in yoga; in other words, some poses are so difficult or require so much opening of the body that one’s progress can only be measured, if at all, in millimeters, and over months or even years. This should not be discouraging; on the contrary, it is exactly the reason that yoga is a lifelong practice: one is never finished.

On the other hand, rarely venturing outside one’s comfort zone (which is as inaccurate in describing the gentle perspective as characterizing Ashtanga as achievement-oriented is, but still, there’s some truth in it) unduly limits one’s potential to challenge our bodies and minds, to go deeper into poses, and to find hidden abilities to attain poses previously thought impossible. In other words, if you never practice it, you’ll never do it. Worse, you may put more faith in the misleading thoughts that run through your head; you know, the ones that say you will never be able to practice this pose. In particular, yoga skill is not particularly dependent on age, even though some younger, more flexible people can more easily do some poses, many older people find themselves attaining higher levels of asanas than they ever thought possible, while others who are handcuffed by their thoughts of ageism, unnecessarily limit themselves.

With all of the above, I’m prepared to offer some conclusions:

1. Yoga is all about balance; therefore, there should be some balance between extreme physical asanas and gentle, restorative types of yoga.

2. Injuries, although they may teach us about ourselves and help us develop more empathy for other practitioners’ physical infirmities, by and large are counterproductive to yoga practice and ought to be avoided when possible. One of the ways to avoid injury is to be especially mindful of the messages the body sends to the mind. Extreme physical exertions ought to be followed by rest (see balance, above).

3. It would behoove the editors of certain publications to use less glamorous models in their visual depictions.

4. There is value is challenging one’s progress in yoga; in particular, yoga practice is an active, evolving thing, as one’s abilities change (whether through age or skill). Being satisfied and content with one’s practice is not the same as becoming complacent or static.

5. It is valuable and inspirational to view live representations of difficult poses, through one’s teacher or other practitioners. In particular, safe ways of getting into difficult poses should be pursued.

6. Since yoga is (or ought to be) a lifetime practice, a longer term view is useful when encountering poses that pose particular challenges and resist mastery. If it takes months or years, so be it.

7. Since yoga is an individual practice, every one has the responsibility of discovering ones’ strengths, weaknesses and issues, and what to do about them. Teachers can provide much guidance, but ultimately, no one knows your body and mind the way you do.

A clarification: it was not my intent in this post to take to task Ashtanga yoga, a system of asanas and ways of thought that I greatly admire. My concern here is that the rather extreme athleticism that practicing Ashtanga entails can frequently lead to injuries, and indeed, Ashtanga has an unfortunate reputation of causing physical damage, when applied in the wrong circumstances. What I mean by wrong circumstances are misunderstandings by students and teachers as to the proper attitude concerning the asanas. Because of its physically demanding nature, Ashtanga is acutely vulnerable to such misconceptions, especially among newer practitioners. The style is also particularly prone to overly aggressive teachers, who push students into poses they aren’t ready for, or adjust too roughly. Here, I do have some experience, both with injuries (knee, shoulder) and contact with overly aggressive adjustments, so I suppose I’m offering up this post as a sort of cautionary tale.

I’ve arrived! Something that I’ve thought about for a long time, but never really aimed for, has come to me: I’ve been asked to teach the Saturday morning vinyasa class at Yoga Shala, starting in August. This is especially meaningful for me because I used to attend this class religiously when my teacher Ken led it, not to mention that I believe, with quite a bit of justification, that Yoga Shala is the premier yoga studio in San Antonio. Quite an honor. Everyone has been so nice and supportive, and although it will be a challenge, it’s something that will both fit my schedule and give me an extra dimension to my teaching. Thank you, Ana, for giving me this chance! In other news, I will be teaching yoga at Lululemon on Saturday, July 17, as part of their “Spectrum Rogers Ranch” month. I’ve always wondered what that would be like, so I guess now I’ll find out.

This causes me to reflect, again, on how I got here. It’s interesting to me that my approach to yoga (well, this implies some intention that perhaps I didn’t have) was just to do more and more, and be open to expanding my knowledge by taking whatever workshops and classes I was attracted to (and there were many). I really didn’t think much about “goals” or direction of any kind; I just did whatever I could to enhance my yoga practice. I’m still amazed at the places yoga has taken me: teaching yoga on tv, teaching yoga in general, acro-yoga, Lululemon, and everything else that has happened. It’s so different from the rest of my life (yes, I know I’ve said that before, but still); everything planned out and set in concrete. I suppose that’s what a second career should be: fun and without all the ambition and purpose (and anxiety) that drives you at the beginning of your first career. I have no idea where else yoga is going to take me, and that’s part of the mystery and fun of the practice.