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.

Oxygen is for the Weak

Among the many reasons that I decided to take off and travel was my need to find something that truly makes me happy. I was having trouble finding that in DC. I also found myself too focused on what is happening next in my life; great when I started travelling and needed to plan ahead, not so much fun when the return flight is in sight. After a trip to Malaysia that inspired me to make my new year's resolution to swear more, Phuket was a welcome change. I spent the first week scuba diving; it was amazing. Great visibility, gorgeous dive sites, and great people. I loved being in the water, but something still didn't feel quite right.
I found We Freedive on trip advisor after a quick internet search for freediving schools; the course dates worked with my travel schedule so I decided to sign up for the AIDA two star course. The course was several theory sessions, pool sessions, and open water sessions spread out over three days taught by the owners Richard Wonka and Sarah Whitcher. I've heard from other travelers that other freedive schools do much less theory in their courses. I'm glad we covered as much as we did; I am generally quite open to doing new things but I like to have some background knowledge first. Having some scientific knowledge of the physiology of freediving definitely made me more comfortable once we got in the water.
The first lessons came when we first hopped in the pool to do statics. This is when you simply hold your breath for as long as possible with your face submerged. Sounds easy, right? Despite knowing intellectually that you can keep holding your breath well past the urge to breathe, it is very difficult to actually put this into practice. I relaxed as much as possible and released my snorkel. This was strictly a mind game. It is difficult enough for me to just focus on the present when I am breathing regularly; maintaining this focus while acknowledging and ignoring the urge to breathe was one of the most difficult things I have done in a long time. I have always struggled with what many of my yoga friends call "monkey mind." It has caused me many sleepless nights, agonizingly long meditation sessions, and general anxiety. The whole process of doing a static - the breathe up, the dive, recovery - forced me to stop the flurry of thoughts in a way that nothing else has been able. It was in the pool that I first began to experience taking control of my body and not simply bending to its every whim.
We also spent two days in the open water. The first day was very difficult for me. I kept straining my neck to look forward, towards my goal. This arched my back and put my body in an inefficient position. Richard kept telling us to just enjoy the present and focus on exactly where we are at each moment of the dive. Again, much easier said than done.
The next day I was finally able to relax, keeping my gaze forwards, and the dives felt so much easier. Additionally, once I stopped struggling to bring myself up to the surface and relax, allowing my buoyancy to do the work for me, I really started to enjoy myself. Despite hitting depths near my maximum scuba depths, it was relaxing and joyful in a way that I had never experienced before.
These two lessons from the open water sessions, to stay focused on exactly where you are right now and to stop struggling and relax, were the two things I have been searching for. That is what drove me to Asia and into Richard and Sarah's school. The discovery of a way to experience this mindfulness has not been placed with equal significance among my other travel stories. This is one that has made me rethink plans that I thought I could live with and potentially take my life in a new direction that I had never even considered just a few weeks ago.
While this whole trip has been fun and enlightening, in retrospect, those three days in Phuket were the break through that I had been working for. If you are ever in the area, I would recommend without hesitation to spend a few days training with Sarah and Richard. You'll be mentally challenged in ways that you've probably never been challenged before. 

If You Can Dodge Traffic You Can Dodge a Ball

If Patches O'Houlihan is to believed, ESPN8 "the ocho" ought to start filming dodgeball games in Southeast Asia. No crosswalks, no traffic lights or signs, and sidewalks that exist solely for parking; as of this writing, I have not seen an accident or near miss. The difference seems to come from a recognition by drivers that the road is not personal property. It is a space shared by cars, motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, vendors, and animals. My observation is that the maximum speed for any given vehicle on a stretch of road is much lower than what an American driver would hit; the difference between the minimum and maximum speeds for the American would be much larger. Drivers here don't stop but they seem to be aware of their surroundings so it is safe for a pedestrian to cross eight lanes of traffic while no driver is inconvenienced. Traffic moves much more fluidly.  There are many motorbikes on the roads and they are able to dodge pedestrians much more effectively than cars and trucks.  It seems to terrify most of the people that I have tried to cross the road with, but I am continually amazed at just how fluid it is.

Although I can handle the traffic, it does make it much more difficult for those who are not as agile.  Near my hostel in Chiang Mai there was one pedestrian light.  You had to call it yourself and it would give you a 15 second red light to cross four lanes of one way traffic.  Usually, once the drivers didn't see anyone else crossing the street, they continued on, regardless of the light.  One night I saw a three legged dog trying to cross the road.  The curbs are over a foot high and there is no shoulder on the road so it was difficult for him to cross one lane at a time which is what I often did.  Instead, he patiently sat by the crossing button until someone came along and pressed it, allowing him to cross.  Although it took him longer than the allotted fifteen seconds to cross, drivers still waited for him.

Being in Singapore for the last few days has made me realize just how much I missed orderly traffic.  As much as I got used to dealing with dodging traffic, it is so much less stressful when you are reasonably certain that someone won't run a red light and kill you.

Thanksgiving, Cambodian Style

I'm one of the few Americans who does not particularly enjoy Thanksgiving. I find it stressful, I'm not a huge fan of traditional Thanksgiving foods, and it is placed so close to both Veterans Day and Christmas on the calendar that I think it would be more useful in March or August when you've been in long period of no days off.

I haven't met many Americans so far in Cambodia so I didn't find anyone who was longing for a Thanksgiving. This is the third time in the past four years that I have spent the holiday on my own so I wasn't too upset because I didn't have my turkey.

S-21

I arrived in Phnom Penh on Tuesday. On Wednesday I went to the museum at the site of the former S-21 prison of the Khmer Rouge. The site was a school that had been repurposed as a prison and you could still see how it looked like a school. The buildings still were set up as classrooms, except for lines set apart every few feet, indicating where a cell wall had been located; one of the buildings still had the cells intact. The playground equipment was still in the yard. Only later is it revealed that the equipment had been utilized as instruments of torture. The area is full of flowers and palm trees; the complex is still surrounded by double metal walls and barbed wire. The museum was emotionally draining and I went back and had a pretty low key evening.

Excavated graves

Memorial stupa

The next morning I rented a bike and rode an hour through Cambodian traffic to the Killing Fields at Cheung Ek.  I was shocked at just how small the complex is. The prisoner drop off, detention center, and office were all within ten meters of each other. No buildings were left after the war so the complex is just fields, along with a memorial near the entrance. As I looked out, the fields are marked with depressions in the earth. It looked a little strange at first but I later learned that these were the sites of graves not massive enough to designate with extra signs. I spent a few hours taking in the area and learning about the Khmer Rouge. At the entrance (and the end of the tour) is a memorial.
This stupa is filled with bones so high that it was impossible to stand in it and see what was in the levels near the top; a photograph could only capture maybe a quarter of it in any given shot.

I had an hour ride back to Phnom Penh in the early afternoon heat to contemplate everything I had learned in the past 24 hours. This genocide is so recent that I have met Cambodians who are not too old and remember relatives fleeing the country. I have never been one to take account of what I have; this is the first Thanksgiving where I felt compelled to think through what I take for granted in my daily life. This trip as a whole has made me much more aware of what I have come to assume is normal but is actually a sign of privilege. However, spending Thanksgiving seeing the mechanisms of genocide first hand was by far the most thankful that I have ever felt for all that I take for granted in my life.

Scuba weekend

The only hard dates that I had for this trip was 9-23 Dec I had a massage course in Chiang Mai. I had almost three weeks from when I left Bangkok until the start of the course so my original plan was to spend a few days in Phnom Penh, another few days in Siem Reap (near Angkor) then the rest of the time in Laos. It always seems like there is so much time when you write plans down.

After spending a depressing few days in Phnom Penh and realizing that I had no beach plans until Christmas, I decided to pull out my scuba referral from last winter and finally get my open water certification. A dive shop in Sihanoukville, Scuba Nation, had an overnight trip that worked perfectly with my schedule and they were very accomodating of my last minute plan to get certified. So, Saturday morning I hopped on a bus and a few hours later I was in a pool. A few hours at the dive shop doing drills, written work, and talking to the instructor and I was cleared to go on the boat the next morning.

The boat ride out was a little rough but I was fine at first. Almost everyone else was feeling a little sick so they skipped breakfast, leaving only a few of us to eat it. I should have remembered how pineapple makes me sick. It is one of my favorite foods but it makes me sick every time I eat it. So, after eating at least two thirds of a pineapple in pretty rough water, I decided I needed to lay down. Of course, I had been applying sunscreen but every place to lay down on the boat was sunny so I laid with my back to the sun. I think you can figure out how this story ends. I hadn't been sick my entire trip but the combination of pineapple, rough sea, and sunburn proved more than my stomach could handle.

Soon we arrived at the dive site. One other diver was also doing his open water dives so we were paired up. Actually being in the ocean was so different from being in the pool. The water was warm and we had over 20m visibility. We did a few drills at the beginning of each dive, then floated along for the next 45 minutes or so, doing two dives each day.

Aside from the burn (which seemed to bother everyone else more than me at the time) the trip was exactly what I needed: time to sit in the sun, float around in the water, and let my brain be overwhelmed by something crazy, such as breathing underwater.