Last week, I left my little annex apartment in a South Californian valley town at dusk with a blanket and a hoodie, a flashlight and my iPhone. I hiked to a clearing in front of the garden and spread out to watch the end of the sunset.
I had gone inside to prepare some dinner right when it started, but the amber behind the dark scale of the hillside would not leave my mind and I had to go see it some more.
The moon!
Of course I was nudged and so convinced to go back out! Somewhere in me knew I didn’t want me to miss the moon.
(I feel I could paint this sunset into a picture because of how it felt.
I have never been a painter… this is new.)
Then, I noticed a star. And then another star. And then another star.
Star. Star.
Star. Star. Star.
And I didn’t leave. Hungry as I was, I laid there watching every star come out as the sun made it’s final tuck low past the horizon, dunked behind the ocean that was on the other side of my sight.
Never in my life have I watched all the stars come out. Every time I thought of my dinner, I still stayed. So patiently.
I was mesmerized – absolutely mesmerized and entertained.
And still. I was STILL.
Some constellations I knew, but I had this deep sense of desire that my mind would just open and I could understand the stars, see all the patterns, know the stories. A language I knew in my bones but wanted words. I felt this sensation rise to the top of my brain. But I didn’t pull out a constellation map, I didn’t Google anything. I just looked and was open, calm.
Needless to say, I slept well that night.
The process of staying still when your mind thinks of the next things to do is a very important part of yoga; a very important part of life. Guiding the self in a manner which is still – not busy – I have found offers deeper release of tension in the physical body.
Now that I am back home, I am committed to maintaining this posture of freedom and calm. By finding something to engage me that requires me to do nothing but sit and look. I think it is easy to want to develop thought in these moments. To think you can understand something about yourself in these moments. Or receive revelation. Truly, I think it is likely that you can make connections and evolve through a practice like this.
However, emptying the mind and clearing the thought – these are the things of value in stillness. This is an established theme in my life and that I am taking to all my practice – as a student and as a teacher.
Have a great holiday weekend :) Find something to stare at and settle into … erin
The most important part of this lesson is that you know I speak only from an equal place of experience. I’m 35, almost 36. I have kids. I have been married. I have had an emotional affair. I have experienced debt, grief, fear, pain. And I have experienced healing, freedom, peacefulness and truth. So…
I’d say it all balances out.
I say this idea of me speaking from this place of equanimity is important because it is important that you know when reading this that YOU are YOUR OWN TEACHER. You have a voice that guides. You have a voice that reasons. And you have a pretty vested interest in where YOU are going. So. Listen to that.
Allow me to simply – give you things to take in. And, do so with some sincerity. Which – from all that I can tell – you are here because you are, in fact, sincere.
The Yamas.
5 components of the first limb of yoga. (Of which there are 8. Yamas and Niyamas kicking it off, with focus on breath, movement / posture, then meditation … samadhi.)
Oh. Did I mention I am PUMPED to teach yoga philosophy?
The first Yama is Ahimsa.
Non Violence.
A place a bird can rest peacefully.
An equal feeling. A sense of compassion.
A deep sense of balance – even if, at times, you are rocky.
Ahimsa is what you sit and are when you sit and release.
Ahimsa creates peace. Ahimsa cares for the self. Ahimsa rests, receives, and has a strong sense of self.
Which — this strong sense of self —
allows healthy boundaries be set up,
not out of fear (for fear, it is believed, causes the imbalances which lead to violent outbursts, impatience, and hurtful words)
but out of love.
Bottom line: Pray love into your life on a consistent basis.
From there – you have the following.
Satya – truth – which is the best friend of love.
Asteya – the belief that you are able to take and so you should be aware and be mindful to “leave”. Leave places in peace, leave things in tact, leave things better than when you came, leave people their space, leave children their imaginations, leave every single person in the world their right to peace and love and happiness.
Bramacharya – what you practice when you hydrate, have sex that fuels instead of drains, keeping your private life private, honoring the lives of others in a way that does not, and refuses to, predict the worst. Subscribing to your own best ideas.
Lastly.
Aprigraha. Which.
Four years ago, my marriage was falling apart. My neighbor, Laurie Solet, asked me if I wanted to go to a 6 week series on the different asana families (backbends, inversions, etc) at a nearby yoga studio.
I ended up taking the series twice in a row.
I still have my notebook from that time in my life. I was hurting. I was processing. I was excited. I was confused. I was worried. Many times, as I sat with a blanket around me in class – working to meditate – to name the thoughts and excuse them so I could concentrate and be present – I would cry. Out of one eye.
When I cry in yoga, it is out of one eye and one eye only.
I met Jee Moon during that series. She was my teacher. I remember her focusing in on me during a lab on cobra. Cobra is a little back bend you make while laying on your stomach. As she worked with me – encouraging me – urging me deeper – arching my back and dropping my head behind me – she said, “Oh my God, Erin. Can you bend your knees??”
I could.
I did.
And I saw my feet.
“Strong back” She said.
Months later, I was talking with my Grandma Lavona about her Chinese Zodiac sign: an Ox. This after making friends with a fellow yogi friend who worked at Enterprise and who introduced me to this. My Grandma’s sense on being an Ox was simple: she has “always had a strong back” – been a hard worker.
Understanding your body is insight to your heritage.
After I moved out of the shared house, I met with Cathleen Williams – owner of Urban Breath Studio – to inquire about work trade. I was re-establishing my life and we worked out an agreement that I would clean the Dogtown studio in exchange for membership.
I would go in at midnight, fold all the blankets – set the props – clean the floor with hot water and white vinegar – and sing. I would clean the toilet, refill the soap, take out the trash, wipe off the incense, refill the water – and think: this is where I am.
I made good use of those nights working trade by going to yoga 4, 5, 6 times a week. Never missing Jee’s Tuesday night yin classes. One time, after a particularly emotional practice, Jee said to me as I left the studio, “You did well”. In a way that was less, “good job” and more “I see you”. It meant so much to me and still does.
This is yoga.
Fast Forward four years and I am a graduate of 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training from Urban Breath. I have learned, in reflecting over this time, I am so grateful for my yoga teachers for taking great care that I became my own resource; that I did not grow dependent on them. This is what we, as yoga teachers, aim to teach: to listen to yourself and trust.
My commitment to teaching is to give the space for others to hear themselves. Know their ego’s voice – who wants to be safe. Know their aversion’s voice – who wants to be included. Know their attachment’s voice – who wants to control and predict. Know their ignorance – who wants to be awakened. And know their fear – who wants to be indestructible. By knowing these voices – knowing the thoughts that associate with these feelings – one can learn to self guide. Through concentration, through awareness of breath, through a physical practice – one can learn that they are spiritual, sound, and secure.
Your body is your spirit’s nest.
I am so grateful for the support I have in my life. I am grateful for Laurie Solet, who was a doorway. I remember standing in between our houses in January, so stringently wounded from pending divorce, and her giving me a massive pep talk before going back inside and how much love was in it. How much encouragement was in it. That spirit is a part of my practice and a part of my teaching.
I am thankful for my yoga soul mate who is on their way to my house right now. Who was alongside of me as I processed and awakened during a concrete and critical part of my life.
I am thankful for Jee Moon for her steadiness and ability to bring me brilliantly into a new perspective. For teaching me the diligence of skill and to respect silence.
Cathleen Williams on left, Stacy Broussard on right
I am thankful for Cathleen Williams, for her ministry to Saint Louis by way of Urban Breath – so that people can heal and then learn to teach. Namaste.
I am thankful for Laurie Brockhaus, for her graceful physical practice that is compelling and as figurative as it is literal. For her ability to see the whole room.
I am thankful for Stacy Broussard, for her knowledge on how you can meet people where they are and offer approach to each individual so that yoga is accessible.
I am thankful for Madeleine Webb, for her spiritual depth and confidence that has reminded me over and over how a boldness of spirit is good for the world.
I am thankful for Beth Barr, for the logo for Yoga Underground, for giving me a space to teach all summer, for her encouragement and humor. You have been a sincere sister.
I am thankful for Christie Brinkman, for your constant support and pointed love. For your ability to remind me of the basics and your belief in the things I dream about.
From left to right: Cheri Massa, Julie Johnson, Christie Brinkman
I am thankful for Cheri Massa, for your beyond intuitive maternal role in my life. For our early morning week day phone calls and for the fact that there are so many things about me that you just get.
I am thankful for Milta Little, for my Milta plant which I am moving back down into the basement tomorrow as I resume practice in my banged up studio complete with a prayer written all over my soon to be repaired floor. For your dialogue with God for me. Now.. on to CS Lewis!!
I am thankful for Julie Johnson, you are the champion of women – endless thank you’s for what you do for people trying to make a difference in our city.
I am thankful for Andie Carter, for being my refuge after Tuesday night yin and giving me a place to continue stretching in her kitchen. I miss you.
I am thankful for the Gathering United Methodist Church for giving me a place to begin my ministry.
I am thankful for my students. For trusting me with your time and allowing me the opportunity to learn from our interactions. I look forward to many many more classes. If you aren’t already a part of Yoga Underground’s Class Newsletter – sign up here.
There are many more people who love me and encourage me in endless ways. Those named here have been a big part of my yoga journey. And I want to honor that particularly as my heart is so very full right now.
As I wrap this up, I just have to acknowledge that one of the biggest learnings I have from recent months is that quantity does not matter. I am not out for full classes and a full bank account. I am out to connect with you, or your friend, or your mother, or your cousin. I am out to facilitate space for you and your mind, heart, and soul. I am out to give you a way to see your strength. I am out to give you a consistent mirror for you to see your growth.
