Edges, Yoga and The Unknown

 I am fascinated by edges, by what’s possible in this human form. How far can we push our bodies? What is the limit of our intellectual and psychic capacity? Where do we begin to meet mental limits? I am certain that we all have far more capacity than we can possibly understand and our limits are just that, our own imaginations. I know because I’ve played on those edges, and I’ve been witness to thousands of people doing more than they thought imaginable.

 

The going beyond – some is possible because of sheer willpower, another is because of doing something that matters, and sometimes it’s simply never been tried.  Beyond that is just surrendering to the moment. And then there’s Grace, and allowing things to happen, getting out of our own way. To put it another in a bumper sticker form – “Let Go and Let God” (in whatever form God means to you).

 

My perspective comes primarily from several decades of being involved with ultra-endurance sports. Cycling events that last 12, 18, 36 hours and longer; running events that are multiple stages; adventure races that span a week. I’ve been a race and participant, event organizer, race director, volunteer, coach, and trainer. I know the realms of endurance and edges and pushing farther as well as anyone.

 

When we go to edges, we go to the unknown. We can see the horizon, but to go beyond the horizon that is something else. Do we stay in what we see and know, or do we try something new, something unknown?

 

For the past several years my favorite yoga classes, primarily taught by Kelly Larson, Kirsten Warner, and Sofia Diaz, have been very hard for me to describe and put in words. They are not the flow of vinyasa, they are not the 26 pose sequence of Bikram, they are not prop-based Iyengar, they are not the quiet of yin. They have elements of Hatha Yoga, but that’s only a start. We use familiar poses, and there is always something new. In these classes we often hold poses for a longer period of time, sometimes minutes. Some of them are more traditional poses, some are ones I’m never done in any other class, some are from the Qi Gong tradition. Many of them generate a lot of heat, most give the muscles a good burn!

The teachers and the poses draw on our devotion and inspiration to shine as who we are.

 

While we hold these poses, I often hear the idea that ‘the yoga’ begins when you want out of the pose. When doing ultra-endurance sports, you inevitably reach a point during a race or a ride where you wonder ‘What the hell am I doing here? Why?’ That’s when everything changes.

 

One of the best pieces of advice I ever received was during a race when I reached that point of quitting, my coach said ‘just one more mile and then you can stop.’ It was the fall of 1997 and I was racing the Furnace Creek 508, a nonstop 500 mile bike race through Death Valley. The race did not start well for me. About 14 hours into the race I was riding at night on an uphill in front my support vehicle when I just stopped in the middle of the road and hung my head. My coach was in the support van as part of my crew, so he came out and asked what was wrong. I said I was done – done with cycling, done with endurance sports, I was ready to quit and go home. His reply was simple: ‘ok, that’s fine. Just ride another mile first’. I was far too tired and out of it to argue, so I continued. A mile later apparently I had forgotten what was so important just a few minutes earlier. (I did finish the race.)

 

In a similar way during these yoga classes, the teachers know the thoughts are mounting to want to move out of the pose. The teachers invite us to take one more breath, to hold for just one more second. To remain in the heat, to feel the burn. To relax and surrender into it, and do it for something that matters. In that same instant of wanting to release from the posture you are stepping into the edge, breathing into the unknown, a place you’ve never been before. Reaching into the unknown is an element of the power of it, it is also the grace of it, and it’s a place we often move with fear.

 

Hardly anyone begins down the path of ultra-endurance sports with the idea of going far in mind. Most start small and make incremental steps. At some point most people reach there desired goal, and in fact don’t know there’s more.  And there are the handful who continue on. Of course no one tells you what you’re really in for – edges, transformation, discovering your power, surrender into the moment, finding the unknown – all in a relatively subtle, and yet fully lived, reality of the sport and the moments.

 

These yoga classes I love so much have a similar feel. It’s not a place to start for most and no one is deliberately aiming for them, but once you do one you’ll know if it calls to you. It’s difficult to describe what actually happens and why I keep going, though somehow I may have just given it a feel.

 

Almost everyone I know who has embarked down the course of these yoga classes or ultra-endurance sports is immensely enriched in spirit, in personality, in their being by their experience.

 

This is a rare piece that is cathartic in its own way for me, as I find a piece of why I’m drawn in. In that same recognition, I appreciate why some people dip their toe in and find other pursuits.

 

I’m drawn to the edges, to the unknown. As I’m sure I will always be.

The horizon is but a line to be crossed, not a limit to be reached. Hope to see you on the other side of the horizon.

 

Transitions

For those of you who’ve been to a yoga class, have you ever noticed some of the amazingly beautiful, graceful, gorgeous transitions some women artfully express as they move from one posture to the next? If I wasn’t doing the practice myself, I imagine I would just watch with awe and wonder.

There’s a part of me that wishes my transitions had a similar quality, and I’m fully aware that what I see and admire is not my style. So I awkwardly play around with my transitions, hoping to surrender to what might want to reveal itself. To this point, I’m not terribly satisfied  with the changes from my pose to the pose.

Recently I asked Kirsten Werner about this. I made the same comment about the transitions, and how can I, as a man, express a transition in my own way, in a more masculine way. I loved her answer. What she said was that transitions were just as much a form of posture as the postures themselves. That they have their own alignment, their own intention. Just as every posture has a prescribed form with many variations, every transition is similar, but rarely spoken about. So she encouraged me to approach the transitions with a similar mindset as I do with the asanas.

Around the same time as I spoke with Kirsten, I was given an ‘assignment’ from Sofia Diaz – to notice every transition for 24 hours. Notice my own energy, notice the energy of the new environment, and notice how they blend together. And I did it. It was amazing to notice how many transitions there really are, that we rarely think about. Even as we walk about our own home, we transition from a kitchen into a hallway through a doorway, into a bedroom and so on. The transitions are endless, even down to every breath, every blink, every footstep. It was a remarkable exercise to notice all that.

As I’ve ruminated on transitions and yoga, I also remembered something about some very core energies of the masculine and feminine. An essential feminine energy is flow, movement – which is exactly what transitions are in yoga. They are the yoga between the yoga asanas themselves. It’s no wonder women are so naturally expressive in that space. A fundamental masculine energy is stillness and groundedness – which is exactly what the yoga asanas themselves usually are. I am much more comfortable with a yoga practice that involves holding poses longer, and in the very rare times I’ve been in a yoga class with all men, that’s what we do a lot of.

With these ideas I’ve been bringing more of the awareness and surrender I often feel in a pose into the transitions themselves. To feel them completely, to notice how my body naturally moves, to listen to the changing energies with the movement.

One of my favorite ideas is the more I know, the less I know. I’m not sure if that’s a quote from somewhere, but it always resonates with me. Each nugget of information I learn reveals dozens or hundreds of nuggets attached to that one bit, especially since knowledge is as interconnected and relationship as people are. I had some idea that yoga it a spacious body of knowledge, wisdom, and practice – and yet each new morsel reveals so much more that’s available. So it is with transitions as well.

On to something new, again!

The Only One

As I’ve been to more yoga practices in the past three months, I’ve come upon a curious situation. In about a third of the classes I’ve gone to, I’m the only man present!

For my work with computers, it’s entirely the opposite. In the office I’m in, it’s more than 90% men. In fact most of my life at work has been like that. I’ve had the experience of being in environments that are mostly women, but it’s unusual. At one point for a year I was a manager with six women reporting to me, so I am familiar with some of the energies and dynamics – but with yoga it’s different.

There are many things striking me about the unusual nature of being the only man in a yoga practice.

For me, it’s been an opportunity to feel my own energy and being in relation to such a potent, focused feminine energy. As the solo-man thing has happened more and more, I am noticing different aspects. There’s the question of what is my energy right now. Another question of what do I want my energy to be. Then the feeling and question of what’s the energy in the room like. And how do I relate to that energy, or fit it the energy, or sit in that energy, or even bump up against that energy. It’s different every time.

I remember when this really started to become a curiosity for me, and then reflecting back on what I had naturally felt and done. The practice was a small one, 7 of us total including the teacher. I felt my energy as being good, but not deeply seated as it sometimes is. I began to wonder about how did I want it to feel and I sensed I wanted to bring forth more of my energy. As I started to do so, I could feel my energy bumping into and even somewhat being resisted by the energy from the women in the room. So I felt that energy and while it wasn’t forceful it had a beautiful, soft, comforting, and even deep, rhythm to it that didn’t want to be disturbed. Then I just melted into that energy and what a difference that made as the class flowed so well in that space.

I’ve also noticed that where I am physically with the room can make a difference as well. If I’m in or very near the middle, it’s much easier to be in a masculine type energy and hold the space with the feminine around me. If I’m on the edge, it’s easy for me to be on the edge – noticing the fuzzy boundaries and holding my place while not being pushed out of the container. Other areas feel more challenging as I’m not quick sure where to land between the center or the edge, and in some of those cases, as in the above class, I just melt in.

I notice when a man or masculine energy isn’t really expected or wanted. As if the class has a general tendency towards all women, and then unexpectedly a man is there. I also notice the opposite, when there’s a welcoming sense to having a man present.

It’s a bit like being a minority. I’ve been in foreign countries where being white is certainly a minority – Vietnam, Tanzania, Peru. I know I stand out, and yet I don’t recall feeling as much of a difference in those situations as I do in a yoga class as the only man. Maybe it’s the concentrated, engaged energy, maybe it’s the small space. Maybe I really do stand out that much.

It’s a space for me to play. To know my strengths and energies – and the differences. To know when I’m strong and can meet a roomful of women. To know when to be a graceful man in a field of feminine. When and how to hold a boundary or maybe resist, or to join what’s arising, or to contain and hold. It’s a fun exploration I’ll continue to play with as the only one!

42 Days

Just before Christmas I began 30 days of yoga after being inspired by a conversation over Thanksgiving. Really I figured once I got past about 20 days, getting all the way through January would be doable and make it an even 6 weeks straight of yoga every day. What a great experience it’s been!

I laughed, cried, and smiled.

Surprisingly, I danced several times.

For several classes, I was a completely dripping – hot yoga is not my favorite thing.

Getting up at 5:30 for a yoga class is not my favorite thing either.

I was able to do a whole bunch of poses I’ve never even seen before, much less tried on my own.

A hot yoga class after a root canal does wonders.
More than once I was the only male in the class. And at least once I was the oldest.

After a while I started to be able to find a flow at home doing yoga on my own.

I learned to get over being self conscious about taking my shirt off when it was hot in class.

For an entire class, I felt complete stillness and how amazing that was.

Learning to pace day after day was part of the learning and challenge, and I believe I mostly worked it out.

A two and a half hour class is a lot of yoga – and I was able to do it.

And two classes in one day is also a lot – and it was fun.

Everything about my practice is different – I can bend, twist, and stretch more than before. I can breathe deeper and in more places. My core is stronger. I know I feel different from six weeks ago though I couldn’t exactly say what the difference is – but I like it!

I’m grateful to all the teachers and studios I experienced over the past six weeks – Amy Benton, Nikki Rogers, Jeff Bailey, Steph Uvalle, Stephen Uvalle, Jeannie Manchester, Brenda Wong, Angela Grace, Barb Beard Passalacqua, Michelle Anderson, Camden Hock, Livia Shapiro, Sasha Cohen, Patrick, Jack, Valerie D’Ambrosio, and Sofia Diaz.

A special thanks to Kirsten Warner for such great support and insight.

Now it’s time to wash some clothes and my mat! And as much as I’ve enjoyed this, I’ve missed running, so it’s time to put on those shoes and head back onto the trails and balance out running and yoga.

30 Days of Yoga - Begins Now

At a Thanksgiving celebration I had a brief conversation with a woman there about yoga, which was our common connection with the host. In the conversation she said that at one point she had done 30 consecutive days of yoga and it had been quite profound. It was one thought that somehow didn’t seem to fit the conversation, but it was that one idea that has stuck with me ever since. It’s been ringing around in my head and perhaps moreso it’s been settling deeply into my body. I hadn’t committed to the idea, yet I seemed to be heading right down those tracks.

Yesterday I sat with Kirsten Warner for an hour as we talked about 30 consecutive days of yoga, what my intentions were, what I could focus on, what could help me. One question she asked was why. Why do 30 days of yoga, what did I want to get out of it? I related the conversation above, and part of my answer was curiosity. It some ways the question of why seems like asking why I’ve done all the extreme sports I’ve done. It’s because of a deeper resonance and a deeper calling. To touch and reach edges.

As the conversation progressed she said, ‘this will change your life.’ She offered this quote from John O’Donahue:

"Once you start to awaken, however, nothing or no one can ever claim you again, pull you back into old patterns. Once you start to awaken, you know how precious your time here—on earth, in this body—is. You are no longer willing to squander your essence on undertakings that do not nourish your true self; your patience grows thin with tired talk and dead language. You see through the rosters of expectation that promise you safety and the confirmations of your outer identity. Now you are impatient for growth, willing to put yourself in the way of change. You want your work to become an expression of your innate gifts. You want your relationships to voyage beyond the pallid frontiers to where the danger of transformation dwells. You want your God to be wild and to call you to where your destiny awaits."

So it is I’ve begun 30 days of yoga with a class this morning – with a sense of edginess, even a sense of fear, and a deep realizing that this is what’s right. I’m diving in on this auspicious Winter Solstice 2012 and galactic alignment.

One last thought before closing out this blog. As we finished the yoga class today, the song One by U2 played. The lyrics seemed right on for the moment and the day:

Is it getting better

Or do you feel the same

Will it make it easier on you now

You got someone to blame

You say...

One love

One life

When it's one need

In the night

One love

We get to share it

Leaves you baby if you

Don't care for it

Did I disappoint you

Or leave a bad taste in your mouth

You act like you never had love

And you want me to go without

Well it's...

Too late

Tonight

To drag the past out into the light

We're one, but we're not the same

We get to

Carry each other

Carry each other

One...

Have you come here for forgiveness

Have you come to raise the dead

Have you come here to play Jesus

To the lepers in your head

Did I ask too much

More than a lot

You gave me nothing

Now it's all I got

We're one

But we're not the same

Well we

Hurt each other

Then we do it again

You say

Love is a temple

Love a higher law

Love is a temple

Love the higher law

You ask me to enter

But then you make me crawl

And I can't be holding on

To what you got

When all you got is hurt

One love

One blood

One life

You got to do what you should

One life

With each other

Sisters

Brothers

One life

But we're not the same

We get to

Carry each other

Carry each other

One...life

One