This morning I spent two hours with Diane Bruni at Downward Dog in Toronto working with Zaa Bands to focus on aligning and energizing our feet. As with many moments in yoga over the past dozen years, this morning I focused intently on lifting my arches, spreading my toes, rooting my big toe, working to feel grounded. My fingers would mimic my desired foot action, but often my feet would just get fatigued without much result. Sometimes I would feel overwhelmed with thoughts like What if I can never fix my feet and always struggle with just the foundation of things? Often I was self-critical and defeated (no pun intended) by thoughts like What kind of yogi am I, not even able to stand much less fly? Needless to say, today was two hours of frustrating melded with good learning … when I could stop feeling frustrated.

My feet, my foundations, are flawed. They don’t support me the way they were built to, and I feel that ricochet up my entire being. But these are true yoga moments. Life will always be full of temptations to quit, judge, compare, be held back, wane or simply make things harder by adding drama/dukkha. The practice isn’t just in lifting my arches; it’s in lifting my awareness. Feeling my physical foundation as weak was an opportunity to recognize why I often feel insecure, unstable, tired by the effort of basic living, and truly not sure-footed in life as well.

Like most women subjected to the daily assault of messages in our culture telling us how we should be, look, do, think, dress, laugh, speak, move, blah blah, I’ve fallen under the tire of self-degradation. I wish my body were less bony, my butt less ample, my feet less gimpy. I have wasted so much of my energy trying to fit the cut-out of ‘the perfect woman’, for whatever that brings us. But instead of letting that self-talk destabilize me, what I was really practicing today was the art of standing on My Own two feet. I directed my fluctuating mind, quieted my emotionality and focused instead on what I could learn, what I might heal, how to work with My body, not to make it into someone else’s version of what it apparently “should” be but to make it the best version of Me it can be.

This is no small task. It often feels like it is my duty to self-loathe, as though if I were to say I’m fine just as I am that I’d be quitting on the noble deed of trying to be more like the woman I’m “supposed” to be. But WTF is that about? Why accept this bullshit pursuit? Will I really never find love unless I have larger breasts? Will I really only achieve what I desire if I fit the bill set out for me by Vogue? Who am I becoming by succumbing to these ridiculous scripts?

You know what I’d prefer? I’d prefer to stand up - on my own two currently-gimpy feet, might I add - in the midst of this crap and say, “I’m going to spend time working on having stronger feet instead of worrying about them being prettier. I’m going to decide that I can be exactly who I am and that will be just damn fine. I’m going to unplug from this Matrix BS and start living a life where my net worth isn’t determined by my cup size. Now who’s with me!!”

Man, I wonder what’ll happen when we Zaa Band my core!

Fast forward a few years and here I am starting to see what he meant, learning about what it really means to be vulnerable.

First lesson: Turns out feeling vulnerable and being vulnerable are different things. I’ve felt frighteningly at risk in the world for as long as I can remember. Then I went through a period of time where this sense was honed to a razor’s edge due to having most of my trusted boundaries crossed. During that time I felt utterly devoid of armour. I’d sit across from people in a café and my mind would be thinking, “The only thing keeping this person from reaching across this table and punching me in the face is social convention and lack of motive.” Try walking around with that kind of mentality and see how long it takes before you start to develop a strategy for being a bit less unguarded. Trust me, it doesn’t take long.

I spent years learning to become whole again after that time and eventually I started to understand that I’d played a part in allowing that situation. This wasn’t blaming the victim; this was me recognizing that I had an element of control over events and could influence whether something that negative ever happened again. Getting out of destructive circles of people, taking BJJ, letting go of my love affair with extremism and being a victim, and setting higher standards for myself - not to mention learning how to say ‘no’ when it’s in my best interest - all went a long way toward me realizing that I’d been standing in a lava flow because I walked into it in many ways. I had been vulnerable because I didn’t know how to find my way to safe places. Once I’d figured out how to navigate around danger zones I drastically reduced how at-risk I was.

Trick is I still felt like I could be in danger at any time. So my personality - my samskara - developed around this sense and instead of just becoming wiser when it came to self-protection, a high level of guardedness became my norm. I’d put myself out of reach, and when I felt I needed to justify doing so, I’d step into being vulnerable completely unskillfully, get hurt, and then say, “See? Vulnerability is stupid and I’m not stupid. I’ll just be up here in my tower thank you very much.”

I thought I’d figured it out. I was going through life relatively drama-free. Perfect. My life was nice and simple, not messed up with other people’s crap. I hadn’t signed up for messy processes like motherhood or marriage where people hurt each other all the damn time. I was free. I was responsible for myself and I could care about others without anyone actually needing me (or me needing them). I’d mastered the art of self-sufficiency.

Then I started asking myself what I’m really doing here - in my life, on this planet. Am I here to scoot through relatively scott-free? Is the point of my time here to just float above life, analyzing and critiquing how others are doing with that whole “full engagement” thing while I observe from my café seat, Americano in hand?

Well, yeah, in a way it has been the point. I like being independent, and losing my drama was a huge improvement on being lost in my drama. For a while I needed to prove to myself that boundaries could work and I could get back on my feet and be okay. Sitting in coffee shops buried in a book was a pretty damn good antidote to having dudes running around threatening to kill my family members.

But now it’s time for a little better balance. Now I’m realizing that, ironically, staying in that comfy chair is making me more vulnerable because I’ll be living to avoid things rather than learning how to skillfully navigate them. I’ll be nurturing my weakness instead of developing the strength of character that being vulnerable in the world can create when done with awareness and loving-kindness.

Today’s lesson: Being vulnerable without being weak. How do I wander back to the warmth and life of the volcanoe without being burned? Well, first I won’t hurl myself into the mouth of it. Patience with myself is key. I don’t need to be in perfect balance right now, I just need to be a little more balanced today than I have been. The best way to strengthen a muscle is to work it a bit more each day and the best way to weaken or tear it is to do too much too quickly. The past few weeks it’s been all about staying in the moment, feeling vulnerable and just observing it. It’s amazing what can be learned by just being still and observing.

I stop and just breathe when I need to. I remind myself what my larger vision for msyelf is and I watch carefully that I reduce the amount of harm I might inflict on myself in the process. It’s some of the scariest shit I’ve ever experienced and a part of me hates it because being well-guarded feels really powerful, whereas this feels way too gushy and lovey-dovey for my liking. But it’s okay. I’ll find my own way - my tao - with this as well. It’s important to not be afraid of my life, of myself, of living.

http://video.msn.com/video.aspx?mkt=en-CA&vid=4e69ebaa-8bb1-4f89-9ae1-f39c93adb301

You don’t need any prep or background, it’s fine if you haven’t read Brendan’s books or even heard of him. He’s set up a website for the challenge that will be a series of videos and a short written section introducing you to the basis of vegan diet for optimum health and fitness that will serve as a simple guideline to help you succeed. He then gives you pointers and specific action steps which keep the diet changes managable and easy to incorporate. We will be blogging here on our experiences with the process so you’ll have plenty of support to make this significant step towards achieving a clearer, cleaner, stronger, more powerful life by challenging yourself to try on a new way of approaching food for just 30 days.

You’ll notice that Brendan has a uniquely Canadian persona - very relatable, unpolished and honest. His proof isn’t in his rhetorcial style - it’s in his results (read his bio here). If it doesn’t work, it was just a few weeks, but if it does work (and it has, for so many people), then you’ve just made a decision that’s radically altered your life for the better. Doesn’t that sound worth it? I definitely think so - that’s why I’m doing it. Let’s get better together! Woot!!

Right now I’ve got movement in my hips the likes of which I’ve never challenged them to have. This is causing shifts in my structure that are oft-times uncomfortable and even painful. My practice has been to stay the course, observe, modify when necessary, and stick with others on the same path to stay motivated. So what the hell does that parallel to off the mat?

One key difference, as a good friend of mine pointed out last week while I lamented indecision at his kitchen table, is that on the mat I have a definite purpose. I know why I’m there and what I’m doing when I get there: It’s called the Primary Series and I’m there to master it. Off the mat, I’m not yet sure I’ve connected with that definite purpose - or the necessary elements to making it real for me. I know it’s my passion to teach. I know I adore the people I’m working with in the YTT and all those who share mat time with me. But I watch person after person in my life connect with a partner, have kids, build picket fence lives, and I wonder if I’ll end up either always hanging with twentysomethings who haven’t hit that phase yet, if I’ll meet someone, or if I just go it alone, me and my breath and my constant terror at ending up poor and alone.

Hmm, that’s interesting: Maybe the key learning point right now for me isn’t what’s happening pose by pose on my mat, but the circumstances that got me there for 24 days so far. Maybe it’s that I’m doing it with people who are like-minded and so much of the energy to do it is coming from doing it with them. Would I be diving more boldly in my life if I had some sort to help give me the clarity I so desperately need? And where do I find it, or does it find me?

This morning’s practice is the second of 15, though, where I cut it short. Since Monday my right hamstring connection at the sit bone has been aching and unwilling to move fluidly for most of my practice. I’ve felt safe in moving through the series with it thus far, but this morning it felt like I’d tear it if I did one more rotational posture. I did full Surya A and B and the standing series to standing big toe, but at that point it was definitely a ‘bad pain’. The decision was simple: sivasana, eat well the rest of today, get in a good walk or short run and a good night’s rest, come back to it again tomorrow after a day of healing. I hate not getting in the full Primary Series, but better to listen and heal for today than push and have to recover for who knows how long. I’ve watched others do that in my time as an instructor and personal trainer and it just looks foolish. So, sivasana and a day of self-support it is.

I’ve noticed that many of the people doing this practice are having the same experiences: mostly we love the practice, but we’re also waking up to creaky hips, tight this-and-that, or twinges that we’ve had to rest. The other day I had a quote pop into my head while practicing: “Madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I think what this quote touches on is the concept of discernment.

It’s not useful to quit every time some inner voice says, “Let’s not do this today.” But it’s also not skillful to push through when the body says, “This movement is causing harm.” One of the benefits of extended yoga practice is the ability to still and quiet our minds. This is, in fact, a foundational goal of yoga. Once we’re able to silence the “thousand chattering monkeys” of the mind, we’re also able to differentiate specific thoughts, sensations, and feedback. For me this morning it wasn’t my Inner Whiner saying, “This is too haaaaarrrrd. Let’s just quiiiiiiiiit.” This morning was clearly a message directly from my right sit bone area that communicated stiffness at the edge of injury. Simple, direct, unemotional - just information. When I decided to stop, I trusted that decision, rather than questioning it.

I think we know instinctively how to listen to ourselves and distinguish between what’s good for us and what’s not. We just so often devote a lot of time to ignoring ourselves, dismissing our gut instinct, handing our power over to others telling us what to do, or doubting our own wisdom that we’ve grown dull and weak in the practice of hearing our own voice. If you’ve been struggling with inner critics, negotiators, chatter, self-doubt and madness, start again in this very moment with your breath. Take a full breath in and then let it out slowly. Notice how, when you just pay attention to your breathing, you land back in this present moment. Now imagine a full yoga practice where you have breath after breath just like that: focused, present, only the sound of the inhale and exhale. From there you’re freed from enslaving chatter one present moment at a time and you’ve begun to build the practice of listening again.

Studio Energi is open to anyone wishing to practice between 6:00-9:00am Tuesday through Sunday (so every day but Monday).

This is a Mysore-style challenge, which means it’s all self-led, personal practice. There is no teaching or chatting, though you’re welcome to ask me if you have a question about a specific pose.

I’ve printed off some sheets with yoga postures that you can use to guide you if you’re new to having a personal practice. They’re at the entrance to the studio space (not the main doors to the studio, but the side door into the actual yoga space).

You can come and practice as long and as often as you like within the available times. Even if you only have half an hour, you’ll get a lot more out of that than doing nothing!

Looking forward to seeing you there!

We all know some version of this experience: a mom gazing into her baby’s eyes; two people catching each other’s glance across a room for the first time; lovers waking; friends listening; someone who’s dying taking one last look at her family. And we’ve been on the other side of the spectrum as well: not being able to look into someone’s eyes; not being able to look ourself in the eye; feeling a piercing look. It’s a Rabbit Hole kind of journey when we choose to see each other’s souls.

And the key work is “choose”. A core element of the exercise discussed in the article is consensual vulnerability. Sharing a loving gaze is intense, intimidating, and intimate. I have gazed and been gazed at without reciprocity and it isn’t fun. Gazing makes you vulnerable, and only mutual vulnerability can create bonding that both people desire. An imbalance creates clinging or an urge to get out of the dynamic asap - not nearly as good a vibe. <shudder>

I did this exercise at a Rolf Gates seminar a few years ago with gazing but no speaking and it’s quite true: I felt deeply moved by my love and compassion for the person across from me, a woman I’d met 5 seconds before the exercise began.

It’s a remarkable experience. Give it a try and notice if you resist, and if you ultimately have the same results. I’d love to hear about it!