Monday, May 28, 2012

Native Vision Quest & Family Camping


In honor of the humblecha (native vision quest) happening this weekend on the Sundance grounds here in Indiana, I have to share with you this special piece I wrote after attending one two years ago when I was pregnant.

I didn't make it out to the grounds this year - on my moon and not feeling up for the challenge of camping for only one night with my 18-month-old and 4 year old.  My husband went solo instead, and managed to get two powerful sweats in and have some amazing discussions with the Sundance Chief.  


Here is what happened when my family attended the humblecha two years ago.


I love camping as a family. I love reconnecting to nature, forgoing time-sucking technology, letting go of cleanliness standards, and just having fun in the moment with the ones I love. Sure, there are many down-sides of camping, but I always return with a glow that makes it all worth it.

The camping we do usually involves non-camp ground facilities, and our eclectic band of Saltcreek Sundancers. This Sundance community is a special group of friends mostly from Indiana, but also from Europe, Canada, and all over the US, who have gone to the week-long Sundance in Hoosier National Forest for the past 10 or so years.

This time we are down at the sacred Sundance grounds for a humblecha, native vision quest. Once of year, they allow people who are called to do so, to go up "on the hill" and stay alone for 2 - 4 days praying and looking for their vision. The Sundance chief guides them and looks after them. The people who go on the vision quest make special prayer ties and have done special preparations. It is a sacred rite, and their is a certain way to do it.

When we arrive at the Sundance grounds, it looks so strange. Normally, during the Sundance, we are welcomed by the red-shirted Sundance volunteer security peeps and look down onto a wide grassy-field dotted with parked cars. Bounding down the hill this time it is eerily quiet. Instead of tents popping out of the woods, and kids zipping along the grass, there is a deserted prairie-like field of waist high grass.

Like an iron buffalo (ha ha), our truck makes it through the grass, past the wood skeleton of the sundance arbor. Visions of the colorful Sundance tree with all fifty or so Sundancers circled around singing with all their hearts, seemingly haunt the arbor's sacred space left alone "to breathe" for the rest of the year.

Back within the safety of the forest, we see signs of people, and our Sundance friends welcome us with open arms. First order of business is to set up camp (thankfully avec big tent and queen mattress) and thankfully with a little help from our friends. And yes, hullelujah, there are two nice clean port-o-pots!

Next order of business is to get out the big drum, gather the singers, so we can sing the sacred Lakota songs for the ones who are up on the hill.

That is why we are here, to support those four people who are searching for direction and answers on their vision quest up on "the hill." The vision-questers have prepared for this weekend for many months, and the Sundance Chief has aided countless people (native and non-native) through this native rite.

Although the Chief has put the people on the hill in the sacred way, and has said many prayers and sung sacred songs for them, "the people" have come together now, with one voice, to call out more sacred songs. I like to think that our singing helps raise the vibration of the forest, and helps to call upon more spirits. I hope it helps the vision-questers to feel the love of our Sundance family and to bring their mind to a sacred place.

What I do know is that a half-hour into the singing, my little 2-year-old son is acting like he snuck a whole chocolate bar and washed it down with a can of (forbidden) cola. He is wired to say the least.

My son is familiar with the sacred songs from them being blasted from our stereo, or from last year's Sundance, first-hand at the sweats or ceremonies we have be to since he was in utero. He loves banging on our drums and belting out a stripped down song, "tunkashila wama tunkashila" over and over again.

When the drum came out, my son was mesmerized. There he was sitting along the other men around the big buffalo hide-drum holding special drumsticks, preparing and praying before they started to sing. My son, then stoic and serious, looked like a boy ready to take on the responsibility of being a man.

He didn't quite get to join in with the drumming, but sat on my lap taking it all in. He sat and and sat until he pulled me to my feet to join the other ladies dancing and singing. We stayed here dancing and singing until his little friend Teddy arrived and he went away (pulsating) to play.

In the evening, the Chief led a sweat for the 30 or so people who wanted to join. It was such an honor to be in a big sweat, full of experienced "walkers of the red road", and led by the Chief. Normally at the Sundance, the women and men sweat separately. For some reason, at our Sundance, the man are exponentially more experienced and trusted with more responsibilities than the women. The men dominate the dance. The women are humble, and tend to be pushed aside at our Dance. It is very obvious. So as a women, sweating with "the experienced" men was a definite treat.

And what a sweat it was! First we honored the rocks, and then honored our Chief. When we honored the four directions, and said the spirit invitation song. Then something extraordinary happened. The pitch dark sweat lodge was lit up with white spirit orbs, and lightening-bug-like spirit lights floated around the top of the lodge.

Rattles were rattling whizzing about
eagle-bone whistles sang
other-worldly-sounding bird songs started to sweetly chirp
a rush of air, a flapping of large wings
a unmistakable growling-hiss of cat that made your hairs stand on end
horse hoofs clack-clack-clacking
the walls of the tents shaking like someone was grabbing it from the top.

I am used to seeing these sorts of things in a lowampi ceremony done in a black room, but never have I heard of it happening in a sweat.

When you are in the sweat, it is like you are back in the womb, and in direct contact with the "invisible world", or the "great mystery" or the "divine" or whatever you want to call it. There is a shift that happens when you start the sweat, and its something that you can only feel in your bones and gut.

For me, things of this nature have always seemed real. I may have small moments of "is this for real!" but overall, experiencing it, seeing it, hearing it, feeling it and knowing the background of these people and the Chief, (who are not there to impress and make believers out of anyone), always leads me to the same conclusion. The things we heard and felt in the sweat sound silly put on paper. But it is the truth of what we experienced, or anyone, when you start to walk down the path of the "red road" that has any true medicine.

Beyond all the strange sights and sounds of the sweat (which acted to solidify that the spirits are in deed out there looking out for us), the sweat was a beautiful time for the Chief to give us guidance, and for us to pray for the people on the hill, and the people in our lives that needed help.

In our prayers out loud, I hear my husband say a little prayer for me and the baby inside of me, and the whole lodge meets his prayer with "a ho". As all the voices come together for that "a ho" it is like their voices help strengthen my husband's prayer, and it hits me like a lightening rod right through me. I am filled with so much love for my husband and appreciation of being involved in these native ways.

When it's my turn, I manage to squeak out my prayers, knowing the spirits are listening, and my community is sympathizing to my humble prayers in my small voice.

Three rounds done and it's not too hot in there, like the unbearable heat of some of the sweats. But I am pregnant, and worried about over-doing it, thereby harming the baby. Between rounds, I catch glimpses of my son sitting quietly in a camping chair in front of the fire. I know he is in good hands with Rachel, but I find my mind now overcome with worry that maybe she is tired and needs to leave, or feeling guilty for leaving her with three kids, or worried that my son will soon be upset. In order to put my women's mind at ease, I sneak out of the sweat before the last round, kissing the earth and saying mitakuye oyasin -  all my relations - on my way out.

This is why I love my life and love camping so much.

In it's unrefined idealistic state (I say this because there is also lots of drama to go with it) I feel so blessed to feel like part of a community, and one that is trying to help others, pray for others, and to better themselves.

Camping to me is much more than going out in the woods with a tent. Camping to me and my family means it is a time to have fun and to reconnect with each other, with friends, with the earth, and with spirit.

Namaste ~ Wopila

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Three Gifts to Savor for Mother's Days to Come

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Having two young children has given me many gifts. As my children grow, so will our relationship, and I know it will get complicated very quickly. This Mother's Day I am trying to savor the simple loving and trusting devotion my kids have for me right now. That is such a beautiful gift.

I love the way they look at me like I am the center of their universe. When they cry they look at me in a way that says "only you can make it stop." It did take some time to win over their trust, but I did. I know what they need and love, and if I don't, I just try to shower them in love.



This mother's day I also want to savor the lessons my young ones have taught me and vow to try and keep these lessons alive in my heart as long as I am living. 

1. Live more in the moment and less in your head. 

The important, nourishing stuff is happening right here and right now. Get off the computer, drop the phone, stop thinking about that facebook update, and look over your shoulder right into the eyes of a little soul waiting to be interacted with. Message received my babies, thank you. Now just let me finish this post...

2. It is vital to relax a bit each day, laugh, and heck, take a nap!

For me this means, stop doing, and relax for a moment. Take a break, sit on the couch, let the kids crawl all over me. I have noticed it is in those down moments, the unscripted ones, that such genuine, beautiful connections happen with my family, and with my true self.

3. It's okay to just ask for what you want. 

Don't let your wishes swim in the ocean of your body and mind. Just ask if you want something in life. Worst case, you hear a no. And if you really want it, ask again. Keep asking until you get it. I was a shy child and was afraid to speak up for myself. From observing my children, I see that my wishes are important, and I need to stand up for myself, because if I don't, likely no one else will.



Thank you my children! Back to our regular playing program...


Saturday, May 5, 2012

Getting Real about Yoga & Mothering with Ashtangi Stan Bryne



Ashtanga practitioners have a certain reputation. They generally are strong and athletic, don't mind a little bit of sweat and pain, and are extremely dedicated to get up early six days a week and practice their craft. It takes a certain kind of person.

What sort of person though, does this practice for nine months while pregnant, day in day out amidst morning sickness, body blossoming, while sharing a body with someone else?

Toronto yogini Stan Bryne is who. And she not only completely amazes me with her dedicated yoga practice, but this decade-long vegan also captures my fascination with her quirkiness, wit, and wisdom. As a former Kingergarten teacher, she has a certain lightness and playfulness about her too.

Stan not only talks the talks, but walks the walk. Just like her partner, one of my teacher's in Toronto, Stan is both sweet and humble.

Stan, or Miss Stan as she is know in the blogosphere, teaches at Ashtanga Yoga Center of Toronto (AYCT), one of the biggest Ashtanga shalas outside Mysore. She is a mother of 22 month old Holden, and partner to David Robson, the co-owner/director of AYCT.


Stan with baby Holden and David while on their trip
to Mysore India.  Photo by Tova Steiner

Knowing how challenging pregnancy and mothering can be, I was curious to see how to other yoginis are handling it.

Domestic Yogi: First things first, can you tell us what your practice was like pre-baby/pregnancy?

Stan: I think I was a sensitive student before I became pregnant. I would worry about injury a lot. Every ache and pain was a huge catastrophe. I worry less about that now, but in other ways I am still the same student. I am pretty dogged. I practice until I am exhausted, I never skip days. I am not the most talented person asana-wise. I have to work very hard at every new pose, sometimes for an embarrassingly long time. But I am consistent. I am the Capricorn of yoga students.

You were working on the second series though right?

When I became pregnant I was close to being split on intermediate (so just doing intermediate and no primary).

As a yogi, how was being pregnant for you? Did you like/not like? 

I loved being pregnant. In the first trimester, the practice really helped my morning sickness. I would walk in the door to the studio and the smell of sweaty students would make me want to throw up on everyone, but by the end of the standing poses I felt much better. I loved being able to chart the baby’s growth with a daily practice. Everyday the binds would get tighter, my toes would be further away. It was actually fun to see.

I thought I would not have as much energy or strength as I did have during my pregnancy. And I liked inversions and backbends, which I thought I would hate.

I practiced the Ashtanga primary series, a few intermediate backbends and dropbacks. I did this all the way through. I think the last week I was just doing standing and dropbacks.

What “position” did you spend most of your last trimester in? Feel free to say couch-asana. 

Haha! I should have done more couch-asana. I loved backbends. I am not that bendy, but during my pregnancy my back really opened up and I would sometimes do 10 dropbacks in a row for fun.

No kidding! Here is the proof. Watch Stan's drop backs at nine-month pregnant. 


May I note too, that Holden was 10 pounds at birth! And good to mention that Stan had a drop back practice pre-pregancy. This isn't recommended for women who did not have a regular drop back to begin with. 

And the birth, how did that go?

I’m never sure how to answer that question. It is actually something I have struggled with quite a bit since Holden was born. On one hand, if you give birth to a healthy baby and you are okay too then I guess the birth went really well. But in terms of the beautiful hippy-home birth that I dreamed of – no I didn’t have that.

Holden was two weeks late and when I went into labour I had a fever. My water broke and my midwife noticed meconium (poo) in the water so I had to go to the hospital. I labored for about 24 hours, but Holden’s head was in the wrong position for pushing and his heart rate started dropping considerably with every contraction. I tried and tried to put it off, but eventually the doctors insisted that I have a c-section because of the heart rate, my fever, and the amount of time Holden had been in utero with his own poo (they were concerned he would breathe it in and get an infection – which, actually, he did).

Ashtangis have a reputation for having difficult births. I know in birth, anything can happen – even to people who have a history of fast labors. I think my yoga practice makes me a better person and a better parent - bottom line. I don’t think my practice led me to have a difficult birth, but in retrospect I think my approach to my practice didn’t help. I was very reluctant to give anything up in my practice, I didn’t take long rests afterwards, I didn’t go easy when I was tired.

I hope I have the chance to raise another child, and if I were to do it again I would focus more on sleeping and less on holding uth pluthi for 10 breaths. 

I just had no idea how un-relaxing having kids is and how little sleep I would be operating on. Now when pregnant women ask me what they should do in their practice I tell them to do what feels right, avoid what feels yukky and go to the movies.

They say yoga practitioners are more prepared mentally/physically for birth. Do you think that is true, and do you think it helped in your case?

During labour I counted all of my breaths, which is a very ashtangi thing to do. So, certainly my practice informed my labour. I think my practice helped me get back into shape quickly after a tricky c-section.

Speaking of that, how long did it take for you to get your practice back to where you were pre-baby? What were the hardest parts?

It was probably 8 or 9 months. By 9 months postpartum I felt light and graceful again, it was a dramatic shift from slogging it out on my mat the previous 8 months. In the first 8 months after my baby was born my weight fluctuated a lot and I was more prone to injury -  hamstrings and shoulder stuff since my core was not as strong. Now I am back to the usual slogging it out. I don’t feel like I had a baby. I just have a little pink scar to remind me. Oh yeah, and a baby.

Stan, 9-months pregnant
photo by Tim Berminghan

Since your practice has come full circle, how becoming a mother changed your practice on the mat, if any? 

I noticed in the first few weeks back on the mat after Holden was born that I would be scared or nervous to try something and then a little voice in my head would say, “Whatever, you just had a baby – buck up and do it.” I am less worried about injury, and I don’t feel as attached to what happens daily on the mat. I mean, I am human and I am attached to it – I get frustrated, impatient and jealous on my mat– but less so. I feel very grateful for the opportunity to practice everyday. It is gift. Many moms have work and then homelife. But I also have a little space on the mat for myself. I am lucky. I don’t think I knew that before I had a baby.

How do you think you’ve changed off the mat (since becoming a mom)?

I am more uptight, I have less time for friends and family, I am quite rushed. Basically I have become a shittier person. But I have a crazy amount of love in my life. More then I ever imagined. I am shittier and luckier.

Ha, that is pretty honest! Tell me, what has been the toughest thing as a mother for you?

The hardest thing for me was not sleeping. Holden was a terrible sleeper for the first 18 months. Because my husband gets up at 3 every morning to practice I was on night duty. Not sleeping makes everything so hard. There were times I felt so fragile, sad and angry and then every parenting issue becomes so much more troublesome. I almost don’t want to talk about how I am sleeping now because I don’t want to jinx it and go back to staying up all night praying the baby will sleep.

Tell me about a poignant moment you’ve had in the last day or two with your son – good or bad.

We have lots of fun together. This morning, I thought he might like to graduate from his high chair into a booster seat. So we took the stroller to the store and picked out a booster seat and a book. He read the book on the way home. I made lunch and he ate it in his new booster seat. He was very cool about the whole thing but I could tell he was proud of himself. I like it when we find the right moment to take a step forward and it feels effortless. Sometimes, I try to push things on him too soon. I want him to be brilliant and quick to learn and always ahead of the curve. But that doesn’t really make any sense because my deepest wish for him is to be happy, not the greatest at sitting on the potty or whatever. Ultimately, he is always the best guide.

I suppose you can draw an analogy to Ashtanga there. The practice is our guide and it will change us when we are ready to be changed, despite what we feel we should, could or ought to be doing.

You can read more about Stan and the benefits and pitfalls of raising a vegan family, in Today's Parent Magazine.