Renovation Yoga

Racing to the Yoga Studio

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 16:00:00 +0000

“Millions of people are suffering; they want to be loved but they don’t know how to love. And love cannot exist as a monologue; it is a dialogue, a very harmonious dialogue.”
-Osho

Racing to the yoga studio, I’ve gotten a speeding ticket. Racing to the yoga studio, I’ve cursed (they slipped). Racing to the yoga studio, I’ve cut my mom off mid-sentence while on the phone (sorry mom). Speeding and cursing and cutting people off…all while racing to get to the yoga studio. So much for the calming and relaxing benefits of the practice; so much for attaining equanimity of the mind; so much for practicing “off the mat!” I know, I know…I could leave from wherever I’m coming from 5 minutes earlier and get to the studio on time. I could simply ease into the moment and trust that whenever I arrive is when I’ll be there. Or…I could practice at home. I have the mat, I know a lot of the poses and I have a hard surface on which to practice but that just doesn’t do it for me. I am a confirmed studio junkie with road rage. There…I said it!

Jumping out of my car, I grab my mat, bolt to the studio’s door and head up the stairs. With each step, a deeper inhale fills my lungs and I begin to notice an immediate shift in my demeanor. The flurry of the day’s activities drifts away, the heaviness of the day-to-day worries that I drag around floats off with each exhale and within moments, the road rage is long forgotten. At the top of the steps, I see the reason that I race to get to the studio: fellow yogi’s and yogini’s shuffling in and out of the studio in bare feet and ponytails gathering their yogi toes and towels. Smiles and conversations simmer along the studio’s edge and the warm realization that I am welcome here is a welcome relief. Whether we know each other or not, we connect. Whether we know each other or not, we understand. Whether we know each other or not, we recognize that we are all walking along the same path. Different stories? Yes. But the path and the desire and the commitment, we share. And in this, we create community.

In Indian philosophy, assembling together with like-minded persons is called satsang (sat = truth, sanga = company). There are many other cultural philosophies, religions and customs that practice similar satsang-type gatherings…some call it church, others call them meetings and even others might call it a club. But whatever the name of the place or reason for the gathering, we gather, well, to gather. We collect and share, and feel safe in our like-minded hopes and dreams and beliefs and even our differences. We convene, we congregate, we connect.

We all showed up at the yoga studio for the first time no doubt with very different intentions. For some, yoga piqued the interest of those fitness-focused individuals who wanted to see what this latest craze was all about; they wanted a hot yoga body with ropey arms and 6-pack abs. Some noticed friends who had been practicing had a certain glow and ease about them and wanted to glow, too. For others, their friend or their spouse or their enemy dragged them reluctantly to their first class. But for many of us, we showed up broken, burned-out, empty and suffocating all at the same time.

My brother brought me to my first yoga class nearly 13 years ago and while we had a fun experience, afterwards I only occasionally went to a class here and there, inconsistent at best. Six years later, I really showed up at the studio and I was a coiled mess. Broken. Burned. Crispy cool. I spent years practicing in the back corner of the studio near the door. During my practice I remember feeling as if I couldn’t get enough air and that I needed to be by the door just in case. I didn’t chat with anyone; I didn’t exchange smiles or friendly small talk. I slipped in and I slipped out keeping my coiled mess to myself. After several years of a destructive relationship, I just wanted to be alone. Safe.

My protective little shield was always on guard, especially at the studio. It was much harder to feel safe in nothing but yoga clothes while doing awkward and difficult poses that seemed impossible. But there I was, unknowingly beginning to breathe again after years of holding my breath, biting my tongue, grinding my teeth and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was breathing deep, long, luxurious sighs of relief and slowly, my little armadillo shell began to soften. And slowly, I began to notice the kindness that surrounded me in the yogis and yoginis shuffling around in bare feet and ponytails. And slowly, I began to remember the kindness and the warmth that I had long forgotten in me. Opening up to the warmth in those around me began to thaw my icy shield and the love that I once felt safe to share had resurfaced again. Dorothy Day wrote: “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.”

My yoga practice and the community with which I am grateful to gather have grown in ways I couldn’t have possibly imagined 6 years ago. But here I am, racing to get to the yoga studio over and over and over, again.

Whatever your reason for racing to the yoga studio, just get there. But be safe…there are studio junkies with road rage out there on the streets!

Expect the unexpected. Always.

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 02:49:00 +0000

* Thin – Obese * Marriage - Divorce * Space – Congestion * Busy - Bored * Health – Illness* Abundance – Poverty * Joy – Misery * Birth – Death *

Life is full of highs and lows. Life can be bright, easy, charming and effortless. Then it gets messy, sticky, ugly and heavy. We laugh and then we cry. We cry and then we laugh again. It’s all in an honest day’s work. We move swiftly or awkwardly through these moments in time and try to catch our breath; moving along dreaming, hoping, planning and organizing for that moment in life when things will finally be smooth sailing. And then the unexpected always happens. Always.

My grandpa died last week just when I was ready to get my life in order. I went into the office on Monday morning bright-eyed and optimistic about the promising opportunities that lie in the start of a fresh new week. I was prepared to create my plan for my envisioned future, organize my files and my closets, manage my social calendar and keep up with the laundry once and for all. Anyone who knows me knows that I live and die by a strict set of OCD-inspired rules that keep me on my toes and focused on the goal at hand. This is how I’ve lived my life. Even choosing a shampoo becomes a complicated task when I begin to question whether or not the shampoo and it’s maker is in line with my life’s purpose. So this whole idea of “getting my life in order” is quite the joke. Rather it’s a constant refinement of “the plan” and a contemplation of what’s next. But then my grandpa died last week and the plan changed, again.

Sitting in his home on Monday, my brother and I looked around at the remains of the things that have accumulated in his life over the years. There were the usual grandparent things: prescription bottles, packages of chocolates, reminders about doctor’s appointments and that day’s newspaper. There were pictures of all the grandchildren from years and years and years ago (like the year my brother and I had matching permed mullets…thanks, mom) and pictures from just this past summer’s baseball outing. There were doilies and needlepoint décor, knickknacks and reading glasses, china and collectables. All these things that accumulated in a lifetime now just sit there waiting to be moved, packed and donated. All this stuff in a lifetime I’m sure were part of his plan or my grandma’s plan in one way or another. These things arrived no doubt because of the people and activities in their lives that celebrated their highs and recognized the lows in their lifetime. But in the end, it’s just stuff. And the stuff will be moved along.

The crocheted placemats, the macramé plant holders, the golf clubs and tools will long be forgotten but the moments around the arrival and purpose of these things will remain. We’ll remember the times that our grandpa brought his tools over to hang a picture or make a simple repair in our homes. We’ll remember those seemingly endless holiday dinners and the placemats that held our meals. The china that kept our coffee warm and our cookies handy over our multiple discussions about the meaning of life will remain in our hearts, and the glimpses of the macramé plant holders that decorated the front porch will flash in our minds as we look back on those warm summer evenings making commentary and observations about how the world has changed over the years. In the end, it is just stuff but it’s the life we build around the stuff that makes it magical, memorable and meaningful.

My grandpa was a no-nonsense kind of guy who really despised all the stuff but he sure loved music and a respectable dance partner. He cherished a strong cup of coffee with my grandma’s cookies and blueberry crepes with lots of whipped cream before church. My grandpa taught me to appreciate a smooth scotch at a celebration and a traditional pizza pie anytime. But even more, he loved an animated discussion, a good joke and a hearty laugh. He thrived on the cultivation of personal relationships that were built around all of the things we accumulate in life over time.

So these things that we have and these plans that we make sometimes get messy. The china gets dirty. The potted plants tip over in the wind and the picture frames sometimes crack. It is in these unexpected moments that we can often expect to find the best. It is often said that funerals bring out the worst in people but I believe that they can also bring out our best. These unexpected moments cause us to stop and pay attention; to step away from the plan for the future and step into the present; to pause and remember. It is in these unexpected moments, the highs and the lows that we are reminded who we are, where we come from and how far we’ve come. Pema Chodren writes: “This very moment is the perfect teacher is really a profound instruction. Just seeing what’s going on – that’s the teaching right there. Awakeness is found in our pleasure and our pain, our confusion and our wisdom. It is available in each moment of our weird, unfathomable, ordinary lives.” These unexpected messy moments transport us away from the drama and frivolity and back to no-nonsense living.

In honor of Jack Yuhas, dance with a good partner. Have a cup of coffee, cookies and crepes with whipped cream. Sip a smooth scotch and eat a piece of pizza. And then tell a joke, have a hearty laugh and an honest heart-to-heart with someone. Anyone. And mark the highs and lows of life and all of the stuff in between.

Learning to Float

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 17:22:00 +0000

“The circle of your friends will defend the silver lining.” -John Mayer

I’ve always been a fairly strong swimmer. All of those summer days at swim team practice paid off as a kid! Every morning, I would slip on my slick red, white & blue Speedo, run out the door barefoot, hop on my banana seat bike and head up the big hill to the pool; it was a daily thrill. Our team was called the PM Pests; the practices were tough and we were tough. I loved every minute of the drills, the laps, the push-ups and sit-ups, the challenges and the camaraderie. My brother was on the team as were all of our best buds in the hood. It was the best. Simple. Uncomplicated. Rewarding.

The team was in our neighborhood and we competed against other neighborhoods in the city. Families gathered along the pool’s edge for swim meets as we swimmers huddled under beach towel tents that we constructed using wet towels and the chain-link fence that lined the pool’s perimeter. We’d giggle and laugh and lick our fingers and stick them into the various flavors of dry Jell-O mix to get our sugar buzz before our event and heat were called. The pre-race ritual was always the same: I’d stretch the rubber cap over my blonde-turned green chlorine-stained head, spit into my goggles to prevent fogging and then position those goggles strategically on my face securing their position by pressing them as hard as I could into my eye sockets. This procedure no doubt caused some early on-set wrinkles, but I was racing to win. Climbing on the diving block my legs quivered and my heart galloped, and just before the gun signaled the start of the race, I pulled that little swimsuit weggie out and settled into my very best dive stance. Screams and cheers of overbearing parents in the background would suddenly go silent as I dove into the pool, focused to win. Be strong. Swim strong. Finish strong. It’s just you and the water.

My parents always taught me to be tough, fierce enough to take care of myself and to always move forward independently and unwavering regardless of any setbacks. In most cases, this has always worked…in the water and on land. However, for the past several weeks, I have felt like I have been working really hard just to tread water or to stay grounded. Despite my typical determination and perseverance, I have been struggling just to stay afloat. I have felt weak and tired and confused in what appears to be an unfamiliar sea of rough and unpredictable waters. And lately, I’ve needed more than my own independence and vigor.

In his book, The Power of Kindness Piero Ferrucci writes: “We live in an era of individualism. The individual is celebrated in every form. To be special and creative, to offer an original contribution, to compete with others and be the best: Nowadays this is the guiding idea for many people. [However,] the sense of belonging is a basic need and at the same time the answer to a question. We ask ourselves: What am I part of? And another equally crucial question: Who am I?” Well, in my case, I didn’t even have to ask and I have gotten answers. My friends and family have stepped right in and have let me unload the struggle; letting me float. With compassion, genuine concern and unconditional love, they’ve let me waft. With sweetness, kindness and humor, they’ve held me up; letting me coast. They have let me and my heavy heart be light.

Ferrucci also writes: “…the feeling that we are part of a whole greater than ourselves, with which we are physically, mentally, and spiritually involved is a necessary factor to our well-being. Research has found that support is extraordinarily important for physical and mental health. The greater number of friends upon whom we can count, and the better the quality of these relationships, the greater is our longevity and our health.”

During my yoga practice recently, my teacher asked us to dedicate our practice to someone. This person could be someone that we love or despise, someone we admire or question, or simply someone that needs our support…whomever. She suggested that when the practice became more difficult than we thought we could bear, we visualize the face of that person. As is often the case for me, the practice was frequently challenging and in those seemingly unbearable moments I didn’t just see one face, I saw many: I saw the face of the one who invited me over to bake bread just to keep me busy. The face of the one who invited me to her sister’s “candle” party (even though I loathe those parties) in order to temporarily distract my thoughts came to mind. I saw the face of the one who has listened, and listened and listened even while I was babbling and mumbling and sobbing with snots spewing everywhere. The face of one who has called me every day came into view and also the faces of the others who have called every other day or once a week. The face of that someone who changed their plans at the last minute just to be there for me quickly arose. Then there was the face of that someone who sends me encouraging notes, daily and even sometimes twice a day! There was the gentle face of the one who reminded me that I just have to go through it…I can’t go around it. And then there was the face of that one and the other one and the other one who keeps reminding me who I am. And as I saw all those faces during my practice, the tears came softly from my eyes and I smiled with gratitude and grace.

In the past, I would have struggled through the pain, the confusion and the sadness, alone…brawny and brave. I would have navigated the shifty waters determined to get by…by myself. But through my yoga practice, I am learning the importance of the communities that we create and the value of our relationships that can bear the uncertain waters and buoy us up when we can’t. Through these sustaining relationships, I’ve learned to soften and trust, share my true fears and failures, celebrate the joys and the glory, and laugh at the often absurdity of it all. To all those faces that came to mind, thank you. I am learning to float because of you.

Practice yoga. Create Community. Float.

“The meaning of our self is not to be found in its separateness from God and others, but in the ceaseless realization of yoga, of union.”-Rabindranath Tagore

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 02:41:00 +0000

This Crisis

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 02:35:00 +0000

“When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.…And what is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth…” -Kahil Gibran, The Prophet

Over the past several months, I have been fumbling through my second of what I am sure will be multiple life crises. I have been grappling with the same questions that many of us ponder: “What should I be doing with my life and my career? Am I making a difference? Am I moving passionately through the world? What do I have yet to accomplish? What’s not done yet?” It’s no surprise that this crisis culminated on the passing of my eleventh anniversary at the non-profit organization where I proudly work.

So I have been doing the groundwork to answer these questions. Contemplating, talking with friends and family, researching options and considering a master’s program. I even met with an academic advisor this week to discuss different programs, the time and financial commitment and the marketability of different fields. After meeting with this advisor, I walked out of her office deflated and drained. I had a physical reaction to the idea of going back into a classroom for the next two years and I adore learning! It was quite telling.

A couple of weeks ago, I had the unique opportunity to visit Lake Chautauqua and the Chautauqua Institute in western New York. While on this visit, we attended the all-denominational service in the beautiful open-air amphitheater. The service was conducted by a Christian pastor, a Presbyterian pastor and a Jewish rabbi and no, this is not the start of a joke. Each shared in the delivery of the service and the whole experience was quite moving. But what struck me most was the commentary from the Presbyterian. He was quite eloquent, extremely intelligent and his message was well-supported. Beyond all of his impressive presentation skills, there was one comment that made all the difference to me. He said: “There are those who believe and those who know.” That was it. Something was stirred inside of me and it was exactly what I needed to hear.

So, how do we know? Deepak Chopra says that “every human being has a unique talent [and] when you are expressing that one unique talent, you lose track of time. The expression of that talent takes you into timeless awareness.” And the single most important component to realizing your full potential is when you combine the ability to express your unique talent with service to humanity. This is the Law of Dharma, meaning purpose in life. And each of us is here to discover and know our own true Self.

What do you believe and what do you know? I have believed for a very long time that it is probably a smart idea for me to get my master’s degree. I have believed for a very long time that savvy business professionals change careers and companies frequently. I have also believed for a very long time that my worth would be measured by my career success. But what do I know? I know that I had a negative physical reaction to the idea of going back to school right now. I know that when I am working on behalf of the young people that our organization serves, I am fulfilled and encouraged by their pure potential. I know that when I teach or practice yoga that I lose my ego, my fears and all sense of time. These are things I know for certain. What do you know for certain? Really know without fear, uncertainty or doubt? Go with what you know. Listen to your heart and move forward in truth. It is not without effort but as Albert Einstein once said: “I want to know God’s thoughts…the rest are details.” So…do I believe that I have solved this crisis? I know I have.

“An integral being knows without going, sees without looking, and accomplishes without doing.” -Lao Tzu

Those chops.

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 03:57:00 +0000

“Nothing comes from violence, and nothing ever could.” -Sting, “Fragile”

I’m pretty confident that my mom’s pork chops that we ate as kids were just one of the Universe’s way of encouraging my decision to become a vegetarian. Those chops may have been rawhide in disguise. Who knows? But all I can remember for certain were the torturous moments of gnawing on that pork and trying to choke it down with gulps of thick, whole milk and wanting to die. My jaws ached, my mouth dried up and my anxiety grew as my brother ran out the door to play while I was left behind to “finish my meal.” Those chops. We might as well just have teethed on our shoes. To this day, I still shutter when I see pork chops and applesauce on a menu.

Don’t get me wrong, my mom cooked a lot of amazing things while we were growing up. All of our snacks were homemade: granola, baked apples, creatively flavored popcorn, cookies, pastries and hand-kneaded breads. Very little was store-prepped or processed. We rarely got to get ice cream when the Ice Cream Man rolled around in his truck playing that creepy music because our mom had made homemade orange juice popsicles in those clever little Tupperware containers (who came up with that bright idea?). I seethed with envy as my friends ran around the neighborhood with their Bomb Pops, Screwballs and Ice Cream Sandwiches. All of our cereal was some type of bran or grain or what I thought was bark. Rarely did we get to have Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops or the joy of having the roofs of our mouths torn off as we enjoyed a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. And when my mom did buy factory-made cookies, they were Pecan Sandies. What kid likes those?!? And forget about Happy Meals. There was no such meal that was happy at our house…especially on pork chop and applesauce night!

But truthfully, I am extremely grateful for the way my mom prepared our meals. As a result, I do believe that I now make choices about my food that are nurturing precisely because she took the time to make homemade meals and snacks. I now prefer earthy whole grain bread, I love vegetables and I don’t crave Lucky Charms. I do crave indulgences however, like red wine, dark chocolate and pizza but these days, I’ve learned to spoil myself more often on those luxury foods that are whole, simple and nourishing. And those that are less likely to cause harm to me and to the Earth and its inhabitants where I coexist.

It wasn’t just those chops that turned me off to meat. It was Earth Day, 1990 at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo. I was a sophomore in high school and my friends and I decided to goof off and head down to the zoo to partake in the Earth Day festivities. Really, we just wanted to hang out together. I had no idea that my experience at the zoo that day would so shape my thoughts and opinions about eating meat. But that day changed everything. We wandered around the zoo checking out the animals, teasing each other and laughing our heads off. It was a great day to be a high school student. And then I stumbled across the PETA informational table and saw those horrific pictures of the factory farms, and that was enough for me. At that time in my life, I just thought it was gross. I was a sophomore and all I thought was how disgusting those slaughter houses were and that I couldn’t possibly ingest another piece of meat that came from such an ugly place. That was it. That day I stopped and I’ve never looked back.

But I have looked forward and the more I learn, the more I understand the ramifications of my choices every day. One of the yogic practices is ahimsa, meaning non-violence. We can practice ahimsa in a variety of ways: managing our road rage, refraining from using swear-words (I’m still working on that) or simply committing to compassion. Compassion in our thoughts, our words and our actions.

Wednesday, April 22nd is Earth Day. The benefits of a vegetarian diet are vast and wide and support a healthy environment. Consider the following benefits from the North American Vegetarian Society. A vegetarian diet:
-Reduces the risk of major killers such as heart disease, strokes and cancers while cutting exposure to food borne pathogens;
-Provides a viable answer to feeding the world’s hungry through more efficient use of grains and other crops;
-Saves animals from suffering in factory-farm conditions and from the pain and terror of slaughter;
-Conserves vital but limited freshwater, fertile topsoil and other precious resources;
-Preserves irreplaceable ecosystems such as rainforests and other wildlife habitats;
-Decreases greenhouse gases that are accelerating global warming;
-Mitigates the ever-expanding environmental pollution of animal agriculture.

What will you do to support our Earth and our environment this year? If a vegetarian diet is not appropriate for you at this time in your life, consider some of the following simple changes:

· Share your used magazines with a friend and then recycle;
· Quit using paper towels…it’s not as difficult as you think;
· Stop buying bottled water. A water cooler and service is inexpensive and convenient. Consider what you spend each month buying those packs of bottled water.
· If you haven’t started using all of those trendy reusable shopping bags that you bought, start today;
· Choose just one day to go completely meat-free. You’ll feel great;
· Shop the perimeter of the grocery store. Those shelves in the middle of the store are filled with processed, packaged foods. It’s better for the environment and great for your waste-line!

There are so many simple, compassionate actions that we can take to create positive change. For more ideas and information, check out www.earthday.gov.

So it wasn’t just those chops that changed my attitude about eating meat but they sure made a lasting impact. Thanks, Mom.

*Please note: Class will be cancelled this Saturday, April 25th due to the Iyengar Workshop.

Go Home Once in Awhile

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 15:16:00 +0000

Our People

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 15:09:00 +0000

“All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied. And to be a simple kind of man, someone you can love and understand.” -Lynyrd Skynyrd

Ahhhhhhhh! Do you ever experience that massive sigh of relief when you know that you will spend the day or the evening or a lunch or a dinner with your nearest and dearest? Those in your life that love you unconditionally even though they know every deep, dark and desperate part of you? Those who love you despite the fact that you are compelled to have a 10 minute conversation with the server about which bottle of wine has been opened within the past hour and that you really don’t want a glass of wine from any bottle that was opened any earlier? Those who love you even though you contemplate your entire day’s meals and how each cuisine should complement each other? Those people who love you even though you are always typically 15 – 20 minutes late even with your best effort. Those people. The ones. Your people. Those who say: “She’s a nut and she drives me insane but I love her despite it all.” I am so fortunate. I have those people. Some are family…so they are stuck with me. Others are connected because of family…so they are stuck with me, too. And those who are just the best of friends who aren’t stuck…they just stick around. I am one lucky gal!

Tonight, I expected to have dinner with my nearest and dearest, my brother and his partner whom I also consider a very good friend, Jason. The three of us haven’t had a sit-down (just the three of us) in quite some time, and I was so looking forward to a really raw, lay it out there, this is what’s goin’ on kind of dinner. I was eager to catch up. They are my people, and I was missing them a lot. So, I strolled into the restaurant (only 5 minutes late this time) and was stunned when I noticed the other woman sitting at the table with them munching on chips and salsa! The other woman is Johnny and Jason’s neighbor, Michelle. And I enjoy her. And she is fantastic. And she is a good friend to the both of them. But I was deflated when I saw her. What about our unconditional, I can be me, I can let it all hang out, I can eat my disproportionate share of bread pudding dinner? Initially, I was crushed. Ho hum. Poor me.

But then I started thinking…What if I just let myself be raw? What if I just laid it all out there? What if I ate my disproportionate share of bread pudding? What if I let my truth reveal itself? Shakti Gawain says: “We will discover the nature of our particular genius when we stop trying to conform to our own or to other people’s models, learn to be ourselves, and allow our natural channel to open.” So I decided to settle in, soften into the moment and relax into me. Ahhhhhhh! That massive sigh of relief returned and I felt okay.

I am just learning to be me. And more significantly, learning to be comfortable with me. And it is terrifying some days…and joyfully liberating on others. It wasn’t until I made a commitment to my truth and dedicated my life to a consistent yoga practice that I understood this concept of listening to my truth, trusting my truth and sharing my truth. I have always been so distracted. Busy. Trying to figure it all out and being “on” for the world around me. Erich Schiffmann says: “We have never stayed home long enough to experience the truth about ourselves.” I am so infrequently, home.

So go home once in awhile. Your people, those ones, your nearest and dearest are right there, always there and will always love you despite your tendency to overindulge on bread pudding. When we listen to our truth and we are honest with ourselves and others, everyone we encounter becomes our people.

Really sick people.

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 20:20:00 +0000

“If you want to progress on a spiritual path, you must challenge your actions – as to whether or not they are authentic expressions of the love and spirit within you. You must ask whether what you are doing bespeaks compassion or indifference to the suffering of others.” -John Robbins

For nearly two weeks now, I have been battling a wretched cold, laryngitis, other unmentionable offspring and finally, the flu. This is the first time I’ve ever experienced the flu. The first time I’ve ever taken more than two consecutive unplanned days off of work and the first time I’ve done virtually nothing in all of my life. This has been as emotionally challenging as it has been physically challenging. You see…I don’t get sick. I don’t catch the common cold. Nope. Not me. Until now.

Every night, I load up my vaporizer, lather on the Vicks and lay in bed praying that I will get a few hours of uninterrupted, productive and healing sleep despite my plugged up nose, dry coughs and achy muscles. Morning dawns and still I lay there, but in the daylight I contemplate my day: Which jammies will I wear today? Which type of tea will I brew first? Should I juice or drink my Vitamin C elixir? It’s deflating, boring and exhausting all at the same time. There are only so many magazines you can flip through, books to read and films to divert your attention. And don’t even get me started on daytime television…now I know why stay-at-home parents are just a bit cookey!

So all of this time on my hands without the energy or enthusiasm to even organize my files, clean out a drawer or dig into the pile of books I want to read got me thinking about people who are sick. Really sick people: People who are battling cancer or struggle daily with lupus; sick people recovering from yet another surgery or those who sit and wait for dialysis; pregnant ladies confined to bed-rest or elderly attached to a breathing machine, tank and hoses, cords and straps; sick people who spend days in treatment centers for alcoholism, anorexia or anxiety; and those who are terminal…just waiting, wondering and wishing.

Sitting on my couch, I felt lonely. I wanted people to visit. I longed for the laughter between good friends, family to call and check-in, and colleagues who needed my input. And I got all of those things; friends, family and co-workers called day and night. People asked if I needed them to stop at the grocery store, my brother brought me movies and magazines, a colleague asked if I wanted her to bring home my homework, and Howard brought me homemade vegetable soup. And this is just the flu. And this is just two weeks of my life. And I am reminded that I am so blessed with rich, genuine and meaningful relationships. But what about the sick people? The really sick people who don’t have a Howard, a Johnny, a Maria, a Wendy, a Laura, a Michelle, a mom or a dad? What about those who sit in Hospice and wait, wonder and wish?

At the beginning of the month, my friend Amy mailed me an article about a yoga teacher who teaches yoga to young Afghan orphans. The story is powerful, moving, light and lovely. But what moved me more was the note that Amy attached to the article. Her note read: “Hey doll! Where will you spread your love for yoga in 2009?” I’ve been carrying this note around with me for the past month trying to answer the question. Now, I have an answer.

Yoga is not just down dog, Sirsasana or Warriors I, II and III. Yoga is about creating union through compassion and action; taking action to live more truthfully and selflessly in order to make the burdens of life lighter and the darkest moments a bit brighter. It’s not that difficult or grandiose but it does take action. Ingrid Newkirk says: “In order to be kind, one must do. There is no point in thinking good thoughts and not acting on them. There is no currency in wishing things were better but not rolling up one’s sleeves and helping to change them.” So do something. Share your love. Even the most beautiful asana practice can’t enlighten unless you take that beauty off your mat, out of the studio and into the living, breathing world around you. Just like Amy asked me, I ask you: “Where will you spread your love for yoga in 2009?”

“If you seek enlightenment, or even if you seek happiness, go to the cause. Nothing exists without a cause. The root cause of happiness in compassion.” -the Dalai Lama

Read it!

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 15:53:00 +0000

I've been waiting for you...

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 15:50:00 +0000

“Through the benefits that arise from practicing yoga, and not just from reading or hearing about it, we may discover that cultivating kindness improves our sense of well-being, our peace of mind, and our physical health.” -Sharon Gannon from Yoga and Vegetarianism

How are those New Year’s resolutions coming along? Compassionate thoughts? Compassionate motives? Compassionate actions? When we come from a place of pure compassion, the challenges of resolutions melt away…even on a crisp chilly day like today and every choice becomes a thoughtful, compassionate action. Sharon Gannon says: “Banish the word struggle from your attitude and vocabulary. All that you do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration. We are the ones we have been waiting for!”

I’ll be waiting for you on Saturday morning for a warm, cozy and energizing asana practice.

Compassion

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 02:27:00 +0000

Resolve

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 02:24:00 +0000

“To the degree that we look clearly and compassionately at ourselves, we feel confident and fearless about looking into someone else's eyes.” –Pema Chodron

Have you made your New Year’s resolution, yet? Lose 10 pounds. Quit smoking. Pay off debt. I have a tendency to be an extremist. For me…it’s all or nothing. Starting tomorrow…this body will not eat a refined carbohydrate for the next three months. I will rise at 5 a.m. to run 5 miles 5 days a week. From here on out, I am only drinking wine on Wednesdays. And from now on, I will ban Starbucks and make my Americanos at home. The list goes on… it’s exhausting and typically, doesn’t last for very long.

I was raised in a good Catholic household. If we worked really hard, deprived ourselves and repented for our sins, we just might enjoy the fruits of life. Our home was not one that necessarily nurtured compassion, rather hard work and achievements. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t such a bad thing. I value hard work, I appreciate goals and challenges, and I look forward to celebrating the rewards. But what I never quite understood was compassion toward myself and ultimately, others. In my world, there is always more to accomplish… a higher level of success to attain…and new ambitions, targets and objectives to nail. But what about compassion?

Tibetan Buddist teacher Pema Chodron writes: “When we talk of compassion, we usually mean working with those less fortunate than ourselves. Because we have better opportunities, a good education, and good health, we should be compassionate toward those poor people who don't have any of that. However, in working with the teachings on how to awaken compassion and in trying to help others, we might come to realize that compassionate action involves working with ourselves as much as working with others. Compassionate action is a practice, one of the most advanced.” Fostering compassion can help us fine tune our choices. Compassion creates the pause to contemplate, reflect and deliberate the large and small decisions we make in our lives. Compassion towards ourselves means we care about how we take care of ourselves, the life we live and ultimately, the energy that we give out. When we have compassion, we find kindness in our every action. So when we are compassionate, we respect ourselves and ultimately, the choices that we make nurture and support our well-being.

Yesterday, a friend said to me: “Jen, I know this sounds selfish but my New Year’s resolution is to start taking care of myself.” I responded: “You’re brilliant!” When we awaken compassion within ourselves, we are not bothered with losing 10 pounds, quitting smoking and getting out of debt, instead each reflective compassionate action in our lives rears reverence and admiration for the life we are living. Compassion generates value. There are no extremes, just simple contemplative choices. Year by year, month to month, week in and week out, every day and every moment in between.

It’s not easy. Work is required. And practice, critical. But the reward is fruitful. So maybe this year, you rethink your New Year’s resolution and instead of swearing off carbs, you invite compassion, and in that compassion you just might find that the donut doesn’t taste as good, the cigarettes become stinky and the dress not worth the debt. Once and for all, resolve.

“Compassion starts with making friends with ourselves…particularly with our poisons.” -Pema Chodron

Be a Lifesaver

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 03:07:00 +0000

“Blame keeps the sad game going. It keeps stealing all your wealth – giving it to an imbecile with no financial skills. Dear one, wise up. -Hafiz

After leaving my former long-term relationship, many people asked me: “Why?” How do you sum up the fall-out of a relationship? How do you explain the failure, the disappointment, the shock, the night when…, the day he…, the moment you…, the fear, the uncertainty, the anxiety, the sadness, the unbelievable, the this can’t be my life and ultimately, the realization that the dream was no longer and never really was and never really could be, reality? I couldn’t sum it up until I understood it and when I did understand, I knew the reason why I left: I had to save my life. It was the only thing I could do.

It sounds awfully dramatic and aren’t break-ups always that way? So dramatic. They are. And in this case, the apocalypse was revealed…naked, bare and raw: I had to save my life. Apocalypse can be defined as a disaster, destruction or the end of the world. It is also means to uncover, reveal or to stand exposed. In her new book Yoga and Vegetarianism, Sharon Gannon says: “When we let go of holding on to things, our hands will be open to receive everything.”

Many of us are often most content in a state of discontent. It’s the old: “I’ll be happy when…” Facing our personal day of reckoning is scary and oftentimes gets very ugly before the beauty is revealed. When I made the decision to leave, I got some very good advice from a dear friend. She said: “Jen, it’s gonna get worse before it gets worse.” And she was right. And it was okay. It is only when we confront the discontent, challenge the discomfort and examine our truth that the joy, splendor and celebration of life can begin. No one else can do this…only you. No one else is to blame…only you. No one else can save your life…only you. Buddha says: “No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.”

Day to day, we forget how much power we hold in our hands and in our hearts. Instead, we hold onto the monotony and the displeasure. And rather than let the thing go that keeps us suspended, we hoard it and feed it and drag it around. Sharon says: “We each weave our own tangled web of karma and most certainly become entangled in it, as our reality is being created from our own actions.” What if you headed heart-first into the disaster, exposed and vulnerable, and let the revelation begin? What if you just let it go? Instead of saying, “I’ll be happy when…” what if you simply did the thing you needed to do to be happy now? What if you saved your life?

“We must embody what we feel is good and beautiful and not wait for others to lead us.” -Sharon Gannon

Give

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 20:02:00 +0000

“If you can’t feed a hundred people, then just feed one.” -Mother Teresa

Give Peace. Give Joy. Give Freedom. Give Yoga.

During the month of December, bring a friend, family member or co-worker to our class and they practice for free!

“If you wish to experience peace, provide peace for another.” -The 14th Dalai Lama

I am looking forward to meeting your buddies this Saturday and every Saturday!

Peace and joy and freedom to you and yours…

Graceful Path

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 19:29:00 +0000

Grace

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 19:11:00 +0000

"Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her Eye, in every gesture dignity and love..." –John Milton

I stumble over myself, a lot; my thoughts, my words and my feet. I stumble. I sweat a lot when I get really nervous. I walk so fast and furious at times that I trip over my own feet, bump into the person walking next to me and bang into walls; clipped a shoulder here, knocked a hip there and stubbed many, many toes. Sometimes I feel like the Tasmanian devil! I’ve always thought of grace or the quality of being graceful as a skinny beautiful ballerina with a long venous neck who smokes lots of cigarettes, eats iceberg lettuce and practices with determination, discipline and desire until her toes bleed in order to achieve such polish, precision, poise and sophistication in each movement as she glides across the stage. Grace can be defined as elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion or action. I’ve never been particularly graceful.

In his book Anusara Yoga, John Friend describes grace as “saying yes to the whole magical spectrum of life. It is a willingness to be aware of all parts of ourselves – the light and the dark…to look at whatever arises with freshness and freedom…without clinging or pushing.” Sharon Gannon and David Life explain grace as pushti marga or simply effort and surrender. Practice and trust. Knowing that despite what is swirling around in life, everything is exactly as it should be. This is the path of grace.

Particularly around the holidays, it’s easy to melt down and give in to the distractions that make us clumsy. Easier to question or second-guess our path and our purpose. I’m not sure what happens at the holidays but we can often get thrown off course and bump into walls, stub our toes and trip over our own feet when your grandmother asks if you’ve gained weight, or your aunt asks if you are dating anyone or your mother asks when you are going to settle down and buy a house. But truly knowing grace means that you surrender fully to all of the peaks and valleys of life and you answer their questions but know deep in your heart that you have the only real answer you need. I never understood grace until I felt it. I’ll probably keep tripping up here and there but with effort and a whole lot of trust, I feel graceful. And like a ballerina, I’ll continue to glide through life.

Enjoy the process, soften into the path and stay authentic this Saturday with a graceful practice.

Sometimes, it's necessary to go back...

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 12:58:00 +0000

Soup's On!

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 22:32:00 +0000

“When we were growing up, we were so poor that our heritage was the only thing we had. Mama would say, “Kids, pour more water in the soup. Better days are coming.”
-Ashley Judd, American actress

Whenever I am unable to practice yoga and I am feeling unsettled, I default to making soup. Last week, I made three pots! Making a pot of soup grounds me. There is something so magical about a steaming pot of soup with all of its individual ingredients blending together yet allowing each herb, vegetable or spice to stand out. Soup crosses all borders, all ethnicities, all religions and always returns back home to our hearts. Soup is universal and soup is unique to each culture. Soup is a beautiful thing.

In Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, the first sutra should be enough to ground us: “Yogas Citta Vritti Nirodhah”. It means the restraint of the modifications of the mind-stuff: the chatter, the voices that say you should or you shouldn’t or you should have. This is Yoga. All of the yogic practices are based on this one sutra. If you can control the ebb and the flow, the frantic and the calm, and the rise and the fall of the mind, you will experience Yoga. Well…some days are better than others!

There are oftentimes in life when the world seems to be spinning so quickly; especially now. People are worried about their jobs, their children, their finances and the future. Uncertainty breeds discontent and it becomes increasingly difficult to manage the chatter or the citta. It is in times of uncertainty when we need to practice yoga the most, but sometimes that too becomes a challenge.

So what grounds you? When you can’t get to yoga or the yoga just doesn’t seem to work that day, what is it that reminds you that everything is okay our world? Maybe you make cake or cookies or maybe you balance your checkbook or review your accounts; maybe you clean out a closet or cuddle with your sweetie or your kids; or maybe you cuddle up with Ben & Jerry (I’ll admit it…I’ve done it). Maybe you go for a run or get on your bike, or maybe you write a letter to a friend, or call your mom or dad. Me…I make soup and I am reminded that all is right in the world. Soup is a sure thing.

The Kindest Course
“Soup is cuisine’s kindest course. It breaths reassurance; it steams consolation; after a weary day it promotes sociability…there is nothing like a bowl of hot soup, its wisp of aromatic steam making the nostrils quiver with anticipation.”
-Chef Louis P. DeGouy from The Soup Book, 1949

Reminder: Class will be cancelled this Saturday due to the Dean Learner workshop at the Yoga Room. Check out www.greentarayoga.com for more information.

Carving Pumpkins

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 01:31:00 +0000

“The Great Pumpkin always picks the most sincere pumpkin patch to rise out of. He's just gotta pick this pumpkin patch. He's just gotta! Look around. You can see that there's not a sign of hypocrisy anywhere. Nothing but sincerity reaching out as far as the eye can see.” –Linus from It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown

After spending Saturday afternoon with my mom, she suggested that I take home one of the 12 pumpkins that she and her husband had displayed in honor of Halloween. My mom and her husband are those people in the neighborhood; the ones that decorate for every holiday. The trick or treaters love it, and my mom loves the kids…so it all works out. But when she suggested that I take a pumpkin home, I said: “What am I going to do with a pumpkin?” Responding quickly and nonchalantly, she said: “Carve it. Peel it. Roast the seeds and the pumpkin.” “Okay,” I said. So, the pumpkin and I headed back to the city.

Carving a pumpkin is tough. After slicing the pumpkin in half, I scooped out the insides including the seeds which you have to separate from the stringy guts of the pumpkin…now I know why pumpkin seeds are so expensive. After cleaning the seeds, I sectioned the pumpkin into manageable parts in order to peel its skin. It was at this point that I began sweating, swiftly cut my finger and found myself and my kitchen covered in pumpkin skin…but I refused to give up despite the injury. Finally, I was able to cut the pumpkin into bite-size cubes in order to roast. I was exhausted!

I don’t remember carving pumpkins being so dangerous, so that leads me to believe that I never actually carved a pumpkin as a child. My family carved pumpkins every year, but after carving this pumpkin, I am confident that any adult in their right mind would never, ever let a child carve a pumpkin! So it was my parents or my older brother who bravely risked their fingers or hands every year carving pumpkins so that I could enjoy the full Halloween experience.

In the end, the roasted pumpkin was delicious. Even more, were the scrumptious memories of Halloweens past and the sweet realization that there are special people in our worlds who do things large and small to make our lives wonderful… memorable… easier.

Who has made your life a little easier or sweeter this week, this month, this year or in this lifetime? Thank them today. Thank you, Mom, Dad and Johnny for risking your fingers to make every Halloween enchanting for me.

This Saturday, devote your yoga practice those people or that one person that you want to thank!

Roasted Pumpkin Recipe…if you dare! (servings depends on the size of the pumpkin)
-Preheat oven to 450 degrees
-See paragraph 2 to begin and proceed with caution
-Toss pumpkin cubes in the best olive oil you can afford, 100% pure maple syrup, cinnamon, nutmeg, ground ginger, sea or kosher salt and fresh pepper
-Spread pumpkin cubes in a single layer on a cookie sheet and roast in oven for approximately 45 minutes or until tender; toss midway
-Serve as a side dish, with plain Greek-style yogurt or with Ben & Jerry’s vanilla bean!

Reflect

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 03:12:00 +0000

Liberation

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 03:09:00 +0000

“Our greatest happiness does not depend on the condition of life in which chance has placed us, but is always the result of a good conscience, good health, occupation, and freedom in all just pursuits.” -Thomas Jefferson

This past weekend, I had the unique opportunity to run the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C. It was an amazing experience all around. During the run, I relied heavily on my yogic practices: methodical breathing, mantra, karma and trusting wholeheartedly in the Universe. During the first half of the race, I repeated one mantra over and over again until there were moments during the run that I didn’t even think about running…my body was just moving. During the third quarter of the race, I began to send out a little karma to fellow runners. I told people that I liked their shorts or their shirt and if I saw a struggling runner, I sent them some shakti love. Finally, in the last quarter of the race, I had to pull out the most magical, sure-fire, get-it-done ritual: any and all Madonna on my IPod. Works every time!

This race was particularly meaningful and moving, especially during this historical Presidential election. Erika, my good friend said: “What an exciting time to be in our Nation’s capital!” And she was right. We started at the Arlington National cemetery and ran across the Francis Scott Key Bridge into Georgetown. We traveled along the Potomac River and around the Thomas Jefferson Memorial down Constitution Avenue to the Washington Monument. The course took us along the front of the Capital building where a marching band played patriotic tunes to motivate the pack. One last time over the Potomac, we finally crossed the finish line at the Iwo Jima Memorial and I was grateful to live in a country where I am free to run (in a running skirt, no less), and I was reminded of the goodness of humanity… the hundreds of spectators who spent their Sunday morning handing out tissues, Twizzlers and Tylenol at their own free will…just to help us finish.

Our country is not perfect and we are certainly facing uncertain times, but we are free. Free to choose our vocation, free to choose our religion, free to protest and free to run. Celebrate your freedom and take advantage of the opportunity to vote…to make a statement for what you believe in. My teacher’s teachers, Sharon Gannon and David Life say: “You can’t help but be political. Every action, every choice you make affects us all. To say that you are political is to say that you care about the world we live in.” My little rituals helped me along the way: mantra, Madonna…oh…and did I mention those Marines? But it was liberation that I celebrated as I crossed the finish line.

Celebrate your freedom this Saturday, November 1st with an invigorating asana practice.

We did it thanks to all that mantra & shakti!

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 02:45:00 +0000

Invest

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 18:09:00 +0000

Class will be cancelled this Saturday, October 25th resuming on Saturday, November 1st. Please contact me with any questions.

In the meantime, practice sending shakti (meaning force, power, energy) love out into the world around you. It is the most solid investment you can make today and is guaranteed to pay dividends.

Shanti...shanti...shanti...

Pasta Shakti Bliss

noreply@blogger.com (Jennifer Yuhas, Certified & Registered Yoga Teacher) — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 19:16:00 +0000