Does the so-called "yogic journey" necessitate an instagram account? a hashtag? a facebook page?

As i practice into the body of my yoga, does it need to be on display to be loved, to be true, and to be worthwhile? Why do I struggle with my ego each time I see a handstand photo online?

(How can I even write this? So many people who i love finding art in their asana. Do i betray them?)

Do i betray myself if i never shine as bright as them? If I never achieve asana-greatness will I never be a yogi? Am I not trying hard enough?

What does it mean to be a yogi?

Do I need to have long legs, supple hamstrings, and colourful eco-friendly tights?

Is that one rung on the ladder to G-d's golden treehouse? 

If I become a yogic body will i come closer to a yogic mind?

I can't find G-d in that.

But then these days I don't even want to try. I just want to practice being this.

This. Being.

How can I love it more?

I ask. I feel. I navigate emotions like captain ahab. From a pile of bones sitting on a floor. The rising and falling of waves.

I am the white whale.

This isn't even a yogic journey. Because, really, "yogic" doesn't mean anything. It's just a word. It's just the way I'm expressing coming back to myself. But it's nothing really. It's so simple, it's not even good or bad. It's just becoming more right where i am. 

I think on that journey everything becomes more and more like love. Each moment is of utmost importance. In each encounter i meet a soulmate. 

The journey is so vast it includes all of life, yet so simple it becomes narrowed to one task. The practice of peace. 

Asana robs me of peace when it stirs my ego. Asana draws me into peace when it shows me the ever-changing nature of feeling, breath, circumstances. 

When I practice with the intention of peace, Asana is just another way I love myself.

you are entitled to your opinion just as I am entitled to my opinion...so why am I so offended?

Despite all of my yogic practice, deep breathing and meditation, some things still really set me off when I hear them and I would like to know why.

Specifically, I take great offence to being told (outright or by implication) that my opinion or my way of life is wrong.

I have put a lot of thought and consideration into my beliefs. I like to think am a mindful and conscious person most of the time. I practice non-judgement of myself and others every moment of every day (when I say practice, that is what I mean - it is never perfect).

I specifically try to avoid imposing my beliefs or lifestyle onto anybody. My guideline is that if someone asks me a question I will answer the question fully and directly and from my heart. I try not to volunteer information (especially in situations where I sense there are many differing viewpoints). I didn't choose these beliefs to get attention or gain some sort of moral authority. And I don't like when the phrase "healthy debate" is used to mask a self-important and ego-driven rant. I prefer to share and discuss and learn.

So I feel really choked up when I hear someone say something judgemental about something I am passionate about (often not knowing anything about the topic or even asking me why I've made my choice).

For example, veganism is a bit of a hot topic in my life (along with "alternative" medicine). People often say things like, "people weren't meant to be vegans" or "I think you should be less rigid with your beliefs" or worse, they imply somehow that I am doing harm to myself or others with my food/lifestyle/healthcare choices.

My heart does a double-backwards-somersault into my throat when people wave articles from "scientific journals" in my face as their "proof." Firstly, you can find "scientific proof" of just about anything, it all depends on who you ask. Secondly, all you are doing is regurgitating someone else's opinion instead of formulating your own and then telling me that I also should adopt that opinion.

It's not that I have anything against science. Quite the opposite. It's that I don't believe science can give us or has given us the be all and end all TRUTH.

Science is a relatively new system (from Newton's time of the 1600s) and is a great and powerful method of reason. It has explained the working of many things for us and given us incredible advances in technology.

By definition, science continues to seek the truth. It changes its mind all the time about what that truth is as it discovers new and wonderful things. Often there are conflicting opinions even between scientist researching the same thing. Scientific articles from the past are often disproved or added to. Science is a growing body of knowledge and a process for gaining more knowledge.

But to accept science or a scientific paper as TRUTH is the same as accepting the bible or some other written work as TRUTH. Truth cannot be defined. It can only be pointed towards. Science, too, can be dogmatic if we cling to it as truth.

Scientific articles can be really interesting, and they can often help us to form our opinions, along with our intuition, our gut-feeling about something. When something works for you, you know it (on a level that is more base than intellectual).

This is how we come to know ourselves - experientially, intuitively, and through curiosity.

Coming from this perspective, maybe you can see why I get frustrated when someone waves a piece of paper in my face and says "see, I'm right, you're wrong, this paper says so". 

Or, maybe you can't, because it's highly likely that I am over-reacting.

And this brings me pack to my original point. I am interested to know why I get so frustrated with people and their unsolicited opinions. I wish I could explain to them the above and then they would understand that we can all live together in harmony with our gloriously different opinions. But that will never happen.

I need to figure out a way to not give a shit what they think of my beliefs. Or better yet, I need to figure out a way to not even hear what they are saying if it is judgemental of others. Because really, when I think about it, I know that what they are saying is their own opinion, which they are entitled to. And regardless of whether or not they are judging me for my opinion, that it doesn't change its validity. I wish we could all just share with open minds and hearts.

Rather than feeling victimized I need to find a way to stand strong in myself and know myself. I need to try to not let what other people say affect me so much - it is just words after all. 

Like when I was a kid, "sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me".

...Maybe that's what I'll reply to the next snarky facebook comment...



With love always,

R

lucid dreaming [poem]

smiles in rearview mirror

fedora over beach hair

bouncing down urban road in

red pickup truck

nose ring yeah i'm cool

folk tunes stampin stereo

red light guy in next car 

looked over i swear be cool

windows rolled right down

but that was just a dream

yoga star om expert 

sweating thru anti-corporate

tank and coloured crops

smiling thru pain and 

posing each moment for Yoga Journal

hair tossed carelessly

elegant earthy top knot

waterproof mascara

breath perfection alignment perfection

but just another dream

cute blonde office girl

tucked neatly behind desk 

smiling hiding

long finger nails tick tak typing

little wink for the silver-haired 

executives patriarchs

dressed up just enough 

but not too much

so sweet so quiet so dumb

but yeah it's just a dream

book and bag on arm

a poet on the beach

wind blowing thru pages

don't look distracted girl

fedora makes a second act

not worried where sand sneaks in

looking out to vast blue ocean

believing she understands

beauty and love HAH

what's left after the dream?

life is a playground. tag, you're it!

My plan is to play through life!

Play through work. Play through "responsibilities." Play on holidays. Play through the smooth times. Play through trouble. Play through sadness. Play like a child, laughing, trying, flailing and falling, growing silent in concentration, using my mind to solve a problem and sharing. Helping others, everyone is a potential friend, and asking for help. I know I don't know everything.

I never want to strive to "work hard" again. I vow to no longer listen to those who tell me that success in life is achieved by working really really really hard (as though I must suffer difficulty and strain to be worthy of success!). I want to work soft. I want to work gentle. I want to work easy. I want to work playfully.

When something takes me in a flurry of interest, I want to get caught up in it, involved in it. I want to be passionate.

I don't plan to beat myself up for anyone or anything anymore. I don't want to fight. I like to play nice. This is my one beautiful life and I plan to love all of it.

A lofty goal. (at least you can see I'm not without ambition!)

Play is a way of interacting with the world that sees everything and everyone as inherently on my side. We are all friends in a schoolyard. We play different games and in each game we play different roles, but it's always just for fun. Nothing is so serious because this too shall pass.

Have you ever looked at your corporate job and thought, "these guys are taking this game waaaay too seriously"!? They are fighting and being rude. They talk to their mates as though the organizational structure is a real thing. They hurt themselves by getting stressed out and neglecting their health and their loved ones!

Can they not see that life is made of tiny moments of ecstasy? Can they even feel ecstasy any more?

But I don't hate the player nor the game! I say, if you can find a game you want to play, get into it! Enjoy! Sweat! Push your limits! But only for the love of it. Only if you can feel your soul delighting as it pours forth through you into the task. If you wake up at 2:30 am grasping for your phone so you can record the dream-load of ideas that was just gifted to you and email your future self at the office ("oh what did I mean by "create pyramid spreadsheet for Alberta possums" anyway?????").

Yes, do it for the love of it. Else, don't put your attention to it at all.

But my process of play doesn't just extend to the workplace. I am playing while I drive my pick-up truck (yes, that's me singing and smiling with the breeze in my face). I am at play when I hang the washing (getting immense satisfaction from using the least number of pegs on the most number of clothes), and when I cook (talking, of course, to the carrots and eggplant as I chop, "you little guys are going to join the other veggies in a yummy curry now and be loved and enjoyed by us all!").

But play isn't really about turning everything into a game. It is more a quality of being that invokes lightness, curiosity, and good humour. 

Play says, "I am open."

As in, "pass the ball, I am open!" "What do you want to do tonight? I am open!" "What do you think about this first draft? I am open!" "How can we resolve this issue together? I am open."

I am open to receive. I am open to feel. I am open to you. I am open to life in all forms that it shows up.

So waddya say? Wanna play?

Love,

R

some things never come clean

I had a dream that I was in a beautiful hotspring in a secluded mountain. There were some friends with me and we all sat on a rock ledge, our feet dangling over into a deep cavern below, up from which swirled bubbles of soupy endothermic heat. Not a watery hell. A great cooker of life. An earthly birth canal, which bathed us in subtle energizing tranquility. 

Small creatures and deep-sea fish swam around us, exploring us. A long pink fish with a wide-open mouth and blue gills came close and tasted each of our bodies. Some observed calmly in curious union with the stranger, but some were startled and splashed it away like frightened animals.

I took a large bowl and dipped it into the pool, filling it with salty life - small fish, sea plants, strange bits of organic and inorganic matter. I began to wash them, one hand in the bowl agitating lightly the suspension. I rinsed and rinsed, each time pouring out the cloudy liquid, as though washing the chickpeas before cooking them. And each time filling again the bowl with water from the hot spring. Patiently and gently I washed. Then someone said to me, "some things never come clean, Rikki."

The dream ended and I woke up in a beautiful peace.


Love,

R

the pursuit of perfection will always be a pursuit

"Nothing stops the forward march of any creative endeavor like the need to do it absolutely perfectly. And who is to judge what is 'perfect' anyway? What I have judged full of flaws so many others have called terrific. Maybe the definition of Perfection is something that actually gets done."
~ Neale Donald Walsch

I have often been paralysed by the fear of getting something wrong. 

This is the reason why I hid my creative side away for many years. I couldn't show it to the world until it was "perfect," until it was "ready." I thought, surely I have talent. I could catch glimpses of it here and there, but it wasn't good enough yet. It wasn't ready to go out into the world until I could know for sure that it would be admired by all who saw it. 

What I realised when I started putting myself out there is that, for all your anxiety and pining over perfection, other people simply don't care as much as you do about whatever it is you're doing. And this is truly a great and liberating recognition. I realised that all I can really ask of people is that they allow me a space to do what I do, to wiggle around, squirming awkwardly into my "art." Maybe some people will like it, maybe they will care, but the vast majority won't even notice. What power this is, really, what freedom!

Not only will I never be perfect, I never have to be perfect. No one expects that of me.

I also realised that I'm never going to get it done completely. There will always be something I wish I said or did better, and you know what, that is exactly the inspiration for the next piece and the next piece and the next one: trying to touch something more and more real. 

I will often be reading something from a writer that I love and I will think, "wow, this is truly great, I never could have come up with this." And it's true, I couldn't have. Those thoughts and those words are uniquely theirs. It is their precious gift to the world. 

I also have a unique and precious gift to share with the world, but more importantly, I now understand that the only way I can do that is to actually do it. Like, Neale Donald Walsch says, stop worrying about perfection and just act, create, put it out there. The consequences can't be as bad as if I stifled that creativity.

Maybe we pursue perfection or truth or beauty as an ideal goal in our creative endeavours and the actual pieces that are born into reality are just symptoms of that pursuit. This one might grasp some little kernel of what we are reaching for, and that one something else. Or maybe we missed the mark on that one, but at least now we can see it. It doesn't matter. 

Everything we create are merely offshoots of something greater that is within all of us. What we create doesn't make us great or loveable or perfect. It is our innate greatness, lovableness and perfection that makes whatever we pursue, whatever we give form to, great if we can tap into it. 

Like many failed experiments, we hone in closer to discovering something about ourselves and our lives. No more hiding. No more excuses.

Love,
R

this path is a tight-rope

I have been walking fine lines lately.

Fine lines between security and disaster, honesty and self-importance, coming clean and hiding it all away, stating my truth and giving in to re-activity, being kind and being a doormat.

Equanimity seems continuously just out of my reach. 

I seem to be forever saying things in the wrong way, losing focus, and blurring the boundaries of myself. A wobbly top spinning on its spindle, its balance of motion and weight, all centred and focused on one point - the point of action in the present moment. 

I want to be a good person but feel like I am failing miserably. And this obsession with perfection is what's holding me back from really experiencing myself. 

Despite all the work I have done on myself to clear the crud away there is always more. I think I am stable and that is exactly when something happens and I come apart again. Well, I don't really come apart. My self-image comes apart and then I have to painfully recall that that was all it ever was, an image. 

The real Me is very flawed, and perfect, and whole in its humanness. In my clearer moments I know I will never be perfect and that is perfect. 

When I really know this in my body, like an open wound, I come from a more raw place. But I have to watch myself because the sentiment can easily become an intellectual construct wherein the words are believed and repeated like a nice-sounding aphorism, but if they are not really felt in the body, they become a symbol or shadow of their real meaning. When this happens I believe that I've got it all figured out, and inevitably this is when something (disastrous) happens that shows me I am worshiping a false idol...again. My ego burns up in that moment and I begin again. 

Rumi says, 

Be melting snow
Wash yourself of yourself

Maybe it never ends - this cycle of breaking down and coming home, hardening and breaking down again. And so my path unfolds...

I suck at life sometimes. but I just keep practising. 

And I guess this is why we can never judge another's path. We all ebb and flow towards enlightenment. 

Love,
R

what is my gift?

~ Leonard Cohen

Only from the careful and ongoing deconstruction of our selves can we bring anything true, honest, and helpful to the world and our fellow humans. 

Each time I judge my personality as worthless, uninteresting, friendly, kind, spiritual, smart, special, different, inherently bad or inherently good, I must try to catch myself and remember that I am not a personality. I am not what I think I am presenting to the world. In fact, my very perception of myself as a personality is taking me out of the connection I have with my real (capital) Self.

If I then shed those already threadbare layers of words I have been identifying with, discarding them glibly like a towel tossed in a laundry pile, I can come back to focus. 

The focus is not to make myself into something. That would be a fruitless endeavour. That is, again, in the realm of personality.

The focus is a quality of being. This quality of being is known in my body already. I know it as that which feels good. That which feels right. 

As I focus, I allow that quality of being to grow within me and then allow it to flow from me/through me into what I am doing. 

Therefore the focus is to know what I already am. To ground myself there.

It doesn't matter so much what action arises out of that grounding. Implicit in the action will be my unique gift.

The gift is given through me to the world as the one and only thing of value I can offer. Quite simply, I am all I have to give.

My job in life is to toss aside artifice and give the most of mySelf that I can.

That is what those lines mean to me:

From bitter searching of the heart

we rise to play a greater part.

Love,

R

a conversation with my body

I really have been to that place where I love everybody. Lately I am there more and more often.

But today I am not there. I feel kind of out of sorts and that really bothers me because I really like to feel happy. So I go about the business of searching for the feeling so I can feel it and in feeling it let it go.

I sit quietly and ask my body what it wants. It says, "sugar." 

"OK, are you hungry?"

"No"

"Are you low on energy?"

"No"

"What are you really feeling that you are trying to sugar-coat?"

"Anxiety."

"Please tell me more."

"I feel a bit lost and I want to reassure myself. Hold myself and tell myself it's OK. I want to feel safe."

"You are safe. Remember how safe you felt yesterday?"

"Yes, I remember but today everything feels different."

"How so?"

"Today I feel frustrated at some people. I feel like they aren't respecting me the way they should. I feel like they are in a bad mood and want to take me down with them. Why can't they see the effect they are having on me?"

"The question is why are you letting yourself be affected? You know these relationships are mirrors. Darling, what is really troubling you?"

"I'm tired today and the house is a mess and everything is feeling a little out of control."

"And that is why you feel others have control over you right now."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Breathe. You are going to be OK."

"I am OK."

"Yes, you are."

...

...

...

"Now, release control entirely."

"Bless this mess."

Love,

R

"I, in humility" write this little note

This is a practice I got into, I don't even know how, during a yoga practice a while back.

It is so easy to get caught up in the chattering of the ego - the voice in my head that tries to convince me to judge myself and other people, to compete, to be perfect, to act a certain way, etc etc. 

I notice this in my yoga practice when I feel a bit wobbly in tree pose or my standing leg is burning through the longest balancing sequence known to God or man! The mind goes "come on, you could do this yesterday!" and "if you can't even do tree pose what kind of yogi are you?"

One day, out of nowhere really, I started to repeat what has become a mantra for me in my yoga practice and now in my life. I find that it quickly brings me back to my centre essentially by returning me to my sense of humour and lightness. 

This mantra goes, "I, in humility"

That's it, there is no ending to the sentence in words. It is given meaning by the action I am doing. For example, "I, in humility" *stand on one leg and look upwards*. "I, in humility" *attempt this unthinkable feat of strength in my burning leg*. 

Or, "I, in humility" *type these words*. "I, in humility" *attempt to communicate with the person I am with*.

When I invite humility into my practice with these words I am reminded that I am human, both strong and flawed. Perfect and vulnerable. Thoughtful and playful. 

I find that the result is usually first that I laugh at myself for taking myself so seriously. Then I am less hard on myself, my mind stops racing, and magically, whatever I'm doing becomes 100% easier and more enjoyable. It's like shrugging my shoulders and saying, "so what, I'm only human."

Why do I bring this up? 

Good question... I am searching for the answer...

I suppose I am bringing it up because in my own journey of personal growth, I am finding that there is a vast difference between sharing your own experience with someone and speaking from a soapbox, advising them of what they should do. I have been on both ends. I have both given and received unsolicited advice.

If I am being really truthful and honest with myself, I know only one thing about you. I know nothing about your history, your spiritual path, your desires, the other people in your life, all of the moving parts and endless dialogues you may or may not be running in your own mind. Even if you've told me, I can't know what it's like to be you.

The one and only thing that I know about you is that you are the same as me.You are a dynamic bundle of energy, growing, shifting, looking around all the time for the next experience, great or small. If I allow myself the pleasure of standing back and looking at (capital) You, what I will see is utter beauty unfolding before my eyes. I will see an incredible capacity to form opinions, make decisions, take action, be wise, exhibit qualities I didn't know you had, be unpredictable, and most of all, be human. 

To give advice from a soap box is to miss seeing that truth and beauty. 

So in my interaction with you I wish to stay in my humility, because only from there can I see the truth of the radiant being you are. 

When I apply the mantra to my interaction with you, "I, in humility" trust and know that you will find all the answers you seek; you will get where you are going; you are ok. The I who is in humility sees things as they are. 

"I, in humility" watch you dazzle the night sky with your shining light. "I, in humility" recognize the light that also shines from within me. "I, in humility" exist in this world as the only thing I know how to be ....me ...not you ...Me.

Love,
R

"I know I need my instrument but does my instrument need to be mic'd?"

It's official. I've been outed.

My friends and family now know the dirty little secret I've been keeping tucked in the darkness of my inner life for all of these years....

and I feel...afraid.

Yes folks, I like to write. I need to write. If the words don't get to the page they gradually suffocate me.

So with the start of this blog I've begun to breathe again, after many years. But there is something different this time. This time other people can...well, they can ...see...it...

Which brings me to these words from a song by Ani DiFranco:

"thinking maybe I'm just standing here

because I want to be liked

yes, I know I need my instrument

but does my instrument need to be mic'd?"

I know I need to write, but does it need to be on display for all to see?

I have struggled with this one a lot (understatement) and it really comes down to a feeling I can't quite put my finger on of ....completion? It's like the words are conceived in my brain and take form through my fingers and they need somewhere to go; they need to be born into the world.

Like exposing a wound to the air so that it can heal.

This brings me to my fear around hearing the opinions of others about my exposed wounds/newborn babies. What if the external manifestation of this is enough to change it for me on an internal level? What if I begin to write for all the wrong reasons?

This little doozy was running all over my mind during my yoga practice today. But I found, as I let the fear come through me and settle in pieces all around my mat, that when I came back to the breath, there I was. The same Me. The eternal Me. The Me that is "independent of the good opinion of others" (Wayne Dyer).

That Me doesn't change because of anything anyone says.

I might get scared, but that doesn't mean I stop. It means I recognize that fear as thoughts in my head and feelings in my body and I return as soon as I can to my inner home. If I write from my inner home I will maintain my clarity of purpose. Things will occur for the right reasons, and fulfillment, peace and joy will be in the realm of the soul as it sings its music.

Wayne Dyer also says, "don't die with your music still inside of you." So here I am, flailing and caterwauling, a baby magpie learning its tune.

Love, 
R

I'm no Buddhist Vegan Yogi Pacifist Idealist Left-wing Hipster, and I politely decline to be categorized

Yes, another rant about not conforming to labels.

But I am honestly finding a need to draw a dotted line in my life between what people are saying I am and what I actually am. So herewith my little manifesto...

What I actually am is so simple and clear, whilst not really being easy to define in words. 

I am spirit

I am raw experience

leading edge stuff

I am the listener

I am the being who seeks 

I am so large that I am actually part of you and you and you

and I am a facet of that wholeness looking at itself

I am 

just me.


Don't you feel that too when you sit quietly with yourself?

I feel very uncomfortable and anxious when defined categorically as any of the above or etc. and I think that this is because I have glimpsed my true self and I know it to be so much more than a string of labels.

So when I go to a restaurant and my companion announces proudly to the server that I am a vegan, my heart kind of reaches out its fist and strangles me before my mouth can go into any explanation of the particularities of my food choices and how they relate to what meal I might be ordering that night. 

I am NOT a vegan. If I tell you that I am a vegan, it is merely for convenience sake, lest I launch into the truths I've come to know that have led me to make this choice or that one and you, zoning out in boredom, come to conclude anyway that I am a vegan, albeit with some weird fundamentalist beliefs that nevertheless make me feel I have to defend myself in the face of that accusation.

I do eat eggs, for your information, but only when I either know the chickens, or the chickens are friends of a friend. 

I am opposed to consuming another's suffering.

I will also turn a blind eye sometimes when chocolate is involved if I think that the chocolate will nourish me more than fundamentalism will in that given moment. (sometimes fundamentalism does win, but it's really on a case to case basis.)

And I enjoy honey! I have a couple of sweaters made of wool and 2 pairs of leather shoes, purchased before I read about some of the practices involved with producing these materials (don't worry, I say a little prayer of gratitude each time I wear them...no joke). I also wear silk. It gets to the point where we are splitting hairs and I lose all interest.

The essence of what I am saying, using the example of my diet, is that in any decision I make these days, whether about food or politics or spirituality, I hold that choice up to my heart's eye, like a little pearl, and turn it around, feeling its weight, its unique texture, its particular shade. I allow my mind to weigh in with some opinions it might have and then when the knowing is there in my heart I move forward. 

I think this is another way of describing intuition.

I will, therefore, not be bound by the label 'vegan' to eat in a certain way, or to make 'difficult choices' like whether or not to eat honey, or wear wool, or all of the numerous fundamentalisms I can get shoved into if I subscribe to that category.

I will not be found making statements like, "hey guys, I'm a vegan so can we eat somewhere that serves vegan food?" I rather stick to, "let's go anywhere you enjoy because I can always find something on the menu I like!" (p.s. I LOVE food!)

I will never never never call myself a Buddhist or Christian or Yogi, because all those labels mean to me are that I couldn't be bothered figuring out the truth within so I will subscribe to someone else's truth. However, I will save a rant about religion for another day (or maybe I will give it a miss...)

I am not saying that great and profound wisdom doesn't come from Buddha or Patanjali or John Robbins (author of my favourite pro-vegan book The Food Revolution). These teachings are tools that allow us to see and know. 

We can pick up each little pearl of wisdom we find amongst the sand and hold it to the light of our soul to see if our own image is reflected back to us in the radiant opalescence there.

We can wander blithely along the beach uncovering pearls, gathering them, admiring them, leaving one behind here or there, all the while keeping our vision turned up toward the horizon. 

Love,
R