A powerful short film on our government's disregard of #Occupy Wallstreet.
For all the insight into our individual selves that we gain as yoga practitioners on the mat, our everyday lives are transformed. As individuals united by family, community, nation, and so forth, yoga invites us to engage the obstacles that threaten our well-being as creatures living in a complex socio-politcal environment so that we might transform collective human freedom as well.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Ever since I was a kid, I have loved to move my body and dance. Dancing was actually what got me into yoga in the first place. I thought yoga would help my body be more malleable and rubberband-like, so one day I could do crazy stuff like this...
Break ton Neck from Alex Yde on Vimeo.
What's cool is, I'm still not there! But after watching this, I know that I've got something to keep me busy for a long while. The journey never ends.
Break ton Neck from Alex Yde on Vimeo.
What's cool is, I'm still not there! But after watching this, I know that I've got something to keep me busy for a long while. The journey never ends.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The days are getting darker...
Last weekend was already daylight savings time?! I thought that days were already getting short enough, and then we had to go and shorten them by another hour too. I'm definitely a person who exhalts in sunshine and daylight, and the winter months ahead seem long and foreboding.
It's not that I dislike shadows and darkness. The richness of a dark night sky only amplifies the beauty of a glowing moon. (Dense dark chocolate ice cream tastes even better with fluffy light whipped cream on top!) I am someone who can appreciate darkness as well. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of sensitivity to understand the complexity of things in the dark.
This is the time of year when the natural rhythm of things moves inward, towards hibernation. Hibernation means warm, hearty food, crackling fires, family and friends, time alone for contemplation and good books. In the natural cycle of the seasons, this is also the end of the harvest season, when all things living start to die. The beginning of the season of darkness is a signal of the end of an old cycle, as well as the beginning of a new one.
When you think of darkness, think of richness, of potency. Yoga teaches us that we are all purnatva, or perfect, full, complete. But often when we shed our leaves and move into the darkness, our own perfection seems obscured, or maybe we feel dead. Sometimes, we observe this as a lack, and then we start looking for ways to feel more alive. We desire to have more things to fill up the perceived hole in ourselves. The invitation of yoga is to prod this hole, to discover that it is like a black hole, full of more possibilities than we could imagine. To take this first step and to look into the depths of our own darkness is like Opening to Grace: it's a willingness to see that there's WAY more there than we could ever imagine. As soon as we open ourselves up in this way, many of our desires--a new sweater, more friends on facebook, fancier apartment, a second cup of coffee, a bacon cheddar cheeseburger--start to fall away. The abundance we felt lacking in our lives is revealed to us as the nourishing food in our bellies, the clothes on our back, our closest family and friends, a good job, our own aspirations and joys. To receive the fullness of our own darkness is to find the richest blessing of all, individual freedom. Freedom is the richest gift that we possess, and it's something that connects us all.
This season of darkness is an opportunity--to shed the layers from the past year and to retreat into ourselves. As we move inside, we can either let the darkness cloud our vision, obfuscating what we truly want for ourselves and confusing the type of person we want to become. Or, we step fully into the darkness, ready to receive the gifts that are already there, the abundance that will truly nourish us as we move towards our own vision for who we want to become. When we affirm the abundance that is already present, it becomes a storehouse of energy that will fuel all of our greatest endeavors. As my teacher Douglas Brooks says, Life is a gift, and yoga is its blessing. As a form of engagement, yoga is that which allows us to fully receive ourselves as the gift of our own true freedom.
It's not that I dislike shadows and darkness. The richness of a dark night sky only amplifies the beauty of a glowing moon. (Dense dark chocolate ice cream tastes even better with fluffy light whipped cream on top!) I am someone who can appreciate darkness as well. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of sensitivity to understand the complexity of things in the dark.
This is the time of year when the natural rhythm of things moves inward, towards hibernation. Hibernation means warm, hearty food, crackling fires, family and friends, time alone for contemplation and good books. In the natural cycle of the seasons, this is also the end of the harvest season, when all things living start to die. The beginning of the season of darkness is a signal of the end of an old cycle, as well as the beginning of a new one.
When you think of darkness, think of richness, of potency. Yoga teaches us that we are all purnatva, or perfect, full, complete. But often when we shed our leaves and move into the darkness, our own perfection seems obscured, or maybe we feel dead. Sometimes, we observe this as a lack, and then we start looking for ways to feel more alive. We desire to have more things to fill up the perceived hole in ourselves. The invitation of yoga is to prod this hole, to discover that it is like a black hole, full of more possibilities than we could imagine. To take this first step and to look into the depths of our own darkness is like Opening to Grace: it's a willingness to see that there's WAY more there than we could ever imagine. As soon as we open ourselves up in this way, many of our desires--a new sweater, more friends on facebook, fancier apartment, a second cup of coffee, a bacon cheddar cheeseburger--start to fall away. The abundance we felt lacking in our lives is revealed to us as the nourishing food in our bellies, the clothes on our back, our closest family and friends, a good job, our own aspirations and joys. To receive the fullness of our own darkness is to find the richest blessing of all, individual freedom. Freedom is the richest gift that we possess, and it's something that connects us all.
This season of darkness is an opportunity--to shed the layers from the past year and to retreat into ourselves. As we move inside, we can either let the darkness cloud our vision, obfuscating what we truly want for ourselves and confusing the type of person we want to become. Or, we step fully into the darkness, ready to receive the gifts that are already there, the abundance that will truly nourish us as we move towards our own vision for who we want to become. When we affirm the abundance that is already present, it becomes a storehouse of energy that will fuel all of our greatest endeavors. As my teacher Douglas Brooks says, Life is a gift, and yoga is its blessing. As a form of engagement, yoga is that which allows us to fully receive ourselves as the gift of our own true freedom.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Plant some seeds this Spring
We can all feel it. Spring has arrived on our doorsteps, is floating in through our windows, and completely swallowing us up in its beauty. It's the season to be reborn, to begin again, to give ourselves second (or third, or fourth) chances. All things that grow must be planted, and with time and patience, the seed will germinate and blossom. What better time of year to plant new seeds in your life, to enrich the soil of your inner self, than spring? Every year I find my yoga practice re-invigorated, and I take the up the opportunity the spring offers by enriching my practice. I find that a long and toilsome winter can drain the energy from my yoga, leaving me lethargic and less inclined to practice on my own.
But even seeds need to be buried in soil, kept in the darkness while they germinate. And when the first warm rays of sun shine down, urging it up out of the ground, the seed will sprout and eventually become a beautiful plant. I spent the last days of winter nurturing my needs: drinking warm tea, taking hot baths, soaking in the steam room at the Y. Now that the air is warmer and the days are longer, it's easier to make time to re-begin my practice.
Since moving to New York, my yoga practice has grown and fallen and then blossomed again in many ways. The seed I am planting in my practice this spring is reaching out to the community through teaching. Yoga is not a privileged practice, I tend to believe we all have some innate sense of yoga, even if it's that we like to stretch our arms in the air when we wake up in the morning. Yet yoga can be costly--it takes time out of one's day and it is monetarily expensive. But the return is unending. That is why I want to share my practice with the people who surround me--to spread the seeds of a practice that may always enrich the self. I am sharing my practice through community-style classes: On Tuesdays I will lead a barter-style class at 1 pm in Brooklyn near the Navy Yard, and I hope to be offering a second completely free class in Crown Heights very soon.
But even seeds need to be buried in soil, kept in the darkness while they germinate. And when the first warm rays of sun shine down, urging it up out of the ground, the seed will sprout and eventually become a beautiful plant. I spent the last days of winter nurturing my needs: drinking warm tea, taking hot baths, soaking in the steam room at the Y. Now that the air is warmer and the days are longer, it's easier to make time to re-begin my practice.
Since moving to New York, my yoga practice has grown and fallen and then blossomed again in many ways. The seed I am planting in my practice this spring is reaching out to the community through teaching. Yoga is not a privileged practice, I tend to believe we all have some innate sense of yoga, even if it's that we like to stretch our arms in the air when we wake up in the morning. Yet yoga can be costly--it takes time out of one's day and it is monetarily expensive. But the return is unending. That is why I want to share my practice with the people who surround me--to spread the seeds of a practice that may always enrich the self. I am sharing my practice through community-style classes: On Tuesdays I will lead a barter-style class at 1 pm in Brooklyn near the Navy Yard, and I hope to be offering a second completely free class in Crown Heights very soon.
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