Meditation and cake

I went to a meditation class today which runs once a month at our shala - after meaning to do it for ages (but always forgetting, or being busy the day it was on) a chance conversation over breakfast meant that I went along with two friends to the second class of the year.

I'm always a little scared of the idea of meditation classes, feeling like the urge to run screaming from the room is going to arise approximately six and a half minutes into a two hour class - but at the same time I have been feeling the desire for ages now to learn more techniques and to make the time and space to sit.

With mats arranged around the room facing into the centre (having come in late) I found myself beside the teacher, an older German (I think) lady with beautifully coloured hair, a white outfit accessorised with fabulously blingy heart-shaped earrings and a soft sing-song accent.  Before we began she spoke a little about meditation, and I loved what she said (I'm paraphrasing...):

Don't let enlightenment be your goal. Sure, if you really want to then by all mean go for it, But for me, meditation is about learning to cope better with daily life without being thrown off course by the things that come our way. And also to be able to make other people's lives a little better by the way I interact with them.

She also spoke about just building in time throughout your day to sit, don't think about extended periods as finding several spots of time to sit for 5 or 10 minutes through the day can be really powerful. Something which made immediate sense to me was when she described her day as rushing here and there, teaching morning, lunchtime and evening classes meaning that she comes home a lot during the day - and immediately that she closes the door and feels relived to be home, she feels more demands on her time. Given my new work situation which means that I am working from home, going out to see people and coming and going quite a lot,  I realised immediately that when I get home from a halfday trekking around and am exhausted, sitting straight down at my computer to catch up on all of the emails that have accumulated while I've been gone is maybe not the most productive approach. Instead, if I take the time to sit just for 5 minutes before I stick the kettle on and head for my desk, I'll most likely find I feel more refreshed and less pressured than I do right now. So far so good.

We then lay on our stomach, becoming aware of our breathing, before spending some time in childs pose, again putting awareness into our breath, and then moving through some gentle seated stretches to prepare us for sitting. All the while she spoke in her lovely soft way, encouraging us to concentrate on our breathing, and making everything seem incredibly accessible and taking away the mystery. Halfway through the 2 hours she suggested a bathroom or water break before we moved on to the sitting portion of the class, and even though I know I can do it I felt some anxiety when she said we would sit for 5 minutes at a time - it sounds like such a long time to just sit! But of course it is more than doable, I can sit happily for almost 15 minutes and do so every Friday after our Led class, so this is very much a case of my conscious mind trying to tell me I'm not capable of something which I absolutely am.

As we neared the end of the class I found myself feeling very sleepy, and when given the option to lie down I was there and wrapped in my blanket in no time at all. After a very heavy feeling savasana where I completely forgot where I was, the class ended with her suggesting we might like to stay for tea and cake. How much more perfect could this be!

Feeling very chilled and more than a little spacey, J, A and I shared green tea and cake before heading off for an early dinner at our favourite veggie cafe. It felt rather strange to emerge from Yoga Place into the darkness, instead of arriving in the dark and leaving in daylight, but seeing the sun set in the shala as opposed to seeing it rise was a lovely and welcome change. The next month's class will be when I am away but I'm definitely looking forward to attending more of these classes over the coming year, and am already feeling inspired to take time to sit on a regular basis. What a wonderful way to spend Saturday afternoon!

My bedroom windowsill (complete with gifts from Susananda and The reluctant ashtangi!)

If I only had a heart...

It seems like forever since I blogged...and since I practiced...sigh. Life gets in the way sometimes. But not having active practice angst (I'm sure it'll be back tomorrow!) I'll return to a topic I keep meaning to discuss.

So here's my problem - I am beginning to wonder if I have even got a heart chakra.

Apparently backbends are emotional and all about heart opening (n'est-ce pas?) but thus far, no emotional content for me in the dropbacks - not that I can say the same about the history of my practice, there have been plenty of tears there. Witness my mad meltdowns in triang mukha (thankfully now behind me) and many other emotional outbursts in the past. No it's not that I'm concerned about lack of emotion (and frankly in my life off the mat, often it's more the case that I am too emotional). The issue is this - when I started learning the chakra meditation in Thailand, after a couple of days I could really feel those spinning discs, and the energy moving up the central energy channel and moving into each chakra - until we reached the heart. Maybe it's because it is a less specific or obvious physical area than the throat, or the third eye, but for some reason I would just lose it once we got to that point (only to regain it as we moved on up to the throat). Some days I could feel the heart chakra whilst being guided in the internal sunrise meditation but if the instruction was to sit afterwards allowing our focus to return to the heart - nope, it was gone.

Having tried this chakra meditation a lot since coming home from Thailand I continued to have the same issue - and any "heart openers" I tried left me with the same issue. Of course my brain went crazy over this - what could it mean?? Am I actually a heartless witch? Does it mean that I've got everything locked up inside and I'll never get through the stone walls I've built to protect my heart? Oh yes, full drama-queenitus comes out to support this idea whenever I think of it. In fact, the only time I have ever spontaneously felt anything going on around my heart chakra was in my new year chanting workshop, and again when I returned the following week. So at least I know it's possible, and perhaps this heart activity was responsible for feeling amazing for 3 days after the workshop? I don't know, but if it was, I really want to find a way to tap back into this. I feel a bit like I'm in a constant state of running up the down escalator at the moment, battling to figure out what is right for me in my lifestyle (and I think I'm probably getting it all wrong) and I need all the help I can get. So maybe heart openers are the key - any suggestions?

Meanwhile I'll keep worrying that my heart has turned to stone, and getting this song in my head every time I start to worry about it...

And yes I disapperead into an internet wormhole looking for a clip of this...and can I say I rather enjoyed the mix of appallingly bad and weird amateur productions, versions on ice and spoof videos of the Wizard of Oz (having established that a version from the original was impossible to find!). AND I discovered that the original tin man actor almost died from inhaling aluminimum powder, went to hospital for months of recuperation, and got replaced while he was there! Bastards!!

Starting small

Last night I went along to a kirtan workshop which was followed by (what was described as) an open meditation class. I have been to the kirtan classes at this studio before, though not for a little while, but my efforts with meditation have up until now been limited to segments of ashtanga workshops or retreats. 

I had some doubts about going along for this class as it talked of bringing a notebook to set our intentions for the year, and the full write-up suggested to me that I might end up digging up some emotions I have been trying to avoid. Silly me, of course, in that any emotions I have been "trying to avoid" have already come to my attention, but that's another story. I love (love love) kirtan but have had some emotional responses to it in the past, and I suppose the truth is I was feeling a little too vulnerable for the full force of this at the moment. So I realised - what better time to face up to it?

I hadn't booked after calling in the afternoon to be told there was no need, but arrived (late) to discover that the room was already over capacity (it takes 35 people, they had already allowed 41 in) and there were three others waiting (and another lady arrived just after me). I tried to hide my disappointment but the manager was upstairs seeing what she could negotiate, and happily came down 5 minutes later saying it was OK, we were all in....so rather than having "too many" people there, we ended up with a fabulously well-attended roomful of like-minded souls ready to welcome in the new year :)

The bolsters and blankets were set up in a double horseshoe in the room facing the lovely teacher leading the chant (with harmonium and drummer standing by) with several rows of people behind on each side, and those on chairs lining each wall, but as I love to be surrounded by sound I was happy to spot a free space right in the middle of the second row and tip-toed in just as the first chant was about to begin. And of course I had nothing to fear... 

The sound was incredible, on a usual Saturday class there are around 12 people, so with 4 times that many I couldn't hear my own (admittedly horse) voice; I was not a drop in the ocean, I was the ocean. And the experience was incredible too - and indescribable. Thoughts rose to the surface; vivid memories of walking with a former love in his home-town, instead of banishing the painful memory I allowed it to surface, I let it sit there, I let it rise up and float free. I felt my heart swell, I cracked it wide open. I made space for those I want to send loving energy to. I set my intention to send healing energy to the person in my life who needs it the most. I felt love. And then when the kirtan was over, the meditation class began (and my fear...). But again, there was nothing to fear; the teacher talked a little about our posture, about meditation techniques. He explained a meditation technique as "the car you drive to the temple - but you still have to get out of the car and enter the temple". He told us that we would be meditating with the mantra om namah shivaya. 

He continued to speak for a little while after telling us to begin, and I found myself wishing he would stop talking so that I could really focus. He stopped talking. I repeated the mantra. I had an enormous coughing fit and had to take a drink of water, conscious of the disturbance to those around me. I put the bottle down, immediately regretting not drinking more and convinced that the tickle in my throat was so bad that I was going to throw up. I repeated the mantra. I noticed that people around me were beginning to fidget. I felt pride that I was sitting completely still. I repeated the mantra. I started to wonder how long this was going on for. Maybe I could sneak a look at the clock - but it was behind me. I repeated the mantra. I found some stillness and let the mantra slip away. My mind wandered, I brought back the mantra. I wondered again if we would be doing this for half the class and something else for the second half - we weren't really just going to sit for 45 minutes uninterrupted were we? I repeated the mantra. I wondered what sort of value for money it is to pay £12 for a class where you sit in silence? I repeated the mantra. I noticed the fidgeting around me again. I felt proud (again) for staying still. And then it was over.

And that was the whole class! I actually sat for 45 minutes - UNBELIEVABLE!! Considering my previous attempts have hit a maximum of about 10-15 minutes, this was quite a big difference. And when he suggested that we take a few moments to reflect on our experience, my overriding feeling was this: I sat and judged other people. "Listen to them fiddling and fidgeting while I sit here nice and still." Not exactly a great emotion (hello ego!) but at least I recognised that I was doing it. But as I walked out of the class and took the hour-long journey home, I felt still and calm with a clear head. Reading my very most favourite book on the way home (Awakening the Buddha Within by Lama Surya Das - which I started reading again over Christmas) certainly helped keep my mind focussed, and getting up to practice this morning I still felt calm and centred - and practice today was deliciously focused. All of which made me realise that meditation is something I really really need to find the time for in my daily life. My plan? To cut down the (enormous) amount of time I spend online, and replace it with this much healthier activity. And over post-yoga breakfast today a plan was made to start attending monthly meditation workshops, which should give me the support and motivation to start sitting regularly. 

So happy New Year everyone, here's to a calm and balanced 2011, whatever your intentions may be! :)