My Yoga Story and Why I’m Starting Over as a Beginner (Part 3)

My experiences with Kriya yoga meditation, initiation, and discipleship

“The antics (of the mind) seem to be like that of a monkey that has consumed alcohol, is then bitten by a scorpion and then again is possessed by a demon/spirit.”
-Source Unknown

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say, “I can’t meditate. My brain just never settles down.” If that’s you, you’re not alone. That’s how I felt when I started to meditate too.

So far in this series of blog posts, I’ve described how I got into yoga through physical practices, my introduction to Kriya Yoga, and my first trip to the Center for Spiritual Awareness, where I met an enlightened guru named Roy Eugene Davis. This post picks up where Part 2 left off, at CSA, with my first attempts at meditation.

Inhale, exhale, pause… Let‘s go to the CSA meditation hall in Lakemont, Georgia, during my first week-long retreat with Roy in 2005.

First Meditation Experiences and Kriya Yoga Initiation

The CSA meditation hall is silent. It’s the most silent place I’ve ever been. It has plush cream carpet that feels good on your sock feet (no shoes allowed) and perhaps absorbs unwanted noises. It’s so silent that if you pay attention, you can feel the silence even when there are noises in the room like people adjusting their posture or clearing their throats. 

There are rows of 80-100 straight-backed chairs, an audio booth, spiritual sculptures in cabinets and artwork on the walls, and a huge gong in one corner. On my first visit, Roy sat where he always sat, in a tall orange armchair, a microphone on his left and a small table with a bouquet of flowers on his right. 

 

During meditation, it seemed like everyone else was perfectly still, but I was squirming. When I sat with my hips in the back of the chair, my feet dangled uncomfortably an inch or two from the floor. I couldn’t sit cross-legged because there were metal arms on the chair that got in the way. I’d brought a yoga blanket and block, but could not find a position where I could feel at ease and stay put.

Roy led us into meditation with instructions and sometimes a chant, but there were what felt like long stretches of silence when I would daydream or almost nod off to sleep. Even when Roy was talking, sometimes I just couldn’t pay attention.

I could not sustain my attention on my breath or a mantra or other technique for literally more than a few seconds. Even though I did not have the skills or brain muscles to focus yet, and even though it felt SO HARD to sit in that chair and watch my brain go in circles, I knew it was good for me. 

I don’t specifically remember this happening on my first visit, but during subsequent visits to see Roy, I often felt that if I sat up tall enough and still enough in that silent meditation hall, I could insert the top of my head into the rays of peace and clarity radiating from Roy, and tap into them. I tried to be an antenna, thinking that if my brain were in the vicinity of Roy’s, it might help me meditate better.

That first week, I learned that on Thursday, we were invited to be initiated into Kriya yoga. I wasn’t sure what that meant, if I was qualified/ready, or if I wanted to do it. Monty hadn’t said anything about it. I found out that it was recommended that before coming to retreat, visitors read Roy’s book Seven Lessons In Conscious Living, in which he explained foundational principles to prepare for initiation. I had skipped that step. Oops.

I asked roommate Kathleen, who explained that I would learn some special breathing and meditation procedures and receive a blessing from Roy. Still a bit trepidatious, I did attend and participate in the Kriya initiation service, learn the techniques and receive the blessing. 

What’s powerful about this Kriya yoga tradition is that it has been passed down the old fashioned way – teacher to student, teacher to student, face to face. That’s been happening for sure since the early 1800s, as we have the personal testimony of the gurus to rely on. I think it’s been happening a lot longer than that. Not only are the teachings passed down, but also the energy to wake up spiritually and to inspire others. This transmission of spiritual energy from one person to another is sometimes called shaktipat.

Roy carried on the tradition and offered Kriya initiation to tens of thousands of people from all over the world during his lifetime, and that Thursday, I was one of them.

Some details of that day are not clear for me; others I will never forget. On future visits, Kriya initiation was scheduled for the morning. I think it may have been in the evening my first time because I have a clear memory of walking into the dining hall from the meditation temple, and thinking, “No. I do not want to chit-chat over dessert.” I wanted to be alone and quiet.

 I went back to my hot room in the little blue house. I didn’t sleep much that night. I sat up in my bed near the window. I remember a sensation like when you come into the shade after being in bright sun. When you close your eyes, you still see splotches and splashes of red-orange light on the inside of your eyelids. That’s what I felt was happening in my brain. I sat up and tried to use my beginner meditation skills to watch the lights.

I’m tempted to assign meaning to that experience….Could it have been shaktipat? Was I feeling the spiritual energy transmitted by Roy? Was I overheated from sleeping all week in the hot unventilated room? Or was it the random firing of neurons? Wishful thinking that I had been transformed in some way?

At the time, I didn’t know what was going on, and I don’t think I’ll ever know. Roy always told us to disregard “mental phenomena” like lights and visions. He told us to go beyond them to experience pure existence being, our true Self. 

Whether the initiation night experience was triggered by shaktipat doesn’t really matter. I did leave CSA that week inspired and motivated to follow Roy’s instructions to meditate and live righteously.

I was not a perfect student, but I did my best to follow Roy’s teachings and example for the next 14 years.

My Ups and Downs as a Disciple

After that first trip and every trip to Roy’s, I felt the fire. I would be so fired up that I would wake at 5 am or earlier to meditate. I felt that waking up spiritually was the most important thing I could do, or at least I felt that way 30 minutes a day. It helped that I was teaching hatha yoga, and even though most of my students didn’t come to class for meditation and spiritual growth, at least I was in a situation to bring a little of my passion to class and hopefully inspire others.

I returned to CSA at least once a year for fourteen years, and sometimes three or four times. Every week-long visit, I was re-initiated, this time fully informed. Sometimes I would go down just for the Sunday service. It seems crazy to take a five hour trip to sit in silence with someone for 30 minutes, but I was always glad I did. Usually I went for one week retreat plus one weekend, and the three-hour holy season meditation in December. Every December he gave us a gift…his newest book, a magnet, a cup…all to keep us mindful of his message – that we are spiritual beings with unlimited potential. In between visits, I read what I could of Roy’s prolific writings. 

From time to time, when a student or friend seemed interested, I would share about Roy and Kriya. I would pass on a newsletter or bring someone with me to CSA. A few times we hosted meditations at our house.

Then sometimes…life got busy. For about 10 years, I had to be at work at 6 or 7 am. There was not as much volatility, travel, and excitement as the earlier stage of my life. It was a steadier time. I was centered on making a living, building my experience and credibility in my field, and building a life at home. If I had to sum up my yoga story in just a few words, Part 1 would be PLAY, and Parts 2 & 3 (this one) would be WORK.

I went through phases when I only meditated a few minutes, or not at all. Roy’s newsletter sat unopened on the kitchen table for weeks. I thought I was too busy. I see now that besides work, my thoughts and hours were full of things that felt important then but just don’t seem like priorities anymore. I felt like my spiritual practices were separate from the rest of life, and I’d get back to them as soon as I could. 

I wish I could say that I met Roy and then my whole life centered on my spiritual growth. I wish I had immediately put into practice what he taught us- that ALL of life is spiritual practice! I wish I could say that I followed the advice Yogananda gave him, and he gave us: 

“Read a little.
Meditate more.
Think of God all the time.”

I saw other student-disciples for whom that was the case or it seemed to be. They had an instant knowing that Roy was their guru, and something clicked inside them to follow through on the practices with consistency and to live with devotion every day. I longed to feel what they felt, but I didn’t. I definitely did what I could, but I see now that I wasn’t ready to take in everything that Roy had to give.

You may be thinking that I’m too hard on myself. While I went through times that the former Catholic in me felt guilt over not being a “good enough disciple,” I’ve let that go. Now I see that I was evolving in my own time. It takes effort to train the mind onto a new pathway, and I see that I have made progress.

I won’t say meditation is easy, but it is easier and more enjoyable now. I am calmer and a little bit wiser. I am more devoted and committed to spiritual growth than ever before. My Hatha yoga teacher Lillah said that yogis are beginners for the first 20 years. If that’s true, I’m on the cusp of being an “advanced beginner.”

I was right about something…that feeling of being an antennae in the meditation hall. Roy told us that when Yogananda was alive and even after he wasn’t, Roy was attuned (tuned in) to his guru’s energy. Even though I was not a perfect disciple, I must have absorbed some shaktipat just by being in the room to receive the darshan, reading the books, and meditating the best I could.

I know I picked something up because here I am, seventeen years later, tears of gratitude welling up as I write. I am so grateful. I’m writing this down because I have been blessed, and I want to pass it on. I feel Spirit-led to write about it.

Transitions

Roy made his mahasamadhi on March 27, 2019. Mahasamadhi is what it’s called when a great yogi leaves his physical body intentionally and consciously. I wasn’t present to attest to that, of course, but based on how Roy lived, most of us assume that he did go that way.

Monty told me about Roy’s transition a day or two later. It took my breath away. I gasped and sobbed as it sunk in. I honestly had not ever thought about life without Roy. I never thought about his death until it happened.

We had decided to skip Roy’s 88th birthday lunch earlier in March because our old dog-soulmate Julio was sick. I was upset that we hadn’t gone. I felt lost. How would I continue without Roy next door in Georgia? Then I realized that he had already given us everything. Besides his volumes of writing, we had known him as a teacher and role model, and had been in his presence often enough to remember his peaceful energy forever.

During April and May, we mourned Roy’s transition (for ourselves, not for him) and said goodbye to our soulmate Julio. At the time, I didn’t see what was coming, but now I see for the rest of 2019, I was sliding closer and closer to the next phase of my yoga story – SURRENDER.

In Part 1, I described the annamayakosha – the outermost sheath of the physical body, and how my experiences with hatha yoga helped me understand and work with my body. I realize now that all those years with Roy were helping me begin the work on my manomayakosha, the mental sheath. Gradually, my views on the world and my life have shifted. His consistent speaking and writing of the truth have sunk in, and I finally see myself as a spiritual being expressing in my unique way. 

In Part 4, I’ll tell more about the changes in my mental outlook, what I’ve learned about surrender, and what I’m going to do next. If you want to join me, make sure you’re on the mailing list.

Your Turn

  • What is your reaction to this blog post?

  • Have you ever met a spiritual teacher in person and how they did impact you? 

  • If you have a meditation practice, what benefits have you experienced?

  • What was it like when you first started to meditate and what has changed since then?

  • What questions do you have?

My Yoga Story and Why I’m Starting Over as a Beginner (Part 2)

Meeting the quiet enlightened yogi of Lakemont, Georgia

When I say the words “spiritual guru,” you may think of the Buddha, or the Dalai Lama, or Mother Theresa, or another saint that resonates with your culture and your faith. When I tell you that I’ve met a spiritual guru, you may think that I went to an exotic land, to a hidden temple, and met a mystical figure in a robe.

Instead I went to Lakemont, a tranquil village in the rural Georgia mountains, to the Center for Spiritual Awareness, and met Roy Eugene Davis. Roy Eugene Davis is not a household name, because as enlightened yoga masters go, he kept a pretty low profile, and he only wore his robe for special occasions. 

This part of the story overlaps with Part 1 (which is about how I got into the physical part of yoga) and kicks off when I was 30 years old, a year home from the Peace Corps and freshly graduated from yoga teacher training. It’s often said that graduations are new beginnings, and that was true for me. Where does my yoga story pick up next? I’m going to take you to Lakemont where I met Roy and got introduced to meditation and Kriya yoga. But first, I’ve got to tell you about the book that changed my life.

Autobiography of a Yogi and Kriya Yoga

Autobiography of a Yogi

As a graduation present, my now-husband-then-boyfriend Monty gave me a book, Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. 

A little bit about this book:  It’s been in print since 1946; it’s been translated into 50 or more languages; and it’s sold at least 4 million copies. In it, Yogananda described his childhood, spiritual education/evolution, and global mission to help mankind through Kriya yoga. 

Kriya is a Sanskrit word for action, and Kriya yoga is a concentrated action plan for complete spiritual enlightenment. Complete spiritual enlightenment sounds like a big deal, and it is: It means we are always aware of ourselves as spiritual beings, unlimited by the physical body or mental and emotional conditionings. One famous follower of Kriya yoga was Steve Jobs. From his teenage years on, he read Autobiography every year until his death. It was the only book on his iPad. He arranged to give a copy of the book to each person at his funeral.

Monty gave me this book. It was the iconic orange paperback edition. Like Steve Jobs, Monty was introduced to Autobiography as a teenager. Unlike Steve Jobs (as far as I know), Monty had the good fortune to meet Yogananda’s direct disciple Roy Eugene Davis, who lived and taught in the north Georgia mountains. Monty suggested that I read the book and go meet Roy.*

Before I go any further, let me put your mind at ease about the word disciple. If you’ve never been around an enlightened master (as I certainly hadn’t!), it might sound cult-like or otherwise worrisome. You’re probably familiar with the word disciple from the Bible. Disciple comes from the Latin word discipulus meaning “student.” A dedicated disciple of any spiritual path respects the teacher and teachings and puts what is learned into practice. Roy was about the most low-key, introverted guru you could imagine, in that he wasn’t looking for followers or fame, so there was not any ego or cult involved in having disciples/students. 

*Many people will only refer to Roy Eugene Davis using his full name, or as Mr. Davis, or Guruji.  I intend no disrespect. It’s just that at home, we always call him Roy, as I do in my mind and heart.

Besides finishing up yoga teacher training, I was wrapping up my first and only year teaching high school Spanish. I wasn’t sure what I would do next or how I would support myself, but I had the summer free to work those things out and took advantage of my in-flux-and-flexible life circumstances to follow Monty’s advice.

I didn’t know the book’s claims to fame, anything about Kriya yoga, anything about Roy. As with my entry into hatha yoga, I ended up in the right place at the right time without premeditation, desire, or even an inkling that I needed what I would find. Later I learned that my many instances of unplanned good fortune are the influence of grace.

Reading it for the first time, I remember feeling a combination of incredulousness and amazement. Some of Yogananda’s boyhood stories about enlightened masters with super-powers left me wondering, “Can this be true? Is this real?” The less fantastical parts of the book described practical ways we can free ourselves of suffering. I read examples of regular people who achieved success and spiritual growth. That actionable “self-help” part appealed to me, and after reading the book, I scheduled a week-long retreat at Roy’s place, Center for Spiritual Awareness.

Next Stop: The Center for Spiritual Awareness and Meeting Roy Eugene Davis

CSA is an organization with global outreach that maintains its headquarters and a beautiful, quiet 11-acre retreat center in Lakemont, in Rabun County.  I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been there; the first time was in August 2005.

Upon arrival, I first got acquainted with CSA’s grounds and routine. The retreat is several miles from the main road and is very quiet. As Rabun County is the rainiest county in Georgia, the CSA grounds are lush and green in spring and summer.  There are no TVs, no radios, no wi-fi routers. At the time, to get one bar of cell coverage, you had to walk 10 minutes up a steep hill and stand just so on a pile of gravel. It’s an ideal place to unplug.

I was assigned to sleep in the old blue house (no longer there) next to the meditation temple and dining hall. The cabins and rooms are spartan but comfortable, with everything you need: a bed, sheets, towels, basic body wash, shampoo, and a hair dryer. There are shared kitchens with all the basics, plus complimentary local honey for your tea. I think it is a purposefully neutral environment, with a lot of cream, tan, and brown. They’ve made some updates since then, but my first impression was of a time capsule, with carpet, couches and soft chairs in the shared living areas that reminded me of the 1970s. Given that Roy moved to CSA in 1972, the furnishings may have been from that era! My roommate was Kathleen Rehling, a nurse from Atlanta, who welcomed me and answered some questions, as she had been a long-time disciple already at that point.  We were not supposed to change rooms, but the window unit air-conditioner blew right onto my bed, leaving me too cold, so I moved into another room that didn’t have A/C. (This detail is relevant later in the story.)

CSA’s routine at that time was:
7:00 am: 30-minute meditation
7:30 am: Optional hatha yoga
8:30 am: Breakfast
10:00 am: Lecture with Roy about Kriya yoga, meditation, and lifestyle
11:30 am: Lunch
2:00 pm: Class with Roy or another teacher
3:00 pm: Free time
5:00 pm: Dinner
6:00 pm: 30-minute meditation and video
7:00 pm: Dessert

The schedule may sound quite full, but there was still plenty of time to sleep, read, walk the grounds, and just be still and quiet.

The real “meat” of a CSA retreat, though, was not the activities, the education, the serene setting, or the delicious vegetarian meals. People came there from all over the world to be with Roy. People came for darshan, an opportunity to be in the presence of a holy person. There was a small community of people who moved to Lakemont for darshan with Roy. Roommate Kathleen would soon be one of them.

Later, they limited the number of retreat participants to 20, but for my first decade of CSA retreats, there were about 30-40 people staying on the property, plus locals who attended the daily programs.

If you saw Roy in the grocery store, or at his birthday party, you might notice a tall gentleman in his 70s with a great tan and excellent posture, but you wouldn’t say, “He looks real spiritual.”

Roy didn’t put on airs. When I saw him the first time and almost every time after that, he wore what he probably wore most days: jeans and a pressed long-sleeve button-down shirt.

On the outside he looked quite ordinary, but I quickly learned that he was far from it. In 1949, when Roy was a 17-year-old farm boy in Ohio, he read that same life-changing book, Autobiography of a Yogi. He knew that Yogananda was his spiritual teacher and that Kriya yoga was his path. When he turned 18 and graduated high school, he hitchhiked to Los Angeles and asked to become Yogananda’s disciple. Yogananda accepted him and mentored him for the next several years.

During my first week at CSA, Roy described his routine during his early years as a monastic. The word monastic comes from the same root as monk and monastery. A monastic’s lifestyle will depend on the spiritual tradition, but in Roy’s case, the Cambridge Dictionary definition will do: “a monastic way of living is simple with few possessions and no people near you.”

Yogananda sent Roy to Phoenix, Arizona, to assist with the meditation center and work at the affiliated goat dairy. Besides completing his duties, Roy meditated from 3-6 a.m., for an hour at noon, and for 2-3 hours each evening. By the time I met him, he’d been dedicated to an intense schedule of meditation, prayer, holistic lifestyle routines, travel, teaching, and prolific writing for almost 60 years. 

At lectures, he taught us how to meditate and how to live a structured, wholesome, balanced life with meaningful purpose. He emphasized that spiritual growth came not only from prayer, devotion, and meditation, but also from “right living.” Roy was serious and direct and didn’t waste any time with unnecessary talking, but he also knew how to put people at ease. My favorite parts were when he told personal stories about his time with Yogananda. He could laugh at himself and often had a funny joke for us, too.

I didn’t fully absorb everything Roy said. Some of it was just over my head. I didn’t have an instant sense of communion with Roy that some disciples describe. That said, I did feel peaceful in his presence, and I knew it was good for me to be there.

In Part 1, I described the annamayakosha – the outermost sheath of the physical body, and how my experiences with hatha yoga helped me understand and work with my body. I realize now that from the beginning, Roy helped me begin the work on my manomayakosha, the mental sheath. Even from the first visit, I was exposed to new ideas that changed my outlook and motivated me to be my best.

That first trip to CSA led to 14 years of visits to see Roy. In the next segment, I’ll share the ups and downs of those years, my first experiences with meditation, and being initiated into Kriya yoga. 

For now though, perhaps you’d like to listen to a speech I gave in September 2019, after Roy’s passing at age 88 earlier that year. I was invited to participate in the PechaKucha community festival and talk about anything I wanted for 6 minutes. I took the opportunity to share what I learned from Roy. See below for some related reading, listening, and watching. 

Related Reading, Listening, Watching

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My Yoga Story and Why I’m Starting Over as a Beginner (Part 1)

This is my story of how I started yoga, became a teacher, and got exposed to (and hooked on) the benefits that yoga has to offer. In Part 1, I’ll describe my experiences with hatha yoga, which is the branch of yoga that many people practice in the US. Hatha yoga can be described in many ways, but for the sake of simplicity in this article, I’ll use the term to refer to the physical practices of yoga, such as postures, breathing, gestures, and purification practices.

I came to yoga ignorant of its history, breadth, depth, and purpose. I grew up in Greer, South Carolina, in the 70s. Today Greer has several places to practice yoga, but back then, there wasn’t even whole wheat bread at the grocery store. My mom did yoga with Lilias Folan on TV, but I don’t recall any personal awareness of yoga or interest in it. I do remember my first yoga experience though, about a year after I moved to California.

My first yoga class and landing with the famous yogis

Like many others, perhaps like you, I came to yoga for stretching and stress relief. I had a job that didn’t suit me, for which I wore uncomfortable shoes and sat in a windowless cubicle all day. I was 24, living in Oakland, California, and working in “The City.” That’s what people who live in the Bay Area call San Francisco, in case you don’t know. (They never call it “Frisco.”)

I had a pretty hip life! It was the Big City Life I had always imagined for myself when I was a teenager living in a small town. When I wasn’t working, I did every single fun thing that crossed my path — dancing, parties, festivals, concerts, restaurants, bars, travel, and exploration of the cultural melting pot of San Francisco. I was on the go all the time, fueled by youth, curiosity, and coffee. I felt good about myself and my life. The job didn’t even bother me, because I was having so much fun elsewhere.

Then one evening I walked into a yoga class at the Oakland Athletic Club. The Oakland Athletic Club no longer exists, but was near the 12th Street BART station in downtown Oakland. It was a bare bones gyml. No spa, no pool, no lavender-scented towels or complimentary coffee, just some cardio and weight machines and a spartan group exercise room with a ballet bar. I don’t remember more about the decor or ambiance, because I think they were non-existent.

My teacher was Jill Woolums. She wore a black ballet leotard and white tights, her black hair in a tight bun. I remember standing ramrod straight with my ankle up on the ballet bar, breathing. I had never thought about breathing before. Jill was giving us a series of instructions, methodically telling us precisely what to do with every muscle in our bodies:

“Spread your toes.”
“Press the big toe mound forward, and turn the outer shin out.”
“Hug your outer hip muscles toward the hip socket.”

I remember concentrating, feeling focused and present. It felt good. I kept going back, week after week. 

At the time, I didn’t know or care that almost all of my energy was going outward, to the exciting things happening in San Francisco and my life. Consciously, I didn’t go to yoga class because I felt I was missing something. Although I had always been attracted to an active lifestyle and overall health, I wasn’t looking for quiet, focus, peace, or personal growth. Somehow, my inner compass got me to those yoga classes anyway. 

I followed Jill to Piedmont Yoga Studio, which happened to be walking distance from my house in Oakland. Without a clue, I had landed at a studio of “famous yogis,” whom I later learned taught all over the world, starred in yoga videos, and wrote for Yoga Journal. I settled in Richard Rosen’s Saturday class for a couple of years, and appreciated his quiet, grounded way of leading me to physical and mental peace. I also didn’t know that I had landed with teachers who had been trained by BKS Iyengar, a yoga legend who pioneered an adaptive style of yoga using props to aid students in aligning their joints. They taught with a slow, mindful attention to detail that appealed to me before I knew there were other approaches to yoga.

Peace Corps Honduras and Two Minutes a Day

While living my Big City Life, I had another long-term goal in mind, also born from the desire for more adventure than I thought I could find in Greer. I had wanted to be a Peace Corps volunteer ever since the impressionable age of 13 or 14. An extremely attractive, hunky college guy from my church – on whom I had harbored a crush since birth – went to Mali with the Peace Corps, and I decided the Peace Corps was for me too. Later there was some corroborating evidence that it was a good choice for me, such as my first international journey to Guatemala at age 18, which further lit my passion for international service work, language, and travel. I applied to the Peace Corps and was invited to move to Honduras, Central America, for 27 months as a water and sanitation volunteer. Something inspired me to commit to myself that I would do two sun salutations every day. I followed through on my commitment, and it changed my life.

Those two or three minutes every morning became an anchor in my days and my life. I did those sun salutations during training, when my brain hurt from hearing and speaking Spanish all day. I did them working in the field, where we learned to do topographical studies and build water captation boxes. I did them when my original location assignment changed at the end of training, and I was in limbo for several weeks with no idea where I would live and work for two years. Finally settled in Corquín, Copan, I practiced yoga with a soundtrack of roosters, on my cold concrete floor and outside in the yard with my cashew tree.

Friends in the US sent me yoga stuff…Yoga Journal magazines. Books. A yoga strap (I still have it today). A  Yogis’ Companion  audio CD (It’s still on my iphone). Little kids and moms joined me from time to time to do yoga in my house. I taught myself what I could.

A group of Peace Corps volunteers got together to put on a yoga retreat at an organic farm. A few were “real teachers” (certified yoga instructors). The rest of us were making things up in our homes. I led a practice as best I could. We ate organic vegetarian food. I felt at home with those yogis.

On an eight-hour bus ride from Corquín to the capital Tegucigalpa, I read Erich Shiffman’s book Yoga: The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness. There was a breathing exercise that I think was called “Countdown from 50.”

Inhale 50, exhale 49, inhale 48, exhale 47… until you get to 20.
Then inhale/exhale 20, inhale/exhale 19…. until 0.

I followed the instructions. Cramped on that hot bus, with no clean restroom for six more hours….I did the breathing exercise, and I felt what I now know to be oneness consciousness. By the time I got to 0, I loved all those people on the bus and everything I saw outside too. I wanted more of that feeling.

 Side note: Countdown from 50 is a great way to fall asleep too. It almost always works for me. In this video interview, around the 18 minute mark, I talk about the countdown, my first yoga class, and my oneness consciousness moment on the bus.

Yoga Teacher Training in the "San Francisco of the Appalachians"

By the time I finished my Peace Corps service, I knew I could not go back to the cubicle. I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life, but I knew I wanted more yoga. I came back to South Carolina for a supposedly brief visit with my parents. While there I learned a yoga studio had opened in Greenville, S.C.. It was called The Yoga Haus, and also does not exist anymore. I became a regular, volunteered to work at the desk, and quickly found my home with the two Iyengar-trained teachers, Janice Batson and Caroline Perlman. Their classes felt like what I had known before – slow, methodical, precise, and calming. Caroline had just graduated from teacher training with Lillah Schwartz, so I knew she was the teacher I needed to meet. 

My mother and I traveled to Asheville, NC, for a trial class with Lillah. I was at home again with the detailed instructions, precision, clarity and quiet. Iyengar yogis typically don’t play music in class. I felt a sense of absolute presence and peace doing the class. Lillah’s teacher training had started for the year, and I had missed one weekend, but she encouraged me to complete the application, and she would consider admitting me.

I had already booked a trip back to San Francisco, planning to find my yoga teacher there. I did make that trip and interviewed several teachers. They weren’t right for me. Somehow I knew that while I would always love the Bay Area and my friends there, it wasn’t the place I was supposed to live at that time. I came home to the South, instead of the hip West Coast, to study yoga in Asheville for the next year. 

Lillah required us to practice yoga a minimum of five hours per week, or 45 minutes per day. This could be a combination of asana (postures), pranayama (breathwork), and dhyana (meditation). On top of that, we were to study anatomy, philosophy, and teaching methods. I spent the majority of my practice time on asana. My favorite guidebook was Yoga: The Iyengar Way by the Mehtas. We went to class one weekend per month, fitting in 23 hours of training into each weekend.  When we weren’t studying and practicing, we ate and slept. I loved every minute. During that year, I had several more a-ha moments like the one on the bus, when I felt alive, present, enthralled, and connected to something bigger than myself.

Going Deeper Into the Body

Over the next 17 years, I went deeper into yoga as a physical practice, completing certifications as a back care specialist, yoga therapist, and yoga for scoliosis trainer. I continued to study with Lillah, Gabriel Halpern, and Elise Browning Miller. I got a job at a wellness center, where I could try out new ideas on my students and build a mini yoga community. Besides yoga, I pursued training and certifications in personal training, water aerobics, spinning, Zumba, golf fitness, functional movement, balance, wellness coaching, nutrition, and more. I went back to community college for anatomy classes. I was fascinated with how the body works and how to help it work at its best.

What I didn’t know when I started was that these physical practices and disciplines are just a small part of yoga. I went deep into the study of asana and deep into what yogis call the annamayakosha, the outermost sheath of our being, which shows up in this life as the physical body. Asana is just one of the eight limbs of yoga described by sage Patanjali in The Yoga Sutras, and the annamayakosha is just one of the five sheaths.

In teacher training and my subsequent studies, I touched on yoga’s broader and deeper roots:  ethical lifestyle guidelines, personal principles, control of the senses, concentration, meditation, and the end goal – complete liberation of consciousness (freedom from the restraints of the human condition). I made efforts to practice them, but I didn’t go deep, and I didn’t LIVE them the way I practiced and embodied the physical poses.

I’m not judging that as bad, and I can be pretty hard on myself when I’m not perfect.  : ) I see my path as a natural evolution, and a common one. When I dipped my toe into yoga, I got what I was looking for…stretching and stress relief. Then as I got deeper in, I learned about the vast personal and spiritual growth opportunities yoga offers.

In another blog post, I’ll share the next phase of my yoga journey, meeting a yoga master who helped me begin a meditation practice and opened my eyes to how yoga could help me navigate life with more peace and clarity. And then, I’ll invite you to join me as I start over on the eight limbs of yoga and other holistic yoga practices, with a beginner’s mind. Stay tuned.

ADDENDUM

I did not consult my mother before publishing this, although that would have been a good idea! After she read it, she emailed me these nuggets:

  • “Joan,  When I was doing a headstand, & my daughters were 7yrs & 3yrs, they wanted to do it. So I helped them get their legs & feet up, & they enjoyed it. So we had lots of Headstand fun.  I still like the rush of blood to my head, and the brain boost. I also like to hang from my yoga belts in the doorway & do hip stretches, & legs up the wall.”

I was the three-year-old she mentioned. When I read mom’s comment, I did remember the headstands. 

More from mom:

  • “I started yoga with my physical education teacher in H. S. during gymnastics. She showed us poses & let us try them. I liked my headstand. Later my Aunt Marge & I would do Lion pose on all fours, roaring from our mouths. First teacher was on ETV yoga.  Beyond postures, I like the breathing deeply and the quiet centering of yoga.” 

For me, writing is a way to clarify my own thoughts and beliefs. In this case, it also brought up memories. A few weeks after publishing this, I remembered a trip to Greece, while I was a 21-year-old study-abroad student in England. A classmate and I did sun salutations on the beach.  The seeds were planted earlier than I had remembered.

Your Turn...

For now, I’d like to hear from you….

  • How did you get started in yoga?
  • Who was your first teacher?
  • What kept you coming back?
  • What do you know about the  aspects of yoga beyond postures?

Why I quit doing yoga, and why (and how) I started again

I'm a little embarrassed to admit this...but I quit doing yoga.

Let me clarify. In 2020, I quit practicing yoga postures (asana) in the way that I had for the previous twenty years.

In this post, I’ll share why I quit, and why (and how) I started again. If you’ve strayed from a yoga practice or anything else that you used to love, this might help.

The pandemic ate my hustle

It’s no surprise, and I’m not alone, in that during the pandemic, I could not muster the motivation and discipline to do the things I used to do.  For about 10 years, I practiced asana 45-60 minutes a day, and for the six years after that, I practiced 30-40 minutes several days a week. My practice was structured  – bordering on rigid – with a list of poses to “get through” each week.

But during 2020, I just couldn’t get on my mat. I would roll it out early in the day, and then busy myself with other things, and roll it up at the end of the day. I was experiencing anxiety for the first time in my life, and what I wanted to do to help myself was GO OUTSIDE AND MOVE.

So I did. I walked and biked and swam and paddled and walked some more.  I joined an online workout group to lift weights. I got out of the habit of doing yoga poses every day, except for a few restorative poses. (I always do legs up the wall when I feel tired. That hasn’t changed.)

Leading up to this time, I had also learned more about biomechanics and the history of hatha yoga. I knew that the poses we practice today do not have as much historical  significance to the ancient art of enlightenment as I previously thought. And I learned other ways to achieve similar physical benefits. So part of the magic-mystique-spiritual power of specific poses was gone for me. 

It felt weird. I felt guilty, because at the time, I was still teaching asana. I felt like a fake, because I wasn’t practicing what I preached/taught, and I no longer bought into the lore around the poses themselves.

But in many ways, I was practicing yoga….by honoring how I felt in that moment, and giving my body-mind what it needed, which was walking outdoors. I was also practicing more meditation, which is one of the eight limbs of yoga and seemed a natural evolution of my practice.

I learned to surrender attachment to old habits and routines, and make room for new ones. I let myself let go, and I forgave myself too. (I wrote more about that in Change Point, if you’re interested.) 

What brought me back to yoga...I need it, it feels so good, and I can use it to help others.

As the pandemic had eaten my hustle, I was at a loss for how to proceed in my business. I was burned out on teaching, drained from teaching online, and looking for another way to earn money.

I ended up taking some office work, which led to leading mindfulness trainings in businesses and schools.

It was all good, enjoyable, and meaningful work…but I was SITTING A LOT! I was sitting at the computer. I was sitting in meetings. I was sitting in my car. I got a stand-up desk, but then I was just standing in one place. 

It gave me new empathy for how people feel who sit a lot, and it made me realize I NEEDED YOGA!

Intellectually, I knew how to create a similar impact on muscles, joints, and connective tissue with other types of movement. But what I found was that for me, nothing could replace the delicious feeling of yoga stretching. There actually IS a magical combination of mindful attention and awareness, stretching, and breathing that leaves me feeling more supple and elongated all day long.

One of my students said, “When I do yoga, it feels like my muscles breathe.” This pretty much sums it up.

At this time, some friends and former students asked me to start a new class or come to their homes for private yoga. I knew that they needed yoga too.

How I Came Back to Yoga in a New Way

Without the pressure of being a full-time yoga teacher, and with a new understanding and direct experience of the impact of sedentary work, I came back to my asana practice in a very simple way.

I committed to 15 minutes a day. The only rule is to pay attention to my body for that 15 minutes.

I let go of my rigidity about the “right way” to do postures, and let myself wiggle, explore, or be still as needed.

No lists of poses. No daily goals. No pushing. It’s become a time to just be quiet and give my body what it needs. Sometimes I do one seated pose, and stay for a mini-meditation. Sometimes 15 minutes turns into 20 or 30. Sometimes I just lie on the floor. 

I wasn’t sure if I would teach yoga again, after my break at the 17 year point. But some of you have asked, and I will say YES when I can. You teachers out there know that we have to practice for our students, and that’s a side benefit of being a yoga teacher!

My intention with coming back to teaching again is to help students experience these benefits:

  • a chance to feel that delicious yoga stretch feeling
  • exploration and understanding of their bodies
  • time and space to be quiet, breathe, stretch, and go slow
  • an invitation to be meditative and reflective
I’m going to be teaching on a “one class at a time” basis, when I can. If you’d like to join, make sure to sign up for the email list, and mark whether you’re local or not.

Can you relate?

Can you relate? Have you ever quit doing something even though it was good for you? 

How and why did you come back?

Leave a comment below!

Change is an inside job

We are all going after the same stuff.

I’ve worked with people from all walks of life: Silicon Valley techies, rural Honduran coffee farmers, golfer-athletes, retirees committed to dynamic aging, and business leaders determined to perform at their best level.

Here’s two important things I’ve learned:

  1. We all want basically the same things – to be healthy, happy, peaceful, and prosperous, to have harmonious relationships, and to feel a sense of growth and purpose in life. We want to look good and carry ourselves well, too.

  2. No matter how much we look to external circumstances, teachers, books, the Internet, or any external source for guidance…

Change is an inside job.

Of all the people I’ve worked with in my roles as a public health educator, personal trainer, fitness teacher, yoga therapist, and wellness coach, the ones who made lasting changes understood that they had to make mental, emotional, and spiritual shifts to make the practical physical habits stick.

COVID/quarantine has given me a chance to think, to feel, and most importantly, to reorganize my priorities.

What’s at the top now?

Soul Peace

I’m still offering yoga therapy, posture school, and functional movement guidance. I’m here to help you be flexible, balanced, and strong with personalized exercise and wellness plans. Feeling good physically definitely contributes to soul peace!

But I’m also opening up some opportunities to do the inner work. I’m inviting you to join me as I make soul peace top priority in my own life.

I created Change Point as a method to set and achieve goals (the right ones), even during times of hardship and ongoing stress.

First master your mindset, then you can do anything!

Now I'd like to hear from you...

Have you re-organized your priorites during COVID and quarantine? What’s at the top of your list? Please comment below.