Wild Woman – Page 17 – Karen's New York Love Affair

Yoga & Nature: The Four Directions—2013

2013 Dates TBD – Vancouver

Yoga is…

… union or communion. B.K.S. Iyengar

… a poise of the soul which enables one to look at life in all its aspects evenly. Mahadev Desai

… a way of remembering our true nature, which is essentially joyful and peaceful. Donna Farhi

… an act of kindness toward oneself. Judith Hanson Lasater

Spend a summer morning in the North Shore mountains, just 20 minutes from downtown Vancouver and 10 minutes from the Commercial Drive area, exploring your yoga practice in nature. We will spend the morning in an idyllic sandy spot in nature.

You will learn the nature psychology of the four directions, an ancient-modern model of understanding the psyche of humans and nature. Each cardinal direction has its own colours, textures, seasons, stages of life, and qualities of true nature. We will explore the qualities embodied by the directions through yoga poses that connect these elemental energies with your own physicality. This is an opportunity to deepen into your connection to yourself and the natural world.

Enjoy the carefree feeling of being a child outdoors, the vivid colours of summer, and the beauty of our westcoast rainforest with a small group of people like you who are interested in exploring the depths of nature.

Location TBD, North Vancouver

Date & Time Saturday, Date TBD, 10:00 am – 1:00 pm

Cost $69

Carpooling We will meet at 9:40 am at a location on Commercial Drive to carpool to the location.

To register Click the Registration tab and complete the form.

Questions Contact Karen at 604.251.6337 or email info@klove.nyc.

About the teacher

Karen Rempel is a certified and registered yoga instructor, and spent a year as a volunteer teaching yoga to youth in prison. She’s also taught yoga to seniors in Merritt, and developed a Yoga for the Office program that she teaches in Vancouver. She is certified and registered through Yoga Alliance and YogaBC. She is also a trained wilderness guide.

Spinal exploration: a yoga myth and healthy discs

A while ago I mentioned attending a Judith Lasater workshop on the sacroiliac joint. I promised to tell you some of the interesting things I learned at the workshop, and now I’d like to do that. I’ve followed up what I learned in the workshop with additional research about the spine, to share with you how yoga can help you can nourish your spine and prevent back pain.

Judith’s focus was on the natural curves of the spine. When each of the curves is allowed to be in natural alignment, the spine becomes a very stable structure that supports our bowling-ball head and what’s known as the axial load—the downward weight of the body when we are vertical (sitting or standing). It might seem counter-intuitive, but it is the balance of the curves that creates the stability. The diagram to the left shows a side view of the curves of the spine. The person is facing to the right.

There are five sections or groupings of vertebrae in the spine, with the curves reversing direction from one section to the next, from anterior (frontwards at the neck) to posterior (upper back) to anterior (lower back) to posterior (butt), and finally anterior and posterior again in the sacrum and coccyx. The five vertebrae in the sacrum fuse together between the ages of 16-18 and 25-26. This fusing is one of the factors that causes us to lose flexibility with age. Also notice how the natural curve of the spine situates the sacrum at almost a 45-degree angle from vertical. The 3 to 5 coccygeal vertebrae form the coccyx, which usually fuses into a single bone, but not always. As you can see in the diagram, the coccyx forms an extension of the curve of the sacrum and it tilts backwards. The coccyx is commonly known as the tailbone.

Tailbone tucked, or let the lordosis sway?

Any of you who have been in a yoga class, whatever the style, have probably been told to keep your tailbone tucked in mountain pose. I know I’ve heard it a hundred times, and learned to instruct students to do this in multiple teacher training courses. But what does tucking the tailbone do to the natural curve of the spine? Tucking the tailbone means drawing the coccyx forward, which causes the lower back to flatten, and then causes flattening up the whole length of the spine. This movement totally abolishes the natural curve of the spine, messing with the stability and the load-bearing capability that the spine has with the natural curves.

Judith encourages her students to experiment with not tucking the tailbone. In fact, to fully allow the natural curve of the spine, you might need to slightly exaggerate the curve in your lower back, especially if you have worked for years to flatten the curve. It seems like a very radical idea, because most of us have been so indoctrinated to tuck the tailbone. Judith demonstrated on three different students how the natural curve of the spine means our butts and chest are sticking out. Too sexy for this party! Many of the students had been told they had lordosis (an exaggerated curve in the lower back) and that they needed to straighten it. The pain these women have suffered as a result is shocking. Some of us postulated that the reason we are taught to keep our tailbones tucked is to keep women down! My mom and sister didn’t agree with this theory when I shared it with them. Hmm, bummer.

Another theory occurred to me when Judith demonstrated on the single man in the class that his hip bones were much higher than a woman’s, and his pelvis was a rectangular shape rather than curved like a woman’s hips. I think most of the lineage of yoga teachers in India, dating back thousands of years, were men. Krishnamacharya, born in 1888 and teacher to many of the teachers who brought yoga to the west, including Indra Devi (often called the First Lady of Yoga), B. K. S. Iyengar, T. K. V. Desikachar, Gerard Blitz, and Jean Klein, traced his lineage of male yoga teachers back to the ninth century. That’s centuries of practicing and perfecting on the male body. Perhaps the instruction to tuck the tailbone makes sense for the male body in a way that doesn’t hold true for the female one with its radically different pelvic anatomy.

I would love to hear from any of you out there, male and female alike, about your thoughts on this. Personally, I have been experimenting with the non-tailbone-tucked, natural spinal curve in mountain pose and all the other poses that move from this standing position. I must say I have experienced less pain in my sacroiliac joint—the pain that motivated me to attend Judith’s workshop in the first place. So I think there might be something enlightening and world-view shattering (on a smallish scale) about this idea of letting the spine be in its natural curve. I invite those of you with a regular yoga practice to try it for yourselves and see what you think. I also introduced this idea in a class I taught recently for the Society for Technical Communication. I will explore this further in another posting.

The discs between the vertebrae

Another fact that Judith mentioned about the spine was that the discs between the vertebrae are avascular. This means they don’t receive a direct blood supply to bring them the vital water needed for hydration, food in the form of glucose, building material in the form of amino acids, and oxygen. I was curious about this, and decided to do a bit of research to find out how the discs do receive their nourishment.

I found what I was looking for at Chirogeek.com. The discs are situated between the vertebrae, and are composed of a high percentage of water in a closed hydraulic system that is able to withstand a great deal of pressure. A well-hydrated disc is even stronger than the vertebrae themselves. Interestingly, the compression on the discs when we are standing causes us to shrink in height. The height of the disc increases as much as 20% overnight when we are lying down and the discs have the opportunity to re-hydrate.

The discs contain sponge-like molecules that hold 500 times their weight in water! The health of the cells within the discs affects their capacity for holding this water, which is what gives the discs a very high hydrostatic pressure and therefore their incredible strength to support the axial load of being upright. From the time we begin to spend most of our time upright, at about age two, until about age 10, there is a diminishment in the nutrient-providing capillary beds that supply the discs and take away the waste products of cell activity. It seems that the pressure of standing causes this diminishment. Therefore, after the age of 10, the supply of nutrients to the discs occurs through diffusion from tiny capillary beds in the subchondral bone above the end-plates of the vertebrae, and through diffusion from capillaries in the outer layers of the anulus, or outer edge, of the discs.

This diagram from Chirogeek.com illustrates the process of diffusion. The pink balls are nutrients. The mauve plates are the subchondral bones containing capillary beds. As shown here, the capillaries don’t go directly into the disc from the top and bottom after the age of 10, though there are still some capillaries that enter the outer edges of the disc.

It seems a miracle that this diffusion can occur. The better hydrated the discs, the more easily that nutrients can diffuse into them. It is easier to travel through water than through dense matter. And this is where yoga can help to improve nutrition to the discs. The movements of yoga in flexing, extending, and twisting the spine cause gentle pressure on the discs. Imagine squeezing a sponge and then putting it in a bowl of water. When you release the squeeze, the sponge soaks up the water. This is what happens to the discs when they are gently squeezed and released through the movements of yoga. The release creates a bit of a vacuum, into which water-bearing nutrients can flow. Obviously, staying well hydrated is important too.

It is often said that a flexible spine is a healthy spine, and a healthy spine is what keeps us young. With the understanding of the physiology of the discs, it is easy to see how doing yoga, drinking enough water, and getting enough sleep (which gives the discs time to re-hydrate in a non-weight-bearing position) all contribute to keeping us healthy and pain-free. Dried out discs don’t receive as much nourishment. This can lead to chronic lower back pain and possible disc degeneration—conditions that often occur as we age.

I am grateful to Judith Lasater for pointing me in the direction of better understanding why yoga is so beneficial for a healthy spine.

As a common-sense caution, yoga might not be appropriate if you already have a problem with your spine or discs. Seek professional advice if this is the case for you, before beginning to add yoga to your life.

P.S. If you’d like to read about the sacroiliac joint and how to prevent pain there, here is an excellent article by Judith Lasater.

Medicine Walk: Wisdom of the Four Directions—June 23, 2012

Finding Healing and Guidance in Nature

June 23, 2012 – Vancouver

“Journeys start from where we are. Everything starts from where we are. Where we are is where we’re supposed to be.” – Evelyn Eaton, The Shaman and the Medicine Wheel

This day-trip in the North Shore mountains, just 20 minutes from downtown Vancouver, and 10 minutes from the Commercial Drive area, will teach you tools and ceremonies for working in nature to access your own inner guidance and the guidance that nature can bring. This could be in the form of answers to questions, deepening connection with the greater mystery, healing, letting go, accepting, or gaining new strength. Whatever you need is available to you, and can be reflected to you through the mirror of nature. You will learn different ways of working with the four directions to access this guidance.

Our ceremony will begin with setting our intentions for the day and creating a sacred container for learning by creating an altar together. You will learn the four shields, an ancient model of understanding the psyche of humans and nature. Each shield corresponds to a cardinal direction, with its own colours, textures, seasons, stages of life, and qualities of true nature.

Then you’ll explore what you’ve learned on a solo medicine walk. After brief instruction, you will go on your own solo walk in nature, seeking guidance from our dear earth mother and her diverse creatures. Following in the footsteps of our ancestors from many cultures and traditions, this solo time includes fasting from food, human company, and human-built shelters. At the end of the day we will break our fast together with brown-bag lunches while we share our stories with each other around the circle.

See here for an account of last year’s inspirational medicine walk by the rushing Seymour River.

9:00 AM to 5:00 PM Saturday
We’ll meet at a location in the Commercial Drive area and carpool from there. Bring your lunch. Wear comfortable shoes for walking on hiking trails, as part of the day will be spent wandering through the woods by the Seymour River.

Cost: $50 (free for those who wish to participate if the fee is an obstacle)
To register, please fill in the online Registration Form. For payment information, see Fees.

Touchiness – in more ways than one

To touch or not to touch

I recently had the great good fortune to attend a Judith Hanson Lasater workshop on the sacroiliac joint. Judith is a world-renowned yoga teacher and author of numerous books, including one of my faves, Yoga Abs: Moving from Your Core. I was surprised to arrive at the training site and discover more than 50 teacher-students in the room. I shouldn’t have been surprised, as Judith is a wonderful teacher and obviously many of the yoga teachers and serious yoga students in Vancouver would want to come to learn from her.

I learned some fascinating information about our natural spinal alignment and how that impacts the most basic poses such as Mountain pose. I will write about that later. What I would like to discuss today is the respect with which Judith created a safe space for her students. Although we were all experienced yoga practitioners, and many of us were teachers, Judith did not make any assumptions about touching each other. She created a ground rule about asking for permission to touch, and she followed this rule herself every time she demonstrated a principle of alignment or subtle adjustment on a student. Similarly, she coached us to ask for permission to touch our partner when we worked in pairs. It seems very obvious to me that this is a foundation for creating safety in a classroom. I was very happy to see that one of the foremost teachers in the North American yoga community promotes this basic courtesy.

In several recent Yoga Outreach trainings that I attended, including their foundational teacher training and a course on teaching trauma-sensitive yoga, the YO teachers explained that when working with students in the populations that Yoga Outreach teaches, touch is rarely appropriate. Many of the students in Yoga Outreach classes in prisons, mental health facilities, women’s shelters, addiction treatment centres, and so on, have experienced physical trauma in their lives, such as physical or sexual abuse. When someone’s boundaries have been trespassed in this way, it can be difficult to say no to touch, even when gently asked by a caring yoga teacher. This is one of the reasons that touch is not advised. Another reason is that any kind of touch can inadvertently re-traumatize a student. Even a word or tone of voice can be re-traumatizing to someone who has experienced abuse or other forms of trauma.

Even in a mainstream yoga class, it is usual, though not universal, for teachers to request permission to touch before they make an adjustment. Often they will make a statement at the beginning of class about the possibility of touching, and ask students to indicate if they are not comfortable with this.

I must be like one of those people who are allergic to cats, whom the cats love to come and rub up against. I don’t feel comfortable receiving physical adjustments in a yoga class. If the teacher is moving around the classroom and making adjustments it makes me feel wary and on edge. I like the teacher to stay at the front of the room where I can keep an eye or her or him! Even if the teacher is someone I know well and have had many classes with, I still feel uncomfortable about being touched. I am very sensitive both physically and energetically, and others’ touch leaves an imprint that I continue to feel long after the touch has occurred. I don’t like it.

So you would think I would have learned by now that for some reason my discomfort with touch seems to call out like a beacon for teachers to come and touch me! Yes, I finally have learned that this is likely to occur, and I’ve thought of a strategy to deal with it. But the learning didn’t come easy.

In January I attended a class at a location I was thinking of teaching at. I was there to participate as a student while getting a feel for the location, which was in the Downtown Eastside in the back room of an organization that offers yoga classes to DTES residents as an adjunct to health services that they provide. I’d never been there before, and I’d never met the yoga teacher. I have to admit I wasn’t 100% comfortable with this scene. Being in the DTES is a bit challenging for me, and attending a class with DTES residents was scary. Although I must say, the women who attended the class seemed like ordinary, high-functioning individuals and not at all different from students in other classes I’ve attended, except that they were a bit older than the average student in a yoga studio.

Nonetheless, I felt a bit on the hyper-vigilant side as students came in. The teacher turned off the light in the room, so there was only dim light coming down a hallway from the front room. This made me feel uncomfortable, but it seemed to be what the other students were used to. The teacher began the class late, and did not remark on this with an apology, but perhaps not being too vigilant about time was intended to make students who were late feel okay about attending. This was another difference from what I’m accustomed to, because usually being punctual about time is a way of respecting students’ schedules and setting clear boundaries for the class. I didn’t mind it beginning late, but the teacher also ended the class quite late, and to me that is disrepectful of the students’ time.

I don’t know, I suppose all these things were the conventions the teacher had established after founding the class there and teaching it for 3 years. But to me it was as if I had entered some weird Twilight Zone where all expectations are blown away. I was doing my best to deal with the norms of the class, and when the teacher began teaching, I was very impressed with her skill as a teacher. She had prepared a lesson about cleansing out the digestive system after over-indulging on the holidays, and had a second theme about protecting the joints when extending limbs. Wow! I was impressed.

So I was participating in the class, and exploring the subtleties of inner perception that the teacher drew my attention to. I was really getting a lot out of the class, and it seemed like the other students were too. Then we were all in child’s pose, and the teacher began moving around the room. Uh-oh. I noticed she was approaching various students, but couldn’t really see what was going on since my face was on the mat. And, in case you are not familiar with child’s pose, my ass was in the air. It is a very vulnerable pose. In the trauma-sensitive training they advised to use extreme caution about putting students into this pose, because it can trigger trauma. Think about it! Yet here the teacher was, going around the room and approaching students from the rear while they were in this extremely vulnerable pose.

Still, I didn’t dream that she was going to touch me. We had never met before. I had not granted her permission to touch me. She hadn’t said anything about touch at the beginning of the class. I felt uneasy as I sensed her approaching my mat. Then she did it–she bent over and placed her hands on my kidneys–one on either side of my waist. I turned towards her to say don’t do that, and she removed her hands and moved away before I had the chance to say anything. But the imprint of her hands remained for the rest of the class. I felt violated, and this incident did retraumatize me.

At the time, I was trying to cope, and mindful of the fact that I was supposed to be teaching there soon. I felt I had to get along with the teacher, and go along with what was happening. Big mistake. I over-rode my own instincts in order to be nice and go along, instead of shifting out of the pose and looking after myself. I wanted to deal with this maturely!

At the end of the class I waited for an opportunity to speak privately with the teacher. After complimenting her on the class, I explained to her that I hadn’t wanted her to touch me and that in trauma-sensitive yoga trainings that I have attended they teach that touching students is not appropriate. She did not apologize for touching me or express any concern about how her touch had impacted me. I guess this was new information to her and she didn’t understand how what was obviously a good intention could leave a bad impression.

Unfortunately for me, I learned the hard way that I have to set clear and definite boundaries even if there is no easy opportunity to do so. From now on, if I ever attend a yoga class again, I will be sure to speak to the teacher before the class begins to make it clear I don’t want to be touched. Yoga is supposed to be healing, not harmful, yet this incident was very distressing to me. I later experienced a panic attack when I was out for a run and remembering the class, and I ended up having to go to a trauma therapist to de-activate the triggered event of being held around the waist and physically beaten.

I have been reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s new novel, The Novice. He writes about a woman who responded to extreme injustice and physical violence with equanimity and magnanimity towards her aggressors. Clearly, I have a long way to go towards healing and being a spiritually enlightened being. Even now, I feel resentful towards the yoga teacher, and even towards my trauma therapist, who was supposed to have helped me deal with this trauma already! Although I am sure the yoga teacher meant no harm, I am still angry. And underneath the anger, I am hurt that she did not care how I felt, or admit she had done anything wrong. As always with events that impact us strongly, there is still more for me to understand about what happened that day.

A father’s forgiveness

I keep meaning to get back to the story of my first vision fast, but today I feel inspired to tell you about my second vision fast. Did you ever see the wonderful Japanese-Icelandic film Cold Fever? It tells the story of a Japanese man who feels reluctantly obligated to travel to Iceland to perform a mourning ritual at the place where his parents died in a river accident during their trip to Iceland 7 years before. This movie was very inspiring to me, and in 2001, the spring after my father died, my family held a private ceremony to scatter my father’s ashes in the Horsefly River. We sang Amazing Grace on the hillside overlooking my mother’s ranch, and then walked single-file to the river, each holding a candle. We released his ashes into the river, and poured in some of his favourite vodka. The candles bobbed on the water, floating with the current until one by one they were extinguished. I was very moved that my mother and four siblings were each willing to participate in this nature ceremony that I had created, and each brought their own unique contribution to add to the ceremony.

But mourning a parent can be a long process, and when I set out to do my second vision fast, in 2006, I still had many unresolved feelings about my father and our relationship. I was still mourning him, and seeking some kind of peace that eluded me. My father was diagnosed with a brain tumour in 1998, after driving into a ditch when his vision blacked out. He gathered the family together in Kelowna to tell us the news, and had an operation soon after. Luckily, he lived for two more years after the operation, before the tumour grew into different parts of his brain and took his life. This gave us time to spend together and make peace with the past as much as we were able to, each one of us. I know my father sought forgiveness for his failings as a parent, and he asked each of his children for this forgiveness. I thought I had given it to him already, but there are many hidden places in the psyche, and they reveal themselves in their own time.

My father was not on my mind as I prepared for the vision fast in 2006. I was travelling to Boulder, Colorado with my friends Dorrie and Marvin, and we were going to rendezvous with the rest of the group in Parachute, Colorado, about 4 hours west of Denver. I had been fooling around on the monkey bars at the park near my childhood home a few days before leaving, wrenched my shoulder, and was in severe pain as the trip began. It seemed the purpose of the trip for me was learning to accept feeling helpless and let others help me. When we arrived at the slickrock basecamp in the high mountain desert, I couldn’t carry my pack or set up my tarp. For someone who is fiercely independent and likes to do everything herself, this was very difficult! One of the members of the group was a doctor, and he advised me to take ibuprofen every 4 hours, and double the dose I would normally have taken. Another participant was a sales rep for Motrin! She had plenty of tablets with her, and gave me enough to last for the remainder of the trip. The apprentice helped me set up my tarp, and during the days of preparation for the solo, I received incredible support from the entire group.

We all selected our solo spots, and it turned out my friends Dorrie and Marvin were each nearby, though out of sight and hearing. I was surrounded with gentle sweet holding support. And once on the solo, nature took over, guiding me to do exactly what was needed. Originally my intention for the fast had been to deal with my fears, because during my first fast, that is what I was faced with, over and over. But for this fast, Being had something else in mind for me. I spent the first few days laying in the sun, fully clothed and with every inch of my body covered in cloth or mosquito netting to keep out the biting gnats. As I lay there, helpless, and baked, my soul was infused with the warm sun, the delicate precious desert flowers, the sound of Marvin’s drumming at dusk, the constant drone of gnats. Water, peeing, dozing. The crisp hours before sunrise and at dusk, before the gnats were out, I lay cozy in my sleeping bag. Letting myself rest and be, a vision of a ceremony began to take shape. Halfway through the third day, I knew what I needed to do.

I wrote my father a letter, telling him about the things he had done that had hurt me, and that I believed made it impossible for me to have a committed, enduring romantic relationship with a man. It is strange how the sharpness of painful incidents can resonate over the decades, outweighing the much more constant facts of Dad going to work to design logging mills to feed the family, and taking us on camping trips every summer, and mowing the lawn, and teaching me to play crib and chess. As my thoughts turned to what was unresolved with my father, it was the painful events that still cried out for resolution. In spite of years of therapy and inner work, layers of imprints shaped my soul and were not letting me be free.

Then there were the last few years of my father’s life, and the regrets I had accumulated over not being there for him as I would have wished to be. I took all of these thoughts, memories, regrets, and walked them out on a sandy path 20 yards long, in the late afternoon of the third day of my solo. Back and forth I walked barefoot on the sand, as the shadows of the scrubby juniper bushes lengthened. I spoke to my father as I walked, telling him everything I could think of. The time he asked what we did when I was young—because of the tumour he couldn’t remember the early days of our family—and I said we watched TV. A moment of anger because I could not forgive him for the abuse. How I wished I could have opened up to him in that moment, and had a real conversation about how it was when I was young, and the fullness of our family life back then. The good memories of him wheeling me and my sister around the yard in the wheelbarrow of grass cuttings, him making loud exclamations of peril and me and Kim screaming with laughter. I told him all the memories, good and bad. For hours I did this walking meditation in conversation with my father. A one-way conversation, but I felt he was listening. I told him everything that still hurt my heart. I talked until there was nothing left to say, and it was nearly dark. The sand had grown cool under my feet.

Feeling quiet and empty, I moved off the sandy path I had made, back to my solo spot, where I intended to carry out the next part of the ceremony—the burning of the letter and letting go of the hurt and resentment I had carried all these years. But the spirits of the ceremony had other ideas! The wax-coated waterproof matches I had brought with me in my pack would not light. Over and over I struck them, but not a spark or sizzle of cooperation would they give. Time for Plan B. A less dramatic but equally effective symbolic act was to bury the words and all the feelings that they contained. So I dug a hole in the dirt. I ripped the letter into tiny pieces, and buried them in the hole. Invoking the spirits of the four directions, of the land, of my ancestors, for support and witnessing, I spoke my intention of letting go of my anger, bitterness, and resentment towards my father. Kneeling there in the darkness on the cool earth, I felt my father’s hand gently brush against my head. I knew he heard and forgave me, and that all that was left in his heart was love for me. I felt the gentleness of his unbreakable loving connection to me, and I cried. Shards of blue and white confetti light rose into the sky, releasing the pain with my tears. My softened heart opened to the vast, personal warm holding of my father’s love.

Chair yoga for the office February 21

February 21 marks the 4th annual Yoga for the Office class at the STC’s Canada West Coast chapter. This year I will be adding a chair to the mix. Chair yoga has become increasingly popular because the aid of the chair makes the benefits of yoga accessible to almost everyone. Come learn some gentle poses that you can practice at your desk at work to refresh yourself after a stressful meeting or too many hours at the computer.

Feel the peaceful spaciousness of a blue summer sky. Simple movements combined with awareness of your breath can transform your state from prickly to peaceful in a few minutes.

No mats will be used in the class. No experience necessary. Cost is $5 for members and technical writing students, $20 for non-members. Register here.

Phantom trail run best race ever

Some of you might be wondering how the Phantom Trail Race on November 12 went. I must say, it was one of the best races I’ve ever run. It was as if I had my own personal race course set up for me in the forest, with an aid station, and volunteers at every turn of the course to cheer me on and show me the way.

I ran the race with my friend Tim Kelly. For some reason, the organizers decided to start the race a few minutes early. Tim and I had been waiting in his car for the race start, because it was very chilly out. So when we got to the start line, we found out we’d missed the starting gun. Oh well! All the other runners were well ahead, and soon Tim had disappeared into the distance as well.

A short way into the course I met a race volunteer who was looking for some lost sheep–runners who had strayed from the path. They were soon found, and we did a short technical section of the trail, involving steep, slippery stairs, together. Then they were off into the distance, and my own personal race began. For the next two hours it literally seemed like I was the only runner in the forest.

Two more hours, you ask? For a 12 KM race? Yes, this is part of why it was the most enjoyable race ever. I treated it like a Sunday run in the woods–a long, slow run. I didn’t try to go fast, but just let my body go at the pace it wanted. For the entire race! It was cold, wet, muddy, and raining, but I was in heaven. There was lots to interest me, as much of the course was new to me; a mystery around every turn. I had a map to guide me, which kept me from getting too anxious about not knowing where I was.

The scariest section of the race was an extremely steep mossy, slimy wooden staircase that led to a narrow wood suspension bridge over a very deep gorge, with rushing waters far below. I slowed to a snail’s pace for that bit, terrified that I might lose my balance, slip, and fall into the gorge. I didn’t, of course, and after a short climb on the other side of the bridge, came to the aid station. The folks there were very kind, and offered me all manner of goodies. I had a tiny Clif bar, and a drink of some sweet pink substance, and felt very energized to continue for the second half of the race.

As you might expect, given my late start and my very slow pace, I was the last runner to complete the race. But this was not a problem for me. I felt tremendous pleasure at running for 2 hours and 15 minutes straight, at my own pace, in my own private race. What a gift! Thanks to all the organizers and volunteers who made this incredible experience possible.

The power of Kundalini yoga and a simple hip opener

Today is the 30th and final day of the Reach Out Challenge. On day 28, I thought that since it was nearing the end I should step it up a notch, and I hoped that I could meet the challenge of Kundalini yoga. OMG!

A friend lent me a Maya Fiennes DVD—Kundalini Yoga to Detox and Destress—a long time ago, but due to the whiplash I was recovering from, I didn’t try it at the time. Kundalini yoga can be very vigorous, and works with the spinal channels (called nadis in Kundalini yoga) by moving the spine rapidly in evey direction throughout the course of the practice. In my injured condition, that type of movement was out of the question. But now, I hoped that with 27 days of daily yoga practice behind me, the body was prepared and I would be able to do the practice safely.

I don’t know how long the total class is, because I didn’t make it that far, but I did the first 45 minutes. I definitely got the kundalini rising—I felt energized and in an ecstatic state of bliss when I sensed into my experience in the pauses between movements. There were challenging moments when it took a lot of effort to keep going, but the teacher’s coaching at those times helped me through. And it’s the pushing through resistance that opens up stuck places in the body, allowing energy to move there. This is certainly a factor in the bliss experience. Breath too, of course, helps to get the energy flowing and altered states to occur. There was an open-mouthed breath of fire that I’ve never done before, which actually has an interesting cooling effect in the mouth and throat. Even though I didn’t have the time or endurance level to finish the whole class, I felt the benefit right then and there, and was looking forward to trying again another day.

The class was a detoxifying practice, and after I did it I took the pre-dinner supplements for the herbal detox I’m doing (to break the sugar habit). Well let me tell you, there was a huge release of toxins from my body shortly thereafter! I felt quite sick for a while there, and couldn’t finish my dinner.

Yesterday I went for a run, and it was one of those effortless runs where the path sped under me and I didn’t know who was doing the running. It was quite blissful, and in fact the whole day had been great. I wondered if it was the sugar detox, and release of all the toxins. I didn’t really think about the Kundalini yoga and how that might be affecting me.

After the run I decided to do my regular yoga practice, so I could really stretch out my leg muscles. (Every yoga class has a particular focus, and when I do other teachers’ classes, they don’t have the full range of stretches my legs like when I’ve run). As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been doing my practice since 2003. It’s based on Sara Ivanhoe’s Basic Yoga Workout for Dummies, and I’ve added particular physio stretches that help prevent running injuries, and a few basic runners’ stretches. This is the practice I taught in the Chirunning and Yoga workshop. Anyway, my body knows this practice, and I know my body through this practice. I know how it feels in different poses, and what the limits are in each movement.

As I’ve mentioned at other times during the Reach Out Challenge, I’ve been noticing little shifts in range of movement, new body awareness, and new awareness of subtleties of poses due to the learnings from new teachers. But my practice yesterday blew the previous gains out of the water. I could not believe how much the range of movement in my shoulders had increased! In the side bend it felt a little different, but in extended side angle I really noticed it—my shoulder rotated inches further than before! It was amazing. Working at a computer all day, I have a lot of stiffness in my shoulders. The Kundalini yoga class opened them right up, more open than they have been in a decade of aging and stiffening. Wow! Now I really can’t wait to do the class again.

The final part of the story about Kundalini yoga happened last night when I was doing phone inquiry with a friend from the Diamond Approach. It was open-ended inquiry into my experience in the moment, and I started with closing my eyes and sensing in my body. I immediately noticed a sensation of two cords spiralling at the base of my spine, twisting around each other. The ida and pingala nadis! I spent the next 20 minutes scanning up and down my spine, sensing how the energy was spiralling up, continually, around and around, and spiralled right out the crown of my head. Kundalini rising! The spirals seemed to shine a light of curiosity, interest, and affection on all the cells of my body, as they twisted around and around, shining the light in every direction, over everything. Even now when I sense inside the spiralling movement is there. The energy just keeps rising and rising, going out through the top of my head. I can sense it until about 8 or 12 inches above my head, and then it moves beyond my range of sensing. I wonder if it is supposed to keep doing that? Since I didn’t do the end of the Kundalini yoga class, maybe I missed the step where the doorway is shut again? I definitely have to try to make it through the whole class to find out. Plus to keep these channels open, now that I have tasted the fruits of natural energy and bliss.

In my last entry I mentioned Jesse Enright’s Smart Yoga Tip: Pelvic Decompression, and I decided to try that when I went into tree pose during my practice yesterday. Again, unbelievable! My hips rotated outwards farther than they ever have before, and with such ease. It felt like they could actually start pointing backwards! But there’s more to the story of this benefit, because I used the tip again this morning. I was sitting doing my morning meditation, and felt a familiar pain in my left sacroiliac joint. Darn! After such a great day yesterday, why was this happening? I don’t know what made me do it, but I just had the idea of expanding the position of the hip bones outwards, to stretch out the pelvis a little. I did this, and suddenly I was sitting in a much more solid way than I ever have before. And the pain in my SI joint disappeared entirely! Wow. Could it be that all these years I’ve been compressing the joint because of the way I sit?

It felt very weird to take such a wide seat, with the hips spread further apart than usual. The first concern was about body image, and that I would look fat. At 6:00 in the morning, alone in the dark, doing my meditation, I was worried about looking fat. What a disservice our culture has done to women. F$%k! I had learned to sit in a way that would make me look thinner, and it has been giving me chronic pain for years. Another mysterious learning from the practice of yoga.

Today is the last day of practice, and then the challenge is over. Thanks to my friends and family who have pledged 50 cents or a dollar or even two dollars a day for the 30-day Reach Out Challenge. The total pledges is now at $285 dollars! Almost at my goal of $300. If you haven’t done so and would like to sponsor me to raise money for Yoga Outreach, you can use the online donation link. Or phone me at 604.251.6337 or send an email to kyrempel [at] gmail [dot] com. For those of you who are pledging by cheque, I will be calling you soon to collect your pledge money. Thanks!

Another divine yoga week

Since my last entry I’ve had another seven chances to expand, learn, and grow through my yoga practice. The Reach Out Challenge has been a gentle invitation into new beginnings on the mat, especially in combination with the one-month membership to My Yoga Online.

In the past week I’ve repeated the Short Hatha Flow class, done several of my own practices, and tried these new classes:

Developing Internal Balance – with Carolyn McManus

Grounding Breath Yoga Flow – with Kreg Weiss (co-founder of My Yoga Online). This is the most gentle class I have found yet. Nothing hurt when I did this class! And I really enjoyed the different breathing practices. Truly a class for slowing down the pace and getting in touch with deeper reality. I liked the way Kreg suggested the possibility of getting in touch with our true nature once the mind had quieted. I hope that many people benefit from this class.

Smart Yoga Tip: Pelvic Decompression – with Jesse Enright. A helpful mini-tutorial about the muscles in the pelvis and their role in holding everything in place as well as allowing opening in the hips.

Sea Side Yoga Flow – Michelle Trantina (co-founder of My Yoga Online). Is that Vancouver I see in the background?

I continue to make new discoveries in my regular yoga practice as a result of the learning and exploration in the classes with the other teachers. I find that when I do my own practice at my own pace, I have more time to explore and deepen into the pose than in most of the classes (except the restorative yoga classes, of course!). I have a new appreciation for the luxury of taking my time in a pose and seeing how far my muscles want to stretch. In the past I have gotten into the habit of just holding the pose for 6 breaths and then moving on, because that is my routine. But often my muscles want to stay a little longer. So doing the restorative classes really opened up the invitation to hang out in a pose. Plus needing to do a full 30 minutes, rather than rush through my practice to be done in 10-20 minutes, is a support to take more time in the poses.

Since Halloween fell during the past week, I thought you might like to see pictures of the dear little pumpkin I carved. This was the first time in years that I had a doorstep to put a pumpkin on. By 7:30 I’d had 42 little goblins to the door, and all the candy was gone. I hope you got lots of tricks and treats!

Three more days until the challenge is over. Thanks to my friends and family who have pledged 50 cents or a dollar or even two dollars a day for the 30-day Reach Out Challenge. The total pledges is now at $285 dollars! Almost at my goal of $300. If you haven’t done so and would like to sponsor me to raise money for Yoga Outreach, you can use the online donation link. Or phone me at 604.251.6337 or send an email to kyrempel [at] gmail [dot] com. Thanks!

The yoga torture continues

The good news is I have two more days of yoga to count towards those pledges. Friday I had a great 54-minute run and did my post-run yoga practice, and it was fantastic. But last night I came home quite late after a wonderful movie (Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris) and birthday dinner at Lift with my friend Tim. By the time I started my yoga it was after midnight in Vancouver. Rather than being transported to the intoxicating Parisian creative world of the 20s, I was transported into a bizarre world of twisted yoga discomfort!

I thought I’d continue my exploration of Melina Meza’s yin and restorative yoga classes on My Yoga Online, so I tried Yin Yoga for Spring. This class focuses on the meridian lines of inner and outer legs (for liver and gallbladder) and man, was it tough! I just couldn’t get comfortable in any of the poses, even with extra props like straps and cushions.

The first pose was a few moments of reclined butterfly, and that was fine. She always starts the class with something that feels good. But then we did happy baby pose, which I could not do at all. It was agony even with a strap. I am not a happy baby, evidently. This was followed by pigeon and a seated twist that were torturous, really getting into the inner thighs and hips, and fighting with the stored chocolate in there! I was hoping the final pose would be easier, but it was a butterfly forward bend. I have no idea how the student in the video gets her forearms down on the floor. Even seated on a cushion, I was more than a foot from the floor and suffering every minute. I finished the session with 3 minutes of savasana on the bolster, and felt strangely at peace. Was it because the torture was over, or because the torture and actually helped in some way? Being somewhat of a masochist, I suspect the latter.

Thanks to my friends and family who have pledged 50 cents or a dollar or even two dollars a day for the 30-day Reach Out Challenge. The total pledges is now at $285 dollars! Almost at my goal of $300. If you haven’t done so and would like to sponsor me to raise money for Yoga Outreach, you can use the online donation link. Or phone me at 604.251.6337 or send an email to kyrempel [at] gmail [dot] com. Thanks!