Om

To my delight, Zora has gotten to see me practice yoga pretty regularly lately. She's usually running around playing, arranging toys, looking at books, and sometimes crawling under me or on top of me in postures. The other day though, I stepped up to the front of my mat to do the opening prayer, and Zora asked "Can I chant with you?" Then she busted out with the prayer (in Sanskrit). I guess it shouldn't have been too surprising, as she's been hearing me chant it for awhile now, but it still took me awhile to learn it myself. She definitely has her father's brain when it comes to memorizing things! This morning I managed to catch her on tape. And yes, that's Zecky cleaning himself in the background ;-)

A Shift

A little over a month ago, Zora and I went in for our yearly physicals. I wasn't too surprised when I stepped on the scale to find that I had gained almost 10 pounds over the past year (we don't have a scale at home, so I never weigh myself). Zora is still nursing, but far less frequently, and I probably haven't adjusted my diet to match. What really hit me though, was when my ND asked me what kind of exercise I was getting. "Um, none really". This was the first time I have ever had that answer, and it felt kind of like a kick in the stomach to me.

I've always been pretty active, and when I started my Ashtanga practice (it will be 8 years this March!), it was the first yoga practice I had that was so physically rigorous. It felt like I was exercising as well as doing yoga. I should probably stop here, since I know a lot of people do consider yoga to be exercise, and it certainly can be. I am not intending to discount or belittle that in any way. It's just to me, the reason I did yoga was not for exercise. Sometimes it was for physical reasons--it did make my body feel better. Mostly though, it was a way for me to calm my mind, my spirit, and be present in both. Exercise was always a separate endeavor for me. When my Ashtanga practice started to be 2 hours, 5-6 days a week though, it seemed like a bonus to be able to count that time as exercising as well. And I think somewhere along the way, I became attached to that. Attached to my yoga practice exercising my body.

I've chronicled here, on this blog, the journey I've had with my Ashtanga practice. My practice has gone up and down. I stopped for awhile, and started up again, only to stop again. I've felt all kinds of frustration over not being able to do certain postures, and having such severe wrist pain that I could no longer do vinyasas. I tried making my practice public a little, to keep myself accountable. I tried practicing in "secret", without Alex even knowing (only Zora knew, since she was there). I think all of these things were symptoms and consequences though, of my attachment to my yoga-exercise. I wanted that rigorous practice back. That was what I was working toward. To do any less than that, I would not be getting the exercise I needed. But I wasn't even close to achieving this goal, which just led to more frustration.

So I completely stopped again. And it sucked. Then, somewhere along this path of no-yoga-at-all, there was a shift. Something clicked and I realized that, even if I was exercising my body during my yoga practice, that was not what I wanted my practice to be about, and I needed to let go of that attachment. I decided to start off again, with sun salutations as a goal, and that's it. So far, every time I've practiced, I've gone beyond the Surya Namaskaras, which is fine, but I'm intentionally not trying to build up to something. I need some time to get to know my practice again, for what it is--yoga.

For now it's taking place in the middle of our living room (not in the yoga room), because that's a place where I know I can exist peacefully for 20 minutes. Sometimes Alex is there to interact with Zora,  and tend to her if needed. Sometimes I am alone with Zora and my practice is interrupted briefly a couple of times. For the most part though, Zora seems cool with me yoga-ing in the living room.

I'm using these 20-30 minutes a day as a way to reacquaint myself with a practice that I don't want to lose completely. Even in the middle of my living room, with the noise and activity going on around me, I'm able to find little moments of calm and clarity. And really, that's all I ever would get even when I was practicing in a room full of Ashtangis surrounded by all kinds of wonderful yoga energy, or alone in our yoga room at home, before Zora was born, with nothing to think about but my practice. Little moments.

And exercise will be separate. I'm finding ways to exercise that will fit in with all the craziness and business of my life. I just started hooping. We'll see if it sticks. I hope next year when I go in for my annual exam, I will be able to say "yes, I am exercising regularly, and I have my yoga practice". And the scale can shove it, since I really don't care what it says!

Zora's First Surya Namaskara B

Sorry it's sideways. When we're recording, we always forget that our video editor can't rotate...

The wagon pushed me off!

So, I didn't make it to the yoga workshop this weekend. I caught some kind of stomach bug, and could hardly get off the couch all of Friday and most of Saturday. Today I felt much better, but weak and depleted so there was no way I could go. I spoke with a friend last night who also had a situation beyond her control preventing her from doing her yoga practice. She asked "doesn't it feel like your body is conspiring against you?" Yes, it does.

So, I'm asking, nay, imploring my body to please give me a chance this week. Pretty please? I promise it will be worth it!

Slowly climbing back on the wagon

I have fallen off the yoga wagon. My last yoga post was Jan 2. Over a month and a half ago. True, there have been loads of items of note going on in my mama-life lately (no more diapers, night-weaning, banana eating...), but this is not a good sign for a blog called "Z's Yoga Mama". So what's been going on with my yoga practice? Well, let's take a look. Since New Year's Eve, I've been keeping track of my practice. I've created this handy-dandy chart* to better visualize the trends...

*Please note, the vertical axis on this chart is my best attempt to quantify my yoga practice. I'm aware that this chart is not really mathematically or quantitatively meaningful. 

Hmm... what are all those gaps about? Let me try to make it a little more clear...

To be totally clear, those sick arrows that keep getting bigger include the sickness level of the entire house (not just me). These arrows included fun events such as "Papa's Never-Ending Sore Throat", "Pinkeye Family Tour, 2011" (we were all cured quickly by breastmilk drops in the eyes, but it was still not fun), and "Mama's Dry Nighttime Cough That Woke the World". There were moments when I was actually feeling quite healthy, but would be completely sleep-deprived because Zora was not sleeping well at all, or way too busy keeping the household running because Alex was napping 20 hours a day. And then there's the motivation factor. With all of this going on, and with my yoga practice slowly spiraling down the toilet, it was so very difficult to even drag my tired, aching body onto my yoga mat.

But I really am trying to climb back on the wagon, and get my practice up and running again. Last week I hit another glitch when I started a mastitis episode (probably night-weaning related), but that quickly resolved with some rest and a homeopathic remedy.

This coming weekend, Alex and I will be alternating attendance to a yoga workshop with Richard Freeman (hosted by Troy Lucero), and I'm hoping this will be a spark to light the fire in my practice again.

How living with cats prepared me for parenting a human... except for when it didn't

From birth, I have always lived with cats. The most I've ever had was seven (4 adults and 3 kittens), and the fewest was one. I moved out of my mom's house when I was 18, and a few months later adopted Harley. Next came Zecky (in my friend's hamper), and lastly Kaya (left in the night-drop box at the local shelter). Harley was hit by a car when he was just 5 year old :-( , but Zecky and Kaya have stuck with me through two relationships, ten moves (including five cities, three states, two countries, two cross-country trips in moving trucks and three plane trips), one hurricane evacuation and the arrival of one baby. They were there, next to me while I was going through my noisy labor (well, Zecky was sleeping) and they were there when Zora was born (Kaya took off for a day right after the birth, which had me fretting to no end). They are often there when we practice yoga--and Kaya loves to join us for shavasana (we call it chat-vasana--"chat" is "cat" in French). I love cats, but I L.O.V.E. my two kitties. While I was pregnant, they would curl up next to my tummy and purr, which would inevitably make the baby start kicking. Zora loved the kitties even before she was born :-)

Chat-vasana

Kaya was thrilled to find out we were having a baby

As usual, Zecky took a nap

Zecky looking for some attention during my labor

Kaya was the stillest thing in the room during my labor

But, like having a kid, life with the kitties has not always been easy. There are a few lessons I learned from my two furry friends that have come in handy once I was a mother to a human child. Well, to a certain extent...

1. Don't get too attached to material things (like your hair!): Children spill things and break things and get poop on things. I was already more than ready for this when Zora arrived. Most of these "ruining shit that I care about" lessons came from Zecky. He has spilled all kinds of food (he once dove into an over-easy egg I was eating, splattering yolk all over me and the couch--this was pre-vegan Nicole), knocked things down, and has tracked mud over every surface of the house. When Zecky was about two years old, he gave me an unsolicited haircut. This is not a joke. I used to have hair down to my waist, and I would braid it at night. Zecky would often try to chew on the hair-tie, so I would hide my braid under my pillow. One night, I guess I forgot to put my braid under the pillow, and I was sleeping more soundly than usual, and Zecky spent the entire night chewing on my hair. I'm still not joking. I awoke to a pile of hair on my pillow, which totally freaked me out. I looked in the mirror, and saw that Zecky had completely chewed through one third of my braid. He cut off about 12 inches of my hair. My hair is as straight as it comes, so there was no hiding this missing chunk. The only solution was to cut the rest of my hair to the same length. I was pissed. I have since forgiven him, but I still wouldn't trust him with a clump of my hair.

2. Don't get too attached to a full night's sleep: One of the apartments Alex and I rented was on a busy street, so the kitties became indoor cats for one year (we did let them out on the balcony, which led to lesson #3). As anyone who has cats knows, once they get a taste of the outdoors, they can't really go back. Zecky and Kaya both went completely stir crazy in this apartment. Most of this was at night. They would tear around the apartment, crying, all night long. We tried closing them out of our room, but they would just scratch at the door. We tried putting them in the other bedroom, but then we had the sounds of Zecky trying to beat down the door.  Between the cats and the family of twelve that lived downstairs and blasted the TV at all hours, I didn't get much sleep that year. This still didn't quite prepare me for the sleep-deprivation of parenthood.

3.You must fight for your kitties (even if they may be rabid): As mentioned in #2, Zecky and Kaya were indoor cats for one year--except for going on the balcony. We lived on the second story and we rigged it so they couldn't get down, but they could still go out to get some fresh air, to catch some rays... and to catch bats. Alex woke me up in the wee hours of the morning saying "Zecky caught a bat!" Half asleep, I asked where it was. "Flying around in the apartment". I was up. I should stop here, before I make this story too long. Here's the abbreviated version:
Zecky caught a bat. We called animal control to come save the bat dying on our balcony. Animal control lady came, bat was gone, so she asked for Zecky's rabies records. Zecky's shots were 2 weeks overdue. She took Zecky and said he would be put down. I called the guy in charge, cried and pleaded to get our cat back. He finally agreed to a 6-month home quarantine. We moved to New Orleans 3 months into this quarantine.
Ok, that was still kind of long. The cutest part was when Alex was plotting to break into the animal shelter and rescue Zecky. I think he would have done it.
 
4. Kitchen cupboards must be baby-proofed: Zecky can open anything. The doorknobs where we lived in France were latch style, so Zecky learned to jump up and hang from them to open doors. Watching this act would simultaneously dazzle Alex's great-aunt, and annoy his grandmother. When we moved back to the US, he would continue to try to open all doorknobs, even the round ones. Sometimes he would succeed. The kitties didn't have a kitty door in New Orleans, so when Zecky wanted in, he would just hang from the front doorknob until one of us would notice the knob jiggling (the first few times it was kind of scary...), and would let him in. His mad opening skills do not end there though. He also opens kitchen cabinets, and not just the ones at floor level. We actually needed more baby-proofing in the kitchen for our cat than for our human baby.

5. You might get some poop on you: This was a lesson from the dearly departed Harley. Harley was a fighter. One morning, I heard the telltale sounds of a cat fight--hissing, growling that grew louder and louder until it became howling. I ran out the door, just as the other cat was running off (Harley usually dominated!). I picked up Harley to make sure he was ok, and my heart skipped a beat. His tummy was completely covered in a warm, wet substance. I was sure it was blood, or worse, some part of his insides hanging out. I looked at my hand, expecting to see red, but instead saw brown. Yes, his entire tummy was covered in shit. I did a complete 180 degree turn in a microsecond. I went from loving, concerned mother to horrified and disgusted--I dropped Harley, and ran inside, closing the door behind me. I'll never know whose shit it was, but I suspect it belonged to the other cat. As I said, Harley dominated, and I think he literally scared the shit out of the other cat. As if this wasn't bad enough, Harley was back at the door, within 30 minutes, completely poo-free. He didn't get any kisses on his face for a long time...

6. Baby naps are done best together: This last lesson came Kaya. I adopted her when she was just a few weeks old, and I could feel that she still needed lots of physical contact. For the first several weeks, she would nap on my lap, or in the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt (my first experience with "babywearing"). She was able to settle down and sleep peacefully for longer periods. If I set her down to nap, she would just cry. Hmmm... sounds very familiar.

In all seriousness, I know that having a baby is not really like having a cat, but I do love my two kitties to pieces, and I feel so lucky that Zora is growing up with such an awesome pair of feline companions!

Kaya with napping newborn Zora

3-month-old Zora, with napping Zecky

Bus Body

Alex and I doing closing sequence at Kiran's in N.O.

When I lived in New Orleans, my body was the bendiest that it's ever been. Alex and I would leave home on our bikes at around 5:30am to get to the shala around 6 (this bike ride is another tale entirely--chased by feral dogs, scolded by police to steer clear of the 'hood, daily shout-outs and serenades by the residents...). This, in combination with the warm, humid climate, made me feel like rubber-woman during my practice. A nice feeling for someone who is not naturally flexible. I actually became hooked on this routine, and found it very difficult to practice without a bike ride first.

At some point during the fall after we started practicing Ashtanga (when it was still quite warm in New Orleans), Alex hurt his wrist and was unable to bike for a few weeks. What does biking have to do with a sore wrist? Well, biking amongst the potholes and general bumpiness of the streets in New Orleans is similar to being inside one of those paint shaking machines--I would imagine. You have to hold on for your dear life, and hope your bike has really good shocks! We lived too far away to walk, so we took the bus. The buses, like everything else in New Orleans, were air conditioned to the point of insanity (think Dr. Evil and Mr. Bigglesworth floating in outer space). Though I would wear layers on the bus, the air conditioning managed to permeate through my entire body--to the core. "Bus body" was a term coined by Kiran one morning when she was squishing me in paschimottanasana. As I've mentioned before, Kiran was amazingly tuned into energy and what was going on in our bodies (she even once noticed a change in my smell when I changed my diet). As soon as she started squishing me, she knew something was up. I told her we had taken the frigid bus to the shala, and my muscles were rock hard (as in stiff, not buff). This condition was henceforth known as "bus body". It was most noticeable early in the series, and would work itself out by the end of my practice--until I hopped on the bus again.

The reason I bring this up now, is that I'm currently in a perpetual state of "bus body". I no longer bike for 30 minutes before I practice, and I now live in a city that is cold more often than not. Because of this, every time I practice it starts off the same. First surya namaskara A: Inhale, arms up. Exhale, palms to the floor--but my palms don't come anywhere close to the floor! In some yoga traditions you would grab as far down on your legs as you can reach, but energetic connections are very important in Ashtanga, so we put our palms to the floor and bend our knees as deeply as needed. My knees are often bent in these forward bends through all of surya namaskara A and some of the surya namaskara B's. I had a nice break from "bus body" while on Maui, though my flexibility was nowhere near what it was in New Orleans. As much as I miss feeling like rubber-woman, I am thankful that my practice has been released from the shackles of a "pre-practice routine". I like being able to wake up, step on my mat, and begin the opening prayer. Well, it's not quite that simple. As the mother to a 2-year-old, I do have a few things to get in order before I can practice--none of which are "warm-ups", though. The surya namaskaras is my warm-up, as I think is intended.

Hello Z, goodbye yoga!

Welcome Zora!

Here's one more background post, before I return to the present. I know, it's kind of like a bad movie that keeps jumping around in time. Sorry about that!

On Sunday, November 16, 2008, Zora Rose Hoover Barchechat joined Alex and me in a tub in our living room, and decided to stay. Aside from all the hard work that had been put into getting her here, she was quite cute and cuddly too. We were thrilled. It's not recommended to start Ashtanga again for 3 months after giving birth. This was fine with me, since for the first several weeks after Zora was born, I didn't even think about yoga. When she was about 6 weeks old (before the 3 months!), I did try to practice once, but it definitely didn't feel right for my body, so I stopped.

I did try to start again at around 5 months, but there always seemed to be something standing in my way. For one, I was often completely sleep-deprived. Zora would wake to nurse every 30-60 minutes, and though she was in our bed, so I didn't have to get up, I would still be woken up. Zora was also not too crazy about being set down, so one of us was pretty much always wearing her (usually me)--not conductive to a yoga practice. So I waited some more.

Over Zora's first two years, I started my practice several times--and each time it fizzled out. It was so difficult to practice at home, since Zora would always want to play with me. If we closed the door to the yoga room (yes, we have an entire room devoted to yoga--an advantage to being minimalists), she would pound on the door, wanting in. For a few weeks, when she was around 18 months old, I practiced with her around and she would want to nurse about every 3 minutes--again, not conductive to a yoga practice--especially a vinyasa style yoga.

I have many, many flaws, but one positive trait I have is patience Each time my practice would fizzle out, I decided it was not the right time for me, and I waited.

I knew that practicing outside of the home would be a possibility, but I had not practiced in a yoga shala since Katrina (click for that story), and I didn't think I'd be comfortable practicing with a group of people. Enter BP. No, not the oil spill, but a very good friend of mine who has an adorable baby boy, E, who is 4 months younger than Zora. BP started learning Ashtanga from Alex a few months after E was born. She would periodically come to our house and practice, but once her work schedule and Alex's work schedule no longer synced, she started searching for a studio. There was one not too far from her house (and ours) that offered Ashtanga classes, so BP decided to try it. She invited me to the Sunday led-class, but I was resistant at first since I strongly prefer mysore classes--especially if my practice is feeling "weak". I was also weary of practicing with a new teacher. Finally, I decided to try it out, and felt much less nervous since I would be showing up with BP (I can be painfully shy and socially awkward).

It is now 3.5 months later, and I am still managing to get to the shala twice a week. This is a far cry from the 6-day-a-week practice I had before, but it also beats the no-practice practice I've had over the past two years! The teacher, SP, has a style very reminiscent of Kiran and Nancy. She has been totally supportive of me adding postures back slowly and gently, while also pushing me at times. I started out doing half of the primary series, and fairly quickly added on the rest of the postures, and the longer closing sequence. For the past two months, I've been adding the intermediate postures and I now go as far as parshva dhanurasana. BP and I go together every Sunday to the led class, and I love being able to do that with a friend--very motivating! Next Friday, which is New Year's Eve, there will be a shala breakfast after the mysore class. Alex and Zora will be joining us for the breakfast, as well as BP's family. I love feeling part of a yoga community again!

Z's First Mysore Class

Zora attended her first mysore class this morning. Just the fact that Zora (25 months tomorrow--or 2 years 1 month for those of you who don't like to count in months) was welcomed with open arms into Nancy's class adds to why I love Nancy Gilgoff so much! That's right, mysore with Nancy means that we're on Maui right now! Alex and I have attended a few of Nancy's workshops in various locations, and have always loved practicing with her. I truly feel blessed to know her and to have had my practice touched by her. It felt really special to practice at her shala.

When we let Nancy know we'd be in Maui, we told her that we both wanted a chance to practice at her shala, so we were planning on taking turns (one staying home with Zora while one went to the shala). Nancy said that her shala had seen many children and that Zora was more than welcome to join us. My home practice has been pretty much non-existent since Zora was born. I typically need to get out of the house if I want to do a full practice, so I didn't have high expectations, though I was willing to try. Alex and I decided that today I'd be "in charge" of Zora, meaning that I would practice, but if it was obviously not working out, I would stop my practice and take her out to play. Next time it will be Alex's turn.

When we arrived at the shala (after a wrong turn, but a very nice man with a wave tattoo on his shoulder set us straight--even though he insisted that he knew of no such yoga studio!), Nancy wasn't there yet, but several of her students were. They were all very friendly with Zora, and we set my mat up in the corner of the room and put out a few toys and books for her. Next Nancy's assistant Casie arrived, and gave us, and especially Zora, a very warm welcome. Then Nancy arrived, and it was really wonderful to see her again, and to get to introduce her an Zora to each other.

Zora "adjusting" me in baddha konasana at home

Zora and I played outside while the class did some meditation and then the opening prayer (which Zora totally recognized and wanted to go in and join them!). When they were all done, Nancy invited us back in, and I began my practice. For the first few minutes, Zora just sat and stared--dumbfounded! If you have never been in a mysore class, you should try it sometime. The energy is amazing. Zora has seen Alex practice quite a bit, and me somewhat, but she has never been in a room full of practitioners. The breath alone is a powerful force. Zora was also intrigued by Nancy and Casie who were walking around the room giving people adjustments. While I was in utthita parshvakonasana, Zora put her two hands on my hips and said "I'm holding you, Mama". It was the first adjustment I've received from her, aside from when she climbs on top of me during a posture. She also sat on my lap during navasana, which made the posture pretty much impossible. She told me "I want to sit in your boat", which is funny because navasana is the boat posture.

This was the first time I met Casie, and I immediately trusted her and felt comfortable with her adjustments. She has different adjustments from Nancy, but the energy is very similar, in that they are both very nurturing. Casie really won me over though, in the way she interacted with Zora. She was so sweet with her, and kept playing with Zora and talking with her (all the while, still going around the room and giving adjustments). I felt nervous a few times that Zora's chatter might be bothering some of the other practitioners, but Casie kept assuring me that it was fine. Zora is typically quite careful when on the back of my mat, and will ask "Are you jumping back, mama?", so she can get out of the way. Today though, Zora started doing her own jump-backs! She started off jumping back and landing on her knees (which seems like it would be painful, but she was fine), then Casie showed her how to land on her feet. It was really sweet!

After class, several of the students remarked how cute Zora was (who wouldn't think that?), and how fun it was having her in class. Nancy also mentioned how important she thinks it is to have kids in class from time to time so that the practitioners don't take themselves too seriously. As a parent, it feels really wonderful to have places where my daughter is welcome. We don't live in a very child-centered or parent-supported culture, so it's easy to feel like an inconvenience to others. I am grateful to have had this experience today.

My plan had been to make it through the sun salutations, and perhaps most of the standing postures, if things were going well with Zora. In the end, I made it all the way to supta kurmasana, before I knew it was time to start the closing (I did the short closing). I really can't believe I made it that far! Now, if I can only figure out how to get Nancy and Casie to our house every morning to adjust me and play with Zora--that would make for a really great home-practice!

The Stick Shows a Plus Sign!

On Thursday, April 17th, 2008, I peed on a stick, which brought us the news that our life was about to change--big time! I had been feeling tired and a bit queasy the week before, and my suspicions were confirmed--I was pregnant.

I immediately looked online to see if I could find any information on if/how I should adjust my yoga practice, now that I was pregnant. I found this article, which was pretty useful, and seemed to make sense. I also sent emails to Kiran and Nancy Gilgoff (Kiran's teacher, who Alex and I had practiced with a few times, and who I loved and trusted as much as Kiran) to see if there was information they had to add. There were positions that were to be altered so as not to put pressure on the uterus (Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana, Marichyasana B and D, and others...), as well as postures that would have to be avoided or altered as my mid-section would grow. I felt excited about the changes that were happening to my body and that would happen in my yoga practice, and empowered by the research I had done on how to practice safely during pregnancy. Then the real nausea and the extreme fatigue set in!

Anyone who is reading this is probably well aware that the term "morning sickness" is an unfortunate misnomer. I'm sure there are some lucky women who experience nausea just in the morning, but most pregnant women I've known, who have nausea, are pretty much sick 24-7! I would wake up in the morning and stand on my yoga mat and stare. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and nibble on saltines (I was lucky enough to be able to keep food down). After a few weeks of trying to practice, and not really being able to do it, I grew so frustrated that I decided to take a break.

Joanne Darby practicing 2 days before giving birth.
I stopped doing backbends early on in my pregnancy.

Physically, this was necessary, but emotionally, this was a really difficult decision to make. I had heard all about Joanne Darby and many other women who had practiced throughout their entire pregnancies. I would look at photos of Joanne, and I felt like a failure. It feels silly to be writing this now, but I really thought that somehow I was failing my child to not be practicing yoga while I was pregnant. Perhaps part of this was due to hormones, but I also wanted the pregnancy, and everything that was to follow, to go perfectly. Naïve much?

By the time I started up my practice again (8 weeks later), my body was completely different, and it was clear that it would be a long road back to my regular practice. Again with the naïveté--2.5 years later, and I'm still not back to where my practice was pre-pregnancy (let alone pre-Katrina). I have adjusted my definition of "regular practice", and I am thankful to have Ashtanga yoga in my life--no matter how much or how little. Aside from the fact that I had lost some strength over my yoga hiatus, my body had also become heavier and bulkier. I could no longer comfortably do a forward bend with my feet together, and twists felt like trying to wring water out of a sandbag. I tried to be thankful for any day that I was able to do any sort of yoga practice.

Me in Utthita Hasta Padangushthasana at ≈ 7 months

Bakasana

Trying to get into Eka Pada Shirshasana

I also started to do something quite out of my normal character--I started going to non-Ashtanga yoga classes. Part of it was to do yoga, but mostly I wanted to be around other pregnant women. Somewhere along the way we had decided to have our baby at home, and I also thought there might be some relaxation techniques to be learned in a prenatal yoga class. It was a really interesting and wonderful experience for me. I'm usually not open at all to non-Ashtanga classes (not because I think there's anything wrong with them, but because I am happy with the practice I have), but the energy in the room in that first class was amazing. I felt incredibly connected to the other moms-to-be, and to the fetus growing inside of me. During the last month of pregnancy I didn't do much of my Ashtanga practice, but I did continue with the prenatal yoga classes. In fact, the last one was on a Thursday, and our baby girl was born at home three days later. The birth was extraordinarily smooth and pretty quick (5.5 hours total)--but that's a story for another time.

Katrina Ate My Yoga Practice

At the time Katrina was nearing New Orleans, Alex was actually at a yoga workshop in Montreal with Darby. UNO had already started classes, so I was still in town. We didn't own a car, but a colleague of Alex's dropped his second car off at our house before he and his wife evacuated. I wasn't planning on evacuating, since I had done it before and found it to be hassle. To make a long story short, I ended up evacuating at the last minute, thanks to Kiran (she called me in the middle of the night insisting that I leave). This was a good plan, since we had about 7 feet of water in our neighborhood. I drove with our two cats, Zecky and Kaya, to my brother's place in Memphis. After several days of telling me that his flight back to New Orleans was delayed, Alex finally agreed that the flight was probably not going to happen, and he flew to Memphis. We call the next month of our life:

We stayed a little over a week at my brother's house, but needed to find somewhere more permanent to stay, since it looked like we wouldn't be able to go back home any time soon. We decided that we'd head up to Montreal and stay in Alex's grandmother's apartment (she was not there at the time) until we figured out what to do. We also needed to return the car to Alex's colleague, who was heading to Ann Arbor, Michigan, so, we drove north. Our next stop was my uncle's house in Illinois. We stayed there for a week, and while we were there, we received an email from the chair of the math department at UC Davis (where we both went to grad school), offering us (pity) positions for the year. We didn't know if our universities in New Orleans would be re-opening any time soon, so we decided to accept the positions. We still needed to return the car though, so we packed up and continued on to Ann Arbor. There we were lucky enough to be lodged by our good friend's mother (also a math nerd)!

Needless to say, all this traveling and stress made it difficult to focus on yoga. We were used to practicing at our shala in New Orleans, and it was hard to motivate ourselves for a home(less) practice. There was an Ashtanga shala in Ann Arbor, and we were very grateful to be able to practice in a group again--if only for a couple days.

From Ann Arbor, we left for California, where we stayed another week or so with my mom and step-dad in Sebastopol, before we could find an apartment in Davis. We were very aware of how fortunate we were--jobs, a home, each other, but it was also a really hard time. On the bright side, it was the easiest moving day we've ever experienced. We walked in the door of our new place with two suitcases and our two cat carriers, set them down and that was that! It had been a little over a month since I left New Orleans.

There was no Ashtanga shala in Davis, so thus began our home practice. We had a small linoleum area where the kitchen table would go (if we had one), and it was there that we would practice. For a good year after Katrina, I was pretty depressed, and this affected my practice greatly. On the other hand, my yoga practice helped with the depression.

After spending a year in Davis, it was time for us to find new jobs, and we did, in Seattle. We packed ourselves and the kitties up once again and made the move up north. There were a couple Ashtanga shalas in Seattle, but with my new job, and the need to commute by bus, I maintained my home practice. It had already been a year, and I had grown accustomed to practicing on my own (Alex often went to a yoga shala). I did try two of the shalas a couple times, but it was overwhelming and distracting with all the other bodies in the room. I also had some negative experiences with teachers, and I didn't feel in a place where I could put trust into someone new. Even though it is more difficult to motivate yourself for a home practice, I really did enjoy the quiet and the stillness.

Up next: The Stick Shows a Plus Sign!

How it all began (yoga-wise)

I started taking yoga classes about 16 years ago, when I was 18 (if you're interested in math, you can do a little to figure out how old I am). I have always had back issues and the classes I took would help with the pain. The style of yoga didn't matter much to me. In fact, I probably wasn't even aware that there were different styles, or traditions. As much as I loved the classes I took, I never really progressed in my practice. I'm not naturally flexible (couldn't even touch my toes!) or strong (aside from my right bicep, from working a year at Baskin-Robbins), and I didn't gain much flexibility or strength from practicing yoga. Enter New Orleans.

My partner, Alex, and I moved to New Orleans in 2003 for Alex's math post-doc at Tulane (yes, he's also a math nerd). I managed to get a lectureship at UNO, and to convince Alex to take a yoga class with me. We took one at the rec. center at Tulane, and it was ok. Sometime in the winter, we went to a math department party, and Alex was talking with a colleague who was practicing Ashtanga Yoga. We weren't familiar with it, and she compared it to Power Yoga, which completely turned me off.  I wasn't interested in an aerobics class trying to pass for a yoga class! Alex was interested though, so he decided to do the introductory class. He went once and enjoyed it, and asked me to join him the next time. His description of the class sounded ok to me, so I agreed. Enter Kiran.

I immediately fell in love with Kiran. Aside from being incredibly knowledgeable about yoga and Ashtanga in particular, she also knew the human body very well and knew when to push and when to back off. Ashtanga teachers tend to be pretty hands-on when it comes to adjustments--physically moving your body, rather than talking to you about where your body should be. Kiran had a really good sense of the energy running through the body as well, and for me, her adjustments were not just moving parts of my body, but moving energy too. I consider myself to be extremely fortunate to have had Kiran as my first Ashtanga teacher. She spoiled me for most other teachers, which made things difficult in the future, but I'm glad to have such standards. I think this has kept my body safe (for the most part) and it has kept my practice from turning into something that I didn't want it to be (competitive, analytical, purely physical, etc.).

So, back to the intro class: Kiran not only introduced us to the physical practice, but also presented the history of Ashtanga, as well as the other limbs (there are 8). The practice was intense, but she started us off gradually and I actually found myself becoming stronger and more limber than I had ever been. We began with the sun salutations (Surya Namaskara A & B), and then each Sunday Kiran would add new postures. Alex and I would also attend the evening mysore class a few times each week. By the end of the first month, we had the standing postures under our belts. At some point we switched to the morning classes (6am!) so that we could practice at the shala 6 days a week.

At this time, there was a little bit of fun competition between Alex and me, though it was never real because he is way stronger and way more flexible than me. My one claim to fame is my long, monkey arms, which allowed me to get into Marichyasana D the first time I tried it. Meanwhile, it took Alex a while for his hands to meet. We progressed through the Primary Series postures over the summer, and began the Intermediate Series in the fall. The furthest I've gone in the Intermediate Series is Supta Urdhva Pada Vajrasana, but Alex does the old Advanced A Series, which is mostly the new Advanced A Series, and some of new B.  So, here we were, happily trucking along with our Ashtanga practice, loving Kiran, the shala, our fellow practitioners and New Orleans. Enter Katrina.

Hurricane Katrina arrived, and threw the first big wrench into my practice--along with mucking up other things for us, the rest of New Orleans and much of the Gulf coast.

Up next: Katrina Ate My Yoga Practice
Also, I promise to get to mommying soon!

Why am I here?

There was torrential rain going on outside this morning during mysore class. The room has a large skylight, so we could hear the rain coming down--and it was loud! It brought me back to the last shala where I used to practice, in New Orleans. We would often have thunderstorms going on outside as we practiced, and I loved the way I felt part of the outdoors, even though I was inside. I started thinking about all that's happened in my life since my practice first started in New Orleans, and all that's happened in my practice. I know, this is not what you're supposed to be thinking about during practice, but that's just part of who I am now--thinking whenever I get the chance--which is not often! As I continued with the primary series postures, I decided that I wanted to start writing about my experiences, trying to revive and maintain a yoga practice, while being a full-time mama to a two-year-old. Hopefully somewhere along the way, someone will read these words and I will be able to connect with others out there in the yoga world and the parent world who have their own stories to share.

I'm going to start off by posting some of my yoga background, and then get into what my practice was like during pregnancy, after pregnancy, and beyond.

Disclaimer: I'd like to be very clear that I'm not an especially good writer (I'm a mathematician by trade), so if that's what you're looking for, you might be in the wrong place!