It’s not a huge secret that I’m a sober Ashtangi. My sobriety date is April 1, 2009, and I’m still active in the program that helped me change from a suicidal drunk to a human being of service. My life hinges on me being free from drugs and alcohol.
How I feel hinges on the diligence of my practice. Being sober makes practice possible for me, and practice makes daily life possible. Ever seen the “If you think I’m bitchy now, you should see me when I don’t do yoga!” e-cards, or the “I do yoga to keep the crazy away” sweatshirts? They’re pretty accurate.
Continue reading “Twelve Steps for Ashtanga Yoga” »
Last weekend, I booked my flight to go practice with Maia for the first week of January 2015. I’m beyond excited. My practice is more fluid and focused thanks to the changes we implemented together. It’s also become easier and steadier. Sthira sukham asanam, right?
But this post isn’t about me, so let’s get on to the good stuff. Continue reading ““Yoga’s not about following a path of feeling good.” An Interview with Maia Heiss…Part 2” »
I’ve been a dedicated ashtangi for a little more than a year and a half. At first, my practice was less than traditional. To be fair, it wasn’t all my fault. Our Mysore program had two different teachers with very different styles, so there wasn’t as much consistency as there is in most Mysore rooms. Continue reading “Treatise on Tradition” »
On a weekday morning, if you walk into Indianpolis’ Cityoga around 7:30 AM, you can find me on the floor in a puddle of sweat, thighs over my shoulders, ankles crossed at the crown of my head, desperately trying to clasp my hands behind my back. Continue reading “The practice is the teacher” »
Running: the sport that brought me to yoga. Look how tiny my arms were from the lack of chatarungas!
I took my first yoga class in the basement studio of Virginia School of the Arts in 1999. I was thirteen. I remember being frustrated with my limited flexibility but loving the physical exertion and concentration it took to do things like try to bend my front leg to ninety degrees while I pressed my back foot into the ground in Virabhadrasana B, my skinny teenaged arms reaching to opposite walls of the room. Continue reading “Finding Yoga” »