Why Practice Arm Balances?

I would consider myself a risk averse thrill seeker. What this means to me is that I love the thrill of doing something new and apparently dangerous, but only once I am reasonably assured that I have taken some basic precautions. This has attracted me to pursuits such as roller coaster riding, free diving, and bike commuting.

When I began practicing yoga, my adventurous side was drawn to inversions and arm balances. These two groups of poses challenged my idea of what one is supposed to do; they are not positions in which one would naturally find oneself. I began practicing with the goal of doing crazy things with my body in space, but I discovered that these poses are very powerful in developing focus and concentration. When you are upright and standing on two feet it is easy to let your mind wander; if you do this while upside down you will fall on your face.

maybe someday...
(via pinterest.com)

When teaching I always incorporate an arm balance into my classes. I believe that simple arm balances are a concrete way to see that you've pushed yourself and feel a sense of accomplishment. I know that yoga is supposed to be non-competitive, even within oneself, but, especially with new students, it can feel really good to finally nail a cool pose, encouraging someone who might otherwise give up to continue with their practice.

Although I often work arm balances into my regular flows, I make a point to teach one of two poses in all of my classes: crow pose and shoulder pressure pose. Both poses are very accessible to new students and both allow for simple progression through the pose so you can see that you are making progress.

Learning to balance in crow pose was the key to my ability to use my core to control my postures. To develop a good base I will instruct students to simply crouch as low to the floor as is comfortable, then plant their hands firmly, shoulder width apart, then begin to lean forwards while squeezing the elbows towards one another. If the knees and shins can comfortably connect with the triceps, keep that connection while leaning forwards, keeping the gaze about a foot or so in front of the hands. Once comfortable with leaning forwards, one can begin to play with lifting the feet, tucking one heel, then the other, towards the glutes.

Size isn't an obstacle :-)
(via yogapancake.com)

I enjoy teaching this pose to new students because I don't think there's a good way to cheat your way into crow. In order to progress through the pose, you have to play. You'll fall on your face quite a few times and if you don't engage your core, you won't be able to keep your hips high enough to allow the feet to lift. Once the feet are lifted and you are able to stay here for a few breaths, you have direct knowledge of the core control necessary to maintain that balance. If the pose is practiced regularly, that core control will be cultivated and can be applied to every other pose.

(via marylandyoga.com)

However, because of the head position in crow pose, the pose can be very intimidating. I probably teach shoulder pressure pose more often than crow simply because, even though it requires much more flexibility in the hips, it is less intimidating. I often start from a squatted position and just work to get the hands firmly planted on the mat. Once the hips are open enough, begin to walk the hands back, until they can plant behind the heels; it is necessary for me to lift my hips here so that there is enough space for my arms. I find that cupping the heel with the index finger and thumb is about the right hand placement for me; this is just what is comfortable on my shoulders and hips. Once you can press the hands fully into the mat behind the feet, allow the thighs to rest on the upper arms while squeezing the elbows together. Eventually you'll begin to walk the feet towards each other, until you can hook one ankle on top of the other. Once the ankles are crossed, press into the hands and begin to sit back, allowing the ankles to rise off the mat.

This pose takes the fear of falling out of arm balances. It also has very distinct steps to work through in getting to the final pose so progress can be easily measured. I certainly don't expect every student to get into either crow or shoulder pressure pose. I keep them in my teaching repertoire because they encourage play and provide a sense of accomplishment. I believe that things in life should be fun; my go-to farewell is not "goodbye" but "have fun." By encouraging students to take some time to play with something as crazy as balancing on their hands, I hope that I have allowed them to bring some more fun into their lives and continue this pursuit off the mat.

Solo Travel

As a solo traveler, I spent a lot of time meeting new people and spending time alone. I discovered that I have a strong need for alone time; I realize that I had been taking care of this need by going riding for hours on the weekends, alone, but traveling alone was definitely a different experience.

One of the first questions I am asked is whether I was lonely traveling. I can't say that I was ever by myself. There were always people to hang out with; most of them were very interesting and I enjoyed our time together. However, at some point I began craving familiarity. Generally the same topics are discussed when hanging out with travelers: where you've been, where you're going, what's your life situation that allows you to travel. While very interesting, I began longing for the type of nonsense conversation you can only really have with someone with whom you feel comfortable. As someone who takes a long time to warm up to a new person, this type of brief contact is not conducive to close friendships.

Does this seem like a bad idea to you?

Why travel solo if there's a lack of lasting connections to other people? Freedom. My plans changed all the time. I would set out for the day with a rough itinerary but run into something cool and the whole day would turn out differently. There was the last minute trip to the beach in Cambodia that totally threw off my Cambodia/Laos itinerary but I felt was necessary at the time (and I don't regret at all). I am not very rigid in my travel style; I generally have an idea of the route I want to take but I am very flexible once on the road. I know that this works for me, but traveling without an itinerary can be very stressful for others.

As a young white girl, alone, I became very approachable to other travelers. While this might sound dangerous, Manila was the only place that I felt uncomfortable walking around by myself at night. I felt far safer in SE Asia than I do in most of the US. I do not know whether the statistics back me up on this claim; I make this statement only based on my experience. I met a lot of other girls traveling solo and they echoed the same sentiments. Since I wasn't traveling with an itinerary, these interactions became the way I planned my travels. I'd listen to stories of what people enjoyed or felt was a waste of time, and plan accordingly.

I have traveled with people in the past, and my next trip I'm planning with friends. It is definitely scarier leaving for a trip by yourself. Familiar faces provide a comfort that cannot be replicated. Once I got past the initial shock of being someplace new, I was okay and thankful for the freedom I had that would have been sacrificed for a familiar face. Coming back to the US I found I was so used to just doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, that I would get annoyed whenever I had to make plans. When I moved back to DC, I didn't tell anyone that I was back for about a week because I wanted to preserve that freedom to which I had grown so accustomed.

For someone who has never traveled solo before, it can seem very intimidating. I like to think of myself as fairly adventurous and I know that I certainly had reservations about solo travel for an undefined amount of time. However, if the lack of companionship is the primary factor holding back your travel plans, just book your ticket and go. Even if you never want to travel solo again, it is an experience that will demonstrate just how much you are capable of doing on your own.

Making a Mess

I've been back in the US for almost six weeks now trying to readjust to the real world. Each of those six weeks had a distinct goal and, looking back, it seems like it was a good way to get back into the swing of things. Considering that I was in Asia for only three months, a month to get back into things might seem excessive, but when I arrived in the US in February, I was not ready to go back to work and my old life.

When I left for Asia I had a strong need to shake things up in my life. I was bored at work and bored with DC. I had lived in the same house for two years, same metro area for six, and I was too complacent to seek out my own challenges anymore. Although I could have quit my job and moved to a new city,  given that I didn't dislike my company or DC, I opted for the more temporary shake up of a one way ticket to Hong Kong. At first I opted for my usual travel style: walk everywhere, see as much as possible, eat everything. I forgot that I have always employed this style for short, well defined periods of time and then scheduled a day to sleep afterwards. I quickly learned that this frantic mode was not sustainable, and once I hit the heat of Phnom Penh I had no choice but to slow down. I'm trying to incorporate this into my daily life. Instead of jumping back into things, I'm taking a slow approach to coming back, only adding activities back in once I feel the need, ignoring any lingering feelings of obligation.

I have been asked why I decided to come back and pick up where I left off. There's no easy answer to that but I'll try to explain a little here. When I was traveling everything was novel. It was exactly what I needed to get me out of the rut I was in back in DC. However, sleeping in a different bed every night, never knowing where I'd be the next day, I eventually came to really crave some stability. The first half of my trip was characterized by movement; a few days in one place at most, then off to the next city, deciding at the bus station where I should go. The second half was characterized by longer stays in one place. About a month in I started feeling a very strong urge to make a mess. Anyone who has ever seen my desk or bedroom knows I am not the image of a neat person; when traveling I kept everything in my backpack out of necessity. One night I was in a small dorm and I was the only person in it that night. I took all my clothes and just spread them all over one of the other beds in the dorm. It seems really stupid looking back on it, but I felt so relieved after tossing my clothes onto that bed.

Coming back, I needed familiarity. I needed to be around people I already knew, transit networks I already knew how to get around. Additionally, while I was gone, I didn't feel any relief in having left DC. When I left Massachusetts almost seven years ago, I never felt a real longing to go back. I don't dislike it and I'm happy to visit, but I was satisfied with what I had learned there and never felt like I had unfinished business. In DC, I still felt I could come back and be happy. Going back would be easy; I already knew where I wanted to live, I still had my job, and I had hobbies that I could hop right back into. While I don't generally advocate for doing something because it is easy and familiar, in this case I believe that it was exactly what I needed at the time I made my decision. I feel confident that if I get sick of DC again I will leave; at that point I will be looking for a new adventure and relocating would fit the bill. At this point, I just want to be in a place with people around whom I feel comfortable enough to make a mess.