Coming Clean :: Adapting A Yoga Practice to Life on the Road. Or not.

Coming Clean :: Adapting A Yoga Practice to Life on the Road. Or not.

Practice, an activity that one undertakes as one imbibes air or other essential nourishment, is, for me, an intensely personal experience. Private, even; intimate. I could perhaps add: isolated. As an only child, and later, in a three and a half decade marriage where I was alone a lot, I didn’t realise how isolating the experience of Practice could be.

Solo. Alone. Breath by breath, asana by asana, sensation by sensation, conscious moment by conscious moment. On my mat, in my body. With my self.

By My Self.

Read More

Cycles, rhythms and tides

Cycles, rhythms and tides

January. A time of effulgent heat, here in Brisbane. Palpable humidity; liquid skin. A time to immerse in the drenching air, and unravel. Re-calibrate. Rest. There's often naught else to do!

We are beings in integral relationship with all things. The rhythms of seasons, the cycles of climate, large and small, the breathing bodies of land and water. 

Read More

Creative process - breathing the emBodied-Land

Creative process - breathing the emBodied-Land

He walks about four feet in front of me, weathered simian hands grabbing thin rainforest tree trunks, shaking them. He pauses, looks around, smells. I'm aware of those hands on the tree skin, not really separate from the lichen and bark, such is the communion, the Oneness of the gesture. His hands. The trees. He's listening to the Land.

Read More

Surfing and the back heel

Surfing and the back heel

'This time, stand up even quicker', he tells me. This young  golden-face teaching me to surf. He's bronze dandelion fluff on a board. Okay; stand up faster. Got it.

For the past five and a half decades, 'standing up quicker', I've lived in my feet. Finely articulate, sensate structures, reading the yoga mat, or the dance floor. Agile,  responsive. On steady, stable ground, that is.

Except. Now, said ground is moving.

Read More

Resonant Stories

A few lines from Cordoba, Spain...

She walks with the authority of centuries, carrying history in her body. Each footfall;  an echo across all time. The leader of the night tour – Luz, or Light of the Mezquita. El Alma de Cordoba – the soul of Cordoba.

The place is truly vast. Row upon row upon row of arches striped rust red and cream on columns. Such stupendous space! Additions added on layer by extensive layer as each ruler expanded this place-until 40 thousand worshipers could pray together. Imagine: forty thousand, One in spirit.

Read More

In the cave of gestation

In the cave of gestation

SPA Gmachl, Bergheim. October 2012.

I'm sitting in the “Ruhe Raum”, within a massive circle cave-chair, facing two huge arched floor to ceiling windows in the corner...overlooking the Alps a mere handspan away...and we’ve had SNOW overnight!!! I am in a postcard. My life, this moment, is a postcard. Water trickls in the background from the indoor pool - all pearlescent tiles with aqua and deep blue lights with starry LEDS overhead. The water temperature; 30 deg. The outdoor pool...meters away...steams to 8 feet high at 32 deg. I pinch myself. Yep-ouch; I'm really here. My first day brilliant sunshine, the second all mist and light rain; today snow and sun zusammen.

Read More

Cathedral of the Body

I prepare to cut. 'Anatomy', literally to cut up (the Greek 'ana' up, and 'tomy' from 'temnein', to cut). Or Latin, 'secare' (to cut) as root of dissection. I stand at the edge of knowing.....of experience. Again.

This is a revisitation for me. Familiar to my mind, to places named and learnt. Familiar to me by way of assisting autopsies briefly one summer over three decades ago at Sydney's Coroners' Court, called "green" (as in new, not faint) by the senior Pathologists, and in Histopathology labs in Sydney hospitals assisting in post surgery 'cut up'. Familiar from my postgraduate brief dissections in Functional anatomy ('did you get a wing pack or a drumstick?').  Places not ordinarily touched by light, yet illuminated in anatomy books as if this rich ecology can be circumscribed and ordered in neat drawings, from which I have taught. And it is not familiar.

Read More