Taming the Monkey Mind

There is an Buddhist expression in meditation called the 'monkey mind'. It describes the jumping around of the mind, unsettled and restless, pausing briefly on a thought that pops up before moving onto the next. Imagine a monkey swinging from branch to branch, back and forth in constant motion. You get the picture. 

Monkey minds are often in an agitated states too, dreading something that may happen in the future or fixating on something that happened in the past. 

I can relate. I can be quite the worrier at times. 

My monkey mind likes to jump ahead, imagining different scenarios, making assumptions that don't yet exist (that often turn out wrong anyway) ), worrying about 'what if'. Granted some mental preparation is often useful in planning ahead, but when it becomes rumination- well that's something else.. and it rarely serves me well. However, when I started a regular meditation and yoga practice, I began to learn that the monkey mind can be gently trained. 

When we are in a pose (asana) we train the mind to be focused on what your body is doing.  It takes time to transition into the pose thoughtfully, to tune into our bodies in an intimate way.  Pranayama (controlling the breath) can work in a similar way. When all our attention is focused on our breath, there is no room for background chatter. Instead the mind is invited to rest on the simple act of breathing in… and breathing out.

Together they work in harmony to calm the mind, and to settle some of our monkey mind chatter. We're given the gift of quiet awareness- the gift of coming home. Home to that  peaceful heart that resides in us all. 

Namaste. _/l\_

The Joy of the Amaryllis

Christmas is a bit of a yin/yang time for me. As much as I dislike all the commercial hype around it, I do love the family time and all the traditions, both old and new that are uniquely ours.

I also love anything natural at this time. I keep my bird feeders full and I so appreciate their beautiful presence throughout the winter months. Even though we don't have one (because of a certain furry family member) I do love real Christmas trees, and the greens that I pick out for my outdoor pot each year. I love the poinsettias, the way my Christmas cactus seems to know when it's time to bloom. And I especially love the amaryllis plant.

There is something so simple, yet so magical about planting this bulb in a pot of soil, and watching it push through the earth – the slim and waxy leaves, the thick stalk with that plump bulb perched on top, day by day reaching for the sky. And finally announcing its grand entrance as it bursts open into not just one but multiple exquisite blooms!

 Amaryllis' are not shy. They bloom like they are the only flower that ever mattered! And unlike the lovely hibiscus flower that only lives a day, the amaryllis hold it's bloom for many days, blessing us over and over again with intoxicating beauty.

This special flower has symbolism attached to it as well. It's a living symbol of love, and ethereal beauty. It also symbolizes strength and determination to continue in the face of life's challenges.

To me it is also about how nature reveals the mystery of life through this plant. We plant a seed within us, nurture it to keep it alive, and then we have the faith that something will grow. It really is not in our hands but we tend it carefully and tenderly and with patience.

And when we're least expecting it grace touches down and something blooms within us, awakening us to a deeper sense of life itself.

For several years I gave my dear mom an amaryllis and I delighted in her joy as the first bloom emerged. And in that spirit of joy I will keep this tradition alive by offering it to other loved ones this holiday season.

May you also find joy in whatever touches you this, and let your heart be as beautiful as the amaryllis boom.


Namaste. _/l\_

Lessons from a Kitten

A week ago I walked into a pet store and walked out with a silver tabby kitten. I knew she had me as soon as the cage opened, and she nuzzled into my neck, purring loudly. We had found each other.

Mimi has breathed new life into our home and my heart is so full of love for this sweet little soul. And already she is teaching me some lessons to take on and off the mat. Here are just a few.

Be Curious. A kitten is full of curiosity! The simplest things are full of intrigue, and she is constantly wondering, exploring, checking things out. Eyes wide and questioning, her world is there to discover.
I can relate. I've always been curious but sometimes I need reminders to look at life through this lens a little more often. No matter how old we are, to have a curious, fresh mind opens the doors to new opportunity, new possibilities in life. It's exciting and rejuvenating to be inquisitive, even with the simplest things. To meet life with a beginner's mind, open and ready to learn more.
And it keeps us young as a kitten!

Be Playful. I love the way that kittens are completely spontaneous and eager to play at the slightest suggestion. Pretending her furry mouse is real, she  tackles it fiercely and carries it to her little bed. Or leaps off the furniture in pursuit of that feather bird. The exuberance of her playful nature brings out the same in me. How long has it been since I sat on the floor and just played with a kitten? Too long. It lightens the heart like nothing else. It also reminds me how important play is and how easily we can forget it amidst the seriousness of our lives. I really think we'd be healthier, happier human beings if we found time to have silly stupid fun. So get out there and play!

Take Naps. I always have to laugh when Mimi plays full out, and then flops. Curled up in a ball or sprawled out on the floor, she's dead to the world for her cat nap. And when she wakes, she's refreshed and ready to go. How often do we take naps when we're tired, even when we're home and have the luxury of doing so? There have been many studies showing the importance of naps to one's health, but still few of us feel like we have permission to lie down for a half an hour to catch a few winks. Napping is so restorative, and much healthier than that extra cup of coffee to keep us going throughout out the day. So consider a little nap when you can, and know it's time well spent.

Trust. From the first time I scooped her up into my arms, this kitten has entrusted me with her life. To feed her, keep her safe and well, to give her kindness and love- to be there when she needs me. It's as simple as that.  It's a humbling reminder of the importance of trusting in life. To know we'll be given what we need, that even in the hard times we'll be taken care of, and that all will be well. Trusting opens the heart to receiving.. and to giving back.

Take Risks: Perched on the back of the sofa, Mimi sees her favourite toy, crouches into tiger mode, quickly assesses whether she'll have a safe landing. But not for long. Taking a flying leap, she pounces on her prey full of confidence. I love watching her fearless little character push her limits. And it reminds me to take my own risks- to push my limits too. It's easy to stay safe in one's own comfort zone, but growth rarely happens there. Sometimes we need to take a flying leap, and dive right in. To be scared… and just do it anyway. More than than not, it's well worth the leap,

All these lessons in just one week. I can't wait to learn more as we grow together..

Namaste.

Just Today

We left for Italy at the end of September. Before boarding (yoga mat in tow, healthy food and running gear), I announced to my husband "I'm sticking with my routine while we're away- eating healthy, running and practising yoga!" With absolute conviction in my voice I think he actually believed it a little. He just smiled and said "We'll do our best."

I think it was approximately 20 minutes from the Italian airport, on the way to our destination when we pulled over at a rest stop for our first espresso and chocolate croissant. And from there, you can pretty well guess how the rest of the trip went. (It was the best).
However when we arrived home and opened the door. I turned to my husband again and jokingly said  "bootcamp begins NOW!"

I had visions of us sliding back into our healthy routine without any interruptions or discomfort. A pretty good plan if it hadn't been for the stomach flu and jet lag.

And the death of my one of the most important people in my life.

So when I finally laced up my running shoes and opened the door on a cool clear morning,  I left without expectations of anything. I headed out to the wooded path, where nature reaches out and pulls me close to her. A place where I can exhale, and fall into her arms.

As I was running along the secluded trail something happened that often happens when I leave my expectations and intentions at the door. My head gets clearer, my mind quieter, my heart lighter. The rules about my life fade out, and all that matters is opening to something greater.

I took the crisp air into my lungs, and noticed all the changes that had taken place in the vegetation since I had been there. It was noticeably fall and this transition comforted me. The sounds were different, and it smelled of golden rods and tiny purple asters.
The world seemed right, the way it was meant to be.

I often have little (and sometimes big) revelations as I run this quiet path. Today it was two simple words. Words that I've heard my daughter say many times. 'Just today'.

Just today, enjoy and be grateful for more things than I can count, including the ability to run this path, for someday I will no longer be able to. Just today, enjoy that I can eat wholesome, healthy food- a bounty of it. And just today remember that it is a privilege to be able to look after this body that has worked so hard for me, and has served me so well for 60 years.

As I finished my run, it didn't seem quite as important to do it all 'just right'. It was enough to simply make the first step and know the rest would follow.

 I turned and looked back at that path as I headed home.

Thank you, I said quietly. For today. Just today.

Just Start Again

Like a lot of people in the summer, I give myself a little slack from regular routines. Summers seem to fly by, and I love spending time outdoors to take full advantage of this beautiful weather.

I also admit I've taken a break from yoga for a couple of weeks, thinking I could just come back to the mat and carry on where I left off.

It was a bit of shocker when I did return to my mat to find that my muscles had tightened up like crazy. I was amazed at how quickly the practice had left my body. It felt like the first time on the mat. How can this be???

I was never naturally flexible, and with age this is even more apparent. I've come to accept that I need to keep running so I can keep running And apparently, this also applies for yoga. 'Use it or lose it' has never been truer.'

It was more than a little humbling when I tried to do my first practice after my (what I thought was a brief) hiatus. I was never super bendy but c'mon... And to add more humility to the mix- I'm a yoga teacher!

Once I got over myself, I realized that just because I felt like I had banked some time, yoga doesn't work that way- at least not for me. I am never going to be naturally flexible, and with my age, and my other activities such as running, boot camp, and cycling- it needs to be part of my daily routine.

So.. what next?

Well, the simple answer is just start again. Give my bruised ego a little hug and simply come back to my mat. I suspect that it won't take long to regain what I seem to have lost over the last couple weeks but even if it takes longer, it will be time well spent.

And just as importantly,  it is also time to come home to myself. To embrace my imperfect self, to connect with my breath, to notice sensations in my body and thoughts that run through my mind.

There are always going to be things that distract, or even derail us at times, in life. And sometimes we can only know what balance is, when we're out of balance. But if we can kindly acknowledge any judgement that comes with that, and just start again- who knows where it might lead?

Today is a new day. A new experience on my mat.

And gratitude that I can begin again.

Namaste._/l\_

Many Paths to Mindfulness

I often speak of developing mindfulness in our practice of yoga. When we come to the mat we are invited to slow down the busyness of our thoughts, become aware of our breath and the inner landscape of our physical, and emotional states. In doing so, we can begin to take this awareness into our daily lives, even when we don't realize we are doing so. A subtle clarity can begin to grow that gives us a perspective about life we may not have had before. The more we practise, the more it can grow.

Meditation, like yoga draws our attention inward, to the breath. Thoughts arise, we notice them and acknowledge them, and return time and time again to the breath. Over time and with practice, meditation can have many beneficial physical and emotional effects such as calming the mind, and lowering blood pressure, as well as profound shifts in one's perception of impermanence and interconnectedness.

But I also believe there are many paths to mindfulness. I'd like to share a few that have helped me along the way.

Nature. There is a wooded path close by and I've been going for quiet walks there lately with the intention of just being present to everything around me. When I consciously open my senses like this in nature, all kinds of  things seem to drop down inside of me. Like the ground covered with daisies and little yellow orchids, wee apples growing on the wild apple tree, a symphony of bird song. The soft breeze on my face, the earth beneath my feet. It's an incredibly grounding thing to be in nature. Somehow my small little mind becomes more expansive when I take in the wonder of everything around me. It's comforting too- somehow witnessing those cycles of nature that happen each and every year, makes the world seem right.

It is a time to quiet my mind. There is a palpable energy in nature that gently descends on me if I surrender the busyness of my mind, and the reminder that I am connected to the trees, the sky, the stream, the birds. I can't live with without nature.

When I don't get out for a walk, I often look outside. I take in the changes around me, the way the sky looks, or the way the wind is moving the leaves on the trees, the shape of the moon. I open the windows to hear birdsong, or the sound of tree frogs in the summer evening. This summer I planted a container garden on our deck.  Each day, I notice something new as I discover my first little cherry tomato, or the jagged bite marks on my fresh kale leaves. 

Even setting a single flower bloom in a dish of water  is enough to open to the miracle of life.

Photography. Recently I decided to take a basic photography course to learn more about seeing the world through fresh eyes. When I have my camera, it is often a reminder to look closely at things in ways I routinely miss. Simple things, like the way the wooden clothes pins lean this way and that as they hold my t-shirts snugly in their grip. The geometric lines made by the shadows from a walking bridge. The monarch butterfly, wings opening slowly and methodically, as it rests on the globe thistle bloom. The way the light hits the face of Buddha on my shrine in the morning. 

The inquiry, and curiousness of new eyes looking at the world around me. That is the real gift of my camera.

Running. Believe it or not, this is one of the most mindful practices in my life. Contrary to reports of feeling high from all the endorphins, this definitely  hasn't been my experience. Running is hard work for me, even though my pace seems minimally quicker than a fast walk! But what it has taught me, is to open to the discomfort. I've learned to gently acknowledge and hold all the chatter in my head telling me I should stop, it's too hot, I have too far to go and instead stay steady and just carry on, knowing that this too will change. I've often started a run thinking it'll be a write off, only to discover that if I stay with the discomfort long enough, it just may just change into something else. And it usually does, often with a positive ending.

Running has taught me that my predictions and assumptions are often faulty and it's way more interesting to just wait and see what unfolds. And even more importantly, that if I can stay open and steady with some suffering at some point it will inevitable change into something else. The beauty of impermanence. 

Cooking. Cooking is a deeply mindful practice for me. Before I begin, I gather my ingredients together and in that moment, I always feel a  rush of gratitude. Gratitude for the food that is abundantly available, the ability to have the time to make nourishing meals, the colours, smells and textures of each ingredient, the sound of my knife as I chop the vegetables, the aroma of the soup coming wafting into the kitchen. 

I am always humbled and present when I cook, always deeply grateful. Love is in my food.

A Silent Meal. Thich Nhat Hanh wrote a lovely little book on "How to Eat." I keep it on our dining table and sometimes my husband or I may pick it up before the meal and read a short passage. This is from his book. A real gem.

"Happiness is possible during the meal, and silence helps enormously. You may want to pick one meal a week to eat in silence. A silent meal helps you to come back to yourself and arrive in the present moment. A truly silent meal includes turning off the noise in your head as well as finding a quiet place to enjoy your meal. You may like to choose the eat the same meal every week silently. This can be a meal you eat by yourself, or if you have family or friends who want to join you for this meal, that is wonderful. Silence helps you return to your mindful breathing. You can stop the internal mental chatter, relax, breath, and smile. Such a meal can provide many moments of happiness."

Babies and pets. For me, engaging with a baby is a true gift. Touching a baby's skin or watching a baby laugh- or cry- or sleep- or play- never fails to draw my awareness to the present moment. Babies have a way of captivating and opening my heart in a way that is like no other. They reveal life in a sacred, precious way and time seems to stand still when I'm with a baby.

Pets have a similar effect on me. Although we don't have one ourselves, I always love when our daughters bring their cats home with them for a stay. To listen to a soft purr, or gaze upon one sitting on top of the mantel with her paws tucked in, to feel the weight of a soft body leaning into my leg, or a stroke of the silky back are moments that become complete in themselves.

Often I'll stop at the pet store and spend a few moments with the kittens and cats that come in from the shelters. Speaking quietly to each one, sometimes a a little stroke of fur between the bars in the cage. It is a gift to have these moments, a mindful practice that will stay with me for hours.

Conversations. Sometimes I try to practice mindfulness in conversations and interactions with others. Listening deeply, taking in the person, opening my heart to them. It can be as brief as an exchange with the young man who is checking out my groceries, or long and deep with a daughter who needs her mom. All it takes is my full attention. Being present to another human being.

Reaching Out to Others. Continuing in this vein, some of the most mindful, life changing experiences have been when I've reached out to another, to be helpful in some way. I've experienced this in all realms of my life, from a relatively brief period of time, to years.

When I take the attention off myself, and look at the needs of someone else, it is a profoundly heart opening gift, and one that continues to call out to me.

Writing. Writing in my blog has turned out to be a very useful practice. Often on walks, I will think of a theme, and when I get home, write about it.  For me, writing helps me to clarify and crystallize concepts that stay with me longer than if they were just thoughts. It helps me to ponder and/or prioritize my spiritual values and hopefully by sharing it helps others do the same. I must focus entirely on my thoughts when I write, and for me this has become a beautiful, mindful practice.

Mindful Mondays. Contemplative practice is important to me, but I admit, I don't always walk the talk. Meditation, chanting, journal/blog writing, yoga, reading spiritual teachings are all solitary practices that I value but truthfully don't take enough time to do. So for the next few weeks, I've started something called Mindful Mondays. My computer (which is my biggest distraction) is out of bounds except for writing in my blog. During this time, I'm dedicating the day to these practices. It is true luxury to have this day to devote to these activities, and I'm very grateful for this.

These are just a few of the practices that come to mind in my own life. Many are small, and need nothing more than my time. But each has a place for me,  and continues to help me appreciate this precious life and live it in a mindful manner.

Perhaps one or speaks to you, or asks the question within your own heart:

"Where can I find mindfulness in my own life?"

Namaste.  

Namo Amida Bu. _/l\_

Top 10 Tips for New (And Not so New) Yoga Teachers

When I retired from teaching second graders, I wasn't sure what was ahead of me. After basking in a whole lot of free time, I turned my attention to 'what next..' I was still young, and knew there were opportunities out there for me, I just had to start opening to them.

One such opportunity was the idea of becoming a yoga teacher. At the time, I had only dabbled in the practice of yoga, but it did resonate with me, and I felt with my teaching skills, it might be a good fit. What I didn't realize what a gift it would become on so many levels in my life.

I was very fortunate to have been guided (divine intervention I think!) to a group of exceptional teachers in my training and beyond. And kulas that have been so supportive. It really is a wonderful community to belong to, and grow with, which I continue to be so grateful for.

It has been about five years now, since my training and I was thinking the other day how much I've learned so much about myself as a teacher. I just wanted to share a few of these tips- some practical, some conceptual, especially for those new teachers out there who may need a little help along the way.

1) Be patient. Be very patient. It takes time to build confidence and knowledge, especially if teaching-and/or-teaching is something new for you. In my case, it was both. I had been a primary school teacher, but teaching adults is very different, and although very rewarding, more intimidating early on. I was also quite new to yoga, so I had a lot to learn and the more I learned, the more I realized I didn't know! It takes time.. and that time contains so much value.

2) Be disciplined. Preparing good lessons (even now) takes time and discipline. I prioritize my day around my class, and make sure I give myself lots of time to think through the lesson, as well as practise it physically so I have a sense of the flow, the timing etc. This has become easier as time goes on, but still- a quality lesson takes time, and setting that time aside is well worth it, for your students and yourself.

3) Be organized. Make sure you have your lesson, props, music, or any other paraphernalia you need to take to class! It really helps, as I have learned from my own experience a time or two when I arrived to find my iPod needed recharging, or the lesson I had laboured over had been left at home. These things can really throw off a teacher, especially a novice one. So take the time to check you have everything you need.

4) Give yourself enough time to get to the studio, and set up. It's always better to be a little early than late. And unless to teach from home, or you are within walking distance to your studio, unforeseen things can happen along the way! Road construction, subway delays, heavy traffic and other delays can derail you. Don't assume you can get always there with the same amount of time- be generous and leave a little earlier to avoid the fluster factor. Students don't want a stressed out yoga teacher!

5) Keep learning. No matter how experienced you are, there is always more to learn. When I attend as a student, I have a little notebook beside my mat, and jot down any notes- sometimes just a phrase, or word that I want to remember for my own class. Devour learning in whatever way works for you. For me, my teachers are #1 in my education. I have learned an exceptional amount from them as a student. But I also read blogs, books, take workshops and watch videos for new ideas to keep the practice fresh. And some of the best knowledge can come from your own home practice which is so essential as a student and a teacher. I have had my greatest revelations as I quietly tap into my inner awareness on the mat. It continues to be a challenge for me to have a consistent home practice. But I'm working on it!

6) Be compassionate towards yourself. This has been one of my greatest learnings. I tend to set the bar high for myself, and on many occasions have felt discouraged about how a class played out.  But with the support and feedback from my teachers, my husband (also my student), exercising my own self compassion, and knowing that my love of yoga was greater than the disappointment of a botched class-  it has paid off.  As inexperienced teachers we need to just stay steady with our vulnerabilities and hang in there by 'just coming back to the mat' time and time again. And even with some experience under our belts, there will be times when we're not feeling our best, physically or emotionally. It happens. We're human. Keep a sense of humour, a lightness of heart. It will serve you well throughout your journey.

7)  Sometimes we can get so caught up or nervous about performing as teachers, we can forget about our students.  Greet them warmly, appreciate their presence, listen to their concerns, whether they are physical or emotional. Inquire if they have any issues that may need modifications in the practice. Thank them for coming, and ask how they feel after the class and if they have any questions. Even if they only come to one class,  approach them as if they made that class special, just by being there.
And if I am nervous, and take the focus off myself to my students, it also helps to steady my nerves and keeps me more in my heart. A win win for all.

8) Do you know teachers who seem to have it all- a comprehensive knowledge of all aspects of yoga? I do, several in fact.  And they continue to inspire me to grow as well. But some of us have more obvious strengths- and weaknesses. I count myself in that category. But what I have learned, is to celebrate those strengths and not take them for granted. We all have our gifts- in yoga and in life- and we often don't acknowledge them fully. Instead it's easier to see where we're lacking and focus on those inadequacies. Make a conscious effort to embrace and appreciate what you do well and just keep pluggin' along to learn more in the other areas that are not so strong. It will happen.

9) Try to keep your yoga class well rounded. I usually have a brief yoga talk at the beginning and a theme for the class to help me incorporate a spiritual and/or philosophical element. It often relates to something in my life as so it's relatable. But do whatever feels natural for you. And of course, integrate some pranayama into your practice as well. Sometimes we can become so focused on the physical practice that the whole class revolves around that. Yoga is so much more than that. It's important to offer teachings related to the heart, as much as the physical being. Sometimes that's what students remember most.

10) Be the best version of you. I remember at the beginning trying so hard to memorize scripted lessons because I didn't have the confidence to trust my own language.  What I've learned is that it is more authentic, and believable to explain something in my own words, even if the language is simple.  Students don't expect a teacher to be perfect, they just want someone who is present, engaged and trying his/her best.

So there you have it. Just a few little tips I've gathered over the years as a teacher.  Maybe it's worth it to take a few minutes and reflect on what you've learned too. Time to contemplate where we've been can be a very useful practice in helping to shape our vision of the future.

I wish you a full and rich teaching experience. You have everything you need, within you.

Namaste. _/l\_