there is no path. just follow your heart

This one is perfectly times dear Friends. Enjoy these heart centered words from Miss Meredith Swim.

 

February holds a dear place in my heart. The entire Swim clan (besides me and the noble dogs, who are Scorpios) celebrate late January and February birthdays, so February in my Aquarius household has always meant family get-togethers, heart themed parties and a sweet abundance of birthday cake.

 

I also must share that I absolutely love Valentine’s Day. I totally dig the color scheme (hot pinks and flirty purples, hurray!), adore dark chocolate (especially organic with ginger pieces) and I heart-fully support a day that honors love in all its marvelous forms.

So, as I finish the last of bite of birthday cake and awe over valentines given to me by friends and family, I find myself thinking about the heart and all the curious, beautiful, frustrating and sometimes overwhelming emotions that dwell there.

 

As someone who lives in her heart, I am influenced and motivated by my feelings and my thoughts revolve around my present relationships. At times, (flashbacks to high school) my emotions can overpower me. My sensitivity can prompt me to be reactive instead of responsive to certain situations: “She said what?!! Well, I’m totally de-friending that chick!”

 

Hurray, Yoga arrives as a knight in shining armor! Yoga and meditation invite me to take breathing space from my feelings, allowing me to acknowledge (not suppress) them and understand the thought patterns and memories contributing to the intensity of an emotion. If I am caught in an emotional rut, I take a few conscious breaths, focus on my heart center and from there ask myself what I am really feeling about a current problem.

 

An answer always emerges.

During the day, I sometimes go on emotional autopilot. I can’t afford to be completely submerged in my feelings all day long, my homework would never get done! So, with the guidance of the breath to create a safe and nurturing space (one where my inner critic has been silenced or at least muffled), my emotional check-ins let me know what is going on in this heart of mine.

 

All arising feelings are welcomed, and the painful ones deserve an extra long deep breath, but they must come to the surface so I can rise. 

The heart is also very wise. Once the mind is peaceful, and the sticky emotions have been cleared, I ask my heart for guidance and the answer again always appears. If I am debating about going out or staying in, I imagine the scenarios and notice how I feel about each possible one. I allow my heart to decide. Feelings are intuitive creatures.

This February I intend on devoting some extra attention to my heart. I encourage you, yogis and blog travelers, to soften the voice of the mind and listen to the stirring whispers of your heart.

 

Maybe there are answers waiting to be heard. Or maybe you’ll be advised to treat yourself to a Hershey’s chocolate kiss or some lovely yoga time. ;)

never give up on a dream

Laura rockin' full wheel in Tulum, Mexico

 Enjoy this guest post by Laura Whitaker and I imagine you'll end up like me....inspired to dream a new dream. Or two.

"Never give up on a dream just because of the time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway."

-Earl Nightingale

With the start of the new year, we've all been hearing, talking, and dreaming about goals and resolutions. Things we want to do, habits we want to break, and lifestyles we want to cultivate. Maybe they aren't even resolutions but dreams we've had since last month. Or even years ago. 

 

Dreams of something small, something big, or something so freaking huge it's completely overwhelming. When our goals feel so huge and out of reach, we tend to shy away, save them for later, or think of excuses that they're not for us. 

 

Believe me, I'm the first to admit I have issues with this. I have definitely allowed myself to be be completely overwhelmed by my dreams and my goals - fearful of the big picture - so that's precisely why this has been on my mind and why I've been exploring it through my yoga practice. 

One of my recent classes focused on those small steps we can take to make our big goals actually happen. Those individual mindful breaths that add up to a full day of awareness. Those small adjustments we can take to make a pose more accessible or more comfortable. Those few breaths in downward-facing dog that eventually guide you toward a complete at-home yoga practice. 

 

Really, each small step toward that dream is an accomplishment in itself, right? We don't always have to look with anxiety and apprehension toward the end goal; rather, we can appreciate and applaud ourselves on each step of the journey that gets us there. 

 

Then, whether or not we actually accomplish that dream in the way we initially envisioned it, we are still doing inspiring and positive things for ourselves along the way. Pretty cool, huh? 

As Earl Nightingale says, "the time will pass anyway." The world didn't end as in 2012, and I'm willing to bet it won't come to an end anytime soon. There are too many beautiful things that have yet to happen. 

 

So 2013 will become 2014, and the years will continue to come and go, ebb and flow. We can either spend that time being idle and fearful of not reaching our end goals. Or we can just take small steps toward our big dreams and see what happens. 

 

So what are your 2013 goals? Your big dreams? And what are you doing to help yourself reach them? Remember, each little milestone is an accomplishment, so reward yourself with a few breaths in your favorite pose every step of the way :)

making space for All of it

Sher, Kris, Megan, and Misty at training in Outer Banks

Hopes
Goals
Resolutions
Intentions
Dreams
for the future

Not at the expense of, but in conjunction with

Acceptance
Presence
Permission
Imperfection
Joy
Gratitude
for the moment

That's what I'm curious about right now.

Wondering how is that we can make space for All of it.
How we can hold the intentions of our year with acceptance and gratitude for where we are now.

Which is yoga, right?

Atha yoganusanam....Now we begin the sacred practice of yoga.

gift from the sea

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.”  ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

 

Yesterday evening I stood at the waters edge and witnessed one of the most amazing sunsets I've ever seen. It was simply amazing. It's the photo directly above these words. The one with varying shades of orange, pink, blue, black, and white.

 

I've been blessed to visit with the ocean and sea seven times this year. Truly a gift for an ocean loving landlocked Kentucky girl. The pictures above are from my visits to the Atlantic Ocean, Pacific Ocean, Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean Sea.

 

I've gotten the best of both worlds....some trips were purely for fun and pleasure, some were for work, some were a combination of both.

 

I can't pick a favorite, but this trip I'm on now feels very poignant for many reasons.

 

The ocean is a place of miracles for me. I stand at the edge of water and it's hard for me to believe that such beauty exists in the world. After losing so much this season, I am slowly finding myself with each walk and each wave that washes to the shore. Each sunset whispers something new to my soul and helps me to feel connected to the loved ones we've lost.

 

This is the most precious gift of all this Christmas season, the most prized gift from the sea.

be gentle

I consider myself blessed  beyond measure to have awesome, wise, wholehearted, and compassionate teachers around me at Barefoot Works. Meredith Swim hits it outta the yoga ballpark with this one. Grab a cuppa hot liquid goodness and savor these words.

 

 

“Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.”

This beloved line from Max Ehrmann’s Desiderata gently guides me back to Self. Posted on the inside of my bedroom door (and for good reason), I catch snippets of the poem as I go about my day. Each time I read the line above, I am reawakened to its wisdom. The mental chatter dissolves as I take a conscious breath and I ground into the Present. I become aware of the emotional tension I’m holding in my shoulders, the anxiety grabbing my belly, and a tightness constricting my flow of my breath. My thoughts are a running wheel of negativity.

 

Be Gentle, the poem soothes. These past few months I’ve tried to be more compassionate toward myself, but just as Ehrmann advices it takes discipline to be gentle and kind to myself.

My Inner Critic (“Glee” fans, envision Sue Sylvester in the role) enjoys belittling my moments of triumph and amplifying my Bridget Jones mess-ups, such as referring to sequin skirts as sequence skirts in an email to a fashionista friend. “And you call yourself an English minor,” Sue sneers.

Cultivating compassion is not as sweet and rosy as I thought it once sounded. Instead of repressing the negative thought and replacing it with a cheery one, the Art of Compassion encourages me to greet the thought and deconstruct the threads of that misperception.

Similar to peeling back an onion, this unveiling process reveals old thought patterns and beliefs I’ve been harboring about my body and my personal worth. Sue’s voice sounds crueler and I can get easily believe in the unleashing of insecurities I’ve been holding onto since middle school (dang! I thought I was passed all that!!).

Here the real test begins and so does the genuine healing. I express compassion to the part of me that is self-conscious about my physical flaws. “Of course,” says the voice of Compassion (featuring Louise Hay, my favorite motivational healer), “in this competitive culture where you are constantly bombarded by images of perfected women how could you not be self-conscious about those scars on your legs?”

 

When I find my thoughts are self-sabotaging my personal worth, I travel back to the first time in elementary school I felt that pain. This journey to my fifth grade self is difficult. At times, I simply don’t want to revisit the memories, but that’s all the more reason to do so. I arrive to my Harry Potter loving fifth grade self and I tell her she’s worthy all happiness and greatness and that she is perfectly adequate. Her healing is my 22 year old self’s healing. So when I see that cute guy at the coffee shop I can feel truly worthy of his Ryan Gosling like smile (legit ;).

Max Ehrmann must have understood the inner Sue Sylvester to write, Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. Practicing compassion toward yourself takes discipline, but it’s a discipline that frees yourself from the baggage of unnecessary negativity and thus, invites greater empathy for others into your heart.

 

So, as the holiday rush arrives, may you, sweet Yogis and blog visitors, be gentle with yourselves. Remember you are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; You have a right to be here. And you have every right to hold yourself in a compassionate light. 

 

breath, yoga, and faith

I'm really proud of this yogini, Julie Ransdell (check out her open heart above). It's not an easy thing to share your story and risk being vulnerable. Julie does so beautifully here while weaving in breath, yoga, and faith in such a heartfelt way. 

This time last year I was frustrated and beginning the process of going to doctor appointments, taking daily medications, getting blood drawn and tested- all to figure out why I wasn’t getting pregnant. 
 
This year, I have a little baby girl heart beating in my belly.

What a difference time makes- what a difference yoga makes.

Even though Thanksgiving is over and the facebook statuses of thankfuls are drawing to a close and we are moving full speed ahead into the Christmas season, I cannot help but continue to be thankful for the last two years of my life. They have been the most difficult, the most heartbreaking, the most trying, and the most defying. 

My husband and I have spent a lot of time driving to Cincinnati for doctor visits, x-rays, procedures to help us become pregnant. So much money spent, so much time invested, so much medicine in my body.

I experienced my first sense of real panic during this time. Growing up in a house of girls with a stay at home mom made me long for the very same thing my whole life. A house full of babies, cooking, cleaning, playing, laughing... I never in a million years thought it would be so difficult to attain. 

I thought getting pregnant was going to be easy. 
 
The thing is though, after I realized how not easy it could be- I still had faith. And I still had my yoga practice- the very constant part of my life that aided me through those difficult times as well as these happy times today.

When I felt the panic bubbling up inside of me or the sadness welling up in my eyes, I was able to full on experience those moments with deep breaths and a sense of trust. 

It wasn’t always pretty but it was always real because if there is one thing I have learned from yoga it is how to be authentic with myself. I’m not always good at it but I’m always aware of it. 

Those deep breaths? They are reminders to settle in and listen to my heart, my soul, my spirit- my authenticity. That is what the mat is for- to bring us to our reality and our truest breath.

Pregnancy has not been a walk in the park either. Lots of sickness, frustration, sleeplessness, and fear. My yoga practice has suffered severely and at first, it made me feel like a “bad” yogini. 

I quickly realized that these intentional breaths I take before bed and when I wake in the morning, these pauses to drop my shoulders and sit up a little taller are all a part of the yoga practice and all that is asked of me in this universe, by my God, and my community is that I do the best I can and try to be fully present.

With so much hurt and despair that surrounds us, it can be so easy to get caught up. To ask why? To think that things are not fair. While those are real and honest emotions to have, yoga shows us that taking time to sit and be mindful can provide insight beyond the questions. 

It shows us that being in the moment allows us to experience the hard times and good times with a full heart.

Now, at 21 weeks pregnant (naturally!!), I am fully present to the fact that life is fragile and life is magical and when I sit on my mat in Sukasana with my hands in prayer, life accepts all parts of my authentic self.

learning how to bend without breaking

Greetings Dear Soul,

Tonight I'm thinking about creativity, unexpected relief, the difference between grief and mourning, and what it's like having your heart broken over and over each day.

Yea, it's realllly fun living in my head these days.

Luckily for you I'm sharing my world of creativity over the weekend. And the art of bending without breaking. Something I make no claims on being an authority on.

Weeks ago I signed up to participate in two days of virtual programs with Jennifer Lee, author of The Right Brain Business Plan (in which I'm a facilitator).

I went back and forth over whether or not I'd have the energy to participate. I sent Jenn an email before we began and explained the head (and heart) space I was in.

I made an agreement with myself that I'd participate with no expectations. I'd hold each day and the process very lightly. I'd take as many breaks as I needed. I'd quit, call it a day early if needed.

This my Friend is not how I would have approached this in the past. I would have stuck to the schedule because that's what "good" students do. I would have forced my focus (and been upset with myself if it was less than I expected). I would NOT have quit early. Not. An. Option.

Damn straight, I'd have been miserable first.
Silly, I know.

Due to recent circumstances, I had no other choice. I had to give myself freedom. Wiggle room.

The truth is, I don't have the energy to force anything these days.

Something shifted for me this weekend and I felt more energy and excitement around work than I have in a long time. This was totally unplanned and unexpected.

I'm not sure what it was....
The awesome people I met and interacted with all over the world.
Jenn's fantastic facilitating.
My excitement about work.
The space I allowed myself.
The permission to bail out early.

The truth is since the (still)birth of baby Nico I've had to make a conscious effort NOT to use planning for the future as an escape mechanism, a way to gloss of my loss. This is my "blindspot", my go to pattern, my particular way of escaping pain and any other unwelcome emotion.

"Nothing to see over here. I'm not sad. I've got things to plan and places to go."

What I noticed this weekend was that I wasn't using my creativity, my planning to stuff my feelings and emotions. I was not over riding, skipping over sadness. My work upstairs in my sweet sacred (and messy!) space felt authentic and in the moment.

 

 

 

I'm oh so grateful for that time and now I'm wondering....
How might my energy, aliveness, and the process in general shift by holding the process lightly.
What if I give myself permission to try then bail out as needed?

Most of all, how can I continue to bend without breaking?

thank you beautiful people

Of Love 

I have been in love more times than one,
thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting
whether active or not. Sometimes
it was all but ephemeral, maybe only
an afternoon, but not less real for that.

They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
or anyway beautiful people to me, of which
there are so many.

You, and you, and you,
whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe
missed.

Love, love, love, it was the
core of my life, from which, of course, comes
the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned
that some of them were men and some were women
and some — now carry my revelation with you —
were trees. Or places. Or music flying above
the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun
which was the first, and the best, the most
loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
my eyes, every morning.

So I imagine
such love of the world — its fervency, its shining, its
innocence and hunger to give of itself — I imagine
this is how it began.
~Mary Oliver

I'm sitting here at the treehouse, preparing to teach my first class in what has been my longest hiatus from my/our beloved yoga studio.

I can't help but be filled with thanks and gratitude for all the beautiful people in my life and the amazing support shown for Andy and myself.

We've received cards and flowers. Flowers that took my breath away for a few moments because they were just that glorious. We've received angel wings, journals, sparkly pens, food, phone calls, messages, daily texts, and more.

Guess what?  We even got a poem. A poem that I've printed and posted on our fridge for us to see every day. Maybe one day I'll share it here.

Sweet souls offered us with their time and energy and gifts. Healing sessions, massage, and more. And these amazing treehouse teachers (plus Erin and Lisa) who swooped in quickly, graciously, lovingly to take care of all things Barefoot Works? I adore them, love them, thank them.

And for all the friends who didn't quite know what to say. The ones who thought they would say the wrong thing. The ones who stayed away because it was all just too much.... Andy and I felt your love and we know you too were simply doing the best you could doing unbearable times.

For this and more I am eternally thankful for the beautiful people swirling around in my universe.

It's taken my mind and heart a few weeks to catch up with the beauty and bigness of all of this love. Of all of You. But little by little, day by day, I'm getting there.

Such love in the world.
Such love of the world.

If yoga is really all about union and connection.
Well, I think we've got that covered.

Thank you.

xo,
sharon

 

don't grieve, anything you lose comes around in another form

 

Little did I know what the year would hold when I scribbled these words on a napkin on the first day of 2012.

I can’t say I’ve listened to Rumi’s advice of “don’t grieve”, but the latter portion is serving up daily support.

A reminder to look everywhere I go, eyes looking, heart opening to the possibility of this idea…..

What you lose today comes back in another form.

The flowers in my garden look like they are dead. They are brown and brittle, lacking any signs of their former vibrant life. The tulips come up early every spring and for several weeks they fill my heart with such simple joy. When they wither and die I feel a little sad. If only they could blossom year round, I occasionally think to myself.  

Letting go is not easy for me.

Yet they are burrowed deep in the earth, dead to my eyes, but some part of me trusts that come spring they will once again make their miraculous and beautiful appearance. Undoubtedly they will appear different than the year before. The size, shape, and shade of color will depend on the nourishment they received from the rain, sun, and such.

I love the fall season when the leaves put on a dazzling show for all to enjoy. The trees are adorned with red, gold, yellow, and orange leaves. What is it about a bright orange leaf on the ground that causes us to pause, take a longer look, tilt our head back and for a moment appreciate all that is right in the world.

The colors of the leaves, the way the light dances across the sky during the fall season make me swoon. Undoubtedly, when the trees are naked, standing in all their glory, I can’t help but feel a little sad. If only we had more time to witness the magic of the color of the fall season.

Letting go is not easy for me.

Yet the leaves that fall to the ground, the ones that rest on the bed of the earth in their dazzling colors will turn brown and brittle. They appear dead to me.

Yet each day I am seeing that they are not dead. Some leaves hold the seeds that will become future trees. Some leaves provide a home and nourishment for other life. All of them will decompose and contribute to the livelihood of future trees and plants.

And so it is with Nico Joseph Tessandori.  Our “hello-goodbye” baby boy.

The lines of his beginning and ending are a blur and for this I’m comforted, I’m thankful.

His beginning was not his birth. Nor was it day 120 when the Vedas say the baby in the womb receives his/her soul. Nor was it Nico’s conception.

Was his beginning the moment Andy and I dreamed him up? The moment we were a full, enthusiastic, outright, “hell yea we want to have a baby!”

Or was his beginning part of our parents beginning? Or our ancestors?

And his ending?  It’s all even more mysterious.

All I know is that he feels more and more real, more present with me each passing day. He lives on in my body, my mind, and most certainly my heart.

Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk says this in relationship to death….

“If you are locked into the idea of a separate self, you have great fear. But if you look and you are capable of seeing “you” everywhere, you lose that fear. I have practiced as a monk. I have practiced looking deeply every day. I see me in my students. I see me in my ancestors. I see my continuation everywhere in this moment. I have not been able to go back to my country in the past thirty years. I left Vietnam in order to call for peace, to stop the killing, and I was not allowed to go home by many succeeding governments. Yet I feel that I am there, very real. I don’t’ have that kind of painful feeling of a person being in exile because friends of mine go to Vietnam, and new monks and nuns are there. I see myself in them. I don’t think that I am not present in Vietnam right now, just as I do not think that I will cease to be someday.”

Nico lives on by the ways he has changed me as a mother, wife, daughter, sister, and friend.

He lives on by the ways he has changed me as a teacher. While it’s certainly not clear for me, I know my trajectory as a teacher is changing and evolving each day.

Nico lives on by the ways he is serving, teaching, and healing others.

I lost count at 150 emails I’ve gotten from friends, family, and students. The majority of those were from other women and men sharing their story of loss with me. Many of them thanked me for “naming what it was they experienced.” Some expressed their regret in closing down during this time of being broken open. Nico’s story was helping them to bring closure to their own story.

A dear friend said this to me in an email, “I have been floating you through my mind in my yoga practice and tears have rolled down my cheeks as I imagine the pain that you and Andy are feeling. I have been angry at God and asked the Universe why? My own fear has showed up and I can tell you have a powerful teacher in your little one because his teachings are rippling out.”

Undoubtedly, I am sad that Andy and I didn’t get more time with our little one.

Letting go is not easy for me….

But each day I’m learning how to lean into letting go of “the Nico” I previously imagined.

 

Each and every day I practice letting go of the life I dreamed up with him.

Each and every day I keep my heart open to the lessons he is teaching me.

Each and every day I look around to see, hear, and feel Nico’s presence.

Each and every day I’m mustering up trust in the words of Rumi, that what we’ve lost will indeed come back around to us in another form.



go ahead, be Self centered

Please enjoy this guest post by the awesomeface Kate Dorvel. She writes about one of my favorite ideas and practices....putting "yourSelf on your to-do list" and she makes a pretty compelling case for why you should. Insert a nod to Orpah Winfrey for introducing this idea to me many years ago. Grateful for her and the wisdom of Kate's post today. Enjoy Friends.

 

In this season of movement and transition does it feel like you are over extended, stretched too thin, drained of all energy? You are undoubtedly not the only one. We begin to sign up for this, commit to that, volunteer for this and quite frankly tend to do everything for everyone else, until you sit down at the end of your day to eat, what probably should be dinner at 9pm and wonder, what the hell did I do today?

The other day, Craig asked me how my day was, and I actually had to say “hold on a second, I need to think about what I did.” I couldn’t believe that I actually had to perseverate on what had transpired over the day!

 

I was so energetically drained that I wasn’t sure which end was up or down, I didn’t want to eat the meal I just cooked, I just wanted my glass of WINE and BED.

 

Occasionally you get to the point where your to-do list incorporates things for your home, partner, children, animals, boss, friends, yard etc . Very infrequently are you on your to-do list, am I right? The result often is an inability to give anymore to anyone(including you), a feeling of exhaustion, slight depression?, maybe even getting sick?

 

As I mentioned above, the cause is giving all of our energy to others, but without reserving any of it for ourselves.

The best way, that I have found, to counteract this is meditation.

Now, now, don’t get scared. My practice is not laiden with meditation, nor do I consider myself particularly “good” at it – if there is such a thing. Let me rephrase – the best way, that I have found, to counteract this is sitting quietly with oneself once a day for five to ten minutes and attending to my breath.

For me, this helps me to RE-CENTER. Otherwise I go 100% with my brain and body never check in with my spirit and my heart. And how can you be the best that you can be if you aren’t working from a place of intention? Even if you are remembering to do everything, you may not be doing it as well as you could be, simply because you are ignoring yourself.
 

For a lot of people, women in particular, mom’s/career enthusiasts or both (to name only two) in more particular, this is considered to be SELFISH – yikers, now there is a bad word! We never want to be described as selfish, oh no, no. If we are selfish, then those around must be neglected! I interject – FALSE.

I invite you to BE SELFISH for ten minutes a day. Get yourself SELF-CENTERED.

 

Sit comfortably and quietly with yourself once a day (try for first thing in the morning), close your eyes and just breathe. If the thoughts come just let them go, nothing more and nothing less.

 

Deepen and lengthen your breath and listen to your heart. If you want, set a timer - put a gentle tone to draw you back - then you aren’t peeking at your phone every 30 seconds to see if you’re done yet.  

 

Try it.

 

You have nothing to lose if it doesn’t work for you, but I have an idea that you will feel notably better – body, mind, spirit and heart. You will be all of you, more present in each endeavor with each person you love.

 

All love begins with self love.

4 easy steps to creating your own practice

I'm delighted by this blog post by Misty Pittman. And you should be too, it's a wee bit lighter than the last two entries. ;)  I seriously can't think of anything more worthwhile than starting your own yoga practice (at home). So roll out your mat, take a seat, savor three breaths and call it a practice....because it is. Enjoy my Friends. Thank you Misty for your encouraging ways and words. How cute is her lil dog?

 

 

 

Do you have a hOMe yoga practice? Have you been thinking about starting one? Maybe you recently read Sarah's article about starting a daily spiritual practice. Or maybe the shorter days and cooler evenings mean you are retreating at home more and skipping practice at the studio. Or maybe you just want to supplement your studio classes with some solo sessions at home, but you have no idea how to start.
 

If you’re like me, you will put it off and put it off and put it off, coming up with every excuse why you can't start a hOMe practice just yet. It took me years to establish a regular practice that I felt confident about, and all it took was 6 little words that Sharon shared in a workshop: "I practice yoga in my bathroom." It shattered all my reasons for why I wasn't ready to start.
 

Having a hOMe practice is a great way to deepen your connection with your body, mind, and spirit. And it's super easy. Here are my tips for creating a successful and fun yoga practice at home.
 

Excuse 1 - I don't know what to do.
 

Oh yes you do. Trust me. Start with one pose. Maybe it's your favorite pose, downward dog. Hold the pose, feel it in your body, breathe into it. Maybe you stop there. Or maybe your body instinctually wants to move to child's pose. Great, do that. Maybe you notice some stiffness in your back and realize that some cat/cows would feel fabulous. And then you remember that really cool pose your teacher taught last night and you decide to try it.
 

Don't worry about following a planned sequence, or about counterposes, or doing a Sun Salutation in perfect order. At home, there are no rules. Start with savasana if you want. Let your body guide you. It will tell you exactly what it needs if you take time to get quiet and listen. 
 

If you are new to yoga or just don't want to have to think about your practice, there are hundreds of dvds and online videos to guide you. A couple of online resources that I personally love and use when I just want to move and not think about where I'm going are Yogaglo and Yogavibes. Both offer free trial periods, and their monthly rates are affordable. Both sites also offer a wide range of styles and offer a beginners section that breaks down individual poses in detail.
 

Excuse 2 - I don't have the time.
 

3 breaths. That's all the time you need. Not every practice needs to be a 75 minute sweat session. Step on your mat, strike a pose, hold it for 3 breaths. Or 5. Or 5 minutes. There is nothing that says your yoga practice has to be a certain length and has to include a set number of poses. Maybe the only thing you do all day is legs-up-the-wall before bed. Or you start your day with a reclined baddha konasana (bound angle) before you even get out of bed.
 

The only thing that matters is that you do it mindfully. Standing in tree pose while brushing your teeth is fun, but can you do it with a mindful awareness? Whether you spend 5 minutes, 30 minutes, or 2 hours indulging in some yoga, the key is to allow yourself the gift of being fully present, letting go, and surrendering to the universe.
 

Excuse 3 - I don't have a special place in my home.
 

This was my favorite excuse every time I thought about starting a practice. I felt like my home practice needed to be highly personal and spiritual. I was sure that unless I had an altar, with burning incense, in a space that was large and beautiful, well then I certainly couldn't have a meaningful practice. I had to have my very own trendy yoga room. Cue the infamous 6 words... "I practice yoga in my bathroom.". I thought, if my yoga teacher, who is an expert at making spaces feel sacred and special could practice in her teeny, tiny bathroom, then by heck I could, too.
 

All you need is enough space for a yoga mat. It's nice to light candles, burn incense, beautify the space with pretty pictures and sacred mementos, but these are not necessary. When I finally started, I had reduced my “requirements” to just having privacy. So I practice in the bedroom. My view is a closet door. Sometimes there are distractions and these become a part of my practice. Let your yoga be a reflection of real life, a daily practice that fits in with your lifestyle, rather than a separate ritual that becomes hard to achieve on a daily basis.
 

Excuse 4 - I don't have any props.
 

Do you have a yoga mat? That's the only prop you need. Firm blankets (think quilts and heavy throws), small pillows (decorative couch pillows work well), towels, chairs, even stacked books can all be substitutes for bolsters, blocks, and straps. If using props helps make your yoga accessible, but you would rather not invest in them, get creative with what you have around the house.
 

And that's it. Pretty easy, eh? It's fabulous to soak up a class at a pretty studio, where a teacher expertly guides you through an uplifting 75 minute session. But it's also fabulous to make yoga accessible to yourself every day, even if it's only standing in mountain pose, in a teeny, tiny bathroom, palms together in front of your heart, inhaling and exhaling through 5 delicious breaths. It's profound. It's magical. It matters.
 

Make it fun, keep it simple, and stay present.

 
 

Namaste

 

Thank you Misty. As the days get shorter and the temps drop lower, I will once again find myself rolling my yoga mat out in teeny tiny bathroom, taking a seat, and savoring my breath. And this sweet and simple little act will save me, over and over.

inviting sadness, shame, & sorrow in

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi ~

Morning time is the hardest. I wake up and invariably the first thought I have is around the death of our baby boy. It’s either the dreadful words, “unfortunately there is no heartbeat” or it’s meeting and saying good-bye to him in the very same moment.

The thoughts I wake up to are mostly the same. It’s my feelings and emotions that change day to day, moment to moment, even breath by breath.

I’m trying to heed Rumi’s advice and “welcome them all”, something I’ve been working on for quite some time.

Some days there is sadness.

Other days there is shame.

Anger rears its head from time to time

Fear and worry have woven their way into my mind.

I’m simply sitting with the feelings and emotions as they come. Rather than stuffing, quieting, and resisting them, I allow them to be.  Sometimes I give the emotions permission to get bigger. I sob till I feel like the big blue house will come crumbling down. I stomp my feet till I feel like the earth can take back some of this pain. I write all the shameful stories and thoughts I have about myself and this experience. I listen to music that I know will help- my body to release the weight, the heaviness of the past weeks.

Then the timer goes off and I come back up for air.

I know myself well enough to know that once I go down deep into the emotions, I must have a container around it. Otherwise I’ll spend the whole day sobbing on my yoga mat. Andy would come home and find me a mess….and well it would be very, very bad.

That container is a time limit and a timer. The first day into my grieving retreat I could only experience (insert any heart wrenching emotion here) for about three minutes. Day by day this number has increased to ten minutes. The amount of time I need in between “breaking down” has also varied. But it’s happening on and off all throughout the day.

You might be wondering why I’m choosing to torture myself so?

 It’s because I refuse to let something so big happen in my life without breaking my heart wide open with the hope that I will be kinder and somehow a better human being as a result.

I refuse to sleep through this. I refuse to numb myself out.  I refuse to busy myself with work, to fill my days with useless activity.

Mostly I refuse to let the life of this little boy pass me by without changing me for the better.

I choose to accept the shame, the sadness, and sorrow with the faith that I am being cleared out for some future delight.

I trust in that.

I believe it with my whole heart.

 

my story of loss + intentions for healing

 

One week ago today, Andy (my husband) and I found ourselves in what felt like an impossible predicament. Andy was adorned with every token of good luck we’ve accumulated over our 14 year relationship.

In his pants pocket was our “magic rock”, a rock we picked up together on a small island in Texas. In his shirt pocket was a small cross the reads “Jesus Christ, a token from his father’s funeral one month ago. Around his neck he wore mala beads that were blessed by my teacher. On his forehead, a light dusting of ashes from a sacred fire that’s been burning in India for over 500 years.

Yet no amount of good luck, no magic potion, no token, no talisman could change these four words uttered by the doctor…..

“Unfortunately, there’s no heartbeat.”

In an instant, our world was rocked.  Our lives forever changed. Our precious baby boy was gone. My mind racing, “No it can’t be” while my body was already accepting that yes, it was indeed true. Dreadfully true.

A few days ago I found myself flipping through an old journal. I found these words scribbled, “Sometimes when our minds and bodies are shattered by life, it’s only the spirit that can knit us whole and keep us alive.”

My body feels defeated. My mind feels shattered. My heart, broken.

I’ve screamed. I’ve sobbed. I’ve stomped. I’ve shaken my fist at God more than once. Yet, even in my greatest moments of sorrow I can hear the quiet whisper of my spirit telling me I am not beaten, shattered, or damaged.

I pause. Draw my attention inward. Take a breath. And feel the peaceful, perfect presence of my spirit. Untainted, never defeated, always pure perfection. Then the reality of my loss sets in and I sob some more. Tis the way of grieving, right?

I’m blessed to have a team of teachers around me willing to support me. I’ve decided to take two weeks off from teaching to begin this journey to healing. To do so I will take a retreat unlike any other retreat I’ve ever taken.

Over the course of several years I’ve taken a variety of retreats….

Silent retreats, business retreats, retreats for cleansing, retreats to close out the year, and retreats to greet and set intentions for the New Year.

Never have I taken a retreat to grieve. Who wants to do that? Yet here I find myself with a complete knowingness that there is no way around this loss I’ve suffered. I must go straight through the darkness. The loss, anger, sorrow, and fear if I am to find my way to the light.

I’m armed with my intentions and a plan for grieving. It includes twice daily meditations, holding yoga asanas (poses) while literally letting go, self-massage, therapy, juicing, walking, reflecting, journaling, connecting with family and friends, reading poetry, taking long hot baths, talking to teachers and mentors, snuggling Andy and our dogs, and more.

I’m one day into my grieving retreat and I can tell you it’s been the most emotional and intense work I’ve ever done. I’ve gone through more tissues than you can imagine, burned nearly an entire candle, drank gallons of hot tea, walked my doggy’s legs off, and savored a delicious white chocolate truffle.

I can already say without a doubt, this is the most important work I’ve done in my entire life. It truly feels as if all the “work” I’ve ever done was just prep work for this moment. The trainings, the workshops, the retreats, the reflecting, the lessons, the learning, the practices, the tools, the yoga, the meditation….

All for this moment right now. I don’t intend to let any of it go to waste.

If you’ve read this far you might be wondering what all this had to do with yoga? Yoga is the full expression of the moment, right here, right now (atha). Yoga is being with the full range of life’s experiences and being honest about all of it (satya). Yoga is reflecting on that which presents itself in your life (swadhyaya). Yoga is coming up with a plan to move forward and taking action (tapas). Yoga is trusting that even in times of turmoil God, The Universe, The Divine (whatever you want to call it) has your back (ishvara pranidhana).

Thank you for allowing me to share my story. I am deeply appreciative. My heart goes out to you and any loss you’ve ever encountered. May we all learn from the past and move forward with a fierce and loving heart.

with love,

sharon

{I sent this email out this morning to people on our Barefoot Works newsletter list. The outpouring of love and support has been overwhelming in the sweetest of ways. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.}