Picking up poop is not an option.

Rather, not picking up poop is not an option.

My dad and the dogs

I recently spent some time on vacation with my parents and their two dogs, Tallie & Henry.  I often take the dogs running. It is a not-so quirky delight that they get so excited when they realize I am putting on my shorts and running shoes.  I put on their leashes and collars and before we leave a grab 2-3 plastic baggies to clean up any poops. It's just what I do, I don't think about picking it up or not picking it up-- if they poop, I clean it up-- no discussion.  Occasionally, I pick up theirs as well as stray poops left behind by not-so-considerate dog owners.

I have an uncle who loves the joke,"if aliens came down from space and saw a man and dog walking-- the alien would see the man picking up the dog poop and ask the dog to "take them to their leader."' This joke illuminates the odd power dynamic between a dog and their owner, which I found demoralizing when I was younger. Back in the days of middle school, one of my few chores was to take the family dogs on their daily walks.  I enjoyed the time and the freedom exploring my neighborhood with my very faithful companions. I despised being seen with a pooper-scooper. It was gross, uncool, embarrassing in my pre and tween perspective.

I went through phases-- sometimes taking the 3 foot long pooper scooper (you don't have to get too close, but jeez is it gaudy and totally noticeable to theoretical high school boys who might drive by), sometimes reverting to plastic bags (inconspicuous, but the proximity to the smell and heat of the freshly pooped poop is pretty gnarly) and sometimes I decided I was too cool to pick it up-- it would compost anyway right?

Once or twice I was caught not picking up the poop-- with a tail hung between my legs I would run home and grab a poop-picking up device and return to the scene of the crime. I grew out of the too-cool phase of life  and into the phase of taking responsibility for my own sh*#t-- and that of my dogs. I bet I could get away with a less poop picking up in my life, but I enjoy holding myself accountable better than anyone else can.

The new green is no green

I have been an environmental activist since I was nine years old.  I remember writing articles for the elementary school newspaper and letters to my senators and congresspeople about my passion for saving the world-- inquiring about their future plans. Looking back I am surprised that I knew who my senators were.  I desperately wanted change everyone around me to save water, save the air, save the dolphins. As I grew older I grew disillusioned with these tactics, then I heard a story.  The gist was a man tried to change the world in every way he could think of and eventually on his death bed he realized he should have started with himself and his actions were really the only thing he could control.  As I look at how the "fad" of green as the new black is taking over the media and the Lorax is approving SUVs and diapers-- there is no better time to closely look how I can more harmoniously live with the world around me. Here are some steps I have found helpful:

• the new green is no green: pick one day a week to not spend any money
• support local: at leasr once a week, consciously choose to spend money at local establishment 
• compost!
• be creative: reuse, reduce, recycle or give away
• plant seeds: grow your own food! up until the 1950's Americans grew 25% of everything they ate in their own backyards

What does being green mean to you?

I am addicted to water.

I have been drinking at least eight glasses of water a day for the past month.  It has become a second job, an obsession of sorts.  It takes a lot of determination, thought and energy to actually accomplish this task every single day, but I am committed. 

I had always heard that drinking water was a good idea, but it seemed like an intuitive notion that would be good to do tomorrow. Then I got a spot of benign skin cancer removed. It was a scary diagnosis (though I admit hardly anything in comparison to what many people go through). I asked my my dermatologist what he recommended besides the whole sun block schpeel.  I was hoping for a classified medicinal, scientific secret.  He simply responded,"Drink a lot of water. I drink a lot of water."  I was a little dumbfounded, yoga, fasting, meditation and sixteen years of organic vegetarianism hadn't protected me from cancer.  Drinking water seems so much simpler, obvious, maybe even trite.  I didn't realize until I the diagnosis, that the pursuit of many of my actions has been out of fear of disease and in an attempt to protect my body from the unknown.

I felt like I had tried "everything else", so I committed to drinking eight to nine glasses a day. In the beginning, I had an App on my iPhone that helped me keep track. Now I "do water" before I do anything else- two glasses in the morning, a glass before a cup of tea, a glass before a meal, a glass before coffee.  If I am hungry = water time.  If I am tired = water. I don't need coffee, the way I used to need it.  And rather than taking time every few months to detox with herbs and special yoga poses, I don't feel clogged up or congested in a way to need that, I just keep drinking water.  I think I might be addicted.   But I also think I am ok with that because it is easy, feels really good (and yes, my skin is more clear and have more energy) and I am so grateful I live in a place where I can drink out of the tap.

Travel Savvy

I have been urging many of my friends to blog about their journeys because their plans sounded so interesting (i.e. driving from Southern California to Alaska, or traveling to Asia to study massage); and consulting other yoga teachers about the benefits of blogging consistently.   I realized yesterday, I have not been taking my advice while traveling for the past six months.  It looks like I will be traveling for at least twelve more assisting at yoga conferences and events, visiting friends and family and exploring the country trying to figure where I will settle down; so I am committing to writing once a week this year and hope you enjoy the journey as much as I do!

Last week I landed at LAX, I was looking forward to getting out of the airport and directly onto Amtrak—the train station I had seen so many times on my voyages up and down the Southern California coast.  I got my hiking backpack (the perfect size for wilderness or urban trekking) and walked outside, right in front of me was a free shuttle, I asked if it was going to the train and the driver said, yes, this is going to the train.” In this simple exchange we both presumed that there would be only one train. I was thinking Union Station in downtown Los Angeles, the reality revealed itself to be much different. One and a half hours on the public transportation system through South Central LA, four metro changes, a few brushes with crazy and a $1.50 later—I finally found myself at Union Station where I could grab an Amtrak train to head north (on which I would pass the easily Amtrak accessible Bob Hope Burbank Airport).  

This week, to get back to LAX, I took the recommendation of a friend and tried the super cushy FLYAWAY bus.  The morale of this story is to ask for local advice if you really want to get somewhere the savvy way.

In my not-so-local (because I wouldn't consider myself local anywhere right now) opinion, I highly recommend taking Amtrak anywhere you can in Southern California.  As long as you don't mind a 30 minute delay which is not uncommon, the ride is filled with spectacular Pacific Coast views.  An upgrade to business class gets you a snack pack, wifi, a split of red wine and so much leg room I had trouble reaching the foot rest! It is one of my favorite ways to travel- relaxing, beautiful and comfortable.

Voluntary Simplicity

The holiday season can be very difficult if you love it or hate it (as the music, aesthetic and mania can be pervasive).  I am one of the former, I enjoy communing with every friend and family member possible, decorating, pumping Christmas music, finding the right gifts for those I exchange with, baking cookies and sending cards.  As the world turns quieter and colder in the northern hemisphere, it could be a time to introvert and enjoy longer evenings, but the added items on my to do list seem to be distracting year after year.  A few years ago, in an attempt to slow down I tried a Voluntary Simplicity Experiment-- an idea to gift experiences rather than things-- and for everything that I received for a year, I would have to get rid of something else.  It felt really good and still does.  I hope you give it a try or figure out what your own Voluntary Simplicity Experiment might be.

Check out my first two Elephant Journal Articles:

Food Tips for Traveling Yogis

The Joy Formula


Let me know what you think and what you are most curious about reading more about!

Bridges, Magic and a Cranky Wrist Oh My!

A few months ago I started noticing there was a little discomfort in my wrist even in a mild pose like hands & knees (also known as table pose).  I would slightly change the poses at the beginning of my yoga practice to alleviate the discomfort.  Then, one day about a month I couldn't put weight on my left wrist with my palm on the floor at all.  In the past, when I have experienced a mild to medium dis-ease or borderline injury I have taken the opportunity to take a full-fledge break-- switching to running, swimming or pilates.  Injuries are always frustrating, confusing and sometimes something so small seems to take over my life, especially because I am professional yoga teacher.  This one was no different, although this time I was downright indignant.  I teach four to five classes a week and need to practice before I teach.  Many of my yoga teachers have often spoken about learning from your injury, teaching from the wisdom that it can offer.  This was always a hypothetical for me, and I figured that was after you returned to full health.  I was feeling gimpy, inadequate and frustrated as I wondered "How can you practice from that? How can you teach from that?!"  Life and my classes were continuing with or without me.

Focus on what you can do, Not what you can't
I finally decided, after a visit to my acupuncturist, that I would stay away from putting weight on my wrist in extension for a month.  This removed plank, chaturanga (the yoga push-up), arm balances and handstands from my daily practice; which was a big part of my day to day routine.  After a week, I suddenly noticed I was occasionally demonstrating these poses in class (this would become the most difficult hurdle in my recovery).  The commitment to myself was going to be harder than I expected, until I shifted my focus to other poses: balancing and extension poses like utthita padagustansana (hand to big toe pose); forearm stand; frog; headstands; the list goes on and on.  I was focusing on flexibility and opening up my shoulder girdle, which brought a new softness to my personal yoga practice and teaching.  My change in perspective was opening up new possibilities and altered my emotional state as well by focusing on the positive, rather than the one perceived negative.

And then don't blame the bridge...

Our attitude toward a place of injury is usually quite negative and often places blame.  It is common to hear the phrase, "oh this is my problem shoulder" or "I have a bad knee".  This phrase-ology would fundamentally imply that the knee itself did something wrong of its own volition.  My Tai Chi says a chronic knee injury is due to a argument between your hips and ankles. We would never accuse a bridge blown up as a casualty of a war, a "bad bridge"-- so the same perspective can be applied to the knee, shoulder, back, whichever part of the body ails you, especially if it is a joint. For the knee problems strengthening the ankle and opening up the flexibility of the hip to discover the proper alignment of the knee in athletic pursuits and daily habits many ails can be fixed from within.  It may take years and many of us don't want to listen that carefully, thoroughly and mindfully to the whispering creaks until they incapacitates the whole body.  I can't blame my wrist it is a small relatively weak joint that must overcompensate for my tight shoulder girdle, and that I often push myself through a strong practice.
  
Magic?
We can switch from a position of blame to one of curiosity and compassion.  Many of my AcroYoga colleagues refer to a place of injury, or or dis-ease as "magical" because that place holds so much potential: an opportunity to listen deeply to the whispering discomforts of the body; to repattern that which is not working; to learn from within how to be more compassionate, nurturing and kind to our bodies first and foremost.  It can be easier, for me, to be nicer to others than it is to be nicer to myself, so if I am really truly kind to myself in every way that I need, I wonder how much easier it will become to be more friendly, generous and considerate to others?