Grounding Muladhara

 Chakra. Cha-kra. The first sound  is like the ch in cheese.  As my sister noted, "I always thought it was shakra."  Me too, sister.

As part of teacher training, I am reading Wheels of Life by Anodea Judith, PhD. It's a thick volume in which Judith takes us on a journey through the swirling energetic centers of the body. She starts with some of the basic theories about what chakras are, how they function and where anatomical features overlap with the chakra system.

This book has been the first that has really made me wonder if I want to drink the Kool-aid, or rather challenged my own belief system. I am skeptical about anything that implies that there is a spinning ball of energy controlling different aspects of my life.  That sounds like a nice little pile of happy horseshit. But, I can't help noticing the places in the book where I go, "Woah that's creepily familiar!"

One of the places that this books really resonates is the discussion of the root chakra, called muladhara. This is the chakra that is closest to the earth, located at the base of your sacrum. This is said to be the energy center for all things grounding and safety related. 

Judith talks about your right to be and your right to have.  This is such a common issue for so many of us.  Although we may have the self-awareness to know that we are struggling with taking up our own space and feeling that we have a right to have certain things, it's an intangible quality to work on. Working with the chakra system, there are tangible access points to work on these qualities.

Even through my Western lens,  I can see the benefits of exploring this system.  At best, the chakra system is, as described.  At worst,  I've found a new way to interact with my body and spend some time consciously aware of grounding and feelings of safety.  Either way, there is something to be gained from studying the chakra system.

Unexpected Gift

Major gift  alert!! By a stroke of luck mixed with careful planning, I get to sleep in until 6:30 am tomorrow.  6:30 AM!!!  My goodness that sounds delightful.  Seriously, I'm so excited that I could burst!

One thing I didn't expect when embarking on Teacher Training is how flipping exhausting it would be. These days, I feel like all I do is practice yoga, talk about yoga, read about yoga or write about yoga. Oh, and I work a full time job. Like so many things, it looked way easier on paper.

I thought I had it figured out before hand.  As it turns out, I had merely a rough draft. In the final version, I sleep way less than I thought I would.  But not tomorrow. Tomorrow, I sleep..until 6:30 AM.  Wahoo!!!

Raindrops.

Say what you mean and mean what you say.  That's what we're supposed to do, right?

How many of us are big fat liars?  I am.  I do it all the time.

 "Would you like something to drink?"
 - "No, no.  I'm fine."

"Are you hungry?"
 - "No, I had a granola bar a few hours ago..."

In my estimation, we lie because we love.  We don't want anyone to go out of their way for our sake.
The problem is, it gets us into all kinds of trouble. Ignoring karma for a moment, it gets us into practical trouble sometimes.

Here's a recent example:

One day this week, I went to a yoga class that ended at 7:30 PM.  My husband was scheduled to pick up his mother from a train station across town at 7:00 PM. We discussed our options and decided that I would take the subway to a bus and walk home. Mom would probably be pretty tired from her trip and neither of us wanted to delay her further.

Husband: "Are you sure you don't mind taking the subway?"

 - Of course not! Don't be silly!

Liar liar pants on fire.

The truth is that I was pretty sure he would come get me anyway. He likes to surprise me, especially when it's raining. He and mom would probably just pop over to get me on the way home. 

This time, he really did surprise me. When I walked out of class, he wasn't there.  Instead, I found a text message. "Got mom!  Heading home.  See you soon. XOXOXO"

I spent the first few minutes of my walk to the subway furious.  How dare he listen to me and believe me and trust me?!  It's raining! 

As I walked, I got wetter and eventually calmer. Then I listened to myself and really heard what I was saying. By the time I got to the subway, I was laughing out loud and really enjoying my walk in the rain.

When I got home, I was soaked, but totally content.  My husband opened the door and was shocked to see how wet I was.  "Honey, why didn't you call me?! I would've picked you up!"  "It's ok. I forgot how much I like to walk in the rain."  This time I meant it. 

Teacher Training: Weekend 1

Rainy weekend mornings are my favorite time to lay in bed.  This weekend was exceptional.  I was giddy to be up at 6 to prepare for long days of yoga teacher training.  

 The day did not disappoint.  We started with a gentle pranayama practice, which  consists of well patterned breath exercises.  As I understand it now, it was more a series of kriyas, cleansing techniques.

The rest of the day involved long stretches of reading, listening, asking questions and dissecting yoga poses in minute detail. We also observed each other and practiced teaching each other. Mostly, we began to establish routines and learn how to learn this type of material.

The most impactful takeaway came when we first learned how to observe a student.  Before we began our first observation, our teacher asked the class, "What is the first thing you agould notice when you observe a student?" The room went silent as we looked to each other for the answer.  This was definitely not in the homework.  Her answer was so simple,"Their divinity."

If I learned nothing else this weekend, I know that the most important thing to do as a teacher is see my students.  To see them for the whole and amazing people that they are.  To recognize and appreciate the light of the divine in each of them.  And, to remember that it is that light the warms my heart.

School bells

As adults, we experience so many things differently than we did as children.  When we look back at those early experiences now, we can't help but see them through adult eyes.  That beloved Saturday morning tv show seems suddenly creepy.  The landmark we once visited as kids is somehow smaller than we remembered. The holidays are a little less magical when you know what the inside of a half frozen turkey really feels like at 6 am. 

I assumed that this same principle works in reverse, too.  If delightful situations are dulled because you know better, perhaps scary situations are less so as a grown-up. I have recently come to understand that this is NOT necessarily true.  

Today was my first day of school. Yoga teacher training school.  Not first grade, but I certainly felt those first day jitters. There were some subtle differences. Rather than new shoes and a haircut, i made sure to have my toes painted and remembered to wear earrings.

Beforegad, I only knew one person that would be in the class.  This brought out the old "what if I don't make friends?" There was a scheduling conflict for the first day, so I was sure that everyone already had a friend to sit with.  

Clutching my bag, I walked into the studio where I have been hundreds of times. But this time, it felt different. Like I was walking into someplace unfamiliar and scary. There were teachers siting at the front desk when I walked in. The teacher whose class I have taken several times, started to sign me in. "Oh, umm... No, I ...I think we're upstairs?"  He dropped the pen and half smiled, "I see how it is."  

To get upstairs, you have to walk through two classrooms of people setting up for practice.  I've been watching others tiptoe through this path for years. They quietly scamper through and into themysterious magical  world of teacher training. This is surreal!

Once I get upstairs, there are smiling faces on mats and milling about. We chat. We introduce. We fuss a little. And only when we find ourselves in a comfortable crossed legged seat and we exhale the sacred sound of OM, does the anxiety dissipate.  I am not a scared little girl.  I am a 35 year old woman and I am exactly where I should be.