featured picture by Zoe Ward @unrulyascetic

Handstand: The Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy Guide

1. Place hands on floor
2. Lift one left into the air
3. Lift the other leg up till your entire body is upside down and vertical!

Easy Peasy! You’ve done it.

 > a few pitfalls to avoid:

• If you fall forward into a backbend, you’ve gone too far!
• If you don’t get up, you haven’t gone far enough!
  

Remember to come down slowly with gravity-defying control! 

Easy Peasy!

Not included with this tutorial:

1. 8-pack (genetic abnormality)
2. Gymnastics gold medal, Beijing 2008
3. First handstand before potty training
4. Ten years daily ashtanga practice
5. Man bun (balance counterpoint)
6. Meticulously groomed facial hair (also helps with balance)
7. Natural physical propensity for handstand, perhaps due to genetic abnormalities, X-Men memberships and so on.
8. Blessings from the good fairy
9. Parents who are cirque du soleil stars and/or professional ballet dancers/Navy Seals/aliens
10. X-Men membership (something to do with the 8-pack)

Catching! AKA Bending Over Backwards to Catch Your Own Thighs: The Easy Peasy Guide!

1. From standing, drop backwards into a backbend.
2. Lift onto your fingertips.
3. Walk your fingers towards your ankles
4. Grab your ankles
5. Walk your hands up your legs to your knees and/or thighs.

Bravo! You’ve Done it! Easy Peasy!

Not included with tutorial:

1. Bat shit craziness
2. Ten years regular Ashtanga yoga/Bikram practice.
3. Obliviousness that comes from years of practice at being completely out of touch with reality for most humans
4. A genetic condition whereby the spine assumes the consistency of a well-cooked udon noodle
5. Shock therapy, weekly
6. Rhythmic gymnastics medals
7. Daily chiropractic treatments
8. A rare virus that results in the hot angry psoas muscle morphing into one long gummy worm.

 Handstand Kiss: A Short And Hot Easy Peasy Guide!

1. Be hot. Like, Gigi Hadid model hot.
2. Have a partner who is hot– say, a pop star, like Shawn Mendes.
3. Master the Easy Peasy Guide to Handstand (while being super hot)
4. Do a handstand while your hot partner does a handstand, facing each other.
5. Kiss!!

Easy Peasy! You’ve Done it. For Bonus Likes, try step 6:

1. Have Vogue photographer document while in Paris

Not included with this tutorial:

1. Hotness
2. Paris
3. Shawn Mendes
4. Knee into partner’s nuts
5. Head butts/teeth bangs/broken noses
6. EMDR sessions with therapist to address PTSD from your attempt at a handstand kiss with your significant other
7. Vogue photographer
8. Couples’ therapy for resentment/hurt/trauma stemming back to the day you and your partner attempted this tutorial
9. Gigi Hadid
10. No sex for at least two weeks following you and your partner’s attempt to make a handstand kiss post on Instagram (which, of course you did, duh! and the post got a gazillion likes and #couplegoals up the wazoo, but at home you did not speak for at least two weeks)
11. Lingerie
12. What to do if your partner’s proportions are different from yours such that if upside down your face is at his belly button not his face (see above re: knee into nuts)
13. Shawn Mendes (again, because, sigh, Shawn Mendes)

This Pose We Made Up For An Insta Challenge That Shall Not Be Named Because It’s That F*cked Up: The Easy Peasy Guide!

1. Sign this waiver!
2. Find a Glacier Near Rocks/Balcony/Cliff/Skyscraper rooftop etc.
3. Get upside down on one hand, twist your legs around, hollow your back, twist, put one ankle on the other leg or something like that– while perilously balanced in front of rocks, freezing cold waters, death defying heights, etc., and so on

Bonus: A dog kissing your foot or face

Bonus Two: A peacock, because the feathers are cool

Voila! Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy!

Not included with this tutorial:

1. Prayers to Beezelebub
2. A national park and/or glacier/cliff/rocks/skyscraper roof/toxic lakes/balcony
3. What’s wrong with you?
4. This is f*cked up
5. Absence of the fear section of brain, like Alex Honnold, or that part of the brain that says “no” to f*cked up stuff, like Alex Honnold
6. Alex Honnold’s abs
7. Dog or peacock
8. Even your dog thinks this is f*cked up
9. Lawyers
10. Vial of Starlight and other gifts from the Elf Queen ensuring that your crazy ass will be ok 
11. Years of physical therapy and EMDR after attempting this pose that shall not be named for an insta yoga challenge 
12. Really?

if you like this post, check out this one, from two years ago: http://www.jeanmarieyoga.com/yoga/blog/americas-next-top-yoga-teacher

1. Ashtanga Yoga is Not Functional Movement: No one needs to put his leg behind his head, ok? This is a skill that won’t help you run away from mountain lion. Or get a sticky lid off a jar, or text and walk across the street at the same time. Putting your legs into lotus while upside down on your forearms won’t help you run a marathon or carry 50-lb bags of dog food by your pinkies. It won’t help you perform a triple axle on ice while simultaneously increasing your stock price.

But if you love yoga and progress, the rhythm of your own movement, the feeling of being in the moment, you might just love all your body can do –like putting your leg behind your head or inhaling your arms up.  

While I’m at it, no one needs to put her toes wherever janu sirsasana B is calling for them. (No one needs to do this in Ashtanga, either, btw– if you have an open and creative teacher.)  Then again, no one needs to zip down a snowy mountain with sticks attached to his feet or climb mount Everest or run 39 marathons either.

But……

Putting my leg behind my head with Ashtanga might help me face the obstacles in my life as I have on my mat. I guess in a sense Ashtanga Yoga is functional movement for me —

because I love it.

2. Ashtanga Asks You To Do The Same Thing Everyday Which is Boring And Bad For You. Right? Well, except for this little thing.…that no day is ever the same, not to mention built in variation within the practice and, my favorite, you only repeat to repeat yourself different.

3. Teachers (and even people who do it) are a$$holes: I’m not a Mysore teacher but I practice Ashtanga — for years now — and I’m still an a$$hole. It doesn’t go away it just gets more obvious– does that mean I’m getting better?  Sometimes I don’t want to return the grocery cart once I get back to my car– but I do, even though the asshole in me says no! it’s cold! The longer I live, the more I notice assholian tendencies everywhere, in people doing everything– even yoga! I also notice there are lovely people everywhere doing everything–even ashtanga yoga! Then I notice that most people have a bit of both.

Maybe I’ve practiced with a lot of recovering fully-gone assholes, along with people with pasts that range from troubled to addicted to loss-inundated (not that those things are commensurate with assholism)–people who’ve faced the fire and come through it alive, a bit softer around those once assholian edges. People teach and people practice. Both those “peoples” are made up of individuals and each person is different. I have been hurt by people who practice ashtanga. I have been hurt by people who practice other yogas. But I have also known kindness and support from all of the above. There is no single central “yoga person” machine on Oprah churning out everyone the same like a t-shirt shooter: You get a Mat! and You get a Mat! So, you find someone kind you can trust, who speaks to you, someone with whom you can be your full –still a little bit assholian (in my case)– self with on the mat.

I need that obviously–

because I’m still a bit a$$hole. But if ashtanga teaches me anything, it’s that I won’t be one forever.

4. No feel-good yoga quotes and flowery imagery with unicorns and a side of pyscho-babble: No one is going to start a led class by telling you what’s going on in their life packaged with some quote from Osho/Tara Brach/Deepak Chopra/Oprah/Yoda/Russel Brand/Instagram Influence that is totally getting them through it– as of this morning at least– which is when the teacher first saw the quote on Instagram five minutes before teaching said class. You might miss that. Or, you might come to enjoy how by the end of your own practice you feel your own Insta-worthy quotes bubbling in you.

5. Your Toes Won’t Look Pedicure Insta-Photo Perfect.

Um, Have you seen my toes? Until recently, I kept ripping the callus open, with blood on the mat (so hard-core, man). Looking at Instayogis in short shorts on the beach (is there any other kind of yogi in your feed?) I was under the impression that doing yoga meant I’d have perfect pedicured pitter pattering piggies adorning my goddess-energy handstand on a beach in Thailand. 

Instead, the only Insta sponsor deal I’ll get is from a dermatologist or Dr. Scholls, or the maker of natural toenail ugliness treatments. How sexy is that? I could spend money for a shellac pedicure where I guess they use dynamite and kryptonite and cement on your nails and be fancy toes anyway. But I hate sitting down– unless its to put my leg behind my head.

Guess that’s another way Ashtanga is bad for you!

But– I enjoy myself this way.  I meet myself as I am rather than this idea of who I’m supposed to be (is there nay other choice, in this practice?). For me, that’s often face down splat on my mat after the third try at my final posture, toes and assholian edges be damned.

Ashtanga yoga is yoga for the un-photo-filtered central channel. I enjoy myself and I guess it shows…

in my toes?

_____

PS Podcasts this week I love:

LOVED this one:

The #1 Thing We Get Wrong About Creativity with Chase Jarvis

Cant wait to listen to this one: https://www.ashtangadispatch.com/yogapodcast-conrad-anker/

1. Dear JEAN, Hope you like this “Personalized” Form Email Sent To 6,654 Subscribers That Makes You Feel Special Because It Mentions You By Name JeanMRE

Hi, JEAN, can we talk? Om this sounds so personal right? I mean this is– wink wink– a highly personal email to you, JEAN MARIE, not some creepy mail merge algorithm walking around like a personal cutesy note just to you JEan MRIE. Nope! Not impersonal at all, though it’s obviously being sent to all 5046 of my subscribers jEAN, like you haven’t figured that out already Jean MAri, because your name is misspelled in all these form emails because you misspelled it once in my files, Jen Mari. Also, you’re no idiot, JENE, but don’t expect more from me just because I’m a yoga teacher, JeanMHacket%. Hey, how’s it goin’ JeaN? Wait, don’t answer 🙂 Wink Wink, so personal!

2. The Change of Seasons Email To My “Radiant Ones” Announcing That It’s Fall In Case You Didn’t Notice All The Pumpkin Spice Everywhere

OM Shanti, Radiant Raja Lovers! It’s the change of seasons! Time to tap in to your autumnal abundance! Yes it’s me, that teacher with the email that comes with each change of the seasons– another chance to use all my favorite words: radiant, sacred, abundance, body, mother, earth, Ganesh, Kali, DoterraTM. Dear Abundant Ones: Have I mentioned I love the fall? The cool, crisp air, snuggles and pumpkin spice? Have I used the word abundance at least TEN times in a single email? Time to FALL into the sacred abundance of Pumpkin lattes. Namaste, Abundantly

3. The Email You Get From Other Teachers That You Never Signed Up For But You Are Too Scared To Unsubscribe And Honestly They Might Just Add You Back To The List If You Do So You Are Trapped

Hi, JEAN! you’re getting this email because we teach at the same studio and I took all those teacher emails and used them for my own email list, which you’d rather not be on because if you wanted to know when I was teaching you could just look at our studio schedule because we both teach there, or google my name and see my website, or look at any of my insta posts about my teaching — but no, it’s cool for me to POACH your email so I can send you information you don’t need and never asked for simply because we teach or taught at the same yoga studio five years ago in a place you no longer live but you now feel it would be way rude to unsubscribe so here is that email you never asked for.

You could try to leave but I’ll just add you back to my list and then we’ll BOTH KNOW WHAT YOU DID, JEAN. HEARD OF KARMA, JEAN? The Yoga Sutras, hmmm? THEN STOP HOARDING YOUR INBOX, JEaN. Be positive, my radiant one– at least you’ll always know when the seasons change! Stay tuned (not that you have a choice) for my next newsletter on Asteya, or “Non-stealing.” Yours forever.

4. BIG NEWS! It’s the Email Announcing Big News– But Wait, Is This Even News?

BIG NEWS! EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT COMING! You know what BIG NEWS means when it appears in your inbox? That’s right, anything! Big news and HUGE announcements might be anything from “I added another yin class to my schedule” to “I’m moving to Mars”– though usually the more ALL CAPS and !!!!!!! exclamation points there are, the smaller the big news actually is. In truth, the biggest news is really the smallest news, but this teacher email hypes it up so you’ll get as excited about it as you do for pumpkin spice lattes. BIG NEWS! My 9:15am vinyasa class is now called 9:15am vinyasa flow. Next up, more BIG NEWS: I’m making lentil soup!

5. PLEASE REMOVE ME FROM THIS SUB LIST: The Unanswered Email Cry For Help From The Yoga Teacher Who Left Town To Go Do Volunteer Work In The Amazon.

June: Dear Yogis: Hello from the Jungle! Please remove me from your sub list, as I am no longer teaching in Cali. Love from the Amazon!

July: Hey Yoga Ladies and Gents: Please take me off this list. Namaste, Love!

Still July: Please remove me from this sub list. Thanks loves!

Still July: Please remove me. Thanks

August: Really, remove me.

September. REMOVE ME MOTHERF*CKERS

6. The 1,110,056 Emails Replying ALL To A Yoga Teacher Message About Not “Replying ALL”  

Thank you for a great meeting last night, Abundant Yogis! One suggestion, made out of abundant love. What if we hit “reply all” ONLY if you agree to a sub request so other people know the class is set. But if you can’t sub it, perhaps just email the person who made the request and not REPLY ALL. Abundance has its limits! I often feel overwhelmed with emails. Namaste, Gretchen Satya

• Gretchen, hey– I agree, this is so annoying, xo Kells
• OMG Me too– and please announce my beginners workshop!
• Dear Yogis: Kindly remove me from this email list; I am no longer subbing at this studio, thank you.
• What’s up with the construction going on?…. David
• Getch, this is a great idea– and i love your new haircut!
• can anyone sub my 9am tomorrow?
• who is down for yoga in the park on Thursday?
• any ideas for a good Reiki practitioner?
• Hey can you guys take me off this list? Melanie
• Can we get some more yin classes on the schedule?
• BIG NEWS! Here’s my newsletter about the change of seasons!!!
• REMOVE ME

7. The Non-Yoga Email You Get From A Yoga Teacher With a New Business That You Also Never Signed Up For

Hi, you’re also getting a non-yoga related email from me about my ETSY business devoted to making crochet finger puppets that look like hedgehogs. I added your email to the list because we once taught yoga together and I just know you want to be involved via email in every single thing I ever do for the rest of my life. Happy fall!

1. I do the practice when I feel good, when I feel meh and also when I feel down. When I step onto my mat with thoughts like: I’m tired! Or, I’m sore! Or, I feel lazy! I think about this nugget from Kino MacGregor. It’s about third series, but I think it applies no matter where you are:

“The key with Third Series is to do the practice when you feel good, when you feel just ok and also when you feel bad.

This Advanced practice is a daily practice and you take whatever body you have, whether it is sore, tired, tight, open or strong, into the practice and just do it without adding anything special. “

I can’t tell you how many times I have stepped on my mat thinking I’ll never make it to my final posture…. and then this quote pops into my head. Mind you, this isn’t about pushing — it’s about not letting your mind decide what you do, but instead letting your breath guide you. (I’m assuming that when Kino refers to feeling “bad” she doesn’t mean the day after surgery or during the flu or anything like that):

“It is a lesson gained not in the first years of sustaining this practice, but after five or ten years of consistent Third Series practice. Only then can the ego be burned through enough to realize that it is just your practice.“

2. If I make it halfway though, I can finish the series. An insta friend turned me on to the fact that yogi nidrasana pose is roughly the halfway mark of second series. Now when I land there I always have this feeling of…. Halfway! Then, even if I think I can only manage second series, by the time I reach it’s end, often third series seems possible again.

3. I Plan to do my practice for that day. Period. If it’s primary day, I plan on primary; if it’s second series day, I plan on second. If it’s fifteen back flips and a cha cha day, I plan on that. O.k., maybe not that.

This tip comes from noticing that sometimes I’ll wake up sore or tired and immediately think: maybe I’ll just do sun salutations today, or maybe I’ll just do half primary today, or maybe I’ll just not do anything today. The minute my mind goes there, sometimes within the first five minutes of waking up–I stop it. The plan for the day is all my postures? Then that is the plan.

Does it mean that it will happen? Not necessarily. I have days of just Sun A’s, days of primary only and days of one breath and running out the door for a vinyasa class because I need people. I’m human. I am not perfect and this practice allows all of me, not just the best of me. But most days I practice as prescribed.

There is a difference between intending to do your practice for that day, versus intending to drop it from the get go. Drop the mental maneuvering agenda; start with the assumption of doing what’s prescribed (for lack of a better word). Change it if your body and breath make it clear you must. But don’t set out before your first sun salutation to close the door on anything –before you have even taken a breath. Plan to start the practice for that day. Then let it happen however your body unfolds it, not as your mind plans to fold it in early.

So many days I think I will only make it through sun salutations and then I find myself dripping in sweat attempting a final third series arm balance.

I hope this helps, and if you are in primary or standing postures only or second, I think you can replace any mention of third series here with your own practice, and it still applies. We are all in the same place, in that we are all working on something.

Let me know if this helps you.

It’s Friday. The day after mysore practice in the room with teachers, people, no where to freaking hide. You managed to perform like a ninja…. kind of…..ish (or so you hope): you stood on your forearms, bent over backwards and such, just like you would’ve at home. But the next day, I mean the next morning, i got to say the next day….

Today. “Just” Primary day…

you wake up STIFF as fuck. like someone threw rocks at your everything/you aged fifty years/someone poured cement into your psoas.

You step onto your mat. It’s just primary, it’s just an hour and fifteen minutes, it’s just sixty…five-million chatturangas, it’s just this practice you could do in your sleep right it’s just–

OH MY GOD DID PARASITES INVADE MY HAMSTRINGS AND STAGE A COUP AND NOW THEY DON’T EVEN FEEL LIKE THEY”LL LET ME DO A BASIC SUN SALUTATION

Yes. That. That you got worked, you got uncomfortable yesterday feeling. Then the mind starts to make up stories:

maybe you should bag it

take the day off

do something else

macrame?

until you get hip to your mind’s game and….

you remember.

You were in Mysore for a month and you did this practice, primary series, every damn day. You went. Everyday. tired. sore. strong. sleepy. sore. worried. crick in your neck. belly upset. you went. you went. you went. and you saw you could do, do do. Sure– sometimes it wasn’t the most gushy practice but every damn day that practice got done.

and you came home–

Better. Even at third series.

Perhaps because you learned you could just….do.

So, my dear, this is what you came for. Friday primary, the thing that hooked you in the beginning– the breath, the challenge, the marichyasana D. Your feeling sore and stiff is just an offering to the yoga mat practice gods today. It doesn’t mean that you don’t do:

It is, after all, evidence that you do…do….

you practice. it’s temporary– the hamstring invaders, the mental hunger games. They depart to vandalize someone else’s legs and brain, the last of the evidence that you do…..

do.

you practice.

so.

get to it.

Every yoga practice should include something that wakes you up. Something that makes you fully conscious. Something that you cannot sleep walk through.  Something that makes you completely  uncomfortable.  Maybe even flat out scared. ~ Shanna small

“Finding comfort should be a struggle” ~ Peg Mulqueen

“…. the resistance to lizard brain is a compass. If it tells me that something is uncomfortable, if it tells me that something is scary then that is exactly what I’m going to do. I look for it as a clue that I’m on the right track….You know you have this built–in thing that shows you what the world is afraid of. And if you do that you’re probably going to do OK.” ~ Seth Godin

I learned something new in the mysore room today.

It wasn’t a new pose or assist, but this: If I want to progress, I’m going to have to get really uncomfortable.

This may sound odd if you follow me because I’m usually standing up with one leg behind my head, jumping around on my mat, carting my body weight around on my hands whilst my legs are folded into a pretzel, bumbling through several incredibly messy FAILS of third series posture attempts. But it’s all:

Cozy, comfy, cushy-gushy.

I got the routine the way I like it: coffee and writing exercises while my heater and humidifer bring my practice space to warmth. I get the clothes, take a two minute shower, check out new music, insta my pre-practice bed-head hair and BOOM. It’s on–

just the way I like it…

Right down to music–Lizzo if i feel like it? Extra tries here, fewer tries there or no tries over there, practice faster or slower, breath or no breath (failing as I like it), dristi or staring at toenails, whatever I like. Hold your yoga police blotter notes because I’m fairly conservative in terms of doing the practice as it has been taught to me, but as T.I. sang, at home–

“You can do whatever you like”

Hence the heeby jeebie chitta vritti anxieties when I leave home for my local mysore room: 5:45 alarm, 30-minute drive, mental gymnastics about whether my practice will look as good on that day or at that hour, self-conscious paranoid self-sabotage about whether my belly looks bloated and where is my favorite shirt and what is the point of going if I am just going to suck and what if I die on the drive and so on.

I am very uncomfortable.

It does not help that in this mysore room almost nothing is how I like it. Meaning? There are few distractions: no music. no time to stare into space or at my toes. No unctious heat, less sweat. I am on my own here, with only my breath– and this is big– my community and teacher to support me.

Ruh-roh.

I posted on Insta about the fears and insecurities sabataging some of my trips to SLC for mysore, trips I used to take at least once a week, before multiple surgeries, including a tragic surgery almost a year ago, scars on my body, a little less tightness to my abs, surgeries that took me through this same canyon. In my convalescence, both phsyical and mental, I have made my home space a bliss station.

Is it worth it to travel to this mysore room, spend money on class, leaving my cushy, warm free practice space if my mind is just going to function like a chitta vritti pinata just exploded? What kind of practice is that? What’s the point?

The chitta vritti pinata confetti begins to settle and I land karandavasana, but without crash. Progress. Practice, breath, my nearby shala friends and teacher smooth these mental tsunami waves down into a calm drift. Moving into third series I feel like I belong, most of all– to myself. I forget performance anxiety about my first arm balance. My best attempts arrive on my mat like presents, my next few arm balances better than usual. Sammy, the teacher, reminds me of dristi (oh yeah…that), answers some questions and I remember that I not only need help–

I want it. Maybe that’s uncomfortable to admit.

Is it better to stay home alone in my complacent comfortable heated space? For me, the answer revealed itself in how I felt the rest of the day: renewed, ready. creative. And my body? Worked.

I got uncomfortable in my practice today and this gave me more comfort with the uncomfortable spots. Then I remember: in Mysore, with Sharath, I was uncomfortable every single day. I never new which spot I’d be in, how long I’d be waiting for it, if I’d ever get beyond primary, who would be backbending me and what the hell is that bug it looks like a mouse with wings.

So I’ll ask: even if you practice intensely, even if you practice Ashtanga or in 110 degree hot yoga…. are you letting yourself get too comfortable?

Challenging my discomfort head-on is the real final posture, the challenge to meet myself where I am now, so I can meet myself

where I go next.

“Because we don’t get better by being better. We can’t find balance by being in balance. We NEED those voices to show up in our lives if for nothing else than as a sign we’re not stuck in hiding. To grow, we simply MUST be willing to move into places, risky and bold, and stir those beastly (and faulty) beliefs.” ~ Peg Mulqueen

The Bliss Station

Join us for our most dramatic season ever as our newest Bachelorette, Jane — your average woman with a yoga mat– searches for her very own special spiritual guide from our cast of Master guru giants. Will she find enlightenment, nirvana and heart-melting bliss?

Let’s meet our guru guys and find out!

Pattabhi Jois, aka “Old Dirty Bastard,” Age: Grandpa. P.J. is a dead yoga deity known for birthing the legit lineage known as Ashtanga Yoga. But Jane, what you may not know is that Mr. PJ aka ODB is also your quintessential dirty old man. If you like your spiritual teachers high on yogic principles about sexual integrity but loose on them with his female students– look no further this “Guruji.” Say, Jane, would you like to stand up from a big backbend to feel a big ol’ boner against your body? Fancy getting dry humped, crotch-grabbed or finger-raped while your legs are behind your head? Land this guru so you too can receive these masterful rape-y “yogic adjustments” and other sh$t that you never asked for from a downward dog, including decades of silence about PJ’s grabby hands but endless words about his loveliness? This ODB is searching for the right women to target. As he likes to say, “practice and all is coming” (hint: it’s the re-branding of “digital rape” as a yoga adjustment, Jane).

B.K.S. Iyengar, aka Mr. “Bang, Kick, Slap,” Age: Old and Scary. Another dead Yoga icon, BKS is the author of “Light on Yoga,” the owner of fantastic poses and fan of conservation. He’s famous too- There’s a B.K.S. day in San Fran and a commemorative stamp in his honor. But there’s more than meets the eye with this guru. (Psst- do you like it a little rough, Jane? We won’t tell if you like your yoga with a side of 50 shades.) Fancy being barked at, humiliated, yelled at, roughed up in adjustments whilst everyone watches the “Master” at work? Then give this man a rose. Did we mention his tiger?

Osho, aka “Wild One” (as in Netflix’s Wild Wild Country), Age: Galdalf. I heard you were a wild one, Jane– so if you’re sick of prim ascetic spirituality, this might be the dead guru for you. Mr Osho O-No-He-Didn’t is just a fun-loving free spirit you can love for his beautiful instagrammable quotes or you can get your ass in his cult for the sexcapades at his commune, that is, when he’s not busy getting high on nitrous oxide. If you’re lucky, you too might up in jail for assasination plots or bioterrorism acts committed in his honor. He also loves Valium, the color red and collecting 93 Rolls Royces. Get yourself a gun, girl and give him a rose!

Bikram- aka “Yoga’s Harvey Weinstein,” Age- 105 degrees of asshole. Some like it hot, and this contestant wants to torture you with sweat (from fear or yoga, TBD!) Likes: speedos, Bollywood, late night rapes/sexual assaults/abuse in his hotel room, verbal abuse of students (“Fatty” “Miss boobs,” “Big Ass” and so on). Dislikes: the color green (It’s forbidden in his presence– don’t even come near him with that green juice). Massages, on the other hand, are not only welcome but f*cking required, Jane—you want to be the next “Miss Boobs” or “Jane Doe. No. 2,” don’t you? Not to be outdone by the other contestants, this self-described “Most Spiritual Man You Ever met” has a Rolex (duh), a whopping 40 Bentley’s and Rolls Royces and a gaggle of sexual assault lawsuits, including a sexual harassment suit brought against him by his own lawyer. Lock your knee and catch this fugitive already, Jane!

John Friend, aka “Dumbledore Power Whore,” Age: Still Alive— is, like so many of our guru contestants, a jet setting global celebrity and inventor of his own Yoga brand, Anusara. In his spare time — when not leading a Yoga empire or preaching about “trust,” Mr. Friendly enjoys sex with students, marijuana, fire twirlers, hula hoopers, and financial misdeeds– he even moonlights as leader of an all-female (save for his manliness) Wiccan coven, the kind fond of naked meetings (naturally). This friendly dude could be the one– to spiral your inner thighs and melt your heart!

Michael Roach, aka “Monk-y Business,” Age: Also Kinda Old, is a Gelupka Buddhist Monk (who broke his monastic vows by marrying his student, a woman 20 years younger– but I bet you already figured that, Jane), a successful diamond businessman and author of books about Tibetan Buddhism, the karma of love, Yoga, and business. Mr. Roach (pun intended) fancies silent servile followers, karmic gas-lighting and black magic–you know, the usual. He’s bagged a Russian banking conglomerate client and is himself pictured on public buses in China. This man of intrigue is not only the academically decorated founder of Diamond Mountain/karmic sex cult but have you heard the story of the horrific death of one of his converts in a remote Arizona cave? Imagine, Jane– this could be you!

Wait, where are you going, Jane? We have so many more potential guru suitors to meet. We’ve not even touched on all the swamis and babas and– what about Amrit Desai from Kripalu? We even have guys from major Western religions too, Catholic priests and Southern Baptists. We could scrounge up a woman too (though, between us, Jane, no one actually takes women seriously in positions of authority, do they, or else Hillary would be President, amiright?). Wait Jane– don’t you want to get enlightened? You need someone to show you the way, Jane, no one can figure this life stuff out on her own. 

After all, it’s worth it, Jane– enlightenment seems to come with a Rolls Royce. 

“The enemy is a very good teacher”- the dalai lama 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a kick ass super motivated practice must be asking for a “this is all pointless/ i’m crippled/I’m a total loser/my down dog is ugly/I should just roll over and die in savasana” kind of day.

In fact, the minute someone asks me, “how do you stay motivated?” as I’m sitting post-practice pretty in the clouds smugly thinking I’m always motivated, the very next day I will get hit so hard with a case of the “I-can’t-move-my-arms- is-it-a -moon-day-yet” sloggity slogs.

Let me explain: the slogs are bit like the underwear gnomes from South Park. Instead of underpants, they steal motivation mojo. A case of the slogs is like a case of the Monday’s but worse, because it can hit any day of the week.

Another words for the slogs is “resistance” – from Steven Pressfield’s book, “The War of Art”, which I highly recommend! 

Today I felt unmotivated (and slogged). And yet, without pushing, I did my entire practice. I almost couldn’t believe it as I made my way into the final posture. How did I motivate?

Step 1: let your commitment motivate you. Because I am committed, I simply start and see something through. After all, sucky sun salutes are sun salutes too. I’m motivated to do a daily practice whatever it means for the day. And the worst thing isn’t a sucky practice but the feeling that I’ve run away from the thing I love.

Step 2: Start primary series and get through all the standing postures. When my prana is slow to come online, more standing postures help; motivation grows with each move on my feet. Maybe the standing poses clear slogs. Sometimes I’ll do the first seated posture or two as well. Something about primary gets me into the groove.

Step 3- Just make shapes. One day in the DC mysore room, Peg Mulqueen walked in and said, “just make shapes.” On these slog-infested days days it’s both important to keep my intensity up so I don’t completely fade, as well as to let go of idyllic visions and just make the shapes. I let it go if my transitions clunk and sputter. If I land, bind and breathe– great. If I’m not getting the highest marks from the judges in my head, f–k it! I’m just here to make shapes. And if I do that, if I show up and breathe and do that, I have done what I came to do. I have slayed the slogs with shapes. 

Step 4- Think Kino. Or rather, she marches into my subconscious on her hands. Not really– But I do recall her saying that she does her third series practice even when she doesn’t want to, even when she’s tired. Thinking of Kino I become clear: In this moment, there’s nothing wrong with me aside from the fact that I’m a little sore and sloggy. It’s nothing fatal or dangerous physically. Mentally, however, I’m dealing with resistance because I don’t feel like a perfectly primed flexible noodle. And because I don’t feel perfect, I don’t think my practice will be pretty and ninja-y and then– I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to try.

“The key with Third Series is to do the practice when you feel good, when you feel just ok and also when you feel bad. This Advanced practice is a daily practice and you take whatever body you have, whether it is sore, tired, tight, open or strong, into the practice and just do it without adding anything special. It is a lesson gained not in the first years of sustaining this practice, but after five or ten years of consistent Third Series practice. Only then can the ego be burned through enough to realize that it is just your practice. ~Kino MacGregor

Remember the Bhagavad Gita? You have the rights to your labor but not to the fruits of that labor. Don’t let the fruit you seek kill your motivation and inhibit you from taking any steps on your mat at all. 
So I start second series. Damn you kino. I mean thanks.

It’s worth saying how easy it is to fail because you don’t try; and you don’t try because you feel far from perfect. And that’s the biggest failure of all, because it isn’t a failure at all–

you never gave yourself the chance.

This practice doesn’t let you say “pass.” Well then, don’t pass on yourself. 

Step 5- Let your halfway mark pull you along. There’s a point in practice I consider the halfway mark (thanks to an Insta friend), and with second series that’s yogi nidrasana. Once I’m that far I know i can finish the series– It’s like a life preserver, that pose (only a weirdo would call a pose involving both feet behind the head comforting so call me a weirdo). Maybe you’re somewhere else in practice. Look at your total time on the mat for the pose at the halfway mark. Consider it your life raft.

Step 6: Staying with it helps you stay with it. The more I stay with it the more I stay with it. At a certain point practice turns around. It gathers steam, it slays slogs and then I’m surfing. But, and this is a big but- it might be really sucky and ugly for a good while before you get there.

I keep an open mind and I have faith — because these days often come with breakthroughs and surprises. On this sloggy day, I got somewhere new in my final pose.

And to think that feeling of wanting so much to feel what I like to feel– that prana fireworks-practice-feeling– is what almost prevented me from starting. It’s only working with the slog that I ever get there.

So being unmotivated becomes this weird reminder that itself motivates me. Or, as the Dalai Lama put it:

“The enemy is a great teacher”

“The magic happens when your yoga practice sucks” ~Shanna Small, sAshtanga Yoga Project. Can we talk now about how GOOD the seemingly bad days can be? About how, if you didn’t have those days, you wouldn’t have the all out epic days because –you wouldn’t have a daily practice. Bad days don’t exist wihtout the good ones. I stepped on my mat Thursday after ritualistic procrastination for the third damn day—scrolling, instastory-landing, space staring, navel inspections. Then began Surya Namaskar in the most “bored toddler” style possible. (The opposite of what David Garrigues coined the “tom sawyer” effect.…when someone is doing anything in their practice and you feel it in your gut thinking man I want to do THAT! even, if its the way you stand in samastitihi) Naturally, this annoying voice I wish I could flush down the toilet whispered, “Quit!” Run for a vinyasa class, do ANYTHING but this! but I stayed (see my list for how and why) with it until I surprised myself with Arrival at my last pose in third series with sweat and transitions smoothed to something akin to that pranalicious Tom Sawyer sheen. Was it my most photogenic feeling practice ? No, but then again, kinda yeah. A day that began seeming bad but became just another day in a life of regular practice. Think of it this way: The magic only happens when your practice sucks, because if you didn’t have a regular practice no practice could seemingly or actually suck like this, no mental battle could ever wage, because– You’d have already quit. You only get to the mental war because you are already on the goddamn battlefield The “best practices” (quotes because i take some issue with “good” and “bad” characterizations) exist by virtue of all the days, including and perhaps especially the days that seem to, or do indeed suck. So, without further ado, here’s what got me to it the past few days, in the moments before I began:  (1) I re-read the Ashtanga Yoga Project blog: “the magic happens when your yoga practice sucks.” If in doubt, do this! It helps me all the time, starting with the first day I googled “when your practice sucks” and found it.  (2) I think about how David Garrigues once said if you are short on time, give all your intensity. So if I’m even thinking about quitting early, I tell myself to give all I got to those few postures. And funny enough this helps me to keep going, it helps pull me out of the “bored toddler” style asana. and funny enough, this sometimes prevents me from throwing in the towel early at all. (3) Remember you can turn it around, because you have. You’re in this boat because you have a regular practice, right? By now, I’ve had enough days that looked bad —I mean really bad– that turned out just fine so I know that when I face the mat with doubt and low energy I really have no idea what could happen. So I let it happen. Call it faith based on daily evidence. (4) bad and good are words. Practice just is. “No practice is ever wasted” (5) If all else fails, I commit to a bare minimum (for me it was to pincha)  (6) I remember the investment I made before I stepped on my mat: the prep, the clothes, the shower, the coffee, the humidifier, the childcare. It seems silly to bag it now.   (7) I think about my teacher and friends in the mysore room I get to see here and there. I don’t want to let them down. Then again, it’s not about fulfilling a commitment to them. Not to dogma. Not to some guru or even a system, but to Me– to who I want to be: “What we practice is who we become next.” ~ Eddie Stern (8) Give yourself a big CONGRATULATIONS…ish. Look, you can’t have epic sweaty long kick-ass ninja days without some days that are more tired stiff and sloth-y. Uphill means a downhill has to come. It’s not bad– you feel used because that’s what you signed up for. This is your mind, your body– this is you–on daily practice. So, like those guys in silicon valley who celebrate failed projects, give yourself a cheer for feeling this way. You’ve made it. You have a practice which means sometimes things will seem to –or actually — suck. Don’t walk out now, when it’s just getting good, or as Richard Freeman famously stated: “People start heading for the door, just at the moment when they should stay.“ It hit me today how this is very much like life. I signed on to this thing, got this gift, and — it isn’t always hot air balloon rides, 10k followers and sunset dinners on the beach. It’s also loss, dog poop and spilled scoops of ice cream: “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final. Don’t let yourself lose me.” —Rainier Maria Rilke, “Go To The Limits Of Your Longing“   (9) Oh, and last but not least: I think about what I’ll eat when I’m done.

Welcome to All8Limbs Ashtanga Lovers Facebook Group! This is a forum for ashtangis seeking practice advice, medical care, laparoscopic surgery, DIY knee replacement how-to’s from 200 RYTs, psychoanalysis, astrological readings, information about what, when, where, how and if to eat, yoga sutra quote-off’s and dancing penguin memes. To join you must be able to stand up and drop back three times (or know what that means) and love ghee.

Practice-Advice-For-Third-Series-Practitioner-With-Pulverized-Arm

Hi, I’ve just been diagnosed by my astrologer as having inner child tantrums resurfacing with this New Moon, along with multiple tears in all the muscles, bones, ligaments, joints, veins, arteries and …. everything that once comprised my left arm has been pulverized into a fine dust following a diligent third series practice with bandhas/ encounter with a meteor.

My acupuncturist confirmed this in a second opinion, and I had surgery with a progressive MD, resulting in my left arm now being held together with papier mache, metal rods and duct tape. I practice on and off depending on my pain level, and only in the presence of non-magnetic materials and not too much heat– as my arm is drawn to magnets, and any heat will melt my papier mache forearms into a sludgy puddle.

Any advice to guide me on my way? I’m dropping third series and tic tocs– at least until they reattach my bicep. But leg behind the head is way easier on my left side now! And don’t worry, I’m going to ask a 200 RYT yoga teacher too. Thanks so much!!!

Seeking-Recs-For-Her-Dream-Trip-If-You-Don’t-Die-Of-Envy-First

Hello fellow All8Limbs Ashtanga yogis! I’m traveling to [INSERT-NAME-OF-AMAZING-ONCE-IN -A-LIFETIME-BEACHY-TOP-50-SPOTS-TO-SEE-BEFORE-YOU-DIE-HOW-F&CKING-JEALOUS-CAN-I-MAKE-YOU-PLACES]. Can anyone recommend a place to practice while I’m there for six whole months because my life is a dream? Namaste!

Seeking-Diagnosis-From-Yoga-People-For-Injuries-And-Serious-Conditions-Should-He-Try-Hypnosis-Or-Orange-Theory?

Can anyone help me? I’m having “issues” after eight months of practice. My big toe, spinal column, ribs, femurs, jaw, eye sockets, palate, sit bones, cerebellum and central channel all began to go haywire. I also got a rash (I’d rather not say where). Has anyone else had experience with this kind of injury? Do you think it’s all this… kapotasana? Should I (a) go back to primary (b) join Orange Theory (c) try hypnosis or Bikram (d) keep doing what I’m doing (minus kapo) or (e) all of the above?  

PS– What should I eat for lunch?

Meme-Sharing-Mat-Jumper

Hi–Here’s another meme, hashtag and emojis! It’s a bird dancing (me after I manage to bind!) It’s a surly-faced kid (me when I hit kapo!) It’s a dude with bad hair (me after practice!) It’s a cat!  Oh, wait, that’s just a picture of my cat. (But his face kind of looks like mine during navasana-ha!) #ilovememes

Yoga-Teacher-Solving-Medical-Mysteries

Yogis! I have a student who said she experienced a rash and developed an ability to speak Greek after trying kapotasana for the first time. She wasn’t touching the spot of the rash in the pose (it’s unmentionable) and has never even been to a retreat on Santorini. Do you think it’s Chronic bursitis? Ulcerative Colitis? Hayfever allergies? Appendicitis? Gluten Intolerance? Blood Clot? Altitude sickness? Restless Legs Syndrome? ADHD? Incorrect pronunciation of the closing chant? Or maybe just because… Kapo? I told her I wasn’t a doctor, but thought it would be fun to play one anyway (that reminds me: did you guys like my DIY knee replacement tutorial or what?) Thanks for your help!

Bored-Yogi-Stirring-Pot-With-[Controversial-Topic]

Hi, I’d love your thoughts on [CONTROVERSIAL TOPIC]. I know no one has much to say about this incredibly [CONTROVERSIAL TOPIC]. I imagine the thread won’t be record long, with comments reading like Op-Eds, philosophy papers and anatomy textbooks, along with side arguments between commentators or attaching blogs, books and podcasts about [CONTROVERSIAL TOPIC]. I’m going to curl up with a bowl of popcorn and watch you go to town on [CONTROVERSIAL TOPIC].

The light in me honors the light in you!

Professional-Yoga-Sutras-Scholar-Commenter

Hi, I’m here to comment with a brief essay (plus footnotes), podcast episode and/or State of the Union on the Yoga Sutras (ever heard of them?) in response to your questions about binding in marichyasana C, [CONTROVERSIAL TOPIC] and your dancing cat memes. It’s an 8-limbed practice, you know? If you don’t, I’ll remind you.

Marichyasana-D-And-Appendicitis

Hey all: I have an artificial SI joint functioning purely on positive thoughts, vegan waffles and sheer will. Also, I have active appendicitis. I’m having trouble binding in Marichyasana D and it’s been four years!!! Ugh, the struggle! Weirdly enough, the fever and belly pain seem to be helping the pose along– I’m so close I can almost taste it (and my own bile)!!! Do you guys think I should add second series backbends? Would that help the explosive pain in my abdomen?

-Gotta go curl up into the fetal position now, thanks guys!

Has-No-Idea-What Pool-She-Just-Waded-Into-Yogi

Hi dearest yogis! I’m here to ask an innocent question about something barely even ashtanga yoga-related, like trees, nut butter, or the planet Mercury. I can’t wait to read your one-word answers that reveal how I’m asking this in the WRONG forum. Or maybe it’s the right one, because you will undoubtedly all have different answers and bicker among yourselves until someone jumps in to smartypants-show-you-all-up, writing some historical answer with Bhagavad Gita and esoteric yogic quotes that shut the front damn door– and thus show my question might be ashtanga-related after all. Then someone will throw in how much they love another kind of yoga so much, like Goat yoga or Buti barre, another person will quote Rihanna and we’ll all wonder how we got here and what planet we’re on and so on and so forth.

Speaking of which, has anyone read “Where the Crawdads Sing”?

Love, light and Ahimsa!

The-Dude-Abides-Yogi-Loves-Bandhas-And-Aliens

Aloha! any thoughts about whether use of bandhas increases or decreases your chances of being abducted and probed by aliens? Man, is this practice rad or what?

Constant-In-Fiery-Pain-Yogi-Seeks-Internet-Advice

This may be a stupid question, but– My body feels on fire with pain all the time. The pain inferno is particularly bad when I head to facebook yoga groups. My problem is that just a few moments with any online forum and the pain stays with me all day and doesn’t go away, not even when I’m everywhere looking god seeing. I think it might be my brain. Is this normal? Is it from Kapo? Maybe I shouldn’t do Kapo for a while.

I look forward to reading your thoughts, even though this will cause me pain.