“HerVotes”
A list of 10 laws critical for the health and welfare of women that are in danger in this election cycle. What does it mean to you and how will you respond?
A list of 10 laws critical for the health and welfare of women that are in danger in this election cycle. What does it mean to you and how will you respond?
Dear Friends,
If your inbox and your schedule has been anything like mine, you don’t need another email to read during this busy season, so I’m keeping it short.
Last gentle/therapeutic class of this session at Willow Street is Friday, December 14th. Make-ups and drop-ins, friends and family, warmly welcomed. We’ll do some strengthening and stretching and then stretch out into a series of restorative poses to honor the Willow Street tradition and to get ready for the holidays.
No William Penn House classes on either Christmas Day or New Year’s Day. Classes run through December 18th and start again on January 8th. As always, please don’t let means keep you away. The already favorable pricing for the class, with a portion of the proceeds from each student going to benefit the work of William Penn House, is just a suggested amount. The more the merrier.
Classes start again with me at all locations Wednesday, January 2nd. I’ll be offering the Friday night gentle/therapeutics again at Willow Street. First class of the year is January 4th as part of Willow Street’s new $5 preview class week. To buy your $5 passes on-line and to check out the whole preview week schedule, please visit the Willow Street website. Registration for the Winter/Spring session is now open for the Friday night class; the first night of the Winter/Spring session is January 11th.
Wishing you the best of holidays–may they be full of both joyous connection and sweet time for yourself. I look forward to seeing many of you in the New Year. If the outrageous pulsation and dance of being–whether challenging or fulfilling or both–is keeping you from class, do send me a line and be in touch.
Peace and light,
Elizabeth
Last night I was thinking about what that phrase means. I was talking with a friend who has a similar enthusiasm for studying, practicing, and teaching yoga, who also has a full-time job/career. At some point in describing the number of hours I have spent studying with John Friend and other Anusara teachers, it came out of my mouth that I have been able to pursue this passionate engagement with yoga because, as others have said to me, “I don’t have a life.” My friend, being in the same society after all, initially went right along with that statement as if it was a perfectly reasonable thing to say.
Then we started questioning it. It is not as though we do not both have rich, full, engaged, active lives. How did the vernacular come up with a phrase that says we do not “have a life,” if we are not so occupied with the things that society would have us do (for the “modern” woman I think this means high-powered career, husband, children, nice house) that we have enough time and flexibility to deeply pursue and explore beyond what we are supposed to do?
My friend Dan just posted an insightful piece about the sweetly humbling (without diminishing) perspective on the single life or the whole collective human being in the context of the whole universe. It resonated with the passage I had read for group practice last Wednesday from Ramesh Menon’s rendering of the Shiva Puranas, which talks about all the units of time from a nimesha, a human moment, to the life of the highest Siva principle–an immensity of infinite time that is incomprehensible at a human consciousness level.
On the last morning of the trip, when we were standing next to the bus (how blessed we were to have a well-driven, air-conditioned bus to take us through southern India; I was most grateful and conscious of its protective bubble) getting ready to head north for Chennai, I noticed that there were limes under the wheels of the bus. I was standing next to Douglas Brooks, the leader of the trip. “Why are there limes under the wheels?” I asked. “To feed the demons,” he replied, “so that they do not feed on you. We make offering (bali dana) for auspicious memories and a safe trip home.” The offering to the demons, bali dana, recognizes, I think, that we cannot eradicate demons. We can feed them, though, avert their gaze with our offering to something they find more desirable and delicious than feeding on us.
On our last day of riding the bus, we were witness to the aftermath of a cyclone that downed trees and shut down power and tore roofs off of houses and rutted roads (thanks to all who noticed that I was in that part of the world and sent emails inquiring about our safety). When it hit, we were far enough south that all we got was a little rain. We flew out long enough after it showed, that it did not impact our flight, which went perfectly smoothly. I do not know whether putting limes under the wheels of the bus made any difference to the external flow of our trip. I do know, though, that I cannot kill off my demons; they are an essential part of me and my history. Shifting the gaze of my demons and shifting my own gaze at my demons, though, is another matter entirely. When we can turn our gaze (drishti) to the auspicious, even when looking through the eyes of our demons, that is when we can truly see what is best in things and better be able to respond with true embrace to whatever life hands us.
Dear Friends,
One of the most captivating elements of dance as artistic expression for me is that it has the capacity to show the beauty in the full range of emotions. Whether the choreographer is telling a story or sharing an impression, making a political statement or expressing a feeling, the dancer’s inherent grace can show us that there is beauty in all things, helping us through the artistic medium to abide with what might otherwise seem emotionally intolerable and to celebrate more fully that which would naturally make our hearts sing.
Since I first began practicing asana, it has been for me an embodiment of the dance. The exquisite technique of the Anusara® principles of alignment transformed healing work into a dance of exploration. The expansion of my strength and flexibility in middle age — when because of my dance history I thought only would contract with age — allowed me to express progressively more fully the joy I find in my body.
This year, John Friend’s overarching theme for his workshops and trainings around the world is “Dancing with the Divine.” The theme resonated especially fully for me because I started attending regularly last fall the Sunday contact improv jam on Capitol Hill and have been re-exploring dance after all the shifts I have made with an ever-deepening asana practice. It has been with an eye towards not only my own dance, but the connection of the community, and our dance of relationship with our living planet that I am choosing which trainings and workshops to attend this year.
When deciding what my study priorities are for the year, I look first at where my practice and teaching could benefit from some deep attention and wisdom offerings. I look to the local offerings to deepen my connection to my home community and to minimize the environmental impact of getting to be in the same room as the teacher. I am thoroughly appreciative of how wonderful it is to have a burgeoning and dedicated local community that has incredible teachers and draws others. When planning which workshops or trainings with John Friend I will attend, I look at whether there is an opportunity to combine a training with a visit to friends or family or an opportunity to see art exhibits or museums that are of particular interest to me. I like to go to any trainings that I can get to by train and, like even better when it happens, where I do not need a car once I get to the training/workshop location.
Next dance for me with the bigger community is the Anusara Grand Circle in Stratton, Vermont for the summer solstice. My heart expands with the anticipation of being in the mountains of Vermont with clear, starry nights and bright, vivid almost endless days for a gathering of fellow yoga dancers, those I already know and love, those whom I will get to know better, and those I will meet for the first time.
It is especially exciting to know I will have the opportunity to study with some of the incredible teachers in the international community I am honored to know, but from whom I have not yet had the privilege of taking a class. It is also a great opportunity to be with people who are just beginning to get excited about Anusara (gatherings like this are a great opportunity to study with John Friend without having the formal application process.)
Local yogis, I look forward to seeing you in regular class offerings in the neighborhood and Willow Street, including just until the end of May, Thursday night restorative yoga. I expect delightedly to see you, too, as fellow students at many of the incredible offerings both in and around DC and the country.
And if any of you are interested in coordinating a trip to the Grand Circle to celebrate the solstice, send me an email.
Peace and light,
Elizabeth