Archive for the ‘yoga’ Category

Less Is More

Sunday, August 1st, 2010

All it took was one email in my inbox to make me smile. Oh, there were plenty of other messages there, from spam and scams to Facebook notices and must-see YouTube links. But this one I read and read again. Like discovering a lone poppy in bloom among the mounds of crab grass, I paused and savored what I saw.

Here it is, from guest blogger Debbie Flamini, who shares her insights into the essence of living your yoga while living with PD. Enjoy.

FINDING BALANCE

by Debbie Flamini

Less is more, is more or less

What my body needs, to not feel stress

No body stress leads to Cinderella Days

How do I get there?  Let’s count the ways!

Consider less is more in everything you do

From yard work to exercise, even laundry too

Stop competing with the body you owned before

Your current one still works, right down to the core

Your yoga practice is beautiful, body and soul

And isn’t self-acceptance a very admirable goal?

So what has PD given me, that’s positive and good?

A yoga practice more meaningful, one that’s understood.

April

Sunday, March 28th, 2010

April is Parkinson’s Disease Awareness Month.

Any of us with Parkinson’s are already well aware of the disease. That must mean that April is our stretch of thirty days to publicly whine and curse and . . .

Oh, wait. No. I’m thinking that this month might be better spent finding ways to:

- share treatment and support information with those who are newly diagnosed.
- focus on exercise, nutrition and well-being for ourselves and our families.
- educate others about the disease to help dissuade misconceptions and fears.
- learn about the latest research: knowledge is power.
- consider taking part in a clinical trial.
- maintain a sense of humor.
- keep practicing your yoga.
- stay connected to one another.

An occasional whine is okay, too.

Namaste.

Post to Post

Monday, March 15th, 2010

I’m a Facebook junkie. I post. I read recent posts. I send messages, upload photos, visit walls. I like how I can keep up-to-date with my nieces or college friends, logging in at any time of day, even at the insomnia hour between 3:00 and 4:00 am.

Something yogic exists in the in-the-moment aspect of reading and writing FB posts. I feel I’ve been invited to share where someone goes, what his or her current status is, what’s going on.

A letter from my niece, Kate,  however, is shedding light on my view. A letter, yes. The kind written by hand with a pen on sheets of paper, folded into an envelope that carries a stamp and gets delivered by actual post to a real mailbox with a hinged metal door.

The difference between posts and the letter I received by post, besides the tactile feel of holding the words Kate wrote, derives  from the words themselves. The sentences express more than a quick rehash of what my niece has been up to.  I could tell she’d taken her time, thought about what she wanted to say, mulled it over, and shared with me not so much the week’s high and low points but how she felt about them. The yogic quality of this letter taps in to her moments but also to an awareness and a witnessing of her life in those moments.

My new yogic view of reading my FB home page is that it’s akin to holding a pose, both call on  immediate and focused attention. Reading Kate’s letter, however,  compares more to yogic breathing. Both bring a depth of mindfulness to the immediate moment.

Oh, I’ll still log in to my FB page daily, just as I work on various poses each day.  I will also pause to consider,  breathe in life’s energy, allow thoughts to flow on to paper.  I will write more letters.

When Life Hands You Lemons . . .

Monday, January 25th, 2010

. . . don’t simply make lemonade.

Bake.

Baking is about creation. It’s about changing a list from flour to nuts into a dessert or breakfast treat. Whether it’s melding butter with chocolate or combining raspberries with ground almonds, the result enhances the finest flavors of each ingredient.

Yoga. like baking, is about transformation. This shift can happen in my body when I’m molding myself into into hero pose, or in my mind when I’m gazing at the flicker of a candle. The rigidity in my Parkinson’s muscles lets go of some tension, and the chatter – from fears of future symptoms to frustration with the current ones – empties from my thoughts.  This change, this shift, maintains the essence of who I am – my list of ingredients – drawing out what’s most flavorful.

Sometimes, a cool glass of lemonade can be refreshing.  But, making it is less a creation to me than a means of masking the taste with sugar and diluting it with water. I want to bring out the natural tang of the fruit. I want to create a lemon meringue pie, lemon squares, lemon poppyseed cake, lemon drop cookies.

To transform the lemons in your life-with-movement-disorders basket into a delight, bake something. And, of course, practice yoga.

Nuts and Raisins

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

I need to cut nuts out of my diet. Cheese, too.

Sadly, red wine as well. Ditto on the avocados, soy products, vinegar, dried fruit.

If I included any of the above in meals or snacks, a monstrous migraine ensued.
This recent phenomenon of light-sensitive, eyeball-searing pain was a tag-along side effect of
one of my meds. I hadn’t expected such a severe reaction to what was considered beneficial
to take.

Emerging from a particularly nasty skull-exploding episode, I shuffled into the kitchen,
slumped at the counter, hungry, drained, and wondering what I could possibly eat that wouldn’t,
quite literally, go to my head.

Crackers? No, there are nuts and soy it the ingredients list. PB&J? No,
the protein in the peanut butter would battle with my meds, not to mention nut’s
place on the anti-migraine list.

I boiled a pot of white rice and daringly added a touch of olive oil and a dash of salt.
That was lunch. I cut up some broccoli to mix with it for dinner. Woo hoo.

OMG, I thought. I’m already losing weight, and it’s not as though the foods
I need to avoid are loaded with transfats and high fructose corn syrup. Nuts? Avocados?
Those are the good fats. I won’t even begin to list the benefits of a glass of Merlot.

Hoping to come across a magical non-cheese-nut-soy recipe, I leafed through a cooking magazine.
An ad caught my eye. The banner across the top read:
“To create something truly unique, one must look beyond the expected.”

At first, I thought, how true. Isn’t when we’re caught off guard that the most notable
events occur? Or when we’re searching for something, we often find it in an unlikely spot,
whether that something is a pair of glasses or the answer to why we uttered words
we’d like to take back.

Glancing again at the glossy page,  I noticed that it wasn’t promoting the art of deeper
relationships or clever ways to enhance my skill with a paintbrush. The ad was for raisins.

Raisins?

Surely if the act of adding some dried grapes to a sauce deemed me artistic, I could find a
creative solution to this migraine mess that had left me so disappointed.

I studied the ad more closely. The yogi in me decided that no matter how hard I looked for benefits
of the medication, the reality was that the negatives were outweighing the positives.  I started to wean off the meds. Life is too short not to drink red wine with my avocado salad.

Every one of us deserves the best treatment available. I’ve learned, however, not to expect that each treatment will work for me. I now approach my diet and my day with this translation of the quotation:

“To truly create a unique experience, witness without expectation.”

Atlanta Braves

Wednesday, September 30th, 2009

Thank you, all of you who braved the weather and the stresses of travel, for the opportunity to share some yoga together at the ST/Dystonia conference in Atlanta. I so enjoyed meeting you and being part of your weekend’s events.

Speaking of events, the one going on simultaneously in the meeting rooms before ours displayed racks of gowns, untold wigs, scores of sparkly shoes, mounds of makeup and more. The true beauty, however, emanated from the faces I saw when I stood upon the mini stage with my yoga mat and looked out at all of you.

Yoga Teacher Training

Tuesday, September 15th, 2009

On November 7, I’ll be part of the team who will lead a workshop for yoga instructors on working with Parkinson’s patients. I am so looking forward to sharing.

I know that as I will gaze around the room at the collected teaching experience, I will be thrilled, humbled, honored.

I don’t propose to have the answers. If I did, the medical staff and I wouldn’t be there – there’d be no Parkinson’s.

What I do hope to share is my experience with other instructors so they can help people living with PD truly benefit from yoga practice.

It is not a matter of simply introducing a chair to the mat, or adjusting a student more often. Certain positions – and adjustments – can trigger tremors and spasms, overheating can happen rapidly. It is a matter of understanding the disease and its effects.

Yoga is no cure. It is, however, a healing path. I know that yoga teachers know that. My hope is that I can place a few more tools in their supply kit.

For more information, or to register, click here:

http://www.bu.edu/parkinsonsdisease/documents/yoga.pdf

Parivrtta Svanasana, Turning Dog Pose

Wednesday, August 12th, 2009

It is said that the asana limb of yoga began when ancient yogis emerged from their meditation caves creaky and stiff from long stints of sitting still. They discovered that some movement enabled them to recenter and return to their blissful states.

These newly flexible yogis titled a handful of poses after legendary gods. They derived others from their observations of the natural world, naming some after legendary dogs.

These faithful canines likely woke from their cave naps just as my dog today rises from her cushy bed, reaching first into upward-facing dog directly into downward-facing dog.

Up dog opens the front body, a real tail-wagger to anyone with PD who’s feeling that forward curl in their posture. Down dog, a favorite among practitioners today, stretches and strengthens the back and shoulders, lengthens the hamstrings and calves. It’s an all-around good dog, as is its half counterpart.

As I emerge from stints of sleep, creaky and stiff from lying in one position for too long, I’ve discovered that the yogis left out a pose. Maybe the caves were too dark at night to observe another in the line of canine-inspired asanas: turning dog.

Mystified at my inability to roll over – a real trick with PD, one might say – I decided to watch how the dog changed sleeping positions.

She gets up. Yes, the dog gets out of her bed, stands, reaches her neck and each leg slightly before she turns and folds back down.

It works. Sure, getting out of bed is a struggle. But less so than turning in bed. After a slight stretch of arms and legs, I turn, fold back down and return to my blissful state.

A Little Bird Told Me

Monday, July 13th, 2009

I learned something the other day from a feathered pet that fits on my finger.

It makes me wonder if Billy Bob the Lovebird was a yogi in his past life because, beyond his flexible, acrobatic ability is his instinctive sense of ahimsa, a non-harming, natural gentleness with himself.

Read more about it in my guest blog, Smart Bird, on the Life with Dystonia site: http://www.lifewithdystonia.com

The Universal Language of Yoga

Wednesday, July 8th, 2009

A highlight of my recent travels in Paris was attending a yoga class in a small neighborhood studio. Though the instructor’s English was flawless, she taught in her native tongue. All those high school body part vocab lists uploaded in my brain – arm, leg, right, left, breathe. I recognized the words for strong while in warrior pose and solid while in mountain. The very same descriptions that I use. Somehow, though, they held a certain beauty listening to them in French.

In the calm of her gentle class, she allowed for moments of self-reflection in and between poses, where she spoke one phrase again and again: Ouvrez le coeur, Open the heart. The repetition wasn’t because we didn’t understand her words, it was because that reminder is worth repeating in any language.