Just Shut Up, Please!

For someone whose training with my Master in India involves the golden rule of "strictly no talking once you step into the shala", I have since been brainwashed to adhere to a silent, meditative state the moment I step into a yoga studio for practice.

Most studios have their list of pre-class do's and don't's.... switch off your cell-phones, arrive to a class on time, appropriate clothing for practice, and all that jazz.

Everyone's got their own pre-class habits. Some like to arrive early to book their favourite spot (plus several spots for their friends), some take advantage of a quick Savasana, the bendy-wendies can be seen stretching out their hamstrings, while others sit with their eyes shut in a meditative state. Then there are the odd few who dash in just as the class is about to start, make a huge show of (loudly) rolling out their yoga mats, and stomping over yours to get to the shelf of yoga props.

Here I was, attending classes whilst on holiday recently, lying on my back in Supta Baddha Konasana, when a group of 4 entered the yoga studio, dressed from head to toe (bags, mats and water bottles included) in one of my favourite brands of yoga attire. A gust of wind swept over my face as they flopped their mats down loudly behind me. And that's when the loud chatter started.

Ignoring the rest of the practitioners who were doing some kind of quiet internalising, it was apparent they worked for the company who's logo was embossed on their outfits and were here to train the local retail staff. We were predisposed to 'how many LIKES' their Facebook page had over the past 2 months in spite of the Christmas holidays, how to give a standard reply to emails complaining about how their bright colors bleed, why Emma came in to work puffy eyed last Wednesday, and blah blah blah (Emma's boyfriend dumped her for her colleague Lynn, in case you're wondering!)

I sighed.... loudly... trying to give them a hint.  Nothing happened. In fact, we now know where they'll be going for breakfast after class.

I sat up, crossed my legs in lotus.... hoping that this would be a stronger hint (whilst praying for compassion).

Still, nothing happened. Feeling slightly heated up (and not from my Ujjayi breathing), I then secretly haboured the (insane) desire of reaching for the heavy, brass Lord Ganesha statue in the corner and hurling it in their direction! After all, isn't Lord Ganesha the remover of all obstacles???

Jai Ganesha, remover of obstacles

I'm not trying to be a prude or super judgemental, but there seems to be no sense of yoga etiquette here. It's downright embarrassing when you're the only ones talking and the inappropriate chatter ceases only when the teacher asks everyone to come into a silent meditative state (read : "tells you off").

Wouldn't some of the awareness that we all practice on the mat, rub off into real life? (hang on... you're still ON the mat)! Certainly it's not too much to ask of you to whisper, or talk in softer tones, just out of respect for those around you who aren't in the mood to socialize.  

We don't need to hear you air your dirty laundry. 
So-please-shut-up-OM-thank-you-and-Namaste!

(Note to Self : Don't let anyone steal your peace. Yoga pushes our Yama and Niyama buttons all the time. C'est La Vie).

Stranger in a Familiar Land

Almost each year, I'd find myself traveling (alone) back to Australia. I'd spend a couple of weeks surfing the couch in my bestie's living room, get up at the crack of dawn and catch the early tram to the yoga studio, where I'd spend the next 90 mins flowing in a morning practice. In the evenings, I'd meet up with my bestie for an evening class, eventually catching up over a sattvic dinner, and lots of giggles as our inner child come out to play. 

A beautiful summer's day
in Down Under

There is just something unexplainably therapeutic in the freedom to go about the day alone and yet not be enveloped by a sense of loneliness. An essence of magic, mystery and peace is generously sprinkled when spending the New Year being a stranger in a familiar land.

As I trek uphill to head home after a morning's Vinyasa practice, I conclude that this isn't a vacation. It is "Sadhana" (in Sanskrit, "sadhana" means "a spiritual practice exercised toward the achievement of a purpose"). It is my journey into Svadhyaya, an opportunity to self-reflect on my actions, in hope that they will become a mirror to learn to look at myself more deeply. In retrospect, my mind ceased to think and plan, and I found this non-agenda-like state refreshing as I got nurtured mentally, soulfully and spiritually. By simply being non-attached to any particular style or level of yoga practice, even the simplest of practice was profoundly deep.

The sacred practice space where I spent most
of my mornings and evenings

Yoga is such a personal journey... a practice where the initial outward progress merely masks the subtle inward growth that eventually sneaks up on us. With all sincere efforts to guide each practitioner that come onto the mat, I realize that they too have their own intentions of doing so. Even when I give my all to help nurture their yoga practice, perhaps it is me who needs (further) nurturing as it becomes evident that all they ever wanted was to stretch, tone, sweat and (hopefully) lose a few pounds along the way.

Life is too precious to mull over the what-could-have-beens. 2013 is the year where I move from energies that are not aligned. It is time to live my life's mantra to the fullest. It is time to get sexy back! (I just couldn't resist that last one).

Words to live by

Two weeks of silence, space and solitude... to flow with the Universe... to reignite my tapas and to be re-inspired to inspire. I am internally grateful to the many teachers who have taught me that life indeed begins at the end of your comfort zone.

For without you, I would have never gotten from here...

Adho Mukha Vrksasana
(Handstand - 'Urbanscapes', Australia)

... to here.

Adho Mukha Vrksasana
(Handstand - 'Urbanscapes', Australia)

"Progress lies not in enhancing what is, but in advancing toward what will be" - Khalil Gibran.

Namaste, love, light and eternal blessings.