Giving Thanks for the Journey

Having just passed the milestone thirty-year anniversary of my long engagement with yoga, many reflections arise pertaining to the swift passage of time and about the many invaluable gifts that yoga has given me through several life stages, including adolescence, pregnancy, motherhood and into middle age.

As my students share their passages with me, I am humbled by the responsibility to teach this powerful process in ways that are inspirational, authentic and personally meaningful. I feel especially blessed to share the timeless tradition of yoga with students of all ages ranging from four to eighty-five years! In a recent evening class, two teenagers, a twenty-something year old, and men and women in their thirties, forties and fifties were learning together. Regardless of age, gender, life stage, profession, physical capability or intellectual prowess, Iyengar yoga is truly available to all. For those who stay the course and practise with consistency, a wide range of benefits are experienced.

My dharma or path has included the incredible opportunity to share with thousands of others for over twenty-five years something that has been so important to me. The YogaBuds for Kids program is now in its seventeenth year; to help facilitate a child’s maturation process from early childhood to adulthood is a privilege. Helping to foster meaningful connections between parent and child teaching them yoga together has been another gift in my teaching career. Guiding a teenager towards developing greater self-acceptance; supporting a woman through pregnancy; helping a very stiff man to eventually touch his toes; rejoicing in someone’s first moments balancing in headstand, or sharing the pain of loss with an elderly student… Ultimately, the gift that I have been given is sharing the gift of yoga with others while developing meaningful relationships with them.

Having just celebrated Thanksgiving, I am reminded that it is how we use our blessings, not what we say about them that is the true measure of our thanksgiving. Thus, it is through my commitment to continue to “pay it forward” to my students – from all walks and of all ages – that I will express my thanksgiving.

Best of all is it to preserve everything in a pure, still heart, and let there be for every pulse a thanksgiving, and for every breath a song. –Konrad von Gesn

Presence and Peace in Moments of Change

One of the most popular and well-known rituals during the Jewish New Year involves dipping apple slices into honey. This sweet combination is symbolic of expressing the hope for a sweet year ahead. Round challah or egg bread is also eaten to symbolize the circle of life and the cycle of a new year. As the seasons change, and years flow one into the next, we are reminded that the only constant that we can always rely on is change itself. It feels as if the transition from summer to fall is the most dramatic of the changing seasons when the temperatures and leaves drop and the light changes noticeably. The colours become more saturated, and everything prepares for sleep. One morning we awake to a new crispness in the air. In addition to environmental changes, there is also a shift in attitude and behavior. Back to school, back to the studio, new programs begin and schedules fill up. We shift gears and slide into the new normal.             Early in the classic Yoga Sutra, Patanjali defines yoga as “Control over the mind’s fluctuations comes from persevering practise and nonattachment” (1.14). The two guiding concepts, abhyasa (perservering practise) and vairagya (nonattachment) are key to yoga. Practise requires will and discipline, and nonattachment is a matter of surrender, release and letting go. Abhyasa becomes firmly established when it is cultivated without interruption and with devotion. We become grounded in the practise of always returning to practise without being bound to past patterns. Vairagya is a state of mind when desire is gone and over time, through practise, vairagya becomes possible. This September marks my thirtieth year of yoga practise. It is not possible to briefly summarize all that I have learned or what these years of consistent devotion has provided me with. My persevering practise, or abhyasa, has carried me through several life stages. Yoga buttresses my life. Studying the wisdom from this timeless tradition, we learn to focus with attention and discernment while on the mat. Taking these lessons off the mat, we practise letting go and surrendering to each change, breath-by-breath, moment-to-moment. As my mother takes my elbow for support when we walk together, our son, standing on the threshold of adulthood, at times, pushes back. Our daughter is now balancing with one foot in and one foot out as she prepares to depart for university in a few days. The other night, our youngest crawled into bed to cuddle and chat. Supporting loved ones in different ways, I try to be steadfast with devotion while remaining open to change and fully present. I experience serenity and stability and feel the fullness of the moment. As I practise complete awareness and attunement I also let go and embrace each change as it unfolds. A sense of peaceful spaciousness within is felt. Whether alone on my mat or with loved ones, I practise gratitude for my many blessings. Cherishing feelings of connectedness and abundance, I am most thankful for my yoga practise. Tradition will ensure that apples and honey welcome in the new year. And as I greet each change and hold it in awareness, I taste and savor the sweetness of the present moment. Temmi Ungerman Sears August 21, 2012

Finding the Stillness

Life doesn’t wait for nor consult with anyone. Change can occur in any moment. So practise. Be present. Learn where your center is and how to access it for when you need to go there. My sweet fifteen year old, a strong athletic intelligent beauty had a sports injury a few months ago. An emergency room doctor’s use of the wrong splint on her fracture resulted in a hospitalization and two serious infections, one life threatening. Thankfully, antibiotics and time facilitated the healing and we averted having to face anything worse than a terrible interruption in our lives and a scare. The second time in a year and a half staying in a hospital advocating for loved ones, I again had to know where to go inwardly in order to remain grounded, calm and focused while still occasionally moving at a frenetic pace. In the first situation, my parents were both hospitalized at the same time. This past February, the work was endless supporting our daughter while trying to prevent her from slipping through the cracks in the system, unsuccessfully. However, I am grateful beyond measure for the many years of yoga practise that helps to weave together the fabric of my life. From this practice and the acquired skills and lessons learned, I was again able to tap into the source of my stability when needed, and for this, I am most grateful. When life is spinning fast, and stress penetrates the skin, when change is in every moment and time just marches by, I try to move through the concentric circles that protect my heart. This is done symbolically while standing still in Tadasana (mountain pose). As I breathe, I ground through the soles of my feet, engaging muscles while quieting the mind, and I move in to access inner stillness. I am thus able to stand inside of the stillness for postures are tools to help reach deeply into yourself. I remain on my yoga mat, literally and figuratively, for as long as I need to. The yoga mat is a symbol of the practise. It is a concrete manifestation that delineates the sacred space that one goes to when practising. It is a living mandala. For standing in the centre of the mat, the path leads home to one’s own inner point of stillness. This is found inside of the heart. When change arrives, in its simplest or grandest form, what is constant remains. The consistency of the practise, the strength of the connection with the Divine, and the rhythm and mystery of the breath… this is what remains constant and what pulls you towards where you need to be. It really is simple. It is committing to remaining present and aware, awakened in each moment – breath by breath, moment to moment. Life passes. Time moves in one direction. But my yoga has taught me to stand still in the fullness of each moment. When I tune into this place, my reality has meaning. My practise has taught me to keep coming to the mat, year in and year out, to keep learning and to live my life with the understanding of what it means to be alive and to be present. My practise has taught me what yoga really is. I don’t know what curve ball will be heading in my direction next. But I do know without a doubt that there will be one. And with humility and gratitude, I will continue to step onto my mat, to pause long enough to breathe with awareness and serenity, and to remain present in the Now. I will be standing still to catch the ball.

Seated in the Light

Would you choose to buy two lovely used leather chairs if you knew that an elderly couple committed a double suicide in them? This is a question that I have asked numerous times this fall as the opportunity to purchase these chairs became available. Family, friends and students’ immediate responses have been overwhelmingly negative. I have found this to be of great interest. From these strong responses, it appears that people are completely spooked and unnerved by the idea of occupying the seat that someone has passed away in. Yoga teaches us about the impermanence of all things, and that death is just another aspect of life; however, in our western culture we do not to have an easy acceptance of death. We fear it and perceive it as dark and scary. Hence, the common resistance to even sitting in a chair that had an appointment with death. Fear of death is a major cause of human suffering. Thousands of years ago Sage Patanjali wrote in his text, the Yoga Sutra, that the basic causes of human suffering are fivefold: avidya (spiritual ignorance), asmita (egoism), raga (desire or attachment), dwesha (denial or aversion) and abhinivesha (fear of death or clinging to life). We can gain a deeper understanding of our own death and insight into that which is deathless by gaining insight into these five aspects of suffering. In Hinduism and Buddhism, death is viewed as just one minor event in a cyclic process of rebirth and transmigration. From a Yogic perspective, death is regarded as an integral part of Life and emphasizes the importance of facing death before we die in order to not be overwhelmed by extreme fear. Yoga helps us to refine our perception and encourage a process of discovering what we are as human beings on a deeper level including gaining insight into the nature of death and what is beyond. By going deeper into the nature of death we are provided with an invaluable opportunity of realizing that aspect of our Being which is deathless and we can begin to see life beyond the ego. Yoga can further give us glimpses into that aspect of ourselves which is unchanging, or undying. In our four-season climate, the seasons do change. Death, decay and dormancy within our natural environment can be observed as we transition from fall into winter. In turn, we also prepare for greater cocooning in our homes during the pending winter months. As darkness and cooler days begin to descend upon us, some people anticipate our potentially harsh conditions of winter with trepidation rather that with an attitude of receptivity and acceptance for the unknown and the inevitable changes that lie ahead. Last week, Deepavali, the festival of lights, was celebrated in India. This festival celebrates the light and abundance of life. In the west when we fear the darkness we can remember Deepavali, turn inward and rejoice in the inner light that is our true divine nature. By opening our hearts through yoga practise, and accessing spirit, we can choose to spread the light to those we care about. Through the very powerful tools of yoga, we can experience our energy, find joy in the longer days of darkness and choose to resist our reactive tendencies towards fearfulness or negativity. During these fall and winter months, why not commit to a regular yoga practise and bring to it an intention of sharing your inner luminosity with others by embracing change and finding peace and acceptance within the darkness? “The heart chakra is the seat of the soul.” -BKS Iyengar Temmi Ungerman Sears November 2, 2011

Meaningful Moments in Muskoka

In their late eighties, my parents have also continually reinforced for me the understanding that yoga truly exists off the mat as much as on it, for countless actions of compassion and kindness are frequently executed by both of my parents. Many deeds of pure generosity illuminate the essence of my father's spirit: his innate goodness. My mother's devotion to him and to her family, combined with the ease of acceptance of health issues, reflects an individual who is accepting and patient, flowing with grace, and at peace within herself and her life. Unbeknownst to them, they are constantly practising Karma Yoga.

At the start of my vacation at our cottage, my son went to rest, and my father suggested a ride on the pontoon boat. Going along with my parents on this hot July day, we travelled very slowly along the water's edge through three adjoining lakes. Cherishing the beauty of the moment - both the exquisite natural world surrounding us and the time spent together that late afternoon - I felt blessed. The lake was very quiet and calm, and we were too. Three hours later, we returned home. I was filled up with the sacred.

A few weeks ago my brother downloaded a Solitaire App on my iPad for my mother and it quickly became an ongoing source of pleasure for her. We have enjoyed watching her embrace today's most current popular technology. Teasing her about her new addiction, or sipping our glasses of Amaretto, or spending a few silent moments sitting with my father as he pensively gazes at the lake, I am given invaluable opportunities to practise remaining present which arises authentically from my deepest essence. In so doing, I feel my vibrant connection to my parents. To sit comfortably in silence, to listen with an open heart, to hear their stories and share their memories, and even their dreams -- these are golden times.

Yesterday morning my father shared with my mother, my husband and myself the dream that he recalled upon awakening. He spoke of his deceased sister, and the address "1188 Bloor Street" where she had run her poultry store with her husband. He stressed the address and was curious about the strong impression it had made on him. Intuiting it's possible meaning I suggested, "1188: you were eleven when you moved to Royce (and Dupont), and you are eighty-eight as you move your office out from there." His roots of seventy-seven years are currently being transplanted for the move that began a few weeks ago and is still underway. Possibly feeling uprooted, the address in his dream may have symbolized for him the importance of home, family, and neighborhood and of the significance of roots during the passage of a man's life.

A mysterious and exquisite experience occurred during a recent Scrabble game with my mother. On my second turn, I discovered a six-letter word hidden in the tiles that was so personal and meaningful to my mother at this time. "I have a word," I stated sheepishly and placed the tiles down. She then built on the word. We looked at each other and shook our heads in amazement. Perhaps the letters that I picked simply illuminated the closeness and connection that my mother and I share. Reminded again that all things are interrelated in beautiful ways, it is during these moments of compassion that I feel most seamlessly connected to the infinite energy of the universe.

And when this beautiful summer of 2011 stirs in my consciousness in years to come, my recollections will include remaining balanced while perched on the centre of the plateau watching my teenagers emerge into adulthood as my parents move through their senior years. Standing in Tadasana at fifty, I align myself and stand rooted in the unshakeable steadiness, grandeur, and peace of the mountain. I try to remember to breathe slowly, to love fully, and to remain receptive to the radiance of each moment. With this intention, I embrace yoga's tenets and experience the contentment and steadiness that it teaches me. As I unfold my yoga mat to practise in the same spot at the edge of the dock that I have practised in for three decades, I embody the light, and the learning continues.

"Yoga is a light which, once lit, will never dim. The better your practise, the brighter the flame is." - BKS Iyengar

The Value of Teaching Yoga to Children in our Western Culture

Having taught yoga to children for over fourteen years, I wish to share my perspective on the cultural differences that I have observed between students in India and Canada, as well as highlight some of the changes that I have witnessed over time. Just prior to launching the YogaBuds for Kids program in 1997, I began my mentorship with Geetaji in Pune, and have been most fortunate to have her guidance and blessing.

One of the earliest surprising discoveries was that the most frequently requested and favored pose was, and continues to be Savasana! Geetaji felt strongly that Savasana goes against children's nature, but ultimately I followed the children's guidance. Perhaps our over-programmed Canadian children's desire for Savasana indicates a need to learn relaxation skills, and this may reflect a cultural difference. At RIMYI, children's classes are taught in a very fast-paced, dynamic fashion. Though our children enjoy this, I have found that they respond equally well to a focused and slower class. Another difference is in the student-teacher relationship. In India, students demonstrate reverence towards their teacher, whereas on occasion, I have had to address a child's lack of respect and their attitude of entitlement.

Children are an absolute delight to teach albeit being a very challenging population to work with. Their infectious joy, love of movement and body, and their unlimited potential for change and growth result in wonderful experiences for all. The double blessings of being able to share yoga with these young students combined with being an intrinsic part of their maturation process is a true gift of teaching yoga to children. I am extremely gratified to have taught several children who have transitioned through the Children's' and Teen classes and have then become regular members of my adult classes!

The detrimental impact of technology on these young bodies has been evidenced in my students. Since initiating kids and teen classes, there has sadly been an increase of complaints of headaches, back and neck pain, from children as young as five years of age. I have observed tighter hamstrings, and less flexibility in general, and an increase in symptoms of generalized anxiety and psychosomatic issues. It is likely that the decrease of activity/mobility and the increase in hand-held devices (teens toting their Blackberries into class) have contributed to the worsened posture in young people. Thankfully, the yoga process addresses these concerns and many improvements are made over time.

It is my fervent hope that more children not only find their way to class but develop a lifelong commitment to yoga. It is only over time that the invaluable life skills, self-awareness, self-acceptance and self-management, improved posture and other transformational effects can be truly learned.

Note: to watch a recent Global TV news spotlight on Temmi's YogaBuds class, go to http://www.globaltoronto.com/video/index.html?releasePID=U7hHU7HpOUISPfHJYFKlfk_BPvTv4jBb

The Value of Yoga for Kids

Sharing yoga with my growing family simultaneously developed as teaching yoga became a greater part of my professional life. In 1992, I ended my full-time work as a registered art psychotherapist/family therapist, and established a home-based yoga studio. This enabled me to schedule classes around my children’s schedules and to be home with them full-time throughout their formative years. While I practiced my yoga, my babies and toddlers would play yoga with me, copying me as well as creating their own poses.

We began to regularly practice yoga together. In 1997, I developed and implemented the children’s yoga program in Toronto called YogaBuds™ for Kids. My children continue to practice yoga by themselves or with me and participate in the children’s classes and workshops. They are literally growing up with yoga as a natural and integrated part of their lives.

With today’s frightening reality of childhood obesity combined with an increase in sedentary activities such as computer and videos, as well as the increase in children’s eating disorders, introducing yoga to children at an early age is a wonderful way to help them to exercise, to develop body awareness and a positive self-image. Oftentimes at the dinner table, my children will assess each family member’s posture while ensuring that their own is correct. We all laughingly sit up just a little bit straighter! Children are naturally drawn to the fluid movements in yoga because it is fun, easily accessible, and natural to them as they are always in motion.

When doing yoga, one can’t help but improve with practice. As a result, children feel good about themselves because they derive an immediate sense of accomplishment, and their self-esteem is enhanced. As children become successful at the more advanced poses, their self-confidence increases and their motivation to learn more poses never wanes. Today’s children are faced with so many stressors, and in their fast paced world, they too need to learn how to slow down. Yoga teaches them the invaluable life skills of relaxation and centering. As much as the children are intrigued with yoga, I am intrigued that their favorite pose is the final relaxation pose called “savasana” or corpse pose.