Gratitude Admist Chaos

twcast.jpg

We’ve just finished move-in weekend
for the play I’m directing. Move in is horrendous. It involves
long, long days of actors waiting hours longer than I’d predicted
while lighting design people solve problems I don’t understand and
can’t begin to explain to cast and crew who would rather stick
forks in their eyes than have another half-hour delay. It involves
brief, sometimes angry directives to the impatient and the tardy.
(“Don’t bully me,” snapped an 80-year-old actor after I’d
suggested she get her rear end out of bed and over to the theatre
where we were waiting for her.) It involves regretting my angry
directives and throwing myself back into the day over and over with
patience and enthusiasm. It involves reworking facial scars that
don’t look right under stage lights, music and light cues to
program and reprogram, a labor scene in which half the audience can
see an actor’s crotch, and on and on. It involves eating more
sweet, puffy muffins in one day than is good for any human being.

It’s probably no different that what
many of you do at work every day.

Here’s what I’m grateful for: Hours
before this bedlam began, I was on my living room floor in
Savasana, thinking, “Thank you, thank you, for everything that happens
today.” No matter how chaotic the day becomes, I will be back on my
living room floor tomorrow morning, saying, “Thank you, thank you, for
all of this.”

It’s because of this, I think, that I
never feel lost in the chaos. The nuttiness feels temporary,
superficial, and less jarring than it used to. It is something I’m
doing, not something I am.

Has yoga given you this?

Thanks to yoga for telling me who I am
every day. Thanks to the beautiful cast and crew I have the honor to
work with, and thanks to you for the conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the
web,
on
Facebook,
on
Twitter,
and on
iTunes.

Posted in actors, patience, theater, Yoga | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on Gratitude Admist Chaos

Six Things I Know

YJ downward dogs.jpgThere are six things I know about myself this morning after yoga practice:

1. I’m OK skipping one day of
practice. My body is happiest when I don’t skip two days. It is
perhaps pathetic to begin this list by discussing the practice I
don’t do.

2. I breathe more easily after
practice. An hour later, my chest and back are still loose and
happy.

3. Revolved Side Angle Pose is a
bugger. It may be another year before I feel what I imagine we are
supposed to feel in that one. I think I said the same thing last
year.

4. Meditation is heaven. Many of you
write saying meditation is not a heavenly part of your practice.
You’re probably all having too good a time with Revolved Side Angle Pose to sink into meditation.

5. My lovely man and I wonder over
and over about how our lives and bodies would be completely
different if we had not rediscovered yoga. We have that chat almost
every time I watch him put a pair of pants on in the morning. He
used to look like an aging praying mantis getting dressed: rigid,
twiggy, in danger of snapping. Now he looks like a twelve-year-old
boy.

6. It is true that some part of me
looks forward to superyogi changes in my strength, flexibility, fat
content, and hair. (Many of the superstar yoginis have long,
absurdly luxurious hair. Does it not get in the way?) It is also
true that most days I am closer than ever to being content right
where I am. This observation is more shocking than it would be to
wake up with flexible shoulders, skinny legs, and long, glossy
ringlets.

That’s it for this morning. It
might be a completely different list tomorrow.

What do you know after practice?

Thanks to yoga for giving us good
things every day, and for never being over. Thanks to you for the
conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the 
web,
on 
Facebook,
on 
Twitter,
and on 
iTunes.

Posted in homepractice, revolvedsideanglepose, Yoga | Tagged | Comments Off on Six Things I Know

High-Tech Peace

yogacomputers.jpg

The iPhone might be the best thing that
has happened to my meditation practice over the last month.

For the most part, we live in a low-tech
house. The TV gets plugged in when we want to watch a movie. We don’t have cable and don’t get any channels. We don’t keep the radio on or listen to music. Why? Because the world
outside the house is loud and I love quiet.

What we do have is an absurd number of
computers. My lovely man has one laptop. I have three laptops (for
different kinds of work), one desktop, and the iPhone. This is as
ridiculous as it sounds, and I feel conflicted about it most days.

Not now.

I’ve just discovered guided
meditation apps on the iPhone.

For years, on and off, I’ve been a
Luddite meditator: sitting completely unplugged for varying lengths
of time, focusing on my breath. It’s been good.

About a month ago I felt the desire for
a meditation camp. I do these periodically. A retreat plunks the
meditation in your lap, gently or not so gently removing your
distractions for a few days.

This time there is no room on the
calendar for camp. I’m acting and directing for the next month,
meaning that both days and nights are booked.

Instead, I plug in to my phone every
morning for guided meditations that take me to camp for an hour or
so. Oh, happiness! Soft voices lead me by the hand and remind me over
and over to let go, with softer music in the background, or nature
sounds or silence if I prefer. Focused attention just got a lot
easier.

Will I go back to tech-less meditating?
Absolutely. Do I love it being easy right now? Absolutely.

Whatever tames the squirrelly mind and
brings me closer to capital-L-love has my gratitude today.

Have you tried guided meditations? Do
you love them or do they defeat the purpose for you?

Thanks to yoga for all its branches,
including meditation. Thanks for technology at the moment. And
thanks to you for the conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the 
web,
on 
Facebook,
on 
Twitter,
and on 
iTunes.

Posted in guidedmeditationdownload, onlinemeditation, techfree, Yoga | Comments Off on High-Tech Peace

Homing Instinct

woodstove.jpg

Here’s a confession: for the last six
months, 98 percent of my practice has been at home. For some reason I feel
guilty about this. Why? Perhaps because so many of you are
teachers. Perhaps because I love my own teachers and every class
I’ve ever had. Perhaps because I value learning.

I don’t know what’s happening.

Every morning at 3 or 4am, I wake up
and want to practice. That’s what I do. Then my day goes on, and
another week goes by with no class.

It began around the time of some huge
life changes in the fall: the end of a career, a health tilt-a-whirl
for my partner, a decision to move. I began to crave a grounding that
feels more effective at home than in a group.

There is a freedom at home to explore whatever area of resistance that presents itself that morning. My right hip, shoulders, neck. It feels like the best kind of
self-care to follow my body’s requests at my body’s pace.

The silence is heaven. Pajamas are
the epitome of comfort. The fire is gorgeous. Practice is as short or long as I choose. I suspect there is something healthy in becoming my own teacher.

In no way am I building a case for home
practice over classes. I’m sure I’m missing all kinds
of new input and all kinds of the specific and gentle guidance that I loved about class.

Home alone just happens to be the
point I’m at on my yoga path.

Have you been there? Have you gone
great chunks of time practicing at home? Did you miss class after a
while? I’d love to hear.

Thanks to yoga for being so social and
so solitary. Thanks for the mystery of all of this. And thanks to
you for the conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the 
web,
on 
Facebook,
on 
Twitter,
and on 
iTunes.

Posted in Yoga | Comments Off on Homing Instinct

Which Yoga Camp Would You Attend?

yogacamp.jpg

My sister called the other day and said
we should plan a yoga trip together. We whooped and laughed about how
fantastic an idea that is until I asked my first question.

“What kind of yoga camp would shall
we go to?” I said.

“What do you mean?” she answered.
“Ashtanga, you nut.”

Then the idea fell apart. We both do and love Ashtanga yoga. But she’s a hard core Mysore woman. I’m not-so-hard-core.

Her dream holiday would be more Ashtanga.
What else?

 I want chanting and Bhakti yoga, the yoga of love, and
Kundalini yoga, and … I don’t know what else, but I want something
else. Something new and wild and crazier than what I do
every single morning.

“I like the discipline,” Tory says.
“I want more of that.”

Well. We’ll go another year, then,
when either Tory goes wild or I go back to craving more discipline,
both of which are very possible.

And you? If you could do any yoga camp
next week, let’s say seven days of your own choosing, what would
you pick? (The winner of this contest will be allowed to continue
dreaming. So will all the non-winners.)

Thanks to yoga for being so incredibly
diverse and for giving us whatever we desire. Thanks to you for the
conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the 
web,
on 
Facebook,
on 
Twitter,
and on 
iTunes.

Posted in ashtanga, bhaktiyoga, kundalini, Yoga, yogatrip | Comments Off on Which Yoga Camp Would You Attend?

Yoga Home

yoga_moving.jpg

We just finished moving, and hope not
to do it again for about 400 years. Everything about it is
disorienting.

Three weeks before the move, I’d
already lost books, clothes, and files I still needed every day.
They were lost a sea of enormous, overstuffed boxes and in the trunk
of my car. The trunk of my car was designated for “very important
stuff,” which ended up ranging from tax information to lemon
zesters, a Christmas wreath, and shoes I haven’t worn for three years. We
vowed to plan more precisely moving forward.

All precision-planning hell broke
loose during the week of the move. Many, many meals consisted of
fingers dipped in jars of peanut butter and hummus. Everything else was in boxes. I knew we’d survive this move the night we had two
kinds of hummus and find some crackers to go with it at the new
house. We had no utensils and no plates, but felt super-confidently
competent. I feel we could organize a G8 summit now.

During the first night at the new
house we wander around like newcomers to a dementia ward, staring at
blank walls and forgetting where the bathroom is.

We’re exhausted and not
particularly happy. But before we can crash for the night on our
mattress on the floor, I soak a dishcloth in warm water in the
kitchen sink (can’t find a bucket, can’t find a mop, can’t find
soap), and begin wiping the living room floor. It takes forever after a full day of wet, muddy boots dragging loads of furniture in.

I want a clean floor.

I do this because tomorrow morning, first morning
in this house, I want yoga. I want Downward Dog, I want forward
folds, I want Saddle, I want Boat, I want Bridge, I want Savasana. I could scream, I want it so badly. I want
home.

In the morning, in the dark, I bang
into one wall looking for my socks and T-shirt. Another bang into another
wall where our bathroom door used to be.

Several bangs later, I’m on that
clean floor, hands to heart, breathing an Om out to this new home.

Thanks, thanks, to yoga for curing
homesickness. Thanks to my lovely man for enduring the move with me.
Thanks to you for the conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the 
web,
on 
Facebook,
on 
Twitter,
and on 
iTunes.

Posted in bridgepose, downwarddog, moving, newhome, savasana, Yoga | Comments Off on Yoga Home

Ode to a Pose


HP_202_Vasisthasana_248.jpgIt’s about time somebody wrote an ode
to Side Plank.

Whenever I ask for favorite poses and
least favorite poses, Side Plank (Vasisthasana) crowds the second list. It seems
you don’t love it.

I do. Here’s why:

1. It takes just the right amount of
strength (not too much, not too little. A Goldilocks thing).

2. It also requires Goldilocks balance.
When distracted or tired, I flutter around like laundry in
a big wind. On ridiculously unfocused days, I fall over before I get a chance to flutter.

3. My body sings to me in Side Plank. When that happens, I feel like a goddess. A flying goddess.

4. Whenever I begin thinking I’m
amazing, I attempt to raise that top leg. My left leg is
good for six inches and three to four seconds. My right leg doesn’t
budge at all. She’s not a team player.

At this moment, Side Plank is the one
that deserves an aria. If I were a mezzo-soprano, I would suggest a
sing-along.

I’ll bet you’d love to write your
own Ode to a Pose. Which one would it be?

Thanks to yoga for being a thousand
songs. Thanks to you for the conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the 
web,
on 
Facebook,
on 
Twitter,
and on 
iTunes.

Posted in sideplank, vasisthasana, Yoga | Comments Off on Ode to a Pose

Everything I Need to Know I Learn from Theatre

We’re in the middle of rehearsals for a play called “Talking With…” I wish you could be here with us, because the learning is fantastic. Here are today’s “lessons to self”.  (One of the  beautiful things about theatre is that it is not prescriptive.  I learn whatever i’m ready to learn today. You may learn something completely different.)

1. Truth is gorgeous. Trust that your truth is enough. Stop faking anything in the hopes that it’ll make you more substantial, more interesting, more charming, more successful. It doesn’t work.

2. Sometimes it takes horrible courage to give yourself to an audience or anyone else. Be bwave.

3. Stay open, no matter how tempted you are to close the windows, the doors, the gates, and the drawbridges.

4. Every single trait in every single human is inside you somewhere. Resisting that is a waste of your beautiful energy.

5. Joy comes from committing to your choices, not from endlessly assessing the merit of those choices with your squirrelly mind, which will never be satisfied and which doesn’t know the first thing about joy.

6. Your instincts are gold.

7. Not knowing is all right. Often preferable.

8. You’ll be an idiot to yourself and others some days. Practice instant forgiveness.

9. We are extremely fortunate to be able to play with others. Many thanks for that.

10. Cats and snakes are better actors than we are, given their inability to be anything but truthful. Don’t be discouraged by this.  Don’t be discouraged for long about anything.

Thanks for the conversation,

kristin

Posted in blog | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Beginner’s Mind

hanging cat.jpg

It might be that a blog called
Beginner’s Mind is the best thing that ever happened to my yoga
practice.

When I began writing this a year ago,
the wonderful people at Yoga Journal gave me this title. I’d been
back in full-on practice for seven months at that point, and thought
it’d be a great idea to have someone writing from the back of the
class. True, I’d done sessions of classes on and off over decades,
but I was a beginner.

Nothing has changed that. I keep
waiting to grow out of it. It doesn’t happen.

I adore being a beginner. Here are a
few benefits:

1. There is enormous freedom in not
knowing, and not having to know. One of our favorite expressions at
home is, “If we don’t know yet, then we don’t need to know
yet.” Every morning I begin practice truly not knowing what will
happen, what my mind and body will do with this first pose, even why
I’m really here on the mat. This amounts to committing myself to a
sense of wonder, which feels healthy and good. I think it’s
beginning to spread into the rest of my day. Thanks, thanks for
that.

2. Being a beginner means that I am
happily the student of each yogi and yogini who writes in response
to these posts, both at YJ.com and on Facebook. That has been completely
humbling and almost always joyous.

3. The energy associated with “you
should …” is a drag: rigid, limiting, heavy, and sour. As long as
I remain a beginner, I hope not to wag an I-know-better finger
in anyone’s face. (This applies to my kids, my lovely man, and my
friends. Your path is your path.) If you hear “you should” come
out of my mouth, please, PLEASE, give me a raised-leg balance-pose
kick to the head.

4. I still practice in my clown-stripe
pajamas. I’ve given up thinking I’ll graduate to something
fancier in the mornings. Beginner’s comfort.

5. Competition and perfectionism have
been big parts of my life. If I ever become anything but a beginner,
I suspect those traits will do their best to crash my yoga party,
which is happy, forgiving, and peaceful party most mornings.

Are you a beginner, or have you
peacefully moved on to something other than beginner?

Thanks to yoga for keeping me in
kindergarten. I like it here. Thanks to Grace Smith’s boyfriend, who took the picture of the cat. And thanks to you for the
conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the
web,
on
Facebook,
on
Twitter,
and on
iTunes.

Posted in beginnersmind, homepractice, Yoga, yogi, yogini | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Beginner’s Mind

Stalking the Elusive Bandhas

Gabriella's bum.jpgI’m supposed to have my mula bandha “locked” throughout my ashtanga practice. I hear that it’s the key to great yoga; that mula bandha is the doorway to flexibility,
concentration, body heat, core strength, to stopping my wayward prana
from dissipating into the universe, and to untold sexual happiness.

Who doesn’t want all that?

In a recent class, a bandha-obsessed
teacher reminded us that every pose should be supported by the
internal strength of the bandha locks.

OK, OK, I thought. I want it.

In my morning practice, I’m now
contracting every bit of genitourinary and anal territory I can. It
takes some focus.

Some day, I’m sure, I’ll be able to
sustain that contraction throughout one (yes one) Sun Salutation.
It’s just as well that I’m not there yet, because I can’t
actually breathe in and out while I’m doing the bandha thing. I
don’t know how many Sun Salutations I could get through without
air.

When I add the second bandha (Uddiyana
bandha, or Abdominal Lock), I chest breathe like I’m running from a crime scene with a bag of cash stuffed inside my shirt
.

It was with huge relief when I read an
article this morning that said we shouldn’t be too upset if you struggle with it for the first four or
five years. Well, I’m struggling.

What about you? Do you get
it?

Thanks to yoga for taking us to
netherland. Thanks to my niece Gabriella for the bandha shot. Thanks to you for the conversation,

kristin

Dr.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All
Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on the
web,
on
Facebook,
and on
Twitter,
and on
iTunes.

Posted in ashtangayoga, mulabandha, sunsalutations, Yoga | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Stalking the Elusive Bandhas