Setting An Intention

What a great turnout we had for the open house. It was super great to see all of you and share our common enthusiasm for the practice of yoga! Thanks again to Ron Feeley at the laundromat for moving around the sets of attached molded plastic chairs to make room for us to meet and for asking some of the "regulars" to find an alternate place to sleep while we used the space!

Dallas, Shatra and I were wildly impressed with all the great questions many of you asked us. (I believe Dallas will be addressing the many, many questions concerning YTT certification--a hugely popular topic in the yoga universe right now!) So I'd like to take this opportunity to answer a question I was asked: "What is setting an intention?" and, "Why do it?"

In my classes, after a few breathing exercises and neck stretches in easy seated pose, I like to take a few minutes to center; to set an intention for our practice. It can be something as simple as, "I am dedicating all 15 minutes of yoga practice to myself, to be present and to honor my body." (And just to be clear, I don't mean honor MY body, Peter, it means to honor your own body-ok?) Setting an intention is an important part of the practice as it serves to center your mind allowing mental congruence with physical asana. I hope this helps and thanks again for the great question!

On another note: There seems to be a bit of confusion surrounding the location of next Thursday's class. It will be held on loading dock "A" back behind the furniture store. I think word of mouth got a bit wacky that we were adding an "underachiever's" class..... What I meant was we will meet "under (platform) A (for) Cheever's Yoga". Nothing like outdoor yoga--We've got a couple of space heaters but we could always use more because there's nothing worse than a stiff body or a crunchy yoga mat.

Shanti, Liz

Washout Here We Come

Well, it's been more than a week since the last post. And while it may have seemed the interminable dark ages for our readers, it's been even worse for me.

As Liz informed you, we've run into a bit of trouble with our lease. The esteemed management company that runs our strip mall and condo complex believes, quite wrongly, that we have violated the terms of the lease by holding classes after 10pm. We have some reason to believe that we're simply victims of a power play by an interested party. I'm not at liberty now to say more. I've engaged our lawyer, one of the Borderland's finest, Ken Wasumata to untangle the issue. Ken has assured me that they haven't a leg to stand on. To add to our optimism, his partner, Kimiko Sosumi, is in full agreement and behind us 100 percent.

Until this matter gets put to bed, so to speak, we will need to seek temporary quarters. Hopefully we can nail down one spot, but we have to be prepared to don sheets and saddle up the camels. I sincerely want to thank Ron for allowing us to borrow some of his precious real estate. That was very touching. And I'd like to say that despite the adverse circumstances, we had a great turnout for the event last Friday. And you know what, the cycling sounds of the washers were as good if not better than standard yoga flute music.

So, during this last week, Liz, Shatra, and I have been scouring the area for a temporary alternative location. International Falls being what it is, odds are we've run into you in this search. Yoga is a vital part of the community and deserves its rightful home. If you can help, let us know!!

Again, I'd like to thank our law firm of Wasumata, Sosumi LLP for all their efforts in the battle to get us back where we belong.

Namaste,

Dallas

** LOCATION CORRECTION **

FRIDAY NIGHT'S OPEN HOUSE HAS BEEN MOVED TO A NEW LOCATION

As many of you know, Dallas has been having some trouble securing the lease for the studio. Apparently the other building tenants are not embracing our 2:00 a.m. "Howl At The Moon Stretch and Chant" class. I guess there are some obvious issues with mixed-use business and residential occupancy. Perhaps if we tone down our instruments and use our indoor chanting voices, things will eventually work themselves out. In the meantime, Friday night's open house will be held at the rear of the laundromat on Third Street. Throw a load in and work the kinks out!

Shanti!
Liz

Yoga in International Falls: it's that important

Reasons for practicing yoga are: building strength; improving mental focus; and increasing flexibility. Each of these is important to quality of life. Here in International Falls they are critical. When it hits 50 below, there's no margin for error. You must keep your wits about you, have the strength to survive, and maintain flexibility even as a nature tries to turn you into a two-legged icicle.

We at Cheever Yoga in International Falls offer you an ancient pathway to a better life. Come see what we're all about. This Friday night we're holding an open house to the public where you may visit our studio, chat with our instructors, and learn what we can do for you. I, Shatra, and Liz will all be there along with some of our students, who can share their own stories of what yoga's done for them.

Some have the mistaken impression that yoga is only for ditzy, holistic, vegan housemoms. We want you to understand that yoga is for everybody. And when I say everybody, I mean everybody. Our students include auto mechanics, paperboys, registered nurses (male and female), auctioneers, and even a human cannonball. And you don't have to be a toothpick to enjoy yoga. Yoga students come in all dimensions, some even four. Odds are there's somebody just like you taking one of our classes right now.

Stop by for green tea and donuts!

We look forward to meeting you,

Dallas, Shatra, and Liz

The Undeniable Chi of Smokey

Though it's been commonly agreed that there are more than 200,000 words in the English language, there are many things that are difficult to explain with words. Some things you have to feel to know. Like truth, for example, or love, or a stubbed toe.

So when people say to me, "Hey Liz, Why did you move from Bemidji to International Falls?", there really aren't sufficient words to adequately answer. The best way to respond is by using words illustratively; a story. Every summer for 12 years my parents packed up our bus--our Wenzel Klondike Vacation Lodge 9 tent that my dad picked up for $40 at the "slightly defective" days sale at Noble's hunting and fishing store, 10 sleeping bags (there are 7 in my family but we learned, over time, to expect unexpected guests for a night or two), Coleman stoves and coolers (my brother Mo almost lost his right pinky in the metal clasp), canvas duffle bags, collapsible plastic water jugs, kerosene lanterns--and road-tripped from Bemidji to Zippel Bay, stopping mid-way in International Falls.

It was here in the park, sitting cross-legged in the grass eating my cream cheese and Welch's grape jelly sandwich, in the literal shadow of Smokey the Bear that I felt the energy shift inside me. It could have been all the fritos but I prefer not to think that. I was about 7 or 8 years old and when I looked up at Smokey's calm, knowing face, I began to understand my destiny. It was at that moment when I noticed the most obvious sign. Smokey clearly displays the stylized Buddhist hand gesture of Abhaya Mudra; open right hand, palm out, fingers (or in this case paw pads) pointed toward the sky, representing fearlessness and enlightenment. Though typically a Bodhisattva with right hand in Abhaya also has left hand in Varada Mudra, arm down, palm facing forward. Smokey, however, has his left hand firmly gripped on his shovel shaft signifying, I guess, some sort of manual exercise.

For all the summers to follow, the stop at the park was calming and meaningful and I knew that one day I would return to live here. Some of you may be familiar with the biblical metaphor of "the right hand of God", the place of honor. For me, my yogic and meditative path began in easy seated pose on the left paw of Smokey.

Shanti, Liz

Gotterdammerung in Tulum

Last night I had the students in my hip openers class for select youth from Arrowhead Regional Corrections say a few extra shantis for Tulum, Mexico.  We have a number of good friends down there whose lives and livelihoods have been threatened by storm Karl.  Karl marks the first time the yoga retreats of the Mayan region have been targeted since hurricane Friedrich engulfed them some years ago.

As the storm made landfall I happened to be talking with Mauricio Krishnamurti, who runs the food and beverage service for Maya Tulum.  He said a few guests had voluntarily evacuated, but that most thought this a once in a lifetime opportunity to commune with the capital forces of nature. 

As we chatted he described the developing scene.  A flock of students made for the beach and took up positions facing the storm.  They began a warrior sequence to open their chakras, moving from I to II and back as rain began to beat upon them.  Some stumbled in the growing wind, but most held steady.  Some crazy student then tried warrior III and the others, eager to avoid appearing lesser, followed suit.  Just then the wind changed direction and surged and they began to spin like tops.  One crashed into another and soon the sand was strewn with fallen bodies.  The wind surged again, nearing hurricane strength, and Mauricio commented on how bits of lycra were ripped from the wrecked assemblage.  He described how he felt as if he were in a ticker-tape parade.  When he finally caught a glimpse of the students through the aeolian fragments, he said juicily how it seemed to have turned into a tantra class.

And then the line went dead.  We fear for him.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om Tulum,

Dallas

A warm 83° THANK YOU

to Dallas and Shatra for organizing today's off-site field trip! What a fabulous time we all had participating in the yoga march, visiting all 2 of our ethnic communities and ending with the live yoga demonstration at Riverpark. It's with a very hearty NAMASTE! that we acknowledge all the support from passing river boaters who clearly appreciated all yoga has to offer. Thanks too, to Guru Riccardo Walter for imparting the creative spiritual lesson of the afternoon: IT IS WHAT YOU SAY IT IS. More meaningful words were never spoken. Or were they? Lastly, congratulations to Malmo Cheever for winning the tomato and feta eating contest.

Hello Cheever Yoga Seniors!

My name is Liz Johnson and I'll be teaching the new 65+ class at the studio beginning two weeks from Thursday. I am so excited for this opportunity as it combines three of literally thousands of passions in my life: My childhood dream of permanent relocation to IF (at least until I'm legally allowed to cross the border into Canada again--just kidding!), yoga (of course!) and really, really old people who've surrendered to the notion of permanent physical and mental inflexibility.

A bit about me: I grew up in Bemidji, MN the third of five kids--for those of you who can tell the difference between median, mean and mode-- there are no middle child issues here. I just want everyone to be happy and get along! As a kid I came to know International Falls every summer by way of stopover from Bemidji to my Uncle Tom's cabin near Lake of the Woods. For those of you keen on geography and "as the crow flies" directions, IF is not (at all) on the way from the curling capital to Muskeg Bay. Nonetheless, we'd pack up the '67 vw bus and travel by way of the Icebox of the Nation (given that it was summer, I never did understand that) to spend three months at the campground at Zippel Bay. I guess it was my mom who felt strongly that, being from another city of large folkloric statues (ref: Paul Bunyan and his ox, Babe), and that we should, by reason of lighthearted rapport, satisfy both nature's call and a break for picnic lunch with a visit to Smokey Bear Park.

My brother Magic (no, not that one) and I still reminisce about counting down the 4 hours and 8 minutes of the drive to Zippel and it had nothing to do with, believe it or not, the excitement of spending the summer at one of the ten (I believe the title is still debated) Walleye Capitals of the World. It was the car sickness. Or what we thought was car sickness until it was discovered in the winter of '75 that carbon monoxide from the rear-installed engine of the VW was leaking into the bus from the rusted out floorboards.

Anyway, my introduction is starting to be a bit of a ramble so I'll just say I'm so happy that I met Shatra at the holiday weekend fair. (See?! It pays to recycle. If I hadn't been picking up and sorting colored glass from clear at the wine tent, we would have never met and she wouldn't have introduced me to Dallas and I wouldn't be teaching my first yoga class! Well, my first yoga class for pay. I did a kind of community service thing at the Leech Lake Indian Reservation four years ago but that's another story for another post!)

So calling all seniors! Register for my class or check out my free yoga demonstration before and after the grievance support meeting on October 4th!

Shanti,

Liz

Introducing our newest instructor: Liz Johnson

I have great news today!  We've added a young, vibrant, inspiring yoga instructor and her name is Liz Johnson.  Liz will be handling our seniors programs.  We feel her ability to teach astavakrasana, salamba sirsasana, and kapotasana will be especially beneficial to our more mature students.  Liz will be appearing at the first loss support group meeting at the Hospice to spread the word of the healing power of yoga.  She hopes to see you all there.

Welcome aboard Liz!

Dallas

Departing the Borderland

I tried to drown my sorrows yesterday up and down 2nd and 3rd Aves, but I found the powers of the spirits insufficient for my needs.  About 2/3rds of the way down Leinies bottle 8 or 9 I realized what I needed to do to break out of my mourning for Dan.  The answer lay right in front of me: a mat. I lurched off the stool, snatched the mat, and made for my favorite spot on Rainy Lake.  I needed spiritual power, but not the bottled kind.

I began in tadasana.  Simple, calm.  Me and a mat, alone; the human world a distant place.  One of the central ideas of classical yoga is to break away from the world of emotions and thoughts and get in touch with your immortal self.  I rudely discovered that less than a dozen beers can do more to erode the human mountain than a network of rivers given millions of years a geological one.  So I lowered myself into easy pose, not entirely voluntarily.

I began with eyes closed and unsteady hands against my knees.  As lake air replaced sooty bar air I grew steadier.  I moved my hands into namaste, thumbs against breastbone.  I concentrated on that point of contact and observed as it rose and fell.  With each cycle of breath I entered deeper into a meditative trance.

Did you ever have dreams of flying as a kid?  Do you remember the liberating sense of floating?  That's what deep meditation is like.  Your body seems to evaporate, leaving unbounded immortal self.  Laws of physics and time dissipate.  You feel like Luke did when he first felt the force.  It's like the veil of perception lifts, revealing the pure creative power behind everything.  When that happens, you just naturally smile--not unlike Mona Lisa.

As the elation of samadhi washed over me, I heard the words of my first yoga teacher, "Drop your head to your chest, place your hands against your knees, open your eyes and look up."  Floating there in the air before me was the smiling spirit of Dan.  His right hand was in abbaya mudra, and I understood this to mean that death is not to be feared.  But as it turned out, his hand was raised because he had a question.  "Dallas," he said, "if this is heaven, why does your mat say 'Welcome to Lu's'?"


Namaste, Dallas

In memoriam Dan Deegan

This wasn't supposed to be a philosophical morning.  I had it figured for your standard early fall almost winter morning.  I'd finished my morning chores by sleeping thru Malmo's breakfast+bus routine and gone to have a simple cup of java at Sandy's.  After wading through a couple of behemoths who'd strayed from the Tee Pee I found my usual table and ordered my usual double dose of macchiato. 

Just as I'm settling in for a good old fashioned stare at the ceiling, the kind where you feel your brain draining out the back of your head, Shelley darts over and asks if I've heard?  I'm like yeah, I've heard, I have ears.  Not deaf yet.  Any day now though.  And she's like "Dan Deegan."  I'm like yeah, I know Dan, he's a bud.  Then her voice darts forward just as she had, "Did you hear about the accident?"  So I laugh and make some joke about how Dan's always forgetting his Depends.  She doesn't hear a word I say.  Who's deaf now?

"I mean the HUNTING accident" she says.  I say no, I haven't heard a thing.  Then she says a bear got him.  Some monster.  She said Mimi is beside herself, that she'd always hated Septembers, that she'd always warned Dan that someday a bear was gonna have his number, that someday there would be a reckoning for all that his bow had done.

So I stared at the ceiling, listening to all my prana departing.  Deflating couldn't be a more accurate term.  I mused over all the classes on Sartre and Kierkegaard I'd never taken at RRCC.  I remembered Bud Grant pacing the sidelines.  How would he respond?  I remembered Gump Worsley.  I always seem to think of ancient goaltenders in these moments.  Maybe they guard the not so pearly gates.  I thought about vitality and mortality.  Vitality in the warmth of the coffee, mortality in its consumption.  I did some basic math on average male lifespan, where I was on the scale, and computed about what I had left.  I calculated in a few extra years thanks to years of asanas.  The numbers still weren't pretty.

Then I threw thoughts of myself aside and thought about Dan.  Dan wasn't just a friend of Cheever Yoga, he was a personal friend.  More than a friend, really.  He gave little Malmo his first bow.  A red Genesis--really a sweet setup.  Around here that makes him a godfather.  He was maybe the first bow hunter to understand the deep connection between archery and the warrior poses.  He was a warrior.  Never had a student do a better Virabhadrasana II.  What do you do when the godfather of your child passes on?  I turned to Shelley for the answer. 

"So what happened?" I asked.  Shelley says that Dan got too close.  He'd been told not shoot bears with those stupid tracking collars on and couldn't tell if the bear he had in his sights was collared or not.  Thing is if a bear is collared you can know pretty sure, but if not, you always have doubts.  Is the collar hidden in the fur?  Is it hiding in shadow?  Some philosophy could be useful here.  Can you prove a negative?  Seeing as how you can't just ask a bear if it has a collar on, he had to creep up on it.  A younger archer with keener vision might have survived.  So Dan gets real close, and just as he's got his answer and turns to go back he slips on some spoor.  His falling thud spooked the bear and that was all she wrote.

Namaste Dan.  We'll miss you.

Dallas

Did you see us at the fair?

Just wanna thank everybody who stopped by the Cheever Yoga booth at the fair over the Labor Day weekend.  Shatra and I had a fantastic time.  And I wanna send a great big shout out to those who joined me and Shatra in honoring the town of Little Fork by doing tree pose with arms in hastasana on the hour.  Since we were maintaining the pose for as many breaths as hours things got a little hairy for some late in the day.  Fortunately the grass was soft!

And I hope you all got to see me and Malmo in the tractor races and Shatra at the wine tasting on Saturday.  I have to say I'm definitely gonna do the tractor races again next year (if we have a fair!).  The warmups were a blast.  It really gets the juices flowing to hear the roar and feel the wind in your face as you barrel down the track.  Can they make the track longer next year, tho??  100 feet is over in a flash.  If you're not right on your game at the start, you're cooked.  I have to admit my nerves were a little on edge.  Malmo came to my aid tho by shuttling libations over from the wine tasting.  The pisser is that by the time the main event rolled around I wasn't on my game, I was over my game.  The officials noticed my condition when I got on old Hillary's tractor by accident.  Things probably would have been ok if I hadn't been so insistent that it was indeed my tractor.  Well, one thing led to another and then they're telling me I'm out of the race.  I have to hand it to Malmo--he just stepped right up and said he'd race in my place.  We then had a little spat with these same overzealous officials because they didn't think Malmo was yet 14.  They couldn't see how a kid not yet in the 8th grade could be 14.  Apparently the wine glass in his hand wasn't convincing.  Fortunately they came to understand how bright Malmo is and they believed me when I said he skipped a grade.  And then just when everything seemed cool they give me "Hell" over no kill switch.  I mean come on how dangerous is this?  It's not like the blades are spinning!  I promised to have one next year and they grudgingly ok'd it.  I told Malmo to jump clear if things got dicey.  The unexpected benefit was that Malmo, being much lighter, had a real advantage in the races.  Unfortunately that advantage was wiped out when my too large helmet fell over his eyes about 75 feet down his first heat.  He only had a couple of minor scrapes to show for it due mainly to the fact that he inherits his father's flexibility.  Yoga to the rescue!  Again!

Namaste, Dallas

Better late?

After yesterday mornings oversleep mishap I had Malmo kick me awake this morning. Good thing he did or we were in replay land. I'm embarrassed to admit, tho, that despite sore ribs (are all kids so literal?) I struggled to find the vertical. By the time my feet were usefully engaged the bus had already passed so I was committed to the drive. It was only then that I remembered I'd scheduled an early morning inversion class over at Timber Pins for the fall bowling leaguers. What do to? Son or career? Boy does the rationalization kick in at those moments! School--who needs it?! Bowlers--who needs 'em?! (just kidding Mickey!). Luckily inspiration struck. Or I nearly struck it. At speeds the Deathmobile wished it could reach, I ran into (figuratively speaking of course--especially if anybody in law enforcement is reading this) a group of kids still waiting for the bus. I guess the bus they were waiting for had broken down and it was going to be another 35 minutes until a replacement came. Could I be so lucky?? Yes! So I hustled Malmo out of the Torino and had him wait with these kids. Proving one can serve both son and career!

I wish it had ended there, but one of those overprotective moms happened to be fussing over her little one there. She shouted something about how it was "illegal" to have your child wait at another bustop. It is at moments like these that you feel your yogic force surge. You don't fight hostility with hostility. I called her forward and introduced her to young Malmo. I told her to look into his little blue eyes and tell him it was illegal to go to school today. I told her to tell him it was illegal to get an education in this free country. And I told her to tell him he wasn't wanted here. And I did all this in one helluva tree pose. Once her veil of mommyhood shattered she finally saw the naked truth and relented.

And I managed to make it to my class only 10 minutes late! I wish every morning were this easy.

Namaste, Dallas (I remembered!)

What we mean by breathing into a stretch

Over the years a number of students have asked me what I mean when I prompt them to breathe into a stretch.  Most students seem to intuitively grasp the notion, but others clearly struggle with it, as can be observed by their tortured grimaces.  One poor student, in one of those yoga moments I'll never forget, I found blowing fiercely on his forward leg in trikonasana.  Quite an accomplishment when looking upward!

One of the salient benefits of yoga is teaching the body to exert only the necessary effort.  In nearly every asana there is a natural tendency to co-contract muscles that do not directly support the pose, most notably the neck and shoulders.  Despite coaching to the contrary, most beginning students require months of lessons before the light bulb pops on.  When it does, students find a much deeper pleasure in the practice.  There is a minimalist's joy in reducing an asana's actions to the fundamentals.  I believe this to be the first milestone in yogic pursuit.  The transiting of this boundary is evident on a student's face and observing that is one of the deepest joys of teaching.

Just as we seek to eliminate unnecessary co-contraction, we also seek to end the pitched battle between the stretching force and the restraining force at the sites of work.  When in uttanasana, e.g., beginning students are likely to find themselves on the one hand pushing down to lengthen the stretch, yet counteracting that very same stretch with other muscles, most often in the toes.  It's as if two thoughts are at war, one being "stretch", the other being "don't stretch".  The latter comes from a perfectly healthy fear of overstretching.  But when these two forces come in conflict the benefit of the pose is lost.  When we say "breathe into the work" we mean, "dissolve the conflict" or "eliminate the restraining force".  We advise this using the exhale because it's a natural point of physical relaxation.  Whew!  The trick is not to heartily invite back lost tension on the inhale.  As you breathe imagine a cascading waterfall: with each exhale the water (tension) drops to a lower level without rising.

Breathe,

Shatra

Namaste

Forgot to add my namaste to the last post! There's got to be a way to edit these things! I'll figure that out someday. Meantime, Namaste, Dallas.

Today is the first day....

Monday mornings are always a shock to the system, especially when they're Tuesdays. So I really don't blame myself for the oversleep. I do feel slightly guilty tho cause I was supposed to give young Malmo a ride on the first day of school--yep it's begun again over at FH. Beware the busdriver insanity. And I'll save my school supply rant for another day--I'm sure you can't wait! Anyway somehow young Malmo and his shipping container of pens and pencils seems to have made it to class by other means. This is where the iphone comes in handy, except when it gets glitchy, which is way too often. I facetimed young Malmo in homeroom, but for some reason he didn't answer. I ask you Steve Jobs, WT_? I probably hosed something up or the iphone crapped out (or as my dad the fisherman used to say, "carped out").

And this reminds me of some of the great iphone stuff we here at Cheever Yoga have in the works for you. I'm not at liberty to reveal everything right now, but Bo Rummels down at Icebox Technology (I think it's Icebox Technology--if not it should be) is working on some prototypes for the iphone. One thing I can tell you about is our patent pending "Wasasana" app. You know that one app everybody uses at the grocery store? The one where if you hear a song you like you point your phone at the speaker and it tells you what the song is? That one. Well, we're doing something like that for yoga. The idea is you point the iphone camera at somebody doing yoga and it will tell you what the pose is. And not just that. It'll tell you how to do the pose properly. How useful will that be!!! Can't tell you how excited we are about this.

So getting back around to a Monday--scratch that, Tuesday morning. The benefit of a sleep in is the great ball of our solar system was already sending beams my way, inviting a handful of deep sun salutations. Amazing how down dog especially rids the mind of day to day clutter. I'm whole again and rarin' to start the day. Watch out IF.

Welcome!!

Hey, everybody, just want to say hello and welcome to our new yoga blog!! I want to thank Shatra, who suggested it. And I want to thank her for setting it all up and adding her two cents, yogawise. Without her this never would have happened. And to tell the truth I'm relying on my young techno-son Malmo to do my postings. I'm quite hopeless with computer thingies. I had hoped to get this up earlier today but Malmo got in a little scrape north of the bridge and was late getting back. I want to say "hey" to our students on both sides of the border. And I'd like to extend an invitation to the friendly border guards to come over and try a class, gratis of course.

All the best and more later, Dallas

The meaning of tadasana

A fully realized tadasana should transform you into the axis about which your world rotates.  Think of your spine as the axis, relaxing all muscles not directly involved in lengthening upwards, especially shoulders.  Imagine the earth turning slowly about you.  Feel sun warming your exposed skin.   Sense how lightly the earth moves.  Imagine, as your shoulders relax and you enter deep calm, the spin slowing to a stop.  Sense the brilliance of nature's colors permeate your being.  As you inspire, notice how once turbulent winds abate.  You are a shining spire.

Namaste,

Shatra