Life's Meat Tenderizer

In the past 50 days (original writing 4/8/12), the Universe has asked me to let go of some important things in my life. It started with my 20 year old cat's death. Two weeks later, my 90 year old grandmother, with whom I was very close, died. Five short weeks later, my 15 year old cat died. For those without pets, it may be difficult to understand the loss, but these were creatures with whom I had my longest relationships outside of my family.

In spite of, or maybe because of the pain, I've learned a lot through these experiences. It has been a gift to be with each of them when they died. And I've learned lessons from all of them. My cat, Tiffy, was the poster cat for acceptance of all circumstances, unconditional love, joy and contentment. My grandmother was a dignified woman, who made me feel important, that I had special gifts to offer the world, and they should be shared through the things about which I am passionate. My other cat, Maddie, demanded from me full engagement, and she taught me discernment; she was a unique cat, but did not share herself indiscriminately.

Having experienced this "Trifecta of Death" in such a compressed time has left me feeling pretty roughed up, but I can see the value in it. An image became very clear to me a couple of days ago-the process of tenderizing meat. It feels like Life sprinkled a powder of experience on me, and Universal Timing took its spiky metal hammer and pounded the crap out of me. I realized that there were really two options: become hardened by the experience in an effort to shield myself from further sadness, or allow it to strip away all the BS and tenderize my heart. Believe me, I could use some tenderizing. I can often be without sentiment, too direct in my speech and unsympathetic. Pain has helped me understand the importance of leaving people with a good feeling about themselves after being in my presence. I'm not sure I'll get it perfectly anytime soon, but you can bet I'll be trying a lot harder.

There has also been an unexpected lesson for me. Respect for everyone's life situation, even if it seems unjust and beyond their control. I can recall situations from my own life-- some I chose unwisely, others felt more imposed upon me-where someone could have intervened and helped me. I can say with complete certainty that I benefited in untold ways from all of my experiences, good and bad. I hope I will not be misunderstood; it is important to help when necessary. I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm redefining "necessary" and hopefully I'm not nearly as arrogant as I was 7 weeks ago to think I know best for everyone. I think I understand what "live and let live" means.
There's also recognition for me now that I am not in charge. I'd like to think I'm holding the reigns, but I understand in a new way that I cannot see the whole picture and as the Desiderata says, "whether or not it is clear to you, the Universe is unfolding as it should." What I can control is the managing of myself through the processes that present themselves in my life.

Sound like a bunch of junk a former "cat lady" minus one grandma tells herself to feel better? Maybe, but it works. I DO feel better. And more grateful, more aware, more connected, and hopefully, a little more tenderized by Life's occasional bludgeoning. The good news is that I am still alive to do some good with my new knowledge.

If you want to read the blog post I wrote after my grandmother died last month, click HERE.
Thanks for reading, and I look forward to seeing you in the practice room.

Much love,
Liz

P.S. Another odd bit of timing related to all of this was a reminder I got today about a special practice I am doing on June 3^rd when Venus transits the Sun. The message of the practice to commemorate this galactic event is shedding the layers of protection that hide the True Self, allowing our actions to come from a place of purer intention. Two hours of fun, good work, and self-reflection- all for $20. If that sounds good to you, call Yogabliss to register, 206-275-2300, and I'll see you there!

Practice Interruptus

Hello Friends!

Here's a question: what do you do when it feels like your practice is going to hell in a handbasket? And you can define that anyway you'd like:

-I don't have time to practice

-I'm frustrated with/by/from (insert reason here)

-I'm not as motivated

-I can't find a yoga teacher/studio/style I like

-I stopped and I can't make myself start again

-I'm injured

You get the picture. I've recently been struggling with my own practice. This past month I haven't been practicing as intensely as I have for the last year, I can feel the difference in my practice, and I don't like it.

It doesn't really matter why we allow disruption to our practice. In my case, my good friend Patrick, a local yoga teacher and my yoga practice buddy, broke his arm. We have been practicing together for a year and a half or so, and it's been great. We like the same crazy stuff, we both like to work hard, and we have a similar enthusiasm for the practice. I have been looking forward to practicing with Pat for 18 months, when suddenly last month, he could not practice. UGH. I've been practicing, but it hasn't been the same. It was different when I had someone to push me, inspire me and hold me accountable on the days I didn't really feel like it. And things have been a bit lackluster for the last month as a result.

I've had all the normal feelings about it- frustration, annoyance, disappointment with myself; but I've also looked for the lessons in this experience.

Here's what I've come up with so far:

1.There is an ebb and flow to life, and therefore to the practice-on all levels. So don't be lazy, but don't beat yourself up either. Do your best to keep it together during the less ideal times, and things will come back around- they always do.
2.A yoga practice is personal, individual and about svadyaya (self-study), so it's best not to let it get too wrapped up in another person, their practice, or their existence. Yoga is personal. It is about Self-realization, not "Selves" - realization.
With those lessons in mind, it's healthy and fun to practice with one or more people. It's good to connect with other humans, and despite the requisite lip service to no competition in yoga, if everyone else is trying something, you 'll probably try stuff you wouldn't try if left to your own devices. And that's a good thing for personal growth.

Connecting and interacting with others is uniquely human, and it's where all the real yoga happens. Just make sure the practice is ultimately about and for you in a way that serves your spiritual development --with or without the company. Even though it would be so much simpler if enlightenment were about leg variations in handstand, it really has nothing to do with that, and everything to do with polishing the diamond of the soul and shining the light of the intellect upon it to reveal the beauty of its facets.

So put your efforts into your own inner practice, using the tools you have acquired thus far, with the most consistent work you can muster, and let no one or no circumstance deter you from the most important work you can do-revealing your true Self.

I hope to see you soon!
Consistently Yours,

Liz