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Shaken, Not Deterred

April 22, 2017 By Ali Valdez

Grrrrrr…

The Anglicized Yoga world has got its hate on. It’s been hard seeing the slow devolution of social commentaries both catty and snide about the state of affairs in popularized yoga forms. Everyone seems to rebuking everyone else or still cocooning their jivas in the glistening gossamer seams of love and light.

Can’t we all just get along?

Furthermore, it is impossible to not speculate as the Washington Post reported last week, that perhaps the sleek urban appeal of yoga is starting to jump the shark, becoming the Norma Desmond of fitness chic.

Is yoga deluding itself when it’s heading down the staircase for its final close up?

Karen Heller’s Style piece states that between weed yoga (perfectly legal in the state of Washington, the “other” Washington), naked yoga, yoga with goats, dogs, etc. is now part of the social mores menagerie boarding at the house where spirituality and exercise now uncomfortably reside.

Twenty plus years ago, yoga was weird. Now, I cannot think of a single human being within a ten mile radius of my home not knowing a down dog.

Weed yoga, namastizzle.Yoga has gone and empowered millions to improve their lives; it has also become a big fate slice of pie Americana-style. No Barre studio or Zumba class can tout the sheer innovation around positioning of limbs like yoga can, and with each class contributing to a piece of the $17 billion industry that is straight-up “Namastizzle,” the article cites academic research that shows us, even validates the open “malleability” of the practice.

But how open do we in the extended yoga family really want to be?

Sadly, not much. Apparently not all of us want to share our toys. How can we be when there is so much to complain about? Here are a few issues around yoga making the social and newsfeed rounds:

Another hot topic around yoga is the incompetency of Yoga Alliance and its questionable overseeing of some vague notion of “accreditation” whereby if your check clears and you have been certified for at least six months from another program, you are qualified to teach others. That is coupled with the economic reality that most yoga studio with escalating urban rents can almost barely get by without a funnel of teacher trainings and constant merry go round of teacher workshops.

Oh, but why finish there, when we can rip a new asshole into all the glistening filteratis of Instagram.

And if you are a slender, white woman, well forget about it. In some yoga circles it is offensive that white women (and men- although we know their numbers are few) colonize yoga, a practice uniquely reserved for people of India apparently. I am Mexican and Lebanese and other stuff not Indian so not sure where that leaves me.

Here we see the veil of illusion, Maya, rearing its head. But none of those things are what the truth of yoga is in the studio, with a loving, caring and skilled teacher and their students. The clamoring outside noise becomes radio silence. Yoga still means something beautiful to millions of people and isn’t merely a trifle or en vogue ribaldry.


Grrrrr…

Svadyaya.But I haven’t always been open either. I have fallen into these types of limited thinking; it’s impossible not to take the bait and engage with rubes, Centrists and elites alike.

Many people are pursuing a deeper dive into yoga and Eastern Philosophy academically so they know it all. For the intellectually reluctant and morally-fluid, it’s all good and people are free to be themselves.

I’m the lonely island wedged awkwardly in the divide.

Let’s face it, many people still want to just get their sweat on. Others see yoga as a great place to socialize, feel good in their bodies and feel welcomed and loved in a community. At the end of the day does any of that really effect anything about my practice?

It doesn’t affect anything except when I allow these rants and riffs to begin to shake me up and rattle my cage.

It would be disingenuous for me to say that I am thrilled with the direction yoga is taking. But nonetheless I welcome the discourse as well as the debate. This is a captivating topic and the objective of my lifetime- yoga-yoga as one of my beloved teachers calls it. Some days I am troubled and ask myself why bother? On most days, I am up for the fight. Today was one of those days.

What I have realized is the fight is only ever within, and although at times it’s natural to feel shaken, the true yogi is laser-focused like the Jedi is and is seldom if ever deterred.

ResilienceThere are some days where I read commentaries and there is a gnawing in my gut or a pang in my heart. This isn’t the spirit of the practice. But none of us are thousands of years old within this one lifetime to really have a say in it. So when I say the spirit of the practice, I can only explain it through my interpretation of what that is. All I can do is the work, as I understand it to be. That type of sadhana is never a gimmick, nor does it pander to the masses. Either way, the resilience to stay the course is the Vajra, the diamond cultivated within.

And if you know me and my teachings, where there were once coals, by lunch will be diamonds.

No, my yoga hasn’t jumped the shark. It is more rewarding than ever, and try as I may, I could never quit teaching. My yoga won’t ever make it to the Style page of the Washington Post, but it’s forever etched on the book of my spirit.

In that way, yoga has taught me that we are one; just not page one.

What I do know is that I am passionate about the science of yoga. It moves me like a gentle breeze reminding me that spring is here. It would be impossible to reflect back on my naïve early start in yoga without expressing gratitude for my teaching and how it’s grown from the roots where it began. In that I can see how I have changed.

So why has it been so hard for me (and others) to allow other aspects of the practice to change too?

Insights and yoga cultureChange never feels natural although it is the most natural thing around us. It’s hard when you are locked on the way something should be and boldly like a stiff and angry tide, comes crashing down. Resilience allows you to acclimate to these changes without letting them wash you out to sea…

…or roll up and list your used mat on Craig’s List.

In the evolution of the science of yoga there are currents and many types of waves to catch. I just want people to be happy and healthy, and be less concerned with the ways in which they find that, even if it doesn’t match my experience. Our industry isn’t what it used to be twenty years ago, but finally, I am adapting and finding my sea legs. With each breath I steadily regain my balance and find that I remain resolved and resilient enough to weather the storm.

 

Filed Under: Gadabout, Health and Wellness, Lifestyle, Philosophy Tagged With: Ali valdez, change resilience, colonziation of yoga, culture, India, Indian culture, insights, misappropriation, resilience, sattva yoga, Sattva Yoga Online, self awareness, svadyaya, weed yoga, yoga, yoga community, yoga culture

Labyrinthian

April 19, 2017 By Ali Valdez

by guest writer, Ekta Mittal

From the time I learned about labyrinths I have been fascinated by them. My dream was to visit the Chartres Cathedral in France so I could walk their labyrinth. It was on my bucket list, a dreamed up magical place that will take care of all my problems, allow me to surrender, and silence my internal yearning for stillness.

So I did what any sensible person in the modern world of instant gratification does, I bought a smaller wooden replica of the labyrinth that I can trace with my finger. The instructions on the back of my hand-crafted labyrinth said “The labyrinth is viewed as a metaphor for life’s journey. It offers lessons as we walk the path. Walking the labyrinth can assist in addressing challenges, meditation, prayer and finding peace and serenity. It is not a maze; there is only one way in and one way out.”

After few times of using my labyrinth, I realized my thoughts, my beliefs, the numerous stories in my journals, have not really changed. In my internal world I go round and round in my thoughts, I cling onto my long held beliefs, I am stubborn and rigid in my righteousness. At the center of the labyrinth, I found the stillness I yearned for, for me it lies in detachment from constant obsession to define myself. On my return journey from the center, I set an intention to dissolve these thought patterns that cling on to me like weeds. We don’t use Roundup on weeds, we carefully sow the seeds that we want to nourish and nurture.

While it would be lovely to visit France, I don’t need to physically go anywhere to self-reflect. My growth lies in coming to the center of the labyrinth and carefully observing my thought patterns. In the center is my soul, connection of Atman to Brahman. There is a Native American belief “when you release a pattern, you release it for seven generations before you and seven generations after you.” After I became a mother I felt an immediate burden of generational unresolved issues that would now haunt my daughter. Slowly after a lot of self-work that burden has transformed to love. I am grateful that the seven generations before me and after me have chosen me. With love I am now dissolving these patterns. With love these will get transferred to my daughter. It is my hope that as I follow my path to the center, so will she when the time is right for her.

In the book Kriya Yoga Upanishad, Goswami Kriyananda says “To prefer external pilgrimages to the internal, esoteric pilgrimage-places, is to prefer pottery fragments to jewels.”

All these texts can be interpreted in many ways. External pilgrimages can help in bringing awareness to internal vibrations and energy that are conducive to self-reflection. However one can’t be internally focused only when one is on an external pilgrimage, one has to make self-reflection part of daily life. When we are hit by grief, challenged by poverty, drowned in despair, helpless by external circumstances, the only way forward is to align ourselves with the light within. Whatever journey we take to walk the labyrinth, and whatever labyrinth pattern we choose, we all arrive at the center. At the center, there is no duality, only acceptance.

I have a choice to make – I can dream of Chartres Cathedral or make a labyrinth in my neighborhood and walk it with my neighbors. When we allow ourselves the joy of witnessing our life, we create openness to witness lives of other people. I have often wondered if no one knows I died, then did I even exist. We exist when we become an active witness to our life. We can’t expect others to understand us and know us, until we see ourselves.

Chartres Cathedral labyrinth was my external pilgrimage, what is your external pilgrimage? What problems is that external pilgrimage going to solve for you? And then the hard part – are you willing to prepone that internal journey to now! Like, right now!!

Thank you for being a witness to my story, I hope you find courage to allow yourself and others to witness yours! My next obsession is to visit the beautiful libraries in the world, and I don’t know where that is leading me to…

Namaste,
Ekta 

Ekta is a creativity coach and a yoga teacher. Her passion lies in igniting the spark of creation, child-like curiosity, and compassionate courage to transform life experiences into artistic expressions. What we don’t transform, we transmit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Filed Under: Gadabout, Philosophy Tagged With: Atman, Chartres Cathedral, labyrinth, meditation, pilgrimage, reflection, self

Farewell, My Lover

April 12, 2017 By Ali Valdez

By Ali Valdez

Mala beads and a fortune.October mid-month, obligatory mala shopping led me to a small jewel shop off the beaten path, a dusty back road in Rajasthan. The interpreter-chauffeur-tea baron-spice czar tried to explain to the young men behind the glass display cases exuberantly turning on the overhead lights and cranking on the humming AC that we weren’t in the market for fine jewels. Obvious American indicators, we were yoga students merely on the hunt for mala beads which apparently isn’t such an easy feat on a casual shopping jaunt. In denial, they zealously pulled out display cases, heavily encouraging my students to sample bangles and earrings.

One thing that you learn when hosting a retreat in an exotic locale is that you must allot ample time for shopping as this truly matters to even the most spiritually footed yogini. Our malas momentarily forgotten, people obliged and eagerly feasted on the artisanal fruits of the local laborers. Once the feeding frenzy whipped up to a fever pitch, the door from the back office made a sound.

Opening the door, the owner made his way out to observe the melee; although everyone else was buying as I sat playing games on my phone, he honed in directly on me taking a seat eye to eye on the opposite side of the counter with a laser intensity.

“Only looking for mala beads” he looks deeply into my eyes. On the offensive, I fire back “yes, we are not going to be buying jewelry today. Only malas if you can help us.”

His resolve unshaken, the stare down continues.

“You know that I am an astral traveler and Vedic master.”

By the way, he said that, not me.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s his standard opening line and perhaps that I need to start rethinking mine.

“I have a message that I would like to share with you. Come back into my office.” Always one to embrace provocation, I took his lead and went into his office while the others continued to try things on, none of them transacting.

Historically, I don’t do well when a man gets psychically aggressive with me, so I was ready to play ball. Once we got back into his office, the door was quietly closed behind me. I wish I remembered his name for this post to humanize him more. Although he was pushy and annoying, he was spot on for many things, taking me to tears with the intimacy he extracted from my aching heart. Those things I won’t share here in this blog; they belong to another chapter, in a book just partially written. We had a connection, I had taken the bait to engage and gained great insights. There are no accidents.

Then he blew my mind with a telling revelation,

Bread, glorious gluten.“It is imperative that you quit consuming foods with gluten.”

Never were any of his words more probing and direct than this message relayed from a-high. Now, I suspect you might be laughing. It would be funny as shit, right, except if I had not already received cloying guidance of a similar message.

I have recoiled in the past at the prospect of being “that guy” who can’t handle his grains.

Recently a dear friend’s young son got diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. During her journey, I was blessed with a lot of wisdom this courageous Mama Bear was sharing along the way. Almost every meditation, every indicator of symbols seen but unspoken in nature were imploring me to revisit some of my dietary choices: going gluten-free practically a scream.

Fast forward five months, and I have made the break. It actually wasn’t that hard. I had spent the earlier part of the year hosting my annual 40 Day Challenge and had broken the shackles off coffee and a radical reduction in sugar consumption. There was a newfound confidence that I could learn to uncover the deeper meanings and motivations for being uncontrollably lured to certain types of foods.

Most of them went well beyond a benign ‘nom-nom’ factor.

Frankly, I felt like shit after I ate bread, naan, pita, pizza, pasta and sandwiches. Living a life on the go, how many times have I unconsciously grabbed for anything that was housed between two buns?

However, I also felt comforted, my brain fed and my emotional landscape sated. So many of my favorite memories from my family life whirled around gluten-based foods, like a spaghetti being swirled around a silver fork.

My first week was easy. I was motivated by the will to live a higher quality of life. This required getting my body into a bigger and better peak state and the ability to maintain that standard for longer periods of time. Then I became aware of the desire to want to have greater energy for my daughter.

By day ten, the allure of a fresh baked pretzel stopped me dead in my tracks. It’s as if my hormones had reset and now the cravings set in. Having gained insights and now understanding motivations, I steered clear and have managed two weeks thus far in highly tempting environments and without the desire to well “break bread.”

The dark eyed man popped back into my mind, reinforcing what I already knew in my mind but that my taste buds weren’t ready to acquiesce.

The baseline of my jaw and face began breaking out with welts; my body broke out into hives. Did I mention the awkward itching that dominated most of last week? Twice I was stopped dead with exhaustion like a massive sugar drop by 3:00pm. My legs felt heavy like lead the last three days, making my usual exercise routine perfunctory at best. It was hard for me to imagine that there may be withdrawal from this and maybe it’s psychosomatic but nonetheless, week one was a breeze and last week sucked.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has always been there for you; providing a level of grounding and comfort when you didn’t know that it did. Honestly, I cannot say that I even see any benefits other than some phantom ab contours that I forgot existed after every gluten-heavy meal when my stomach ballooned out. The verdict is out but the guidance has been heeded and this new program I am willing to follow.

The great insight is the awakening. There are moments where we can once again reclaim the absenteeism from our thought process and rationale. Imagine always wanting something, even if it’s something so small like making a decision for yourself on what you put inside your body and not being able to do it. Then it all comes together and in a snap, volition and conviction get you over the finish line.

Glutinous pretzels.In the not so immortal words of James Blunt, “Goodbye, my lover. Goodbye, my friend.”

There may be moments in the future when I forget, failing to realize something I once loved is no longer what enamors me now. Maybe then my Indian friend can put his skills to good use, when in my darkest hour he can astral travel over my way and remind me to buy the Udi’s and leave the pretzel rolls to someone else.

Filed Under: Gadabout, Health and Wellness Tagged With: 40 Day Challenge, diet, eating, food, gluten, Health, India, Rajasthan, vedic, wellness

Space Age Bedfellows

March 8, 2017 By Ali Valdez

Pluto & Moon: Drawing Towards & Drifting Apart

by Ali Valdez

Snow days and hail storms aside, spring is soon upon us. March 20th is a very special date as it marks the vernal equinox (the start of spring) and signifies the end of the brooding water sign Pisces and the zodiac year. Sigh. So what? It’s time to bang some gongs and receive the benefits of being clear on your intentions during this time of rebirth and regeneration. This means we need to make some space to clear out the old patterns, losing gestalts and habits that no longer serve our higher purpose. I am looking forward to collaborating with Wayne Manto of Beneficial Sound to bring a healing workshop to Sattva Yoga (registration link at the end of the article).

Join us for an evening of Moon and Pluto Gong baths and candlelight Yin Saturday, March 18th.

The majority of humanity is heavily focused personality, clinging to one’s biological karma and emotional patterning. Most of these influences come deeply ingrained by our social conditioning and familial conditioning. We simply are not of our own minds.

It reminds me of this funny quote from Ram Dass: “think you’re enlightened? Spend a weekend with your family.”

Yoga lends itself to help aide us on our journey. Whether it is asana, or pranayama, mantra or gongs, the yogis pretty much thought of everything.  During this workshop, we will be using the valued tools of static stretching and pranayama in slow moving, long held postures to simulate the slow and leisurely transit of Pluto and the cooling feminine aspects of the practice to simulate the energies from the Moon.

In Vedic astrology each of the planets, called grahas, have an inexorable influence over different aspects of our lives. Although they do not dictate, they have a pull that helps us to think beyond ourselves and grow. The closest graha is the Moon; the farthest is Pluto. They help us to travel to move through those facets of our lives that hold sway over our choices: those things both seen and known (ala the Moon) and cast out far, obscured like Pluto. Astrology is the science linking us to our astral bodies if you believe they exist.

If that’s a bit too woo woo for you, please consider this the first form of Machine Learning with Predictive Analytics that we had as a civilization.

Here is a bit more about what these two grahas and Vedic astrology can show us.

There’s something in the way she moves.

Moon is a feminine aspect, gentle and nurturing, working through the emotional body. Its magnetism can keep us bound to the past, tethered to our attachments. It can binds us from growing like when things get rough we may want to be back in our mother’s nurturing arms for safety and protection instead of facing challenges head on. Since the moon works in shadow, it can often obscure, perhaps protect, over protect. With Moon, we hold tight and sometimes refuse to release. We feel safety in the comforts of the familiar and that which we have always known to be.

Pluto is extremely important to those of us undergoing the process of letting go of our ego-defined, lower self and reaching towards our soul identity. Birthing is tough work but necessary to strip away all that we know of attachments, desire and conditioning. Somewhere therein lies a newer you. Pluto is the agent of death, representing a breaking down selfishness and separateness of the lesser ego/personality. It is an intense but purifying energy which enables us to commune more deeply with our soul and greater divine essence. With Pluto we release and let go, if we are ready to do so.

The two forces together greatly enable the spirit of Ha Tha and Yin Yang that we explore through the physical and energetic practice of yoga.

This is evolution in action. Please join us. Register here.

Filed Under: General, Health and Wellness, Lifestyle, Philosophy Tagged With: Ali valdez, astrology, beneficial sound, gong therapy, healing, jyotish, moon, moon gong, pluto, pluto gong, sattva yoga, Spirituality, transformation, vedic astrology, wayne marto, Yin Yoga, yoga

Food, Glorious Food

February 28, 2017 By Ali Valdez

It’s No Song & Dance

By Ali Valdez

healthy eatingCurrently, my young daughter is feverishly rehearsing for her upcoming play, Oliver! Yes, the one with the impoverished little Brit boldly asking for “more porridge.”

Oliver is in the work house, scared and alone, without family or means. But all the kids get in dining hall queue is “gruel”.

But our views on food are not always what they should be, especially when aspects of our lives seem incomplete. Emotionally, so many of us have an inner Oliver. We are simply waiting in line anticipating someone else to fulfill our soul’s longings and desires. What we sometimes get when those needs remain unmet feels like the hard clank of a spoon against a tin plate: cold and unsatisfying.

Oliver and the boys yearn for custards, sausages, and mustards. I see these not just as indulgent foods swimming about the grumbling tummies and imaginations of hungry boys, but also a metaphoric dearth of those who possess a hunger to be loved and secure. Food becomes our absentee lover, the merits of our unappreciated outputs.

Our outward pursuits can never truly satisfy our deepest interior needs. We seldom want to do the hard work, reluctant to rend the heart and take the journey.

Having just recently concluded this year’s forty day challenge, I have a few first time revelations about eating and my relationship to food. Although I have countless hours of study in Ayurveda, diet and nutrition studies, I still cannot get a grip on why I approach food the way I do. In each session, I do well during the forty days, being faithful to my system and I see benefits around how I eat. But the challenge is about many things, and food is my weak link in it all. But I do it; however…

Admittedly, it is an intellectual exercise.

Day forty one,  I am driving back to Starbucks for a latte. Day forty two, I am back eating out with friends. Determined, I wanted to do better, authentically and holistically transform. This year and with grace and the inspiration of the women in the group with me, I feel like I have come a few steps closer.

Here is what I learned and may it help and inspire you.

Food for me wears many hats. It has become my ally when I am stressed out, my companion when I am bored, my collaborator and partner in crime when I am working like a dog on mental overdrive. Food spoils me when I feel neglected, even self-neglected due to a mountain of responsibilities. I never thought eating would be my “problem” because I am not an emotional eater and can rationalize everything. I think that is where I went wrong in my personal approach to diet and eating.

What I realized is food should serve needs,yes. Just different needs, serve in a higher order. 

Maybe this is why my program doesn’t always sustain well for me on the diet side as well as the other six dimensions of the challenge which now run like clockwork.

I am not good at peering into my life via an emotional lens. Of course, I am not an emotional eater because I don’t operate well from the emotional body. This recently changed and so have my eating habits.

Although I don’t tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, I do have feelings and they override my rational side much more often than I give them credit.

As a Taurus, I will never be one to say food is fuel. That sounds super depressing. But food doesn’t need to wear the hats that I have assigned it. It should satisfy one though: it should bring me peace.

  1. Food brings me peace when I prepare it myself in my kitchen, prepared by my own hands. I know how to cook and enjoy doing it. For years when I lived in Santa Barbara, I walked to the Farmers Market on Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings and stocked up. If I didn’t grow it or prepare it at home, it didn’t make its way onto my plate. I glowed. I also had zero cellulite. Friends loved coming over, often times with food in hand in its raw form, begging for the gift of culinary cultivation.
  2. Food brings me peace when I am caring for myself.  From Santa Barbara, I chased the high tech dream up north to Seattle and soon the global traveling lifestyle of a high-tech executive rewired my brain. Let’s roll call the excuses because that is what they are: I need to work; I need to think; I am too busy to enjoy connecting to my food; I need to entertain clients. In short, someone else needs to cook for me and I am spoiled for choice, so I will pick what I want when I want it. Anyone who has walked this road knows this is not a sustainable lifestyle and the health implications need no restatement.
  3. Food brings me peace when it is a focused activity. Restaurants these days are wall to wall with televisions. When not looking up, people are looking down compulsively on their phones. What people are not doing well anymore is looking forward, eye to eye. I am seeing the wireless world taking hold of my focus. With this comes distraction and a lack of mindfulness of what I am ordering. 
  4. Food brings me peace when I feel great after eating it. Nothing feels better than feeling nourished and vibrant after eating high quality, healthy food. I feel like I can tackle the world and have the stamina and endurance I need.

Going forward, I am moving away from making food my entertainment, my comforter when times are tough, an enabler to my poor work habits, and my indulger when I feel like I am entitled to something. This is the first time that I have gone the entire forty day challenge, as an example, without any coffee. Typically, I may have one or two. It has been over three weeks since the challenge ended and I have lost the desire for the warm, creamy, sweet and caffeinated liquid gold of Starbucks. Hot chocolate, too.

I seriously thought I would NEVER get over that living in the Pacific Northwest.

My eating habits have been radically improved but mostly this time more of it is sustaining after the challenge. I consumed less gluten and increasingly less sugar than ever. I am losing my sugar craving almost all together. Enough of the metaphors already and let’s get down to brass tacks. Here is how I am doing it.

I am blocking time each weekend, a bit on Saturday and a bit on Sunday to be proactive and productive in my own kitchen with batch prepping and meal planning. I prep days’ worth of meals in advance, all balanced, organic and healthy. It’s getting fun as I gain the efficiency producing roasted chicken, grilled salmon, hard boiled eggs, quinoa, wild rice, and about a half dozen different salads and roasted veggies at a go. When I leave or get home, something is waiting for me. There are now few excuses.

The reduction in preservatives, MSG, sodium and fats will make a huge difference is looking and feeling better. Financially, my expenses should go down. Overall, I see this as a win-win.

But let’s face it, not all of us can be Bobby Flay at the grill or some cute Food Network butterflying chicken breasts.

Here are some ideas.

I Can’t Cook Gal: Recipes on Epicurious.com, NomNom paleo and other apps can help those that aren’t intuitive in the kitchen to create new ideas. It’s bad enough if you don’t enjoy cooking. It’s even worse when your food sucks to subject yourself to an infernal quotidian of bummer dining.

I Am Too Busy: If you’re in need of a daily dose of all the good stuff, but don’t have tons of time each morning, supplement with a healthy shake. Find solutions such as Shakeology and add greens like frozen kale or spinach and organic berries and seeds. Save a third of it for when you get a mid day crash and burn and drink the rest then.

I Forget or Lack Discipline: Keeping a food journal or getting into an accountability group also helps. The participants in the forty day challenge set their own goals across seven different aspects of their journey. We always find success supporting one another.

Being open to checking in with your emotions and seeing what triggers (family, relationships, etc.) ignite your triggers and develop a plan. If I can do this, I KNOW, you can do this, too.

Whenever your inner Oliver is asking for more please, pause and see if you can identify what’s really going on. I know hot sausage and mustard, while we’re in the mood, cold jelly and custard sounds like a great idea when the hunger, stress or emotional pangs set in. But you can combat the churlish workhouse brutes by having your prepared meals ready to go and water bottle full. There is always more to your meaningful life than just food, glorious good.

Filed Under: Gadabout, Health and Wellness, Lifestyle Tagged With: 40 Day Challenge, Ali valdez, choice, diet, Discipline, eating, emotional eating, food, fruit, growth, habits, healthy eating, healthy habits, Organic, personal growth, reflection, sattva yoga, starbucks, support, transformation, vegetables

Rebel with a Cause: The true teacher that resides within us all

February 11, 2017 By Ali Valdez

By Ali Valdez

This is not my first time writing about teachers, the quality of teaching and the sacred art that comes with enabling and empowering others through our words, example and interpretation and representation of facts. This week, the educational system was dealt a wildcard. It is unclear what the impact will be when B. DeVos takes her post but we all have our opinions and concerns. I am still scratching my head wondering why she was even nominated but that is a conversation for a more politically minded blog.

What I care about is the evolution of the student and the pedagogy and standards we place on teachers and what role, if any, do I play in it?

I play a role in two ways. One, I am the parent of a ten year old. What sort of educational experience do I want her to have? Two, I am a yoga teacher who runs a Washington state vocational school. What is the quality of education going to be like for teachers on the fringe, folks like me who teach adults in non-traditional settings? What can we do to keep progressive thinking and a high standard in the educational world when we do not fall into a conventional structure?

In my field, Yoga Alliance is a thin veneer of annual fees and minimal quality control. That is not a direction that I wish to place my guidance. But it’s a start. I think I can at least find a way to sit comfortably in what it is I am capable of, less by governance and its implied limitations, but rather from my own passion and skill.

First, I admit I may be the worst mother out there because I am probably the only mother who simply doesn’t give a shit about school, its expectations and its rules. When we recently had a snow day, I read many people on Facebook asking what will the school say and do as if planning revolves around school. Our planning revolves around the needs of our life and sometimes bleep happens. Last week, while I waited in the office to take my daughter to an appointment, another mother was arguing with the front desk about why her daughter is showing one tardy when technically it was for a doctor’s appointment and asked for it to be removed.

I thought to myself, who the fuck cares?

I would just as soon manage my own time and make my own rules. Oftentimes, I refer to school as tax subsidized daycare. And maybe I’m an asshole for it. My preference would be showing my daughter the world, reading when and what she wants, taking topics of interest and intrigue in real time and shaping an experience while the mind is eager. I was granted that level of responsibility and liberty my final year in college and produced some of my best work. I loved participating in the act of choosing, allowing my inner muse to play tour guide through the educational process. Back in fourth grade and again in eighth, I was offered similar opportunities and they are the pivotal points of my education.

Please note, I appreciate the hard work and emotional support and structure her awesome teachers have given her over the years. I cannot think of a harder more dedicated class of workers in American than teachers, school teachers. I suspect many of them would want it different, too. But everything these days are tests, a working vocabulary around words like standardization and common; two things I most dread my daughter becoming.  I never imagined I could be so rebellious.

My favorite teacher from school was Dr. John Hoge. My life wouldn’t be the same without him. He initiated the mutiny by insisting I summon the rebel. He teased it out, relentlessly. I am so grateful for his tenacity to work against the system for my benefit.

This is important because I never used to be rebellious until John Hoge made it ok to be so.

And on some level, I know therein lies the fault of public education in America at least as I see it. What I was rebelling against was the person inside of me longing to be free. When I was groomed and molded by the traditional educational models, I systematically had my backbone removed. I was tacitly guided to a place where I wanted to conform and “do good”, to make my teacher proud. Dr. Hoge wanted me to make myself proud; the me that was locked up inside.

I loved him and other teachers. I also have baptism in my church and initiation with my Guru. I love my teachers. Now more than ever I want to honor them because they gave me authentic transference of wisdom (Shakti pat) not just tools to assimilate and confirm. In these scenarios, I am not entangled in the rabble of the rules. I enjoy playing by them.

This is not to say I don’t want my daughter to be respectful of their teachers. But what teachers are asked to teach these days, and the testing and standardization I do not.

It wasn’t until I became a teacher on my own terms, that I saw what wasn’t really a rebellion, but the thirst for a revolution. I want to educate and inspire souls, not just stimulate or shape minds. Perhaps school as we know it isn’t where that is meant to happen.

It is not enough to teach a group of kids mathematic tables (although it is important foundational learning). Children don’t need to punch a clock; my child isn’t going to work in a factory someday. Bells don’t ring at 8am at successful corporations or one’s own business. I feel that children need to learn how to apply reasoning and creativity to solve first small problems, to handle with grace a swath of situations, to cultivate resilience. It would be cliche to say they need yoga, but…

They need to learn to steward and tend to resources, including the quiet calling of their hearts and the whims of their imagination.

Same goes for the yogi, and yoga community. The foundational work must be established. This is for practical reasons of safety and initiation into the mysteries of the body. We all need the tools to awaken consciousness and then commit to doing something constructive with it. Yoga by means of taking forms with our bodies does aid and abet.

But we are also spirits, souls like kernels draped under a dusty shroud of husk.

Yoga cannot be the standard rap education that so many are shilling out today. Something more vital to the moment and more meaningful for our future is at stake. To address today’s challenges, schools need to adapt and rapidly, conventional and non conventional. I would encourage finding ways however possible to empower individual ripening of skills and never neglect the possibility of fostering imagination. Neglecting or shaping this spark and in time they turn to the fabricated fantasy of others.

We call it reality television and we have seen where that is precariously directing our country.

I am not saying everyone needs to go full boat Waldorf and spend hours in a fantasy library shaped like the inside of a magical tree. BTW, I enrolled my child at that school in San Francisco when she was younger and what an incredible Hobbit shire styled learning center it was. I also am not saying learning basics skills like reading and writing are not important. But you can code, learn culinary skills, play football and take tap dancing too. Why cut out the arts or make playing a sport a financial investment?

In yoga, you are not limited to learning some rote sequence, you can and should create your own, weave in themes of interest and be a safe laboratory for innovations starting at the baseline of your body first. I just wish this could happen before adulthood and start sooner when the patterning of conventionality haven’t been yet set into stone.

Consciousness is all expansive; there is plenty of playground to go around.

What I am saying is we all play a role in cultivating the future, our future together. What better way to get things off to a good start then peering through the lens of education. Liberal and conservative agendas aside, as they just two more boxes to stuff our bodies into, I think I will stick with unlimited creativity and structure based on a set of universal governing principles not hindered by culture, socio economic implications and the like.

As a teacher, I want be in the business of moksha, for bodies and spirits alike.

I guess what I really want to say is the world needs more yogis, rebels and dreamers. I just hope the right types of leaders step up wherever they are. No grizzlies need apply.

 

Filed Under: Gadabout, Philosophy, Yoga Teacher Training Tagged With: Children, creativity, education, freedom, learning, moksha, rebel, teachers, yoga teacher

The End of the Year of Endings

December 28, 2016 By Ali Valdez

by Ali Valdez

Are we ever ready to truly say goodbye? Are we ever truly ready for change not meted by our own hand?

There is something about the death of a celebrity that jolts the general public into rumination on dying and the injustice of us all at some point taking our final bow. This week, we saw several beloved celebrities dying of heart failure all in their mid-fifties. This is not an age too far from many of my students. It is unsettling when your childhood idols, princess warriors played by Carrie Fisher and your junior high prom song crooners like George Michael leaving so suddenly. It is saddening but also slightly amusing to see the “F— You 2016” memes choking up like tears on my social media feeds. But this is 2016, and it’s been a cruel and curiouser and curiouser year.

So now what?!

In yoga, we teach of kleshas, or forms of suffering created by the illusions and fluctuations of our minds. One of those is the idea of clinging to life or having a fear of dying, abhinivesa. It is the natural process of life to let go, say goodbye. In numerology, the year of 2016 signifies a year of endings (2+0+1+6=9). This should come as no surprise, because we have steadily seen this year build up to an inevitable and for many, devastating denouement. Things as we seemed to have once known them now seem disrupted and a new air of uncertainty perfumes the air with an acrid stench. No one seems to have a problem bidding adieu to 2016.

Nothing is harder than practicing non-attachment, especially when we devote our heart and soul to an endeavor, relationship or shape our understanding of the world as we want to know, conceptualize and understand it.

Yet life is never a one-size fits all and last time I checked, Willy Wonka doesn’t really give out golden tickets just for showing up, especially in 2016.

The idea of non-attachment, vairagya, is a regular theme in my yoga teachings because attachments take such varied shapes and sizes and sometimes insidiously weave into our conscious being in unconscious ways. The more awake we become, the more we realize we commit to doing the work, operating in earnest from a core set of ethics, standards and a foundational belief system. After that, all bets are off. Many circumstances in life seem unfair, but it’s counter-productive to play the victim. Many outcomes are not desired, leaving us in despair, heartbroken that the scenarios played out like a Greek tragedy, but it’s no use resisting the flow of the inevitable.

Honoring your feelings and taking time to craft your farewells in rituals, writing or prayers is a rewarding and vital process. When we lose someone, it is like a link in the chain that connects our lives breaks and drops away. We are forced to ideate new shapes and fashion new starts. My daughter recently wrote it’s like sitting in traffic next to a bright yellow car. The light seems to stay red forever, all cars standing still and then the light goes green and the yellow car zooms off, now never again to be seen.

But please do not despair. There is so much good in all the parts of play along the way. We smile at the start, delight on the path, revel in the journey. Who doesn’t embrace the experience of being loved and sharing love in return?

The good news is 2017 is a year of new beginnings; this is a time when anything can be possible. Maybe the goodbyes are for a temporary reason, perhaps something better is destined to come along. Either way, regardless of circumstance, we are solid bodies built to appreciate, learn, laugh, mourn and live. We can set our sights on new experiences fashioned from lessons learned from the past and keep our focus on the future. But today and this moment are truly the only things within our grasp.

Today, I will celebrate life.

 

Filed Under: Gadabout, General, Lifestyle, Philosophy Tagged With: 2016, celebrity death, endings, goodbye, hope, love, suffering, yoga

Santosha: The True Key to Abundance

December 21, 2016 By Ali Valdez

by Ali Valdez

We live in a complex world of increasing disillusionment, hopelessness, and pressures to achieve and consume. Somewhere between skipping stones on a glassy water surface with bare feet in the mud as a kid and the fancy car or big house whose empty rooms you try to fill by over-working on goals that you yourself did not define for yourself there is a gaping hole we are all seeking to fill. Personal achievement, fulfillment in life, and family gets us partially there, and yet, there is still something missing. The finish line remains elusive. What is it?

Santosha, or contentment, is one of the five niyamas of the eight-limb path. This is the art of being sweetly wedged between everything going the way you want and the daily disappointments and frustrations that come when everything is falling apart and not caring either way. This is not about pre-dispensation towards things going our way, it isn’t about our personal agendas. Santosha is less about the external oceans of life flowing in and out on our schedule; it is more about taming the raging waters within whereby our consciousness and spirits through yoga, breath, and meditation become that very glassy water surface that no stone of the outside world can skip and ripple.

Taking this lens, we don’t require a rose-hued glass, nor do we require any particular desired outcome. We just learn to maintain a symbiotic relationship with ourselves. The greatest abundance of all is not needing anything to feel happy and free.

We can use yoga as a platform and a tool to come into our own understanding of self. The philosophy provides a framework; the practice paves the road.

As you examine your year in retrospect, focus on the blessings, the times of gratitude, and the friends and family that bring you joy. Looking forward, continue your yoga, adopt a daily gratitude practice, anticipate that life will throw you the occasional curveball but stay resolved on finding the friend within to help you navigate the waters of life. Alter your mindset focusing more on what you can give, rather than what you expect to receive. Set goals that feed your spirit and benefit others. Set aside your valuable time to things that help you achieve your personal best. Less is more in 2017, a cycle of new beginnings. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

Want to learn ways to apply yoga philosophy and principles to support your goals and bring you increased contentment? Check out the Sattva Yoga Studios 40-Day-Challenge starting Tuesday, January 10th.

Filed Under: Gadabout, Health and Wellness, Lifestyle Tagged With: 40 Day Challenge, new year, resolutions, santosha, sattva yoga studios

Picking up the Pieces: Learning to Love After Trust is Lost

December 7, 2016 By Ali Valdez

Opening up our hearts can be one of the scariest things we can do. Making ourselves available and fully invested in the connection with someone we love and care for brings us profound purpose and at times, our deepest despair. I have heard it said that on the yogic path of transformation, it you truly want to grow spiritually, be in a committed relationship. In this Petrie dish of affection, intimacy, trust and vulnerability all sorts of deeply-seeded samskara can make themselves visible under the microscope. The Seer and Seen seeking in real time full unification. To make this work, satya (truth) is a key ingredient.

Oftentimes we exalt the monk sitting in the tranquil mountains. Individuals that follow the prescriptive guidance of Swami Swatrama as ameliorated in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika get to nestle into their dried dung sanctuaries devoid of loud company and the cloying obligations of the householder. But the real work, the feet on the street, comes from just getting through everyday life with someone outside of yourself with whom there can be found deeper intimacy within.

No relationship is immune to the sobering if not, at times, brutal realities of our collective co-existence. For anyone who has endured trauma, death, infidelity, addiction or deceptions can attest, the true metrics and mettle of our yoga testimony and willingness to seek expansion through open-heartedness can turn those warm beating beauties into frozen steel cages. Has there ever been a point in a true relationship whereby we haven’t found ourselves shaken and rattled to our core?

For years I sought out the best teachers worldwide. I wanted to learn the siddhis, master meditation, test the limits of my physical body with thumos. Now I have come to realize that it’s not the master teachers from studios’ in far-flung places that will hone my skills, it’s the firmament beneath my feet at the studio I own and those that pass through its doors.

I realized it is my own students that make my best teachers. They are not the monks in the Himalayas but the mother of five, the waiter, and massage therapist that studies in my intensive programs that are amplifying my game.

Through this process and energy exchange, we still learn about yoga and also about one another. We get comfortable and begin not only to share but work through the layers we are peeling away together. Sometimes there are tears, always hugs. Elation and smiles continue on through their graduation and completion of studies and becomes mentorships, friendships and business partners. The yoga is not about the meditation or the asana, but about compassion for one another, our frail humanity. Sometimes we are met with the truth we all so desire, other times, our pursuit of honesty is shattered.

This past week I have personally experienced more sadness meted out with these caring souls than I have in many years. Admittedly, it has been daunting.

My heart is aching like a heavy stone.

This hurting feels like I’m losing my footing rolling that same stone up the side of a steep hill. At the heart of all these situations is lost trust and dishonesty. This is a sad place to be; a destination to which no one would ever want to arrive and yet once down its path, one cannot escape. There was a convergence in the ugliness of dishonesty that intersected and challenged my vantage points on what it means to truly trust, surrender, survive and then forgive. I literally probably have never loved more, or wanted to be more fully present than in these hours of need. I grew up emotionally; I felt a shift spiritually.

By Sunday, I was exhausted.

But I was also lucky. I feel that those of us who practice yoga in earnest have been gifted with yogic tools to cope with these disillusionments and so us yogis can take steps to process, heal and use these experiences to grow, not wither into the fray. Nonetheless, unwittingly living a lie and being lied to sucks. No amount of Om Shanti takes that away. Without disclosing things shared in confidence, I had two students dealing with spousal infidelity and dishonesty, leaving them uncertain of their futures. Another situation a student of mine spiraled out of control in their unrelenting battle against alcohol and drug addiction, months and months of accumulated lies through the acts of omission, manipulation and repression of feeling and trauma.

The most insidious types of lies are the ones that begin by lying to ourselves.

Not even the yoga teacher is immune. Recently I was personally if not gravely deceived by someone I cared for, invested deeply and believed in immensely, my first real foray into the concept of unconditionality, even though not in the shape of romantic love. It was more like unconditional acceptance. Hours spent in the warm presence of this eidolon and instantly I felt protected, safe to express myself freely and without judgment and to offer the same in return. It was a new level of trust, listening and reciprocity. I was grateful for the gift of our time together and believed this was a meaningful friendship with a higher level of authenticity. Well, for me anyway. Like my students, I was equally led astray and deceived. What I learned once the truth of months of misrepresentation and intentional deceit spilled forth, albeit humbly and with sincere remorse, left me bottomed out in my guts, pulled the rug out from under me, and left me acutely empathetic to what my beloved students were feeling in their own lives and sharing with me over the course of many years.

These shared journeys help fortify how we as yogis can utilize the practice and principles of the eight limbs to move past challenging situations where we are betrayed. It would seem impossible by conventional thinking to move past and forgive, to invest in all circumstances in life with equal possibility and beauty. Yet in yoga, it almost demands such rigor and change in mindset. Does this mean you run back to the abusive partner or invest time and heart with someone who is not honest with you, let alone to themselves? Not necessarily. What it does mean is that in dishonesty, at some point, satya will be illuminated and revealed and a greater truth that we all share will come to light. I have cried for seven days straight. I haven’t prayed with greater intent than in my years as a lay pastor at my church. Some of us don’t like the truth. Like digging the sun out from under the earth, the process won’t be easy, may even seem impossible to let go and move on. But if we can live life honestly to ourselves and to others we begin to see the greatest truth of all: we are all one and mere reflections of aspects of ourselves. May we be gracious to one another as we tread with uncertainty this path we call life.

Filed Under: Gadabout, Philosophy Tagged With: love, relationships, samskara, satya, Trust

Departure Gate: INDIA

December 7, 2016 By Ali Valdez

Arrived and rested, ready for the adventures that await.

So much of what we interpret as fact is woven into the fabric of our imaginations through the insights of others. When thinking about traveling to more exotic and far-afield parts of the world, first impressions are often distorted of tales of the impoverished and disadvantaged. We hear stories of the hopeless despair of those whose lives are not painted in the same strokes of our own. India sometimes falls into that category. For years, I listened to young yogis share their “view” of the mother country. The smells, the history, the poverty, the overcrowding, the sounds, the pollution – get ready.

I saw Eat, Pray, Love (preferred the book) and would have stayed cozied up in Italy eating vats of pasta any old day. So many impressions, a multitude of opinions, now was my time to form my own from first-hand experience. But would I be shocked, overwhelmed, incensed? Would I love or hate the place? There was no middle path for what a trip to India would be. As a yogi, it’s hard not to feel obligated to have a spiritual awakening amidst the ash-clad sadhus wandering around piles of burning garbage, sunken-bellied cows with the stunning mountains and gilded saris in the background.

The intention of this trip was to collaborate with an NGO with Bloom & Give. Last year I was invited to become one of their yogi Instagram ambassadors. I loved their products, beautifully hand crafted textiles and their social mission: to keep girls in school longer. Fifty percent of the Bloom and Give products’ profit goes to Educategirls.ngo (EG) which is a small grass-roots movement helping rural community villages learn the value of keeping their daughters in school. This trip would include all the yoga, travel and sightseeing and diversional bus rides one could imagine. But we also had a social agenda: to learn how young girls and women are treated in India. We visited primary schools, a boarding school, the village advocates, the girls’ mothers, and worked a day in a textile factory where women make $17 a month.

What we learned surprised us; what we learned about ourselves and our limited worldview was also illuminating.

We arrived under a sulfur colored sky and took in the indelible New Delhi air. After two days of flying and a lost layover in London, we were ready to start our journey to the land of impossible hyperbole. India is India after all. A few decades of yoga practice and several decades in technology too, I have felt India a near and dear place through the relationships I have developed with her people and with India’s gift of the yoga practice now blessing the West.

When we landed and made our way to the diplomatic enclave, I was struck first by the beautiful greenery sometimes forgotten in the biggest cities. We left the airport with minimal traffic. Delhi was a beautiful city. It is also the most polluted city, but that was the only commentary I had heard. I preferred focusing on the beautiful rows of flowering trees.

This should be a quick trip to the hotel, I opined. Then all that changed; the reality of real India took us by surprise.

Two girls in India, two different realities. The young woman on the left is a leader at her boarding school; the other is a child bride dressed in red wedding attire.

A tsunami of scooters, cars in this emerging BRIC economy dammed up around the bend with a curious configuration of side players peddling rusty old bikes, a few sandaled and speeding by on skateboards. Looking over to the right between the over packed buses with not a single square inch of space between the armpits of fellow men, women and children we saw the others choosing more domesticated approaches to their transportation as one man took to camel, another by elephant. It was not overwhelming as we sat in sub-standard air conditioning and heard the non-stop symphony of car horns barking at everyone and no one at the same time. It was nothing more than being greeted by Mother India herself as she opened the door with her excited children screaming and swirling about excited for their guests.

I never lost my calm in India and there were many challenging times. The opportunities, like its diverse population, offer an unlimited amount of stress triggers like guitar strings waiting to be played and plucked. Here is one example: the ill-directed driver who took us on a misguided nine hour detour through the shanties between Delhi and Rishikesh, stopping at road stop bathrooms one step up from Slumdog Millionaire.

What I quickly learned about India was she keeps her own schedule. In this way, she is obstinate, immovable like a mountain sheath. Try to get your coordinated taxis to meet you as discussed at a certain time or place betwixt the market stalls of Rishikesh, well, good luck. Need to get to the airport three hours early? As outlandish as it seems, yes, most likely.

She is also abundant and fecund, fluid and moving like the Ganges River. Everywhere you look, you are impressed by the richness of greenery and vastly dynamic landscapes, each region its own tableau for storytelling through cuisine, culture and aesthetics. I was starting to get for the first time in my life both the powerful life force of planet as woman, her body and the resources it offers, and the insatiable cruelty and greedy entitlement we force upon her like hungry dogs nipping at her teats. There is a beauty in her selflessness. Even if it seems a romanticized view of India, and worse yet one peering through the speckled lens of a Western yoga teacher, I still would hold tight to my feelings that India has everything of a land lost in time as it does a civilization coming to grips with finding its bearings in the modern world.

Mother India and her lion. So much to learn about Shakti force and the role of women on this planet from this special place on Earth.

As we drove through the deserts of Rajasthan, the mountains of Rishikesh and the cities of Agra and Delhi in between, I saw the many sides of the Mother, and I reflected on her resources. How much more does she have to give before she breaks? How many ways are we as a people around the world taxing her health? History and the sun shine down upon her, and show her favor. But like spoiled kids, do we show her the respect she deserves?

When does the young maiden evolve into the mother, raise her young and then like a setting sun fade into the crone?

The greatest learning for me about how girls and women are treated in India came through the meditations and considerations given to India and the Earth as mother more than interacting with the children.

Now, let’s get to those kids, shall we?

Nothing could have prepared me (and we had hours upon hours to prepare because the dusty roads out to these rural village shows were long) for walking into the schools. I started to cry immediately. These weren’t sympathy tears; I was moved by the beautiful spirit of these children and that I had the opportunity to be there with them for that day. I wished with my whole heart that my daughter could have been there with me.

The classroom floor for the Kindergartners was covered in sukhasana kids. They looked at us as we walked in with fascination. Their big eyes widened with nervous and bashful curiosity. Most of these children never leave their small rural village. Only a handful had even made it in for a field trip to Jaipur. Americans (oh and one Czech), blondes, women with cornrows, women with light skin, some with dark skin but different features, one Asian man, nine women without saris.

Who are these strange looking people, I imagined them thinking.

The conditions of the classroom were not horrible at all. Granted, they did not have computer labs (one of my first original ideas for the visit, but alas, the infrastructure and connectivity is not available out in these parts to connect or maintain such systems). We had translators ask them questions, and a few stood up and shared. With each classroom, the children got taller, opened up a bit more, but the size of the classrooms kept shrinking.  This became undeniable for the number of girls in school after the third grade. It is the harvest time, we were told, and girls work in the fields. But for most of them, it means, they have completed their education.

Two of the mothers that broke from the tribal structure of their village and pulled their daughters out of the fields and into the classroom.

The reality for many young girls in these remote traditional places, some of which are not even registered via census for context, are committed in marriage at exceptionally young ages. As early as age eight, these girls have the rest of their lives laid out for them. There will not be opportunities for education or for careers. For some, there will be no real decision-making in the course their life will take. This is impalpable for the Westerner to comprehend, as we are afforded with so many liberties that it takes having conversations in these far reaches of the world to understand how different we view basic standards of living and moral imperatives like personal choice.

We did an art project with some of the girls and hung around taking selfies. For some of these young girls, they had never seen a picture of themselves before. We were able to show pictures of our kids, our pets and what it likes like where we live. They took to the phones with massive interest. Some things clearly are universal and transcend cultural barriers. We gave our phones to a couple of the older girls who got to shoot pictures and film our day.

At the end, we were asked to take a group photo with the school leaders and they asked us to sign their guest book. Something as simple as being asked to sign a paper record of our visit seemed so removed from our Seattle high-tech disposable lifestyles and impersonal ways of connecting.

From there, we traveled to a boarding school for older girls. Some are residing there as orphans and others have their mothers nearby in the village where the EG team discussed with them the importance of educating their children. Girls who receive longer education create more income, have less children and in general marry years later. This has great advantages for getting out of cycles of poverty and enables personal empowerment. We met a few of the EG advocates, young women with smiles that go from house to house in the village meeting parents. It only takes one family to make the choice to keep their daughter in school that create the groundswell and social influence for other families to follow suit.

Rajasthan now has more girls enrolled in school than other states within India and EG is expanding. At the boarding school, we met with the leadership counsel of young women who each take on certain roles and are given titles. Each stood up and shared their name, title and their role at the school. There is the girl who on-boards new arrivals, one that teaches the girls about hygiene. Other girls work to comfort the younger girls, another does sports, another games and birthdays. I was blown away by their confident smiles. We met with a few of the village mothers who shared why they sent their daughters to school there. This is a place that values girls and in a place like India, that is not always the case, at least in the ways that we understand or find it socially acceptable.

Young children sharing their stories and smiling larger than life at the primary school visit we made. A circle of sports for the girls at the boarding school, all playing, living and working together to empower and love one another.

We kept the day fun and in high spirits. I loved spending time with these future leaders. What I witnessed was a new future for the young women of India, a ground-swelling of women becoming empowered. I saw and felt hope. There was no need for pity whatsoever. You also don’t need to dip in the Ganges or hang out in an ashram to find yoga in India. It’s on every street, in the hand of every beggar, in the bright-eyes smile of its children and the warm hosts we met along the way. A garland of malas and balloon pants in Rishikesh was not where the insights are found. We found them on the streets and in the villages.

Yes, Mother India was raising her daughters. On that trip, she raised me up a little bit, too. Thank you, Mother India.

Filed Under: Gadabout, Travel Tagged With: Bloom & Give, Departure Gate, India, travel

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