Author: admin

Whether you’re anxious, agitated, angry, calm, introspective, productive, happy or grateful, you’re under the influence of the Gunas. The Gunas are three energetic qualities that impact how we interact with the world and our own internal landscapes. There are many subtle body concepts in Yoga on which we can focus and the Gunas are among the most accessible energetic systems on which we rely. They are Rajas, Tamas, and Sattva. The Gunas are present in all that we experience and are present in us prior to our entrance onto this plane. 

Rajas often gets a bad rep as being the quality of aggression or narcissism and it is also the quality of volition, power, dynamism, productivity. It is forward facing and is associated with the front body. It is Rajas that helps us to get out of bed in the morning, accomplish what needs doing and approach that cute person over there who interests us. A Rajasic imbalance though can render us aggressive, overly giving, irritable, selfish.

Tamas also gets maligned as the quality of inertia, lethargy and passivity and it is also it is the seat of what is to be realized. What begins as inert is in a state of becoming. Tamas is associated with the back body. It is Tamas that lets us know that we need to recharge, that energy needs to be stored for a big challenge, or that we’ve become complacent and need inspiration. A Tamasic imbalance can cause us to become depressed, be overcome by fear, and feel profoundly heavy or sad.

Revered is the Sattvic state, a balanced and homeostatic state of pure consciousness. Sattva is neither Rajasic nor Tamasic, but is a state of flow and connection. While Sattva is sought after, an imbalance within any of the gunas is destabilizing, and our ebb and flow between them is natural. None of these qualities can exist without the other and just like happiness and sadness, anger and forgiveness, sweetness and bitterness, cacophony and silence, we cannot know one without knowing the others.

As one might imagine, these are the basics and the descriptions above are meant as a primer to what is possible. 

Preparing to Retreat

Join Primula/Cerebri for a Sattva and Sankalpa weekend in the Catskills January 30-February 2, 2025

AKERA retreat center, Woodbourne, New York

While the idea of the new year is one of human construct, the rotations of the sun and seasons on which our calendars are based are natural constants. Harness the restorative power of winter to prepare for spring’s awakening with this weekend retreat. We will together honor the energetic quality of Sattva or balance and the promise of Sankalpa, structuring personal affirmations for achieving your potential.

What you can expect:

1. Twice daily yoga practices incorporating yoga Nidra, directed slow flow, restorative asana and meditation
2. All meals – 3 plant based breakfasts, 2 plant based lunches, 3 plant based dinners
3. Cozy accommodations 
4. A silent space for contemplation
5. Time and space to explore your own creativity
6. Available massage
7. Focused exploration of yoga’s philosophy surrounding limiting beliefs, the gunas and energy bodies
8. Personal time for reflection or whatever you want
9. A sound healing experience
10. Unlimited access to a two hot tubs and a sauna
11. A beautiful, natural environment to be enjoyed as the weather permits

A pre-registration waitlist is open. Please send me a message to reserve your spot. Early bird pricing and details regarding accommodations will be follow shortly.

Last week I found myself in the emergency room. The details are such that it brought me back to the yoga and putting things in perspective.  My visit to the ER was requested by my doctor who, having heard the symptoms of a slightly swollen and sore lower leg, wanted to be sure that I wasn’t nursing a blood clot. I was pretty sure that a clot wasn’t the problem but she’s nothing if not thorough. I complied. After fulfilling all my professional and personal obligations I dragged myself to the hospital. I knew my visit there would be lengthy and was glad that I had my knitting and plenty of downloaded podcasts.  I arrived at the hospital at 8:00 PM and was quickly triaged and made to know that my situation was not high priority (duh). I was led to a fairly quiet seating area where I was told that as soon as there was room in the ER I would be called in. I sat, listened, knitted, texted until I was called into the ER at 10:00 PM. The contrast between the place I had been waiting and the place I would now be waiting was profound and was made more profound when I was escorted past the room where they tried to resuscitate my father after his brain hemorrhage, oh yay.

Suddenly, I was bathed in bright, unflattering fluorescent light and surrounded by about 100 people all in some form of distress. It was loud, people had fevers, were concussed, getting stitches, working in this controlled mayhem, one guy on a gurney was singing R & B favorites (this was not helpful) and the guy next to me had passed out at dinner which made me think of other horrible events. I felt guilty for being there to ask for care from an already overextended employee population. I’d already been there for two hours though and had promised my doctor. It dawned on me then that I was likely one of the most well people in the room. I wasn’t in pain, I wasn’t sick, I wasn’t working there, I didn’t have a fever, I wasn’t coughing, I wasn’t bleeding, I wasn’t hopelessly inebriated. My leg was a little swollen and sore and I had plenty to occupy me so I sat, watched and waited, breathing and understanding that I was lucky. When eventually seen by a doctor at midnight he was gracious and kind as I told him why I was there and confirmed my own doctor’s desire to rule out a Deep Vein Thrombosis. We decided on a course of action and after a relatively quick and painless blood test it was determined that it was unlikely that I had a DVT. I was released at 1:00 AM.  So, what’s the point? The moral of this unremarkable story is how remarkably calm and centered I felt during my five hours in the ER. I firmly believe that my practice assisted me to view my situation from an empathetic perspective and to understand that this was not a situation that was going to be changed or helped by my engaging in pushy or disruptive behavior. Instead I sat in admiration of all the ER docs, nurses, and administrative helpers who were working their tushies off. I felt the ‘present of presence’ strongly that night. I hope you have opportunities to feel it too.

I continue to have these little aha moments.

Working in corporate Human Resources as a trainer I realized that it didn’t matter how much money you threw at harassment free workplace training, it wasn’t really going to work. Why? It’s kind of like addiction. You have to want help. You have to hit some kind of rock bottom and realize that you have a problem. Until that happens you’re never really going to change. Outwardly you might make it look like you’ve seen the error or your ways but then, when you get home, you consume a quart of vodka.

It’s the same way with serial harassers. You can tell them not to treat another person in a manner that would upset them if the behavior were directed towards a loved one, spouse, parent, child, sibling (which makes perfect sense to me). You can go through exercises and role playing, show them videos that make them cringe and think they’ve learned something. Heck, they may even think they’ve learned something. The next thing you know, you’re in a meeting with them trying to review an employee’s maternity leave and they say, “I don’t understand why she can’t just keep her legs shut anyway.” What, like you’ve never had sex with your wife? How many children do you have? But I digress.

What I’m getting at is that you can pass laws intended to grant people equal access and treatment. Those laws, rules or guidelines however are not going to change the way we think and feel, only the way we  behave, mostly. Laws don’t change mindsets. Laws don’t change the root causes of stereotypes. In many instances opposition to the laws and rules, et al. will intensify any feelings of “otherness” and increase any perceived justification for mistreatment. Basically, any law intended to mitigate racism always holds the possibility of increasing it. Chew on that.

So what do we do? I’m not an expert but I’ve been absorbing as much information as I can. This musing is based on observation, some reading and watching and little else. I truly believe in the value of education, open mindedness, self observation and a willingness to learn. Watch your own behavior. Be aware of the stereotypes that you invoke. Let your friends know when they say or do something offensive. Don’t let a resolution made in the aftermath of another tragedy fall by the wayside. Recognize, respect and embrace everyone’s differences regardless of… anything. Sit with discomfort.

The pecking order of discrimination was again amplified by the Trump administration and that is the topic of another percolating post.

Some of my recent inquiry was conducted with:

My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem

A Promised Land by Barack Obama 

The 13th a film by Ava DuVernay

I tried to stay away from the one year anniversary of our collective sheltering in. I tried not to think about it, to keep the anniversary out of my meditations and classes. I figure no one needs for me to tell them the obvious. I figure most of us know what we were doing a year ago when we were asked to stay home, when “social distancing” went from an unfamiliar to ubiquitous phrase, when home took on a very new meaning.

I’ve found myself pretty down lately. Yes, more down than usual. The first day of spring is right around the corner and so many things just remind me of the whirlwind year we’ve had. There’s been so much senseless death and suffering from obvious and less obvious sources. We’ve lived through a contentious and eventually exuberant Presidential election which brought about a complete 180° shift in governmental messaging. I’ve struggled with not thinking those who think differently than I obtuse. I watched as those I consider to be obtuse and dangerous stormed the Capital in protest of what, I have no idea. There has been so much hate and vitriol and fireworks and when you think it can’t get any worse another angry doofus with a gun who can’t get laid thinks that opening fire on a bunch of strangers will solve all his problems.

And it’s March. Again… Maybe I didn’t try hard enough.

Then I notice the palpable feeling of the air against my hand as it sweeps to the floor after extended time in trikonasana and I’m entranced.

I know that I’ve been lucky. I saw friends and celebrated milestones during the warm months of 2020. I made new friends studying and practicing in our virtual spaces. I continued to teach and share yoga and learn from some of the most gracious individuals. I marveled at my family and our ability to support one another as we struggled. I have a job. My partner has continued to work. My son went to college. Members of my family stricken with COVID are recovering. The fact that there are others for whom the past year has been exponentially more difficult is not lost on me.

I’m still sad though and I’m going to have to be ok with that for a while. A friend who posted on social media that she finds herself crying at the mundane wanted to know if she was alone. I let her know that our collective trauma is profound. Recovery will be hard for everyone as we hopefully round the corner towards a healthier, kinder future.

In the meantime I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.

Like many people I have a collection or two. As a child I collected lots of things, stuffed animals, magic markers, rocks, the usual fare. Most of these collections lost their luster over time and I am now at a point where I try to bring fewer things I can’t  consume or use into my life and home, not more. Enter the conch shell.

I don’t know when I saw the first one that captured my attention. I’m pretty sure though that I was a full fledged adult. All the examples I found on the beaches of Long Island were broken revealing their perfect spiral interiors. Then one day I found one that was intact. It was so beautiful and I added it to my collection. I think one of the aspects of the conch interiors that attracted me is that they remind me so much of people. Our outward appearances have so very little to do with our inner landscapes, biologically, emotionally, spiritually. The same could be said of the inside of hand knits and so many other items.

Recently, while engaging in the blissful activity of daydreaming I realized that these shells represent another metaphor for the human condition. Granted, many things fill that position. These metaphors fuel our imagination and help us to make sense out of an existence that often needs explaining. 

Looking at my collection I realized that my shells were all broken, as we mostly are in one way or another. I noticed that they were all broken in different ways, as we mostly are in one way or another. I noticed that I had one that was whole. Was this the control group? No matter, even my whole one has flaws, whatever that means if you’re looking at shells or people.

Pondering my shells, I thought about my practice and teaching and whether or not Yoga has the potential to help us see our pieces differently. Can we through breath, physical practice, mantra and awareness acknowledge and accept our flaws in all their beauty? Can we have fun doing it? The practice holds this power and more. Feel free to explore and always be curious.