Heart Full

Ipanema Beach, Rio de Janiero – June 2008

It would be tough to imagine anything more beautiful than the beach landscape of Rio. Until I saw her people. My cellulite screamed in agony. For several caipirinha induced hours I believed that this place inspired Eden. Wishful thinking. This is not the cradle for all human kind, just supermodels. And it’s easy to see why. The beaches virtually all 6+ km of it are teeming with activity, and not the sun-bathing kind, but futbol, volleyball, and jogging. Starbucks doesn’t exist here, it’s door to door juice bars, McDonalds is sasquatch rare, and no one smokes. Top it off with a healthy tan, good-looking genes, and you have your average Brazilian.

So it’s easy to see why I slithered into my first Brazilian yoga class. The fact that the only yoga class I could find within a healthy – NYer walking radius of my hotel was in a gym was no comfort. My mind had me mat to mat with Adriana Lima, or any other Victoria Secret Model (since they all seem to come from Brazil nowadays). It would never matter how stable I was in crow or tree, all of my poses would be marked by dimply, pudgy and squat.

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I went to a meditation workshop today at the Tibet House, led by Sharon Salzberg. I’d been looking forward to coming, the talk had received glowing reviews, and as an added bonus, I would be seeing my old friend Simon. There was a simple, inviting kind of warmth in the Tibet’s House. It reminded me of the warmth I often find in a yoga studio, the connection in sharing a space and practice.

I took off my shoes and entered the room, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting , but I was surprised to see the lecture style set up, chairs surrounding a small platform at the front. I suppose I’d become too accustomed to sitting in “my comfortable seat” on the floor. She started off with a quick introduction, her manner and voice were inviting, and maybe even a touch maternal. I could immediately tell, that despite the set up this would be more of a conversation than a lecture, I smiled. Wonderful. She then guided us through our first meditation, and I happily settled into the space and buttery quality of her voice.

Her lecture focused on loving kindness, where she delved into the Buddhisms five hindrances, and states of mindfulness. It was instructive, and exactly what I had been hoping for, just enough to understand without being overwhelmingly informative. Throughout the lecture, I couldn’t help but notice “yoga” terminology peppered throughout. Phrases suchas “energetically”, “mindful awareness”, even non-existent words like, “connectedness”. Which started my mind down the road of “what would my meditation practice be like without yoga?”

In the early days, yoga was not an end in and of itself, it was a means to help yogi’s develop a strong meditation practice, by creating a supple body that could sustain stillness for endless medtation sessions. Some of the meditation may be been lost in many of today’s yoga practices, but I couldn’t help but notice that coincidently the yoga was missing in today’s meditation practice.

She spoke of “walking” meditation, vs. seated meditation, and how to develop the disciple to meditate even when the environment was far from perfect. As we moved into our second (and last) guided meditation, I couldn’t help but become aware of the fidgeting noise around me. Movement caused by physical discomfort of having been in a hard seat for the past hour and a half. I tried to be yogic about it, as I labeled my thought as “judgment” and pressed on. But I know, that had it not been for yoga, I would have also been fidgeting in ways that would have antagonized Simon, and everyone else in a 5 body radius of me. And after all of these downward dogs, and suryanamaskaras I think i finally understood how yoga developed into such an intense practice, only with movement can you find stillness in a world of motion.

I’ve taken a bit of a rest from blogging. I went back home and re-connected with friends and family, some of whom I haven’t seen in years. I suppose I needed to rest. During this time, my practice was spotty. I think after discovering I had to write an essay on my motivation for becoming a teacher, I panicked. I didn’t know if I had a specific motivation. My teaching efforts were always focussed on what I could bring to my “friends and family” to help their needs. I had hoped yoga could “cure” them of some of the problems living in cities bring. After weeks of wondering, I finally realized in yoga, everyone is my friend and family.

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New York Yoga,

So now it’s over. I have a couple loose ends left, some observations to submit, re-take the test in case I bombed it, but I think I’ll be OK. I know it sounds so rehearsed, and by now I’ve said this phrase so many times in my own life, but really ” I can hardly believe it’s all over”. After anxiety ridden weeks of anticipating my class, imagining every which way it could go wrong, it’s over, and it went well. People seemed to respond to my guidance, and assists. My aunt was (as always) fantastic. She did so well, even moving into Urdhva Dhanurasana on her own. I was deee-lighted. And the girls, the girls I’ve shared the last thirteen weeks with were extraordinary.

Every weekend, not only was I learning something new about yoga, but something new about life from each of the girls in class. And they all, until the very end continued to suprise me with their wisdom, and grace. For example, my last class. I assumed this class would be gentle and meditative, because the teacher-trainee is gentle and thoughtful. After a challenging morning my body ached for a restorative. Instead, I found myself shamelessly sweating and collapsing into child’s pose, somehow manging to resist the draw of the DIY svasana. I could not WAIT for the margarita. Yet even if my body was done, I was so happy and proud of her, and of the class she presented. I liked that it was invigorating, challenging, and yet retained its’ Rose-ness. The other classes I participated in were all uniquely memorable. Probably because each of the girls who presented it is special.

These last three months I felt like I had gone back to highschool, where all of my friends were girls, and we didn’t really have to deal with the complication of boys. Already I miss my weekends with them, and the liveliness thier personalities. And even if we didn’t hang out much during our teacher training, I have a feeling we’ll see each other again outside of the studio if only to:

• Marvel at the length of War and Peace, in Spanish – courtesy of Padmasana’s weekend reading
• Do our first Kaya Yoga cross word puzzle – courtesy of Pincha Mayurasana’s bedside reading.
• Figure out how to start my own small business and survive – courtesy of Ganesh
• Get in the best shape of my life – courtesy of virasana.
• Finally learn how to actually pronounce all the anatomical terms- courtesy of Urdhva Vrkaskana
• Be prepared for any eventuality that may occur in my class, including how to say eka pada rajakapotasana
• Watch bakasana turn into a scorpion, because this is as close as I’ll ever get to actually doing one myself
• Admire hanumanasa’s smile, because everyone else is, except maybe herself.

I can’t recommend my experience enough, or the women who shared it with me. I’m already planning on a reunion.