Discipline, Intuition, and Practice

Erich Schiffmann has taught every teacher that I have ever connected with in a yoga class. My first teacher, Marti Foster, studied with him, among other yoga masters. I studied exclusively with Marti for the first four years that I practiced yoga. I could not have had a better introduction to the practice than to have studied with Marti.

When I moved to Toronto in 2001, I had to find a new studio, and most importantly, a new teacher. I was initially quite worried because I didn't know if there really was any yoga to speak of in Toronto, or if it would be the "same" yoga I was used to. It took a bit of searching, but as it turned out, there is a vibrant yoga scene in Toronto. Yoga Space was the 3rd studio I tried, but I knew fairly quickly that I was home. There was just something about the energy of the place: it was warm, friendly, relaxed, unpretentious, but serious about yoga as a discipline, practice, and way of life. This was exactly what I was accustomed to from studying with Marti.

In fact, at the Yoga Space, I found not one, but two incredible and very different teachers: Bibi Hahn, who teaches Flow Yoga, which came from a practice developed by Amrit Desai at Kripalu; and Kathryn Beet, who teaches Vinyasa Flow. (Bibi and Kathryn both teach in a style and a manner that is informed by the Krishnamacharya-Desikachar tradition, as well as many other forms and traditions of yoga.)

Once again, I discovered a few months after making Yoga Space my new yoga "home", that Kathryn and Bibi had not only studied with Erich but that they were good friends with him.

I really hope that this year will be the year that I finally get to practice with Erich myself. In fact, if all goes well, I am really hoping to participate in his 10-day Teacher Training at the end of the summer. The timing will be a bit tricky, but I will hope for the best.

Here's an example of why Erich is teh bomb. He's a 6'4" pudd'n. It comes across in everything he says and does. I pre-love him.



WHOOSH! :)

How To Tell The Truth

Something that a friend wrote recently on the subject of telling the truth and being direct has reminded me of an article I stumbled across years ago... when I was trying to figure out, quite literally, how to tell the truth. It had recently become unavoidably clear to me that I was not a particularly honest person. A dear friend put it as kindly as he possibly could, and in hindsight-- 13 years on-- I see that he really nailed it. He said, "I think you're as honest with others are you are with yourself." (Which was to say, at the time, very dishonest indeed.)

Being the geek that I am, I actually did an internet search for any insights I might find. This article, and the decisions and actions that followed from it, started a process that has been ongoing ever since.

I had thought that figuring out how to tell the truth was the starting point; was I ever wrong.

Truth: How and Why To Tell It

Here's an excerpt:

Knowing one's own truth.
We are all on our journey toward knowing ourselves better, becoming more aware and more connected to the truth of who we really are.
It is only through our relationships with others that we discover deeper truths about ourselves.
I can never know the truth about another's journey towards truth.

I am on my own unique journey and can never know about another's journey.
Every person's journey is unique to themselves. Though someone else may not allow themselves to know much about their journey, but it is certain that I cannot know about it. So I will stop trying to figure out the truth of another's journey.
If I am looking to others to decide what to do, think, or feel, I am lost in their journey. I feel unease. When I let go of trying to figure out the other person's journey, their intention, their goal or motivation, I feel ease.

I can always know the truth about myself.
The journey towards my truth exists only for me. It is unique to me and for me.
My truth does not have to be substantiated with facts. It does not have to be proven. It does not have to be confirmed.
With mindfulness, I can be well connected to my truth.

Read the rest of the article here

One of the many things I've always loved about that article, and this particular type of truth-telling, is that it makes very clear that figuring out one's own truth is a full-time job. I'm on my journey, you're on yours. I'm writing the script to my life; I can't write yours and you can't fill in the blanks of mine. The most we can do is compare notes, and maybe give a tiny bit of insight in the places where we've had similar experiences.

Coincidentally, I stumbled across a couple of quotes earlier today, on Rob Brezny's site, that are relevant here. Specifically, they deal with the concept of truth-telling as it relates to political and social life, service, and activism.

"The best political, social, and spiritual work we can do is to withdraw the projection of our shadow onto others."
--Carl Jung

"Political activism is seductive because it seems to offer the possibility that one can improve society, make things better, without going through the personal ordeal of rearranging one's perceptions and transforming one's self."
--Tom Robbins

Something in me had always been drawn to extremely direct people. Something in me still is. I have many direct people in my life, and I'm always looking for more. I'm definitely in the You Can't Have Too Many Friends camp.

But these days, I especially value those who can deliver honesty with directness, yes, but with love and compassion as well. Truth-telling, being direct, calling bullshit... there's a form of this that is actually, at heart, quite dishonest. When it becomes sanctimonious, anger-laden, cruel... there's invariably something else going on. At that point, the "truths" that are being delivered really aren't useful; something else is in the way.

Truth is always ultimately built on a foundation of love. It's just sometimes quite difficult and scary to get underneath the surface of things and figure out what's really going on, and to understand what, or who, really needs to change. It's easy to get comfortable with our own Official Story, and to cling to it come hell or high water. But it's also easy to suss out the blind spots: they'll always be right where we're afraid to look, right around the most ominous-looking corner. They'll always be protecting the parts of ourselves and others we're failing to really, deeply love.

I am resolved to take these guidelines to heart, once again, as I step into the new year.