To Surf or Not to Surf - Japan Pacific Ocean

I started body-boarding regularly in 2000, and probably didn't actually start riding waves properly for a couple of years after that, by then it was a twice a week trip to the sea, from May to October.  Just something I did, enjoyed the thrill of riding waves and being in the sea, away from it all with chilled people.

It wasn't until the Earthquake/Tsunami/Nuclear Meltdown trio occurred when my heart was breaking did I fully realise just what an important part of my life it was.  And actually I still didn't realise this until I went for the first time in the Summer of 2012 and remembered just how good I felt, how much more alive.  It was then I knew what had been missing, why things had felt flat, something not right. I'd never identified, or labelled myself as a body-boarder, it was just something I did.  Just a part of my life.

For anyone who have never surfed waves, how to explain this feeling. There is nothing else quite like it, snowboarding powder is the closest I've come to it, but still not quite there.  To ride a wave, to be one with the sea, flying along on the energy in the wave, connection, oneness and total concentration.  Nothing else exists.  It is a very yogic state to be in.  No wonder there are so many surfing yogi.  Ride one good sized wave, and any stress, worry, tension just disappears, replaced with a grin and the best feeling of exhilaration, oneness and calm.

However, my local surf spot was wiped out in the tsunami, including the schools, houses, and shops around. It wasn't a built up area in the first place, but the scene immediately after was, well, devastating.



We went out there the day after the quake, all emmersed in sea water.

The next year, 2012, we went, there had been a Buddhist ceremony on the beach for the souls of those not found.  There were mountains of debris, as far at the eye could say, people steadily working to sort, shift and dispose, little by little.  Brand new shiny incinerators dotted the coast line.

2012 Remains of House after Tsunami.  Some only the concrete foundations were left.

Mountains of Debris

Nature returns regardless.  In the background you can see temporary quarters for workers and an incinerator. 

Working, little by little, on what must have, at the beginning, seemed like an endless task.

The following year, 2013,  I can't remember, as that was when and where I finished off my knee and went in for surgery the next day.

This year though, the mountains of debris were gone, as were the incinerators, all that was left were shards of pottery in the dirt and a huge new sea wall constructed.  There is still work going on, and rumours that they might make facilities for a surf spot.  It is where I've been going since I started, it's my local place.

New Sea wall, gleaming new, stretching for kilometres.  Debris and Incinerators all gone.

Seeing this made me very optimistic and hopeful. Despite all the cristiscm in the papers, I see people, in all areas inJapan working as hard as humanly possible to rebuild and recover, and this is beautiful.  We also drive past temporary housing complexes, and I really feel for those, they have lost everything, and are still in cramped, rabbit hutch like living quarters.  But work is in progress.

But, it is also relatively close to the nuclear power plant in Fukushima.  So the decision to surf or not has been a very tough and emotional one. On the one hand I am yearning to get in the sea, yet on the other fear of radiation consumes me.

You can read anything you want to believe on the internet, so it's hard to determine what is fact and what is rumour.  Radiation is a very emotive topic, one that seems to be fueled by misinformation, not to mention political and financial agendas on both sides.

So like the good yogi I try to be, I try to inform myself, with correct knowledge, and to not be a victim to fear and mass hysteria.  I have been looking at the facts and reading 'scientific' resources. But I am not a nuclear scientist, even though I probably have more knowledge in this field now than the average person, due to our proximity to Fukushima.  Our surf spot is 70 km north of the power plants and 12 km south of a big river that runs all through the mountains of Fukushima.

I decided to go back into the sea based on the figures that were being released from the radiation monitoring sites, all being way under that of the limit for drinking water.

So, the limit for drinking water in Japan (which is very strict compared to that of other countries in the world) is 10 Becquerels per litre.  Now, I saw that the water in the immediate vicinity of the power plants is generally coming in under 0.8 Bq/L and this is down current from where we surf.  For anyone interested here are the latest figures for the sea water, Sea Immediate Vicinity to Nuclear Power Plant, the levels on the sea bed however are another matter.  Radioactive particles, are heavy, and so gather on the sea bed.

The other concern lays in the river 12 km to the north.   No fooling, there is radiation in that river.  As I said it's heavy metal, and so the sediment in this river and on the banks have been shown to have levels of up to 2200 Bq/L.  But the water being measured at the mouth of the river is much lower,  in fact all results showing readings of under 1 Bq/L.

So one would presume that surfing a few hours a week, in the water, should be fine, right?  Also I found this article reassuring and well informed, rational, and well, the fear and stress, I do believe have a incredibly detrimental effect. OK so I won't be going as much as I used to for a while, but I've been twice this summer,  it felt good.

The fear I felt over the threat of radiation literally almost paralysed me, so much misinformation and fear mongering. Yes, these is danger, but sadly there is danger everywhere these days. As much as I love the internet and blogging etc there is a lot of misinformation, I do not want to add to this, and am learning to navigate my way through, searching for truth.  Whether it be about Yoga, Radiation, or whatever.  The age of information is indeed a double edged sword.

Psychosocial Themes in Yoga Injury

Thanks to a heads up from a kind comment left on the blog I came across a new blog.  Very interesting.  I shan't give my opinion in too much detail yet though as I still need to see more, mull it over.  I haven't seen much of his stuff yet, but shall be having a delve.

All I can say is I'm reassured that I find the content of the discussion, at times, shocking.  I practice and teach, and am relatively isolated.  I see a few teachers from time to time, go away and study, but generally keep myself to myself. I practice alone, and  like to research and check things out for myself, talk to other professionals.  Although, I  have heard, mainly from reading on line, what Matthew Remski talks of, it always seemed in some distant place.  Certainly not what I see in class around me.  I too hold a practice,  as the sutra says -2.16,  is one which helps to avoid future suffering (mentally and physically)  to be ideal, one which makes you stronger and calmer, more resilient.

I also find the way Remski deals with his data, classifying it and breaking it down very well done.  I graduated from University with a degree in Psychology and Health Psychology and this kind of discussion appeals to me.   A wonderful way to initiate intelligent inquiry, I hope  Keeping it anonymous is a good thing, we don't need accusations but rather education and change where it is needed.

Listening for pain in the body is a very delicate process.  The discomfort felt when working muscles is a good kind of pain.  The painful massage my physio gives my knee to soften the surrounding scar tissue is always rewarding with pain free walking, improved flexibility and generally feeling the better for it.

Also, the culture of praising those who are flexible is certainly one to watch for.  I see it a lot, some people are naturally more flexible. Rather let us praise concentration, ability to smile, to make efforts to change.

And yes, life can be tough on the body at times.  I have had injuries and ailments, but most of them have occurred being hit by cars while on my bicycle (twice!), riding down snowy mountains at high speed, being pregnant and miscarrying, losing muscle tone and revealing a hip deformity I was unaware of, contributing to knee problems, resulting in surgery. Oh, everyone has a story.  We all have lots going on in our lives.  I love to think that yoga is a tool for healing, as much through community and relationships built. Through it all I have kept a thread of yoga practice, with times of rest.  I am grateful to all the people around me.  We support each other. I felt that, throughout the years, it seems I have unconsciously spurred people on, encouraged and challenged, am well know for dragging people up mountains, and into rivers and on trips of discovery, and apparently helped shed some light. This time, when I was a bit down, these same people, and others, spurred me on, encouraged and supported me.   I am so very grateful to all these people and to my physiotherapist for helping me recover after surgery.  Still a work in progress, but it's happening.  Rebuilding my yoga practice little by little.

Most importantly though, is that one's practice will provide the energy and strength to enjoy life, and helps those around you to do the same.

One Year Post Surgery

Primary Practice 

Dripping sweat on tatami

Head Clear Body Strong

This year, since my knee surgery has felt like an eternity, ups and downs, leaps, bounds and plateaus. It's been a strange year. But one with a steep learning curve and a large dose of humility thrown in. I have learnt so much more about the way bodies work from my amazing physiotherapist.  Finally my muscles are almost balanced between right and left legs, sacrum is straight. I have learnt the very hard way that deep back bending is certainly not a good idea with a misaligned sacrum.  Flexibility is coming, as is strength.  Been hard work getting here, still a long way to go, but have hit an important milestone today.

For now I am pleased that I have finally made it through primary.  Even played with some second series asana today.

Hope to restart the blog properly. Have written numerous posts, but had no heart to publish.  Not sure why, when I need a cybershala most I hide away, retreated from everyone, tying to wade my way out of the slump I'd fallen in.

From Fasting to Sour Plums

Umeboshi Drying in the Sun, photo from here.

Since my three day water fast a few weeks ago I have fallen in love with Umeboshi - salt pickled sour plums.  I've never had strong feelings about them either way, but now I positively crave them.

I broke my fast with brown rice porridge topped with a little miso and umeboshi, after not eating for three days it tasted divine.  But this infatuation with sour pickled plums has continued long after.  Now I plop one in hot water in the morning, mash it up and happily sip the concoction.

I began to wonder why the craving, is there anything particularly good in these squishy red balls, I knew they were healthy but had never paid much attention before. So I  turned to my old faithful book that explains all about Japanese Foods that Heal.  I just loved what I read, and so I shall continue my love affair with this salty sour delicacy ; )  Which require a fairly lengthy process of soaking in salt and drying in the sun and adding red shiso leaf for colour.  Next year I vow to learn how to make them.

From the book:

"Japanese food authority Robbie Swinnerton compares umeboshi's taste to the culinary equivalent of a cold shower. Swinnerton writes, 'The abrupt, searingly tart, tangy, salty taste jolts the eyes open, shakes the stomach awake, sandpapers off any staleness from the taste buds, and gets the day off to an unforgettable start.'"

Yes, exactly I thought.

"Japanese pickled plums have remarkable medicinal qualities. Their powerful acidity has a paradoxical alkalinizing effect on the body, neutralizing fatigue, stimulating digestion and promoting the elimination of toxins and the absorption of calcium. In addition, umeboshi is said to help the liver process excess alcohol, restore the skin, help regulate sugar metabolism, prevent or cure anemia and relieve acute stomach and intestinal pain due to gas"

Wonderful!  And to think I was going out of my way to drink lemon juice in the mornings, when I had the local equivalent sat right on my kitchen table!

So I shall continue.  I guess my fast served it's purpose.  I had never properly fasted and the decision to do this one was very whimsical.  I wanted an exercise in self-discipline to get me back on track with my eating habits which had become rather yogically delinquent. So three days, only water. It was not fun, I was left very tired and cold, and no spare energy.

But the fast did make me realise how much unnecessary stuff I put into my body throughout the day as a treat, or form of procrastination.

Then two days of rice gruel with miso and umeboshi.  So simple and so delicious.

I am still enjoying simple food, have regained a modicom of self-control, and a new found love for the "Venerable Pickled Plum"

A Tiger for Malgudi - R.K.Narayan

Narayan has become one of my favourite authors since visiting Mysore. His books are all set in a fictional town called Malgudi, yet have a distinct feeling of Mysore about them, as indeed the author lived there for a while. I love visiting India, and seeing as I can't go right now, I am arm chair travelling.  I love the way he captures the essence of South India, the sunshine, slow pace of life, how the spiritual and the mundane blend. I often go back to re-read his books, like taking a little holiday.

This book is a beautiful tale of a Tiger and a Yogi, both on the journey to enlightenment. The Yoga Master guiding the tiger.   Reading this always brings me a sense of peace and calm, and the enjoyment of a good story.


I was just re-reading it again, and these passages stood out this time, especially after my weekend of practicing in a group and remembering the importance of drishti.

This is the Master teaching the Tiger.

"This is one of the rules of yoga to steady one's mind, to look down one's nose and at nothing beyond. That's one way not to be distracted and to maintain one's peace of mind."

"The eye is the starting point of all evil and mischief. The eye can travel far and pick out objects indiscriminately, mind follows the eye, and rest of the body is conditioned by the mind. Thus starts a chain of activity which may lead to trouble and complication, or waste of time, if nothing else; and so don't look at anything except the path."

So true.

Mysore Class with Matt Corigliano

It was a much needed weekend of warmth, shared practice and confidence building for me.  I'd forgotten the joy of practicing in a Mysore room, it's been so long, the sound of the breath, the help of a teacher to push a little, to encourage and support.  Nice to be in students shoes again.  Such a beautiful position. I do love teaching, but I also very very much love to be a student.  Not to mention to be able to practice along side many of those who come to my classes was just lovely.

Matt Corigliano created a beautiful space for us to practice in, great energy - everyone had a great practice.

Practice has been bared back to minimum recently, but it's coming along fine, Matt pushed me a little further than I'd dared to go by myself and I was surprised at how much more I could do.  Also noted the fear still residing in my knee and hips and how much I needed gentle adjustments to coax my body into an actively relaxed state.   To trust again.

There was also the added challenge of hiking with Matt and two guests to the top of  Mt. Zao, to the crater lake.  Usually a fairly routine hike for me, but I was quite nervous as to how my knee would take it. I used stocks, much needed on the descent.  But again felt great to be up in the snow, fresh air and mountain energy.

In the workshop Matt talked a little about his parents practice, about the fundamentals of Ashtanga, not necessarily anything new for us, but I think we all needed reminding and everyone walked away with something to ponder.

For me I am again excited about my practice and am slowly finding my strength and confidence again.

Recently, I hadn't noticed, but with all the focus on physio and the physical aspects and challenges the practice had been presenting me with recently, I had been neglecting my breath and drishti a little.  This was brought into sharp focus this weekend. Boy did I feel better for it physically, mentally and emotionally.  Been letting too much slip.  Nice to be brought back into line ; )

Conflicting Advice and Tradition

The mountains are all gleaming white, snowboarding season is fast approaching.

My physiotherapist, and the general canon of yoga  is telling me to take it easy, go slow.  Step by step.  Which I have been doing as much as possible.

However, my husband, an ex-pro-snowboarder, and the Doctor, a  sports man,  are telling me to move more, do the sports I love.  Make muscle having fun. Get on your board and go!!

Up until now I have generally followed the word of the therapist as law.  More about this soon.  But I feel that I am filled with fear of moving and my energy is being depleted.

Also, yes the modern approach to yoga is one of gently gently, but I feel it hasn't always been this way.  When I first started practicing Ashtanga I was very gentle with myself, but after visiting senior teachers I was often shocked at how hard they would push me, and how I was actually fine. One thing we must learn is to know our limits and ride the edge.  It was the intensity of the practice that hooked me, not a gently gently approach.  Not that everyone needs pushing, but my weak point was to hold back. This holds true in all areas.

Snowboarding is an extreme sport and people around us have had all kinds of injuries, and to hear how they all overcame these and got back on the mountains is wonderful.

One of my most inspiring friends is Anna, she broke her back snowboarding.  I was with her. They did an emergency operation to fuse two vertebrae together.  This was in a hospital here in Yamagata,  the doctor left it to me to break the news that she would never walk again.  I went in and told her straight, her reply still stays with me, she said 'Ganbarimas!' which roughly means, I won't give up, I'll do my best, keep on trying. She has done just that, and more.  Total inspiration.

Keep the body and the spirit strong.

My husband also told me about his friend (in his 20's) who smashed his patella to pieces, had surgery and was limping for 6 months after.  How, he went snowboarding while still in a cast, went down The Wall, a particularly steep slope, infamous, he did a few turns and then tumbled quite literally head over heels a few times. On the wall once you tumble there is no stopping till you hit the bottom. Anyways, he finished up feeling no worse for wear, infact better than before!

Could be something in it.  I won't go down the wall, but I do need to let go of my fear and begin to physically challenge myself again.

It is in this spirit that I shall head to three days of yoga class. No teaching, just practicing with all the guys. Can't wait.

Currently,  practice consists of a  very stiff, punctuated primary, interspersed with physio to focus on weak points.  I think it fits in beautifully. Tarik did say, regarding asana practice, that when injured the rules go out the window (n.b. meaning, one needs to adapt the asana a little, not blindly follow the rules regardless of pain nor, conversely,  to throw the baby out with the bath water). I usually practice alone, so am wondering how I should practice in the Mysore room, this weekend.  I love the Ashtanga tradition, and believe that there must be space for individual differences.  Not tailoring the practicing because it's what you feel like, but objectively looking at what is needed to get the body back to strength, alignment, and health.

Haven't been this excited about a workshop in a while!

Power of the Group

The other day I was teaching an english class in a kindergarten, we were getting reading to do the London Bridge is Falling Down song.  I put on the music and a couple of children started stomping to the beat, within seconds the whole class of 50 was pounding together, jumping up and down, 40 four-year-olds, carefully watching each other, synchronised and in perfect time to the music, it was tribal.

Made me think how we as humans like to be part of something greater than ourselves, how this can bring us strength, comfort, and a feeling of connectivity and inclusion.

I think that's what people who practice Ashtanga style yoga particularly like, the fact that we are all somehow connected to something much bigger than us, bigger than a teacher.  That we can visit any Ashtanga shala in the world and fit in, be a part of it, find common ground. That's why I am feebly keeping up this blog, to be a part of the cyber-shala.

To to tangibly experience the energy of the group is inspiring,  The togetherness.

The whole is greater than the sum of the parts - Gestalt.

True.

I always feel this, especially when meditating or practicing yoga in a large group.  Something happens, something beyond words and analysis.  Something different than when I practice by myself. The power of the group - a beautiful feeling.

One of my best memories so far of the group feeling was my first trip to Mysore, full led class on New Years Day, I think Pattabhi Jois was counting.  What stays with me most vividly is the sound and feeling of unison and energy as 60 or so people inhaled into upward facing dog.  Adequate words to transmit this sensation allude me. Let's just say it was a good start to the year.

Matt Corigliano is coming for three days of mysore style practice, we will be a group of 20 or so practicing together. I am very much looking forward to it, and to being bathed in the energy of a mysore rom. It's been way too long since I last went to a class.

I am practicing idiosyncratically and all, is indeed, coming. A punctuated primary, no jump backs between seated asana, using blocks to support my knee, slowly and gently and working on the breath, bandhas, relaxing and working.  Back to the fundamentals. Discovering what I can do daily.  It's a good reminder.   After surgery I wasn't able to bend my right knee for a while, and so couldn't open it out to the side, consequently things have really tightened up in my hips. But I am enjoying practice, and am integrating some physio exercises into my sequence.  Practice really needs to be adaptable during and after injury.

The mountains have turned white here now, talk has turned to snowboarding.   Doctor says I can,  that I should go boarding. Go make muscle. But to only put out 30-50%. In other words take it easy.  May have to keep out of the powder forests.  We shall see.

Anyway I am very excited.
                                                                                      
Something about the fresh cold biting air and views of white mountains that makes me inexplicably excited and and energised. If I had a tail, it would be wagging wildly.

Teaching Through Injury

The amount of posts I've read about everyone practicing through injury, the slow road to recovery.  Well teaching through an injury is a bit of a  practice too.

It's been two months since my surgery.  Still have a slight limp, can almost fully extend my knee, but flexing has a long way to go yet.  I have lost 5cms of muscle on the injured leg, it's horribly skinny.  I had no idea it would take so long, and such a toll on my body.  A very simple operation, but admittedly it was  in the slightly more serious category of simple operations.  Medial and lateral meniscus were trimmed after my knee locking well and proper.

I want to talk about teaching it is a bag of mixed blessings.  Something I love to do, find so rewarding, enjoyable, inspiring and supportive, and yet at times wish I could just selfishly channel all my energy into my own practice. But then, perhaps without the community my practice would fade away to nothing.

I took a month off teaching after surgery, naively thinking that after a WHOLE month I would return fighting fit.  The days ticked by, and I was still in no state to walk, let alone do anything akin to an ashtanga practice (yes, yes, what is an ashtanga practice, am talking orthodox asana sequence here).

The day came when I had to show up to my first class after a month off.  I felt like a child being dragged to school on their first day.  Scared, not ready to go yet.  I had thoroughly enjoyed 'me time' reading, doing the physio exercises, trips to the pool, naps up the mountains and books, books galore.  Getting lost in The Upanishads, enjoying the luxury of endless time to ponder it all.  Before class I'd wanted to cry and say I quit.  I really don't know what had gotten into me.  I guess I've always been strong, and to suddenly be so weak threw me.

It felt strange to be sat in the hall, ice bag on knee, waiting for people to show up. And show up they did.  One by one they came, my strange mood and reluctance disappeared with every smiling face and kind word.  Class was beautiful.  The energy was strong.  Despite my slow pace and limp I could teach.

So much gratitude to those that showed up that evening.

It was the first time to be on my feet for so long, there was a little pain, more ice and worry how I would make it for the next week and there after.

A month of class has passed now.  I made it.

The pain gets less and less, the need for icing slowly disappearing.  Yet the limp it is still there. Sometimes it is very frustrating not to just be able to show someone how to do something, often there is another student around who can help, but at other times, there isn't.  Certain adjustments have to be adapted. I really didn't appreciate how much I used my body in class. It was all so natural.

It is hard, and joyful, watching everyone around me so strong, working so hard, their practice developing week by week.  Yes, my knee is improving, but the road ahead is long.  I am eager to heal, so eager. But for now it's time that needs to do it's work.  As it does with practice.  We can only do so much, the rest is up to time.

Patience. Perseverance. Practice.

Last week saw two students finally drop back and stand up, another finish primary, the triumphs! As for me...ha ha well my knee is nearly straight!  I am duly inspired by the people in class.
I cannot wait to be able get my strong legs back!

It also takes energy to recover, I tire so easily, both because of the healing,  and the loss of muscle. Yet, I have developed a deeper sense of empathy for those weaker than me, those who are suffering and in pain.  Every painful experience in life teaches us to be more human, and to be grateful when we are strong.  I notice people limping and moving with difficulty more than before and send them support.

It's the end of summer here, and people's thoughts are turning towards winter and all that brings with it.  For me, this means snowboarding.  I have some hard work to do if I want to ride this winter.

For now though, I have a very individualised practice, simple, combined with the physio moves.  It feels great. The pool is also a big part of my life now, and I intend to keep it so.  It's like the simplest form of yoga.  Stretch, pull, kick, glide, breathing deep,  slow, and steady, engaging uddiyana bandha and counting the laps.

Bliss.

Wisdom all around

Went for coffee time at my husband's parents after a session of physio. They live on the outskirts of town, in a modest little house, tending the land.  It is serene.  Always feel leave in a much calmer, happier frame of mind. This is in front of their house.

My  mother-in-law is an energetic 86 year old.  She grows most of her own vegetables, cooks amazingly simple healthy old style Japanese food and can sew anything from kimono, to futons, to suits. She has a contented, peaceful energy about her.  It's nice to sit down over tea and discuss fabric.

So I show up looking a little dejected after my physio, saying it's taking so long for me to get better.  My husband and his mother then tell me the story of his motorcycle accident at the age of 19 which could have resulted in his leg being amputated. The doctor said he had never been able to successfully treat this kind of complex fracture to date, but would try.  Everything was a first, an experiment.  I hadn't heard all the details before, certainly put things into perspective. He spent three months laying still in a hospital bed, a year on crutches and three years limping. The fact that he healed perfectly, and then went on to become a professional snowboarder, amazes me  Talk about an inspiring pep talk. 

The thing I found interesting was the point his mother lingered on the longest was about how important absorbing the sun's energy is.  Yes yes, we who do yoga salute the sun and talk about absorbing prana from the suns rays. I realise the importance.  But it was beautiful to hear this wisdom being yet again confirmed.  

She told me how important it is to expose yourself to the sun, to absorb the healing rays, to eat sun dried food in winter, to always dry your clothes outside in the sun.  Simple things. How she took these sun dried foods to her son in hospital, and provided linen smelling of the sun for him.  But, I see many around who have lost this sense of the sun's power. Especially here where women go to great lengths to avoid the sun brushing their skin.  Life is led inside so often here.  The skin cancer scare. In fact in the UK they have now decided that actually, it's fine to go out in the sun, it's good for you!  Yep.  

I need to go visit more often for coffee and listen a bit more. Much wisdom here.  Every time I see her I feel a little silly for dashing off to workshops here and there, and reading all these esoteric books, when here is this serene woman who knows, right in front of me.

Not just this conversation, but recently, because of this injury, people have been opening up with many stories of pain and injury and their own learning experiences, of all varieties.  Also perhaps as I have been more still, moving at a slower pace I can take the time to see and hear more.  Listening to those around us, every one, holds some of the deepest lessons, don't you think?  

So I have been spending more time outside, and how beautiful outside around here is.  

Today, this was my workspace. I have also commandeered the scooter, seeing as riding my bicycle is still a bit much for my knee to take. But the local outside pool is providing blissful exercise. 

  

Hobble on the Mat

Well, it was a start.  Layed my single crutch down and hobbled onto my mat. Have promised myself to take this very slowly and rebuild my practice little by little.  Supplemented with physiotherapy.

One salutation to the sun.  So nice just to be back on the mat, perhaps a bit early for much, but no expectations, no judgement.  A little pranayama, and meditation.  Enough for today.  Good lady ; )

Back to the Blog

It's been a while. I stopped writing for many reasons, one was I couldn't remember why I was writing this blog in the first place.  Feel like I've gone through a bit of a growth spurt of sort, or perhaps some growing pains, nothing much to say.  I practiced, thought, wrote, studied, taught, learnt, and got on with life and that was enough.

February my old painful right knee took a major turn for the worse.  So practice was paired back to only what I could do without pain.  But for a few weeks everything was painful.  Even sleeping.

Two weeks ago I finally had surgery on the knee.

I had avoided this for too long, thinking I could somehow magically fix my knee with yoga, will power, and muscle.

Nope.  Torn menisci don't work that way.  Really.  I tried.

The last straw was bodyboarding, an enthusiastic kick to catch the wave well and truly locked my knee.  The only way out a partial meniscectomy.  Have been feeling very lucky that my knee locked in the sea, and not up a mountain, that there just so happens to be a leading authority on knees in the local hospital who could operate on me the day I hobbled in on crutches in excruciating pain. Also that it is summer holiday, my work schedule was light anyway, lessons could be easily cancelled and covered while I recuperate.

Why was my knee such a mess in the first place??? Oh yeah, yoga is bad for you I can hear people thinking....no no it wasn't the yoga.  In fact I'm always so careful with my yoga practice, it was everything else.

The ski accident, being hit by three cars in my life, breaking my right leg the first time, and damaging the knee the second, extreme sports, followed by extreme web-surfing and sewing, losing muscle...earthquake induced fear, stress, indulging in more coffee and sugar than I should have.  At times focussing perhaps too much on the spiritual and philosophical side of yoga, not working out deep pelvic muscle enough..oh the list goes on and one.

The first time I had knee problems was after a ski accident, ten years ago, very minor, no doctor, pain walking for a few weeks.  All fine for years.  Would have little pains in the months between ski and bodyboarding season.  Muscle tone down a bit. All the skiers and boarders around me are a collection of pain and injuries, that's the world of extreme sports.  Bit of pain is normal.

Then came that big old earthquake and nuclear disaster.  I sat in front of my computer for hours and hours, paralysed with fear, researching, reading, watching the winds, checking radiation levels.  Weeks of this.  Yes I did practice yoga, but it was more of an exercise in mental health maintenance.  A primary flow with Sharath.  Working on the breath and dristi, reading the Bhagavadgita. And most importantly no bodyboarding. Little did I know what a vital role this sport had played in keeping me pain free for more than a decade until I couldn't do it.

I didn't realise I was strong until I got weak.

So one day, doing the usual yoga, my hip popped.  Horrible sounding, never heard it that loud before.  They had often clicked a lot.  But this was an almighty pop.  The next day I couldn't walk up and down stairs, or much at all due to the pain in my knee.  What the hell?  I've read all the relevant articles about knees and lotus, stiff hips and pressure on menisci.  So what was going on?  Went to the doctor, and received the news that I had congential hip dysplysia.  Basically shallow hip sockets, which I had managed to keep under control by coincidentally using all the right muscles bodyboarding.  Stop the boarding, lose the muscles and femurs wobbled and popped and damaged my menisci.  On the one hand I was pleased that I hadn't done something so 'wrong' with my yoga practice, but on the other devastated that I was deformed!!!

So, I guess I hadn't worked on those muscles enough, and well to cut a long story short, many knocks to the menisci caused a tear in February (while jumping up from sitting on a cold cold night.....) thought it was getting better by June, I could walk, climb up and down stairs, ride my bike and yoga was getting back to 'normal'.  Then bam.

So surgery.  Now I am feeling more positive, this pain has gone on and off for years.  Finally it has been treated.  But I have to accept that Ashtanga yoga isn't enough to keep my thighs in their sockets. Need to supplement and literally work my arse a lot more.  Get my bones back in line.

I am very thankful to be teaching Yoga and to have this opportunity to understand my body in more depth.  Physiotherapy is just fascinating, I am drilling the guy with questions.

Determined to come out of this stronger, stronger than before. But building upon the spiritual foundations I have carved out in times of pain over the last years.  Pain really is a great teacher.  But I've had enough for now thank you.  At least these varieties of pain.

So time to rebuild my practice on all levels from step one.  Today I could finally move about the house without crutches.  Tomorrow I shall start with the Sun Salutations. Pranayama.  Meditation. Physio exercises, including light weights.

Warm for Winter Practice

I often jokingly say I live in a paper house, yet it's not too far a stretch from the truth.  Old Japanese houses certainly keep one close to nature.  In summer all the windows and ducts allow any wind there might be to pass through.  The light construction, wooden frame and walls shake well in earthquakes.

But in winter we have to be pretty tough, and learn how to keep warm.　Especially here in the North, in what is called the 'Snow Country'

OK so it's not that cold, only gets a few degrees below freezing, it's just that when I wake up in the morning, there is really only a couple of degrees difference between inside and outside. There is no insulation in the walls or roof, so we heat the room up as needed.

The room I practice in, in fact all the rooms in this house, open on at  least three walls.  We cannot, as such, say walls in the truest sense of the word, as every wall has either a window (no double glazing in rented accommodation), complete with paper screens, or cardboard like sliding screen doors.

It is cold.    We use kerosene stoves, I have one with an exhaust which makes me feel a little better about possible fumes, but it's a dry wind and I don't like to overheat the room with it when practicing.  All the deep breathing makes one very conscious of what one is inhaling.

So I have taken a new tactic in keeping warm in general and for practice.  Keep my body temperature high. I am learning the art of bathing.  This is a new experiment, shall report on bathing techniques in another post. But my theory is to keep myself warm from the inside as well as the out.

In winter I practice in merino wool snowboarding base layers.  Wonderful fabric, stretches, super soft on the skin, feels nice to sweat in, and best of all it is natural and environmentally ethical.  I've always tried to avoid synthetic fabrics.  They are just not nice for you, or for the environment, like wearing plastic.

The biggest problem us Snow Country Yogis have in winter though, is dragging ourselves out of bed into the cold.  Best way to solve this is to sleep in the lovely wool baselayer, wearing silk five finger socks and cotton and silk leg warmers.  This all keeps me seriously warm.  Warm enough to get out of bed, slip on another layer and then a down vest.  Into the kitchen for my warm water with lemon juice, then up to the icy yoga room, turn on the heater, and out for a brisk brisk warm/jog/run to get the blood flowing and warm.  Then am reading for practice.


All this seems to be working.  Am practicing, and not feeling the cold too badly yet.  I also think the bathing is helping.

Finally, the BEST bit about winter practice is the sleeping bag for Savasana.  The ONLY way to achieve total relaxation is to have a warm body, and this is the coziest end to a practice.  I have to set my alarm as security as it's very conducive to nodding off again.

How does everyone else cope with cold climate practice? I guess if one is lucky enough to have double glazing and a little insulation things don't get so chilly indoors, or do they?

Alone but Not

Practice was precluded a little while back, for the first time in eight  years, two weeks of zero asana practice.  Not by choice. Am fine now.  But wasn't.  I made the most of a dreary situation, and actually it was quite nice.  Physical practice was out, but mental practice was abundant..  I let go.  I read, drank tea, and for once just took it easy.

Back on form now, and just spent a while catching up on some blog reading, was thinking to let this blog go, but I feel that it keeps me in the cyber shala, even if no-one reads it that's fine. Was wondering why I do this,  I don't have too much to say, and the more I practice the less and less I have to say.  No that's not true, I have lots to say, just don't feel the need to share right now.  Maybe selfish, lazy, not sure.  Perhaps, and this is how it feels, I am in a time of, so to say, digestion, quiet time.  I like it.  But I like the cyber-shala too, so shall dip a toe in from time to time.  Of all things in Yoga I do feel community of every kind is one of the most important things.

In fact a while back, a teacher I like very much said the ingredients we need for an effective yoga practice are:
1. Teacher
2. Community (Sangha - Spiritual Community)
3. Study and Effort
4. Time (I took this as in making time in the day, but apparently he meant accumulated time, either way)

Of course there is much more, but this simple little list helped me a lot.  I used to feel a little envious of those who have a shala they can go to, a teacher in whose hands they can trust.  I teach, and I sometimes wished I were in the students place instead.  But I do feel, that because I teach, and because people come, we have a community, albeit small, that does help keep me going in my home practice. As time goes on, my desire to visit, and travel to see teachers becomes less and less. Knowing the really important work is always done alone, in the daily practice.  I have met so many wonderful teachers who always show the way a little further.  However, right now, I feel I am at a point where I need to walk alone for a little while. It's a nice place to be, and the shala-envy I once felt has gone.

These days, as it slowly gets colder and colder I find myself feeling very calm and content.  Staying home, practicing yoga, reading, drinking tea, listening to music and sewing.  Sewing, sewing, sewing, sewing.  Just love every aspect of it, from choosing combinations of colours, to shopping for threads and zippers, learning how to do it better, all the preparation, cutting, ironing, finally to the meditative tat tat tat of the machine as the needle goes in and out. Solitude.  My work takes me out, and in the midst of many people, it's the perfect balance. Sociable work, for a recluse.

Dreams and Hormones

My dreams have been so realistic I am confusing them with reality.  My reality, my waking, hours have been spent with Satan in Moscow in the depths of the novel 'The Master and Margarita'. All the while my hormones are raging and I try to keep a lid on what's bubbling away inside.  Why can't hormones make me happy, peaceful, kind and patient?

Yoga practice does ease the pressure.  But it is the practice off the mat that I'm working on.  To smile when I don't feel like it, and to be patient when I'm in a rush.  To nurture calmness in a storm.  Accept all as it is.

Enlightenment

Anyone out there read it?  What do you think?

Knew it was gonna be a bit of a mess-with-my-mind, rattle-my-insecure-ego, kind of a book when I read the first page.  Still unsure how I feel about it, I felt it spoke some truth and yet continuously contradicted itself.  I gleamed many gems and also became rather insecure, an enlightenment being  in Jed's terms can appear very much like a sociopath. 

This is a no messing around, very un-flowery version of what it is to be enlightened.   Am still very much mulching over what this means to my practice right now.  I lent it to a friend so I would have a partner to discuss things over with.  

Generally it all rang so very very true, shattering the popular version of what an enlightened being 'should' be.  Once in India I went to listen to someone everyone said had achieved full Samadhi.  One of my more interesting experiences.  When she entered the room one could tell she was different.  But the surprise came when she acted like a total bitch. In this book Jed explains that before enlightenment you are your ego, during you destroy and shed your ego, after you don your ego like clothes to enable you to function in the world again.  So do we tell if a person is enlightened or not just insane?

One simple line that has stayed with me and seems relevant to where I'm at in my practice right now is:

"In the process of waking yourself up, you quickly realize that there's no outside authority. You have to verify everything yourself"

Yes, that's it.

Basho

Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise.

Seek what they sought.

Obon - Death Beliefs

Incense has been drifting through the air this past week, along with the occasional sound of bells or chants.  People dashing here and there, to and fro, from relatives houses, to temples, to bar-b-ques.  Typical three day Obon in Japan.

Obon is a time when families gather at the ancestral home and go to the family grave to pray. The ancestral spirites are visiting.  Incense, food and flowers are offered. It's a time that always raises questions for me.  As I go with my husband to pray at his family grave, I'm instructed to hold the Buddhist rosary, place my hands together, bow, pray, perhaps light incense, depends on whose grave and the timing.  I do as I am told.  But no one has ever told me what to pray for.  I just prayed that they found peace wherever they may be.

This is the confusion.  They are dead.  They have been dead for a long time.  If it's someone who just died I hope that they have found rest, and are on their way.  But these ancestors, I just pray that all is good with them.  What to do?  Am I supposed to be making requests?  I don't get it.  I always thought Buddhism entailed reincarnation, which would mean these ancestors are no longer our ancestors, but into the big melting pot and onto the next incarnation.  I have a feeling this pray to the ancesters predates Buddhism.

Some of my students told me it's not for them, but for us, to remember where we came from, to give thanks and remember our lineage. That makes sense.

A while back I joined a 49th day Buddhist Funeral Service which was a very interesting and touching experience. A very hot and sultry summer day, gathered in our black formal attire, we went and sat in the shady ornate temple. It was 49 days after this lady had passed on.  According to Buddhist belife her, she has gone on her tour of the seven hells and seven heavens and is in the stage of transmigration.  Our job, the purpose of the ceremony, is to offer support and prayer to help her secure a good position in the after life.  Although the Pure Land Buddhists say this isn't really necessary, as ascension is assured This has us chanting Namu Amida Butsu and banging on the most beautiful items of ceremonial percussion.  It was a beautiful gathering and I sincerely hope it helped.

However, I have great difficulty in believing in the rituals created by man. I was raised Christian, had a depressive atheist episode, which developed into a hopeful agnostic view, then on to Tibetan Buddhism, which led to Zen, brief episode of forgetting with alcohol and such, another awakening and a slow path to the more spiritual  yogic view.  Which resonates very deeply with me....on one level.  I mean my experiences to date are affirmed by what the Yogi's have passed down, but I still have that drop of existentialist cynicism. I've been told it's good to question, not to have blind faith.  But these slumps of belief or rather conviction, in this yoga and what is slowly becoming my all religion encompassing world view, get me down.  Old beliefs rear up and ridicule me. I studied psychology which had us believe we are a production of neurotransmitters, chemical reactions in our supercomputer brain giving us the impression of something other than this flesh we inhabit.  Anything  experienced to the contrary can be explained away by the unfathomable brain's workings. Is the idea of an eternal being, a soul, purusha, just one thought up by men to provide comfort whilst facing our own mortality.  A feat which seems to make us human.  Other animals, though how we know this I don't know, cannot conceive of their own end. Contemplation continues. Reincarnation, move on to the next level, spirit merged with the universe, recycled, the void....should probably just get on and enjoy where I am right now. Not concern my mass of tangled cells and chemicals with the ultimate in unknowness. That's where it's at right. Now.  Back to Zen.

Thoughts anyone?

* Five minutes after publishing I step out of my house to watch an absolutely amazing display of lightening, flashes, sparks, multi-colours electrical show.  Got that feeling of beauty and awe, puts my soul at rest in a very primal way *

Sweat Festa - Japanese Summer

H's yellow watermelon, delicious!

I've spent the last three summers in the UK, lovely as it was, it is indeed wonderful to have a sultry summer in Yamagata.  I just love these tropical, hot, humid summers.

Wake  up at 5.30 and it's a cool 27 degrees Celsius.  By the time I finish practice at around 9 it's risen to 29.  Practice is a sweaty sweaty affair.  Feels great.  Always reminds me of a John Scott workshop I attended where he brought in a rose and talked about how it would wilt and die faster if we didn't give it fresh water, a lesson in the importance of sweating.  So, this morning, I changed my water.  Thoroughly.

Practice is returning to 'normal' slowly after my fly with my bicycle.  Did my first full primary, post-crash, on Sunday, it felt great.  Back still twinges a little in back bending but it doesn't seem to make it worse or better whether I do them or not.  Certainly no drop backs for me though.

Monday I practiced intermediate, minus kapotasana, it'll be a while longer before that comes back.  Again, a sweat dripping all over the place, hot and humid affair, but wonderful.  Rest of the week my personal mix of primary and intermediate and prep poses.  Just fine. Savasana has been divine with the morning sun filtering in through my bamboo blinds and the sound of cicada signalling the peak of summer.

By midday I"m sewing away in my sweatshop, 36 degrees, but it's amazing how little it's been bothering me, as I'm enjoying my sewing projects so much.  Home grown water melon for breaks, and although I hardly ever drink beer, have grown very partial to an ice cold glass at the end of the day.  Bad lady, but hey, it's summer.

When the heat does get too much, I take myself away to a waterfall or mountain lake to cool down and refresh.  It's hard to imagine this is the same place as the icy winter a few months ago.

Instant Karma?

A couple of weeks ago on the Summer Solstice we held a Charity Yoga class up the mountain.  It was my favourite kind of morning, a beautiful cloudy sky with greys, blues and purples, interspersed with openings of blue sky here and there.  It was beautiful.  The air was fresh, the birds singing, we practiced some pranayama, asana, and finished with a short meditation session.  Lovely.

It was a blustery day, which is pretty rare here, as we are surrounded by mountains.  As I drove along the expressway I could feel the crosswind.  I saw a large hawk hunched down low by the barricades.  Then a little sparrow flew down low in front of my car.  I hit the breaks thinking I might just make it, or the bird may fly up, or out of harms ways, but the flurry of feathers confirmed my fear.  At least it was fast I thought.  A bolt from the blue.  I started to worry that the bird was rushing back to a hungry clutch of chicks in a nest.  Wracked with guilt, chanted a little mantra for the birds soul, told myself feeling guilty wouldn't help anything. What's done is done it was our karma to meet in this way.  Then I thought about all the creatures that are killed on roads each day, walking is much less harmful.  Our fast paced lives just lead to destruction on many levels.  Vowed to ride my bike and walk more. But for this job, drive I must and I must work.

Later that night, while cycling home from the bookshop, close to my house with no lights.  I took a short cut down some back alley.  All of a sudden it was like a hand from the sky came down and stuck me, I flew through the air and landed on my stomach involved the deepest and most violent backbend I have ever experienced.  My first thought was, I hope I haven't broken my back or neck.  Feeling no pain, and being able to move all body parts I felt around for my glasses and looked around to see what the hell had happened.  Seems I had cycled straight into a barricade in the road so that cars couldn't pass.  Oh the stupidity of it.  Seriously.

But that moment of being stuck totally unexpectedly, like a bolt from the blue brought back how that little bird spent it's last split second.

The next few days my whole body ached.  Especially my abdomen.  Then came the next and back pain.  Almost all better now, almost.  But it seems that I have whiplash in my lower back.  I've been practicing my yoga asana constantly.  At first only stretching postures that felt good.  Slowly adding in the strengthening ones.  Then a few cautious upward facing dogs. The only time I feel pain is in back-bending and headstand.  This is getting less and less.  Slow, patient, practice.  I'm sure it's thanks to my yoga practice that I escaped with minimal injury and again thanks that the recovery is in progress.

I'm actually enjoying my hybrid practice of primary and intermediate.  Back bends are out for now, and upward-facing-dogs I've cut to a minimum, don't want to aggravate anything.  So, it's a primary, interspersed with the middle part of intermediate.  Very nice balance.  Am enjoying.

Pranayama, finally have a routine.  Just a little before I practice every day now.  Rolf's words on this matter have stayed with me.  He said pranayama is like watering a garden.  Too much water you kill the plants, better water little little every day, a few times if possible.