I could relate to a lot of what Dass said as he described the frustration of working with his mind and body, seeing my own mother deal with these same issues in the last few years.  For Dass, the overwhelming part, the fierce part, was the stroke; the grace of course was the reprieve or clemency of not having his life end with the stroke.  He said he remembered lying there in the ER and looking up at the pipes in the ceiling and try as he might, he could not make the connection to the spiritual.  He said he “flunked the test” and was sent back (to continue working on enlightenment).  Not only was he given a pause, or turn, as he lay on the table, but he was given clemency and chance to try again.  Not fair perhaps, because he has the added limitation of aphasia to contend with, but nevertheless, the opportunity for growth and change, no matter how difficult the obstacles now. 

For the rest of us, living in Fierce Grace means aggressively pursuing the change in the trajectory of our journey and the reprieve, pause, or divine intervention it brings, rather than waiting for the universe to force us there.  We spend much of life maintaining routines that are safe, but possibly no longer useful.  What would it take to suddenly drop the routine?  When will we recognize obstacles as blessings?  How could we live with less and be more happy?  The crumbling away of what we think we know is difficult, but that is transformation.  It is an unnerving, but necessary, process.  Just as the fierceness of fire transforms solids into gas, the intensity of our lives can help us realize our full potential.

Swiftly finding our way to acceptance is personal and may not be as swift as we would like.  It is useless to try to rationalize our way there because the rational mind has left the building, and we find ourselves keeping company with negative, irrational thoughts that move us in a downward spiral much farther away from acceptance than we ever want to go.  So we try to stay in upward spiral.   Some may run it out in the park, or work it out in the gym.  Others immerse themselves in hobbies, or seek counceling.  Meditation and journaling have been helpful for many.  How about a good ‘ol cry, or a full on pity party?  That works too.  Whatever the vehicle, the PROCESS of arriving at acceptance is vital to getting back on track and needs to be respected as a sacred time of transformation and compassion for the self,  no matter how undignified you may feel about it, no matter how long it takes. 

Acceptance and transformation walk hand in hand and allow us to re-commit to the journey, the highest road within us.  Questioning doesn’t work.  Seeking wastes energy.  Negativity creates a breading ground for fear.  As my teacher Anand Mehrotra says “Have more love in your heart than fear.  It is too much to ask to not be afraid.  Our love can trump the fear.” 

“Don’t drink the water,” “don’t go out by yourself on the streets,” “learn some key phrases in their language,” “don’t eat food outside of the hotel,” “use hand sanitizer,” “take your own pillow and towels” . . .  (seriously?!). . . these were all the things I was told before I left on my adventure to India.  The list of things to be paranoid about when traveling to any foreign place is endless, if you allow it.   It almost makes you wonder why you even considered traveling to begin with!  No one can experience life from inside a bubble.  You have to reach out beyond the thin film of apprehension and become an active participant to get a pure sense of knowing another life, creating a timeless and personal souvenier.

In my own country of the United States, there is the traditional mixed with the contemporary, extreme wealth and extreme poverty, drinkable and undrinkable water, places where you can and can not walk on the street by yourself, hotel pillows and towels that are poor excuses for comfort, and hand sanitizer is advisable pretty much everywhere.  Examining all of these on a superficial point by point basis, it could be any country anywhere really.  When I arrived in India, it was to me at once different, and yet, somewhat similar.  All these same observations were apparent, but naturally veiled in the context of the culture.  It would have been easy to just be an observer, dipping my toe in the rushing current of stimulation that is India; seeing it in terms of comparison to cities and parts of our own country that might have accommodated a resigned sense of comfort.   However, I immediately allowed myself to get swept up into the whirlwind, swimming in the sights & sounds, anxious to feel the heart and heat of the culture.  I think this is where the problem lies in visiting any foreign place: that we are apprehensively anxious to “see” and “be in” an exotic place, but are afraid to really immerse ourselves in it, fearful we might lose ourselves there, unwilling to be uncomfortable and out of our element for any length of time.   As a result, we keep an arm’s length, wandering around, looking, snapping photos so we don’t forget the experience, but not letting any of it permeate the senses that allow us to feel the experience. 

Immersing ourselves in another culture can not change the context of our truth.  The blueprint of the self won’t be altered simply by will or time.  However, experiencing a foreign culture introduces us to, and broadens our understanding of, other ways of  life.  The clothes, the language, the colors and smells may be different from what we are accustomed to, but underneath these thin veils lies the common thread of humanity and compassion.  We are truly all of the same energy, beings of light and love.  “Imagine all the people sharing all the world.  You may say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m  not the only one.  I hope someday you’ll join us and the world will live as one.” (John Lennon)

We don’t really realize how much we rely on words, or more specifically, the use of our voice, until we don’t have one.  For me, this is Day 5 of Laryngitis and the frustration of my voice honking, sqweeking and fading in and out still sticks like a thorn in my side.   The forced silence has been refreshing really, challenging me to carefully consider and utilize as few words as possible to convey my thoughts, and only when necessary. 

Silence is a skill comprised of patience, concentration and contemplation, pretty much in that order.  While we converse all day long, jumping from one subject to the next, how often do we really hear what is being said?  Most comments/statements/words are exchanged with only a vauge understanding of what the other is trying to say, mainly because while they are speaking, we are already forming a response,  occupying the mind with another task.  Maybe we do this out of defensiveness, maybe boredum, or even excitement as we get caught up in the flow of thoughts.  Whatever the reason, we are eager to get the words out, as if we would not be understood without them.   

Listening more and saying less, making room for contemplation, understanding and healing.

Ever since I returned from India, I’ve witnessed intentions manifesting remarkably fast.  Hence this story from my yoga class today.   Just before leaving the house to teach, I received an e-mail from one of the ladies in my yoga group that referred to a lecture by the head of psychiatry at Stanford.  The topic was the psycho-physical benefits of the friendships between women, namely the release of the neurotransmitter serotonin and it’s ability to relieve stress and anxiety.  While a male/female relationship also had psycho-physical benefits, they were not as pronounced.  I grabbed my things and decided to use this topic in class today.  Relaying the information to my students, we offered the class for our best friends, all the relationships (both long and short-term) that we had in our lives, as well as our friendship with our (yoga) tribe members who were not able to practice with us today.  About 3/4 of the way through class, one of our tribe members diagnosed with Leukemia about a year and half ago walked in, and for a few minutes, shared in our practice and energy.  None of us had seen her since diagnosis.  No one called her or saw her prior to class.  She just showed up out of the blue.   Intention was offered, and returned, seemingly in the blink of an eye, with a visit from one of our own.  Often I am stirred by the energy in class, but today was powerful considering there were only 3 of us.   I know each of us experienced an a-ha moment of enlightenment when she enetered the room.

People come into our lives for a reason.  We may not always know what that reason is while we are in the relationship, if at all, or why it ceases to be after a time.   What is known is that these relationships (even the not so great ones) are gifts meant to move us forward on our journey, to teach us about ourselves, perhaps even make the traveling easier, happier.   Often we don’t analyze the friendships we have, because by their very nature, friendships should be easy and free of such burdens.  However, if we stop to consider, just for a moment, the circumstances of how they came to be, we would realize that there is no rationale for why a particular person connected with us for however long a space in time.  They just arrived, and stayed, and made us laugh, and cry, and think, and understand.  In the case of my yoga class, we formed a bond around the common thread of yoga and meditation, but I believe there are other connections yet to be understood.  We have shared much in our 3 years together, and manifested even more.

I have often said that the intention of a singular person is powerful beyond measure, but the intention of even a small group of like-minded people can move mountains.  As I packed up my paraphernalia, I glanced at a note in the sign in book.  It was from our friend saying she’d see us next Tuesday. 

The eternal light in me honors the eternal light in you!  Namaste

In yoga, we find this same opportunity in inversions - to look at things in a completely different way.  Perhaps not so much a social commentary as a spiritual one, inversions awaken our inner dialogue to consider approaching life in a different way on a personal level; shaking up what we know to be comfortable spiritually and physically.  In the physical realm, inversions allow us to literally change our visual perspective, as well as the way in which the body is supported (on our hands, head or arms) which can alone open the doors of personal change.  However, being upside down also has the scientific/medical benefit of taking the more toxic properties of our digestive system below the naval center, and with gravity, moving them towards the “fire” or “Agni” above the naval center where we can literally burn off the excess that no longer serve us.  Spiritually, inversions invite chaos as a way of releasing habitual routines and perceptions, allowing for growth through adaptation, and consequently a transformation of our understanding of pretty much everything.

Glancing at  the Dada Christmas tree over my shoulder as I turned to leave, having made my peace with it, I snickered at the similarity of my own experience in the completely different medium of yoga with the Dada art movement several decades before my time.  While the movement lasted only about 5-6 years, the ideas that it presented have been replicated and repeated continuously throughout history in different forms, even in my world of yoga.  The topsy-turvy tree with topsy-turvy inversions . . . questioning everything obvious, offering change.

Embracing the wild side of life, leaving what we know to be comfortable and familiar, will almost always create a permanent energetic shift in every direction and facet of our life experience.    Even if we are blissfully happy in our routine and not in search of even a sliver of adventure, the road less traveled will find us, defying any logic or reason we try to argue against it with. 

I had many reasons to not make this journey to India.  I never felt that I needed to travel half way around the world for an experience – not even for yoga.  Yet,  when I completed my first full certification of 2oo RYT (registered yoga teacher), I felt that something was missing; that it all seemed two-dimensional and I could feel there was more.  The thought that maybe I needed to experience yoga in its purest form in the place where it all began 5,000 years ago started pestering my conscience.  As quickly and frequently as the idea manifested, I dismissed it with multiple, viable reasons why it was a bad idea to make this journey: money, time, my parents, my husband, my dogs . . . all of  that, but still, the idea kept returning.  Call it karma, Kismet, whatever, a wild wind was literally blowing one Saturday during a beach yoga class that I was participating in.  My teacher encouraged all of us to sometimes embrace our wild side, shake up our lives, asking us what were we waiting for?  Within an hour, I registered for a 10 day intensive with Sattva Yoga Center in Rishikesh, India.  Shake up my life, I certainly did!  I had many opportunities to question my motives, to back out, right up until the day I departed the USA.  India kept drawing me to her like a magnate, still unable to really rationalize or make sense of it.  Therein lies the lesson – that not everything makes sense in life.  The death of a loved one, good fortune, misfortune, the path our lives take, etc. none of these are ever reasoned or explained adequately, if at all.  Still, they happen, and mysteriously, are intended to move us forward although sometimes cruelly, transforming us in a metamorphosis type way.  We are still “we,” only more informed, more aware, more capable versions of ourselves.

Looking back, I know now that I needed to experience yoga in this sacred and holy place of Rishikesh.  It has changed the way I perceive and teach yoga & meditation.  More importantly though was the experience of the Indians themselves.  Their genuine, often light-hearted, direct, respectful nature was like a comfortable hug of friendship and spirituality combined.  They welcomed all of us in our small tribe of yogis sharing their customs, traditions, families and hearts.  Just when I thought I knew all there was to know about acceptance and non judgment, this mystical place revealed another opportunity to expand the boundaries of my perception.  Just as Sattva Yoga is more of an “experience” rather than a type of yoga, so too is India itself, an experience rather than an exotic destination.  What began as me unreasonably embracing my wild side, ended with India unexpectedly embracing me.  I have yet to know fully how completely what I learned in and about India has affected me, but as Nisargadatta says it will sprout and grow and bring forth fruit – - and I shall not try to prevent it through reason or explanation.

There are 400+ children at the Khushi School (Khushi Charitable Project), all brimming with happiness & playfulness.  The school has been made possible from charitable contributions and is the foundation project of Sattva Yoga Center.  School is not mandatory in this part of Rishikesh.  There is no tuition at Khushi.  The only requirement to attend this school is to show up – pure desire.  To Western eyes, on the  surface  it appears these children do not have much, but in actuality, it is the very lack of  things that makes these children so happy and content.  They have all that they need because they are accustomed to having less.

The children involved in the after school programs presented us with a recital of singing and dancing, martial arts, traditional dance, and a priceless rendition of the children’s hand song “Are You Sleeping Brother John” that brought smiles from ear to ear.  It wasn’t long before the children were taking us by the hands asking us to dance “Please madam, please madam . .  “.  Now, dancing is NOT my thing, but those sweet kids bridged all the barriers of age, culture and language, so how could I refuse?  Before I knew it, I got my groove on – something I hadn’t done in years (sadly).

Somewhere between our own childhood and adulthood the pressure of responsibility sets in along with competitiveness, excessive desire and the need to fulfill someone else’s expectations of who we should be.  No doubt we all would be hard pressed to pinpoint exactly where and when life stopped becoming joyful and more like a routine – the daily grind.  It is part of the human condition for survival. Our freedom becomes buried  in the closet of the mind.  We know it is there, but have difficulty connecting with it.  We begin to fruitlessly search for it in material things, forgetting that real freedom is, and always has been, in allowing the spirit to express itself completely and passionately.

We should never lose the wonder and irrepressible joy of the child.  Sing and laugh out loud, dance and jump around, let the spirit be free.  Doing so allows us to be fully present in the moment, experiencing the full spectrum of joy and bliss.   Living with less; enjoying more.

For more information on the Khushi Charitable Project please visit www.khushi.org.in

We have all climbed a mountain at one time or another in the emotional sense.  The journey is never easy and can reduce us to tears.  Sometimes it is a steep, rocky, uphill climb, other times flat and uneven., still others are a combination of both, some long, some short, etc.  Regardless, these journeys are important milestones in finding our strengths and overcoming weaknesses.  Realizing  that we are often held back and kept prisoner by the monkey mind and that we truly choose to move forward out of free will and desire, quelling the self-doubt, the “what ifs” and manifesting happiness.  Mantras and affirmations can help to steady the mind for progress along the climb.  The real questions is will you make the climb?

Our trek to the Devine Mother Temple (Kunj Puri) was an exercise in perseverance and strength in every aspect of the words.  Starting our adventure in Rishikesh at about 3,000 ft., we were to ascent to 7,000 ft. in approximately 6 hours.  None of us knew that is would be basically straight up with small switchbacks for that length of time – - and that we would be in silent meditation for  its entirety.  This is a tall order for a group of 18 women.  It was taxing  mentally and physically, but the hardest part was that it broke each of us down emotionally and all of it a battle with the negative self talk, doubt and occasional fear. The mantra helped bring the mind to neutrality, putting one foot in front of the next and suddenly, somehow, reaching the satisfaction of accomplishment  I absolutely could not have made it without those 6 little words each one matching a footstep: Dhum dhum dhum jaia mata Durga ki (asking for strength and from the goddess Durga).  Completely spent, we arrive at the temple which was already in cloud cover.  Looking up, we find more steps (I’m guessing 108) leading to the temple itself.  Ugh!  We all made it in our own individual ways, paid homage to Shakti and Shiva, and even witnessed the marital blessing of a newlywed couple. 

With my head in the clouds and my feet firmly on the ground, I settled my mind on the mountain and became the mountain – a stronger, lighter, better version of myself.  The climb is never over.