Yogi Tea had the ingenius idea of spreading pearls of wisdom and inspiration through their tea bags. I drink this almost every day, and open the bag has become an event - I get a thrill opening the bag just to read the yogi wisdom inside. It's particularly encouraging when you feel like someone pressed the Pause button on your motivation and creativity. Some of my favorites include:
Your intuition is your best friend.
Chances multiply if you grab them.
Showing posts with label Yoga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yoga. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Twist More
A yoga teacher told our class this story:
"My dad is a cardiologist and not particularly into yoga, but he would come home from work and tell us kids to 'twist more.' We'd say, 'Twist more? Why?' Twisting, apparently, helps the blood move and circulate better in the body - letting more oxygen in and persuading the toxins to "move along."
Since I heard this story, I do at least one yoga twist every day for a healthy heart...and I thought it was important enough to share.
I think if you literally twist your body a few times a day, you'll help get the blood going. If you want to do some yoga, though, check out some of these poses:
http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/finder/browse_categories/seated_and_twists
"My dad is a cardiologist and not particularly into yoga, but he would come home from work and tell us kids to 'twist more.' We'd say, 'Twist more? Why?' Twisting, apparently, helps the blood move and circulate better in the body - letting more oxygen in and persuading the toxins to "move along."
Since I heard this story, I do at least one yoga twist every day for a healthy heart...and I thought it was important enough to share.
I think if you literally twist your body a few times a day, you'll help get the blood going. If you want to do some yoga, though, check out some of these poses:
http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/finder/browse_categories/seated_and_twists
Labels:
Yoga
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Yoga Intensive Part 2: The Best in the World
The second part of this intensive dealt with personal development and reaching your goals. We had several discussions throughout the week, both in small groups and as an entire 40-person class. If I had to choose one message to pass on from all that we talked about, it would be the one that Darren shared with us at the end. He quoted author Jim Collins, who said that in order to go from good to great, you should reflect on these three questions:
1) What are you passionate about?
2) At what can you be the best in the world?
3) What drives your economic engine?
Darren is the owner of Yoga Oasis and the "poster boy" of the yoga world, a phrase that magazines and newspapers love to use. He co-created a poster that features him doing every pose in the Anusara syllabus. He's also put out a book of yoga poses and he's co-developed a way to practice yoga efficiently in one hour: "YogaHour." He's an internationally recognized teacher who is known for his innovation to the practice. At the end of the intensive, this man gave his thoughts on what it meant to be "the best in the world."
"Honestly, you probably cannot be the best in the world at something. There's always going to be someone better than you. But to be the best in the world doesn't mean you have to be the best - it might mean you have the right strategy. I don't feel like I'm the guy who is best fit for the projects I'm inspired to do. The best person, though, may not have the resources or the desire to do these projects. So if he doesn't do them, who will? It's either 'the best'... or no one. And that's tough competition. It's hard to step into that position. But that may be the seed you need to do what you want to do."
I was surprised to hear him admit his feelings about his abilities. This superstar yoga teacher doesn't think he's the best person to be doing what he's doing. But he's doing it anyway. This is something I think about often, especially as a dancer and aspiring dance coach. I'm 24 and I'm decades behind in experience that many of the national and world-class dancers and coaches have. How could I possibly stand out amongst them? I don't have the resources they had when they began (time, money, connections)...
It doesn't really matter, though. It's something I want to do and I intend to do it...even if I'm not I'm the best or most knowledgeable or most skilled person for the job. By doing it in the first place my way, though, maybe I will be.
1) What are you passionate about?
2) At what can you be the best in the world?
3) What drives your economic engine?
Darren is the owner of Yoga Oasis and the "poster boy" of the yoga world, a phrase that magazines and newspapers love to use. He co-created a poster that features him doing every pose in the Anusara syllabus. He's also put out a book of yoga poses and he's co-developed a way to practice yoga efficiently in one hour: "YogaHour." He's an internationally recognized teacher who is known for his innovation to the practice. At the end of the intensive, this man gave his thoughts on what it meant to be "the best in the world."
"Honestly, you probably cannot be the best in the world at something. There's always going to be someone better than you. But to be the best in the world doesn't mean you have to be the best - it might mean you have the right strategy. I don't feel like I'm the guy who is best fit for the projects I'm inspired to do. The best person, though, may not have the resources or the desire to do these projects. So if he doesn't do them, who will? It's either 'the best'... or no one. And that's tough competition. It's hard to step into that position. But that may be the seed you need to do what you want to do."
I was surprised to hear him admit his feelings about his abilities. This superstar yoga teacher doesn't think he's the best person to be doing what he's doing. But he's doing it anyway. This is something I think about often, especially as a dancer and aspiring dance coach. I'm 24 and I'm decades behind in experience that many of the national and world-class dancers and coaches have. How could I possibly stand out amongst them? I don't have the resources they had when they began (time, money, connections)...
It doesn't really matter, though. It's something I want to do and I intend to do it...even if I'm not I'm the best or most knowledgeable or most skilled person for the job. By doing it in the first place my way, though, maybe I will be.
Labels:
Career Path,
Yoga
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Yoga Intensive Part 1: Asana
I completed my first-ever yoga intensive last week. "Intense" is a good word for it. It was a week-long workshop in pushing your body to your limits while uncovering who you were and what you wanted from life. Asana is the physical aspect of yoga, so let's start with the pushing physical limits part.
We had three teachers: Amy, Christina, and Darren. Each of them use mixed forms of yogic branches in their practice, but the main ones they incorporated into our intensive were Iyengar, Bikram, and Anusara. These words might mean something to some of you...
For those of you unfamiliar with a general Iyengar (alignment-focused) or Anusara class, what usually happens is the following:
You warm up. This takes place in the form of lunges, squat jumps, and push ups, otherwise known as Warrior I, II, III and vinyasa (standing to plank to chaturanga dandasana to upward dog/cobra to down dog). The more advanced the class, the more jumping and movement are involved: "I want one movement from tadasana (standing pose) to chaturanga dandasana (bottom of a push up)." Sometimes you'll hold this last one and hover above the ground. The length of the hold depends on how merciful the teacher is. We'll do that sequence several times. "Sticky mats" don't exist after the first 20 minutes of vinyasa; they become "slippery mats" from all the sweating.
After warming up, we then fold into back bends and various twists and splits. Performing these is not all about stretching either. It takes energy to freaking reach your foot as you bend backwards, every part of you - trying breathe - wanting to yell, "I can't do it!" Also, maintaining balance on fractions of your body can take more strength and mental energy than lifting a dumbell. For instance, you could be balancing on the edge of your right foot and right hand, moving your front body forward while holding your left foot. Your left foot will then kick backward, moving you into a sideways backbend. Don't forget you're still balancing on the edge of your foot and your palm. You try to keep from toppling over and it's taking every muscle in your body to keep you from falling on the person next to you.
The instructors were great people, but I admit that after the first two days, fear for what they were going to put me through crept into my body. I named Amy the "cheerleader" of the group, because she had the most cheerful, cute voice. Christina was the "teacher:" she had academic approach to poses and challenged you to do what you didn't want to do (suggesting pros and cons). Darren was the "coach." He's a man of few words and has a calm voice. When he said, "Do XYZ," you did it. No protesting (unless you would hurt yourself). They were all supportive, but while we practiced, I didn't always believe their positivity. For instance, every time we were about to do a difficult pose, Christina would say, "It'll be awesome." "Awesome" became my short-hand word for, "Prepare for total domination. You're going to cry."
I did this type of routine - warm-up then crazy bends - for 3 hours a day, five days in a row. Think of it as going to the gym for a mixed cardio and strength training class for three hours a day. Five days in a row. In the afternoon, they gave us a few hours of restorative and what I call "stretching" yoga...no cardio or strength poses. I was never a fan of restorative yoga until after my first day. Now I think it's one of the best things in the world (that's for you, Tim!).
We had three teachers: Amy, Christina, and Darren. Each of them use mixed forms of yogic branches in their practice, but the main ones they incorporated into our intensive were Iyengar, Bikram, and Anusara. These words might mean something to some of you...
For those of you unfamiliar with a general Iyengar (alignment-focused) or Anusara class, what usually happens is the following:
You warm up. This takes place in the form of lunges, squat jumps, and push ups, otherwise known as Warrior I, II, III and vinyasa (standing to plank to chaturanga dandasana to upward dog/cobra to down dog). The more advanced the class, the more jumping and movement are involved: "I want one movement from tadasana (standing pose) to chaturanga dandasana (bottom of a push up)." Sometimes you'll hold this last one and hover above the ground. The length of the hold depends on how merciful the teacher is. We'll do that sequence several times. "Sticky mats" don't exist after the first 20 minutes of vinyasa; they become "slippery mats" from all the sweating.
After warming up, we then fold into back bends and various twists and splits. Performing these is not all about stretching either. It takes energy to freaking reach your foot as you bend backwards, every part of you - trying breathe - wanting to yell, "I can't do it!" Also, maintaining balance on fractions of your body can take more strength and mental energy than lifting a dumbell. For instance, you could be balancing on the edge of your right foot and right hand, moving your front body forward while holding your left foot. Your left foot will then kick backward, moving you into a sideways backbend. Don't forget you're still balancing on the edge of your foot and your palm. You try to keep from toppling over and it's taking every muscle in your body to keep you from falling on the person next to you.
The instructors were great people, but I admit that after the first two days, fear for what they were going to put me through crept into my body. I named Amy the "cheerleader" of the group, because she had the most cheerful, cute voice. Christina was the "teacher:" she had academic approach to poses and challenged you to do what you didn't want to do (suggesting pros and cons). Darren was the "coach." He's a man of few words and has a calm voice. When he said, "Do XYZ," you did it. No protesting (unless you would hurt yourself). They were all supportive, but while we practiced, I didn't always believe their positivity. For instance, every time we were about to do a difficult pose, Christina would say, "It'll be awesome." "Awesome" became my short-hand word for, "Prepare for total domination. You're going to cry."
I did this type of routine - warm-up then crazy bends - for 3 hours a day, five days in a row. Think of it as going to the gym for a mixed cardio and strength training class for three hours a day. Five days in a row. In the afternoon, they gave us a few hours of restorative and what I call "stretching" yoga...no cardio or strength poses. I was never a fan of restorative yoga until after my first day. Now I think it's one of the best things in the world (that's for you, Tim!).
Labels:
Yoga
Monday, June 11, 2012
Teachers: Cases for the Good and the Best
A discussion I've encountered a few times was on the quality of a teacher: do you seek out the best there is (usually far away and/or very expensive)? Or do you go to one that is less than "expert" but more easily accessible (location/cost)? I always thought that if you could get the best, you should. That is the reason I am in Tucson: I sought out the best possible dance coach I could find. Yoga, however, has presented to me a strong case against this idea.
Milo and Ellen
After attending many of his classes, I realized that one of my favorite teachers - MiLo - was not the "best." He's both the artistic director for Yoga Oasis and a hatha yoga instructor. He's been practicing yoga for 20 years, so he has quite a bit of knowledge, but he's not the studio "expert." Yet I attend his classes regularly because of the way he talks and thinks about yoga and life. I think the fact that he's an artist has a lot to do with it: I simply connect really well to the explanations and imagery he uses.
Similarly, I also like his co-teacher Ellen very much. She's relatively new to teaching, having only a few months experience so far. However, she takes an interest in me and pushes me to better myself. For instance, she'll come around and help me extend my back in a backbend or lengthen my arms in triangle pose, because she knows I can. She inspires me to keep going and continue my study of yoga.
Chris
Yet there is something to be said for receiving information from the expert. Chris, at YogaFlow has extensive experience. I don't connect with him in the same way I do Ellen and MiLo, but his knowledge on yoga clears up any ambiguity I have about faster-paced classes. He's simple and logical, and I learn a lot more from him about the details of alignment. I feel I would be missing something if I didn't attend his classes.
Conclusion
Looking at both of these teacher types, I've realized that I need them both. While it's great if you can combine the expert and the inspirational teacher into one person, that may not be possible. For this reason, having several teachers is the most beneficial situation.
Yet, I have to admit that at the end of the day - if I had to choose one kind of teacher - I would choose the inspirational/supportive one over the expert. I would stay with Ellen and MiLo over Chris, just because of the emotional connection I've established with them and their teaching. They've made me realize that an effective and good teacher doesn't have to be an "expert;" connecting with the student and investing in him or her is what matters. Inspirational teachers can lead me to further my research (which they have), but the "expert" one won't necessarily lead me to inspiration. Inspiration brings fulfillment and, in my opinion, having someone believe in you is worth more than the best knowledge.
Milo and Ellen
After attending many of his classes, I realized that one of my favorite teachers - MiLo - was not the "best." He's both the artistic director for Yoga Oasis and a hatha yoga instructor. He's been practicing yoga for 20 years, so he has quite a bit of knowledge, but he's not the studio "expert." Yet I attend his classes regularly because of the way he talks and thinks about yoga and life. I think the fact that he's an artist has a lot to do with it: I simply connect really well to the explanations and imagery he uses.
Similarly, I also like his co-teacher Ellen very much. She's relatively new to teaching, having only a few months experience so far. However, she takes an interest in me and pushes me to better myself. For instance, she'll come around and help me extend my back in a backbend or lengthen my arms in triangle pose, because she knows I can. She inspires me to keep going and continue my study of yoga.
Chris
Yet there is something to be said for receiving information from the expert. Chris, at YogaFlow has extensive experience. I don't connect with him in the same way I do Ellen and MiLo, but his knowledge on yoga clears up any ambiguity I have about faster-paced classes. He's simple and logical, and I learn a lot more from him about the details of alignment. I feel I would be missing something if I didn't attend his classes.
Conclusion
Looking at both of these teacher types, I've realized that I need them both. While it's great if you can combine the expert and the inspirational teacher into one person, that may not be possible. For this reason, having several teachers is the most beneficial situation.
Yet, I have to admit that at the end of the day - if I had to choose one kind of teacher - I would choose the inspirational/supportive one over the expert. I would stay with Ellen and MiLo over Chris, just because of the emotional connection I've established with them and their teaching. They've made me realize that an effective and good teacher doesn't have to be an "expert;" connecting with the student and investing in him or her is what matters. Inspirational teachers can lead me to further my research (which they have), but the "expert" one won't necessarily lead me to inspiration. Inspiration brings fulfillment and, in my opinion, having someone believe in you is worth more than the best knowledge.
Labels:
Career Path,
Dance,
Reflections,
Yoga
Sunday, June 10, 2012
A Life Disruption - "Awesome!"
At last week's yoga class, the teacher - Elizabeth - discussed the idea of disruption:
"It can be a new job, a death, or even having a child. A disruption is a life-changing event. It's interesting when you're with a group of yogis and they're sharing their disruptions. Someone will mention a terrible thing that happened to them, and you'll get the occasional yogi who says, 'Awesome!' Of course, everyone wonders, 'Why would they say that?!' But when you have a disruption in your life, that person knows it's a chance for you to grow...and let go of the previous lifestyle you were hanging on to."
I thought about that and my life with dancing in Wisconsin. I made dancing the focus of my life, putting it above almost everything else...including my own personal well-being. Furthermore, while I didn't practice consistently after I left team, I still held onto the mentality of dancing being the only thing that mattered. It wasn't until I came to Tucson and experienced several disruptions at once (geographically, socially, economically, mentally, physically) that I was forced to put dancing aside, evaluate my life, and take a deep look at who I - Amy Jennings - truly was. Without dancing. I don't think I need to tell all of you about the difficult process I went through, because many of you were reading about it right along with me.
Anyway, that occasional "Awesome!" yogi is right - disruption is a chance to grow. "When you encounter a disruption, it will bring you closer to the truth about yourself," Elizabeth finished, and I couldn't agree more. A disruption causes us to face ourselves and maybe realize that something we valued and depended on in the past now hinders us. We then get to break away from the old and see how we "learn to fly" in a time of difficulty and change. A side of us or a talent that we never took time to develop might emerge, like knitting or teaching. Or maybe a loss in one part of our lives will give us the time to serve someone or something else. We might never have learned these things if we didn't experience a break in our comfortable lives. I know I can say that my non-competing/Tucson-living disruption period let me grow in several directions, such as:
*meeting and learning from people from several walks of life
*exploring digital media (photography and video)
*studying yoga
*learning to be healthy and take care of myself (an on-going process)
*hanging out with middle school students while photographing their parks and rec activities
*working in a sushi restaurant
*creating a blog about living in Arizona and venturing out on your own
*learning to fix up a bike
*trying argentine tango and lindy hop
*making friends
*learning about building and breaking relationships (another on-going process)
Since I've let go of dancing - and a hindering mind-set I clung to - I've learned so much about life and myself. Now a door has opened for ballroom again, and after going through all kinds of self re-evaluation and trying new things, I'm ready to step through it with a healthier mindset -- something I wasn't ready for a few months ago. If you're going through a disruption right now, I can empathize with you on the difficult experience. Take heart, though, when I say, "Awesome!"...because it's what you will be when you arrive on the other side :).
"It can be a new job, a death, or even having a child. A disruption is a life-changing event. It's interesting when you're with a group of yogis and they're sharing their disruptions. Someone will mention a terrible thing that happened to them, and you'll get the occasional yogi who says, 'Awesome!' Of course, everyone wonders, 'Why would they say that?!' But when you have a disruption in your life, that person knows it's a chance for you to grow...and let go of the previous lifestyle you were hanging on to."
I thought about that and my life with dancing in Wisconsin. I made dancing the focus of my life, putting it above almost everything else...including my own personal well-being. Furthermore, while I didn't practice consistently after I left team, I still held onto the mentality of dancing being the only thing that mattered. It wasn't until I came to Tucson and experienced several disruptions at once (geographically, socially, economically, mentally, physically) that I was forced to put dancing aside, evaluate my life, and take a deep look at who I - Amy Jennings - truly was. Without dancing. I don't think I need to tell all of you about the difficult process I went through, because many of you were reading about it right along with me.
Anyway, that occasional "Awesome!" yogi is right - disruption is a chance to grow. "When you encounter a disruption, it will bring you closer to the truth about yourself," Elizabeth finished, and I couldn't agree more. A disruption causes us to face ourselves and maybe realize that something we valued and depended on in the past now hinders us. We then get to break away from the old and see how we "learn to fly" in a time of difficulty and change. A side of us or a talent that we never took time to develop might emerge, like knitting or teaching. Or maybe a loss in one part of our lives will give us the time to serve someone or something else. We might never have learned these things if we didn't experience a break in our comfortable lives. I know I can say that my non-competing/Tucson-living disruption period let me grow in several directions, such as:
*meeting and learning from people from several walks of life
*exploring digital media (photography and video)
*studying yoga
*learning to be healthy and take care of myself (an on-going process)
*hanging out with middle school students while photographing their parks and rec activities
*working in a sushi restaurant
*creating a blog about living in Arizona and venturing out on your own
*learning to fix up a bike
*trying argentine tango and lindy hop
*making friends
*learning about building and breaking relationships (another on-going process)
Since I've let go of dancing - and a hindering mind-set I clung to - I've learned so much about life and myself. Now a door has opened for ballroom again, and after going through all kinds of self re-evaluation and trying new things, I'm ready to step through it with a healthier mindset -- something I wasn't ready for a few months ago. If you're going through a disruption right now, I can empathize with you on the difficult experience. Take heart, though, when I say, "Awesome!"...because it's what you will be when you arrive on the other side :).
Labels:
Change,
Inspiration,
Reflections,
Yoga
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Make a Mess
The theme of my last yoga class was "create." The two instructors - MiLo and Ellen - emphasized the idea that the shapes you create through yoga are works of art.
"Sometimes when I'm working on a painting, I start with making a mess,"MiLo said. "Splatter paint everywhere and get your ideas and energy out there...then you can begin to shape it into something." This is how they wanted us to approach difficult poses: "make a mess" of a pose and then work through it in order to create.
I immediately thought of life, and how - for some of us - we need to make a mess first in order to figure it all out. We need to put ourselves out there and take a risk, "splatter the paint," and do something crazy/stupid/weird so that we can work through it...so that we can understand...and create a life.
Labels:
Career Path,
Yoga
The Importance of Community
I like to think of myself as a solo flyer, unattached to anyone and anything. "I don't need any strings!" I declare. "I'll make it on my own!"
Right. That's probably the biggest myth I've ever told myself. Ambition, dedication, and dreams only have so much energy when you're alone, which I discovered firsthand.
When I came to Tucson, I was ambitious for the first two months. I was ready to dive into dance lessons, find work to support myself, and hopefully find a partner. However, once I discovered that international style didn't really exist here, I felt very isolated from the dance community. It was like wanting to speak your native language in a foreign country, but no one could understand you and you couldn't understand them. I couldn't understand American style nor this lack of competitiveness...and I didn't want to. I continued to practice on my own after two lessons and a couple social dances, but it all fell away. I didn't know what to do with myself after a while and I felt very confused. I realized that even with a coach, I needed a community and at the very least, a partner.
I came to yoga because of the awesome teachers and students. They encouraged and inspired me. This was a driving reason for me to join and practice. While I still enjoy dancing more than yoga, yoga has given me something that dancing couldn't and because I've stayed with it, I think that says something about what a group of people can offer you.
Having experienced two types of communities here, this is what I've learned:
Community...
Allows you to utilize many of your talents in one setting. If you're a dancer, you can also be a photographer, a teacher, a clothing designer, a businessman, etc. People will ask you to perform other roles and use your other talents.
Lets you put forth energy and make life worth living. When we can give back, we feel complete. A community lets us absorb and give at the same time.
Lets you develop yourself. We need feedback to improve ourselves in whatever we do. A community offers competition because everyone is at a different level. Seeing yourself in the spectrum lets you improve: you always find something you to work toward.
Gives you an anchor. In order to really grow and change, we need a place to provide stability. A room will stay bare if people come and go frequently (change). Once someone settles (stability), you begin to see decorations, photos, and furniture. You see a home.
Finally, in her book, My Body Is A Temple, Yoga teacher Christina Sell used her teacher's analogy of a soup when talking about community:
"We have our unique attributes and characteristics, but our true purpose is not realized until those attributes are dedicated to the whole; until we didicate our own uniqueness to 'making the soup fantastic.'"
Therefore,
It's not until we dedicate ourselves to the whole that we can realize our full potential. Without a community, you cannot grow. If I've learned anything while being in Tucson, it is this.
Right. That's probably the biggest myth I've ever told myself. Ambition, dedication, and dreams only have so much energy when you're alone, which I discovered firsthand.
When I came to Tucson, I was ambitious for the first two months. I was ready to dive into dance lessons, find work to support myself, and hopefully find a partner. However, once I discovered that international style didn't really exist here, I felt very isolated from the dance community. It was like wanting to speak your native language in a foreign country, but no one could understand you and you couldn't understand them. I couldn't understand American style nor this lack of competitiveness...and I didn't want to. I continued to practice on my own after two lessons and a couple social dances, but it all fell away. I didn't know what to do with myself after a while and I felt very confused. I realized that even with a coach, I needed a community and at the very least, a partner.
I came to yoga because of the awesome teachers and students. They encouraged and inspired me. This was a driving reason for me to join and practice. While I still enjoy dancing more than yoga, yoga has given me something that dancing couldn't and because I've stayed with it, I think that says something about what a group of people can offer you.
Having experienced two types of communities here, this is what I've learned:
Community...
Allows you to utilize many of your talents in one setting. If you're a dancer, you can also be a photographer, a teacher, a clothing designer, a businessman, etc. People will ask you to perform other roles and use your other talents.
Lets you put forth energy and make life worth living. When we can give back, we feel complete. A community lets us absorb and give at the same time.
Lets you develop yourself. We need feedback to improve ourselves in whatever we do. A community offers competition because everyone is at a different level. Seeing yourself in the spectrum lets you improve: you always find something you to work toward.
Gives you an anchor. In order to really grow and change, we need a place to provide stability. A room will stay bare if people come and go frequently (change). Once someone settles (stability), you begin to see decorations, photos, and furniture. You see a home.
Finally, in her book, My Body Is A Temple, Yoga teacher Christina Sell used her teacher's analogy of a soup when talking about community:
"We have our unique attributes and characteristics, but our true purpose is not realized until those attributes are dedicated to the whole; until we didicate our own uniqueness to 'making the soup fantastic.'"
Therefore,
It's not until we dedicate ourselves to the whole that we can realize our full potential. Without a community, you cannot grow. If I've learned anything while being in Tucson, it is this.
Labels:
Career Path,
Reflections,
Yoga
Cutting a Branch
When I made the decision to attend a yoga intensive, I felt
A) Really good about going, and
B) My interest in tango had slipped away
...and I didn't mind at all.
I thought that when something went away, it would make you sad. However, I saw that when you work toward a goal, other things fall away and they no longer matter as much to you anymore. My new goal was to teach yoga. It inspired me and I wanted to pass that inspiration on to other people. Tango, therefore, was pushed aside.
A) Really good about going, and
B) My interest in tango had slipped away
...and I didn't mind at all.
I thought that when something went away, it would make you sad. However, I saw that when you work toward a goal, other things fall away and they no longer matter as much to you anymore. My new goal was to teach yoga. It inspired me and I wanted to pass that inspiration on to other people. Tango, therefore, was pushed aside.
Labels:
Career Path,
Dance,
Yoga
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Intense
Yoga continues to surprise me in how much of a workout it is. Last weekend I went to a two-hour class with a guest teacher. I walked out feeling like I had been to a two-hour lifting session, and I spent the entire next day recovering. I registered for a yoga "intensive" in June: six hours of yoga/day for five days. After that one class, I decided to work on building my stamina. Now that all my classes are completely free (thanks to work-exchange), I've started taking the more advanced sessions 3-4 times per week (all 1.5 hrs long). Not to mention that I bike there and back (30-40 minutes).
Labels:
Yoga
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Yoga Flow
I do work exchange at two studios now: Yoga Flow and Yoga Oasis. I've posted a little about Yoga Oasis, but not much about Yoga Flow. It's several blocks north of downtown (about a forty-minute bike ride) and I usually attend class on Tuesday or Thursday for Hatha and the occasional Sunday for Ashtanga.
The studio has classes in the Tucson Creative Dance Center.
The Lobby
The front desk where I work.
The Circular Dance Floor
Labels:
Tucson Living,
Yoga
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Yoga. Oasis.
I've never really talked about the yoga in my Sonoran Life and I think it's time to do so.
It began as a way for me to get some exercise cheaply. It had been months since I'd been to a gym and I wasn't dancing. I also had a job I didn't like (working at the restaurant) and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. These two things turned me to depression and I had no inclination to get out and walk around. I was feeling sick with myself one day and just decided to take a yoga class. I tried out a studio downtown at the recommendation of a coworker and ended up loving it.
The studio is Yoga Oasis. They teach mainly Anusara style, which someone described as "yoga on prozac" (not far from the truth). Apart from lifting my mood, though, the teachers inspire me and the classes are creative. Depending on whose classes you go to, you receive short lessons in philosophy (with an intense workout), laugh at witty remarks, or listen to club/dance music - like the music below. Sometimes all of the above.
Aside from it's modern approach, yoga at Oasis has shaped into a study for me. I find myself examining it's principles like I did dance: I tend to focus on alignment and figuring out how certain positions tap into different sources of physical power. I set a goal to try every teacher during the month of April in the studios I attend. I didn't reach it, but it was because I found some teachers that I really liked and I kept going back to their classes.
In searching out more yoga instructors, I found another studio further north. This one offered a work-exchange program. I essentially volunteer for a few hours and get unlimited yoga classes. The thing is, though, I only attend once a week (maybe twice) because it's so far away. The style also isn't as interesting to me; it's much more traditional and we do yoga without music. The teachers are nonetheless very good and two of them are ones that travel around the country to teach. I didn't realize this, but Tucson has incredibly reputable teachers in the area. Go figure.
I don't know if I love-love yoga, like I loved ballroom and latin, but it's becoming an influential life practice for me nonetheless. It takes grace, strength, and perseverence to perform it well; and as I push myself to attain those qualities, it teaches me unforgettable life lessons, many of which I plan to share here (get excited!).
Here are some photos of my home-away-from-home:
It began as a way for me to get some exercise cheaply. It had been months since I'd been to a gym and I wasn't dancing. I also had a job I didn't like (working at the restaurant) and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. These two things turned me to depression and I had no inclination to get out and walk around. I was feeling sick with myself one day and just decided to take a yoga class. I tried out a studio downtown at the recommendation of a coworker and ended up loving it.
The studio is Yoga Oasis. They teach mainly Anusara style, which someone described as "yoga on prozac" (not far from the truth). Apart from lifting my mood, though, the teachers inspire me and the classes are creative. Depending on whose classes you go to, you receive short lessons in philosophy (with an intense workout), laugh at witty remarks, or listen to club/dance music - like the music below. Sometimes all of the above.
In searching out more yoga instructors, I found another studio further north. This one offered a work-exchange program. I essentially volunteer for a few hours and get unlimited yoga classes. The thing is, though, I only attend once a week (maybe twice) because it's so far away. The style also isn't as interesting to me; it's much more traditional and we do yoga without music. The teachers are nonetheless very good and two of them are ones that travel around the country to teach. I didn't realize this, but Tucson has incredibly reputable teachers in the area. Go figure.
I don't know if I love-love yoga, like I loved ballroom and latin, but it's becoming an influential life practice for me nonetheless. It takes grace, strength, and perseverence to perform it well; and as I push myself to attain those qualities, it teaches me unforgettable life lessons, many of which I plan to share here (get excited!).
Here are some photos of my home-away-from-home:
Labels:
Journey,
Tucson Living,
Yoga
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