November 29, 2012 | 11:40 am

spillers and stumbling blocks

Posted by Michelle Azar

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I am a spiller. I was pronounced a spiller many moons ago. A Shabbat moon, in fact, when I was just 4 years old in our apartment in Chicago. I was desperate each Friday night to place the kiddish cup on the table. Each week, my parents, or at least my mom, gave in to my plea, and each week, just before setting it down, I would spill it. The red liquid would collapse to the floor as I would collapse to my bed in anguish.

The silver cup from Iraq bequeathed to my father from his remained with us, despite my tumbles. When I see it now, I think of my attempts at placing it down on the table. I did see a picture from that time, and the Sabbath objects are on the counter in the kitchen rather than the dining room table, so it is possible my parents got smart and moved my target closer.

I am still a spiller, however. Today, for instance, I spilled my pretty iPhone into our doggie’s water bowl. I have been soaking it in rice as my brother-in-law instructed, and since I trust him with all things food and technological, I trust my phone will make a full recovery.

But will I. How long will we take these labels from our childhood and let them be our guides? I AM this, I AM that. All these interpretations made on our behavior from other folks while we are little and unarmed can dictate our whole life story. We may unwittingly work to make these labels true in the present, even when they are ready to be outgrown. I know, for example, how to be LESS of a spiller. Go slower. Simple. I may still spill and break and drop, but less if I am truly present and not already on the next thing I HAVE  to do.

This is why I like yoga practice so much. The practice of staying here, in breath, in movement, alone on my own mat, is for me a microcosm of this daily struggle. I like the yoga too because it pushes limits physically, yes, ( I was NEVER the athlete I was as a kid that I am now!), but pushes our limits mentally as well.

May we learn to drop our labels this week. Those we have for ourselves, and those we use to limit our relationships with others.

In peace,

Michelle

November 16, 2012 | 8:13 pm

Drsti

Posted by Michelle Azar

There is a Sanskrit word I like very much. Drsti. Pronounced DRISTI. It means vision. This word is often used during asana, posture, practice to remind students where to place their eyes. Each posture has a complementary focal point, for instance, in downward dog, one is to look at the naval. Sometimes the posture calls us to concentrate on the eyebrow center , sometimes the nose. I would be lying if I said I knew the significance of each focal point in relation to the posture, but I like to think there is real magic behind the direction of that vision.

My teacher long ago said our drsti is to us what the stick is to the elephant in the market place. It give us something to hold on to during practice so that our attention does not wander. The trunk of the elephant when occupied  does not reach out and grab at all the pretty bobbles around, but rather stays steady and on task as it moves forward.

So many things around us beg for our attention. It becomes more and more difficult to stay on track sometimes. Not only the immediate necessities, but the emotional world too vies is out there to tempt us away from our goal. One of my students noticed how deep his breath gets when he is really connected to drsti. His practice is erratic, but the drsti, complete. Full. The dark eyes of this businessman full with reflection of what drsti could mean in the world OFF the yoga mat, sometimes pop into my mind when I feel myself falter. The mornings that I jump absent-mindedly through some postures, or languidly without any conscious breath move through others, he offers me his Drsti.

And when bad news comes and I want to give in, his soulful observation of taking the drsti off the mat as they say, draws me in. There are many ways to say it. Just keep moving forward, the motto of many. But since I like this word so much, this Drsti, I figure I would offer it up this evening. In the face of much sorrow in the world right now, in the face of the earlier hours of darkness, the drsti can renew our hope.  Inhalation begins movement, and exhalation lets the movement settle.Through breath and the focus of the eyes, we can move deeper into stillness. Deeper into the vision of peace.

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November 16, 2012 | 8:13 pm

Drsti

Posted by Michelle Azar

There is a Sanskrit word I like very much. Drsti. Pronounced DRISTI. It means vision. This word is often used during asana, posture, practice to remind students where to place their eyes. Each posture has a complementary focal point, for instance, in downward dog, one is to look at the naval. Sometimes the posture calls us to concentrate on the eyebrow center , sometimes the nose. I would be lying if I said I knew the significance of each focal point in relation to the posture, but I like to think there is real magic behind the direction of that vision.

My teacher long ago said our drsti is to us what the stick is to the elephant in the market place. It give us something to hold on to during practice so that our attention does not wander. The trunk of the elephant when occupied  does not reach out and grab at all the pretty bobbles around, but rather stays steady and on task as it moves forward.

So many things around us beg for our attention. It becomes more and more difficult to stay on track sometimes. Not only the immediate necessities, but the emotional world too vies is out there to tempt us away from our goal. One of my students noticed how deep his breath gets when he is really connected to drsti. His practice is erratic, but the drsti, complete. Full. The dark eyes of this businessman full with reflection of what drsti could mean in the world OFF the yoga mat, sometimes pop into my mind when I feel myself falter. The mornings that I jump absent-mindedly through some postures, or languidly without any conscious breath move through others, he offers me his Drsti.

And when bad news comes and I want to give in, his soulful observation of taking the drsti off the mat as they say, draws me in. There are many ways to say it. Just keep moving forward, the motto of many. But since I like this word so much, this Drsti, I figure I would offer it up this evening. In the face of much sorrow in the world right now, in the face of the earlier hours of darkness, the drsti can renew our hope.  Inhalation begins movement, and exhalation lets the movement settle.Through breath and the focus of the eyes, we can move deeper into stillness. Deeper into the vision of peace.

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November 8, 2012 | 1:01 pm

time lines

Posted by Michelle Azar

“But it’s already been 4 weeks!” she wailed. My new friend has been working out, eating differently, and wondering just WHEN were those results going to kick in.

I smiled. I got it. Heck, I GET it. I get very result oriented when I make the decision to change. I want the change and I want it NOW. I am in the process of feng shui-ing my house (can you USE a Chinese word as an English gerund??) At first, it was fun. We all felt such immediate responses that it just seemed like Magic was unleashed with every new room. Now, the more difficult moments emerge. That one closet. Those things that move aimlessly without a home. The time spent tackling just seem TOO difficult.

The admonishment begins. “It’s already been like 2 weeks, why isn’t it done? Where did all the magic go? I AM trying!” In fact, the 11-year-old girl in my house asked the same thing of me tonight. My heart broke as her big eyes registered the pain and shock of her day’s disappointment. “I DID prepare ! I did give it my all, and look where it got me?” She released the confusion that sets in when the process does not yield our sought after results.

We talked some more, the 11-year-old and I. The new friend and feng shui expert and I. And then I spent time talking to other friends, and family, and ultimately, talked to myself. These talks, sometimes alone, sometimes in the safety of groups, sometimes with paid professionals or moms even, can be the strength and motivation we might need to return to our process. Whatever that may be.

As we make time to unroll our mats this week, note that we are heading toward change with that one simple act.

In wonder, bravery, and appreciation

Michelle

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November 2, 2012 | 10:51 am

To Do List

Posted by Michelle Azar

If you’re like me, you like lists. To do lists, grocery, recipe lists… They make me feel organized. And sometimes, reveal just how disorganized I really am, as I often FORGET the darn list at home when it is time to forge ahead into the DOING part.

I like lists because I can see all the pretty words sitting next in one place. They are ready and clear for the tackling. The joy of the simple list then goes through the roof when each item is either stored, understood, or better yet, crossed off.

There are certain things, I have grown to understand, that just are not meant to be checked off a list. Your spiritual health, for one thing. The inner work you do to keep your outer self healthy. Sane. Happy. Strong. We all know that adage “Practice makes perfect.” But what happens after the “perfect” comes? What happens once the standing ovation at Carnegie Hall dies down? Does the musician never return to his instrument? What happens AFTER you lose the 10 pounds from following the diet list so carefully? Do you add all those foods back in so that the newfound energy or exercise just seems that much more out of reach again?

Relationships cannot be on the “ALL DONE” part of a to do list. After the big blowup fight , when the relationship is back on track, do you stop sharing or listening or loving and find your way back into poor communication? Or meditation. After you learn the basics, clear the space and sit with tall spine for months, and then… Stop. Maybe the sleep disturbance returns. Or you find the monkey of your mind is louder and more forceful in its name calling than ever.

We all have our Achilles heel trying to hold us back. The moment we let our vigilant inner guard off duty, either from unmet expectations or from moments of triumph, we leave ourselves vulnerable to those mean old heels lying in wait. I am all for balance and testing your waters, but I find once I have found something that works for me, I rely too much on the experience itself and not enough on all the actions I take to partake in it healthfully.

We cannot take our spiritual selves lightly. I feel the same about community. Though I am not politically active as I could be, I feel connected to the same communal vigilance. To show up and vote on Tuesday is not something we can check off our lists until each one of us individually gets to the polls and casts a ballot. I appreciate the energy of your practices and comments here always. They keep me motivated and vigilant and working.

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