Change Your Mind

Probably the hardest thing to do. Sometimes it isn't a reaction to events that is governing one's emotions. Sometimes, it is the chemicals in one's brain gone haywire. Quick fix: realize/reinforce one's life as a musical. Trick the brain to peace by creating an event that moves things in a "positive" direction...

Moon Day Theory #5 {Dena Kingsberg}

Next Moon Day: Thursday, September 23, 2010.

From Dena Kingsberg:

"Both full and new moon days are observed as yoga holidays in the Ashtanga Yoga tradition.

What is the reasoning behind this?

Like all things of a watery nature (human beings are about 70% water), we are affected by the phases of the moon. The phases of the moon are determined by the moon's relative position to the sun. Full moons occur when they are in opposition and new moons when they are in conjunction. Both sun and moon exert a gravitational pull on the earth." read on

See all 2010 moon days

Irie Ites

-Monday, India

With no intermediate series, the old hard stuff in primary gets amplified. All the extra energy gets processed in the brain and it is just too much to handle. Upside down in sirsasana (headstand) the dialogue is a lot of:

God god god god
I'm upside down, maybe I'll just fall back no
god god god prana prana breathe breathe
This is completely unnatural I'm upside down and finished time to fall over no
Light prana prana breath inhale 1 2 3 4 5

Baddha padmasana/yoga mudra:
breathing and god-thinking punctuated with here comes uthplutih it is coming and it will be hard

Padmasana:
Channel energy channel energy stay light stay light

Utpluthih:
I'm up breathe breathe breathe
Wwwwwwwooonnnnne...
One? Only one? I go to reciting the Yoga Sutras in my head and I get to eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. Like a record skipping. I can't remember what comes next. It starts and gets caught and repeats and I'm stuck on it just like I'm stuck in the air and Sharath is only on five maybe and the record keeps skipping skipping skipping. How long can I just let it skip? Until ten.

It makes me think of how in our bodies, many things change throughout our lives. Our hair color, skin color and texture. Our organs, our bones, our weight, our digestion, our thought process, etc. What is constant? Breathing. The quality may shift, but still as the body transforms each second, the breathe still goes in and then goes out again. So in practice, do I attach/pay attention to the experience of my muscles burning, of my mind freaking out? Or, do I tune into the breathing because even when the muscles aren't burning the breath will still be there? At first I think it is easier to tune into whatever is loudest, but maybe it is a helpful thing to attempt stepping back a bit and listening for the most important thing instead. As I pop up into the next thing after utpluthih and my breathing quickly stabilizes, I realize that actually the freak out is not permanent, not even really that real. It didn't do any permanent life-threatening or debilitating damage. The breath on the other hand was something else entirely. Maybe like a glimpse into infinite potential or something. I try to remember this.

-India, Sunday

Princess of Power

Last night I dreamt of sanskrit letters covered with ants to the soundtrack of a dog barking. That pretty much sums it up.

As much as I would love to not be trite, I suppose it is for good reason. India has a way of pushing you, testing you, taking you to the edge and challenging you to see what you will do. Who are you, really?

Example: You're actually looking forward to some aspect of practice? Okay, well, you don't get to do it until next week. You want to save money/be nice and make breakfast for friends and have picked out a specific menu? Well, no spinach today. Maybe 4pm, you come back. You want your toothbrush to be safe from flying e. coli? You're willing to be chill about everything else in your personal space and cover the toothbrush so you don't have to say anything? It will for sure get knocked innocently onto the wet bathroom floor by your wide-eyed friend. You want a scooter so you can save money and have independence and the wild rush of wind in your hair? You can get one but it will stall every time you take your hand off the gas. And it will be covered in ants. You want a grape juice so you can leave all the little stuff behind you because it isn't really a big deal? Sorry, Madam, no grape juice today.

As the heat begins to rise, as you get ready to throw over the table, as you get ready to rip at your hair and howl, you take a little breath or something equally hippie-new age, you know, think of God and all that, and it is okay you order watermelon juice. Dude brings you a local paper where the front page headline reads "I don't make akki roti anymore". "My God!" you yelp. Why wouldn't she make akki roti anymore? Very tragic. Akki roti is super good.

What female superhero are you?
There's a quiz for that, of course.

-Saturday, India

Power of music

After serious considerations on animal cruelty (dog barking all night was totally mean) and dreams of nightmarishly soggy pincha mayurasana (I haven't practiced second since NY) I need a serious pick-me-up this morning. I brewed some crazy strong coffee (while standing in puddles of water) and turned some music on. I think it works.



To be fair, I also listened to Jayashree and practiced my chanting for God thinking. But sometimes God is in the excitement too.

-India, Friday

Bringing in the sun

ah aaaah ee eeeeeh ooh oooooh
short long short long short long
Super strong coffee begins to pump through my veins, sanskrit vowels loop in my brain, wild neon yoga pants on legs, it is 4am, 4:15am shala time and I'm off to practice. Today is my last day of Mysore primary-- chikitsalicious!

-Wednesday, India

Grrrape Juice

It isn't easy to make a fantastic grape juice and when it's right, it is really right. I remember the grape juices at Veg Park as bigger, but the tall glass they served was enough. The blue straw floats in a purple mush with lighter foamy areas that quickly separate and float to the top with the translucent purple (I hope it isn't tap) water/juice at the bottom. Stirred or not, each sip is a sweet and fruity delight. I tell myself it isn't loaded with sugar, but I know it is and just enjoy. It is easy to gulp it down in three long draws, but I hold myself back between handfuls of Veg Park's delightful South India Thali (a large metal plate with lots of different foods, savory and sweet, to mix and match as you see fit). When I find myself slurping at the foamy bits at the bottom, I don't hesitate to order another.

I found this picture on the internet and yes, this is what the juice looks like when they first serve it and the glass is bigger!

-Monday, India

Surrendering to one's duty: ant killer

As the ant ranks swell around the doorjamb, my role becomes clear: I am Arjuna. Although the weight of all that death weighs heavy on my heart (I really like ants, they seem really smart and cute and have a really excellent work ethic), it is my duty to take care of the apartment and in the epic battle between man and beast, I must take a stand. I find a can of industrial mosquito mustard gas and hope to spray the animals out the door. My attempt at humane crowd control fails and the little creatures scatter. I chase them around the apartment alternating between sickening swats and noxious sprays. The event was clearly in the direction of death and destruction and I had no choice but to kill them all lest the survivors reorganize and plan a counter attack while I sleep. I'm haunted by the idea of opening my eyes to an army of ants staring at me from a pillow or carrying me away to their secret lair where they can charge me with crimes against humanity.

After the last spray was sprayed and ant smooshed, I turned out the light and pulled the covers wondering if that will be the last of that. I know deep down that it isn't. The following morning, I crouch around the apartment scraping up ant corpses to take to the mass grave in the kitchen. Horrible, just horrible. But I am Arjuna and this is my duty and I'm doing it. As Deletion says, I don't know God's plans, death is a part of life, and maybe it was their time to be born into a higher state.

-Saturday, India

Same Same but Different

-Friday, India

1-x-1 fluvir red and yellow
1-1-1 paracetemol white
1-x-1 cluvid? white
1-x-1 antiseptic rinse blue
1-1-1-1 cough syrup green and tasty
Deletion is sitting across the table and I see lips moving and I hear words flowing but the dubbing is way off. My lips are tingling and my feet and toes are creeping further and further away from my torso.
me: I have to lie down
deletion: Yeah, I could use a nap
Without feet fully touching the ground I'm on the bed. My eyes are closed, I'm asleep, they are open, I am awake. I'm going to puke. Organs cold and twisting. Kick the sheets, roll to the side, back, belly. Tingly face- no, forehead...melting off. Pills exploding in torso melting face.





This is after the hospital and on the road to recovery. This is enough to scare anyone off pharmaceuticals for life. Exactly four hours later, awake and oblivious to the horribly psychedelic events that transpired, I feel fine. Raspy, slightly dazed, but generally okay. A completely different kind of sick.

-Tuesday Morning, India

Fever

Fever = no practice. Fever since Saturday. Barely the will to stand. Little bursts of "energy" like writing these few lines which make me feel optimistic. Time for the hospital.

-Monday, India

In pictures

Arrival via Indica under the cover of darkness




View from the road




Road show







Even the trees are different







We arrive




Taking rest







room with a view




smell good/feel good






The fridge key. Best diet ever. Good for fasting and storing valuables.






Loot from the local "bed, bath, and beyond"












Sick evidence









Real fresh coconut water. Accept no alternative!



-Sunday, India

Moon Day Theory #4 {Karyn Grenfell}

Next Moon Day: Wednesday, September 8, 2010.

From Karyn Grenfell at Blue Lotus Ashtanga:

"Through practising Yoga we become aware of our own tendencies and the natural cycles that occur within and around us. Hopefully, over time we are able to function more harmoniously with ourselves and with the environment we live in.

Observing moon days connects us with the functioning of the universe and makes us aware of the effect the universal energy can have on us individually." read on

Home Sick

Waiting for our scooters it hit me--this isn't jet lag, I'm really feeling sick. I woke up with a little cough that continued with eye itching through our self practice sesh (we hadn't practiced since Wednesday, there is a moon day next week, and we were all just in the mood). I did have a little tiny fever and felt much better seated or reclined. Part of me thinks it is just a reaction to the travel and freaking out at my core without knowing it about being in this new environment. I'm sure missing Jesus amplifies this immensely. The cornerstone of my life, my mind has not computed what my body knows at the deepest level: 2 months is a long time and it hurts. My femurs are covered with paper mache ruffles that are expanding and contracting with the fluctuations of humidity in the air.

Since our arrival, we've eaten 2 sets of dosas. One was stand-up place and fluffy and delicious. The second I made at home for breakfast with a ready-made mix bought from the local store. I found a "rustic" black pan that seemed perfect, although probably it was meant for chapatis. I flicked water and it jumped and popped. I ladled ghee onto the surface, immediately igniting and I just stared at it. "Hey guys, have you ever seen ghee on fire?" We all looked for what seemed like a long time and the "Saviour" blew it out without hesitation and that was that. I poured on the mix, let it brown and then flipped. We all agreed they beat the stand-up place but none of us new why.

We registered for classes yesterday. Tomorrow 4:30am led primary class.

-India, Saturday

We arrived

9:24am. The smell of burning branches. Thick, warm, and refreshing air. Birds. That guy shouting something about the vegetable cart. Mysore.


-Friday, India