Stop the world

Ah balance. The great mystery. I was always told I was ‘an all or nothing kind of gal’. It’s not actually true. I just used to drink a lot and laugh really loudly and that led people to think I was extreme. I also used to work crazy long hours as a brand consultant and then go work in a bar till 6am and I would never say no to an invite or a piece of business. In fact, saying no was something I was not great at. I think folk would say I’m ‘more balanced’ these days, which, for me, is the difference between being in your twenties and being in your thirties. And it’s down to being aware, getting connected to my body, wanting to nourish myself and knowing what’s good for me. Waking up from a three day party to find yourself in Amsterdam is just not as fun as it used to be.

So how do we stay connected, continue to nourish ourselves and get clear on what’s good for us? According to the Native American Shaman, Don Juan, “in order to become a man of knowledge, a warrior-traveller, you will first have to learn to stop the world”.

Hmm. Stop the world. Sounds like a pretty big ask but stay with me. The pressure to be ‘successful’ is huge so we hop on our whole hog, working all of the hours, filling our faces with all of the screens, packing our heads with noise, closing our ears to silence, consuming bonkers crazy amounts of information, processed food, social media, social dysmorphia. It’s too much. Sometimes you just gotta make it stop. How, in the name of Shiva, are we meant to wake up, to truly know ourselves, to truly evolve if we are in a state of high alert and constant distraction?

Contemplation is one of the great yogic practices and both meditation and asana help us to access this wisdom. They help us to slow down. Stop. And begin to ask the right questions. How did I come to be this way? Think these thoughts? Hold these beliefs? How can I change the patterns that appear to define and confine me? Who am ‘I’?

You may or may not have heard of Monsieur Patanjali but he wrote the classical text the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali some 2000 years ago. The first two Sutras go like this:

Now, the teachings of yoga.

Yoga is to still the patterning of consciousness.

1.1-2

Yoga is not Eka Pada Galavasana. It’s not knowing where your chakras are or whether Lululemon is better than Lifeforme. Yoga is now. It’s paying close attention to what is really present and to do that we need to get still. In his fantabulous book, The Wisdom of Yoga, Steven Cope breaks it down, like so: “Yoga is to still the thought waves of the mind. Yoga is to bring a natural quiet to the mind and body – so that we can, for the first time, see clearly. And in this stillness – miraculously, outrageously – the knots undo themselves. Inner realities emerge.” A-Ho. What a succulent description of yoga magic.

Now, this is all very well but it’s not 2000 years ago and we don’t live in a cave so where do we find more time to contemplate? More time to yoga, meditate, get still, switch off, stop the world? Get thee to a retreat! Retreats are a great way to stop the world because you can leave the city, turn off your phone, leave your laptop, escape Facebook, block out your diary and make work wait. There is rarely wifi, it’s unlikely you will make it to the pub unnoticed, and there’s nothing to do other than rest, read, write, paint, dance, dream, eat, meditate, chat, laugh, be still, swim in a pool, walk in a forest and indulge in retreat-sized servings of yoga. (Sounds awful, I know). But mostly, retreats are the best place to stop the world because the world is stopped for you. You are held. Supported. Nourished. Space is held so your true self can emerge and be met. But crucially, you have the chance to learn how to hold space for yourself so you can find more time to get still, #everydamnday.

Yogi ceasefire

On Saturday, my Thai massage teacher pointed out that the difference between being in your head and being in your heart is about 10 inches, depending on the size of your body. I love Kira. She is such a wonderful teacher and model of loving-kindness. She’s down to earth and playful but wise and connected. During our opening mediation, she often reminds us that no one is better or worse, bigger or smaller, greater or lesser than the next person. That we should treat everyone as our equal and I really feel like that as her student. I often get awkward and a bit awe-struck by my teachers but not with Kira. It’s a very settling feeling and something I aspire to with my own students.

Comparing ourselves to others is a common trap and comparing our yoga practice, poses, styles, teachers, influences, experiences happens all too easily. I’ve recently come across a few articles that have not only compared yoga styles with reproach but have compared the whole of the modern yoga movement to a colossal failure. I feel like, thus far, I have been measured in my introduction of this subject but, quite frankly, these articles really pissed me off.

Holding the whole is something I strive for in all aspects of my life and holding yoga whole is surely something we should all try to do. Whether you think yoga should be deep and slow or strong and taking you to your edge, we all have different needs. I know that my own body likes to move. I’m drawn to spiritual teachers and meditative practices but I also like having my ass kicked by my buddy Helena who’s strapline is ‘all strong and no om’. Yoga is the ‘direct, systematic, and careful personal investigation of experience’, to quote the marvellous Mr Stephen Cope, so who are we to judge someone else’s investigation into their own body and experience? Granted, it might take a lot longer to even become aware of your awareness if you’re not being led by a teacher who holds that intention but, if you truly believe in the power of yoga, transformation will occur.

We are all finding our way and doing our work, whatever you perceive that to be. And sure, there are mind-blowing teachers who are firmly rooted in the yogic tradition but that doesn’t make those ‘other’ teachers, who haven’t had that background, worthy of derision. I sometimes wince at a badly put together sequence that doesn’t take care of the students but those students will go on to discover another teacher, another way, a new experience. It’s not for me to judge the teacher of that sequence. Maybe they are yet to find their own true teacher. Maybe they just qualified. Maybe it’s not that important.

And, as for the modern yoga movement being a colossal failure, is it not a huge achievement to bring yoga into the mainstream? To make it more accessible? Even if it’s just to work the body, the patternings of consciousness will become more still. Asana is a path to pure awareness. It’s a stepping-stone and those stones might come in different shapes and sizes but they form a path, nonetheless. As a teacher in Leeds, I have had to tune into what is needed at this point in time for these people in this part of the world. Yoga is starting to be a big deal round here but saying ‘namaste’ at the end of a class can still be borderline esoteric.

It takes time to access these mysterious practices and we mustn’t forget the origins of our own expansions. My best friend and I used to practice at home for years and neither of us could ‘om’ without doing a little laugh wee in our pants. These days I incorporate mantra, mudra, pranayama, asana and meditation into my daily saddhana. And now I get to be amused by other people who get the giggles when we chant. Step by step, teacher by teacher, experience by experience, breakthrough by breakthrough. It all counts, in my book. Let’s look for the best in people and move beyond our own obscurations and aversions and separations. Call me a lunatic, but is that not the point?

Ganesh, otherwise known as big lugs

Today is February 10^th. It is the 41^st day of my 40 day Ganesha Saddhana and I haven’t practiced so far. I’ve been hosting a tone of voice workshop for a Telecoms company in Cheltenham so I was up at 4.30am and I won’t get home till after 10pm. I feel relieved that my commitment is over, my Saddhana complete, and I don’t need to find a toilet cubicle to chant in – although the roomy WC on the Cross-Country to Glasgow Central feels remarkably private. But, mostly, I want to keep on going, busting those obstacles out of my way with my big bad trunk and my giant swishy ears.

I committed to Big Lugs on the 1^st of January before I taught a Ganesha workshop on the 3^rd. I wanted to bring more mantra, mudra and pranayama into my daily life and more myth into my teaching. Inspired by Sianna Sherman and our kick ass Rasa yoga 300hr Teacher Training in Berlin, I was all about removing obstacles. As is Ganesh.

Since the start of my Saddhana I have become acutely aware of the range of paltry disincentives and absurd stories I place in the way of myself. I hate the phone and avoid answering it. I’m not very good at Skype. I’m shy about my writing. I can draw pretty well but I’ve never unlocked any potential. I love to dance but I’m too scared of being new and getting it wrong. I’ve suffered with IBS for five years because it would be really hard to not eat pizza with Pete and I do love a beer. I didn’t go to yoga classes for three years because I surely had everything I needed from Yogaglo. I don’t call my mum or dad very often because I’m afraid of my mum’s illness and my dad’s judgement.

So, things have changed since January 1^st. Here I am, writing this blog for a start. I’ve written about brands for years but all I really want to write about is yoga so why, i ask myself, have i not been. I’m currently on an elimination diet and it feels so good to be listening to my body and giving it what it really wants. So what if I can’t eat pizza and drink beer? Who cares? I go to yoga classes every week because it’s the most obvious, logical and reasonable thing to do. I’ve made the leap and started answering the phone – I’ve even made a few calls. I’m still a bit unsure of Skype – I’m always too busy (obstacle identified) and I’m never sure if we’re voice or video calling (this is one of my favourite storylines). I signed up for an experimental drawing course but got there a little late so I’m on the waiting list. And I haven’t yet made it to dancing – still need to break down the door of fear for that one (please come with me).

I fondly refer to Ganesha as Big Lugs because of my dear friend, Cookie. She has also done the Saddhana and she’s been bashing obstacles out of the way ever since. She kept referring to Big Lugs and it took me a while to click. For those not familiar with Northern parlance – lugs are ears and our big-eared friend has helped us to listen and meet ourselves in the place of challenge. The Saddhana gave me time and space to get still and my 108 Ganesha mantra planted the seeds of intention in my every cell, as bowing to the remover of obstacles vibrated through my being.

And so I shall continue with Ganesha while considering a new 40 day Saddhana.

Watch the space.

Facing your nemesis

There are loads of poses I can’t do. And I know that you’re not supposed to get hooked on the poses but I still want to be able to do them. All of them. Like Meghan Currie or Sianna or Kino or that amazing Ashtangi lady who’s name I forget. And that’s ok. It’s great to be inspired and want to take our practice to new heights. I want to go deeper into my body and my consciousness, venturing further along the path. But I also want to be able to bust out Pincha Mayurasana because it’s a total bitch that makes my shoulders turn into question marks.

And yeah, I probably do want to capture it on camera and post it on my Instagram. I want people to see that I did it. That I can do it. That I am strong and capable and graceful and balanced. Because that is what I’ve always done. Present a version of myself, to myself and others. I didn’t realise that was what I was doing. I just thought I was supposed to be successful by everyone else’s standards and admitting that I couldn’t do something would make me lesser, somehow.

And so this, of course, is my yoga. My yoga is to recognise the portrait that I paint. We are all responsible for painting our own canvas in this life and I want mine to be authentic. I don’t need to be strong anymore and my perception of what strong is has completely changed anyway. I want to be strong by being vulnerable. I want to offer up my falls and failures and frustrations and fuck ups. My nemesis isn’t a forearm stand. It’s my superhero self who thinks she has to work hard at everything all the time to prove that she’s a good person.

We all have different versions of ourselves and all we can do is build our awareness, learn to disidentify with this small self – or these small selves – and tap deeper into something much more powerful. Something that has nothing to prove because it’s already perfect.

Purnoham. I am full.

Hats off to the Sun

Being dedicated to the study of yoga means that sometimes you find yourself watching Yogaglo classes in the bath at 11.30 at night. This was me yesterday. I was evolving my theme for the week and getting inspired by some old skool Anusara classes. Marc Holzman was my master of choice and I marveled at his skillful delivery and layering of the principles of alignment into the body. His theme was discipline and devotion, inspired by a talk with his teacher, the venerable Paul Muller Ortega, who had explained that discipline is love.

When we start to walk a path we have to work. Hard. It’s all new and something is driving us to that work but eventually it stops becoming work. Soon enough, a shift happens and we start to find ourselves on our mat, at our desk, at our easel, with the kids – whatever your calling may be – and it feels right. We want to be there. Eventually, some kind of magic occurs and you want to get up and meditate in the morning. You want to come to yoga more than once a week. You want to develop a home practice. You want to know more about your body, how it moves, why it feels so damn good when you do yoga. You fall in love with your practice and it moves from discipline to devotion. And then you find yourself watching yoga classes in the bath at 11.30 at night.

So what’s all this got to do with sun salutations? Well that’s where it all begins. Those foundational asanas and vinyasas are the first steps towards a dedicated practice and mastering sun salutations takes loving discipline. It takes time to lower down through Chaturanga Dandasana in a straight line without dropping your shoulders or your hips. It takes patience to understand what the hell your teacher means when she tells you to move your ears back or outer rotate your upper arms. It takes dedication to keep coming back so you can get clearer and stronger. It takes discipline but soon enough that will all melt into something like devotion.

I’ve been doing sun salutations for many years and I’m still learning. Every time I hinge at my hips, I’m thinking about the inner rotation of my thighs and the engagement of my core. When I halfway lift, my awareness rests in my shoulderblades. One day I will be able to float from Uttanasana to Chaturanga Dandasana without a sound and, as I shine my heart forward into Urdvha Mukha Svanasana, it’s my little toe and the sides of my neck that hold my attention.

It’s not hard to become devoted to a practice that focuses on the tiniest details, while reminding us of the biggest possible picture. One that connects you to your highest self and reminds you to look up at the sky and bow down to the sun. One that gets you reconnected, realigned and reunited with your body, helping you to build strength, focus and flexibility. Yoga is the practice of empowerment and it is the dedicated practice to your own unfolding. Every time you step on to that mat, you grow. And every creature on this planet is here to do that one thing. Grow. Who wouldn’t be devoted to that?!

Come and step up your sun salutations with me at Yoga Hero and join me afterwards for a soulful candlelit flow. With love and devotion, Collette.

The Mat Movement

Soulful yoga journeys.