Cruise Control Meditation

I was driving home from Boston to Cold Spring early Sunday morning and decided that rather than speed (which maybe, just maybe I have a tendency to do.  I'm a vata.  I can't help it.) I would use the oft neglected cruise control.  So I set it for 55 (which really means 75) and cruised from the Mass Pike to  Rte 84 as the sun rose.  I very quickly realized that cruise control was a complete meditation on staying centered.  Immediately, I could feel the need for speed as people rushed by me.  And a bit of anxiety if I was moving faster than the group of cars I approached.  How exactly do we stay solid on our own path when everything else is moving by at different speeds? how hard is it to be constant on an ever changing highway?  It's really hard.

More Circles...

At the Anusara Grand Circle at Wanderlust, John talked about how simple the sacred circle can be in terms of what you invite into your sacred space and what you leave outside, with loving spaciousness.  And it truly was that simple for me.  (read my last blog?  See? Simple.)  These initial teachings from John have impacted me with their grace and simplicity.  And as all things of Grace do, this has been  unfolding into a grand contemplation of how the idea of the sacred circle fits into my life.  When I looked back on my notes, I realized that he also talked about the bindu, the most minute, focused center point deep within the heart.  So I guess if the center of my world, the center of the circle, is in my heart, is must be a point of love.  Stands to reason then that anything within my circle is within the realm of love. 

So how can I overlay the Universal Principles of  Alignment onto that?  How can I take a simple but powerful concept and make it real in my life and meditations?  The way I took it in, Open to Grace, is my system of remembrance of the bindu.  It's a fierce, embracing remembrance of love.  Then, I use muscular energy as a technology to strengthen the heart and its circle. I have to get strong so that I can hold more love, and also be strong enough to hold that which is outside my circle on the other side.  Organic energy is the she-who-will-not-be-denied will of the heart to grow and expand.  When I grow, my boundaries grow, and as they reach, in love, so far from me, I realize that everything is encompassed in love.  And eventually, the boundaries themselves dissolve and I see and feel only love.

I'm not strong enough to hold it all the time, but I've gotten beautiful glimpses of the hrdyam, the truest of hearts, and it hasn't failed yet to rip my heart open like Hanuman and bring me to tears of joy.  I can use the practice in meditation and asana to stay fully commited to the path of love.  Now that's some serious magic.

What's in your circle?

I hardly know where to begin.  I'm just back from the Anusara Grand Circle in Vermont. And as promised, my batteries are recharged for the next cycle.  I feel replenished and invigorated.  Not only by the masterful teachings of John Friend, Hareesh Wallis, Bill Mahoney, Elena Brower and the many talented teachers at the gathering, but also by the friends I reunited with, the beautiful mountains, and not least, the incredible Solstice.  Over the upcoming weeks and months, my little black book of insights will make the rounds as the basis of all that I offer in my teaching.  The beauty of taking such deeply insightful classes, for me, is that I get to offer them back out, and in turn, absorb them once again and more deeply.

If I were to try to fully unfold all that I was offered, it would be a complete mess, much like the dumping out of my suitcase all over my bed.  So it will have to eke it's way out over the next few months.  Don't miss class; there are some incredible gems in there.  Yet,  I can tell you're already itching for a little something—

The biggest gift I walked away from this week with, was an image of a circle.  One that surrounds, enlivens and protects you.  This is truly a sacred circle.  Traditions for eons have been using the circle as a sacred delineation of what is inside and closest to our hearts.  And also, by definition of the circle as a boundary, a delineation of things we choose to keep farther away. 

Through the ever refining practice of yoga (in all it's forms) we skillfully choose what we wish to put in our circles.  This is a very powerful image and unbelievably tactile and useful to me.  If I envision every choice, every interaction, every internal conversation as something that's either in or out, then I can be clear about my actions and the energies I surround myself with. Do I really want thoughts of being "less" in my circle?  Do I want to clutter up my space with negativity and pessimism?  Is that what I want to be supported by?  John was very clear with his wishes for us.  He told us that when we see our own "cloakings", we should just drop it.  Just like that.  If it's not in my circle by my own choice, I'm dropping it.  Sounds deceptively simple.  And that might just be the beauty of it.  Why do our life choices have to be so complicated? The situations themselves might be complex, but within the sacred circle of our hearts, it's quite simple.  Does this choice, decision, cigarette, person, serve my growth and expansion?  That's not often a hard choice. 

I have so much more for you all, and in time, it will be revealed (to me as much as to you!) but for now, I invited you to draw your own heart's circle and under the bright light of this week's full sun, figure out exactly what you want in there, and with gratitude, treasure the circle you've built in the form of your own life. 

The Rising Of The Light

One of the loveliest sanskrit words I know (and there are not many) is Purnatva.  It means fullness.  But not just fullness in terms that the glass is full of water. It's a fullness of the heart.  One that allows us to feel contented, blissful and operating at our highest.  Doesn't that sound like a place you'd like to live?  

As we approach solstice here in the awe inspiring Hudson Valley, a truly magical place to live, the rising of the sun is met by the rising of the mountains.  This Tuesday will be the brightest, longest, fullest day of the year and there is magic in that. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rfs4WzFwb-4 The veils between you and the Divine are thinned, and you can place your "bets" for the upcoming season.  Ooh, I got me some big plans.  As we approach the day of purnatva, this is a magic auspicious time to reach for our own highest, fullest potentials.  It's time to ask for the very sun and then devote our hearts to it.  So, I ask you: What are you capable of?  What is your highest aspiration and potential?  Now is not the time to hide in the shadows, because come Tuesday, there won't be any shadows in the corridors of your heart.  Solstice is a sacred, turn your whole being to the sun, wish for the entire world kind of day.  What are you willing to reach for? How much do you want it?  What are you willing to do about it?  Think about it.  Get back to me.

@anusara @grandcircle

Bring it.

The process of teaching, for me, aside from being lots of fun, is always an opportunity to receive as much as I give.

Years ago, I observed Ross Rayburn training teachers on what to do when you don't feel like teaching.  Maybe you're sad or distracted.  I remember that lesson because today, as I walked in to teach my first class, I was in a fun, a nasty little viper pit or depression, worry and negativity.  I'm not prone to these moods, so I can get pretty far into them before I can recognize them.  So as I grumpily drove to teach, I just wanted to go home and go to bed.  I also knew that the best thing I could do was to teach.  I remembered Ross' clear advice to the trainees.  Buck up and bring it.  Leave your stuff at the door and serve your students.  Right.  And away we go.

Fast forward an house and a half later, and 8 people are on the floor, absorbing their practices and my teachings.  So was I.  I had taught on the power of our core.  That we should seek to know what is true for us when everything else is stripped away, like trees in winter.  What is it that holds up, like tree trunks, when everything moves around us?  With the students in savasana, and nothing more to say, I had time to contemplate just that. And then, by the process of my own contemplation, I opened the floodgates and in rushed powerful remembrance of the truths of my heart.  I am held up, as as we all are, by Shiva  and Shakti, by the creative power of the universe and the very power of existence.  Oh, right.  Isn't that what I wanted my students to get?  To know intimately the power of their own existence?  I needed that lesson, too, I guess.  I'm so glad I followed Ross' advice, brought my best, and left all the other stuff at the door.  I feel better and am endlessly grateful for the teachings of Tantra that remind me that I am never without.  That I am never alone.  And that showing up for life is always the right choice.

What's so Painful about Sparkles?

I have a student that I will call "Sparkles." Anyone who practices at my studio immediately knows who this student is. There's no missing her. She's tall, blond, has two giant full moon blue eyes, and is about the sweetest person you'd ever want to meet. It's almost hard to believe she's for real, under all that generosity, concern and fierce loyalty. But she is. And the best part is that she really does sparkle. Everything she wears has a touch of bedazzle on it. People have, on occasion, applauded when she walks into the studio. Resistance is futile. She's about the brightest spot in my field of vision whenever I'm lucky enough to have her around.

A few weeks ago, Sparkles told me a story about a colleague who intentionally pissed her off and behaved aggressively to her. When Sparkles confronted this woman (I was so proud of her for standing up for herself), said colleague explained that she was glad that she was the one to make her mad because she was too cheery all the time. She didn't believe Sparkles could be that happy and be for real. Now maybe we all live in a sheltered yogic paradise where we find this motive unfathomable, but really—WTF? Someone went out of her way to dampen the light of a sparkle-y star and was pleased with herself about it. Proud even.

So here's my question. Why would a person want to dampen something that illuminates their surroundings? Why are there people like that? What's the deal with that? So I've been thinking about it.

What I've come up with is that for residents of twilights, greys, shadows and darks, the light is actually painful for them. It's like turning on the overhead light when you're dead asleep and being momentarily blinded. To feel compassion for these folks is the yogic way, of course, but for me, it doesn't stop there. That's the easy answer (although not necessarily easy to execute.) What I find most interesting was the response of Sparkles. She refused to be diminished by that woman's efforts and stood tall in her own light.

Because it's her truest nature to shine brightly, she can only do that. When we reside in our own personal truths and light, even darkness cannot dampen us. There will always be people who find the light of truth and beauty to be painful. It crops up as anger, pettiness, jealousy and avarice. Through world history and through our own personal histories, I'm sure you can find no shortage of examples. But I take Sparkles as my own example. Shine with authenticity, no matter what, like a lighthouse reaching out into the darkness. That kind of light is so bright that not even the darkest intentions can dampen it. I might even have to bedazzle something as a reminder.

Re-gifting as the highest offering.

Re-gifting gets a bad reputation as something to be avoided-something we only sheepishly cop to. But Bernadette got me thinking about the gifts we offer of ourselves last week, so I started thinking about it all from a Tantric perspective. At this point in my life, I'm pretty sure that I can't think of it any other way. Tantra teaches us that re-gifting is exactly the action of the Grace of this world. Each of us has come into this world complete with gifts, parts, instructions and all. While we spend a lifetime figuring out how to put it all together (I'm kind of sure my instructions came in Swahili,) we refine what we are and what we have to offer from ourselves. Get it? We receive gifts from the Source and then we offer them back out. We re-gift them. Isn't that easy?

Now, to take it a little deeper, you may say, "but I didn't ask for these gifts. Am obligated to participate in this exchange?" And the answer is emphatically-No. You don't even have to acknowledge your gifts if you so choose. But herein lies the rub, the gifts are still there. In your heart. Do with them what you will. Ignore them, shove them under the bed, or sweetly offer them back out. That's what makes it a gift of Grace. You didn't ask for it, you can't really repay it (not that it's expected,) and the more you pass it on, re-gift it, the more you have. The beauty of this elegant system is that the more you partake of and engage with your own gifts, the more you will have to offer. You don't give it away and get left with nothing. Grace is way smarter than that.

All of the gifts aren't lined up under your metaphorical tree, waiting for you to unwrap and assemble them for the offering, though. Sometimes we have to go searching for them, like I make my kids do for their birthday presents every year. (It's a little torturous for them, I admit, but it teaches them perseverance and the joy of discovery! And it's kinda fun for me too.) But knowing that what you give away of yourself will refill the well abundantly, isn't it worth the effort? It can be painful to give away things that we think will leave us without. No one wants to be without. But when we learn that it's really the opposite, that we receive more than we could ever give away, it becomes an exercise in abundance and gratitude. Now that's a gift worth assembling.