Sarah J. Blige

The musings of Ms. Blige

Sarah J. Blige cherry blossoms

Good Things Come

October 23rd, 2011 · The Yoga Diaries

“Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things – with resignations, yes, but above all, with blazing, serene hope.” -Corazon Aquino

Patience is defined as, “quiet, steady perseverance; even-tempered care; diligence” and, “as the bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like.” Bikram Yoga is always trying. It pushes us to our limits (or rather, we push ourselves) and we’re often met with pain and discomfort, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Some days we rock it: our bodies feel strong and energetic, we go to our personal edge and then poke our toes over, and we lie in final savasana thinking the last 90 minutes just flew right by. And other times, we struggle hard: everything hurts, the floor seems miles away in hands-to-feet-pose, it’s hot as hell and your body just won’t seem to cooperate. But every class is another opportunity to face and conquer whatever difficulties we’re met with on that particular day. Yoga is a battlefield, and your weapons are patience, single-pointed focus, determination, and love. Be strong and fearless, and fight your personal battles with everything you’ve got, but also be kind and gentle with yourself, and simply witness and appreciate your growth, slow as it may be at times. And never, ever compare your journey to that of another: you’re not going to the same place, so comparing the path that leads you there is a big fat waste of time.

In my nearly four years of practice I’ve accomplished tremendous growth in most of the 26 postures of the Bikram series; however, there are a couple of postures that I continue to struggle with and the degree of improvement here has been slight and slow-going. And still other postures have improved significantly, but I remain “stuck” at a certain point, unable to progress further. This truth is, it’s not that the progress is  stunted or that I won’t continue to improve in these areas; it’s simply that these postures are improving incrementally and at a slower rate than the others.

Life is like this. Sometimes things just “click” and improvements are swift and apparent. Other things give us difficulty for long periods of time and the growth is not obvious, but nevertheless, it’s happening. Hold on to the intention to improve and the faith that you will, and don’t allow yourself to be discouraged by continual struggle; you’ll only be that much more grateful for the improvement when you can finally see it.

 

 

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Finding Home

October 23rd, 2011 · The Yoga Diaries, Uncategorized

We’ve all heard the adage, “home is where the heart is.” But I’ve found that home is actually in the heart.

I’ve moved around a lot — I’ve lived in nearly 20 different houses in 25 years — and when people ask me where home is, I tend to hesitate slightly. I grew up mostly in Lethbridge, Alberta but I’ve lived in Vancouver, BC for the past five years. And truth be told, I’ve always felt more at home in Vancouver than I ever did in Lethbridge. That being said, I’ve often felt “homeless” or unsettled when I’ve been very much physically settled in a place. I’ve purchased my own furniture, put art on the walls and stocked my kitchen cabinets with more wares than I’ve ever found the motivation or occasion to use. One pet became three, and slowly but surely, my circle of friends has expanded. But none of this, no amount of things and people collected, was enough to make me feel at home, or grounded and stable, because I hadn’t first found that in my heart.

On my first night in the hotel room that would be my home for the next nine weeks during Teacher Training, a wave of panic suddenly swept over me. “This is not mine. This stuff is unfamiliar. Oh wow, that art is hideous. There’s not enough light in here.” And then, “What if my roommate is weird? Annoying? Messy? Smelly? What if I hate her?!” With a thousand more disjointed and anxious thoughts racing through my mind, I hurriedly unpacked my suitcases, trying to plant my roots as much as possible. With hardly a moment’s rest after I hung my last article of clothing in the closet, a sudden heaviness led me right into bed and underneath the covers where I started to weep softly. I was lonely. I was afraid. And I didn’t know what to do about it. After a few more minutes of feeling sorry for myself I decided to head down to the hotel lounge to surround myself with other travelers, hoping for a little comfort in the only commonality I could easily identify, but still feeling too meek to make any conversation beyond, “Do you have any vegan items on the menu?”

The next day I headed back down to the lounge to try to soothe myself with a cup of coffee, and right away I spotted some familiar faces. I felt better (a little, but not much). Lecture followed, then the meeting of the roomie (and what a relief! She was none of the things I feared she might be), and finally, after a busy and stressful day, it was time to crash. As I lied in bed, the feelings of loneliness, fear and anxiety I had been experience since my arrival remained with me. They followed me right into the hot room the next day during our first class and only intensified as the temperature climbed and the humidity hung over us like a hot, wet blanket.

We’re now halfway through week 3 and I’ve finally found a way to feel at home anywhere, any time, in even the most oppressive conditions and uncomfortable situations. Lying on my sweat-soaked towel in a massive room in a hotel in LA, surrounded by over 400 people, most of them strangers, I feel perfectly content on my 6′x2′ mat. I’m practicing non-attachment, not being bound by my desires and fears, and it’s allowing me to feel at peace in my body, anywhere I may be.

When we seek peace and contentment outside of ourselves, we will always be left unfulfilled. We should feel secure in our own hearts, wherever we go, and find comfort from within rather than grasping at external comforts, which are always impermanent and will leave us feeling empty again when the temporary satisfaction fades away.

Give yourself love and make friends with yourself. If you don’t like yourself yet, keep trying (and do more yoga! It helps considerably). You will be wherever you go, so learn how to “just be” and find peace from within. Home is in the heart.

 

 

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The Invitation

October 23rd, 2011 · Inspired, The Yoga Diaries

In the last class she taught before leaving for India, Rajashree read to us (during final savasana) a beautiful poem by Oriah Mountain Dreamer that illustrates the importance of shedding the false identity we develop throughout our lives in the interest of getting in touch with the true Self, as well as living each moment fully and fearlessly, finding and embracing the incredible and unrealized potential that resides within us all.

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

 

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Just Eat the Grass

October 23rd, 2011 · The Yoga Diaries

I had a personal victory this morning in the AM class, and I feel like it’s given me new life.

I’ve been fighting off a cold or flu for the past few days and it’s made getting through an already extremely difficult class feel nearly impossible. I’ve had a pounding headache, chills, and a major lack of energy, and I woke up this morning feeling very anxious and concerned that the figurative “kill yourself” would become literal for me.

But I reminded myself of one of the topics of last night’s lecture: mind control (as in your own, not others’). Bikram spoke about our ability to choose the way we view our personal experience, and the importance of meditation in this practice.  I think I’ve been so focused on the physical aspect of the yoga that I’ve allowed myself to become overwhelmed by all of the physical sensations (i.e.: “I have to pee!”, “I’m gonna puke!”, “Omg I’m passing out!”, “Are they serious with this heat?!”, “My hips hurt so bad!”, etc.).

Even though I felt worse this morning than I have since I began feeling sick, I set my intention right from the get-go to simply make it through the class without leaving the room. I focused on every single breath — each inhale, every exhale — and tried to fill my lungs with as much oxygen as possible. I gave myself as much love and comfort as I needed in each moment, repeating in my head, “I am love, I am peace.” When I felt as though my head would explode or my bladder might burst and I wanted nothing more than to hightail it out of that crazy-hot room, I assured myself, “Everything isalready okay. There is only now. I am present in this moment.” When it felt like my body was engulfed in flames, I imagined I was swimming with dolphins, seals, and turtles in a cool, sparkling ocean with a million stars shining above me. When I became angry or sad or frustrated, I forced my lips into a smile and stared at my face until I believed the happiness I was initially feigning.

It was a practice in creating my own reality, and I proved to myself, over and over, that it is entirely possible.

We were told a story the other day about a zebra that had survived a vicious lion attack just the day before and was left with huge, gaping wounds in its hindquarter. But in that moment, it was totally unfazed by the massive wounds and was entirely focused on the present task: just eating the grass.

Everything is transient, and this yoga reminds us every day of the importance of living only in the present moment, letting go of everything that has already passed and doesn’t serve us anymore. So when your personal struggle seems unbearable, remind yourself to just eat the grass: this too shall pass.

“Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but…life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.” ~Gabriel Garcia Marquez

 

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You Can’t Always Get What You Want…

October 23rd, 2011 · The Yoga Diaries


…But if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need!

Last spring (2011) I made the decision to go to Bikram Yoga Teacher Training (BYTT) in LA. I was beyond excited to embark on my journey, pursuing a career that I had only ever dreamed about but never thought could become a reality. I bounced through the airport and up to the Customs booth where my dream-come-true quickly became my worst nightmare: I was refused entry to the US. The Customs agents said I needed a student visa, and although I found out shortly thereafter this was untrue, my journey ended before it even began. I was devastated, but determined to find a solution to this unforeseeable problem. The team at BY Headquarters was very sympathetic and supportive, and assured me they would honor my tuition for the fall training session.

I began Karma Cleaning at the studio and within a month I joined the front desk crew. I was then offered the role of General Manager and seized this amazing opportunity, one that would not have arisen had I made it through to LA last spring.

Finally, after five months of anticipation, I was ready to try for the second time to make it to LA for the fall session of BYTT. I was so nervous that I would be refused entry again — even with my massive stack of paperwork supporting my ties to Canada — that I threw up in a garbage can at the airport (sorry, TMI) and felt like my heart was pounding through my chest as I neared the dreaded Customs booth. Unsurprisingly, I was sent to the secondary questioning room and grilled for a second time. And after what felt like days but was only about one hour, I was permitted entry. I have never felt such relief and overwhelming joy like I did in that moment.

We have just finished week one of training, and the main lesson so far (from the first time around when I didn’t make it through and felt like my dreams had been shattered, to the end of this intense first week) has been to let go of all expectations and trust that each and every moment is playing out exactly as it should be.

My practice has been nothing like it was back home, and every time I feel like I’ve got a handle on things, I’m slapped in the face with the realization that expecting, planning, and anticipating is nothing more than a colossal waste of time. I’m trusting in the Universe and this surreal experience, understanding and accepting that every day is full of new surprises, and even if they don’t make any sense at the time, eventually I’ll be able to put the pieces together and look back on the big, beautiful, complete picture.

If spring 2011 had been the right time for me to attend teacher training, it would have worked out. But here I am now, giving thanks to the Universe for taking care of me and feeling so blessed for every moment of this amazing experience, blood, sweat, tears, and all.

 

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As I Lay Dying

October 23rd, 2011 · Inspired, The Yoga Diaries

I’m dying. I must be dying, because my life is flashing before my eyes. Well, “flashing” is not totally accurate: my life is floating before my eyes, the landscape of my memory refusing to fade, not forgetting any line or curve, nor any corner or edge. Scenes linger for longer than is comfortable, rebirthed and imprinting themselves on my consciousness.

But why can’t I get a nice flashback on which to float along blissfully for a while? All that comes up are the painful memories I thought I’d successfully vanquished years ago, buried deep in my subconscious, their haunting appearing only in the subtleties of my existence, no one the wiser.

And now, here they are, confronting me at a moment of vulnerability, reminding me that a turned cheek does not erase a point in history.

Here, in fr0nt of me and showing no signs of fading is all the sadness, fear, confusion, and anger from my past that I’d tried to keep locked away, creeping in without invitation, challenging me for a reaction. I know they’re not going to disappear without my acceptance, so I halfheartedly invite them to stay.

I say hello to these old memories and tell them to make themselves comfortable. But they don’t budge: they just hang there — moments suspended in time — until I accept them each completely and unconditionally as an important part of my personal road map and move along to the next destination.

In savasana, dead body pose, these are the thoughts that race across my mind. For so long I’ve been blessed with peaceful, calm, clean meditation, but it seems I was only going so deep into my subconscious and not properly exorcising my demons of the past. I finally make peace with this old shit storm of emotional attachment that has been (unbeknownst to me) changing the course of my life, and I ride the wave of change, liberated and energized.

It’s this shadow side — the part of me that I try so hard to disregard, to write off as a minor defect — that has gripped onto the ragged corners of my life I’ve left hanging about and refused to be ignored.  It’s this shadow side that I’ve refused to accept and acknowledge until now, that I finally understand in this moment. It’s this shadow side that illuminates and liberates the peace and freedom of spirit that has been almost-there-but-not-quite for so long, and can finally go all the way, through forgetting and remembering; through forgiveness, no longer begrudged; beyond phony peace and forced silence, banishing that terrible guise that kept it all under wraps, ashamed.

In this moment I watch peacefully as all the pretenses slip away and the armor falls down into a heap of junk metal, no longer useful. I begin to rebuild myself, armed now with patience and acceptance, a soothing confidence that everything is okay just the way it is, and pure, unfettered love. This is a new love, flexible and transcending, able to absorb all of time into one finite moment: this is peace.

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Can’t Mess With Fate

August 5th, 2011 · Uncategorized

I was lounging on my balcony, reading a book and enjoying the afternoon sun when I heard Tuna meowing excitedly. I rolled over and saw her proudly carrying a moth around in her mouth. Lucy hurried over to get a piece of the action and the two of them proceeded to hunt and play with this poor, unsuspecting moth.

I was torn as to whether or not I should interfere and try to save the moth from it’s ill fate. On one hand, it was nice to see my two girls playing together so well, and I knew they weren’t being intentionally cruel; it’s simply in their nature to hunt insects. On the other hand, it was really difficult to watch that moth be mauled (quite slowly, at that) by these two ferocious beasts, so I initiated the rescue mission. I gently picked up the moth, held it in my hands and walked it over to the ledge of the balcony, to apparent safety. But just as I put it down on the ledge, a vigilant spider crawled over and commenced it’s attack on the weary moth. The moth seemed to accept it’s fate and let the spider do it’s work; I, too, let it be.

 

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And then, summer rain…

July 5th, 2011 · Arts and Culture, Inspired

I awoke a couple of nights ago to the sound of rain at my window. Living in Vancouver, this is a sound I’m very familiar with and it usually passes through my auditory system and Wernicke’s area with scarcely more than a moment’s thought. This sound is mostly background noise to me, but sometimes it brings me down. Winters in Vancouver are long and grey and very wet, and I wait impatiently through the eight-or-so months of rain for summer to come so that I can get reacquainted with the sun.

But on this night I felt so at peace and moved by the gentle pitter-pattering of raindrops on glass that I likely fell back to sleep with a smile stretched across my face. It was comforting and refreshing; I felt a sense of renewal, rebirth, regeneration. I was tucked warmly in my bed, but I felt more connected to the rain than I ever had.

I’m currently reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog, which is a beautifully written book by Muriel Barbery that I highly recommend you read, and in Chapter 17, A New Heart, she describes a summer rain with incredible poetic depth and color and perfectly articulates the feelings that particular summer rain evoked in me.

And then, a summer rain…

Do you know what a summer rain is?
To start with, pure beauty striking the summer sky, awe-filled respect absconding with your heart, a feeling of insignificance at the very heart of the sublime, so fragile and swollen with the majesty of things, trapped, ravished, amazed by the bounty of the world.
And then, you pace up and down the corridor and suddenly enter a room full of light. Another dimension, a certainty just given birth. The body is no longer a prison, your spirit roams the clouds, you possess the power of water, happy days are in store, in this new birth.
Just as teardrops, when they are large and round and compassionate, can leave a long strand washed clean of discord, the summer rain as it washes away the motionless dust can bring to a person’s soul something like endless breathing.

That is the way a summer rain can take hold in you — like a new heart, beating in time with another’s.

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Lay it Down

July 3rd, 2011 · Arts and Culture, The Yoga Diaries

Not so, not so, no load of woe
need bring despairing frown;
for while we bear it, we can bear it.
Past that, we lay it down.

~Sarah Williams

Illustration by Graham Franciose

My mother passed on to me some wonderful qualities, and others…well, I wish they would have sunk to the bottom of the gene pool.  One of the less desirable traits I’ve inherited from my dearest momsy is my tendency to over-analyze, particularly in situations where my thought and attention has no effect on an outcome.  (Read: massive waste of time.)

In the past, I’ve spent so much time wrapped up in the why and how of different situations that I’ve actually made myself physically ill. There have been hundreds of studies on the effect of stress on the human body, and the consensus is that it’s bad: very, very bad. I can attest to this.

The last couple of months have taken me on an emotional roller coaster ride. The most difficult situation I’ve faced, and probably the beginning of all of the drama, was being denied entry to the States when I tried to fly into LA for Bikram Yoga Teacher Training this spring. I was beyond excited to embark on this adventure and I cheerfully bounced through the airport all the way to Customs. The first officer I encountered asked me a few basic questions and joked around a bit with me, then said, “You’ve been randomly selected for a baggage check!” I made some lame joke about lucking out, then proceeded to the next room where my dreams would shortly be shattered. After hours of being asked the same questions over and over and providing the same (honest) answers, I was denied entry and told I needed a student visa, and even though that turned out to be untrue, my life was turned upside-down in an instant and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I was a mess. I sat in the holding area of airport Customs bawling and shaking, unsure of what to do next. I had nowhere to live, no job to go back to, and no money in my account. I had just spent thousands of dollars on a training program I thought I may never be able to do, as the tuition was nonrefundable and I knew I wouldn’t be able to come up with that sum of money again any time in the near future. I was emotionally exhausted, terrified, and desperate, so I did a ridiculously stupid and naive thing and tried to drive across the border. They caught me, threatened to charge me with a federal offense, and then let me sit and contemplate the error of my ways for about five hours. Finally, after an unnecessarily long and condescending lecture on my stupidity, I was told they were going to do me a favor and not throw me in jail or ban me from entering the US indefinitely, but the next time I try to cross the border (and it better not be for at least six months, young lady) I must have sufficient documentation to prove that I have a place to live, a job to return to, and money in my account, and if I don’t adequately satisfy these requirements, I’ll be rejected once again, and then barred from entering the States for five years.

Since my ex had agreed to stay at my place and take care of my three fur babies while I was away, I was able to get back into my apartment two weeks following the fiasco, so I was a homeless couch-surfer for only a short time. But after my living crisis was sorted, I was faced with a financial crisis. I didn’t have work for a full month and I was living off of half my usual income with nearly twice my regular expenses (as is the case when your partner moves out of your shared apartment), so I really struggled to make ends meet. There was also some drama in my personal life, and at times I felt very overwhelmed by all the difficulty I was facing. My stress-related stomach problems returned, and once I again I was fighting with a health issue that had plagued me for six months earlier in the year and I thought I had beaten once and for all.

I knew I would fall apart if I held on to the stress and fear I was experiencing: my peace was contingent upon my ability to let go.

Many people perceive the notion of “letting go” as complacency, laziness and passivity, but this is not the case: letting go is an active choice to live in the present without the restriction of rumination. It is is the practice of non-judgmental observation and non-attachment, of careful awareness and mindfulness. Letting go is empowering and freeing; it enables us to tackle adversity with the confidence that we are strong enough to watch it pass and witness the impermanence of suffering. Letting go requires mental acuity and determination, but also gentleness, patience, and the understanding that negative responses need not be avoided or feared, but simply experienced and then released. It’s not about controlling or ignoring your emotions; it is about observing and accepting their existence, then simply relinquishing the hold on anything that isn’t benefiting you. It is very challenging, but equally rewarding.

Often when we are struggling with a difficult situation, well-meaning people will offer the encouragement, “Everything will be okay.” True as that may be, it doesn’t make the present suffering any easier to bear. What I tell myself instead in times of struggle is, “Everything is already okay.”

“We can’t control the wind, but we can learn how to sail better.”
~Lama Surya Das

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Veganize to Downsize

May 26th, 2011 · Vegan Recipes

For dinner tonight I had a colorful salad, peas and corn, and a few gardein vegan buffalo wings. While the buffalo wings were baking I decided to busy myself by reading the nutritional information on the package. It’s no shocker that the majority of vegan food is pretty healthy (or at least not unhealthy), but I was surprised by how little calories and fat are in one serving of these delicious impostors.

Since I’m a bit of a vainglorious vegan, I like to boast a little about how much healthier vegan food is than non-vegan food. So here’s a nutritional comparison of gardein buffalo wings and McDonald’s chicken McNuggets:

gardein buffalo wings:                       Chicken McNuggets:
Serving Size: 4 pieces (72 g)                             Serving Size: 4 pieces (76 g)
Calories: 90                                                              Calories: 208
Fat: 2 g                                                                        Fat: 13.6 g
Saturated and trans fat: 0 g                               Saturated and trans fat: 6.3g (32% DV)
Sodium: 330 mg                                                     Sodium: 448 mg
Total carbs: 4 g                                                       Total carbs: 13.6 g
Protein: 15 g                                                             Protein: 10.4 g
Iron: 20% DV                                                          Iron: 4% DV

Okay, let’s review: the gardein wings have less than half the calories of the McNuggets, nearly seven times less fat (and zero saturated and trans fats, as compared to 32% of your daily value), almost 150% as much protein, and five times more iron. Also, gardein wings aren’t made with the monstrosity known as “pink sludge” (or mechanically separated meat), which basically consists of all the parts of a chicken we wouldn’t normally eat (bone marrow, connective tissue, skin, etc.) and a lot of toxic chemicals and artificial flavoring to make it slightly less disgusting.

(*McDonald’s claims they no longer use MSM in their nuggets, though they certainly did in the past, and even if they truly cut this nastiness from their product, they’re still an evil empire contributing the global obesity epidemic.)

Sources for nutritional information:

http://www.gardein.com/products.php?t=frozen&p=1

http://www.mcdonalds.ca/en/food/calculator.aspx

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