Great White Shark Pose?
Sometimes I contemplate the many names of yoga poses that are for animals and how and when that influences my asana practice.

Sometimes I contemplate the many names of yoga poses that are for animals and how and when that influences my asana practice.

Dear Friends ,
This weekend I will be celebrating our local Anusara community at the weekend workshops in College Park, Maryland with John Friend. I look forward to seeing many of you there. My good friend Jane, who in honor of Thanksgiving donated the sub fee to S.O.M.E (So Others Might Eat)., will be covering my gentle/therapeutics this Saturday at Willow Street. It’s sure to be full of gentleness and nurture, so check it out if you’re in town and won’t be at the weekend workshops.
On Thursday, I will be leading my ninth annual Thanksgiving Day yoga class for the benefit of Oxfam. It will be at Willow Street’s Takoma Park studio from 10-11:30am. The more the merrier, so bring yourselves, your family, and your friends. For those of you who remember the days when you brought a check and I mailed them in, my matching donation of up to $200 still applies even with the convenience of being able to register and pay on line at Willow Street. Registration in advance is appreciated as it helps us get ready for you, but drop-ins are most welcome, too.
I’ll be teaching all of my regular classes next week and not only celebrating Thanksgiving, but also sharing the abundance of energy from the weekend with John Friend and all of our wonderful Anusara community. Stop by on Tuesday night to set your intention for the holiday or complete it with gentle/therapeutics at noon on Saturday at Willow Street. As always, friends and family are welcome to drop in.
I hope to see many of you for some of this outrageously abundant yoga feast. If you will be traveling, may it be safe and joyous.
Peace and light,
Elizabeth
This morning when I stepped out into the back garden, I heard the sound of clippers on the other side of the fence. It was my back garden neighbor of over 15 years. “Is that you?” I asked. “Yes,” was the reply and we both walked up onto our decks so we could see across the fences. “It must be summer,” my neighbor said, in acknowledgment of it being the first morning of the season we coincided in the garden. “I am so ready,” he said, and we caught up with the winter news and discussed what was going on in our gardens. I told him about Becky, marveling at her wonderful long life of 21 years. “It was time, then,” he commented. “I still miss her, though,” I replied.
Yesterday, several people said to me that they were not ready for summer. Whether people were ready (or not) for the 90 degree weather seemed to depend a lot a preference cold or warm weather.
It hardly matters whether we are ready for a shift in the seasons, the loss of a precious being, or the arrival of gray hairs and degenerative arthritis (I am finding myself not ready for any of these, really).
Life comes to us, ready or not. We can use our yoga practice, especially asana, to help us expand and shift and be prepared for whatever comes, by inviting all of our practice and our growth (which includes both expansion and contraction) a rich exploration. We can experiment with where is our edge, listening to both ourselves and our teachers to discover not only what we are ready for, but also how we react when confronted with that for which we think we are not ready. By seeking the subtle knowledge of when our mind is ahead of our body and when our mind is holding back our body, we can enhance our ability to respond to what comes in the most open, sensitive, discriminating, flexible, and thus, life-enhancing way, on and off the mat.
In the meantime, I give in to the premature summer heat. This morning, I picked spinach and herbs to go with mushrooms from the fresh farm market for breakfast and made a posy of pansies for the altar. Why leave them in the garden if they will just wilt in the heat? It was a great afternoon for a siesta and a treat to be out in the city in the morning unencumbered by sweater or jacket. For my evening practice, I will emphasize deep, cooling forward bends and pranayama. Will I be ready for the cool days to come back at the end of the week? I do not think I will have a choice.
As if–like chanting–you are saying the names of the divine. For if there is anything such as divinity, it is the spark in each and every one.

Seeing photos of my saris (which are now journeying with a friend in South India) brings memories of scents–incense and dust, burning ghee, dung and jasmine blossoms, and the feel of hot stones underneath my bare feet. There it is (evidently newly pressed) among the nagas–serpents, tendrils of myth and memory arising desires from our deepest [un]consciousness. Perhaps I will dream of such tonight.
