Last Saturday we ran our first mindfulness training drop-in class at ZenYoga in Camberwell. With the increasing general public and media interest in the subject of mindfulness (see the latest cover-story in Time magazine, and some comments on their interesting choice of cover photo), I'm getting more and more requests for a taster class – something where people can come and find out about what mindfulness is without necessarily committing to a longer course and daily practice.
Now I'm a strong advocate of committing to a regular daily practice (whether that be yoga or meditation/mindfulness) but I think there's still something very valuable that can be found even from a single class in mindfulness. Sure, by coming to a drop-in class now and then you probably won't
realise the full potential of what mindfulness has been proven to do
(e.g. an increased ability to concentrate, having a level of stress resistance, a consistently lowered heart rate and blood pressure,
heightened sensory acuity, etc.), but anything that increases our level
of mindfulness (even by a small amount) has to be a good thing!
Perhaps we get to see how fragmented our attention is; how difficult it is to keep our attention on one thing without getting distracted or lost in thought. That in itself is a big step forward in understanding ourselves. For some people they get a real 'aha' moment when they realise just how much they breath in their chest, and that relaxing the belly and breathing more abdominally can make them feel so much more relaxed. For others, perhaps a tip like "every time you walk through a door, pause and bring your mind to your breath and notice how it feels" can make a massive difference to their week.
For me, I found the last exercise we did in the class quite extraordinary! It was a practice of mindful speaking and listening, where we all sat in a circle and took turns giving our response to a question that was asked at the beginning. In this instance the question was "do we need to speak less and listen more?". We went round the circle twice, with the instructions: "when listening, listen 100% – don't spend the time planning what you're going to say or worrying that it's almost your turn. When it comes to your turn take at least 5 breaths before speaking, and try to respond to both the question and everything everyone's said so far." You could literally see peoples' awareness and presence increasing as we went round! Whereas to begin with people were answering from their heads, by the end everyone was beginning to look within and answer from their whole beings!
This is a deep practice that works on many levels. It encourages mindful, compassionate listening (do watch this lovely YouTube clip with Thich Nhat Hanh). It helps us notice and let go of our performance anxieties. It helps us speak not from our intellect only, but from our head, heart and belly together. The act of taking the question (and what everyone has said so far) within, and, after allowing some time and space for it to settle, speaking whatever arises as a response is akin to Zen koan meditation.
For me one of the most beautiful effects of this practice was to develop connection. Whereas up to that point everyone was practising pretty much separately, now we were practising together. Everyone got to hear each others voices, and hear their thoughts and responses, and the change in energy was magical! I think this had a lot to do with why everyone stayed for a cup of tea afterwards.
I'm really looking forward to facilitating this again this coming Saturday (10-11am at ZenYoga).
Thursday, 30 January 2014
Thursday, 23 January 2014
Sacrum - the holy bone
Credit: http://prenatalyogacenter.com |
The whole sacro-iliac area is incredibly interesting when it comes to movement, yoga, and our energetic system. But have you ever thought why the sacrum is called that? I certainly hadn't until I heard someone the other day refer to it as our sacred bone. Wow, of course! – sacrum, sacred. Is this a true connection, or just a coincidence? Why would the sacrum be sacred??
A very brief Wikipedia search shows that the name "sacrum" originates from the Latin os sacrum, a translation of the Greek hieron (osteon), meaning sacred or strong bone. So it does come from the word sacred...
In this paper researching this history of the term (yes there's even a paper on the subject!), Oscar Sugar found that in European/Middle-Eastern tradition the sacrum is associated with resurrection, identifying it as the "almond" or luz of the Hebrews and the ajb of the Arabs. The idea goes that the sacrum is the last bone in the body to disintegrate after death (it's one of the hardest bones in the body) and is therefore necessary for resurrection – it seems there are a few mentions of this in the Bible, for example in Psalms 34, 21 it says "He watches over all the bones; one of them shall not be broken". He concludes that the word ultimately derives its conceptual meaning from the ancient Egyptians who associated it with Osiris, the god of the afterlife, the underworld, and the dead.
Interestingly, according to this paper, some Mesoamerican Indian languages also named this bone using words referring to sacredness and deity, meaning that they must have independently come up with this concept. So it's not just the Europeans!
Another reason given in a few studies why it's called 'sacred' is that it's located next to the reproductive organs, which are obviously historically, culturally and symbolically highly significant! It looks like their proximity has led to people thinking that they share similar life-giving or spiritual qualities. Several cultures around the world (including the ancient Egyptians and some Indian cultures) have even believed that the sacrum channels seminal fluid through the spinal column to the penis (apparently because spinal fluid and semen are very similar in form). The great Leonardo da Vinci looks like he might've made a similar wrong assumption when he drew a seminal duct leading from the sacrum at the bottom of the spinal cord to the penis in his drawing of a man (I can't find the actual drawing on the internet though).
On a purely physical level, the sacrum bone forms the centre of support for the human bodily structure, and as such is well designed to take great physical stress. Unfortunately, if we put too much stress on it or move badly this area can be the source of much lower back pain. One of the things we work on in our yoga practice is the opening and stabilising the hips, sacrum and the SI-joint so that we can sit comfortably. This stability allows us to sit still for long periods of time, as we do in meditation.
In Indian spiritual practices, the area around the sacrum is seen as the seat of Kundalini. The word kundalini comes from the Sanskrit word 'kundal' meaning coiled up. It is seen as the primordial dormant energy present at the base of the spine in the sacrum – often visualised as a coiled snake. According to the texts, Kundalini is associated with the Divine Mother (Shakti, or the earth). One of the primary goals of traditional yoga practice is the uncoiling (release) of this feminine energy at the base of the spine, which can then travel up the central energy channel (susumna) to unite with the masculine energy of Divine Father (Shiva/Shakta, or the universe) in the seventh (crown) Chakra. This union of opposites is the essential meaning of yoga (to unite or yoke, bring together), and is a powerful symbol in pretty much all cultures.
"The word Kundalini is derived from a Sanskrit word 'Kundal' meaning coiled up. It is the primordial dormant energy present in three-and-a-half, coils at the base of the spine in a triangular bone called the Sacrum - See more at: http://www.adishakti.org/subtle_system/kundalini.htm#sthash.XV2FJOBC.dpuf"The word Kundalini is derived from a Sanskrit word 'Kundal' meaning coiled up. It is the primordial dormant energy present in three-and-a-half, coils at the base of the spine in a triangular bone called the Sacrum
"The word Kundalini is derived from a Sanskrit word 'Kundal' meaning coiled up. It is the primordial dormant energy present in three-and-a-half, coils at the base of the spine in a triangular bone called the Sacrum - See more at: http://www.adishakti.org/subtle_system/kundalini.htm#sthash.XV2FJOBC.dpufjjjjjjjjjjjj
In East Asian practices, the sacral area is associated with the lower Tan Tien (or Dan Tian; Chinese, Tanden; Japanese) literally translated as "field of elixir", and your 'hara'. They use the word 'elixir' to refer to the same kundalini energy. In practices such as Qigong, Taoist yoga, and Zen, instead of awakening that energy and just allowing it to rise up the spine, they practice balancing both the rising and descending energies (yin and yang) by learning how to move it up the back and down the front of the body in a complete circle (the snake swallows its tail). This is known as the microcosmic orbit.
So there we have it. In all our modern scientific medicalisation of our bodies we have, in our name for the sacrum, a persisting shadow of our past beliefs and spiritual practices. Our sacred bone: made of 5 fused vertebrae, the physical centre of support for our body and often the source of lower back pain when we move/lift/strain badly, necessary for resurrection, and the seat of our feminine kundalini or elixir energy.
I teach Zen yoga and mindfulness at the ZenYoga studio in Camberwell, London. See my website for my class schedule and more details. |
I'd love to hear from you
Got another take on the sacrum bone and why it's called that? I'd love to hear from you! Leave a comment below, join the discussion.Pass it on
Enjoyed this post? Then please tweet it, share it on Facebook or send it to friends via e-mail using the buttons below.Thursday, 16 January 2014
From the ground up: legs and knees
This is the second in a series of articles I've been writing with my sister Kim, a physiotherapist in Stockholm, looking at how we can best take care of our roots. In the first article we looked at our feet – our sole mates (...groan) – and how we can strengthen them and work on some common problems.
In this article we're going to look at another part of our roots: the knees. But before we get onto that, let's talk a bit more about roots.
Do humans have physical roots? This might sound like a strange question. Of course not - we're not plants...
"Root"
pronunciation: /ruːt/
1) a part of the body of an organism that grows downward into the ground, anchoring or supporting the organism.
2) the basic cause, source, or origin of something
Don't we have a part of ourselves that grows downwards, supporting us on the ground? Thousands of years of self-exploration by various sages, yogis and spiritual practitioners have revealed that there is a very important area around your pelvic floor called in yoga the Muladhara or Root chakra. It is here that our roots begin, and extend all the way down our legs to our feet (and with our mind, out of the feet into the ground). Our roots and root chakra are associated with "things of the earth" – stability, grounding, physical health, vigour, nourishment, and is the basis of both our masculine and feminine energies. This means that having healthy roots is vital for living in this world!
The knees: Locking and overextending
You might have often heard yoga teachers talking about 'locking' (or not locking) the knees. You might also have been told that you are 'over' or 'hyperextending' when you think you are 'locking'. Hyperextension of joints is in fact chronic in the yoga world.
Locking and over/hyper-extending:
The knee joint is simple – it moves in two directions, bending and straightening. When the leg is straight the thigh bone (femur) and the chin bones (tibia & fibula) should be directly aligned with one another. When we push into (or for some people, relax) into the back of the knee, this is called overextension or hyperextension. The body's weight is no longer transferring directly through the bones one on top of the other, but is 'hanging' in the soft structures (ligaments) at the back of the knee. These structures are not designed to be put under so much pressure and so this can be very damaging for your knee (see this nice article for more info).
Try: standing upright. Now see if you can 'push' your knees back beyond straight.
Hyperextended knee joint |
Knee stability:
To give the knees the most strength and stability, we need to be engaging the muscles on the back and front of the thigh. Some teachers advise their students to 'lock' their knees in certain postures to presumably give strength, but the word 'lock' implies rigidity and blockage. Really it's the opposite that we're trying to do – it's the openness, strength and alignment of our knees that facilitates connection to the ground and allows the energy to flow (see below).
Try: Come into Trikonasana (triangle pose) as our skeleton is showing below. This is a pose that's particularly tricky when it comes to knee stability – especially the front knee. We'll now try to find how to engage those muscles on the front (quadriceps) and back (hamstrings) of the thigh to help stabilise the knee.
Credit: www.bandhayoga.com/keys_knee_hype.html |
Bend the front leg slightly (as in the picture to the left) and draw your foot backwards against the friction on the mat. Can you feel your hamstrings activating? Now to find the muscle at the front of your thigh (the quad), straighten the leg again and try lifting your kneecap upwards. This should get it working.
You might need to practise this a few times to reliably find and activate these muscles. If you find it difficult try one at a time, with straight legs or bent. When you have found both muscles you can try activating them at the same time to stabilise your knee in all your postures (skeleton picture to the right). Your knee will thank you dearly in the years to come!
Knock knees or bow legs
Knock knees describes a condition where the knees fall in towards each other rather than staying neutrally aligned. Interestingly, most kids under the age of 6 appear to have knock knees, but grow out of it as their body shape changes. It can arise either structurally in the knee joint or the surrounding bones, and it which case it's just your natural body shape. Or it can arise due to a muscle weakness in the legs or hips: weak external hip rotators causing the thigh to internally rotate, weak hip abductors allowing your knees to drop in, or tight/asymmetric quads or hamstrings causing a misalignment of the knee joint. If you see someone who appears to have knock knees (particularly as they walk) and their kneecaps face inwards, then it's most likely down to muscle weakness.
Bow legs are much less common, and most often due to true structural issues in the bones. It's normal for babies to have bowed legs before the bones ossify (solidify). From a muscular point of view, bow legs can arise when the opposite of the aforementioned muscles are weak.
Unless your knock knees or bow legs arise from the shape of your bones or joint, it’s not actually the knees that are the culprit. The real culprits are their muscular neighbours: the thighs, hips and feet. The feet were the subject of the last post in this series, and in the next post we'll be looking at the top of our roots – the pelvis, hips and thighs – so stay tuned!
Knees and energy flow
Energy ('prana' in yoga or 'qi/ki' in Chinese/Japanese) flows around the body through certain channels known as 'nadis' in yoga or 'meridians' in Chinese medicine.
When our limbs are properly aligned through balanced muscles and correct posture, energy can flow like water or electricity, connecting and nourishing all the parts of the body. Locking (or hyperextending) our joints restricts this current, and like a kink in a hose, it can cause a build-up or blockage. In Qigong they say "When Qi flows freely along the meridians, people are free from illness. If the Qi is blocked, then pain follows" – so blockages can result in pain or illness (an obvious one is arthritis). One of the principles of Tai Chi and of my yoga practice is to keep the knees (elbows, and all other joints) soft (bent) for this exact reason.
In this system, the knees are one of the primary connection points between our upper body and the ground. This is why it is so important not to lock or misalign them, so that we can maintain that all-important sensitivity to and connection with the ground.
Come and join me in exploring your roots at one of my yoga classes at ZenYoga in Camberwell. See my website for my class schedule and more details. |
I'd love to hear from you
Have you suffered from leg and knee problems in the past? How have you got on with these exercises? I'd love to hear from you! Leave a comment below, join the discussion.Pass it on
Enjoyed this post? Then please tweet it, share it on Facebook or send it to friends via e-mail using the buttons below.Thursday, 9 January 2014
Sailing your ship
There's been so much rain recently that there's a chance we might soon just float away! So in that vein I've got a few watery metaphors for practice I wanted to share with you.
The what, how, and why
The first one comes from my yoga teacher Jonathan Monks (YogaMonks). He likes to connect the three main aspects of traditional yoga – Hatha, Raja, and Bhakti – to the different parts of a sailing boat on the sea: the boat, the sails, and the wind.
First a little about what these aspects are:
The sanskrit word "hatha" means wilful or forceful, sometimes also translated as "ha" meaning sun and "tha" meaning moon. As these two sounds, the word captures both the active (masculine, yang, hot, solar) aspect, and the receptive (feminine, yin, cool, lunar) aspect within all of us. Hatha yoga is a spiritual path that can be traced back to the "Goraksha Samhita" written by Yogi Gorakshanath in the 11th century and the "Hatha Yoga Pradipika" written by Yogi Swatmarama in the 15th century. It is, in the words of Jonathan, "the juxtaposition of two opposing forces to reveal the one (all emcompassing) force beneath and beyond." All physical yoga practices can be classified as hatha yoga.
Raja yoga, meaning "royal yoga" or "royal union" and is concerned principally with the cultivation of mind. The term can be traced back to the "Yoga Sutras" of Patanjali, who described a succession of meditation steps for preparing and building up to complete contemplative absorption (dhyāna, dhyana, samadhi). Basically raja refers to the meditation aspect of yoga.
Bhakti yoga is a spiritual path in Hindu philosophy for fostering love of, faith in, and surrender to oneness (or God). It's the devotional aspect of yoga, and might include practices such as listening/reading the sutras, kirtana (praising or singing), doing service, worshipping, and surrendering the self.
In this analogy, Jonathan likens the 'hatha' aspect to the boat. It's our vessel for travelling on the often stormy seas of life, and our regular physical practice helps to make sure our boat is seaworthy.
If hatha and our boat is the 'what', then the raja aspect is the 'how'. He associates this 'how' with the sails – for the boat to gather speed and follow the right course the sails have to be in good clean condition and properly rigged. The mind has to be properly cultivated in order for it to perceive clearly the winds of life, and catch them most wisely.
That leaves the bhakti aspect, the 'why'. Why do we do any of this practice in the first place? Something has to motivate us – if not God, then the wonder of life, or to become one with 'the way', or perhaps simply the wish to help others. In this analogy, bhakti refers to the wind. It's what powers us along, fills our sails and drives along our vessel.
And the water? It's life itself, with all it's waves of up and down. And what are waves? Just temporary patterns of energy on the surface of the ocean of emptiness.
Rowing out of the marina
The second little metaphor is from my Zen teacher Daizan Skinner (ZenWays.org), and relates to the stages of practice.
Let's imagine we've got a little sailing dinghy at its berth in the harbour. In order to get it out of the sheltered marina and onto the open water, we need to row it out (or I guess these days you'd most likely start up the outboard motor). As you row out, you have to be careful for obstacles and other boats, and it's slow going. But in the busy marina without any wind it's the only way.
Once you're out on the open water with a good stiff breeze, you can hoist your sails and let the wind push you forward.
Now, as we've said, it's no good hoisting the sails in the port – they would get in the way, flapping about and blocking your view. But equally, there's no use in rowing when you're out of port and the sails are up catching the wind. At best it simply doesn't help, and at worst it actually gets in the way, hindering your progress.
So you need both the oars and the sails, but for different circumstances. They need to be used wisely.
Using our oars is like putting in the effort when it's needed, like doing something on a recommendation until you start seeing the benefits. We need to row ourselves out to a place where the wind can take over and can blow us forward – doing our practice until the practice does us! The wisdom then comes in knowing when to stop rowing...
Course changes
So we've got a seaworthy boat, we know why we want to practice, and we've managed to row out of the marina into the open sea. We're up and going, cutting through the waves with the wind filling our sails. Now the course we take becomes important – are we heading to a tropical island hideaway for silence and no distractions, or to a disaster zone to help out?
Something a friend of mine very wisely said on a retreat recently: a tiny course correction right now makes a massive difference to your destination over a long journey. A half-degree course change could put you 100s of miles away from where you were originally headed. That's why setting your course is so important.
But it doesn't mean you shouldn't be flexible and change course when needed – sometimes a dramatic and unanticipated change is needed when a storm unexpectedly brews, or you realise that you're needed more at home than at the latest war zone.
Water and ice
The final metaphor comes from Zen Master Hakuin (1685-1768). Hakuin taught that Buddhas (not just The Buddha – he's referring to any enlightened being) are like water and ordinary people are like ice. We're all made of the same stuff. There's no difference, except they are in different states.
Mindful attention is like sunlight, melting away the frozen places in the body-mind. As things free up on the physical level, things open up on the emotional level. As things start to let go in our body and hearts, then our mind begins to open up and we become able to slip more and more easily into that wonderful flow of life.
Got any more? Add them in the comments below – I'd love to hear them.
The what, how, and why
The first one comes from my yoga teacher Jonathan Monks (YogaMonks). He likes to connect the three main aspects of traditional yoga – Hatha, Raja, and Bhakti – to the different parts of a sailing boat on the sea: the boat, the sails, and the wind.
First a little about what these aspects are:
The sanskrit word "hatha" means wilful or forceful, sometimes also translated as "ha" meaning sun and "tha" meaning moon. As these two sounds, the word captures both the active (masculine, yang, hot, solar) aspect, and the receptive (feminine, yin, cool, lunar) aspect within all of us. Hatha yoga is a spiritual path that can be traced back to the "Goraksha Samhita" written by Yogi Gorakshanath in the 11th century and the "Hatha Yoga Pradipika" written by Yogi Swatmarama in the 15th century. It is, in the words of Jonathan, "the juxtaposition of two opposing forces to reveal the one (all emcompassing) force beneath and beyond." All physical yoga practices can be classified as hatha yoga.
Raja yoga, meaning "royal yoga" or "royal union" and is concerned principally with the cultivation of mind. The term can be traced back to the "Yoga Sutras" of Patanjali, who described a succession of meditation steps for preparing and building up to complete contemplative absorption (dhyāna, dhyana, samadhi). Basically raja refers to the meditation aspect of yoga.
Bhakti yoga is a spiritual path in Hindu philosophy for fostering love of, faith in, and surrender to oneness (or God). It's the devotional aspect of yoga, and might include practices such as listening/reading the sutras, kirtana (praising or singing), doing service, worshipping, and surrendering the self.
In this analogy, Jonathan likens the 'hatha' aspect to the boat. It's our vessel for travelling on the often stormy seas of life, and our regular physical practice helps to make sure our boat is seaworthy.
If hatha and our boat is the 'what', then the raja aspect is the 'how'. He associates this 'how' with the sails – for the boat to gather speed and follow the right course the sails have to be in good clean condition and properly rigged. The mind has to be properly cultivated in order for it to perceive clearly the winds of life, and catch them most wisely.
That leaves the bhakti aspect, the 'why'. Why do we do any of this practice in the first place? Something has to motivate us – if not God, then the wonder of life, or to become one with 'the way', or perhaps simply the wish to help others. In this analogy, bhakti refers to the wind. It's what powers us along, fills our sails and drives along our vessel.
And the water? It's life itself, with all it's waves of up and down. And what are waves? Just temporary patterns of energy on the surface of the ocean of emptiness.
Jonathan Monks's yoga analogy - drawing by Carol from our sadhana course |
Rowing out of the marina
The second little metaphor is from my Zen teacher Daizan Skinner (ZenWays.org), and relates to the stages of practice.
Let's imagine we've got a little sailing dinghy at its berth in the harbour. In order to get it out of the sheltered marina and onto the open water, we need to row it out (or I guess these days you'd most likely start up the outboard motor). As you row out, you have to be careful for obstacles and other boats, and it's slow going. But in the busy marina without any wind it's the only way.
Once you're out on the open water with a good stiff breeze, you can hoist your sails and let the wind push you forward.
Now, as we've said, it's no good hoisting the sails in the port – they would get in the way, flapping about and blocking your view. But equally, there's no use in rowing when you're out of port and the sails are up catching the wind. At best it simply doesn't help, and at worst it actually gets in the way, hindering your progress.
So you need both the oars and the sails, but for different circumstances. They need to be used wisely.
Using our oars is like putting in the effort when it's needed, like doing something on a recommendation until you start seeing the benefits. We need to row ourselves out to a place where the wind can take over and can blow us forward – doing our practice until the practice does us! The wisdom then comes in knowing when to stop rowing...
Course changes
So we've got a seaworthy boat, we know why we want to practice, and we've managed to row out of the marina into the open sea. We're up and going, cutting through the waves with the wind filling our sails. Now the course we take becomes important – are we heading to a tropical island hideaway for silence and no distractions, or to a disaster zone to help out?
Something a friend of mine very wisely said on a retreat recently: a tiny course correction right now makes a massive difference to your destination over a long journey. A half-degree course change could put you 100s of miles away from where you were originally headed. That's why setting your course is so important.
But it doesn't mean you shouldn't be flexible and change course when needed – sometimes a dramatic and unanticipated change is needed when a storm unexpectedly brews, or you realise that you're needed more at home than at the latest war zone.
Do small changes in navigation matter? |
Water and ice
The final metaphor comes from Zen Master Hakuin (1685-1768). Hakuin taught that Buddhas (not just The Buddha – he's referring to any enlightened being) are like water and ordinary people are like ice. We're all made of the same stuff. There's no difference, except they are in different states.
Mindful attention is like sunlight, melting away the frozen places in the body-mind. As things free up on the physical level, things open up on the emotional level. As things start to let go in our body and hearts, then our mind begins to open up and we become able to slip more and more easily into that wonderful flow of life.
Got any more? Add them in the comments below – I'd love to hear them.
Friday, 3 January 2014
It's all in the sparkle
Here's a little poem that just popped out the other day whilst I was down in Dorset helping out on the ZenWays Mindfulness and Meditation Teachers Training course.
Light from the mighty fusion reactor
Created by the force of gravity
Arrives
Delicate dew drop on sharp grass edge
Oblate under the force of gravity
Sparkles
Entire universe
13 billion years old
100 billion suns per galaxy
10000 billion atoms per sun
So little known, so many questions
All understood in that sparkle
Light from the mighty fusion reactor
Created by the force of gravity
Arrives
Delicate dew drop on sharp grass edge
Oblate under the force of gravity
Sparkles
Entire universe
13 billion years old
100 billion suns per galaxy
10000 billion atoms per sun
So little known, so many questions
All understood in that sparkle
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