Reflection

I sat on top of Mount Doug last night next to the woman I love most in the world, my mum. We sat next to each on the hard bedrock breathing in the ocean air that always hovers around Victoria. Mount Baker stood tall and white capped far across the Juan De Fuca Strait. The Gulf Islands lay peaceful covered in Douglas fir and cedar trees. The ocean was so calm it gleamed up at us like an ice covered lake. The mountains to the west were coloured like a Roger Dean painting in purples, mauves and blues that only ever exist in my dreams. A fog hung low to the south east blanketing the Olympic mountains, giving them the appearance of small hills.

We were on top of the highest point in Victoria to watch the sun set behind the mountains and the full moon rise through the blanket of fog simultaneously.

As I took in the beauty surrounding me I couldn't help reflecting on where I was a year ago. 

A year ago, the sun didn't shine for me. I lived under a constant gray cloud that drizzled on me even in my dreams. When the rainy clouds of November arrived, it didn't faze me at all. Mum remembers asking me to go watch this natural phenomenon last year and I didn't want to. It is amazing what emotions and depression can do to you. How powerful these emotions are, how they take control of your mind and rule your life. To be fair to myself, last year was very difficult and I have come out the other side a stronger, calmer, more compassionate person.

With the help of my yoga teachers and my asana, pranayama and meditation practice, the most valuable thing I have learned in the last year is how to practice mindfulness in my life. I am learning how my mind works and how to be more conscious of my thoughts. In Brené Brown's book, The Gifts of Imperfection, she defines mindfulness:

"Mindfulness requires that we not "over-identify" with thoughts and feelings, so that we are caught and swept away by negativity."

For myself, mindfulness has become a very useful tool when it comes to my emotions. Emotions are triggered by things that occur around us or memories that we experience. I have always been an emotional person, I experience my emotions very strongly. Through my life they have often debilitated me to the point that I couldn't get out of bed or they would consume me so much that I could not focus on anything else. I have learned how to allow myself to feel the emotions, to breathe them in completely, wallow in them if I need to, accept them and then to detach from them. They do not define who I am, they are only something I need to feel in order to truly experience what I need to so that I can process what is occurring in my life. This is by no means easy. I work with this every day. I practice it everyday. 

Some people need to learn how to calm different parts of their mind. It could be learning how to still the constant monologue that occurs while you are practicing yoga. It could be becoming aware of when you are constantly planning the future, that you are existing in the future so much that you forget how beautiful the moment of now can be.

Something powerful happens when you learn to control your thoughts. You learn to have compassion for yourself and others. You discover there is space in your life for peace. Listening becomes something you want to do. You begin to take responsibility for your own hang ups. And the biggest thing for me has been that I am learning to let go of having to control everything all of the time.

The sun turned bright red as it dipped behind the mountains and the moon rose serenely out the fog and into the azure blue of the sky. I couldn't help but think that this is what life is like. Sometimes we shine brightly and with great power like the July sun and other times we rise graciously and calmly knowing the power we hold exists deep within us, it need only be given a chance to shine. 

As Mum and I walked down the mountain I felt so grateful for my life. These priceless moments, the hardships and the amazing people are so precious, I must have won the lottery in a past life.

Practice Brings Strength

I lay on my back. Yoga towel underneath me. Knees bent. Feet on my mat. Hands on my stomach. Eyes closed. Letting my mind run away with all the thoughts and feelings I've been experiencing the last few days. Anger and sadness. Exhaustion.

Out of nowhere I hear Harmony's voice, breaking me out of my cloud of despair.
"Juliana, what's going on? Keep going."
"I'm only doing half primary today." I whispered back.
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing I'm just doing half primary today."
She gazed at me with her intense blue eyes and walked away.

I closed my eyes and started with little bridge. I pressed my feet into the mat, lifted my hips, drew my shoulder blades together.  I took a deep breath. And then something came over me. I rolled up. Came down into chaturanga and continued into my next asana. And the next and the next until I had completed my entire practice.

As I stood up and dropped back into back bends. I thought, if I can do this I can do anything.

Learning how to focus on one thing has given me the power to pull myself away from my brooding mind. Learning how to practice with intention and calmness, with grace and humility, with acceptance for what is has taught me how to forgive myself.

If I can take my crazy thoughts and accept them for being there and then continue on with what I choose to do, if I can find one pointed focus during my practice then the rest of the day will be easy.

In Paschimottanasana, a seated forward fold that is done after back bends, Harmony lay on top of my back and squished me, deepening the contrast from the back bends.
I whispered, "Thank you for questioning me."
She laughed quietly and said, "You're stronger than you think."

We are all stronger than we think are. 

Strength resides in us all.

Why I Love My Practice

As I inhaled, held my legs firmly together, lifted my hips, kept my toes firmly planted on the ground and my gaze (dristi) rested on the tip of my nose I realized I'd forgotten two standing poses.  Two!  Utthita Hasta Pandangussthasana and Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana slipped away from my practice as I gazed out the window at the waving trees and the blowing snow.

This is the beauty of a personal practice.  You are your own teacher.  You are forever responsible for keeping your mind in the present moment.  There is no voice to remind you which asana comes next.  There is no teacher gently calling you back into the room.  There are no other bodies to watch and compare yourself to.  You need to be fully present and aware of each movement, each breath or you will forget asanas and possibly lose your balance and fall on your ass.

This is why I am falling in love with the traditional Ashtanga yoga method, the mysore method.  I practice a few days a week in a yoga room full of people who are in all sorts of different stages of their asana practice.  Some start at 6 am, some at 7:30.  Some are just beginning and are learning the sequence of the poses and spend time working with the teaching.  Some are working right through the primary series and have been given a pranayama practice.  The teacher walks around the room observing and assisting.  Sometimes encouraging students with physical assistance, sometimes by voice alone.  The yoga room always feels peaceful yet is never quiet.  You hear people breathing, mats squeaking, feet sticking to the wood floors.  Sometimes the room thunders when someone falls from an arm balancing pose.  It is a perfect example how silence and sound can exist in harmony.

I feel welcome whenever I walk in.  I am greeted by the teacher, whether it be a smile as they help someone twist into an asana or a pat on the back and how are you today.  Some days I get many corrections, many assists in poses.  Some days I am left completely alone except for a voice from the other side of the room telling me to lift my heart as I stretch forward.

The days that I don't get myself to the yoga studio, I practice in my living room.  This is especially useful on days when the weather is so gross out I don't want to leave the house.  The mysore method has taught me that I am able to practice yoga anywhere I can.  I have learned to remember what I was told in the studio.  I have been able to become more aware of myself.  I am able to take the peace and tranquility that I find in a led class or a mysore class and bring it right into my very own living room.  This is a gift that I would never trade for the world.  The gift of self discovery and practice.  The gift of learning how to find your own peace.  I am truly grateful to be a student of yoga and to be consistently learning and growing within my self.