A Change of Seasons

it's cooler and darker in the early, early mornings when i awake and climb out of bed to ready myself to face the crisp air and still-twinkling stars (or clouds if the weather's mood is such) en route to the quiet studio where i will move through my routine of opening the building, flicking on lights (and soon the heat), and illuminating candles – all before chanting and saying a more thorough 'hello' to my body, and spirit, by breathing and commencing my practice.  many of my ashtanga friends and family know this ritual all too well, and it strikes me that it happens daily, around the globe, in more corners than we know, this 'waking up' to all that the day has to offer – and to ourselves.
it's inevitable as we embark upon our fall journey that the warm pull of bed begins to convince us to linger just a little longer – or even through our practice. and i would be the last person to say that it's easy to get up when it seems like everyone else is enjoying such a delightful embrace – or discredit the seasonal need for more sleep in this transitional time – but i would be the first to acknowledge that most of the struggle is harbored in my mind.  i've come to know that it's a loving thing to give myself both practice and rest, but the trick is being able to decipher the difference between the whisperings of my mind and those of my heart.  so each morning that i choose to part ways with my pillow and position my self upon my mat, resistance and all, is a choice to let go of the struggle, even just a little bit, and take a small step closer to something else, to unknown possibilities, to befriending myself and my own  truth.
from now until spring it's only going to get colder and darker – at least outside. 
happy fall to all!

(photo: Copyright QT Luong, terragalleria.com)

Where Did I Do My Training?

lately a lot have people, students and otherwise, have been asking me where i did my training to become a yoga teacher. i guess trainings are pretty common these days, and the title "certified yoga instructor" is too, but my response to such a question is more the flavor of "where did i (do i) not do my training?"  
yes, it's true, i have attended courses that specifically address the aspects of teaching ashtanga, and i have been to mysore, india and studied at the ayri with guruji (sri k. pattabhi jois) and r. sharath, but in the ashtanga tradition "certified" is a ranking i will likely not attain, and the posted definition to become a teacher of ashtanga yoga is that "the aspirant should demonstrate an appropriate attitude, devotion towards the practice, and a respect for the tradition of parampara, the succession of teacher and disciple."  a certain amount of time spent in mysore "studying the tradition at its source" is also required – and irreplaceable in terms of an understanding of this method.  
but, ultimately, it is the practice, the time spent on the mat, consistently, day in, day out, posture after posture, breath after breath, year after year, that prepares one to teach.  how much time?  that will vary, of course.  i never planned to teach until my teacher asked me, and then not until i was moved to share what i could of my own journey with the hope of communicating even a hint of the inspiration to delve deeper – into the light and the darkness – an inspiration that still burns fervently. commitment to practice and teaching are inextricably woven to create the fabric of the "training."
as i awake and move amidst the highs and lows, the smiles and tears, all that i bump up against or sail through, with the gift of a little grace or a certain steadiness to carry on, everything, every experience informs me – as a practitioner, a teacher, and as a human being.
where did i do my training?  i'm still doing it – every day!

(photo: By Robin Bergner)