The Figure Eight

People think it’s a great thing to have a flexible body. I guess it’s nice when you need to perform circus yoga tricks, but rarely an occasion will arise when you’ll be asked to perform The Scorpion for a bunch of people. Being super flexible can be kind of sucky sometimes, because it’s a lot harder to actually feel a stretch and release tension. So when I find new “moves” that I can really feel, it’s pretty exciting.

Like the majority of today’s working folk, I sit in front of a computer for about eight hours a day. My neck and shoulders get scrunched up and I can feel it in my lower back. I found an excellent move today that sent blood rushing to my spinal extremities. Check it out, The Figure Eight:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsQIpiKx2f8&NR=1

It’s the 2nd move, you’ll have to wait a bit to get to it. Remember to breathe.

Feeling Sorry For My Self

I burst into tears on Friday night because I miss my family. Though I’ve lived away from home since I was seventeen, this is the first time I’ve lived in another country, somewhat permanently, without the freedom to fly home whenever I feel the urge. It was one of those uncontrollable sobs that feel really good but guiltily indulgent.

I spoke to my mother earlier that day and she asked me if I needed any money. I said no, because I really don’t, but it triggered something in me, something that made me want to say yes – take care of me! I’m a grown woman but I still want to be babied.

When I calmed down and stopped thinking about everything – about where I live, what I do, where I’m from, where I am now – I felt silly (but still sad) because I realized that I hold on dearly to ideas of what I perceive as “me”. For so long I’ve been a daughter, a sister, a Canadian, a student….and now that I have new labels forced on me – producer, writer, Canadian with visa, alien…my mind is confused and my body mistakes this for suffering.

I found this video of Shakti Mhi, whom I studied with for my yoga Teacher Training Course. She explains the whole concept of the Self quite well.

I’m fine now. It was a good cry and I needed it.

Sweet Ganesha

Jaya Ganesha

I am wrapped up in a grass colored shawl with little Ganeshas printed all over it. I’ve kicked off my flip-flops and I’m bundled into a ball on my office chair, shivering.

For the first time in two years, I am coming down with some sort of bug. I can feel it creeping up in the back of my throat, scratching at my sinuses, and pumping chills through my body.

The last time I was sick, I was on assignment in downtown Toronto, reporting on tow-truck drivers who lost their operating licenses. I arrived late for the hearings, ended up missing the story, and stayed for half a day digging up records from the secretarial office. I wrote a really good, juicy story in the end (as juicy as municipal courts can be), but probably drained my inner resources, as I wound up sick in bed that night, unable to move, shivering and miserable.

At 1 in the morning, I gathered enough strength in myself to throw on a few layers of sweaters and pants, made my way to the street and walked to the emergency room. I remember feeling so alone, with no one to call, and I laid in the hospital bed crying.

It turned out to be a 24-hour thing and I felt better by the next night.

There is nothing in me today that feels like crying. I might feel cold and weak, but my heart is pumping with joy that it’s Friday, and that I will be able to go home in a few hours, get in bed, and snuggle with my favorite person.

Ganesha is the son of Siva, and he is very loyal. He has a round belly because he likes to eat sweets, and his nature is also very sweet.

Om?

Picking flowers at the Sivananda Ashram in Woodbourne, NY

I left Atlanta last Thursday with a heavy mind. Thoughts ran through my head like ants on spilled syrup and I was ready to get back down to earth.

I spent my July 4th weekend at the Sivananda Yoga Ashram in Woodbourne, NY. I met a best friend there, who flew in from Buffalo. We rented a car and drove 3 hours through holiday traffic from the Newark airport and arrived in time for the rain. It was dark, wet, and neither of us felt like setting up camp that day. I had a migraine from the car-ride and was ready to sleep.

Life in Danger? Make a Cup of Tea.

What do you do when you’re confronted with a knife-wielding thief?

Breathe. Stay Calm. Make him a cup of tea?

That’s exactly what one woman did in Japan, after she and her six-month-old baby found themselves in the frightening situation. The thief barged his way into her apartment, and instead of freaking out, she made him a cup of tea and listened to him talk.