Yoga with Ritatude

Go with the flow…

2011-04-20T08:56:00.000-07:00

…I say that all the time in class.
I take the seat of the teacher and I talk about the choppy waters of life and how fighting the current of fear and delusion will only lead to frustration. I certainly believe it to be true but somehow I find myself treading in dark, murky waters over and over again; fighting the fearful currents with all my might.

The reality is that there are are so many people in this world who must navigate far more treacherous waters than any I have had to face. They must actually fight for each precious drop of life. So why is it that I continue to struggle in the flow of my very sweet life? Why do I find myself frustrated by tsunamis of self-doubt initiated by other people’s careless words and fears?

Someone very wise recently told me that we only begin to develop self-confidence when we can cultivate the ability to overcome delusions and lose the ignorance of ego. Adding that we mustn’t fear darkness as it is a much grander truth than the flowers that easily bloom in the warmth of the sun.

I think about these words as I look up at an overcast night sky. It seems empty and thick and dreary; but as I continue to watch, I see a glimmer of light, and soon enough the dark clouds part, and starlight comes beaming through, offering a hint of the Divine. I understand that the stars were always there -- maybe it was simply my ego that blocked the view.

One night, while on retreat in Mexico, I jumped fearlessly into the warmth of the ocean while those very same stars twinkled above me. I think about how comforting it felt to rest on the surface of the dark and soothing sea as the stars offered tiny beacons of hope.
Gentle waves rocked me effortlessly to shore.
I felt safe and courageous.
All I had to do was go with the flow.

RT

Believe it or not

2011-01-18T15:28:00.000-08:00

Not long ago I received a lovely text message from my daughter. She was in Vermont snowboarding, and felt compelled to say she loved and missed me. It made me feel really warm and happy --- my heart was smiling and overflowing with pure love.

Minutes later (really), I received an email from someone who felt equally compelled to send a laundry list of some of my most unpleasant qualities. I was so shocked, and so wounded, I actually cried.

Now I’m sure you’re thinking that I would know better than to dwell on negative and judgmental statements, and instead focus on the lovely text from my sweet, beautiful daughter -- especially because of my many years of practicing and teaching yoga, and the fact that this person doesn’t know me very well.

Apparently, not so much. It took me days to shake that awful, anxious pit in my stomach. No matter if the negative comments were true or not, it was my choice to attach to them, and, as a result, suffer. It wasn’t the sender that caused the suffering, it was me.

We always have the choice to be happy. I chose to stay attached to the unskillful judgments of another, and linger in the resulting negative emotions. But those words could only hurt me if I allowed them to. I didn’t have to read them, believe them, or hold them in my heart.

I suppose it’s our human nature to yearn to always be right and always be loved. But my yogic nature was nudged awake by this recent episode, and I realized that while I won’t always be right or always loved, it’s okay. I am responsible for my own happiness, and, I am for sure the root cause of my own suffering.

So I saved the text and deleted the email. I‘ve decided not to suffer; I’ve decided I’d much rather be the cause of my own happiness.

May all beings be happy and free!
RT

Quick Check

2010-10-23T15:33:00.000-07:00

So many interesting things have been happening that I hardly know where to begin...

For now I just want to share my new Sunday morning class at the Yoga Loft in Bedford -- you can enjoy a yummy brunch afterwards! And a new restorative class at Tully beginning on Thursday, October 28th. Hope to see you at either or both.

Will catch up with my blogging asap - now I need to figure out my new iphone!!

Om Shanti
RT

The Endless Summer

2010-08-11T10:20:00.001-07:00

Hello Beautiful Yogis,

It's been a very hot, and very busy summer!

I've taken more than a few opportunities to enjoy the glorious beach weather (the ocean has been spectacular), but I've also been working on, and planning, lots of new classes and projects for the Fall, including a teacher's immersion (co-taught with my dear friend and colleague Antonio Sausys) that will help yoga teachers and health professionals bring the magic of yoga to anyone suffering with cancer, as well as some soothing aromatherapy, healing Reiki, and re-energizing back workshops. Please check the schedule below for exact dates, locations, and times.

This week and next I'm covering two extra classes at the peaceful, zen-like Yoga Loft:
Gentle Hatha 9:45 AM on Tuesdays (in addition to my regular 8:15 Therapeutic Flow), and 8:30 AM on Thursdays.

Hope to meet you on the mat sometime soon...meantime, continue to enjoy the lazy, hazy days of summer!!

Love and Light,
RT

For Fit Yoga Fans - With Gratitude

2010-04-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

During the course of the last several months, many Fit Yoga fans have been asking where and when the next issue would be published; and naturally, some inquires have been angry, especially regarding subscriptions. I decided to write this blog in an effort to clarify matters as well as to assure each of you that my intentions as the editor-in-chief are, and have always been, honorable.

Last year at this time the economic fallout hit the publishing industry hard, and as you know many well-respected, long-established magazines had to close down. Some hard business decisions had to be made, and it soon became clear that in order for Fit Yoga to survive on any level, our magazine would need to go on hiatus so we could regroup, and take a few deep breaths.

My hope was that by this time we would have been able to re-launch Fit Yoga in a new format and continue on the path of exchanging and sharing our love of all things yogic. Since Fit Yoga had always been the “little engine that could” all of us who have worked so hard on every issue held tightly to the intention of coming back as soon as possible. I was confident that February, 2010 would see our new launch hit the stands but unfortunately things have not been settled yet. Meantime, I’ve been trying to maintain some sort of connection to our readers by sending out occasional e-newsletters while planning some spectacular retreats and stories for the months ahead.

I understand the frustration many of you have shared, probably better than you can imagine. I know you miss the magazine and that you’re angry about your subscriptions. Trust me when I say that I too am upset, and miss the job I loved so dearly with every fiber of my being--not to mention the regular paychecks. To say it’s been a rough road is a huge understatement but what makes it infinitely worse is the knowledge that some people are holding strong animosity towards me personally.

Of course I get it...I am the “face” of Fit Yoga and the logical person to turn to, and although a $20 or $30 subscription doesn’t seem earth shattering in the big picture, it’s one more annoyance to deal with, and one that you wouldn’t expect to have with a yoga magazine. I’m so very sorry that things have unfolded they way that they have, and if I could, I would fix every single subscription snafu personally. What I can offer is this blog, along with informative e-newsetters, and my sincere intention that Fit Yoga will be back on the streets soon.

My personal practice, along with teaching yoga has helped me cope during this last year, proving once again that the practice of yoga in all forms is the key to patience, understanding, and compassion. Although the business decisions are out of my hands, as an editor, yoga teacher, and student I strive to practice with integrity in all that I do, and I remain optimistic about the future of Fit Yoga.

My heartfelt thanks to all our loyal readers -- more updates, interesting stories, comments, and products from past and new contributors will be coming your way on this blog as well as in e-newsletters. Please do contact me at ritatude@gmail.com if you would like to be on my mailing list.

Perhaps someday soon I’ll see you in class, on a retreat, or at the very least we’ll once again connect on the pages of Fit Yoga magazine. Wishing each of you abundance, grace, and courage.

Love and light,
Rita

[For all subscription inquiries please contact George Agoglia: gagoglia@gmgpub.com]

Ready, Set, Launch!

2010-03-29T20:37:00.001-07:00

I know, I know...Blogging ain't my strong suit but I have a very good excuse: In addition to teaching more than ever, I've been working hard on several new and exciting projects with people I love and respect beyond measure.

A few weeks ago Yoga for You was launched offering a number of different yoga programs based on the premise that everyone can benefit from well run, legitimate yoga programs and events. Our focus is to bring yoga out of the regular studio setting and into hospitals, clinics and doctors' offices in a safe and productive way. Read all about our plans at yogaforyouevent.com
My partners Nicole and Michelle, as well as myself, would love to know what you think.

And just last week my dear friend Donna Kuebler and I launched Elemental Yoga Retreats (retreat.elementsyoga.com), providing yoga teachers, students, and curious seekers with affordable yet lux options to create customized yoga/wellness retreats. To celebrate our launch we're raffling a fabulous weekend for two at Mohonk Mountain House this coming April. All you have to do is log onto our site and send us your name and email on or before the drawing on April 12. You can even enter once a day to increase your chances of winning.

I'm sure these new ventures will provide me with plenty to talk about over the coming months, and I'm hopeful my blogging skills will be greatly improved too!

Maybe I'll see you at Mohonk -- just remember you've got to be in it to win it!

Happy Spring!
RT

There's something about Baron

2010-01-17T14:48:00.000-08:00

Last week I had the very great pleasure of reconnecting with one of my favorite teachers, and was thrilled to be able to hit the mat as Baron Baptiste guided my practice once again.

It was more than a few years ago when I signed up for a week-long immersion with Baron, entitled Teacher's Revolution. I knew I needed some kind of revolutionary kick in my butt, because even though I had been teaching for a while, my sparsely attended classes seemed to be a testament to my lack of confidence and abilities.

I remember being completely intimidated by all the yoga teachers in the room. They each seemed so strong in every way, while all I felt was inadequate in every way. But after the third 10-hour day of INTENSE practice, in-depth theory, and hands-on instruction, a strange thing started to happen: My ego became exhausted and I actually began to let go of my attachment to what I could or couldn't do, and, best of all, started to embrace my strengths. I remember riding the subway home feeling giddy and energized and renewed. By day four, I mustered up the courage to ask Baron about what I could/should do as a teacher, to deal with a particularly challenging student. I whined about how "she said this and asked me that...blah, blah, blah." He had been listening intently, and I expected him to provide some magical insight that would, at last, help me to put her in her place. Instead he looked into my eyes and said, "When you're ready to take your seat as a teacher, your students will listen." I was stunned, and more than a little embarrassed. I had to dig deep to keep from crying. But that evening, as I rode the F train home, I realized that Baron was exactly right; not believing in my ability as a teacher had been broadcasting self-doubt to each and every student.

I learned a lot about myself, yoga, and teaching after seven days with Baron, and very soon my own teaching began to blossom. I began to rely on my instincts instead of notes, and tapped into the hearts of my students for inspiration. I felt truly happy after every practice. In just a few months my classes were filling up, and my students were happy and healthy. I had finally been able to take my seat as a teacher, and found it to be welcoming as well as comfortable.

After this week's class, I related my story to Baron as he smiled broadly. "That's really great Rita," he said, "I can see how much you love to teach. I feel the passion." "I've always wanted to thank you for that advice," I replied. "You helped me face my fears, and have faith in myself."

"Whatever happened to that student?" he asked.
"Oh that's an interesting story. One day after class she thanked me, and said that I had inspired her to become a teacher. And now she subs for me!"
"That's pretty cool," said Baron.
"Yeah it is. And she's a really good teacher too!"

Don't be afraid to shine...
RT

Thank You!

2010-01-11T07:48:00.000-08:00

It was a ridiculously cold and icy weekend here in the Northeast but that didn't seem to matter to this hardy yoga community. Special thanks to everyone who attended my sold-out Aroma/Detox yoga class on Saturday, and an extra special hug to the Greenwich kula of yogis who showed up in force for Lululemon's Sunday morning community class - we broke a record with 61 attendees!!
I hope everyone is finding some warmth in their practice and allowing the shared love to inspire his or her journey.
Lots of love and big bear hugs to all!
RT
[Love my new Lulu pants and jacket!]

New year, new me, new blog

2010-01-04T10:34:00.000-08:00

Given the date of my last blog entry, I think it’s fairly clear that I don’t have the hang of blogging. Mostly because I’ve been doing a lot more teaching which translates into lots more running around. When I finally do have a block of time to myself, I usually have overdue bills to pay and deadlines to keep so writing a new blog inevitably takes a back seat. But I promised myself that 2010 will be different and I will make a conscious effort to exercise, eat well, take better care of my body, and yes -- blog. I realize that these self-contributions will help to keep my body running smoothly, my mind clear and focused, and my heart open. They also, very often, become shared experiences, even if they don’t always start out that way, and in my view, sharing the experience of our individual journeys is what will keep all of us moving in the direction of understanding, compassion and hopefulness.

And I do have hope for this new year as well as this new decade. I feel a renewed faith in myself, and all the gifts I have been blessed with in this life. I vow to embrace them as I allow my heart to fill up with the light of possibility and love. And I vow to shine that light onto each and every being that walks along my path or crosses it.

As yogis we can all make the same decision: To view this new decade-year-month-day- minute with an open heart, faith in ourselves, and a commitment to shine. For real.

Peace, love and understanding,
RT

Love & Death

2009-07-02T08:23:00.000-07:00

When I heard that Michael Jackson had suddenly passed, I was shocked but not really that surprised. In the last few years as his skin took on the look of alabaster and his features were sculpted into a doll-like mask, it seemed obvious that this was a tortured soul who was crying out for…help…love…truth…friendship…

But now, as life-after-Michael unfolds in the media, I am struck by the incredible outpouring of what seems to be love coming from ‘close friends’, family, and fans. Every TV channel, newspaper, talk show, and website replays a constant loop of Michael in various stages of skin color and diminishing features. His music is everywhere. He is praised for his songwriting, his dancing, his generosity and his kindness. A few weeks ago I doubt if many of these people would have admitted as much.

Without getting into a discussion about his innocence or guilt regarding charges of child molestation, after his acquittal, Michael left the country in a self-imposed exile. He felt betrayed and hurt. He was bankrupt and he couldn’t sell a record or fill a concert hall.

I can’t help but think that if one of the people claiming to be a close friend, or “brother” had reached out with an authentic heart and offered a loving hand, things might have been different. It’s obvious that many of his family and so-called friends saw Michael as a money train. He understood that; I think he probably even forgave it, and now that he’s gone and firmly established in the pantheon of celebrity royalty, that train is likely to deliver carloads of cash to whoever’s on board. I sincerely hope that the money is able to fill any holes in their hearts.

I don’t doubt that there are many fans and many friends who do truly love Michael. Maybe it took something as monumental as death to make them understand that love. It’s just too bad that Michael never heard the praise or felt much of the love. He needed it.

As yogis we can use this tragedy as a reminder about being compassionate. Some people are easier to love, while others are easier to judge. Each of us can surely make more of an effort to offer love instead of criticism. There may be someone in your life right now who is struggling terribly. A kind word, a genuine smile, or a warm hug may provide the only light in an otherwise gray existence. Remember that one small compassionate gesture can save someone’s life. Maybe one day, even yours.

Don’t stop till you get enough,
RT

Why New Yorkers begin to practice yoga long before they hit the mat

2009-06-10T08:46:00.000-07:00

There’s such a wide variety of yoga studios in NYC, you could probably take a month’s worth of classes and never visit the same place twice. You’ll never be bored and you’re bound to find the studio that exactly suits you, which is a wonderful benefit of living in the big city.

Actually getting to class, however, is not always easy, and requires a certain amount of patience and adaptability -- also a trademark of living in the big city. So if you’re not operating in the right mindset, by the time you reach your destination you might be so frazzled that it will take half the practice to de-stress from the trip, and the other half to prepare for the return.

Before I go any further I’d better explain that I live in Queens. For those of you who are not familiar with the metro area, Queens is one of five boroughs that comprise New York City. And although Manhattan-ites don’t believe it, we are a viable part of the city, proven by the fact that we pay city taxes, enjoy alternate side parking, and have relatively easy subway access. But I digress. [I’ll address that situation in a different blog.]

So let’s say you live in Queens and want to take a 10AM class in the Union Square area. First, plan on leaving your house by 8:15AM at the very latest [by the way that’s rush hour so don’t bet on getting a subway seat]. Depending on house location it may be necessary to drive to the subway. If it’s a Tuesday or Wednesday, count on looking for a parking spot for about 10 – 20 minutes because alternate side parking is in affect. [You might want to consider an early afternoon class on those days so that you can get a great spot precisely at 11AM when you can legally park on the alternate side.]* On Monday, Thursday and Friday it will take a little less time to find a spot but since everyone else knows this too, there’s usually more cars so it still takes a fair amount of hunting time.

Once you park [don’t forget the steering wheel lock – car thieves know you won’t be back for a while], get ready to enjoy a half-mile walk to the subway. Hopefully it’s not freezing cold, raining, snowing or unbearably hot. Once you get to the station, make sure that the subway lines are all running correctly. It’s not unusual for the express F train to go local without explanation, or to sometimes be re-routed on the E line which will end up taking you too far west. Most of the time, the local R train which stops directly in Union Square, will get stuck in between stations or be held up in a particular station for an undisclosed amount of time. At this point it’s a crapshoot so the best advice is to follow your intuition or take whatever comes first. [FYI: There is no train schedule. You simply stand in the station and wait.] My advice to hop onto an express F and walk the extra blocks to Union Square – the R is just too unreliable.

You might be wondering why, since you have a car, you wouldn’t simply drive to your destination. But traffic aside, the parking rules are even more complicated in Manhattan, which would mean you’d need to park in a lot. That’s usually pretty expensive unless you find something all the way cross-town. In that case you‘ll need to get your yoga booty back over to the east side which could take a while so allow for walking time--unless you take a cab. If you decide to taxi, add an additional ten dollars onto a $20 -$30 parking fee.

All of this travel negotiation is very good practice for non-attachment and letting go, and is one of the reasons why we’re great at going with the flow. It also serves as a reminder of the great dedication to practice we New Yorkers have necessarily cultivated.

If you’ve timed everything correctly and the Universe has been on your side, once you reach your destination you just might have enough time to roll out your mat and enjoy a few minutes to chill before class begins. Gratitude fills your being as you connect with the energy of the space and the other yogis, along with an unspoken camaraderie of the journeys that brought you all together.

Once the asana practice begins your body and mind are eager to leave behind the streets, and even though you can still hear the muffled sounds of traffic and distant sirens, yoga enables you to find the solace of your own inner tranquility. It may have been a circuitous path to class, but there is peace on the mat. At last.

Travel safely,
RT

*(Note: If you take a later class make sure class is over by 4PM so you can leave in time to avoid rush hour and possibly even get a seat. Or you can make plans with friends and leave after 7PM.)

A Rich Life

2009-05-28T06:57:00.000-07:00

These days my heart is heavy. It seems as though everything I thought I could count on is fading away. The economy has placed a terrible burden on everyone I know, and has hit publishing especially hard, resulting in the brief [hopefully] suspension of my beloved, little magazine. It’s kept me on the verge of tears for quite a number of weeks – it has been such a big part of how I define myself – and I felt as though it was a little bit like a child. But they say when one door closes another opens, and that doorway has gratefully led to more teaching, including the opportunity to instruct the stress management portion of the Ornish Program for the reversal of heart disease at Stamford Hospital.

Lucky for me that through all of my angst I have been able to pour out my worries and fears to my friend and teacher Sudharma, an 80-year-old Buddhist nun who had recently been living in London. Somehow Sudharma always knew exactly how to snap me out of my pity parties and would often admonish me by saying things like: “Why you worry you no more fancy famous editor? You do mush better work for people who suffer with heart.” When I shared my money concerns she reminded me about what was really important: “Having big house or new car or fancy things not make you rich. What in your heart make you rich. Love make you rich.”

Then last Friday I received the unbelievable news that my dear friend had passed away. She had a heart attack, and then during open-heart surgery, a stroke. She was gone. I can’t find the words to describe how I feel; devastated is a feeble understatement. We had been making so many plans for her visit this summer. She even wanted my daughter to take her surfing. The sadness is incredible.

Sudharma left behind no worldly riches – only her robes and her mala beads – but the richness of her life is evident. She was devoted to helping all those less fortunate, and worked tirelessly in homeless shelters. She spent years raising money for orphanages all around the world. In the last year of her life, she worked endless hours to start a home for girls who had suffered terribly in the sex trafficking trade in her homeland of Burma [Myanmar]. Sudharma had to battle all kinds of obstacles but the determination of her compassionate heart persevered and the home was finally opened. When the news of her passing spread through the Buddhist community, hundreds of nuns and monks sat in an all-night meditation vigil to honor the woman who had been their teacher and their friend.

Susharma lived a life of love and compassion. She loved to laugh and drink jasmne tea. She loved Buddha, her friends and the beach, and the fragrance and beauty of flowers shimmering in the early morning sun. She was the richest woman I ever knew.

I have nearly three hundred emails from my dear friend and someday, when the tears have stopped I will print each of them and keep them with me always. She sent me many Buddhist prayers and offered me such loving guidance. I know her words and her heart will continue to light my path, and when I’m getting a little too caught up in ‘Rita’s World’ I’ll try to remember that being a fancy, famous editor isn’t what defines me . It ‘s the love I hold in my heart.

I love you very much Sudharma. May your heart be at ease. May your heart be at peace.

RT

Take Your Seats

2009-05-20T18:57:00.000-07:00

Through a series of events too complicated to explain, I have recently acquired an e-pal. There’s nothing really extraordinary about trading daily e-mails, except that my new friend is a Buddhist nun I’ve never met.

In the beginning, our correspondence centered around my asking a lot of dharma questions, and her reminding me to meditate. Eventually, as our relationship has grown, our communication has become quite detailed and revealing, and I’ve come to appreciate her as a wise and wonderful teacher. I’ve always struggled a bit with Buddhist philosophy but, miraculously, my new friend has somehow gotten through to me. And as I muddle through life’s ups and downs and repeat the prayers she sends me, I try to smile as much as I can and let go of the things I can’t control. When I get stuck (which happens a lot), all I have to do is head for my keyboard.

Lately, though, things have taken a bit of a surprising turn, as my friend has started asking me for advice. Imagine that? You might ask yourself, as I have, what possible answers a middle-aged American woman could offer a 80-year-old Burmese Buddhist nun who has lived in a monastery since she was 10 or 12? But as it turns out, it seems I can offer very good counsel about social situations, woman stuff, and especially yoga: “Yoga good for joint I think. Much relax to take nap.”

It gives me a great sense of self-worth to be able to give someone I look up to and respect so much as a teacher any kind of valuable advice. And it makes me think about how all of us serve as teachers for each other. Each of us has a different life experience to draw from and a unique perspective to express, and sharing these experiences is what helps us to grow and to love without all the judgments. Even someone who is doing or saying terrible things is a teacher, as he or she can serve as a perfect example of what you don’t want to do or be. And though I may not agree with everything you say or believe, listening to you with an open mind and heart can only help me become a more compassionate person. Plus, there’s a very good chance I’ll learn something—about myself, or the world—in the process.

We’re all in this together, and all of us existing in the world at this particular time have some kind of karma to play out. So why not teach each other the very best we have to offer? Whether it’s pumping gas, explaining dharma, or simply offering love with no strings attached, it’s time for each of us to claim our special seat as teacher and to heed the words of my Buddhist teacher and friend: “Much remember to give lotus heart sun light for to grow. Much to open door to room in heart for air and light.” Namaste to that.

Keep the faith,
Rita

Be the Change

2009-05-20T18:49:00.000-07:00

As I write this letter, the presidential election has not yet been decided. The world is in an obvious state of flux, and I have found myself becoming more passionately political than ever. As with any passion, it can be hard to keep it in check, and I have noticed myself slipping a few remarks into my teaching—nothing too incendiary—just a funny reference here or there, but enough to make my choice clear. I didn’t think much about it at first, not until I began to notice how upset I would get when someone made a casual remark or reference about my candidate.

Then, I read something in a yoga book, where the teacher was explaining about changing people’s minds and the flow of energy. The point was simple: You will never change people’s minds by forcing your opinions or getting angry with them. You may make some headway with logic, but even that tact is likely to fail. The only effective way to cause change is to simply be the change. Living authentically in all your actions can, and does, eventually cause an energetic shift that may provoke change.

Another well-taken yogic point is that if you continually focus on negative aspects or poke fun or make disparaging remarks about a person or event, you are feeding into that person or event. You are giving that person importance by the simple fact that you are bringing attention their way. So, in the end, you will have contributed to their cause.

All of this made me rethink my actions, and I recalled that while many people laughed and shook their heads in agreement with my remarks, not everyone was smiling. There were obviously other opinions in the room, and I had probably made them angry and possibly even ruined their practice. Not a very thoughtful way for a yoga teacher to act.

From that point on, in the classroom, as well as out, I have stepped off my soapbox and kept my opinions to myself. People remain focused on their asanas and any political discussions take place where they belong—in the locker room, the parking lot, or at home. But if I do find myself engaged in a proper political discussion, I stay focused on the good points of my candidate, and try to listen with more compassion to opposing opinions. I’m pretty certain I won’t change my mind, but if I can listen and react with kindness and acceptance, I might be able to, at the very least, cause someone to respond with equal kindness.

And that’s change everyone can believe in.
Congratulations to our new president, let’s hope for better days ahead!

Namaste,
Rita

Time Out

2009-05-20T18:39:00.000-07:00

So there I was, lying in Savasana after a particularly invigorating yoga practice. Of course, I felt good. At least, I think I did. I was doing yoga, wasn’t I? I’d had a particularly hectic week doing yet another teacher training, going to the office, teaching, commuting, running errands, answering tons of e-mails, and planning the next few issues. As I rested in the pose of relaxation, I realized I was exhausted. But instead of feeling better, the class had actually added to my fatigue. I dragged myself off the mat and shuffled my way to the subway thinking all the while that I was actually too tired to stop and get something to eat. Sound familiar?

I know I’m not the only one who’s stretched too thin these days. The world continues to spin faster than ever as we all struggle to make ends meet, do good deeds, and live a happy life. Every now and then, it has to catch up with you. You know the feeling: You’re crashing into a wall of obstacles, and you simply don’t have the will or enough breath to exhale them all away.

As I plopped on my couch late that summer evening, I felt the weight of the world crushing my usually strong shoulders. So, I did what any good yogi would do. I broke down and cried—and continued to cry for a good while. I was at rock-bottom, and my world was spinning uncontrollably.

After a long, hot shower, I realized I probably didn’t need to check my e-mail for the 100th time and, honestly, the laundry could wait. Also, I could edit those stories over the weekend....and sub my classes...and maybe take tomorrow off. Why not get a massage and maybe even a pedicure, and let go of all those burdens (whether real or imagined)? I decided to call a time-out.

The next couple of days were heaven as I indulged in simply being. I attempted only the simplest tasks and considered an afternoon nap high-priority. Re-entering the world slowly, I joined a restorative class instead of my usual hustled flow. After two days of doing less, I felt myself emerge from the shadows with much more lightness. I was breathing more deeply. And my smile returned as I inhaled the last sweet smells of summer.

This is not to say that my burdens had magically disappeared or that my schedule had miraculously become less hectic. That stuff was still there waiting for me. What had changed was my approach to it all. I had realized that the best way to practice yoga isn’t always by pushing myself into a yoga class. Sometimes, doing yoga is all about creating space for yourself and having the good sense to call for a time-out.

Sweet dreams,
Rita

Across the Universe

2008-10-05T15:40:00.000-07:00

July 2007
I grew up in a family of artists, so as a little girl I was fortunate to have made numerous visits to New York’s many art museums. I think I was 10 when I discovered that I shared a birthday with the French impressionist Auguste Renoir. I was thrilled. He was definitely one of my favorites, and I remember thinking that sharing a birthday might have also infused me with some extra special creative powers of my own.

Turns out, I did end up going to art school and, as my journey continued, I was equally thrilled to learn that George Harrison--the quiet Beatle--was in the same birthday club as Renoir and me. It became clear to me that the universe was sending me a message: I was a creative soul.

Of course, now that I have the wisdom of some years, I realized that all of us have the seeds for being creative souls, it’s just that they’re not always nurtured. It may take some people a few extra turns on their particular path to find their artistic nature, and some never do. But there are a few very special souls who are blessed with creative presence right from the start--people like Peter Max.

You may have noticed something beautifully different about this issue’s cover. That’s because Peter brilliantly and generously added his special over-painting technique to yogini Lisa Matkin’s already gorgeous image. Peter, who is also a yogi, reached out to Fit Yoga about a year ago because he wanted to share his compelling story with our readers (page 46).

At that time I met with Peter at his New York studio and listened in wonder as he shared his incredible life’s journey with me. Always a prolific artist, once he found yoga, both his art and his life took on new meaning; and he used meditation to tap into his creative reserves. I was mesmerized by his charm. We later discovered that we both attended the same art school and had the same drawing teacher. I started to feel that same gleeful, artistic connection I felt as a little girl. And then things really got synchronistic. Peter began to talk of his connection to the Beatles (that’s a big deal if you’re a boomer like me) and, in particular, his special connection and friendship with George Harrison. It had all come together.

When I left Peter’s studio that frigid December evening, I barely felt the cold. Everything made sense. I felt completely connected to the universe, body and soul. I knew that no matter how many twists and turns my path had taken, I was in the right place.

And once again, I find myself feeling gratitude on my mat. For it is my yoga practice that allows my creative spirit to soar these days. And it is my practice that introduced me to Peter and enabled me to finally understand that all is one and one is

The Fixer

2008-10-05T15:39:00.000-07:00

February 08
Now and then, as I forge ahead with the daily routines of my life, I find myself wondering how it is that I haven’t yet collapsed into an exhausted, pitiful heap. I always have too much on my plate. Also I'm a "fixer." Meaning that I’m always trying to pick up the pieces for everyone. I just want everything to be all right.

This has caused me to muddle through situations with a certain amount of bravado, which I’m sure, helped to create perceptions about me that up until very recently, I felt were completely untrue.

For example, a few months ago my good friend Donna and I were discussing a particularly sticky situation when she said to me, "You are such a strong person Rita, I’m sure you can handle any problem that comes up." I started to laugh a little. "Why are you laughing," asked my always-supportive friend, "don’t you realize how strong you are?"

That wasn’t the first time I had heard that conclusion. Quite a number of people have made some casual and not so casual remarks about my supposed inner-strength as well as my physical stamina. Even after a recent shoulder injury one of my yoga teachers remarked on my speedy recovery. "Well I’m still a little sore," I said weakly. "I’m actually taking it easy today." "Really," he remarked incredulously, "you seem pretty strong to me."

What I’ve always thought about myself is that I’m very good at hiding stuff—probably from years of Catholic school, or growing up in a loud and big Italian family. I also hate being embarrassed, so I over-achieve and over-compensate to avoid any possibility of humiliation. Was my practiced stoicism being misconstrued as strength? Or, could it be that in my muddled haze, I had not been seeing a clear picture of myself? Could they be right? Maybe I wouldn’t end up a pitiful heap after all.

I began to observe other people. I noticed quite a few who define themselves by the drama that always surrounds them, and then there are those that think being a victim is the way to get people to love you. Some like to belittle in order to feel superior, while others charge into the world with way too much audacity, a sure sign of insecurities ahead. This is not to say that I don’t recognize myself in each and every one of the aforementioned traits. But I do know that my yoga practice has helped with the ongoing task of removing many of my masks. It has also helped me realize that each new day is another opportunity to bravely choose not to define myself, or let myself be defined, by negativity in any form.

And so it is that my perceptions have begun to shift. Maybe it’s not that I’m hiding things, maybe I’m simply handling them. It could very well be that what others perceived about me is reality. And I can certainly deal with that.

Embrace your power…

An Ageless Aura

2008-10-05T15:37:00.001-07:00

October 2007
While we were putting this issue together, the staff here at Fit Yoga was also very busy with our very first conference. It was all very exciting and, even though it was a lot of hard work, what became crystal-clear to me was how very fortunate we all are to be a part of this ever-expanding yoga community we call a kula. It was truly remarkable to see the pure joy on the faces of yogis and yoginis as they were able to meet and practice with so many of the yoga world’s luminaries, and to also observe teachers enjoying and supporting each other’s classes.

As I wandered in and out of the classrooms and greeted so many of the participants, I noticed many different shapes and ages, city people and country folks, advanced practitioners and newbies--all happily sharing their love of yoga. And the combination of all their minor and major epiphanies and experiences created an overall vibe of unconditional kindness mixed in with a fair amount of bliss.

What I discovered about the creation of these blissful conditions is that they are always reflected on people’s faces. Chronological age seems to be irrelevant if you’re a yogi, because what comes through is what is purely and authentically you. The number of birthdays you’ve had is just a marker—it’s simply a way for non-practitioners to keep life’s score.

So when the conference ended and I settled back into work, I had a funny little epiphany of my own. I realized that the people pictured on these pages range in age from eight months old to 63. They are boys and girls, and men and women, some are tall, some are short, some are thin, and some are fuller-figured, but all have one thing in common: They are ageless. Each of them radiates their own sparkle of pranic energy.

The happiness that shines from the hearts and minds of these--and all--yogis reminds me that it’s only natural for our kula to continue to expand. Because sooner or later, everyone will discover that it’s fairly easy to shine with an ageless aura, and face each day ready to embrace the endless possibilities…all they have to do is step onto their mats.

Namaste

Gentle smiles and sweet sunsets

2008-10-05T15:36:00.000-07:00

April 08
In another life I was a bona fide gym rat. Aerobics, weight training, step class…also I was a personal trainer and a kickboxing instructor. So round about mid-winter I was fried and usually needed a week or two of beach vegging and absolutely no contact with anything remotely to do with a gym.

But now that I’m a full-time yogi, I don’t have the same feelings. Not to say that I don’t need a break from my usual routine—after all it’s been proven that it’s healthy to take a breather—but I still want and need to practice everyday and even more importantly, I don’t want to stop teaching.

Then last year, my friend Jane Fryer offered me a wonderful opportunity. She asked me, along with my dear friend Bruce, to come and teach on one of her exotic and popular Inward Bound yoga retreats. Having never been on a destination retreat, I didn’t know what to expect but as soon as we arrived at Round Hill on the island of Jamaica, I knew I was in for a very unique experience. I can’t even begin to describe the natural beauty of the country – the clear Caribbean water, the lush plant life, and the friendly faces of the Jamaican people all came together to welcome us with warm smiles.

Our work-weary group was small but ready to be refreshed by the island breezes and restored by daily practice. At the end of our first day together I had already forgotten about how cold it had been back home and for the first time in many months I couldn’t see any need to check email—certainly nothing could be that important.

I looked forward to both teaching and taking class every day. I felt such a deep connection to nature as we practiced together under a fragrant tree canopy. Small lizards darted around our mats and occasionally up an arm or a leg, and at the end of each late afternoon practice we were silently and spectacularly saluted by a luxurious tropical sunset.

Up until that time I had always practiced indoors, with the honking of a busy city clamoring outside the windows. Of course the practice had always helped me find my inner paradise, but there was something about actually being in nature – feeling the breezes, smelling the ocean, watching other forms of life thriving – that helped al of us to see a much bigger picture and experience a bigger connection. We could see for ourselves how we fit into the natural landscape of the universe, and even to understand how the ancient yogis might have been inspired to create these artful shapes we call asana.

In the end I realized that it wasn’t so much about "getting away" as it was about getting reconnected. And even though it was hard to go back to studio practice, in my heart I’m always under the tree canopy in Jamaica, learning my asana from the gentle smiles and sweet sunsets that will forever be in my heart.

Give yourself a break…and enjoy!

Getting what you give

2008-10-05T15:35:00.000-07:00

December 07
When my daughter was little it seemed like the holiday season was much more festive and meaningful – we’d bake Christmas cookies, trim the tree and sing along to the ever-classic Johnny Mathis Christmas Album. Then of course there were all the presents – I always took such special care to wrap them in coordinating ribbons and paper. And at the end of Christmas morning we’d sit exhausted amidst the chaos of torn wrappings and boxes, happily wearing our new hats and gloves as we scoffed down a hearty breakfast.

But in recent years it seems like the onset of the holidays has become an intrusion. I’ve found myself wishing that we could somehow skip over the season so that we could get on with what really matters [work?]; or absolutely resenting that I feel so obligated to spend hard-earned cash on gifts that – it seems to me - very often go unappreciated. Or even worse, receiving things you just know you’ll never use. [Note to family: I am, and have always been, severely allergic to wool!] In a way preparing for big holiday events had become a bit of drudgery.

As we were putting this issue together I started to think about my bah-humbug attitude. As a yogi I know that if you put out bad energy, whether it be through words or feelings, you can be pretty sure that’s what’s going to come back to you. I think it has something to do with Karma.

Of course those long-ago Christmas mornings were not very eco-friendly but the intention was about creating a warm and cozy atmosphere and lovely memories. So why, I wondered, have things gotten so un-cozy? Could it be because my gifts were not being given or received with the right intentions? Was my resentment coming through as I cooked Christmas Eve dinner and wrapped yet another present that I bought in too much of a hurry?

So this year, as I prepare for the season of joy, my intention is to approach it with grace and good will and with the utmost respect for the earth. The gifts I have been choosing are not based so much on monetary value. Instead I’m thinking of small useful items that will evoke pleasant memories and meaning. My wrappings are still lovely but now I try to use a beautiful cloth or scarf or at least recycled paper. Reusable string, tree branches, leaves and flowers make a beautiful alternative to manufactured ribbons.

I find myself looking forward to this holiday season for the first time in many years. I feel like I am practicing my yoga with every gift I give. And I have a feeling that I won’t be getting any wool sweaters this year. Karma.

Be joyful!

The eye of the beholder

2008-10-05T15:34:00.000-07:00

June 2007

Although I’m certainly not obsessed by celebrity, I’m as curious as the next person when comes to red carpet fashion and beauty secrets of the stars. I mean don’t we all have some small hidden desire to be universally admired? Okay… well maybe not everyone but I admit that sometimes I do wonder what it would be like to wake up in the morning and see Gwyneth Paltrow looking back at me in the mirror. It HAS to be easier…

The thing about being so obviously beautiful is that it does open more than a few doors in life. It’s a fact that good-looking people get better jobs and better salaries and overall better treatment. You may not want to admit it but I’m sure you’ve even been guilty of giving preference to a dazzling persona of some sort. It’s human nature – we’re creatures that are naturally drawn to beauty.

What I love about yoga practice is that it just about always helps you to see, very clearly, certain aspects of yourself. And recently, as I passed another milestone in my life, I realized how caught up I was in my not-so-obvious beauty. Always dissatisfied with this or that, and always disappointed that there wasn’t even a hint of Gwynnie in the mirror. I made up my mind to find a positive path out of my personal disapproval and hopefully find a way into a deeper, more fulfilling and less judgmental consciousness.

I devised a very private practice: For one week my task was find something that was truly beautiful about every person I came in contact with. Here’s what I discovered: the check-out girl at the market has the most beautiful green eyes underneath the heavy make-up and overdone hair; the gentleman in dirty overalls who pumps my gas has the kindest smile and always reminds me to drive safely; my daughter looks spectacular in periwinkle blue; the security guard in my office building happily greets everyone by name and keeps diligent count till the weekend; my yoga teacher has the most amazing ability to explain the subtleties of asana with melodious ease; the faces of my students smiling back at me fill me with joy; my grandmother’s hands are fragile and lovely; the woman practicing next to me has really gorgeous feet… and so on and on.

What I discovered is that beauty comes in all forms. Some of it is obvious and some of it requires a little more insight. But it IS all around us and each one of us has it in one form or another. Discovering true beauty usually requires more than simply looking in the mirror – the real beauty is in our hearts. And when we give from our hearts, whether it be a kind word or a warm smile or a gentle touch, we can open a hundred doors, because that’s when we’re truly, absolutely, radiantly gorgeous.

Be your beautiful self!
RT

Blissful thinking

2008-10-05T15:33:00.000-07:00

April 2007
This is the time of year I usually dedicate a fairly good portion of my days complaining about the long, and dreary winter. But this year those of us who reside in the northeast have very little to gripe about. Thanks to El Nino [and unfortunately maybe a little global warming] we’ve had quite a mild season. So no complaints from me…okay well maybe just one: since it was so relatively mild, there was very little opportunity to hibernate -- which means not very many obvious opportunities for quiet reflection or meditation.

Those of us who do yoga certainly realize the value of this very necessary component of our practice but we often don’t make the time for a regular meditation practice. Speaking for myself, if I’m not forced into quiet, snowed-in moments I will rarely make the time to meditate even when that’s exactly what I need the most. It’s just easier to do asana or get involved in some other activity – meditating can be a difficult practice – at least it is for me.

But as this gentle winter comes to a close, I’ve slowly come to understand the need to become a clearer, calmer yogi. So I search for ways to meditate within my busy-ness. I don’t have the time to escape to a solitary beach or lonely mountaintop. I can’t run away from the honking horns or the screaming sirens of this big city I live in. I’m learning to find the quiet space within myself.

Admittedly it’s not so easy but I’m progressing. And it has made me realize that all of us have to function in the world and within our own particular chaotic lives. We all must learn to deal with our particulars as best we can. As yogis we try to live with as much grace and lovingkindness as possible but sometimes—because we’re human---we find ourselves melting into the chaos. And that’s when and why we need our meditation practice the most.

So the next time you react with anger or self-pity or jealousy, take a few minutes to journey inward. Look for that quiet, lovely, solitary space. Fill up with the goodness that is inherently in you. Let the horns honk and the chaos swirl. Then, when you feel the calmness and the clarity washing away the darkness, return to your busy-ness and shine your light. You’ll be amazed at how much people will appreciate the glow.

The True Yogi

2008-10-05T15:32:00.001-07:00

February 2007

"Yoga can be a rough sport," said a good friend of mine as I whined to him about yet another yoga-related injury. In recent months I had found myself visiting yoga therapists and various other body-workers almost as much as I was practicing. And while I can blame the inevitable aging process for part of the problem, there seemed to be more to it than additional birthday candles…

What was going on?

So on my next visit to the yoga therapist [who by now, is also a friend], I asked him precisely that. "What exactly are you doing in your practice?" he asked. I began to relate all the classes and workshops I had been attending – the very least of them intermediate but most of them advanced. I had been determined to get a solid grasp on some poses that had thus far eluded me: intricate arm balances and inversions that took their names from the insect world. "And why do you feel the need to master these asanas?" he asked politely. "Well to become a better yogi – to be an advanced yogi," I replied. "So your interpretation of an advanced yogi is someone who can do Scorpion Pose?"

Hmmm.

My very wise friend – who has spent a good deal of time studying and living in India -- set me straight that day. In fact, I had a bit of an epiphany.

"A true yogi," he explained, "is someone who approaches his or her entire life with an open heart and mind. They are kind and loving, and they strive to do good work in the world. It seems to me, that you are doing just that. You are a dedicated teacher, and you share knowledge with the world through your magazine. So you see, you are already an advanced yogi."

Our conversation continued for the rest of the session, and I slowly began to realize the wisdom of his words. It made me think about why I have been equating being an advanced yogi with the degree-of-difficulty of my practice. Was it just my Western mind convoluting Eastern sensibility? I thought I needed tangible proof of an advanced practice, but for whom? And why? The end result of all this self-imposed pushing was that I was hurting myself. Surely, I wasn’t practicing ahimsa. And if I’m not paying attention to the yamas and niyamas, how could I ever call myself "advanced"?

Since that day, I’ve come to realize that people in the West – especially in America – often define ourselves by the goals we set. And many of us get so caught up in reaching those goals that we miss out on the process that took us there. But yoga IS a process. There is no end goal – it just simply is.

And so I continue to learn to be in my process, and when I find myself in an "advanced" class, I happily opt to skip the Scorpion whenever I can.

Stay healthy!

Finding Peace

2008-10-05T15:31:00.001-07:00

August 2006
Those of us who practice regularly eventually come to understand what a comfort yoga can be. Whether it’s at the end of a stressful day or the beginning of a new one, coming to the mat has the ability to wipe away the anxiety of missed deadlines, or open the heart to accept whatever gifts might be coming our way. For people living busy lives in a whirling world, yoga surely is the perfect elixir for body and soul.

Then just the other day I received an email from an unusual source – a naval aviator named LT Jason Payne. Along with his short note was a picture of two American soldiers practicing yoga on the deck of an aircraft carrier. At first it seemed a little shocking – soldiers practicing such a peaceful art – but a closer look made me smile. Appropriately enough they are standing very enthusiastically in Warrior II – flight suits, heavy boots and all. And on their faces their serene smiles relay a sense of inner calm that only yogis can truly understand. I began to think about their situation – that any minute they could be called into action and possibly face horrific consequences. Certainly that’s more stress and anxiety than most of us will ever have to deal with in our "busy" lives. But thankfully yoga is there on board that ship, halfway around the world, for these young warriors.

Surely we can all agree that war is a tragedy for all of us who live on this earth but it is especially heartbreaking for those young men and women and their families, who are putting their lives on the line day after day. I’m not sure that there could ever be a good enough reason for this to be happening in the 21st Century, but it is. And it makes me feel a little bit better to know that these brave young people might be able to find some solace on the mat.

I often think about the soldiers in this picture. I don’t know who they are or how they are but I do know that as I lay my head down in Child’s Pose, they may be doing the same thing. And somehow our consciousness is connecting and we are able to send good intentions via this connection and I am able to say silently, thank you for being so brave--please stay safe, and perhaps they are saying thank you for keeping us in your hearts. I don’t know but I like to think that this is so.

And I am so very grateful for the practice. And as I step into Warrior II, I make a conscious effort to be enthusiastically courageous in my relatively safe existence.

Om Shanti
Rita Trieger

The Company You Keep

2008-10-05T15:28:00.000-07:00

August 2008
As a younger woman I never really had a lot of girlfriends. A prepubescent, rather nasty snub from the sixth grade female "in-crowd" had soured me on the trustworthiness of other women that lasted well into my third decade. And although I had one or two or three very fine "best" male friends along the way, I never could seem to cozy up to the idea of confiding in another woman, which by the way, was fine with me.

Then few years ago I started to form a friendship with a group of women at work. There were five of us in all and we came from very different paths. That didn’t seem to matter though; and even as we scattered to other jobs, we regularly planned get-togethers and always had way too much fun. [Kind of like a more cerebral, creative Sex and The City without the expensive shoes.]

It was at this point that I realized what I had been missing. All those years of shutting out female companionship had left a hole in my heart that was becoming joyously filled with female camaraderie, when, suddenly, my beautiful, womanly world collapsed. The details require a few hours and some good red wine but the end result was me with a broken heart and no best girlfriend[s]. Sixth grade redux.

But lucky for me this time around I had yoga to turn to, and I did. I stepped onto my mat as a pitiful victim and pouted my way through a few weeks worth of practice before I began to realize that I had choices in this whole scenario-- and also responsibilities. Situations, both good and bad, don’t happen to you unless you let them. Slowly I began to realize that I had certainly had a part in the collapse, and I also realized that I could choose to forgive them--and myself--and choose to remember the lesson learned instead of harboring bitterness and blame.

That realization helped me to make better choices about the company I keep, and today I am regularly astonished at the breadth of my female companions. They are each of them warm and loving and full of grace and I adore them with all my heart.

As for my former friends…well, I’ll always be grateful. Because I do have some wonderful memories, and because what happened between us made me examine my own intentions and actions, and at long last allowed me to have the strong female companionship I always craved.

Love you girlfriends,
[You know who you are!]
Rita

Every Single Second…

2008-10-05T15:25:00.000-07:00

August 2007
I can still remember the first time I walked into the Wednesday evening class I now teach regularly. I was incredibly nervous and not feeling very confident. I opened the door and exchanged furtive glances with about six equally nervous beings, all in various stages of cancer treatment. The hospital where I teach yoga had just received a grant to start an Integrated Medicine program specifically for cancer patients. Everyone involved was feeling equal parts excited and cautiously expectant. I had only ever taught vigorous Vinyasa flow. I had no idea what to expect. And adding to my fear was my resistance to dealing with cancer on any level, even though it wasn’t happening to me.

As the weeks turned into months and then years (four-and-a-half so far), I learned a lot about cancer and the often-terrible toll it takes on an individual and his or her family, but I also learned much more about how to live authentically and compassionately—and how truly wonderful and magical yoga can be.

Throughout these many Wednesday nights, students have come in and out of practice. Some have gone into remission and back into the world, while sadly, others have passed on. But many remain—not because they’re sick, but because they have come to depend upon our weekly sadhana as a way to maintain a healthy body and mind.

Cancer, they tell me, has taught them to stop racing through life – it’s made them understand and appreciate every single second in a way that only something this devastating can. And the love and support that flows between us all in every class is like a cushion of light. And this light is able to shine because of yoga – each mat serving as a laboratory for self–realization and discovery— a serene and loving space to investigate our bodies and quiet our minds.

We’ve shared many, many life experiences – birthdays, retirements, a clean bill of health —and these days I often find myself looking forward to Wednesdays so that I can figure out how to illuminate some personal situation. Because my friends are wise. Cancer has shown them how to comfort, and how to laugh, and most of all, how to really LIVE. And yoga continues to provide a path for further transformation.

This issue of Fit Yoga is dedicated to each of them: Joan, Susan, Ned, Norma, Robin, Janet, Donna, Janet K., and all the others who have shared our practice. Thank you all for helping me find my truest self and shining your lights in my heart.

And to all our Fit Yoga readers, I urge you to stop, take a moment to breathe, then send out into the universe an intention of gratitude. We are so lucky to be yogis.

Namaste
Rita

Metamorphosis

2008-10-05T15:23:00.000-07:00

March 2006
Winter always seems longer than the other seasons, doesn’t it? When you look at a calendar, it’s obvious that the blustery days last approximately the same length of time as the sublime summer ones, but somehow—maybe it’s the inclement weather or the longer nights—winter seems to drag.

But I’ve been approaching winter in a different way lately. And even as the golden light of spring perches on the horizon, I’m thinking that carrying over some remnants of the long hibernation might not be a bad idea.

As yogis, we’re always reminded about looking inward, and winter is the perfect environment for introspection in both asana and meditation practice. It’s an ideal opportunity to work on that vast internal universe, and look for the seeds of authenticity in ourselves.

By coming onto our mats and allowing ourselves to be wrapped in the warm cocoon of positive yogic energy, we’re able to get a good look at our true essence—and to set intentions for change. We use our asanas to melt physical obstacles, and we use meditation to see and understand more clearly.

Now that a new season is ready to debut, we can take all these self-realizations up to a new level of awareness. And as we emerge from our winter cocoons with a new self-perspective, perhaps our outward perspective will take on a new and improved view. Perhaps we’ll be able to approach life with more forgiveness, a lot more love, and a lot less judgment.

So as you get ready to step into spring, by all means shed the negative vibes that may be hanging around—just make sure you keep the good stuff safely tucked inside.

Namaste,
Rita

No Fear

2008-10-05T15:20:00.000-07:00

Why in the world are we here_
Surely not to live in pain and fear
Instant Karma
John Lennon

The world can be a scary place. For some, who are trying to survive in war zones, there is a real danger to face, while others may be dealing with a different kind of destruction, such as a life-threatening illness in themselves or a loved one. The rest of us lucky beings simply have to deal with life’s daily wrenches—some of them legitimately scary, while other stuff that we perceive as frightening could actually be a blessing in disguise, like losing a job or ending a relationship.

Of course, if you’re lucky enough to have a thriving yoga practice, you’re likely to find yourself facing your fears and learning to deal with them on an almost daily basis—whether you want to or not. Every time we step onto the mat, we have an opportunity to study our innate reactions to difficult situations. How we handle problems on the mat is like gazing into our own personal looking glass and seeing the truth about our innermost feelings. And, sometimes, it’s not very pretty.

I remember when I first began a serious practice, I used to find the most hidden spot in the room because I didn’t want anyone to see me struggling or, heaven forbid, failing. When it came time for inversions, I always headed for the bathroom—I’d rather run away than face the embarrassment of not succeeding. As I became more involved in the philosophy of yoga, I began to make the inevitable connection between my actions on the mat and my actions in life. I realized that I had been spending a lot of time and energy running away from problems rather than confronting them. It was never my fault—it was always because someone else didn’t understand me.

Eventually, my asana practice gave me the insight and courage to be a better human being. Certainly, I still have plenty of personal dilemmas to work through, but I find that I’ve become much kinder and much more forthright. And although I may still look for a less obvious position to place my mat in class I rarely, if ever, choose to leave the room.

Shine On,
Rita

The Good in All of Us

2008-10-05T15:18:00.000-07:00

Not long ago I was enjoying a lovely al fresco lunch with one of my dearest friends. We were having a great time people watching [it’s a sport here in NYC] when she suddenly remarked, “Look at that girl – she has the quintessential yoga body.” I followed her gaze and found myself staring at a lithe, long-legged beauty. And while it was true that this lovely creature did have a yoga mat stylishly slung over one shoulder, if her figure was the yoga-body barometer where did that leave the thousands of women who are more…let’s say…shapely, and not quite so lithe? In other words—where did it leave me?

My heart sank a little as I watched this graceful beauty casually stroll away. It’s not like I hadn’t had a similar thought from time to time. For me there have been many wistful moments in yoga class—when longer arms would have made a twisting lunge less of a struggle, and a little less flesh might have enabled a more graceful arm balance. And even as I try to find balance in every area my life, maintaining a healthy attitude about my body is always a high priority. Because although I may be ultimately striving for higher consciousness, I am, after all, an American woman, living in a youth-obsessed culture, in the middle of the fashion capital [read: model central] of the world.

Of course studying yoga and practicing asana does help put things in perspective and while I do have glimpses of self-acceptance I still feel the pressure—I freak-out if I go up a size in jeans, I’m on a perennial diet, and always feel just a little disappointed when I see myself in the mirror.

But when I feel myself spiraling into this world of pitiful self-despair I try to remember what a yoga teacher once told me when I complained about my too-short arms. He said, “in a way you’re really lucky that binds and twists don‘t come so easily – it means that you have to really think about your whole body getting involved in the pose, and you need to figure out how you can use all of your tools – your breath, your awareness—to find a way in…and that’s the yoga. Those people that have a natural ability because of long limbs or a thinner physique may spend years doing asana before they discover the truth of their practice.”

I think of his words in almost every class just as I though of them during that lunch. And as I found myself reconnecting to the ground and climbing out of self-pityland, I heard my friend saying, “but you know Rita, you have one of the best chattaranga’s I’ve ever seen --- I wish I had your upper-body strength.” “Oh yeah,” I thought, “that’s one of my good points.”

Namaste,
RT