Day 5 of The School of Yoga Immersion Part I in Tucson, Arizona:

http://livethelightofyoga.blogspot.com/

Today we spoke of Practice or Abhyasa. As Patanjali put it:

Practice is

1.     Repetitious, without interruption

2.     Continual, over a long period of time

3.     Reverence, devotion

After a day of asana (where I held handstand in the middle of the room for THREE WHOLE SECONDS thank you very much) I find myself sitting in a café on 4^th Avenue, Bob Dylan in my ears, left hand curled around hot Earl Grey with milk and honey, in the middle of the desert. It’s dusk and the sun low in the sky sets the mountains and the tops of the stoplights on fire. There’s a haze over the city, obscuring the light, like I’m peering though a screen door. There’s a certain kind of crustiness to the people down here. They’ve been weathered by the sun and the dry heat. Their exteriors are rougher, more scaly like most desert creatures. I mean this in the best sense—their hearts are soft and yearn to connect with water, with truth, with a smile from a passerby on the street. The necessity is here and The School of Yoga has something to fulfill this necessity.

It’s January 22 and a tiny fake Christmas tree in the corner, with balls too big for it’s britches—I mean branches—watches over a semi-serious breakup happening at the table in front of it. A young Cary Elwes (The Princess Bride) is studiously casting side-ways glances at me, and texting while occasionally reading the textbook in front of him. Curly hair capped by a green beanie, has his back to me; white t-shirt tight around his latissimus dorsi. Another, she’s curled around a book in the corner to my right. Another, they stare at separate computer screens trying to tame the sexual tension, pretending to be interested in whatever their blue screens are displaying. And another, they order at the counter, she plays with her hair, and he glances at the adds taped to the register casually uninterested. They pay separately. Another, he walks in, grey Converse, khaki pants, green hoodie, I can’t see his face. There are so many. Her blue shell earrings stare at me like big round eyes from across the room.

It’s dark outside now, and the older one with white hair, fingers flying over keyboard, shows no signs of leaving. Here we are, you, me, us, them, us, we, we are all the same—human, fleshy, emotional, blobs of what? (Don’t answer that question,) instead, ask yourself, as Mary Oliver said, “What will you do with this one wild and precious life?”

I want to have the conversation of what matters to you. Laughter, I wan to laugh more. I want to stop being afraid to cry in public. I want to be able to tell people how my day is really going, and say Yes without holding back.

What do you want?

Honesty

Honesty requires ruthless self-honesty. As one of my teachers told me, “You must be willing to tell the truth about myself no matter how bad it makes me look,” and this means no holding back, no half-truths, no clouds, no shading of the facts. From this moment forward I will pretend that I have the Lair, Lair curse (or “wish” depending on how you look at it) and for one day, to start with, I cannot tell a lie. Not to myself, not to anyone else. Now where to begin…? As my mother always tells me, “Just jump right in,” and so, as my Brenda Ueland said, “Start with something true.”

I love beets. Not like, or enjoy occasionally, no, I love beets—as in, would marry them if I could. Okay, maybe that’s taking it a little too far, but really, I love them.

Okay, try harder Shinay; I am in love. I am in love with 7 billion people, and one in particular.

Closer, but… well, here’s the thing, I doubt that what I have to say is even relevant to what other people want to read. So I’ll just start tell you about my day, because that’s what bloggers do, right…? Blab—I mean blog—on about their day.

For the first time in the eight years that I have been practicing yoga, today I was able to touch my knees to the ground in Baddha Konasana. WOW!

Thank you Christina Sell and Darren Rhodes for your support of each of your dedicated students. I appreciate what these two have to offer. Profundity with clarity, and skilful means, what a day.

This is a breakthrough for me because I have a big fat story that “my hips are too tight” therefore I can’t… blah, blah, blah. But I did it and shot that Story dead!

That’s the truth for tonight and more to come!

Feeling gratitude in my heart.

I am so lucky. We are all so blessed. 

Contemplating AIM, and this is what I get

Damp creosote and barbeque chicken.

The evening air is chilly and stars are not as bright here as they are at home in the high desert.

The air is a bit thicker and my breath sticks in my chest.

Pleiades hangs above me and the faint cluster of sisters once again makes their presence known in my life.

No matter which way I turn, I see them, these tiny dancers in the sky…

My heart aches to me near those warm bodies of love.

Can distance really create a deeper bond?

My incessant mind chatters on.

I tilt my chin at the night sky and repeat the name of god softly under my breath.

How easily distracted I am when the number on the houses grasp my attention and twirl it about in repetition of numbers and vowel sounds.

I clench the fist of my right mind, squeezing tight to the lessons I have learned because if not now, when will I ever learn?

A barking dog breaks the silence and I turn my feet to cross the street away from the ruckus.

I get caught up in trepidations of the dark.

Goosebumps prick my skin and I shiver despite my many layers of clothing.  

I train my mind off superficial data becoming acutely aware of my feet in flip flops on a Thursday evening in January.

I’m here to serve—there is no other purpose.

Cultivating strength of body and strength of mind.

The capacity to deal with shitty circumstances and shitty people.

The willingness to keep going when I feel like quitting.

The necessity for commitment and endurance.

Thank you for this, this opportunity to grow. 

patience |ˈpā sh əns|noun1 the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset : patience is something one cultivates, it is not inherent... or is it?

As I think about what is important to me in my life, it's not about the number of people who read my blog or comment on my Facebook or send me texts throughout the day (although my ego definitely appreciates it) the thing that gets me out of bed is an overwhelming sensation of gratitude each morning when I open my eyes. I experience the presence of a force that is holding my heart and carrying me along this path of life more strongly than any Earthly metal; it is more compassionate than any Jesus and more radiant than the summer sun. But the troubling weight that slides my hand over to the snooze button (four times) willing the dawn to go away is the I inside myself that is unsure how to repay this extraordinary benediction. For the first time in my life I am in touch with the source of Grace in my life and all I can do is wave tiny lights and burn incense in front of faded pictures and bronze statues.

I ask myself, is this enough?

And the answer that keeps arising is, just trust.

trust |trəst|

noun

1 firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something: students must trust their teachers | radical reliance on the guru is another way to say, “I trust you with my life.”  

bliscipline |ˈblisəplin|

noun

1 the practice of training one’s mind and physical body to a code of behavior, using repetition over a long period of time in a manner that uplifts the spirits and creates a clearing for love: want to meet for a beer? No thank you, I’m working on my bliscipline.

• the controlled behavior resulting from such training : she was able to maintain bliscipline while sitting in front of a computer for eight hours.

• activity or experience that provides mental and physical training : yoga is a bliscipline open to old and young.

• a system of rules of conduct : she doesn't have to submit to normal blisciplines.

2 a branch of knowledge, typically one studied in higher education : waiting in line at the check out is a great way to practice one’s bliscipline.

I think this song is about Grace...

Mysterious Way by U2


Johnny take a walk with your sister the moon
Let her pale light in to fill up your room
You've been living underground
Eating from a can
You've been running away
From what you don't understand...
Love

She's slippy
You're sliding down
She'll be there when you hit the ground

It's alright, it's alright, it's alright
She moves in mysterious ways

Johnny take a dive with your sister in the rain
Let her talk about the things you can't explain
To touch is to heal
To hurt is to steal
If you want to kiss the sky
Better learn how to kneel

(on your knees boy)

She's the wave
She turns the tide
She sees the man inside the child

One day you will look...back
And you'll see...where
You were held...how
By this love...while
You could stand...there
You could move on this moment
Follow this feeling

We move through miracle days
Spirit moves in mysterious ways
She moves with it
She moves with it
Lift my days, light up my nights