Grace & Glory Yoga

A POWER VINYASA YOGA community that always chooses JOY!

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CHANGE THE CONVERSATION

By: Travis-Michael Farrell

If you’ve practice in Grace and Glory Yoga’s Northfield studio in the last month you’ve noticed our mission statement written on the chalkboard at the front of the room:

Occasionally, a spot on this board becomes my drishti: a letter or a word to connect with while I breath through poses. Last night, the words RADICALLY CHANGE floated out at me and has me thinking about where I fall into default mode. It’s a great practice to recognize this behavior, and the more I see it, the quicker I am at shutting it down. To that end, I’d like to share three areas of my life where I am constantly committed to changing the conversation, to staying fresh and keeping the creative energy in the air.

In My Day Job I’ve been a public high school teacher for sixteen years and this job, with it’s annual, cyclical nature, is fertile ground for business as usual. There’s a mentality among many teachers that they should continue doing what they’ve always done because that’s the way it has always been. For example, the status quo looks a lot like teachers making enemies of administrators and vice versa. I’ve done it - it’s part of many work cultures to make the boss into some cartoonish figure who only cares about his agenda. So what instead? Radically change the conversation! Back before the beginning of our 40 Days to Personal Revolution program, on a Monday morning, I invited myself to a half hour conversation with my principal in his office. We discussed school morale, “masks” in leadership, self-improvement, and Ghandi. I felt like I met the man for the first time, and, in the end, he committed to starting yoga and asked me to hold him accountable. So last Monday night, after our Triumph practice where there was glitter, music, and mat crashing, he shook my hand and thanked me, and told me that he’s continuing with his practice. I give the man a lot of credit, he was bold enough to step out of his comfort zone and take on something new. I also have to say that none of this would've happened if I’d stayed in status quo mode. But since bringing myself to have the conversation I’ve come to see my principal as a person, one with whom I actually have a lot in common.

In My Own Head This is a constant awareness and presence around what default thoughts are running and what is actually occurring. It is so easy for me to slip into patterns of behavior, so easy to check out. Like Corey wrote back in March, I am also a brilliant storyteller, and I have been enjoying the running drama in my mind for a long time. Some of these thoughts are so entrenched, it really takes my awareness to come back to the now. The present. Today. But grounding in the moment and checking in with the actual world calls my attention to the reality in front of me. I’m far from perfect. It happened yesterday. My default thinking starts with my I’m not good enough, or I am broken and don’t deserve a seat at the table stories. I tend to take a poor me pouty face approach to things, even good things in my life. This translate to thoughts like: I have a great job but I don’t deserve it. If I spend some time writing my default says I’m being lazy, I should do something productive - forgetting that I am talented and enjoy writing (and get paid for it!). When I bring my awareness around that little voice, it shifts. From there I open up and commit to the real me, and radically change the conversation in my own head.

In My Yoga Practice Have you ever caught yourself moving in to Upward Facing Dog when the pose hasn’t been called yet? Welcome to autopilot yoga - business as usual. Disrupting this looks like getting active, engaged and present on my mat. I have practiced Baptiste Yoga enough to know the sequence, which means that I can anticipate the sequence. Heck, I teach the sequence! But it does me no good to go through the motions. At that point, I might as well do calisthenics, and that’s when I find myself moving into Upward Facing Dog because that’s what we always do next. By now you’ve got the idea here - changing the conversation comes down to silencing my autopilot by taking my time to set up, ground down, and root to rise into the poses. I wait and listen. I give pause - the pause, literally the non-action, is the radical disruption in my yoga practice. I move and I flow in the same sequence, but it comes from a place of curiosity, ease, and grace. Nothing’s forced, nothing’s planned. I let go of tension and I find my hands float an inch higher in Tadasana. I give up autopilot and find my Warrior Two stance go wider and deeper. I get out of the voice that’s living in what has always been and I fly in to Crow. For real.

Where are you radically changing the conversation in your life?

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A JOURNEY, NOT A RACE by Lizbeth Canizzaro

I was feeling ill contented with where I was in life. My father had recently passed and I had been searching for something: a change to my surroundings, my relationships or myself. I was scrolling through Facebook posts and I read a wonderful blog about Baron Baptiste’s 40 Days to Personal Revolution program being offered through Grace and Glory Yoga in Northfield. I had never really practiced yoga, except for a few positions and some meditation. I was less a novice and more an interested admirer. While reading through the 40 Days blog, it sparked a notion that this might be an attractive alternative to the fog I felt setting in.

I showed up the first Monday night and was overwhelmed by how many people decided to take this journey. I was scared and uneasy as most looked like “regular” followers of yoga practice. As I sat and listened, I became more nervous; this wasn’t just a slight diversion to my Monday night schedule, but a chance to look into myself and join a community of like-minded others.  Apparently, it doesn’t matter the age, size, income, or location of the people around me - something that fastened us as equals brought us to this journey.  What I didn’t know was that my life was going to take a radical spin and my spiritual leader was handing me something to hold onto for the ride.

You see, during week four, my 48 year-old sister-in-law had a massive heart attack and died after playing in the snow.  Her son and my children had been raised together since birth, and she was the glue that held things together through my divorce.

I plunged into my dark places and tried to come to grips with a life without her in it. I couldn’t sleep and another moment in bed seemed like work.  Then I heard the voice in my head say take it to the mat.

From the beginning of the program, I encountered the mat very little as I did not know what I was doing and felt foolish. I had forced myself into a very early 5:45 class just days before her death and, though I remembered very little of the sequence, I remembered the message that morning:

Take it to the mat.

Bad day?

Take it to the mat.

Life sucks?

Take it to the mat.

Kids out of control?

Take it to the mat.

So I crawled out of bed, laid my mat on the kitchen floor, turned on some meditation music and got into child’s pose. I moved through poses I read about in the book or remembered from class, concentrating more on breathing than my posture. I began to relax. For 30 minutes I was able to put grief away and let my body move gently, stretching tense muscles and loosening the stiffness of being in a rigid state of anguish.

In the week leading up to the funeral, I walked away from the program and got caught up in the sorrow; but as the weekend came to a close I was faced with another Monday night.  I realized I made a promise to my accountability partner that I would end the program with her - as a team. I reached out to her on text and let her know that I would be at Monday night’s meeting.

As I arrived I was perplexed to find the door closed. 

We are doing a restorative session tonight said one of the program leaders. 

I caught myself thinking, Great, I’m not prepared, I should go home.

Then I remembered my clothes and mat were in the car and I my teachers encouraged me to change and come back. So I did, because my spiritual leader knew that my body needed this chance to unwind from the mourning I had been walking through for the last eight days. He knew that my mat and my yoga community could help me through this pain.

As I stretched and felt the pain, I wanted to quit and just rest in child’s pose, but Baptiste Yoga had taught me not to overlook the pain my body felt, but to embrace it, learn from it, work through and beyond it. The class was assisted by six or seven teachers, and every time I felt the need to stop, a gentle, warm hand would guide my spine, caress me neck or soothe my brow, letting me know that it was okay to let go and be still. 

As I re-enter the program, I am still a novice. There are many poses I cannot complete properly. I don’t get to the mat as often as I should, and I need a tremendous change to my diet. Yet, I don’t feel like I failed. This week answered the question I had during the first Monday, why the heck do so many people come back and do this program more than once - and even five or more times?

I realize that this is a journey, not a race.

Some weeks we stumble. Some weeks we crawl. We all have limits that have yet to be crossed because we find that in 40 days, life can get in the way. We forget what we have learned and go back to the old stand-by. We stand-by and let life go by. We are not present. We don’t pay attention to the little things. We are students of life and as students we need to return for lessons, re-read verses that we have forgotten and restore our desire to live a new way.  40 Days to Personal Revolution is the lesson, the mat is the restorer and through meditation and work we find a new path to happiness.  

My 40 days are almost over, but my journey is just starting.

Liz is a devoted parent, a diligent student, and a dedicated yogi on her new path to happiness.

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OFF THE LEASH

 by Travis-Michael Farrell

Every morning before sun up my Golden Retriever, Huxley, and I go on a walk. It’s our practice, a meditative silence that we’ve shared for thirteen years. We’ve got our routine. He doesn’t wear a collar in the house, but when we go out I gently slip it over his head. It’s green and personalized with his name and my phone number. He’s had the same one since I can remember. It clips to an old, well used, four foot long leash. I hook him up by the front door and we head out into the morning air, bring my neighbor’s paper to her doorstep, and then we cross the street, towards the public library. There’s a field adjacent to the library building that’s also the town’s property, so that the whole block is public space. Huxley and I usually walk around the block, but sometimes we head over to the field to play.

Most of the time, because it is early and there’s no one else around, I let him off the leash. It’s an old habit now but he’ll always sprint away from me, usually to a favorite tree or bush. Often he goes off into the darkness and I have to whistle a few times and wait for him. Occasionally, especially in the spring and fall, he’ll catch sight or scent of a rabbit. Then he’s gone. Sometimes the what ifs set in and I get nervous. I call him but I never chase him. I just stop and let him be a dog. He always comes back. He’s never caught a rabbit. When I stop and think about that time for him, it must be the most invigorating part of his day, doing what he was meant to do, what his instinct tells him to do.

He gets to run! Free!

Huxley dog, “off the leash” at his happy place, summer 2014

Last December I began working as the editor for the Grace and Glory Yoga blog, and I had an idea for a topic. I felt the need run my idea by Allie, the owner of the studio. It was a Thursday evening and a busy class had just let out. People were still cooling off and packing up their gear. I followed Allie out of the studio and asked for a moment of her time. Our exchange went like this:

Me: Can I run something by you? (silent pause). I was thinking that for the next blog post… (silent pause)can I… (silent pause)… wait, there’s no leash! (knowing smile across my face).

Allie: (smiling) Brother, there is no leash!

That was that. But those pauses were big realizations, where it dawned on me that seeking permission was ridiculous.

There’s a story I’ve heard about a young elephant tied to a tree to be taught obedience. He pulls but cannot get free. Over time the elephant comes to be conditioned, to believe that he’ll never break free, no matter how strong he grows. Like the young elephant, I have years of conditioning - from school, family and friends, from my jobs - to keep from wandering away, to stay put even when I could have just ventured out. But realizing there’s no tether, no leash, has led to breaking my own self-imposed conditioning, which led to growth and empowerment. Just like that. Can I? Hell yes! Of course I can!

But I was second guessing myself, because the “leash mentality” is a comfort zone. It seems so easy to say, I can’t do that. Who am I to try? to risk? to bother asking?

Here’s the reality: getting of the leash is disrupting my own business as usual. The leash is all those thoughts that keep me from stepping up to who I am or what I want, the thoughts that limit my perspective. Those old tapes that 40 Days to Personal Revolution asked me to burn a couple weeks ago. The leash is the middle of the road, play-it-safe attitude that tells me not to get too far from the pack or not to stray from the herd. The leash is my limiting beliefs that I can’t, shouldn’t, and don’t deserve. The leash is the little voice in my head that speaks with worry, doubt and fear - and it is such a brilliantly convincing voice. The imaginary failures and embarrassing scenarios it conjures can be enough to stop me dead in my tracks. The leash mentality is afraid of change. The leash mentality doesn’t allow for leadership or getting out in front, in the exciting unknown.

Getting off the leash - unleashing myself - leads to creativity, empowerment, and unbridled joy. This is waking up and embracing life, moment to moment. 

I love the instant when I unclip Huxley in the morning. He dashes away from me with boundless energy. He doesn't trot, he sprints. Letting myself off the leash is just like that. When I step out of my small, limiting beliefs, a flood of energy rises and fills me with pure possibility.

We’ve all heard the variations on this theme. Like, think outside of the box! Well, what about this: There is no box! There’s no freaking box. Have you ever been afraid to push the envelope? Afraid of the consequences, of upsetting the apple cart? Go on, blow the envelope off the table. Stop waiting for permission and turn the apples in to apple cider. Afraid that what you say or do might cross the line? Well, go on - there’s no line that you cannot cross. It’s just as Baron Baptiste assures each of us: we are ready now.

Well, what are you waiting for? Be bold.

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"Yoga Off The Mat" by Barbara Farrell

I had a great moment in my kitchen last week. I was tired - I had been home all day with the kids and when my husband came home and began to use our small kitchen space with me. I noticed how cranky it made me. I wanted to complain about how he loaded the dishwasher, or placed things in the fridge or something very trivial like that. I forget exactly. What I remember is I suddenly I became aware of the negative emotions within me. I felt an impulse to bitch and complain, and it was in that moment that I remembered that I have a choice. I can choose to bring about negativity and grumpiness, or I can step back and observe.   

This is equanimity - I meet myself where I am without judgment, accept it and let it go.  

But you see, I love to judge myself and I am obsessed with finding reasons for why I am wrong. As a result, I tend to find fault with others just to take the pressure off of myself. So when I was completing my excavation questions for “Week Two: Vitality" of Baron Baptiste’s 40 Days to Personal Revolution program, I was faced with acknowledging the things that drain my energy or the things I resent. It is easy for me to blame my mother, my husband, my job and my children. However, as long as I place that blame outward, I deny the opportunity to invite in equanimity.  So I choose to shift my vision and have a look within. From there, I realize it is my own attitude that drains my energy. It is how I approach a situation that can lead to resentment.

This week I have been “stuck” home on the couch nursing two sick kids back to health. This is, of course, simply part of raising children. They get sick and they need their mama. True. Thing is - I have so many other things I want to be doing.  I want to stand tall as a member of the Grace and Glory Yoga leadership team. I want to give more to the 40 Days program and inspire people to practice Baptiste Power Vinyasa Yoga. I am also the founder of the Little Glories program, providing small children with art and yoga lessons while their moms (and dads!) get a 90-minute yoga practice. I love everything about this job. I love yoga, I love playing with children and I love painting. Most of all, I love being of service, providing 90 minutes for someone else to come back to her center and let go of the dishes, the laundry, fixing boo-boos and taking temperatures. 90 minutes to focus on her breath and her heartbeat. But in the past ten days I have had to cancel Glories twice, skip the 40 Days meeting and miss a Junior Glories retreat, and I’ve only hit my mat once. I want to be in all these places and, obviously, I can’t. My catastrophe story around the situation makes me focus on the feeling of being “stuck” inside the house.

I could give in to the feelings of impossibility and feed the bad wolf with feelings of inadequacy. I could blame external circumstances for the way things are landing with me today. But in the midst of this storytelling I make a choice to consciously shift my vision and invite in equanimity.

So I stop and look down at my son who has been resting in my arms, his head nestled deep against my heartbeat. It’s the only place he can find comfort. Breathe in, breathe out. There is no time for dishes or laundry or yoga or anything else but holding him. I pause, in gratitude for him, and remember how many years I longed for this feeling. Breathe in, breathe out. I rock the chair and sing and sooth his discomfort. I feel the meditation of this act, just like the raw, simple focus of my breath on the yoga mat. The unconditional expression of love for my children is my yoga off the mat. I am giving and living a life of service in the purest and simplest form. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. My heart rejoices in the wholeness I feel from being 100% present to what matters most in this moment.

I made it back to yoga today. In the heat of utkatasana, Corey, the instructor, reminded us that the Sanskrit translation of the word is intense pose. She said it is intense but it doesn’t have to be a struggle. This resonated within me. Life can seem crazy and intense: my daughter throws a tantrum, the dog eats a book, the baby is sick and cranky. But none of this is the end of the world. It is just one moment. I can take a deep breath, accept everything as it is in this moment, without expectation or judgment. So I give it up. I let go of the struggle. I choose ease.

Barbara Farrell enjoys painting, singing, dancing, and trees – and she loves doing these things with little glories! Her favorite pose is dancer, her favorite time of year is autumn, and her favorite dessert used to be tiramisu.  

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“Don’t Think Twice It’s All Right” by Travis-Michael Farrell

In the “Week Two Vitality Meditation” section of 40 Days to Personal Revolution, Baron asks us to make a list of the top ten tapes in our heads (Dear Baron, it’s a playlist now. #century21). I took him up on the idea. I found it helpful to write these down and, in a lighthearted recognition of these patterns, share them with you. I also found it easy to come up with ten, once I was willing to actually admit that, yes, I have these “default” ways of thinking that want to keep me stuck. I’ll say that, too, recognizing them has been fun and productive - I now  have a label for the mode of thinking that I fall in to when I feel guilty, competitive, etc.

Extending the metaphor here a bit, I’ve gone as far as to label each “track” on my “playlist” with a song title. I’m a Bob Dylan fan, and since the guy has over 50 years of recorded music, I went with his song titles. Also, I’d like to formally introduce you to little t. That’s the voice in my head that loves to play these tracks over and over. He’s in his right place now. For sure. Enjoy!

1. “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” This is one of my favorite tracks: the catastrophe blues. I have a brilliant ability to blow things out of proportion. Let’s say that my wife and I have dinner plans with friends and they cancel at the last minute. The catastroph-izer in me mades a broad stroke decision on the spot: I will never ask those friends out to dinner again. That’s right. It’s all over now. I might as well get it signed and notarized by the judge because I give so much weight to it. And there’s no reasoning in the land, and no common sense that makes me give it up. It sounds funny now, but I know in my past I have really clung to this feeling, like I had been abandoned, like I had been really let down. The good news is this: dinner plans can be rescheduled, friends will always be friends, and my big blow up hollywood war scene moments can be saved for the pages of fiction.

2. “Man of Constant Sorrow” (Enter little t, crying): Whaaaaaaaaaaa! Why is this happening to me? Whaaaaaaaaaaa! (Big pouty lip and baby blubbering voice): Me! Me! Meeeee! Yup. I have played the lead role as victim for many, many years, feeling sorry for myself and taking it out on the world around me. New scene: Reality check. Deep breath. Look around. The big take away is this: it isn’t about you, little t.

3. “Not Dark Yet, But It’s Getting There” Have you ever missed the sunset because you know that night is coming? Or missed the cool, crispy autumn because you were dreading the cold, snowy winter days ahead? yeah, this is that habit of mine, where I am so fixated on what is to come that I take myself out of where I am at. That’s a big “why Baptiste yoga” moment for me - this work has helped me to stay more present, to appreciate the pleasant moments, and to tolerate the uncomfortable ones. It’s all one moment. Just be.

4. “Make You Feel My Love” I’m a people pleaser. It’s like I have this ratty old tee-shirt that says Will Please for Love. I have gone out of my way to get attention, to seek acknowledgment, to gain recognition from people. This happens in my job and in my personal life. I am aware of it now, but there was a time when this pathology was so ingrained in me that I’d take on more than I could handle and hold it together for as long as I could. And even when I was able to keep things together, I’d find that the recognition I was seeking in the first place wasn’t there, and I’d feel like crap about it anyway. So, I’ve tossed that crappy old tee-shirt. What’s really great is my behavior didn’t have to change - I am still willing to help people and to take on new things - but my motivation is different. I do those things now for the sake of being of service.

5. “It Ain’t Me Babe” I can play a pretty tough blame game. I do it in my relationship, my job, and even with myself. For example, I teach high school, and two years ago a favorite class of mine was cancelled. It was really easy for me to say that it was my boss’s fault, that he didn’t support the program, that he could have given me another chance, that he is vindictive and back-stabbing. Simply, he was to blame in my mind, but the reality was this: the class was cancelled because of new state standards. I accepted that. So three months ago I rewrote the curriculum to align to the new framework, and, just like that, the course was added back to the offerings.  When I gave up the blame, I created the possibility to recreate a class that I am still passionate about.

6. “Stuck Outside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again” I spend a lot of time stuck in the past. I am a writer, a storyteller by nature. I am also a certified English teacher with an advanced degree in literature, so I am trained in story analysis. What happens then, is I have this tendency to give everything a meaning. So I’ll find myself rehashing conversations and over-analyzing every word. I’ll slip back in to the past and examine events in my mind, searching for meaning. Yes, this is a wonderful skill for a storyteller. The problem comes up when I let this skill slip into my personal life, and I rehash the “stories” I’ve assigned to friends and co-workers and the gal who packed my groceries. But the past is passed. It doesn’t have to mean anything, and even if it does mean something, I’ll go as far as admitting that what I think it means is probably pretty far from reality. So I’ll save the past for my imagination and leave it at that.

7. “Tears of Rage” Full disclosure: “default" Travis is an angry bitch. For real. I realized very recently how much anger I have harbored in my life. For over three decades, I’ve let it fester and spread, like that giant island of plastic in the Pacific Ocean. I have done a lot of work in the past two years to understand where that anger originated, and, now, I am clear and empty around the fact that one moment from my boyhood, a simple event, was able to latch on and suck life for so many years. Now that I have sourced that anger, my default emotion has changed to joy. I smile more. I laugh at moments that used to really tick me off. I’ve given up, gotten empty, and stepped in to a new emotional default more.

8. “It’s All Good” This is me in “rescuer” mode.The play by play goes like this: What’s wrong? Here, I’ll fix it. No, really, give it to me. Yes. It’s all me. I can fix it. See? It’s all good. Right? All good! When really, I’ve learned that labeling things good or bad creates unnecessary story and drama. Things happen. People react. But I don’t need to feed or feed off of that reaction, I simply need to be aware, and, when people present a “problem” I am not ignoring them, but I am standing in True North and holding space for that person, without judgement, without coming to the rescue in a super hero cape. But I do think regular capes are underrated, and would certainly be a fan of bringing them back in to fashion.

9. “Wallflower” This old song has thousands of plays in my head. The little voice in me tells me that I am shy, tells me that I am introverted, and that I just need a break from people. The hilarious result? I find myself feeling isolated and lonely. And as a follow up, I have noticed that my “wallflower” attitude sends out this subconscious message to people around me: don’t you dare come close to me.  

10.“You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” When I was in college, my roommate and I develop such a competitive edge that we coined a phrase around it. Whenever one or the other of us was jealous or feeling challenged, we’d say to the other, I can’t let you get ahead of me. Yes. Out loud. This attitude of competition, while sometimes friendly and lighthearted, also created a feeling of insecurity in me, like I am not good enough. Even in my adult life, it can look like my job isn’t good enough, my home isn’t big enough, my car isn’t clean enough. The great part is, now, I see how ridiculous it is to compare my life with anyone's. There’s an exercise in Baron’s book Being of Power where he challenges us to recognize that we don’t ever know a person’s full story. I have found this exercise useful in my life when I catch that competitive track playing in my head. So I stop, I accept exactly where I am and where I am not. It is wondrously freeing.

Travis-Michael Farrell is a father, husband, teacher, and writer. His favorite curse word rhymes with puck, he prefers The Beatles over Elvis, and he'll be a certified yoga instructor in March 2015. 

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"I Was Just There"

By Corey Richey

I began teaching yoga at Grace and Glory last spring. It is still funny to me to even say that, because, not that long ago, I believed yoga was for weird, hippie, granola eating, non-shaving, flowery people. I was NOT one of them. I was a competitive athlete my whole life. But a friend kept asking me to take a class, and the stress started piling up, and the weight started piling on. So I caved and I decided I would go to a class.

The reason I started yoga was because I needed to "learn how to relax." I thought that by going through the physical motions of yoga I would be able to "fix" myself and get rid of my need to keep busy. You see, with so much going on in the world, I have always suffered from a fear of missing out, a belief that if I was not constantly on the move or constantly including myself in activities, then I was missing out on life.

This constant "doing" has lead me to this simple fact: I am a brilliant author. My work has meaning and depth. It is interesting and imaginative. I've cultivated a main character from child to woman. I've added in guest characters and supporting characters who aid her in affirming her beliefs and views on the world. And, most brilliantly, the name of this fictional masterpiece: My Life.

My Life. Everything I have done, every situation I've been in, I have eloquently written. It's all a story. When I want to tell someone something that has happened, that is my version of the past. My memory of it. Because guess what the real kicker is: the past doesn't exist. It is gone.

Have you ever told a story and had someone say that they remembered it differently? Of course they remember it differently, it was written by a different author, with a different main character.

Consider for a moment that things happen. Things just happen. People make decisions and it means nothing. I have realized that I give things in my life meaning according to how it fits best with the main character of my story: me. I have been known to turn someone’s “failure” to wave to me into "that person hates me," or "that person doesn't want to include me in their plans," when in reality, maybe they just didn't see me. I have been living my life wrapped up in my own head, analyzing each moment. I have been living internally, preoccupied with either the past or the future. And again, I’ve constantly kept busy, thinking about what happened yesterday, making lists for what I have to do tomorrow, and breezing through each moment, just biding my time, waiting for the next big thing.

And then I found myself in Sedona, Arizona.

I waited and waited to go, but last week I completed Level One Baptiste yoga teacher training in Sedona, Arizona. The program asks the participants to do a ton of physical and emotional hard work. There were 170 of us, and when we arrived we all agreed to do the work. In that moment, I was angry and couldn’t wait to go home. In my story, I had done all of this already through my teacher training! It was a waste of my time, a waste of my money! So I decided I would just wait - bide my time until it was over. Sure, I’d take in what I felt like taking in and close this chapter of my life.

Then, on the second night I went for a walk with a few friends and ended up going to a shrine at the top of a trail. It was quiet. Too quiet. I was scared. I imagined that there were animals waiting to attack me. Then I laid down and stopped running through everything that could go wrong. In that moment, time almost stood still. I could see every star, hear things miles and miles away. It was beautiful.

There was nothing and everything in that moment. I was just there.

I had been feeling stuck in my life and in my thoughts. What I couldn't see was why I was feeling this way. I thought about the sky back home in Jersey. About how the smog and congestion from the cities had dimmed the stars. Being in the open dessert was like taking off a pair of glasses and wiping them clean. I could see, I could be. But with my lenses clean it was so clear: the congestion in my head, my story, my masterpiece, had been dimming my light. I didn’t want to be dim anymore, I wanted to shine.

So I stopped writing the book of my life. I realized how exhausting it has been living in my head, narrating each moment of my life. I felt free to live my life as it is happening, not as it has happened or may happen - but from each moment, going forward not back. Each moment is new and exciting and just as quickly as it happens, its gone. We can’t get the moments back. So I’m choosing to be present from moment to moment.

Being physically in a space is easy. When I was younger and in school, I would say "here" or "present" when the teacher said my name, because that what I was supposed to do, but then I would drift off into daydreams. I was physically "present" but not aware of life as it was happening around me. I no longer need to drift through the moments, waiting for the next big thing.

Be aware. Open your eyes and ears! Just stay. Look into people's eyes. Really see them, really hear them! Drop that little voice inside your head that is constantly narrating your story. Take in what is happening to you as it is happening, then move into the next moment. Simply choose to be. Right now.

Corey Richey loves reading, practicing yoga, playing games, and hanging out with her husband and their cats. Her favorite yoga pose is “half moon” because it’s a heart opener, hip opener, and balancing pose all in one!

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"Four Reasons for Forty Days" by Travis-Michael Farrell

Beginning Monday, February 16, Grace and Glory Yoga is hosting Baron Baptiste’s 40 Days to Personal Revolution program. I am really stoked that this has come around again! In the introduction to the 40 Days book Baron writes that this is a practical program for “real health” and is “a chance to use the tools in the book to stir things up and see what you are made of.” I can attest to this, having stirred up lots of good things over the last six months in my life. This will be my second time participating, and I thought I’d share with you four take aways from my first experience. 

What’s 40 Days to Personal Revolution all about? 

Community. There is a real community at Grace and Glory, and the meetings bring people together around a common goal. Personally, I find it comforting to know that these people - neighbors, colleagues, strangers, and relatives - are here for me to depend on. Before the 40 days, I never believed this support existed. The relationships I established in this program are real, because we all commit to taking off the masks that we wear in our daily lives and getting to the essence of what really matters - our common humanity. We’re all the same. Yes, really. We all have the same worries, doubts, hope and dreams. We all want the best for the people we love. Who doesn’t? And another part of this community is the realization that I matter, that I have something to offer. You’ll find that you do, too.

Inquiry. This work is what sets it apart for me, the reason I prefer Baptiste Yoga. The program asks me questions that open up my perspective. I took to this work with honesty, integrity, and sensitivity to the larger goal of personal transformation. By looking into my past, I’ve uncovered lies I’ve been telling myself and places I’ve been hiding. And through the introspection, I’ve tapped true personal potential and growth. Does this sound lofty, maybe? I can tell you this: in the past six months I’ve accomplish more towards my dreams thanks to the Baptiste methodology and the 40 Days program. I’ve committed to writing. I spend more time with my family. I’ve unceremoniously quit using alcohol. There’s been real serendipity, too, like finding out how much I have in common with people I work with, and with people who I’d only met through yoga. Full disclosure: there’s laughing and crying, too, but Forty Days has given me a sense of purpose, and opened me up to complete possibility. 

The Process. It may seem like a lot to stick something through for over a month - it really is a commitment. But taking each moment, day, and week as it comes, patiently, and doing the work as laid out in the program each step of the way, translates to transformation and personal awakenings. Results happen. I know how that sounds to you skeptics and cynics, believe me. But I also can attest first hand, as a well-trained skeptic and cynic, that putting my time in and doing the work made a difference in my job, my marriage, and my attitude towards those moments that used to really bother me. It’s a process, and the program is built to guide you through it day by day. Trusting in the process, even when I want to quit, even when I felt unsure, has brought me closer to understanding myself. The process - the work - works. 

It’s No Big Deal. The forty days helped me learn to lighten up in every moment in my life, from challenges at my job, to emergency situations, to my daughter having a melt down when I put too much tooth paste on her Anna and Elsa toothbrush. And yes, there are parts of this program that seem hard, no doubt. Especially in the beginning. Like stepping outside of my comfort zones, or, as I came to call them, uncomfortable zones. But the meetings and the work and the people involved are also a ton of fun. There is a new and better way of thinking which involves giving up struggle and not taking things so seriously. More specifically, I learned not to take myself so seriously. One of my favorite phrases in a Grace and Glory yoga class is “it’s just yoga.” And by extension, I’ve come to believe that all those big deals in my life are really just stories I’ve bought in to, some of them for decades. 

You are invited to come see for yourself. If you’re someone who is considering taking up yoga this is an opportunity to jump right in. Come and learn yoga! If you’re someone who wants to take your practice to the next level, practicing as much as possible for forty days will make a difference in all aspect of your life. Yes, I’d put money on that promise.

The 40 Day Program is a free program offered at the Grace and Glory Yoga studios. We go through Baron Baptiste's book 40 Days to Personal Revolution. Weekly, we'll meet and discuss the self-inquiry, diet, and meditation. We encourage a 5-6 days a week yoga practice. Meetings will be on Monday evenings at 7:30pm in both the Northfield & Fishtown studios. Monday, February 16 is the first meeting. Come as you are.

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"Jewel Box"by Maria Provenzano

At the top of this orange piece of rubber,

I am finding my feet.

 This is sacred time:

 There is an artist—I

can’t remember his name—

who makes ice sculptures

before sunrise and observes

them melt as the day gets warmer,

eventually soaking back into the soil.

 This is becoming.

This is coming undone.

 My hands pressed to my chest

as if in prayer,

I open my eyes

and look through my fingers.

 Did you know:

 Nebulae, the massive, star-forming clouds in space,

have such little density that If we brought one to earth,

it would weigh just a few pounds?

 I could fold it

into a box

and share this with you:

 “Look, my friend:

it contains all

the ingredients used

to make the universe.”

 It has jewels on the lid

and a lock and key

and it plays music

when you open it.

 If you put your hand inside,

it will disappear

softly into shimmering

blackness and dust.

 I look down through my fingers

and see the dark space there

for the first time

as soil, or sky: damp, imprecise

ingredient of the earth.

Maria Provenzano is a lover of animals, people, planets, and words. She is currently enrolled in Grace & Glory Yoga's Teacher Training Program.

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"Keep At It, Buddy" by Travis Michael Farrell

Early last fall, the time of year when I ride my bike to work and stop to take pictures of the sunrise, I was on the bike path up the street from my home and noticed a boy in his pajamas walking a German Shepard puppy. The dog was on a leash but she wasn't used to it and was bouncing in the air, leaping back and snapping at the leash. It was adorable, actually, except the boy was past the point of patience. He wasn’t angry, just frustrated. He was tugging back on the lead and calling the dog’s name, saying over and over again, Down, Maggie. Down. (Insert down dog yoga joke here). As I rode by, I felt the need to be encouraging, to acknowledge his efforts, so I said to him, keep at it, buddy.

On the afternoon before leaving for a teacher training weekend at Grace and Glory Yoga: Philly, I had a conversation with my wife, Barbara, where I opened up that I was feeling ambivalent, like I’d hit a plateau. I was happy to be going but I couldn’t get my head in the game. I was also feeling guilty about missing a post-holiday party for family who we didn’t get to see over Christmas. I was toying with the idea of taking half the day to join them. But Barbara was clear - I made a commitment to this training and I had to stick to it. 

I was glad that I did. The Saturday started with a refocusing meditation and two asana practices that plugged me right back in. At our first break, our line of inquiry work was exactly what I needed: explore five areas in life where I needed to commit or recommit. After consideration and a close conversation, my five commitments came out as follows:

1. Review My Goals Every Day

On January first I took the goal setting workshop at the Grace and Glory Yoga studio in Northfield. I made notes, listened to others, and worked knee to knee with a partner. I dug deep on what really matters to me and committed, in writing, to goals for one year, five years, and ten years from now. I got real specific too, using the appropriate wording. For example, I wrote, using the formula from the workshop, that In 2015 I will be one of life’s players in The Baptiste Yoga Community. On that Saturday though, I realized I hadn't even looked at my goals since January 1. It was a big wake up call. Clearly, if I were going to achieve anything I intended, it was a good idea to review those goals at least once a day. 

2. Be Kind to Myself

I am my toughest critic, my own worst enemy, and my loudest voice of doubt. I own that, it’s just something I’ve developed over time. But something shifted for me in an inquiry session on Saturday afternoon - I realized that I matter. That sounds cliche to me just writing it (fellow cynics out there know what I mean). So when someone says to me, Travis, I enjoy reading what you write, you really have a lot to offer, my inner-cynic’s reaction is to deny it, but I need to accept that a compliment is real. The truth is that through doing the work, I walked through this door of realization and saw a cascade of areas in my life where I matter a great deal, where people depend on me and where I am actually making a difference. I noticed that I need to take credit for - to commit to - who I am.

3. Stay Present

Baron Baptiste tells us that we are now here or nowhere. Yes. Keeping present is the best present. This work can seem so hard in today’s world - there’s distractions always there to take me out. But the screen time can wait, and when I catch myself wrapped up in the future or the past, I remember to re-set to reality and get grounded in the moment. This one means coming back and doing the work each time I fall out. And by doing the work - keeping present - I’ll always be exactly where I need to be.

4. Smile More 

…and be conscious of it. One of my favorite parts of my day is making my ten month old son, Jasper, smile. It’s a simple thing, but apparently, according to reasons to smile on lifehack.org, smiling releases endorphins, those powerful natural painkillers. And nine times out of ten its contagious. So, on my iPhone I set four alarms throughout the day, everyday. I’ve labeled these “smile more” and placed a goofy emoji face alongside the title. When they go off, I smile. And the cool thing is, while I am sitting here writing this, it makes me smile. Why take things so seriously all the time? Lighten up, Travis!

5. Take the Steps/Trust the Process

A friend of mine works in Manhattan. Whenever he has the choice he avoids elevators and escalators. He takes the stairs. The thing is, when it comes to doing the work, sometimes I want to just take the elevator. I don’t want to train for the metaphorical journey, I just want to sign up and magically end up at the destination. I have this expectation that because I want it, it should just happen. But when I slow down enough, I realize that everything I’ve accomplished in life has come through a series of steps that needed to be accomplished. And a big part of this is patience and trust. I know that Rome wasn’t built in a day, as they say, and that working from a place of trust - in the process, in myself, and in my support network - is more important than any destination. 

In his book Being of Power, Baron writes that inquiry is an ongoing practice throughout our lives. Transformation isn’t something that happens once and then we’re done; its a lifelong path of self-renewal and taking responsibility for ourselves. It takes humility to realize that yesterday’s transformation is today’s ego trip. I see that each day is a chance to recommit, to acknowledge where I am and where I want to be. So these commitments are part of my process, part of my lifelong path.

Yesterday morning, driving to work, I rolled up to the stop sign at the bike path and noticed the eight year old boy again. He was dressed for the January cold this time, in a ski cap and a heavy pair of winter gloves. He had Maggie with him, and I’d noticed how much she’d grown in the past four months. I also noticed their demeanor together - he was calm and casual and she had an easy, healthy stride. The leash was relaxed between them, and as he approached the crosswalk, Maggie took her seat at the curb, waiting for an instruction. When the boy saw I was letting them pass, he looked at the dog, and they crossed the street together, and as they did, I said to myself, keep at it, buddy.

Travis Michael Farrell is a father, husband, teacher, and writer. He prefers the Beatles over Elvis, and will be a certified yoga instructor in March 2015. 

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“Drishti - Really Seeing” By Lynn Weiler

I attended the recent workshop on drishti at Grace and Glory Yoga.  Heading in I thought myself, I know all about drishti.  I was ready! I mean, the teachers talk about it in every class right?  I totally got this. It’s a focal point. My gaze. It’s were I get my balance. I showed up with that mindset. I brought a willingness to learn more, but, to be honest, what more could I learn about a focused gaze? Sounds pretty self-explanatory to me.   

Surprise, surprise - there was so much more to learn and understand.  So. Much. More.

After the very first exercise we did my heart was pounding with enlightenment.  Maybe I actually didn’t know or understand drishti the way I thought I did.  I realized that, on a personal level, I wasn’t practicing drishti well at all. I understand that there is no right or wrong in yoga, but, goodness, my focus has been all over the place in class. More so in my life.

You see, drishti isn’t just for inside the yoga studio.  

I understood that I could apply drishti outside of the studio. This is just what I needed to hear! Drishti is a focused gaze and a way of developing a concentrated intention. Yes. 

So this got me thinking. All these days had I really been seeing my son? Really seeing him with a concentrated intention? Had I been putting my focus on him? Really looking at him? Listening to him? Really listening? Or had I been going through the motions of mothering?  Not just with my seven year old but in all areas of my life.

I left the workshop excited! Excited to learn more about drishti because I have a feeling that this new understanding is just the tip of the iceberg as far as this drishti business goes. I’m excited to practice drishti in the studio and out of the studio. That night I couldn’t wait to get home to my boy; to focus and just stare at his toothless face. To listen, really listen to every word that comes out of that toothless seven year old mouth.

Life is fast. It’s but a vapor, really. Without drishti we are just floating along and going through the motions. I am challenging myself (and you!) to cut out the distractions and to see! Really SEE what’s right in front of us with a focused gazed and some good ol’ intention.  

My yoga practice is new and exciting and that’s just the way I hope to keep it.  At the present time my practice is in the beginning stages of a journey; a journey that I can grow into, grow old with and learn from. Its like that favorite old sweater that we all have tucked in the back of our closets. You know - the one that you run to on the damp cold days because it’s warm and familiar? My hope is that my yoga practice becomes that sweater. That, one day, through inquiry work on drishti and other components of yoga study, my practice is so familiar to me yet so very exciting all at the same time; a practice to be comforted by during the damp cold days that life tosses my way and a celebration on the happier care free days. 

Lynn Weiler is a dedicated mother, runner, and an active member of the Grace and Glory Yoga community.

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"Community and Core Values" by Amanda Strube

There was zero magic in my first yoga class. In fact, I got kicked out. I swore off yoga, made fun of it and generally just hated on it. Then my boyfriend of five years dumped me and left me heart broken and devastated. I coped by using drugs and alcohol, and headed down a self-destructive path straight to Rockbottom-ville. Then, one September evening a friend showed up, uninvited, to my pity party. She threw yoga clothes at me, practically forced me in to her car, and drove me to a tiny yoga studio. Apparently, my rock bottom was padded with a yoga mat.

My first class at Grace and Glory Yoga kicked my ass and left my face streaked with sweat and tears. I was sore, but I was in love. So I went back, again and again.

There are things I learn in class, as both a student and a teacher, that help me in life outside the studio. One of the most beneficial tools I learned was how to breathe. That may sound funny because we all know how to breathe, but yoga taught me how to use my breath. Instead of quick panicky breaths when a pose or life gets hard, I can now use the deep ujjayi breath to calm me down and get through the seemingly hard stuff that class or life might throw at me. Along with the physical aspect of being stronger and more flexible, I learned to sync my breath to my movements and it has created a natural flow that makes things easeful and it makes me feel like I am dancing with God. It is my prayer or conversation with God either asking for something I need or simply giving thanks.

I also learned how to see the things that are right in front of me. I am usually that person who looks in the fridge for something and says its not there even when it’s literally right in front of my face. I am always walking into tables, chairs and doorknobs. Now that I stop and look at what I am really seeing, I have a lot less bruises! I am also starting to notice little, beautiful details in my life, like the little tufts of hair that come off my cats ears or the way the steam coming off my morning coffee gets tangled with the air. When you can notice the things that are happening right in front you, life doesn’t seem as “boring” or mundane.

My anxiety and depression are kept at bay, for the most part. Now when I am feeling anxious or sad, I know that it will pass, just like the burning sensation in my legs will subside when Eagle pose is over. Ultimately, every moment will pass: good, bad, happy or sad, everything only happens for a moment.

I am a better listener, and not just because I was tired of being called out on being in the wrong pose or facing the wrong side, but because listening is a necessary skill to have in life. Listening is important whether it is to yourself and your body or if you’re listening to your best friends boy problems.

Grace and Glory and Baptiste Yoga created a major shift in my life. Yoga has taught me to see things in a new way. To really see things differently and then live from that different vantage point.

I belong to a community that allows me to be wholly me without feeling judged. I have only felt love and support as a student, teacher and leader of the Grace and Glory family.

Yoga has seeped into every part of my life.  It gives me permission to stop, slow down and take a breath, which allows me to see opportunities I would never notice otherwise and it gives me confidence to take those chances. I have had numerous travel opportunities to Nicaragua to share my passion and love of yoga and I have even scored some of the best waves of my life because of yoga. I know that the world is being opened up to me through yoga.

My relationships have improved. I am less reactive, which allows me to genuinely be open to connecting with people. I know that being vulnerable with someone is the most valuable thing in the world because it allows you to show your true self. It also teaches me to live with integrity with in my practice but even more so in my life outside of practice. This means giving 100% in my life, even if I know I can get away with something less.

Being a part of the Grace and Glory community has shown me what it means to love and be loved. As a student I feel safe to explore in my practice, to fall apart if I need to and to accept where I am in that particular practice.

This community has drawn out my core values; adventure, love, integrity and passion for learning. The deeper I get into my practice the deeper my values get rooted and the more space I create to discover new morals.  Yoga gives me the tools to navigate through life, the ultimate adventure.

Amanda Strube loves yoga, running, surfing and traveling. She's a teacher/leader at Grace and Glory Yoga.

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"On Simplicity" by Cody Robert McGregor

I have always fought simplicity: multi-tasking, anxiously looking at things from every perceived angle, and building simple tasks up to insurmountable mountains. It’s like I pile so much on my plate that I can't even see the fork I need to start working through it. By never focusing on one thing for very long, I experienced everything with some distance. I never allowed myself to sit with anything and, as a result, things never got real.

It's why yoga is my practice.

My breakthrough was an espresso. There was nothing insanely unique about the coffee, no place of origin listed, no marketing campaign surrounding it, not even a list of tasting notes for me to ponder. I didn't even know who roasted it. Just a shot of espresso in plain white ceramic with a glass of seltzer water on the side. It was so well prepared that it didn't have to hide behind anything. I noticed that dressing it up would ultimately detract from what was really there, and that it was easier to present it as simple as possible.

That espresso reminded me of the first time I took a really far bicycle ride. I'd driven down the roads hundreds of times before, but being on my bike - stripped of the barrier of an automobile - made my surroundings feel exotic. I saw everything for the first time without the clutter of an everyday commute distracting me. That is what real feels like. All the unnecessary layers heaped on everything are just dirty car windows, barriers blocking my vision of what is right in front of my face. 

I didn't have that tool at my first class at Grace and Glory Yoga. I was barely peering over those barriers of I'm not doing this right and pull your shirt down, you're too chubby and, the tallest one, this sucks, I hate everything, I quit. All those walls still come up every single class, but I'm getting better at leaving them up less and less. 

In a recent yoga class, a teacher read this passage from The Velveteen Rabbit and all of the barriers came down, and I sobbed.

You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.

Coming to my yoga practice in this new way of being has finally allowed me to understand how it's a beautiful dance rather than anguish. I got the come join us out here in the real world thing, and in those moments where I step out of the cocoon I connect with something authentic. I saw glimpses of life outside of my physical and mental hiding places. I saw how glorious dropping what doesn't serve me feels and how liberating it is to be vulnerable. 

So when I slip up and I pull the comfortable layers back up and hide from reality, I come to my mat and I give that up. When I'm in my body rather than in my head, I see the beauty in these poses. I feel the childlike sense of wonder that comes from playing without fear of judgement or ridicule. I see over and over how crippling coming at anything with an expectation is. But more than anything, my yoga practice amounts to 90 minutes a day where I have nothing to focus on but celebrating my breath. 

Loud, messy, triumphant celebration. 

I feel, deeply in my chest, this infinitely complex system working to keep me moving forward. Outside of class it's something I don't pay attention to at all, and yet it's still there. And the fact that it's there perpetually working in beautiful synchronicity at all is truly a miracle.

Beauty is never complicated. It’s as simple as a cup of coffee or a fully felt inhale. Stripping away enough to discover the sheer improbability in anything coming together at all has granted me a perspective that could only end in gratitude. Everyday, I try to see the things I might take for granted as a miracles that beg to be cherished. The only way I can do that is to act purposefully and simply; to slow down and appreciate what's in front of me. I find real beauty when I slow down, focus, shut up, and dig.

I pledge to drop the barrier everyday. Over and over. I drop the small talk with family members. I drop the mindless phone checking - it's only purpose in my life is to skirt around what's really there. By slowing down, and taking care to appreciate each step of my process, things I've done for as long as I can remember are now momentary miracles. These tasks have gone from mundane chores to acts of celebration. My plate feels less full and the mountains are definitely surmountable.That breathing room is where I find things like gratitude, ease, and awe. It's where I see that nothing real is scary. In fact, it’s the act of letting things be real that matters more than anything. 

Cody Robert is a yoga teacher trainee, coffee obsessive, and outdoor enthusiast devoted to service and community growth.

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"Digging Deep. Getting Clear." by Brittney Bruno

I used to see the world through thick, foggy, bullshit covered goggles. I was in a constant state of worrying about what people thought of me and spent hours making sure I was doing the right things, following the right trends, and listening to the right music. It was a never-ending cycle of self-torture to be socially perfect. I had 0% self esteem and 100% self doubt. I was always glued to my phone, watching what someone else was doing or reading articles on things that didn’t even matter.

I was not living. I existed. I was constantly in my head and never out in the present moment where real life things were happening. On many occasions I would get home from somewhere and not remember my entire drive because I was in my head. I missed out on countless family events because I was busy wishing I wasn’t there. I use to spend dinners at my grandparents house on my phone. Memories that could’ve happened were entirely lost. One day while in the usual fog, my grandfather had what we thought at the time was a stroke and it shook me to my core. I thought for a split moment that I was going to loose him and that I crushed the chance at something so beautiful - a closer relationship with him. Luckily God was on our side and he made it out just fine.

This moment turned on a light switch inside me. Something was wrong with my behavior and I was the one creating my own misery. It occurred to me that I needed serious change and only I could do it.

I realized that there was a bigger purpose. By a bigger purpose I mean taking care of what mattered most in my life. I knew in my heart that I wanted to create something beautiful in my life. I could feel it in my bones that I had so much to offer, to my family, my friends, and even people I didn’t know.  A giant brick wall was blocking my way. I went searching for something to tear it down. I tried a lot of things but nothing was working. I needed to feel like I was fulfilling my life’s purpose.

I had done yoga before, but it had been a while. I felt a fire burning inside me and so I went anyway. Then I found Grace and Glory Yoga.

First, I was afraid of what people would think of me when I showed up and could hardly get into down dog. I fell down - a lot. I couldn’t touch my toes and I got really pissed every time they asked me to smile. I wanted to quit on many occasions but I pushed through my mind telling me no. I wanted to be a yes. Even though it seemed hard, I kept going. I remember a teacher saying, the magic happens when you stay. So I stayed, and something magic did happen. Yoga didn’t seem hard anymore; it started to feel like going to church. I would go and rinse all of the toxic thoughts out of my body. It cleared my mind of the daily bullshit. I created bonds with people that are unbreakable through letting them see me vulnerable. Through all the sweat, tears, laughter and hugs, I started to really live.

Suddenly life was full of color and was more interesting then ever. I put my phone down, and had full conversations with my family. I’m present when I’m with them. I give them the full me. I had clearing conversations with both my mother and father for not loving and appreciating them fully. It sparked such an amazing relationship with the both of them. It was something I never even thought of doing before. I now look into my grandparent’s eyes when they tell me they love me, and I am thankful for every single moment I have with each of them.

Self doubt and low self-esteem can be entirely demolished through shifting the way you see the world – as long as you keep showing up and doing the work. I promise.

Realizations keep happening. I see the beauty of nature with deeper clarity. I fell in love with myself – with who I am and the way I am. I appreciate that my body and my life are a gift. I realized that I am powerful and that the entire universe is a miracle and I am a part of it. I dug so deep to get clear on what wasn’t working in my life. I got rid of the things that didn’t serve me and welcomed everything that did.

I have so many goals and I realized how tangible they are when I took my goggles off at Grace and Glory Yoga. I'm incredibly grateful. I found and pursued my love for art, yoga and people. I started to sell my paintings, joined the GGY teacher training and began writing a blog about human connection. I'm so proud of myself for doing this work because it transformed my entire life. I finally started living from my true self and I can only imagine what the coming year has to hold for me.

Brittney Bruno is currently training to be a yoga instructor with Grace and Glory Yoga. She's a college student and an artist. She’s committed to act of service and to giving people a space to tell their personal, inspiring stories on her blog, Ordinary Beings.

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"Equanimity & Presence: Parts of the Puzzle" by Travis Farrell

On Sunday afternoon I was practice teaching with friends at Grace and Glory Yoga’s Seva Studio in Ocean City. We decided to run the sequence non-stop, like a class, and we’d each take sections from Baron Baptiste’s Journey Into Power card. I drew the equanimity or “balancing” section. I love these poses because I am always good and warmed-up by the time they come around, and that first breath in Eagle Pose always makes me feel lit up. The balancing poses are hard. True. Some days I am better on my left foot than my right. Sometimes my left hip aches and screams. Once in a while I’ll sway like a palm tree in a Florida hurricane. And even on occasion I’ll take myself out and hang, frustrated, in forward fold. It gets like that. 

Since I’ve learned the meaning of “equanimity,” I’ve come to be a lot more forgiving with myself in this series, letting go of judgement and accepting where I am at in each moment. 

Equanimity assumes presence, and for presence, my four year old daughter is my greatest teacher. I can be so easily caught up in something else - doing the dishes, my phone, packing a school bag for the day. And then I hear my daughter ask me to make a puzzle with her, or play school, or watch her ballet moves. I am tempted to put her off, and sometimes I do, but I know I have to pause and be present, because this moment will never come again. I will never again have that chance to be present in her life. Sounds dramatic, right? But the more I put off those invitations, the less those invitations will come. I’m no saint and I’m far from perfect. But at my best, I find the time - the now, and sit with Ella to sing the alphabet song, or finish working on her puzzle, or be an audience for her dance show. 

The other morning I had extra time before I had to leave for work. Somehow I was running early. So I sat with my pancakes and coffee and did a puzzle with Ella. She was so excited.  We sang songs and she reminded me of our snowball fight the day before. We took turns with the puzzle pieces. I showed her how to organize them by color - the light blue sky color goes here, the auburn hair braid color goes there, here’s a face, there’s a face. We made great progress. When it was her turn, she’d get real excited and give me a high thumb (It’s like a high five, but it’s your thumb. Try it.)  Then, when we made the border, she saw the whole thing coming together. An eye became eyes, which turned into a nose and a whole smiling face. She kept going, and when we placed the last piece she double fist pumped over her head and she said “Ella power!” I felt completely alive in that moment. I’d never heard her say that before, and to think I would've missed it if I hadn't just sat and had breakfast, there, with her in that moment.

So. Freaking. Cool. 

The takeaway here is that phrase “extra time.” None of us has extra time - we all have the same 24 hours to puzzle together each day. I realized that moment and made the most of it. 

But parenting, as any parent will tell you, isn’t all pancakes and puzzles and high thumbs. Listen, I am grateful for my precious children. But there’s teething and tantrums and potty training too. My nine month old son screams at such a high pitch it rings in my ears for a half hour or more after the fact. Every so often, if Ella doesn’t get her way, she explodes in long, dramatic lamenting wails. I used to worry that the neighbors would come knocking on the door. Fortunately, I’m not alone here. Brian, a friend at work, remembers being up all night when his daughter was getting teeth. He shared with me that he got so frustrated once that he tried to eat his pillow (I didn't ask him to elaborate). I also know that my children will grow older and there will be a whole world of moments to deal with at every age.

The thing to remember is that I want to be present for these moments, too, because they don’t last forever. They always pass. They're just pieces of the 24 hour puzzle. The best thing to do is to meet myself right here, right now. The more I let myself feel in that moment, the easier is will be to recognize moments like them when they arise again. 

Just like when I am shaking in airplane pose, with the sweat dripping off my nose and running rivulets down my standing leg. I know I won’t be holding that pose forever, and I know that I have a choice how to think and react in that moment - I can freak out and fall out and berate myself and hate myself - This is crazy. This pose is too hard. I should just put my foot down, or take forward fold, or I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. That voice creeps in from time to time, I admit. 

But then I can open my eyes and draw awareness to my breathing. I can chose to check in to the moment, focus on my presence, and draw on my drishti. I feel the room around me and listen to the voice of the teacher. I look forward, I reach forward. I feel my hips burning, my arms shaking, my back arching, my heel grounding down. It reaches a fever pitch, and then, just like that, the moment is gone. 

[graceandgloryyoga-blog]

TRUE NORTH

A guest post from Laurie J. Egrie - educator, perpetual learner, lover of life, Baptiste Yogi, and soon to be yoga teacher.  Working to make the world a better place.

Tadasana is the true north of all yoga poses on and off the mat. The name goes beyond the yoga pose itself.  When we align ourselves we can move towards our greater purpose.  Standing in my true north allows me to flow from my core, the place where I integrate my body and mind and set my sights on what kind of light I want to be in this world.  Since beginning Baptiste Yoga a year ago I frequently hear in class, we have all that we need. When I think about it and pay attention, the universe really does give me what I need - the easy and the hard – I celebrate both when I come to my mat. Baron writes:

How and why you got here isn’t as important as how and where you’re going. 

Going through this inquiry process I am setting my sights on my true north - aligning myself, from head to toe. In Baron’s words - this is whole-life integration.

I don’t always know what it will look like but I consider that part of the journey. I get comfortable with not knowing.  When I say ‘I don’t know’ is when I allow for authentic transformation to occur.  The breakthroughs happen for me in these moments. Playing it safe serves no one. This is when I remind myself to breathe, trust in the work, and move to my edge.

Tadasana. Stand tall. 

In yoga we know this as mountain pose. Feet grounded down to the earth, arms reaching up, shoulder blades integrated, fingers sparked like fireworks! Look up and see what’s possible. Create space for something new! I hear teachers say in class. Different dreams, wishes and desires arise. Tadasana - such a powerful pose.  Tadasana is much more than just a pose.

It is true-north alignment.

The December 26, 2014 BYO Friend practice allowed me to stand in my true north. The intention was to practice at my yoga hOMe with my two sisters. This was really special for me because it would be the first time we all practiced together. I was excited, knowing I would be with my sisters, surrounded by chosen family, with Allie leading the class. I was exactly where I needed to be. What I received that day was so much more than I could have ever imagined.  

As I checked in for the three of us, I felt the place was buzzing with energy. I noticed there were mats lined up in the lobby.  I was totally ready to practice right there if my sisters could be next to me. While I was busy giving giant hugs and hellos, I looked up and Allie said, your assisting today. I said, Okay! and then thought, What me? Assisting? Really? A few other teachers in training approached me with huge smiles and told me they were also assisting. I responded a grateful, Me too. My sisters were so excited; it was really cool to have them right there with me for this experience. 

I went into the studio to greet a few friends and the joyous hellos and hugs in this community of sweaty huggers made my brain buzz even more. Looking around and seeing many of my yoga teachers on their mats brought tingles up and down my spine. The studio was packed and there were people waiting for a spot. This is my favorite kind of class, mat-to-mat, with family and chosen family. My heart was lit up! I looked around at my community, seeing so many beaming hearts that I love. I stood in my true north, considered what was possible, and embraced the opportunity to be of service.

As class began, I thought, Wow! I am actually going to be giving back to people who are a stand for helping me grow. The energy from my core was radiating out of my entire body and into the hearts and bodies of my community. At that moment of being a yes, having no idea what it would look like, I trusted myself and my leader. I was given the gift of service. The smiles on the faces of my fellow teachers in training and the energy exchanged as we passed each other silently spoke the same message. 

Tap into your internal compass and find your true north.

I listened to the ujjayi breath in the room and joined in. I witnessed strong bodies in beautiful poses, standing in their true north, and graciously I felt like I was flowing with them. My eyes were wide open. Throughout the class I poured my energy into each person I was graced to assist. My attention was super aware of Allie calling the poses and I was prepared to dodge legs, arms, blocks, and water bottles. It was like a graceful dance in, around, and over people. I continued through class without one minute of fear or doubt, all because I trusted and followed my true north – my spiritual power. 

I’d like to close with a few rays of sunshine from the rest of class. First, I could really feel the positive energy and the love projected on me by my sisters, fellow teachers in training, yoga teachers, and strangers that smiled at me. There was mother-daughter yoga, too. How sweet that your bestie is your mom or your daughter! A spotlight for me was Lauren and her young daughter, Lily, joining their hands in Tree Pose. It is ingrained in my heart. As I assisted I thought about how much I love to receive assists. They allow me to deepen a pose, correct my form, help me to flow like water, use less energy, push me to my edge, and give me love. All these gifts, for free, at the hands of a loving heart. I was the giver of these gifts and my heart is still bursting with joy. It was like the holidays continued. Thank you for allowing me to deepen your pose and my purpose. What a gift I received from assisting others into their true north. 

[graceandgloryyoga-blog]

The Greatest Gift

A blog post from the heart by our new Editor Travis Farrell. Teacher, husband, dad, yogi, human. 

In the story "The Greatest Gift" by Philip Van Doren Stern, a man, George, gets to see what the people in his life would have been like had he never been born (spoiler alert: they're super trashy without him around). Since he was a boy he's lived his life in service to others. It's his nature. But, in the beginning of the story, he falls despondent and contemplates jumping off a bridge. The story was made famous by the Frank Capra film It's a Wonderful Life starting Jimmy Stewart. It's a great film, and a great lesson in perspective. I was reminded of the movie in a master class at the Grace and Glory Yoga teacher training last weekend, where Nicole, one of the owners and leaders, invited us to focus on the blessings that we have in life and the blessing that we are for people in our lives.

I've been coming to Grace and Glory for a year and the work I've done has transformed my life. I am a better person. I have more patience as a father, more compassion as a husband, and deeper presence of mind in each moment. The inquiry work - introspective meditations and writing and conversations - have led me to see the world through a wider lens. It's like switching the camera angle from mouse vision to eagle vision. When I'm playing small, I am George on that bridge, out in the cold, staring down into the icy waters and missing all that is worth living for. The gift of yoga has given me tools to rise up, to shift my own point of view and see the bigger picture, the blessings. The possibilities from this shift are exponentially bigger and the blessings keep coming. 

Yes. Grace and Glory is a place where I find the space I need to work things out. Like my relationship with my father. And my gripes about my job. And everything else that comes down to this: my relationship with myself. It's a place where I find support to do the work I need to do each day. In classes and workshops I am given clear and simple directions each step of the way, tools to use when my thinking gets small. I'm challenged to step out of the comfort zone, to lay down the mask and to be honest with myself. But the big joke is that comfort zone isn't all that comfortable, and when I step outside of it, the shift happens.

There's more.

George is guided through his realizations by a good natured angel named Clarence Odbody. My yoga practice is my Clarence, always there for me to tune in, to breathe, to help me lighten up on when my head gets heavy. Just like George realizes his role in his community - that's he's a decent and dependable guy - Grace and Glory Yoga offers space to be of service. 

There's always a chance to step up. When a young colleague of mine passed away suddenly a year ago we organized a community practice as a fund raiser for her loving husband and their toddler. Through the month of November our studio raised money for a family coping with cancer, and on Thanksgiving we packed the studio and practiced in gratitude for her presence and commitment (she practices every day!). And tomorrow, on Christmas Day, my family and a dozen others members of the studio will be at a local church, serving a Christmas dinner that's organized by a fellow yogi and teacher. We're up to big work, being of service, and keeping the heart-fires stoked.

In the end of the story George sees the blessings he is in people's lives and Clarence's leaves him a note: "Remember, George, no man is a failure who has friends." Yeah, it's like that. The gift of yoga at Grace and Glory is the leader in the room who shares from the heart and leaves me knowing that we're all in this together. Sometimes this is a simple anecdote taken from the teacher's day or week, but it leads to is a core value, a human connection, a root feeling we all have in the pit of our belly. A real connection happens when I realize that, under the skin and muscle and bone, we're all the same. I know that, both on and off my mat, I have a place where I belong.

[graceandgloryyoga-blog]

Put out your gratitude for the world to see and share it.

We asked Amy Sullivan, a member of our Philly Teacher/Leader team, to share some simple thoughts around our #12daysofgrace Wellness Challenge. Amy has been with out team since we opened in April 2012. When not painting in her Fishtown apartment or sweating at the studio, you can find Amy educating the masses on the why's of luon at lululemon athletica Walnut Street. We are so glad we have her. 

"To be completely honest, when I first heard about an instagram/facebook challenge I wasn’t thrilled.  Typically I’m the one who scrolls right passed those types of things.  But, in the spirit of the holidays and for the love of my studio, I decided I’d put my best effort into our #12daysofgrace challenge.  

The first day’s challenge started a conversation for me that hasn’t stopped internally.  

Write a gratitude list of twelve specific people or things.

Ok, easy enough.  But as I began to write the list I felt really overwhelmingly grateful.  Not just surface level thankful, but immensely blessed.  I looked at my list and thought damn, shit’s good right now.  I didn’t necessarily have that awareness thirty minutes ago, but I feel full of joy right now.  

I need these reminders.  I need to take a ten sometimes and find the bliss in the ordinary and every day.  Life is a bitch, but it’s a damn miracle at the same time.  For every time I have fallen to my knees [and there have been many] I can say with certainty I have always risen taller than I started.  For that I am grateful.  

So this has been my lesson, write a list.  I’m a visual person anyway so it all makes sense.  

Put out your gratitude for the world to see and share it.

I’ll be reminding myself constantly that when I feel overwhelmed and out of sorts that I have much to be thankful for.  And when I look at that list I’ll be reminded there’s a lot of loving and living to do- the bills can wait."