The Seed of Anger

       Anger is perhaps one of the most complex of human emotions. Tich Naht Hanh compares it to a Tiger we have to tame. The Buddha compared it to grasping a hot coal. Famous proverbs tell us that anger is like a fire that spreads and spreads until it burns everything in sight. But, what is anger really? The dictionary defines anger as: A strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure or hostility. Sometimes it seems that the whole world is angry.
       At the coffee shop in the morning we are angry about the long line. On the subway we are angry about the commute. At our jobs we are angry about the amount of work we have. At home we are angry....why are we so angry? I once read that anger is a blanket for hurt. Under anger lies hurt, betrayal, sadness. This was the only explanation that made sense to me. We are angry because we are hurt, or we've been hurt, or we don't know how to sit with our hurt. It's too painful to sit with so much pain and so we get angry.
      How do we remedy our anger? We care for it. We sit with it and we observe it. We look deep into the eye of our anger and we hold our gaze there. If there is one thing we don't do, it's feed our anger. But we do hold it. Anger, how are you today? Why are you so angry? You are sitting there brooding like a baby. Come out into the sunlight and be present. Anger, you can't stay angry forever.
       Anger is a closed flower and we must give it sunlight and water so that tomorrow on line in the coffee shop, on the subway, at work, at home we can smile in the face of it, we can cradle our hurt and dissipate this feeling of anger.

In Jackson Heights Queens, in the basement of a tall grey house with brown window panes, the Hindi woman wearing silken white robes asks us to please take our seats. The room is hot and chairs are set up in rows of four that go all the way to the back of the room. At the front there is a great point of light on the wall, a bouquet of fresh yellow roses and a candelabra that has statues of three women holding hands reaching up to guard the candles. The lights dim down and the point of light on the front wall lights up and we, which is only five of us, close our eyes.
"You are a point of light" a recording whispers. "You were born into this body, but you are not this body and you are not this mind." We breathe, some of us deeply, others as if we haven't taken a breath in years. Some of our breathing is light, other breath is heavy, many breaths are sad or joyful.
There is no right or wrong way to breathe, the same goes for meditation. The importance lies in the showing up. We have shown up.
Rumi once said "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." We sit and we seek those barriers. We breathe. The meditation goes on for thirty minutes. Some of us have fallen asleep. Some of us feel relaxed. Many of us are perplexed. We show up every week. We breathe.
At 7:00 p.m. after our meditation the Hindi woman in the white silken robes sits underneath the point of light at the front of the room. She does not speak until she is ready and she glows. It is not the light on the wall that makes her glow, but rather an inner light, an understanding, a breath.
She smiles a smile that reminds us of our mothers. A smile so sweet and sad and joyous all at once. She asks us how we are. "How are you?" she whispers. "Did you enjoy your meditation?" she asks.
One of us nods, one of us says yes, many of us are silent. "How are you?" she whispers again.
"Did you meditate? Did you sleep? Did you go farther than sleep? Deeper than sleep? Where did you go?" She smiles as if she has a secret. "Let's talk about the river" she says, "how it flows even over the sharp rocks. How in the face of tragedy it sings, it sleeps, it roars. Let's talk about the river."
We think of water. We think of how it cleanses, we think of swimming, sprinklers, bathtubs, showers we think of the river. Our thoughts are still. "We must be like the river" she says.
"Your task is not to seek for love..." We come back again and again to find our breath. Every week we walk down the narrow stairs at the back of the tall grey house with the brown window-panes. We are points of light learning to flow through our days and our situations, learning to fulfill our task and awaken that which we thought had vanished.

Fall Renewal Weekend 
Yoga & Meditation Retreat
with Evalena Leedy, Ariel Kiley
 & Genno Linda King

Friday, September 14th thru Sunday, September 16th 2012


Revive, reconnect and re-center at this inspiring yoga/meditation retreat held at Dai Bosatsu Zendo, a Zen monastery high in the Catskills. Take the opportunity to regain your own natural rhythm and reconnect with yourself and with nature. Immerse yourself in two daily yoga sessions, practice zen meditation, and pranayama. 
An introduction to zen meditation will be offered for those wish to attend. Refresh your spirit by taking a leisurely walk around the lake, or hike through 1,400 acres of unspoiled forest. 
Enjoy three delicious vegetarian meals,plus snacks, tea and coffee throughout the day.

Arrive Friday by 4pm for our opening Yoga Blend Restorative class and optional meditation. 
Depart Sunday 2pm and return home renewed, refreshed and revitalized.

Cost: $350pp includes all yoga/meditation,
shared accommodations for 2 nights and all meals
*Single Room add $50
*Single/Double Room w/private bath add $75 (limited availabilty)

To reserve your space or for more info contact:
evalena@yogasole.com 718 541-1382

Transportation options: Car Pool (expenses shared) or bus from NYC. 
For more information on the
practice and driving directions go to to
zenstudies.org/daibosatsuzendo

Our Optimum Health

Two years ago I started doing something I thought I could never do: I started running. At first it was terrible. In elementary school I could never finish laps around the gym. In high school I was twenty five pounds overweight. The last time I remembered running was as an eight year old girl on the playground and even then I hated it. So why start? It was something I thought I could never do, and I had to prove myself wrong. At the time that I started running I was in a tough spot in my life. Nothing was going right and I was living somewhere I needed to leave but I didn't think I had the strength to do it. I didn't even have the courage. I read a quote somewhere by a buddhist monk who said "love what you most despise...love what is repulsive to you." That day I bought my first pair of running sneakers.
The first day of my routine I got up at five in the morning and jogged for one minute through the South Bronx, then I walked, then I jogged, then I walked and so on. I felt useless. The next day I got up again. Just waking up and putting on my sneakers proved a lot to me about myself and my abilities to change my circumstances. Every day that I ran I got better and stronger and more courageous. In January 2011 on New Year's Eve, I signed up for the Midnight Marathon through Central Park. It's a four mile marathon to ring in the new year. I went alone in my sweats and the tee shirt they hand out and my number pinned proudly on my front. I still couldn't run far but I ran and walked the mini-marathon. Two months later I moved out of the Bronx. One month after that I began yoga, another thing I thought I could never do.
I always hear people talk about the oxygen bags on airplanes and how before you put the oxygen over your child's mouth you must first put it over your own. This is because you must save yourself in order to save your child. Taking care of myself physically, emotionally and spiritually is a daily challenge. Our culture is always on the go and it's easy to get lost in it all. Yoga and running both bring me to an internal place. They are both meditative and transforming.
Summer is a good time to start to make small changes. It's warm out, the flowers are in bloom and we can't escape ourselves. It's also more difficult to escape the things which repulse us. Instead of escaping this summer why don't we grab a hold of what scares us and start loving what we most despise. This is my challenge to you this month. Put on some running sneakers...run through the park...then join us for some yoga.

Experience the Joy of Summer Practice Yoga in Prospect Park with YogaSole FREE Summer Yoga in Prospect Park (Meet under the Big Trees) Sunday Mornings 10am - 11am Dates: Sundays in July (1st, 8th, 15th, 22nd & 29th) All levels *Beginners Most Welcome  Invite your Friends, Family & Neighbors ***Bring your Mat***  In this class, students will explore their strength and flexibility through a flow series of postures that incorporates twists, balancing, and some inversion. We will exploring the body's subtleties, celebrate and honor our connection to the natural world. Build your endurance through breath, deepen your stretches, and increase self-awareness.   Where Enter at the Bartel Pritchard Lot, 15th St. (adjacent to 15th St F train station). Just across from the Pavilion Movie Theater. Walk straight ahead, down the drive. You will come to the main loop. Gaze slightly to the left. We will practice under the big trees. See you there.

Meditation/Contemplation/Relaxation

     My father liked to play three things: Chess, Poker and Piano. He would sit in the living room for hours and play some of Bach's, Chopin's and Beethoven's greatest sonatas. On Friday nights he would cut the deck for four of his friends and on Sunday's he would go to Coney Island and challenge the older russian men with his U.S./Soviet chess board. All three of these things aggravated his children.
     "Pop can we go to the movies?" we would shout from upstairs. We were met with a silent response and more music coming out of the Steinway.
     "Pop, can we go get ice cream?" the cards were held up to hide my father's face and a cough, a groan, even a sneeze followed.
     Once my father was concentrating on something, there was no disturbing him. He was set on the task at hand. He also took us to baseball games, he watched us ride our bikes, he bought us clothes and fed us. I remember that while he was playing chess he was so calm I felt the only thing that could possibly interrupt him is if a tornado had swept the board off the table, and even then he would probably still have an image in his mind of his next play.
     During my first meditation class I had a panic attack. The room I was in seemed to be getting smaller. It was hot. My mouth was dry. As hard as I tried to focus on my first breath, it felt like it never came, or it was to quick. I was sweating. What were all of these feelings about? Where was the calm in my life? Sometimes in the meditation group I would sit with my eyes wide open and watch everyone else.
     One day I closed my eyes in the meditation group and heard Beethoven's Sonata number eight. It had been my favorite as a child. When my father played that sonata I would dance around the living room with my arms up like a ballerina and imagine a whole theatre in front of me. As I closed my eyes I understood for the first time the reason my father played music, chess and cards. All three of those things for him was a form of meditation. Participating in those three activities didn't fix any of the problems in his life, but they were a calming way for him to accept and get through every day. For my father, sitting at the piano was his time to breathe. Nothing could disturb him because he was at peace.
     When I close my eyes to meditate I still always try to hear my father's piano. It brings a wave of calm over me and allows me to focus on my breath. As I continue on my path through life I understand that meditation is a practice, much like piano, chess and cards. It is an exercise in accepting what is. It is a journey and a lesson that nothing needs to be fixed and we can accept things as they are. It is an art and a window into our most inner selves: the real us, without all the bells and whistles. It allows us to relax and it gives us permission to let go.

Yoga & Meditation Retreat 
with Evalena & Genno Linda King
Friday, May 18th thru Sunday, May 20th 2012

Revive, reconnect and re-center at this inspiring yoga/meditation retreat held at Dai Bosatsu Zendo, a Zen monastery high in the Catskills. Take the opportunity to regain your own natural rhythm and reconnect with yourself and with nature. Immerse yourself in two daily yoga sessions, practice zen meditation, and pranayama.

click here to visit our website Retreat page for more info
To reserve your space or for more info contact:
evalena@yogasole.com 718 541-1382

Yoga Tune-Up: How Mirror Neurons Trigger Healing Even Before Class Begins

This article comes to us from Ariel Kiley, a certified Yoga Tune Up® Instructor with Classes and Workshops in NY & CA – enjoy!

A few minutes before I was about to teach a recent yoga therapy class a middle-aged woman named Fran shuffled through the studio door, her shoulders slumped and demeanor apologetic. I could immediately sense Fran’s discomfort and fear that she wouldn’t be welcomed. I asked if this was her first yoga experience. “Yes,” she said. “Wonderful,” I replied, then proceeded to ask if she had any injuries or conditions I should be aware of.  With her eyes averted towards the floor, she rattled off a list of ailments from arthritis to low back pain to a sprained ankle that was taking a while to heal.  She said she had been to doctors, but they could do little to help, so a friend suggested she try yoga.  I told her that I didn’t know if yoga therapy alone could heal her ailments, but we were all happy to have her and she was at the perfect place to start exploring a yoga practice. By the time she found her seat and class began I could see, that without even starting to address her physical ailments, she was already starting to feel better.
In my experience, these introductory moments are a crucial time to feel out what’s going on with a new student, show that you completely accept them as they are, and communicate both verbally and energetically that you care. In Health, Healing and Beyond T.K.V. Desikachar states, “All that a teacher of Yoga can guarantee, to repeat, is: ‘I can care’. It appears that more often than not something beneficial will happen.”
With the discovery of mirror neurons, we can better understand how these simple introductions set the stage on not just an emotional, but a neurological level, for healing to begin. “Found in several areas of the brain, mirror neurons fire in response to chains of actions linked to intentions” explains Sandra Blakeslee in her New York Times article Cells That Read Minds. Basically, our mirror neurons allow us to instantaneously perceive, understand and internalize the actions and motives of others. These highly specialized neurons are how we empathize with others, why we literally “feel” their pain, shame, sorrow or joy. As a teacher (or human being for that matter), your empathy towards others allows you to tune in to their inner state, and their mirror neurons are immediately touched by the fact that you care. This, of course, is helpful to keep in mind when taking on a class full of students with different physical needs.
My group yoga therapy classes are a catchall for students with a vast spectrum of serious injuries and conditions. In my ‘Yoga Tune Up®: Pain Relief’ class there are students with torn rotator cuffs, severed tendons, fibromyalgia, cancer, herniated disks, sciatica, piriformis syndrome, arthritis and multiple sclerosis. A common denominator I have felt among students living with ongoing physical pain is the fear that their discomfort will never cease.  After repeated attempts to heal, they often lose hope and personalize their pain – exacerbating it with feelings of guilt or shame. Like Fran, by the time they show up at a yoga therapy class they have generally already undergone specialized treatment or therapies, to varying degrees of efficacy, and oftentimes entering the studio is their last resort.
While each individual body may have unique needs, it is reassuring to know that the attitude you bring as a teacher will resonate across the board. As each student soaks up an alternative, positive attitude toward a student’s physical ailment, they immediately mirror it, and their energy begins to shift. As with Fran, they become more settled, relaxed, open and warm. The combined energy of the group can enhance this “vibe”, finding lightness and humor while experimenting with different techniques to facilitate healthy transformation in damaged or compromised tissue. Whether or not the individual symptoms subside, the experience of being in a space where the students feel safe and cared for can go a long way toward relieving their discomfort.
Desikachar states: “It is not the most brilliant intellect that makes such a teacher.  It is the inner capacity to care about someone else more than yourself.”  By simply energetically conveying to each new student or person that you meet, that you genuinely care, the healing begins.

Born Yogis

    "I wish I had a photograph of this classroom." It is Tuesday at 9 a.m. and Evalena has just taught her therapeutic yoga class at YogaSole. "The great thing about this class, is that there are so many different people who come for so many different reasons." It's true. Looking around the studio on any Tuesday or Thursday morning there are a rainbow of students. Some students are seniors and are just starting to move their bodies again. Other students are young athletes who have suffered injuries. Some are students who don't feel comfortable in a fast-paced or even a beginner level yoga class and the therapeutic yoga class works at a more comfortable slower pace.
     Therapeutic comes from the Greek word "therapeutikos" which is derived from "therapeuein" meaning "to attend" or "to treat". In 1893, Swami Vivekananda spoke in Chicago about therapeutic yoga and it as introduced through the parliament of religions to the United States. In the early 1980's it started to gain popularity again. Books began to be published about how yoga therapy could be an intervention on heart disease. By the 1990's most insurance companies were approving coverage and making yoga therapy part of medical procedures.
     What does this all mean?It means that yoga is a way for us to do what is usually difficult for most of us: care for ourselves. How can we attend to ourselves? How can we be our own caretakers? Yoga teaches us to treat ourselves with kindness. Kindness is a strange word, because we usually use this word while speaking about other people. "Treat people with kindness" "be kind" "Kill 'em with kindness" are just a few sayings our society uses frequently. True kindness must first come from inside.
     At YogaSole during the therapeutic yoga classes an interesting thing happens. People who haven't moved their bodies in years, or people who are learning different ways to use their bodies, become kind. They turn their kindness inwards and focus on first being kind to themselves. This takes breath and patience. We were born yogis, we just need to attend to ourselves as if we were attending to a small child who needs us. Often we don't realize that we are the small child as well as the caretaker.

Reaching Towards Your Warrior

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I shall assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you."
-Walt Whitman "Song of Myself"

Warrior one, warrior two...what does it mean to be a warrior? A peaceful warrior? What do these poses represent? I've started asking myself questions every morning. It's a good way to find answers, or to sit with confusion and be o.k. with that.
This morning at YogaSole the Thursday morning meditation group met at 8 a.m. On my way into the studio I saw the students leaving with a halo of peace around them ready to begin their day. As I did my own short meditation I too felt the calmness of the morning in my bones. This is when I start to write.
The warrior. When we think of warriors we often don't think of ourselves. Maybe we picture large armies with heavy swords and knights in armor. A warrior might also be thought of as someone heroic. Warrior one and two are a couple of my favorite yoga poses. So much strength must be used throughout the whole body. There has to be a serious grounding in the legs. An acupuncturist once told me when I had a leg problem that it was because I was stuck in the past. I'm not sure how true that is, but Warrior two always forces me to be in the present moment. By gazing forward and grounding the legs I feel like an old oak tree that has been around for thousands of years, a piece of nature which refuses to be knocked over by the wind, but instead, agrees to bend with it.
There is a story behind these poses. The story doesn't matter as much as your own story but it ends with a daughter who gets so angry she goes up in flames and her father is so upset he pulls a tuft of hair from his head, beats it and his most powerful warrior appears.
When does your powerful warrior appear? Here is what I know: we are all courageous, and we are all heroic. We do not need so much armor to understand this, but we have a habit of building walls.  I know this because when I breathe into these poses I feel a strength that I wasn't sure I had. The peaceful warrior cools the fire, eases the flames and becomes notorious. Sing a song of yourself today. You are a warrior.

"I have said that the soul is not more than the body
And I have said that the body is not more than the soul
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is"
-Walt Whitman "Song of Myself"