I'm decided that teaching at the shit little studio around the block is crazy. It's stressful and a downer.
But when I taught at the far away studio yesterday, I found it to be a double downer. My commute is over an hour, which, by statistics, is 20 minutes too far for the average person. After that, people will trade in their housing situation for something closer. However, that stat is used for suburban car commuters going into the inner city. I have a feeling a lot of people below average incomes who take the bus or train or combination, are used to these types of long commutes.
The second downer was the clients. They did not want to chat, they didn't smile or say "good" when I asked how their Sunday was. It was like they wanted to say "Shut up and teach beyatch!" I felt insulted just by their demeanor, not included, not lovey dovey, just pure work. I'm guessing people teaching there are giving them such a hard workout that they get this egotistical shell going on, ready for this sweaty, hot yoga workout. Well, I gave them a tender loving yoga class. I planned it so much that I didn't sleep the night before (well, add in some nasty veggie ground round and this is why I didn't sleep). I went over it so many times, a combination of upper body strength and lower body flexibility. Upon leaving, most of the students thanked me for the easy class. So it confirmed my suspicions, as the class wasn't particularly "easy", it was just a well-rounded class for all levels. This wasn't an advanced class by name! One client told me it was "restorative" which was a shocker and I'm guessing he was using relative comparisons.
So along with a bountiful gift from J's mom of skiis (!!!), I find it hard to justify NOT having a car at the moment if I want to continue teaching these hard ass hot yoga clients. The question is "do I?" And I have trouble answering that one at all. I need money, I love my yoga, and I appreciate the studio being a little retreat amongst an industrial setting (yup, McD's is a stone's throw away, along with a hotel, timmy's, and 2 huge freeway type roads). I am appreciative of the absence of yuppies in this area, being composed more of the actual demographic of Canada's changing face : health-obsessed baby boomers and the children of immigrants. I rarely see any young white girls with huge rocks on their fingers here, while at the nearby hot studio in my yupppie area, it's nearly blinding looking at both their engagement rings and new highlights while in downdog!
True, I represent a demographic that is neither of these things, content to have a latte and time off from work to write about them, but also enjoying being the daugher of a healthy boomer and missing the diversity in people that my neighbourhood can offer. Honestly, I haven't had a friend who isn't white since I moved to calgary, and it wasn't for lack of trying. There is not only a geographical barrier here, there seems to be so many mental barriers between groups. I want to teach at this studio to feel a part of the larger community that is really Calgary, not the whitewash of sunnyside and hillhurst (sorry, it's true).
So would a car solve my problems? Would spending up to 20% of our earnings on a car be worth it? How often would we use it in the summer to go hiking? And skiing in the winter? And potential teaching jobs for me? When you analyze these questions, I accept that we would be essentially spending our money on entertainment, not transportation. Would I drive home, park it, then walk to groceries? Or would I become another driver in this city, justifying going further and further because I was "out anyway?" There would need to be clear rules about this car, to slow us down from the craziness. Do I want to be a part of the car culture again? When I know there are a million people, and potentially a million cars in Calgary, it feels awful to consider joining those ranks, to contribute one more ugly machine to a driveway, a road, a parking lot.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Ski my Life Away
Who were all those people who filled up the parking lot at Elk Lakes Saturday? We arrived noonish to one of the few areas with snow for skiing, and there were all these people there. It was wonderful actually. I felt like there was another world where people enjoy simple things, where they love being outdoors, even if it's cold.
Lately the mention of my wedding being Dec 29th brings all these criticisms about the winter. I keep saying that we're going skiing and later hottubbing outdoors, to embrace the winter rather than avoid it. This is again met with skepticism and eye-rolls. Seriously, do these people know they live in Canada? That must be a lot of denial, heat warmers and shopping in malls to pretend that we don't have a good 6 months of snow and cold. I have the most amount of disgust with my life when I don't embrace what it is throwing me, so this is a hard concept to appreciate in others.
It was wonderful and I felt exhilirated. It wasn't easy either. I was grateful for the groin stretching I do, snow ploughing down steep slopes and managing to stay on my feet. I was grateful for my level of fitness, my friend and her car, for the proximity to the mountains, to our wealthy lives that allows cheap gas, and free time. As soon as I woke up the next day to be "kidnapped" into a loooong, unhealthy and boring breakfast, I longed for another day of skiing. But it's good that I can keep that longing instead of feeling like it's too much. Thank you world for allowing me that beautiful day of x-skiing:)
Sick of Yogis
That's right. Just like entrenching myself in a hippie environment of garden people, community dogooders and organic food eaters, I am totally fed up with yogis.
I was looking for inspiration in my practise and teaching, so I decided to extend my mind and get out to some studios I was unwilling to visit previously. Watching an online yoga class with Kira Ryder, she blatantly said to her class "inspiration has to come from withIN, that's why they don't call it expiration." Thanks Kira. I'm still a little uninspired, but I think it's more an apathy to other yogis and studios, rather than uninspired. I still practise. In fact, my weekend jogs that end in a park to do asana are fantabulous still. So I needed to try to find external inspiration to realize I am inspired.
The byproduct of this lesson was to find deep flaws not only in my fellow yoga teachers, but even a massage therapist I visited. Ouch, it was a horrible massage, full of the same bullshit dogmatic crap that the yogis are spewing these days. Talking about realigning spines, "releasing" bones (I am not even sure what they mean when they say release muscles either, especially when that muscle feels exactly the same).
It all comes down to this "teacher" idea. The massage therapist wanted to talk shop with me, knowing I teach yoga. And the yogis who taught my class wanted to teach us about our bodies. Except. They were wrong. Their anatomical understanding was top-notch with terms like piriformis, sacral, extension, you name it. In other words, the same stuff I learned in Anatomy and Physiology. However. Both the yogis and the therapists seem to think that they know better what is good for me than I know what is good for me. The question "does this feel good?" is NOT an anatomical one, unless you don't know how to help someone feel the butt stretch. Then you need to isolate certain muscles, twist here, turn there, and viola, that person finds the same feeling the others are feeling. But instead, I get these over-arching themes of what must be good for the teacher is good for the student. Huh? When did yoga stray away from experimentation?
Paul Grilley talks about experimentation, he talks about teachers feeling insecure and using "alignment" to control their classes, so it's not a chaotic all-for-one. He's right. He also says that the most forgiveable sin is that of not understanding anatomy. Yes, but in the meantime, where can I go for yoga!? Oh, guess I have to do it all myself? Oh, I guess so.
My issue is then that I want like-minded yinsters to practise with. Not that I only do yin, I need some strength in my practise, as Paul would also prescribe, sometimes. But a 90 minute class, heated, full of pushups and vinyasas just seems like overkill.
I would rather now find some hippies to practise with, those who truly won't judge me for (god forbid) NOT bringing my shoulders away from my ears in Warrior pose. damn, it helps to reduce compression to shrug the shoulders, nevermind expanding the inhale by lifting that wittle lobe of the lung that hangs off the end of the collar bone. Yumm. More so, I want someone to teach my mom beginner yoga so that she doesn't quit (she has stopped going in this the 3rd week) because of some naive teacher telling her to do this, do that, then telling her she is close-minded if she doesn't. Therefore mom is going for a massage tomorrow for a weeklong neck pain. Caused by plough. Which isn't for everyone. Like my mom.
They say "do what you can" but when you do, where is the open-mindedness? Where is the compassion for your students? Enough with crowd control, let a 55 year old take a beginner yoga class without punishing her or belittling her. I'm ashamed to belong to this type of yoga world.
I was looking for inspiration in my practise and teaching, so I decided to extend my mind and get out to some studios I was unwilling to visit previously. Watching an online yoga class with Kira Ryder, she blatantly said to her class "inspiration has to come from withIN, that's why they don't call it expiration." Thanks Kira. I'm still a little uninspired, but I think it's more an apathy to other yogis and studios, rather than uninspired. I still practise. In fact, my weekend jogs that end in a park to do asana are fantabulous still. So I needed to try to find external inspiration to realize I am inspired.
The byproduct of this lesson was to find deep flaws not only in my fellow yoga teachers, but even a massage therapist I visited. Ouch, it was a horrible massage, full of the same bullshit dogmatic crap that the yogis are spewing these days. Talking about realigning spines, "releasing" bones (I am not even sure what they mean when they say release muscles either, especially when that muscle feels exactly the same).
It all comes down to this "teacher" idea. The massage therapist wanted to talk shop with me, knowing I teach yoga. And the yogis who taught my class wanted to teach us about our bodies. Except. They were wrong. Their anatomical understanding was top-notch with terms like piriformis, sacral, extension, you name it. In other words, the same stuff I learned in Anatomy and Physiology. However. Both the yogis and the therapists seem to think that they know better what is good for me than I know what is good for me. The question "does this feel good?" is NOT an anatomical one, unless you don't know how to help someone feel the butt stretch. Then you need to isolate certain muscles, twist here, turn there, and viola, that person finds the same feeling the others are feeling. But instead, I get these over-arching themes of what must be good for the teacher is good for the student. Huh? When did yoga stray away from experimentation?
Paul Grilley talks about experimentation, he talks about teachers feeling insecure and using "alignment" to control their classes, so it's not a chaotic all-for-one. He's right. He also says that the most forgiveable sin is that of not understanding anatomy. Yes, but in the meantime, where can I go for yoga!? Oh, guess I have to do it all myself? Oh, I guess so.
My issue is then that I want like-minded yinsters to practise with. Not that I only do yin, I need some strength in my practise, as Paul would also prescribe, sometimes. But a 90 minute class, heated, full of pushups and vinyasas just seems like overkill.
I would rather now find some hippies to practise with, those who truly won't judge me for (god forbid) NOT bringing my shoulders away from my ears in Warrior pose. damn, it helps to reduce compression to shrug the shoulders, nevermind expanding the inhale by lifting that wittle lobe of the lung that hangs off the end of the collar bone. Yumm. More so, I want someone to teach my mom beginner yoga so that she doesn't quit (she has stopped going in this the 3rd week) because of some naive teacher telling her to do this, do that, then telling her she is close-minded if she doesn't. Therefore mom is going for a massage tomorrow for a weeklong neck pain. Caused by plough. Which isn't for everyone. Like my mom.
They say "do what you can" but when you do, where is the open-mindedness? Where is the compassion for your students? Enough with crowd control, let a 55 year old take a beginner yoga class without punishing her or belittling her. I'm ashamed to belong to this type of yoga world.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Handstands Schmandstands
I asked a friend who does artistic photography to help me create a "head shot" photo for a yoga webpage. Of course, this company turned out to be less than ideal for having a studio, nevermind needing the head shot. Which was good, because B doesn't shoot people, and this handstand shot was the best one of the bunch, not exactly a head shot.
the better photo was the attempted handstand, where you get a great crotch shot, and I hope to add this one too, just had the more scenic one on this computer.
If you're curious, this pose is not as beautiful as you think. I was probably up for 3 seconds, and you can see by the curve in my arms, it might be hard for me to ever balance in handstand, which is great, cuz I like using trees for support better. It's more intimate with the squirrels, and rabbit shit.
wedding anticipation
J called to ask me my shoe size today in preps for skiing in Waskesiu during our wedding week. This made both of us SO excited as we really love to x-ski and just renting the boots made our simple hearts soar. We talked about reading in front of the fire, watching trashy tv to make up for a lack of television at home and of course, skiing.
We've booked an extra night at the hotel to keep us together after the wedding for as long as
Photo of waskesiu's trails from www.waskesiu.org website
possible. So we have the wedding on the 29th, then the 30th and New Years Eve at the hotel, hoepfully enjoying some groomed ski trails. We head back to Saskatoon on the 1st where we will help sort out the last details for the reception at the Western Development Museum Jan 2nd.
The dress is the saddest thing I've ever seen, but I realize the material, consumer world of finding happiness in "things", even a wedding dress, is full of disappointment. So I will do my best to shine from the inside that day, besides, Justin wouldn't notice if I walked down the aisle in my lulus I think.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Nothing to Do Anymore
So I have worked so hard for the last year to rid myself of things to do.
That's right, I have retreated into my most reclusive self.
I work 3 days a week from 8-4pm. Besides that, I teach about 5 classes a week.
In all that is about 26 hours of work each week. Most people work 40 minimum. I also gave up most of my volunteering and any other extracurricular activities.
My question. Is this a sign of impending depression, knowing the days are getting shorter, and each night I sleep more and more hours (last night was a hefty 11)? Or am I doing what I need to do to get my head on straight? What does that even mean?
I've noticed that in my life, I tend to view depression as Not Doing. I view "happy" as doing. But half the time, I start Doing something, only to find that I hate what I am doing, have no idea how I got there, and I feel stuck to get out.
So there. I have nothing to do. I am doing Nothing. Old Jackie would have said, this is a state of unhappiness, because our happiness (apparently I refer to myself as more than one person) has always come while Doing. So ergo, nothing means no happiness.
I am out to prove me wrong.
I am keeping myself company in these extra 13 hours.
This girl I hang out with (myself) is a lot like this, from my point of view:
She is really sad sometimes.
I like her the most when she takes us outside to play. She really knows what she likes, everyday is a different adventure, playing in the park, running, pushups, sometimes handstands against the trees. This makes her really happy. She smiles from the inside.
When we come home, I notice she gets aggravated. I don't know why, but she seems to have trouble breathing indoors, in her home. Like she wants something more, something to do, to feel worthy, to feel she is contributing.
She doesn't get along with her cats sometimes. She gets tired easily.
She likes to be quiet.
When we go out with people, she talks a lot. I don't know why, it seems odd given how quiet she is with me all day long. She seems to want approval from people, even from people that she doesn't like.
She likes to be hugged, quietly, firmly. She has trouble saying love.
She is really happy to have time alone after too much company. To cuddle up with a blanket and a book or a movie. This is when I like her a lot.
It's hard to watch someone like her, and not feel a lot of emotions about all the above, like a sense of sadness, as though she feels she is worthless or that no one cares. But I care for her a lot, and I want her to know that. I think she might feel better if she had a God that reassured her of being loved, but this is a silly thought, to both of us. I think she wants a friend, someone to share secrets with and to love. It has always been her pen and paper in the past, and she has this fiance who loves her. But something seems amiss. Weird.
That's right, I have retreated into my most reclusive self.
I work 3 days a week from 8-4pm. Besides that, I teach about 5 classes a week.
In all that is about 26 hours of work each week. Most people work 40 minimum. I also gave up most of my volunteering and any other extracurricular activities.
My question. Is this a sign of impending depression, knowing the days are getting shorter, and each night I sleep more and more hours (last night was a hefty 11)? Or am I doing what I need to do to get my head on straight? What does that even mean?
I've noticed that in my life, I tend to view depression as Not Doing. I view "happy" as doing. But half the time, I start Doing something, only to find that I hate what I am doing, have no idea how I got there, and I feel stuck to get out.
So there. I have nothing to do. I am doing Nothing. Old Jackie would have said, this is a state of unhappiness, because our happiness (apparently I refer to myself as more than one person) has always come while Doing. So ergo, nothing means no happiness.
I am out to prove me wrong.
I am keeping myself company in these extra 13 hours.
This girl I hang out with (myself) is a lot like this, from my point of view:
She is really sad sometimes.
I like her the most when she takes us outside to play. She really knows what she likes, everyday is a different adventure, playing in the park, running, pushups, sometimes handstands against the trees. This makes her really happy. She smiles from the inside.
When we come home, I notice she gets aggravated. I don't know why, but she seems to have trouble breathing indoors, in her home. Like she wants something more, something to do, to feel worthy, to feel she is contributing.
She doesn't get along with her cats sometimes. She gets tired easily.
She likes to be quiet.
When we go out with people, she talks a lot. I don't know why, it seems odd given how quiet she is with me all day long. She seems to want approval from people, even from people that she doesn't like.
She likes to be hugged, quietly, firmly. She has trouble saying love.
She is really happy to have time alone after too much company. To cuddle up with a blanket and a book or a movie. This is when I like her a lot.
It's hard to watch someone like her, and not feel a lot of emotions about all the above, like a sense of sadness, as though she feels she is worthless or that no one cares. But I care for her a lot, and I want her to know that. I think she might feel better if she had a God that reassured her of being loved, but this is a silly thought, to both of us. I think she wants a friend, someone to share secrets with and to love. It has always been her pen and paper in the past, and she has this fiance who loves her. But something seems amiss. Weird.
Towards floaty feelings
I am in need of inspiration.
In yoga this can translate as needing "rajas", which is the fiery hot energy that gets us moving, gets us from a state of claylike heaviness, to a state of change. This reminds me of physics, where the static friction is always greater than the kinetic friction. In other words, it takes a greater force to start an object moving than it does to keep it rolling.
Okay, so I need something to push me. However, from what I know of rajasic states, this often involves HEAT.
Here are some rajasic things in our everday life. For me, having just walked out of the mediclinic this morning with a diagnosis of Rosacea, meaning once more, all advice points to "no more heat in your life Jackie!", you can see how these things go against what I need.
Active Movement - jogging, hot yoga (yum), ashtanga yoga, dance dance dance, biking downtown in unfriendly cycling traffic, shouting, hysterical laughter, loud, crazy music, playing with your pet vigorously, becoming passionate about a cause, learning exciting news, having a deadline.
So you get the point. But for me, I tend to go way overboard with these hot things, and that makes me angry.
So my question to the universe is this. If we are in a tamasic (heavy, blank slate) kinda mood, is it possible to skip all that rajasic stuff and go straight to the sattvic form (which is full of light, feeling weightless, relaxed, I like to call it "floaty")?
Sattvic activities are supposed to follow the rajasic, but since I find rajasic to time and again be uncontrollable in my body and mind, I want to skip them all. So can I go from feeling depressed and mopey in the morning, and without having to go for a jog or listen to hiphop, go straight to floatey? So like, instead of hiphop (cmon, I don't really listen to it), could a Jack Johnson song make me feel good?
Other sattvic things?
Eating popcorn (cuz it's light and full or air hehe)
Jack Johnson and Norah Jones' songs (they just do it for me, sorry)
Praying (well, count that one out)
Meditation (ahh yes, back to this thing I keep avoiding) (sidenote, I did so-ham in the waiting room at the Dr's, for like 25 minutes and I did feel marvellous, even with the odd stares)
Yin yoga (maybe too much of a tamasic thing though)
Massage (only because I want a massage all the time)
We will see.
In yoga this can translate as needing "rajas", which is the fiery hot energy that gets us moving, gets us from a state of claylike heaviness, to a state of change. This reminds me of physics, where the static friction is always greater than the kinetic friction. In other words, it takes a greater force to start an object moving than it does to keep it rolling.
Okay, so I need something to push me. However, from what I know of rajasic states, this often involves HEAT.
Here are some rajasic things in our everday life. For me, having just walked out of the mediclinic this morning with a diagnosis of Rosacea, meaning once more, all advice points to "no more heat in your life Jackie!", you can see how these things go against what I need.
Active Movement - jogging, hot yoga (yum), ashtanga yoga, dance dance dance, biking downtown in unfriendly cycling traffic, shouting, hysterical laughter, loud, crazy music, playing with your pet vigorously, becoming passionate about a cause, learning exciting news, having a deadline.
So you get the point. But for me, I tend to go way overboard with these hot things, and that makes me angry.
So my question to the universe is this. If we are in a tamasic (heavy, blank slate) kinda mood, is it possible to skip all that rajasic stuff and go straight to the sattvic form (which is full of light, feeling weightless, relaxed, I like to call it "floaty")?
Sattvic activities are supposed to follow the rajasic, but since I find rajasic to time and again be uncontrollable in my body and mind, I want to skip them all. So can I go from feeling depressed and mopey in the morning, and without having to go for a jog or listen to hiphop, go straight to floatey? So like, instead of hiphop (cmon, I don't really listen to it), could a Jack Johnson song make me feel good?
Other sattvic things?
Eating popcorn (cuz it's light and full or air hehe)
Jack Johnson and Norah Jones' songs (they just do it for me, sorry)
Praying (well, count that one out)
Meditation (ahh yes, back to this thing I keep avoiding) (sidenote, I did so-ham in the waiting room at the Dr's, for like 25 minutes and I did feel marvellous, even with the odd stares)
Yin yoga (maybe too much of a tamasic thing though)
Massage (only because I want a massage all the time)
We will see.
Phony
A cook is someone who cooks.
A painter is someone who paints.
A dancer dances, and, well, you get it.
A yoga teacher....teaches yoga, meaning...
As part of dealing with my quick temper, I picked up and read Marshall Rosenberg’s book called NonViolent Communication. In this book, I realized that labelling someone under their occupation is akin to labelling someone who gets angry as an “angry person” of course. A few months later, I had a very violent encounter with a best friend. It was time to test these concepts I had read.
After the initial, repulsive feelings had passed, I began to think about my thoughts, bringing the all-important awareness to what had happened for me.
My first thought, after the friend following me from yoga class to yoga class, teaching lunch hours and evenings, was that, as a “yoga teacher”, I should not have got so angry. And secondly, since anger is part of the samskaras of my life, a history of patterning, I saw this event as more reinforcement as my existence as the scary “angry person”.
Can a yoga teacher have flaws, especially ones that are in direct conflict with the ideals of ahimsa (non-harming)? Based on the evidence of my own experience with teachers being flaky, lying, doing harm to themselves with alcohol and drugs, it is most obvious we can be hypocrites.
But I know all this.
So the second wave of thoughts about my thoughts is that my ego, wanting to appear as flawless, is getting in the way of me continuing my path down ahimsa. Instead of accepting what happened and making whatever amends I could, my ego would rather bash me over and over again, making sure that I know how “bad” my actions were, that I am a total phony.
So now, I wonder how to bring these lessons to my class, to my life.
First of all, I realize that although counselling and reading has helped me at the most difficult moments to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I don’t feel those tools are the answer to anger and self-harm. I think meditation is, as we have to be in the here and now rather than dwelling on the past. I have to admit then, that I am not ready for meditation in the setting I imagine it involves, and I’m not fully ready to spend hours on this.
Instead, I’ve started a simple practise of breath awareness and “so-ham” repetition, especially when my hurtful thoughts are at their peak. I’m not sure this helps, or if I am doing the right thing, but like all yoga, experience will tell me.
A painter is someone who paints.
A dancer dances, and, well, you get it.
A yoga teacher....teaches yoga, meaning...
As part of dealing with my quick temper, I picked up and read Marshall Rosenberg’s book called NonViolent Communication. In this book, I realized that labelling someone under their occupation is akin to labelling someone who gets angry as an “angry person” of course. A few months later, I had a very violent encounter with a best friend. It was time to test these concepts I had read.
After the initial, repulsive feelings had passed, I began to think about my thoughts, bringing the all-important awareness to what had happened for me.
My first thought, after the friend following me from yoga class to yoga class, teaching lunch hours and evenings, was that, as a “yoga teacher”, I should not have got so angry. And secondly, since anger is part of the samskaras of my life, a history of patterning, I saw this event as more reinforcement as my existence as the scary “angry person”.
Can a yoga teacher have flaws, especially ones that are in direct conflict with the ideals of ahimsa (non-harming)? Based on the evidence of my own experience with teachers being flaky, lying, doing harm to themselves with alcohol and drugs, it is most obvious we can be hypocrites.
But I know all this.
So the second wave of thoughts about my thoughts is that my ego, wanting to appear as flawless, is getting in the way of me continuing my path down ahimsa. Instead of accepting what happened and making whatever amends I could, my ego would rather bash me over and over again, making sure that I know how “bad” my actions were, that I am a total phony.
So now, I wonder how to bring these lessons to my class, to my life.
First of all, I realize that although counselling and reading has helped me at the most difficult moments to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I don’t feel those tools are the answer to anger and self-harm. I think meditation is, as we have to be in the here and now rather than dwelling on the past. I have to admit then, that I am not ready for meditation in the setting I imagine it involves, and I’m not fully ready to spend hours on this.
Instead, I’ve started a simple practise of breath awareness and “so-ham” repetition, especially when my hurtful thoughts are at their peak. I’m not sure this helps, or if I am doing the right thing, but like all yoga, experience will tell me.
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