Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Bibi Lorenzetti in ABQ
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WORKSHOP WEEKEND
May 17 & 18, 2014
Practice + Food: A weekend intensive in how food and yoga come together.
Full weekend registration: $90 member / $95 nonmember
Saturday, May 17th from 9-11:30am.
Vegetarian Lifestyle and Cooking
Being a vegetarian in your life and in your kitchen-- a 3-course vegetarian meal with discussion on vegetarian diet.
Saturday only registration: $50 member / $55 nonmember
Whether you already consider yourself a chef or think cooking a meal for one involves the microwave and plastic wrap, this class is for you! Bibi will teach you how to make easy, fast, and most importantly, nutritious meals that you’ll want to make again and again.
-Learn to cook easy and fast and healthy meals for one or more
-Discover new foods and how to use them
-Learn Bibi’s top tips and tricks to guarantee a flavorful meal
-Learn the benefits of the foods we’re eating
Class includes:
-Cooking demonstration
-3-course meal, Instructions & recipes
Sunday, May 18th from 9-11.30am
Asana Practice & Healthy Lifestyle
Led primary series followed by a discussion on food & healthy lifestyle and how it's related to the practice.
Sunday only registration: $40 member / $45 nonmember
MORNING MYSORE CLASSES
May 16-23, 2014.
Door opens for practice at 8:15 am Sunday and 6:30 am Monday-Friday.
Opening mantra/teacher guidance at 8:30 am on Sunday and 7 am Monday-Friday until 9:30 am each day.
Door closes at 10 am.
Beginners should arrive after 8:30 on Sunday or after 7am Mon-Fri on their first day.
Included in regular Mysore tuition for ongoing students.
New? Register now for one month / one week / one day.
Beginners and new students are welcome and encouraged to attend.
EVENING MYSORE CLASSES (FOR BEGINNERS)
Monday & Wednesday 4:30-6:30pm
$20 drop-in (register).
Please note that this is not included in ongoing Mysore student tuition.
PRIVATE SESSIONS
Bibi will also be offering private yoga, cooking, and health coaching sessions.
60-minutes ($80) / 90-minutes ($120)
Please email to make an appointment: bibi.lorenzetti@gmail.com
ABOUT BIBI
After meeting Shri Sharath Jois in a workshop in New York in 2011 Bibi knew she had found her Guru. Since then she has traveled yearly to see her teacher in Mysore, India and study under his guidance at the Krishna Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute (KPJAYI).
Bibi is currently learning the Advanced A Series under the guidance of Shri Sharath Jois, her beloved Guru. She assists Kristin Leigh and Barbara Verocchi at the Shala's Mysore program in NYC.
Bibi is passionate about her personal yoga practice and the Ashtanga lineage. Her devotion and love for the practice come through her teaching, inspiring others to stay on the path. She shares this with enthusiasm and contagious joy! Bibi guides her beginner students in the building of a daily practice, and assists the growth of the more advanced practitioners. Her teachings are inspired by her own practice and the desire to foster greater introspection, and a deeper sense of self in order to evoke clarity, light, space, and stability.
In her work as a health coach, Bibi emphasizes taking proper care of oneself through fine-tuning the body and tapping into its inner wisdom. In her programs, Bibi supports her clients in making radically positive changes in the way they feel about and perceive themselves through food and cooking.
"I extend boundless gratitude to my Guru Sharath Jois, and my teachers and mentorsand look forward to sharing these transformational and awakening practices with you." -Bibi
Photo: Bibi teaching at The Shala (NYC)
Friday, May 9, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
Krista Shirley Returns to the 505
MYSORE CLASSES
Monday-Friday April 16-25.
PRACTICE+THEORY
Sunday, April 20 from 9-11:30am.
Led primary series followed by a discussion on practice.
New students and beginners are welcome to attend.
About Krista:
Krista Shirley is a KPJAYI Level 2 Authorized Ashtanga yoga teacher and owner/head teacher at The Yoga Shala in Orlando, Florida.
Krista has been a dedicated student and practitioner of Ashtanga yoga for over a decade. She found this practice in college and it touched her so deeply she traveled down a path different than what was originally laid out for her. After graduation she started traveling the world delving deeper into her yoga studies. After meeting Shri K. Pattabhi Jois in a workshop in New York in 2004 Krista knew she had found her Guru – his essence was undeniable, his spirit light and loving, and his vast knowledge of asana, Sanskrit, chanting and philosophy was an endless well to draw from. Krista has made eight trips to Mysore, India to study at the Krishna Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute (KPJAYI) in order to study with Guruji and Sharath, connect to this lineage and feel the essence of this living parampara. In 2009 Krista received Level 2 Authorization by the Krishna Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute to teach both the Primary and Intermediate series. She is currently learning the Advanced A Series.
Krista’s dedication to her personal yoga practice and the Ashtanga lineage shine through in her teaching. Her energy is contagious and inspiring! Krista specializes in meeting each student where they are, helping them not only create a habit of daily practice, learn the sequence of asanas, work towards physical mastery of the postures, but also helping each student go inside themselves to heal old wounds, forgive old hurts, let go of the things in their lives that no longer serve them. Krista is here to help you begin or advance your Ashtanga Yoga journey and looks forward to sharing this transformational and enriching practice with you.
About Mysore:
“Mysore style” is traditionally practiced silently, with individual instruction, and is named after Mysore, India, where Ashtanga yoga originated and was taught by Sri K Pattabhi Jois for many years. Anyone is welcome to come to this class. Students will work at their own pace, according to his or her individual needs, while Krista walks around the room providing hands on adjustments and verbal instruction as needed. If you do not have the primary series memorized, you will spend your first few weeks in class repeating bits of the standing sequence until it is committed to memory. At that point, you will come in daily, do your sun salutations, standing postures, seated postures and finishing postures on your own, under the guidance of your teacher. Mysore style is the absolute best way to learn and practice Yoga. It enables you to create a dedicated, daily practice that will take you infinitely deeper into the peace and calm a quiet mind and strong body can provide.
Ashtanga Yoga, done daily, will increase flexibility, strength, endurance, and physical and mental balance; it will cleanse the internal systems of the body and provide a healthy source of focus and dedication in ones life – something everyone needs!
About Led:
Ashtanga Primary Series - Yoga Chikitsa (Yoga Therapy):
This traditional sanskrit counted class will explore the fundamentals of the Ashtanga Yoga Method in a led/guided classroom setting.: The Vinyasa system, expanding the breath, and the principles of the bandhas and drishti. Experience continuous movement with breathe learning the harmonious flow of the first series in its traditional form. Primary Series will cover the Sun Salutation, standing postures, seated postures and all finishing postures from the Ashtanga Yoga tradition. This class is recommended for those already exposed to Ashtanga Yoga practice.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Moon Days 2014
Moon days might vary depending on where you live. Check with your teacher for your local dates.
1/15
1/30
2/14
2/28
3/16
3/30
4/14
4/28
5/13
5/28
6/12
6/26
7/11
7/26
8/10
8/24
9/8
9/23
10/7
10/23
11/6
11/21
12/5
12/21
Friday, January 10, 2014
Thursday, January 9, 2014
A little inspiration {Video}
Age 44, 31 weeks 5 days gestation, daily practice. Just an average morning over at the Albuquerque Ashtanga Yoga Shala.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Resolution #1 Begin a Yoga Practice
Any time is a great time to follow your heart and try something new or make a change. From learning how to crochet to stepping into that first yoga class, for me, 2011 is about putting thought into action. Articles pop up everyday about the positive impact of yoga on both the body and mind. But how do you transition from reading about yoga to actually getting into a class? A few of us at Go Yoga have jotted down our answers to help you out of your winter boots and onto your yoga mat.
Why should people start practicing yoga? Why should it be one of their goals or resolutions for 2011?
Lilia Mead (Go Yoga, Teacher and Founder):
Yoga is for everyone, even if everyone isn’t for Yoga. If you can breathe, have a mind and body and a deep seated desire for “ultimate happiness”, then Yoga practice and philosophy is for you. If you are investigating who you really are; beyond the body, mind complex, then Yoga is for You. If during the day you suffer from various mental afflictions and are not sure where they are coming from or how to eradicate them, then Yoga is for you. If not now, then when? Besides, why postpone joy (something I read on a bumper sticker, but true none the less).
Yoga is for everyone, even if everyone isn’t for Yoga. If you can breathe, have a mind and body and a deep seated desire for “ultimate happiness”, then Yoga practice and philosophy is for you. If you are investigating who you really are; beyond the body, mind complex, then Yoga is for You. If during the day you suffer from various mental afflictions and are not sure where they are coming from or how to eradicate them, then Yoga is for you. If not now, then when? Besides, why postpone joy (something I read on a bumper sticker, but true none the less).
Michael Hewett (Go Yoga, Teacher and Sarva Yoga Academy, Founder):
We’ve all heard the yoga means union or, oneness. Oneness manifests through trinities…subjects, objects, and the relationship between the two. This is the way we participate in every experience. For each of Us to own this creative experience and stabilize into a realm of abundance, safety, profundity, and love for All beings, we must glimpse this interdependent relationship through the practice and study of yoga.
We’ve all heard the yoga means union or, oneness. Oneness manifests through trinities…subjects, objects, and the relationship between the two. This is the way we participate in every experience. For each of Us to own this creative experience and stabilize into a realm of abundance, safety, profundity, and love for All beings, we must glimpse this interdependent relationship through the practice and study of yoga.
Elise Espat (Go Yoga, Teacher and Ashtanga Yoga Brooklyn, Founder)
Guruji (the late Shri K. Pattabhi Jois) would say that one is drawn to yoga because they practiced in a previous life. This is from the Gita:
“By virtue of the divine consciousness of his previous life, he automatically becomes attracted to the yogic principles — even without seeking them. Such an inquisitive transcendentalist stands always above the ritualistic principles of the scriptures.”
Guruji (the late Shri K. Pattabhi Jois) would say that one is drawn to yoga because they practiced in a previous life. This is from the Gita:
“By virtue of the divine consciousness of his previous life, he automatically becomes attracted to the yogic principles — even without seeking them. Such an inquisitive transcendentalist stands always above the ritualistic principles of the scriptures.”
If you feel a pull toward yoga, then let it begin now. Otherwise, it is always “oh tomorrow, tomorrow”. Also, in Guruji’s book, Yoga Mala, he says that winter is the best time to start yoga…
Ralph De La Rosa (Go Yoga, Manager and Meditation Teacher)
Plain and simple: Yoga is an excellent idea for anyone who enjoys feeling amazing, and is interested in struggling less in life.
If someone wants to begin practicing yoga, where should they start?
Lilia:
A good place to start is a basics class or a beginner series at a studio that grabs your heart. I would recommend researching studios and teachers at those center’s with a lot of teaching experience and practice under their belt. Also, I think it is important that the teachings come from a long, pure lineage that traces back in time. Another words; authentic and not new age or arbitrary.
Michael:
Start where your passion lies. What turns you on? Where do you get frisky when you think of your favorite things to do? Skiing, music, love making, cooking, travel, worship… it simply doesn’t matter which path you take as long as it is taken.
Elise:
If you have a friend that invited you to class, go! If you see a sign for a yoga shala, walk in, get a schedule, and sign up for a class. There are so many options out there, you are bound to try things that you decide are not for you. When this happens, grab your mat and try something new. Be persistent in establishing your practice and be ready to make a commitment and do the work when you find the right fit.
Ralph:
By taking a Basic class! It may sound obvious, but too many people start with DVDs or podcasts. The best way to learn anything is always from another person who is in the room with you. Books and whatnot are great, but only once you’ve built your foundation.
Philosophically: By contemplating how good your life already is. I’ve got friends, love, warmth, food, clothing, shelter, intelligence, and the most amazing city one could live in – that’s only the tip of the iceberg, and so many people live with so much less. I’ve got all of this, and yet time is slipping past me at an alarming speed. What do I do with my incredible privilege and good fortune? How do I make this all count? No matter what my answer is, a yoga practice is a great asset for getting me there.
What should someone look for when choosing their first teacher and how do they find them?
Lilia:
Personally, I think there are a lot of young “Yoga” instructor’s running around the city, but not a lot of people truly teaching Yoga. I want to know that my teacher’s know their Yamas and Niyamas, are meditating and practicing Guru Yoga (or at least know what it means) and are not mistaking the path or practices for the goal itself; Enlightenment, Samadhi, Nirvana, Freedom from Suffering etc. There needs to be a scriptural source for the teaching. In other words, not simply the individual’s take or spin on the practice; random spiritual thoughts of the day.
Michael:
They will turn you on and inspire like the way great musicians inspire young musicians. Being in the presence of a Being like this feels like riding a magic carpet…like the way high art raises you to a higher level. People find a Teacher by desiring to have a relationship with a Teacher, and everyone…everyone wants this kind of relationship in their life. It is as unmistakable as romantic chemistry.
Traditionally {in the Tibetan tradition} the first three qualities of a qualified Teacher is their perfect ethical behavior, their concentration to maintain this fidelity in all situations, and their stainless and unshakable wisdom which is the view that all beings are their own sweet self.
Elise:
Parampara. They should have direct and practical experience with yoga practice and teaching. They should come from a lineage of knowledge. They should inspire you. They should be a living example of the benefits of yoga.
Ralph:
Detailed instruction, and someone you simply like. Ask them questions about your practice. Ask them who else to go to. And stick with them when they start to push your buttons. You find your teachers by just practicing and trying lots of different things. This is why we try to offer so many workshops at Go. Having exposure and access to different approaches is really key.
What should someone look for when choosing a yoga studio?
Lilia:
Choosing a Yoga studio is like entering into a very intimate relationship. All the right conditions must be there. Connection to the teachings and teacher, the vibe, aesthetic, authenticity of the practice and lineage. The whole experience; from the moment you walk in until you step foot back outside. How does it all make you feel? Can you let your guard down, feel safe and vulnerable enough to sweat your prayers and be as real as you can be?
Michael:
Master Patanjali’s Astanga yoga should be taught: all eight limbs are being addressed: Harmonious conduct in life [yama/niyama], physical practices, subtle body/breath/emotional control, sensory withdrawal, and how to refine concentration into bliss.
By the way, Costa Rica is not a limb of yoga.
Elise:
If we use the shastras as a standard, then it is very specific in terms of environment — a clean indoor space on the ground floor in a place with many trees — it goes on… For most city dwellers, find a place that makes you feel excited about going to class. It might be a church basement, a gym, or a yoga studio with Ganesh on the wall. It is also important to think about it as an investment. You might start at one place and decide another better fits your practice and ethical principles.
Ralph:
Friendliness. What are the people who teach, practice and work there like? If they are happy and attentive, then they’re doing something right; and that’s where you want to be.
How should a beginner choose what classes to attend?
Michael:
Study with teachers you have chemistry with and stick close to Them. This is a changing thing in that they will shift over the years. It will be the most magnetic way of staying in the practice over a long period of time. After all, if you can’t do what you’re teacher says, how will you ever listen to your inner voice, and how would you ever be capable of doing what you set out to do?
Elise:
Ralph:
Trial and error. Don’t settle into a “comfort zone” too quickly. Every teacher has something to show you.
How should one prepare for that first class?
Michael:
Be kind in your motivation towards others as steadily as possible until it spills over into your dreamlife.
Michael:
Be kind in your motivation towards others as steadily as possible until it spills over into your dreamlife.
Elise:
Read the beginner section of the class website. They’ll let you know what you should bring and how to get ready. Arrive early (10-15 minutes) so you can leisurely get acquainted with the space and registration procedures. Don’t eat at least 2 hours before class.
Read the beginner section of the class website. They’ll let you know what you should bring and how to get ready. Arrive early (10-15 minutes) so you can leisurely get acquainted with the space and registration procedures. Don’t eat at least 2 hours before class.
Ralph:
Show up a little early. Quiet yourself, take a break, and set an intention or reminder. This can make or break any practice. I like to remind myself to be present and diligent; to really show up for the challenge – but also to back off and take rest when I need to. Also, it’s a great idea to break the cycle of being so self-concerned all the time. Yoga makes me a better friend, lover, family member, co-worker, teacher, student… I have so much more brilliance to offer the world when I’ve been practicing. Dedicating a practice to the betterment of the world is a clever way to taste freedom.
Any other advice for someone interested in starting a practice/those first classes?
Michael:
Basic classes three times a week for three months, at least.
Elise:
Yoga is a whole life practice that develops over an entire lifetime. Take it easy, be patient, and as my Sanskrit teacher in India says, “practice with happy”.
Ralph:
Seriously, just do it and keep doing it. The hardest part is getting started. Once you’re in the full swing of things, you will be so glad you worked past any initial reluctance. You will surprise and inspire yourself. Also, be kind. Stop giving your inner self-critic the time of day. You’re awesome and your life is nothing short of a full-blown miracle. This is about making the very most of that.
-Elise Espat
ABOUT:
In January 2000, Lilia Mead opened Go Yoga with the help and support of countless others. Her practice and classes include Vinyasa, Pranayama, Meditation, and Chanting. In 1997, she completed her Jivamukti training with her first and most profound teachers Sharon Gannon and David Life. Since then, she’s had the opportunity to study with many great masters, including T.K.V Desikachar, Mary Dunn, Genny Kapular, Geshe Michael Roach and Lama Christie McNally. She traveled to India in 1999 to study with the esteemed Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, and in 2002 returned to study with meditation master Sri Sri Ravi Shankar. In 2006, Lilia’s spiritual practice expanded to include the birth of her daughter and three years later, a son. Becoming a mother has proved to be the most challenging, yet fulfilling spiritual practice to date.
In January 2000, Lilia Mead opened Go Yoga with the help and support of countless others. Her practice and classes include Vinyasa, Pranayama, Meditation, and Chanting. In 1997, she completed her Jivamukti training with her first and most profound teachers Sharon Gannon and David Life. Since then, she’s had the opportunity to study with many great masters, including T.K.V Desikachar, Mary Dunn, Genny Kapular, Geshe Michael Roach and Lama Christie McNally. She traveled to India in 1999 to study with the esteemed Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, and in 2002 returned to study with meditation master Sri Sri Ravi Shankar. In 2006, Lilia’s spiritual practice expanded to include the birth of her daughter and three years later, a son. Becoming a mother has proved to be the most challenging, yet fulfilling spiritual practice to date.
Michael Hewett has been teaching yoga and dharma full time since 1997. Reflecting his extensive training and creativity, Michael’s heat-building vinyasa classes emphasize breath, meditation and yogic philosophy. Over the past fourteen years, he has studied with Alan Finger, Cyndi Lee, David Nichtern, Sharon Gannon and David Life. In 2004, he met his root teachers, Geshe Michael Roach and Lama Christie McNally, and began studying Tibetan Buddhism in the lineage of His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
In 2010, Michael founded Sarva Yoga Academy out of a deep sense of gratitude and respect for the power of the ancient practices and teachers who’ve dedicated their lives to passing wisdom to us. Sarva Yoga Academy’s mission is to transmit the knowledge and practices of the great Indian and Tibetan yogic lineages, which teach students the difference between power and force, participation and manipulation, and how to transmute every moment of their life into spiritual practice.
Michael is also an accomplished composer, guitarist of over twenty five years, and recording artist who has released four full-length albums and numerous singles. He plays lead guitar in the hit Broadway Musical, “Wicked” and tours internationally with his own project.
Ralph De La Rosa is a lifelong spiritual seeker and, more recently, a spiritual finder. Yoga and meditation have offered him the hands-down, best solutions to the depression, addiction, anxiety and trauma that weighed him down for a very, very long time. Ralph is the manager of Go Yoga, teaches meditation with The Interdependence Project (www.theidproject.org), and is studying to become a psychotherapist at Fordham University.
Originally published January 2011: http://goyogabrooklyn.wordpress.com/2011/01/04/resolution-1-get-started-with-yoga/
Monday, December 2, 2013
Visiting practice
I can't remember if I posted this when it was published. In either case, 'tis the season.
Taking my practice on the road by Esther Liberman (Elephant Journal)
My husband and I traveled to Albuquerque, New Mexico this past weekend for one of the most beautiful weddings we have ever attended. The bride, my college roommate and dear friend, chose to put aside every convention of self-importance to set her non-denominational special day on a sustainable farm that also housed and entertained the lot of us for the entire weekend. It was gorgeous, relaxing and a lot of fun.
Over dinner the first night, her husband, a new dear friend, and I chatted about our Jewish backgrounds and how similarly we’d grown up—he in Canada and I in Colombia. Despite the radical differences between the two countries, their Jewish populations shared countless similarities in their approach to worship and community.
Some conventions we both remember fondly and as far less-practicing adults we still appreciate (cantor-driven prayer in Hebrew, to which we sang along phonetically, much like mantra). Some we’ve always questioned (separating men’s seating from women’s). The truly fascinating aspect of our comparison of childhood notes, though, were not these details, but rather that despite the fact that we grew up on different continents and in different languages, the form and fashion of our religious identity was virtually identical.
Driving back from dinner to the luscious farm where we’d be staying for the weekend, I saw the sign for the Nahalat Shalom congregation whiz by the car window, one more adobe edifice in the desert. “Maybe we can pop in for Shabbat services tomorrow night,” I said to my husband. “Uh,” stalled the even less-practicing Jew who grew up the same way I did but remembers religious customs slightly less fondly, “don’t we have a rehearsal dinner to attend?”
Skeptical as he is, my husband also knows me very well and could guess why I’d made the suggestion. He remembers my old habit of visiting temples on Shabbat whenever I found myself in a foreign country, despite the fact I seldom (if ever) attend services when I’m home, just to be able to walk into a situation that is, regardless of the surrounding culture and within the confines of the temple walls, entirely familiar.
Going to Shabbat services in 1993 in the Marais in Paris, I managed a better pronunciation of my prayers in Hebrew than what I had all week in my terrible, highly critiqueable efforts at French. A Friday night spent in the only functioning temple in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 2000 felt more like home than had anything else for a whole summer in that desolate, haunted city.
Not wanting to deny me the anthropological curiosity and personal comfort that I derive from this old ritual of mine, my husband was about to agree to go to temple, when I abruptly agreed with him. “You’re right, we do have a dinner tomorrow night. Besides, we’re going to Mysore practice in the morning...” continue reading full article
Taking my practice on the road by Esther Liberman (Elephant Journal)
My husband and I traveled to Albuquerque, New Mexico this past weekend for one of the most beautiful weddings we have ever attended. The bride, my college roommate and dear friend, chose to put aside every convention of self-importance to set her non-denominational special day on a sustainable farm that also housed and entertained the lot of us for the entire weekend. It was gorgeous, relaxing and a lot of fun.
Over dinner the first night, her husband, a new dear friend, and I chatted about our Jewish backgrounds and how similarly we’d grown up—he in Canada and I in Colombia. Despite the radical differences between the two countries, their Jewish populations shared countless similarities in their approach to worship and community.
Some conventions we both remember fondly and as far less-practicing adults we still appreciate (cantor-driven prayer in Hebrew, to which we sang along phonetically, much like mantra). Some we’ve always questioned (separating men’s seating from women’s). The truly fascinating aspect of our comparison of childhood notes, though, were not these details, but rather that despite the fact that we grew up on different continents and in different languages, the form and fashion of our religious identity was virtually identical.
Driving back from dinner to the luscious farm where we’d be staying for the weekend, I saw the sign for the Nahalat Shalom congregation whiz by the car window, one more adobe edifice in the desert. “Maybe we can pop in for Shabbat services tomorrow night,” I said to my husband. “Uh,” stalled the even less-practicing Jew who grew up the same way I did but remembers religious customs slightly less fondly, “don’t we have a rehearsal dinner to attend?”
Skeptical as he is, my husband also knows me very well and could guess why I’d made the suggestion. He remembers my old habit of visiting temples on Shabbat whenever I found myself in a foreign country, despite the fact I seldom (if ever) attend services when I’m home, just to be able to walk into a situation that is, regardless of the surrounding culture and within the confines of the temple walls, entirely familiar.
Going to Shabbat services in 1993 in the Marais in Paris, I managed a better pronunciation of my prayers in Hebrew than what I had all week in my terrible, highly critiqueable efforts at French. A Friday night spent in the only functioning temple in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 2000 felt more like home than had anything else for a whole summer in that desolate, haunted city.
Not wanting to deny me the anthropological curiosity and personal comfort that I derive from this old ritual of mine, my husband was about to agree to go to temple, when I abruptly agreed with him. “You’re right, we do have a dinner tomorrow night. Besides, we’re going to Mysore practice in the morning...” continue reading full article
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Beyond belief
I'm perched in karandavasana when I realize help will not come.
Karandavasana is possibly the hardest asana overall in the intermediate series of Ashtanga yoga. It is so hard that women aren't held to the same standards as men. All women except for me.
In karandavasana your forearms are on the floor and your legs are in the air like when you stand on your head except your head isn't on the ground. Then you cross your legs like a pretzel (in the air) and lower them down to touch your armpits with your butt hovering in the air above the ground. You perch there for five very slow, very deep breaths and then you slowly reverse the movements, taking the legs back up to the ceiling. Then you hop your hands and feet into the bottom of a push up position. So, yeah, it is hard.
Men have to be able to consistently do the whole thing with ease and grace before being moved on to the next asana in the series. Women only need to be able to come down and perch. From there one of the assistants or my teacher picks you up and puts you in the original position but you do have to jump back correctly before being moved on.
The female version I got, no problem. I was moved on a few years ago and so today I do the usual. I take my legs up, I cross them, I slowly lower down and breathe calmly, waiting for someone to pick me up. Five breaths (which is all you need to do) go by, ten breaths, fifteen breaths, twenty breaths and I realize that help is not coming. I sit down and look across the room to my teacher who is looking at me and then looks away. This means "do it yourself because you can". Standing next to me is one of the assistants and he is kind of chuckling to himself.
"Really?" I shrug and try again.
No one comes. And again. No one comes. and again... Each time the two assistants are just shrugging and saying sorry because we all know that this is kind of a big deal and it is funny at how impossible it seems but he really wants me to come up by myself. Eventually he does come over and helps me up. He did this the last trip for a minute and I guess I never took the hint or at least not seriously or it is just a really slow process mentally and it doesn't need to be. Sometimes it is hard to believe in yourself as much as someone else. And this someone else I truly believe and want to see it through because he has absolutely no reason to need to believe in me. He just does.
Karandavasana is possibly the hardest asana overall in the intermediate series of Ashtanga yoga. It is so hard that women aren't held to the same standards as men. All women except for me.
In karandavasana your forearms are on the floor and your legs are in the air like when you stand on your head except your head isn't on the ground. Then you cross your legs like a pretzel (in the air) and lower them down to touch your armpits with your butt hovering in the air above the ground. You perch there for five very slow, very deep breaths and then you slowly reverse the movements, taking the legs back up to the ceiling. Then you hop your hands and feet into the bottom of a push up position. So, yeah, it is hard.
Men have to be able to consistently do the whole thing with ease and grace before being moved on to the next asana in the series. Women only need to be able to come down and perch. From there one of the assistants or my teacher picks you up and puts you in the original position but you do have to jump back correctly before being moved on.
The female version I got, no problem. I was moved on a few years ago and so today I do the usual. I take my legs up, I cross them, I slowly lower down and breathe calmly, waiting for someone to pick me up. Five breaths (which is all you need to do) go by, ten breaths, fifteen breaths, twenty breaths and I realize that help is not coming. I sit down and look across the room to my teacher who is looking at me and then looks away. This means "do it yourself because you can". Standing next to me is one of the assistants and he is kind of chuckling to himself.
"Really?" I shrug and try again.
No one comes. And again. No one comes. and again... Each time the two assistants are just shrugging and saying sorry because we all know that this is kind of a big deal and it is funny at how impossible it seems but he really wants me to come up by myself. Eventually he does come over and helps me up. He did this the last trip for a minute and I guess I never took the hint or at least not seriously or it is just a really slow process mentally and it doesn't need to be. Sometimes it is hard to believe in yourself as much as someone else. And this someone else I truly believe and want to see it through because he has absolutely no reason to need to believe in me. He just does.
The one where I just can't because everything is happening so much
Yesterday started with that one-footed asana practice which was doable but there is this saying here that goes "practice plus one" and just eating would have filled the plus one portion. But it was a holiday - a big one - and India always wins. After practice I came home for a nap so that the whole routine is really to get up in the middle of the night, go to class and then come home and continue sleeping like nothing ever happened. And if your practice time is early like mine then you get home and it is still dark and it was all just a dream.
So after I woke up for real I just wanted my usual which makes everything okay. My usual is a stack of English papers and breakfast to-go from the stand up place. Idli vada or set dosa "parcel-la".
They were closed.
So I went around the corner to the stand up sit down place. Also closed.
I look around and realize that for sure everything will be closed except for the vendors that have popped up suddenly selling banana leaves and other festival items (which are now abandoned everywhere and are causing a major cleanup issue). I resign myself to the fact that I must either make my own breakfast (no) or go to one of the "yogi" cafes run by foreigners. I am not a fan. Expensive, not my taste, and a whole lot of gossip and over and over where are you from? How long will you be here? How many times have you been? Etc. All perfectly acceptable except that I just want my newspapers and idli vada in silence at home.
But fine. I go to this place called Santosha and find a little corner on the floor around a small coffee table and I order food that the owner swears up and down is vegan. It isn't. Not pleased.
We have special tickets to go to the center to see the festival up close and personal. It involves a lot of sitting in plastic chairs. We think at least 5 hours of this. When we arrive it is too late. It was actually supposed to be much longer. Arrive by 10:30 at the latest. At 2:30 things sort of start. In the interim you are just sitting there. From 2:30 to 5:30 or later there are elephants and processions and dancers and a whole lot of splendor but we see none of it. We arrive around 12:45 by rickshaw and it is just madness. People everywhere. Cars, buses, bikes, scooters, carts, vendors, everything everywhere all at once. It is impossible for us to get close enough to present our tickets and get to our assigned seats. We walk around and consider jumping a fence and more and more feel boxed in and drunk Indian men staring at us.
We find ourselves wedged between two buses with some sort of official attempting to negotiate with a police officer to get us to cross the parade itself so we can get to our seats. While this is happening we are smashed between the two buses, single file with more Indians wiggling their way between us. Somehow they made themselves fit. The smell of alcohol was strong and just people staring at us even more than we were staring at them. There were ten of us together and still I somehow managed to be robbed. I suddenly had the sense that I should look down and I see my purse open and I look in and my wallet is gone and I notice the drunk next to me is trying to worm his way out and I start yelling like a maniac and I scare him and I see my wallet drop into a pool of liquid (hopefully water). Everything is still in it and we decide to leave. We go to Pascucci for pizza and pasta and AC and watch the events on a big screen TV.
We get back to our neighborhood (Gokulum) and ride our scooters home. We usually park in front of the house on the little car park but our landlord has parked his car there even though he usually parks in the driveway and he specifically told us that we should park there. By this time I have decided I am just finished and when I go to park in the street I forget to put down the kickstand and I start to lean the scooter to rest on the nonexistent kickstand and when I realize I am leaning too much somewhere inside I surrender to India and say "OK, this is the part where we all lie down." My housemate is laughing and takes a picture and the moment is forever captured on facebook.
We agree to rest up. India will be waiting in the morning. I close my door and get ready for bed and hear "Alice! Alice! Outside my bedroom window. There is no hiding. India is everywhere.
So after I woke up for real I just wanted my usual which makes everything okay. My usual is a stack of English papers and breakfast to-go from the stand up place. Idli vada or set dosa "parcel-la".
They were closed.
So I went around the corner to the stand up sit down place. Also closed.
I look around and realize that for sure everything will be closed except for the vendors that have popped up suddenly selling banana leaves and other festival items (which are now abandoned everywhere and are causing a major cleanup issue). I resign myself to the fact that I must either make my own breakfast (no) or go to one of the "yogi" cafes run by foreigners. I am not a fan. Expensive, not my taste, and a whole lot of gossip and over and over where are you from? How long will you be here? How many times have you been? Etc. All perfectly acceptable except that I just want my newspapers and idli vada in silence at home.
But fine. I go to this place called Santosha and find a little corner on the floor around a small coffee table and I order food that the owner swears up and down is vegan. It isn't. Not pleased.
We have special tickets to go to the center to see the festival up close and personal. It involves a lot of sitting in plastic chairs. We think at least 5 hours of this. When we arrive it is too late. It was actually supposed to be much longer. Arrive by 10:30 at the latest. At 2:30 things sort of start. In the interim you are just sitting there. From 2:30 to 5:30 or later there are elephants and processions and dancers and a whole lot of splendor but we see none of it. We arrive around 12:45 by rickshaw and it is just madness. People everywhere. Cars, buses, bikes, scooters, carts, vendors, everything everywhere all at once. It is impossible for us to get close enough to present our tickets and get to our assigned seats. We walk around and consider jumping a fence and more and more feel boxed in and drunk Indian men staring at us.
We find ourselves wedged between two buses with some sort of official attempting to negotiate with a police officer to get us to cross the parade itself so we can get to our seats. While this is happening we are smashed between the two buses, single file with more Indians wiggling their way between us. Somehow they made themselves fit. The smell of alcohol was strong and just people staring at us even more than we were staring at them. There were ten of us together and still I somehow managed to be robbed. I suddenly had the sense that I should look down and I see my purse open and I look in and my wallet is gone and I notice the drunk next to me is trying to worm his way out and I start yelling like a maniac and I scare him and I see my wallet drop into a pool of liquid (hopefully water). Everything is still in it and we decide to leave. We go to Pascucci for pizza and pasta and AC and watch the events on a big screen TV.
We get back to our neighborhood (Gokulum) and ride our scooters home. We usually park in front of the house on the little car park but our landlord has parked his car there even though he usually parks in the driveway and he specifically told us that we should park there. By this time I have decided I am just finished and when I go to park in the street I forget to put down the kickstand and I start to lean the scooter to rest on the nonexistent kickstand and when I realize I am leaning too much somewhere inside I surrender to India and say "OK, this is the part where we all lie down." My housemate is laughing and takes a picture and the moment is forever captured on facebook.
We agree to rest up. India will be waiting in the morning. I close my door and get ready for bed and hear "Alice! Alice! Outside my bedroom window. There is no hiding. India is everywhere.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Monday
This is the first kind of "regular" day for me in a couple of weeks. I usually practice primary series on Fridays and intermediate series Sunday through Thursday with Fridays off. When you travel the energy gets crazy and so you take primary which is earthy and grounding. As comfortable as it is, it isn't my regularly scheduled programming and now that I'm back on intermediate I feel more like myself. (Or at least more like what I'm used to which I'm calling myself but as yoga philosophy will tell you the self was there all along like a necklace you forgot you were wearing.)
Class happens each day in "batches". The first batch starts at 4:30am shala time which is about 4:15am regular time which means waking up at 2:45am in order to be on time. When I walk downstairs in the darkness and start up my scooter, sometimes (like today) I remember to look up and the stars are always closer than I think they will be. There are very few street lights on and a few days ago a friend (who has lived in India for years) and I noticed for the first time that the street lights are turned on or off one at a time by a man who stops each morning and evening at each pole to flip the switch.
Starting a scooter first thing in the morning can be a bit tricky and sometimes you have to kick start it or get on and roll it down a hill and try to start it with the momentum. Turning the headlights on is not possible. So you just take it as it comes and sometimes roll down the hill in darkness, ready to dodge sleeping street dogs and cows and pedestrians although there are very few of any of those at Brahmamurti (God's hour). The air is thick and smells like nature more than anything else and everything has a layer of dew. You can hear the sound of footsteps really far away and the occasional neighbor spitting and the scooter but that is it. Not even the birds are awake yet. In that kind of light, riding to the shala for practice, it sometimes feels like a dream and I remind myself that I'm awake and this is really happening.
Class happens each day in "batches". The first batch starts at 4:30am shala time which is about 4:15am regular time which means waking up at 2:45am in order to be on time. When I walk downstairs in the darkness and start up my scooter, sometimes (like today) I remember to look up and the stars are always closer than I think they will be. There are very few street lights on and a few days ago a friend (who has lived in India for years) and I noticed for the first time that the street lights are turned on or off one at a time by a man who stops each morning and evening at each pole to flip the switch.
Starting a scooter first thing in the morning can be a bit tricky and sometimes you have to kick start it or get on and roll it down a hill and try to start it with the momentum. Turning the headlights on is not possible. So you just take it as it comes and sometimes roll down the hill in darkness, ready to dodge sleeping street dogs and cows and pedestrians although there are very few of any of those at Brahmamurti (God's hour). The air is thick and smells like nature more than anything else and everything has a layer of dew. You can hear the sound of footsteps really far away and the occasional neighbor spitting and the scooter but that is it. Not even the birds are awake yet. In that kind of light, riding to the shala for practice, it sometimes feels like a dream and I remind myself that I'm awake and this is really happening.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Happy Vijaydashami
When you get an Indian sim card you also get text message adverts and sometimes when you make calls they will play an advert first and sometimes they will call you and just play commercials. Usually I get "free STD offers" which has something to do with telephone services, but still. Today I received a text message encouraging me to wish all of my family and friends "a very happy Vijaydashami and spread the message of victory of Good over Evil." You see, it is a big holiday time right now and all the kids are home from school and the shops are stocked with festival items such as flowers and banana leaves. Tomorrow is the puja for the vehicles and so we'll buy strings of flowers and turmeric to decorate our scooters.
Tomorrow is also the first day of led intermediate which I'll be doing on one foot for the most part so as not to reopen the cut on my toe which is pretty hard not to do in every day life but I'm managing. In the afternoon we are possibly having "conference" which is a lecture with our teacher. It all depends on the celebrations tomorrow. If we have conference, then we also have Sanskrit class. And if it rains tomorrow then it means it will be a good year in Mysore. Everyone is hoping it will rain.
Tomorrow is also the first day of led intermediate which I'll be doing on one foot for the most part so as not to reopen the cut on my toe which is pretty hard not to do in every day life but I'm managing. In the afternoon we are possibly having "conference" which is a lecture with our teacher. It all depends on the celebrations tomorrow. If we have conference, then we also have Sanskrit class. And if it rains tomorrow then it means it will be a good year in Mysore. Everyone is hoping it will rain.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Just an ordinary day
This is the one where I electrocute myself just a little and cut myself kind of a lot and it starts with early morning asana practice. I had a couple of days off and the start times had been moved later one hour and now back to the original times. So I arrived at about 4:15am which is 4:30am "Shala Time". My teacher asked me if I would assist next month instead of this month so today I only did my own practice, had a coconut, and then headed back home to sleep for a couple of hours before breakfast. We went to a little place called Anoki's which is owned by some French people and at 300rs is steep compared to my 60rs maximum usual at the stand up or stand up sit down place. I had vegan crepes with spinach and hummus and vegan toast and a "massive" french press coffee which was too little too late but still quite welcome.
From there we went to Sudha's to pay my balance and drop off more items to ship. Yesterday she told us about the Rangoli at her house and how it is a family tradition and they never plan it, it just flows. "It is like a god" she says. And they do puja for them and ones like this have the padma, the lotus, and so they are for Lakshmi or kind of are Lakshmi because everything is god. Today no mention of how I've lost weight since last time, instead she told me that they like my kind of nose in India and that "it is called like the flower. Champa." I googled that. I don't see it but okay.
It is an auspicious time to buy gold and so we ask her where we should go and where we should put it and head out on a mission to the center. We buy new helmets that actually fit and stop at Shree Guru for a "Limited Thali, only" for lunch. I couldn't remember exactly how to get where we were going but we got there and parked where we could. We take about two steps on the sidewalk and I stub my toe. It doesn't hurt but something tells me to look down and I see just blood everywhere and there is more of it with every step and I sort of hop around for a second and these guys in a gold and bangle store pull up a stool and tell me to sit and they come out with that cotton you find in jewelery boxes and people are gathering around to watch the cotton turn red and my face which might have been laughing or swearing I can't remember which. One housemate runs to a pharmacy around the corner for supplies and the other stays with me. The shop clerk goes and returns with bottled water and motions for me to hop to the curb because there is a whole lot of blood in front of the shop and then he pours bottled water onto my toe in the street. An old man wearing a lunghi and button down shirt stops his scooter in the middle of traffic to watch and grin and wiggle his head at me a few times before carrying on.
My housemate comes back with peroxide and tape and I hop to the corner and there is a chai stand and a man brings over his chair for me. I sit and yelp as they clean my toe surrounded by a crowd of Indians sipping chai and selling ginger and shopping. We put a bit more jewelry cotton and tape it up and have lemon teas for caffeine and sugar and we ride our scooters back home and I'm shaking the whole time. Don't worry, my housemates are taking good care of me.
From there we went to Sudha's to pay my balance and drop off more items to ship. Yesterday she told us about the Rangoli at her house and how it is a family tradition and they never plan it, it just flows. "It is like a god" she says. And they do puja for them and ones like this have the padma, the lotus, and so they are for Lakshmi or kind of are Lakshmi because everything is god. Today no mention of how I've lost weight since last time, instead she told me that they like my kind of nose in India and that "it is called like the flower. Champa." I googled that. I don't see it but okay.
It is an auspicious time to buy gold and so we ask her where we should go and where we should put it and head out on a mission to the center. We buy new helmets that actually fit and stop at Shree Guru for a "Limited Thali, only" for lunch. I couldn't remember exactly how to get where we were going but we got there and parked where we could. We take about two steps on the sidewalk and I stub my toe. It doesn't hurt but something tells me to look down and I see just blood everywhere and there is more of it with every step and I sort of hop around for a second and these guys in a gold and bangle store pull up a stool and tell me to sit and they come out with that cotton you find in jewelery boxes and people are gathering around to watch the cotton turn red and my face which might have been laughing or swearing I can't remember which. One housemate runs to a pharmacy around the corner for supplies and the other stays with me. The shop clerk goes and returns with bottled water and motions for me to hop to the curb because there is a whole lot of blood in front of the shop and then he pours bottled water onto my toe in the street. An old man wearing a lunghi and button down shirt stops his scooter in the middle of traffic to watch and grin and wiggle his head at me a few times before carrying on.
My housemate comes back with peroxide and tape and I hop to the corner and there is a chai stand and a man brings over his chair for me. I sit and yelp as they clean my toe surrounded by a crowd of Indians sipping chai and selling ginger and shopping. We put a bit more jewelry cotton and tape it up and have lemon teas for caffeine and sugar and we ride our scooters back home and I'm shaking the whole time. Don't worry, my housemates are taking good care of me.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Three
This morning we went to the stand up sit down place around the corner from the stand up place by the temple on the main road. We had "big teas" with sugar, mine black, hers with milk. We had idli vada which is two steamed fermented rice and lentil batter (the same for dosas) patties a bit smaller than a biscuit. That's the idli part. The vada is the same batter shaped in a donut with other miscellaneous vegetables added (and coconut) and that's deep fried and delicious. We had them what I call "Indian style" which means you do like the locals do - the locals being about 20 or 30 Indian men because women cook for themselves don't they? Unless they work at the stand up sit down place because the entire staff is male. And unless they are us because we are fully prepared to let the men cook for us at the stand up sit down place.
So we have them Indian style which means that we take the sambar (a red vegetable soup that is spicy of course) and pour it over the idli vada. We add a little coconut chutney as needed - which is nothing like that jelly-like substance you get at North Indian restaurants and is also spicy - and with a spoon in each hand, eat. Two spooning it is what really seals the deal.
The teas come in metal cups nested in small metal bowls which appear to be saucers but they aren't. You're supposed to pour a bit of the tea into the bowl and drink that. "Bigger surface area" the waiter explained to my housemate the other day. It makes it drinkable. And so does serving it crazy hot because you have to have a death wish to drink the tap water.
Next came chanting class at the Shala followed by a short goodbye to my two students who are leaving. They had planned to stay a month. A week was enough.
To stay here we have to be willing to be okay with things. And it isn't just one thing here and there, it is everything all at once all the time. The jet lag, the culture, the food, the ATMs, the power outages, the third world, the finding housing, the everything. So we find small ways to cozy up like decent pizza, a good coffee, wifi, American movies, restaurants that don't make us sick, and nice people. You just can't look around too much because everything is just right there. Or you can, but you have to be willing to be okay with what you see which, again, will be everything. For better or for worse India is a karma accelerator.
So we have them Indian style which means that we take the sambar (a red vegetable soup that is spicy of course) and pour it over the idli vada. We add a little coconut chutney as needed - which is nothing like that jelly-like substance you get at North Indian restaurants and is also spicy - and with a spoon in each hand, eat. Two spooning it is what really seals the deal.
The teas come in metal cups nested in small metal bowls which appear to be saucers but they aren't. You're supposed to pour a bit of the tea into the bowl and drink that. "Bigger surface area" the waiter explained to my housemate the other day. It makes it drinkable. And so does serving it crazy hot because you have to have a death wish to drink the tap water.
Next came chanting class at the Shala followed by a short goodbye to my two students who are leaving. They had planned to stay a month. A week was enough.
To stay here we have to be willing to be okay with things. And it isn't just one thing here and there, it is everything all at once all the time. The jet lag, the culture, the food, the ATMs, the power outages, the third world, the finding housing, the everything. So we find small ways to cozy up like decent pizza, a good coffee, wifi, American movies, restaurants that don't make us sick, and nice people. You just can't look around too much because everything is just right there. Or you can, but you have to be willing to be okay with what you see which, again, will be everything. For better or for worse India is a karma accelerator.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Two
It was quiet - mostly- and I was brushing my teeth at the sink maybe with bottled water, maybe with tap water, I don't remember. Suddenly, the sound of running water. I look to the right and next to the toilet is a pipe with water pouring out into the drain where the bucket shower water flows. With the toothbrush in my mouth my eyes trace the pipe along the wall behind the toilet (western), it turns the corner under the window, and leads straight up to the wash basin where I am brushing my teeth. I put something here and it goes out there. The honesty of the situation is unsettling and I realize that this is a big thing about being here. We see everything.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Day One
I didn't just arrive but I am now just getting settled. It is around 3:30am and I'm drinking Indian instant coffee which is loaded with chicory. Not ideal, but it is something. The thing I forgot was how much work it is to get established in a new place in general and India in particular. And this isn't really tough India. Still, everything is just different.
Just being able to write and publish this post counts on many separate parts coming together at the exact moment I want to press "send", which of course, it often does not. The space between the points requires patience and when they keep missing each other and never appear to be able to match up is when people freak out in a big way and leave. I'm here with three of my students. Two are seriously considering going back home.
I arrived with the wrong power adapter. This means no charging my computer. This means no computer. Or it means using the reception's computer at the hotel we stayed at with the hotel manager reading over my shoulder. Finding a new adapter meant I needed transportation because we were staying at a hotel which wasn't very centrally located and I didn't have a scooter (now I do). So we had to hail a rickshaw and argue about using the meter and about how much they would charge and make sure we had small change to pay and think of a place to go to buy the charger and will they even be open because this is India and also Dasara Festival and also I haven't been since 2010 and things change. In the end my new housemate had an extra adapter. It took a few days for her to hear me through her own fog of jet lag and patchouli and culture shock.
So now I have a working computer and cellphone and wifi (occasionally) and time to write (since most basic needs are now in place) and already too many stories. My teacher says one month in Mysore is like a year anywhere else. He's talking about the practice but I can believe it to be about just being here. Even preparing my daily shower - bucket shower - is an epic event. I had my first class yesterday morning at 4:30am which actually means about 4:15am because the clocks are fast at the shala ("Shala Time"). I was "late" which means that the students were no longer waiting outside for the gates to open but class had not yet begun. I moved some mats over and claimed a little real estate up front on the stage. A bit weird at first knowing everyone is looking in your direction even if it isn't at you but once class begins it doesn't matter. There's just me and my teacher counting and my breathing and the sound of 80 some humans moving and breathing together. I just drop into it and at a certain point come up for air realizing that my mind is really quiet and I'm just in it. This is worth it and makes everything else OK. I love being here.
Just being able to write and publish this post counts on many separate parts coming together at the exact moment I want to press "send", which of course, it often does not. The space between the points requires patience and when they keep missing each other and never appear to be able to match up is when people freak out in a big way and leave. I'm here with three of my students. Two are seriously considering going back home.
I arrived with the wrong power adapter. This means no charging my computer. This means no computer. Or it means using the reception's computer at the hotel we stayed at with the hotel manager reading over my shoulder. Finding a new adapter meant I needed transportation because we were staying at a hotel which wasn't very centrally located and I didn't have a scooter (now I do). So we had to hail a rickshaw and argue about using the meter and about how much they would charge and make sure we had small change to pay and think of a place to go to buy the charger and will they even be open because this is India and also Dasara Festival and also I haven't been since 2010 and things change. In the end my new housemate had an extra adapter. It took a few days for her to hear me through her own fog of jet lag and patchouli and culture shock.
So now I have a working computer and cellphone and wifi (occasionally) and time to write (since most basic needs are now in place) and already too many stories. My teacher says one month in Mysore is like a year anywhere else. He's talking about the practice but I can believe it to be about just being here. Even preparing my daily shower - bucket shower - is an epic event. I had my first class yesterday morning at 4:30am which actually means about 4:15am because the clocks are fast at the shala ("Shala Time"). I was "late" which means that the students were no longer waiting outside for the gates to open but class had not yet begun. I moved some mats over and claimed a little real estate up front on the stage. A bit weird at first knowing everyone is looking in your direction even if it isn't at you but once class begins it doesn't matter. There's just me and my teacher counting and my breathing and the sound of 80 some humans moving and breathing together. I just drop into it and at a certain point come up for air realizing that my mind is really quiet and I'm just in it. This is worth it and makes everything else OK. I love being here.
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