Back at It: Hittin' the Hot Room

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Photo Via Lululemon Athletica's Flickrstream.

It's been almost a week since I've done my Bikram duty and I have to say I'm a little nervous to enter the Torture Chamber today.

How do you approach your practice after you've been on a short (or long) break?

Do you find it hard to take class without expectations?

Are you thirstier, more tired, and more distracted?

I have a sneaky suspicion that that's going to be me on the mat today. One of those days where you walk in and go Damn and doggedly set up your space.

Creaky, tight, sizzling. A hot mess for sure.

You resist all through pranayama, but slowly come to realize the heat's got you surrounded and it's going to win the uphill battle. And when you finally let go, the way it softens you actually starts to feel good.

Break me down, Bikram yoga; transform my body and mind.

Set me up for a limber, toxin-free rest of the week. Set me up for the best me there is: the yogi within!

The Teaching Matters: Thoughts on the McYoga Myth and Tasty Classes

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Bikram yoga is the tastiest, but every class has its own flavor.


Recently I had one of the most uplifting, empowering Bikram classes I’ve ever experienced. And it had nothing to do with me.

Well, nothing to do with my ability to execute 26 solid postures, anyway.

That’s right – the 90-minute meditation was inspiring, exhilarating and forgiving because the teacher teaching freaking rocked it.

You may have heard the phrase “McYoga” used to describe Bikram – which implies that because the dialogue drives the yoga so fully in each class, it makes the style predictable, able to be repeated, and therefore somewhat terrible. In the contexts I’ve read, “McYoga” seems to refer to the downsides of marketability, regularity and subsequent monotony.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a super-vegan McDonald’s protestor or anything, but I completely disagree with the suggestion inherent in this so-called “definition” of Bikram yoga that it sucks just because you can predict the order and techniques in class.
If you’ve actually done Bikram a number of times, you know: every class is totally different.

The teachers vary immensely in their style, strictness, and delivery tone with the dialogue. Some are more positive than others; some are more calming and soothing. Some hold postures a little longer. Some tell funny stories; some let the silence fill the room.

And teachers aren’t robots, either. In the same way that your body and mind feel different during every class you attend, a teacher also experiences variability in his or her mood, focus, and energy depending on the day and depending on the time of day of class. When you think about it, this is a good thing! It keeps us open-minded and open-hearted about approaching the yoga from wherever we are in the moment.
We don't have to struggle to transform the yoga to fit our needs; instead, we do our best to let the yoga work in us.

As my super-compassionate teacher always says, "Quit the Monkey Mind!" This means: give up your own resistance, your stronghold on controlling all of your thoughts and movements all the time. Let it go.

The other day as we began the first set of standing bow, my teacher said, "What if I told you I'd give you a million bucks not to fall out of this set? Would you set your mind to it? See, that changes the game...alright, let's go! Right hand to the right..."

She caught my attention with this statement. Oh, I realized. That's true: I could be a little more determined if I just found a way to let go of all the distractions, all of the no you can'ts going on in my head, all of that madness and drama that's supposed to be anywhere but inside these walls.

And then, in second set, she literally brought a smile to my face. As I stood motionless staring into my face in the mirror, desperately trying to slow my heart rate, finally escaping the Monkey Mind's blabber, she simply said:

"You are all worth more than a million bucks. Here we go: second set!"

So, my dear readers and yogis, make no mistake. Just like Starbucks (the epitome of corporate uniformity between stores) can blend your frappucino with the wrong mixture of ice and flavored syrup and leave you sucking oversweet sips or annoying chips through your green straw, Bikram teachers can stumble in the Torture Chamber. They can mispronounce words, forget postures, fall behind schedule.

But if you're anything like me, you've come to notice how more often than not, they nail it. They get it right, all 90 minutes long. The teachers kill it, and somehow motivate you to absolutely kill yourself for all of class and use 100% exertion all the way through.

And then both of you stroll out of the studio, all smiles, ready to enjoy your well-deserved 100% relaxation and newly-found confidence. Or -- what the heck -- a McFlurry every now and then! Some sorbet, at least? Hey, it's hot out this summer :)

Meet the Real-Life Dream Team: Sister

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Mom, the Big Z, and Auntie. (That's my sis on the left, yep! Beautiful, isn't she?)

She's my best friend. My biggest confidante. The person I turn to when I can't figure out why I'm feeling the way I am. The best new mom of 2009-2010. The most beautiful and loving lady I know. She gives more often than she gets. She's fun-loving, silly, smart, forgiving, and more photogenic than anyone I know.

She's my sister!

Correction: she's my TWIN sister!

She knows what I'm thinking before I think it. She loves me anyway. She's the best, hands down.

We've always been friends, but more lately than ever. And we DO experience that twin thing: where we call each other up because we already know something's wrong and we just want to know how to help make it better.

I'm posting about her here because she's the person I call up as soon as I get done with Bikram class and I've still got issues working out my emotions, self-criticisms, and doubts after I've spent 90 minutes working through them in front of the mirror. She totally understands where I'm coming from, and even if she doesn't, she's more accepting, loving and open than anyone else in the world I can think of.

Who in your life outside the hot room should you be consciously appreciating more?

It's easy to be thankful for those in your life that show up a couple times a week, or who you know vaguely, but what about your immediate family-- those whose flaws and weaknesses you are quite familiar with? When is the last time you actively thanked them for your relationship?

Here I am, sis. I miss you like crazy and I can't WAIT for a few weeks from now when we get to catch up in person. I love you with my whole heart and I can't wait to (someday) practice Bikram together! :)


Photo Via La Birdie Photography's Flickr Photostream.

Monday Night Blues? Try a Break, Baby!

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Relaxin' in the summertime is required. Photo via Pixelatedhologram's Flickrstream.

It's a Monday night in the middle of summertime: can you feel it?

The weekend went by too fast and work today felt like forever.

You're crankin' the AC but you can't seem to get enough of the cool air.

All you're dreaming of is a long night drive, a little time at the beach house, an afternoon picnic to break up the mid-day doldrums. Maybe you could use a romantic evening with your special someone, no distractions, no questions asked. Or weekend getaway in the mountains?

Yeah. I'm there.

Or, if you're like me, you're simply interested in getting out of the house to mix it up after dinner. And since you've skipped the usual evening yoga class, you find yourself at a local pub/cafe where there's lively live music, interesting-looking characters and relaxingly-dim lighting (dim enough that hopefully no one will notice that you're all by your lonesome tip-tap-typing away on a little netbook!).

Tonight's one of those nights when I'm taking advantage of 100% relaxation in order to inspire my 100% dedication (coming to a Bikram studio near you...tomorrow!). As much as we'd all like to pretend it's not true, even we Bikram crazies must admit that there comes a moment when we need to back off a little in order to re-formulate our love for the yoga.

I suppose it's like they say: too much of a good thing, and it's not worth anything.

It's just like the Bikram quote my lovely teacher mentioned the other day in class. As the Boss himself says, "I have the biggest swimming pool in Los Angeles. But I don't know how to swim."

The point is true here, too: even if you've got the best resources in the world, they'll do you no good if you don't know how to put them to good use. If you push too hard in a posture and compromise integrity so you can fake depth, you get nowhere. And even we obsessive back-to-back doublers know sometimes a little break -- a day or two away from the Torture Chamber -- can do some good for inspiring your practice and bringing it to soar to new heights.

The lovely Joanna over at Lock the Knee posted about this recently, after returning from her Sequoia camping trip and discovering that -- hey! -- balancing stick posture is way more fun if you're lookin' for some seriously heart-pounding cardio.

That's what I am talking about here: finding ways to appreciate with new compassion the postures which we generally take for granted, or simply tend to make our personal enemies during class.

Often a quick break will help us realize what we've been missing all along.

It's like the crazy, mandolin-rockin', bass-thumpin' band I'm listening to is singing:

It's the freakin' weekend, baby, I'm about to have me some fun!

Alright, so it's still Monday night -- but if you wanted, you could make the choice to take a break from your mid-week blues, maybe even take a one-night breather from the Bikram, or break out of your very genre (that's right, I'm witnessing a country band cover a ridiculous R&B song like it's their first and foremost style of expertise). Surprise yourself! Breathe a little! You never know: it could do wonders.


Some unexpected Monday-night mandolin in place of yoga class. Hells, yeah! Photo via MSync111's Flickrstream.

Are You Happy, or Are You Settling?

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Photo Via SwissMiss.

I've got a hunger / twisting my stomach into knots /that my tongue has tied off My brain's repeating,/ "If you've got an impulse, let it out," /but they never make it past my mouth.

- The Sound of Settling by Death Cab for Cutie

How many of us are out there working jobs where we hate our lives from nine to five, but prioritize paying the bills? How

many of us are out there participating in the cult of mediocrity?

How many of us are singing this song by Death Cab for Cutie -- "The Sound of Settling?"

Sure, there's a certain comfort from just sticking with what we know and simply making a living instead of making a life.

But wait: that means you're forgetting about having a life you love!

You're giving up your very happiness just so you can get by. And chances are, you can feel it every day.

Well dear yogi friends, I've been thinking about the costs of settling lately and the truth is this: I'm ready to give it up. Too many of us spend our whole lives ruminating about what we want to be "when we grow up." And then we never grow up (or grow the balls to actually go for what we've always wanted).

I know what I want: to teach Bikram!

This week, I've been reminded about 53 times why it would be incredible to devote my life to instructing. This list hardly scratches the surface, but it's so prevalent on my mind that I couldn't help sharing. Enjoy! Be inspired! Change your life! It's like my twin sister always reminds me -- what she says about having kids: "Honestly, there's never really a convenient time for it. But when you make the choice to bring new life into the world, it ends up transforming yours for the better, too." Well put, sis!

When -- notice: not if, but WHEN -- I finally make it out to the big tent to take my yoga bubble adventure, and when I return to live the dream and teach classes, these will be awesomely true:


1. I will love my life and love my job.
2. I will not sit in front of a computer all day.
3. I will get to yell at people: "You're not babies...you're warriors!"
4. I will sweat at work. On purpose.
5. I will get paid to encourage people to transform their bodies for the better, inside out, bones to skin.
6. I will get to live at the studio. Which means: more yoga!
7. I will be a part of a living, breathing, thriving network of some of the most wonderful, beautiful, hardworking, loving, energetic people out there.
8. I will walk around barefoot at work.
9. I will have a more flexible schedule so I can meet my family's needs and one day raise kids.
10. I will follow my dreams and achieve one of my biggest personal goals.



My Work Briefcase (Someday) via Kerrie Longo's Flickrstream.

A 12-Step Program for the Beginning Bikram Yogi: How and Why to Quit the Fidget

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Um, how exactly do you expect to hold this if you're twitching all over the place?


I hate to admit it, but the other day another girl really got to me during Bikram class.
We’ve never met, I don’t know her, and it’s probably wrong to form an opinion about this chick without even having spoken to her…but man, you should have been there. It was ugly:
She couldn’t get through three seconds of class – during postures and in between them – without fidgeting. She was wiping sweat. She was checking herself out in the reflection of the side-wall window. She was adjusting her hair. She was squeezing her belly paunch and making dissatisfied faces at her own reflection. She was making eye contact with her friend across the room.
In short, she was doing everything but the postures themselves.
And dudes, it was pissing me off. When it comes to dealing with difficult emotions, anger’s not my forte. I don’t enjoy building up a large dose of fury within myself. And when I do, I’m generally not sure how to handle it.
And goodness knows: the heat in the Bikram studio is enough to make my blood boil and turn my face red – I don’t know about you, but I don’t need another reason to swelter. Not to mention, the 90-minute meditation is supposed to be a soothing sort of practice.
Short and sweet: you should be still – frozen, motionless, absolutely static and silent – for a pretty big chunk of class. Whether you’re technically in savasana or simply resting in between sets of the standing series postures, you should be a living statue!
By literal definition, finding stillness is as important as utilizing integrity and depth in the postures themselves. Heck, it’s inherent to their very name – asana refers not just to the physical fulfillment of the position, but also finding calm within that configuration. You arrange the different components of the body in a specific way, but what’s more: you do so for the purpose of achieving balance, promoting physical health, and attaining mental relaxation. It’s like the name of “standing separate leg head to knee pose” – the phrase “head to knee” implies that you must make contact between the exactly forehead and the exactly knee in order to receive the medical benefit of the posture. Not the nose. Not the chin. The forehead. In this same way, every asana requires the reaching of stillness. It’s not an option!
Reasons to Quit the Fidget:
1. Find peace. Bottom line. Isn’t this a big reason you’re stepping foot into the Torture Chamber, anyway?
2. Stop annoying the hell out of the yogis around you.
3. Balance. What a concept, right? And you were wondering why you couldn’t hold standing bow…
4. Energy. You’ll actually have more to put toward the real Bikram, rather than your frenzied fiddles.
5. You won’t feel so sorry for yourself! One of my favorite moments in yoga is when, right in the middle of class, an instructor randomly blurts, “Great, now stop looking so sad! Next set…” They slide that quick little sentence in with the other instructions like it’s part of the dialogue, when in reality it should be. How many times have you looked around the hot room to see some pretty miserably contorted facial expressions? Or made them yourself?
6. When you feel sorry for yourself, you quit sooner. So when you stop feeling sorry for yourself because you’re so tired from wasting energy fidgeting and because you couldn’t balance if you life depended on it (see #3, #4 and #5) – then you’ll actually be able to stay in the pose until “change” rather than pooping out early.
7. Your body actually needs that sweat you keep wiping away. One of my favorite instructors brings this up often, calling people out when they stop to reach for their brows, or worse, down for their towels.
8. You’ll be able to breathe better.
9. You leave the drama at the door. You get a chance to get away from our insane, insanely fast-paced world instead of allowing the madness in the door.
10. You learn discipline. You learn. Discipline. You. Learn. Discipline!
11. You stick together as a class, and you benefit from the energy of those around you. Holy crap, I can’t stand when people move at their own pace. And granted, at first I found it difficult to stick with the instructor and the rest of the yogis around me, but once you learn what a blessing this can be, people who throw it off become extremely pesky!
12. Uh, it’s part of the DIALOGUE. And what’s rule #1 in Bikram? Obey the freaking DIALOGUE!
So what happened with Miss Drama, with her jitters and spasms, her ridiculous song and dance, her sad faces when she couldn’t hit any of the postures with Bengal tiger strength? As a matter of fact, turns out none of my fierce, defiant glaring in her direction helped a damn thing. She just kept on squirming around like a restless worm. And she reminded me of another reason it does you no good to get distracted from those around you in the yoga room:
It just takes away from your own practice.
But hey, there was one redeeming factor. Crazy girl inspired me to stay for a second class.
It just so happened that my first one sucked so bad and I was so all over the place that I just couldn’t resist sticking around for the 7:30pm. And that, my friends, was an adventure in and of itself. Stay tuned for the next post!

Double Down: The Night in Which I Become The Flower Petal Blooming

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It happened.

(Read: I did it I did it I did it!)

Last night, I completed my first back-to-back Bikram yoga double. Cue triumphant trance music and wild hands-in-the-air dancing! (Go on; you know you want to.)

I must say, it was pretty extreme… but also surprisingly doable. I made it through the first class no problem, focusing on it in my mind as an extended warm-up. My favorite teacher helped make the 90 minutes a chance to feel empowered, strong and totally resilient. She always does a lovely job of reminding all of us yogis that there’s “a great group energy in the room” and she pumps us up and pushes us hard all the way until we’ve twisted our spines like pearl necklaces, and blown out every birthday candle that’s 60 feet in front of us.

Anyway, as I lay in final savasana and joyfully relaxed every muscle and listened to the instructor announce, “You did it! You made it. Now let it go,” I quickly thought to myself Not so fast! Only halfway there. And you got this.

And as it turns out, I did. After a quick freshening up – a costume change, downing a VitaCoco and protein-charged granola bar, refilling the water bottle, grabbing a soft and clean towel, and sending a “one down, one to go! I feel great” text to the beau – I was back on the mat, ready to go.

It was awesome: as I stood there on my mat, re-engaging in my usual pre-Bikram warm-up, I could feel this bright, pure sense of relaxation wash over me. The heat of the room felt so comforting, like being wrapped up in a cozy blanket and fuzzy slippers in front of a fireplace and watching the snow fall outside, the whole earth held in a supple, perfect hush.

Here I was in class #2, my body in a perfect calm. No nerves. No pre-class fear or anticipation. No stress.

No nothing, just me and the mirror. All of a sudden I am nowhere except right here:

It was the best feeling in the hot room I’ve ever experienced. And then it got better.

So another of my favorite teachers comes striding in to start class (Special bonus: two teachers in one night! Usually they’ll teach back-to-back classes, but I lucked out and got a mix. Yoga gods on my side for sure!).

“So this is Bikram’s beginning yoga class. Hands and feet at the center of your mats and towels. Stay in the room for 90 minutes…”

Here I am, standing at the center of the universe, and I’m not even hearing these words. I just am them.

Ah, thiiiis is that increased focus I’ve been reading out, I realize as we launch into pranayama.

And my body’s not the same, either: the lungs move open and close like deep, soft, elastic balloons. The belly swells and falls with the lightness of a butterfly’s wings touching. There is no usual tension or stiffness, no cumbersome battle to overcome the breath, only a body that floats – simple, wholesome, like velvety steam rising from water.

The spine is brand new.

I descend into half moon like it’s a deep, cool body of water. Each fiber and system is blurred beneath the hazy surface. I drift and flow. I am my own breath. Padahastasana comes and goes like a quiet wave.

“Alright, time for the first back bend. Don’t be scared, drop your head back, let it go, let it hang, look for the wall behind you…”

Generally at this point in the practice I am resisting the dialogue, holding something back. I am busy thinking about the outside world or shaking off the sweat. I am elsewhere.

Not here, not today. In this second class of wonder and delight, I am in the backbend.

I have let go of my resistance and this allows the posture to take hold of me. The lower half of my back becomes a flower petal blooming.

I am the flower petal blooming!

And I descend down farther toward the floor than I ever have – my dive smooth and effortless, like I’ve always been meant to be here. I can feel my spine lengthening, stretching wonder of wonders, and I see my mat coming into focus before my eyes.

I feel so good. I am on top of the world. I am a Bikram warrior, one step closer to my dreams of extreme flexibility held within pure relaxation.

The rest of class flies by as I rock standing series, chill through the floor sequence, and finish out strong. It’s all downhill after that initial backbend, although all along the way I keep wondering if there will be any other significant breakthroughs. The rest of the meditation is pretty standard as far as form goes, but my concentration and motivation are off the charts!

I walk out of the studio feeling pretty proud of myself and actually shiver a little bit at the icy blast of air conditioning. After all that time in the heat, I was beginning to enjoy the cozy atmosphere. And as weird as it sounds, when I finished the second class I actually experienced a sensation along the lines of: I could keep doing this yoga all night long and it would feel great! How true that is, no one actually knows (I mean, I was also pooped and perfectly ready to head home for a shower and bite to eat!), but it was a pretty inspiring moment.

Oh, and perhaps the most inspiring moment followed soon after:

I pack up and start to stroll out the studio door, basking in my toxin-free yoga glow, little shy grins eeking out the corners of my mouth. And expert yogi teacher of class #2 who got me through the beautiful hot mess that was my double turns to me with a big, fat smile, two thumbs up, and loudly proclaims:

“That was hard-core! Two classes back to back, nice. You’re lookin’ good in there!”

My eyebrows go up in surprise, my cheeks flush, and I make small talk as a feeling of satisfaction fills my belly. I mutter joyfully about the backbend release, tripping over my words a bit as I try to concentrate on anything but the fact that one of the most bad-ass yoga teachers at my studio just called me hard-core.

He wishes me a restful night, and I buzz my way out into the night air, little hop-skips entering my steps.

I’m beaming.

The Art of Double Vision: Get Your Back-to-Back Bikram Groove On

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Photo Via Milopeng's Flickr Photostream.
Welp, I think it's finally that time and I'm going to be trying a double tonight! I'm feeling pumped, am pretty sure my favorite teacher will be instructing, and have been looking forward to this moment for a while now.

Some thoughts... and I'd love your feedback/ advice if you've experienced the art of completing back-to-back classes!


Double Trouble

  • I hear class #2 involves intense focus and sometimes even euphoric feelings. It can, of course, also be tiring as heck, but I'm hoping I'll find my yoga zone tonight.
  • More class time = more sweat. Some say there's no warm-up time when you walk in the hot room for the second go-round. You just pour out every pore. Puddle time, here I come!
  • Increased flexibility shows up when you're working with 90 minutes of warmed-up muscles! Will I be able to push to a new edge in any postures? Hope so.
  • Timing is everything: It's hard to fit in 3+ hours of yoga in a day, even on the weekends! (But I have a serious feeling that it will be oh-so-worth it!) I couldn't be more excited to have finally found a time that works. And I'm curious to see how my hydration/sustenance schedule links up with my classes... hopefully I've got enough liquids and energy in my system to make it through! I'm definitely bringing snacks (an Odwalla bar and a yogurt) and refreshing in between with coconut water though, so no worries there.
  • I'm hoping the intense sweat/toxin dump will also include the chance to dump out all my unnecessary built-up emotions and stresses. For some lovely, self-indulgent whining on this topic, see post below.
  • By taking on a double, I feel like I'm one tiny step closer toward reaching readiness for Bikram teacher training. Sometimes when I think about it, three months on my own in the yoga bubble forcing my body to extreme measures feels like such an impossibility. How will I pay for it? And the real question: will I survive the Torture Chamber with Mr. Bikram himself? All that wondering aside, there are other times (like right now, as I eagerly await class with a butterfly-filled stomach and readiness to fly out the door from work) where I'm just SO DANG hopeful and curious and wholeheartedly excited about even the thought of being in the big tent with 300 over Bikram geeks.
Throw your hands up! Dance around a little! I'm joining the Doublers Club tonight! :) (Well, hopefully! Check back tomorrow for an update.)

Drift Away with a New Sleepy Tuesday Afternoon Bikram Poem

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this one's about the experience of floating into deep, deep space during the break between the standing and floor series...

Filament

arms arch upward fingers interlace
of course
I’m stretching of course it’s early morning
summer here upon us
arriving
curved upward haze behind a building
announces
the day coming. of course
I haven’t got my mind yet
haven’t quite found where it’s hiding.
this is supposed to be a day,
a beautiful life,
a wild and precious life,
a centered, kept, contained
moment held.
I’m floating elsewhere
away for now, back in five minutes
that little hand-drawn sign swinging from a string
pastel and ink, dream-like messaging inescapable
if not caught and held, perhaps gone to the wind’s
carefree moving mind-path: the breeze.
surely a life is not a day,
a day is not a moment of course
it can all boil down to just the one
split second,
one big break,
one forgetting,
slip,
breath,
one long fall toward failure.
Enter the room.
Set down your old mat,
bones, songs, fidgets, fears,
expectations, set your old life down
and unravel your very life-threads, your five minute signs, strings,
etched maps for knowing where you are.
Unroll your mind you can’t even find
and be somewhere: only here
is where you are
a corpse, body breathing in place
a two-minute savasana
floating filament thoughts out
the twisting of an untied cord,
rivets disentangling, notion-rope come undone
working loose our own bodies,
lives, days, pulling out the stitches
so that we are in fact of course
nowhere at all.

Yogi Characters Continued

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PhotoVia SunSinger's Flickr Photostream.


A little while ago, I featured a post on some inspiring local yogis at my home studio, and our need for compassion in the hot room. Here are a few more characters I've come across, followed by a few who I'm keeping my eye out for.


Locals I Love:
  • Yoga Mom Extraordinaire: you've got sweet tats, a solid practice, and super-cool mom skills for bringing your daughter to Bikram before she's even old enough to be allowed in for the standing series.
  • Slick Italian Gentleman: I'm pretty sure you're a dancer in real life, what with that slicked-back hair, graceful form, and seriously-athletic focus. Your headband and strong-looking hands make me think of only the word "Om" filling up the room.
  • Fire Engine Man: your body looks like a brick and you've got to be at least 40, and yet you keep coming back for more heat and humidity. I like to imagine you're the captain of a local firestation and your Bikram practice is just another way to get used to being surrounded by fire.
  • Miss Firecracker (aka my favorite teacher): your spunk, liveliness and kick-ass dialogue rock my world. With your leadership and encouraging spirit, class always seems to fly by and I feel stronger and more empowered than ever. Who knew such vigor could come in such a small package?
Are You Out There?

  • Pregnant Moms Who Still Practice: If I ever encounter you, I will immediately offer you an extremely enthusiastic high-five and begin asking you a bunch of questions of how you survive the hot room.
  • Yogis Wearing Leopard-Print Anything: Straight-up Bikram style! I have yet to earn these stripes.
  • Scorpion-Doers: Seriously, how do people pull that pose off?! I've never actually seen it in person, so I'm pretty sure I will oogle and drool over whoever I first discover chilling out as a poisonous desert bug.
  • The Emotion-Weary Yogi: OK, so this may sound a bit strange but lately I've been hearing and reading so much about yogis who suddenly start all-out sobbing in the middle of Bikram class. I am completely intrigued and curious about this phenomenon. And not that it's not an emotional experience every time we practice, but it might be sort of interesting to experience the teary meltdown in the middle of class...just to see what it would bring up, and be able to say you survived it. Plus I generally tend to have have salt water in my eyes, anyway, from all the sweat drips...What do you think? Have you ever survived the yoga-mat tearfest?
Photo Via SpectreMan's Flickr PhotoStream.

Focus Forward Friday

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Focus Forward Friday:
A weekly ritual for deepening your Bikram practice.
Today's focus: how can you get rid of those fidgets, loud exhales, and other unnecessary wiggles during class? Stick with your instructor's dialogue -- don't rush ahead or fall behind. As my studio likes to say, No Speedy Gonzalez!

State of the Bikram Blog Industry: A Speech for Those With Bengal Tiger Strength

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Yeah, that's Rosie the Riveter on my blog. She's got bulging biceps like you, yogis!

After receiving a comment from the lovely Kirsten at A Bikram Journey yesterday, I’ve been thinking more about the Bikram blogging community that’s out there.

She eagerly exclaimed how excited she was about discovering another Bikram blog when she encountered Alive in the Fire, and how she experienced the feeling of being “giddy like a schoolgirl” upon reading my latest yoga poem.

I’m the same way: when I come across those Bikram blog gems which combine great writing, honest reflections on a dedicated practice, and pretty, pretty pictures (my favorite!), I just about squeal with delight.

Sometimes I let out a loopy “eeeeep!” Yep, laugh as you will, but that’s what I say to my computer screen. Or sometimes, I’ll eek out a “yesssss!” as I begin scrolling wildly down the page, trying to decide whether or not to click “Follow.”

First I read other blogs. Then I click ‘Follow,’ post comments on their blogs, invite them to read my blog, and go back to mine to post. I write on my blog, eventually run out of things to say, and then go hunting for new Bikram blogs via friends of other bloggers. The sequence repeats, and the circle grows!

Read. Comment. Post. Comment on post. Comment on comment on post. Click follow. Comment to invite to follow. Post. Find new blogger. Read. Comment. Click follow… Cue laughter.

All dizziness and reverberation aside, though, I do have some thoughts to share on the State of the Bikram Blog Industry. (Consider this my summer term address speech, OK?) And fellow yogi writers, I’d love to hear your reactions to this post – I am ruminating about your practices, after all! Please comment with your reflections, ideas, and inspirations. Keep the cycle going!

State of the Bikram Blog Industry: Observation #1:
Too Many Posts Underwhelm

No offense to those of you out there who use your Bikram blog as a personal practice diary, but sometimes I get a little tired of reading those posts who could be summarized as, “It was hot, but I survived. Yay, yoga.” Repeat times four for the week and you’re looking at a sad majority of what’s out there floating around on the interwebs.

Normally, typical posts fall into these categories:
  • Holy Crap I Just Sweat So Much
  • I’m Half-Way Through the 30/60/101 Day Challenge, and It Hurts
  • My Next Door Neighbor Yogi is Hot (and Inspires Me, Too)
  • Teacher Training is Changing My Life and Here’s Why I Love it/Hate It Today
  • Yoga Is Spiritual: Did You Know?
Alright, a caveat, and a big, fat one at that: I’ve certainly written about some of these topics, and I’m not trying to say that there’s not an interesting way to do so. (Hopefully my posts about local yogis and dreams for completing TT someday were somewhat engaging to read!) I’m also not trying to discount the experiences of beginners getting used to the heat, or the benefits of using a blog as a support network (for encouraging people during challenges, during hard times, or during injuries). And finally, I absolutely don’t want to write off those Bikram sufferings, er, understandings we share collectively.

In fact, that’s actually what I’m hoping this post will address: the fact that there’s a way to write about the Bikram stuff we all share – the heat, the sweat, the joy of gaining strength and flexibility in a pose you hate, the bizarre characters you meet in the hot room, Bikram’s outlandish humor and wisdom, and, YES, the first time you realize why wind removing pose has the name it does. You know: you’ve been there!

But come on, yogi writers! I know you can write effectively about these moments – and capture both their everyday tedium and the way they sometimes jump right out and change your life. I’ve seen it:
Photo Via FroschFresser's Flickr Photostream.

State of the Bikram Blog Industry: Observation #2:
Some of You Are Damn Flexible, And Damn Great Writers, Too

Examples that just scratch the surface:

The practical, useful prose which Seattle-based Jenn uses to describe budgeting for teacher training.
Hannah Just Breathe’s poetic way of describing how fearlessness and determination, even on the days when “the whole world seems to boil up and over,” bring us through to the peace of Bikram.

TheDancingJ’s recollection of TT, week five: complete with Bikram-isms (“I smell so good!”), honest confessions (“I actually fell asleep, had a DREAM, and woke up during the 2-minute savasana…”), and descriptions of the breakthroughs (“Sometimes I just sit there with a big stupid grin on my face and I can’t believe how GOOD we are getting at this dialogue stuff!”).

OhMyBikram’s fantastic, thorough and seriously helpful posture clinic posts.

Now there are some bloggers who know how to tell a story, dig deeper into the emotional insights their yoga has to offer, and entertain an audience, too!

I encourage you to (before you angrily comment on this post about its flaws and shortcomings, and before you sit down to type up your own post entitled “State of the Bikram Blog Industry Observations") simply to click the links above and see if you can see why there are some reasons to just be downright thrilled about the state of our little hot-room blogini universe! We’ve got some talented writers, observers, teachers, students, and philosophers out there who bring as much passion to the page as they do to the yoga mat.

But let’s not forget: just as we shouldn’t half-ass anything in our Bikram practice (as my teacher last night happily announced), we also shouldn’t approach our blogging routine with humdrum, nonsensical, or just plain useless chatter. Goodness knows, there’s enough blather and monotony out there as it is!

Let’s continue to make the Bikram blog world as astonishing, burly, and evocative as our ridiculously expressive yoga; that is, let’s be warriors of both eloquence and strength, of both integrity and depth.

State of the Bikram Blog Industry: Observation #3:
We Can Do Better. Oh Yes: We Can Do It!

Here is my challenge to you for some posts I’d love to read about and some new trends I’d like to see (you know you want to be next in the “clicking follow immediately!” routine):
  • Have a focused, airtight, and significant purpose behind why you write. Are you hoping to figure out how yoga brings out your inner beauty? How it changes your physical makeup and transforms your body? Or perhaps how it helps you develop relationships and reach your goals? These are much more vivid, enlightening and relevant topics than, say, your detailed notes on how many inches you progressed in fixed firm. Not that we as other yogis aren’t interested in reading about how your capability in specific poses has advanced, reached a plateau, or reversed backward…but dude, who cares if on Monday your pinky toes hurt “a little bit” and by Tuesday they “ached majorly” and now they’re “sort of sore after class”? Honestly, save those minor details and start sharing your reflections on them. Teach us something new!
  • Post regularly! This is key. Let me say it again: KEEP UP ON YOUR BLOG. Post regularly! There’s nothing more frustrating than coming across a great blog with diverse, engaging content…from three years ago. And really, what does it say about your dedication as a yogi if you can’t apply that same regularity and perseverance to something outside the hot room that’s also going to sustain you and help you grow?
  • Speaking of the real world, please DO connect your yogic thoughts to your personal life, emotional ups and downs, travel, work and career, relationships, artistic endeavors, and dreams and goals. Use your blog as a space to DO MORE than just comment on Bikram’s leopard-print shorts and your love of 747s taking off…
  • …But please, think twice about how far you expand your blog’s horizons. It’s really quite fun to find a writer who lets his or her personality and sense of humor enter into the picture, but it’s entirely wearisome to discover that their posts range from Bikram to bathroom remodeling to their recent grocery store purchases. OK, so maybe your blog’s about your life in general and not just yoga, but at least market it that way.
  • Where are my yoga men in the blog space? Since I started Bikram, I’ve been seriously impressed by the number of guys practicing in the hot room (and sometimes in short shorts, eeps!) and stretching as far as other experienced yoginis. And gentlemen, some of you look like tanks, er, firemen! I mean, you see some straight-up brawny, beefy guys sweating it out in there, not just slender, lean-framed guys who seem built for the practice. Anyway: body shapes and dimensions aside, we need more of you to write about your Bikram! Ladies, invite those husbands, boyfriends and guy friends to share a post or two. Tell us what it’s like teaching the most beastly form of yoga out there. Describe what thoughts are running through your heads as you move with Bengal tiger strength!
Alright, this post has gone on long enough. But hey, I’m a yogi, not a political speech writer, after all.
Photo Via Bikram Yoga Richardson.

Afternoon Thunderstorms and The Untouchables

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Photo Via SunSinger's Flickr Photostream.

Last night was a beautiful practice. My body needed the heat, so I hustled over to the studio after work and got there just in time to secure a spot in the second row, set up camp in the humidity, and proceed with some pre-class backbends, hip-joint cracks, and slow neck rolls.

It never ceases to amuse me how we all have different warm-up routines at Bikram. Some of us stretch out like we’re about to run a race, strongly pulling our muscles and staring at the mirror with stern, serious looks on our faces. Some of us settle into a relaxing child’s pose, or simply sit cross-legged with our eyes closed, connecting with our breath and body. Often beginners or newbies can be found glancing around the room, trying to get a sense of what to do and why people aren’t running out of the room.
And then of course, the rest of the room usually unwinds in savasana with their heels together, toes open, palms up like champions of the hot nap.

So there we all are, a mixed bag of yogis sprawled out and sweating, calmed in the heat, preparing for the next ninety minutes. We are the beginning.

Meanwhile, outside, cue torrential downpour! Through the little windows I can see a monsoon of rain, the sweep of forceful winds, and a darkened, charcoal-colored sky. The thunder booms.

The teacher enters the room. “Stand up, please! Alright, this is Bikram. Stay in the room. Hands and feet together at the gray line in the middle of your mat…”

Outside, flashes of lightning flicker and the resounding thunder roars again.

Yes, yes, yes! I’m thinking. I love thunderstorms. And I love yoga. And I love meditations where I can be wrapped up in the moment, safe in my hot room space, concentrating on nothing but my body moving and finding a way to fully occupy stillness.

There’s nothing better than a summer afternoon thunderstorm, and the way the rumbles and bellows rise and grow and explode in the distance like faraway cannons. Like God’s own fireworks.

With every pose, the storm wore on but it could not touch us in our shelter of the hot room, our refuge, our calm harbor.

Outside, the world was ending and the sky was crashing down and the wind was whipping around the streets and sidewalks… but inside the heat was on and we were safe, our Bikram bodies holding us up like warrior statues, the yoga making changes in us.

Outside the world was ending, but inside the hot room we moved as one and could not be touched.

A couple hours after class, the sky erupted in a beautiful expansive rainbow and I stared at it off the porch, so grateful for my practice and such a stunning reminder of the wonder of stillness. This was the end: the calm after the storm.

Thanks to photographers over at The Chicago Tribune for capturing THE exact rainbow I saw yesterday after yoga!

Notes on Feeling a Little LOST in My Practice

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This week it's back to the grind, and I find I'm having a little trouble getting back into my Bikram groove. It's weird: all weekend I was aching to get my butt to the studio, and now that I'm free of evening obligations, all I feel like doing is curling up on the couch for a nap or an episode of LOST.

What's up? Has the yoga truck finally smacked me down? Or, to stick with the silly analogy, maybe I've been run over by a shockingly blue Dharma Initiative bus?

Alright, so it's a stretch...but seriously: how cool are these posters? Pretty sweet.

Anyway, the Bikram, well. See, there goes my scatter brain skittering around, just like it's been doing at work. Skipping beats, veering off course, trying to stay out of the nap zone. Sigh.

But again: the Bikram! Have you ever had the experience of falling off the wagon? Truly discovering that each day of this yoga varies, and even though you think you've got it down, you may end up sliding backward before you break through a fear, obstacle, or just wave of exhaustion? Me. Too. How did you get back on track?

A Bikram Poem

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The Good Morning Arriving


face
in the value of
the mirror

I feel like a bag of bricks
I feel like a million bucks
I feel like a breeze spreading across a pool of water

pretty invincible
even in this heat
mirror-made self being witnessed

I just don’t feel very capable
I feel a bit lightheaded
In fact, I feel like I could fall asleep right on the floor…

looking toward me
what I am
reflecting back

around in repetition:
bodies breaking limitations
pushing toward a better practice

I feel beautiful in a way
I feel a little less crazy
I feel this stillness blossoming in the room

the way the heat holds
between the rows
a collectivity, moisture of the mind combining

I just feel this overwhelm of energy
I feel a peace in this strange pocket of time
I feel a sense of gratitude ballooning up inside my chest

Everyone is nowhere
Have we all forgotten?
No one can get in the way of what we’re feeling
with the mirror there, with our eyes
all beauty and truth caught
connecting up in the practice of the body

I feel ready
I feel empowered
I feel a part of the system which moves the body I belong to

I have been here before
and I know the way
through the fire
the lonely ice the way of breaking
the body down into its base
falling it out of its formulaic habits, absentminded imperfection eluded

I feel superstitious but
I feel myself trusting the process if I can let myself
feel my body fighting its own way, marking its own entropy over the mat

I can go there, where

all the yogis are pretending to be yogis
as we simply human people exhale toxin-breath
and replenish our lives with compassion, elasticity, duty
to leave what we don’t need, hallucinatory reconciliation
and elaboration on all the reasons we’re tired
our bodies no longer on the list

I feel like a pilot performing a long-distance raid
I feel like a mountain climber conquering El Capitan
I feel like this is all there is,

will be,
intricate,
delicate

our bones reshaping
our lives we take
back to the mat
sweat falling like rain
and the sun rising out the window of this studio
I feel the good morning arriving...

What Graduation Really Teaches You: You Need the Bikram

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Photo Via A. Yakovlev's Flickr Photostream,

What a weekend! Caps and gowns, dinner reservations, visiting family, traffic, crowds, diplomas, convocation speakers, thunderstorms, tours of the town, late nights, early mornings and more. Who knew hosting graduation could be so hectic!


Pretty quickly I realized: I’ve fallen into a valuable routine with my Bikram yoga and when I go more than a day without it, man,


I’m cranky,


I’m tight,


and sometimes it hurts, but I need this yoga!

Word to the wise: if you’re balancing a busy weekend of juggling time with family, celebrating, hosting and entertaining your guests, and making convocation on time, find a way to fit the Bikram in, too…or you will go crazy.


Photo Via Captain Skyhawk's Flickr Photostream.

Om, Baby!

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Photos Via Jill Hudgins Flickr Photostream.

A quick list for the middle of the week...


Top 10 Reasons I Love My Bikram Right Now:

  1. It gets rid of workday boredom.
  2. Cracks the back.
  3. No more toxins!
  4. Keeps me up on my hydration, and VitaCoco after class is sooo refreshing.
  5. The teachers freakin' rock!
  6. The class flows as you work together and move as one.
  7. Breathe, stretch, shake, let it go! I feel loose and light after class.
  8. I know I'm changing my body for the better from the inside out.
  9. I get inspired by the crazy yogis and local characters that surround me.
  10. I can relax, and let the heat take me in.
What do you love most about your yoga practice right now?

Where Does Yoga Take You?

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Photo Via Veronikaa's Flickrstream.

When you lay your head back in that final savasana, where do you drift away?
Are you floating in the sea somewhere by yourself?
Dancing in a field in your underwear?
Strutting down the red carpet?
Taking in the view from atop a mountain?
Cuddling with your newborn kid?
Racing a motorcycle around a curve?

Wherever you are, you are.


Photo Via Nikki.Jane's Flickrstream.