Keep your carrots - I don't like them!

We were asked to think of a metaphor to describe the experience of teacher training so far. "Surfing" was mentioned as well as "Sex" … exhilarating at times, needs practise and it can be tricky to get it right.

Taking a step back and looking at not only my experience with teaching - e.g. standing in front of a class teaching MY subject - but at the whole setting of this experience, I could not help but feel like an over packed donkey with a ridiculous load strapped on my back and an overweight rider digging his heels into my sides. To get me going a sad little carrot is dangling in front of me, trying to motivate me to walk up a path that is the fastest, not most sensible way to the top.

"Where is the positive in that metaphor?" I hear the lecturer asking the one student who compared her experience to the arena of the "Hunger Games". There was none. Actually, here is the real problem I am facing packed in one confrontation: Why trying to find the positives of swimming in a sewer?

Coming from the lecturer there was a faint, understated acknowledgement of the experience being difficult, but in the same breath a solution was offered - a positive attitude! That will carry us through the (difficult, challenging, crazy busy) time ahead. Between the lines the message was clear: "Shut up and get on with it…" followed by a tired "...we are in the same boat and cannot change any of it even if you are moaning and we understand."

Feeling like an overloaded donkey, I listen to the input telling me how I could link my lessons with other subject areas cross-curricular to make my contributions to the education of the nation even more worthwhile; so the load is getting heavier as I am listening. The carrots dangling in front of my nose come in form of grades, job prospects or merely verbal patting on the back for withstanding an ever-growing flood of targets seemingly unharmed. Keep your carrots! I don't want them.

I happily take on board ALL those fantastic suggestions, incorporate them into my plans, translate them into outstanding teaching, making the school experience of children fun and engaging. I do enjoy working with children. I still believe they are the most precious aspect in changing the world and I feel privileged to listen to their ideas, sense their wanting to do well and make something out of their lives. It's a brilliant experience.

What is not brilliant is the initiation into this process of education, neither is the process of education in itself. To offer another metaphor education (at university level as well as school level) is treating people like we do our food. We force-grow it in horrid conditions to harvest an end-product that might look like a tomato, but lacks flavour and substance. The process is defined by time-pressures, production targets and quality assurance dictates the shape of the outcome. Nothing in this is natural.

I dare to say that teaching is not all that difficult and certainly not impossible to master - it even could be exciting if the parameters were different. I know my cohort will grown naturally into fantastic teachers because they care, they want to do well, they like working with children and they feel passionate about their subject. Given time and nurture they can become ripe, plump and juicy tomatoes (or any other fruit or veg they fancy being!) as that is what they decided to be. Why beat people in the process and develop them under taxing conditions and try to sell it as "surfing" or "sex"? It is not. It's messed up and I don't want to sweet-talk it, looking for positive aspects of it to distract from the screaming faults in the system!

It's a well-established, complex and stuck process. The fact that we are asked to focused on the positives and the prospects that we can expect after years of scrutiny and endless hours of work simply shows that everybody is aware of the sickening processes going on. Yet, instead of adopting a vocal, critical French way (cultural stereotype thrown in!!) demanding a revolution, eyebrows are raised for the lack of positivity. Hence, in a "keep-calm-and-carry-on" manner we are asked to soldier on for the queen and fatherland in a battlefield of exploding targets, mine-fields of opinions and ongoing scrutiny without asking if this is a "war" worth fighting.

On purpose do I compare my journey now with a battlefield - an excessive metaphor. Our experience of teacher training was contrasted with Nelson Mandela's journey towards freedom to highlight how much worst it could be and that we should adopt some of his resilience in the months to come.

I refrain from engaging in this further as it would result in another page of blog-entry.

The bottom line is that we are creating our reality and a lot of how we experience reality is dependant upon our take on things. Thus, I decided I don't want carrots, I am no pack-donkey and I shall take from this experience what works for me and remain critical of what does not work in the hope that even more people than the 50% of teacher trainees that drop out of teaching within the first 5 years, stand up and stop perpetuating a system that is foul.

Yours,
a shook-up Urban Yogi

impatience of the heart

Sitting down to write a blog entry a book title of a novel I have been trying to read caught my eye: "Ungeduld des Herzens" by Stefan Zweig translates into "impatience of the heart". In this moment I recognised a common thread running through today. On several occasions I saw the longing in people's hearts for something. This longing was often linked to external factors - living abroad, a new home, a fresh love; all of those things promising something.

Is it the promise of becoming closer to who we truly are, to find a peace we sense is inside us?

Back home a friend wished me that 2014 will unfold smoothly for me - be "easy". Yet today I sincerely told another friend that with all it's challenges, shadows, dry spells and frustration  I am not wishing a "better" year than 2013. It was a tough year, no doubt, but it was needed. My internal struggles and changes manifested in the outside and it was messy. Now, at the beginning of 2014 I am open to what comes... not actually having a plan other than a picture in my heart, a sense of what my truth is/"looks like" is okay.

Don't get me worng, there are a few things in the configuartion of my external life that made me wonder what internal wiring might be hooked up incorrectly. For instance I pushed myself to my physical limits, in spite of the awareness of that danger I got sucked into a hectic, unhealthy system. The faulty wiring I identfied as me wanting to meet the external success criteria (good girl program!)above my own validation. In addition my "ENOUGH" button is not working well - it needs a lot of pushing before the light goes on (Tyroleans are tough program!).

In these slow winter days - dark, rainy and stromy - I was able to retreive my balance. With it came the recognition that all I am impatient for is to live my life according to my values, at a pace healthy for me and in tune with what matters... it's certainly not about targets or evaluations. It is also not about the external factors per se, although a calmer environment to London feels in line with a balanced life. More than all of that the impatience in my heart can be stilled simply by being with myself, by being me and allowing the time for life to unfold.

In my dialect we have got a saying that translates as "I don't feel myself anymore" (I g'spiar mi nimme)... once I am out of touch with my body, my senses, my self, then I am in a bad place as I lost peace and confidence in life. Without this sensation I grow impatient, sensing something is missing.

That is the moment to claim one's time and listen to what the heart has to say, what it desires beyond the external comfort we long for too.

Writing those lines I feel that this could be THE learning of 2014 for me.

With that in mind I shall boil the kettle and drink some tea!

Yours,

Are Navel Gazers bad people?

One statement a friend put on fb, as she was reflecting on her life at the end of 2013, stuck with me as the dawn of 2014 broke: Enough navel gazing!

With the briefest thought of "is this directed at people like me?" flashing through my mind I asked myself am I a Navel Gazer? By definition, navel-gazing is "complacent concentration on oneself or a single issue at the expense of a wider view." With relief I came to the conclusion that no, I am not a Navel Gazer, but only just. I feel my self-indulgence of writing about a journey, MY journey, towards finding balance in life has come with a critical take on my and other people's actions and has by no means come at the expense of a wider view of things - at times because others have thrown these "wider" views at me!

Nonetheless, I must say these blog entries have evolved around my navel, my universe, me. So I looked at a second definition of the term in question and it states... "Excessive introspection, self-absorption, or concentration on a single issue". No, I don't scrape past that definiton with a blog dedicated to one single quest - living in the heart (e.g. in balance with oneself and thus the world). At this point I have got to ask not only myself, as that would be navel-gazingly inappropriate but everybody, if "Navel-Gazers" are bad people?

Many people fight to protect their  navel, their world and what it entails, mainly out of fear, to not be confronted with what is out of line in their lives. Walking through life blinkered like a horse, to stay on a track that has been decided once upon a time and has since been ignorantly followed, is what I associate with navel-gazing.

Seldom is navel-gazing applied for liberation, as I want to argue I do. Throughout 2013 I have met people who fought to break free from hindering structures (be it physicalor mental ones) to live their facon of life, or at least to come closer to living it. Certainly my friend would have to agree that a degree of adoration for one's navel is surely appropriate and must not be put on par with the insular depiction of navel-gazing she has - quite rightly - criticised in her post.

For this very reason I conclude that
a) not all Navel Gazers are bad people,
b) navel-adoartion is indeed okay and
c) I shall continue on to indulge in sharing my thoughts with the aspiration of liberation.

An openly navel-adoring Urban Yogi

Vive le nombrilisme!

(http://a400.idata.over-blog.com/500x304/1/82/93/34/NOMBRILISTE.jpg)

...& a B.A.L.A.N.C.E.D 2014 to you all!

the hardest time...

Never have I been pushed to my limits the way I have been in 2013... to my limits and beyond. On so many levels has my perception of reality been challenged since this day last year when I touched upon the essence of us all. It's what sparked not only this (more infrequent than intended) blog but major changes in my life. Nothing is like it has been in December 2012; not the way I look at myself, not the way I see the world, not the way I live; all is fuller, richer, deeper, wider, denser, liberated, more connected, real and alive than I ever recall it being.

Yet living this way results in continuous, "hard" work - ongoing work on myself because everything relates, matters, is a teaching. This level of awareness is taxing as it feels impossible to be put into words... hence, I try to live as an exmaple. However, when facing people who are buying into a limiting reality, when dealing with systems that stifle and break people to fit toxic moulds, I am struggling to keep going. I see it's nonesense. I feel it is wrong and hurtful to our essence. Yes, to replenish I revisit this place of unity but it becomes the hardest task the longer I swim in this swamp of competition, targets, force growing and depletion.

Moreover, the responsibility of looking inwardly when facing a reality I don't believe in anymore feels at time draining because it demands of me to resolve my remaining issues, release myself from this sticky bondage we socially constructed. A person recently told me to "stop being so reflective"; if I did I would turn towards dodgy TV, meaningless activities and distractions to work even harder on ignoring the truth - an alternative I have left this day last year.

It takes calm, quiet, emptiness and peace to allow for reflection and insights to be revealed. Holding such a space of serenity whilst also finding ways of relating to others is a balancing act. I am having the hardest time to be on the tightropes and keep going. The developments of this year have stretched me so far that I don't feel like the same me anymore, but as an extended me. Without the experience of being one that I had, the revelation I felt with my all, I could not still continue on staying in this madness.

I hold trust.

Madness, some might think now to do what I am doing. Foolish to do this if it is soooo hard. Stop it. Shouldn't "living int he heart" enable things to be dany and easy?

We came to a point where our fear of the difficult parts of living paralyse our growth.
We hide in our cosiness that cotton-wraps us from any bumps real life might causes.
We stifle growth, real learning and transformation this way.

Quirky, is what people like to see... something that is different but still within the scope of their "normality". Mad is what people label things that they cannot comprehend. So they try to fix it, bend it, mend it, normalise it to not stir up their perception of reality.

I do not want to make it out to be easy and dandy to be oneself, to risk beeing seen as mad whilst pushing the boundaries. It is not. I am having the hardest time of my life. I have never been so worn out in my life.

But isn't every birth a messy, painful process as it is stretching the flesh toward it's limits, tearing skin and pushing the boundaries? In the moment when we feel we cannot go on anymore, cannot take any more, when new life has pushed the old to the limits then it is time for that magical moment: birth.

With that trust I am enduring this time, as I know the result will be beautiful.

With blood, sweat and the occasional tear
Sarah,

an Urban Yogi.

Facing One's Ghosts.

Every year on the 1st of November I stood next to my family on the graveyard looking down on the names engraved in stone, remembering the ones who came before us while the mumbling prayers of the priest were filling the background, this vast space of death, this friable scene.
 
Yet there was something in this dire day that I liked. I grew up with many ghosts haunting the walls of my family home. Untold stories, repressed memories and the cold wind of guilt coming from catholic values that acted like chains one never dared to question. That one day a year it felt the ghosts were out in the light not haunting me in the darkness of the night or the stifling, bitter cellar. The crippling rules and what they were hiding made me choke, gasping for air on behalf of the ones who came before.
 
On the 1st of November I could face my ghost in broad daylight, face the suffering, the pain, all carried in silence. There and then I could always see what we essentially are – human, fallible and driven by raw nature – beautiful and perfect in that.
 
Our biggest mistake is that we are trying to change who we essentially are. We are thriving towards an image of ourselves that is much like a priest mumbling prayers and rules in the remote, dark, covered places of our psyche. Mostly we do not know we have adopted those mindsets of not being ‘good enough’ just as we are, right now, in every moment. If we cannot embrace all our dark sides, our shortcomings and love ourselves for it, our attempts for change will always result in failure. Why? Don’t we have to ‘better’ ourselves, become MORE, the best version of ourselves that we can be?
 
This thriving is built on a model of shortcoming, I realised looking into my own judgemental eyes. A thinking that we are not perfect the way we are rotts away our confidence, our love, our lifeforce. I know because I have been indoctrinated with that from even before a time when I can even recall my thoughts – in the believe that we can reach a version that is finally ‘good enough’, worth loving. We are waiting for a day when we look in the mirror with admiration and love for the person who is gazing back at us. Until then we beat ourselves up, analyse situations, looking for solutions to this puzzle of what the best version of us might look like, what needs changing before that day of self-love can come. It’s a mission impossible. What we think we ought to be changes daily, changes by the minute, and we almost tear ourselves apart trying to fulfil all the points of that tick-list towards lovable perfection, that we and our histories created.
 
The ghosts, the patterns, the beliefs are only brought to light in moments when we are pushed too far. In those moments of ugliness and pain when we struggle cause we have not got any ounce of energy left to sustain this illusion. In those moments we do we grasp the paradox of searching for a better self. The ties and knots that hold us in place to function every day paralyse us in being truthfully us. Standing on the graveyard every 1^st of November for me was a chance to sense all of those muddles and entanglements, burdens and wanting people carried with them to the grave, because they wanted for themselves a better life than the ones who they were faced with. I sympathise with them for I did the same for a long while.
 
Then for once I dared to live my truth, my inner self, the one that is flawed, and look down at my ancestors in the grave and I said – you were perfect the way you were; you did the best you could given the rotten circumstances; I am grateful you soldiered on in the worst of moments; and I don’t care you made mistakes, because I love. Becoming who we truly are is only possible once we love everything about ourselves. Once we accept that where we came from is perfect and hold ourselves for having carried on through all winds and weathers we might actually stand a chance to be happy, love and embrace life.

‘I have sent you my invitation,
The note inscribed on the palm of my hand by the fire of living.
Don’t jump up and shout, “Yes, this is what I want! Let’s do it!”
Just stand up quietly and dance with me!.
(The Dance - Oriah Mountain Dreamer)
 
It is in the quiet moments we sense what is truly us, our essence, we hear the invitation to the life we are born to live. Once you hear it you simply stand up and dance.
 
With love and adoration for all the strong women in my line – thank you for the gift of life! I promise to be me, pushing forwards, deeper into my essence, facing hurt and pain alongside song, dance and laughter. A song to the ones I love:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7Tkj9o-uQo

With all my love,
Yours
 
 

Sehnsucht nach Mehr - Yearning for More

In German the "Mehr" (More) sounds the same as "Meer" (Sea)... I have the urge to submerge myself into the sea, yearn for immersion into the deep dark waters to escape the demands of the everyday; I also want more from life, sense there is something missing. Thus this title in German as it just encompasses both.

Yesterday, while sitting amongst a circle of women, we were sharing age-old cellular wisdom that is beautiful but more than that felt so natural to us women (if that caught your attention I highly recommend Jewels Wingfield's workshops!). Once we connect with our whombs - yes, there is wisdom in this alien place! - we have a direct link to nature, everything natural and our mother, earth. Experiencing it felt unblievably good. Reconnected with sex, the cyclical, sisterhood, nature and simple wisdom, I opened up to my own inner voice. At one point I recognised that what drives me in life is not something that is tangible or clear. I am driven by my intuition, the feeling that there is something more, something else in me that wants to be explored and I give myself in to that.

There is no linear path, clear route I feel I can take through life. Instead I am driven by my senses. Rationally, choices stemming from this place might not apprear to make sense. Instead of looking for an explanation I immerse myself into the chaos of the deep waters, waters we know so well from our time in the whomb, to see where the current is taking me, what shore I might be washed up on. Once I am there it will slowly begin to make sense - the brain is usually the last to catch up! If we can find a connection again with this chaos, darkness, emotions and the wild, we women can reclaim our true power - to me that is the connection with the ultimate truth of nature, for it's gift is trust.

In spite of all the chaos and mess in my life, that used to make me question my sanity, I now trust the process, I trust life. It might not appear natural as we are used to straight lines, clear goals and tangible targets, but that is not how life operates. The challenge is to find love for oneself because it will help to trust one's inner guidance, trust that it is okay the way it is, messy or not.

I would have plenty more to say, about the need for women to connect, stop competing and start sharing as well as the important role of men in all of this. Instead I leave it at this today as I fancy some yoga and a hot bath whilst enjoying the rain knocking on the bathroom window.

So here a wonderful poem that captures the essence of women wonderfully and with those words I would like to say "Thank You" to all the beautiful women in my life!

Dear Woman ~

Woman,
You belong to the night.
You have blood on your thighs
and fuhrze in your hair.
You smell of loamy fertile soil.
Your breasts give life,
Your sex is a mystery school
leading to the holy of holies.

Turn your eyes inward,
use owls vision to see where you come from.
Slip beneath the surface,
and feel yourself become full.

Make a marriage to the moon.

Divorce the false gods of intellect and reason.
Find meaning in your dreams
and in the secrets of your body.

Follow no authority -
but your own true nature.

Make a sacred fire
and throw on it all that you would use to harm yourself.
Make kindling from shame.

Let your dance be wild,
your voice be honest
and your heart untame.

Be cyclical,
don't make sense..

Initiate yourself
Initiate yourself

By Aisha Wolfe

 

beauty of women

When I walk the streets, looking around me I see plenty of beautiful, stunning women. Very rarely do I see women coming together without their masks - pure, sensual, loud, dancing, laughing, crying, being emotional and supportive of each other.

At the workshop run by Jewels Wingfield http://www.jewelswingfield.com/ I had the joy of experiencing such a gathering. An attic in the heart of London was filled with female divinity, bringing to life what this new energy is about - a coming together, laying down of masks and forgetting about competition. I cannot even begin to explain with words what emotions the encounters with other beauties evoked and I don't want to make sense of it - it merely felt awesome. It was refreshing to not trying to understand, to let the mind rest and surrender to the sensations my body was flooded with.

First, women, let go of competition - it is a concept that stops us from embracing each other for we are all beautiful in our essence. We are nature, we carry the secrets to life. Jewels put it poignantly when she said that as society we have to recognised that we cannot take too much of the earth, that we must look after her. Let's do the same for each other, for ourselves, for women who are trying to be everything at once! There and then I recognised the importance and urgency for us women to help one another through the pains we carried, the traumas and the impossibilities we have faced in trying to be like men and remain women at the same time (not that men have got it much easier trying to be real men in this day and age!).

We all carry male and female but in this life I embody one: the feminine. I love to be supported by men and we should love them, but only once we come to love ourselves for what we are: women.

Hurt women, Sexual women, Emotional Women, Wild Women, Beautiful Women, Strong Women. And in this we came together on Saturday, seeing each other purely. It is an extremely powerful, vulnerable way of being that holds such greatness that we are now beginning to explore in these new times.

Meeting those sisters made me believe in the new times ahead as I looked the change in the eyes, danced with it, encouraged it in joint expressions of joy and pain. Wonderful. A beautiful future is ahead.

Thank you Jewels for this experience!
Much love,
From me to you.