Flight Plans

HPIM1070.JPG

It’s back-to-school time. The leaves are turning, and the geese are gathering on the beach to discuss flight plans for the fall.  
I saw my son off this morning. At 21 years old, he’s off to Montreal to theatre school, and he has never been happier. But here I am, like I was when he was 4, trying not to cry when I wrap my arms around him at the front door.  
Autumn. It’s such a time for endings and beginnings. Bare feet gone soon. Sun sinking earlier and earlier. Crisp mornings. 
But, oh, back to school is such a time of excitement, too! Twenty years out of school and I still ache to buy pens, fresh paper, and new shoes in the fall. I ache for new adventures.
Do you ache for that? I wonder, sometimes, whether adults stop listening to the urge to take flight, whether we dig our feet into the day to day bog of our lives and don’t feel our own wings itching.
During my practice today, I focused on doing exactly what I felt called to do by my body and heart, rather than hanging on to yesterday’s wonderful practice (don’t leave, don’t leave!) or just falling into habitual, stubborn stupor (downward dog #4, downward dog #5, blah, blah). It felt strange and a bit untethered, but I loved it.

As fall approaches, I want to listen for the call to new adventure. Yin yoga is calling. So is Anusara yoga, thanks in part to many of your e-mails. In the rest of my life, the call is so loud this year that I’m changing careers and homes. 

Ooooooh, the thrill is better than new shoes, better than pen and paper, better than the first day of grade 9.
Do you feel an urge to fly this time of year? A call to adventure? In yoga? In life? I’d love to hear.
Thanks to Adrian, my son, for following his own call. Thanks to yoga for providing a thousand new adventures. And thanks to you, always, for the conversation.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (about all things wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd or on Twitter at kristinwonders. 

Posted in Yoga | Comments Off on Flight Plans

A Beginner’s Love Letter To Yoga

love letter.JPG
If I were to write a love letter to yoga today, it would go like this:
Dear Yoga,

I know, I know, we were just on the mat together, but there’s something I’d like to say before we meet again tomorrow.
We live in a world that loves to tell me what to do with my body. From parents to teachers to government to doctors and dentists and personal trainers to television to the backs of cereal boxes, for Pete’s sake.

Every day, someone tells me what and what not to eat (yes to quinoa, no to ice cream – thanks for that), when and when not to eat (every two hours, only when I’m hungry), what numbers I have to know (cholesterol, blood pressure, BMI), what behavior is acceptable (don’t sing on the subway), what I must buy to be attractive (that is so last year), what hours I must work to prove my worth (lots and lots), what performance I’ve got to give every day to be worthwhile to someone else (always on, always 100%).

None of this feels like me.

So, yoga, thanks for encouraging me to show up when it feels right, to do what feels wonderful and within my chosen limits (my choice!), to challenge myself when I care to, and to rest in Child’s Pose whenever I want. Thanks for encouraging and not demanding. Thanks for the joy you give back, whether I’m with you for five minutes or an hour and a half.

I love the way you make me laugh more easily, like myself more with every pose, and remind me with every practice of the beautiful, glowing-faced wonder I am.

Thanks for the way you make me feel like I just swallowed sunlight. I hope we’re together for as long as that sun shines,
Kristin
(Thanks to yoga for all of this, and thank you for the conversation, as always. I’ll bet you’d write a great love letter yourself.)
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (about All Things Wonderful) from North Bay, Ontario. Join her on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd or on Twitter at kristinwonders.

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on A Beginner’s Love Letter To Yoga

Yoga Trolls

troll.JPG
The other day, my sister’s friend invited her to a different yoga studio for a class.

“I can’t do it”, said my sister. “I’d love to, but I’m not good enough. I suck.”

Fear shows up in funny ways. Tory pictures an entire class pointing at her and sneering.
This made me laugh for about four seconds. Then I realized that whenever a new challenge comes my way – going back to class after weeks away, trying a new kind of yoga, going to a different studio – my immediate, insane response is, “I can’t, I’m too fat.”
This is obviously absurd. There is no sign posted anywhere in yoga that says Stay Out If You Think You Are Pudgy.  Nor have I met a yoga mat that hasn’t welcomed my solid thighs. (Oh my god, the mats are too small for my lardy bum! I’ll have to put four of them together!)  Nor, come to think of it, have I ever encountered a yoga teacher who raises one eyebrow and says, “Oh, you think so, do you? If you were enlightened enough to be in my class, you’d be thin.  Now stop crying. You can come to my Class For The Fat and Unenlightened.”
Absurd, excessive, twisted, completely un-constructive, I know. But these are the trolls that leap up from under my bridge when I’m facing something new and scary. Or old and scary for that matter.
I like stating my fear out loud. It looks more ridiculous than ever that way. Gives it a loving kick in the head.
I suck. I’m too this, too that. Do you have a fear that yoga brings to light? Would you like to kick it in the head?
Thanks to yoga for showing me where and how I’d like to be more fearless, and thanks to you for the conversation.
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (about All Things Wonderful) from North Bay, Ontario.  Join her on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd or on Twitter at kristinwonders.

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Yoga Trolls

Inner Teachers

henna head 2.JPG
One of you wrote a kind note to me recently in which you encouraged me to discover my “inner teacher” during my home practice. This might involve veering off the straight path I’d been on. What a beautiful idea!

Originally, my home practice was basically whatever I remembered from class, in much the same order we do our asanas in class. Not much imagination involved.

All hell has broken loose, since. This morning I thought, I’ve got to reign this in a bit or I’ll never be able to go back to class. Today’s practice looked like this:

I’m in flannel pajamas, which are far more comfortable than my yoga clothes. I sing show tunes during my Sun Salutations. My secret desire (not so secret now, I guess) is to star in Big! Musicals! I picture some Famous! Broadway! Producer! driving down my very quiet street in Northern Ontario and hearing my voice Soaring! out the front windows, singing, Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better, from Annie Get Your Gun. It’s a tough fantasy to maintain given that I am terrified to sing in front of anyone but my dog. I maintain it nonetheless.

I put henna in my hair today for the first time. It’s mucky, it stinks, and the instructions say keep it on for hours, so I do my entire practice with a goopy head.

Toward the end of today’s practice, which includes some completely invented dance moves (in case that Producer needs a Dancer!, not just a Fabulous! Singer!), I find myself saying, “Oh, yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah”, with each forward bend and each spinal twist.  How did my practice become so loud?

Savasana, at the end of all this, is a quiet relief.

Is this my inner teacher at work? I don’t know. I understand that there is no mention of show tunes in The Upanishads, but something in my practice feels freer and more creative these days. Lighter.

Do you have inner teachers?  Are they serious? Funny? Creative? Are they dancers? Singers? (Do you want to do a musical together?)

Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Inner Teachers

Which Part of Me Is Leaping?

There’s this question that nags when I contemplate big changes.  By big i mean changing professions, life partners, countries to live in – the changes that affect me and everyone around me for a good long time.

The question that nags is: am i doing this because it is exactly what my heart wants most, or am i changing my outside world because i can’t find internal peace and satisfaction. Yikes.

I’d love to recommend a book by Michael A. Singer entitled The Untethered Soul: a journey beyond yourself.

In the book, Singer beautifully describes the brain battle that goes on in our heads day in and day out.  I should leave my job.  No i shouldn’t. But i want to. But it’s stable. But it’s boring. But it pays well.  What will Bob think?  God, i’m a flake.  But i’m happy overall.  Blah, blah, to blahfinity.

He suggests we personify this head noise as a roommate, in which case we’d kick that nut out within about two hours of listening to her insane, repetitive monologue.  That insane roommate is our mind.

He also suggests a simple, practical way to dissociate from that roommate and find the quiet, simple, loving centre of ourselves.

Every time your mind says, god, i don’t know if i can do it, i don’t think he’s the one for me, etc., your heart shuts down.  You can feel this.  It’s a tight-chest-and-jaw, fatiguing thing.  As soon as you feel that, leave your mind to duke it out. Don’t stop it (you can’t stop it), just leave it.

Take your energy to your centre – your heart, the observer, the witness of the battle.  Again, you can feel this.  You can breathe. Your heart, chest, and face are relaxed and open.  This removal of your energy from the mind shortens the battle by turning its power off.  It leaves you with a blissfully quiet head.  Do this a thousand times a day.

Finding the centre is the key.

If you have a method of finding that centre already – meditation, prayer, a cabin in the woods, a Buddha in your bathroom – go there.

If you don’t, and you’re looking for a method, consider the book.

Either way, don’t go to the insane roommate for advice on whether to leap. You won’t get a word in edgewise and you won’t come away any clearer.

Go to your heart.

Let me know what you think.

Thank you for the conversation,

kristin

Posted in blog | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

The Game

game.JPG
We’ve been playing a game  all week. Maybe you’d like to play with us.

If you were stranded on a deserted island-it’s a beautiful island, great weather, great food somehow, great books, just no other people-and you could only do one yoga pose for the entire month, what would it be?

After much hand wringing and general hoopla, we’ve decided that Savasana is a freebie. You can do all the Savasana you want. And one other pose.

Another thing. In this game, you’ll be completely healthy at the end of the month. Flexible, strong, peaceful, and beautiful. So the pose you pick is just about the happiness it’ll give you, not about, “oh, god, if I don’t do the shoulder openers, I’ll look like Hulk Hogan by Friday” (no offense to Hulk).

Here’s what we’ve got so far:
My sister picks Upward Dog, because it looks so beautiful.
My lovely man says The Plow. He’s just gone back to it in class and it’s exciting to be able to do it for the first time in decades.
My friend Paul chooses Triangle Pose. I think he’s crazy, but free choice is a part of the game. (He did ask if we were allowed to come out of the pose at all, or whether we have to hold the pose for an entire month. The answer, with rolling eyes, is yes, you can come out of the pose.)
I will do Downward Dog. I love everything about it: the inversion, the use of my entire body, easily a month’s worth of interest.
And if we play again next month, I’ll pick handstand, because it makes me feel like a goddess.

And you? What pose? Why?

Hoho! I can hardly wait to hear.

Thanks to yoga for being so interesting, and so much fun, and thanks to you for the conversation.

Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  These games thrill her inordinately.  Join her on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd, on Twitter at kristinwonders, or at kristinshepherd.ca

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on The Game

Teaching!

15354_03.jpg

Uh oh. Who would have guessed that 10 months into my yoga life, I’d lead a class?

Well, a small class. Three of us and a dog named Emma. At a cottage. I may not know what I’m doing when it comes to yoga, but neither did they, and we all felt certain we’d come to no harm. So we gathered on a deck looking over Big Marten Lake on a gloriously blue Saturday morning.

We started with a few Sun Salutations, followed by variations on Sun Salutations. We flowed gently from posture to posture, plank to Chattarunga to upward dog to downward dog. I gave them every tip I could remember (shoulder blades down, inner thighs rotating backward, rooting through hands and feet) and made up several extra.

More than once, Jenni said, don’t you mean my left leg forward? And isn’t it the right foot pivoting this time? (I am far more dyslexic than I imagined.) We moved onto slower poses, a ridiculous rendition of yin yoga – ridiculous given that I have not once attended a yin class.  I watch my lovely man do his poses at home and thought they’d be fun to try with my friends.
Class was a rousing success.

Until day two. During our Sun Salutations, neither Sue nor Jenni can move gently from plank to chattarunga. Not even the first time. Sue says, I don’t remember doing this yesterday. We did, I tell her. We did exactly the same thing.

“It didn’t hurt like this,” Jenni says.
“Hurt like what?” I ask.
“Like hell,” she says, “pointing to her chest and arms.  It hurts like absolute hell.”
“It’ll get better,” I tell them, hoping it’s true.

And through every Sun Salutation (and we only do five), they collapse like big bags of potatoes from plank to Chattarunga. Smack. Slam. Thud. Thwack. Bang. Crash. The new sounds of yoga. We laughed so hard I thought I’d blow a bhanda.

Great lessons from chattathwack yoga:

1.  Yeah for the shoulder and arm strength that comes with practice!!!!
2.  I adore sharing yoga. My only goal in leading the class was for them to want to do it again the following day. They did. Sort of.
3.  Yeah for real teachers, who know right from left, how to start slowly, and how to let us laugh.

Have you taught, those of you who aren’t teachers yet?  I’d love to hear about it.

Thanks to yoga, for fun on vacation, and thanks to you for the conversation.

Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

My Own Branches

I know there are branches of yoga. I know most of us are focused on the physical branch. Some multi-branched yogis don’t love our primary focus on the physical. I think it’s all right. Here’s why:

I began with Hatha yoga. But it doesn’t take long before I realize, without any teaching, that yoga has at least a second branch for me.

Let’s call my two branches outside yoga and inside yoga. The physical is outside. I love its strength and flexibility, its warmth, love the physical buzzy calm after my practice.

At some point on the trip, outside yoga introduced me to inside yoga, a kind of calm, accepting, eyeball-dissolving something, so often accompanied by huge sighs the end of class. And just as the physical branch teaches itself to me, class by class, the inside branch works its way through me, too, telling me a thing or two or twenty that I didn’t see at first.

Like the fact that I don’t feel inner peace after every class. In fact sometimes I’m as relaxed as all get out during class and then my head races during Savasana. Go figure.

And sometimes I find that lovely, floaty peace without doing a physical practice at all. Sometimes it shows up out of nowhere, while I’m driving or eating or scratching the dog’s belly. Today I saw an old man sitting on a guardrail, watching traffic go by while he picked something from the sole of his shoe, and my heart melted as though he were my grandfather.
Somehow, my yoga practice helps this inside thing happen, even when they don’t occur together.

So. There you go. I have two branches, now. Who knows what will show up next, and what kind of tree I’ll be in the end.

How about you?  How many branches?  What kind?  What’s your current growth?

Thanks to yoga for such gorgeous growth, and thanks to you for the conversation.

Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on My Own Branches

Poses That Make You Crazy

D05_106c.jpg
Okay, what is it with triangle pose????

(Those of you who are experts need not read this one. Go back to practicing your one-armed handstands with your legs in full lotus. I adore you, I do. I worship your accomplishments. But today’s thoughts are not for you.)

Triangle pose. Pretty basic. Do the triangle thing and reach forward to grab your first toe.

For the entire 10 months of my gorgeous, intensive involvement in yoga, this is exactly what happens with my right leg. I reach down, gently grab the first toe of my right foot, and look up to the ceiling. I breathe slowly and evenly. I don’t care if Rob and Cristina (my teachers) count to 29 on this one. Happiness.

Not so with my left leg. On my left side, I reach down, all the while thinking, I am so flexible, I am flexibility itself, I am flexibility incarnate and reincarnate. And my hand reaches mid-calf. Not an inch lower.

Makes me crazy. I know, I know, patience, kindness, acceptance of what is. Even if what is is a daily reminder of my exaggerated imbalance. All I wish for is balance, I tell myself.

So guess what happened this week? For no reason I can think of, my triangle pose has changed!

But not the way you think it might. Not the way it happens in fairy tales and romantic comedy yoga videos. Now neither of my hands can reach my toe! I mean it. I just tried it again before sitting here to write.

Both sides to mid-calf. Not an inch lower.

My thoughts? Be careful what you wish for. I wanted balance. I got it.

Is there a pose that drives you crazy? (Okay, if it’s the one-armed handstand with full lotus, you can play, too.)

Thanks to the yoga poses that drive us crazy, and thanks to you for the conversation.

Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

Posted in Yoga | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on Poses That Make You Crazy

Trust: Yourself or Someone Else?

I’m leaving my profession this fall after 20 years. I woke up one day knowing it was time.

No big deal for the superheroes of this world, but if you’re at all like me, you’ll understand the tightening of the gut and the shallow breathing that show up occasionally at my house since I made the decision.

Why the tight gut? I think it boils down to a shaky relationship with trust.

Trust that I’ll be able to earn an income. Trust that I’m not just being flaky, fickle, (and a few other great f-words), ungrateful, and irresponsible.

Mostly trust in the goodness of this universe, and in my own instincts, the ones that told me it’s time.

Just about everything we see and hear teaches us to trust Someone Else rather than to trust ourselves, don’t you think?

It’s why we  trust doctors who give us 3 minutes (oh sure, that’s enough to diagnose me and take care of my beautiful body, why not?),  why we used to trust priests, and why we accept (even without trust)  being governed by people who tell untruths as a matter of strategic course.

It’s why we stay too long in jobs and relationships.  (I haven’t loved you since the Cuban Missile Crisis.  I stayed for the kids.  Now I’m staying for the dog.)

It’s why we don’t stand up for ourselves with bosses, clients, and our own families. Not to mention people who come to the door selling lousy cookies, fake hydro contracts, and religious salvation.

It’s why we accept less than we want.

It’s why we don’t leap when we have the urge to leap.

I’m 48.  I will go mad if I don’t fully trust myself and this universe at some point.

So I’m going to trust this instinct to change my life, having no idea what will come next. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Do you trust your own instincts?  Have you learned something about that along the way?

I’d love to hear.

Thanks to All Things Good, and thank you for the conversation,

kristin

Posted in blog | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments