Horse Yoga - The Return

Yes, much time has passed, as I detoured into the world of teaching at an alternative charter high school for kids at-risk of graduating. I taught an animal science class where we brought horses on to our very urban school and practiced measuring along with just being with horses. We had lessons around being with horses, where field trip was going out to the barn to learn from Sport and Junior. We were in the midst of developing an exciting hands-on horse science program when I got run over by a car, and while I was down, along came Covid-19. School priorities shifted. So did I.

I re-connected with Judith and the horses of Dancing Horse Farm. Camilla didn’t even ask where I had been, she nuzzled me as she always had, and indicated it was time to do. 

We have picked up and simply begun again. 

Begin at the beginning. 

Communal beyond time and space

Camp Lipizzan is a writer's camp. Writers and their friends come out to the desert to hang with plants and critters wild and tame (mostly) and polish up their writing with the assistance of their hostess, author and keeper of the Dancing Desert Horses, Judith Tarr.

In true camp fashion, it's not just about the main activity of writing. There are, after all, horses to feed, sunrises and sunsets to soak in, strolls in the desert, the chance to take a balancing riding lesson with my friend Stacey Kollman, and the opportunity to yoga play with the herd.

I am blessed to be the one who gets to integrate the language of the herd with our human language, the yoga teacher. Sure, we practice our tadasana (mountain pose), we practice our chakra power walk, we practice our breathing, and being with our breath as we are with the herd. The horses expect nothing less from me, and sometimes require a little more. It all depends on who is showing up, and how.

Yesterday's class was a little bit different. (If I am honest, I would say that about each and every time we meet with the horses in this way).  Judith had a fresh injury, clearly painful, but Judith is one in whom the warrior blood runs ancient and deep. So, although she was more than prepared to stuff the pain and carry on, as her yoga teacher, I wanted her to consider a different way for the day. It was Ro, her young dog, who suggested the modification; a place to rest, grounding deeply, his leash under her foot to support his own practice of self-management around horse energy, and outside the fenced paddock area where we do our practice.

We circled up, outside the paddock, Khephera on the other side of the boundary presenting his bum for scratching (a sure sign that Summer Is Coming). Most of the horses circled in. Even Little Zeus, who typically opts out, contributed his energy. The one who was keeping his energy under the radar was the Pooka, the stallion. Now that was different.

We enter. The horses can be almost devilishly entrancing, but I round up the humans anyway, remind them of the 3 Rules: Breathe, Eyes Open, Don't Lock Your Knees.  We ground, we walk, we connect deeply into our sacrum, our sacred bone heart, and we feel our feet. You might be surprised at how tightly we contain the prana, the energy, of our feet. And when we are around horses milling around, we can have a tendency to draw that energy more inward, (because, yes, it does hurt mightily should that foot get stepped on).

I look back to Judith and Ro. They are deeply connected to all of our actions, observing keenly, the energy of, dare I call it love? palpable, pulsing. Truly, I did not have to look, because I could feel it. The Pooka is still maintaining his lower energetic profile, and I realize then that it isn't less or hidden at all, he has drawn to that place of deep subtlety, where a loud stallion voice would interfere, would break the spell.

I could go on, and on, and on. I'll stop here for now. Words, even at Camp Lipizzan, where words are the very coin of the realm, words can only convey what words can convey.  But those words continue to journey into those deep and subtle places, find nourishment in community with one another, reveal themselves later through story, song, and poem.

Om shanti

New normal: diabetes, yoga, and me (the yoga teacher)

It's been a little over a week since I was sitting in the Urgent Care office for a follow-up to what was at first thought to be two different infections and the doctor told me he suspected I had Type II Diabetes.

"What the fuck?!?!"

But I'm a yoga teacher.

So? Maybe my moderately active exercise and mostly reasonable diet held off the decline in the intricacies of my body's internal insulin management for longer than what otherwise be imagined.  Maybe.

I can tell you that I know that my practice of yoga and yoga teaching literally saved my life when I faced some serious health challenges 20 years ago (giant fibroids and chronic back pain and, and, and).

But I did not see this coming.

I was flooded with feelings. I was pissed. I was sad. I was probably in a bit of shock. I felt a sense of betrayal in myself, by myself. I felt a sense of shame; if only I had followed my own advice to tweak my diet, be more regular in my meals.  And as my analytical mind kicked into gear, this young doctor said, "Stop. You didn't do anything wrong. I look at you and see a healthy and fit 62 year old. Sometimes things happen. And, you may have some grief to deal with. And here is what we need to do to stabilize you…"

That old adage, hindsight is 20-20, has some merit. I WAS receiving information from my body over the last few months (prior to that I'd felt GREAT), but was not interpreting it correctly. As once-was-statistician - my assumptions were incorrect.

I had been experiencing drowsiness at unexpected times, and I started to note (before the diagnosis) that they were cyclical in nature. I told myself that I needed to get my meals to be more regular, a challenge in the yoga teacher world of erratic personal schedules. I was having brain-fog moments, sometimes a difficulty in concentrating. I studied harder. Signs were there.

Then, in mid-February,  I got hit with a 24-hour flu bug, that seemed to keep returning, knocking me lower each time, until I went into a kind of fugue state, not eating (nothing at all) for 5 days, yet still getting myself to my teaching commitments. Finally, I went to Urgent Care, got on antibiotics (some pneumonia was detected in one lung). I was a compliant patient, and after the course of treatment was complete and I'd begun replenishing my gut with probiotics, wondered that I wasn't at 100%, felt maybe at 80% at best. I went back to Urgent Care, requested the same doctor.

Hello to the unexpected. Looking back, I understand now that my glucose levels were rising, rising, rising, and then into an acute situation, triggered by a flu bug.  Thank you, little virus. Without your catalyst, those levels might have just kept on rising, I wouldn't have taken the action I did, and who knows?

I am intrigued that I had been setting up the vinyasa karma sequencing for asana that I am conservative in teaching (halaasana, gomukhaasana) that address the pancreas. I had some cyclical food cravings, from salads with certain ingredients (I'm not really a salad fan), to foods from my childhood (grilled cheese on white bread with american cheese).   Signs were there.

So.

Things have changed, and I adjust to my new normal.  Sharing my journey with diabetes with my yoga students (but mindfully, not obsessively) is part of that.   And I feel good.

Om. Shanti shanti shantih:
Namaste.

Being with Cats, an Ellie update

To fully grasp what is happening in this picture, take a look at this older update of once-chased-cats, a.k.a, Ellie.

http://dhyogadog.blogspot.com/2010/01/curbing-cat-chasing-update.html.




A quick summary of what worked for us:

• Manage encounters. 
• Desensitize the dog to the presence of the cats through positive reinforcement behavioral adjustment methods. 

We, (not the royal we, but Ellie and myself) used Clicker Training, because Ellie liked the Clicker game.  She's not a very highly food-motivated dog, but she does love a good game with consistent rules and the click with reward fills that bill nicely.

It helps if the cats understand the game and will get in on it. I had trained a few little tricks for both of our cats just to see if I could do it. They enjoyed the game enough to come out for the clicker whenever I trained Ellie with the clicker, so that provided many opportunities for reinforcing the behavior that I wanted.

The initial behavior I wanted from Ellie when a cat was around was 'look away'.  Better yet, 'look at me'. But Ellie was so new to us, that I took the 'look away' first, and then it became 'look at me'.

As Ellie and I continued our practices together, and she went to dog school and other social outlets, it became clear that 'look' or 'watch' is really what she likes to do. It's as if the world is an infinite screen TV with all Ellie fun, all the time. She loves to watch, and she especially loves to watch movement. The dog behavior model that describes this is the 'drive' model, and this training model is often used with German Shepherd Dogs.

Funny Miss Ellie, though, isn't so interested in following through with a finish to the chase. Watching can sometimes be good enough. So part of my job is to help her have plenty of 'watch time'.

And so we come to Today. Socks passed on a few years ago, and today Kafka peacefully continues her transition journey from this life, with Ellie gently watching over her.

Invitation to a Yin experience

If I was to say
STOP!
That would just be
more of the same

What if
instead
I was to invite you
to join me
crawling mindfully
flowing in slow sprawl

receiving time
receiving your own wisdom
receiving your own self
some time to just receive

receive your sweet dark center
crawling in the light

This one is for you

This one is for you
beautiful one
you know who you are

you are not this affliction
this harsh teaching
that reaches deep into your bones

at the root of this
is your own wisdom
that sharp shard of clarity
honed by shadow

your center holds
within the mist
beyond the veil
created in creating

how your fire burns
now slow glowing embers
flames flicker into the dance
a conflagration of consciousness
burning on the shore

the ocean that is your heart
makes waves
now turbulent
now dashing
clawing at the edge of solid spaces
to then lap gently in communion

speak freely with your wise self
tell her all your secrets
you know she knows them anyway

see your light
illumined
soft as the dandelion seed in flight
sharp as the thorn of the desert dwellers

you are not this affliction

know you are
this play of light and night
a symphony of silent sound
a resonance
a spaciousness

you know who you are
beautiful one
this one is for you

@jenny kendall, 2013

Yoga Moment: Fierce Peace

when fear bangs on the door to your heart
sigh it out
make room
     for breath
          for ease
for the ferocity of peace

stand as a mountain
root deep as the tree
sigh it out
make room