Last weekend I taught a three day continuous education programme for yoga teachers. One of the emerging statements, which had a lot of gravity, was: "the middle is difficult".  
 
Throughout this week I have been feeling that this is so true for many people including myself. It's easy to move one way or another. The middle ground is so much more difficult, since it requires feeling into the body a lot more. Going to one extreme or another does not require sensing into the body; these responses are often more habitual and guided by our head and ultimately seeking some sense of control. Being German I like things to be neat, black and white and generally I enjoy order. It's however in the less defined areas, in the grey ones where we can find the most growth and a lot of creativity - and most importantly a sense of contentment and equilibrium.
 
Hang out in the beautiful middle!
Sandra  ​

I've been observing over the past two to three weeks what's been moving within me and also within the people I've been working with and the theme of being in "limbo" has emerged. It's the strange "in-between" state where we leave the old behind and are about to embark on the new, but have not quite taken the steps yet for whatever reason. Someone else described it as "being on the edge" with the sense of uncertainty around where we are heading and whether we'd like to move forward or not. Often previously dealt with patterns come up strongly and try to call us back. Very old challenges might surface and there is a sense that we've taken multiple steps backwards. Frequently it is in the moment we feel the most lost that we are about to enter the new and a huge shift is going to happen.
 
My personal challenge has been to hang out in the state of limbo trusting the process and knowing that something big is going to move.
 
Walk in beauty
Sandra​

As we are transitioning into autumn with the weather starting to change and the nights drawing in, I feel it's a good time to reflect on what we can let go of. In the four directions, a ceremony we do in Forrest Yoga, autumn is placed in the West. It's the location of where the sun goes down, where things come to an end and also where death resides. It's the season where the trees shed their leaves and prepare for winter. It's the season of letting go.
 
I've started to read Marie Kondo's book "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying". The author suggests that the first step in tidying is to "discard" and the criteria to choose whether to discard an item or not is: "Does this spark joy?". It's so simple and yet so profound. She says that if an item sparks joy, keep it, if it doesn't, throw it away. One of the ongoing learnings for me is to make my life simpler and I'm very excited and curious about applying this principle to more areas of my life.
 
What is it in your life that you can let go of? What does not spark joy in your life?
 
Tidy in beauty.
Sandra

In Ana Forrest's book "Fierce Medicine", she talks in the first chapter about her "fear training", i.e. she would deliberately do things that she was afraid of. She came to the conclusion that even though it was not possible to banish all her fears, she was able to make a choice to not allow them to rule her life.
 
When I was on holidays last week at the lake in Northern France where we always go, my 65 year old father did a backward somersault into the water. I remembered how I used to do this as a child. So, I decided to get up on the platform, which was about one meter of the water - with my back facing the lake. I could sense the fear; it almost made my head spin.

​ I first just jumped backwards into the water feet first and then did a couple of backward rolls in the water. Then I went back onto the platform and I stood there - very scared. I was feeling the fear in my entire body and there was a sense of paralysis and indecision creeping up on me, which in some respect was a great motivation for me.

I completely understand Ana's decision not to allow fear to rule her life, so I connected to my legs and feet, took several deep breaths, pushed off and did a backward somersault. It was not the kind that earns you points at gymnastics. It was definitely not pretty, but it was totally and utterly exhilarating. It was not about being able to do a somersault, which did not alter my life, it was about doing something that I'm very scared of. I felt the fear and did it anyways. In my mind possibilities opened up, I felt empowered.
 
Ana's steps to walking through the "spook zone":

1. Identify the fear
2. Turn around, hunt it, stalk it
3. Stop making decisions based on fear
4. Find the healing within the fear
5. Snuggle up to your fear

 
... and do the somersault anyways.
 
Somersault in beauty
Sandra

I have written about the experience of overwhelm in the last blog, but I've been very compelled to write some more about it, because it is something that is so prevalent in myself and also in the people I work with.
 
Last week the first half of the Forrest Yoga Teacher Training finished and one of the things I always tell trainees at the end is to leave enough space to digest the content and the experiences of the programme. Often, the tendency is to get back home and into a routine as quickly as possible. There is no downtime or in body psychotherapy terms there is no "downswing". The nervous is continually fired up without chance for the body to actually absorb what has been learned and experienced. There is not enough space to absorb fully and get nourished. Creating space and keeping that space is something I continually have to pay attention to. It is not something that comes natural to me.  
 
As one of the people I work with very aptly said:  

Over Christmas and New Year my parents kindly invited our family to go skiing. My mum also generously paid for some private skiing lessons. I decided to go back to the instructor I had some lessons with the previous year. He's an excellent instructor and able to see very clearly and deeply not just how I ski, but also how I live my life. It's amazing how accurate the following principle is: How we do one thing, we do everything.  
 
The instructor told me to let the snow take me somewhere without going completely passive. He observed that I force my skiing and that I like to be in control. I have been thinking about this a lot. How can I let life take me somewhere without forcing matters and without giving up altogether or going completely passive? On the slopes, when I manage to let the snow take me somewhere, the feeling is one of cooperation and collaboration, which is coupled with a sense of deep connection; it is about the skill, but it's also about the mountain and the snow. It's about working together, trusting and not fighting against what is. The skiing then becomes effortless, fluid and joyful.
 
I very strongly feel that it is the same in life. When we let life take us somewhere and we participate actively in the process, it becomes effortless and meaningful. I'll invite you to do just that: Cooperate with life, let it take you somewhere and let go of some of the control and the need to force things.
 
Walk with ease, joy and beauty into 2019.

When I was teaching the Forrest Yoga retreat in Prince Albert, I challenged myself by bringing in a new fairy tale. I love working with stories, as they speak to us on a very deep level. On the third day of the retreat, I picked the "Frog Prince", which was fairy tale I had not previously used. Unlike the modern version of the fairy tale, the one by the brothers Grimm does not involve kissing the frog.  
 
The transformation happens when the princess throws the frog against the wall. In that moment when the frog hits the wall and before he touches the ground he transforms into a prince. In that moment where things could not be much worse, the metamorphosis happens. Sometimes the moment where we might feel that we have metaphorically speaking hit the wall, the point where we feel we are at our lowest, that might be the moment of fundamental change and transformation.  
 
I feel it's about re-framing - not pushing down or suppressing - the difficult moments: being patient with feeling what is and understanding the metamorphosis will happen at the most surprising moments where we least expect it.
 
During this year of deep rooted change, where a lot of us re-evaluate our priorities and re-visit our visions, paying attention to the moments we just want to push away or get through, might hold incredible potential for turning the pain and struggle into something extraordinary.

September is one of my most favourite months of the year and I feel it's a good time to reflect. The change of the season is palpable - with the nights getting longer and the sun rise happening just a little later every day. With the autumn equinox on the 23rd of September (in the UK) the shift in season is clearly marked. At this particular moment, the sun crosses the celestial equator; and the Earth's rotational axis is neither tilted away from nor towards the sun. For me, it's a moment of stillness and contemplation, especially given the tumultuous energies during 2018 and especially during the last three months.
 
Reflecting on the year so far, I've been very interested in the more widely observed patterns and the collective energy. What is emerging across the board? What are the energies that are moving through us? Words that have sprung to mind and have been reflected back to me by various people are: re-calibration, reset, reboot, major shifts. I feel that there is a deep dismantling of the old, especially long-term relationships, both intimate and business, including organisations and communities. For myself, I have had two major changes this year - related to my training as a body psychotherapist and to business - and in both instances, it was out of my hands and I was presented with the changes; i.e. it was out of my control and that is not an easy place for me to be in. My task has been to feel all there is to feel with regards to the changes, such as the hurt, grief, anger and betrayal, but staying away from blaming, including blaming myself, or needing to do something about it. My intent throughout this quite difficult time has been to stay vulnerable, to stay open and to trust the process - that out of the chaos and the dismantling something beautiful and very different can emerge, which would not have been possible in the old structures. It's also a great opportunity for healing the deeper places inside of me and to invite different energies into my life, such as lightness, space and excitement.
 
If you are also in the midst of some fundamental and what might seem very destructive changes, trust the process. Trust that we are exactly where we meant to be and that the dismantling and collapsing of our lives and relationships is part of the process of creating something new, exciting and beautiful - with more vibrancy.