Beltane Blessings to you and yours,

This month of May is a very special time. The blossoming of spring pulls us into great reverence for the cyclical, and very beautiful, nature of things. In the Tantric tradition we are asked to step into participation. To really contemplate and turn inward and to use our voices, our bodies, our gifts and our practices to further the evolution of connection and mindfulness on this earth. One of my best friends and arguably my biggest influence, Sianna Sherman, has created "The Manifesto Movement of May," where we are invited to use our voices to speak our truths. The following is my manifesto, my deepest wellspring of inspiration and remembrence. I invite you to create yours, to share it, to speak it, to make it so... and to join the Movement.

I believe in worlds we cannot see. 

The domains of spirit; where truth of heart reigns over landscapes of sunlight and ebony. I believe in deep primal creativity, imagination and wonder that move without agenda into forms of individuality, beauty and art. I believe in the power of matrika - of words, the potency of truth, the guru of introspection, and the yoga of understanding. I believe in world traditions that whisper empowerment and scream participation. I believe in the power to choose which is the power to create, not as victim, but as warrior.

I believe in worlds we can see. 

In the lessons of the seasons, the alchemy of elements, the geometries of plants and the all majesty of the natural world. I believe in my loved ones and in all the ways they show up. I believe in the potency of connection, the guru of community and the yoga of relationship. I believe in good food, great practices and grand adventure. 

I believe that radical engagement with both the seen and unseen brings the human story back to meaningfulness. More than anything, I believe in that.

Underneath the chaotic complexity and frenetic energy of Bali, where the swarm of humans, motorbikes, and insects crowd and buzz alike; beneath the strong smells so unique to Indonesia of burning trash, heavy exhaust, incense, frangipani and wet earth, there is a sweet simplicity that will take you in with open arms, and leave you days, months later, for the better. What belies Bali is a devotion so ignited you could call it wholehearted creativity and get away with it. A true island of Bhakti Yogis, where designation of the sacred informs all you see and do. This call towards the reverence of simplicity is, at its essence, life beckoning you back to meaningfulness.

photo by Cadencia Photography

Every morning since I've been here I've watched small, regal, Balinese women placing hand-made altars of palm leaves, rice, flowers and incense in every threshold and doorway. Their prayers moving out into the world soft on their lips. The brilliant lace of their Kabayas contrasting impossibly smooth, dark skin as they perform abisheka, the ritual blessing of water tossed from flower petals to wet the feet of their deities. One of my teachers once said, blind faith is dogma. But participating with both the seen and unseen is to never forget the mystery and the magic of this world. The difference is engagement. Bali beckons you back into the real pith of your own active and alive conversation with the world. Whether you ask it to or not, it invites you to the artistic creation of practices and rituals that feed more than your physical body, that teach you the way out of fear and forgetfulness. Not empty action, but reverence for, and the practices of ignited, authentic creativity, which is all the world wants of us anyway. Simple.

A few months ago I found myself in the midst of an interview with the assistant editor of Yoga Journal for the May edition on creativity. I lay splayed out and exhausted in the best way after a morning of teaching at a woman's retreat on the Big Island of Hawaii. I will never forget that conversation, and that languid afternoon, for it inspired a new level of understanding that continues to reverberate on the constant. A simple inquiry into my creative process sparked months of contemplation and I find myself repeating the words of John O'Donahue who once said: we are all meant to be creators, as japa mantra. Over and over and over.

The Tantric tradition teaches us first about empowerment. Not some overt supernatural power that allows you to manipulate and control outer circumstances, but the power to make choices that best support your path, or rather, that best allow you to create, as in creatively, mold and shape your world. When your creative process is allowed to take grander form than long walks on the beach, journaling and bath-time (a few of my favorites) and instead take shape as the very foundation of your life, where all things are acknowledged as product of choice - from the quality of your relationships, to the organization of your desk, and yes, of course, to the watercolor painting hanging above it, then what starts to arise is a simple and often unbidden recognition of essence nature. The move towards primal creativity, free of judgement and from the heart.

A few things happen in that moment. One, you can no longer find it in you to call yourself a victim as you step into active participation, and two, the sacred starts to include a much larger space in your field of view. You may, perhaps, decide to honor it more often. Douglas Brooks, teaches that;rituals tell us a mythic narrative. The power of myths is that they allow us to wonder. They raise essential questions that can never really be answered. Why am I here? What do I stand for? What is most important to me? Questions that bring to light the "whys" of meaningfulness.

What brought me to Bali this year was an event called Sacred Circularities held annually each year in Ubud fast on the heels of Bali Spirit Festival. As one of my co-teachers put it, SC is the "crown jewel of hoopdance gatherings", not only for it's other-wordly location set out amongst the rice fields, but for it's manifested and richly articulated vision. Sacred Circularities takes the often quiet underpinnings of hoopdance to a larger contextual level and brings the sacred into, and out of, the circle, crafting an experience for participants to go deep within themselves in creative play and simultaneously offers a safe container for free expression. Theta healing, Tantric discourse and mythology, Clarity breath work, meditation, ecstatic dance, temple visits and Vedic fire pujas are just a few of the offerings inter-weaving and supporting the trick and technique of all-levels hoopdance play. The brilliance of SC is that for many of us - indeed, most of us, hoopdance has so successfully laid siege to our hearts because it is more than play - it's introduction has been a catalyst to deeper conversation and inquiry. It is our embodied ritual. Our creative practice. Our challenge and our ceremony both.

photo by Cadencia Photography

The last day of the event I woke at dawn to the gentle sweep of a broom on concrete (nearly a ritual in itself here in Bali), and to the calls of the men in the rice fields, fighting their perpetual battle with the birds as the sun caste it's golden flares across fields of staggering green. Around my wrist I wore a thread of black, red and white tied in remembrance of the fire ceremony from the night before, where we chanted mantra and offered all the best and worst parts of us into the fire of transformation. Indeed I felt new - so alive with creative inspiration, not solely as a result of the puja, but from the accumulative week of collective ceremony, creativity, celebration and connection. The uninhibited inner illumination that is mistress of safe discovery. As I walked though the rice paddies towards the wantalon where I was to lead the morning yoga, I saw the event for what it was - necessarily a microcosmic reflection of the teeming, transformational and very beguiling island it's held on.

In Western societies we have lost much by way of ceremony, myth and ritual. These practices by their very nature, are a call to participate in the unfolding creativity of life. Bali reverberates with it. Day in and day out, the Balinese designate sacred space, they celebrate their families, they are quick to trust and to smile and invite you in. Community - be it composed of ex-pats, transients, travelers, or locals, happens as if by accident. The container that is cast in ritual holds the parameter to honor and challenge what's within. Authentic creativity flourishes as a result.

In Bali I found myself deep in the folds of another's world of meaning, where every act was a reminder, again and again, of my own. I can't help but believe that the true warriors of this world are lighting the way to unseen and very personal solutions to common problems. Solutions that whisper empowerment. That ask us to step into the central conversation of our lives where meaningfulness comes first. Who are you? Why are you here? What do you stand for? Unbounded creativity, a primal calling to create our worlds with heart is the fallout, and what creation was made in the authenticity of our own unique and silent conversations, becomes our ritual. That simple, repetitive act of devotion that feeds our souls, that creates beauty, and brings the richness of our lives to new fervored, fulfilling heights.

Greetings Great Friends,

In San Francisco when the rains come they come steady. A drizzly wet dampness that shrouds the city in hues of grey and silver and sends you indoors, huddled close to a space heater on a lamb's wool rug to contemplate. Well - that's me at least. The subject of my mental wanderings lately has revolved around creativity. Specifically on the where that word is most often applied and how even the smallest semantic distinction can turn an ally into a limitation, a wild freedom into a soggy box. 

There is a lot of rapid change happening in the world right now. Much of that change is centered around the re-organization, or even dissolution of, what we have considered to be 'conventional business structure' up until this point. We see this in big business as companies struggle to restructure in an effort to stay relevant as people like you and me place themselves on Wall street to have a say. We see this happening in the yoga world and the dance world too as newer companies are coming up against the demands of the people for 'open source' information, as they battle ethical questions of trademarking and copy righting ideas, processes and ways of speaking. In most cases what I see is the careful tread of an already worn and crumbling road.It is said the age of participation is here, but I'd argue that what we need now is a new way of thinking about ourselves as creative beings. A lesson in our own unique, necessary, and innate creativity that will design and empower the new instead of following the old.

John O'Donohue says; "we are all meant to be creators. Creativity is always happening." Not just to the fine artist or the wacky person in thick-rimmed glasses down the hall. I believe there is no such thing as a “creative person”, only one who is uninhibited in their expression, only one who has had the good grace to be empowered - whether from the outside in, or inside out, to validate their unusual, and often socially challenged thoughts and ideas.

On the stands right now is the new Yoga Journal, the issue on 'Creativity'. I was asked when interviewed for it, 'what is your creative process?' Process? Far more interesting to me than process is permission. I give myself permission to express spontaneously and freely without judgment. I remove the label and recycle the box. As the world shifts and sighs and moves slowly towards restructuring, my project is to apply the same degree of creativity that I would use to choreograph a dance piece to the running of my business, the dynamics of my relationships, the routinization of my day. This is my challenge for you too.

As the fog clears and spring comes around again, fresh, new, without restraint, may we pull from Nature's abundance a great permission for our lives, our dance, our practice. May we toss out the categorization of our creativity and delight in the freedom. And may we stay at the frontier of this conversation with reverence for the discoveries along the way.

Springtime blessings to you and yours, let us celebrate the new,

xo Shakti
 

"It’s not the strongest that survive, but the ones who embrace change." - Darwin

Dusk fell over Santa Teresa. The huge glowing red orb of the sun dipped low on the horizon, finally exhausting it’s relentless heat in great offering to the warm waters of the Pacific. All the little critters in the trees began their dark day, scuttling across the canopy with clicks and pops and coos. The hermit crabs picked up their unique and varied homes and left little pathways like tic marks, great crustacean intersections in their wake. I had been in Costa Rica now for nearly one month and as I bent low to the ground slapping mosquitos and smiling wryly at the fuel canister (not ideal) I thanked my foresight to bring along a few Synergy colored polypros and a handful of Quick Wicks. You just never know when the pull to dance in firelight will hit. 

I had traveled through Panama teaching a retreat with Hoop Connections - yoga, pilates and hoopdance in the cool(er) mountain air of Boquete. Sixteen beautiful souls from all parts of the world with at least 2 things in common - the travel bug, and the hula hoop - shared full days and laughter-filled nights - and a whole lot of drooling over the new polypro hoops. The last morning together we said our goodbyes over Desayuno Típico (beans, rice, patacones and eggs) and myself and Tammy Firefly (Luciernaga in spanish) prayed to the patron saint (when in rome) of travel and jumped on a local bus bound for the border of Costa Rica. Two days later and a satisfying series of adventures left me soaking wet from the waters of the Golfo Dulce on the pier in Puerto Jimenez on the Osa Pennisula. It was later that week at the Iguana Lodge that I first thanked the Stars for carrying fire gear in tow. An impromptu fire show began during the owner’s weekly barbecue on the beach that afforded me and my partner free drinks all night,  and despite the harry debacle that fire spinning on sand brings in, the Quick Wicks held up beautifully - on and off before my Piña Colada was done.

Next up, Envision Festival. 4 days and 4 nights of non-stop performance with the rest of the displaced - yet somehow fitting - West coast tribal scene. By this time I was a pro at sliding on and off each wick, choosing (because I could) to match my fire gear with my outfit - hey, it’s the little things. The UV glow of the hot pink polypro was perfect for my stage show during another epic Random Rab sunrise, reflecting electric in the humid pre-dawn sky.

I shook, rattled and prayed my way up the Costa Rica coastline on two of the most terrifying flights of my life in “windy condition” as the pilot explained in broken, heavily accented English. Oh boy... landing finally to kiss the earth in Nosara on the Nicoya Pennisula to assist a week long Yoga retreat with Sianna Sherman, Amy Ippoliti and Douglas Brooks. Here’s a shot from the last night together - what bonfire could be complete without a little show?
 

And now, finally, as the sun sets low over Santa Teresa, I stand in front of another group of yogis and yoginis. MC Yogi announces me - “Sunday, is the day of the Sun, he says, “Sunfire”. I find myself feeling particularly tuned in to all that surrounds me - particularly grateful for these experiences. I cue the bartender to cut the music, and find myself asking the audience to come close, to feel the heat pass them, to listen to the song of the flames as they move to dance with the air. Woosh woosh woosh, they say, and I smile...

www.wanderlustfestival.com

What recourse is there for one 

so burdened?

Consumed,

burning,

this blazing flame

will birth 

or die. 

Or both.

What part of you cries out in the purple

haze of night?

Where secrets revealed pass no pardon

on your part.

They do not

ease your creative load

but beg it, beckoning 

from dark depths 

to earth.

Oh. 

I see.

You stand aside and 

watch

the slippery wraith-like 

dance of that 

which holds you.

Is it true?

You move 

through the Gift, 

eyes glazed, 

possessed 

by the fear that so stubbornly 

stands?

What a mess! 

Fear! 

To think 

for even 

one breath, 

one stroke of sight, 

one heartbeat, 

one step,

that fear... is master?!

And yet we do. 

We do roll over. 

Stillbirth 

our dreams 

and call it 

a comfortable life.

The edge, 

weakened and crumbling, 

that razor of high wind and weather, 

of all of you 

- every bit - 

brought to the light. 

No...

“that is fear’s domain”, we say and turn away.

And still yet 

like a seed 

beneath charred earth 

there is 

a deeper a voice 

that will not silence, 

that will not hail, 

that trembles with the power of forget-less-ness.

A piece that, once found, 

ignites the heart, 

transmutes the fear, 

and bellows:

“YOU ARE HERE TO 

SHED THE SHELL

AND 

LIVE THE GIFT OF YOU.”

Have heart.

Have heart.

Have heart.

Greater than fear, 

and far more powerful awaits 

the inward turn of your gaze. 

Like water to the seed 

your participation``

is crucial.

Begin unfolding 

spirals and whorls, 

layer by layer, 

exposed.

And in their naked beauty, 

pain. 

For as it is said it is not our inadequacy we most fear but our power.

Reconcile the imbalance, 

let fear

cry folly

when you say, ‘make way!’

Conceive again. 

And let your struggle 

be not timid, 

but ecstatically, 

painfully, 

loudly 

full. 

Like a mother 

about to bring her every joy 

into the world, 

bursting under the strain of new,

so too...you.

But that alone is it. 

What recourse?

It is called

fulfillment.

It is called

freedom.

It is called

a full life.

The world needs you, all of you. 

NOW.

-Shakti Sunfire

11/13/11 Nevada City

Friday night in San Francisco. The sleepy city stirs and groans under the weight of cars lining the Bay Bridge, nudging their way through the malaise towards their destination. This city, a mecca for the creative, the free-thinking, and the fantastic hosts any number of interesting and colorful events each weekend – ranging from the raunchy to the refined. The more time I spend here the more I learn not to take unobtrusive and indistinct doorways and building facades at face value. Whole worlds exist within.

Such was certainly the case last weekend in the Mission. About 100 of us entered a building whose only demarkation was the large black garage door with the words ‘no estacionar’ printed on them in bold white block letters. But the moment my foot touched past the threshold I entered an ambiance of pure delight. A hallway lined with flower petals, candles and artwork beckoned guests (shoes off) past a registration table where you were welcomed by beautifully, and tastefully adorned greeters. Down the hallway and to the right the sound of laughter and reunion, the sound of sweet community drifted at varying levels of volume over the music. A modern kitchen bustled with professionals in heels and ruffled aprons, slick black slacks and polished shoes, as they set out artfully displayed cucumber water, orange slices and chocolate squares. To the right was the main room. A massive white-walled space with high ceilings displayed three-dimensional pieces of sacred art called yantras. A central altar drew the eye to vases of peacock feathers, flower arrangements and glowing tea lights. A duo of musicians checked over their instruments, an audiovisual team adjusted microphones and tweaked huge projection screens depicting vibrant imagery, and the crowd began to arrange themselves, settling down over time onto their….yoga mats.

The event was Vimala Maha, A Tantric Festival of Pure Delight, and yoga asana, as surprising as it may seem given the setup, was only one of many offerings and experiences set to take place throughout the night into the morning. Others included fine cuisine and tea service, a satsang or spiritual talk and practice, vocal and musical performances, fine art exhibits, airbrushing, poetry and a dj dance party to top it off. And the revival of original Tantric culture as it existed a thousand years ago in Kashmir, among other places, was the thread that wove through it all.

The word ‘Tantra’ in this lineage does not infer intimacy games or couples eye gazing. Christopher ‘Hareesh’ Wallis, founder of the Matamayura Institute and creator of the event, describes Vimala Maha as ‘a revival of Tantric culture that is connected to the original tradition. It’s not a re-imagining or a creative take on Tantra, but a true renaissance of a tradition that almost died out – a tradition that is uniquely relevant to people today.’

Hareesh and his colleagues number themselves among the few scholars in the world that read and translate the original Sanskrit sources. He describes non-dual Tantra as ‘a coherent system of spiritual practices aimed at addressing every level of our being. What we’ve been presenting in workshops is Tantric philosophy and mediation practices but there are aesthetic aspects of the tradition – poetry, music and art that are just as prevalent. What Vimala Maha is aimed to is is to actually reach and extend what Tantra entails into the realms that it originally occupied.

And indeed to attend a yoga class by the masterful Sianna Sherman who guides you into your body like moving art, to listen to a delicate composition of music, to let a piece of chocolate melt on your tongue and become absorbed in the flavor, to connect and share stories with a friend in your community, to sip fine tea poured by Om Shan Tea, to become absorbed in the living teachings in satsang with Hareesh, is to experience the unfolding of your deeper self. To bring holistic non-judgmental awareness to moment to moment experiences is Tantra.

In the western world that tends toward the puritanical separation of celebration and spiritual practices, Vimala Maha invites you to step into life as yoga – all of it. As Hareesh said, ‘then deeply connected wisdom becomes the place you ordinarily hang out.’

I left Vimala Maha past midnight. The bars in the city were full, the late-night crepe stand lines just starting to form. I walked three blocks to my car. Past one door, then another. Each one an invitation. Each step an opportunity. Each moment a delightful unfolding.

Photography by Mario Covic

For more information on Tantra and Hareesh Wallis check out Hareesh.org

Vimala Maha is scheduled to be a regular event. The next one will take place early in the New Year.

“All things seen depend upon what is not seen. All sounds depend upon silence,” says the great teacherAdyashanti in a poem I read a few a weeks ago. The words hit me like rainwater on cracked, dry desert earth. Each drop absorbed hungrily, greedily and with desperation. The impact sent debris flying, creating imprints of reconciliation to the midline like sunbursts, like splotches of paint on a white wall. The contrast stark and curious.

It is only within the full expanse of the paradox can you see the place of balance.

In this case the inquiry has been an exploration of truth. The inner individual truth, and the greater universal truth. As a yogi, it is the synergy of the two that I’m interested in. As a human dedicated to the path of relationship it is more specifically the expression of said truth not on the inside, not in a journal, not shrouded in soft, palatable, potentially passive-aggressive drapery, but out loud, through the vehicle of the voice.

Judith Lasater in her co-authored book with her husband Ike entitled “What We Say Matters,” writes“what you say will change the world.” Speech, like dance, like art, like movement, is the outer expression of our inner landscape. Unlike the myriad of other forms of communication, our speech is the interface with which we often engage interpersonally with partners, with family members, with colleagues, with and as, teachers, poets and mystics. Our words can be both extremely dangerous and completely uplifting in their effect.

As the authors, editors and publishers of our vocal world we hold the power to choose though oftentimes we forget. Hopelessly stuck on repeat, stories, pains, and old wounds deeply embedded in our psyche fly with reckless abandon to any willing ear. Or perhaps more subtle; cultural and ancestral programming mask the true nature of our need to express. Insecurities, guilt and chronic disharmony with our inner world confuse our delivery, perpetuate misunderstanding and disguise our real needs. We feel alienated, unheard, and alone.

Most of us are not taught to be an empowered and clear speaker. I know I was not. Raised in a world where oftentimes the loudest and quickest person in the room gets the boon, we unknowingly widen the rift between what is said and what is truly meant or felt as we grow older. We forget how to listen and trust our inner guru. We essentially give away our greatest power, succumbing to the whim and fancy of external circumstance.

I am reminded of David Whyte. He says; “We are the only corner of creation that can refuse to be itself.” Think of all the times both historically and in the present where you have spoken an untruth at fear of hurting someone else. Where you may have set a shaky, permeable boundary because you didn’t feel worthy of a strong one. Where you said something you didn’t mean at all in an effort to manipulate or change a situation to serve your needs…

These last few months for me have been wrought with ‘adult conversations’. Where finally the truth of my heart overpowers my fear to speak it. Where compassion, in certain situations, has called for sharp clarity over soft communication.  Where I am learning how to say NO for the first time in my life – where I am learning to stand tall instead of roll over. All of these discoveries have served not for the dissolution of connection in relationship, but for their salvation.

photo by Mario Covic

A few weeks ago at Wanderlust Tahoe, the Tantrik scholar Christopher Tompkins defined the ‘yoga’ (often defined as yoking or union) as ‘attunement’. The tuning of the individual with the universal where we first take a moment to find the frequency within, the great flow of life force energy or Shaki that takes her seat in the Truth of the heart.

Here at Kripalu on the east coast I am sitting with Bill Mahony, author of Exquisite Love. He said, deeper than the surface lies an unparalleled yearning for love. This love, the highest love, is unconditional love (pg. 188), and the truth will always serve the highest. The foundation for our offerings and contributions in this world – as teachers and as students – is the practice of yoga.  Go into the power of your inner silence and listen. Let your words, when it is time to speak them, be an extension of your heart.

What we see is not the most important.

Could dust rise without the invisible hand of the wind?

Could a fan turn without any current?

Could lungs breath with breath?

Tell me,

what is the shape of love?

How much does joy weigh

when held in the palm of your hand?

Can you catch the spirit of Life in a jar?

All things seen depend upon the Unseen.

All sounds depend upon silence.

All things felt depend upon what is not felt.

-Adyashanti

Anusara Yoga Teacher Training with Sianna Sherman.

“Life is a creative, intimate and unpredictable conversation if it is nothing else, spoken or unspoken, and our life and our work are both the result of the particular way we hold that passionate conversation. It is a form a self-knowledge; understood as a result, an outcome, a bounty that came from paying close attention to an astonishing world and the way each of us is made differently and uniquely for that world.” – David Whyte

A long time ago I sat underneath a black canopy emblazoned with thousands and thousands of tiny pinpricks of light. My legs tucked up underneath a blanket that smelled like the stale closet I slipped it from. My fingers were sticky with sap from the tree I brushed groping for a hand-hold in the inky darkness as I made my way in secret communion. In my pocket I carried a small flashlight and a little book I bought at the visitors center called; “Stars. A Guide to the Night Skies.” Opening it, unfolding the center map, I worked with the determined concentration of a child who knows, like children intuitively can, the utmost importance of the moment.

That was the day I announced out-loud what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Astronomer.

Astronomer and all it’s imagined romanticisms. Just me and God, working together. I can still call forth the blood-quickening sensation that brought me out in the middle of the night while my family slept. My life – then teeming with possibility, yet innocent to the harsh realities of the world, began unfurling in front of me – asking, calling, inviting me to step into the conversation. Then, as now, welcoming me into the depths of self-inquiry.

But some years later I abandoned the dream of Laura the astronomer as it’s mystery dissolved into algebraic calculations and scientific terminology, machines and line graphs. It wasn’t what I had hoped it was.  Under stars whose light traveled inconceivable distances to participate in the grand artistry of that particular impression on my young mind, I molded the sense of wonder and awe into an imagined adult role that didn’t exist as I thought. How delightful it would be, I mused, to becomethat feeling? To work within it. To glide on the wings of the profound, the sacred, the mighty…

In the face of the difficult realities of early adulthood, wrought with fear-based decision making and aborted childhood fantasy, a deeper part of my being, my core essence, shouted foul play. The still, small voice drowned out by real-life demands.

At the root of our society today is a cowboy ethic that tells us we will be loved based on our unparalleled ability to know and to do on our own. That rugged individualistic impulse that this country was founded on in all its glory and all its heartache asks us to push vulnerability aside and barrel forward with the ignorance – the ignor – ance – of all the dikshas and doorways, all the thresholds that beckon in whispers, look at me, wake up to me….their sacred essence lost in the race.

But there comes a time for most of us where surrendering to the greater flow of your life is no longer a choice we can ignore. That little voice inside begs for reconciliation of the whole, and you realize that you need help easing into the essential waters of your soul – the bank of the river is just a little too steep, and somehow, somewhere along the way, you got turned around.

David Whyte says in Crossing the Unknown Sea;

“You only have to touch the elemental waters in your own life, and it will transform everything. But you have to let yourself down into those waters from the ground on which you stand, and that can be hard. Particularly if you think you might drown.”

Fresh from the initiatory weekend of John Friend’s Dancing with the Divine tour here in San Francisco, and after my first month apprenticing with the masterful, radiant Sianna Sherman, I further realized that Anusara Yoga is like that for me. A coming home to elemental waters, nourishing and challenging both and no matter my doubts nor the conditions of the slope, the threshold beckons too loudly to ignore.

photo by Mario Covic

And so it is with no small amount of palm-dampening fear, inner pomp and circumstance and a whole heap of self doubt that I step forward on my path as yogini in-the-world to initiate (again) and hone the skills I will need to speak, to work, to express, to discover, to be, my truth. Anusara yoga teacher training with Sianna begins this April and I bow to this primordial calling that terrifies me – necessarily because it is so dear to my heart.

Sianna said once that if we even have one minute of shining as who we are, as a bright star of humanity, it changes us forever.

I will not be the first to say that she is a potent, masterful and very poetic teacher of yoga who gathers seekers of the truth and devotees of the heart into her loom and weaves us brighter, stronger, and more clear because of it. Just being in her presence I, like so many others, feel seen – all parts exposed and celebrated – and indeed one of the first things she taught me, albeit unknown to her, was that it is always more beautiful to be entirely, unapologetically, and brilliantly yourself. For me, I’ve realized, that flowing forth of Self, is the real pith of my terror. A deep, semi-conscious question in finding my own voice as a teacher… “what if who I am isn’t good enough, isn’t real enough, isn’t sacred enough? Who, exactly, am I to become… this?”

Sianna in Barcelona

Now, looking back I can see that there, in my childhood temple that was/is the natural world I tasted the profound and sought alignment with that feeling. Grasping for a title to secure my place as if sacred communion requires an in, a set of credentials.

And it’s taken me this long, in fact, to mend the rift that was formed in that first shocking separation and begin to reconcile, bit by little bit, the mystic, with the career woman, the seeker and the home maker, the yogini with the provider. To see all parts and roles, all faces, as essential to the whole. While my adult self buckles under the weight of frets and fears of potential failure and humiliation, my childhood Self, there under the stars, rejoices at the permission – no, the need – that it come along this time, for the ride.

The role of the mentor here then, the great mastery of our elders, the role of the maha teacher who teaches the teachers, is to see past the limited adult ideas that have crystalized and coated over that childlike purity, who only sought communion, who only knew to be itself, and beckon it, support it, dance it into the light, once again.

And so with a deep sigh of relief I find solace and fall into the arms of grace that take the form of my teacher, my mentor and my friend.

John and Sianna - photo by Mario Covic

Working with Sianna is like getting caught in the most delightful whirlwind of love and community. A swirling sacred flame, a deep bow to the dance. I see in her a devotion to her students in the way of friendship that that goes root deep, mirroring and building upon her childhood story, her dreams and her visions of who she thought we was, and who she is ever-becoming. In the beginning, I know now, she knew fear too, she knew self doubt, but she also heard, as we do, the soul calling, inviting us to stay true, to have courage, to be our brightest. When I forget, she says to me;

Show up however you are, as raw and honest and vulnerable with all the thick forest of emotions and thoughts that come into it, lay it on the table and we will make a feast out of it.

As Douglas Brooks says: yoga is always an invitation. It is never an obligation. My personal invitation is to surrender to that inner voice that feels so utterly childlike. That part of myself that doesn’t know all the answers, that needs the support of the weaver’s web, of community, of sisterhood, and of ancestry. In Sianna’s eyes I see her Seeing me, past the bog, around the boulders, and down the slippery slope to the waters that promise depth.

www.mariocovic.com

She says; come on in, the water’s nice… and I do.

Sometimes I feel light - weightless, moved by the pulse of the invisible. This video captures the element in the moment. The spiral that guides the dance, Vayu - Air.

#thenatureofdance

"You either live in a world of abundance or a world of scarcity, and whichever one you choose affects everything you do. "

-Chuck Blakeman

It’s two days past Christmas. I’m hunkered down in my childhood home back in Colorado avoiding the retail rush of Christmas sales and returns, not simply because our consumptive society drives me slightly batty, but also because I’m one month into a seismic shift in my main income source - and funds are tight. It’s that moment that every risk-taking entrepreneur faces - the moment your ideas are put the test of profit and loss. The numbers are no longer projections in a spreadsheet. The game is real now and rent, that staggeringly large San Francisco number, aloof and uncaring, is still due on the 1st.

I know this doesn’t sound like much fun, but like many in my community - a community of yogis, artists, dancers, small business owners and cliff hangers, you kind of get used to having trust for breakfast. Which is certainly the glue that holds the animalistic and instinctual ‘get yours or die’ at bay. According to Chuck Blakeman, a small business expert, speaker, coach and writer - and, guiltily, my dad, says that unfortunately, big business mentality, and the industrial-age, outdated business models we have to look to for help, only exacerbate this instinctual knee-jerk reactivity - scarcity thinking, that he says, will keep you poor.

It’s a kind of poverty consciousness that I know all too well. Three years ago I founded an online retail company that sold fire hula hoops. I founded it on accident really, stumbling upon what would soon be a very popular hand-made design that I persistently helped to craft, fueled out of frustration for what was then available. To my bafflement this hobby quickly turned pro - to become consistently labeled the best in the industry - and over the following years I came to depend on the income that funneled in from fire-prone niche dancers.

When another company began to make and market similar designs I fretted, I fumed and I fell, every now and again, into a dangerous mentality of victimhood. Like a cat licking her wounds I glared out from my corner of the ring at the injustice of it all... I simply couldn’t believe why someone would do something like that, how they could sleep at night taking sales from me - my sweat, blood and tears, my livelihood no less.  In my worst moments, which thankfully didn’t always prevail, I felt downright threatened, and that, made me a very angry entrepreneur.

The next few months that anger fueled a huge push of innovation in the design, the branding, and the customer service and as a company we reached unprecedented levels of success - both to my delight and my detriment. You see, I had grown myself into a not-so-figurative corner. I maxed out my man-power and found myself working 15 hour days. I’d sneeze and a hula hoops would fall off their hooks on the walls, I was knee deep in packaging paper and at a standstill, frozen by my own order queue, by customer service inquiries, by raw material shipments on backorder. It was, by many people’s standards, a good problem to have, but at that point more than ever my sweat, blood and tears, my lifeline and income source, the company I worked so hard to grow, to hold onto, to protect, was at risk of going down.

"Traditional business plan thinking tells you that if you plan well enough, you’ll avoid all the “problems”. But usually it’s those “problems” that lead you to the best plan."

-Chuck Blakeman

And this is the point in the story where the hero surprises us all, where the bad-guy turns out to be your own misconstrued understanding of reality and the prince on the white horse was in fact, the slimy toad you chose to ignore. Six months ago I found myself in preliminary conversations with my main ‘competitor’, Hoop Drum - who also happened to be my friends - about merging our two companies to become one powerhouse of freed up schedules, more efficient services, and one bad-ass product. The best of both worlds. Synergy Firehoops, was born.

It was a good move. We’re one month into our launch and, although we all walk the cliff edge of new business nerves and grasp our wallets tightly, our numbers, and future, are looking promising. Whattya know.

What I didn’t know then, but know now, is that business doesn’t exist in a pre-disposed bubble of big-business capitalism. That we can choose how we view reality and interact with the world there, just as anywhere else. That competition and challenge are only ganesh-like obstacles that sharpen your knife edge of relevancy in the market. That vulnerability, even there!, is potent and real and relationships, with our customers, with each other, reign supreme.

One week ago my dad posted the following article on his blog, which just about sums it up. We all deal with imitation, with competition, with perceived threats, with scenarios that feel less-than-comfortable, but as he always says, ‘circumstances do not make you who you are, but how you respond to them does.’

--------- by Chuck Blakeman, Dec 5, 2010 ----------

Your Competition, Isn't.

I’ve sold millions in big contracts and small and never once thought about “competition.” It’s NEVER a factor. I don’t think I have any. I don’t believe you do, either. If you think you do, you’re probably not thinking straight.

Big business loves to teach us to do “SWOT” analyses" where the “T” is for “Threats”, those evil competitors who are going to swoop in and steal our clients any day. The only threats you should ever be worried about come from within your own company and your own head.

The problem is bad thinking and bad strategies on your part. Some examples:

You either live in a world of abundance or a world of scarcity, and whichever one you choose affects everything you do.

This isn’t woo-woo crap. This is hard-core success thinking. If you live in a zero sum world then there’s only so much to go around, and you better get yours before the next guy gets his. If you live in a world of abundance you figure out how to help other people be successful so that you can be, too. I do a weekly lunch with 50-60 business owners and regularly have “competition” there who “steal” potential clients. I’m glad they find clients there. I do, too. Everyone says it’s the best weekly lunch environment they’ve ever been around, because it’s based on living in a world of abundance.

People who focus on trying to figure out what makes their competition successful don’t have enough good ideas of their own.

We don’t have time to figure out what others are doing – we’re too busy trying to breathe life into our own ideas. Focus on getting better, not on your competition.

Focus on your client’s needs, not your competition’s products.

I expend a lot of energy figuring out what my clients need (which isn’t necessarily what they always want right away). If you do that, you won’t have time to focus on what other providers are doing.

You’re a terrible guesser, anyway.

I’ve seen companies dissect the products, services or marketing of other companies, then mimic it, only to find out they were mimicking the worst part of what the others were doing. You thought it was what made them successful and so did they. They’re thanking you for helping them see it clearly while you go out of business.

The two last words of a dying company are “Me, Too.”

The best way to ensure you are irrelevant is to mimic other people’s successes rather than creating your own. That strategy is fundamental to a world of scarcity, but worse yet it shows a complete lack of originality, passion, cause, mission, or joy in what you do. And it means you’re only in it for the money and people who try to make money make a lot less than people who birth something the world can use.

If someone “beats” you, they simply have something the customer needs that you don’t.

Rejoice for the customer. If you also have things other customers will want, you’ll attract those relationships and the other guy won’t. When you try to be all things to all men you become nothing to anyone (a wandering generality vs. a meaningful specific – Ziz Ziegler).

If you have something meaningful to offer, you will get customers. If you don’t you won’t. Blaming “competitors” for “losing” contracts is nonsense. Just get better in a few things and go deeper, not wider. If you’re not losing a lot of opportunities, you’re too wide and likely are delivering on the edge of mediocrity. Not a great long term strategy.

The bottom line

Get the idea of competition out of your head and focus on being the best at whatever great idea you’ve birthed. And while you’re at it, try to figure out how to make the other guy successful, too. You’ll make a lot more money and have a lot more fun.

A Business of Significance - Quick Vignettes

Read more about Chuck Blakeman on his blog.

Follow him on twitter.