Tadasana

One of the places that makes me happiest is Kripalu in the Berkshires. I spent a blissful few days on a yoga retreat lead by the lovely Elena Brower called "The Art of Attention." You may remember that I blogged about the program I did last July with Elena at Kripalu, and how much the words "alchemy" and "alignment" were on my mind at that time. I hadn't gotten braces yet, but it was as though the universe was preparing me for what was to come simply by whispering those words in my ears everywhere I went. Back in July, these words were so tiny, so elementary, and as you now know, changed me on a fundamental level.

And just as I did in July, after this past weekend, I feel so different.

One of the most basic yoga poses is Tadasana, or Mountain Pose. Anyone can do Mountain Pose--yes even you! Just stand with your feet rooted to the ground and put your hands at your sides, stand tall and breathe. Breathe again. Breathe some more.

We stood in Mountain Pose and felt our breath, strong and clear, and I was aware of how strange it felt to take deep breaths, how liberating it was to be still and to feel the depth of my own chest, rooted within me like a tree's roots.

(It's funny, I keep attempting to write Mountain Pose and I keep mistyping it as Mountain Power. Talk about Freudian slips!)

We began to get into other poses which were more difficult and needed more and more effort to hold. Each time we were in those poses--Plank Pose, Triangle Pose, even headstands, Elena said, "Now, go into Tadasana, while in your headstand!" I swear, I could forget the struggle and strain of those more difficult poses and feel my body respond as though I was calmly standing tall, with my hands at my sides, feeling the depth of my own chest, rooted like a tree; the quality of my breath easy, unfettered and clear. She challenged us to "match the intensity of any boundary with your softness to create elegance," I did feel elegant, and what's even more amazing is that I continue to feel it, days later.

This concept of softening towards any boundary, by moving into Tadasana was so surprisingly accessible to me. In the past, I worried that all of the insight given to me in moments of vacation and retreat belonged to the place and not to me, and they would be lost the second I returned home. So the universe made sure that I knew how to keep it straight. Upon my return to NYC, it gave me a crisis at work. In fact a few. And a difficult co-worker to boot. I had a choice to match her intensity of negativity and blame, or I could meet her with my softness, and my Tadasana. And you know what? It TOTALLY worked. It wasn't even a struggle to keep my calm as it usually is, and I subconsciously invited my co-worker on to my mountain. She retracted that finger she was pointing at me, and began to laugh. I was pretty damn impressed.

I think there's a reason they call it Tadasana, because "Tada!" like magic, all the negativity disappears!

Elena introduced me to the idea of saying thank you to difficult situations and difficult people for they hold up a mirror to who we are, and who we want to be. It was possible for me to have such gratitude for my difficult coworker, because she showed me that I always have a choice. I can be what I have been in the past--swept away by the emotion and intensity of others and their dramas, or I can choose to be rooted in my own Tadasana and let the elegance of the mountain infuse me, calming not only me, but those around me.

More and more I realize how much I chose my bionic state. I could not admit that this was my choice a few months ago--I would have said it was a genetic fault, a neglectful dentist, capricious circumstance that did this to me, and all of that would have been true. But from another place, I realize that I chose this situation. I am learning now to stop battling against it, to say thank you, and be grateful for everything that it has made possible. I am still gazing in its mirror to see what else it has in store.

Elena shared this quote:

"What you still need to know is this: before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we've learned as we've moved toward that dream. That's the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, one 'dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon. Every search begins with beginner's luck. And every search ends with the victor's being severely tested."

--Paulo Coelho, from The Alchemist

I have another favorite quote from The Alchemist, which is, "Tell your heart that your fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself." I realize now that my feelings of smallness over the last few months have had less to do with actual suffering than my fear of some larger pain or rejection. Since this weekend, it seems as though I've taken the protective wrapper off of my heart and let it air out in the sunshine. I'm letting it speak first rather than my head. I am so grateful to all the things that made this happen--even the things that made me feel so yucky, so sad, and somewhat self destructive over the last seven months. Without choosing them, I would not be where I am now, cuddling my happiness project, and feeling the joy of simply breathing deeply.