There are no problems, only lessons to be learnt and solutions to be found

I had a bad case of the wobbles last week.  And I don’t mind admitting it.

It’s almost been two months since I came home to Norfolk, so perhaps it appropriate that I share this latest phase of my journey now.

London and I had a passionate affair, lasting 4.5 years. When it was good it was amazing, when it was bad it made me want to shout and scream and slam doors.  When we were friends, we were the best of friends – going everywhere together and doing everything. When we weren’t, London was a bitch. That’s how it is.

In the end, if felt like I was on a rollercoaster. A really big rollercoaster with lots of loops and turns and upside down bits, as well as flashing strobe lights and an epic sound track. In the beginning it’s really, really fun and you want to keep going faster and faster. Then it gets a little ugly and you want to get off, turn green and are eventually sick on your limited edition Converse that you bought in Carnaby Street and had customised in Camden.

I’ve long since known that I didn’t want to the advertising thing anymore, purely because it conflicted somehow with who I was – who’d I’d become. And, it was getting in the way of yoga. It was getting in the way of me being who I wanted or was meant to be.

So I left, turning my back on what I knew. 

Now I am in Norfolk.  Home of the NFN, AKA, Normal for Norfolk – you can Google it. It requires extensive explanation.

Despite its reputation and despite stumbling across the occasional ‘special case’ I’ve actually met some amazing and awesome and wonderfully supportive people. I love being close to my family and words cannot describe the freedom I feel jumping into the car and driving 30 mins to the beach.

And yet, I still have the wobbles.

I believe this is partly down to LDS or London Decompression Syndrome. I’ve spoken to other people who have had it and they survived.  If they can, so can I!

Symptoms include;

• Sleeping a lot, often at random times during the day for hours on end (sea air anyone?)
• Being generally frustrated at driving everywhere
• Being generally frustrated with people who have never left the county
• Being generally frustrated at peoples low expectations of life/themselves
• Being generally frustrated about peoples negative attitudes (yes, you get these in London too, but there’s also a lot of very proactive people)
• Being generally frustrated
• Seeking out places you can get a decent Flat White
• Wondering what exactly people do here apart from work and watch TV (I haven’t figured this one out yet)
• Wondering exactly what you’re doing here
• Wondering what people do for fun… or even if they know how to have fun (yes, this one is cruel and probably unfounded, but I’m just going to say it anyway)
• Feeling like you’ve stepped into a parallel universe
• Feeling like you’re trying to kick a crack habit – London is fuelled by adrenaline, remove that and you’ll feel like you’re on the worst come down you’ve ever had.
• Getting excited by the site of cow/sheep/horses in a field 

Added to my own personal woes is not having a dedicated practice space for yoga.

Hmpf!

So I guess I better slope off back to London then, with my tail between my legs, right? 

Wrong!!

I won’t give up! I just won’t.

Yes, I may be compromising on certain things. Yes, I may be frustrated by certain things, but that’s the way it’s going to be if I want to live outside of the M25. And I do!

I think I’m entitled to have the occasional wobble. Starting again isn’t easy. After all, I basically have absolutely no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going with this. But that’s ok. I think, maybe I am getting closer. And perhaps, that I don’t need to know. I just need to trust and find the strength and the courage to keep going. One step at a time, one day at a time - sow small seeds and watch big acorns grow as my mother would say.

In the space of 2 months I am now teaching 7 classes a week. Some of them are a success, some of them are teaching me what works and what doesn’t and each and every one of my students teaches me something.

Finally I am getting to do what I have wanted to do, for so – sooooo – long. Sharing yoga and the joy and peace it can bring cannot be underestimated.  It’s the best feeling in the world.

It’s been a long and winding road that has brought me to this point and I know it doesn’t stop here.

8 weeks ago it was all deadlines, project plans, packed tubes, budgets, bottoms lines, problem solving, briefs, strategies, cocktail bars, creative concepts, HTML, Javascript, and PHP.  Now its asana, pranayama, meditation, philosophy, physiology, anatomy, charity events, country drives with the top down, rustic pubs and sunset strolls on the beach.

I know which I prefer!  

I am running my own business  – and this is just the beginning. I have vision and ambition and being a project manager and working in an advertising agency just doesn’t have a place in my life anymore.

When I teach, I don’t feel like its work. I do it because I love it and it feels like comes naturally – flows through me. Rarely do I plan a lesson but teach intuitively based on the needs and feedback I get from clients.  

Right now I am earning less in a week that I did in a day in London, but what I get from it is worth so much more than money.

I think it’s very difficult to earn a living as a yoga teacher (especially outside of London) – unless you’re Kino MacGregor (or similar). You do need something else to back it up , to release the pressure of needing yoga to keep you in your customised Converse. But this much I knew and am working on plans B and C.

Living outside of London, where people’s perception of life and how to live it is curious and interesting, especially (dare I say it in the UK where we’re not always the most positive bunch) but I don’t want to be one of those people who can only live in a capital city because they need to be constantly entertained.

Teaching yoga is both exhausting, humbling and fulfilling. Yes, there’s a lot of people who still think it’s stretching and those that just build it into their health and fitness routine because they read in some magazine it’s good for you – but we all start somewhere.  It’s up to me to share and educate folks on what yoga can be and give them the tools to get there.

As for my wobbles. I’m really rather grateful to them for giving me the opportunity to check in and renew my determination to never give up and not turn back!

Creating change is tough. It takes a strong stomach and an even stronger heart, sometimes you just have to stand your ground and hold your nerve!

Problems are never really problems, only challenges sent to test us, to help us see things differently, gain new insight, learn our lessons and bring us to new points of clarity and into new ways of being.

I feel like I’ve turned a corner. Burnt a bridge (or two) and going back now isn’t an option.

I’m still not really sure what I’m doing, where I’m going or where I’ll end up but that’s ok. 

It’s all part of life’s great adventure. In the words of (most) Indian's I have met 'Ma'am, anything is possible isn't it!' I would always choose the unknown over the known. 

For now, I just keep forging ahead, looking for a new way and keeping my eyes (and my mind) open to opportunity.

The path ahead will become clear, it always does. And if it doesn't, in the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson I'll go where there is no path and leave a (dirty great) trail!! 

Why ‘doing yoga’ isn’t the point of doing yoga

I went out running last week. It was a beautiful morning and without somewhere to get up and ‘go’ for yoga I can’t help feeling a little caged and contained, resulting in a general aversion to practice or a lot of corner cutting without the appropriate level of focus.

I guess it’s just another symptom of ejecting myself from London and missing having a dedicated Mysore space. It’s been irritating me and it’s affected my practice, causing me to lose focus.

So I decided that on this particularly Wednesday morning I would take myself off for a little woodland jog. I used to be a big runner before yoga came along – every morning 6am without fail I’d run along the river in Norwich, from New Mills Yard where I used to live down to Pulls Ferry and around the Cathedral. Then when I moved to London it used to be Hampstead Heath. I lost count of the amount of times I’d go out for 30 mins and 2 hours later return hot and sweaty and knackered but happy. There was something very special about running through the woods at dawn.

In the absence of Hampstead, Mousehold Heath is a reasonable substitute – the view over Norwich from the Prison is almost as pretty as seeing London from atop Parliament Hill (ok, well not quite but it’s nice nevertheless).

5 minutes in, pre-occupied with how the sun shone through the branches and leaves above paving my way through the undergrowth, I tripped, stumbled and suddenly noticed the ground closing in.

I crashed down on a rock and skidded down an incline. Unimpressed I picked myself up and muttered at the inconvenience of it all – determined to have my run – and prepared myself to carry on.

My knee had other ideas. Upon closer inspection I realised that there was a significant chunk of flesh missing. 4 stiches, 3 hours and 1 ‘I’ve been a good patient’ penguin sticker later I sat on the sofa a little crest fallen, wondering ‘How am I going to practice yoga now?? I won’t be able to do it!’

‘I won’t be able to do that’ is something I hear all the time in class, now I’m a teacher.  There are many that exclaim in exasperation ‘I just can’t do yoga – I’m not flexible enough…’ or ‘I’m not fit enough’… ‘My body wasn’t built to do that…’ and anyone who has ever had to work at anything (or watched Flashdance) has probably found themselves saying the same thing at some point.

But let me share a little secret with you. The point of yoga is not to ‘do’ yoga.

There is a yoga sutra that goes a little something like this…(1.14) When that practice is done for a long time, without a break, and with sincere devotion, then the practice becomes a firmly rooted, stable and solid foundation. (Sah tu dirgha kala nairantaira satkara asevitah dridha bhumih).

The truth is, Yoga doesn’t care how flexible you are! It’s not interest in who you are. It is completely disinterested in your age - your postcode - your salary bracket... All those things that we usually allow to define us in everyday life DON’T MATTER!

You see yoga is a process. An unfolding. An unravelling. It returns us to who we are, by showing us who we really are, beneath all that noise of mind chatter and ego.

Not being able to do something is one of life’s greatest teacher – as is injury. How we react to things, how we approach that which we can’t do, how we feel, breath and move out of our comfort zone reveals to us something about ourselves, that perhaps we did not know.

Practice takes time. Anything that is worth while takes time! The important part is showing up, breathing, flowing and surrendering ourselves to whatever happens – with wholehearted acceptance. Over time we shift, our practice changes – challenging ourselves is the only way to truly grow. Yoga requires mental strength as well as physical strength, which won’t happen over night.

We have to let go. We have to lose ourselves and forget any expectation we have, in order to allow ourselves to be fully present.

Patanjali talks about this in the Sutra’s through the concepts of Abyasa (Practice) and Vairagya (non-attachment).

One compliments the other - Doing yoga is less about achievement and more about putting in the work, without attachment to the outcome. (And, enjoying the ride!)

When I first started a consistent Ashtanga practice I remember having real battles with my ego. Hauling myself through rounds of Sun Salutations that refused to flow, getting hot and bothered when my hands wouldn’t bind in Marichyasana C (let alone D) and bursting into tears every time I tried to do a headstand.

I would come to the mat with this attitude of needing to attack my practice, as though it were an enemy to be conquered. My body, my will - against it. I think that this is pretty much how I’d always pushed myself through most things – all the running, the daily spin classes… whatever else I decided I needed to accomplish, I simply tore it to shreds and I got a kick out of that. But, there was no respect there: for it or myself.

I often ask my students to take a moment to tune in to themselves, feel into their bodies and check in with their mind, then honour how they’re  feeling on that day. After all, there are lots of factors that affect how we feel and our bodies change daily, as does our practice, depending on how much sleep we’ve had, what we’ve eaten, stress, mental attitude, the moon(!), how physically fatigued we are and where you are in your cycle (for women), etc.

 It’s important to respect if we feel tired or sleepy, over-active or energised, and practice in harmony with that. After suffering from Chronic Fatigue and injuring myself on numerous occasions, I think I have now (hopefully), finally, learnt my lesson.

I realised pretty early on in my practice that if I was going to have any hope of progressing I really needed to become unconcerned with progress itself. So, I made an agreement – whatever happens on my mat is of absolutely no concern to my ego or my mind. Then I let go. 

It wasn’t a golden ticket or a quick fix – because the truth of the matter is, I will always be learning. But it allowed me to side step my mind and look at thing more objectively… both on and off the mat. And soon I found I stopped labelling things good and bad – this or that – and began accepting it as experience and learnt from it… both on and off that mat.

So, for anyone thinking about starting yoga, I would urge you to drop this concept that ‘doing yoga’ is the goal. It isn’t. Just begin. Take that first step towards something new. Sow the seed of intention and then let it all go. You will see yourself grow.  Yoga will bring you back to yourself, return you to your true nature and help you discover your true potential.  It is the practice of self-realisation.

Things take time and training. Guru-ji isn’t famed for having said ‘Practice and all is coming’ for nothing.

Although I have had to stop asana practice for a week or two, on account of stitches, I’m really rather grateful since they’ve made me appreciate my practice all the more and come back to it with fresh insight.

So here are a few things to bear in mind when you begin yoga;

1.       Focus on being present

2.       Breath

3.       Let go of expectation or expectation

4.       Surrender to the moment

5.       Keep practising

6.       Set your sights on where you want to be, but then accept where you are

For more details on new classes in Norwich visit; www.Samyamawellness.com

Beginners Mind - I'm a yoga teacher now

I taught a class the other day, on the theme of childish playfulness. 

I had a room full of yogi’s pulled funny faces at one another, walked around the room in a forward bend making ‘Beep, Beep’ noises played bumper cars, blew raspberries and gave themselves permission to fall when practicing balances.

It wasn’t typical for a class of mine. I teach Ashtanga Vinyasa, so usually it’s all about breathing big and deep and getting warm and sweaty, but I had chanced upon a playgroup earlier that day and had been utterly and profoundly inspired by a child’s ability to be completely and utterly absorbed by what it was doing.  And it made me wonder, just how wonderful it is to be that young; to find joy and delight in everything as if all of it were marvelous. To get up and keep on running, keep twirling,  keep cart wheeling, no matter how many times we fall.

So, I asked my class, putting the silliness aside, to approach their yoga practice with the same presence a child might. To look for something new and unseen in every posture, every breath and every moment, even if they’d done it a million times before, to transcend the qualities of their minds that told them their bodies wouldn’t bend that way and to leave their adult concerns behind.

It was a fun class, but for me there was also a lesson in it. For so long I was afraid of letting go of my old life and falling, for fear of failing. I was afraid I was a terrible yogi and somehow wasn’t made of the same stuff as a ‘proper’ yoga teacher.

For me Yoga teachers were always the thing of fantasy – someone else, but not me – mythical creatures, that rode around on a white Unicorn enlightening all those around her with a simple nod of the head and a quiet, humble ‘Namaste.’

My initial encounter with yoga was in a gym where, despite a boisterous kick boxing class next door and the rhythmic thud of people pounding the treadmill, I found myself in a place of utter calm and clarity.

From that first moment about 12 years ago something about yoga sparked my curiosity and I continued to practice on and off, like most folks.  It tended to wane when work got crazy, which was really when I needed it most.

Then something happened. I started to have this feeling that I was missing something. That whatever I was doing wasn’t quite right.

What I was doing was working as a Digital Project Manager within the advertising industry, building big budget web stuffs – where I was fulfilling a childhood ambition of working with big brands doing important things, while trying to look glamorous.

When I first got this – let’s call it an ‘itch’ – I quit my boyfriend. Then I quit my home town. I took off travelling to the furthest reaches of Tibet, Nepal and Thailand – and that helped for a bit – when I got back I was determined I need to ‘help’ people and decided the way I should do it was by working for a charity. This dutifully manifested itself when I first moved to London and was lucky enough to land a job (still in advertising) working with Oxfam and NSPCC… I literally thought all my Christmases had come at once. I threw myself into work and partying and making the most of everything London had to offer – I soon forgot all about yoga, unless it was outside a pub on a street corner somewhere in Soho (I’m telling you… it happened!) and I was on my second bottle red wine. To be honest, I think I was a bit of an arse. I was certainly pretty far up my own arse, I can tell you. I had a reputation as a bit of a ‘ball buster’ famed for my ability to ‘Get shit done, no matter what the cost’ (which probably means I wasn’t always very nice) and juggle at least 15 projects at once.

Then the ‘itch’ returned! Only it was worse this time. I ignored it and convinced myself I was happy and everything was fine. Then I woke up one day and couldn’t move – I mean, literally couldn’t get out of bed. It was terrifying and I soon realised I was suffering full scale burn out. I couldn’t go to work, I looked like crap and walking to the corner shop made me feel like I was going to pass out.

Remember that scene from ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ where Liz Gilbert is in a pile on her bathroom floor, praying for a way out of her own life? It wasn’t quite like that, but it was close enough that I can sympathise with the girl.

It’s a long story from that point to this, but the short version is this - during the subsequent weeks I spent either on the sofa or in bed I began to question everything, including who I really was.

Slowly but surely I began to realise I wasn’t all the things I had previously thought I was, or defined myself by, and bits of my personality and strips of my ego began to fall away – until there was just me; the me that had always been there and always would be, that could not be defined by a job, or a postcode, or a salary bracket or a boyfriend.

During this time there was a little voice inside my head urging me back to yoga and to start meditation. I figured I had two choices. I either commit myself as insane or I listen to it. Western medicine didn’t seem to be able to offer me any answers, so I listened… and thank God I did!

I began to drag my sorry, knackered ass to yoga once a week, but it soon turned into every day.

Yoga gave me the thing I felt I was missing. It helped me connect the dots somehow and made me feel more alive than anything else ever had. Ever could.

Then I began to notice my life change. The more I did yoga, the more my lifestyle choices altered to favour veggie food, quieter past times and genuine people and friendships. Meat and booze were now off the menu and my idea of a late night was being up past 10.30pm, as it interfered with my ability to rise at 5am to take a bus and two tubes to get to Mysore practice.

It wasn’t long before the ‘itch’ – this unidentified longing, this horrible, empty yearning of a missed something – was replaced by the ‘call.’ And I remember the exact moment it happened.

I came back from yoga class and for some reason I was sitting starring into my own reflection in the mirror (I’d probably been trying to squeeze a spot – I was doing a lot of detoxing around then!). I was looking at my own eyes and as my face faded away, I somehow saw beyond what I knew as my physical reality and that there was something behind my eyes that had long since known what was in store. It knew the score. 

In an instant I knew there had always been yoga and that this was somehow intended for me. That it had always been my highest intention to be drawn to yoga and to learn and experience as much as I could and then share it with others.

I always say that I didn’t find yoga, but rather it found me.  Once I recognized it, there was little I could do to ignore it. I needed to become a yoga teacher and from that point on, it was never a case of if or when, but how am I going to do this?

2 weeks later I was enrolled on a British Wheel of Yoga Foundation Course and had booked flights to Thailand, where my journey thus far would deliver me to my first Teacher Training in Ashtanga Vinyasa later, that year.

I’d like to say it was smooth sailing from there on in, but I’ll be frank the next few years were a roller coaster. I didn’t let go.

200hr Teacher Training was an awe inspiring and humbling experience. It gave me a fantastic grounding in yoga, but I knew it wasn’t the end. I became acutely aware that yoga is a subject as vast as the ocean and that if I dedicated a life time to its study, I would not even hold a cupful of knowledge, barely a drop!

When I returned to the UK I taught a little, but I got scared and had spent all my money, so I went running back to London and advertising with my tail tucked firmly between my legs, because as hard as it was to go back, it was what I knew.

It wasn’t long though before I was experiencing the same level of stress, ill health and general sense of disillusionment. I had been determined to keep up a consistent practice and teach yoga in my spare time, but the reality was I struggled to fit in my own practice let along find the time to teach others.

So I arrived back at square one as the ‘itch’ returned.  It returned at approximately 4am when I found myself sleep deprived, after a particularly testing project, trying to kip down on moth eaten sofa in the corner of a warehouse, feeling like I might have a heart attack or a nervous breakdown or both, all in the name of shifting more computer games consoles that I didn’t give a stuff about.

It was a familiar feeling by now – the ‘itch.’ And it felt like the only thing harder than leaving would be to stay. So, I dutifully packed a bag, gave notice at work and trekked off to the mother land to re-connect with yoga and the practice that was my salvation.

I still knew I wanted to teach yoga – that beneath the fear of not knowing enough or not being good enough – it was my passion and my calling.

So whilst in India I made a promise to myself to just try. To take a leap of faith, that would be required to make this work. To stop thinking and just do it! I rationalized that as much as I didn’t feel ready to unleash myself on a group of uber-third-series Ashtangis I had something to share with someone.

The beginners mind is a funny thing, but it’s important to remember that your students are your greatest teachers and that you will always be a student first and a teacher second.

I don’t think that I’m the best teacher in the world, but I’ve managed to side step my own fears and doubts and insecurities long enough to start giving it all a good go. I know what I know, because it’s what I have been taught and what I have experienced for myself. Like anything, theory and study is all very well and good, but the true way to get better and to learn is through your own experience.

Teaching yoga is something that I do now – that is my reality, rather than a dream. I find it rewarding think there’s something rather beautiful about giving something to someone that will (hopefully) make them feel good.

I’m glad I took the leap. Sometimes, in life we just have to close our eyes and jump, without knowing where we’re going to land or that there is something beneath, to catch us. It’s like those children, from whom I drew so much inspiration that day – we have to keep running and we have to let ourselves fall, but just because we fall it doesn’t mean we fail or should stop trying.

If I was to give anyone who was thinking about becoming a teacher advice – it would be simple;  

1.Listen to your heart. 

2. Find a decent course with a recognized, passionate and credible teacher. 

3. Practice, practice, practice. 

4. Always remember you are a student first and a teacher second. 

5. Begin! Don’t put off teaching, just start something! 

6. Remember what you’ve learnt, then let go.

Namaste… ;) It feels like I've come a long way! 

Now, where did I leave my Unicorn??

Join the Yoga Revolution

I’d been in Goa just a matter of hours and although I had embarked on a self proclaimed mission to progress my yoga practice that I didn’t know where it would take me, I knew I was in the right place.

Just the day before I’d been sitting at home on a cold, wet, windy winter morning in London, homemade chai in hand, contemplating the excel spreadsheet of potential yoga centres I’d compiled (Insert > Tragic!) dreaming of the tan and enviable pretzel-practice I’d surely acquire. I had wondered if my travels would take me to the infamous Rolf & Marci or Brahmani Yoga in Anjuna with its wealth of humbling & impressive teachers or if perhaps I would end up in Mysore, at the source, or moving South to the back waters of Kerala for a slower, more soothing Sivananda experience.

I had not expected to spend the entire trip on a small but perfectly formed slice of paradise, sweeter than a sweet lime soda and more homely than one of those soppy stray dogs you end up surrendering your breakfast Paratha to. But here I was, having stumbled across a hidden gem of a yoga school on Patnem, I found myself sweating, grunting and sobbing (yoga does that) my way through practice whilst a transformational shift occurred challenging my perception of what yoga meant to me under the guidance of Kranti.

"Kranti the revolutionary"

Kranti means revolutionary and he is certainly making waves amongst the yoga community in Southern Goa and all that train with him.

Enigmatic and charismatic, he is the embodiment of a living Yoga master; one that drives a pretty awesome motorbike & smokes the occasional cigarette.

To quote a fellow student of mine ‘One month with Kranti will turn you into a wet over-cooked noodle.’ I believe this was intended to be complimentary.

At the age of 32 Kranti has been running the Chakra Yoga School, which specializes in Ashtanga Vinyasa and his home-grown brand of ‘Kranti-yoga’ for 4 years after a life time of learning, which began with Satsang – spiritual lectures & discussions - with his beloved Guru at the tender age of 8 close to his home town in Dongargarh, central India.
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From our first meeting I knew that this was the teacher I had been looking for. His enthusiasm and energy was boundless, matched only by the sarcasm and razor sharp wit on display as he showed me around his sun filled Shala.

Stepping through the gate (to keep out sacred cows) beneath some Christmas tinsel (to keep out Santa?) I first notice the warmth and peacefulness of the space.

Set beneath cashew and coconut trees it is decorated with floating coloured muslin, wall hangings of Shiva, Ganesh & Krishna and tiny, twinkling lights & candles which provide the perfect setting to go deep within. There is chai on tap and bananas if you want them, hammocks for snoozing in and little lotus blossoms growing in water butts.

“Remove your shoes & your mind here”

At the steps to the yoga platform you are kindly reminded to ‘Remove your shoes & your mind here’ – so I did.

I had done a 200 hour teacher training 2 years previously, had good intentions to teach, but discovered that 200 hours felt like a drop in the ocean. I found the experience all very humbling & despite a very thorough training, I felt overwhelmed at the vastness of the subject of yoga - how could I call myself a teacher now?

I needed this trip to feed my appetite for yoga, to quench my thirst for knowledge so I could gain the confidence I needed to make the leap from the career in advertising I had invested in for 10 years to Yoga Teacher and make a few life changing decisions.

I was very conscious that I didn’t feel I could take myself seriously as a yoga practitioner. I was not a Sanskrit scholar, I’ve forgotten the names of certain postures, I can’t get my leg behind my head, I’m intimated by anyone that has been to The Ashtanga Research Institute and I don’t necessarily follow the Eight Limb philosophy – despite trying (sometimes).

It’s very challenging in the modern world you know. I mean, how can you consistently practice Ahimsa when you’re in a packed tube carriage on a Monday morning and someone treads on your toe, spills their coffee on your freshly laundered white shirt and doesn’t apologise? You’re going to get mad and all sentiments of non-violence and compassion will escape you!

And, I felt enormously inadequate because I have never been to Mysore despite it never really appealing – joining the throngs of Ashtangi’s practicing nose to tail alongside hundreds of others (all of whom would inevitability be better than me!) taking themselves so, very seriously.

I needed hands on – I needed someone to push me further, deeper than I could push myself.

“Be careful what you wish for”

Well they do say when the student is ready the teacher will appear and I found myself thinking that perhaps I should be more careful what I wish for because suddenly there was Kranti climbing on me to adjust my posture for the hundredth time that day and shouting ‘More, more – go more. You can go more.’ I could always go more. All of us could always give it more, even when we thought we couldn’t.

Kranti had a unique way of unlocking our bodies, casting aside our minds and pushing us deeper, harder than we ever thought possible whilst injecting a tremendous sense of fun into it all.

He teaches the traditional Ashtanga method, but in a more unorthodox way, which I’m sure is red-flagged as controversial in certain circles, with just as much discipline that is to be found in Mysore and ten times the attention. TTC & Intensive courses are structured in such a way that you will find yourself doing Mysore self practice & workshops, focused on progressing your practice, strengthening & opening the body and focusing your attention, on alternate days – such as back bending, hip opening, Jump backs / Jump throughs – all of which are structured around Primary Series postures to improve your practice at rocket speed faster than you can say Spirulina Smoothie.

“Find your edge, then go beyond it”

Despite teaching the traditional method, he is not insistent that you are perfect in one posture before giving you the next. In fact, to the contrary he encourages you to give it a go – and the results speak for themselves – more confident students, a great can-do attitude and a posture-perfect practice in no-time at all. Nothing is off limits with Kranti – his philosophy is to let you find your edge and then takes you beyond it.

With great satisfaction he admires his handy work in the surprise on our faces when we find ourselves deeper in a posture and more focused than we thought possible.

He made me reconsider what yoga was to me. Having been stuck at Kurmasana for months, I suddenly found myself doing full Primary without any struggle. He made me realise I could go further, much further than I thought possible and taught me that there are no “ can’t do’s” in yoga and that we should not think so hard about things, in yoga and in life – ‘It’s very easy’ he tells me – ‘Put all that thinking energy into doing.’ He showed me that rules can be broken, that new heights and highs of practice can be found and within them a new level of peace and devotion will be revealed.

I was able to leave behind all misconceptions of what I thought my practice should be like, who I should be as a teacher and with a quiet acceptance, simply be.

We all try so hard to be good students by clinging to an idea of what yoga should be (which can get a little fanatical and pretentious) in the hope that it will make us a better person and deliver us to the door of enlightenment that we miss the point altogether.

In the west we’re very good at doing what we’re told, rather than thinking for ourselves. We all set out on our journey with differing motives, seeking something. But in our desperation and hunger to fast track to the end goal we forget to savour the process and let it evolve from within.

“Yoga is whatever you want it to be, for you.”

Allow me to let you into a secret. Yoga is whatever you want it to be, for you.

All too often we’re so eager to apply a set formula for spirituality, following it with great discipline and exerting great effort to make ourselves feel more secure without ever really understanding why we’re doing it or really wanting to.

The result? We find ourselves restricted and repressed by a list of rules, do’s and don’ts, should and should not’s that only serve to create conflict and confusion within us because we are trying to intellectualise our intentions instead of following what is in our heart. We are silencing our inner teacher because we think that someone else knows better. Let me tell you, no-one knows you better than you know yourself so if you don’t feel like doing the 15th Vinyasa what will happen if you don’t? Do you really think the things you seek will be withheld from you?

Life is simple. Sometimes we choose to make it hard. It’s a problem. The fundamental difference between many eastern philosophies and the western way of thinking is the West teaches us to cram, to intoxicate ourselves with information overload, so we can make better decisions, better choices. The East says empty your mind.

From a place of emptiness anything is possible. Enough with the rules – let go – on and off the mat!

As children we are conditioned from a very early age to conform, to fit it, to remember these facts and figures, because it makes us clever and that is what we need to find our way in the world in order to make sense of it and avoiding the fact that maybe it just doesn’t make sense at all.

We are told to sit still and shut up. Yet this does not bring us stillness or silence within. We are taught to be seen and not heard. Yet it does not teach us how to see. We are told we should feel bad, but it doesn’t teach us to feel and all it does is breed insecurity, stunts self-belief, freedom of expression, creativity, and self-knowing and we grow into adults who have no idea who they are or how to be.

So really the key to all of this is to let go -allow ourselves to be. To not judge ourselves based on someone else’s rules and to make the most out of every single moment by recognising it’s all we have, and that all we can do is sow the seeds of intention and nurture the soil from which yoga can grow so that we become established in our own hearts and minds.

With this knowledge my practice shifted. My life, shifted.

Kranti does not preach yogic philosophy, but whilst under his guidance he asks his students to commit to one thing – to give up one thing – and see where that leads. He imparts on his students a sense of perspective – reminding all of us to begin with the small and let the big things take care of themselves. After all, how often are we guilty on thinking six steps ahead of ourselves and worrying about the bigger picture, without thinking about the small stuff? The small stuff counts!

So from now on I am planning on living my life exactly the way I want to live it, from the heart, with love and compassion and a lust for life front and centre, in the pursuit of fun and the pursuit of my passions, from a place of authenticity, without trying to be anything to anyone – that is yoga to me. And with regards to teaching? It’s no longer about me or my insecurity. I now know I have something that I can share with someone, so why not try.

Watch this space.

Further info…

Kranti runs 200, 300 & 500 Yoga Alliance accredited Teacher Training Courses and weekly Intensive training courses seasonally from October to April at the Chakra Yoga School in Patnem, Southern Goa and can be found running a series of workshops across Europe during the summer months.

For more information visit http://www.krantiyoga.com/

Is the internet making us stupid or the next step in human evolution?

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning. I have a pot of coffee and a pile of books by my side. All I need to do today is relax. Yet, I’m not.

There is a mechanical failure taking place in my brain that keeps niggling at me that there is something else I should be doing instead and the answer to what that is can be found online.

So I sit, expectantly with Facebook open allowing the constant thought stream of others to dominate my own. Helen has toast for breakfast and is planning on going for a run… (perhaps I should go running?) Andrew is listening to the Stone Roses… Susan just read such an such an article… Angela looooves her boyfriend so much (vomit)… Barry’s cat just coughed up a fur ball (double vomit)

It’s like a disease, this need we all feel to advertise and glamorise our day to day lives. Tell me honestly, why should I give a shit?

I am a big advocate of Facebook from the perspective it enables you to stay in touch with your friends and family around the world. It keeps you connected (on some level). It aggregates content from various sources of (arbitrary) interest making it your own person news feed...Or am I confusing it with Twitter (Don’t get me started on Twitter). But for everyone else we see it as our own personal shopping channel, using it to sell ourselves, to project our most favorable image of who we want to be perceived to be to everyone else so think we’re so cool, funny, exciting and likeable.

We use Facebook as a social support network, reaching out to others through the magic of cyber space opposed to reaching out to those around us. We replace human contact with interfacing with our interface and end up wasting hours, days and years of our life that could be spent on other, more intelligent pursuits.

Image the days before Facebook. They weren’t so long ago! We used to think of other ways to connect with one another and to spend our time. I seem to remember my grandfather saying the same thing about TV.

But where does our fascination of how one another spends their day to day moments come from? Is it because we’re so bored, so unstimulated by our own lives, so underwhelmed by our own reality that we feel the need to become part of someones by becoming a silent (or not so silent, depending on how much you comment or share) witness.

Facebook is making us all emotionally retarded because we can only express ourselves in 4 sentences or less and we compose something that is a suitable copy line for sharing.

Google, Wiki, Maps… all of it is killing brain cells and compromising our intellectual integrity because we can find instant answers. We have all of this information at our finger tips and we use it as a constant guiding source in our life, as if the internet was the creator of all everything.

Don’t know something, you Google it. Need to check some facts – go to Wiki. Can’t find somewhere – map it.

We will never ever come up with anything new is we’re all so busy searching for answers via search engines.
We have so much information available to us and we spend so much time trying to cram it all in does it not cut our creativity, the ability to think for ourselves, to rely on our own instinct and our own intelligence?

I used to have a curious fascination with Facebook and the impact it has had on modern society. It has provided us with a tool through which we’re all tangibly connected and I can’t help wondering if that is serving us as a reminder that we are all interdependent and can have a constant channel of communication & dialogue with one another – without the use of a computer - and that someday soon this concept of interconnectedness will leap off the pages of the internet and reinstate itself in our psyche.

It is suggested by certain research institutes and smart people that think about this stuff that the next step in our evolution (or devolution, depending on where you stand) is that we will all re-install and upgrade our own telepathic communication program thus rendering Mark Zuckerberg redundant. I guess we’ll see.

The internet has already affected our brains in the way that we consume information and the attention we give it. Generally we skim and filter, which is shortening our attention spans and decreasing our ability for spontaneous, deeper thinking.

There is chunky argument to suggest the media (that we create) and consume influences what we think, our attitudes and our beliefs. And, we all know that what we think we become.

Some of the most intelligent societies & civilization are those that have been cut off from mass media over the centuries and still live off their instinct, in harmony with nature. Just a thought.

Now I’ve written this I am going to post it on the internet and share it on Facebook.

I could say more - like how the internet isn’t really real – how anything digital isn’t really real – that it’s just stuff we made up to occupy us, stave off the boredom and mind numbing oblivion of our own reality and how it is just another system for ensuring the mass media message is front and centre, making us afraid and telling us what to think and how to feel to ensure we stay afraid and don’t step outside the little box we don’t realise we’re in and start questioning what life should be about and actually thinking for ourselves. We think we’re so clever to have all of this technology around us when actually the most intelligent thing we could do sometimes is turn it all off and go and sit under a fucking tree. But perhaps that would be pushing it.

You know you’re in India when…

You say a silent prayer whenever you’re in any kind of motorized transport that attempts to overtake anything.

The traffic jams are caused by a cow in the street

You take a walk on the beach & climb over some rocks to sit at the waters edge. You notice a funny smell & realise that you’ve sat down near some dog poo. You realise it isn’t dog poo & promptly run away.

You sit to meditate to the setting sun and… (delete as appropriate)… no-one bats an eyelid / you open your eyes and find all the beaches stray dogs have gathered around you & a random chicken / you can’t actually keep your eyes closed for longer than 5 minutes because the scenery is too pretty to miss.

You’re not the only one on the beach with an OM tattoo.

Everyone is smiling (apart from English people. English people insist on being miserable).

You try to sleep through the Saturday night trance party. The music stops and the dogs start barking. The dogs stop barking & the cockerels start crowing.

You wonder what kind of animal, vegetable or mineral will slip through the cracks in your bamboo hut and pay you a visit in the night.

The Yoga TTC going on in the Shala next door is being conducted by the ‘Inappropriate Yoga Guy’ – long hair, deep tan, tight pants… (If you haven’t seen couples retreat please Google it immediately). ENCOURAGEMENT! (I had to stifle my giggles by claiming I chocked on my Chai)

You’re Indian yoga teacher tells you to ‘Feel Yourself’ when he means become aware of yourself.

There are an unusual amount of S’s on the end of words unnecessarily, which are usually preceded by ‘the’ ie. The Luggage’s, bring the feet’s, please be taking the coconuts (there was just one), take the wash’s and fresh (also known as the bathroom)

Everyone’s Chakras are aligned… man.

You get chatted up by a 25 year old Nepalese waiter.

Lunch is a chopped up Pineapple & a freshly fallen coconut from the road side stall behind your beach hut.