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yoga

It’s the Time of the Season for Yoga

October 9, 2019 By Swati Singh Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga), Reader Wellness Tagged With: swati singh, yoga

Jaya Yoga

Autumn in New York, why does it seem so inviting?”

– Vernon Duke

Is it the awe-inspiring blend of amber-gold foliage beneath the blue sky, the crisp breeze, and the scent of pumpkin-everything? The energy reforms every season and autumn prepares us for the transition for chilly winters ahead. What doesn’t serve us need to bid adieu to create space for forthcoming new energies. 

This is a good time to begin with practices that align our mind, body and spirit. What could be better than yoga then? While collecting multi-hued leaves, we found beautiful yoga studios along our way. Have a look and decide what’s best for you.

Shantideva Center Yogis and Yogins

Prospect Heights Yoga

184 Underhill Avenue, Prospect Heights

A short walk from Park Slope towards Underhill Ave and you will find a turquoise board catching your attention. Prospect Heights offers a wide range of practices for various levels from basics and foundations to faster flows. Meditation, dynamic and Vinyasa, restorative and alignment-based classes and Pilates is on their rich platter. Experienced teachers, friendly atmosphere, no-frills attitude, and their sliding scale model makes sure that they are accessible to all. An unlimited intro month for $75, intro week for $25. They partner with different social justice organizations and causes each month; aditionally partnering with Rooftop Reds in the Brooklyn Navy Yard for Wednesday and Sunday evening classes.

They offer a unique karma yogi program where students can support in-studio maintenance and projects in exchange for free classes.

By the community and for the community!

Align Brooklyn

579 5th Avenue, 2nd Floor, Park Slope

Align Brooklyn extends a warm welcome on the 5th Ave. Owned by a chiropractor who is a specialist in posture, myofascial therapy, exercise rehab and movement, adds unique services to exhaustive list of their offerings. Hands-on teachers and a balanced approach with focus on vitality make this a great place. Yoga classes include practices of Vinyasa Flow, Restorative, Therapeutic, Iyengar, Hatha. Apart from that, Pilates and barre and functional fitness classes are also in their schedule.  

One-week unlimited trial membership is for $35. They also offer a monthly Unlimited Wellness Membership Giveaway. Apply on thier website. And do not miss their Yin series and Yoga Wall workshop this Fall.

Yogis and Yoginis 

432 6th Avenue, Park Slope

A red-brick building adorned with Buddhist prayer flags welcomes you on 6th Ave. Yogis and Yoginis shares its space with the Shantideva Center, a Tibetan Buddhist Meditation Center. They believe in the symbiosis of meditation with yoga and reserves time for Samatha meditation (calm abiding) in every class.  

Beginners can opt for Starter and Basic yoga classes. Intermediate yoga and open level yoga classes are for those who already know basics and want to step up a rung. The uniquely offer Kundalini Yoga, Qi Gong, Yoga for individual attention. Y&Y also offers children classes that correspond with adult classes for parents or caregivers who want to practice while their kids play.

A new student special offer is 3 classes for $30. 

Y&Y will have a Restorative Sound Journey on Friday, September 20 at 7:45 pm. It’s a 75-minute immersion in devotional song, healing sounds, and profound relaxation. They believe the voices generate collective energy; so then they lie down for deep relaxation with the healing sounds of gongs, singing bowls, chimes, and other sacred instruments. Space is limited and the cost is $ 25.

What are you waiting for?

Align Brooklyn

Jaya Yoga

1626 8th Avenue, Park Slope

A red brick building on the 8th Ave curtained by Pin Oak tree is a spacious and radiant yoga studio, aged over 20 years. They offer Hatha yoga in all levels, including special offerings such as Restorative Yoga, Kids Yoga, Prenatal, Meditation, Yin Yoga and 200/300 Hour Teacher Training.  Additionally, they conduct workshops in chanting, yoga philosophy, anatomy, individualized aspects of vinyasa, and private classes. Reiki treatments and massages are also available. 

Knowledgeable instructors and a community vibe make it a great place to practice. They strive for an intentional harnessing of energy, a dedication to continuous learning, and a series of movements to strengthen and calm the body, mind, and spirit.

This fall season, they are reintroducing their 10-series kids classes, 30-hour yin immersion workshop, and Pranayama training for teachers.

Yoga Sole

254 Windsor Place, Windsor Terrace

Neatly tucked in a quiet corner in Windsor terrace, wearing a green canopy shed, Yoga Sole welcomes you with open arms and promises to change your perspective if you think yoga is not for you. They offer Therapeutic Yoga, Yoga Tune Up, different speeds of flow classes and Stretch and Strengthen classes. They have an introductory offer for 3 classes at $39 and 1-month-unlimited pass for $99. Supportive and friendly environment, experienced teachers who bring their own unique style makes this a must-try place.

For the Fall season, they will be offering a special Restorative Yoga Series along with live music and yoga events. They are also leading a 25-hour continuing education therapeutic teacher training.

Yoga Sole

Third Eye Yoga

433 7th Avenue, Park Slope

Located on 7th Ave, Third Eye Yoga is about a physical & mental lifestyle, not a complicated shape or a stressful workout. They are not interested in large crowded classes where everyone gets lost in the mix, rather they offer personalized programs built upon evidence-based physiology and biomechanics. With over 10 years of existence, the place has garnered more than 100 five star reviews and all for good reasons. This place is peaceful, welcoming, and more than willing to listen to you and your needs. 

From handstand to savasana, from sitting to standing, they break it down to the core building blocks that lay the groundwork for all body movement. 

Guess what, Park Slope Reader gives you one more reason to try this place. They will give you $50 off on any of their program of your choice if you mention this article. Maybe, show them the copy?  

Here are a few more yoga studios that are well worth checking out as you decide which is the best fit for you this Fall.

Bend and Bloom Yoga  – 708 Sackett Street, Park Slope

Park Slope Yoga Center – 837 Union Street, Park Slope

Juniper Yoga & Healing Arts – 639 Vanderbilt Avenue, Prospect Heights

So, where is the autumn breeze taking you today?

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga), Reader Wellness Tagged With: swati singh, yoga

Good & Well: A Local Investigation of Wellness

November 21, 2018 By Erika Veurink Filed Under: Reader Wellness Tagged With: CBD, Chinese Medicine, craniosacral therapy, facials, massage, meditation, sauna, spa, steam, wellness, yoga

It’s nearly impossible to walk a block in Park Slope without spotting wellness in one of its many embodiments. Alternative medical offices and juice shops abound. Conversations often slip into the familiar cadence of words once foreign-words like chakra, ketogenic, or ashwagandha. Gone are the days of living intentionally being reserved for the hyper-health conscious. Wellness has made its way to the masses.     

 

What was once a niche market is now a near 4 trillion dollar movement towards living “well.” And what does that mean exactly? I took to the streets of Park Slope, a historically progressive and health centered neighborhood, to find out. 

My journey began at D’mai urban spa where the scents of serenity that slipped out the sleek exterior created an impromptu oasis on 5th Avenue. I was transported from the muggy street to the back corner of the spa, plush robe knotted, to a sweltering sauna. Wellness, I thought prematurely and perhaps influenced by the cucumber water I was sipping, was actually pretty simple. As my body unwound and the temperature rose, I considered the last time I intentionally did something for my physical self. Did my recent acquisition of a swingy workout skort count? My thoughts were interrupted as I was shuffled to my massage table. When Daniella Stromberg, the owner of D’Ami, proposed a CBD Pain Relief Massage as a experiment in wellness, I was intrigued. 

CBD oil, primarily made from canabitdoid, has been popular in the world of wellness for years. Known to relieve stress, relax tension in the body, and perhaps even lighten the weight of anxiety, this hemp derived miracle worker is shifting into the mainstream. 

As the massage therapist pulled the tension from my wrist she whispered, “There, different story,” and I nearly jumped off the table in light of this revelation. She was right. Wellness is altering, for good, the parts of our stories we can change. Narrative traces through every point in our lives-why should our health be any different? In moving towards what is good, we move inadvertently towards what is true. As Danielle put simply, “Wellness is the state of being your authentic self.” 

 

And these aren’t new stories we’re uncovering. Many ancient practices of wellness have been reinterpreted for life in the 21st century. Take bath houses for example. In 2500 BC, the “Great Bath” functioned as both a community gathering place and a temple. In 2018, between the low-lying warehouses of Gowanus, cityWell brooklyn re-imagines the art of “taking the waters” for modern city dwellers. The space is unassuming from the outside, but after slipping off your shoes and venturing past the entrance, a sanctum awaits. Liz Tortolani, owner and visionary of the space, has crafted an island in a desert. That island being a collection of small shifts that speak to her passion for beauty, restoration, and the timeless pursuit of better living. 

For Liz, empowering wellness seekers to take an active role in the honoring of their bodies is the ultimate form of giving back. And her hope is that this becomes a lifestyle shift, not a once-a-year birthday treat. Wellness being a constant priority makes it preemptive, I learned. Stepping into cityWell feels like a collective exhale. Candles quietly wave, the sound of the warm baths blur out the traffic nearby, and the no shoe rule works to ground attendees in the moment at hand. And that moment is tranquil, safe, and shared. 

The five elements of Chinese medicine (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water) are all deftly woven into the space. Upon my second visit, Liz visited me in the sauna clutching a binder overflowing with magazine clippings, color palettes, and early business proposals. The evolution of cityWell took shape before my eyes as she explained how each piece manifested-the cork floors that cover the space, the candles from a local apothecary, the vines climbing above the whirlpool, the personal lockers for New Yorkers on the go, and the rain showers above head. The shared feeling of presentness that humid Tuesday morning, a collection of woman with all sorts of stories gathered in one place, was proof of her success. 

 

Community wove its way into every wellness related practice I visited. At Slope Wellness, a few avenues closer to the park, so did the no shoe rule. White noise machines and a clean, organized office space help instantly create an air of calm upon descent. A host of services, such as Jade Gua Sha Facials and yoga practices fill the multipurpose rooms every day. Here, acupuncture is offered in a group setting, as a nod to its ancient origins, but also as an attempt to provide a more affordable alternative. The practice was founded over five years ago in response to a space in the market for a wellness experience that extended beyond the occasional massage. CSA drops off produce here, rooms can be rented by the community, and health related products are curated for sale. Dawn Phillips, a devoted staff member, spoke again of the importance of empowering patients beyond the appointment, to pursue health at home. In our conversation, she explained how she defined wellness as “the mind, body, and spirit connection.” She spoke to the ancient understanding that these compenents can’t be divorced; that they are most powerful in tandem. When the client understand this, the work done at Slope Wellness has the potential to extend into empowered self care; the ability to pursue wellness at home. 

Her speciality, craniosacral therapy, is the work of talk and touch in releasing tension in the body, in some cases working to dislodge trauma. It seems the more aptly we embrace wellness, the more we open ourselves to conversations of the stories our bodies tell. Dawn noted that talking about trauma has become notably less taboo than it was historically. “We can start to change our reality,” she explained. That change, that shift in narrative, is at the root of all wellness. 

At the end of the day, wellness is as much a robust spa treatment as it is taking the long way through Prospect Park home from work. It’s about modifying, even in the slightest sense, our relationship towards our bodies. And it turns out wellness is often a practice best served in the company of others. It’s a state of mind, an intention. And the occasional green juice.

Filed Under: Reader Wellness Tagged With: CBD, Chinese Medicine, craniosacral therapy, facials, massage, meditation, sauna, spa, steam, wellness, yoga

Brooklyn Mama Mindfulness

August 28, 2018 By Anna Keller Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: anna keller, mindfulness, yoga

It always begins the same way. I wake up with a plan. Perhaps, this is my mistake. After all, is there such a thing as “planning” when you have a toddler? Is there such a thing as “mindfulness”? I didn’t think so. Not when my daughter ripped off her diaper and ran around the apartment yelling “Elmo! Elmo! Elmoooooo!” I definitely didn’t believe in mindfulness when I found a sock in the toilet, a raw egg from the fridge cracked over my desk and a piece of chewing gum on the back of my pants (that last one was totally my fault). I only first began to believe in mindfulness when I lost my temper at a coffee shop in Windsor Terrace. 

Mistake #1: I brought my hungry two and a half year old daughter to a coffee shop in Windsor Terrace, right near a park where we usually like to play. 

Mistake #2) I did not take her to the park where we usually like to play. Instead, I wanted to have a picturesque Brooklyn coffee. 

Mistake #3) I also had not eaten. 

Mistake #4) I had gone to bed too late the night before.

Hunger, sleep deprivation and the need to plan a day can take its toll on any mother. But, there is something about being a hip Brooklyn mama that triggers all kinds of high expectations. For example, we still want to be cool. We want our kids to grow up in a creative, culturally diverse setting. We want them to know about math, science, writing and how these subjects often spark a revolution. Many of us believe in the public school system. We believe that these things will set them out on a path to greatness. We believe that Lou Reed, Lena Horne, Joan Rivers and Jay-Z, all Brooklynites, are part of our children’s genetic makeup. Well, at least their neighborhood makeup. We also want them to have extraordinary upbringings. They should learn how to cross the street, ride their bikes safely along Prospect Park, window shop on Seventh Avenue in Park

Slope, yet be experimental enough to try brunch with us at the hottest new restaurant in Cobble Hill. And sometimes, when we think about all of these things, when we think about how to get from the Carroll Gardens playground, to the new bookstore on

Smith Street and still get back home in time for lunch, a nap, a snack and a cuddle…we lose it. We lose our tempers.

This is what happened to me, anyway. My two and a half year old did not want to sit at the café’s quaint table. She did not want to color with the Ziploc bag of broken crayons I had brought along. She did not want to look at pictures on my phone. I knew it was bad when she didn’t even want a vanilla Donut Factory donut. At the last second, when the tantrum was in full view of everyone trying to concentrate on their laptops, as my coffee spilled across the table and onto the floor, when I could feel that the room and everyone in it were holding their breath, I yelled. “Stop it!” I snapped, “just stop it right now!” 

Often, I think that as mothers we hold so much inside of ourselves that when the time comes, and we actually allow ourselves to break, we’re like a steam pipe that releases an explosion of hot air into the atmosphere. Yet, we don’t feel better after the air is released, we feel horrified. It’s like, how could we have lost control? Who do we think we are, human beings!?! If we are mothers who work, our guilt is magnified. We ask ourselves, how, when we have one free afternoon with our precious child, could we have lost our temper? Some of us have two children, or three. Some of us have nannies and some of us can’t afford the help. Whatever it is we have or don’t have, we are raising little people. People who will one day run for office, or build bridges, little people who will write books and hopefully not include the parts about their mothers bringing them to trendy coffee shops while losing their minds. 

Here’s what happened: I started to cry. Right there, in full view of the laptop convention, I burst into tears. The young girl behind the counter who looked like a 90’s supermodel with a shirt quoting Beyoncé that read, “I Woke Up Like This” bent down to help me clean up the spill. Her youth and beauty made me feel worn out and tired. When she bent over I could see her perfect breasts and thought of my own sagging ones. If her breasts had a voice they would say, “Hi I’m Linda and I’m Shirley, nice to finally meet you!” My 

breasts seem to say, “I’m Rita and this is Bob now leave me the hell alone.” If my breasts could smoke a pack of Camels, they would. My daughter touched my face with her pudgy hand and whispered, “sorry Mommy, sorry.” Ooof. 

So, yeah…mindfulness. That day my daughter and I skipped our visit to the public library free reading time series. We went home and ate cookies. We played with all of the dolls on the toy shelf and we put magnets on the fridge. We sang songs. We filled the tub with toy ducks. In those moments I realized I was living in the moment. There was no plan, no “oh, we should do this next.” That’s part of mindfulness and maybe that’s the hardest part of it: the ability to let go. Mindfulness is a superpower. It allows us to thrust ourselves into the full living moment without aggression or anger.

Mindfulness is a state of awareness. It is the ability to bring the breath back to the present moment. Having a plan is ok. Often, as a Brooklyn Mama, we need to have a plan. We live in busy, bustling neighborhoods. But, maybe that plan can be more flexible, and if it can’t be maybe our own minds can. 

If I had tuned into myself and been mindful the day of the coffee shop disaster, I would have taken a moment to find my breath.  I would have looked around and seen the situation. Then I would have understood that although I was a part of that situation, I still have the ability to look at the each moment from a third eye perspective. This idea will not stop my daughter from throwing a tantrum. It will not stop people from staring. The coffee is still spilled; the crayons are still broken. But with mindfulness the day is not ruined, instead it is steeped in possibility.

My daughter is throwing a tantrum. She is frustrated. I am exhausted. I feel that exhaustion. It’s ok to feel this way. It’s ok for my daughter to feel this way. Breathe. This is the moment. This is what’s happening in the moment right now. I want to cry. I feel so tired I want to cry. Feel this exhaustion. Breathe. Let’s pack up our things slowly, mindfully. Let’s put our bags back on the stroller. Let’s help the young woman cleaning up our own mess. Let’s do this mindfully. Look, she’s wearing a Beyoncé shirt. Breathe. Look, her breasts are perfect and mine are weary. “Sorry, Mommy, sorry.” I fed you with these breasts and they look like this because of love. My hair is a quiet tornado. I should have brushed it. Breathe. We are here, in Brooklyn, in a coffee shop, at a table, getting ready to go home. We are sleepy, cranky, overstrained, overburdened. We are fully aware. We are absolutely alive.

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: anna keller, mindfulness, yoga

Memory & The Yoga Mat

June 19, 2018 By Anna Keller Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: anna kelly, Brooklyn, history, memory, Park Slope, past, present, shavasana, time, yoga

In the late 1930’s and 1940’s in New York, the city used funding to do a project on housing and commercial properties. They sent employees out to take photos of almost every home or building. The result was an archive of over 700,000 photos. I suppose the city wanted a record of what things looked like in what seems now like a simpler time of drab black and white. Were there things they could change? Improve? Eliminate? The photos were forgotten; stored away in the city’s archives. Since this was a borough-wide project, and the vaults have been open to the public since the late 1980’s, anyone is now able to glimpse a Park Slope, Brooklyn Heights, Cobble Hill, Boerum Hill, Carroll Gardens and Windsor Terrace frozen in time. These photos can be acquired from the city and bought for a small fee. These are visions of our Brooklyn that make us think of what remains. They are snapshots of longing.

The tin ceilings in our realm of Brooklyn turn the world a sepia tone. As we sip our cappuccinos’ in coffee shops that have kept their original architecture, perhaps we can hear a movie reel and recall that a quiet revolution was something that began in our neighborhoods with our own foreign voices. We remember this even though some of us weren’t even alive. So what is memory, really?

The vision of 1940’s Brooklyn does not evoke illusions of a yoga mat. Instead it brings to mind the cinched waists of young women in floral dresses, stoop ball, cigars, and baseball cards flapping in the spoke wheels of bicycles flying down Court Street. And although Yoga did exist in New York in the 1940’s, it was a hidden phenomenon. But how would our Brooklyn have looked if instead of biting our nails waiting for our boys to come home, we had sat on the floor without shoes or socks and said “Namaste”, the divine in me bows to the divine in you. What would those poses have taught us? What would our history books have looked like?

Buddha had an interesting take on love and memory. He said, “Love in the past – is only a memory. Love in the future – is only a fantasy. True love lives in the here and now.” Can this be right? Buddha’s words from 528 B.C. are a memory. They are just memory written down. Does that mean they are still alive? Does this mean Buddha is walking down Atlantic Avenue looking for a good vegan restaurant? Does it mean the 1940’s never died and if this is true then maybe the Brooklyn Dodgers are still playing baseball somewhere, maybe we never really went to war, maybe everything happens simultaneously and it depends on what scene we are taking place in at the moment. But no, that can’t be right. It isn’t right. Memory is the place that exists in our minds and if we can get a hold of our minds we can revisit memory anytime we want to.

Enter the yoga mat, the tin ceiling studio and the breath of not the past or the future, but of the here and now. Yoga requires one thing of us: to show up. We show up for many reasons. Most of the time we show up so that the nostalgia of our past Brooklyn’s won’t choke us. We show up so that we can relive those silent film memories while still letting them go. Shavasana is a good place for this kind of meditation. The end of every yoga class ends with Shavasana, also known as the “corpse position”. This title seems fitting for an idea of something like memory. After all, even our brief day-to-day moments are memories. Yet, what does lying on the ground still breathing teach us about recollecting our past? What can it enable us to do by learning from it?

My favorite thing to do during Shavasana is to visit the dead. And maybe lying on my back allows me a kind of closeness to the deceased that I may not encounter while standing up. Some yoga teachers, at the finality of their two-hour classes, offer a rare and valuable gem when they say, “during this resting pose you may choose to visit whoever you want or you may choose only to relax.” Who knows where some souls decide travel during the dreamlike wakefulness of Shavasana? What does Brooklyn begin to look like in these moments? Are the churches of Park Slope transformed slowly from red brick to a grey film? Do the old Italian bakeries in Carroll Gardens delicately fade into an illusory space on the avenue? What changes and what stays the same in the present moment?

In the 1940’s Yoga would have taught us patience, forgiveness and the art of letting go. Our history books would have stated as much. In some meditations the Brooklyn Dodgers are still playing baseball, the world never really went to war and yes the Buddha is walking down Atlantic Avenue, in search of fried chickpeas. Other visits to the yoga mat inform us that all of this is nonsense, nothing can be erased, and reality is reality. But then sometimes, as we close our eyes, perhaps the teacher passes by and puts her hands on our heads. Perhaps we are reminded of our grandparents, our parents, a child, a sister we lost, a brother we don’t speak to, or a stranger we once loved.  The dead teach us to honor these memories, to hold them in our present hearts where we feel them. And it is in these moments when our realm of Brooklyn really does change. It transforms from a photograph to a live theatre production, from a silent film to a noisy one. The remnants of the past collide with the present. On our yoga mats we can see color, as if for the first time.

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: anna kelly, Brooklyn, history, memory, Park Slope, past, present, shavasana, time, yoga

YOGA: The Four Noble Truths

March 20, 2018 By Anna Keller Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga), Yoga Tagged With: Brooklyn, buddhism, health, lifestyle, local, season, winter, yoga

What is it about the cold months in Park Slope that make Brooklyn stand out like a Charles Dickens village? With all the chaos and commotion of our city, our world and our speck in the universe, it is Brooklyn that remains unchanged. Even with new renovations, new neighbors, new schools, hospitals and restaurants, the true heart of winter lives and thrives on the streets of Brooklyn. Some of this has to do with the deep roots of our borough, the history of Park Slope and it’s surrounding neighborhoods. But, some of it also has to do with Yoga. 

Yoga has become a phenomenon in western culture. Brooklyn is no exception. This is nothing new. As human beings our attachment to the affects of yoga are great. Also, let’s face it; aside from the benefits we enjoy the community. It is in a yoga class where people find they can be alone. It is also in a yoga class that most people find they are not at all alone. So how great is our suffering during this season? How much time have we spent on our own hearts between the cool rush of holiday shopping and New Year’s promises? Winter in Brooklyn gives us the opportunity to deepen our practice in an open and more vulnerable way.

[pullquote]The four noble truths can guide us through a cold season and bring to light our own noble hearts. After all, winter is not about gifts or holidays or even resolution. Winter is about a solace we can find when we are quiet enough. [/pullquote]The true heart of winter resides somewhere between Windsor Terrace and Prospect Heights. I mean to say that if one walks through all of the neighborhoods that relate to these two places, there will be an abundance of coffee shops, a plethora of bars and a vast array of yoga studios. In the coffee shop laptops and frothy cappuccinos prepare us for our daily grinds by serving the daily grind. The bar allows us to unwind from the stressful perimeters of our work, family and home life. But it is inside the yoga studio where we may enter, remove our shoes and respect where we are in the moment. We do not try to escape the cold. Instead, we seek refuge and our own bodies feed us the warmth of our tired souls.

There are four noble truths that can be incorporated into these long months of winter; four noble truths seem to follow us on our paths to the heart. These truths ignite the cold months with a fiery reality. What we might find at the coffee shop, the bar or the yoga studio throughout the year is dukkha. Dukkha is the first noble truth in Buddhism and it roughly translates to “life is suffering”. I know, it sounds depressing right? Although this sounds awful it actually should have the opposite affect. It is a teaching that enriches the idea of impermanence. Our happiest moments can be considered dukkha because they too will end, and so we can say that our saddest moments are also dukkha. They will not last. Dukkha is significant in winter because the cold season too will end. Flowers will bloom again and so we can carry the first noble truth in our mind’s eye as a compass and as a means of letting go.

The second noble truth is tanha. Some translate this word as “craving”. This has to do with our human attachment to the things we desire, or just desire in general. Our need to attach ourselves to material objects, ideas and people create chaos within our hearts and minds. This truth has been realized on yoga mats all over the world. In Brooklyn throughout the cold months and the buying frenzies tahna sticks its tongue out at us and dares us to enjoy our lives as they are. Tahna asks us not to try and change anything but to see everything with a third eye as if we are hovering over ourselves without judgment but with a greater awakening of the spirit. It asks us not to hold on.

Nirhodha is the third noble truth and it is also an instruction on the end of suffering. It sounds so simple: just let go, stop craving things, stop attaching to things. But, I really want my cappuccino! This truth arrives at a slow pace. Through our yoga practice and meditation it comes. The need to grasp dissipates. We may awaken. We may stay asleep. But we practice. This is our path, which then leads us into the final and fourth noble truth.

The fourth truth, magga is our path. It is often referred to as the eightfold path because it is comprised of different areas and aspects of our lives and instructs us on how to walk our own path. In a nutshell it is a mindful way of living. The first three noble truths cannot exist or be realized without this one. The magga is like a sacred duty we have to ourselves and to the world around us.

The heart of winter in Brooklyn can be brutal. Or maybe I’ve just attached myself to that idea. But where there is a lull in the season, there is an opportunity to awaken on the yoga mat. The four noble truths can guide us through a cold season and bring to light our own noble hearts. After all, winter is not about gifts or holidays or even resolution. Winter is about a solace we can find when we are quiet enough. When we walk past the coffee shop, skip the bar and take off our socks at the yoga studio in order to look at our own feet, the ugliness, the beauty, the impermanence and the silent possibility of our own wonder.

 

Art by Heather Heckel

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga), Yoga Tagged With: Brooklyn, buddhism, health, lifestyle, local, season, winter, yoga

Come On In, The Water’s Fine – at cityWell

January 17, 2018 By Emily Gawlak Filed Under: Park Slope Life Tagged With: bathhouse, Gowanus, massage, sauna, steam, yoga

Of all the apartment compromises we make in this city, our poor excuses for bathrooms may be the most egregious. I mean, honestly, where are all of the claw foot tubs? Thankfully, a needed respite from the too-cramped bathroom blues lies off the R train in Gowanus, where Liz Tortolani welcomes you into her boutique bathhouse, cityWell, with open arms and extra fluffy towels. 

 

There was still snow on the ground on the Sunday afternoon scheduled for my hydrotherapy session, two hours set aside for full use of the townhouse-turned-bathhouse’s wet and dry saunas, hot tub, and showers. I turned down a quiet block of President Street past Third Avenue towards the canal as a nearby church bells tolled three, and lo! a eucalyptus branch signaled the way. Soon I was standing in a small entryway, enveloped in a blend of ginger, peppermint, and tobacco, a signature cityWell scent.

“I bet you weren’t quite sure where you were going!” Tortolani’s boomed as I stepped inside. The creator and sole owner of the spa is a vigorous, constant presence in the space, greeting guests, fiddling with steam valves, spritzing aromatherapy here and there, toweling off a slippery spot on the cork floor. She escorted me in, and, after a quick tour of the space, I swapped my parka and sweatpants for a swimsuit and was soaking in an outdoor hot tub, observed only by (no doubt jealous) empty balconies of the surrounding townhouses.

Liz in the backyard, photograph by Jessica Miller.

Tortolani opened cityWell in late 2015, but her quest for alternative healing began long ago, stemming from a Chron’s Disease diagnosis at age 13. While abroad in Sydney, Australia during college, she had a formative first experience at a Korean bathhouse. Years later, while studying massage therapy in Seattle, she began visiting Hothouse Spa, a women-only space that helped cement her belief in the benefits of regular hydrotherapy and proved an important influence on cityWell. “It really saved me,” says Tortolani. “I found that place incredibly healing to my body.”

When Tortolani moved to New York City in 2005, she wanted to find a Hothouse equivalent, but was nonplussed by what she saw as crowded, remote, or male-centric options. “I had just moved to one of the best cities in the world, and yet it didn’t have any facility like I was lucky enough to have in Seattle. A place I could walk to, that was in my neighborhood, that was accessible, that was affordable,” she shares. So she set out to build it herself.

Tortolani credits the Business Outreach Center Network as integral in her path to entrepreneurship because of their wealth of free resources and guidance for aspiring business owners. ““They keep asking you,” she recalls, “What are your next steps?” Her mentors there also introduced her to the Brooklyn Public Library’s Annual PowerUP! Business Plan Competition, which served as “a catalyst for propelling me forward.” The competition also motivated her to put together an extensive plan, which in turn helped Tortolani connect with architect Deborah Mariotti of MariottiStudio, who would remain by her side for the next five years as they dealt with both the excitement of planning and disappointment of setbacks and spaces falling through.

 

 

But eventually, Tortolani tapped the vein of two trends. First, she kept her eye on Gowanus, a neighborhood she’d lived in since moving to the city and loved for its grit and industrial feel. “As an entrepreneur you want to go into a place before it blows up. I was able to sense that this place was going to change.”

Working as a holistic health coach, a massage therapist, and a yoga instructor, Tortolani also saw the way wellness practices — on both an individual and organizational level — were the first to go when the recession hit, but watched as there was a refocusing on self-care in recent years. With cityWell, she hopes to encourage wellness as routine. “That was part of my concept,” she shares, “making self-care and wellness a part of everyday life, not just a luxury.

 

 

CityWell is not without luxury, though, catering to any number of boutique experiences. A la carte massages and body scrubs are offered, as well as elaborate packages such as the Mini Retreat, which includes private use of the space, a yoga session, a full body massage, a clay mask, and more.

But during open hours, which are currently offered four days a week, with two community hour time slots priced at only $20 for a two hour session, those with a limited budget are also free to escape from, as Liz puts it, “the fire of the city.”

Most open hours are all-gender, but on Sunday’s women-only hours, I and about a dozen other women roamed the space, pausing from our ablutions to sip tea or flip through books on yoga and meditation. Tortolani has picked each and every element of the simple, curvaceous space with care, from the deep blue of the rain showers, to the custom-built cement sink, to natural bath products (and the aforementioned entryway candle) from Brooklyn-based Apotheke. “This place came from my brain,” says Tortolani with pride. “I was a part of every single part of that place being built. Down to the fact that we picked out every single material on our own, my architect and I.”

As the clock ticked past 5 and I reluctantly prepared to leave my newfound sanctuary and venture back out into the cold, Liz was animatedly discussing massage with another open hour attendee who had inquired about sports massage. No, Tortolani wasn’t a sports therapist… but could she just offer the woman five minutes of deep-tissue massage, free of charge?

Tortolani has a staff of four, including two massage therapists, and spends four days of the week tending to the wellness of grateful urbanites. “As a massage therapist, you work on one person at a time,” she says. “You can’t tend to as many people as you’d like. I felt like if I built cityWell, I could create a space where one can come and take care of their body. I don’t have to actually physically be there.” That certainly won’t stop her from trying, though. Tortolani hopes to hold open hours on every day of the week and she has her sights set on cityWell Paris in 2020.

New Yorkers, bathtime just got a whole lot better.

 

 

 

Visit cityWell brooklyn online: http://citywellbrooklyn.com

Filed Under: Park Slope Life Tagged With: bathhouse, Gowanus, massage, sauna, steam, yoga

Sweeping the Floors of a Yoga Studio or How I Learned to Touch My Toes and Stand on My Head

November 14, 2017 By Anna Keller Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: Brooklyn, Child’s pose, yoga

Once I was allowed to work at a Yoga Studio in Brooklyn. I say, “allowed” because at the time I was a mess (and that’s putting it lightly). I was trying to stop drinking, trying to stop being sad, trying to stop being in love with every tattooed beauty I met in Prospect Park, trying. I was trying to stop trying.

A generous studio owner in Windsor Terrace gave me the opportunity to run the front desk at her Yoga studio a few days a week in exchange for free classes. I could check everyone into the class and then at the last minute (if I wanted to) I could lock the front door and slip my mat through the back curtain and take the class.

[pullquote]I remember that after that class I swept the studio with a clear mind. I put my awareness into everything I did. I noticed the pail, the tea tree oil, the mop, the floor, the ants gathered by the windowsill outside. I noticed myself in the vast world. [/pullquote]“There’s just one thing,” she said before she tossed me the keys on my first day. “You have to sweep the studio after every class. Sweep and then wet and dry mop. I’ll show you.” She opened a closet close to the desk and pulled out a broom with a wicker bottom, and a pail with a bottle labeled “tea tree oil concoction”. Born and raised in Brooklyn my parents used Pine Sol and Clorox on everything. This was new and environmentally savvy. It smelled like upstate New York and made me forget for a minute who I was and more than who I was it made me forget who I wasn’t and who I was trying to be.

My boss had me follow her through the studio first sweeping from the corners inwards. Then after we pushed the dirt into the mini dustpan we filled the bucket with this Upstate New York smelling substance and began the mopping, then the dry mopping. “You must mop the same way you sweep and do it mindfully. Every time you clean the studio bring your focus and energy into what you’re doing, just like in yoga.”

I felt like a female Ralph Macchio in The Karate Kid. I disliked doing anything the same way. Looking back, perhaps that’s what my life lacked most at the time: structure. I wanted to do things the same way I just didn’t know how. My body and mind pushed everything away in those days. I pushed so hard against emotions that I couldn’t feel anything and so sweeping the studio, in the same way, every day, sometimes three times a day, was a relief and a hindrance all at once.

The first week of sweeping the studio different pictures from my life passed through my mind. They weren’t all bad pictures but I was trying to focus! Of course there were also the yoga classes. I would sweep, check the next class in and then slip my mat through the back curtain and feel that I couldn’t do any of the poses. I couldn’t even touch my toes!  I fell back into Child’s Pose more times than I could count and then I couldn’t wait for Shavasana, even though that scared me too because though relaxing it would mean having to go deep inside of myself to find peace.

So there I was, working at a yoga studio feeling like the worst student of yoga, pushing my feelings away, doing everything wrong…or so it seemed. But, it’s funny with the Eastern arts. Sometimes, faking it is the one true path to heart. Going through the motions somehow helped me to get somewhere, which wasn’t anywhere really, but it was here.

Let me explain. One day my boss asked if I could do the desk on a Sunday night. Trying to stay away from the bars and the boys I thought this would be all right. But, the Sunday night class was a restorative class and I had only been taking morning classes that generally were early flow and tune up classes. A restorative class is slower and it is supposed to be more relaxing. I’m a brassy Brooklynite with a “go, go, go” personality and so as I found out that night the restorative classes are more challenging for me. Also, I had been taking yoga and sweeping the studio for almost six months and I still felt like I couldn’t do anything. I still couldn’t touch my toes, I definitely couldn’t stand on my head and I smelled like a pine forest.

Sunday night arrived and with it a smaller class. The morning classes filled up but Sunday night was for the wicked, or just for the people who didn’t have to work on Monday morning. I checked the class in and then slipped through the back curtain. It was warm outside and the windows of the studio were open. There was a calm feeling in the air and we began. Halfway through the session I felt strange. I was completely present for the first time at the studio. Something about the slow drift of the class made me take notice of every movement and every thought. And with these movements my thoughts slipped away. I think this is what Zen Buddhists call “no mind”. And then all at once the teacher had us go into “easy pigeon” but using a bolster to lie on.

Easy pigeon is known to open up the hips. But, more than that the hips hold anger and tension which at the time I didn’t know. Using all of my awareness I deepened the pose. I breathed. I stretched. I stopped. For the first time in my life, I stopped trying. And then a flood of tears came. I didn’t know where they came from, or why and it didn’t matter. It was my body colliding with my mind. It was the relief of release. It was a slow croon, a long note, a letting go.

I remember that after that class I swept the studio with a clear mind. I put my awareness into everything I did. I noticed the pail, the tea tree oil, the mop, the floor, the ants gathered by the windowsill outside. I noticed myself in the vast world. The next week I touched my toes. A month later I did my first headstand. Today I sweep my own home with that same awareness. I mop with the same tea tree oil concoction. Only today I don’t push myself away. How can I? I’m right here. I’ve been here all along.

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: Brooklyn, Child’s pose, yoga

Bending Towards Brooklyn: Life as Yoga

August 30, 2017 By Tatiana Forero Puerta Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: satya, truth, yoga

Satya: Truth as Resistance

“The truth will set you free.” John 8:32

As children we are told not to lie. Telling the truth appears in many of the world’s traditions as a principle to live by. And yet, prevarication is ubiquitous; as one of our most habitually ingrained tendencies, we often don’t even realize the extent to which we continually lie. This leads to three questions: 1. Why do we lie so easily? 2. Why should we care about not lying? 3. How do we stop doing it?

Yogic wisdom suggests that truthfulness is more than just an aphorism to live by. This is especially true in our current social landscape of alternative facts, post-truth, and general mistrust. The yogic view on truth reminds us that honesty isn’t just about facts—veracity is indeed not only an act of courage, but also one of resistance.

 

We are hardwired to lie

Studies have suggested that our innate tendency to lie is often linked to the reactive brain, the part of our thought process that causes the fight/flight/freeze reaction when we encounter danger. Lying isn’t restricted to Homo sapiens; many of our animal friends are avid at deception: chameleons and octopi are expert liars, almost seamlessly blending into their surroundings in response to danger. And that’s really the key: lying is our camouflage. Yet, whereas animals resort to camouflage as a means of protecting their lives, lying for most of us has become habitual and is not at all linked with our physical wellbeing. A study in the Journal of Basic and Applied Psychology found that 60 percent of people lied at least once in a ten-minute conversation with a stranger, and a separate Cambridge study found that people are more likely to engage in dishonest behavior when they feel rejected. Additionally, a study titled “Lying in Everyday Life” found that more than 70 percent of liars would lie again.

[pullquote]“Sooner or later we become aware of the toxicity of dishonesty, and we become committed to truth on a greater scale. In this way, honesty becomes an act of resistance.”[/pullquote]This type of lying is wholly different from that of our animal counterparts; we are clearly not lying out of self-preservation—at least not physical preservation. Instead, as psychologist Robert Feldman says, “We find that as soon as people feel their self-esteem is threatened, they immediately begin to lie at higher levels.” Thus, the lying that we typically engage in is aimed at sheltering our egos in a habitual way, and, when normalized and shifted to the greater social level, has the tendency of becoming quite dangerous.

 

Why the truth matters

While there is a stark difference between telling a small, personal lie about who ate the last piece of chocolate cake and a prominent political figure spouting purposely inaccurate data at a crowd of supporters, both the impetus and the result remain fundamentally the same. Lying becomes a form of protecting our interests at the expense of creating an erroneous reality for someone else. Continental philosopher Martin Heidegger called this “facticity.” Through lies, we (consciously or unconsciously) create a new facticity for everyone else and they base their follow-up actions and reactions on this. When we lie, we are essentially creating a new, fictional world for those who the lie affects. When we lie in our personal lives, we affect our immediate circle—our partners, friends, or family—but the stakes are exponentially increased when lying becomes the fabric of our socio-political system and millions of people’s perception of reality becomes skewed. As a result, millions of people are effectively living different facticities, creating a situation where communication becomes a monumental barrier simply because we are operating from radically different understanding of what’s actually true.

This isn’t at all to diminish the impact of lying in our intimate relationships. The yogic wisdom reminds us that part of the practice of yoga is learning to fully be with what is. When we distort reality for our partners, we create a chasm between us. In that space of separation is where we find dukkah, un-ease, or suffering. This is common sense: when we lie to each other we effectively alienate one another and the level of trust and intimacy possible in our relationships suffers. In the end, whether lying on a personal or social level, we are deepening the gorge between us, and thereby we are (both individually as well as collectively) suffering more as a result.

Truthfulness, or Satya in the Sanskrit, is perhaps now more than ever a revolutionary act of courage. Satya is also the second yama in the eight limbs of ashtanga yoga—it’s right at the top of the list (right after ahimsa, or non-violence): is just that important. To be truthful requires more than correct transmission of facts; authentic honesty is really about inquiring and understanding the reasons we might feel threatened in the first place, and exploring our underlying proclivity to lie. The yogic call to action starts, as always, primarily with ourselves: it requires us to sit with, name, and acknowledge the uncomfortable elements of our vulnerability that make it so easy for us to fabricate alternative realities. When we take the time to home in on the truth of why we feel threatened enough to paint reality a different color than what it actually is, we might find the courage to speak our truth, simply by taking time to be with what’s here right now. Somehow when we acknowledge what is in front of us, it stops being so scary, so foreign. As we practice investigating and expressing our own truth, we become more aware of our tendency to prevaricate and when and why we do it. Our human penchants are primarily based on repeated action and habit. The more we do something, the easier it is to do until we start doing otherwise and build the opposite inclination. Imagine, for a moment, how much more intimacy we can experience in our relationships if we create a commitment to truth, which, like most commitments worth keeping, it isn’t an easy undertaking. Truth, it turns out, isn’t for the cowardly.

 

The results of our commitment to satya

As we deepen our commitment to honesty with ourselves and with members of our immediate community, our capacity to be with truth expands to our outer personas. We then start to realize the necessity for a world filled with honest communication, and recognize the importance of the accuracy of facts on a larger scale. It is then that we might take the time to do those little-but-now-imperative things, like fact-check an article before we post it to social media or become educated on the veracity of media sources we read. As a result of our exploration into truth, we fortify what Carl Sagan so aptly called our “Baloney Detection Kit” , and we start to become watchdogs—not only of our own consciousness and our ego’s fragility when it is tempted to tell those “little white lies,” but also of institutional dishonesties. Sooner or later we become aware of the toxicity of dishonesty, and we become committed to truth on a greater scale. In this way, honesty becomes an act of resistance, both on a personal level against the fragile ego that wishes to coddle itself at the expense of others, and against greater movements that thrive off the oppression and deliberate spinning of truth for its own gains.

The teachings of yoga remind us that truth, like lying, is a habit. Yet truth, unlike lying, requires the very courageous commitment to the exploration of our easily triggered egos and a curiosity to explore what lies in the depths of our vulnerably. In other words, a commitment to truth calls us to transcend our habitual, reptilian, combative brain and instead operate from a place of consciousness, both personally and socially. It’s in this space that true presence arises, and we become free.

 

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: satya, truth, yoga

Is There a Difference Between Yoga and Yoga Therapy?

June 28, 2017 By Jennifer Brilliant Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: therapeutic, yoga, Yoga Therapy

Yoga is an ancient practice of harmonizing the body with the mind and breath using physical poses, breathing exercises and meditation. At its most practical level, yoga is a process of learning about oneself. Ultimately it can lead to self-discovery, self-mastery and self-realization. Sounds therapeutic, right? Yoga therapy is a process of empowering individuals to progress toward improved health and well being through the application of the teachings and practices of yoga. That certainly sounds like yoga.

 

So, isn’t then all yoga therapeutic?

If not, is there a difference between what we all know as yoga and yoga therapy? There are distinctions and two organizations — the Yoga Alliance and the International Association of Yoga Therapists — are trying to define them for us.

The Yoga Alliance (YA) and the International Association of Yoga Therapists (IAYT) are two separate nonprofit membership trade and professional organizations for yoga teachers and yoga therapists, respectively. Their voluntary registries recognize teachers and schools who’ve received a certain standard of yoga and yoga therapy teacher training.

Twenty years ago, the YA created standards for yoga teachers that required each Registered Yoga Teacher (RYT) to have a minimum of 200 hours of Teacher Training. Recently, after years of developing their own training standards for yoga therapists, the IAYT has begun certifying yoga therapists with a requirement for a minimum of 1000 hours of training to become a certified. So there’s a big difference in the amount of training each organization requires for certification.

Skill Sets or Where the Mat Meets the Floor

One area where the difference between yoga and yoga therapy can be appreciated is in the actual class setting. Most yoga teachers thoughtfully prepare multiple sequences for an entire class. Each student coming to class does the same poses and breathing practices all together, like one big happy yoga family. Because each class has some variety in the level and experience of the students, yoga teachers offer as many modifications as possible while keeping within the pace of the class. Often yoga teachers manage the music and lighting for the room and help direct bodies and props like a good traffic cop. It’s a real feat of coordination to create a seamless experience for the students.

The yoga therapist, however, gears the practice to the individual and guides them within the framework of what each student wants and needs. So rather than the yoga student fitting themselves into the same poses and sequences as everyone else in the same class, a yoga therapy student does a practice that is customized for them.

What Makes Something Therapeutic?

Yoga and yoga therapy do seem and sound similar. All yoga is therapeutic to some degree. But not every teacher, class, or practice would be considered yoga therapy. The main difference between the two is that a yoga therapist applies the techniques of yoga with knowledge about a specific problem, experience, and intuition to help alleviate that problem (whether it’s physical, mental, and/or spiritual). Among the many challenges and situations that yoga therapists often face are working with people who are managing conditions like cancer (as well as the side effects of cancer treatment,) rheumatoid arthritis, depression, PTSD, diabetes, osteoporosis, recovery from injury or surgery, and chronic pain.
The physical tools used by yoga therapists can be different than the traditional props used in most yoga classes. In addition to standard yoga props like blankets, blocks, and belts, a yoga therapist might pull out other things not often used in a typical yoga setting, like chairs, sand bags, dowels, and even rubber balls as props.

Not Every Pose Is For Every Body

Yoga has become so popular because it really is a great thing (which is why everyone should do it.) Yoga therapy is a part of the broad, deep path of yoga and especially suitable for anyone with aches and ailments. My own path has been an eclectic one, now going on nearly 40 years, where I have been a professional dancer and dance teacher, a practitioner and teacher of yoga, a student of pilates and the Alexander Technique, a personal trainer and a yoga therapist. It’s all good!

As we reach a certain age, it’s smart to be concerned and aware about our life condition. But if you’re thinking that yoga is not for you because you might hurt your back, or knees or shoulders, think again. It may just mean that yoga therapy is in your future.

 

Certified Yoga Therapists in Brooklyn: www.iayt.org

Studios offering Yoga Therapy classes: Samamkaya Yoga Unio Iyengar Yoga Institute of Brooklyn Laura Staton Urban Zen

University Level, Masters in Yoga Therapy: http://www.muih.edu/academics/masters-degrees/master-yoga-therapy

List of Accredited Yoga Therapy programs: http://www.iayt.org/?page=AccrdPrgms

Accessible Yoga Conference 2017 http://accessibleyoga.org/conference.html

 

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Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: therapeutic, yoga, Yoga Therapy

Life as Yoga Series Part 2: The First Sutra and Modern Separation

November 1, 2016 By Tatiana Forero Puerta Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: disconnect, mindful, mindset, practice, presence, separation, Sutras, yoga

Upon opening the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the very first statement we read is: Now the teachings of yoga. Like many sutras, there is more than meets the eye here. A sutra is a succinct statement or aphorism that was deliberately created to be short so that it may be easily memorized and so that its meaning might be dissected through study, reflection, and chanting. Much like a bullet point in a lecture, the sutra itself is the tip of the iceberg of a larger point being made. Sutras are a lot like poetry; there is a lot packed into a limited space. As a result, every word is intentional–every word matters. The brevity of each sutra is purposefully done to facilitate unpacking this meaning.

When the Yoga Sutras were first written down (prior to being written down they were part of a rich oral tradition), many other philosophical texts already existed. As a means to clearly differentiate the subject of a particular text, it was common for treatises like the Yoga Sutras to open with a definitive statement that addressed the topic at hand. In this case, we are dealing with the subject of yoga.

Yoga, as I mentioned in the opening article of this series, is a word that etymologically most resembles our English word for to “yoke.” As such, the subject of what we are about to delve into is the yoking/joining/uniting. This begs the question: What then is apart/disjointed/separate?

This is where the philosophy becomes relevant and tangible. The sensation of precariousness in modern life is clearly evident. Both national and international news are filled with stories of pain, anger, and anguish. In my own social circles I’ve heard many voice fear and anxiety about recent events that seem to highlight the darker aspects of the human condition. Even the very basis of our political structure––a two-party system––is demonstrative of precisely what the sutras are referring to here: separation. Said simply, we all tend to abide in a space of separateness, and this is true on many levels. The degree of separation we experience within ourselves is then reflected by our actions and behavior. As a result, the state of separation on a large scale is most obvious in the current social upheaval––the internal reflects externally, or as the aphorism goes: As within, so without. This means, necessarily, that the greater social suffering we are experiencing is only possible as a result of smaller, more personal suffering or separation. We are, after all, a part of a greater canopy, a stitch on a larger quilt of humanity, and our actions as well as our internal states have an effect on the whole quilt. There is a deep and relevant truth here and we can see it clearly when we take a look at any of the perpetrators of recent tragedies--their actions, which affected many, many people, were all based on one fundamental and ultimately flawed assumption: separation. We cannot hate or attack that which is united, that which is ourselves; we can only harm that which we believe is different from us, that which we believe is separate. The recent tragedies we’re seeing are a result of the separation mindset. 

The Yoga Sutras, then, are a text about the space within our consciousness which we are all very familiar with, and how to yoke, unite, and bring it back together. Or, more accurately, how to recognize the falsehood of separation. As such, the wisdom and techniques presented by the yogic wisdom are not a religious or prescriptive code to follow blindly, but rather a guide into ourselves, our experience, and our consciousness. In using them, we aim to create real, palpable change, and live more cohesive lives, so that our experience of the world is more united, and less separate. As a result, we create bonds instead of  weapons; we heal, instead of harm.

The Sutras, as a manual of self-knowledge made of an organized system of techniques, gives us the first clue into creating that unity in the most simple of places––the first word of the first sutra, “now.” The first place where separation seeps in is in the here and now; our first line of disconnection is in the present. We live in a world of texting-while-doing just about anything. We reach for our smartphones the second we feel bored. We are rarely whole-mindedly, whole-bodily, wholeheartedly here for ourselves or for each other.

The first homework of the Yoga Sutras in the very opening line is simple: practice presence now. This begins by noticing our degree of presence at any given moment. Notice the times you are tempted to reach for a phone when you are engaging in another activity. Notice the times when you are tempted to disconnect from a conversation mentally. If we can commit to deepening our presence even slightly, we are committing to taking the first step into the realization of a deeper existential truth we will continue to explore––the truth of our underlying unity.

Filed Under: Bending Towards Brooklyn (Yoga) Tagged With: disconnect, mindful, mindset, practice, presence, separation, Sutras, yoga

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