Inspiration, Ego, and Letting Go Part 1

One day a few weeks ago I attended a yoga class taught by an Ashtanga teacher. I do not normally practice Ashtanga, but she was subbing for someone, and I have always been intrigued by it (though honestly a bit weary of its intensity). Before class began, several of us were talking about various postures, and she brought out a book by her teacher whose name escapes me. We sat in a circle looking through this book on asana simply stunned. Some of those postures looked like he needed to be missing vertebrae to be in them. It was like looking at a modern version of "Light on Yoga," which if you have not read and are at all interested in amazing asana explanation, give it a go. It remains the asana bible to many.

Flipping through this asana book with a group of non-Ashtanga students, some of whom were fairly new to yoga, instigated a discussion that has been running through my head ever since and in various forms. Interestingly, it also crossed the yoga-lawyer line. A few people bemoaned the fact that these postures looked impossible. Even though I was a student in that class, I went into teacher mode and made two remarks. First, everyone’s body is different, and that just means that there are certain postures that some people may never be able to do (a discussion for the next post). Second, I look at a book like that and find inspiration.

And so the conversation began . . . The teacher mentioned she also turns to such books for inspiration rather than a reminder of how far she has to go. 

As students, are we to look at those more “advanced” in the posture as proof that we are lesser? Are we to feel inadequate because we have not achieved as much as they have? What if we have been practicing for nearly a decade and still have injuries, pains, and fears? Does not being able to fully express a posture make someone a bad yoga student? Does it make someone a bad person?

Of course not! Quite the opposite, in fact! 

Having a posture to aspire to provides the basis for the practice. When I started doing yoga, I could barely touch my knees in a forward bend. Today, if I am warm enough, I can place my nose on my knees. But I am also that person who has been practicing for almost a decade and still has injuries, and there are other “basic” postures I can barely do, if at all. Thus, I know where to work. I know what must be done.

That is why asana books are inspirational. Yoga has helped me learn that it can take years to increase flexibility and strength, but it is possible. We can go from not understanding our bodies at all to listening to them and letting them guide us through life. We can go from no balance to Dancer. Seeing others who have gone down the path before is inspiring because it helps me see how much is possible. On the yoga mat, I understand this concept.

I find this harder in the professional world. What really inspired this post was not the discussion around an asana book, but an email from an organization I love. The new President wrote her first President’s Message, and even though I have known her for years, I was amazed at how much she has done. I wrote her an email telling her how inspiring she is. I meant it. What I left out, however, is how it was also a bit like looking at an Asana book thinking, “there is no way I could ever do that.”

The reason I came to New Zealand to study was to learn about a system that I thought was working and share it with the United States. My inspiration was to bring a model of children’s representation in custody cases to the States, to give children support during a difficult time in their lives. That same organization I love provided the inspiration, and the connections, to make it possible. But now I am here. Now I am learning. Now I am seeing how difficult it really is.

It is like standing in a forward fold with my hands on my knees thinking that the ground is a mile away. The professional world is different than a yoga mat because our actions and internal awareness cannot change others. It can seem overwhelming at times, impossible even.

But then I remember that I did not touch the floor overnight, and the new President did not become the President of an international organization overnight. Change comes in increments, slowly but surely. And change comes from within first, and then we can share it with the world and make a difference in the professional world in which we inhabit.

So we can look at the “great” practitioners, on and off the mat, and think, “I could never do that,” or we can look at them and say, “I am going to do that!” With teachers and mentors, we can begin to reach closer and closer to the floor in our forward folds and higher and higher up our dreams in our lives. The first step, though, is to see those who have come before as inspirations and not proof of how far we have left to go.

Who inspires you? Do you allow yourself to be inspired instead of paralyzed?

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Let it go and start afresh

Modern life, especially modern life in an office, means detachment from nature and its cycles. We wake up in a house, walk into a car, walk into an office, then back into the car and back into the house. Sunshine, rain, and wind fail to change how our days progress. Weather and changing seasons matter little from the 20^th floor of an office building. Working in Phoenix in the summer, I had to carry a winter coat to work because it was so cold inside the building even though it was 110 degrees outside. But the Earth shifts and changes, and it has a lot to teach us if we tune in.

This week, however, we had an equinox, one of the four times a year when the seasons officially change, and for a brief moment, we think about the earth and its cycles. Generally, I think only of the seasons changing in the northern hemisphere. From my brief internet research, about 90% of the world’s population lives in the northern hemisphere. Here in New Zealand, however, we just celebrated the fall equinox. As the world’s bloggers were talking about rebirth, I am watching the sky turn gray and the weather turn cold. It does not feel like the rebirth the rest of the world is experiencing.

But yoga provides another perspective. The equinoxes are the points of transition for the Earth. They are our reminders that as one part of the world is in a state of rebirth, the other is in a state of shedding that which does not support it. As the leaves fall off the trees and the wind starts to blow stronger, we know that on the other side of winter, we will be experiencing the rebirth that we see in the northern hemisphere. In other words, we notice the cycle, the same cycle that affects us whether we pay attention or not.

But this recognition that the Earth goes through both stages at once is our reminder that so do we, as individuals. We can get stuck in our northern hemisphere view that it is spring, or we can open up and feel that at all moments, we are struggling to find the balance between letting go and rebirth. The image that keeps coming to mind is the phoenix, who must burn into ashes and from those ashes is reborn into a strong bird once again.

So, even though we see and experience only one or the other at a time, either spring or fall, both are impacting the Earth at the same time, and therefore both are affecting each and every one of us. Yoga is a reminder to tune back into the changing patterns of the Earth and ourselves. As we take the time to notice our own bodies, our own breath, and our own reactions to life, we can learn to tune into the way the Earth’s cycles affect us.

Yoga also teaches us about balance. There are particular balance postures, where you are standing on one foot, but there is also the balance between strength and flexibility, the balance between responding and reacting, and the balance between tuning in to our internal awareness and being affected by that which hits us externally.

Thus, it may be easy to ignore the cycles of the Earth, to go from the house to the car to the office where you need a winter coat even though it is sauna-like outside. But for a moment, tune in and notice that the Earth is able to hold letting go and rebirth together, as it transitions to fall down below and spring up above. What areas of your life do you want to allow to fall off, burn to ashes, so you can allow them to rebirth into something stronger and more useful to you?

Happy Fall and Happy Spring.

Namaste! 

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

This blog is not affiliated with Fulbright or Fulbright New Zealand, and all opinions expressed herein are my own.

When we have to "make do"

For nearly three months now, life has been a bit unsettling, and my yoga practice has taken a backseat to moving, traveling, earthquaking, and finally unpacking a suitcase after living out of one for nearly those entire three months. With the ability to settle has come a return to seek some sense of normalcy, a sense of stability, a sense of living my own life again.

I have begun to dive back into a home yoga practice, both asana and meditation focused. It is all too easy after so much time away to focus on what makes it too hard to begin a practice again such as funny looks from my housemates, especially the 8-year-old, or the carpet on the floor when my yoga mat is on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. These circumstances make it more difficult to practice, and sometimes it is much easier to skip it altogether and convince myself that yoga is really more about doing it off the mat, but as I mentioned before, that lets the bucket of yoga empty, and it gets harder to live a yoga life.

Practicing asana the other morning on the carpet, however, I realized that this is what yoga is. It is about adjusting to the circumstances and learning to use the body and mind in new ways. Doing Downward Facing Dog on carpet, especially slippery carpet, requires different muscles and different energies than when done on a mat. This does not make it impossible but instead forces me to tune into what is really happening, to pay more attention to the moment. Of course, this requires finding muscles I did not know I had. It is difficult and interesting all at the same time.

Life in a yoga studio, on a yoga mat, is superficial in many ways. We get as close to “perfect” as possible for the practice of yoga – cell phones off, slip-less mat, community energy, and someone to guide you through a practice. Life, however, does not function like that. Instead, we get thrown into situations, and sometimes we have to learn how to “make do” with what happens to be thrown our way. With a yoga practice, that could mean slippery carpet and a barking dog or lack of time, a sprained ankle, or simply no motivation.

As a lawyer, the “make do” quality often comes from the circumstances of a case – from who the client is to who the other parties are to who the other attorneys and judges are. There is no question that sometimes the “undesirable” client and opposing attorney arrive, and you have to find ways of working with them all. This can be a moment of frustration or a moment to find new "muscles," (not the competitive ones, of course) or new ways of being the best attorney you can be.

This is not a new concept. Being flexible is necessary in life, and it is especially important for lawyers and all of us in modern life. But it is quite a leap to fully recognize, and dare I say appreciate, that challenges can be our greatest teachers and lead us to discovering that which is strongest within us. There is a difference between just sitting back and accepting your “terrible” circumstances and using them to reach into yourself and discover your true strength and maybe even learning to love the situation.

Sometimes, of course, it still is not the best situation, but you have learned that you can handle it. Then, when you get a moment to break away from the situation, the world outside of it is that much brighter. For me, this week, that means a chance to go to a yoga class, meet some new people, and go food shopping to stock up and prepare for a week instead of living in restaurants. In lawyer-speak, this can mean a case finally settles or the client goes on vacation or you get to work on a different case and realize that it is one you truly enjoy. So, from our less-than-ideal situations, we can find our own inner strength, but we can also appreciate the better circumstances more. After all, spring is extra beautiful because it is preceded by winter, right?

What circumstances have led to you finding new muscles and ways of interacting? In what other ways have these circumstances opened your eyes?

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved
This blog is not affiliated with Fulbright or Fulbright New Zealand, and all opinions expressed herein are my own.

Flexible or vulnerable?

I want to keep exploring this idea of flexbility that I began in my last post. My conclusion there was, “just start.” Start moving, and eventually the flexibility will start to arise. But the question is how did we get unflexible? (Yes, I know that is not a word, but hopefully you get the idea.) It is (almost) cliche to say that children are flexible, and we lose that flexibility over time. But why? How? Does knowing the genesis of that loss give us some insight into how to fix it? I think it does.

Physically, what does it mean to not be flexible? We lose our physical flexibility when our muscles get too stiff, when they constrict and hold their shape. Certainly, one cause is repetitive motions that are “not good” for our bodies; my favorite culprit is the chair. Oh, the modern chair, in which we constrict our hips, crunch our low backs, round our shoulders, and when the computer is added, jut out our jaws. And many of us spend hours upon hours a day in a chair.

But what are we holding in those constricted muscles? Our muscles hold our past. They are havens of our emotions, our memories, and our thoughts. People talk of bursting out crying or laughing in particular postures. Sometimes, I will have the most random thought pop into my head of a distant memory during yoga. That is usually when the lawyer in me takes over, and I start wondering what it is about that posture, that muscle, which causes me to remember one moment over another. Oh well.

Perhaps the greatest gift children can give us is openness. Certainly I am not going to glorify childhood. It has its downsides for sure, but the open eyes with which children see the world is awe inspiring. Have you ever been with a group of people when a baby or toddler arrives? Every one's eyes turn to the child; we yearn to be back in that space where life was exhilarating, and where each moment was an opportunity to learn something new.

How do we lose that? Shall I call it innocence? Openness? Spaciousness? Acceptance? Dare I call it flexibility? In some sense, we must lose it. After all, a baby would be lucky to last two days without an adult taking care of it, and toddlers not much longer. Why? They are too vulnerable. Animals must protect their young from predators, and humans had to as well until civilization. But today, a baby could walk into the street, or not be able to reach the food in the cupboard. They are vulnerable and need the support of adults. Eventually, they become those adults who then long for their lost flexibility and gawk and laugh as children go by.

Yoga helps us find that inner child. We begin to open our stiff muscles, go deep into our memories, and start to see the world through children’s eyes again. After all, “child’s pose” and “happy baby” are both hip openers. But just as children are vulnerable, so too, can we become vulnerable as we begin to open. Some are not quite ready to face that past and may have held it deep for a long, long time. That is why yoga is a practice, a process. It gives us time to open slowly and carefully.

I am quite scared by people who want to get flexible overnight. Instead, I hope that people, especially those who are extremely stiff, both physically and perhaps mentally, to take time in yoga. It takes a long time to become the people we are as adults, and we cannot go back immediately. More importantly, if we give up too much, we lose our ability to care for ourselves. We lose our personal strength . . . but that is a post for another day.

So, I hope to encourage people to get started, but be careful and give yourself the time and space to grow and open safely.

Namaste and Blessings!

© Copyright 2010. Rebecca Stahl.

What is flexibility?

In my yoga class tonight (as a student), the teacher told me that I am almost too flexible. I almost burst out laughing, but she was looking at one part of my body, my shoulder blades, and telling me to breath into them. She was right; I needed to fill them with some air, but too flexible? Not I! Not even close!

I have been focusing on flexibility a lot this week. I was presenting at a conference on Monday where someone’s emergency caused me to have to change my presentation plans. Then my flight was delayed. I also spent much of this past week writing my handouts for my yoga workshop for lawyers. One of the best benefits of yoga for lawyers I could find, besides balance, is flexibility.

The most common reason/excuse/justification I hear from people as to why they do not do yoga is that they are not flexible enough. I rarely know how to respond to this. Very few people are flexible when they start yoga, at least not physically. But what does the phrase, “I’m not flexible enough” say about a person?

Usually the person saying it means in the physical sense. Flexibility, however, is much deeper. Our flexibility is about how we relate to each other, to situations that arise in life, to other ideas, and to our own beliefs. Flexibility is life. Imagine a plant - we know it is alive when it is malleable, when it can sway with the wind. When plants die, they become hard and static, unable to bend without snapping. (Yes, all beings follow this pattern, but the most common dead thing most of us encounter are plants.)

An ability to take life as it arises is something I admire in people. Yoga has helped me let go of my controlling tendencies, my need to know what is happening, my desire to know the future, but I am far from feeling fully flexible. Some days are easier than others. But even though tonight in class, my shoulder blades were dipping, it was mostly because my chest is tight, and they are overcompensating. So, once again, I find myself seeking a balance, this time between front and back. Once again, my body is teaching me what my soul needs to learn.

So, my new answer to “I’m not flexible enough” is going to be, “just start.” Start testing the waters. Start moving with life. Start moving your body. Each and every day, I see my body change. Some days, like today, I feel strong and flexible all at the same time. But even on days like today, I see those parts of me that feel stiff as a board. Those places, those moments, are my best teachers.

I hope to encourage others to trust themselves enough to take that leap, to begin to let go, and to see what the world has to offer.

Namaste and blessings!

© Copyright 2010. Rebecca Stahl.