Right now I am not teaching in-person group classes or Zoom group classes. However, I am set up to offer private and semi-private classes via Zoom. If you would like to schedule this way of staying connected with yoga and me at this time, please send me an email to set this up.
A part of me has been feeling untethered lately. What day is this? What’s on my to-do list? What do I do if I don’t have a to-do list? On some days, I feel joyful and free. On other days, I feel trapped. I’ve observed that frequently the focus of my attention determines my mood and the quality of my life.
We exist in uncharted territory right now. Nobody knows what will happen in two days or two months. The truth is that we never ever know the future. Never have. Never will. So let’s focus on now since our actions and attitudes today affect the future.
Did you ever go on a scavenger hunt where you have a list of items to find? Perhaps you wandered into the woods in search of Jack-in-the-pulpit, Solomon’s seal, or wild ginseng. If you looked hard and long enough, you could usually find some of these. However, little hunting was required for dandelions so they were seldom on the list.
Back to the present moment where we’re urged, for the well being of our fellow humans, to stay home and social distance. It’s weird, isn’t it? And, I find, quite challenging to practice. Grief lays heavy on the shoulders. Anxiety appears to be free floating in the atmosphere—kind of like dandelions popping up in the yard. Simultaneously, kindness hovers nearby as neighbors assist each other in obtaining food from the store. Many teachers offer online classes on a “pay if you can” basis. Folks with sewing skills are giving away homemade masks. Goodness abounds in these times. Gratitude flourishes right beside this open-heartedness when we take a breath and recognize the generosity of others. Where is your focus?
Yes, there is much uncertainty facing the world right now. Many brilliant minds are looking for short and long-term medical and economic prescriptions to treat and recover from this pandemic. What we can say for certain is that the worldwide spread of the virus shows how interconnected we all are—and that indisputable fact suggests a Rx that is available right now: yes, love, sweet love…and compassion…to others and to ourselves. I believe to my core that how we interact with others and with ourselves during this time is affecting our fellow humans on multiple levels. For instance, I’ve noticed much kindness and generosity as folks reach out to neighbors to offer to pick up and deliver food. That feels good! A newfound courtesy is springing up in stores as we make room, physically and emotionally, for the presence of others in our shared space. Many people are out walking in parks with kids and dogs and are sending air-hugs through the ethers from the recommended 6 feet of separation. Lovely to witness!
Others are sequestered in their homes, spending lots of time on FaceTime to visit with family. The use of Zoom is on the rise as many of us improve our Spanish, practice yoga, or learn to make bread with strangers, who may become new friends. We are connected by being alive on this planet we call home and by helping one another through this extremely difficult time.
As a yoga practitioner, I watch the play of the mind and body. In one moment, I feel secure in my good health. Next, I know that I’m not immune. I notice nervous energy. I walk quickly and sit down to meditate. I’m concerned about those who live in health care facilities and the medical teams who tend to them. Simultaneously, I trust that each of us is doing the best we can to care for ourselves and each other. I have no idea of what will happen anywhere or anytime. Ever. All we have is now and now affects the future. Following the best advice for everyone now, I am not offering any group classes March 23 through April 1.
What currently captures my mental attention is the spectrum and fluidity of human desire—for stability, movement, contact, even isolation. What do you desire and what do you do when you don’t have access to your desired routines or daily habits? Do you frequently go to yoga classes or to the movies? Now that those outlets are not available, do you get cranky, whine, and bemoan your fate? Or do you unearth your sewing machine and finally say yes to that dress? Can you observe what’s happening inside of you, and without judgment, notice how those feelings translate into behavior? Can you sit still and let the energies pass through you without doing your habitual behavior? You don’t know until you try.
Around the world, yoga teachers are offering on-line classes. I encourage you to jump in on some of those. I’ll be posting yoga poses and sequences from archived One Center Yoga newsletters until I get to that place of technology know-how. Here’s a Pose of the Month featuring Ustrasana. Supportive chest-opening poses are beneficial to boost the immune system, lift our spirits, and expand our chest cavity to enable easier breathing.
I miss seeing your smiling faces and uplifted chests. I want to give each one of you a big, tight hug. For now, I’m going to stay present, protected (not fearful), and calm as I wade into the unknown future. Please know that in this very moment, which is the only moment I can be present for, I’m sending a huge air-hug to each of you and to the planet. I trust that all will be well.
If you have a few moments to spare, I urge you to watch this gorgeous YouTube video from 2016 (What the World Needs Now) when the 6-feet of separation rule did not apply. Yes, love, sweet love, is what the world needs now.
I’ve been ping ponging in my head about teaching classes this week or not teaching them. I’m going to err on the side of caution and suspend group classes at my home studio and at Wellspring Wellness for this week, March 16-20. I will let you know soon if I will hold classes the week after that.
I will continue to teach private and semi-private lessons. If you’re interested in scheduling one of those, contact me. I hope to make some meditation recordings this week. I’m not going to promise…
As a pharmacist, I recognize the danger of viral and bacterial infections. When epidemiologists, the CDC, and WHO advise people to be cautious, I comply. I suspect you’ve heard the very basic guidelines:
Wash hands for at least 20 seconds with soap and hot water.
Maintain social distance of 3 feet from anyone who is coughing or sneezing.
If you’re older than 65, stay home.
The “social distancing” part is the hard one for me; I hug people all the time. I feel like human contact is something we need more of, not less. Still, I’m going to follow the recommended precautions and give hugs with my eyes, my words, my energy, my actions. And I’ve been washing my hands frequently since I was a child. My parents were right about that!
I am concerned that people are experiencing so much panic and anxiety. Please try to stay calm. Panic never helps. Really, never! If you want factual information, visit the CDC website the WHO (World Health Organization).
So, what to do? Take a breath. Walk outside and look up. Eat well. Reach out to friends. Write a letter. Make phone calls. Practice the Immune Sequence in this PDF (which you can download and print if you like). If you aren’t familiar with the poses, contact an Iyengar teacher. I’m here! Other studios are posting on-line classes.
I will write more in the next few days. I wanted to inform you now of the schedule changes for this week.
As vacation time comes to an end, I’ve noticed how I begin to think of the future—as in, “This time next week I’ll be teaching a class.” On the heels of that thought is “How do I want to spend these last few days?” This scenario puts me in the middle of a mental ping-pong match, rather than in a place of openness to feeling the warm, moist breeze, seeing the bright, sunny sky, and hearing the roar of ocean waves landing on shore.
On either end of a trip, I find my mind bouncing between a to-do list to get ready and a list of what to do when I get there. What I’ve learned to practice (sometimes more skillfully than at other times!) is to catch hold of my bouncing mind, recognize what I need to do, and then do it in that moment. Pack my bathing suit. Done! Arrange for transportation. Check! Schedule classes. Got it! To take care of those tangible tasks is to be present. Then I can turn my full attention to being aware and present in the next moment. Thankfully, I continue to learn to stay grounded by focusing on the body on the yoga mat.
Find my feet. Keep my mind on the mat. Bring that wandering mind back to the tangible time on the mat and in life.
Part of what I’ve ping-ponged about while I’ve been in Mexico is how to revamp my teaching schedule now that I’m no longer teaching at Iyengar Yoga Asheville. In addition, you’ll see below that I’ve dropped two of the classes I previously had on the schedule and that I’ll be teaching at Wellspring Wellness Center in East Asheville. I’m thinking about adding some half-day meditation and asana retreats. I’m letting those ideas percolate without making plans. As my friend, Gene, taught me—a plan just gives you something to deviate from.
As I near the end of my delightful and relaxing vacation, I know I’m happy to return to the home and friends I love in Asheville. I know I will again enjoy teaching all of you, walking with Jack, and eating huge piles of fresh vegetables. In that future moment, I will be practice being present to being home. Now, I’m still here. We’ll see what the future brings. I’m going to let that ping-pong ball bounce off the table and see what happens.
STARTING MARCH 2: Please note the new class schedule for the Weaverville Studio and the Wellspring Wellness Center on the right!
Here at the end of January 2020, I ready myself to go to Isla Mujeres, Mexico, for the month of February. This year my husband and I will be there for 29 days. I watch my mind make list after list to get ready to go. Who will teach my classes while I’m away? Who will take care of Jack, the best dog in the world? Have I put enough money in the bank? In preparation for packing, I toss swimsuits, books, and sunscreen into the closet corner in preparation of languorous time on the beach.
The classes at my home studio in Weaverville are cancelled for February. I encourage you to take classes at IYA, or at Yoga East, or at a yoga studio of your choice. I’ll look forward to hearing about your yoga adventures when I get home.
During the month of February, my former class times at IYA will continue with teachers from that studio, except for Slow Yoga classes, two of which will be taught by Julie LaFleur, a guest Iyengar teacher from Tennessee. You will love her!
When I return to North Carolina at the end of the month, I will not return to teaching at Iyengar Yoga Asheville. I fully support what Randy and Greta are undertaking with a studio that offers only Iyengar yoga, but I have decided to expand my offerings, and will be teaching at Yoga East, where Rachel Fagan and Lindsay Majer teach their classes. I’m not quite sure what my class schedule will be. I’ll figure that out while resting my mind and body with long beach walks and yoga on the hotel roof. By the end of February, I will let you know what my schedule is at Yoga East and at my home studio.
So, how does that sound? Are you having reactions to the information? I know that I have had some feelings come up about these changes. I’m excited. I’m sad. I’m enthusiastic. Mainly, I’m open to the new possibilities that exist for all of us during this period of… well, of uncertainty about the future. The future is always unknown. Sometimes that uncertainty is easier to acknowledge.
I deeply appreciate your patience with the various changes that have shaped the where, what, and when of my classes these past couple of years. I appreciate your dedication to your practice.
While I’m in Mexico, I’ll be posting on Facebook. Class information will also be posted here as I decide on future class options.
During the month of February, here’s who will be teaching my former classes at Iyengar Yoga Asheville:
The end-of-year holiday season is upon us, whether we like it or not. I grew up in a Baptist family that celebrated Christmas. My Jewish friend, Jane, and her family observed Hanukkah. I enjoyed the lighting of the menorah when I visited her family. She came to my house to help decorate our Christmas tree. I was enamored with the bright, colorful lights on trees, bushes, rooftops, and cars. I was scared of Santa.
Those were the traditions I knew existed. Now, I’m aware of Kwanzaa, the winter solstice, St. Lucia Day, St. Nicolas Day, as well as New Year’s Day, and others. Everyone seems to want to celebrate any spark of light during these dark days of winter.
As I reflect on my family’s traditions, my first thought is that they haven’t changed much. We still go to the Moravian Lovefeast at Messiah Moravian Church in Winston-Salem, where we hold up candles at the end of the service as the church lights are dimmed. We still ride around my hometown and look at lights while singing off-key to the familiar Christmas music playing on the radio. We still read “A Visit from St. Nicolas” by Clement Clarke Moore before going to our respective beds, although our ages range from 30 to 66 years.
Yet, everything has changed. Our family size has changed due to marriages, divorces, deaths, and births. The big news is that we now we have a five-month-old baby boy in our midst. My grandnephew, Davis, was born on my birthday, July 23, to my niece, Kathryn, and her husband, Jake. I love that he is as enamored with lights as I am. Although Davis probably won’t remember his first Christmas, he is a part of the Dollar family tradition, whether he likes it or not.
Although we still gather together, the meeting location changes yearly. The Christmas Eve supper has evolved from soup and crackers to nachos and now to a sous vide meal that we have yet to taste or understand.
Looking back over what I’ve written, I realize how much the lights of the season affect me. The outdoor lights remind me of our inner light and the love it represents to me. Even on days when I feel cranky, I remember that the light is there in each of us. Sometimes it’s covered up by stress or anger. That will dissipate. The love and light shine continue to shine. I can see it when I stop and look.
Love remains constant. Love, not affection or attraction. Pure love. When all the change is said and done, what remains is the love and light of the season of life. One phrase that I’ve heard is this: We are light wrapped up in love experiencing itself through life.
May you have a bright, healthy, and joyful holiday season.