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A Reality of Gratitude

Melina Lake / Associations, Reflections, Teachers, Thoughts, Tips, Yogis / , , , , , , / 0 Comment

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In yoga, we are reminded by our teachers to take a moment each day to be grateful for all we have. We sit on our mats, eyes closed, and give recognition to how lucky we are. In class, relaxed and clear headed, this gratitude seems easy to find. But each day, outside of our yoga kula, this gratitude is often buried by life and its many happenings.

I recently visited Bali, Indonesia. A getaway I’ve dreamed of for years to make my surfing fantasies a reality. I pictured crystal clear ocean, white sandy beaches surrounded by colourful hibiscus and a peaceful tranquility. Everyone I’d met who visited the tiny island has a love story they attach to it. And I wanted mine.

From the moment I stepped outside the airport and onto a nearby street to catch a taxi, my mental image of Bali vanished as the reality took over. Traffic like I’ve never seen, four person families speeding along the road’s shoulder with no helmets in sight. Rows of run down shacks and empty lots of debris lined the streets.

I thought hopefully to myself, the beachside areas will be better. They were worse. Packs of locals trying to sell you anything from a flower petal to a paper fan chase us along the crowded walkway. Men in rickety boats constantly call to us for a “good price” island tour. Young children, shoeless and unaccompanied, reach for me to give them money, after all, in this part of the world we are rich. Millionaires to be exact.

As much as there is beauty in this very bustlingly popular place, I have never had my eyes opened quite like they were each day in Bali. I’ve never desired to come home after being away. I’m always upset on the last day of my vacations, dreading the routine life that awaited me. This time, for the first time, I looked forward to it. To the clean water, air, streets, and homes. To the opportunity, education, activities, and food. To the mundane job, routine weeks, orderly transportation, and safety.

It’s funny how we often go away to relieve ourselves from our realities only to learn that these realities are a blessing. My recent third world experience reminds me to take my gratitude with me outside the yoga world and keep it from being buried in my daily life.

Yeah, I Speak Yoga

Melina Lake / Reflections, Styles, Thoughts / , , , , , / 2 Comments

I don’t speak Korean. At all. But I speak some yoga. So when I recently attended my first hot yoga class in Bundang, South Korea I somehow knew the language.

The room was hot and humid, much like the weather outside but stronger. My sister, who frequented this studio over the past year, told me to get acquainted with the room before class started. Sitting cross legged, I settled into my space in the sauna-like, wooden panelled room. Mirrors lined the front wall so I could see myself slowly melt – I decided to keep my focus inwards and away from my reflection.

The cute, yet serious teacher greeted the class. I prepared myself for what may be my most difficult yoga class to date: hot and in Korean. To my surprise, our teacher began leading us through a few body awakening movements which I followed smoothly. Neck stretches – right then left, forward then back. Then arms into a standing half moon on each side. Hey, I thought, I’m actually doing yoga in Korean.

I had no clue what she was saying vocally, but the universality of the practice made the class much easier to follow than expected. She counted aloud in English a few times, which my sister says she always does. In mountain pose, she explained the correct stance thoroughly in Korean and it was as if I understood word for word what she saying, “have your feet hip width apart, tuck your tummy, engage your core, and relax your shoulders.”

It is amazing how something can be completely foreign, yet thoroughly understood in the same breath. Despite how displaced we may be culturally, we can still find a kula through yoga, even if it’s in a place far away from our community.

Courage To Fall

Melina Lake / Associations, Reflections, Thoughts, Tips, Yogis / , , , , , , , , / 0 Comment

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In a conversation with my pal Jennifer before class started last night, she filled me in on some changes she is making in her life. Risks she’s decided to take because the saying, you never know until you try, deems to be true (funny how clichés tend to be true). Yet, making a big change, or trying something foreign or different often brings a sense of fear along with it.

For instance, I find myself going to lengths of comparing pros and cons before I make a big decision that will bring change to my life. I’m unsure if the idea for change sparks from a right feeling or desire, or the need for a challenge. So I weigh all the thoughts surrounding the risk for change and take my time before making a final verdict. Then I stop and ask, who cares?! Why do the things we lean towards need to be justified if they feel right?

Last week in a Vinyasa Power Flow class, I took several risks. My shoulders and arms violently quivered as I attempted four arm stand and side crow over and over again. I pushed myself because it felt right. I was determined that my body could manage. I knew the worst that could happen was I’d fall, and I did. Flat out like a pancake I just splattered onto my mat. My body, at that point had enough. But instead of harping on my decision to take this risk with my body, I laughed. Falling is actually kind of fun. Instead of beating myself up over failing to do the pose, I gave myself credit for trying and making progress.

Why is risk taking in yoga, when if done improperly could result in injury, so carefree? So unruffled? We will inevitably fall out of the pose, but we hold our dignity while we do it. We know that after falling, we’re merely right back to where we started and nothing less.

This notion is so simple in our yoga Kula, yet so hard in our outside community. How do we incorporate the courage to fall into our daily lives?

To quote the risk taking Jennifer, I’ll always have what I have now, so if this change doesn’t work out, I’ll be right back here. And here, the now, isn’t such a bad place to end up.

How do you bring your yoga mentality into your daily life?

Floating Through The Practiced Storm

Melina Lake / Reflections, Tips, Yogis / , , , / 2 Comments

Savasana. The pose of all poses. You rise from your deep, calm, refreshed state with an increased positivity and gratitude towards life. You steadily prepare to face the outside world, bringing with you the qualities enhanced during class. Before you can collect your things and gather your thoughts to go on your merry way, the entrance is flooded.

Fellow yoginis, desperately anxious to find peace and start their practice, rush to the crowded cubicles and still occupied mats. You and others in a successful tranquilized state are bombarded with questions as to whether you’re coming or going. Your peace is interrupted, but you try hard to hang onto it as you dodge the incoming traffic and make your way out of class.

Doesn’t this abrupt behaviour confuse our purpose in going to yoga? The practice in breathing through discomfort and applying it to our daily lives. Being calmly present to deal with temporary strain.

So why not breathe through the discomfort of not getting our usual spot in class? Or the hurry to place our belongings in the cubicle closest to the exit? Or the anxious need to achieve ten full minutes of happy baby before class begins? How about respecting our community, our Kula, to help enhance its practice rather than suspend it.

We’ll all eventually arrive on our mats and begin our practice our way, moving to accommodate our bodies’ needs. Once class is finished, the positive energy we leave with is not determined by how strategic we were before class started.

So let’s face this challenge, despite how badly we need our next class. Let’s incorporate the strength, compassion, and integrity we learn from yoga and ensure its carried forward once we enter our yoga community. So when we exit class, we stay afloat rather than being forced to sink.

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