yoga humor, yogini style, yoga personality, yoga tips - Y is for Yogini

6 reasons i don't teach yoga

If there's one question I receive on the regular, it's:

"Do you teach yoga?"

Or some variant thereof. (i.e., Where do you teach? Are you teaching yet? Why aren't you teaching?)

My answer has become pull-string. "Well, I've completed 200 hours of teacher training and have been practicing since age 15, but I never had any intention of teaching. I did YTT for me, for the journey."

That's the short answer. This is the long, FUN, REAL one:

7 signs you've got the YTT { yoga teacher training } itch

artwork credit: 3-d-s.eu

It begins as a mere tickle. Which turns into a merry prickle. Fear not, you are not sickle...and this, it is no pickle. It's the welcome mat to a brilliant trip-le. Learn to recognize the signs, so you may buy your ticket.

1. You feel the pressing need to go deeper. Not cliched deeper...we're talking digging your way to China deeper.
2. When faced with a book like Asanas: 608 Yoga Poses, your heart twinges and you get awesomely, nerdily excited.
3. You find yourself inordinately preoccupied with the A's: asana, alignment, asmita { ego }, anahata { heart }, anatomy, and ayurveda.
4. Right at this moment, your life has to change. It must. You know you are at a crossroads.
5. Your leisurely doodles look suspiciously like yoga pose stick figures.
6. You've always got a list of questions for your yoga teacher after class. He or she tries to run and hide from you, but you're a persistent little bugger.
7. You secretly imagine how you would change/enhance/va va voom the yoga classes you take.

If you are laughing, blushing, and/or shaking your head yes, I'm on to you. And it's time to scratch that itch.

{ Welcome to the first of a series of kooky-but-hopefully-helpful YIFY Yoga Teacher Training posts. They've been percolating for a while, but mad love goes out to my East Coast homie Dave, for the gentle push I needed. xo! }

yoga bell ringers { we're everywhere }

 artwork credit: redbubble.net

Today, one of my lovely dovely friends tweeted that she's grateful for the Salvation Army bell ringers. Coincidentally, I happened to be watching Friday (takin' it back to '95) and one of the soundtrack songs is "Keep Their Heads Ringin." The harmony of @SnowflakeYoga and Dr. Dre struck a chord in my mind. A thought loud and clear. As a bell.

As yogis and yoginis, WE ARE ALL BELL RINGERS. We're yoga bell ringers.

1. Every time you share a pose, whether you're a teacher or not, you're giving the gift of being present.
2. YTT rang my bell like nothing else. It woke me up with a sweet tinkling that rocked my world like a big ass church bell. And it's still ringing long after the initial ding and dong.
3. The reverberations of your bells are powerful. You wouldn't believe how far the tiniest bit of love goes.
4. Your bell is a voice, a sound-making instrument, in one form or another. Perhaps it's your eyes expressing empathy and kindness, your touch guiding others deeper into their own bodies, or a simple "Aum" said to yourself, just for you to hear.
5. My own bell has lots of tunes — sometimes it's hip-hop or 50s jazz, some days it's 70s rock or baroque classical. It's often set to soul. :) But whatever the tune, the message always has heart and my own special kind of yoga behind it. I try my best to ring true at every moment. Sure, I eff up sometimes, but I'm here. I'm awake and aware. It will be a lifelong journey. I'd say my bell probably sounds like brains, humor, spice, and eccentricity. :P
6. Speaking of Bells, I'm thinking of two you should meet: Charlotte Bell and Gwen Bell. Charlotte is a beautiful writer — you can find her at Hugger Mugger (and many other places). Her bell's song is intelligent, honest, and mellifluous.  Gwen is known for many interesting things, but her Reverb 10 project has certainly piqued my interest, involvement, and support. Gwen's bell sounds like inspiration and manifestation.
7. Come and ring my belllllll, ring my bell. Ring yours. Ring 'em all.

When was the last time your bell was rung? Have you been ringing lately? What does your bell's song express?

post yoga teacher training depression { pyttd }

 artwork credit: boxViolet 

Post Yoga Teacher Training Depression (PYTTD) defined: a form of gloominess which descends upon a yogini or yogi after her/his rebirth during Yoga Teacher Training. PYTTD often occurs soon after the completion of training, the duration of which may vary. Symptoms can include confusion, frustration, feeling lost, sadness, and extreme fatigue.

I finished my 6-month 200-hour teacher training yesterday. I expected to feel elated, relieved, and excited. I knew there would be wistfulness, sadness. However, I wasn't exactly prepared to find myself incredibly down in the dumps or for this to descend with such haste.

I'm sure stress, lack of sleep, and cortisol overload have much to contribute to this ennui (if I even am slaked). But there's more. It's deeper than bone-weariness. I was having a beautiful love affair with yoga, with my practice. And now this bed is cold. I'm alone. Or it certainly feels painfully so.

I know there's more ahead. That my practice has been catapulted to new heights. This isn't an end, it's a beginning. But right now, I'm thickly embedded in the mire. Hello mud.

What about you, wise community of heart? Did you feel this way when your TT ended? What did you do to dust it all off and get back to your luminous selves?

yoga hips don't lie

photo credit: nike.com

"So be wise and keep on reading the signs of my body." - Shakira

We often ignore what our bodies are trying to tell us. Perhaps it's time for the loo and you hold out a little longer. Maybe you're like me, ignoring your need for sleep over many years' time, developing an inability to rest or recharge. It could be that you need more carbs/vegetables/protein/calcium/whole foods in your life, but you've shut them out. Whatever it is, be honest with yourself. There are things you are ignoring right now that your body wants you to know and address.

We just finished up a weekend of Hip Openers in YTT. Saturday was particularly intense. I'm extremely open in my hips, so I was loving our two-hour sequence, which included Standing Splits, Ardha Galavasana, Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana, Parivrtta Utkatasana, Baddha Konasana, Upavistha Konasana, and Baddha Padmasana (= love). After Sunday's practice — more hip action with the addition of inversions — I went home, fell face first onto my bed, and passed out. Unbeknownst to me (until this morning, that is), those poses found and set loose my bone-deep weariness and fatigue. Today I feel hungover, bowled over, and much like death warmed over.

My hips really don't lie, do they? Now I'm beginning to realize that I have to address what's been unleashed.

Even though I've made it sound wicked, and believe me it is not exactly bliss, I encourage you to get in there. Get inside your hips and excavate. Find a good sequence, a workshop, or simply a class with a focus on hip openers.

Your hips have much to tell you.

(And just in case you wanted to hear the song: Hips Don't Lie, plus the original and MUCH BETTER version: Dance Like This by Claudette Ortiz.)