What does it all mean?

As I watch videos on youtube (my cyber shala or morning inspiration, if you will), I remember last night's dream. I was with a friend. A girl, I think. We were playing maybe a card game or something trivial in a room with a bunch of tables. I think we were playing and slowly Pattabhi Jois (Guruji) started to notice us and play a bit. Last few times I saw him, he was very old, very out there, and not likely to randomly start fraternizing with me. I guess in the dream, our playing interested him and sort of brought him out of the stroke-funk. He started getting younger- like the Guruji of myth. I really wanted him to be my teacher and tell me that if I cried, he would cry (like Nicky Doane's story). There was a feeling of connection, and then I woke up.

Maybe a week ago I dreamt I was sitting at a communal picnic table with a bunch of friends including one who was killed (in real life) much too young. I was confused because she was supposed to be dead, but here she was -- alive.

Not sure if they are connected outside of the table and resurrection thing.

Except that they were both smiling a lot and trying to talk with me.

And the warm fuzzy feeling of peace and joy surrounding them.

I don't need you

It is a strange thing. If you stop needing things, then what do you do? Things become very simple. You are just you, doing things. But what do you do?

I don't have to go to practice. I can practice right here whenever I want. I don't have to prove it to anyone. So I know if and when I practice and that is it. Strange. Liberating.

An adjustment becomes an assist. But really.

I don't have to go to school. I can read a book right here whenever I want. I don't have to prove it to anyone. So I know if and when I read and that is it. Strange. Liberating.

Learning is learning. But only. ?

Do we only do things because of output. No matter how much we resist acting towards "a means to an end" are we going to do it anyway? Do we almost need it?

And even as bold and brave as this could sound right now. As self-contained and confident, after some time, we eventually start to need someone to hold us accountable.

(just musing.)

There is no teacher; you are the guru

"what we are trying in all these discussions and talks here is to see if we cannot radically bring about a transformation of the mind. not accept things as they are, but to understand it, to go into it, to examine it, give your heart and your mind with everything that you have to find out a way of living differently. but, that depends on you and not somebody else, because in this there is no teacher, no pupil. there's no leader. there's no guru. there's no master, no savior. you yourself are the teacher and the pupil. you are the master. you are the guru. you are the leader. you are everything... and to understand is to transform what is..." Jiddu Krishnamurti

NY: Stinky Armpit or Steamy Tropical? (Under pressure)

The good, bad, and ugly post.

Right now, New York is a bit like both. It is a little too hot to feel comfortable walking more than a block but instead of having the permission to just bask in the steamy goodness, one feels compelled to pummel through. I find myself constantly echoing "so good" "yay summer" and "shorts!" It is the only way to find balance between the two worlds.

But really, right now I am a bag of excuses that should probably be stuffed into a sack with "sorrys". If I can't go to the early practice shift, I don't want to go at all because it is just so darn hot and sweaty. I admit it. I like the AC. At my house it gets the room to a bearable 80 (on a good day) with a lot less humidity. I've got a mild case of asthma, so I feel like I really feel that mush humidity/heat. I get annoyed with all the people heaving themselves around me. All that sweat (mine and theirs) gets thrown all over the place and when it is time for Mukta Hasta Sirsasana C I get agitated because my hands just slip all over like I'm giving the floor a massage. I just want to do my practice! I get mad a Guy for trying to get me to reach my full potential. I'm just happy I'm on my mat! I worry about my sternoclavicular joint, so I'm trying to be hyper-precise in my vinyasas. I feel like I don't have enough time in the day. I'm mad that I have to work...

What it comes down to is I am a little ball of cranky right now because I am a little stressed out about an upcoming GRE exam. I know it isn't that big of a deal, but I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself when it comes to academic achievement.


photo: http://thelittlechimpsociety.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/sweaty.jpg

ugh facebook

so easy to get sucked in.  leads to googling ex-boyfriends.  daydreaming about getting the old crew back together.  ick.

Dear God,

It's me.  Are you there?

I'd pray when I was younger when there were things that felt completely out of my control.

A dog please.

Friends please.

Not to get caught please.

And yet, perhaps praying to God is a way of controlling the situation.  If I ask God, then clearly I have delegated a task to someone/thing who can get things done.  I've tossed a statement into a jar and sent it out to sea.  I have written a letter to Santa for presents and they better be the right ones otherwise I'll be stuck with a bunch of crap I don't want...

Asking God for stuff is making a choice that something is what I want.  At the time (back in the day) I'm sure I was talking to God the dude in the sky with the beard and I was this super-powerful earth goddess that totally connected with him.  I could talk to animals too.  Obviously.

I don't really pray like that anymore.  I think about God, but it is less like God my Big Brother and more like God the world is an amazing place.  I think about people and now and happiness and sadness and suffering and blessings.  I think about all this stuff crashing into each other in the middle of an intersection and that explosion in the center is God.  I think.

But today was different.  I had these intense internal moments during practice where I was there but then also sort of consciously decided to day dream that actually I was floating up to the sky and in Mukta Hasta Sirsasana C on a surf board zipping through the clouds.  And then I was thinking about blue bursts of light shooting up my guts and spine the color of blue 1980's dance/aerobics video lighting.  And then I was up in space flying around.  I just took my mind to this crazy place and giggled inside that no one in the room could have imagined that I was thinking about this stuff.

And it was also God.  It started with "God, I think that maybe today is the day that this crazy stuff is just going to snap my body in two".  And it turned into just "God".  God. God. God.  It gave me something to think about so I felt like I was busy or something.

But then after class as I dodged last night's puke on the sidewalk and hopped over puddles of dog pee, I thought about praying (or whatever).  "Um, so, hey God (or whatever).  Here's where I am at.  Give me a sign or something.  Okay, thanks."

I think that is it.

Kamikaze Practice -- from the crazy mixed up files of second series

stuff that should probably be marked as really private but whatever

... and some days I get this feeling of just... just dead.  Everything is dead and pointless and meaningless and a whole lot of complete bullshit and I really really just want to keep connecting with truth, reality, god, whatever.  

Drishti, flying, drugs, cliff jumping, tattoos, sex, heights, extreme sports, dancing, kamikaze practice.

Those headstands at the end of second are like that.  Some people are more suicidal than others.  I get a sick thrill out of just falling and then last second --bam!  Hands on the floor.  Bam!  Hands on the floor!  Bam!  That was loud!  Bam!  Fuck everyone in the room!  Bam! Alive! Bam!  Bam!  Strength, concentration?  Maybe just a whole lot of just me.  Just getting real small and sitting inside this body and laughing at all the crazy shit it does.  Getting a wild joy out of riding it into the sunset.  Trying to wear myself out so that everything else get in perspective or a little bit quieter and a little less immediate and important.  A bit like Fight Club...

"After a night in fight club, everything in the real world gets the volume turned down.  Nothing can piss you off.  Your word is law, and if other people break that law or question you, even that doesn't piss you off."

Miss you

I miss blogging. I do.

There are many truths to why I am at the bottom of the mountain with all my gear just paralyzed and unable to take that first step...until now? No guarantees. The truth is that I don't want to feel that I am writing for anyone. I don't want to feel like I am doing anything just to report back or bring to show and tell. I am at a place where I really want to share stuff but also want to keep it to myself. I want people to read but I also want to pretend that no one reads it at all. I want to be anonymous, but also I don't.

I want to say where I am in practice, how it is going, and that my scalp sheds like a snake skin. I want people to reply that that happened to them too from the headstands. But I also don't want to say that I am doing them. I want to say that I am teaching a little again, but I don't want word to get around and get into "trouble" with whomever.

It is really weird. I have been writing a bit on a completely private blog. I don't check the grammar, I just kind of write whatever. It is so much different when you know that it is possible for people to read the bullshit that you write. I feel like I really have to say something.

Here it is: I don't know what to say.

Big then small then big again

(originally posted at sanghayogashala.wordpress.com)

Even though all things are shades of grey, sometimes when speaking, we are forced to paint them black or white. It could be that we lack the time, words, pause, whatever the reason, a label has been placed and something is now something whether it was the way we saw it originally or not. Everytime we open our mouths or pick up the pen to speak, a bit of meaning is lost. Sometimes, however, there can also be an opportunity to look at the output as a more defined (even if crude) statement of what the root of something is.

Ashtanga is like this. It could be its cultural foundation, the absence of common language, or maybe it is just how it is supposed to be taught — simple and to the point. And in being economic with the statement, all the little parts and meanings come together to complete a big action. Of course sometimes although the statement is understood, the focus becomes the gathering of the little parts. “Jump!” leads to “how do I externally rotate this and what breath should I do that and where should I look?” instead of just jumping. Not showing up for practice breaks into I had to do this and then this happened so then I did this and then this instead of just realizing the time was not made to make something happen. It is really easy to just jump and it is equally as easy to get caught up in the million little pieces. Which is better? Which teaches and transforms us more? I think it is all shades of grey — a definite statement of black or white. It is nothing and it is everything. Sometimes things are very specific, sometimes they are broad. Sometimes it all makes sense, sometimes it does not at all.

Getting out of the language and into the practice can be an unsettling place. Reasons, excuses, and conditions are no longer valid. “Why” becomes “why not”. My practice is my practice and just like anyone else’s I settle into patterns and reasons and excuses and conditions. Meeting myself everyday, my same teacher, my same life, it is easy to also be the same. Slowly, I become something that I am allowed to be even if it is not my most maximum expression of possibility. And then something changes. A new teacher, a different breakfast, a new walk to work, and in an instant, I am confronted with the difference between where I am and where I think I am and have the possibility to be.

There was this transition between postures that was particularly challenging to me. Eventually I did it and then slowly felt that since I did it I didn’t have to do it everyday but could pull it out whenever I wanted to. Sometimes this is true, but it turns out that this was not like riding a bike or “hula-ing” a hula hoop. I was working with a new teacher and they looked at me quizzically when I didn’t take the transition. I then asked myself “why not” and spilled into a million little pieces and then decided that yes, “why not?” and tried. And tried. And am still trying to not think and just do because in this case, the grey is turning into white and I want it to be black because it can be. Because it starts as the grey and then things become black or white before we know it.

I think that this is what it is all about. Seeing, changing, transforming, becoming, and being. A constant big then small then big again. An endless cycle of being who you are, losing that, and then coming back again.

–Elise

(Video via youtube by govindakai of led intermediate series in Mysore, India at KPJAYI. Students are working on Karandavasana…)

Guruji

I'm living in a tiny New York apartment in true bohemian style with books and pictures from floor to ceiling and an occasional nic-nack nestled here and there. Over time it becomes part of the landscape and I stop noticing all the little bits that make up the whole. But yesterday as I was leaving the house, I paused for a moment and stared at a picture of Guruji. It was like opening my eyes under water, watching the bubbles go up and a pebble slowly float down. Time kind of stopped and it was me and this image and just thinking about this monumental person.

And then this morning, we've all heard: Guruji has passed away. I'm not sure what there is to say except that this practice has changed my life. I am who I am because of the teachings of this amazing person. The short moments I was lucky enough to spend with him were beautiful and full of joy. Thank you, Guruji.

Guruji

I'm living in a tiny New York apartment in true bohemian style with books and pictures from floor to ceiling and an occasional nic-nack nestled here and there. Over time it becomes part of the landscape and I stop noticing all the little bits that make up the whole. But yesterday as I was leaving the house, I paused for a moment and stared at a picture of Guruji. It was like opening my eyes under water, watching the bubbles go up and a pebble slowly float down. Time kind of stopped and it was me and this image and just thinking about this monumental person.

And then this morning, we've all heard: Guruji has passed away. I'm not sure what there is to say except that this practice has changed my life. I am who I am because of the teachings of this amazing person. The short moments I was lucky enough to spend with him were beautiful and full of joy. Thank you, Guruji.