28 August 2011

Barefoot in Boston: Real Life Beyond Mobile Upload (or in other words: Why I'm a Yogi)

by Stephanie F. Earls

New England has had an interesting summer: its own version of tornado alley in June, sympathy shakes from an earthquake centered in Virginia last week and as I write, remnants of Hurricane Irene soaking us.

In each case, from our separate spaces, we have reached out to hear from each other. Are you safe? Is it crazy there? What did you feel?  Seeing through the hype of news reports and having the internet at our fingertips (assuming electricity), we've turned to our most trusted sources: facebook, twitter, email, text message, to find out how things are going around the country and the world.  We have shared mobile uploads showing each other what we see or what we are doing.  And yet with this ability to share there is an element of our experience that can't be expressed with a mobile upload. It is the most human part of us, the physical, the emotional, the sensual. And though some will advocate otherwise, I believe this human, actual experience and everything it encompasses, is the gateway to the spirit.

Yesterday after taxi-ing my parents to Logan I made an impromptu stop at Fenway and caught most of the first game of a double header. It was great fun; lights and food and smiles and cracks of the bat. There were group cheers and group moans, sweat and sun then raindrops and wetness. The day was a feast for the senses culminating in a torrential downpour which I thought ended the game after the seventh (though the stellar grounds crew kept it going).

At that point floods of people left the park and I joined them, braving the walk back to my car, a mile away.  It was an event that no mobile upload could capture.  The sheer weight and pace of the rain was too much for my cell phone to "weather" but what's more, the experience was so rich in physical experience that no one, two or even three dimensional account would suffice. Whether delightful or devastating being human includes feelings and ripple effects which do not live online.

For me yesterday it was a fun side of real life, caught in heavy, drenching, warm rain. With each step the flooded streets and sidewalks threatened to sweep me and my flip flops off my feet so I took them off and made my way barefoot through the city.  As the rain became harder and faster I realized any amount of closing my body to preserve some dryness was futile. So I relaxed and opened. There was no separating myself from everything around me. I was immersed. I was connected from the soles of my feet to the top of my head and everything in between.  My mind was completely engaged in the moment. Then all I could do was laugh: hundreds of Fenway fans all in the same boat (or wishing we had one) scurrying for cover or cars as the rain became more penetrating. It was life happening. It was running and walking and finally giving up all hope of having anything dry, it became surrender.  And with surrender: delight, excitement, exhileration.

This is yoga.  It's not about putting your leg behind your head, breathing in instead of out or wearing the right clothes. It does not require a mat or a class or trendy food. It is just that you be where you are, feel what you feel and notice. It is bringing together your mind and your body so that your spirit is free through the mind and body.  Yesterday it was, for me, this rain-soaked walk with Red Sox Nation and 20 minutes of truth. When you're running in the rain there's no hiding.  You wear your feelings on your sleeve, and since your clothes become a second layer of skin you can imagine how raw it all is.  Your mind becomes focussed on one step at a time toward reaching your destination. And even though we were each heading on our own paths, we were all together too.  Just like life.  So here, one beautiful blossom of the yoga bud of awareness: sharing experience and getting to relate to the person next to you.

These are the things we love most about a day at the game or a day in a storm: a chance to share with strangers and loved ones and find common ground, a chance to connect on our paths. Happy or sad, scary or exciting these are our chances to look and laugh, to smile or cry, to high five or throw our hands up. These are our chances to feel. These are our chances to engage our senses with experience to awaken our spirits instead of dull them down. These are our chances to be human, to be who we are and to lean on each other, together.  Beyond the mobile upload.


17 June 2011

A Man is Only as Good as His Wood

by Stephanie F. Earls


Every year about this time we get cord wood delivered. We stack it and let it dry over the summer so that by the coming fall and winter the wood will be ready to burn and keep us warm.  For years, as a kid longing to be free, I groaned when the "wood guy" would show up knowing my dad would be telling me to stack. But as I got older things changed and I realized a freedom in the stacking.

In a time of constant change and a world heavy on talk and theory there is something supremely satisfying about having a job to do that gets done.  And what's more, a job so connected to the earth, carrying her gifts for our eventual nourishment.  There is no question whether you are stacking or not. There is no question whether you are holding a log and placing it on the stack. There is no question whether the job is done or not.  It is very, excuse the pun, cut and dry. 

This morning as I stacked in the rain, bird song and water on leaves began to echo in a noise of nature that was so loud it was quiet. I could hear everything and nothing all at the same time, capped with melodic thuds as each log was put in its place. I felt a kinship with nature and our roots as people, imagining and enjoying how primal it feels to carry wood, stack it, set each piece in its place to find stability and organization.  It felt complete, putting effort toward something that will so concretely nurture us in the coming year. I felt connected, it all felt connected.  For all the years I cursed my dad for his "old" ways of heating the house, I have grown to feel gratitude and reverence knowing just like our ancient ancestors, we will have fire: heat and light when we need it, independent of certain modern conveniences. 

It got me thinking about people who dedicate their lives to their work, connected to the earth, and especially the "wood guy," Mike, whose motto I used for the name of this post. I appreciate his combined grounded sense of humor and light heartedness about a job that takes serious work (there's the lesson for us all!). The more ambiguous some relationships, the world or spiritual quests sometimes feel, the more deeply I appreciate that this guy (and anyone who does their work) just does his job. He is grounded, his work stands for itself.  Likewise, the more deeply I appreciate the chance to do jobs like this which are either done or they are not done.

And as I work, the more I realize how deeply our spirit and our growth is connected to what we do, our hands-on experience.  I revel in things that are done when they are done: stacking wood, laundry, cooking a meal, teaching a class. These are the things that seem mundane but are the gateway to the spirit. They are what nourish us. When everything feels like it sucks there is nothing like stacking cord wood in the rain to kick yourself in the ass.  And whether it is stacking wood or doing whatever job it is you do, it's really simple...when you get stuck, do your work...fold the clothes, teach your class, wash the floors, drive your truck, hug your kids (or your wife or friend), write your book, take your run. 

You're only as good as your wood....in other words, do your job.  (I hear you all having fun with this one...) 


There is something to be said for real work: hands-on, concrete, do it or don't do it, work; tied to the earth, connected, grounded, undeniable. This is what keeps us going. It is not theory, it's real. It's prayer in practice, it's meditation in motion. These are the places in our lives, these are the actions that keep us honest, clear our mind and remind us we are alive.  


So, how good is your wood? 

02 June 2011

Life: Nature's Way

by Stephanie F. Earls


I have a small wildflower/perennial garden in my backyard which year after year comes back heartier and more lush than I remember, despite my inconsistencies in caring for it. Yesterday I realized I'd never cleaned out the fall debris that settled under snow in the garden: old leaves, dead stems, grass. And it had started to become crowded with weeds and overzealous flowers that were hogging the space. It seemed out of control. So I took to the garden and gave it some attention.

The new foliage disguised the depth of dead crap at the base of each plant. The mess was compounded by weeds and clover that were overtaking much of the garden. As I started to weed and lift the "crap" out with my hands I was overwhelmed by how much of this damp, dead stuff was sitting there, and in awe that the flowers did not suffocate.  With each space cleared I appreciated that regardless of the mess, this garden burst through into life. Nothing short of a miracle.  And just nature's way: life.


Nature is resilient. Nothing will stop life from pushing through and making its way to do what it is supposed to do this time of year: bloom.  Growth did not stop because I forgot to make room in the fall. The plants did not cling to their old stems even though I left them there.  There was no debate on growing or becoming stagnant. The garden just kept living and even started to turn the "dead" stuff into new nutrients. 

With it cleaned out it stands a little brighter, seems lighter. It's easier to see and appreciate each flower for itself instead of the wild mess it was becoming.  I am not sure it matters to nature. Perhaps I helped it along, but nature found its own way long before I came on the scene. It's a good reminder.  Some say let nature take its course. Like everything else, maybe just find a balance, a little cooperation, a little co-creation between ourselves and nature.

We grow with the same miracle in us, with a drive toward life, toward rebirth, toward finding our way through crap even when it's literally blocking our way, toward turning death, staleness and overgrowth into a chance to nourish ourselves.

When things feel like they are out of control or covered in crap, think of a garden, of nature. Remember life will find its way.  And if we want to help it along, we can bring it our attention. We can clean out the old so we have room to breathe. We can weed out the things that are overwhelming us so we have some space to see clearly.  We can nourish ourselves. We can choose life. 

27 May 2011

Keeping Going: Solo Ventures and Shared Endeavors

by Stephanie F. Earls


What inspires us? What motivates us to do what we do, learn what we learn? What keeps us going? Is it our own internal drive? Divine intervention? Greed? Love? Fear? 

Call it what you will, at the root of any of these ideas there is a balance we seek between individual exploration and group creation.

I talked with a friend recently about these questions: Why teach?  Why continue to study? What motivates us to keep learning when we have the qualifications and established classes already? Why not just hunker down and practice in our own little world? 

It reminded me of a recent experience at Boston Common.  A few weeks ago I walked in the park. Despite the cold and drizzly day, spring had arrived and the park was magical: amazing trees with textured trunks and leaves, sparkling water, flowers in bloom, music in the air, ducks and swans milling about, and people. It was alive. I was alone. I paused on the bridge for a while to listen to a guitarist and soak in the sights and nourish myself. It was a sweet moment, appropriate for me alone that day and still, I left with the wish that I could have shared it.

When I returned home I shared what I could through words with my kids. Hearing about it lit them up. A couple of nights ago I returned with them, to the park, and we enjoyed the place and each other’s company. After a walk we played in the grass, each of us doing our own thing: cartwheels, sprints, jumping, relaxing.  I had the urge to do some yoga, but my body was tired and sore. I watched my kids flip and run, and the urge overwhelmed me and I decided to try a handstand or two.  As soon as I started to practice, our little group of four came together. My kids started to ask me questions about postures and wanted help getting into some.  They offered information they learned from friends on the playground about back bends. They were curious, excited and alive and it drew me out of my tired/sore self and livened me up.  It was a moment when though I thought I’d had enough yoga this week, the exchange gave it a whole new dimension. The park, yoga, became about more than just me, or any one of us and about all of us. What was inspired by my solo trip to the park became our trip to the park. My practice turned into our practice. The experience was elevated.

So while I ponder what motivates and inspires me, I realize there is a balance to find between solo ventures and shared endeavors. It is the reason the park was delightful alone and together. We get to know ourselves in different ways when we practice alone or get to share. They each inform our self study, our evolution: a self propelled (bigger than our self) desire paired with a quest to share, communicate, relate.  We are creative beings, a blend of autonomous individuals and communal creatures.

When I look at the teachers who inspire me it is clear that part of their self sustained spark brightens when they get to share their experience, knowledge, understanding, questions. And likewise they are only able to share because they take the time to nourish themselves in their own way.  There is learning that comes in solitude, a time to hear our own voice. There is learning that comes from the share, as each student or partner or teacher in our practice (life) holds a mirror up in a way that helps us see ourselves more clearly. 

So we find our balance, our solo venture and our shared endeavor.  We share because it completes our quest to create and inspire ourselves beyond a thought and into action. Once we've nourished ourselves, as teachers, friends, co-workers, parents, lovers, we have the chance to inspire and empower the people in our lives so that we can continue to inspire and empower ourselves. We do this best by sharing what we love, answering questions about it, showing it, learning more, going deeply into the well of the things that bring us to life and letting them saturate us so that we can nourish ourselves and the people around us.

The artist paints, the writer writes, the yogi practices, to answer the call of their soul first, to explore their solo venture. And they know each creation/art/calling, once shared, takes on a new dimension and ascends to a level of co-creation which far exceeds the potential that expression had on its own. It becomes a shared endeavor. This is the nature of expansion, of love, of true creation and I believe, one of the defining factors in what drives us as teachers, friends, parents, lovers, people.  

19 May 2011

Listening to Yourself

by Stephanie F. Earls


In teaching yoga I often remind the yogis who practice with me that while I may be guiding them through postures, the goal of yoga is to turn in and tune in, to yourself.  Despite what is going on around them, I remind them to honor the teacher within, to back off if something does not feel right or go with it if it does.  That's yoga, and really, it's life. But for as often as we hear the words, and for those of us who teach, as often as we say them, sometimes it's easier said than done.  It takes practice.

I attend a lot of yoga classes, events, workshops. I am practiced in following my heart and finding things that work for me and yet, this weekend, in a workshop that was a total mismatch for me I came face to face with how some situations can still challenge us to trust ourselves.  In the first five minutes of this class I had a hunch it was not a fit. With some reluctance but keeping an open mind, I participated for an hour and a half, trying to convince myself to stay put and see it through. Why?? My ego piped up with all sorts of stories and questions about what it meant if I cut out, but push came to shove and I decided to do something I never do: pack up my mat and leave at the half way mark. 

For 10 minutes on my way out I argued with myself about whether I was dogging out or avoiding myself. I wondered if it "looked bad". I started to beat myself up for not totally loving this class, with a world traveled, respected yogi. I wondered what was wrong with me.

And then it hit me, for all the guidance I offer about honoring yourself, here I was second guessing my inner teacher.  It was a reality check about how hard it can be, even in seemingly simple situations, for us to honor ourselves when we find ourselves needing to go the other way.  This gets compounded when we come up against an authority in our field, family, faith or community.  There can be many factors that weigh on our decision, many voices, many ideas, some from outside but most in our own head.

Our own minds can do funny things, trying to keep us in our box when what it really comes down to is as simple as: is this working for me or, is this not working for me?  We are our own authority. We make the decision. There is no answering, There is no judgement. There is no right and no wrong. There is only realizing what works for us and what doesn't.  It might be a yoga posture, it might be a job, it might be a relationship, it might be a medicine. But it all comes down to ourselves and how we feel, what we want. 

This experience reminded me of how I felt years ago when I bumped up against similar internal challenges, sick with Crohn's Colitis.  In the care of compassionate, smart doctors, there was a time when I was afraid to say "no" to certain prescriptions or tests, figuring the doctors knew better than me, how I would heal. But when my health was not improving, and things did not feel right, I had to get brave, hear my inner voice and be willing to speak up about what was going on for me and how I wanted to pursue my healing. It was a challenge. "They" were the authority. The funny thing was, once I got strong and spoke to my doctors about how I wanted to heal, they were receptive and encouraging!  And beyond my doctors, my whole life started to change to support my healing. It was just up to me to decide what I wanted and act upon it.

As I was reminded this weekend, sometimes easier said than done, but once done, always better. Once we decide to follow our inner voice and what works for us, we feel free.  We get to practice. We get to know ourselves better. We get the support we need. We heal. We laugh. We love. We realize our dreams.

18 May 2011

Read it: The War of Art

by Stephanie F. Earls

I recently reread a favorite book when I took it off my bookshelf to lend to a friend: Steven Pressfield's The War of Art.  A quick read, this book has powerful, energizing ideas to help you move through the thing that blocks you on your pursuits of creative endeavors of all kinds: resistance.

Whether your masterpiece is music, painting, a new job, changing your thoughts, healing yourself or the creation of your life the way you have dreamed (in any way), this book will strengthen your resolve and clarify your connection to your pursuit. It is grounded and inspired and will inspire you. Check it out.

07 May 2011

Healing

by Stephanie F. Earls

Dear Friends,

I want to share with you something that has been really awesome for me and which I hope will inspire you to keep on with your hopes, dreams, wishes...whatever their size.

Lately I have been doing a lot of yoga (as you know) whether it be teaching or studying or playing. I have been able to see my body through to new places, places that always seemed like somewhere "those" people could go, but probably not me.

For 10 years I struggled to enjoy life,  weak and sick with Crohn's Colitis. Three years ago, having diarrhea 25 times a day (an underestimate if anything), bleeding from my intestines and finding little relief from medicine, I decided to go "balls to the wall" to heal myself.  I know that expression is not so eloquent (can women even use that?) but it's the truth. My back was against the wall,  I was tired of managing sickness and committed to heal.

About that time when I changed my mind, my mom gave me a cd set to listen to by Louise Hay.  Hay was talking about healing your life and though it struck me a bit corny, I had put my vision so steadfast on healing that anything that seemed remotely relevant got my attention. I decided that each day while I worked out on my dad's elliptical machine I would listen to the cds and try anything she suggested (because she had healed her life).

She had one exercise that struck me. She said if I really wanted to heal I had to be willing to change because my current patterns were not keeping me well. The exercise, which I still use from time to time, was to put your hand on your throat (a creative and expressive energy center), look in the mirror, into your own eyes and repeat three times, "I am willing to change."  I took her seriously and did the exercise, but wondered, what possibly could change in my life?  She warned...be ready, things will change.  I could not imagine.

Within six months my then 11 1/2 year marriage began to dissolve.  Within a year I was gathering lots of new information, learning how to take care of myself and my kids in a new way and how to share my skills.  I trained as a birth doula and started my certification to teach yoga.  Within a year and a half my health started to change and I began to carve a niche for myself professionally. Within two years I was divorced, teaching more and within two and a half years I settled into teaching,  advanced my healing work and launched my website.

Now, three years later, sparked at a recent yoga workshop (part of my 500hr yoga teacher training) I got the chance to see how far I've come.  At this workshop I saw my body through to some amazing places, postures I once only dreamed of attempting I was now expressing.  It was empowering, exciting, humbling. But most of all it was a gift, and not because of any fancy position I could put myself into, but because for 8 hours I could participate in a workshop. I could listen, observe, attempt, experience, fall, laugh, cry, share, attempt again, listen more, rest, absorb....have lunch and come back for more. And not once did I get up to have diarrhea or feel a stomach cramp or bleed, or experience any anxiety connected to living with chronic dis-ease. It stopped me in my tracks.  I started to see all the places I have been able to grow (teaching, road trips, lunch with friends, time at the beach, airplane rides, walking my dog....) without a care about dis-ease.

I am healthy, strong, vibrant. My stomach is at ease, no cramps, no panic, no hurried trips to the bathroom, no bleeding intestines.

My body has become my friend.  And, as much as I use my body and find new ways to express my spirit, my body has in a way become irrelevant. When I was sick, my whole life revolved around my bowels. Even if I put on a good face, every thought, every move, every trip, every bite, every bit of rest revolved around what my bowels were doing. Three years later they are not a thought. And the more strong and capable my body has become, the less I actually think about it, the less I plan around it,....the more I enjoy it.

This has been a gift for me which I am eternally grateful for and thank the stars, god and the people who have seen me through to this place.

But for all the support around me, it is a gift that I had to find in myself, being willing and committed and then, practicing, day in, day out. And I am not talking about yoga asana. I am talking about believing I could heal, being willing to change, believing I could live a better life, and keeping my thoughts committed to that venture.

Were there days in the last three years that I was not sure? Of course. But I kept my thoughts on my goal. And I remembered, I could at least change my thoughts in relation to my disease and at most, accept the encouragement of those who had faith in me when I felt unsure.

If you are trying to change something in your life or create a wish come true, whether it be your health or your state of mind or a situation, I hope you can read this and feel some strength, some resolve and some faith in yourself. You can do it. Just decide.  Once you decide everything you need around you to support your decision will appear, like magic. Some things may be in disguise but they will be there to strengthen you and show you your path. I know this. If you are doubtful, use my words, use the energy I write this with, to carry you through your doubt. I promise. You can heal, you can have what you want in life, you can create, you can enjoy.

Now don't take my word for it. Try it.

Love, Steph

20 April 2011

Transitions: Being There While You Get There

by Stephanie F. Earls

At the start of a recent vacation I found myself split. My body was amidst warm air, looking at palm trees, but my mind was in the snow tending to unfinished conversations and tasks that I'd left behind in the body.  Has this ever happened to you?

For two days I wandered around my vacation a little distracted until I started to get frustrated as I became aware that I was not in the present moment. I started to look at the split and I realized that I'd glossed over the transition. Overwhelmed with packing and reluctant to fly I wanted to just "get there" and relax. At the same time I had things undone at home and was trying to work them out in my head.  My body flew to vacation but my mind stayed home.  I went through the motions. 

Much of life is transition, we change from one place to another, one role to another, one state of mind to another even one breath to another. And how often do we relish the space of change as much as the place we have just left or the place we are about to arrive? 

Whether it's work to home, home to vacation, sad to happy or inhale to exhale, if we are looking forward our minds can get fixated on "getting there". If we are reluctant our minds might cling to the place we were, making it hard to let go.

There are basic transitions like going from here to there.  There are emotional or spiritual transitions that affect us more deeply. It might be when a loved one dies or a relationship changes or a job is lost or our body changes. Something happens to shake us from one place and usher us into someplace new. Our feelings come to us face to face whether we are reluctant or willing, asking for our attention.

It can be uncomfortable to sit with transitions and the feelings (positive and negative) that come with them: uncertainty, self doubt, wonder, hope, anticipation. Just like sitting on a plane or in an airport terminal (actually not terminal at all), we look for distractions. We just want to "get there". If we are sad or angry and want to be happy, we want to get over it and "get there".  If we are sick we just want to "get there" and be healthy. But in this space between is our work.

Having two days of not really "being there" when I "got there" on vacation was a good reminder that a little awareness and engagement during transitional times actually helps us arrive authentically, aligned: mind, body and spirit. As we navigate our life transitions consider that being there while we are getting there can be the magic that gets us here at all: completely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

60 Second Practice:  A lesson in graceful transitions from your breath:

The most simple and beautiful transition of all is a magical place between the in breath and the out breath.  When we bring our consciousness to that space the magic can be realized. Use your breath here and practice being aware of transitions. Take the next 60 seconds just noticing the space (even if it is a mili-second) where your breath in completes and becomes your breath out. Then again notice where your breath out completes and becomes your breath in. No need to change anything and no judgement. For 60 seconds, right here at your desk or kitchen table or in your car (as long as you're parked!) just notice the transition between the breath and how perfectly and naturally your body releases the old and floats to the new.  

18 April 2011

Where There Is Love...

one of my favorites....

"Where there is love, there is a beauty that cannot be described, a strength that cannot be broken, a joy that cannot be surpassed, for where there is love, there is god."

12 April 2011

Looking at the Sun

by Stephanie F. Earls

I recently had a birthday. On that day I decided to look directly at the life giving, cleansing, guiding light of ours: the sun.  Might not sound like much to you but for me it was symbolic, one of those things I was always told not to do, and I never really knew why and not sure I believed the scary stories I was told about what would happen.  I wondered if I did not look at the sun for my own good or someone else's.

Well that day while sailing in the Caribbean, thinking I could live my whole life and never really know what it looks like to look at the sun - maybe the feeling of another year gone by, maybe the thrill of being in such vibrant light, I thought, what do I have to lose? (Ok, I hear you all, I could lose my eyesight....I know...my dad made sure to detail the process of burning a hole in the retina when he heard I did this.) Anyway,  I took matters into my own hands, uh, eyes and looked. Yes, right at the sun. Multiple times.

And you know what? I can still see.  (thank god)

Setting aside the momentary rebellion, the cool thing is, as volatile as our minds can be, debating on whether or not to do things, rethinking what we just did, or contemplating what we have been told by others, the body is a perfect back up. The body is always talking to us, giving us feedback about how things around us feel, whether they are healthy for us or not.  Our bodies protect us. It takes a bit of practice and tuning in for more subtle situations, but for many things the message is clear, just like a gut feeling.

In the case of looking at the sun, the eyes start to water and reflexes shut the lids. As strong as the urge to look comes the urge to look away. And I admit, I pushed it a little, my mind challenging my body and the light, desiring to SEE it as much as I feel it. But my body won out. The eyes, the body protects itself.

So, bring the  mind and body together. Listen to your body.  If you feel tired, take it easy. If your belly fills up, stop eating. If your eyes hurt looking at the sun, close them.  If you push it to an extreme your body will give you extreme signals. Trust yourself. It's just like it feels.

31 March 2011

Engage

by Stephanie F. Earls

One of the things I do to stay well is talk therapy. Arriving for an appointment is as therapeutic as the talk itself.

A visit begins when you pull alongside the oversized Victorian house on a cramped street. You have to take big steps up onto the porch and read the sign to remind yourself to use the door on the left.  You pull open the screen door and next to a plastic button there is a sign that says "ring bell and then enter".   Once you ring the bell your hand falls to the knob, so humungous it expands your palm and requires a long, slow turn.  As the latch releases, the weight and height of the oversized door become more apparent. It opens slow and smooth with a long creek and once inside, the door and another sign require you to turn the knob and push the door shut. Now between two doors, one just shut, the next not yet open you must again turn a big knob and enter the house through this inner door with the same deliberate movements, intentional knob turning and door shutting. There is a feeling that you are entering another world altogether sometimes. The house, it's space, is of another time; dark wood, old windows, high ceilings and these doors the size of giants.

I have been going there for two years and am still in awe at how the mere act of entering this house demands you be in the present moment. It requires you engage in the here and now, just to get IN, fittingly so since it's a path to healing,  and how can we heal or grow if we can not be here now. This house has a magic about it that gently commands your body to be here so much that your mind has no choice but to join. 

This same healing aspect, being in your present moment, is what I love about yoga, union: bringing together mind, body and spirit. It is what helps us to heal, engaging ourselves on the physical level and becoming aware of what our bodies are doing; how and why. Becoming conscious of ourselves is the path to healing. Whether on our mat or at our job, with friends or cleaning the house, we have the choice to go through the motions or truly engage.  There may be days when being present is a challenge and showing up is the best we can do. Do it. There may be days when being present is so natural that we break through our blocks. Celebrate it. There may be days when all we have are more questions and confusion. Accept it. 

There's no "winning" yoga, same goes for life (there might be a famous guy out there who disagrees ;) and our job is just to show up, turn the knob and open the door. Maybe we feel relief, maybe we don't,  but if we are here and pay attention then at least we know how we feel and can be our own best friend.  We will have been present, the place where the eternal, the infinite, dwells. It is the place where the doors, no matter how big, begin to open with our deliberate intention, showing us our path. 


01 March 2011

Connect

by Stephanie F. Earls

A few days ago I took my kids to the bookstore. My oldest son brought along a personal computer game because he wanted to see if he could connect via wifi to other people playing the game he was playing. As we walked around the store  he watched the little machine, taking note of how many bars he had...2, now 3, now 2, now 1.  We made our way into the back of the store and while I was looking at something I heard his little voice saying, "connect, connect, connect", almost begging for his game to find other players.

It made me laugh a little because I have had moments like that where my technology lapses...cable modem freezes up or my cell phone does not get service and I am trying to connect.

It can be frustrating, we want to reach out and find eachother....blogs, facebook, telephone, emails. But, if electricity goes out or nothing's coming through, we feel alone. We sit there saying, "connect, connect, connect".

At our core, as much as we value our individuality, we also crave the connection to others, to community and most of all, to ourselves. We long for feeling connected, in touch, alive.

So how do we do it? You can be in a room of 100 people and feel totally alone.  You can be sitting next to your best friend and feel alone. You can have your internet connection working perfectly: twitter, facebook, email functioning but no one to talk to. Isolated. So what is it we are truly after? Is it a working wifi connection or a working connection to ourselves?

Maybe in the moments when technology bogs up or phones don't ring is our chance, a little space to listen to ourselves...our heart, our soul, our bodies. Yoga does this for me, for you it could be taking a nap or running a few miles or creating art.  It is the time we turn inside and just listen. Maybe what we hear sounds sweet, maybe bitter. It does not really matter. What matters is the listening.  In listening we connect.  We connect to ourselves, our own inner voice, guidance, wisdom. We connect to our knowingness.  It's not about whether it's good or bad, light or dark, happy or sad...it's about that we pay attention and answer our spirit's call to connect.  Just like us, our spirit is hanging out saying "connect, connect, connect" and all we need to do is put up a little signal saying, "I'm here".  Then as we listen, we learn, we know better. When we know better we offer a more pure version of ourselves in everything we do. It's not whether we behave or get in trouble. It's not whether we feel tired or invigorated. It's not whether we are happy or totally pissed.  It's about just taking the time to listen and be here, to be our own best friend, to be our connection. And through that connection comes the life, the inspiration and the strength to guide us to and through every other connection we make.

Listen to your spirit. Grant it's wish. Connect, connect, connect.

20 February 2011

The Ache

by Stephanie F. Earls

Do you have it? Not just a sore foot or tired back, I am talking the ache. Deep, tender, vulnerable, confusing ache. The sort of ache that makes you feel like nothing matters. It might have a physical manifestation or maybe something less tangible like a heavy fog settled around your heart.  It's not always there but now and then it'll creep up and cause you to wonder why or what or who. You look around at your life and see the sum total of your parts does not seem to justify the ache, which makes it so much harder to accept. Everything should be good. Things should make sense. You should be happy. You should not have the ache.

These days despite all the beauty, gratitude and devotion in our lives, many of us still experience the ache.  It's not that we are not inspired, it's not that we are bitter. It's not that we are asleep at the wheel.  On the contrary, the ache has surfaced precisely because we decided to wake up. We became aware. We have awakened something in ourselves that says, "hey, I'm here! And, living half a life is not the way I want to live anymore." Do we mourn our losses? Sure. Do we long to feel whole? Of course. But just because we notice the ache does not mean we are stuck on our loss or less than whole already. It simply means we have begun waking up to our full expression.

As soon as you wake up from your sleepy self you notice the part of you that has been most deeply at rest. It might feel a little tired, it might ache.

Imagine it this way: after a year as a couch potato, you run a mile.  The next day, how do you feel? You probably ache. Maybe tender quads and calves, a vulnerable back or all over deep tired.  It's confusing because you did something to help yourself and you feel ache. But this ache is not debilitating, it is new awareness of those parts of you that were less active until now.  The ache might tempt you to say "running sucks" but now those parts and you have new blood, new energy, new life force flowing through them like never before. They are alive and you know it.  You are aware.

So, what do those parts need? The hard*ss will tell you to stop your whining and get out there and run again, to keep limber and active. The softy will suggest a little tlc:  a rub or warm bath. Both say patience and a little time.

So while you are walking around in these fast moving days of change and growth, when you wake up, keep up.  If you feel the ache ask yourself if it throbs because you are not working it or because you are.  And you know the answer. Treat it like the part of you that was sleeping for a while and got a little sore because you woke it up.  Follow the hard*ss advice: stop your whining and continue exercising your wake up. Follow the softy's words and give yourself a little tlc. Maybe a combination of both.  Try some patience and time. Breathe here. Remind yourself you are growing. You woke up! You've brought in new energy, new life force.

You don't have to change anything and you don't have to judge the ache. Just notice it. Stay aware and you will stay open. Just like running again the next day, awareness will keep the spirit limber in your body. With a little awareness you will find patience. With a little time you will transform. And soon you will realize the ache was just a little growing pain.

01 February 2011

Identity

by Stephanie F. Earls

Who are you? What defines you? Do you know? Does it come from the inside or the outside? Every now and then, even if you contemplate this notion from time to time there are moments that happen which get you to take a look at yourself.

A small moment like that happened for me today when I went to the registry of motor vehicles to change my name on my license. With forms filled out, new picture taken and fees paid, the clerk handed me a paper that would be sufficient to use to drive until my "new" license arrives in the mail. My "old" license disappeared into the abyss.

I turned to leave and felt like something was missing! Naked. No "identification". Even the paper that will suffice for driving clearly states that it "may not be used as official identification". I had momentary  panic and realized I was a little attached to my "identity" in my driver's license. It felt strange and uncertain to leave my "identity" behind, separate from myself as I walked away.

I took a quick inventory of myself, questioning: is that plastic card really me? Does it define me? Does the name and how it appears really identify me? Do I need "official identification" to feel who I am?

In yoga philosophy one of the yamas or restraints is the principle of aparigraha: non-possessiveness/non-attachment.  It is the practice of remaining open hearted and open handed through life, letting the ever changing variables of life come and go - flow - whether they be plastic cards with your name on them or a car, a job or a loved one. It's a tough principle because though we try to remain open we still naturally attach to the things in life that we care about. Today for me it was a plastic card linked to my name. In and of itself, my heart was not in it but still there was a tiny pang in my heart as I started to walk away without it. What about for the things that we become more invested in? A job we love, a relationship we value, our home, a dream of something we'd put our heart into. It can be a challenge.

But here in rests the chance to get to know ourselves better, to connect to what is us, from the inside. Here is the chance to connect to the very heart of who we are.

It is part of our practice in yoga, in life, in anything we love, to connect to the part of us that does not change, which can not be taken away or left behind at a registry. Coming to know the steady and gentle constant inside ourselves, which rests unaffected by the whims of what is outside, is part of the path toward peace in our lives.

The external changes, it's the nature of things.  Our being is more than a thing.  Anytime we quiet and connect to our center (even just setting the intention to find it)  we are nourished by our eternal.  We find a strength which can endure all questions of identity. We come to the heart of who we are even while the external swirls around us. We practice remaining open hearted and open handed so that life can flow through us, letting our identity emanate from the inside out.

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60 second practice
Try it: Come to your center. Practice. Use the simplest tool, your breath.   Watch your breath and the way it moves in and out of your body. Take 60 seconds, one hand on your heart and one hand on your belly. Close your eyes and feel the in breath and the out breath. I've said it before, and it's worth repeating... simply notice your breath, no need to change anything, no right or wrong. Just notice your breath. You will be 60 seconds more aware of your source, your light and your identity, which can never be left behind and burns brighter than the sun. Feel your warmth, feel your strength,  feel your openness and with open hands and open heart, know you.

25 January 2011

(To the Heart of) Balancing Thoughts Part 2

by Stephanie F. Earls

Well, if you read the last post and have tried it at all, you've gotten some good information for yourself about how you feel in relation to the thoughts you choose. And depending on how in flux your thoughts have been, there is the possibility you could feel a little like a see-saw, bouncing back and forth between positive and negative thoughts, which brings me to this post.

A few nights ago as I was putting my four year old to bed I found myself saying the exact words to him that my dad used to say to me at bedtime when I was a kid: "turn off your brain".  As a kid I did not have any idea how I could do that or even that it was an option, there was just thought and it was going all on it's own. And this very night my son looked at me after I said those words and asked, much to my surprise: "mom, how do I turn off my brain?" After I laughed at the sheer fact that 30 years later my son is asking the very question that plagued me, I found the words coming out of my mouth that I use in yoga everyday: "Just notice your breath. Follow your breath in and feel your belly rise then follow your breath out and feel your belly fall."  In that moment my words and description suited a four year old a bit more than a room full of adults practicing yoga, but the message is the same: breathe here.

If the mind is busy, whether we "judge" it as positive or negative, we can bypass the endless cycle of thoughts by bringing our attention to the breath, especially in two places in our body at the same time. So, maybe notice the feeling of air at the nose as well as the rise and fall of the belly.  Bring your hand to the belly for extra sensory input. Or bring one hand to the heart and the other to the belly and notice the expansion and contraction of your rib cage and the rise and fall of the belly. Engaging the senses this way helps short circuit the mind's hooking you into your thoughts and letting them run away with you...all of you: your body, breath, being, mind, health...your well being.  Use yourself to your advantage, take the reigns and hold steady, using your body as a tool.  Find balance regardless of thought.

Now I know it all sounds well and good on paper or hunky dory if you can get to a yoga class or sit quietly to meditate (which help you integrate your practice) but what we all ask is: is this for real? Can this be used in day to day life when your kids are screaming or the work you just finished got torn to shreds or your sick parents need constant care or someone you love just died or you are just bummed out about life? Well, if I had all the answers I might not be writing any of this but what I do have is my experience. I have the chance to learn, I have real life stuff (again, alternate s word) happen all the time, and most of all, I have PRACTICE.   And I can say though it's not easy, it does work. Sometimes we start to practice and fight with ourselves about it but that is just part of the balance...getting through the fight to the place where we CHOOSE breath, which is choosing space.  And once you choose breath you open up places to make other choices.

In my last entry I was advocating, if you are going to be in your mind,  choosing "positive" thoughts, which is still a worthwhile tool and one which as humans we have available until we die. However, there will be days when even what we deem "positive" can not lift us out of the place we feel stuck in.   It comes down to realizing that with thoughts we are driving the bus and have a choice, and taking the chance to link our thoughts to action. The breath is our most simple, free and powerful tool to help us "turn off our brains" at the appropriate time.

The breath is our source, it is our life and it will show us the way to peace when we choose it, and not just peace of mind but peace of being. What I love most about breath is it is centered in our body right at the heart,  the true center of peace in our being.  As we developed in our mothers' wombs, before there was a brain, before there was breath, there was heart. It is the place where heaven and earth meet. Our breath serves to direct us back to our center, to our heart, to balance.

Use your breath, come back to your source. Get out of your head and into your body. If you love being physical, run, play sports, do yoga, dance...notice your breath. If you are not so physical, rub your hands together, bring them together in prayer or rest them on your heart and belly.  Either way bring it to the basics of noticing your inhale and your exhale. Let yourself get to the "heart" of balancing your thoughts, taking the mind down to the body and following, observing, feeling. No need to change anything. No judgement about whether the breath is right or wrong. It's just breath. It is. And then like magic you begin to transcend the positive and negative thoughts and find a balance that resides in your whole being. You come to the space where the divine in you shines from your center, balanced. All it takes is for you to breathe here.

14 January 2011

Balancing Thoughts

by Stephanie F. Earls

Life is about balance. In yoga we balance ourselves physically by practicing postures on both sides of our body. In many postures we find balance by locating our center. Sometimes we fall.  But it's not that we failed, we just got some information about where exactly our center, our balance, resides. Our body tells us "hey, you went to far there" or "oh, that feels perfect, hold this now".

And what about balancing the mind?

When things are tough do we resign ourselves to sad thinking? Do we "fall" into a black hole, feeling despair and making our lives an all or nothing based on a dark perspecitve?  Or do we realize we are just getting information?

We've all been in the "fall"...going through stuff (I'd put another "s" word here but I promised my kids I'd stop using it...) and we start to spiral down thinking about all the things that have gone wrong and how there must be some big dark cloud around us attracting more of the same.  It can get compounded by what we hear and see around us. This week I learned of a friend's son who lost half his body in Afghanistan and then the news of this crazy guy in Arizona. We all feel the collective weight of things out of our control.

This stuff, whether personal or global, gets in our face and sucks our attention away from the miracles and quiet sweetness that happen everyday. It's a trick of the ego, personal or collective, trying to get our attention and hold us back. We have to stay balanced.

Let's keep ourselves pliable and growing. If we fall a little into a dark spiral, we have to admit we're in it and it does not feel good. There is no benefit in denying that it broke our hearts to hear troubling news. But then remember that how we feel will change like all things do. And it does not own us.

Sometimes we easily jump into the "everything sucks" place but, how often, when things feel happy, calm (sometimes mistaken for mundane), joyful, or abundant  do we do that exact same thing and jump into the "EVERYTHING IS FREAKIN' AWESOME" place?  How often do we create an all or nothing out of a good day? If we are going to go to extremes with our thinking, why not do it on the happy end?

How often do we spend time watching people on tv talk about all the joy and kindness in the world? How much stop and listen do we do when things are good?  I have a hunch we all listen and rejoice and celebrate the small triumphs in each other's lives quite a bit. It might not get news attention, but it gets our attention.  We move through our days, honoring stories of the amazing midwife who helped a friend birth their baby... Or the doctor who stood by a patient through way more in life than one could ask... Or the grandparent who gave up a day at work to make cookies with their grandchild... Or the father whose brain tumor healed by his own strength and the power of prayer... Or the teacher who makes each student feel like part of her family. These are everyday miracles that go un-talked about in mass media but they are our everyday and they far outweigh the craziness in the world.  These examples are what is.

Even if just in our own hearts and minds, let's make mountains out of these everyday beauties so that when crazy pops up we do not disintegrate our well being and our peace of mind.

Let's balance.

Try this if you notice yourself going to the "everything sucks" mode when you have a bad day... the next time something feels sweet, go to the "everything is freakin' awesome" mode.  If you need to balance things off, do it big: OH MY GOD, THIS IS WONDERFUL, EVERYTHING IS HAPPY. HOW PERFECT LIFE IS.  Do it as soon as, and any time something makes your heart leap or the corners on your mouth turn up, or even if you just have a moment of peace of mind...when you have something, anything happen that makes you feel good.

Let's see what happens. It's not about denying when things feel hard. We honor those falls because they show us the way to our joy. They give us information. They help us balance. We just do not let them own us. This is about acknowledging with the same enthusiasm and conviction when things feel good so that just like the falls, we get information and find our balance.