Flailing or Perspective?

A couple of weeks ago, in one of my advanced yoga classes, we were practicing headstands. I've written before, I think, on headstand prep poses. Essentially, you begin in downward-facing dog pose and lower your forearms to the floor, clasping your hands together. Thus, your feet are about a few feet from your forearms, and your head is moving forward a bit. Your hands being clasped creates a sort of triangle. You place the crown of your head in that triangle before slowing walking your feet toward your arms. As your feet get closer, you begin to walk on your toes. Finally, you start bringing your knees in toward your body. This had been as far as I'd gotten so far.

My instructor had said, time and time again, you'll know when you're ready. Your feet will just come of the ground, lifting from your core.

And they did.

I was amazed. I quietly said, "Lea Ann," calling my instructor over to me. She exclaimed, "That's it!" and came over to my mat. She spotted my back, giving me the slightest support. (She prefers we not practice headstand prep against the wall---relying too much, then, on the wall and not our core for support.)

And then my feet were back down. But I was so excited!

I kept trying. By then, my instructor had moved to spot someone else, and my feet popped back up off the floor. I did as I should have, and I pulled them in toward my body. Then I felt my body lean the wrong direction.

And I was afraid.

In hindsight (ah, hindsight), I should have tucked my chin and rolled forward---something I'd done plenty of as a child in gymnastics. But instead, I, well, I freaked out. :-) (I have qiute a history with falling, after all!)

I suppose I was trying to fling my body back the direction it had come from. In doing so, I let out a loud yelp and, from my fellow yogis' reports, ran with my feet in mid air, flailing my feet around. Finally, I leaned toward the left, and actually landed on my feet.

My instructor at first (and she even used this as a story in our next class---with my permission) thought that I had tried too soon to straighten my legs. No, I was plenty happy to be in the state where I was, with my feet off the ground and my knees pulled in. I was simply falling.

But that's okay. I know now the support to ask for (not support on my back, but just someone to be there in case I do fall forward). I also now have a plan of what to do if again I have my feet up and begin to fall forward (tuck and roll!).

And isn't that the thing with learning new things, pushing ourselves, deepening our confidence in ourselves and our bodies--having a plan for when those challenges bring surprises? I think so. I'm once again finding myself happily content with how much I learn about life and my approach to it through my yoga practice. At first I was flailing, but that gave me perspective. And I really could have written that about my headstand or things deeper and more personal to me.

And one day, I also have confidence that I'll find the strength I need in that final prepatory pose, and my feet will glide straight up into the air.

Gravity and That Different Perspective

Last night in yoga we did a number of inversions/partial inversions. I was near some other intermediate/advanced yogis as we did the prep pose for shoulder stand, and the four of us went ahead and took a shoulder stand. I actually got lifted up and out of it too, for the first time. But let me explain how that happened (as I see it in hindsight).

In the past, in those inversions, I've always felt a little odd. And self-conscious. I figure we're all just pretty used to our shapes and bodies. Some of us, admittedly, me too, carry some extra poundage around. But we get used to how we carry it and, well, where it falls.

Then put yourself in an inverted position. Darned if those extra pounds don't shift and gather quite awkwardly. And they feel oh-so-visible.

But last night, the two yogis to my right giggled, and one said "I hate how my fat falls together when I'm like this." And they giggled again, pointing out the part of their physical form, that layer of, well, fat, that fell toward the floor in an abnormal position when they were inverted. (This is most true with a shoulder stand; as you might notice from the pic, you're staring right at your tummy in this pose.) I laughed out loud and thanked them for saying that. Seriously, I had thought I was the only one who felt like that! Ah, yes, and that one of them is thin and young and cute---helps all the more.

And so, what I take from that is that the issues we each have with our bodies, for the most part, we're not alone. We're all a little self-conscious about things, but in reality, so is everyone else. And thus, I was encouraged to let go of those hang-ups and let go. After all, if the young, thin, cute girl feels the same way, heck, we're all in that boat.

And who knows. Maybe that's why I was able to lift up into my shoulder stand and really experience it. Feeling my shoulders release, my legs stretch high up in the air, my hips steady and firmly supported in my hands. For the first time, I let go of other issues and just really enjoyed the pose---and seeing things from a new perspective. Whaddaya know. That's just what inversions are supposed to do for us.

Being Aware

Since the weekend, my leg is much better. I also talked over the injury with my yoga instructor last night, and she probably pinpointed exactly what happened. It has something to do with, oh, gosh, being an "over-achiever." Who, me?

Last Thursday, we did a lot of poses during which she would remind us to externally rotate the leg. And I probably did that as if I was being paid for every bit I rotated. Instead, it's important just to be aware of where you are and what you're doing, but not go beyond your limits.

Isn't that the same in everything?

If you scrub the bathtub, for example, do you (usually---we're not talking what it was like to clean my tub here when I first moved into this house) . . . anyway, do you really need to scrub hard, really using, or even taxing, the muscles in your shoulder and arm? No, probably not when you clean the tub each week or so. But some of us do.

When you're chopping veggies, if someone walked in, would they wonder what the veggies had done to make you so upset with them? You don't need a lot of force to chop a carrot. Why not just do what it takes, being aware of how much is needed to chop that carrot, and not slamming through it any more forcefully than needed?

When you brush your teeth, are you brushing---or scrubbing with force? (my own clue: the difference in my gumline on the left side of my mouth (I'm right-handed) than on the right, showing my tendency to mindlessly scrub.)

And so in yoga and in other areas of my life, I'm going to try to work on paying attention to where I am and what I'm doing in the moment. Am I going too far, or am I doing things with purpose? Am I aware of all of the sensations my movements and actions are resulting in? Am I fully tuned into the things I'm doing and the related outcomes? Or am I doing things, with too much "umph" in a mindless manner, without being truly plugged in to what's going on. I need to plug in, to be aware. I'll be working on that.

My Inversion

Finally, I did it! I did an inversion, getting my feet all the way up in the air.

Well, to be fair, I had some help . . . .

This one was a forearm stand. One day, it will look like this pose seen on the left. Essentially, you're on your forearms, palms down, head down but not touching. (This was the hardest part for me; my upper arms are quite short, I learned.) The idea is to be able to kick up and balance in the middle of the room.

We, though, started this at the wall. And I had to have a strap around my upper arms to keep them where they needed to be (my instructor is fabulous with props), and two fellow yogis caught my feet after I kicked up to give me a little helping hand up.

But I did it.

I balanced, I used a lot of shoulder strength, and I held my feet up overhead---in my inversion.

Why care about inversions? It gives you a whole new perspective, literally, and you can transfer that to your figurative view. Inversions also help you get "unstuck" from ruts or habits--getting you to that new, different place--that place we can transrom our hearts to be open, giving, yielding.

No, I didn't balance away from the wall, but we do, after all, call it a yoga practice.

Bakasana

With my teacher's encouragement, I've started attending the Thursday night yoga class--the intermediate/advanced class--in addition to my weekly Tuesday night beginner class. True, I'm only on the intermediate side, and far from advanced, but the Thursday night class is bringing me fabulous new challenges.

It's also 90-minute class. With the extended time (Tuesday night is but one hour), we are able to really work on advanced poses. And for these last three weeks, we've been working on bakasana--an arm balance. It looks like this:

(and that's just the beginning of that pose--there's lots of advancements from there--such as straightening your arms.)

For me, I can get into the beginning of the pose, but it's as if my toes are glued to the mat. I just can't get my feet in the air. It's part fear; I am afraid of falling forward. (duh!) It's part strength; I've never had the greatest upper body strength. It's part flexibility; although I'm crazy-flexible in my hamstrings, I'm less so in my back. And, it might not be, but I have the current excuse that it's part my pants slipping off my shirt-sleeves; when it's warmer, and I'm not wearing long sleeves, that excuse will fly out the window. Of course, by then, I may have worked through those other things.

Still, it's been wonderful to challenge myself with this. My teacher knows I'm trying, and she's seen small steps forward. She's also amazing at showing us modifications to approach poses using props. So I'll keep trying--trying to open my heart just enough to lean forward, trying to have the faith in my own ability, and trying to find the yoga---the joining of my body, breath, mind, and spirit.

Inside Out and On Over to the Middle East

Whew! So indeed, yes, I do love my new gym. And with things planned in the afternoons, I've even started attending the 6am spinning class twice a week! what??

Back up---First of all, yes, I did the spinning orientation, and I knew: this was a workout I needed! It was the most challenging thing I've tried in a long time, and I also knew it'd be great to build up some leg strength. And so I started attending classes.

Now, being new, it kicked my hiney. The first class, I thought my heart was going to burst from my chest after eight minutes. But I remembered the advice I got in orientation about taking it at my pace, and I remembered how much I loved the challenge of interval training on the treadmill and really pushing myself on inclines with intervals, and I stuck through the class. Granted, I did only twenty-second spurts of "jogs" and "climbs" and "jumps," while the rest of the class could do those things for an entire three, four, even five minutes. But I was on my way.

And today, I finally made it through an entire class in which I did everything everyone else did! WooHoo!! :-) It is all a matter of trying a little at a time, pushing yourself just a little more each time, and keeping moving forward.

I've also found a great rowing class on Sunday mornings. Granted, I miss part of George (heavens no---not "W." George Stephanloaoiaoeriaoefalekjrlke. okay---you try to spell his name. ;-) ) But the guy who regularly teaches the Sunday morning rowing class actually uses the beat of the music. I love that in a class. My Thursday 6am spinning instructor does the same. Sadly, though, most of the other instructors just use the tempo of a song as a general guideline. But seriously, as a former drum major, it's all about staying on beat!

But Monday nights I get to find the beat of the music---just very different music. See, I'm finally taking a dance class I've wanted to take for so long---Middle Eastern Dance! Okay, okay, yes, most people call it Belly Dancing. :-) It's a blast! And yes, all those hip movements are horrendous on my back. Indeed---my discs that are sticking out of the spinal column do not like the hip shimmies. But so far the pain isn't debilitating, so I'll stick it out for now. I also plan to check into some spinal decompression. For now, I'm just gathering information.

Otherwise, I still love my yoga instructor and that Tuesday night class. She even has researched my back and hip issues to help me learn when I need to use props and make modifications, Of course, pain usually tells me that. :-) I've learned I cannot do the preparatory pose for side plank on one side, but fortunately, I already know how to do side plank in the full pose, so I can skip preparatory and move on into plank. And with forward bends, I know now (thanks to my instructor) to not dive too quickly down, but with my insane stretch in my hamstrings, I can still get all the way into the pose. Will I achieve a head- or handstand? We'll see. We keep working on preparatory poses in my Tuesday night class. And both of those are things I'd like to be able to do one day. But for now, I'm loving what I get from the strengthening and stretching and focus of each pose and each class.

Movies, Cheeks - - - and Pies?

I mentioned several movies I'd like to see, and I had hoped to see one this weekend, but alas, that didn't happen. Sometime around midnight Saturday night, the soft tissue between my jawbone and both (surprisingly this time; it's usually only on one side of the body) cheekbones began to grown---swelling for no apparent reason. The discomfort and some pain associated kept me up until after 3, sending me also reaching for various antihistamines I had in the house. I finally got to sleep, but I wasn't "right" for the next thirty-six hours or so. (Sure, most resources I consult say antihistamines don't have a great impact, but each time I've been in the ER with this, they inject me (once, via an IV) with benadryl, and symptoms subside.)

Ergo, with my exhaustion and antihistamine fog (and uncomfortable cheek area for a day or two), I wasn't up for a movie in a theater. No doubt it would not have been a pretty sight had I encountered someone not observing proper movie theater etiquette; my patience was a little thin. ;-)

(Yes, I've had more problems lately with the angioedema. No doubt, that's been because of my stress over the move, the brand new (and different) teaching, and the upcoming recruitment season (which every few days has me completely nauseated), adding to that probably new allergens weakening my defenses, and the stress over this brand new part of my career, and the move, and the recruitment. . . did I mention the stress? ;-) ). A couple of weeks ago I thought the pain in my upper ab area could only mean a terrible thing with my spleen---until I remembered the angioedema can cause swelling of internal organ areas. Um Hmm. Not pleasant. But still manageable, and I have two--- count 'em, two---epipens for just in case, and I'm less than two miles from the nearest hospital. I also have my neighbors on speed dial. (she's getting her PhD in nursing.)

(What, you ask, am I talking about? Angioedema is, ahem, let's call it a character-building condition. (life, after all, is better when your glass is half full, yes?) It's one in which, for no apparent reason, and with little notice, something swells. Maybe it'll be a finger (causing me to have a ring cut off my finger in high school), or maybe it's your bottom lip (causing my grandmother one Thanksgiving to ask who had punched me), or maybe it's patches of skin on your scalp (and who said being a law student wasn't a hair-raising experience?), or maybe it's inside of you somewhere around the area of your spleen. Most often with me, it's an eyelid. And usually just one. Maybe throw in half a lip. Oh yes, that'll build some character. It gets scary when it's been my the inside of my throat, but it's always been only half of my throat. even still, yes, that has sent me to the ER several times. Good times. ;-) And yes, stress aggravates the condition. My worst bouts were the spring during which I applied to law school, bought a house, and quit my job; during law school; and now, this summer.

I think I need to learn to meditate. :-)

Or at least I'll try to pick up an extra yoga class.

Yoga, by the way, is going splendidly. I really like this instructor's approach. We work on something specific each week. Tonight was deep breathing. And I moved another step closer to a headstand.

Anyway, what I *did* do on Sunday afternoon (after heading out to the 'burbs for a trip to Petsmart) was to get a movie from Blockbuster--recommended by dear Mom. Yes, she's still got that pesky screw in her ankle, the surgery to remove it has been postponed repeatedly. And through the summer, she's been able to (had to?) watch a LOT of movies. One of those was Elizabethtown.

It was a cute movie, but the main reason Mom mentioned it to me was its reference to Memphis. In part of the movie, one character takes a road trip that was choreographed and planned by the other main character. And she leads him through Memphis.

While here, she said he had to stop at one particular place, and Mom even wrote down the name of it to tell me where I just had to go.


(Yes, I've now been to this place where I just had to go; I'll post about that in a couple of days. Going there prompted me to watch another movie, and this one I highly recommend: Black Snake Moan (but it's not for the faint-hearted). It too was filmed on location at this particular place Mom sent me. No, Black Snake Moan didn't mention the place by name the way that Elizabethtown did, and it's a much darker movie, but it's one worth watching. Having watched that one, now I've put Hustle and Flow on my list---same director, and both were filmed in Memphis.)

Anyway, another place highlighted was the Lorraine Motel---now the National Civil Rights Museum. It was already on my list, but just glimpsing what the exhibits look like through the movie, it's moved way up higher on the list. Besides, I am sure it's going to be crazy-busy next spring, with it being the 4oth anniversary since Dr. Martin Luther King Jr was shot---at that motel.

Other than that, classes are going well. I still have lots to do to get ready for my speaking engagement next weekend, so I'll be busy for the next ten or so days.

Ah---but in the middle of everything else, it was finally time to honor my bargain and make a pie. See, when looking at my house, and upon noting the almost zero counter space in the kitchen, I (trying, naturally, to be positive) mentioned that the counter was, after all, big enough to roll a pie crust out on. My leasing agent's eyes grew, and she said, "You make pies?" We then got into quite a conversation about pies, and as we continued to walk through the house, and I kept pointing out things that needed to be done, she said, "If I get all of these things done, then you'll make me a peach pie?" I agreed.

Now, this has made a beautiful hypo for my contracts students. I've played with the words in several ways and have already planned several more. And regardless if it's actually a contract, it was a promise, and whether or not legally enforceable, I had a moral obligation.

And so yesterday, I baked my first peach pie, and I delivered it this morning. Upon doing so, my leasing agent offered to get an electrician out to fix the antique light fixture in the living room that won't work. (It's not a necessary light; it's one of five candle-like fixtures on the wall, and I also have an overhead light and a lamp.) And so, yes, keeping your moral obligations---those social promises---isn't just good for the soul, it might result in more coming your way. The way I usually see it---keep the balance of good karma points always on the plus side. :-)

Look for another post soon regarding that special place in Memphis I've visited. And in the meantime, here's a pic of Sophie in what's become one of her favorite spots: