Bhanu Bhatnagar2013-06-19T17:28:36-04:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=bhanu-bhatnagarCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Bhanu BhatnagarGood old fashioned elbow grease.Teaching My First Yoga Classtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.24164622013-01-06T03:59:04-05:002013-03-07T05:12:01-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/Luang Prabang in northern Laos. But it's always funny how things work out, how the universe places obstacles and opportunities in your path, allowing you to test yourself. If there's one thing I took away with me from my yoga training, it is being sensitive to this.
I arrived in Laos to visit a dear friend. We had both discovered yoga separately and it was a perfect time for us to reconnect after many years, with our new shared passion. After a four-week teacher training intensive at the Samahita Retreat in Thailand, I needed some rest and relaxation, time to internalise everything. To my pleasant surprise, I discovered Julie is spearheading a fledgling yoga community in Luang Prabang, teaching and organising classes and workshops for the many travellers that come through, as well as the local expat community.
It's real. It's raw. From an outdoor deck overlooking the Nam Khan river to a creaky room in an active Buddhist temple complex, the locations are truly inspiring. I'm used to practicing yoga at home or in a standard yoga studio. This was a treat. And a challenge too (think, mosquitos at dusk).
Julie dragged me to a class every day, sometimes more than one class a day. She's passionate about sharing yoga and has taken it upon herself to help create a community in Luang Prabang. One of the ways she's doing this is by inviting teachers and practitioners to come and visit. And that's where I come in.
Julie gave me one of her teaching slots and made the class a donation only event. All the money collected went to support the Traditional Arts and Ethnology Center. Their mission is to preserve cultural diversity in Laos by empowering ethnic minorities. And so my first class became an exercise in karma yoga or selfless service. Needless to say I was very nervous, but I figured it's best to just take the plunge. Not to mention I had only just completed my teacher training, so everything was still fresh in my mind.
I taught in an old, dark, wooden room that lay at the back of an active temple complex. Monks walked the grounds in their orange robes. You had to ascend a wooden ladder to get to the space. It was beautiful. Full of character and energy. It was a small room, and much to my surprise, it was full. There were nine students, 10 if you included me.
And then I began. I was committed for 90 minutes. These students were looking to me for knowledge, direction and stillness. I tend to enjoy high energy classes that build a lot of heat. So that's what I dished out. I had prepared an Ashtanga Vinyasa sequence with time for a long relaxation (Savasana) at the end. The first 45 minutes were a little nerve-wracking. There was a lot to concentrate on at the same time, remembering the sequence, guiding the students, adjusting their poses where needed, while being mindful of the time and the energy in the room. But then something clicked. I relaxed. Deep down I think I realised I had nothing to fear. I've been practicing yoga for years and often dreamt about leading my own class. Here I was doing it, and I wasn't about to let it become an unjoyful event.
The last 45 minutes I began to find my voice. I felt more comfortable offering up suggestions or modifications to poses, sharing anecdotes about yoga, and towards the end, guiding my students through a meditation and relaxation sequence.
The highlight for me was most definitely one of the students who, after class, came up to me and said she'd never have guessed that this was my first time teaching yoga had I not told her. I was buzzing for hours afterwards.
As a teacher, you'll always remember your first class, good or bad. It is upon that first experience that you build yourself and strive to be better. Teaching yoga is the ultimate exercise in humility, and as such, is a form of meditation, because it forces you to step outside yourself, to leave your ego at the door and 'become' the student you're trying to teach.
I am forever grateful for the chance to experience this.
If your travels ever take you to Luang Prabang, make sure to visit the dedicated website Julie has set up for information on yoga activities in the area. And say "hello" to her for me.
Yoga overlooking the Nam Khan river
Julie leading a candle-lit seated meditation
Teaching my first class
Teaching my first class ]]>'Good' Versus 'Bad' Yoga Practicetag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.22094002012-11-29T04:15:14-05:002013-01-28T05:12:01-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/"Abide not with dualism,
Carefully avoid pursuing it;
As soon as you have right and wrong,
Confusion ensues, and Mind is lost"
----Edward Conze, Buddhist Scriptures
The other day, my yoga practice just wasn't up to my standards. During my morning asanas I lacked energy and drive, unable and unwilling to move myself into basic poses, let alone complicated ones. To say it was frustrating would be an understatement. I enjoy the heat of a yoga practice, the sweating and the dynamism. I am dominated by the fire and air elements (pitta and vata, respectively). This means I have a lot of energy to burn before even trying to sit down in quiet meditation or stillness. And it's probably the reason I so enjoy a high energy practice which leaves my body exhausted and my mind at ease.
But there I was, on my mat in a self-practice class, watching everyone around me flip from one pose to another. I just couldn't find the energy within me to push myself to do more, to create more heat, to get a better workout, to see some progress.
And it got me thinking, what does a "good" practice even mean? It's a complete contradiction if you stop and think about it. My body and mind are different from minute to minute, forget about day to day. So it's only natural that some days will be "better" than others.
Yoga teaches us that duality is a misconception. We mistakenly identify with form and our thoughts reinforce the sense that we are separate from the rest of the universe. And then we get caught up in judging everything, what's good, what's bad, what's progress and what's failure. But all that incessant thinking misses a fundamental point: there is no good or bad. That's a judgment call made by my limited mind. Things just are. And it is in accepting them that we find joy and peace.
Everything in life consists of dualistic forces and in yoga we try to balance these. Hatha yoga, the mother of all modern yoga forms, literally means sun (Ha) and moon (Tha). We aim to balance these opposing energies through the practice of pranayama, meditation and asana.
Back on my mat, I found myself watching my mind and my body as they struggled to complete the 2-hour practice. I was unhappy with my performance. We live in a world obsessed with perceived progress and visible results. We place unrealistic and unnecessary expectations on ourselves and then we suffer when we can't meet them. I'm just as guilty of this kind of unconscious torture as anyone else. There i was thinking I was having a "bad" practice because I wasn't strong enough, fast enough, hot enough. And then I caught myself smiling at the irony of it all. So I accepted my tired and deflated body with love, recognising that my mind was attaching judgment to my practice. The practice itself always was, and is, beautiful.
]]>Karma Yoga: What Is It And Why Does It Matter?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.21694652012-11-21T00:53:45-05:002013-01-20T05:12:01-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/"I slept and I dreamed that life is all joy. I woke and I saw that life is all service. I served and I saw that service is joy." ― Kahlil Gibran
Say the word "yoga" and most people will think of people assuming strange shapes with their bodies to stretch and contort their muscles. While this is true, there are in fact four types of yoga, all of them designed to help the practitioner achieve oneness with a so-called Supreme Being or Supreme Consciousness (which is in fact the primal energy that drives us, the planet, the solar system and the whole universe - yes, heavy, I know!)
The modern practice of yoga as we know it is called Raja Yoga. First described in the Yoga Sutras of Pantanjali as an eight-fold path to awakening and eventually, enlightenment, it involves the stilling of the mind through meditation and asana practice.
But there are three other types of yoga, designed for different human temperaments:
Karma Yoga is all about acting without expecting any fruits from your labour. It's about giving yourself fully to an activity for the benefit of someone (or something) else. All of the world's great religions encourage charity and altruism as a pillar of their faith, and it's no surprise. Acting selflessly gives us a feeling of bliss, pure and simple. It taps into our true nature; our desire to spread love and compassion. The Dalai Lama says "the more we care for the happiness of others, the greater our own sense of well-being becomes."
With that in mind we set off to paint a school building here in Koh Samui, Thailand, as a form of service to the beautiful island that is our home during the month-long yoga teacher training intensive I'm attending at Samahita Retreat.
All 39 of us plus our fantastic yoga guru Stephen Thomas, his wife, and several others, descended on a small school tucked away in the jungle in the searing heat of the mid-afternoon.
Armed with rollers and brushes we got stuck in painting the outside of the school building blue and purple. It was a sweaty job, especially for those of us trying to paint the top half of the building with two-metre long paint-rollers.
But it wasn't a chore. And that's because we were doing it as a form of karma yoga, as a form of service for which we expected nothing in return. We did it for the kids, for the teachers, for the school, for the community, for the island. It was done out of love, and so we did with smiles plastered across our sweaty faces.
The school, before we got started
Hard at work
90 minutes later ]]>An Oasis For Your Mind, Body and Soultag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.21343802012-11-15T00:01:58-05:002013-01-14T05:12:01-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/Samahita Retreat is an oasis unlike any I have seen or experienced before. Tucked away on the southern part of Koh Samui, in Thailand, it's a sanctuary dedicated to yoga, wellness and a balanced lifestyle.
I'm attending a month-long yoga teacher intensive here, led by the dynamic and inspiring Stephen Thomas. One week in, and I'm beginning to see why so many people, yogis and others alike, consider this place a home away from home.
The schedule can be grueling: getting up at 6am every day, spending several hours in the morning doing breath work (pranayama) and yoga postures (asanas). Besides the physical activity, there's much to think about too, with classes in philosophy and anatomy in the afternoon, followed by more yoga asanas.
I have found the classes in yogic philosophy particularly stimulating. The idea that 'pure consciousness' is all around and within us, that the universe (yes, that includes you) is nothing but vibrations of varying frequencies - these concepts force you to stop and think, and look at the world a little differently. The environment here supports that personal discovery.
Then there's the food. It's more than just delicious. It's tasty on the palate as well as nourishing inside the body. Guided by the principles of a sattvic diet, the chefs at Samahita Retreat prepare some of the most amazing food you can eat without harming your body or mind. Everything is fresh and seasonal, there's lots of fruit, cereals, legumes, vegetables and nuts. Meat is never served, though fish is sometimes available. We eat twice a day, and it's always a pleasure to see what the chefs have conjured up with their imagination, from raw vegetable lasagnas to homemade salad dressings and jams to coconut fig balls to soups and stir fries. It truly is a feast for the eyes and the stomach.
Samahita Retreat also boasts a wellness centre offering a range of therapies, from traditional massages to detox therapies like colon cleansing and coffee enemas. All in all, this place takes a holistic approach to well-being, one that's guided by the teachings of yoga but fits in with our modern world.
This place is about letting go, on so many levels: of bad habits, negative thoughts, repetitive behaviour, the inclination to judge and be judged. It's a misconception that yoga is all about achieving bliss. Rather, it's about balance: a realisation that life is not always bliss and neither should it be. The journey of self-discovery is never easy. But as the days and weeks progress, I can see myself truly relaxing here, away from the stresses of my life, in moments of silence and reflection. And that's very important for each and every one of us, whether you realise it yet or not. And you don't need a tropical retreat on a beautiful island to go to that space, though of course being surrounded by nature, healthy food and good company, helps.
If you're interested in reading about what we're up to day to day on the teacher training course, my friend and fellow yogi, Elisa Malinverni, is blogging on our daily practice and reflections here.
]]>A Strong Yoga Community Makes All The Difference to Your Practicetag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.20383202012-10-29T09:36:34-04:002012-12-29T05:12:02-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/yoga means "union" - of the body, mind and soul. It's a relatively easy concept to understand, but that's not the point. The idea is to "feel" the union, through the practice of yoga and meditation. And like anything in life, you have to strive and struggle to get there...oh, and not to mention, sweat.
Most yoga practitioners will tell you that you must cultivate your own practice at home, in your own space; that you must commit to your time on the mat. And I couldn't agree more. But that takes a lot of effort, confidence and self-motivation, which we often lack. Having a strong yoga community makes all the difference.
I was a complete cynic when I attended my first yoga class almost five years ago. From what little I knew about it, I thought, who needs yoga when I can go to the gym, ride my bicycle or play a sport. How wrong I was.
I walked out of my very first session into a cold, crisp London evening, feeling on top of the world. There's no better way to describe it: an intangible feeling of joy and peace, as cliche as that may sound. The next morning though, I felt my muscles, and boy did I feel my muscles. I walked like I had taken a dump in my pants, but with a smile on my face. I must have looked rather peculiar.
After practicing on and off in London for several years, without a real yoga community, I moved to Doha, in the tiny Gulf state of Qatar. This is a conservative Muslim society where women cover up, alcohol is restricted and so is freedom of religion. The last thing I expected was a tight-knit yoga community to rival London, New York, or any other cosmopolitan city.
The past two years have seen me become part of a wonderful yoga family of teachers and students who offer encouragement, smiles, laughter and help me connect with myself on the mat. It's thanks to them that my yoga practice has become solid and regular. If it wasn't for their love and support, I would probably not be embarking on the next leg of my spiritual journey.
In just over a week I will find myself on the tropical Thai island of Koh Samui, where I will attend a 4-week residential teacher training programme at Yoga Thailand. This will be the next big test of my stamina, endurance and patience, involving 4-5 hours of yoga each day, lectures, workshops and meditation.
But I'm ready for the challenge. Nothing worthwhile in life can be achieved without some form of effort or personal sacrifice. But I bow my head to the amazing yogis that came into my life two years ago, gave me a sense of community in a foreign land as well as the confidence and courage to continue striving. Once I'm a certified yoga teacher, I hope to give some of that back.
Watch this space for more yoga reflections from Koh Samui.]]>How We Treat Refugees Says A Lot About Who We Aretag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.19601562012-10-13T08:04:20-04:002012-12-13T05:12:01-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/ "There is an African saying, that it takes a village to raise a child. At Romero House, we say that it takes a neighbourhood to welcome a refugee"
- Mary Jo Leddy, founder, Romero House
Uprooted from their lives, sometimes in a violent manner, many refugees find themselves in alien lands with little or no knowledge of the local language or culture and (generally) without friends or family to help a lending hand. Most western governments refer to refugees as "clients" or "customers" when processing their applications. There's little or no recognition of the person behind the paperwork.
That's where Romero House comes in. Located in Canada's commercial capital, this is no ordinary refugee centre. It consists of four houses and a community centre in the west end of Toronto that provide housing, settlement and advocacy services to refugees and their families, as their applications are processed in the Canadian system. What makes this place unlike any other is that the founder, director and a group of volunteers live with the refugees, in the same houses, side by side. No locks are allowed on the doors of individual units within the houses (though there is of course a lock on the front door).
The aim is to foster trust. It creates a sense of community and belonging that was notably absent from the refugees' lives, and importantly, provides a support network as they try to settle into their new lives. Each arriving refugee is paired up with a Canadian companion. This volunteer helps with everyday issues, like catching the subway or buying groceries, and countless other errands.
Romero House's community centre
There's a lot to deal with as a refugee in a new country and it can seem daunting: filing for refugee status, seeking out legal advice, enrolling children into school, getting medical attention, learning the local language, finding employment, opening a bank account, registering for social welfare, finding somewhere to live, the list goes on. Now, imagine trying to do all this without any friends to offer you encouragement and advice, and it becomes clear why Romero House plays such an important role in the community.
I sit down with the founder, Mary Jo Leddy, and the director, Sarah Villiger, along with two former residents of Romero House. Back in the 1990's around 80 per cent of homeless people in Toronto were refugees, Mary Jo tells me. So she embarked on a radical social experiment: to establish a centre that treats refugees like brothers and sisters. Romero House is rooted in the Christian tradition. Mary Jo is a writer, activist and theologian. But this centre is by no means exclusively Christian. It respects and welcomes all faiths and communities. Refugees pay rent, but only if they can.
Director Sarah Villiger (left) and one of the summer interns
Then I get to talk to "Marco" and his wife. He used to work in the attorney general's office in Mexico as a homicide detective. It was a dangerous job. He and his family would regularly receive death threats. The Mexican authorities tried to protect him, but in the end, he was forced to leave. He left a good salary and fled to Canada, eventually bringing his wife and children over as well. Romero House was there for him and his family during trying times, both emotionally and financially. He's recently been given full residency status in Canada, and can now begin rebuilding his life. But without the support and love offered by Romero House when he needed it most, things might have looked very different.
It's clear to me the people who work here do so because they want to. It most definitely isn't for the money, because there isn't much. It's a labour of love, a sense of responsibility towards newcomers to Canada and a genuine commitment to treating refugees as human beings rather than "clients." Ultimately, how we treat those less fortunate than ourselves, says a lot about who we are.
Dorval is the name of one of the buildings run by Romero House
Dorval ]]>Socotra: A Jewel Of Biodiversity in the Middle Easttag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.19349692012-10-03T10:25:58-04:002012-12-03T05:12:02-05:00Bhanu Bhatnagarhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/bhanu-bhatnagar/
Socotra. The name conjures images of the exotic and unknown, an island paradise, with breathtaking beaches and a truly alien landscape. With high granite mountains, deep valleys, frankincense trees, limestone plateaus, lagoons and wind-battered cliffs that drop straight into the sea, just 50,000 people call Socotra home. Where is this place, you might ask. The answer is Yemen.
A people's revolution in Yemen last year resulted in the ousting of President Ali Abdullah Saleh, who ruled for 22 years, only for him to be replaced by one of his deputies. Most Western governments advise their citizens not to visit. There is a known (though small) Al Qaeda presence. And a spate of kidnappings has made foreigners nervous. In short, Yemen is not considered a worthwhile tourist destination.
So there was some understandable concern from my friends and family when I told them I was off to Yemen for 10 days, to visit Socotra. Considered one of the jewels of biodiversity in the Arabian Sea, Socotra is unlike anywhere else on the planet. Referred to as the Galapagos of the Middle East, the island was created after the African and Arabian land masses split some 20 million years ago. In 2009 UNESCO named the entire island a world heritage site. 90% of its reptiles and a third of its 900 plant species are found nowhere else on the planet. And the diversity of the island's natural heritage is also reflected in its people - who are the descendants of Africans, Arabs and Indians - a true melting pot. And they speak their own (unwritten) language too -Socotri - which pre-dates Arabic.
Socotri boys show off their catch.
People here live by the seasons. There are very few paved roads. Even the capital, Hadibo, lacks basic infrastructure. Traveling through Socotra you get a sense that people here are content. They have a tight-knit community of villages (some as small as a few mud houses), everyone knows everyone else going back several generations, they look out for each other, and cherish their unique identity.
Mainland Yemen has one of the highest rates of gun ownership in the world. On Socotra, there are no guns. On mainland Yemen, most men carry a ceremonial dagger (janbiya) wherever they go. On Socotra, nobody carries a dagger. This place feels different from the rest of Yemen, indeed, from the rest of the Arab world.
Tourism to Socotra is suffering because of the continuing political crisis on the mainland. One of my guides, Abduljameel, tells me he's been working tirelessly to promote Socotra for many years. And things had finally started to pick up when the latest crisis began. In 2010 for example, around 4,000 tourists visited Socotra. The following year just 250 tourists came to the island. Abduljameel tells me there's a sense of fear among many travelers that Socotra may not be safe. Nothing, he says, could be further from the truth. In fact, he markets Socotra as THE safest place to visit in all of the Middle East. And it certainly felt that way while I was there.
Abduljameel
Abduljameel runs Socotra Eco-Tours from his small office in the capital Hadibo. It functions more like a co-operative than a company. He enlists the help of fishermen, guides and drivers, from right across the island, all of whom get a cut of what the tourist pays. It's a sustainable and equitable way to share the limited wealth that comes to the island.
The fallout from the political crisis on mainland Yemen has meant a loss of livelihoods and income for many Socotris who rely on tourism to make ends meet. One of our guides, Sami, says he works on his family's date palm farm when tourist numbers are low. Another guide, Mehdi, moonlights as a fisherman to make ends meet. But these guys are trained in conservation and eco-tourism, with impeccable English, and an in-depth knowledge of Socotra's natural heritage. It's a shame they're not showing more tourists around their unique island home, applying the skills they have.
From left, Mehdi (guide), Sami (guide) and Hany (driver)
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