“NYC – Rudest City in the World” or so a recently publicized poll claims. As a resident for 18 years who is raising her 2 small daughters here, I challenge that statement!
I grew up in the metropolitan suburbs which was very different from city life. I went to college in a typical university town in upstate New York. I traveled the country 3 times with various theatre tours, and I married a man from a small town in Wisconsin. So I’d like to think I’ve been exposed to a fair amount of different living styles.
There is no doubt that the way we live, here in NY, is crazy. To say it’s crowded is a hilarious understatement. With the crowds come noise, filth, long lines and an absurd amount of time waiting with strangers. It’s enough to turn you into a monster. It certainly makes you shed the phoniness and puts you in touch with that primal part of you that needs to protect itself. The way I see it you either get out, or you learn to deal with it and accept it. You are forced to coexist with people as they really are. You are forced to become tolerant.
In New York we rarely sequester ourselves in a private car or residence. Most people use mass transportation and share some living space with dozens, sometimes hundreds of people. The people you are surrounded with are often not ones you have handpicked because of likemindedness and cultural similarity. We are constantly engulfed by people of different ethnic backgrounds, varying economic means and lifestyles of every conceivable type. Yet, for the most part, we manage to not kill each other and even get along!
I think one of the reasons New Yorkers are perceived as being rude is because in order to survive we often need to have our “blinders” on. There is so much stimulus on our path to work or home that we must be selective about what we let in. With countless panhandlers, political/social fund appeals and predators of varying types we are discriminate about who receives our eye contact and attention. With all the beauty, ugliness, brilliance and garbage that assaults us as we live our lives in this city of excess we learn to be efficient with our energy and offerings.
The other side of this primal instinct is the ability to perceive and make space for that which is worthwhile. It’s like living back in the jungle again. Your instincts guide you.
This was most profoundly obvious to me once I became pregnant. I’ve gone through 2 pregnancies in New York city. Through both I was working and running around all over the city often using mass transit. I found New Yorkers to be exceptionally kind and helpful. I was always offered a seat on the bus or train (usually by young men in the ethnic minority). People would notice my pregnancy and brighten at the idea of new life and light coming into the world. They would try to connect with me and the joy of what I was experiencing. Since then, as a mother with small children I continue to receive help in the form of strollers carried, doors opened, dropped hats picked up and kind words to me and my kids.
I often observe gracious New Yorkers offering their help to tourists. I’ve seen the warmth in their smile as they welcome a visitor to “planet New York”. And I see the pride in their eyes as they confidently explain how to transfer from the N to the 6 train or how to find the Guggenheim.
And although we may not “coffee talk” with every citizen who sits beside us on the subway, we’ll move our bag or our leg over and try to respect that person’s personal space. And we won’t sit in judgement over how different he or she might look from us. We’ll actually probably enjoy it!
One of the things that gives me a thrill is when the guy with his pants fastened under his butt cheeks, the lady with her face stretched so taut it looks like it might snap off her skull and hit you in the face and the suit with his smartphone up his nose collectively holler “back door” so some poor slob can get off the bus in time. Now that’s compassion!
To the visitors of New York we say “This is who we are, isn’t it gruesomely fabulous?” To our fellow citizens we say “You’re as crazy as I am, and I love you for it!.”
As a parent of a NYC kid who is likely public school bound, I have recently had the “privilege” of enduring standardized testing and observations of my daughter. This is mostly due to our interest in various gifted and talented programs. I’m sure it does not compare to the private school hoops that one must have to jump through. We experienced a mini version of that when we were looking for preschools. We are now at that all critical stage of kindergarten selection. Oh, the hopes! Oh, the dreams! Gag me with a spoon.
I’ve observed myself and my fellow parents (some close friends, some strangers met while biting fingernails in eager anticipation) in the course of a single conversation turn from grounded relaxed nurturers to anxious lunatics dissecting our child’s ability to compose photographic studies of his blocks or engage in analytical conversation during circle time. I can’t stand myself, let alone them.
How do we allow ourselves to put so much stock in these outcomes? But then again, how do we not? From the moment that precious unspoiled individual comes into being we begin to dream. We see that magnificent clean slate and imagine all the possibilities. Sometimes knowingly, we pour our own unrequited expectations onto these little shoulders. But these are shoulders that have countless years ahead of them before they can even take on their own expectations.
They are a product of us. We can’t help but see them as a reflection of ourselves. We want them to have every opportunity because we know how important it is to be in the right place at the right time. We want them to be around people who will see them as we see them; with invaluable gifts waiting to be drawn out.
We love them so much. And we are responsible for them. We MUST guide them in the right direction.
Ultimately it’s all about control. Or the lack there of. Again.
So what should we do?
First of all, step back and gain some damn perspective. Second, take a deep breath. Then…
I think we have to do our best to take an honest look at who this child really is (so far!). And them move gently in a direction that feels right in our body, mind and soul. And then let go of the outcome. Release it into the ether and trust that the right fit will materialize. And if it doesn’t then you’ll work with what you get. Because it’s unlikely that the quality of a life will be determined at age 4 or 5.
What is the average yoga student to do after reading some of the scary scenarios presented in last Sunday’s New York Times article? The article, in which a prominent yoga teacher claimed that yoga is not for an average population, explored some of the extreme physical risks of practicing yoga. As we all know, yoga’s popularity is growing at record speed. It takes on countless different forms, all falling under the heading of yoga. Although some of these forms may be far removed from the Indian origins of Hatha Yoga, I think most, at least contain a seed of that primary intention. And that intention is a path to one’s potential as a manifestation of the divine.
The physical, mental and spiritual benefits of yoga have quickly reached an astounding number of people, changing their lives, I would argue, mostly for the better. To blame the yoga, when the responsibility really lies with the practitioner, leaves me feeling sad and disappointed. My gut feeling is that the benefits have far outweighed and will continue to override the injuries. What I really look forward to is more specific research being done on the subject.
There is no doubt that yoga has it’s risks just as running, weightlifting or playing a sport has it’s risks. But one thing that yoga offers, that the other activities may not, are the tools to decipher what is appropriate and when. Both veterans and novices alike, can experience injuries from the physical practice of yoga. Extreme poses like headstand and wheel could certainly wreak havoc on the spine. Even a relatively simple downward dog has the potential to cause problems on certain bodies at certain times.
But first, as yoga always teaches, you must move with awareness. That begins with awareness about what studio, what teacher, what style and what level yoga you choose to practice. It’s true there are an overwhelming amount of choices out there today. A symptom of our current culture. It may take much trial and error to find the right fit. And, if one is truly practicing with awareness, that fit may change as the practitioner changes and grows. There are different lessons to be learned at different times in our lives. Therefore there are different kinds of yoga practices for different stages in our lives.
Yoga encourages us to diligently work toward balancing our efforts with ease. This requires a tremendous amount of constant awareness. The adjustments can be so subtle. If we want to improve and continue to grow in our practice we need to learn how to fire up the effort just enough without allowing our ego, or even distraction to push us beyond our range of ease. Even the most experienced yogis may have moments where they struggle with this. It’s very easy to get swept away by the mind and it’s incessant thoughts:
“God, My Bird of Paradise pose is exquisite!”
“I’m not going to let that 25 year old in front of me, show me up!”
“I wonder what my husband is making for dinner tonight.”
This discipline and attention to detail takes time to develop. But ultimately there becomes a gentle and constant pulsation of effort versus ease. Like a Grandfather clock pendulum that starts out with a grand arc. Eventually that arc hovers around your own version of center ticking away the microseconds of your breath.
Awareness of the breath is probably the single most important tool for keeping mental focus during yoga practice. The breath is an indicator of effort. It is the wave that we ride. It can be used to lift us to greater heights, to soften our landings or to simply cradle us. The more we listen to and work with the patterns of our breathing the more present we are. The more present we are the more likely we are to notice when something isn’t right for our body.
One of the controversial aspects of modern yoga is the loss of the spiritual or philosophical side in some classes. There are many self-proclained yogis who argue that this is not yoga at all. It is simply another form of exercise. I will beg to differ, once again noting the seed of the divine that I believe is present.
I do, however, think this aspect is key to avoiding injury. You can’t ignore the philosophical teachings of yoga like non-attachment and non-harming (self) and expect to keep your body out of harms way. I believe that people who pursue a purely physical yoga practice, with little attention to it’s mental or spiritual teachings are in their infant stage with yoga. And it may just take an injury to bring them to that next level of awareness. Odds are they would have hurt themselves in one way or another anyway! I don’t dismiss this stage at all. For many it’s a necessary step and the amount of time a practitioner spends there depends on that individuals own journey.
Just as learning to balance effort with ease takes much practice, so does differentiating between discomfort and pain. I don’t think that is something that can be specifically taught. It’s an individual instinct that arises when the other elements are practiced. And practicing yoga requires a certain amount of discomfort. The best way that I can describe my own experiences with this, is that pain often takes on a sharp quality that does not significantly lessen with deepened breath. Discomfort is more of a dull sort of tension that softens with surrender. But that is simply my interpretation. And I take full responsibility for my perception of it. And I encourage you to do the same.
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The birth of my 2 daughters were very different from each other. Both times I had planned for a completely natural childbirth. I was only successful the 2nd time.
My first time around I was very preoccupied with the details of how the birth would go. I think that’s pretty common. Especially for first timers. It was hard to even imagine that a new person was going to be there at the end of it all. So I spent little time thinking about that, and too much time planning, worrying and wondering how the delivery would go. In my own “natural” way I was still trying to control the whole thing. I figured if I read enough about natural childbirth, worked with the right mid-wife, and applied my yoga I would have an uncomplicated and even ecstatic delivery.
Not so much. I mean, all those things helped… tremendously. I was well informed about what was happening. That, and my yoga practice kept me calm. The yoga also gave me incredible stamina and clarity. But birthing is really less of a science and more of an art form. So predictability is not often in the equation. Long story short, I had trouble dilating and after about 10 hours of “unproductive” labor my less than patient mid-wife started insisting on interventions that eventually snowballed out of my control. After begging for more time I allowed her to break my water and another 10 hours later ended up with an epidural and a vacuum extraction.
When I saw my daughter’s incredibly beautiful face for the first time I cried with joy and relief. But I mourned the circumstances of her delivery, and what I felt was the violation of my body, until my second baby arrived 3 years later.
When I found out I was pregnant again I was so unsure of how to proceed. I had been somewhat let down by my faith in the natural process, but could not conceive of any other way. I finally chose to work with a different mid-wife group relatively late in my pregnancy. I thought they were wonderful, but honestly this time, I had fewer expectations.
Although the delivery was still very important to me, I had the awareness to concentrate on the amazing prize that would be part of our lives at the end. I had distractions like visions of how my first born would respond to a sibling, what the new personality would be like and what the expanded family dynamic would be. This allowed me to relax about the birth a bit more. Loosen the grip, so to speak. And out she flew!
With my second I labored comfortably for about 4 hours in the hot tub at the birthing center. My husband and my mid-wife helped me out when it was time to push, and 10 minutes later my wrinkled little daughter was looking up at me as her proud and relieved mother tried to calm her cries. I felt vindicated! It was as if I had come full circle.
Now, I’m not saying the circumstances of my deliveries were dictated by my 2 different attitudes. I think there were many elements at play. But I have to believe it played a part.
For me, the real lesson was about relinquishing some control. And that’s something I battle with everyday of my life. It’s something that MUST be practiced if you want to remain sane while parenting. And practice it is what I try to do. I am far from a master. Loosening the grip is the idea that works best for me. Even if you can’t let go, just loosen up a bit, back off a touch. In my life with my children, I find I experience a constant pulsation of holding on too tight and then remembering to let go. My hope is that the pulsation becomes more subtle, less extreme.
It’s when we’re fearful that we clutch and grasp and suffocate. The secret is to trust. Trust your body, trust your intuition. Trust in the universe. Because what’s the other choice really? Ultimately we just fool ourselves into thinking we have control. But we are simply one part of a mighty whole.
I still struggle with the fact that it took a perfect labor and delivery to allow me to heal from the less than perfect one. I wish I were evolved or enlightened enough to have been okay with whatever had happened on the day my first daughter was born. I really felt like “HA! I showed you!” after my second delivery. But who did I show? Myself, I guess.
I think yoga philosophy tries to teach us it’s okay to be proud of our efforts and it’s wonderful to work hard at something. But it’s when you become attached to the results of those efforts that you get into trouble. How can we truly know what results are best for us? It’s really so poignant that the experience of birthing is very much like a rehearsal for raising a child. You learn and you prepare and you work hard to do what you think is right. But ultimately you have to let go and allow your child and the universe to do what they are going to do.
Some women are very clear about their desire to work or not work after having children. I think it’s fairly obvious that many more are terribly conflicted. But even after making the decision to work, doing it is much easier said than done. And I’m not talking about logistics, like babysitting. I’m talking about your brain.
After each of my 2 pregnancies I returned to work relatively quickly. Both times my new baby was only 2 and a half months old. Luckily, I was able to start with just a few hours of clients and classes a week, gradually adding work as my baby became more and more independent. With my first child it was a bit harder to leave her. I had barely left the house at all yet. What with all the struggles with breast feeding, shocking lack of sleep and general learning curve. With my second it was a touch easier. I knew my being away was ultimately good for both of us.
As a Personal Trainer and Yoga teacher I could throw on some workout clothes tie my hair back and run out the door. When I arrived to work with a client or teach, I could bring the same calm, supportive energy I’d tried to create at home, with me. I felt infinitely grateful that I didn’t have to pull on panty hose, do any hard selling or worry about anybody’s bottom line (but my own). I didn’t have to make a radical shift from nurturing, self sacrificing human pillow to powerful, pulled together ball buster. I would easily go from nurturing my baby to nurturing my clients and students. I remember early on, nursing my first daughter just moments before I had to walk out the door to see a client. When I arrived for the session I still felt “high” and dreamy from the breast feeding hormones. I made it work for me.
I am in awe of the women who manage to juggle young children and high powered careers. It is an astounding feat to bridge those two worlds. Mothering young children day after day has a radical effect on the brain. For one, your attention is constantly fractured. Trying to read your preschooler a story while you prevent your toddler from choking on doll house accessories, avoid burning the oatmeal and text message the babysitter can wreak havoc on your ability to concentrate. After a while it becomes difficult to focus on one thing.
Mothering also requires an amount of patience and understanding that might be considered laughable in the world of business and corporations. It’s doubtful that your lead sales associate will respond to “It’s okay that you lost the account, I know you were trying your hardest. Let’s get a cupcake and think about what we can do better next time.”
I believe that most women don’t allow themselves to acknowledge this. I mean, of course they know it. Deep in their guts or their hearts or their breast. And I’m not going to go on and on about how every woman thinks she needs to be a superwoman and do it all. (Although I think that’s still true of many mothers, I believe it’s not as rampant as it used to be.) I mean that women wonder why they feel like they’re going crazy. They wonder why they don’t feel like they’re doing anything well. They wonder what’s wrong with them.
Sometimes just acknowledging that it’s hard to switch gears is enough to take the edge off. When my second child was nearing her 1st birthday I started to tell myself that soon I would need to kick it into gear. No more “lazing around the house”. We had “gotten by” financially while I took a semi-maternity leave, but I felt I wanted to help get my family to the next level. I wanted to provide my children with all the things and opportunities that I had had, and more. But I wasn’t sure what to do. I decided to meditate on it. I went deep inside my self with some yoga breathing and visualization. And I asked what my next step was supposed to be. The answer I got was “Be with your baby”.
I did that with joy and gratitude. But I also slowly began to “rejoin the living”. I started reading the newspaper again. I eased up a bit on my recent aversion to television and I started making more dates with friends and colleagues.
A few months later I felt more ready to put myself out there and pursue more lucrative and gratifying work.
The truth is that every woman is different. Some women run screaming back to work after 6 weeks of culture shock. Others miss their window and convince themselves that they are fulfilled when really they are just complacent. Then of course there are the women who don’t need the money and don’t need to define themselves through work. God bless ‘em.
Whether it’s work or not, all primary care givers eventually need something outside of the family. But it’s easier said than done. I don’t think mothers consciously choose to be martyrs. But when you love someone so much that you are willing to pull your heart out of your chest and give it to them. That’s often what you become. The key is to make that a temporary state and to also live as an example to your children. I work hard trying to model the behavior I would like to see my daughters emulate. For me that’s a fulfilled, well rounded person who takes care of herself as well as her loved ones. It’s far from easy.
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Stress Relief. The term has become ubiquitous in our culture. So although my personal training clients come to me with goals like “build up my chest”, “slim down my legs: or “improve my golf game”, that quickly shifts. It’s not that we abandon those goals completely, it’s just that those things can’t even be on the radar if you’re a big stress ball.
I’ve worked with all types ; investment bankers in their 20′s, retired attorneys, middle aged housewives. Perhaps it’s the pressure and pulse of living in New York City, but my regular clients are desperate to use their time with me as a way to escape the grind. They want to relax and reenergize. That is often when I sneak in the yoga. It’s funny that I feel the need to “sneak” it in. But there are so many prejudices and misconceptions associated with yoga. People are put off by it’s spiritual connotations. They imagine contortionist like stretches or possibly hours of sitting still doing nothing.
For a type “A” high achieving, multi-tasking personality, sitting still is possibly the scariest thing they can imagine. But it’s often exactly what they need. When a person’s head is swirling with personal dramas and to-do lists, asking them to listen to their breath is offering them a raft to navigate the rapids. They often come to it kicking and screaming.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
“keep your eyes closed!”
“Come on Paula, if you can run a presentation in front of the board, you can keep your eyes closed for 2 minutes!”
Then I inevitably get:
“My foot hurts”
OR
“What is this doing for me?”
OR
after 3 seconds of stillness…” Okay, NOW what do you want me to do?”
I try to get them comfortable, I ask them to listen to the sound of my voice, I ask them to observe their own body (without judgement!) and I guide them to lengthen their breath. Perhaps to match the length of their inhale to the length of their exhale. And then I gently nudge them toward stillness.
Stillness. That indescribable place where time stops and all that remains is now.
The first few times that clients really allow themselves to drop into stillness using yoga breathing they are usually surprised by how good it makes them feel. Even a calm and centered yoga workout does not have quite the same effect. During an active session on the yoga mat it’s tempting to go into auto pilot. It’s easy to get caught up in how sculpted your arms look in Warrior 2, or how graceful your Dancer Pose looks.
But when I ask someone to really notice how she is breathing there is no where to run and hide. Most people can’t believe how hard it can be to get a full deep breath. But when they finally quit resisting enough to let it happen there is an emotional release. Almost as if they are back in mommy’s arms. No need to try so hard. No need to protect so much. Just be with who you are.
I think people really have a hard time with the “doing less” thing. And that’s what yoga breathing ask of you. Your body wants to breath. It WANTS to breath deeply and fully. But we don’t let it! It takes a lot more muscular effort to restrict the breathing. So of course when you finally do breath deeply your relaxation response is triggered.
But it’s more than just the physiological effects. When you reconnect with the primordial rhythms of the universe; your inhale, your exhale and the beating of your heart. You allow yourself to go to a place where no earthly dramas can reach you. No board meetings, no spousal disagreements, no money problems. The space you inhabit is greater than all of that. It is the edges of the universe and the depths of your own heart all at the same time. It is here, it is now, it is always.
And that’s just inhaling deeply and exhaling deeply.
After a few of these “forced” experiences clients start requesting these types of sessions. They start using breathing techniques to calm themselves during the day, to help them sleep at night (Ugh! Insomnia is rampant in NYC!) It slows you down. It seems to slow time down, giving you a super hero like capability to think before you speak. Think before you act.
And once they are comfortable with the idea of really noticing their breath. They start to notice other things too. Like how their bodies REALLY feel. Like how their words REALLY sound. Like how the way they live their life REALLY makes them feel.
It’s amazing. Something so simple. Breath. Something so necessary. Breath. Something so accessible to everyone. Breath in. Breath out.
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