Harmony: Paying It Forward

In 2005–2006 my wife at the time, Celeste, and I were taking our second yoga teacher training at Soma Yoga in Salt Lake City, Utah. Also taking this yoga training was an incredible musician, Leraine Horstmanshoff, a woman who would become a great friend and frequent musical collaborator during the following many years. Though Leraine and I have been in and out of touch for the past 16 years, it’s always a happy reunion when we reconnect. Looking back over the years that I’ve known Leraine, it’s remarkable how much of our history has harmonized together, especially when life gets real.

Life got very real one cold January day in 2006. On this ominously, gray, and snowy day, we were attending our yoga teacher training and during the break, many of us in the training left the venue and battled slippery and slushy roads to trek across town to attend a memorial for a fellow yoga teacher in the community who had been killed in an automobile accident. I went early to the memorial and Celeste was planning on meeting me there.

At the time, Celeste was suffering terribly with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome which often caused her debilitating fatigue as well as severe brain fog, compromising her mental ability to make good, quick decisions. As Celeste was navigating the snowy roads on that fateful day, she failed to see oncoming traffic and pulled into an intersection positioning herself to be severely t-boned by an oncoming SUV. The SUV barely had the time to brake and the impact of the crash struck her squarely on the drivers-side door braking several ribs, her sacrum, her pelvis, collapsing a lung, and giving her a severe concussion, momentarily rendering her unconscious.

While unconscious, Celeste had something like a near-death experience where she traveled to another world as she danced in the dappled grasses of an idyllic Irish landscape overlooking the ocean and listening to a melodious Irish flute on the wind. In her vision, she turned back to see me reaching my out out to her which presented the choice to either remain in this painless paradise or take my hand and return back to the world of travails. After a moment of decision, she chose to take my hand and doing so, instantly came to and found herself back in this world amidst the chaos of broken glass, sirens, and the indescribable pain of her accident. As she told the story later, she described the excruciating pain she was experiencing juxtaposed with the exquisite presence of soft snowflakes drifting through the broken window and landing gently on her skin like kisses from angels.

Already at the memorial and wondering why Celeste was taking so long to arrive, I watched as a nearby friend received a call on her cell phone (Celeste and I shared a phone then). My friend's face darkened as she received some dire information after which she hung, looked at me squarely, and said, “Celeste has been in a serious accident. We need to go to the hospital immediately.”

Celeste was in the hospital for 5 days after which she was relegated to bedrest for almost 2 months as her bones slowly knitted back together and during which she had to learn to walk again. The accident, a devastating event on its own right, one which only added insult to injury to her already debilitated state because of her Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, additionally caused us both a great deal of stress and struggle: We were poor, uninsured, 20-somethings and this accident had demolished our car and instantaneously put us 10s of thousands of dollars into medical debt. We needed help.

Understanding our dire need, Leraine decided to use her musical talents to help us out. She hosted a fundraiser kirtan at the yoga studio to help raise money for us and in some way put some measure of harmony back into our lives. In case you’ve never experienced a kirtan, it's a call-and-response musical experience, like a concert, that engages the participation of the audience to sing Sanskrit chants to music and often interspersing them with English verses. For me, singing in Kirtan is one of the most spiritual experiences I have ever had and Leraine is a master at leading them.

Celeste was too incapacitated to go but I went and graciously accepted the generosity of this offering. The kirtan was held in the comfortable heart of the yoga studio we had become so accustomed to during our yoga teacher training. All of our fellow teachers in training were there as were dozens of others from the community, all in support of helping us out in some way. I was existentially magnified with gratitude for everyone who came together to chant, sing, and cry together in the spirit of this generous offering. By hosting this event, Leraine helped to raise several thousand dollars to help us out and ease our struggles a bit.

At the end of the kirtan, I stood up in front of the warm assembly and offered my sincere and humble gratitude to everyone. "This incredible generosity you've all shown us is not something you pay back. It's something you pay forward."

Well, more than 16 years later, now is my chance to pay it forward and in the perfect circle of harmony, it turns out that this time I get to help Leraine.

Recently I was talking to a friend who informed me that life suddenly got very real for Leraine who is in the throes of her own healing journey as the result of pancreatic cancer. The news hit me like a sucker punch to the gut and immediately I felt something drain out of me. I immediately called Leraine to see how she was doing and what I could do to help. On the phone, Leraine sounded surprisingly alive, happy, and joyful. “You know, Scott, this healing journey is the most spiritual experience I’ve ever had. It’s crazy because going through this process has left me feeling more alive than I’ve ever felt in my life!” She relayed with complete exuberance how this healing journey has given her a genuine joy for life, a profound appreciation for her body, and a beautiful connection with doctors and care-givers, family and friends. I told her that I wanted to do whatever I could in order to help out and I asked her if this time I could help organize a kirtan for her and asked if this time I could participate by leading a Yoga Nidra practice that would help us all connect to that eternal part of us that is always whole as we create a felt sense of Oneness. She happily agreed and said that she’d even be able to perform.

Truly, Leraine was meant to give music to this world and even at her own healing fundraiser, she will grace us with her music and share her spirit, light, and harmony. I'll add to the spirit by offering a Yoga Nidra practice designed to help us all connect to that part of us that is eternally whole so we can all experience a portion of the Oneness that binds is together in perfect harmony.

My friend Meg graciously volunteered her beautiful outdoor space to host this event. 100% of the funds raised will go directly to Leraine to support her in her healing journey. Please join me in this evening of connection, joy, and celebration as we come together to support one of the world's brightest stars.

May we all celebrate what truly matters most in this world by loving each other and making every day magical by simply practicing presence.

Namaste,

I Love Good Humor

I love good humor. I love a perfectly delivered punch line packaged with impeccable comedic timing. To deliver good humor with an unmovable poker face is nothing short of an art form. However, it takes a great bit of self-awareness and an even better sense of humor to get the joke when it’s on you. 

I also love music. As a musician, listening to music is very important to me. One of my greatest pleasures is to make a listening pod of my car and take in an entire album as I'm driving around town. I love to digest an album over the course of a couple of days or weeks, listening to it on repeat, hearing the way the songs relate to each other, picking up on the lyrical or musical themes, and discerning the overall character of the piece. If I listen closely I might even hear musical jokes.

One of my other guilty pleasures is listening to podcasts. I guess I like to overhear other people’s conversations.

Many years ago, well before the days of bluetooth and Airpods, when my car radio/CD player was my primary means of listening to music, I was on my way to teach an early morning yoga class when I opened my car door only to discover that someone had broken into my car and had stolen my car stereo. 

I was devastated. 

My car was locked, there were no broken windows, and by its appearance, the door didn't look forced open. Judging by the dexterity, skill, and ease of this job, the guy who robbed me seemed likely to be a neurosurgeon during the day and probably stole car stereos as a hobby during the evenings. Normally, when people steal your car stereo, the damage they incur trying to extricate your stereo, exponentially outweighs the value of the stereo itself. Fortunately, this guy was extremely thorough and created no other damage to the car other than a gaping, stereo-sized hole in my dashboard with a few neat wires sticking out like exposed nerves from a severed limb. In fact, the job was so neat, that I half expected to see the wires twisted off, taped, and labeled for me.

The only sloppy part of the entire job—the part that truly added insult to injury—was the fact that while so expertly absconding with my stereo, the thief was apparently so skilled at stereo theft that as he tore out my car stereo with one hand, he held an ice cream bar in the other. Stereo extracted, job done, ice cream bar finished, he wadded up his ice cream wrapper and unceremoniously tossed it on the passenger seat before slinking out into the inky darkness of the night. The Pink Panther leaves a single white glove— this guy leaves an ice cream wrapper. 

Surveying the loss, I picked up said wrapper and, fuming, was about to throw it away when I noticed its label. In nauseatingly bright and happy colors it read, "I Love Good Humor." I was too pissed off to appreciate the irony of this sickly sweet joke a the moment, however, I sensed that somehow, there may be some rich lesson in this gooey message and instead of throwing the wrapper away, I placed the it in the now vacant cavity in my dashboard that until very recently had housed my stereo, and drove away brooding.

As I sped down the street, it was like my arm had its own central intelligence, much the way an octopus’ arm does, for no sooner did I start to drive away than my arm, by complete and mindless habit, reached over and attempted to turn on my stereo, only to nudge the wrapper sitting in the stereo's empty and gaping socket. I looked over to see what gooey mess my finger had just come into contact with and again saw, "I Love Good Humor" in all its happy and sticky arrogance, gloating back at me. This did not improve my mood. 

The silence in the car was a deafening reminder that someone had seriously wronged me. Perhaps only 30 seconds later, my arm again mindlessly attempted to turn on my non-existent stereo only to receive a similar sticky result and my mood changed from bad to worse. I lasted maybe another two minutes before my now music-starved arm reached out to fill the deafening silence in the car, only to nudge the same infuriating ice cream wrapper. 

"OKAY, UNIVERSE. OKAY! HARDY HAR! JOKE'S ON ME! ONE OF THE THINGS I LOVE MOST IN LIFE HAS BEEN CRUELLY STOLEN AND NOW I HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN BY LOOKING AT THAT STUPID WRAPPER. VERY FUNNY!"

Despite my internal rant, I kept the wrapper in its new home and I drove around that day, and the next, and the next, catching myself occasionally trying to turn on my new ice cream wrapper but which only sounded more complaints in my head.

After about a week of sulking, something magical happened. No, the wrapper didn't spontaneously begin singing show tunes. Instead of listening to music, I decided to try chanting while in the car. It felt good, really good. Then after a few days I tried singing to myself. My voice rocks when no one else is listening! I also began simply keeping quiet and thinking about the yoga class I was driving to teach. I visualized which students would be there and what they might need from a yoga class. In the quiet cell of my car, I began to notice amazing things—breathtaking things. I notices things like the silhouette of the mountains against in the moonless, pre-dawn light of the morning. I noticed the way that the car felt as I drove it, the way it would take bumps, the vibrations of the engine tingling my hands on the steering wheel, the rush of acceleration. I began to notice with acute clarity my emotions and thoughts. I began to notice that all this silence was giving me an incredible opportunity to direct my attention inward and become more aware.

My teaching and my personal practices improved almost immediately. As I practiced yoga or meditated, I no longer spent the first half of practice trying to get the last song out of my head. I began to arrive at class much more ready to teach. I was less distracted, more focused, and could read the needs of a class much quicker and effectively. I found myself finally saying the things that I'd felt but could not find words to express. I said the right things because essentially my mind had already been in class since the moment I closed the car door and began to drive.  

One of things the silence whispered the loudest to me was the stark realizations that I was completely addicted, not just to music, but more pointedly to the need to have some sort of noise, to be drawn away from my own center, and hear someone else's conversation, someone else's music, someone else's jokes. 

Then one day, after  several weeks of this silence, while driving around, it finally dawned on me— I finally got the joke, the one that was sitting quietly and stone-faced in the car stereo cavity of the dashboard of my car. The comedic timing was perfect. There I was, a yoga and meditation teacher, zipping around town like a mad man, music and chatter blaring in my brain and filling up my head , only to screech my car to a halt, run into the yoga studio, sit down, and preach about getting quiet. Ha! What's more is that it took getting my stereo ripped off for me to understand the beauty of silence. “I get it, Universe! I get it. The joke is on me!” It took this lesson of "grandmotherly kindness," the ultimately compassionate lesson where the Zen master beats you over the head with a stick (or steals your car stereo), to teach you something crucial. For me, this essential lesson was how to know and appreciate stillness.
 
Eventually, I got a new stereo. Still, I learned something very valuable in those protracted months of automobile silence. I learned that no matter what our work is, if we want to do good work, we need to have a solid relationship with silence. This is what we are practicing in yoga and meditation. Now, I listen to music as a choice, not a compulsion. Now, I listen to the silence. 

I love good humor.  

I invite you to examine your relationship with silence and explore the power of turning off the noise to improve your ability to listen deeper. 

Moving Into Stillness

To start, today I’m grateful. I’m grateful for the month of June. For me, there’s a lot of celebration in June: My wife and I will celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary, Fathers Day is in June, and my birthday is in June, a birthday I get to share with my son, Elio, AND my twin brother. I love chocolate and I often call June the month of chocolate because of all its celebrations. I’m also very grateful for very dear friends, for the chance to play my sax recently with my old band, and for the opportunity to get out recently on some trails and run. I feel like I’m living my best life at this moment and that has me feeling abundant, joyous, and very, very grateful. 

In a way that doesn’t diminish all my gratitude, I don’t mind sayin’ that life has been a little nuts lately. My family and I are preparing for a great adventure. The details aren’t firm yet, so I’m a little reluctant to say too much about it but needless to say, there has been a metric-ton of preparations, changes, and hard work involved in the past several months and especially the last 2-3 weeks. I’ll let you know when our plans are firm, plans which point to living in a truly exquisite place. 

I plan on keeping Salt Lake City as a base for teaching and visiting family and friends but will be expanding my base with plans to teach retreats, trainings, workshops, and classes in various places in the US, including New York as well as in Europe, and Asia. If you’re interested in joining me for one of these adventures, please consider joining me this September for a retreat in Bordeaux with a “pretreat” in Paris! It’s going to be a blast and I’d love to have you join me. 

So yes, our family is in the throes of change as we prepare for our next adventure and frankly… I’m tired. I’m excited for what lies ahead, yes, but MAN it’s been a lot of work to prepare for this next adventure. 

With all this change I’m experiencing, it’s easy to get thrown off center. However, with the right kind of awareness, any turbulence of life, even the kind of crazy I’ve been experiencing lately, can actually point me to absolute centeredness and this paradox of moving into stillness reminds me of the Shiva Nataraj or the Dancing Shiva, a Hindu statue that illustrates how the indefatigable motion of the universe not only has the power to center me but also puts me into the current of my own personal and spiritual evolution. 

In this statue, Shiva is depicted with a calm, serene facial expression, lips turned up in a wry smile.Shiva is waving several arms (hey, I could have used a few extra arms, recently), posing beautifully and expressly as if the sculptor captured this figure mid-dance. 

In this statue, Shiva is quite hermaphroditical with female hips, a slight bosom, and of course depicted in the gesture of dancing. In ancient vedic wisdom, the male god Shiva represents pure and absolute consciousness, the underlying beinginess of all things. The female god Shakti is the dancer who, through her movement, creates all the change, form, and energy of the universe. The marriage of Shiva’s consciousness and Shakit’s motion results in the birth of everything conceivable in the Universe, including us and our lives. Truly, we are the love children of this marriage of consciousness and form, a radically expansive expression of their both/and union. Therefore, the Shiva Nataraj statue doesn’t represent only Shiva, but rather the realized both/and nature of a merged Shiva/Shakti, consciousness aroused by form. For that reason, for the rest of this article, I think it’s fair to reference this representation of blended genders and purposes with the pronoun, “their.” 

Surrounded in flames, hair on fire, and standing on an impish creature which sometimes looks like a baby (don’t worry, it’s actually a benevolent act which I’ll describe in a moment), this Shiva/Shakti image transmutes language, time, and the chaos of the universe into pure presence and depicts at least 5 steps which both help me to appreciate the ceaseless and sometimes seemingly chaotic motion of life while also pointing me to my own greater spiritual advancement.

Looking at this statue, in their upper right hand, Shiva/Shakti is holding a drum which symbolizes beating a life, pulse, and rhythm into all things in the Universe, a generative gesture which speaks to the season of spring when things are born. Modern physics attests to this universality of movement, that everything from the smallest particle to the largest galaxy—hell, even the Universe itself—is in some form of vibration, frequency, and change. This change includes light, sound, color, and even thought. As a fellow musician, I love the idea of DJ Shiva/Shakti laying down the solid backbeat for the tribe of all things as we dance around the central fire of one effulgent Source. 

Shiva/Shakti’s second hand on the right side is holding the abhaya mudra, an open-palmed gesture, one that suggests a generous holding or sustaining of what was born. If their first hand on the right side represents spring, then this hand certainly represents, “summertime, and the livin’ is easy . . . .” This gesture gives us hope and engenders gratitude for things as they blossom, grow, and mature.

Yet, Shiva/Shakti warns us against becoming too comfortable with anything because in their first hand on the left, they are holding a flame, suggesting that as easily as they can birth and sustain something, they can and most assuredly will raze it to the ground. I think of this act of dissolution as the autumnal cycle, like the eruption of fall leaves, bursting into the flames of color. There is no malevolence in this killing. In fact, the serene look on Shiva/Shakti’s face suggests that even the process of dying is all part of life’s textured tapestry, it’s partly what makes life so good and could even be seen as a great act of compassion toward us, like when an old situation needs to die so that we can move on to the next great adventure. 

Of course, after the fire, when we are in our darkest place, frozen in the winter of our pain, our inclination may be to importune the heart of the deity and supplicate for restoration. Shiva/Shakti, however, shows us that they have other plans. Instead of opening their heart to us and restoring us to the way things were, Shiva/Shakti’s other left hand is actually concealing their heart, almost as if to add insult to injury, saing, “Nah. The key into the heart of God doesn’t come that easy. You gotta work for this, kid.” 

Shiva/Shakti’s right leg is standing on a small, impish creature, something that either looks like a baby or sometimes a pig or demon. More than once, an inquisitive and well-meaning yoga student has asked me, pointing to the statue, “Um … why is that person standing on a baby?” This thing that looks like a baby is called the Apasmara, and represents the unrealized, ignorant, or less-developed version of ourselves. When we’ve been conquered, humbled, and suffered the coup de grace, Shiva/Shakti goes one step further and stands on our corpse. Yet this gesture is actually one of great benevolence. This is because Shiva/Shakti is literally taking a stand for our highest good by putting asunder the old version of ourselves. It’s like Shiva/Shakti is giving the old version of ourselves the honorary funeral rites and burial. Often, true transformation, indeed apotheosis, can only come after such a dark night of the soul as suggested by this statue. Transformation requires death and resurrection.

Finally, while Shiva/Shakti is doing their honorary Riverdance on our ignorant selves, with the only limb that Shiva/Shakti has left, they lift their left leg upward in an invitational gesture to rejoin a brand new cycle of rebirth, sustaining, dissolution, concealment, and revelation, and thus it continues for infinity. Surely, this eternal cycle symbolized in this statue represents a circular notion of time as well as the fact that our personal and spiritual evolution is also not linear but rather circular, each turn around the cycle lifting us in an upward spiral, ever higher along our pathway to personal and spiritual evolution.

In the statue, the Shiva/Shakti personage is wreathed in flames, suggesting the intense refinement and of our evolution. Yet, despite this intensity, even despite the fact that their hair is on fire, Shiva/Shakti comports an unwavering expression of stillness, serenity, and even joy. This statue shows us that in the eye of the storm of all this change rests an unperturbed stillness, a presence and Awareness which is the foundation upon which the dance of everything can occur. 

So, as I am experiencing a season of transformation in my life, one that I chose for myself mind you, I must remember that all of the crazy I’m experiencing is pointing me to a simple lesson: to be present and to join this dervish dance of personal growth. All this change points to the often disguised but undeniable truth that there is only here, that there is only now. 

As my next stage is born and I commence yet another cycle in this unending cycle of evolution, I’ll most certainly keep you up to date.

I invite you to take a moment of contemplation and consider the different cycles you may be experiencing in this moment — stages of life, relationship, or career, to name a few — and acknowledge which part of that cycle you’re on at this moment. Then, consider all the ways that the moment you’re experiencing at this moment might invite you into stillness as you are growing into your next and higher version of yourself and becoming the person who you are destined to become. 

PS

One more note of gratitude and an invitation …

I am so grateful to have discovered a way to make a living doing what I love to do—teaching, writing about, and training others to teach yoga and meditation—and to be able to do it from anywhere in the world. If you’re interested in giving birth to a new cycle of your personal evolution, in learning how to make your side hustle into your main hustle or how to turn your passions into your profession, and in making a massive impact on the world while also making a living—oh and like I said, to be able to do it from anywhere—please drop me a line. Let’s set up a free meeting, in person or via Zoom, where we can discuss some simple steps that you can take today to start to make that dream or idea into a reality. Especially as the result of people who have lost their jobs because of COVID, I’ve had the great pleasure of coaching several people lately about how to pivot their professions and start to put themselves out into the world in a way that also puts bread on their table. I’d love to discuss your ideas with you to see if we might be a good coaching match. Reach out to me clicking here

Namaste,

Just Breathe: Pranayama Training

Photo by Alex Adams

We breathe in and out every day but few of us take the time to really notice our breath let alone search to understand its power. Inside of each person is the ability to create their own vitality, calm, and balance. Understanding this immense power that exists inside also enables us to co-create the life that you wish to see for ourselves by attracting and manifesting those things that we desire. While such a power may seem like magic, it is nothing more than the inimitable power of the breath. 

Understanding a little about ancient vedic wisdom can help us understand what this power is and how it can help us achieve wellness as well as how to attract those things you wish to see in your life. Ancient wisdom states that consciousness precedes form. The essential consciousness of the Universe is called purusha. To evolve, purusha created form, or prakriti, as a mechanism to continually expand and know itself on an increasingly deeper level. 

Myths and religious stories have anthropomorphized these concepts into the primordial deities of Shiva and Shakti. Purusha is represented as Shiva and is depicted sitting in constant Awareness. Prakriti is represented by Shakti depicted as a dancer in constant movement. In this model, Shiva only wants to observe Shakti and Shakti only wants to be observed by Shiva. Shakti represents everything in the Universe that is physical, energetic, or in motion. Her great purpose is to evoke the awareness of the Shiva nature. Therefore, everything in the Universe, from the smallest particle to the Universe itself, is in a constant dance of vibration and frequency and this movement is constantly evoking our consciousness, that fundamental purusha of everything. In the practices of yoga, meditation, and life in general, our lesson is to learn to see how the tangible and dynamic qualities of our lives all illuminate our own consciousness. 

Shiva and Shakti

The Shakti nature, this life-force energy that exists in all physical and energetic objects in the Universe, is called prana. Each person can access and manipulate their prana with the simple action of their breath. Learning to do so contributes to our own well-being in body, mind, and spirit. 

To start, oxygen is essential to the well-being of our entire body; it supports the function of every cell in our body. Also, the action of our diaphragm moving up and down, massages our organs and helps everything in our body to function. 

Also, as we consciously and regularly breathe deeper, we use the full capacity of our lungs and our body and brain receives more oxygenated blood than if we were to habitually breathe shallowly. This regular increase of oxygen makes every cell in our body function better, makes our mind clearer, and even relaxes our nervous system. 

Our nervous system is very closely tied to the quality of our breath. When we are stressed we breathe rapidly and often shallowly. This triggers the sympathetic nervous system or our fight-or-flight nervous system. When we are relaxed, we breathe deeper and fuller and this triggers our parasympathetic nervous system or our rest-and-digest nervous system. The same way our nervous system can affect our breath, the inverse is also true. Therefore, if you breathe slowly and deeply, you can help your nervous system to relax, even in stressful circumstances. When feeling a little stressed, a few deep breaths can help you to calm your nervous system, get some oxygen to your brain, and give you the wherewithal to make good decisions regarding your circumstances so you can respond appropriately instead of reacting to them. When you are conscious of your breath, you will begin to feel the prana moving in your body and the experience is a tangible feeling of energy. 

By familiarizing ourselves with the prana inside of our bodies with breathing practices, we can then begin to explore how to interact with prana in ways that are external to our bodies. Remember that every tangible, energetic, or movable thing in the Universe is an expression of prana; it has a frequency. As we begin to master the prana in our body, we’ll learn how to then engage with and improve the life-force energy frequency of our relationships, jobs, and every-day living. 

The principle of sympathetic vibration states that things that when something vibrates at a certain frequency, other objects that are tuned similarly will also begin to vibrate at that same frequency. An easy example of sympathetic vibration is when a musical instrument is played in a room where there is another musical instrument—like a piano, violin, or guitar— the stringed instruments will pick up the vibration of the note that is played by the other instrument and begin to hum along. Similarly, people, relationships, thoughts, and opportunities are tuned to a particular frequency so that it responds when it’s complement sings its song. This is why you “resonate” with certain people, places, and things. 

Knowing this concept of sympathetic vibration, you can practice changing your vibration to match the kind of things that you’d like to attract to you. If you’d like to see more abundance in your life, begin vibrating to that frequency by practicing generosity, abundant thinking, and envisioning what your life will be like with that abundance. If you’d like to attract the love you know you deserve in your life, practice vibrating to that frequency by practicing self-love, sharing your love with others, and by simply loving the world around you. 

Because energy attracts like energy, you must focus your attention on what you want rather than what you’d like to avoid. When you’re focused on avoiding what you don’t want, unfortunately you’re inadvertently sending energy in the exact opposite direction. Like one of my teachers, Judith Lasater said once:

“What is worrying but praying for what you don’t want?”

Whether it is creating deeper vitality in body, mind, or spirit, or it is practicing attracting those things you’d like to see in your life, beginning to understand and change the prana in your life can be as easy as sitting down and doing this simple breathing exercise …

Pranayama Practice

Ujjayi Breath or Whisper Breath

Ujjayi Breath or Whisper Breath is performed by breathing slowly and deeply through your nostrils, about 4–5 seconds on the inhale and 5–6 seconds on the exhale. Lengthen the breaths with a very slight constriction in your throat as if to create a whisper. You do not want to be so constricted in the throat that you feel short of breath or feel it difficult to breathe. This breathing practice will help you feel slightly energized and alert if you’re feeling sluggish. It will focus your mind if you’re scattered. It will calm you down if you’re feeling anxious. It has the potential to change your brain waves into the alpha state where you can be very focused and alert if you need to do something that would otherwise make you nervous. You may do the Ujjayi Breath anywhere. It’s the breathing style that is mostly encouraged during yoga practice. You may wish to try to use it in other scenarios as well. As a dedicated pranayama practice, set a timer and practice breathing Ujjayi Breaths for 1–2 minutes, or as long as you desire. 

Remember that consciousness precedes form. I invite you to meditate on the well-being you’d like to see in your life and practice visualizing this while doing the aforementioned breathing practice to explore how you might co-create your own reality with the Universe. 

May you breathe with ease and wellness. 

To learn more about how your breath can help to improve your life, please click here.

Magic And A Military Burial

My friend and fellow yoga teacher John is a delightful paradox. It’s likely that your mental picture of a yoga teacher does not include a barrel-chested guy in his 50s with a neat salt-and-pepper beard, a happy face, and whose day job is working as a master auto mechanic. Yet this is John. Who better to understand the mechanics of a posture than an actual mechanic? Whether in yoga or in his auto shop, John’s goal is to do his part to help fix the world, either by aligning your poses or aligning the front end of your ride.

John’s true gift, whether in the studio or at his shop, is connecting with people. One way he does this is through stories. John told me a story once that I absolutely love, a story which he gave me permission to share, and which illustrates perfectly an essential life skill and spiritual principle that is often very difficult to arrive at, but which offers deep insight into the very nature of our being.

THE IMPASSE

Several years ago, John’s father owned a dog by the name of Hobo, and both of them were getting on in years. When Hobo passed away, John’s dad was devastated but always kept Hobo nearby, his ashes resting peacefully in a box. As often happens with aging partners, John’s father passed only six months after Hobo.

John has two siblings, but it fell to John to care for his dad during the last few months of his life. He also served as the executor to his dad’s estate. John told me that he gets on well with his sister but his relationship with his brother was quite strained. Prior to their father’s death, one thing that John and his brother disagreed about was what to do with their father’s remains when he passed. Their father was in the Navy during World War II and John wished to cremate his father and perhaps spread his ashes somewhere his father loved. John’s brother wanted something very different, to bury their father with the pomp and circumstance of a military funeral decorated with the proper honors.

When his father passed, as the executor, John was pressed to make a decision about what to do with his father’s remains and decided to cremate them. John kept two boxes of ashes, one of his fathers and the other of Hobo's, atop of the sacred automotive altar of his Snap-on tool chest in his auto shop.

As a Navy man, John’s father always had a reverence for the San Francisco Bay, because it was the port from which he was sent to war and which greeted him when he returned alive. John and his sister discussed the matter and decided that they would honor their father by spreading his ashes along the waters he loved so much.

John’s brother on the other hand demanded that John send him their father’s ashes to receive the honor of a proper military burial. They were at an impasse. In the end, John relented and sent his brother a box of ashes for burial.

As John was telling me this part of the story, he got a wry smile on his face and said, “And to this day, Hobo is perhaps one of few dogs in history to ever receive the honor of a proper military burial.”

I LOVE this story for so many reasons. First, the image of Hobo receiving a burial with military honors gives me a good chuckle. In many myths and spiritual traditions, the trickster is actually revered as a sacred entity because it has the power to alter the perception of our rigid thinking, the mindset that often mired us in the problem to begin with. John was the trickster of this story and in so doing actually served his family beautifully with a higher truth that could not be perceived by their current mindset. John was able to orchestrate everyone feeling that they got their way, and so it reminds me of a vital life skill and spiritual principle, the Both/And mindset or our Both/And Nature.

TANTRA

One of the ways of understanding this Both/And principle is through the lens of Tantra, an ancient eastern school of thought which suggests that everything in the universe is part of a larger whole and that everything in that whole is sacred. In many ways, the practices of yoga, meditation, and perhaps even auto mechanics, are the methods of discovering and remembering this universal wholeness. Our wholeness is our Both/And Nature, the composite of opposites that gives birth to everything else. It’s the magical place that exists at the crossroads and transports a person beyond opposites

In the Both/And mindset, opposites may come together to create something completely new. Often, this new thing contains magic, divinity, or at least the answers to a paradox, a crossroads, or an impasse. Many myths, spiritual traditions, and even the origin stories of gods themselves, whether Christian, Hindu, Native American, or Greek, have derived from some marriage between opposites that have given birth to something entirely new, holy, or magic. The Both/And principle is about blending opposites to create an apotheosis, the highest version of both opposites.

Anathema to universal wholeness is the notion of existing as separate beings from each other and from Source. Again, our contemplative practices are designed to help us remember our essential wholeness. The ancient Gayatri Mantra (Rigveda 3.62.10) states, essentially, that since everything comes from Source, I am no different than the very thing I’m searching for. This mantra expresses the epitome of our Both/And Nature.

YOGA NIDRA: TRAINING FOR CLARITY

Yoga Nidra is perhaps the one of the greatest practices I know of to help us effectively explore our Both/And Nature, one that can help us gain the mindset to creatively work through life’s problems, blockages, and paradoxes. In part, this is due to how it works directly with paradox as a mode of transcending paradox.

If you’ve never done it, Yoga Nidra is a relaxing form of guided meditation where you lie down, close your eyes, and listen to me guide you to pay attention to many different parts of your being such as your body, emotions, thoughts, etc. By learning to welcome, recognize, and simply witness all these parts of your being, you reveal the Universal element which is common between all these seemingly different parts: your Awareness.

During this process of Yoga Nidra, as your mind is becoming very relaxed, I guide you to become aware of apparent opposites (opposing body parts or emotions, for example), first individually, then to be aware of them at the same time. The experience of holding them simultaneously in your Awareness creates a cognitive dissonance which obliterates the paradox as you find yourself being the thing that is beyond opposites, Awareness itself. This process gives the practitioner immense clarity over any paradox, challenge, or impasse. The Both/And mindset isn’t just for monks meditating in a cave, it’s something we can use at home, at work, in our relationships, and in the world.

Experiencing myself as Awareness through the practice of Yoga Nidra, often by holding opposites, has been among the most illuminating experiences of my life and this is why I love to share this practice. When a person begins to identify as Awareness, it’s easy to want to dismiss normal life as something lesser than this beautiful new concept of Self. However, to do so simply creates another binary, an opposite, which keeps one trapped in that which is fundamentally opposite to Awareness, or this Both/And Nature. Instead, where the rubber hits the road with practices like Yoga Nidra, is to use Yoga Nidra to help you realign your identity as Awareness itself and then to marry that awareness back to your normal life: your job, your family, and your relationship to the world. True to form, when the apparent opposites of Awareness and your life merge, what is born from that marriage is a life that is full of magic.

Walking through life with a Both/And mentality, you may find yourself reacting less to life’s problems and instead responding to them with greater compassion. You may begin to notice the simplest of the world’s presentations and perhaps see them with complete delight. Even life’s problems and difficulties can take on an air of possibilities and beauty. Plus you can gain the perspective to see beyond those problems that seem insurmountable. In essence, this Both/And Nature can give you the sight to be able to see the world with brand new eyes.

BEYOND BINARIES

This poem excerpt speaks perfectly to this idea:

A Great Wagon by Rumi

Translated by Coleman Barks

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty

and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

~

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense.

~

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.

The price of kissing is your life.

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,

What a bargain, let’s buy it.

I invite you to bravely face the paradoxes in your life with your full compassionate Awareness, knowing that magic can happen when you expand your vision into a Both/And mindset. To help practice this vital skill, I invite you to join me this Saturday as we embark on a wonderful journey to the crossroads. On Saturday, April 24th, from 9–11 am MDT, I’ll be hosting an online Restore Yoga + Yoga Nidra workshop where we will combine these two practices and the result will be nothing short of magical. You’ll leave feeling clear-minded, rested, and with the magic to see the beauty of your life.

Reset and Nourish Yourself for Spring

search other posts

Ayurveda with Sunny Rose Healey

My good friend, Sunny Rose Healey, at Mamayurveda, is a superb Ayurvedic practitioner. This means she practices Ayurveda which is the sister-science to yoga and is designed to balance your humors, qualities, or doshas. I have the deepest respect for Ayurveda because it acknowledges the fact that every person’s pathway to wellness is unique and by observing our own daily changes in things like appetite, sleep, and elimination, we can self-direct ourselves toward balance. Other times, we are out of balance and need some guidance to help us get back into balance. This is where people like Sunny come in. She knows how to prescribe the right kinds and dosage of certain Ayurvedic herbs and practices to help get you back on track.

Yoga Nidra and Ayurveda

One of the things Sunny offers as a way of getting back on track is a seasonal reset to help you jump into the next season with your best foot forward. I’m privileged to be able to participate in Sunny’s next seasonal reset by offering a very restful Yoga Nidra session, specifically designed to support people on the reset program with sunny.

Sunny is a genius and I wanted to post her latest newsletter here to give you an idea of what she’s up to. I hope you’ll visit her site and take a look at the incredible things she’s offering. Perhaps you’ll even join me for a Yoga Nidra session to reset your doshas.

Here’s what Sunny says …

---

Are we coming out of a yearlong winter into the light of spring? ​

Oh so many views on this time–but there's no doubt it's been one of the toughest years in a long while. We could all use some love and nourishment right now.

Energy is rising as the days grow longer - Ayurveda teaches us how to harness these natural energies and direct them for optimal benefit - toward resetting habits, mental patterns and better self care. One way to work with the energies of the moment, is to cleanse at some level.

I've spent the last couple weeks contemplating a community offering (read on for that!) turning soil, moving plants, and sorting out broody hens. Plus wading through juniper pollen - New Mexicans know how intense this is.

I look forward to reconnecting with you through my newest offerings (now and down the line). If you have any requests or questions please hit reply, I'd love to hear from you.

​​News for you​

- I am offering a Nourish & Reset Spring session (yes! we're doing this) - see details below, register here if you've been waiting for this announcement.

​If you're exhausted, disheartened, or if the last year has taken on toll on you, I urge you to consider this program. We will gently cleanse, yes, but we will also nourish and tend to our bodies, hearts and minds. Consider that perhaps in a more vulnerable state, this may be just the thing, and more appropriate than an intense cleanse.

- In the shop - I have some seriously decadent goodies in the works!

A skincare line is coming ... handcrafted by me, and the epitome of slow beauty. Even now I'm beginning the month long process it takes to make one of the new toners. The line will have highly active and beneficial, luxe and all natural, organic ingredients such as immortelle, squalane, raspberry seed oil...

New soaps are on their way too - we'll have Golden Rose and Evergreen Charcoal kicking off the soap line made by my dear friend Rebeka Rose, Vital Soapworks.

​Stay tuned for the release of these beauties from Mamayurveda Medicinals

In the meantime, use code SPRING15 at mamayurvedamedicinals.com through April 15 to receive 15% off your entire order!

Nourish & Reset Spring Session registration is OPEN!

April 30 - May 9

10 days of exquisite self care, nourishment (and optional cleansing)...

this is an online program that offers you springtime specific recipes, cleansing practices, movement, and rituals for body, mind & soul

A few of the Details (see there rest here)

Tune in each day:​

• Morning and evening sadhana including ritual cleansings, Breathwork and other essental Ayurvedic dinacharya elements

• Suggested menu w/ delicious springtime recipes

• Guidance for adding cleansing elements to your 10 days (optional)

​Receive & Practice - Satsanga via:​

• 2 live webinars with Sunny, where we’ll do a group practice and take space for questions and discussion

• 2 live movement sessions with Maré

• 1 live yoga nidra session with Scott

Register:​

a) Program without supplies is $99 (discounted for 2021 from $149!), find your own supplies (detailed list w/ links provided) - with this option you can order your own basic supplies for $50-$150, depending on what you already have and what you need.​

OR

b) Program plus Luxe Kit for $299 (there are only 10 kits so sign up now if you want this option!) - this is a complete, done-for-you system and all you need for practices and food aside from your perishable ingredients.

*Want a Luxe Kit with your Nourish & Reset? Don't wait! Only 10 kits available

Learning To Be A Student

I hope you’re starting off the week wonderfully.

Here’s an article I posted in Conscious Life News that I thought was worthy of reposting. Enjoy!

---

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities. In the expert’s mind there are few.”

— Shunryu Suzuki

What Kind of Cup Are You?

There is an old zen story which asks, what kind of a cup are you? Are you a cup that is too full, not able to receive any more? Is your cup turned over refusing to do it any other way but your own? Or is you cup turned up, empty and ready to receive what the master has to offer?

When I lived in Korea, I often attended meditation retreats in the mountains with a dear friend Jin-Soon. Jin-Soon was a devout Buddhist and suggested that we go on a light hike up the mountain to her favorite temple. About two hours from our city was Geryangson mountain which housed several Buddhist temple.

It was late Autumn. We hiked, swimming in the warmth and light of the sun, especially after the biting cold of the morning. Eventually, We came to a small temple and quietly, we took off our shoes and stepped inside. Already sitting inside the temple were 2 female monks, both with shaved heads, sitting on mats deep in meditation. I wondered how long they had been there or planned to be there. They looked as though they may as well have been permanent fixtures in the temple. It felt so peaceful and quiet inside that little meditation temple.

Jin-Soon gathered mats for us placed near the door and we sat down and began our own meditation. The sun shone through the window of the door in a perfect rectangle that surrounded my body like a picture frame. I was warm and quiet. I don't know how much time we spent there. Time just dissolved.

Honoring Angels

Somewhere in the middle of my meditation, I began thinking about Ryan, a friend of my sister whom I had met on several occasions, who had died earlier that year along with his sister. It was a tragic event and even though I didn't know Ryan very well, and his sister not at all, I still felt a deep grief in their passing. I had made a promise to my sister to light a candle for them the next time I visited a Buddhist a temple. I had lit a candle several times for lost loved ones in cathedrals but I wasn't sure that such a ritual was even done in Buddhist temples.

Once we had finished our meditation, I asked Jin-Soon about whether or not people honored the dead in this fashion at a Buddhist temple and if so, how I might go about getting candles lit for Ryan and his sister. She kindly walked me to a small kiosk not far away and helped me buy two 14-inch candles. With candles in hand, I walked to the main temple, a large, imposing edifice, took off my shoes, and reverently entered the door.

The Rite of a Student

Yoga Nidra Training

Just inside the door was an old monk whose face was very wrinkled, the evidence of a lifetime of smiles. He saw the candles in my hand and I motioned that I wished to place them on the alter. He beckoned me to follow his lead and walking to the center shrine, three gigantic golden buddhas each 15–20 feet high, sitting performed a dramatic bow, he performed a rather elaborate bow, lowering himself to the floor then standing up again with his hands together in a prayer motion. I followed him the best I could, not quite remembering every step of the bow. Then, together, walked together to the alter and placed the candles gently on the alter. I retreated slowly backward and made motions to leave. My monk, however, had more to teach me.

He held up seven fingers and gestured to me that it was now necessary to complete seven more bows. Again, he repeated his dramatic motions and bade me to follow his precise movements to complete the ritual. In that moment, I had suddenly become his student. After many frustrating attempts, I finally learned the sequence: Standing with legs together, hands in a prayer stance, kneel down to the floor without using your hands. Cross the left foot over the right. Then, placing the palms on the floor, bend forward to touch the forehead to the floor. The butt must come down and touch your ankles in this position which was clearly easier for the the old monk than it was for me because my teacher couldn't figure out why I couldn't perform that part and corrected me repeatedly on this point. With the forehead on the ground, turn the palms up lifting the hands off the ground a few inches. Replace the hands on the ground, palms down, uncross your feet, and press yourself up to a squatting position. Then stand up, feet together. Finally, with hand pressed together in a prayer, make a deep bow toward the Buddha. With my every attempt at a bow, my monk hovered over me and corrected me (sometimes rather forcefully) where I forgot. When I completed my offering, my monk gave me a gentle bow and an enormous smile. I reciprocated in bowing and smiling my deep thanks to him.

The Grace of a Student

Despite my awkward offerings, I'm nonetheless convinced that Ryan and his sister were somehow sitting as angels in the rafters, happily laughing at my tutelage and grateful for my gesture. I'm sure of it.

According to you, what are the qualities of a good student? For me, principal among the qualities of a good student is grace, the grace of allowing yourself to be taught, to have an open cup.

As a life-long yoga teacher and practitioner, I will always consider myself first and foremost a student of yoga. Even as I am teaching, I am learning in the process. It's a beautiful paradox, learning while teaching. Whether by formal teaching of a master or from the masters degree from Knocks University (the school of hard knocks) if your eyes are open and heart humbled, there is always something to learn.

With the beginner's mind, there is always now. There is always wonder. There are always possibilities.

I invite you to embrace the beginner's mind in all of your practices, passions, and in the study of life.

---

Scott Moore is a senior teacher of yoga and mindfulness in the US. He’s taught classes, trainings and workshops in New York, San Francisco, Salt Lake City, and L.A. as well as in Europe and Asia. Scott is the author of Practical Yoga Nidra: The 10-Step Method to Reduce Stress, Improve Sleep, and Restore Your Spirit. When he's not teaching or conducting retreats, he loves to write for print and online publications such as Yogi Times, Conscious Life News, Elephant Journal, Mantra Magazine, Medium, and his own blog at scottmooreyoga.com. Scott also loves to run, play the saxophone, and travel with his wife and son. Check out his yoga retreats and trainings in places like Tuscany, France, and Hong Kong , his online Yoga Nidra Course and his Yoga Teacher Mentor Program. Scott is currently living in Salt Lake City after living in Southern France with his family.

Crime Pays

One of my greatest spiritual teachers in life has been my car. My ride serves me as a tangible and relatable metaphor for my body, my life, and what have been the life-changing practices of yoga and meditation. These practices are perhaps the most effective vehicles that transport me to my ultimate destination and purpose in this Universe. My car is a close second.

A shattered car window obliterated any obstruction from my seeing the complicated intersection between justice and compassion. A constellation of motorcycle accidents blessed me with life-changing gifts I would have never imagined. When my truck was literally stolen from out of my hands, the Universe was directing down a twisted road that ultimately led to understanding kindness and generosity.

Though I didn’t always understand it, in retrospect, I realize that the mishaps of my vehicle have presented me with some sort of car koan: It is only by your ride breaking down that you will arrive at your destination. Now, I see that the mechanical mayhem I’ve endured throughout much of my life is the action of a benevolent Universe trying its best to bless my life and give me a lift further down my road of spiritual evolution, even if my actual ride rests motionless on the side of a dark and lonely highway, it’s hazard lights blinking weakly into the darkness.

My ride often reminds me of a valuable teapot. When I lived in Korea, once, a monk gave me a box of expensive tea while reciting the inscription on the box, “Zen and the taste of tea is the same.” At tea houses, the teapots with the most pronounced veins, cracks stained by their decades of use, were deemed the ones with the most spirit. Like those valuable teapots, I am beginning to understand that the derelict nature of my vehicle often demonstrated a spirit much beyond what I could perceive in the moment.

This is one of those stories …

There was a time in my yoga career when I was teaching as many yoga classes as possible in order to make ends meet, sometimes as many as 27 classes a week. I loved teaching but I just hadn’t learned yet how to make it fincancially sustainable yet.

Around 2006, I had just picked up a new yoga teaching gig at the new Soma Yoga studio, the one on 1700 South in Salt Lake City, Utah, if you know it. One day, I showed up early to class, parked my car in the lot outside of the studio, and thought that I’d go on a walk for a few minutes before class to clear my mind and grease the wheels a little bit before being “on” in front of a yoga class.

In those days, I didn’t own a lot of pockets; my wardrobe consisted mainly of yoga clothes. Instead, I’d sling a bag over my shoulder as I drove from yoga gig to yoga gig. If you are someone who also rolls with a purse, particularly a big one, then you might relate with the completely absurd accumulation that can happen with such a satchel. You start off with only your keys and wallet in there and before you know it, you find yourself lugging around 27 pounds worth of pens, punch cards, and half-eaten bagels.

So, before heading out on my walk, to save my shoulder from lugging the metric ton of detritus I had accumulated in my bag, stupidly, I threw my bag under the seat of my car before closing and locking the door, keeping only my keys. My bag was out of sight for sure but had a significant proportion of my essential yet meager possessions including, my ID, debit and credit cards, check book, $42 in cash, and my brand new iPod, the ones that looked like a small pack of gum, remember those? Classic!

I’d only been walking for a few minutes when I decided that on second thought, I’d better just go to the studio and set up early. Maybe I’d run though some poses to warm up. As I arrived back to the parking lot, I was walking toward my car to grab my bag and looking through the glass of my driver-side window, I noticed with some curiosity that the window on the passenger side was remarkably cleaner than that of the driver’s side window. Was someone washing windows in the parking lot? “They did a thorough job,” I told myself, “the window looks so clean that it almost looks like there isn’t a window … wait a minute?!”

The spray of broken glass on the asphalt near the passenger door confirmed my fears. Someone must have seen me throw my bag in the car, walk around the corner then, in the 3 or 4 minutes that I’d been walking, smashed my window and stole my bag. My 42 dollars! It was probably more than I had in my bank account at the time. My iPod! I stood by my car feeling equal parts violated, angry, and stupid.

Without any time to process this shock, my students began arriving at the studio. Soon, the studio was filled with eager yogis, waiting for me to teach. I had no choice but to surrender my emotions. I sat on my mat in the front of the classroom full of students, closed my eyes, and placed my still-shaking hands at my heart before chanting three long OOOhhmmmms. Into my head, came the Leonard Cohen lyrics, “There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” I wondered what light could penetrate that dark feeling in my heart.

But I had to teach a class. And strangely, instead of being distracted by the shock of someone breaking into my car, this real-life experience was a splash of cold water in the face to wake me up and become extremely present. Raw and with all pretense stripped away, I proceeded to teach one of the best classes I can remember ever having taught.

After class, I filed a police report and borrowed the $145 I would need to fix my window.

Several weeks later I was surprised and exhilarated to receive a call from a detective investigating my case. He told me that they had found the guy who broke my window and stole my bag. I hoped that the detective would then announce with an air of sweeping heroism that they had opened a case, their best and brightest had worked tirelessly to solve the mystery, and by the fruits of much hard work, my property would be returned to me, that justice had prevailed. But he did not.

Online Yoga Nidra Training

Instead, he spent 15 long minutes trying fruitlessly to explain how the guy who had broken into my car and stolen all my stuff (known henceforth referred to as “the perp”) had tried to use my checks and ID to operate some complicated check scheme worth much more than my $42 and iPod, that “the perp” was recognized by security cameras at the bank or something, and that essentially they drove to his house and arrested him without much drama, bla bla bla. I wasn’t following the bravado of the detective’s drawn-out overly-complicated caper about check fraud. Boring. And frankly, I didn’t care if it didn’t involve getting my 42 bucks and iPod outta hock. What I did glean from the story is that they had caught “the perp,” that he was in custody awaiting a trial or sentencing or something, and that I was invited to attend the hearing if I wanted. If I couldn’t get my iPod back, at least I’d be morbidly gratified to see the punk who’d stolen it.

On the court date, I drove to the courthouse, parked and locked my car (window intact), and this time shouldered my bag, new and uncharacteristically free of the usual “memorabilia.” Once inside the courthouse, through the security portal, and out of view of the scrutinizing security guards who wondered with their inquisitive eyes why I wore a purse, I walked the maze of marble hallways and found the courtroom assigned to this hearing. I picked a seat in the back and sat down feeling nervous, like somehow I was the one who was on trial. I looked around and there were a LOT of people in that room. It was clear than many of the people crammed into that room were there to see what might happen to their loved ones who were in custody.

I had never been to a hearing. I was expecting smart, snappy lawyers in expensive suits examining and cross-examining witnesses, shouting intermittently, “I object, your honor!” before bringing some crucial piece of evidence to slay the jury’s prejudice and right the scales of justice. But it wasn’t like that at all. No, instead, I’d describe this as a public viewing of a meeting between two lawyers and a judge as they hammered out their schedule for the next 3 months. The many people in the room made it hot, oppressive, and claustrophobic. I felt more as if I was at someone else’s family reunion being hosted at the DMV than sitting in the hallowed halls of justice I’d seen in movies and TV.

After maybe an hour or so, they finally announced the case for “the perp” and into the courtroom strolls a scrappy kid, early twenties, spiky haircut, and cocky despite the manacles and prison-chic jumper he was wearing. A tired-looking judge stared over his glasses at a thick file while shuffling papers and began mumbling dates interspersed between unintelligible “legalese” to a pair of lawyers who were alert but far from agitated regarding either the conviction or releasing of “the perp.” I’ve had more lively conversations with my wife about what kind of apples to buy at the grocery store than this trio had about the situation at hand. But from what I could discern, in just a few minutes, they’d decided that something else needed to happen at some other time so this really was just a meeting to schedule another meeting several weeks later. And just like that, it was over. Those involved shuffled out the door to make way for the dozen or so other people there to schedule or reschedule other events. I left as well, somewhat deflated by the lack of resolution of my case but firmly resolved NOT to attend anymore of this dramaless drama. I wasn’t getting my stuff back and I didn’t need to add insult to injury by attending long, drawn-out scheduling meetings. Getting emotionally involved in this situation felt like a prison sentence in itself. So I let it go.

On the way out the door, I was surprised to bump into Brenda, one of my regular students at my Intro To Yoga class I was teaching on Wednesday nights a different nearby yoga studio. “Hi, Brenda! What are you doing here?” “Oh, I’m a defense attorney. This is work. What are YOU doing here?” she asked with a skeptical curiosity. I relayed my brief non-drama about the hearing. She told me how much she enjoyed coming to yoga but found it difficult to get out of work early enough to make it to class. I asked her if she thought that perhaps she and other colleagues at her work would be interested in some in-house yoga, either on their lunch break or after work. She positively lit up at the idea and said that she would ask around to see if anybody else would be game.

A few weeks later, I began weekly after-work yoga classes for Brenda and her colleagues in the law library of their offices, a hushed space dampened with old, plush carpet and lined ceiling to floor with limitless rows of stately volumes of law books. Once a week, we would roll out our mats, turn off the fluorescents, and align our movement with our breath as I helped them unwind from their day of defending people like “the perp.” They helped me to realize that many of their defendants are innocent and many who aren’t innocent are often unfairly sentenced because of the system’s prejudice toward the prosecution. Either way, they reminded me that everyone is entitled to have someone smart in their corner who speaks dates and legalese.

I soon discovered that despite the unmitigatedly dull hearing I had attended, being a defense attorney was a much more stressful job than I had imagined. These attorneys needed some way to breathe a sigh of relief and let go of some of the unseen tension they gained in and out of the courtroom. During one yoga class, one of the defense attorneys broke out of a warrior pose and began pacing around her mat, radiating anger like heat waves off a barbecue. I asked her if she was ok and she told me with a forced calm that she was working through some intense anger about a case she was involved in, that someone’s life was literally held in the balance.

Those classes after work with the Legal Defenders gave us all a way to find balance in our lives and we grew close in the process. Though I’d see them only once a week, sometimes more if they also attended classes at the yoga studio, over the years we became true friends. On numerous occasions I was invited to Legal Defender staff parties and I met their kids, spouses, and bosses. They met my family as well and supported and witnessed me during many ups and downs in my life and career. Together we were engaged in the practice of life.

I loved teaching the Legal Defenders and taught that class for many, many years. Eventually, I moved out of town and I had to hand the gig off to a fellow and trusted teacher who continues to teach this class today which is now in its 14th or 15th year!

Not long ago, having moved back to Salt Lake City, I had the opportunity to sub my old class with the Legal Defenders. Since I had left town, the Legal Defenders had moved buildings. Instead of the muted and quiet carpet of the law library, now we unrolled our mats over the modern natural-fiber jute rugs in the hip, custom-built lounge area complete with an espresso bar, ping pong table, and swinging chairs that hang from the ceiling. The Legal Defenders are still the low person on the legal totem pole, but at least now they are consoled with a decent espresso. Many of the original students continue to attend the class after all these years and upon my return we celebrated a happy reunion and reminisced about the many things that have happened over the years since we began this class: marriages, divorces, retirements, kids, and adoptions.

After leading the class through some movement to release stress and loosen up tight muscles, I directed the students into an extra-long savasana. I learned years ago that they desperately needed it. As I was sitting quietly in meditation, I found myself thinking about the string of events that had led me to be where I was at that moment.

I thought, “Thank you, ‘the perp,’ you have given me a lot. You afforded me a unique true-crime, insider’s-view of our legal system (sometimes boring AF), you’ve facilitated an enduring and enjoyable gig for me, and most importantly, you paved the way toward the richness of several friendships that have endured 15 years and counting.”

Then, as I sat in meditation, I performed a rough calculation of the amount of money that I had personally earned over the years from this after-work yoga class and it totaled well over $25,000. More than enough to replace a passenger-side window … and buy a new iPod.

Everyday Mindfulness: A Guide To A Life Well-Lived

I was sent a book called Everyday Mindfulness: 108 Simple Practices To Empower Yourself And Transform Your Life and asked to review it. I found this book to be a breath of fresh air! 

Melissa’s approach to creating a every-day practice for 108 days is both simple as well as profound. Each day is a separate mindfulness practice with three headings: Purpose, Practice, and Reflection. It serves as a basic guide to establish a simple but regular practice of seeing experiencing your life with greater clarity and purpose. 

She’s broken the practices up into six different categories to practice mindfulness in a variety of ways so that we can truly begin to see lasting changes in our lives on all fronts. For example, there’s a way to practice eating mindfully, drinking enough water, and even creating a “Home Spa.” The book is helpful because it gives you a format to do some of those things that you know you’d like to be doing for yourself anyway. 

I like it too because it supports the notion that mindfulness isn’t just about meditating, but that it’s about living a more full life, like the like you know you always want to live and could live if you only had the focus to do so. 

I appreciate her warm and concise writing for its clarity impact. This is a great book of mindfulness both for the novice and the expert practitioner to help them move into a life well-lived.

I enjoy this book and would highly recommend it to anyone interested in a more mindful approach to life. 

---

THE BEST ONLINE YOGA NIDRA TRAINING

How To Live Your Life at 11!

Here’s an article that I just published in Conscious Life News. Take a look …

---

I'm always talking about the balance between effort and ease in a yoga class. Understanding the balance between over and under exerting yourself is the secret to going the distance in your yoga asana. Likewise, it's a lesson that we can apply to our every-day life. 

When exerting or stretching, I always encourage students to do so at a level 7 of 10, or less. I invite them to find that place I qualify as "comfortably intense." It's counterintuitive but doing so will help them arrive much quicker, effectively, and safely to where they are attempting to arrive than just trying to effort their way to get there.

In a society that values productivity over almost anything else we confound doing more with getting more. Such is not always the case in practices like yoga. What's really happening behind the scenes is that we are working  just enough but not too much in order to place ourselves into the current of Prana, or life-force energy, that will take us much further down the path of where we are trying to go than forcing the path our way there.

Prana is a river of energy that is flowing within us and around us. Think of it like an actual river with the current traveling fastest in the center of the river and moving languidly on either bank of the river. One bank of the river represents effort and the other represents ease. If your goal is to move down-river and your efforts to swim only move you horizontally across the river, that is to say either toward one bank or the other, your job therefore is to swim just hard enough to get into the current but not so hard that you swim past the strongest part. When you find the balance between effort and ease, you'll find it relatively easy to stay into the current of energy and you'll find yourself quite literally in a flow state. 

This principle is applied on a physical level in our yoga asana classes but can also be applied to other parts of our lives, in body mind and spirit.  In our meditation practice, we can suffer from either too much or too little effort. In our spiritual practices we can suffer from too much or not enough effort.

Ganesha, the elephant-headed god, is a great reminder for this balance. His entire being is one of non-duality as he is half animal and half human, one long tusk and one short tusk, a large fellow who rides around on a tiny mouse. Often depicted in a Ganesha statue is a plate of cookies he is carrying with him. His ample belly shows that he's not a stranger to his plate of goodies. What he is saying by this is that no matter how serious you are about your practices in body, mind, and spirit, it's important that you always find enjoyment in them. Feed your soul in the process and allow your soul to get fat. 

Tantra is a school of thought that focuses on our growth. In fact, Tantra means to stretch into your greatest being as effectively as possible. I know what you might be thinking. Often, the word Tantra conjures of esoteric  " coupled yoga poses" that are reserved for the bedroom, or for some of you, any room in the house, as long as the kids aren't home. And while finding balance in your love life is a part of Tantra, the school of thought is much richer than just that. Tantra is to move beyond the realm of the ordinary to understand and embrace your full potential, in every area of your life, a potential which is probably much vaster than you think. The driver for Tantra, that is to say the way that we can optimize every part of our life, is Prana. Getting into the flow of Prana is the secret gateway to make every aspect of our lives (even "esoteric coupled yoga poses") thrive. Again the two things that most often prevent us from getting into that flow of Prana is either under effort or over effort. 

Here's the big reveal: by operating at a level 7 or less of effort in our lives, we find that our lives thrive at a level 11! Get more by finding the balance between effort and ease. 

This week, I encourage you live your life at a level 11 by exploring all the ways in which you might be able to find greater balance, including your job, play, exercise, your diet, your relationships. . . EVERYTHING. Let go of the doing more to get more attitude and instead try finding balance to get into the flow. In the flow, there's no limits to where you might arrive. 

I invite you to practice living FULL-OUT! DON'T MAKE ME GO ALL-CAPS ON YOUR ASS! Do it! And watch how by so doing, you'll see how those around you start to step up as well.     

---

Online Yoga Nidra Training

Heart In The Dark

Search Other Posts

Live Yoga Nidra Training

Before we get into the story and speaking of getting to the heart of things, in about a week, I’ll be hosting my live, online Yoga Nidra immersion and teacher training by Zoom.

I’m really, really looking forward to it. I’ve got a few spots left, and would love to have you join. I’ve split it up into two weekends. The first is an immersion, designed for those interested in the transformative power of Yoga Nidra, a deep dive into this fascinating realm which quite simply is a practice that helps you wake up to realize your greatest potential and become the person you were destined to be.

Ultimately, this is an inquiry into your very nature of being to discover how beautiful and wondrous your life can be, and how much this yoga of sleep can benefit your stress, sleep, and perspective on the world and its problems. The next weekend is designed for those who might be interested in teaching Yoga Nidra and/or just really geek out on this fascinating subject. I want to show you how to facilitate lasting transformative for yourself and others through relaxing Yoga Nidra practices. I’m really proud of the robust curriculum I’ve developed and would love to have you join me.

Onto the story …

Running Into Darkness

Several years ago, some friends and I were spending an afternoon along the shores of the paradoxical desert of Great Salt Lake, the large and salinated lake that gives Salt Lake City its namesake.

If you’ve never been there, it’s a fascinating place, definitely worth the trip. Great Salt Lake exists now as the dregs of a 30,000-year-old ancient lake called Lake Bonneville which once spanned what is now half of northern Utah and eastern Nevada, a once-great lake held in a massive geological bowl known as the Great Basin. Everything’s “Great” in Utah! Even as a puddle of its former self, Great Salt Lake currently stands as the largest saltwater lake in the western hemisphere.

The salinity of the water is a whopping 27%, compared to 3.5% of typical ocean water, depending on the ocean. Day-travelers of the 1920s would flock by the train-load to the briny resorts of Great Salt Lake to float in, and almost walk on (faith depending), the uncommonly salinated waters. After a long day of floating, they’d rinse off to dance the night away doing the Lindy Hop and the Jitterbug in the desert days of prohibition and under the censoring eyes of Mormon church authorities.

The previous 30,000 years notwithstanding, in only the last century, the lake has receded considerably short-sighted legislation which amounts to nothing short of greed, stealing from the water inlets today so that there’s not lake tomorrow. Today, the landscape of Great Salt Lake would be utterly unrecognizable to our liquorless, Lindy Hopping great grandparents but more on that another time …

The receding lake has revealed its phenomenally flat and briny lake bottom which today attracts a new generation of tourists, not to its buoyant waters but to the lack thereof. Now, flocks of tourists come to what’s called the “Bonneville Salt Flats” to get high off a different natural resource: speed. The “Salt Flats,” (what happened to the ubiquitous “Great”?) is a several-mile-long, flat but grippy, salt-crusted terrain which acts as the perfect runway for thrill-seeking speed merchants striving to set new land speed records, the fastest being over 760 mph.

Even without the presence of an occasional rocket-propelled car, the shores of the Great Salt Lake offers a surreal landscape, even for the more pedestrian visitors: a flat, vast playa of endless white sand, crusted with salt which scintillates in the afternoon sun. To walk on this alien terrain is a sensational feast for bare feet.

On this day that my friends and I visited the wide, flat shores of Great Salt Lake, we were walking barefoot along barren brine and decided to conduct our own kind of race. We felt drunk with space and our feet yearned to explore every inch of this sand, flat and unspoiled in every direction. Each person agreed to close their eyes and run, completely blind and at full speed, in any direction for exactly 100 paces before opening their eyes. Eager for simple adventure, we closed our eyes and held our breath as someone shouted, "GO!"

Eyes closed, my legs began to sprint, bolting into the darkness of the afternoon sun. I noticed that with my primary sense muted, my other senses bloomed. A pungent potpourri filled my nostrils, one of sulfurous mud, dry salt, and miles of decaying brine shrimp. The salty air lit on my tongue, drying my mouth, and burning my lungs as they groped for breath between staccatos of unfettered laughter. My arms and legs scissored in orchestrated opposition as every muscle contracted to blast my body forward through raw space. With each step, the salty crust of the sand briefly pricked my naked soles before crumbling into a carpet of soft velvet. For several paces, my ears traced a steady decrescendo of my fellow racers’ feet, breath, and laughter dwindling into the quiet distance. Soon, I was running alone in the darkness.

Once alone, I was surprised to feel a primal and powerful fear kick in, the one that said in not so many words, “You’ll get hurt if you stray from the tribe into the unknown.” A sliver of worry lodged itself into my brain. “Didn’t you see some ominous-looking spikes sticking out of the sand somewhere in the direction that you’re running?” Horrific and gruesome images of running teeth-first into a post or impaling my bare feet on a sharp stick did wonders to dampen my sensory smorgasbord and all my attention now clutched the worry of what might happen to me as I ran blindly.

Steeling my nerves, I did my best to push these images from my mind, locking my eyes shut and quickening my pace. Suddenly, a spontaneous laugh burst from my chest, some automatic expression of wonder and worry.

. . . 53, 54, 55 . . .

My paces were whizzing by but with each step I couldn’t shake the fear of stepping blindly onto something dangerous. Worry had now evolved into genuine fear. “This is stupid,” I told myself, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

. . . 71, 72, 73 . . .

New and more graphic images of dangers began infecting my mind, reaching for some emergency brake in my nervous system.

. . . 83, 84, 85 . . .

By now, panic had spiked. I felt the same as if I were running blind and headlong at full speed toward a cliff.

Only fifteen paces to go. Raw animal instinct clawed at my eyes to open, yet an iron resolve welded them shut. In one last burst of flying into the unknown, I let out all the stops. I pushed the throttle of my legs as fast they would go and sprinted madly forward into the darkness. Laughing was now replaced with a raw, full-throated scream, equal parts exhilaration and naked terror.

… 98, 99, 100!

On exactly my 100th step, my legs froze in space, refusing to take another step as my body wobbled to maintain equilibrium on the now unfamiliar feeling of solid ground. As I stood there panting, I slowly opened up my eyes and looked down to examine my feet to see them completely unmarred except for a generous coating of salt and mud. I stood there for a moment, feeling immense gratitude for these selfless feet, willingly thrusting me through unknown space as I ran through the darkness toward fear. After a moment, my gaze lifted to search for those ominous spikes that haunted my run. Nothing. Only flat, salty sand for miles. Of course. The misperception of my mind only invented the images.

What a rush! Who needs a rocket-propelled car?

This story reminds me of an important yogic concept called the Kleshas as explained in the Yoga Sutras, an ancient book of great wisdom. The Kleshas explore the relationship between perceptions and actions. Our misperceptions are called Avidya, a Sanskrit term literally meaning misperception. Unsurprisingly, one of the most common ways of misperceiving is Dvesa, misperception due to fear. Our misperceptions often cause us to react from fear, and in my case to completely invent beliefs, invariably causing suffering for ourselves and others. If we can avoid misperceptions and learn to see with true sight, we can respond to the vicissitudes of life with compassionate responsiveness instead of fearful reactivity.

On my blind run, I knew that there were no obstacles in my path yet my brain invented them based on past experiences causing me to run with fear. And while it was all fun and games that day on the shores of The Great Salt Lake, we tend to run through life with considerably less abandon, our misperception causing fears to push on the brakes of our higher selves and limit our strides toward what our destiny calls us to do and be.

But how does one learn to see correctly? Ironically, perhaps we can only see correctly when we attune our perception with something infinitely more refined than our eyes, a fine-tuned instrument designed to perceive truth. In The Little Prince, a modern book of great wisdom, this one masquerading as a children’s novella, one of the characters, the wise fox, shares his secret with the Little Prince when he says, “One only sees rightly with the heart. The essential is invisible to the eyes.” Until we wake up from the misperception of fear and learn to truly see with the heart, we are destined to suffer as well as cause suffering toward others.

When we do learn to see with the heart, it will likely reinvent our entire concept of the world, or at least our relationship to it. At that moment you’ll be born into the The Great Truth (another “Great”), that everything in the Universe is boiled down to one single element: love. It’s what poetry and pop songs have been telling us forever. Funny how perhaps THE most important eternal truth can sound like a platitude plastered on a meaningless Hallmark card. Nonetheless, it’s Truth with a capital T, but one that must be experienced and practiced over a lifetime and not merely repeated mindlessly as you mouth the words to your favorite Beatles song, elbow cocked out the window, cruising down the 405.

The English title of one of my all-time favorite movies is a beautiful, life-affirming film called Wings of Desire, a German film by Wim Wenders. If you haven't seen it, find it and watch it immediately, but bring a glass of milk to wash it down cuz it's richer than an entire Black Forest Cake.

In the film, an angel named Damiel, played by Bruno Ganz, lives a black-and-white existence, one of only knowing and observing but categorically void of the spectrum of the human experience, notably of doing, feeling, and loving. As an angel, Damiel feels a bitter longing, for though he can read people’s minds (he likes to hang out with his angel friends in the library to hear the thoughts of readers), his attempt to do anything other than observe others, to help or comfort, falls pitifully short, a tragic truth illustrated in a heart-breaking scene where Damiel is sitting next to a suicidal man on the high ledge of a building, hearing his desperate thoughts, but can do nothing to stop the man from jumping to his death.

Besides helping people, Damiel also yearns for the human experience of love. Damiel falls for a woman, a trapeze artist, ironically wearing false angel wings as part of her act, and resolves to cash in his actual angle wings in order to live one life—fully-human, sentient, and loving—rather than suffer an eternity of the drab, albeit safe, existence of an angel.

The price to enter a human life is his angelic armor, his protection from the inevitable pain and heartache endemic to the human experience. The cinematic effect is perfect because as he becomes human, he leaves the black and white angel world and is born into an entire cosmos of colors, the full rainbow of a human existence.

Damiel is welcomed into his new human life by one of this world’s most well-known faces—pain. Gaining consciousness after his fall from angelic grace, he inspects a small gash on his head and pulling his finger from his wound, meets both blood and color for the first time. With a child-like inquisitiveness, he stops a passerby on the street and asks, “Is this red?” to which the man simply makes a wider birth so as to avoid this obviously crazy and bleeding person on the street. Indeed, someone who sees with such purity, unjaded by previous experience, would seem crazy to the vast majority of us who are locked in our tired and unconscious ways of seeing the world.

Next, Damiel has been watching mortals enjoy coffee for hundreds of years and can’t wait to drink some himself. He finds a street vendor who gives him a cup. It’s much too hot but he doesn’t know it yet and in his lust to taste this dark, aromatic elixir, he burns his tongue quite badly.

Yet, despite being greeted into his new life with the harsh hand of pain, the gash on his head and burning his tongue, instead of being disillusioned with human life, Damiel marvels at its richness and celebrates these sensations as the immutable truth of truly living.

At one point in the movie, the newly-mortal Damiel happens upon another angel-turned-mortal who, interestingly, is Peter Falk playing Peter Falk. Falk is on set in Berlin filming an episode of Columbo. Who better than a classic, salty sleuth to play out the mystery of what it means to be human? Peter Falk can recognize those who used to be angels who are now walking the earth and reminisces what it was like to be an angel but muses over the joys of life. After a brief conversation with Damiel, Peter Falk hears the call to return to the film set and as he is walking away, Damiel desperately calls after the angel-turned-TV-celeb to tell him everything there is to know about being human. Peter Falk doesn’t break stride and turning his head slightly, calls out over his shoulder, "You have to figure it out for yourself, kid. That's the fun of it!"

Sometimes, you have to shut your eyes and run full-out into the darkness of life to understand what it means to be alive.

As I’m writing this, the ominous cloud of COVID-19 has been darkening life for more than a year. It’s caused us all a lot of pain and covered the entire world with a heavy blanket of legit fear. It’s made the future ambiguous, it’s ruined plans, and worse, it has put a wedge between this world’s most valuable resource: each other. For me, it feels like we’ve been running in the darkness for a long time and I know I’m not alone when I say … I’m tired.

Global pandemic aside, doesn’t it feel so often that life is really one long journey into the darkness? Who knows what lurks over the next horizon or hell, even into next week? Yet, can we learn to see this ambiguity as something to celebrate if only to serve us to remember that we are alive? Even in our fears and failings and dying there can simultaneously exist wonder and beauty. Poet David Ignatow points to this paradox when he says, in his an excerpt from his poem, THREE IN TRANSITION (FOR WCW),

I wish I understood the beauty

in leaves falling. To whom

are we beautiful

as we go?

His poem points to the fact that even in our failing, in our most difficult times, there is a part of the Universe that finds us astonishing in that going. Having lost my mother to cancer days after Thanksgiving in 2020, during an already crushing year blighted with COVID-19, I saw first-hand how something so tragic as my mother passing bestowed a beauty to life. My mom’s death illuminated something Universal within the entire family, even and especially in my mom. Somehow she lives and spends her nights visiting me in my dreams. My mom’s death points to life. To whom are we beautiful as we go? Or to what?

Yoga and meditation are simple practices that point us inward to discover and remember that portion of the Universal that exists inside of us. Being familiar with the Universal part within us is in part what it means to see with your heart. Having heart-vision grants us the capacity to see a magnificence to the most difficult of circumstances, the beauty of a textured and well-lived life.

The late, great Leonard Cohen said, “Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.”

Also, with this sure knowledge of the heart, we are less persuaded by Dvesa's power of misperception due fear. Another tired but nonetheless true statement is that love conquers fear. Perhaps this, too, is only something we can learn by closing our eyes as we lean into the darkness and learn to trust our most reliable sense. And from this courageous place, we will face what fears remain with presence and boldness. The Latin word for heart is Cor. To be courageous doesn’t mean an absence of fear, but to be full of heart.

As we run through the dark path of life’s journey, we will undoubtedly encounter fears.

May we learn to be courageous, seeing the world and the people in it rightly, as Universal elements of love. May our practices of yoga, meditation, and love wake us up to the Universal within all of us. And while we may not know exactly when this darkness will end, may we run through this uncertainty screaming, laughing, and loving, knowing that at very the least we are alive.

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,

and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,

and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

~Wendell Berry.

Instant Calm With This Free Beach Paradise Visualization

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name *

Quiet The Mind

The Yoga Sutras by Patanjali is a collection of Sanskrit verses, compiled sometime between 500 BCE and 400 CE and directs someone toward how they might achieve the ultimate state of yoga called Samadhi, or Oneness with all things. The Yoga Sutras can get pretty esoteric but they start off quite straight forward by explaining very succinctly what yoga is. It says in the second verse, "Yoga chitta vrtti nirodhah," meaning Yoga is the cessation of fluctuations of the mind.Yoga Sutra 1:2. In other words, by learning to quiet the mind, you enter into the state of Samadhi.

Yoga Is More Than Poses

Often times when we think of yoga, we think of asana, or yoga postures. However, the postures are simply another tool to help practice achieving the real purpose for yoga which is to calm the mind and gain Awareness. Certainly, there are many benefits to an asana practice including health, reduction of stress, sleeping better, etc., but it should be stated that these are the fantastic byproducts of calming the mind. Whether by practicing asana, meditation, or pranayama (breath work), we are truly practicing calming the fluctuations of the mind to enter into the space of clear seeing and Awareness.

The Yoga of Good Work

Nowhere in the Yoga Sutras does it mention that a practitioner can only achieve this state of calming the mind while on a yoga mat, in the studio, or doing yoga poses. Therefore, anything that helps us to practice find focus, develop Awareness, and concentration could be considered a yoga practice. We can apply this notion of focus and concentration for any kind of work we might do and any work we might do could prepare us to arrive at Samadhi. You can see a person who enters into that state of Oneness when they lose themselves in a performance, dance, or any other work that transcends a person.

Getting quiet and drawing in to stillness is necessary for any good work to happen. It's this quietness, this stillness, that allows the busy waters of our mind and emotions to settle enough for us to see what's down in the depths our being.

When we can enter this state of Oneness, even momentarily, our work becomes effortless because we are no longer attempting to do the thing, we become the thing. Work on this level, be that our job, parenting, our passions or whatever, generates from this deep relationship with our true being. Our work, therefore is simply an extension of our deeper selves, the Self that knows everything.

Our work, our medium is, as one good friend says, the loudspeaker of the soul.

Here are a few simple practice that you might try before any work, be that yoga practice, contract law, or parenting, to practice calming the waters of the mind.

Practices that Quiet The Mind

Yoga Nidra

Yoga Nidra is by far and away one of the most effective and most relaxing ways of changing your state of consciousness, one that helps you uplevel your stage of consciousness and then… yes— change the world. Nidra is a Sanskrit word meaning sleep, and Yoga Nidra is often called “the yoga of sleep” because it is a form of guided meditation that uses relaxation and a system of organized and layered awareness to take you through a journey into a liminal state between waking and dreaming consciousness. It is here, in this liminal state, that you discover that your mind, body, and spirit together contain a pathway that leads to the gates of perfect presence, wholeness, and Oneness.

Yoga Nidra is a potent catalyst for massive personal growth, giving you the direct tools and direction to become the person you are destined to become...the greater You who is destined to change the world.

In a beautiful paradox, the yoga of sleep is actually about waking up to the powerful being that you are. Some of the most powerful forces in the world can also be the most gentle, just like a whispering wind and the soft laps of a river which carve massive and formidable stones from canyon walls.

Yoga Nidra openes your eyes and wakes you up to the very nature of your being, that of limitless power and beauty. It opens your ears to hear the ancient wisdom of sages whispering to you that your true identity is that of Awareness itself. The gentle practice of Yoga Nidra leads you down a pathway to feel your truest essence, one of boundless equanimity, pure love, and absolute clarity. This practice helps you feel yourself existing as a resounding and Universal YES!

There Is Practice

Simply sit, close your eyes, and acknowledge what you sense, all of your senses. Without value or judgment, simply state what you are experiencing. Rather than identifying with the pronoun "I" simply say in your mind, "There is the sound of traffic, there is fatigue, there is worry, there is an incredible urge to rush to Hatch Family Chocolates and eat 40 pounds of truffles." You know, whatever thought, emotion, sensation occurs. Simply state what is. Try not to identify with it. Just watch it.

Count Your Breaths

Choose a number and count your exhales down from that number to zero. When you loose your place start back at that number. If you get to zero, start back at that or a different number. Keep you mind only on your breath. This is a deceptively difficult practice, I feel.

Mantra

Mantra means to transcend through the use of your mind. Simply find a phrase that means something to you, a scripture, a poem, some tidbit of inspiration, and repeat it in your mind. Words are powerful. You are your word.

I invite you to practice stilling the waters of your mind before doing any work to see how it leads to you fulfill your purpose of becoming one with all things.

Instant Calm With This Free Beach Paradise Visualization

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name *

The "E" Word

There is a new four-letter word, the "E" word. This word is "The Economy." Strangely, it's neither four letters long nor even one word. Regardless, hearing the phrase (brace yourself), "The Economy'' probably conjures worry and a knot in the stomach. Whether directly or indirectly, we are all being affected by what's happening with (here it is again) "The Economy."

Unfortunately, hard financial times often makes us feel like we need to circle the wagons, draw in our resources, and look out for our own interests. The scarcity of financial means sometimes leads to scarcity of good will toward each other.

But despite the fact that many of us are suffering a bit financially because of COVID-19, the loss of jobs, plans put on pause, etc, there is another form of abundance we can all cash in and rely upon. This abundant resource is each other. Us. You and me. Even with social distancing, instead of shielding ourselves from others, we can enrich ourselves and others during this tricky financial time by investing our sincere humanity, our love, compassion, trust, and laughter. We can invest in the coffers of the well-being and happiness of each other. We are each other's bail-out plan and support in the essential economics of human capital. We are a resource without a deficit and yes, one that is even more vital than dollars. We are each other's interest and one that will receive an immediate return on investment each time we share a little of love and care from our endless account of humanity. This is yoga's (read union) true meaning, the one-ness of all.

Tough financial times actually affords us an opportunity, the opportunity to draw together and build friendships and communities because sometimes that is all that is left. Community is what's essential. Community will get us through. Ask your grandparents who may have lived through the Great Depression. We can help each other out in myriad ways, even with the pandemic prevalent and vaccines still scarce.

A few ways we might help out could include :

• Telling your community of job opportunities you might be aware of.

• Declutter your space by sifting through unused stuff and both simplify your life by getting rid of anything you’re not using and offering it to those in your community who might need it. Take a look at the incredible work being done by my friend Courtney Carver and her book, Soulful Simplicity for excellent ways to be so much more by owning so much less.

• Do an online yoga or meditation practice. Your energy and spirit feeds each other. Be creative! Tough times move us toward fun creative solutions that we'd otherwise never have discovered.

I love my job. I love it because I am constantly fed by your generosity and spirit. One thing I treasure is connecting with you on a personal as well as group level. I am often allowed a sneak peak into many of your hearts and get to see first hand how yoga has affected your lives. Countless times, I have looked into your eyes as you've spoken volumes to me by the tender tears rolling down your cheeks and perhaps mixed in a few words to describe some of your unspeakable challenges. You've shared with me your immense peace and joy and your stunning moments of clarity. You've shared with me the ways in which yoga has been your lifesaver, an island, an oasis. I'm deeply honored to play a small part in your unfolding.

I’d love to connect! Let’s share some human capital by having a virtual coffee date! I’d love to hear about what’s going on in your life, how COVID-19 has affected you, and what you do to help you keep your spirits up. Wherever you are in the world, let’s connect and together we’ll invest in the account of human good will.
Also, reach out to others and stay connected with people via Zoom or phone. Social distancing doesn’t have to mean heart distancing.

email me to connect at scott@scottmooreyoga.com

Scott

Meditate Before Watching The News

Something that's helped me and might help you …

There's been a lotta news lately—A LOTTA NEWS.

So. Much. News.

I find it very helpful to meditate BEFORE reading, listening to, or watching the news. This has two purposes I can think of. First, it's likely that if you digested a bunch of news before your meditation, you'll be processing that for the duration of your sit. Secondly, if you meditate before the news, you'll be able to ground yourself mentally and emotionally so that you won't be so thrown into a tizzy by it.

While there are some very, very important issues that we need to be aware of around the world, remember that is designed to grab your attention. It's engineered to be scintillating and shocking. Yes, there are events happening around the world that need very little "dressing up" to be shocking, yet remember that you're in control of your news intake. Approach the news mindfully and then put it down and choose the ways to respond to that information with your best self, full of wisdom and compassion.

Be mindful of how much time you digesting the news. Realize that point when the news starts to digest YOU instead of the other way around. We've all turned into a news addict at one time or other. Be mindful about your intake and concentrate on those things you can do to make the world a better place.

Then, concentrate on something positive. Make a list of 3 things you're grateful for. Call someone to tell them how much you appreciate them. Don't stew in the negative headlines or the resulting emotions from them all day. I'm not suggesting that we ignore the important things going on in the world. Quite the opposite. Find those mechanisms (like meditation) that allow you ground into your best self so you can effectively respond to that information rather than simply stew in it.

Here's a radical invitation: Try meditating as long or longer than you watch, read, or listen to the news. You could likely grab all the important headlines without being thrown headlong into the drama machine which surrounds the headlines.

Try it out and let me know how it goes.

---

Wind Blowing Through The Pines Part 3

The last few days, I’ve been sharing installments of my story of going to Songgwangsa, one of the principal monasteries in Korea, living with the monks for a few days, and sitting with a monk as he laid some deep wisdom on me. It’s been almost 20 years since I sat on that meditation sanctuary with the monk and my mind and spirit have been processing that experience ever since, especially that whole bit of, “What is the price of the wind blowing through the pines.”

Today, I want to tell you about the cosmic backhand I received after nearly 20 years of mulling over and meditating upon this question. I have to start with a little bit of meta, so bare with me …

To start, I have to give you a little info about my experience with Yoga Nidra. About a year or so after my experience at the monastery, I discovered Yoga Nidra and started teaching it soon thereafter. Part of my role as a teacher of Yoga Nidra is to attempt to define what it is, how it works and why it’s so transformational. Despite the fact that I’ve studied Yoga Nidra in-depth, have led literally 10s of thousands of hours of Yoga Nidra practices, have trained hundreds of other teachers to teach it and, hell, even written a book about it, I’m still chewing on exactly what it is and how to describe it. Perhaps that’s the hallmark of being a life-long student of the subject.

I’m just getting this now, literally as I’m writing this, (I know, I know, slow learner, just ask Tog-hyon, the monk at the monastery), but I’m realizing that one of the reasons that Yoga Nidra is so hard to define is because it’s a practice that attempts to give you a relationship with the ineffable, with Source itself. That Source is Awareness. Yoga Nidra reveals something that is at once everywhere, fundamental, real, and true yet completely indiscernible to the senses and any other of the typical ways of knowing something. Yet, once you become aware of it, you’ll never see your life, and the world in the same way again. So, no wonder an easy definition is hard to nail down.

Here’s a stab at a brief description of Yoga Nidra …

Yoga is the experience of Oneness in body, mind, and spirit. Nidra is a Sanskrit word meaning sleep, and Yoga Nidra is often called “the yoga of sleep” because it is a form of guided meditation that uses relaxation and a system of organized and layered awareness to take you through a journey into a liminal state between waking and dreaming consciousness. It is here, in this liminal state, that you discover that your mind, body, and spirit together contain a pathway that leads to the gates of perfect presence, wholeness, and Oneness. The presence, wholeness, and oneness you experience in this state is Source. It’s pure Awareness. It’s the experience of yoga.

We naturally tend to identify with and define ourselves by limited and changeable qualifiers—our bodies, emotions, mind, desires, opinions, etc. But according to ancient wisdom, these are all illusions. They can’t possibly define us because they are all changeable and finite. Yoga Nidra helps to illuminate the part of you that never changes, the part of you that is everywhere. That hidden part is Awareness, pure and simple. Yoga Nidra helps to shift your entire world view to realize that all the things you can be aware OF simply reveal the fact that you are aware. The illusions reveal the truth. So, in Yoga Nidra we develop focus by paying attention to all the illusory layers like body, emotions, thoughts, etc. to reveal that what you are is the thing that is aware of all those layers.

Ok, with that out of the way here’s the important part …

Two years ago, I’m sitting at my desk in my 5th story apartment in France, working on developing my curriculum for teaching Yoga Nidra. This is the fantastic apartment we rented which was perched above the most delightful boulangerie. Each morning around 5 am we would stir in our beds a little as the irresistible scent of freshly baked croissants wafted through our windows. Anyway, it was well into the post-croissant hours of the day and I’m hammering away on my keyboard, trying to describe the process of illuminating the invisible with the visible and I came up with a metaphor of a tree blowing in the wind. By seeing the movement of the tree, you come to know the wind. Though it’s invisible, it’s only by what is visible dancing with the underlying wind that you come to know the wind. Pretty soon you don’t even see the tree anymore, you only see the wind, though it’s invisible.

And then Tog-hyon’s words burst into my brain and almost knocked me out of my chair. In my stream of consciousness, on the page I wrote, “WHAT IS THE PRICE OF THE WIND BLOWING THROUGH THE F@#*-ING PINES!!!!!” After almost 20 years, I finally got it! Not only did I understand the koan, but I realized how I had developed a relationship with Source, what is otherwise unknowable. I understood that largely through my Yoga Nidra practice, I had developed a relationship with the invisible EVERYTHING.

I reeled in astonishment with this insight. As I leaned back in my chair, taking it all in I spoke out loud, “What is the price of the wind blowing through the pines?” and without hesitation I heard myself answer the question, “EVERYTHING. The price is EVERYTHING.”

Everything because to know the underlying Source of all things means to forever give up the simple notion of any object. Nevermore will I experience this desk, these words, the intoxicating smell of fresh croissants in the morning because forevermore I will only see Source in the form of this desk, these words, and the intoxicating smell of fresh croissants. Everything I can be aware of reveals Awareness itself.

Holy shit.

Then everything else Tog-hyon said to me that day started flooding my mind with significance.

"The peace we have can only come from within. Otherwise, it will always leave us. We are doomed for sadness if we base our happiness on things that are constantly changing."

“You must doubt. You must continually ask the question, and one day you will learn.”

“A message from me isn't necessary. Instead, you must find the message within your own self and share it.”

"I love Dunkin Donuts!"

And then I wondered if Tog-hyon might also like croissants.

---

Thank you for hearing or reading this story. I’d love to hear about YOU’RE moments of clarity and illumination. Drop be a line. Share a story of your own.

If you’re interested in exploring “the wind in the trees” for yourself, you can either join me tonight for my twice-a-week Yoga Nidra class (Wednesdays 6–7:15 pm MST, Sundays 9–10:15 am MST), or please consider joining me for my live, online Yoga Nidra Immersion and Teacher Training. This will be a unique opportunity to dive deep into your True Being and to learn to share Yoga Nidra with the world.

Live, Online, and Recorded

Immersion Only, February 20–21, 2021 9 am to 5 pm MST

Immersion and Teacher Training February 20–21, 2021 9 am to 5 pm MST; February 26–28 9 am to 5 pm MST

Wake up to the person you were destined to become! This course is a beautiful, fascinating, and relaxing journey deep into Self.

Learn to teach this transformational practice using the power of your OWN voice and not as a rote version of your teacher. I’ll teach you not only how to teach Yoga Nidra but how to be a successful Yoga Nidra teacher. This training will pay for itself as you learn how to create opportunities for yourself to teach the transformational practice of Yoga Nidra all over the world.

If you have ever wanted to learn more about Yoga Nidra, now’s the time!

I believe this to be the best live and online Yoga Nidra immersion and training available.

Wind Blowing Through The Pines Part 2

Yesterday, I sent the first of three installments of a very impactful story I wanted to share with you. Today is the second installment. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Before we get into the story, I wanted to let you know that I had the privilege of being featured on the Yeah Podcast. In this episode, we talk about how I share yoga, Yoga Nidra, and mindfulness on digital platforms like Zoom. It's fun, funny, and interesting. I hope you'll listen and subscribe to this great podcast.

READ YESTERDAY’S POST FOR THE FIRST PART OF THIS STORY

Hey-am suggested we hike the half mile to visit Tog-hyon, the monk at the hermitage temple. The sun was well up by now and we hiked through the bamboo forest. We got lost but eventually found our way to the mountain dwelling. I felt as though I was walking through the peaceful folk dwelling in the movie Dreams by Akira Kurosawa. I saw that the monk living at the hermitage was completely self-contained. His plot had a well, an outdoor toilet, a private temple in a small wooden building the same size as his two-room house. I could tell by the details and obviously careful construction this was built by the monks themselves. We called out and knocked at his door but nobody was home so we decided to wait.Hey-am suggested we hike the half mile to visit Tog-hyon, the monk at the hermitage temple. The sun was well up by now and we hiked through the bamboo forest. We got lost but eventually found our way to the mountain dwelling. I felt as though I was walking through the peaceful folk dwelling in the movie Dreams by Akira Kurosawa. I saw that the monk living at the hermitage was completely self-contained. His plot had a well, an outdoor toilet, a private temple in a small wooden building the same size as his two-room house. I could tell by the details and obviously careful construction this was built by the monks themselves. Jin-soon and I sat and talked and enjoyed the morning sun.

Jin-soon and I had been sitting outside talking and enjoying the warm morning sun for about a half hour when Tog-hyon emerged from the forest. He was carrying a walking stick and wearing a Buddhist-chic patchwork vest, baggy, gray monks pants that tightened around the ankles with knots for buttons, and a large straw hat. He greeted us with a large smile and bow and before even bothering to learn our names, he invited us for tea and lunch. He spoke to me in rusty yet precise English. During tea he said that he'd learned English in law school before he became a monk, fifteen years ago.

We sat down on the floor as he prepared the tea. Eager to begin conversation, I mentioned that it was very peaceful there at his hermitage, and without my knowing it, my lessons had begun. "Why do you say that it is peaceful here?" he inquired with that sage smile of his. "I fumbled for something to say, sensing I had made a faux pas. "The peace we have can only come from within. Otherwise, it will always leave us," he asserted. "We are doomed for sadness if we base our happiness on things that are constantly changing." He stared deeply into my eyes.

Lunch was served. It was sticky rice mixed with the occasional yellow millet grain. It was two kinds of kimchi. It was assorted stringy vegetables. It was fried tofu squares. It was marinated mushrooms. It was a bowl of assorted assorted vegetables cooked with tofu. It was exquisite, even better than dinner the night before. Again I found myself chewing slowly and twirling my chopsticks in ultimate gastronomical ecstasy. Tog-hyon asked me, "Do you like Korean food?" "Um, yeah!"


Almost jokingly, I asked the monk if he liked American food. "I love Dunkin Donuts," he said matter-of-factly while simultaneously and miraculously producing a small box of powdered, jelly-filled Dunkin Donuts from a nearby cupboard. I stared in astonishment as he gave us each a donut. I may eat another Dunkin Donut in my life, but never one served on the proverbial silver platter of a zen monk in hermitage at one of the most revered monasteries in the world.

After lunch Jin-soon offered to do the dishes and I just before I jumped in to help, Tog-hyun looked me straight in the eyes and asked me if I would go on a walk with him. Whatever Tog-hyun was going to share with me, I felt bad that Jin-soon was going to miss it because of her offer to wash dishes. But it was just he and I.

Outside his little house, he began walking and met a thin, worn path. He quietly walked along the path through the serene bamboo forest. I followed on his heels. Instinctively, I began to do the museum walk, hands clasped behind my back. I do this when I don't want to disturb the priceless beauty and art around me. Again, I could feel myself having a once-in-a-lifetime moment.

We walked for a few minutes through the forest until we came to a bamboo barrier laying across the path obstructing the way. It was obviously constructed by him. There was a sign on the post written in neat Korean. He pointed to it and said, "This says, that this place is not for just anyone, but you're not just anyone," and lifted up the barrier for me to pass.

After another 10–15 minutes of walking down the mountain path, we came to a small building which overlooked a vast valley of pine trees below. The building was a meditation sanctuary, a large wooden deck covered with a curved, tiled roof. "I built this with three other monks. We had a very difficult time," he said laughing.

"Let's meditate."

He offered me the only mat on the porch and we both sat down, crossed-legged, and stared out into a vast, unspoiled mountain vista. West. Again, my meditation was deep and peaceful. My eyes were open. "What is this spirit inside me?" I thought. I became very peaceful. I stared at a lone pine tree in the distance. It was different than those surrounding it, a dark-green tree in an ocean of lightly colored spring-green trees. I felt as if somehow that tree was me.

After 20–30 minutes of meditating, Tog-hyun said, "Do you hear the wind blowing through the pines? There's an old Zen poem that says, 'What is the price of the wind blowing through the pines?'. So I ask you …" “Damn!” I thought, “Here comes another impossible question!” … "what is the price of the wind blowing through the pines?" Nervous, I rattled off some light-weight answer to the effect of, "The wind, the trees, they are part of us all—part of our soul. Our soul is priceless, it’s, um … yeah, the pines.

"You don't understand me, do you?" he asserted. "I don't understand," I cowed in agreement. "You studied English in university, and you don't understand?" kindly goading me with a warm smile that put me at ease. "Stop thinking about it,” he admonished. “You can't use theories to answer the question. You can't use language. You must doubt. You must continually ask 'the question', (who am I) and one day you will learn. It will take three days of constant meditation. Even while you are resting, your mind must be pondering the question of the price of the wind through the trees. Someday you will know. Let the blade of doubt cut through the blackness of the mind. Let's go back."

And with that, we stood up and he led us back to his house. He entered his house and this time he opened the wooden shutters to the only window in the room. It opened to the West and made me sit directly to his left, facing the window. "He's so young and makes many mistakes,” he pronounced to Jin-soon and another woman who had arrived in our absence, “but he is very spiritually minded. I can see that."

Just before entering the temple the day before, I had purchased a hand-carved bracelet which consisted of a circle of small skulls. Tog-hyun noticed it on my wrist and pointed at it asking, "What do you think that means?" Prior to buying the bracelet, Jin-soon and I discussed how the bracelet represented impermanence, how we are all a circle of beings, interwoven together, but are all impermanent here on earth. Though I feared that Tog-hyun would again use my reasoning as a latrine, I nonetheless had nothing else to say. All attention was on me. I paused for a second then repeated to him exactly what Jin-soon and I discussed. "Really? Very good!," he exclaimed.

Phew!

More tea.

It was time to go; we'd spent almost five hours with Tog-hyun. Before going, I told him that I'd be going home to family and friends in America and asked him if there was a message of wisdom that he would like to send with me that I could share with others. He told me that a message from him isn't necessary. Instead, I must find the message within my own self and share it. I guess I should have learned that lesson by then.

My new teacher again pointed at my bracelet and asked again, "What is that?" Considering my sketchy track record to his questions, and wondering why he was asking me again, this time I remained silent. I think that was the correct answer. Tog-hyun didn't probe further. He seemed content. Before leaving, Tog-hyun reached into a closet and gave me a very expensive box of tea. As he walked us to the edge of the hermitage he read the Chinese inscription on the box. "It says, 'Zen and the taste of tea is the same’." Then without a segue looked me directly in the eyes, seemed to grab by soul, and said, "Continue to doubt. Always doubt." And with that we bowed humbly to him, and left.

It was late. We hiked back to the temple grounds, stopped by the Great Hall one more time to make our final bows, grabbed our bags and took the first bus out. On the nearly 5-hour trip home, I sat quiet, staring out the window and thought about Tog-hyun's words.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the last installment of this story!

Wind Blowing Through The Pines Part 1

Photo cred

Jin-soon and I trained it to Sooncheon, in southwest Korea. From there we took an old bus (with matching driver) to Songgwangsa, one of the three principal monasteries in Korea.

They offer people the chance to stay at the monastery and live with the life of a monk for anywhere from 1–7 days. After almost five hours of traveling, we finally arrived at the temple. Jin-soon took me on a careful tour of the temple grounds, the many buildings, pagodas, and artifacts. This is Jin-soon's favorite temple in the world. I was honored when it dawned on me that she was showing me around her most sacred place.

After our self-guided tour, Jin-soon asked a large and friendly monk if we could stay the night and join the evening and morning ceremonies. He agreed without hesitation and assigned us our rooms. I shared a small, empty room with four other temple male visitors, all Korean.

It had been a long journey to get to the temple and by now we were quite hungry. The only food we brought with us was an orange and some Green World sprouted wheat crackers. We looked at the activity schedule posted outside of our rooms only to discover that we were too late for dinner. Just as our moans of disappointment tapered, to our surprise the dinner bell rang. For some reason the schedule was changed for this particular time of year.

We shuffled happily into the temple dining hall and each grabbed a simple, white bowl, chopsticks and a spoon. We filled our bowls with aromatic rice porridge, a sour and orange-colored kimchi, marinated mushrooms and assorted stringy vegetables seasoned in sesame oil. Having filled our bowls, we sat in folding chairs at a long table with the other temple visitors. Although I had become very accustomed to Korean food, there was little to choose from in the Buddhist buffet and I was nervous--if it was disgusting I may starve for the next 24 hours.

Cautiously, I tasted a small spoonful of rice porridge. It was exquisite! And with that I dove into my meal eagerly. Maybe it was because I was tired, maybe it was because I hadn't eaten all day, but I soon discovered that this was one of those meals where every bite was thoroughly and completely satisfying. I couldn't help eating slowly and deliberately. I twirled my chopsticks in the air as I chewed, unconsciously conducting the sonata of simple culinary perfection in my mouth. We ate in silence, though inside I was moaning with throes of primal pleasure.

I took my last bite and looked at Jin-soon who had been patiently waiting for me to finish my sonata. I felt a little sheepish but the content look on her face comforted me. We picked up our bowls and walked down steep concrete stairs to the kitchen to wash our dishes. Downstairs, were young monks in tight rubber aprons wrapped around their grey robes. They were contentedly and energetically sloshing dirty dinner dishes into suds and water. We washed our own dishes and utensils, bowed to the monks and mounted the stairs again. As we stepped out of the kitchen, I looked to Jin-soon and confessed, " O.K. That meal alone was worth the train and bus ride."

The meal was free along with the stay at the temple. However, they do appreciate an unspecified donation.

We were enjoying the evening sun as we walked in the court yard and talked about Zen poetry. Jin-soon showed me a mural painted on the outside of a building. It was a colorful picture of men stirring gaunt, weak "sinners" in a giant cauldron. Jin-soon told me, to my surprise, that like Christians, Buddhists believe in hell, too. It is the penitence necessary before you come back reincarnated.

As we were talking about the mural, we couldn't avoid noticing a monk who was walking in our direction. Even from a distance, it was easy to see that he was not Korean. We approached him and his thin, pale face met us with a large, toothy smile. We bowed and he began easy conversation with Jin-soon in flawless Korean. Noticing my silent, stupid smile, he switched languages and spoke in English with a smooth British accent. He could only speak with us for a moment but asked us if we would like to meet for tea after the evening ceremony. Delighted, we agreed to meet in front of the visitor's lodging building.

The sun had just ducked behind the mountain trees and painted the thin clouds a golden peach. Soon, monks emerged from all corners of the monastery and formed long lines as they quietly walked to the Great Hall. Meanwhile, a small corps of monks, perched in a large open tower, evoked the end of day by beating on the one end an enormous Dragon drum. As they pounded complex rhythms on the drum, their loose grey robes furled like a flag as their arms blurred around the gigantic drum.

The monks finished their final cadence on the drum, and switched to ringing the bell, a 10 foot tall, 15 ton, ornate bronze cup turned upside down and held by the mouth of a dragon. One monk pulled a large log suspended on both ends by two thick chains and swung it a few times to the side of the bell to gain momentum. Then with all his strength, he swung back the log and threw it against the bell, blasting out a loud, long gong that sang for a full ten seconds before it began a slow diminuendo and rested as a low hum. After thirty seconds or so, the monk wielding the log had built up enough momentum for another strike and with the bell still humming, he rang it again sending another blast echoing off the temple buildings and into the surrounding mountain air.

Jin-soon and I followed the last monks into the Great Hall, where we were each issued a long, well-used prayer mat, and laid them in the only open space on the rough, wooden floor. We bowed three times toward the Buddha and remained kneeling in silence, our hands in prayer. A singular monk began to chant a low and lonely melody. Outside, I heard a humble stream that bubbled and churned, adding a playful descant on top of the monks textured riff. Then, as my mind was fully absorbed by the delicate counterpoint between the stream and the monk, to my surprise, 150 monks suddenly and simultaneously burst into a loud and deep refrain. Without thinking, I found myself singing along. My voice was drowned in the sea of monks and I could barely hear my own sound, but I could feel my chest and throat vibrate. It felt like strumming an acoustic guitar against my chest and feeling it resonate. I couldn't follow the words to the chant so I sang my own words. My own prayer: "Thank you. . . thank you for my family and friends who bless my life immeasurably . . .thank you for making my life holy."

Outside, thirty meters away, the bell tolled again and I could feel the hum vibrate through the wood floor (suspended from the ground by poles). It vibrated my legs the way my chest and throat were vibrating. Om.

As the monks sang, I closed my eyes and heard fifths, minor thirds, sevenths, bended notes, half tones, natural harmonics. It was hearing the ancient asian pentatonic, modal scale, music before it was influenced by the west. As I listened to the monks, I heard black slaves in work fields. I heard the blues. I heard soul. Later, Jin-soon told me that the chanting temple is called Han, meaning melancholy or blue.

Following the evening service, we met with the English monk, Hey-am (meaning ocean eye) who invited us to a small room, his master's personal chamber, where we sat on the floor and drank tea from a delicate Korean tea set. Hey-am was serious and spoke with Jin-soon most of the hour and a half we spent with him. He spoke most of the time and he spoke most of the time in Korean. He talked about touching the soul through meditation.

The clock struck the ripe hour of nine o' clock and we were off to bed. Before both feet had even touched the floor, I could feel, true to form, that this Korean room was much, much too hot for peaceful sleeping. My mind raced as I worried about spontaneous combustion. My spontaneous combustion. The other four men sharing the room had kindly lain out a spot for me. I took my place and the lights went off.

The snoring began two minutes later. The old man on my right was a beach cave— deafening echoes of the deluge rushing in and out with every breath. It had only been 10 minutes and the heat had already covered me in a thin layer of hot sweat. I turned onto my other side only to encounter a classical hisser-and-sucker, not a lot of nasal reverberations like Cave, just really loud air passing between his teeth with every inhale and exhale. I thought, "If only I had some balloons, an air mattress, or maybe a trumpet, I could have put him to some use."

Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night. I rested though, and all night I thought of snoring metaphors.

So at 3:00 am (yes, 3:00 … I pause for effect … AM) when the monks came around clicking their wooden fish bells, rousing us for the morning ceremony, I was more than eager to leave the sweaty, hissing, beach cave. I didn't realize that I'd actually have the chance to experience Buddhist hell. "Wow, they really give you the full experience, here." I grabbed my sweatshirt, put in my contacts and left.

I breathed in the cool, early morning air. The same monks were again perched in the tower taking turns waking up the earth, people, fishes, and birds by drumming on various drums and bells. We followed the monks inside the Great Hall and began a ceremony very similar to the one we experienced the night before. But this time, it was dark outside. I looked through the door and in the distance, I could see the, black silhouette of a monk in a separate temple as perfect as if someone had drawn his outline in the window.

In Zen Buddhism there are 108 different forms of suffering. Therefore, to pray for those who suffer, one offers to Buddha the submission of 108 bows. This is accomplished by kneeling to the ground from a standing position, crossing the left foot over the right, butt close to the ankles, hands close to the face, palms down, and lowering the forehead to the mat at which point one turns the hand palms up, lifting them a few inches off the ground, returning the palms face down on the mat, then with the hands together in prayer, standing up to a full standing position … 108 times.

In a row.

Without stopping.

I wonder if intense quadriceps pain is listed uniquely among the 108 as one of the forms of suffering. Truth be told, I lost count after about two bows and actually just felt the pain and submitted to a spirit of sacrifice and offering. I felt very moved. More bows, 500, 1000 and sometimes even as much as 3000 bows, might accompany some ceremonies.

Having bowed, chanted, and sung, I was feeling quite lucid. Everyone filed out of the Great Hall except Jin-soon and I who took our mats to the center of the hall and began to meditate in the morning silence. The monks closed the doors and turned off all but one or two small lights illuminating the giant Buddhas in the center of the shrine. I closed my eyes and began to search inside myself, to meditate. I wanted to experience, to some small degree, the seemingly elusive Zen that Hey-am had talked about. I went deeper and deeper into my core, into my ha dan jun, into that white space, that part of me that never ages, but still feels pain, sometimes. I peeled away layers of emotion and intellect and tried to feel whatever it is inside. My spirit. I released my worries, my ego, my sarcasm, my habits, my intellect, my opinions and just was. I was just present to the second I was resting in and aware of what I was doing. Each second was an hour. I noticed how my body felt. I concentrated on the peace inside me. It felt good. I became more focused. Honed. I was experiencing the meditation that I have been cultivating during almost six months of Kouk Son Do practice, meditation which was coming to a small fruition at that moment. And I went deeper. I prayed.

Eventually we got up and stacked our mats neatly stacked beside the door and left. We walked to the kitchen and asked the monks if we could help prepare food for breakfast. Happy for our service, the monks immediately put us to work separating a large plastic vat of mushrooms, ginger, and sea vegetables. Then with large kitchen scissors, we removed the stems from rubbery mushrooms. As I sat snipping the stems off mushrooms, I listened to the kitchen monks chant as they sweated and stirred black cauldrons of boiling rice. I got that lucky feeling I do when I'm experiencing a once-in-a-lifetime moment.

We finished our kitchen help and still had an hour before the 7:00 am breakfast bell rang, so we headed up into the mountains to do some Kouk Son Do. The pre-sun morning sky was grey like the monks robes. They say that the grey represents all of the colors mixed into one.

Breakfast. I recognized some of my mushrooms. It was a beautiful sequel to dinner the night before.

After breakfast, we met Hey-am again for more tea. This time, he was speaking to me. As he poured me another cup of tea, he looked at me with a cheeky smile and said, "Korean Buddhism is funky as hell. " He told me stories about a few monks who drink, have sex, and watch Korean soap operas, but who are still as “woke” as any other monk. "There's no one watching over your shoulder. It's personal." It was good to talk to a human this time, and not just the robes of a monk. I asked, "Don't you ever get the urge to put on a Stones record?" Another smile. "Sure. And I do."

Check out the second installment of this story tomorrow . . .

The Off Button

Where IsThe Off Button?!

In Walt Disney’s Fantasia, there’s a Mickey Mouse cartoon called the Sorcerer's Apprentice. In this cartoon, the Sorcerer is going out for the night, probably to play D&D with his pals, and decides to put his apprentice, Mickey, in charge of cleaning up the joint. Mikey’s not too happy about this until he finds the Sorcerer's magic hat and wand and puts some magic into the brooms, mops, and buckets to become animated and do all the work by themselves. In his desire to make his life easier, he replicates all the mops, brooms, and buckets until there’s a veritable army of animated cleaning tools. Soon, things start to get out of hand and Mickey realizes with horror that he doesn’t know how to turn it all off. Water from the buckets and teams of mops and brooms are flooding the place. In his desire to automate his life, he soon realizes that he’s literally drowning in a river of his own chaos. Luckily, the Sorcerer returns just in time to snatch his hat and wand back and return things to normal.

I often wonder how much we are all like Mikey. In our attempt to make our lives easier and to produce more, we often find ourselves drowning in our own machinations of being productive and we have no clue how to turn it all off. Today, I’d like to offer one way of finding your “off” button.

In a self-help world, where people are bombarded with myriad ways of improving themselves, a person can begin in earnest several different kinds of practices. These practices might range from yoga, meditation, pilates, cardio, etc. All too often, the underlying promise of these practices is that if I just do more, I’ll be happier, that it will improve my being in some way. While human beings are programmed to progress and grow, sometimes that growth can come through the least expected practices. One such practice is the practice of relaxation, the practice of not doing anything.

Just like meditation or yoga, practicing relaxation can be deeply illuminating and self-revealing. It refutes the damning notion that we are constantly bombarded with, that if we just DO more, we’ll be happier. What if we take the opposite approach? What if we practice NOT doing? I’m not talking about turning procrastination into a life-skill. I’m talking about deciding to actively relax, to regularly afford yourself the time and space to rest and to fill up the well.

The irony is that even though one might turn to a relaxation practice to purposefully step away from the insidious pull to always be doing more, by relaxing and recharging your batteries in body, mind, and spirit, you’ll naturally find yourself more alert, capable, and ready to produce in all the ways you choose to. In other words, because of your dedication to rest, you will do more.

Relaxation is Healing

One of my Ayurveda teachers told me that rest and relaxation is one of the first orders of operation for any kind of healing in body, mind, or spirit. As humans, we have an incredible capacity for renewal. If given the time to rest, muscles, skin and bones can heal, minds can become still, and even broken hearts can mend. Failure to allow injuries in body, mind, or spirit to heal can make injury or illness chronic and sometimes terminal. Practicing relaxation allows injuries of all sorts to heal.

In the realm of psychotherapy, relaxation has proven to be the catalyst for deep healing of trauma. Joseph Wolpe was a leading psychiatrist and a leading figure in behavioral therapy in the 1900s. He treated many people affected with PTSD through systematic desensitization using relaxation as a primary agent. He realized that a person cannot be relaxed and stressed at the same time. So, he used a process of systematic awareness, similar to a Yoga Nidra practice, to help people arrive in a deep state of relaxation. Then, once his patients had facility with relaxation, he would begin to present stressors in very small doses. In a state of relaxation, what would normally cause stress didn’t even phase the patient. Incrementally, he would increase a person’s tolerance to that stressor until it was no longer a stressor at all. Relaxation was a safe and effective approach to helping heal some deep wounds of trauma.

Relaxation As A Practice

Believe it or not, relaxation is a skill. Some people can become relaxed very easily and others, not so much. Come on, are YOU one of those people who just cannot relax? There’s no greater hell than not being able to to relax , especially when we need to. Sometimes, we know we need to relax but our habit of being constantly on overrides our ability to let go. We just can’t get ourselves to quiet down in body, mind, and spirit.

Learning to relax might include choosing to turn down appointments or social engagements. It might also mean turning off the television and your phone for a while. I know, many of us turn to our phones and TV to veg out and relax, though oftentimes, these avenues don’t provide the kind of deep relaxation we need, they only serve as distractions. We might also need some formalized relaxation practice to follow.

To do a relaxation practice, might I suggest arranging a time in the middle of the day when you can have 20–30 minutes alone. Let those who share space with you (including pets) that you’ll be unavailable for 20–30 minutes. Try lying down on the bed, couch, or floor (hammocks work nicely, too). Cover your eyes with an eye mask. This reduction in light, quiets the nervous system and tells your brain that it’s time to relax.

During your relaxation practice, you might try counting your breaths down from 100. Begin by simply noticing your breath. On the exhale count the number 100, inhale and count 99, exhale, 98, etc. If your mind wanders, there’s no judgement good or bad. It happens to everyone, just start back at 100. If you get all the way to zero, there’s no judgement good or bad. It happens to everyone, just start back at 100. The difficulty is to let go of the achievement in the practice. Sometimes for this reason, I’ll start at a number like 1000 with no hope of getting to zero before my practice is over. This helps me to simply rest in the practice of focusing on the numbers without achievement.

You may also practice doing a relaxing body scan. You can do this by spending a few seconds by noticing each body part from head to toe in succession as you watch yourself become more relaxed. Take a few seconds to rest your attention on each body part. When you get down to your toes, just start back at your head and consider that you’re taking yourself deeper and deeper into relaxation with each pass of the body. Our most natural state of being is one of relaxed alertness so as you begin to practice simply being Aware of your body, you’ll naturally find yourself relaxing your body deeper and deeper.

It’s likely that your mind will want to process something during your relaxation practice. It might be frustrating to try to turn your brain off, especially if it’s in the habit of being turned up to 11. In truth, our job in a relaxation practice isn’t to deny our brains from doing what they are programmed to do. Instead of trying to prevent your mind from doing what it’s designed to do, give your mind a job. Allow it to focus on something simple and singular like your breath or your body. I find this to be a valuable pointing.

If you think your mind might be too worried about time to relax, set a timer for 20–30 minutes so you know that there will be a definitive ending time, allowing you to relax into the experience.

No matter what other practices you do in your life, few other practices will help you to be your best like a regular practice of relaxation. A regular relaxation practice will help you heal in body, mind, and spirit, you’ll be more pleasant to be around, and it will ironically even make you more productive. You’ll find yourself being less reactive to life’s events and more responsive to them. In truth, this could be the “off” button you need to prevent you from drowning in the river of your own chaos.

Start a relaxation practice and tell me how it goes!

A Life-Changing Practice

One of my most impactful teachers, Dr. Judith Hanson Lasater, suggested I do a particular practice once a year, during the days between Christmas and New Years: Savasana.

Savasana or corpse pose is the resting pose you get at the end of asana practice, which hopefully lasts for more than 2 seconds if your teacher has any love in their heart. Judith suggests a week of practicing JUST Savasana.That’s it. No other pose. She promises, “It will change your life!”

Louis Armstrong said, “What we play is life,” and it seems fitting that after the year we’ve “played,” fraught with difficulty, strain, and shakiness, we need a good, solid, lengthy savasana … and then maybe a stiff drink (click here for the original recipe of my CORONA Cocktail).

And so, may I suggest this practice to you. Take a rest. Do a week of Savasana.

Close the door and put a “Do not disturb” sign outside. Set yourself up on a yoga mat, couch, or bed. Put a cushion under your knees and head and an eye pillow over your eyes. Incidentally, if you don’t have an eye-pillow, a COVID mask doubles nicely as an eye mask. Perhaps a blanket might feel nice on top of you. Set a timer for 30–90 minutes, so you’re not worried about time. Then lay down and rest. Don’t worry about poses. Don’t fret about burning off all the cookies that Santa didn’t bother to take with him. Just relax.

If you like, download this wonderful, end of the year Yoga Nidra practice (relaxing guided meditation) and let it lead you through past, present, and future as you create what you’d like to see for yourself moving forward into 2021 and beyond.

You’ll emerge from each practice feeling clear-headed, energized, and rested.

“God REST ye merry gentlemen (and women and non-binary folks, thank ye very much)”

Let me know how it goes!

Laying The Foundation for Our Future

This is a wake-up year. Unfailingly, this year has impacted you both on an individual and collective level. The old can’t die quick enough and it takes time for what’s new to be born. What’s left is a lot of pain and discomfort. This pain is helping us to wake up to the truth that the world is changing and it’s asking you an essential question: are you going to wilt or thrive with these changes?

I know I’m not alone when I say that I just want COVID-19 to be over and for things to go back to normal. You know what I can’t wait for? I can’t wait to see people’s mouths when they smile. I can’t wait to give hugs again. I can’t wait to go to the movies. I can’t wait to be in a crowd of people without feeling worried that I’m going to get sick. I can’t wait to leave the house without a mask. Wait a minute … I can’t wait to leave the house, period!

But staying inside actually gives us a rare opportunity, the opportunity to do some essential and overdue building. You see it all over the place. Restaurants are using this time of being shut-down to finally do that neglected remodel. Instead of touring, musicians are taking this time to practice and create new music. Writers are hunkered down, writing their next masterpiece. Personally, I’ve spent many months during this time at home to write, film, and build my exciting new Yoga Nidra course and Yoga Nidra teacher training.

This rebuilding applies to us personally as well. At a time when we would otherwise be too busy to take care of essential maintenance for body, mind, and spirit, this year has actually presented us with an invaluable opportunity to do some essential building for the future we want to see for ourselves.

And as much as I hope for things to go back to normal after COVID-19, I know that there’s no going back. There’s only going forward. Sure, someday we will be able to do things like give hugs again, and they’ll be tighter, longer, and sweeter when we do, but one thing this difficult year has taught us, is that we gotta get comfortable with being inside. Yes, that means being judicious about leaving the house and even being subject to a full-on lock-down, but with a little insight, we might see an invaluable and deeper lesson, here. The lesson is that regardless of a global pandemic, we must get comfortable going inside, getting quiet and tuning into our hearts, minds, and spirits. We need to go inside and meditate in order to discover that the changes we wish to see in ourselves and the world exist inside, not out.

Especially as we are on the cusp of a new year, what are the tools, resources, and practices that will help you to build a new future for yourself and therefore for the world?

Meditation is a simple but powerful tool that can help to moor you against the storm of life’s changes. It can elevate your state of consciousness to make you happier, less stressed, and more compassionate. Regular and consistent meditation practice has the power to change your stage of consciousness, your irreversible stage of cosmic understanding, and your basic ability to see the goodness of the world.

Now is time to lay the foundation of a new year and your future with the power of a simple but consistent meditation practice.

So, let’s do it together!

Starting January 1st, begins my 31-day meditation Challenge. This challenge is simple, effective, and fun. Join the challenge and become a part of a global sangha (a group of meditators) as we lay the foundation for this new year and new future with a more mindful YOU, the you that will change the world by becoming the person you are destined to become.

The challenge is simple: meditate every day for 15 minutes a day in any style you wish, any time you wish. That’s it. I’ll support you with plenty of instruction, tools, and encouragement along the way, including several guided meditation practices, including Yoga Nidra, the relaxing and transformational form of guided meditation I’m so passionate about.

If you’re newish to meditation, this is the perfect opportunity to develop a simple practice and feel the compounding benefits of a regular meditation practice. I’ll give you simple, step-by-step guides to help you start a daily mediation practice. If you’re an experienced meditator, please join our group and add your experience and spirit to help raise the vibe! If you’ve ever been at a mediation group or retreat, you’ve probably felt the exponential power of meditating as a group. Join this group!

I’ve absolutely loved doing this meditation challenge in the past. If you’ve joined me in the past for this, then hopefully you know how fun and beneficial it is and want to join me again.

With this meditation challenge, I’ll be providing:

• ALL NEW content, recordings, and meditations

• A daily email with encouragement, insight, poetry, and resources

• Weekly live, online sessions for 30-minutes to meditate together, for Q&A, and meet those across the globe who will be doing this. We’ll get to meditate together in real-time with others across the globe AND we’ll be able to celebrate and meditate on the last day of the challenge together.

When you register, you’ll receive a welcome email with all the information, including the specs of the challenge as well as a page of resources like meditation guides, guided meditations that you can listen to or download, and helpful pranayama (breathing) practices.

The challenge starts January 1 but you can start to meditate today and feel the compounded benefits of a regular, simple meditation practice.

Make a meditation posse! Several people in the past have decided to do the meditation challenge as a family, a work group, or as friends. What better way to raise the vibe of the people you work and live with than to be meditating together.

For me, I feel less incentive to complete challenges like this unless I’ve got some skin in the game. Every time I run a marathon, I think of the money I paid for to register and it motivates me to keep training and to run the damn thing. So, to help you put a little skin in the game, I’m charging $31 for this meditation challenge. But GET THIS, I’m committed to your success so, if you complete the challenge, if you meditate every day for 15 minutes a day, all the way through January, you can opt to get your $31 back, or apply it to other cool stuff. That’s right! $31 is an easy investment into a solid foundation for the new year and the new YOU.

If we’ve learned anything from this difficult year, hopefully we’ve learned that we gotta get comfortable with going inside in body, mind, and spirit. While we are weathering this storm of COVID-19 and practicing social-distancing, though we may not connect in body, we can still practice coming together in mind and spirit as we meditate together and lay the foundation for a great year and a great future.

Please join me!🙏💕💛

Will you please forward this to those you want in your posse.