Lessons from India by Julie Pasqual

           I left for India telling anyone who had taken my class in weeks prior to my leaving,  that I knew without a doubt that it would be life changing, and that I would tell them all about it. 

            I was right on the 1^st count, there has been a shift in me, an opening in me – one that I can only pray will stick with me as I return home – but the second claim – that I would be able to tell ALL about it – that will be harder.  Much, much harder.

            For, how can I put into words the indescribable – the way a town called Vrindavan may look like a poverty rocked town, but is actually a pulsing heart of love, compassion, and devotion – IF, as my teacher says you look with the proper focus.  How do I tell people between downward facing dogs of the chanting and dancing of women 70, 80, maybe even 90years old whirling in bliss as they chanted in temples to the beat of drums and bells?  Can I truly do justice to the smell of the roses being offered to the deities in every temple I visited, or to the radiance of a ma – Ragnauth Swami – as he told us on a star filled, moonlit night that all around us in nature are teachers, especially mother earth – who gives and gives even as we abuse her. 

          And what of the children – the ones who begged because that is the only way for them, but were ready to dance with us in full joy, whether we tossed them a rupee or not?  Is it possible to sum up the holy waters of Rahda Kund, the flocks of parrots that soared through the sky, the monkeys that are cute, but also a terror?

            I don’t think I can tell all about it, but what I can do is live what I felt, and let it eek out a little at a time – the stories, the chants, the sights, and most importantly the love that I experienced. 

Join Julie on March 30th at 2pm to hear all about her trip to India!

Julie teaches Bhakti Basic on Mondays at 6:30pm.

"It Takes Two, Baby..." by Tam Terry

     It was a Thursday morning in April, 2001.  I was at the YMCA looking for 
a way to round out my training program for a hike we were planning to 
Kilimanjaro.  There it was again-that word YOGA on the schedule.  Ok, I 
thought -I’ll check it out even though I really didn’t care for it when 
tried years earlier (granted, après ski Yoga at Snowbird probably wasn’t 
the best choice for my legs that day).  Willing to give it another go, I 
had no idea I was about to meet a teacher that has changed my life.

     Having long been defined by a demanding and rewarding (did I say 
demanding?) career as a corporate executive, there was little room to 
explore personal growth through the progressive benefits of yoga. 
Finally, I had a chance to see what all the fuss was about and with each 
passing class all I knew was- I just felt great afterward.  With the 
support of my teacher, I let myself explore poses more deeply no matter 
how peculiar some of her requests seemed at the time (lions 
breath-really?).  The more I came to the mat, the more I began to notice 
how I had expertly dismissed first signs of stress for years; agitation, 
discomfort, stiff neck or tension headaches.   The more I did yoga; it 
became the thing I wanted to do most.

     Eventually, I enrolled in the year long Bright Spirit Teacher Training 
program as a way to deepen my practice.  I really never intended to 
teach (which by now you know didn’t last!)  In time, the cumulative 
effects of the practice were undeniable-the body wisdom, my overall 
well-being, the ability to choose more thoughtfully for myself and 
others and access to a dynamic, kind community of like-minded people. 
After receiving my certification I eventually found my voice and remain 
grateful for the opportunity to share what I love most about the 
practice.

     The fact that I have an ongoing 12 year journey on the mat is a direct 
result of the experience my teacher created that first day.  She set the 
table, I stayed for dessert.  Even now, time spent with her reinforces 
the idea of learning as a dialogue between teacher and student.   I 
believe that we must both “show up” authentically to create an 
environment for sharing and exploring.  If we permit ourselves to settle 
down and remove layers of expectation, we actually get to practice being 
with levels of challenge, without judgment.   The more we practice being 
with challenges, the better we become at making choices concerning them! 
We try, we fall, we get up and a bit wiser, we try again.  Whether 
working on a breathing technique or a difficult balancing pose, we’re 
never done.  Like life, the practice is always oscillating no matter how 
strong our conviction to control it.  We can count on change. 
Consistently.   “Showing up” authentically takes true courage and it is 
then that I am whole heartedly reminded that it is in fact our students 
who remain our greatest teachers.

Tam Terry teaches "Sunday Sanctuary" on Sundays 12:15pm - 1:30pm.  Tam will also be teaching a Beginner Series that starts on March 6th at the new Urban Sanctuary.

Why I Chant... by Sarah Anfora

As I close up my harmonium, I sit here and wonder..."How did an Italian girl from Hudson County ever end up chanting Sanskrit and playing a harmonium?"

I am a singer.  Music pulses through my veins.  I am that person on the Path train who is not afraid to dance to the music that is blasting through my iPod.  

I practiced yoga for several years before I ever heard someone chant in Sanskrit.  And now when I think about that, I laugh because my asana practice has become synonymous with chanting.  I don't feel right if I get on my mat without chanting!

It wasn't until my first class at Devotion Yoga several years ago when one of my teachers played some "weird" music that I never heard before, but something in my soul was curious.  My mind started to race: "What is this noise?  Why do I feel so good?  Why do I ache to sing along?  Should I be singing these things; I'm not Hindu?"  I kept attending classes and would sing quietly in my head until I found a teacher who told us that we could sing out loud!  "Sing?...in yoga...and I'm not going to get in trouble?!  I thought we all had to stand here in silence!"

And then, I attended my first kirtan and I have been hooked ever since.  At first I had no idea what I was chanting or what the words meant.  And, frankly, I still don't know what a lot of the chants mean, but I think Krishna Das captured exactly what I want to express:

"The words of these chants are called the divine names and they come from a place that's deeper than our hearts and our thoughts, deeper than the mind. And so as we sing them they turn us towards ourselves, into ourselves. They bring us in, and as we offer ourselves into the experience, the experience changes us. These chants have no meaning other than the experience that we have by doing them. They come from the Hindu tradition, but it's not about being a Hindu, or believing anything in advance. It's just about doing it, and experiencing. Nothing to join, you just sit down and sing."

By some Divine intervention, I was blessed with the opportunity of being up at Kripalu during the weekend when it would have been Swami Kripalu's 100th birthday!  I was able to attend several kirtans where I could sing and dance my heart out.  I realized that I chant now because I have to!  It is important for me to share that with the world, and I can start on that mission by sharing it with my students.  So, the next time you are in my class, don't be shy and feel free to sing if that is what your heart needs!

Jai!!!!!

Sarah Anfora teaches Wednesday mornings at 9:30am and Sunday mornings at 10am.