Cat Stretch Fever

Stories are great. I depend on stories for my classes, my clients, and for my own peace of mind. A good story can get my mind and heart whirling for hours and can be a source of inspiration for a weeks worth of yoga classes.  This week my favorite story came from a student. She came in for her weekly fundamentals class and sat down on her mat and said, "Ashley, I've just GOT to tell you about this cat." In my book, this is a really good opening line, and the story hooked me instantly not because I like cats, but because of the urgency in her voice.


This woman says that she is not a saint.  She simply thinks that being a foster parent for animals in local shelters is "the right thing to do".  She also said that "I figure if I have to get my wings, this isn't a bad way to do it."  I agree.  If we get wings at the end of our lifetime, I think this is a pretty noble way to get them.
She continued to tell me about this cat she would see in the local DC shelter. "Every time I see this cat it looks worse and worse. It is all bunched up in its cage, it is losing hair, and the shelter says that with all of her health problems, she'll never get adopted."  So this kind woman decided to foster this stressed out cat.  The shelter had named her "Precocious."  Now here is where the story gets good.  She brings the cat home, and after one hour, it has softened into a more normal shape of a cat.  And after two hours, the cat had completely relaxed and was stretching out in a super incredible back bend.
"It was like she was doing yoga!" the woman exclaimed. "As soon as she started to feel comfortable, I could see her relax, and once she relaxed her instinct was to stretch!  I have noticed that since I have started doing yoga, I am more relaxed and want to stretch more too!".  I could see the light bulbs going off in her head, and I could feel them going off in mine too.  I guess when we feel comfortable and safe, we relax, and when we relax, we want to open and stretch.
"It was like she was doing yoga!" the woman exclaimed. "As soon as she started to feel comfortable, I could see her relax, and once she relaxed her instinct was to stretch!  I have noticed that since I have started doing yoga, I am more relaxed and want to stretch more too!".  I could see the light bulbs going off in her head, and I could feel them going off in mine too.  I guess when we feel comfortable and safe, we relax, and when we relax, we want to open and stretch.
In the yoga classroom we are essentially doing the same thing. We are creating a safe and comfortable place where we can relax, stretch out and show our vulnerable parts. The modern yoga studio is like a safe haven where we can quiet our minds, deepen our breath, and roll around on the floor like fuzzy animals.  Now the cat formerly known as "Precocious" has been renamed "Patsy" and is enjoying a yogic life of leisure, love, and lots of sweet back bends with belly rubs.
I love stories because they are more than just stories. Stories are truths in different forms. It doesn't matter if it is a cat or a cheesy metaphor about humans rolling around on the ground like animals.  The truth is one in the same.

Yoga, Earthquakes, and Autumn

On a recent trip to Costa Rica we had the great good fortune of being at the epicenter of a 7.6 earthquake.  I say 'great good fortune' because this event provided us with deep insights and many rich lessons that have transformed the way we see the Earth and workings of life on this planet. We saw that the power of an earthquake not only lies in what we can see on the surface, shaking trees, swaying buildings, and moving earth, but affects a place deep within our psyche. For days, the earth shook.  Each aftershock sent a similar ripple of fear and excitement through our bodies and each time I had the same thought, "wake up, and look for the opening".

 

  

 There is really no safe place to be in an earthquake.  Often you will hear people telling you to get under tables, desks, and to stand in doorways.  In our case, each of these options would have resulted in severe injuries as bottles, glasses, and picture frames were being hurled at the table and doors.  Our best option was to get outside which we thankfully did.  As we stood there watching and hearing the sounds of the earth scream, shake, and moan, we were suddenly a part of a larger system.  All life seemed to be awake, attentive, and ready to move with the shifting of the Earth's surface. 

There is nothing in life that can prepare you for an earthquake. Perhaps doing yoga atop a jet ski or attempting to meditate on a roller coaster, but my experience led me to believe that the rattling power of an earthquake is a true wake-up-call.  Call it earth-surfing, or plate-cruising, and the same truth comes shining through, life is unpredictable so a be-here-now attitude can save your life. I will say that I think my yoga practice helped me through the experience and saved me from the possible burn-out of my nerves as each aftershock super-charged my adrenals. During the aftershocks, which ranged from 2.3 - 5.6, I watched my heart rate rise, my eyes bulge, my muscles tense, and I consciously employed my breath to bring my heart rate back down, and to relax my muscles.  For this, I can thank my yoga.
As a yoga teacher, I have been weaving my experiences of this quake into my classes.  The themes of "attentive surrender', "looking for the opening" and "life is not still", have been great ways to explore these Earth-lessons. My relationship with the Earth will never be the same. I can see and feel that she is a great yogini herself, taking on the faces of Lakshmi, the goddess of fertility and abundance in one moment, and in the next moment taking on the face of Kali, the firey goddess of destruction. It is this dual nature of the Earth that makes her dynamic. Never before have I been so grateful for the powerful forces beneath the earth and as an inhabitant of this planet, it is an honor to attentively surrender to these deep shifts.

As a yoga teacher, I have been weaving my experiences of this quake into my classes.  The themes of "attentive surrender', "looking for the opening" and "life is not still", have been great ways to explore these Earth-lessons. My relationship with the Earth will never be the same. I can see and feel that she is a great yogini herself, taking on the faces of Lakshmi, the goddess of fertility and abundance in one moment, and in the next moment taking on the face of Kali, the firey goddess of destruction. It is this dual nature of the Earth that makes her dynamic. Never before have I been so grateful for the powerful forces beneath the earth and as an inhabitant of this planet, it is an honor to attentively surrender to 

these deep shifts.

  

It is through big shifts like these that our perceptions broaden.  We start to look at the world around us as transient, changeable, and impermanent.  We see that there are no 'safe' places and that we are all vulnerable to shifts that are greater than us.  The coolest thing is somehow we are able to not just survive these changes, but we are able to thrive! Perhaps it is good time to stand barefoot on the earth, look up at the vast sky above and say "wow" and "thank you" the unseen forces that reside above us and underneath us.

As the seasons shift, I have been steadily working at our studio, Sky House Yoga, to gear up for the fall season. I've watched the studio activities wax and wane and I've been working with these new teachings to create our new Yoga Class schedule that starts Monday, September 24th and we will be bringing back our Full Moon Ceremonies starting Thursday the 27th.

During my time in Costa Rica I also pulled out some of my old yoga teaching texts and refreshed my knowledge of the asanas, sequencing, and philosophy. It is great to be home and I feel refreshed and re-inspired to share this powerful and potentially life-saving (this is me being dramatic) or life-prolonging (less dramatic) practice with my students. It is my hope as a yoga teacher that the tools you acquire through your practice will help you to find that flowing adaptability that will support you no matter how tumultuous things get. 

With two big eclipses, an election, and weather changes already in the mix, whatever we can do to steady ourselves internally, will prep us for whatever changes may come.

Wishing you a dynamic fall,
Ashley

love is an ingredient

Big thanks to  Baltimore By Hand for featuring our recent interview!

This blog examines the art of making herbal teas, spirituality and herbal medicine, and highlights some of the core values that I find helpful when thinking about our relationship with plants.

*..We are all in this together..*

Click here to read! 
http://baltimorebyhand.blogspot.com/2012/08/love-is-ingredient-interview-with.html

Infusing With The Luminaries: Making Sun and Moon Infused Herbal Teas

As a child I would put anything in water.  My girlfriends and I would run around the neighborhood picking flowers and stick them in small paper dixie cups. Then, very carefully, we would add sugar, water, mix and voila!  We had our own home-made perfume!  Most often these perfumes smelled  like a disconcerting mix of lawn clippings and sour cherries.  Yet, as princesses of our own fantasy world, we would dip our q-tips into these masterful blends on don their scents on our wrists thinking them to be so 'marvelous'.

We would also make potions.  These potions consisted of anything sticky, smelly, and strange.  I remember one day we made a particularly foul mix of pine pollen, pine sap, goldenrod, holly berries, and mud.  That potion was targeted at my little brother, a very annoying creature who seemed to be too easily contented with himself and liked to bother me by being just a little too happy.  That night while he was sleeping we placed this potion between his toes.  Poor guy woke up screaming thinking his feet were sick and were falling off.  Bad herbalist. Bad sister.

Fast forward to 1999.  I was living in a farmhouse in the mountains outside Asheville, North Carolina.  My herbal interests had matured and I found myself once again in the habit of making potions and sticking plants in water.  By this time I had learned more about plants and their medicines from local herbalists from the Appalachians.  My first adult herbal potion was moon-infused nettle tea. This tasty blend soaked under the light of a July full moon and filled me with an understanding of the power of lunar light.

Many of us know about Sun Tea.  We might imagine a large glass jar on a sunny porch filled with Lipton tea bags and their stringed flag labels caught somewhere between the lid and the outside world. Sun teas draw upon the energy of the sun to heat the water to pull the medicines and essences from the plant. When we use solar rays to extract medicines, we are drawing upon the sun's yang/masculine/active energies to stimulate the water and the plant.  There is an activating quality as we heat and alchemically draw forth the essence of the plant into the water.  Therefore, a sun-tea is often more yang or activating by nature, and draws forth more of the active essences of the plant.

Moon tea is different.  The lunar rays that shine down are a reflection of the the light of the sun and have a soft, reflective, and yin energy. Women who have a lot of yang energy (yes, that definitely includes moi) can really benefit by making moon teas.  Herbs that are infused by the light of the moon are less activated, and rely on the subtle, cool, and passive energies of the lunar.  My favorite lunar infused tea for women is one that I call "Womb Love" that I make in my apothecary. It is a blend of Red Raspberry, Roses, Lady's Mantle, Marshmallow Root, Licorice, Hibiscus, Dandelion, and Stevia. These plants merge nicely with the light of the moon and bring harmony, softness, and tonify the yin organs and yin energies.

The beauty of making lunar infusions is the ability of these to capture the energy of the moon phases and their relative teachings into the tea. A full moon tea will bring more bright, illuminating, and culminating energy to a blend, while a waning moon infusion will invoke a remembrance of rest, calm, and letting go.  Herbalists pay close attention to the moon and we use the moon for harvesting. We harvest some flowers and plant tops under the light of the full moon, when the energy of the plant is lifted like the tides into the highest part of the plant. And we harvest roots and tubers under the darkness of the new moon when the energy is calm, the tides are low, and the plants have their intelligent life-force nestled deep into the earth below.

Solar Sorrel Infusion courtesy of my yard!

Today, under a waning moon, I added about 3 cups of wood-sorrel into a glass jar to make a sun tea.  I think the cooling properties of wood-sorrel matched with the slightly overcast light of the sun will make a nice blend to help me with some stomach issues I've been having.  This plant has a long use for aiding digestion, clearing obstructions, and cleansing the blood.  We will see how it turns out, but I have a feeling it will be a really nice neutral energy that will gently support my stomach and help me with some of the tension I have been holding in my abdomen.

Making these teas are easy.  You can use a dried herb blend, fresh plants, or even tea bags. I recommend using mason jars or any glass container. The herb to water ratio is very flexible.  As a general rule, I use 2 loose cups of fresh herb and 4 cups of water, for dried herbs, you will need less. Solar infusions typically need to steep for about 4 - 5 hours in the peak hours of sunlight, or if it is overcast, 7 - 9 hours.  For your lunar teas, track the light of the moon and you can place your jar outside or on a window sill that receives the glow of the moon and let your lunar tea soak overnight. For both, say a little prayer of gratitude for your luminary of choice and the plants in your blend.  Then strain and enjoy!

I am grateful to say that my brother has forgiven me for my prior sorcery and now allows me to make herbal blends for him. I thank him for being my first client, and am now committed to making all of my blends and potions as palatable and enjoyable as possible.

Altar-ed States of Consciousness

I have an altar.  It is a beautiful one set up in the backyard, protected by the sacred herbs rue and chamomile, and in the center is a statue of the goddess Durga, a sword yielding goddess of protection.  When I created this altar several months ago I envisioned myself waking up each morning and sitting in this pristine space surrounded by chirping birds and the serenity of my own mind. Every morning when I water my plants, I rinse out and refill the offering bowl to Durga. I fill it with fresh water and promise myself that I will come back out to sit, breathe, and meditate.

Fast forward to today.  Today I sat at my altar for the first time.  Mostly, I was inspired by this blog that I am starting to write. I thought it would be a good idea to center myself and do something 'spiritual' so I could receive some kind of divine guidance on what to write about.  As I snuggled myself into my seat, started to focus on my breath, and waited for that blanket of peace to envelop me, I was not met by divine inspiration, but by a swarm of ferocious mosquitoes.

As someone who grew up in the mid-west, I am very familiar with mosquitoes, horseflies, deer flies, and the like.  So I tried to sit, peaceful, serene, calm, protected by rue on one side, chamomile on the other, and Durga straight ahead.  I found my mantra, "Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare...." and in the meantime, the mosquitoes found their way to my tender wrists, the crease of my knee, a nook on my neck, and even bit through my yoga pants into my thigh.

Sitting there, I knew I had two choices.  I could breathe, be still, emanate a bright jedi-like force field of light around me and stay in my seat.  Or, I could swat at these blood suckers and make a run for the door.  Immediately a third option came to me. So instead of martyring myself to the bug-gods or giving up on myself, I opened my eyes, continued reciting my mantra, and gently wafted the bugs away when they got too close (ie landed on my flesh).

It was a beautiful moment.  I stayed for about five minutes, breathing, observing, reciting, and engaging with the dance of the mosquito wings as I could feel the delicate breeze they generated as they flew by my arms.  Some might say this is not 'real' meditation, that I should have disengaged from the external and given my full attention to God.  Well, sometimes the best we can do is try to strike a balance between honoring the God-in-nature, and honoring the God-inside.

Only 3 mosquitoes lost their lives during the course of my spiritual practice.  Could I have done better and not lost my temper with these creatures of God?  Maybe?  Yet one thing is certain, in those five minutes, I felt many faces of God, its mercy, its suffering, death and life. I can happily say that my first meditation at the altar was a success.  As I sat there open-eyed and interacted with life, my perception of meditation was altered. Perhaps we can say that meditation isn't always about letting it all go.....but sometimes meditation it is about letting it all in.....

I am grateful for my altar and I look forward to future meditations with my eyes wide open. Welcoming in the sirens, heat, and bugs, as an integral part part of expanding my consciousness.