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  1. Miami Nice: How Tim Feldman ALMOST made cry!
    Monday, November 07, 2011
  2. Calling all Teachers ...
    Wednesday, October 05, 2011
  3. ashtanga vs. rocket
    Thursday, September 29, 2011
  4. the space between
    Monday, September 26, 2011
  5. no, it really IS me
    Wednesday, September 21, 2011
  6. let it go
    Thursday, September 15, 2011
  7. 5 reasons to not practice asthanga
    Thursday, September 08, 2011
  8. moonlighting yogis
    Saturday, September 03, 2011
  9. against the flow
    Sunday, August 21, 2011
  10. A day off? That's lunacy!
    Thursday, August 11, 2011

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Miami Nice: How Tim Feldman ALMOST made cry!

Just so we’re clear, I’m not one of “them.”   You know … the criers.

That is, not on my mat.  Or in public, really.  No need to.  I take pride in keeping steady and strong in my practice and in life.  Provided no curve balls, I stay well within my comfort and control.

But this weekend almost changed that … almost.  A curve ball, wouldn’t you know.

And for the first time, I nearly lost my shit on my mat.  Thanks to Tim Feldman and back bends.

Can’t really blame him.  Every teacher I have loves to bend me backwards.  They ask, “Do you want to grab your ankles?” and I have to seriously wonder, does anyone ever actually say yes?  I’m usually pretty polite about it.  No thanks.  Not today ever.  Appreciate your interest (now go away).

Only Tim didn’t ask.  And before I knew it, he had me there.  As soon as I felt my heel, my heart started to pound, my mind raced, and I stopped breathing.  And then he started counting.

One.  Two …

That’s when I first felt it.  It was an awful stuckness and I thought in that moment, I am going to die.  I really started to panic when something strange began to rise up from my chest.  It sounded like a hiccup – but I knew what it really was …

Shit!  I’m going to cry!

Three …

Yeah.  I didn’t actually make it to three.  Because on three, I would’ve joined the waterworks club.  Hiccups to sobs, it was a very close call.  Instead, I came out.  Or up, I should say.

Bad lady.

Whew.  That was a close one.  As I went into my finishing series, my mind wandered back.  Why was I so afraid?  I did a little body scan and nothing hurt.  In fact, I can’t really remember anything hurting in the pose – unless you count the impending death I felt sure coming, as an ailment.  The truth is/was … it wasn’t physical.

I spoke with Tim about this after class.  He explained we have 5 bodies:  the physical, the emotional, the mental, the energetic, and the spiritual.  He suspected that the stuckness I felt was not coming from the physical body, but from one of the others.  Something, not physical, was – and still is – holding me back.

But before you whip out a therapist referral, that’s what’s so beautiful about this yoga practice:

When you work on the physical body, you are also working on the others as well.  The shifts and changes we make in one, has a ripple effect into the others.  Effect change in one place – effect change in all places.

Hence, I imagine my time is coming.  The club I’ve been hell bent on avoiding may be forced to welcome me one day, afterall.  And so, should you ever find me with big sweaty tears spilling onto my mat … save your pity and congratulate me instead.

Because the opening of the floodgates could be just the opening I need.

 

picture thanks to tova steiner, ashtanga mysore - arlington, VA


My blog will soon be moving permanently to my website, www.pegmulqueen.com.   

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Calling all Teachers ...

WANTED

A YOGA TEACHER WHO PRACTICES YOGA

Only those with experience need apply.


Not so much to ask, right?  Any schmo can collect 200 hours of training - but a true teacher is one who practices what they preach.  As experience is the best teacher of all.

That's why I want a teacher who knows what it's like to practice when they're tired.  I want a teacher who understands how to work through challenges, including boredom.  I'm not interested in a teacher who can speak the language - but rather one who walks their talk.

Today, when I came early for yoga, I saw my teacher on her mat - practicing.

And I knew immediately, I found a candidate I could trust.






ashtanga vs. rocket

i get asked all the time, how can i practice both these styles of yoga

(believe it or not, people actually find it important to know)

and my answer is always - how could i not?  i need both.

Ashtanga (with a capital "A") teaches me to be disciplined and committed.  it demands a lot from me, physically, emotionally, and mentally - and all before my first cup of coffee.  i learn patience and even compassion (towards myself) as i work through challenges on my mat.  i leave my mat feeling stronger and more grounded.

i need that purposeful structure Ashtanga brings to keep me rooted and productive.

but lest i get too stuck (and i'm not talking postures) ...

rocket brings me freedom and joy. 
still structured and demanding like ashtanga (now, with a small "a"), but with a sense of ease and play woven in.  i'm encouraged to take risks, explore, and get swept up in the flow of movement and breath.  i remember that life is serious enough without me always having to be.  i leave my mat feeling lighter and inspired.

rocket keeps that creative flame burning - and a lightness that allows me to fly.

i recently read a facebook status from baron baptiste that said, "playful and purposeful is powerful."

my yoga, both Ashtanga (with a capital "A") and that rocket ride to the moon, bring together purpose and play - and that IS powerful! 

yoga, by whatever name, should bring us each into balance on the mat, bringing out not just our best - but letting us develop that other side too.  it should complement who we are while challenging us in the way we are not.  but in the end,  just like in religion and politics - there is no absolute.  there is only what makes sense to us.

besides, all yoga is good yoga ... it's whatever gets you there. 

whatever gets you there.


the space between

i remember the day my teacher "gave" me supta vajrasana ... as if it were a gift.  (which it's not)

i found nothing to celebrate in a posture that would require my teacher to sit on my lotused legs, arms securely bound behind my back and drop me back on my head.  (if you don't practice Ashtanga yoga - you're probably horrified ... but lemme tell you, if you do practice Ashtanga, you should be horrified!)



for almost a year, i moved between fierce determination and utter resignation - with no sign that it was going to get better. unless of course, you consider i had regularly started to lose feeling in one arm each time i finished, which was a step up from feeling like my shoulder was going to rip out of its socket.

yet in anyone's lifetime - mine certainly, and i imagine yours too - yoga poses should be the least of our worries.  because as insurmountable it once seemed to get my feet behind my head ...  it pales in comparison to raising teenagers, escaping a brutal relationship, and continuing to believe in myself despite a stack of rejection letters to the contrary. 

there still exist plenty of days when all anyone can do is greet each one with a hope and a prayer - by just showing up and giving our best, even if our best IS just showing up.  tired and full of doubt, we get up and do our work.  morning after morning ...day after bloody day.

until suddenly, without ever really realizing why or when or even how -  this awesome, delightful semi-adult somehow replaces the sullen teen you worried about.  love erases the hurt, and fears dissipate, giving birth to new confidence.

and the yoga you had begun to seriously question, opens us up to the realization that what we were feeling perhaps wasn't as much physical as emotional.  and that a close connection with a trusted teacher makes being dropped on our head while bound almost ... almost ... ok.

where it all happens is that space between struggle and acceptance, hurt and happiness, failure and success.  a space where showing up is not just all you can do - it's all you need to do

i won't pretend to know how, or when, or why - i just have faith that it will.  whatever "it" is.


and it's why i'm pretty sure that when guruji said, practice and all will come ... he wasn't just talking asana.


no, it really IS me

let's just make one thing abundantly clear ... if i come take a yoga class with you, i'm not giving you feedback after.

i realize this is not a popular stance.  in fact, most people don't even wait for an invitation before bestowing you with their pearls of wisdom. 

and it's not because i don't have an opinion.  oh no - i've got plenty of those. i know what i like and what i don't like.  i know what appeals to me and what doesn't. 

and just to prove it, so you won't ask me again - i'll let you know, just this once, exactly what i think of your class:
  • hello mr. bikram ... i'm not sure anyone has ever told you this, but your class is too effin hot.  quite frankly, it's so hot that i have to work way harder to keep my shit together on the mat.  everything becomes laborious in that kind of heat - even breathing.  so i have to concentrate, focus, and work harder than i really care to, thank you very much.
  • dear mr. friend ... i'll just say this straight out:  you talk too much.  do this ... do that ... pull in here, spiral there, expand, contract, turn in, turn out.  ugh.  i like my habitual way of practicing and, contrary to politics - i'm not such a fan of change.  i'm into the comfortable way of doing things, not necessarily the better way.
  • i must say, mr. iyengar ... your book is my bible.  but your class, well ... read my note to mr. friend and then i'll add one more piece of feedback:  we have 90 minutes, so add some more postures, would ya?  you see, i get bored if i'm not constantly stimulated with new information and your idea of getting me to spend time and go deeper may have intelligence but doesn't compute with my ADHD.  anyhow, i've grown somewhat attached to my injuries.
  • i apologize, sri pattabhi jois ... i've called some of your postures hard stupid.  (actually, it was my daughter who did, but i will take full responsibility for her attitude because she most likely got it from me.)  it's just that some of your postures take months, even years of work - and i'm talking the every-day-kind-of-work.  who has that kind of dedication and commitment?  what's worse, it seems i can't just slide ahead when i feel like it - and that just busts on my ego!
  • while i have the floor, i'd like to let mr. dharma mittra know now that i don't really like to backbend, to my flowgis, i have two left feet and suck at their dance, and even my fellow rocketeers - i despise eka pada koundinyasana, so can we just delete that from the sequence altogether? 
oh, but you don't feel the same?  you don't agree?  and here i thought you wanted my opinion feedback.  so then just be forewarned, if you ask me what i think, you best know ...

... each and every load of crap "pearl of wisdom" i bestow has WAY more to do with me than it does with you/him/her/it.

let it go

I hear her screams long before I even get to the checkout counter. 

She’s about 4 years-old and she’s bawling loudly like only a 4 year-old can.

People are staring and her momma is squirming.  But this kid does not give a crap.  She wants the balloon she saw in the front of the store … and she’s simply devastated that she can’t have it.

I guess I should be bothered by the little girl’s tantrum – but I’m not.  I sympathize.

I know just how she feels - I can feel her pain.  Life can be pretty unfair sometimes.  And, quite frankly, there are many times the 4 year-old inside me would love to scream her bloody head off at the injustice ... heck, sometimes she does!

The yoga sutras say not to get too attached to either pain or pleasure - lest we get stuck.  But that hasn't always stop me from hanging on a little too long, bellyaching a little too loud, and letting my inner four-year-old embarrass me at the check out counter while I hold up the line.

And then I have a conversation with someone like Jan Withers, the National President of Mothers Against Drunk Drivers (MADD) - and I learn what Patanjali means to never give up, yet learn to let go. 

Jan's daughter, Alisa, was just 15 years old when she was killed by a drunk driver.

In the days, months, and years after Alisa’s death, Jan shuffled between the bed and the couch:

"Oh the rage!  It was a guttural, animal rage – such a strong emotion I had no idea could come from me.

My husband and my youngest son all worked hard to comfort me, but no amount of comfort was enough.  One day, years later, my husband said to me, ‘You know Jan, I’m on your side – remember?’

I finally realized, the offender was off living his life happily. I was hurting myself, and I was hurting my family - I was not hurting him.

So I made an active decision to release the anger and put that energy into something that would make a difference.  I just knew I wanted to do something meaningful."

Jan Withers remains a huge inspiration for me.  Not just because she now leads the charge to eliminate drunk driving – but because she found the strength and courage to get off that couch.

She reminds me, letting go isn’t an art or a skill or a trick you can learn – it’s a choice.  And by letting go, we give up the anger and the hurt - without giving up our faith in purpose and meaning.

Most of us will never know that kind of awful heartbreak.  Or at least, I hope not.  But we will be faced with moments when life deals us a blow that's a little more crushing than a balloon we’re denied. 

And in those moments, we have a choice.  We can hold on to our rage, our pain, and our resentment – or we can make an active decision to release all that – and put our energy somewhere that can count.

May each of us choose to let go of the balloon … get up off that couch … and do something meaningful. 

Like live again. 

Like love again.


A writer -- and, I believe, generally all persons -- must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art. -Jorge Luis Borges, writer (1899-1986)

Remember, you don't have to be a mother to get MADD.  If you are interested in learning more or making a tax-deductible donation, please, please visit their website at www.MADD.org

5 reasons to not practice asthanga

y’know, as i was leaving mysore practice this morning, i thought to myself … sometimes this sucks.

sure you will hear me telling you all the ways i love ashtanga and how it’s  changed my life … blah blah blah.  but what you don’t know is, some of those changes are really sucky.  (and yes, that’s a word).

like these things, for example. 

my top 5 sucky things about ashtanga yoga:

  1. it’s expensive.  do you realize how much money i had to spend on a new wardrobe after the first six months of practicing?  my shoulders broadened while my waist and hips slimmed down.  all of a sudden i found myself looking to buy jeans and shirts that showed my shoulders.  when my husband opened up the visa bill – i rightfully blamed it on ashtanga.
  2. there's no cheating.  in a regular led class, i know exactly what to do when the teacher calls vastistasana – putz.  (hoping like hell you’re not reading this mike graglia …) fix my ponytail, straighten my mat, get a drink of water, wipe the sweat from my forehead, etc.  next thing you know, it’s over.  and that’s the idea.  now in ashtanga, i can still do all that – but the freaking posture is still there waiting for me, and will be until i do it.  and that just sucks.
  3. no one coddles.  i’ve been practicing ashtanga for almost five years now and never, ever, not even once has a teacher said to me, “if you get tired, take child’s pose.”  i complain and say it’s hard.  i tell ‘em i’m tired.  and i wait … but all that comes back with is the same rote advice.  something about, practice and it all comes. 
  4. where's the entertainment?  no music.  no readings.  no inspirational talks or uplifting message from the teacher.  apparently these folks think all you need is the practice itself and anything else just gets in the way.  as if supta kurmasana could be entertaining enough.
  5. you have to stay sober.   not like i’d ever come to my mat after throwing back a few … but when you practice like ashtangis do beginning around 5 am – the LAST thing you want is to have a second coming of anything from the night before.  so not only do you turn down that glass of wine, but late night breyers mint chocolate chip ice-cream (which i was always much more likely to indulge in) has become a thing of the past.  sigh.

so the next time you see an ashtangi – be sympathetic and kind.   you see, they’ve had a rough morning already, with a hard sober practice, often done in basements without windows.

and don’t forget to tell them how good they look in their new clothes!



like this?  share with a friend and let them know how much this practice sucks.

moonlighting yogis

yoga's dramatic rise in popularity has birthed some definite yoga divas and rock stars - along with famous names with celebrity teachers.  but our deepest inspiration comes from people who are just like us — who could BE us … only a few steps ahead on this twisting and arduous journey.  


that's why if you pick up october's issue of yoga journal (and i hope you will!) you'll see my article on moonlighting yogis - a few special teachers from across the country who have otherwise demanding and fulfilling careers, yet STILL choose to teach yoga on the side. 


but what you won't see are the thousands of others - just like them. 

because the five featured are, fortunately for all of us,  not at all unique


there are more … so many more.  behold the new crop of yoga teachers — they’re regular people like you and me and someday i hope, even my daughter.  each of us called and compelled to light the path for generations to come.   


i wanted to take the time to introduce a few others i interviewed while working on the article.  i found their stories each compelling and moving as each is fueled by a passion to change the world.

meet the nurse who puts people back together in the ER room yet makes them whole in the yoga room … the nyc lawyer who changed from a warrior ready for battle to a champion of the vulnerable and innocent … a scientist, bridging the gap between eastern and western medicine ... and the artist who uses her mat as a canvas to paint the life she dreams of.


            Susie Walby


 

 Anusara Artist

"Everybody is their own artist –

we get to decide how we create our world"

Susie Walby, an Anusara teacher in Bozeman, Montana, didn’t have to travel anywhere beyond her own living room to find yoga for the first time.

 “I was just 19 years old when my dad came home one Friday and announced to my mom and me that he had just met the most amazing yoga teacher - and we were all going to yoga on Monday.  Which we did - week after week.  My dad’s hilarious – he’s both an artist and a yogi – which, unsurprisingly, have become my thing too.”

Like her dad, Susie had an innate artistic flair – but, as a young girl, she was shy and didn’t always trust her talent.  Yoga helped her expand her creativity and allowed her to hone in on that intuitiveness that she says, we all have.

"Yoga teaches me to put myself out there.  It’s humbling and nerve racking at the same time but I’ve learned to trust my instinct, to take risks, and not to be afraid of doing my own thing - in my art and in my life.”

Today, Susie’s yoga studio also doubles as an art studio, with both her mat and her canvas taking up residence in the same intimate space. 



Christine Peterson

 


 Ashtanga Scientist

"Sun Salutations can heal anything."

 

After suffering from bouts of anxiety and seasonal depression, and determined not to fix it with a pill – Christine decided it was time to check out what this yoga stuff was all about. 
I didn’t understand all that they were chanting and doing in the beginning, the poses or the names of the poses.  But I knew after the first class - after waking from my first savasana – I felt better. 
I knew right away, there must be a science to yoga
And science is something Christine understands well.  She is now at the J. Craig Venter Institute studying the bacteria that live in the human gut. 

Christine is determined to bridge that gap between the eastern and western medicine in her work as a researcher, but also as a yoga instructor. 

Even my yoga classes focus a lot on core work, emphasizing a strong a vital intestinal tract. Because I’m convinced - all it takes is a few sun salutations each day to keep us all healthy.


Tandy Gustin

 Bikram Nurse

"Whatever I am doing or practicing – I make it what it is."

 

Tandy Gustin doesn’t consider herself a healer, but she does recognize that there are two places in her life where she has the capacity to heal. Though she admits, that more, true healing is happening in the yoga room than in the emergency room.

They come to the trauma unit, tortured and mangled.  My job becomes more damage control.  At least in yoga, you have this opportunity to heal people in a preventative way.

Like many, Tandy came to her yoga mat to cross train.  She remembers the first time she walked into the yoga room and sweated it out with a bunch of regular Joes like herself – not some elite group of super athletes with the “right” clothes on. 

After that first class, Tandy was hooked.  For Tandy, the yoga is now so much more than crosstraining and what you bring in contributes even more than anything else happening in the room:

We get stuck on particulars like it’s too hot, or not hot enough.  We get stuck on “this spot” or “this teacher”  – but boy, yoga sure doesn’t have anything to do with that.  All that just gets in the way.

Remember the practice is all what you make it … and if that isn’t just a parallel for life, I don’t know what is.

 


            ISAURO FERNANDEZ




Ki Power Yoga Lawyer

“Mi nino, yoga te salvo,”  My mom tells me.  

My child, yoga saved you.

 

A competitive fighter both on the mat and in the courtroom transforms into a completely different kind of warrior.  Meet Isauro Fernandez, a New York City lawyer - and accidental yogi.

Isauro started practicing Judo and Tai Kwan Do at the age of six – competing his whole life.  But in 2006, Isauro came home from the International World Championship in Vienna badly battered.  With his left shoulder dislocated (for the third time), he had to question how many more injuries his body could sustain. 

I walked into the bookstore and stared at the self-help section – and Baron Baptiste’s, Journey into Power, literally falls off the shelf.  I thought yoga was just for women – not real men like me.  But on the cover of this book was Baron in crow pose and I thought – I want to be able to do that.

Within that first flow, the first sun B, when Isauro went into the warrior, he felt something stir inside that he could not understand. 

Perhaps a new kind of warrior emerging.  Two months after that first class, Isauro found himself in a teacher training.  Like so many others, he had no intention of teaching – he just wanted to learn more.

The beauty of all this was I didn’t even know what was happening.  Yoga does that.  All I was doing was showing up and being open.

I was not looking for yoga – and I definitely wasn’t looking to teach.  But once I started practicing, and then teaching – I couldn’t stop.  I can’t stop.  I can’t wait to get up and teach and connect.  I always think, if there is just one person who needs to feel and to heal – I want to show up and keep showing up for them.  For the students.

Once upon a time, before Isauro started teaching yoga, he had an busy office with two secretaries.  These days, Isauro fits in his law practice around teaching his own unique style of yoga fused with martial arts – Ki Power Vinyasa.  And continues to learn in the company of his two greatest teachers – his children.

 

against the flow

 

as we trudged against the biting hail, the chilling wind, and up the steep winding trail, i thought to myself – this better be good.

… and of course, it was. 

when we reached matapi peak, 8490 ft. above sea level, and checked the views of mt. siyeh and going-to-the-sun mountain of glacier national park – there wasn’t an ounce of my aching legs or wind-burned body that regretted making the effort.


yet, we hippy-dippy yoga types are so keen on telling everyone to just “go with the flow” and it’ll all be alright ... but what if alright isn’t good enough for me?  maybe i want spectacular?  or amazing?  or beyond my wildest dreams? 

that's the kind of stuff, my friend, that often lies upstream.

there is nothing about this hike that went with any kind of easy flow.  we fought weather, fatigue, and switchback after switchback.  the whole while, i was having my own private battle with an extreme fear of heights.

i admit - it occurred to me to turn back.  i looked behind and saw the downhill slope and thought how easy it would be … yet completely no fun at all. so i kept going.

even fish go against the flow for something worthwhile.  trout do it to feed and salmon do it to lay their eggs.  these tiny creatures are smart enough to know, when something matters – go against the flow, not with.

and any smart river guide will tell you, there are times when just "going with the flow" of a raging river will do nothing but slam you up against a hard rock wall.  nothing easy there for sure.

truth is, there isn’t anything in my life that has been worth a damn that i didn’t have to swim upstream to find.  nothing.  there isn’t one moment of elation, one serious achievement, one love or one glorious story to tell, that didn’t come with it’s own strenuous tale of drudgery - including setbacks, doubts, and the usual fear.

so the next time you’re struggling or facing a steep challenge and one of us hippy-dippy yoga types tell you to “relax” and “just go with the flow” … that’s your cue to keep on going.  and i promise – when you reach the place it’s ok to rest, the view from where you sit will be like none you’ve seen before.


happy climbing!

 

 

 

A day off? That's lunacy!

Saturday marks another moon day.  One of two days of most months, ashtangis will gather in fourbucks rather than the shala, trading contortion for coffee. 

No yoga practice on a moon day.  A rather foreign concept to most other yogis ... hell, Bikram's such a badass - those folks don't even take Christmas off!

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not begrudging the extra day off and a morning to sleep in.  My husband has remarked that he wishes the business world would observe our loonier ways - but this is also the man that naps every day. 

Just the same - I'd like to know why.  So I asked my friend Carrie.  She's not just an ashtangi - but an astronomer to boot. 


ME:  Carrie - you are an astronomer who practices ashtanga, right?

CARRIE:  Yes. I teach physics and astronomy at Montgomery College and I maintain the college's observatory. We have public nights at the telescope every 1st and 3rd Friday of the month.  I started practicing Ashtanga a little over a year and a half ago.
ME:  In my other life, when I was a guidance counselor, I used to call out sick on moon days because of all the kids gone whacky ... but perhaps I was the whacky one.
CARRIE:  I see you as a delightful anomaly.
ME:  So I'm not crazy when I say the moon affects my mood too?
CARRIE:  Ah, the lunar effect! Throughout history there have been claims that the full moon influences human behavior, but studies have been unable to find a correlation. Researchers have looked for things like an increase in crime or emergency room visits occurring during the full moon and have found none.

<insert here, ME: "Yes, Peg - you are crazy">

CARRIE:  Quantifying the lunar effect scientifically is challenging. A common misconception I get from my students is that since the moon is primarily responsible for the tides, it must have some effect on the human body since we are made of mostly water. This is not true! The moon's tidal force cannot directly affect objects as tiny as humans.

A back of the envelope calculation shows that a yoga instructor adjusting my Paschimottanasana would have more tidal force on me than the moon does.

ME:  You're funny!  That must be the astronomer in you because generally, ashtangis are not very funny ... unless you talking quirky funny as opposed to haha funny.  Which leads me to my real quest of quirks ...

Do YOU know why ashtangis take moon days off?

CARRIE:  I've often wondered about this. I imagine it's a good way to get in a couple of rest days each month, but perhaps the real answer is something more interesting that you only get to learn after the intermediate series??


So I asked Aliya Weise - because not only is he an authorized Level II Ashtanga Teacher, but he can also stand on his hands and put his feet on his head, which, in my book, makes him pretty damn cool.  (Not to mention he has the most adorable son EVAH??!)

Anyway ...

ME:  Aliya, why don't Ashtangi's practice on moondays??

ALIYA:  I think most who follow moon days do so out of respect to Guruji. Guruji was an ardent believer in jyotish astrologer and thought it unwise to practice on days when the new moon or full moon fell.

That being said, there are those who believe in the astrological influence of the full and new moon and therefore do not practice on those days for the same reason Guruji did not. Basically, the conjunction creates unstable energy and makes an injury more likely.

Of course, there are most certainly those who simply want the random day off from practice and so they take moon days that fit in with their schedule or make for a long weekend perhaps. Although, I would caution you that appearance may be deceiving.

For example, some consult with Hindu priests for the best day to honor the moon and this can lead to some variations due to time zones, calculation mistakes, etc. Supposedly this website is one of the most authoritative: http://www.mypanchang.com/

I suppose in the end the decision how and why to honor the moon day is like the decision how and why to practice Ashtanga yoga. It probably varies a lot from person to person.

Which means come Saturday - you can catch me at the Leaf and Bean, Montana's version of Fourbucks. 




Something fun to try Saturday night ...

CARRIE:  Ever notice that when the full moon is low on the horizon it looks really big? This is actually an optical illusion- the moon's angular size in the sky is constant over the course of an evening. I tell my students they can make the illusion go away by viewing the moon upside down between their legs when it is low on the horizon.

Next full moon, go out just after sunset and look east. The full moon will be big on the horizon. Now get yourself into Prasarita Padottanasana and look at the moon again. The moon will look smaller! This really works, I've tried it!

Thanks Carrie ... people think Ashtangis are a bit looney already.  This is NOT going to help!