(recited on Oct. 26 the day after Craig’s killer full moon class
that had everyone howling)
Confess the truth, follow the truth
Confession 1 : The truth is I’m not a Go Go dancer
like I told everyone
in the beginning. I am a triple Scorpio rising and emerging.
Confession 2: Today (Oct. 26) is really NOT my birthday.
I only said that so I could get a hold of
the mic (Craig feels challenged, out of control,
perhaps, with a fiery Scorpio on the mic who won’t let
go.) I tell him to relax, breathe; I’ve only got a few
things to say (notebook full). I tell him he’s going
to like it. Give up the mic, Craig!
The Present
Just listen.
Last night I felt so alive.
On my way to the beach,
I passed Craig coming back from the ocean
just before the 5 p.m. class.
No doubt who would be teaching.
He was so intent on the left eye, of the bird, in the tree.
Nothing but focus, intention, strength.
Power.
I didn’t just look at him, I read a volume about him.
I learned so much in that passing moment.
When he started talking about the moon,
my senses were awakened.
Hello MOON!
The balance of the moon and the sun in the sky
above our heads,
just as we melted into the floor for the mid-point savasana
was not just dumb luck.
We created that!
Craig made us laugh with his redneck,
Jersey antics
and then immediately stand at attention.
SNAP.
With his words.
SNAP.
Inflection, color, texture – all there.
His words sunk into me.
I completely forgot I was lying under the
five million pounds
of concrete and steel of the Ilikai Hotel,
under 26 floors.
Instead, I was floating on a million stars in the ocean.
Moon rising and sun setting equal and simultaneously
above my head.
Each word he said
moon, sun, heart, breath, strength, power, love
light, light, light
dropped
like a pebble into my liquid soul
as the gravity of the outside moon tugged relentlessly
on the 80 percent of me
that is water.
PLINK. PLink. Plink.
The words dropped and rippled;
I was overflowing on the floor.
A puddle.
The corona of the moon,
the rainbow light shining out of the universe,
is the same light surrounding OUR Hearts.
That dense, meaty muscle tissue that makes us believe,
makes us feel.
Silence.
Feel the connection.
300 hearts beating together,
like one giant piece of fascia was stretched over
each and every one of us,
connecting us.
Energy Moving.
E-MOTION.
The room is full.
Breathe.
Each nerve, axon, axon branch, motor end unit -
each tiny tiny muscle fiber -
stretching out like a flower petal blooming.
Total stimulation.
Ecstasy.
Pure Joy.
A smile glued on my face.
All that before the “real” yoga began.
A natural high. SO HIGH.
A spiritual journey that will never end...
Stillness.
Breathing always normal.
END
Speech cont.
"Now, because I have the mic, and only just this once,
I ask you all for a gift.
Don’t sing me a song, just listen.
Having means nothing if you don’t know how to use it.
In the same vein,
Words mean nothing if you don’t know how to use them.
That was my thought in savasana a week or so ago
after getting hammered time and time
again in posture clinic for acting like I didn’t care,
that I was lacking a connection with people, just
reading the words off a teleprompter.
The dialogue, the words, don’t mean anything
if you don’t know how to use them.
If you do, well, you have yoga ecstasy,
something many of us felt last night.
So Powerful.
The words equal the Asanas.
The Asanas, eventually, in the future,
equal health and happiness.
The more of that in the world the better.
One more open heart in the world is
one more open heart in the world.
Please help me.
Everyone, all together now, please say to me:
“Get over yourself.”
“It’s not about you, it’s about the yoga.”
“You’ve got to believe.”
Thanks to you all...My heart cries
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
The present: Confessions of a Go Go dancer
Week Nine
(From week nine of yoga boot camp!)
A journey of a thousand miles begins with
just one step.
We are stepping.
There is really nothing final about week nine of the nine week
Bikram Yoga Teacher Training.
Week nine is simply the portal in which we exit the
basic pastel water color painting
of a pear on a table
and enter a life painted in bold strokes of yellow, red, green,
purple, pink, fire
orange and blue.
Streaks screaming across a canvas.
A work of art that makes you pause and say… YES!
It is a life made of thousands of layers
where before there was just one
paper thin translucent sheet. Easily worn and torn.
Now we are so strong, cross fiber technology.
Unbreakable.
Don’t be sad, or hold onto the past,
and don’t live your life in plans of tomorrow.
The moment is NOW,
there is no time for attachment or sorrow.
Remember the smiling happy face.
Our lives have been defined by:
Sweating – letting go.
Staying alert - being present.
Rashes, pain – weakness, vulnerability.
Growing – triumphant.
Connecting – so soon, so deep, so real.
The bitter stink of detox wafting through the hallways.
We live within the cloud,
the haze that is worse than Los Angeles at rush hour.
We find ourselves in the puddles we leave behind.
In the deep subconscious jigsaw puzzle of the mind
that is completely relaxed,
pushing into the floor like a lead weight.
"I can’t lift my head! I’m falling!"
No, you’re in savasana,
just hold on and enjoy the ride.
Our lives defined by:
Desire. Desire. Desire.
To learn
To grow
To Connect
To fuck
Desire…
Admit it people you know it’s true,
Feel the energy surrounding you.
We’re all so strong and vibrant and free…
it’s not as if we only think “Lock the Knee!”
Thank goodness we are sex proof, sleep proof, stress proof here,
or else how could we resist making love and drinking beer?
It is week nine comrades
and it’s time we set our intentions straight:
Be conscious, be kind AND DON”T BE LATE!!
The fact that it’s “Week Nine” is actually inconsequential,
now that we’ve discovered our true strength and potential.
We will survive! High Five!
You remember in the beginning when Bikram made us a bet?
He said, “guess what, you haven’t even started living yet!”
Now, I really understand what he meant.
I’ve been in cold storage, my back hardly bent.
Now, I am looking behind on the floor,
I’ve got friends all around who I love and adore,
I’ve got so much, and I’m still looking for more.
It's like the window on the Rolls was opened at 90 miles per hour;
it’s a rush in my face,
nothing but power.
It’s time to wake up!
WAKE UP, even if you didn’t know you were asleep.
Time to make promises you know you can keep.
It is our duty, you see, to be all we can be.
An army of soldiers coming to set the people free.
Don’t shrink back, don’t hide, and don’t live in fear.
Set your course now, make your intentions clear…
Our mission to mend each broken, battered, weakened spine,
To bring light and love and peace to the mind.
One love, one heart is a good place to start.
Be bold, share your power, and be brave...
who can you serve meditating in a cave?
You’ve got to go and travel to spread the good word,
be free, be strong, fly like a bird.
Take it all in and hold on tight,
let material attachment go, only covet the Light.
Then you must share it with every person you see,
from Naples, Florida to ITALY...
Guess what everyone...
“We ARE FAMILY!”
Almost 300 people in Hawaii training this year,
trying to learn to live without fear.
From China, Japan, France and Spain,
we’re all here to receive the love and the pain.
We take it all with only an occasional whimper,
because we feel we couldn’t get much limper.
But, in the end we will emerge like a Phoenix from the ashes,
and we’ll all be so ready to go out and kick some fat asses!
How are weeks 10 and 11 treating everyone??
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Neighbors
(Sometime in Oct.)
Thank you for your energy, thank you for your breath. Your focused intention kept me moving this morning. Emerging from a dream.
You see, I had a hard night last night; this or that was consuming me. So slow to embrace the morning, feeling uninspired and the same same. Walking in to the stink as if dragging a giant dead cobra tail, stiff from the coccyx to the neck, coccyx to the toes. Everything loose, everything hanging.
I want to go back to sleep, I thought. More sleep, go sleep, now sleep, more sleep. Eyes closed breathing normal. Head back on the pillow where I started. Feet, knees elbows, hands – everything in one line in my bed.
It was class number 55 in half as many days. Groundhog Day feeling in full force. I stood and I breathed in and out and wanted to waste it.
But I couldn’t.
Around me were people with eyes staring straight ahead and mouths drawn in a straight line. Everyone so intently focused there in the mirror, listening and moving to the words that have become so familiar.
Power.
I couldn’t sit down; if I did then so does the guy behind me in the tiger shorts, and then the skinny, strong girl to my side doesn’t push it so hard. I can not vacuum up all the energy with my pity. I decide to try because I can and I must.
I believe in it.
And we elevate each other. Side by side. No words of encouragement. Just breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay with me. Soon you will be floating on a million stars in the ocean, just like a dream.
Thank you for your energy, thank you for your breath. Your focused intention kept me moving this morning. Emerging from a dream.
You see, I had a hard night last night; this or that was consuming me. So slow to embrace the morning, feeling uninspired and the same same. Walking in to the stink as if dragging a giant dead cobra tail, stiff from the coccyx to the neck, coccyx to the toes. Everything loose, everything hanging.
I want to go back to sleep, I thought. More sleep, go sleep, now sleep, more sleep. Eyes closed breathing normal. Head back on the pillow where I started. Feet, knees elbows, hands – everything in one line in my bed.
It was class number 55 in half as many days. Groundhog Day feeling in full force. I stood and I breathed in and out and wanted to waste it.
But I couldn’t.
Around me were people with eyes staring straight ahead and mouths drawn in a straight line. Everyone so intently focused there in the mirror, listening and moving to the words that have become so familiar.
Power.
I couldn’t sit down; if I did then so does the guy behind me in the tiger shorts, and then the skinny, strong girl to my side doesn’t push it so hard. I can not vacuum up all the energy with my pity. I decide to try because I can and I must.
I believe in it.
And we elevate each other. Side by side. No words of encouragement. Just breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay with me. Soon you will be floating on a million stars in the ocean, just like a dream.
breathe, sweets
Nov. 10 or so –
What does it mean to be floating out in the sea clinging to a tiny life boat?
You’ve done it to yourself, cast your self away for a chance to discover something truly epic, something that will feed you for years to come; or so you think.
There you are, drifting almost aimlessly, taking strokes every now and then to propel you one way, away from the place you came. It is a futile attempt because in your heart you know, a wave, or maybe just a gentle current will bring you back to where you were.
Defeat.
You must paddle harder.
Struggle harder.
But the craft isn’t even sea worthy, your mind falters. You are becoming weak, muscles complain and become stiff. You are losing faith, becoming confused about the task at hand, what you are doing and why. The person you were about to become is getting lost in the horizon, sinking like the setting sun as you drift aimlessly in the sea.
LOST.
Looking for something, grasping at the water that sifts easily through your fingertips, mocking you.
Where is the strength God gave you the pleasure of seeing for just a split moment, the vision that propelled you into the great sea with nothing but hope, ambition, strength, power.
Power.
You are afraid to realize your power. You almost just let it go. But now that you are in the middle of the sea, letting go doesn’t just mean deflating yourself again, living like the rest, it means death, drowning.
Sorrow.
The sun rises now, you squint your eyes as the golden rays invade you, filling you, giving you another glimpse of who you are and what is inside of you.
The boat is not sea worthy, you are feeling exhausted, a wave is building far off in India that will travel thousands of miles to sweep you away.
You are helpless, hopeless, floating with no direction,
no chance.
Then you remember something, just the sweet smile of a friend with penetrating knowing eyes.
You set your mind compass to where you want to go. You decide how you will get there, smiling back at your minds eye. Whispering thank you.
Then you are free.
The boat is left behind, the girl becomes one with the ocean forgetting about where and when, merging with the water.
Now she understands that there is no separation, we are all one - force, spirit, destination. There is no golden paradise no matter how long or hard you paddle. There is only the salt of the sea suckling your infant mass, the sticky air surrounding you, the sunshine caressing you and warming your chicken skin and the volatile earth energy awakening you like an insistent lover in the night…
these forces waiting for you to realize there is nowhere to go but under.
Breathe, sweets, breathe.
What does it mean to be floating out in the sea clinging to a tiny life boat?
You’ve done it to yourself, cast your self away for a chance to discover something truly epic, something that will feed you for years to come; or so you think.
There you are, drifting almost aimlessly, taking strokes every now and then to propel you one way, away from the place you came. It is a futile attempt because in your heart you know, a wave, or maybe just a gentle current will bring you back to where you were.
Defeat.
You must paddle harder.
Struggle harder.
But the craft isn’t even sea worthy, your mind falters. You are becoming weak, muscles complain and become stiff. You are losing faith, becoming confused about the task at hand, what you are doing and why. The person you were about to become is getting lost in the horizon, sinking like the setting sun as you drift aimlessly in the sea.
LOST.
Looking for something, grasping at the water that sifts easily through your fingertips, mocking you.
Where is the strength God gave you the pleasure of seeing for just a split moment, the vision that propelled you into the great sea with nothing but hope, ambition, strength, power.
Power.
You are afraid to realize your power. You almost just let it go. But now that you are in the middle of the sea, letting go doesn’t just mean deflating yourself again, living like the rest, it means death, drowning.
Sorrow.
The sun rises now, you squint your eyes as the golden rays invade you, filling you, giving you another glimpse of who you are and what is inside of you.
The boat is not sea worthy, you are feeling exhausted, a wave is building far off in India that will travel thousands of miles to sweep you away.
You are helpless, hopeless, floating with no direction,
no chance.
Then you remember something, just the sweet smile of a friend with penetrating knowing eyes.
You set your mind compass to where you want to go. You decide how you will get there, smiling back at your minds eye. Whispering thank you.
Then you are free.
The boat is left behind, the girl becomes one with the ocean forgetting about where and when, merging with the water.
Now she understands that there is no separation, we are all one - force, spirit, destination. There is no golden paradise no matter how long or hard you paddle. There is only the salt of the sea suckling your infant mass, the sticky air surrounding you, the sunshine caressing you and warming your chicken skin and the volatile earth energy awakening you like an insistent lover in the night…
these forces waiting for you to realize there is nowhere to go but under.
Breathe, sweets, breathe.
wake up
Cottage cheese hanging from glistening white thighs
Arms as weak as spaghetti
Brain nothing but 2000 sheets of blank lose leaf paper
Spine, shoulders, neck, head - all frozen forward
Soul empty like a bowl
Spirit small, heart shriveled like a raisin
Blood traveling slowly like grandma after Thanksgiving...
What are you doing here?
You live, you die – ignorant, stupid depressed.
You are convicted, guilty of wasting your life, your gift.
How could you? Wake UP.
You haven’t even started living yet!
Arms as weak as spaghetti
Brain nothing but 2000 sheets of blank lose leaf paper
Spine, shoulders, neck, head - all frozen forward
Soul empty like a bowl
Spirit small, heart shriveled like a raisin
Blood traveling slowly like grandma after Thanksgiving...
What are you doing here?
You live, you die – ignorant, stupid depressed.
You are convicted, guilty of wasting your life, your gift.
How could you? Wake UP.
You haven’t even started living yet!
Cult of personality
(Written after two weeks of Yoga death camp in Sept. 2007)
"Are you sure you’re not joining a cult" my mom asks just days before I am to leave for Bikram’s yoga teacher training in September. She wasn’t the only one, people I loved and cared about looked concerned for me; they didn’t like Bikram for one reason or another. They didn’t like the heat, the consistency of the postures, the man’s overwhelming extravagance and demeanor that seems condescending towards women and people in general.
Stupid idiots!
I had some of the same fears. Yes, I love the yoga and I never feel better than when I’m doing it, but beyond that I really had very little idea what I was getting into. But, I went and I had a positive attitude and I told everyone who doubted what I was doing to support me in the decision I had made.
So it turns out I did join a cult. But they call it a "family" and all the members are so amazingly beautiful and flexible and healthy and vibrant and fun. So far I have not been asked to sign or pledge to anything, or drink any liquids except electrolyte replacements.
No Kool Aid.
So my cult is fairly positive and inspiring and the mission of the devoted followers is to go around the world and "lock the knee. Lock the knee, lock the knee!"
Realistically the goal seems to be to connect people throughout the universe with a common thread of self-realization through the physical body, practicing the yoga, the spirit, focusing on the self, and the mind.
Mind control is probably the biggest lesson I’m learning in the cult. My guru (self) and the others here talk constantly about mind over the matter. And believe me, when you’ve done 20 yoga classes in half as many days in a room heated to about 115 degrees and you’ve been up until 2 a.m. listening to lectures and then up again at 6:30 to get ready for the a.m. class, there is a definite need for mind control. First, convince the mind to convince the body to get out of bed. Convince the mind to send positive signals to the body about the upcoming experience. Convince mind to shut up, when you feel like you are a pot roast on a low setting leaching vital juices out of your skin. Shut up the mind that tells you to sit out a posture, or fall asleep in the lectures -because you really need it and you paid for it!
Shut up the mind that tells you, "I can’t lock my knee. I can’t kick my leg out. I can’t extend any further…" So, yes, mind control is a big one.
We are 300 people sitting in a large room night after night in the lobby of the Illikai hotel in Waikiki. Elvis stayed here in the 1960s, Bikram says. He knows everyone and he doesn't take any shit. I like him. He has a personality. He is alive and on a mission to promote Bikram yoga throughout the world, and this teacher training shows that he is very successful. There are people from so many different reaches of the world. I am traveling and learning about other cultures, but just staying in one place. Hong Kong, Korea, Japan, Italy, Spain, France, England, Germany, Norway, Canada, Chili, Peru and so many from all parts of the U.S. We are all here because we believe we can help spread the word. Hallelujah and praise the (locked) knee!
"Are you sure you’re not joining a cult" my mom asks just days before I am to leave for Bikram’s yoga teacher training in September. She wasn’t the only one, people I loved and cared about looked concerned for me; they didn’t like Bikram for one reason or another. They didn’t like the heat, the consistency of the postures, the man’s overwhelming extravagance and demeanor that seems condescending towards women and people in general.
Stupid idiots!
I had some of the same fears. Yes, I love the yoga and I never feel better than when I’m doing it, but beyond that I really had very little idea what I was getting into. But, I went and I had a positive attitude and I told everyone who doubted what I was doing to support me in the decision I had made.
So it turns out I did join a cult. But they call it a "family" and all the members are so amazingly beautiful and flexible and healthy and vibrant and fun. So far I have not been asked to sign or pledge to anything, or drink any liquids except electrolyte replacements.
No Kool Aid.
So my cult is fairly positive and inspiring and the mission of the devoted followers is to go around the world and "lock the knee. Lock the knee, lock the knee!"
Realistically the goal seems to be to connect people throughout the universe with a common thread of self-realization through the physical body, practicing the yoga, the spirit, focusing on the self, and the mind.
Mind control is probably the biggest lesson I’m learning in the cult. My guru (self) and the others here talk constantly about mind over the matter. And believe me, when you’ve done 20 yoga classes in half as many days in a room heated to about 115 degrees and you’ve been up until 2 a.m. listening to lectures and then up again at 6:30 to get ready for the a.m. class, there is a definite need for mind control. First, convince the mind to convince the body to get out of bed. Convince the mind to send positive signals to the body about the upcoming experience. Convince mind to shut up, when you feel like you are a pot roast on a low setting leaching vital juices out of your skin. Shut up the mind that tells you to sit out a posture, or fall asleep in the lectures -because you really need it and you paid for it!
Shut up the mind that tells you, "I can’t lock my knee. I can’t kick my leg out. I can’t extend any further…" So, yes, mind control is a big one.
We are 300 people sitting in a large room night after night in the lobby of the Illikai hotel in Waikiki. Elvis stayed here in the 1960s, Bikram says. He knows everyone and he doesn't take any shit. I like him. He has a personality. He is alive and on a mission to promote Bikram yoga throughout the world, and this teacher training shows that he is very successful. There are people from so many different reaches of the world. I am traveling and learning about other cultures, but just staying in one place. Hong Kong, Korea, Japan, Italy, Spain, France, England, Germany, Norway, Canada, Chili, Peru and so many from all parts of the U.S. We are all here because we believe we can help spread the word. Hallelujah and praise the (locked) knee!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
one more open heart
It is dark.
Lead dropped out of the sky, burying me like a pile driver deep into the earth...
I was flying so high.
Just back from nine weeks, a rebirth...awakening of a spirit song left unsung.
Unaware it was even there, and then, out of the clear blue - like a man crying for the first time in 25 years - there is singing.
Clear.
Brilliant, but almost violent. Shaking the very core of you.
Where was this part of you all along? The part that is open to the universe, like you are best pals with everyone, in love, with a smile that penetrates everything that you see.
Hope.
A light.
A quake.
How do you take this music with you? How do you come back to where you were once you've heard that voice? It's haunting. It rings in your ears. BUZZING. Singing. A distraction from any memory of the old life.
Once you see the light, forget about the rest. Leave the men and the bars and the street lights -the fading flickering lights - the Styrofoam plates and plastic ware, the blue and white streamers... leave it all behind.
Go forth with elegance and grace and power, all for less than a dollar. A real bargain...
All with the clothes on your back; nothing but determination, presence, and passion - to love; to believe in this life. To acknowledge that one life is not enough because of the way it overflows everyday and how you lay down when it's dark exhausted.
Completly spent.
Only to rise again and look at the rays of light over the water and open yourself to it. To enter it almost, barely squinting, opening your eyes to the searing white till it hurts and you see spots of blue and green and the great unknown. Obliterating the mundane, the average normal life that snails crawl around in. Soaring, once again. Whether you are in Hawaii under the deep blue sea, or in Colorado under the gray painted sky. Don't give up. Don't give up. There is something you were meant to do and there is no time to waste...
Lead dropped out of the sky, burying me like a pile driver deep into the earth...
I was flying so high.
Just back from nine weeks, a rebirth...awakening of a spirit song left unsung.
Unaware it was even there, and then, out of the clear blue - like a man crying for the first time in 25 years - there is singing.
Clear.
Brilliant, but almost violent. Shaking the very core of you.
Where was this part of you all along? The part that is open to the universe, like you are best pals with everyone, in love, with a smile that penetrates everything that you see.
Hope.
A light.
A quake.
How do you take this music with you? How do you come back to where you were once you've heard that voice? It's haunting. It rings in your ears. BUZZING. Singing. A distraction from any memory of the old life.
Once you see the light, forget about the rest. Leave the men and the bars and the street lights -the fading flickering lights - the Styrofoam plates and plastic ware, the blue and white streamers... leave it all behind.
Go forth with elegance and grace and power, all for less than a dollar. A real bargain...
All with the clothes on your back; nothing but determination, presence, and passion - to love; to believe in this life. To acknowledge that one life is not enough because of the way it overflows everyday and how you lay down when it's dark exhausted.
Completly spent.
Only to rise again and look at the rays of light over the water and open yourself to it. To enter it almost, barely squinting, opening your eyes to the searing white till it hurts and you see spots of blue and green and the great unknown. Obliterating the mundane, the average normal life that snails crawl around in. Soaring, once again. Whether you are in Hawaii under the deep blue sea, or in Colorado under the gray painted sky. Don't give up. Don't give up. There is something you were meant to do and there is no time to waste...
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