could those be roots I feel?

I've been up and down ladders and scooting around dusty floors with a paintbrush in hand for the last week, helping to ready Laughing Lotus San Francisco. It's been tremendously rewarding being a part of the sub-molecular gestation of the new center. However, I'll be happy when we're finished. Not just because my body is beginning to object but because I'm ready to start teaching again. I miss it - it's been almost two months! I've never been away from teaching for so long. I know teaching will get the ball rolling on everything else too: it means I'll meet people and begin to form more of a sense of community. It's also a creative outlet for me, and I know it will get my deeper creative juices flowing again. Can't wait.

I'm back to shaking it up and out on my mat as well. It took a little while to feel at home in my new space but it's finally starting to feel like I can dance my own dance again. Probably helped that the clothes finally came off today. For some reason I've been apprehensive to practice naked here. Maybe because I live on a street with little houses, and I was/maybe still am convinced that the neighbors might be able to see in. So, I kept the blinds closed this morning - not ideal, since I'd like to enjoy the CA morning sun. But that took care of that concern and freed up the whole experience. Maybe tomorrow I won't keep the blinds closed. Besides who cares if the neighbors can see? Isn't part of the practice reveling in the glory of what God has crated and given us? If they're looking...well that's on them. Maybe they'll be inspired to unshackle themselves in some new way. Who knows?

Speaking of unshackling, I went to a class in Berkeley last week. I'm trying to be open. I think that will have to it's own post. For now I'll just say that I'll be glad when I'm able to share classes with my LL family again.

stop, look, and listen

Most days I'm unwilling to speculate or pinpoint what yoga has "taught" me. More often than not the inquiry has more to do with whether or not I can put my feet behind my head (yes, I can). But the most profound teaching that I have found in the yoga is: Stop, Look, and Listen. It isn't in any book but it is in the everyday, be-here-completely-in-the-moment (yet to be written) handbook.

I'm up early today waiting from a call from the east coast, clicking around the net and slowly getting motivated for the day. During a pause between clicks, I looked up to see a hummingbird having a restful moment (just sitting there) in the magnolia tree outside my window. What a great gift for the morning.

The magic happens in the spaces of life. Movement is special but we have to stop from time to time to receive the gifts, to allow our senses to take in all that magic we so often miss while we're clicking or whatever-ing. My beloved voice teacher, Margery, used to say: The difference between the student and the artist is that the artist doesn't fear the silence. I'm sure there's a way to relate that to the yogi and the master (or guru or mahayogi) but... why?

Now the question is, will I be attached and expect to see a still hummingbird in that magnolia tree again? Hmm.

Jai!

reduced

I'm in California, right? I'm so amazed at how chilly it can be here in the Sunshine State. Most days (of the two weeks I've been here) the clouds burn off around noon and the temperature goes up. Oy, not today. As I prepared to get on my mat I was so chilled that not only did I put on a long-sleeve shirt and long pants, but I felt the need to turn on a space heater. In September. Am I reduced to having to heat the room just to practice? God, I hope it hasn't come to that.

out of the mud

After a month filled with becoming an ordained minister, getting married, packing in New York, driving cross-country with my beloved, our dog and cat, and unpacking in Oakland, I'm finally finding some sort of rhythm and a semblance of practice again.

During that month, there was hardly an asana in sight. At first it was difficult but as the days fell away, so did the attachment. Most days if I could find a moment at my alter, I was happy. If I could throw in a squat or a headstand, even better. The letting go... tremendous.

I gave myself over to the situation (which was all good) and simply made time for some quiet. I began nibbling at The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna and the Narada Bhakti Sutras. The absence of asana gave me the space to expand my heart and the non-linear portion of my brain.

That all being said, now that my home sanctuary is set up I'm happily rolling out my mat again every day. The great gift on the other side of a month like the last one is the fact that the quiet I created is still part of my daily journey. Along with my mantras - Ganesh, Hanuman, Shiva, Kali, Gayatri, yamas and niyamas - pranayama, asana and meditation, I'm still spending time with Sri Ramakrishna and chanting from the Bhakti sutras every day. My daily practice actually feels like it has expanded from the hiatus from asana. Oh the letting go.

Who knows what the life of a yogi in (sometimes sunny) California will be. The SF Laughing Lotus blossoms on October 5, and I'm sure being back at teaching in a new city is going to inject something new and exciting into my practice. Only time...

Jai!