Showing posts with label Tension. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tension. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

What it Means to Relax Part 2

Yesterday, we discussed why to relax and the healing power that comes with relaxation, but sometimes I think few of us know how to actually relax, so this post is dedicated to that specifically.

There are hundreds, if not thousands, of techniques for relaxation. There are even apps for it. Some of the most popular are: meditation, walking in nature, restorative yoga, yoga nidra, yin yoga, somatic awareness, knitting, exercising, cooking, and vacations. There are even programs designed to change our brain waves to help us relax, including Holothink and Holosync. I could probably go on, but you get the idea. There are ways we have come up with to help us relax.

But how many of us are actually able to relax in these settings? How do you know if you have fully relaxed? Is that even possible in this modern world?

First, there are several reasons it is so incredibly difficult to actually relax. One of the main reasons is the one we all know – the world is moving incredibly fast, and we are inundated with information. We are expected to keep up with everyone all the time. That is a huge problem, but it is only a piece of the problem. The other might be genetic. I’m no scientist, and definitely no geneticist, but there is some new information coming out about epigenetics that helps explain our inability to calm.

Yogis and other mystics (and yes, the New Age folks) have always known that our ancestral lines play a huge part in our lives today. Shamanism has ways to clear and work with our ancestral lineage. Science is finally catching up and explaining how this happens through epigenetics. If you are really interested, here is a link to the Wikipedia article about epigenetics.  Basically, the idea is that our genes activate in different ways based upon what worked for our ancestors. It makes sense. If your ancestors lived in a place where there were lions everywhere, we had to become acutely aware of threats early in life, or we would die. Of course, what this means today is that we have generations upon generations of suffering, depression, fear, anxiety, etc. expressing itself in our genes, and on top of everything else we live in the most overwhelming cultural environment I can imagine.

Are you relaxed yet?

So, in some ways our bodies have become hard wired to not relaxing. This is a perfect week to point this out with Passover and Easter. Passover is about celebrating overcoming hardship . . . but the hardship came first. Easter is about rebirth . . . but the horrific death came first.  And that death and hardship live on in our cells and our gene expression. So, while yoga nidra is lovely, and yes it’s one of my favorite relaxation techniques, it has to overcome a lot of conditioning.

 As I mentioned before, I have been working a lot on somatic awareness. The goal is to begin to pay attention to the signals our bodies send to us. I have been doing this on some level for over a decade. It really has been my entire time practicing yoga. But these days, I am looking at it differently and really trying to understand it differently. I am also finally starting to notice where I hold tension. Everywhere would be an understatement, but it is useful to know.

What I have found over the past few months is just how intensely difficult it is to really, truly, let go and relax. I may be able to relax one part of my body, but then the rest of it tenses up. I have begun to notice what parts of my body tense when I go to move, and they are not the parts of my body needed to move in that moment. One of the relaxation techniques I left off above is biofeedback. The entire goal is to notice where you are tense, so you know to relax there.

Noticing is the first step. We simply cannot relax until we know where we are tense. Meditation helps us do the exact same thing with the mind. It helps us notice where our mind is tense or racing or confused or whatever, and then just let it go. While the body and mind are simply one entity, for some people it is easier to learn to relax the mind first, and for others it is easier to learn to relax the body.

But at the end of the day, relaxation is more difficult for us than it was 1,000 years ago. The techniques have not changed, but we have to learn to use them more effectively.

True relaxation begins with noticing where our tension patterns lie. As you read this, take a moment and stop. Scan your body. Where is there tension? Where is there no tension? For some of us, the only place without tension is the ear lobe. That is okay. I am starting to believe that is more normal than we would like to admit. Then begin to tell the body it is safe to let go. It is safe to relax the shoulders. It is safe to relax the thigh muscles when you are sitting and lying down. It is safe to relax the core muscles. We have ways to hold ourselves up without tension.

As we begin to allow ourselves to relax, relaxation can come. It may not come immediately, but it can begin to sneak in. It can begin to enter our being and our cells. Relaxation can happen when we notice what is stopping it and consciously let that go. But for that we have to stop. We have to notice. We have to take the time and turn inward. It is, at times, very difficult, but the rewards are endless. Eventually, we will begin to notice the tension and let it go even when we are stressed out at the grocery store or in traffic. When we learn to relax, we can live in this world with more ease and comfort. We can begin to heal, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Relaxation is key to everything. It is so, so simple and yet incredibly difficult.

How do you notice if relaxation is working? What techniques work better for you? Do you notice places you find it impossible to relax? What could you do to relax in those spots?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2014, all rights reserved.
The post, What it Means to Relax Part 2, first appeared on Is Yoga Legal.


Monday, April 14, 2014

What it Means to Relax Part 1

The internet and blogs and books are full of information about the fight, flight, or freeze response and the sympathetic nervous system. My favorite personal writing about it was in response to getting chased by a sea lion in New Zealand. It was a perfect example of the fight, flight, or freeze response done right . . . and for the reason we have the response in the first place. I was being chased by a wild animal, and I had to get away. I got away. What happens, though, when that threat is gone? Can our body go back to its resting state?

The sympathetic nervous system is the part of the nervous system that activates when we are in fight, flight, or freeze. The parasympathetic nervous system is what allows us to relax and heal. It is the “rest and digest” part of the nervous system. It is what allows our body to go into its healing place. As I have mentioned before, the body is capable of healing itself, but in order to do that, it must be in a state of rest.

Chronic stress (of all varieties) has a tendency to keep our bodies in a constant state of the fight, flight, or freeze response without an opportunity to get into the parasympathetic “rest and digest” and heal mode. This, of course, can wreck havoc on our health. And look around at the world and notice how many people deal with chronic dis-ease. Many of us are not living in our parasympathetic state most of the time.

But what does it mean to truly rest? How many of us are able to get into that space? How many of us know what it really feels like to allow the body to release its tension patterns?

Most of us get so used to our tension patterns we do not even realize when we are holding them. Yoga is one of the ways we learn how to go into our bodies and learn to listen to them and find our patterns. The patterns in our body are similar to our mental patterns, called samskaras. Undoing a samskara is not an easy task. It requires knowing it and wanting it to change. But then it also requires unwinding the pattern itself, a task that can seem daunting when we have lived with the samskara longer than we have not. Imagine taking a hike and ask yourself which is easier – the pre-made path or the path never before taken? Imagine cutting down a path to hike, and that is what it takes to release a long-held samskara.

Releasing a tension pattern in the body is no different. We have to first feel the tension patterns and then be willing to release them. But then we have to understand what it takes to relax. We have to trust that when we release the tension, something else will continue to hold our body up.

Tension patterns exist for a reason. Some are there because of how we sit at a desk or in a car. Some are there, however, as a response to the traumas we have faced in our lives. Trauma can come in many forms – childhood abuse, relationship abuse, earthquakes, floods, and even vicarious trauma. When we experience trauma, we tense up to protect ourselves and never let go for fear of not having the strength to stay upright. But those patterns then begin to cause their own problems. Long after they have stopped protecting us from a trauma, they wreck havoc on our bodies and make it difficult to allow the body to relax.

And then we have a three-fold problem. The mental samskaras are the thoughts we hold as a result of our childhood and events in our lives, and they hold the body in tension. Together, they inhibit our parasympathetic nervous system from activating, and we end up with a downward spiral of tension and mental patterns that becomes more and more difficult to overcome, and at the end of the day it is our health (mental, physical, and spiritual) that suffers. Our ability to heal is diminished until we learn to bypass these tension patterns.

I want to be clear. We never lose the ability to heal. We inhibit our body’s access to its healing capabilities. And it is because we are literally stuck in a rut and trying to pull ourselves out. But this can be overcome, and deep within us we never lose the ability to heal ourselves. The parasympathetic nervous system is always there, and it is always able to function if we give it the time and quiet to do it.

But instead we hold our tension patterns. We live in a world with nearly constant overwhelm. There are more forms of pollution today than ever before. We have chemical pollutions, of course, but we also have noise, news, and phone pollution. We have stress of constantly being connected, and we have the stress of trying to keep up as the world moves faster and faster and faster.

But amidst it all, relaxation is still possible. We can find a way to release the tension in the body and allow our body to enter its natural healing state. But we have to be willing to surrender. We have to be willing to trust that when we let go, the body, and therefore ourselves, will be safe. We hear so often how the body and the mind are connected. I do not actually subscribe to that mentality. In my worldview, they are simply the same thing. The more I read in scientific, not new age, literature, the more true that statement is.

So tension is tension, whether mental or physical. They are one and the same. Our brains run our bodies, and together they create health or dis-ease. So, today I ask you to notice your mental patterns. Notice your physical tension patterns. Where are they? What do they mean? And then ask yourself the all-important question. In this world of constant overwhelm, are you willing to release these patterns to find calm and health? Part 2 will have some ideas for learning these techniques.

Namaste!

©Rebecca Stahl 2014, all rights reserved

The post, What it Means to Relax Part 1, first appeared on Is Yoga Legal.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Easier Said Than Done


I have not posted in weeks. It has been years since I have gone this long without posting. But really, I did not know what to say. Back surgery recovery is going much slower than expected, and this is a blog about how yoga can help in life. But some days, that is easier said than done.

Breathing has been hard these past few weeks. Taking a deep breath actually hurts at times, and the fear that it will hurt stops me at other times. And yet breathing is exactly what calms the nerves, the very things causing the pain in the first place. And sometimes the fear just takes over, and the breath falls away.  

But there are moments when it comes back. There are moments when I talk to others I know in the legal community. In fact, over the past week, I have run into two people I know through yoga, and just their “coincidental” presence in my life has been soothing.

Healing takes time. While in some ways I am a very patient person, these past few months have shown anything but my patient side. Even when driving, or perhaps especially when driving, I find myself getting upset at the other drivers on the road and even yelling out loud at them. The daily stresses of life take over, and the calm, centered awareness of breath falls away.

Sometimes, it is simply easier said than done.

But the doing is absolutely vital. Taking that breath, and tuning in to what is underlying the stress and the anxiety is the most vital thing we can do to heal and move beyond our daily stress. It is very easy for people to say, “Just breathe.” I have been known to say it myself on occasion. But that simple statement presumes that taking a breath is going to be easy. It presumes that our stress does not feel stronger than the ability to breathe.

But sometimes the pain and the stress feel more powerful. Sometimes they take us to points we had no idea we could go. That does not mean that a breath is a bad idea. It just may mean it is the scariest thing we can do at the moment.

These past few weeks especially I have noticed how tight my belly muscles are, and not in the six-pack sort of way. Instead it is in the “I cannot take a deep belly breath” sort of way. Breathing too deeply into the lower belly, where every yoga teacher I have ever had says to focus the breath, is exactly across from the incision in my back. That is a very physical manifestation of the fear that sometimes arises when taking a deep breath. Going into the places our breath can take us can be scary. And that is why it is sometimes easier said than done to take our deepest breaths.

So what do we do in those moments? I do not know anyone that has never had them. I think the lesson I have had to learn the most is that it is actually okay to be in that space. It is okay to be afraid to take a breath sometimes.

My yoga practice both made that awareness difficult and possible. As a yoga teacher, I have this vision of myself that I should always be able to take a deep breath and relax. And as a yoga teacher, I know that it is important to accept ourselves exactly as we are in the moment. Only one of those is “right” in the sense that it comports with the truth of the universe. It is, of course, the latter of the two statements. But there is always the nagging former statement – the one where we try to live up to expectations that simply do not comport with reality.

As I sit here writing this I am actually breathing better than I have on my own in weeks. There is still hesitation as the breath moves into the back body. I would be lying if I said I am totally okay with it, but it is true that I am aware of it and learning to accept it. I am also learning to understand it.

Sometimes taking a breath is the most difficult thing we can do. But then you realize that accepting that fact is even more difficult. It is with the acceptance, however, that the breath becomes possible once again.

What do you do when the breath does not come? What arises for you when you struggle with the breath?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2013, all rights reserved.

Monday, July 9, 2012

It Sounds So Easy . . . Just Relax!

One of the many benefits people ascribe to yoga is relaxation. Even people who consider yoga physical exercise (and it can be) recognize that hopefully all yoga classes end with savasana, corpse pose. Many classes also begin with breath or with slower, meditative asana. It is a reminder to begin by going inward. Some classes, particularly restorative and yin classes, are particularly devoted to relaxation.


One of the most common statements I hear from people who go to yoga is, "I just feel so relaxed." Unfortunately, other common statements I hear from many people is, "I just don't know how to relax" or "I can never seem to relax no matter how hard I try."

One of the toughest asana lessons to fully comprehend, on the deepest levels, is that it is possible to relax in a posture even when it feels like every muscle is going to give out. That is another yoga paradox. It is a nice lesson for off the mat as well. We learn to find the calm amidst the storm. Thus, from deep breathing and restorative poses to intense and energetic asana, yoga is about finding the relaxation deep within us. And it is there for all of us. The difficulty is finding it.

How many times have you tried to relax and simply could not? Right now, do a quick body scan. Where are you holding tension? Your jaw? Your eyes? Your neck? Your shoulders? Are you able to relax those areas holding the tension?

Our modern world does not provide us the tools to learn how to relax. It does, however, provide us the tools to know how to be stressed out. We are expected to go, go, go, and when we finally stop, we are too exhausted to relax. We simply collapse. The tension continues, and headaches, low back pain, and bad knees result. We cover these aches and pains with medication hoping they will go away until the day the pain becomes so unbearable we have to decide between going over the daily dosage for a pill and actually learning to relax.

It sounds kind of funny, does it not? Learning to relax? Should we not already know how to relax? Is it not part of who we are? I think many of us have forgotten. It took me years of yoga practice before I could finally find moments of relaxation, and there are days, sometimes weeks, when I feel that I can no longer find it – even while practicing yoga.

What does it mean to truly relax?

It means more than sitting in front of the tv and vegging out. It means more than stalking people on facebook. It even means more than sleeping. Relaxing, paradoxically, is something we have to take time to do. It has to be done with intention. It is a time when we let our tense muscles release, our thoughts slow down, or at least no longer control us, and our bodies rejuvenate.

Restorative yoga is not designed to put us to sleep. It is actually designed to wake us up. Restorative yoga, like all relaxation practices, is designed to allow our bodies to come down from the constant fight-or-flight response and heal from the over abundance of adrenaline and cortisol. When we fall asleep, it is less a sign of deep relaxation than a sign of overwhelm.

So how do we train ourselves to relax again? It takes some time, but it can be done. We learn to pay attention. When we find ourselves reaching for the painkillers, take a moment and ask if it is possible to relax the muscles causing the pain. Sometimes just bringing awareness to the tension and consciously breathing into it will release it enough to decrease the pain. Sometimes we need to take a walk in nature or sit by the pool or sit on a yoga mat.

But we need to take time to relax. To truly relax. And of course, the days when it seems most difficult are the days we need it the most. There have been many times I have wanted to just sit in front of my computer (I do not have a television) and read facebook posts, but my entire being drags me to my mat. Those are usually the most deeply gratifying practices of them all. And sometimes they only last ten minutes, but those ten minutes of conscious relaxation are worth hours of productivity and health down the road.

The more moments like those we add to our lives, the easier it is to remember how to relax. It may take some time, but it is within each of us. 

Do you remember how to relax? What are your tools? Where do you hold your tension?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Why the Honeymoon Ends


The last post examined the difference between the honeymoon phase of yoga and the learning curve phase of a new job. But it only examined one reason the honeymoon phase ends for yoga – the magic disappears. I definitely think that happens for some people, but I think there is something more, and something yoga teachers need to make more explicit.

The relationship analogy with yoga is interesting. It is also perfect. Yoga is a way to begin a relationship with ourselves. That is something we are not trained to do in most modern cultures. It is probably the most difficult relationship we will ever have, and it will define our relationships with others.

The honeymoon starts for a few reasons. First, yoga can feel really great! It is an incredible stress reducer. It can help alleviate pain and tension, including pain and tension we did not know we had. It is a great break from the craziness of the modern world. It is a moment of silence in our otherwise loud and intense lives. Of course there is a honeymoon phase! It is the only break some of us ever get.

But why would it then end?

First, the excitement goes away. When something stops being new, it stops being as interesting. Thus, while the wonderful effects of yoga remain, the excitement about those effects diminish. Second, it can be difficult to continue to get on the mat every day, or even a few times per week. Busy takes over again, and we forget how great yoga can make us feel on so many levels.

But there is something deeper, and it goes back to why the relationship analogy is so great. Yoga deepens our relationship with who we are. That can be wonderful, but it can also be frightening. Many, if not most, of us do a wonderful job blocking out parts of ourselves we do not like. We push them away, so we never have to deal with them. Instead of facing these parts of ourselves, we often just get annoyed with others who manifest them instead.

On the mat, or on the meditation cushion, we stop being able to run away from ourselves. Our physical blocks become apparent, but so do our emotional and spiritual blocks. For many people, that is the moment where the honeymoon phase ends. It stops feeling like paradise when we have to see ourselves in all our being-ness.

But just like any relationship, that is the moment where it is most important to keep going. That is the moment where we decide whether it is worth it to remain. We know there may be some hardships, but the payoffs are so, so much better. Knowing ourselves on our deepest level gives us the strength and courage to face all of life’s difficulties. When we know who we are, and when we have faced our own personal angels and demons, we know that what the external world sends our way, we can handle. We can handle it because of the tools we learn on the mat. First, thought, we have to learn those tools.

Thus, the honeymoon phase will end for most people. I know of no one who has practiced for more than a few months that has not had that day they just do not want to get on the mat. I know of very few people who have not laughed or cried on the mat. And I know of very few people who, after continuing to show up for the practice, do not thank themselves for doing it.

Yoga may not cure every ill we have. Some days it may feel as though it is doing nothing more than bringing them to the surface. But when they come to the surface, we can look them squarely in the face and deal with them. The island paradise feeling may disappear, but over the long haul, yoga helps us build our relationship with ourselves solidly enough to build our relationships with each other and the world.

That sounds better than a 2-week honeymoon to me. How about to you?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved. 

Saturday, February 11, 2012

The Body as Teacher


I have mentioned before that I went into yoga teacher training hoping to go deeper into yoga teachings. I used to scoff, somewhat, at the role asana plays in yoga. Sure, I thought, postures are important, but the real yoga is meditation and the changes it brings to our spirits, not our bodies.

But yoga teacher training changed all that. Not only did I learn about the koshas, and how yogis have always described how our bodies are one pathway to learning about the deeper aspects of ourselves, but I also experienced it myself. Sure, I always had known that our hips hold our emotions, and working with hips will often bring people to tears of laughter or tears of sorrow, but I had never, somehow, equated this to acknowledging the deepest potential of asana, or the postures.

(Ok, a quick aside – the real reason is because I got caught up in the feeling that the 100% asana-focused practice of modern, American yoga is not real yoga, so I had to rebel against that. I have since softened my belief structure around that, and I know, and have always known, that we can never remove the body from the rest of our being, but yeah, I got caught in that American yoga vs. “real” yoga debate.)

In some ways, it is silly that I never acknowledged this deep connection. After all, I have always understood how the body is one of the first indicators of our deeper sanity and being. I still believe the breath is our greatest teacher, but the body is like its right-hand man. And if you want proof, look at your colleagues. Look at yourself. I would wager a fairly large bet you already know this.

I’m going to use myself as an example these past few weeks. Prior to the past two weeks, the last time I was sick for more than a day, maybe two, was two years ago, and that lasted about three days. It turns out it was a cold or allergies. I cannot remember the last time I got the flu, if ever, and I had not experienced stress-related stomach anxiety since the bar exam. (To be honest, I do not remember that, but someone else does, so knowing what I know about memory, I will go with hers.) Prior to that, the last time I felt it was in college. Growing up, my stomach was a pretty solid indicator of my stress levels. And I had a lot of stomach issues. I was, apparently, a stressed-out kid. I will spare you the details of my last two weeks, but let's just say, my body has informed me that I am a wee bit stressed.

So once again, yoga and the law have taught me the same lessons as two sides of the same coin. Yoga helped me move beyond the stress-response in my body, and I was rarely, if ever, sick, and the law brought me right back to what was always underneath it all. I have learned three things from this, and I think they are worth sharing with anyone out there who notices these issues.

First, I really do love my job. It is difficult, scary, and stressful, but I get to do work I hope is useful, and I work with some of the most amazing people I know. Not only do I like them, but I truly and deeply respect them. I work in a system that needs serious healing, but it is also a system in which everyone there is working to make it better. It may not be perfect yet, and probably never will be, but everyone cares, and that is a huge step in the right direction. Why does loving the work matter? Because I am willing to find ways to work within it rather than run away at 100 miles per hour and never looking back. 

Second, the body is a teacher. Yes, I knew this. Yes, I was listening. And yes, I was also ignoring the signs. I had work to do. And the downward spiral began. It ended in the same stomach anxiety I had not experienced in years. It resulted in headaches and a sore back. These are all the complaints of modern America. But these are complaints I had not been making myself for years. And that brings me to the third lesson.

Yoga works. Yep, it has been all over the news that yoga can cause physical pain. And guess what? I agree 100%!!! There is a reason I never teach headstands in my classes or even shoulderstands unless I know the students and know they are safe doing them. There are many, many days I do not do either because I know my body is not up for it. So, yes, yoga can cause harm . . . when done without care and attention. But when we tune in and listen, yoga works. We can use the body to calm the mind and the mind to ease the body. The back pain, headaches, and anxiety can begin to be calmed. Are they going to disappear forever? Probably not. When I was a camp counselor, our boss once said, we could easily prevent all the children from ever getting hurt by having them sit inside in a circle all day. But would that be camp? Nope. So we had to find a happy medium – keep the kids as safe as possible, but also let them be kids.

Our own lives are the same. We could do nothing and be safe, calm, and pain free. Or we can live life and learn to live it in a way that is as safe and calm and pain-free as possible each moment. The body is a great indicator, and one that yoga can help. When the body is in a state of pain, it is in a state of dis-ease. By learning to recognize the signs early, hopefully we can keep ourselves free of deeper disease.

How have you noticed this in your life?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved. 

Friday, November 18, 2011

Getting Away for Real


Last week, I went on my first backpacking (called tramping in New Zealand) trip. It was on a track that the New Zealand Department of Conservation deems is the “most beautiful track in the world,” the Milford Track. I have no way to determine that, but I can say that it was absolutely amazing.

All sorts of things could have gone wrong. Along the track, you sleep in huts with anywhere from 8-20 other people in a room with you. The region, Fiordland, gets around 200 days of rain per year, snow can appear on Christmas Day (the middle of the summer in New Zealand), and when it rains, it can really, really rain. I heard stories of people trudging through water up to their chests, having to be taken off the track in a helicopter, and having to spend several hours in non-sleeping huts because it was too unsafe to leave. And to add to my fears, my ankle is still sore from a year-old injury, and based upon a 10-hour hike my friend and I did two days before we set out for the tramp, my knee was not loving me either.

But I refused to allow the fear and concern to control my thoughts. Instead, I have been “practicing” for this track all year long. I have gone out in the rain without being upset about it. I have done long hikes up beautiful mountain passes. I have been sleeping in dorm rooms in hostels. And I have been meditating and doing yoga, mentally preparing to look on the bright side and just go with whatever happens.

We had amazing weather. The other hikers were awesome. And I even did not get too badly attacked by the sandflies (think mosquitoes but even more annoying). For four glorious days, I let the vacation responder answer my emails. I told my family and friends where I would be. I went offline . . . for real.

And I was rewarded with this:


The final point on the track. We made it!


Tree Pose at the top of the pass!


Mountains and bush and fields. It was absolutely amazing!


I got off the track and wanted nothing to do with my email, and nothing to do with facebook. I had over 800 unread items in my Google Reader, but I did not care. The world did not fall apart while I was not paying attention. Certainly things happened, and there was news that interested me upon my return to civilization, but I finally found the perspective to completely turn off.

It felt amazing.

There is no question that people are asked and expected to be constantly connected. We liken our phones to addictive drugs (crackberries). It is no secret that I struggle with this. I have struggled with my addictionto the news (and let’s be honest, to facebook as well), and my fear of going offline. I was so worried about being disconnected that I gave my parents specific instructions on how to get in touch with me if something went drastically wrong.

But as I finished the last few miles of the track, I found myself not even concerned about what my inbox held. Of course, I opened it up and found all sorts of junk mail and a few great emails. I learned about the news I had “missed.” I even signed into facebook and saw that one of my friends had a baby.

Interestingly, I am still traveling. I am now in Auckland and attending the New Zealand Family Law Conference beginning on Sunday. I will be traveling quite a bit after that. I’m less concerned now with how I will stay connected. Instead, I’m searching for hikes and ways to get away. I leave New Zealand in just over three weeks, and I will be back to work before the end of 2011. But thinking about that takes away from my enjoyment of today.

On the track, I had to constantly remind myself to be there and not in my head about conferences, child abuse, and international travel. There is no doubt that my mind wandered away from the New Zealand bush and mountains, but being completely offline and totally away gave me some perspective on the addictive lives we lead. Surprisingly, my shoulders have never felt as relaxed as they felt carrying a 40-pound pack over 3,000 feet over a mountain pass in gale-force winds.

How often do you turn off? How often do you get away? Do you let yourself? What have you learned when you have?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2011, all rights reserved. 

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Ten Years On . . . Holding Community


I know the internet is full of commentary about September 11, and the 10-year anniversary. To be honest, I did not want to add to it. But then my heart told me I must. On my blog about my life in New Zealand, I wrote about the odd feeling of the world coming together for the Rugby World Cup, yet feeling like an outsider as an American in New Zealand on the anniversary of that day. Ironically, the United States Eagles Rugby team plays its first match on 9/11, though I guess it will only be 9/10 back in the United States. Still, something does not feel right about that. Here is an interesting link to two of the players discussing playing on the anniversary.

Ten years ago, I was a sophomore in college. I had never done yoga. I swore I would never be a lawyer. I embodied everything about stress and had not experienced the world outside US borders for more than three weeks. Since that day, yoga and the law have come to dominate my life, and I have lived abroad for nearly two years. I spent 6 months in Aix-en-Provence, France (during which time the United States invaded Iraq) and 7 months in Dreux, France (during which time the United States reelected President Bush), and now eight months and counting in New Zealand (during which time the United States killed Osama Bin Laden).  

So what, you ask? What does all of this have to do with yoga? What does it have to do with law? What does it have to do with living a more balanced life in the modern world? Everything!

The attacks on September 11, 2001 have defined the vast majority of my adult life. The death of Osama Bin Laden showed me just how tense and scared that time has been. Yoga has taught me much over the past 9+ years, but one of the most profound lessons has been that we must recognize the interconnectedness of humanity. On this blog, I have discussed this as community. Ironically, on this 9/11 anniversary I feel more alone than I have ever felt (this is the first time I have been away from the United States on 9/11).

A part of me yearns to be among many other Americans, rather than 2 or 3, who remember that day. A part of me yearns to tell my friends here, whether Kiwi, Malaysian, English, or Argentinean, how confused and vulnerable I felt, we all felt. A part of me yearns to explain how that fear became misguided arrogance, but that I also felt relief, sadness, and again confusion, when Osama Bin Laden was killed.

But I hear the responses before I open my mouth. I hear people remind me about Guantanamo. I hear people remind me about the drone attacks in Pakistan. I hear people remind me about the tens of thousands of civilians (and military) that have died in Iraq and Afghanistan. I do not know how to express that I see both visions to people in each camp. 

I do not know if people are willing to accept that there are layers and layers to these stories and that sharing them does not mean that any other layer is less important. Few people seem willing to hold the many layers. Few people are willing to struggle and see that no single vision is “right.”

I do not remember if I cried on September 11, 2001. I would like to think I did, but shock and confusion may have prevented it. But yoga has also taught me to open, and trust, my heart. It has taught me to truly feel what others feel, from the jubilation of the Rugby World Cup opening to the pain and horror that people describe in places like Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iraq. I have learned to see fear spiral into its own unimaginable consequences of war and destruction. But that does not mean the fear is not palpable and real. The vision of the planes flying into the Twin Towers now brings tears nearly every time. But so does the vision of Iraqis. So does the thought of the soldiers who have died. All of these events are tragic in their own right.

This theme of being “right” has made its way onto this blog before, as a play on words about being careful before crossing the street in New Zealand where they drive on the “wrong” side of the road. But this time the stakes are higher. This time it means understanding that September 11, 2001 was an awful day. It means understanding that other countries experience their own horrors and war on a daily basis. It means understanding that the United States has made many mistakes over the past 10 years.

Recognizing all of these does not undermine any of them. Disaster breeds community. We saw it on 9/11/2001. We saw it after the Christchurch and Japanese earthquakes. We see it anytime some event shocks us out of our sleep and reminds us that we are connected and together. I hope that this anniversary can remind us of the next step in that process. There is no single story to explain who we are and no single story to explain any event.

Some days it is nearly impossible to hold all these stories, to hold onto so many different visions of the world. But that is when yoga provides its most important, and simplest lesson; come back to the breath. Come back to the breath and let the thoughts and craziness swirl around the head for a moment. Then let it settle. At the end of the day, we do not need to make sense of it all. We simply need to remember that we are all in this together, ready to share our stories.

I hope this time of reflection provides you with a feeling of community and a little bit of peace. I hope we can hear each others’ stories and hold them all with a sense of togetherness and comfort. I hope we can remember that when we think we cannot hear another layer that we remember to come back to the breath and remember that we can, and will, grow together.

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Lost Memories


I have trouble remembering things. I have very few solid memories of my childhood, and sometimes I forget conversations with friends last week. I have a feeling I am going to be one of those people who tells the same story several times to the same person because I can never remember if I told it before.

I have a friend, however, who remembers everything. She can remember what her family ate on a vacation 20 years ago. I know that when I need to remember an event in college, I can ask her. These past few years, I have thought about this a lot and wondered why some people have great memories and others do not. 

Moreover, it is not as simple as saying that I have a bad memory because that is not true. For some reason I can remember case law and case names, but I cannot remember the incredible adventures I have taken around the world. For that, I take photos. And I take a ton of photos – over 3000 since arriving in New Zealand in January. I want to remember. Traveling around the north island with new friends when I arrived, one of them did not take a lot of photos. Instead, he said, “I am remembering it.” I tried. Then I whipped out the camera. I did not want to forget. 


Of course, some photos were to share asana with the rainforest and prove that I was really doing Tree Pose Around the World.

But recently, especially through yoga, I have found my memories. They are not in my brain. They are in my muscles. When doing asana, I often have memories of these trips, memories of the past, even memories of my childhood. I remember things I thought I had forgotten. 

When you Google muscle memory, you get information about golf swings. After all, the best golfers use the memory of a previous game to play today. But that is not the muscle memory I mean. We actually store memories in our muscles. Emotions as well.  

At its simplest, pain is energy that is stuck in the body. Along with that stuck energy is the memory of what caused it to be stuck. When I started yoga teacher training, I was angry at the way yoga had become so body-centric in the United States. It was not until I began to truly understand the body and its knowledge that I learned to love asana for its ability to help us go deeper. When I learned about the koshas, I finally understood. Our bodies are the gateway to our inner selves.

But that means we have to deal with our bodies. We hold these memories in the body for any number of reasons. Often it is because we do not want to deal with them. Stress, something with which modern society is intimately associated, is our number one muscle memory. Headaches, lower back pain, and tight hips can all come from stress. With that pain, however, is the memory of that stress. Releasing the stress in the body can release those emotions and memories.

I hope it is obvious from the previous 100 posts that I think yoga is an amazing tool for handling our modern lives. It has so much to teach us from breathing techniques, to meditation techniques, to new ways to use and understand our bodies. But I also think that we need to be conscious of what it means to begin to tune in to these new ways of seeing the world. It means opening up memories we have stored. It means facing emotions we placed in our bodies, so our brains could forget them.

Western medicine and society are finally discussing the mind-body-spirit connection. What we hold in our bodies affects the mind and spirit, and around the triangle we can go. Recognizing this is an important step when integrating yoga into our daily lives. It is important because we must be aware that some days remembering is going to be difficult. Some days, yoga can make us more anxious.

The good news is that yoga also gives us the tools for handling those moments. When we notice a memory or emotion come up, breathe through it. There is nothing inherently good or bad about memories; they are just stored, and when we let them go, we can simply watch them and let the pain/tension dissipate. Several months ago, I posted a link to a story about how meditation can help decrease pain. I believe that our muscles as memory storage is the major reason why that is.

Of course, our memories are fallible, but that is a topic for the next post.

Do you notice memories arise during yoga? Do you ever notice a pattern to them?

Namaste.

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Sunday, May 22, 2011

The Deep Sigh


Breath! The breath is the foundation of our lives. It is the foundation of yoga. It is our greatest teacher. When we learn to understand our breath, it can tell us that we are stressed or that we are calm. It can tell us whether the air is thick or thin or whether it is cold and dry or humid and warm. Ask any person who has had an asthma attack, and they will tell you that the breath is a scary thing to lose.

And yet, with its abundant importance, how many of us actually pay attention to the breath? How many of us stop and recognize that we breath in and out thousands of times per day? How many of us recognize when we are holding our breaths? 

Were you holding it while reading those sentences?

Yes, the breath happens automatically (at least when all systems in the body are functioning, it happens automatically). You cannot die simply by holding your breath because as soon as you pass out, the breath will come automatically. This is because the body simply cannot survive without oxygen. My non-scientific search of the internet reveals that the brain starts to lose brain cells after 3 minutes without oxygen, and brain death occurs somewhere between 6 and 10 minutes without oxygen. 

For something so important to our being, you would think we would spend more time thinking about it, right? Certainly, we have covered this territory on this blog before – once about just stopping to take a breath, once as a lesson on the koshas, and once about overcoming pain (and a few more less-specific times). Today, however, let us focus on the exhale. Let us focus on a specific type of exhale – the sigh, the deep sigh.

Have you ever heard someone sigh? Have they done it in the middle of a conversation? What is your reaction? Do you think you have bored the person? I have noticed this many times, but one person used to do it more than anyone I know – my grandfather. I used to think I was boring him, but then I started doing yoga. He lived almost completely healthily until he was 89 years old. Maybe he knew something the rest of us were missing.

Yoga classes often start with the breath. Sometimes teachers instruct everyone to sigh together - a collective exhale. The result is almost humorous. The teacher will say, “inhale deeply, then audibly sigh and exhale.” I know my hearing is not great, but the result is sometimes almost eery silence. I notice it even more when I am teaching (because as a student, I am usually sighing too loudly to hear the others not sigh). Sometimes by the third repetition, after hearing the teacher’s sigh 2 times, the students join in, and sighs permeate the room. It is quite a sound, and energy, to behold.

Why are we so afraid to make our breath heard? Are we afraid to let go? Are we afraid that a sigh is a sign that we are overwhelmed? Are we afraid to share that with others?

Yes, the breath can teach us a lot. When it is constricted and short, we are often stressed and overwhelmed. Thus, we need to release that constriction and make space for the breath to flow more fully. What better way than a deep, audible sigh? Although it has a bad connotation to many of us, deep sighing is one of the easiest, quickest, and healthiest ways to overcome moments of exasperation. That is why people do it in those moments. The breath is reminding us that we are stressed and need to let go.

So why not do it purposefully? Take a moment – right now – and take a deep inhale. Then exhale deeply and let out a big sigh. If you are worried about the people around you, you can close the door or invite them along. I think it is time for us to stop fearing the sigh and embrace it. We can use it to our advantage, and as we open up to the possibility of the sigh, we can open up our lungs to breathe more deeply and fully and find ways to let go of some of the tension that has been building in our systems for years.

Do you enjoy sighing? Are you willing to do it in public? Do you feel better once you can let that tension release?

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Tension, Tension, Tension and Release


This blog began as a result of an epiphany I had during savasana – lawyers need this. By this, I meant the feeling of calm and centeredness that I was experiencing at that moment. Sure, that feeling often dissipates the moment the mat is rolled up, but that is the point of this blog – to see if there are ways we can learn to find that sense of calm in everyday life.

Although I knew it at the time, I have since come to realize how much of the lawyer experience is just the experience of the 21st century . . . to an extreme. There is no better example than tension and stress. Today, the word lawyer is almost synonymous with stress. I have conversations with people, see facebook posts, read comments on other blogs, all that say, “next week/month, things will calm down, and I will be able to relax.” We all know this is not what happens. Instead, new tasks come to our desk, and new problems arrive in our lives.

The tension mounts. We keep hoping and expecting to have a release, a day of calm, a vacation, and we allow the tension to permeate our lives until the moment we can finally let go.

The world saw this in action on Sunday night. For nearly ten years, the tension of a nation built. It was underlying everything, and for most of us we did not feel it explicitly, but it defined our actions. It also turned us against each other. People were “hard” or “soft” on their views, “with us or against us.” It sounded like lawyer speak, the adversarial model on a grand scheme. And the tension just mounted and mounted.

And then the "release" – Osama Bin Laden had been killed. In a moment, the entire country exhaled. Some would say the world did as well, but my experience of New Zealand is that it was important but not as important as for Americans. The tension that had defined the United States did not permeate the entire world (though it certainly existed outside US borders). I saw a poster that said, "9 years, 232 days since 9-11, where is Osama bin Laden," but the bin was covered by dead. There was no doubt that he defined a significant part of the narrative for the past decade to Americans.

And with that release of tension, we saw jubilation in the streets. Upon reflection, people realized that those dancing in the streets were mostly college students – the only people awake enough on a Sunday night to be partying, and the people most excited about a party, for any reason really. That night, and certainly the next day, people began to question whether such jubilation was a proper response. People were so quick to retract the jubilation that Martin Luther King, Jr. was attributed a new quote. But that dancing showed us what happens when we hold onto our tension, when we let it define us, when we ignore it hoping upon hope that a moment will come when “things will get better.” We act in ways we might not act if we had the time to reflect rather than react.

The problem is that the moment of exhale and release passes, and we go back to where we were. Another tension comes into our lives. Within minutes, before President Obama’s announcement in fact, people were already asking whether this would mean an increase in terrorism in the short term. Even when we go on vacation, we dread the extra work we will have when we return because we have not addressed it while “relaxing.” When we live to release tension at some future venture, it never really leaves us. 

This constant tension and waiting to exhale leads us to do things we would rather not do. For lawyers, it leads to the downward spiral of email, but it can lead to fights with our families and friends, missed opportunities of happiness, and a sense that we hate our jobs and even our lives.

Lawyers are great at that. This year has seen a few BigLaw partners committing suicide, and we know that lawyers lead professions in substance abuse. So what do we do about it?

Tension is always going to exist. The work is going to keep coming, and the world is going to keep throwing us lemons (or terrorists). If we hold out for a time when we expect that tension to release, we are going to act crazy along the way and probably the moment the bubble bursts. We need to find tools in our daily lives to release that tension. Breathing and savasana are two great tools, but there are others.

The first step, however, is to recognize when you are putting all your tension-releasing eggs in one vacation basket and ask yourself if there is a way to release your tension before then. 

What do you do when you find the tension mounting? Do you expect it to get better next week? Do you take a break? Do you take a breath? Do you ignore it?

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved