Looking over my scrapbook

I’m very excited that I’ll be launching my new website very soon. This one’s been good for me; it’s just time for a little pre-Christmas tidy up, complete with new shoes and hair.

What’s been so fun is going back through all of my content over the last couple of years. I get to immediately associate where I was at that time and what was going on in my life, a bit like looking back through a scrapbook.

It’s true that when we’re on this journey that we often don’t take time to look back and admire the view. That’s because we’re always thinking that we have to move forward, to get further, higher, deeper, whatever. I am very guilty of this particular desire. It’s almost as if we have to “schedule in down time” as my friend likes to call it.

That in the end is a bit like skipping Savasana. It feels like it shouldn’t really matter, however, it’s the thing which matters most, the pose which is most challenging and most transformative. Plus, it is so honest to goodness de-lic-ious.

Me and my mat

My husband just asked why I insist on keeping such a clapped out old yoga mat. I guess it’s because we’ve been through a lot together.

We only got together by mistake because I left my other one somewhere on a train between Brighton and Lewes. I hope someone picked it up and loves it just as much as I did.

We’ve been together in Cornwall, Chalk Farm, Copenhagen and even on honeymoon in Crete. Aswell all those other places which don’t begin with C. Most of the time though, you’re happy to hang out in the spare room waiting for the next practice.

You have two foot prints from a thousand Addho Mukka Svanasana, Plankasana, Chaturanga Dandasana, Urdva Mukka Svanasana and back to Addho Mukka Svanasanas. And a few black marks from writing class plans in flow.

You’ve supported me in Addho Mukka Vrksasana Pincha Mayurasana, Sirsasana, Sarvangasana, Halasana, especially in my less than elegant dismounts. Not to mention a hundred luxurious Vipariti Karanis.

We’ve spent all of our training hours together. Including when we almost split up because you wouldn’t let me hide under you and escape my final teaching exam.

You’ve been rolled out, rolled up and flung in a corner countless times. Yeah, I think we’re going to stick together a bit longer yet. You know too much.

Celebrate good times!

It's been a brilliant couple of weeks, whole montage of human endeavour and emotion which the whole nation has got behind and supported. It's been an absolute pleasure.

Now we get to hit the pause button and just celebrate a little bit. It's so often that we don't allow ourself a moment to enjoy. Hands up who's skipped out of Savasana early? Yep, me too.

So I declare this week at week to simply bask, rest on your laurels and hang out in your favourite restorative pose for as long as you please! Enjoy, there's the rest of your life for working!

Today's post is brought to you by the number 7...

It’s 3:42am on 8th July 2012 and I’m called on to write, I will not be able to rest until I do. I have never wished to speak about my experience on 7th July 2005 while I was going to work except in the most private of situations and I don’t wish to express it now. We all have our stories that we all carry with us. Our experience, like tiny shards of coloured glass, make a stained glass window for light to stream through in the most unique way. It is who we are, this experience is part of who I am as much as everything else which has happened to me. It is me.

Seven appears to be symbolic. Seven anniversaries have passed since what happened that day. These seven years are bookended by my country winning the Olympic bid and now being ready to deliver The Games. Seven years and my body has completely renewed itself of all its tissues. I am literally a new person. Yet I still carry the experience in every fibre of my being. What I left behind on that train made space for me to carry what my friend and hero once described as my 52 silent friends.

Words never really seem enough and yet, words are sometimes all there are. Always when I have felt like I had nothing left to give, I reached out for help. When I thought there was no help, I reached out. When I didn’t know I needed help, it came. While I sit here now I realise I had the words, they already exist and have done for centuries, they dropped into my head this morning and have been repeating themselves in my mind all day.

 

लॉका समस्ता सुखिनो भवंतु

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bavantu

"May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and my the thoughts words, and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and freedom for all"

May -  this is my intention. I may not get it every moment of every day. However, in the act forgetting is the act of remembering. I will ease up on myself when sometimes, oftentimes I miss the mark.

All beings everywhere - even just within myself this asks much, yet this is what I truly believe I am being asked to step up to do. Can I accept all parts of myself: the part which forgets, the parts which gets angry, the parts which I try and hide. All of me. And all beings, that’s harder still. Every single being is here because they are meant to be. When I don’t except parts of me, when I pretend some beings are separate from me I become disconnected. When this happens, the darkness has won. If I miss one of those shards of coloured glass, light cannot shine fully through me. Therefore, I welcome and acknowledge all parts of myself and all beings.

Be happy and free - It is our nature to be happy and free. Even on days when it feels inappropriate or our outward expression cannot be one which is joyful. We are in the uniquely privileged position of a human birth. Happy and free is what we are, this what we are meant to be. This is the light which shines through the window of my experience. Even when my window gets dirty and the light isn’t so bright, it is always there. I will shine my light.

And my the thoughts, words and actions of my own life contribute - thoughts, words and actions are powerful. Thoughts are unmanifested words, actions are words becoming reality. What I think, say and do is important. I choose to the best of my ability to choose my thoughts, words and actions carefully with the knowledge that I am happy and free, just like everyone else.

In some way - “No man is an island, entire of itself. Each man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main” - John Donne. My thoughts, words and actions make up part of the consciousness of humanity, a part of our collective stained glass window. We are many and we are one.

To that happiness and freedom for all - As much as my nature is to be happy and free, so is it every other being on the planet. Every single one. To ignore one is to diminish all.

To my 52 silent friends, I carry you with me always. And I set this intention for you.

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bavantu

Honour and trust

We had a heavy rainstorm a couple of weeks ago which lead me to reflect on how a change in weather can change our mood and perhaps, in this case, be an opportunity to clear away some stuff which I’d been ignoring while the sunshine is out. I’m always grateful for these kind of changes, yes, even sun to rain as it allows me the opportunity to reconnect with what’s happening around me, rather than simply go with my will. This doesn’t mean that my practice is any less intense, when I get on the mat I mean it. However, I can mean it in different ways, ways which respect the cycle of nature and my own body’s cycles.

Of course, it takes time to understand what it is exactly your body needs and wants and not for it to be overtaken by the thinking minds: ifs, coulds, shoulds. However, what I’ve found is that when I actually honour these cycles, far from being diminished or held back (which is my usual reason for wanting to plow forward) my body is so much happier that my practice seems to take care of itself without my interference. Of course, this is trial and error and there’s a sense of trust and learning through playing. That’s the joy, that’s when we allow ourselves to be held by grace that’s when we get the bliss, ananda.