Reflections on My Yoga Learnings

One thing I learned from my 200-hour yoga teacher training course is that the way an instructor understands and internalizes yoga is the way the instructor should teach yoga. Aside from an exception here-and-there (Bikram yoga comes to mind), there is no formula for how yoga should be taught. As students learning to teach yoga, we should therefore embrace what makes sense and feels right to us and leave the rest behind. I was exposed to a broad array of yogic knowledge in my month-long class. A lot of that knowledge I will take with me; some I will leave behind.

Tara diagrams how the mounds of the feet keep
us grounded while the arches of the feet lift us up.
[Photo: Katerina Zavarygina]

There are a few reasons I decided to do my teacher training in India. For one, India is well-regarded as the birthplace of yoga. The history of yoga in the United States, as is true for most things in the country, is relatively young. Plus, the yoga of the western world has been heavily modified to conform with western mentalities. I wanted to study yoga closer to its source, to better understand the essence of yoga.

A Year of Self-Love

We spend the majority of our childhood years in school. We learn about math, science, english, and history. Rarely does the curriculum include the skills necessary to function successfully in society and live fulfilling lives -- how to handle finances, how to have healthy relationships, how to communicate effectively, how to manage emotions, how to cope with failure. Most of us spend the majority of our adulthood acquiring these skills. Often we attain these skills by trial-and-error. Rarely do we master them.

I enjoyed school. I was fortunate to develop behaviors that helped me do well, such as typing my papers on a word processor and saying "yes" to opportunities that came my way. While these behaviors helped me ace my classes, they paved the way for the development of unhealthy habits later in life -- perfectionism and people-pleasing, to name a few. Eventually these habits, coupled with relentless societal stresses, became toxic.

I think often about my life story. I wonder how it might be different had I learned about self-love alongside my calculus and physics classes. I would have learned about identifying my personal values and setting priorities aligned with those values. I would have learned about focusing on the things that are important to me and letting other things go. I would have learned about self-awareness and being true to myself in my interactions with others. I would have learned about listening to my body.

What I've learned about self-love has mostly been acquired in the last few years. As I've been working to shake my bad habits, I've been realizing just how much I beat myself up all those years. I want to heal what those years of stress have done to my body. I know I can't unravel the damage that has been done, but I can decide to live my life differently moving forward.

Boxes & Boundaries

Boxes and boundaries. We've all got 'em.

Our boxes contain our current capabilities, comfort zones, thoughts, and beliefs. As it is often just outside of our boxes that we grow physically, mentally, and spiritually, we are encouraged to "think outside of the box," "push beyond our comfort zones," or as my yoga teacher says, "play the edge."

Our boundaries, on the other hand, are limits we set for ourselves. They are established as a means of self-protection and should be reverently respected.

Boxes & boundaries.

I've spent a lot of my time focusing on my boxes -- growing them, and, in turn, growing me. It's only in the last few years I've turned my attention towards my boundaries.

On Quitting Versus Adjusting Sails

I was called a quitter for bowing out early on my Baja trip. (As you may recall, from Reflections on My Baja Trip, I left Baja a month early, after having pedaled only 600 of the route's 1700 miles.) I felt ashamed for quitting, for not sticking with the ride. After all, I had invested quite a bit of time and energy planning the trip. Plus, I had spent a good chunk of change outfitting myself with the appropriate bike and gear. Fortunately, the feelings of guilt lasted only a few short seconds.

I hadn't quit; I had adjusted my sails.

Sailing with Jake on Bonne Vie in March 2014.

The word "quitting" carries with it a deeply negative connotation. A quitter gives up easily because he or she doesn't have the strength, courage, or determination to keep pushing on and seeing a task through to completion.

Ingredients for a Tenday

Recently, I've been noticing myself thinking: "Today is a tenday."

"What is a tenday?," you ask.

Well, for starters, I should clarify that the term is my own device. I never intended to create the word; I just started using it.

Now, imagine a scale that ranges from 1 to 10. At the far left of the scale is the 1, which represents "not-so-hot." At the far right of the scale is the 10, which represents "flippin' fantastic." Given that scale, a "tenday" is used to describe a day that is a 10.

"Today is a tenday."
Coming across the words of Mary Oliver, chalked on the front steps of a home.

For the record, I experience sevendays. And fivedays. And occasionally, though rare, onedays as well. After all, it's very much part of the human experience to have ups and downs in life.

The Blonde Builds a Wheel

I had a "blonde moment." Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe. But it happened.

Let me back-up a bit, so as to provide context... A few years ago, I wore through my first bike part. It was a chain. I had no idea you could wear through bike parts. After all, bike parts are made of metal! They are strong! They will last forever! My bad; I was wrong. Metal eventually breaks down. Especially after miles of Sarah-abuse.

Over the last few years, as I've added more-and-more miles to my bike, I've worn through more-and-more bike parts. Case in point: the rim on my back wheel is starting to dish, fairly significantly. Rather than suffer a blow-out, I wanted to replace the rim. Entirely focused on replacing the rim, I recently placed an order for a new rim. This was, unbeknownst-to-me-at-the-time, a blonde moment.

This is what a rim looks like...

I didn't realize my blonde-ism until earlier today, when I went to pick up the rim. My plan was to pick up the rim, quickly swap over the cassette from the old wheel to the new, and then throw the new wheel on my bicycle. Ta da! I'd be able to cross "replace rim" off my to-do list.