Monday, May 20, 2013


My friend, mentor, and master of purpose, Mike, told me soon after I started teaching (and I'm paraphrasing) "Congrats!  Now, can you sub for me on ..."  It was meant in jest, but it was an accurate representation of the environment a new yoga teacher is suddenly immersed in once he or she begins to teach.

Illness, injury, vacation, and fatigue, friends from out of town, or multi-person swaps all become reasons why schedules are shuffled.  Those of us who are green and new to the experience are all too apt to pick up extra classes.  Those who have been teaching for a long time seem to be less apt to fall on their swords, perhaps having already done so on many occasions only to reach burnout and exhaustion themselves.

There is a tangible excitement to being a part of something which is growing, even when that growth seems at times out of control.

In the midst of it all, however, true colors are seen.  Some of the experienced, some of the leaders, step forward to help others and take charge.  The intricacies of how words are expressed, of how people help each other, becomes a microcosm of life, of society, of interaction.

It all continues to enlighten me.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013


I had a dream last night.  During this dream, I spoke with my mother.

The discussion centered on weight, how she did not want me to see her thinned down from chemo, how she would have preferred that I saw her healthy and fleshy as I had in the past.

There was also some strange contraption set up to catch rainwater and add lemon juice.  In an attempt to feel a closer connection, I grabbed the container and attempted to pour the contents into my mouth.  I somehow missed and soaked my chest without tasting even a drop.  My mother appeared and demonstrated how to drink for me, as if I never knew how.  It seemed so obvious once she showed me how.  I wondered why I found it difficult in the first place.

Perhaps this yoga fascination, both as teacher and student, has a tie to my lost mother, the mother I haven't been able to speak to for almost 20 years now.  Perhaps the learning and sharing and the exploration of new without leaving the room is exactly what that mother to child connection meant to me back when it was accessible to me.

I'm not terribly sure, as with all dreams, they tend to ask more questions than they answer.

Happy Mother's Day to everyone:  moms, dads, sons, daughters.