<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:47:05.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>think it</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-8528847335267509208</id><published>2009-06-17T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T07:18:13.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 25 - Reflecting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I was talking to an old friend one day while shopping at Home Depot (yes, I’m the kind of person who shops, the way my wife might at Barneys, at Home Depot). Anyway I realize that I was fishing to make trouble, you know asking around so that she would agree with me and we could rant about that event or person. In other words I wanted to gossip. Of course when she (out of my surprise) didn’t confirm the same feelings as me, I decided to go off on whoever the person was we were talking about. After my rant, she went off on me. It shocked me, and I was left speechless, just listening. I decided I was not going to interrupt or get defensive, but I would hear what she was saying. I did and I remember to this day what she said that I was the one not doing yoga, not being reflective.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I would lie if I said it didn’t sting. I would also lie if I didn’t hang up and think, “Me, I’m the one who’s not reflective, not doing yoga? What about all of you?” But there was truth in what she said. There had to have been, it was after all people’s opinions about me and my actions. If they were hurt by my actions then I would say I was equally hurt by theirs. But what does that do for me or anyone? It’s just like the need to gossip or put someone down for the sake of confirming your own actions, feelings or success. There was a time in my life when I was so good at turning the conversation against someone and then keeping the company who all agreed. All that we did was confirm all of our fear, anger, anxiety and unhappiness. It worked for a moment, like a drug to forget or escape your own misery, but it wore off and then you had to do it again. So I decided it was time for me to release that pattern and all those feelings that I was holding on to and that were being held on to about me apparently by others. I thought it was unfair that your life choices couldn’t be yours, but I understand that my choices aren’t just mine because they do affect others. It seems unfair, but I would much rather live a life where what I do means something to someone else, rather than live a life where my actions have no meaning other than for myself. But I never really did do anything to make amends, so here it goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;To all of you who know who you are, I want to say that you all hold very dear places in my heart. I think of you and remember beautiful and fun times, transformational and educational experiences. I hold great respect for your commitments to a path that is not easy nor popular, and I hold great gratitude for the support you gave me. My life would not be what it is now without all of you. I am sorry if my actions affected you, they were done out of necessity and desire. I had to move for my own sake, for the health of my heart and those near me. I was getting toxic and poisonous to those in my vicinity. It was not what I desired and I knew that I wasn’t doing my yoga. I moved on not because you did anything wrong, but because I had to for me. I was taught to follow your heart and when you do it will make the people around you better. I hope, even in my absence, that you all are better because I am following my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-8528847335267509208?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/8528847335267509208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=8528847335267509208' title='42 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8528847335267509208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8528847335267509208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-25-reflecting.html' title='Day 25 - Reflecting'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>42</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-148185955962993010</id><published>2009-06-15T18:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T18:36:17.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 24 - Searching</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/Sjb28A72MSI/AAAAAAAAADI/322tQs8xcQE/s1600-h/DSC00684.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/Sjb28A72MSI/AAAAAAAAADI/322tQs8xcQE/s200/DSC00684.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347733118452642082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The day started with Beck playing his favorite game - take the cable card out of the cable box. Usually I’m right on top of him and grab it from him, but today I had put in a new Baby Einstein DVD and left him to make my playlist for this morning (well not exactly left him, I was sitting 5 feet from him). My playlist was called “gone missing,” which was exactly what happened to it right as I completed it. I thought I was erasing one song, but instead erased the whole playlist. Oh well, that’s what I get for naming a playlist “gone missing.” I reconstructed the playlist, but the cable card was still gone. All day long, no cable card. Where did he put it? Where did it go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;All I could think of all day is how much time we spend looking for things including, and maybe most importantly, the moment when, of course, it is there all the time - right in front of us, inside us and all around us. I kept looking for the card all day long, until I realized that the looking became the point, not the finding. At that point I stopped making finding the card the point and just enjoyed the search. Still haven’t found it, but I guess the searching is the point (or is that to get the point). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-148185955962993010?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/148185955962993010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=148185955962993010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/148185955962993010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/148185955962993010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-24-searching.html' title='Day 24 - Searching'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/Sjb28A72MSI/AAAAAAAAADI/322tQs8xcQE/s72-c/DSC00684.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-7699132765585130391</id><published>2009-06-14T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T06:53:47.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 23 - Innovative</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/SjUAmUC9IxI/AAAAAAAAACo/e7bTc63vphA/s1600-h/john_headshot_miami_2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/SjUAmUC9IxI/AAAAAAAAACo/e7bTc63vphA/s320/john_headshot_miami_2009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347180790788465426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In turning my perspective to the other side, I figured I would start in the place where I was taught to “look for the good.” The idea of these posts is to compliment, but not just for the sake of being nice, but rather to be genuine. I always say to the teachers I train, “Don’t just hand out compliments to be nice, but give it to them because the deserve it.” So my exercise right now is to look into my soul and see the real good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;John Friend is one of my greatest teachers of all time. He is one of the great innovators of yoga and I was fortunate enough to be a product of his innovations. His skill and insight helped shaped me into the person I am today. He taught me more about yoga, asana, meditation, pranayama and the business of yoga than anyone else I have ever had as a teacher. He mentored me like I was his little brother with love and care. John is a master orator, practitioner and visionary. His magnanimous, charismatic, quite frankly, contagious (in a good way). He draws you in to believe in yourself and life. His energy is powerful. When you are near him, you don’t want to leave him. So, today I celebrate John for being one of this world’s greatest yogis in all aspects of what yoga is - physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. Thank you John.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-7699132765585130391?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/7699132765585130391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=7699132765585130391' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7699132765585130391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7699132765585130391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-23-innovative.html' title='Day 23 - Innovative'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/SjUAmUC9IxI/AAAAAAAAACo/e7bTc63vphA/s72-c/john_headshot_miami_2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-4251958900160376417</id><published>2009-06-13T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T08:15:14.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 22 - Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/SjPCPfI_sPI/AAAAAAAAACg/n_3uTO0BdDI/s1600-h/190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/SjPCPfI_sPI/AAAAAAAAACg/n_3uTO0BdDI/s320/190.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346830753931964658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;First, thank you for your comments and great support to my last blog. I’ve made it a commitment to just be honest, and the internal response is an unbelievable spaciousness. To put my feelings out there into the world for anyone to take is not doubt scary, but more I’m giving them away and it is that that is so liberating. I remember my one of my teachers always saying the things that are most valuable to us are essentially the things we give away (think of a father giving away his daughter in marriage). The feelings and experiences that I share are truly meaningful to me, whether they are holding me back or pushing me forward, I covet them. But now I am giving them away as the richest part of myself. Scary or not I feel like I have to, but more I want to. I know there are many other things to myself that I can improve upon, after all we all can (so I’m not alone in that), and I will continue to process and grow. But now I am ready for new beginnings which have already been happening, only I’m now ready to step into that fully. My new beginnings start with the idea of each day looking to celebrate someone else. I want to shift my perspective of the yoga culture that was tainted by my previous experiences. I want to see the gifts of everyone and their strengths, beauty and offerings that they supply to so many. After finally getting my deepest feelings of failure, envy and anger out of me (well out there at least), I have the space to bring in the gifts of others. So here I go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I bought my friend David Romanelli’s new book yesterday, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline ; letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Yeah Dave’s Guide To Livin’ The Moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;, (&lt;a href="http://www.yeahdave.com/"&gt;http://www.yeahdave.com&lt;/a&gt;). David is a teacher in Santa Monica. I guy I met one year in Tucson while assisting one of John’s workshops. I remember him because I was told he was an owner/founder of At One Yoga, the largest set of studios in the Phoenix/Scottsdale area. That of course impressed me and so I felt the need to both give him attention and check him out. Did he stand up to his title? That was me back then, young and dumb enough to think that your physical practice said everything about you. Dave’s practice was fine, but not “owner of large, successful studio” worthy. So I dismissed his capabilities, which meant I just dismissed him and put him with the long list of others who I deemed similar to Dave. Of course throughout the years I heard of Dave and his Yoga + Chocolate workshops. Jealousy is a terrible emotion because instead of thinking, “that’s cool,” “I thought how’s that yoga?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Fast forward... In January I was back in LA. I was now older and I wish I could say wiser, but I had gone through my reincarnations. I was forging my new relationships and new identity. I was in LA co-leading a teacher training. I thought I would check out some yoga in Santa Monica, but my cynical yoga mind was still too strong (remember it was only a few days ago I gave away my feelings, so cut me some slack!). My wife’s best friend said she was going to Dave’s class and why don’t we meet her there. I thought “Okay, I know Dave.” It probably wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I like the person he is. So off we went. It was a fine asana class, and his music rocked as did his pre-inaugural message. At one point though I thought, “He’s more like a DJ then yoga teacher.” We talked a little before and after class. It was really nice to reconnect. He new of my happenings and wanted to get the inside story to my experiences. You know, what did the Kool-Aid taste like? Why did I spit it out? Stuff like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Just yesterday I decided to give his book a chance and in doing so I’ve opened up to a tremendous amount of appreciation, admiration and love for Dave. It is a great book of honesty, humor and powerful teaching from a guy who is very intelligent, compassionate and experienced. He’s a real guy doing his best and in reading his book I would like to call him not just a friend, but a teacher for me. So here’s my big shout out to “Yeah Dave,” and my big lesson that if I go in with an open mind then I might just find out what it means to really participate and share in this world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-4251958900160376417?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/4251958900160376417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=4251958900160376417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4251958900160376417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4251958900160376417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-24-beginnings.html' title='Day 22 - Beginnings'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/SjPCPfI_sPI/AAAAAAAAACg/n_3uTO0BdDI/s72-c/190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-8724860638647888263</id><published>2009-06-11T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T07:13:21.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 20 - Erased</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;After my last blog, I’ve been thinking. Thinking about what I wrote and if it were true. What do I have to start admitting to? So I got on my mat, my meditation cushion, my car seat, basically anywhere where I could think, be and possibly discover. I’ve gone through a list, but today as I sat down to go through some emails, which led me to one website then another, checking curiously at people I once taught, it dawned on me what has hurt me so much. For years I was celebrated in a community as a leading teacher. Circumstances played out and relationships slowly fell apart. I harbored anger for a long time over my teachers. To me they seemed one way for so long and then, poof, all of sudden they were strangers, both in their actions and in my mere absence or abolishment in their lives (and my life too). It’s not fair to lay blame solely on them. I had my issues and my ideals, and ultimately it was I who pulled away. I was frustrated and wanted more and they weren’t giving it. Disagreements led into arguments, until finally the choice was made for me to resign and leave it all behind. But that final decision was made years after the decision that really set it all in motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In 2005 I broke off my engagement with my fiance. But when I broke off the engagement I ended up breaking off so much more. I broke off people whom I thought were meaningful relationships, friends, students and of course teachers. The simple fact is they chose her. I never wanted to admit that. I never wanted to think that my success as a teacher was dependent on her presence. I never wanted to be her shadow, that when it came down to it if she wasn’t next to me then I wasn’t as desired, and yet she was just as, if not more, desired without me. It killed me to know that in our post relationship careers, she was chosen by Yoga Journal as one of the next generations of teachers under 40. That she wrote articles and modeled for Yoga Journal. That she was teaching in all the conferences. That she had an internationally booked scheduled, while I was struggling to fill a workshop. I couldn’t admit that I wasn’t the person that I thought I was to all those people. And today, while reading up on a “once upon a time” student her bio says that since 2003 she has been devoting a week retreat with my ex, even though we co-taught those retreats (at least 2 of the years). I realized that I have been erased.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;But don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade anything. It may have taken me awhile to process and move through my angers, frustrations and feelings of inadequacy, but I have the life I want right now. Finally, I feel free from any lingering doubts about my own abilities to achieve on my own, and that now I have forged new relationships that are about me and what I am/can offer. I feel that I not only do yoga more deeply, but I live it and teach it more authentically as the union of my experiences and teachers from all aspects of my life. It has been an incredibly liberating feeling that has empowered me greatly and helps me recognize my successes is in my honesty, my wife, my child, my family and all the wonderful relationships I keep on a regular, daily basis. I may be erased from some, but I have never been more complete to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-8724860638647888263?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/8724860638647888263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=8724860638647888263' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8724860638647888263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8724860638647888263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-20-erased.html' title='Day 20 - Erased'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-1320194911393425525</id><published>2009-05-30T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T06:40:18.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11- Admittance</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;As I was meditating last night, I began to see the difference between my ideals of commitment and the truths of admittance. I realized that I keep making the mistake to think, “If I only commit,” but last night while meditating it was clear that it wasn’t committing that I need start doing, but rather admitting. I thought I’ve been a pretty committed person all these years, doing my spiritual practice, giving up things that others my age (or not my age) would be indulging in. I had my notions and judgments of how life should be, but what I began to see was that it was all superficial - outward representations of a spiritual life. I mastered the asanas. I could sit and make it look like I was deep in meditation. I spoke the language, kept the company and made myself appear like I was something else - atypical for a Westerner. But in all those attempts, I was never really committed because in all those years I was never truly honest with myself. I never could fully admit to my failures and flaws, to all the ways that I screwed up and continue to do so. I realized that I keep struggling, even right now, to make the commitments because I keep thinking that the commitments are the point, but last night while sitting there I saw that I better start admitting my shit if I really want to make commitments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The only thing I think I’ve ever been fully committed to is my wife and our marriage. Everything prior to that I was afraid to be truly honest - to be myself. I wavered in all my relationships, whether they were intimate, friends or even my yoga. I made excuses for everything, being frustrated or angry, blaming others and situations. I covered up so many feelings and experiences with fear to be true, honest, open or vulnerable. I thought I was protecting myself, but I realize I’ve been making barriers between the things I really want for myself and the ways to get there, covering them up with excuse after excuse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I sit with all my ideals, but I know that now is my time to start telling my truths. I know in admitting to my flaws that I will be able to make real commitments that, like my marriage, will be lifelong relationships that make me better from the inside out. I am ready to stop pretending and to start admitting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-1320194911393425525?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/1320194911393425525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=1320194911393425525' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/1320194911393425525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/1320194911393425525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-11-admittance.html' title='Day 11- Admittance'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-7924246294346655086</id><published>2009-05-29T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T06:02:00.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10 - Tones</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I thought the first few days would be the hardest, but I was wrong. My excitement and inspiration propelled me. I figured by the time I got here, to day 10 I thought the doing would have taken over the stalling, but again, I was wrong. I think what I am learning is that while I’ve been on my mat everyday (or nearly), at this point in my life I don’t have the same drive to practice like I once did. But I won’t stop, perhaps if I just keep doing then the passion for it will return, or if not as passion, then at least as routine or habit. I realize all the things I want for myself, whether physical or mental/emotional/spiritual all take work and time. It’s no wonder that “spiritual people” live in ashrams away from the mundane - it’s a full time job to dedicate yourself to the necessary work to become who you want to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Getting on my mat is only part of my goals. I realize that it is important for my physical goals, but a discipline diet must follow. This will be my goals starting this weekend. But so many of my other ideals are about me as a person in relationships (with my self, my wife, my children, students, etc). I realize lots of things about me that have contributed to make me successful in what I do, but also need tuning. I was thinking about something a teacher of mine said once when explaining words to me. He said, “words are first experienced as resonance and secondly as meaning.” I didn’t get it at first, just like everything he said to me. But I came to understand - it’s not only what you say that matters, but how you say it. I realize one of my biggest issues is how I say things - my tone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I have a strong tone, and the same resonance comes out for great joys as well as great anger. I can have all the intention of giving loving, caring advise but the tone feels the same as if I were frustrated or upset. I see that it confuses people, even though I know what I mean. A tone is so interesting. It literally sets the stage. It triggers us viscerally to create an expectation of what’s next. Nothing needs to be intelligible to set the tone. It’s like speaking to the dog. The dog only gets tones not meanings. I want people to get my meanings, but I am afraid my tone gets in the way, or sets them off to hear the wrong meaning of my words. This is a hard for me. All week I’ve been paying attention. What is it? Am I really pissed or frustrated at the world that such a tone brews in me in excess? I’m paying attention, watching it and my goal is to become multi-tonal, rather than monotone. I know my current tone serves a purpose, I just want to create a greater spectrum of tones so I resonate with a richer, warmer array of possibilities. I want to have better range to sing a better world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-7924246294346655086?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/7924246294346655086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=7924246294346655086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7924246294346655086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7924246294346655086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-10-tones.html' title='Day 10 - Tones'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-2229659324067017482</id><published>2009-05-27T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T07:06:14.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9 - Meditation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The other day a student asked if I meditate. The truth is I didn’t know how to answer the question. I know what the person meant - Do I sit with my eyes closed in silence? Do I try to empty my mind and stop thinking? We have such an image or definition of what meditation is and I didn’t know how to say that I am always meditating. So I when I got on my mat and I started practicing, I thought I’ll meditate. I did some restoratives (I know shocker!) and some therapeutics for my shoulder (too much baseball with my step-son), and then sat with my eyes closed and meditated (or appeared like I was). I sat for 30 minutes. It was a wonderful time. Honestly, it was peaceful. I had no distractions or interruptions. It was more than anything time to myself for myself. I was contemplative and reflective. There were moments where I simply tried to focus on my breath and nothing else, and then times where I engaged in a thought to see how it might make me (or others) better. My dog meditated with me. I even think he was calmer at the end. But what I realized was that every time I engage in something with my full awareness and mindfulness, I am meditating. And just like yoga, it is not something restricted to a mat or a seat, to a time or a place, but yoga or meditation is everywhere and always. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-2229659324067017482?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/2229659324067017482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=2229659324067017482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/2229659324067017482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/2229659324067017482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-9-meditation.html' title='Day 9 - Meditation'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-3517901126075442059</id><published>2009-05-25T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T17:02:47.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Joys</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;For the first time since starting, I took someone else’s yoga class. I am your reluctant student, mostly because I can’t get comfortable in a class. I can’t just be there as a student. Instead I have my teacher mask on and end up judging the teacher’s performance, as well as the student’s. Perhaps I do this to distract myself (more like protect) from going deep and putting myself out there for others to see. I don’t want to be the “yogi performer” anymore, yet at the same time I still want the recognition of what I can do (except I can’t do what I once did). Usually when I take a class it makes the teacher nervous and the class isn’t that good. I end up annoyed that I took the class, and the cycle of samsara continues. The exception to all that is my wife’s classes. There I feel totally at ease to be myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;But today was different. I woke up and my wife suggested I go to the studio early and take class. I thought about it - my shoulder/neck was still hurting... maybe not. I was thinking that I’d rather maybe meditate today, but I thought okay I’ll do it. And when I say I am so glad I did, might not be enough. It was one of the best classes I’ve ever taken at the studio. The teacher had grown so much since the last time I took her class. Her voice and comfort level was vastly better. Her sequence, assists and she actually looked like she was having fun. It wasn’t painful but joyful to be in her class. I know she was nervous, but she didn’t appear it at all. I was so happy to be a student in that class. Since she has been my student for so long I simply had joy - joy for her and her growth and success. Sympathetic joy. I truly was elated because she was so good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-3517901126075442059?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/3517901126075442059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=3517901126075442059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/3517901126075442059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/3517901126075442059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-8-joys.html' title='Day 8 - Joys'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-7294493900159707902</id><published>2009-05-24T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T17:20:39.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7 - Ideals</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The front page of the NY Times Style section today was all about this being the era of niceness. My first reaction was, “How nice.” Is it so out there that we have to announce we are now positive, friendly, even should I dare say - happy? Do we grow up surrounded with such cynicism and negativity by all the adults around us that we think the world is molded like that? Only we leave home, go to college and form our own, new ideals - that we will change the world, join Green Peace, the Peace Corps, work on an organic farm, “think global, act local.” We read, protest and love. We form ideas with passion. But then what? We join the work force and become, “another brick in the wall,” destined to live out a life full of responsibilities so large that our ideals get lost in the pile of bills and die with our mortgage. We get a dose of reality and our ideals are not part of it. They still exist as long, lost hopes that you keep buried in your closet with your other skeletons of the past, hoping one day your kids don’t find them and call you out for being a hypocrite. Isn’t it ironic that our very own taste of freedom that fostered our own ideals and promises is now turning on us to be adults that are molding our children out of fear that we mistake as protection or love, but it’s not our ideals - it’s not in consideration of the freedom we so desired. Perhaps this is samsara, or maybe we’re supposed to perpetuate the pattern only we add to it our own flavors. We flavor this generation, our children to live in love and freedom, in hopes and aspirations, in ideals - in the era of niceness. Wouldn’t that be nice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;One week. I’ve been on my mat for 6 out of 7 days. It’s been good. Discoveries in my body that I haven’t felt for some time. New interests and returned dedications. One week can change a lot, more in your mind and heart than your body, but the body is feeling good (although today I tweaked my shoulder coming out of headstand to see the fox running in our yard). So as I look into week 2 I start asking myself about my other goals and desires. You know that list I eagerly wrote on day when I was so idealistic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-7294493900159707902?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/7294493900159707902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=7294493900159707902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7294493900159707902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7294493900159707902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-7-ideals.html' title='Day 7 - Ideals'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-861030063381332722</id><published>2009-05-23T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T07:49:08.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 - Confessions</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I feel a bit like an addict falling of the wagon, only my AA is Asana Anonymous. I knew the only chance I would have to practice yesterday was if I woke up really early and did it before the kids got up, before taking them to school then teaching back-to back classes and heading off to the golf course to play (an invitation from a friend). By the time I got home at 6:30, I had been gone 11 hours. I was sweaty and hungry. I wanted to spend time with my son and wife and enjoy the mellow night (our first one in 10 days). And so my day’s schedule prevented me from getting on my mat and even writing. Or I can make that my excuse, which any addict will tell you is exactly what they do when slipping up. So yesterday no practice, no writing and in addition, I had a sundae and drank too much wine. So it was a total loss of a day, but aren’t we entitled to play hooky - to have a day off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When I woke up this morning I felt like I let myself down. I’ve chosen to make a commitment (and part of that is writing each day) and yesterday I chose not to do it. I could have woken up early (like so many who have a job and their only time to practice or meditate is early morning before they go off to work), but I didn’t. I could have done something, anything last night, but I didn’t. I did make the attempt to get on my mat before my first class. But after one forward bend, people started coming in, and I spent too many years practicing in the public for the public that it ruined my sense of practice. So I chose not to go there. This is private time for me and I didn’t want to be on stage. So when I woke this morning to a hangover, soreness in my back from yesterday’s round and a little stuffed up, I thought it would be just as easy to skip my mat. Another day, another excuse. And just like an addict might say, “One day won’t kill me.” Except it is that very attitude that becomes our demise. I can put it off one more day and promise myself, “tomorrow,” except tomorrow comes and the same cycle continues. So today I didn’t let that happen. I willed myself on the mat and turned yesterday’s day off, into just that - one day off, which is fine as long as the next day you get back to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I got on my mat. First with Beck. We warmed up together. I love that time with him. But then I put him down for his nap and got on my mat with a real interest and conviction. My first few practices where I followed my DVDs were great because they forced me to be on my mat. It was easier to be led than to do it myself (even though I was following myself - wierd). The other day when I didn’t practice to a DVD it was looser and unfocused, and that then led to my day off and I could see the pattern starting. Today, I got on and got to it. I moved with my breath, with focus and enjoyed it. I looked at and felt subtleties in my body, asymmetries that I hadn’t dealt with the previous practices this week. It was engaging and healing. I did more and kept my focus. It was very satisfying. And now I look forward to tomorrow without feeling like I lost, like I let myself down, like a failure, but rather, I gave myself a day off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-861030063381332722?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/861030063381332722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=861030063381332722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/861030063381332722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/861030063381332722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-6-confessions.html' title='Day 6 - Confessions'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-4408177471730706553</id><published>2009-05-21T07:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T07:40:41.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 - Exceptions</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;My wife reminded me yesterday that it’s been an exceptional year. I had surgery in March on a rare condition in my leg called popliteal entrapment syndrome, then wound up back in the hospital four weeks later due to pulmonary embolisms. I’ve been fairly immobile this year, and yes, it has been an exceptional year. But that makes me think that it would be too easy to blame everything in life on the exceptions because truth be told, most of life seems like an exception. It’s like learning Spanish and you learn all the verb paradigms and then there are the irregular verbs that you just have to memorize for they don’t connect with the normal paradigms. What seems to happen is that all the irregular verbs are the ones you use the most. Just like your life seems to be a majority of exceptions to your plans or dreams. So I can’t just make my circumstances an excuse. Yes they’re true - so move on, don’t dwell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I am not the exercise, workout type. My sister is and my wife was. The kind of person who runs, bikes or swims just to get the workout. The gym rat who has to exercise everyday or doesn’t feel good. That is not me. I guess being a hatha yogi and teacher forced me to be a part of the “fitness” world, learn my body and be in my body, but I am no junkie when it comes to working out. In fact I can’t stand gyms or the thought of going on a run or bike ride to get a work out. If I go on a bike ride it’s to get somewhere or have fun, but not to exercise. I guess it’s the same for my mat. I want to get on it to “workout,” but it just never works out that way for me. I get on it because it gets me some where.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I got on my mat today with more excitement and less obligation. Maybe I got on it knowing I wasn’t going to put a DVD in today and that freedom freed me up to breathe more deeply about the whys I’m on it, but at the same time I wasn’t as focused (in the workout sense) and didn’t have the same continuity in my practice like I did the last 3 days. But it was a sweet practice with my 10 month old son who laughed every time I did jumping dogs (jumping from downdog to handstand and back to downdog). I did lunges and standing poses with Beck at the front of my mat. I got off my mat to corral him back to his mat (or my mat). I tried to put him down and nap, set a timer for 10 minutes to move without interruption, only to find 2 minutes later that I couldn’t really practice with him screaming. I’d rather be with him and practice then think I had to “workout.” So it was looser and gentler, but I was on the mat. No regrets. I feel good. And if yoga isn’t about learning to prioritize and make better choices then what is it? I’ve been making my mat a priority, but that hasn’t come at the cost of my family, and never will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-4408177471730706553?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/4408177471730706553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=4408177471730706553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4408177471730706553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4408177471730706553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-4-exceptions.html' title='Day 4 - Exceptions'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-262289224760140133</id><published>2009-05-20T07:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T07:26:44.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 - Vanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Okay, let’s be clear what’s inspiring me most to start this is purely vanity. A lot of you may have met me or remember me as some skinny, little, bendy punk, which I was, but I was also young. My body was still more boyish than manly. But now in my early 30’s (okay enough remarks that I’m not old - I’m not saying I’m old), my body has changed - a lot. I’m no longer that skinny punk that bends at will. I’ve got some mass, in fact 30 pounds more than when I was in my early 20’s. I’m not saying I would trade bodies, because I feel and look healthier than I did back then, but I wouldn’t mind losing a few (if you know what I mean). So more than anything I am motivated for probably the same reason the majority of students who come to class are - to look good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Now, I’m not saying that I equate yoga as fitness (nor am I saying I don’t). I think yoga as my life is so much more than a good physical physique. If it weren’t for yoga, my mind and heart would be an uncarved block of wood, but with yoga I feel like I am carving my life to be a beautiful piece of art. You won’t hear me say, “I didn’t get to do yoga today,” (referring to not getting on the mat) because I feel every moment of my life I’m doing yoga. But right now, I’m getting on my mat - whether I want to or not because I don’t feel as great in my body, my weight or even my asanas, and that I’d like to change that, and I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Day 3, I didn’t want to get on my mat, but I did. I wasn’t as focused, but I still did it. I did my Backbends DVD with some modifications. I felt good, but I notice that I am still engaging with my mat like it is both an obligation (not my desire) and taking away from other things, again I realize those “things” are nothing important but just keeping busy. I will say that the physical transformations I think are starting off as the easiest. Maybe because it happens for a limited period of time under focused conditions, where as speech is always, emotions are hard to keep under control and food is so social. Anyway, I find myself understanding more when my teacher would complain that he didn’t have the same body from when he was 25.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-262289224760140133?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/262289224760140133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=262289224760140133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/262289224760140133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/262289224760140133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-3-vanity.html' title='Day 3 - Vanity'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-4543054869352583211</id><published>2009-05-19T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T06:48:51.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Honor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/ShK4N4ZAbPI/AAAAAAAAABs/77TPWkjlZAU/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 111px; height: 111px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/ShK4N4ZAbPI/AAAAAAAAABs/77TPWkjlZAU/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337531057002540274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I got an email yesterday informing me that Sri K. Pattabhi Jois passed away. He was one of the great Indian yoga teachers of modern time and his physical absence will be greatly missed. He affected my life greatly and thousands, if not millions of other’s lives. I think it is ironic that I find myself starting my challenge of being on the mat, the very discipline that Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga gave me, which Guruji (Pattabhi) inspired in me. He liked to say, “Yoga is 99% practice, and 1% theory.” Here I am back to practicing. I’d like to honor his life and teachings and my practice for the next month to Guruji.                                           &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 65px; height: 120px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/ShK4gR2W5HI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dEsmhRNcNUE/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337531373074179186" /&gt; &lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-4543054869352583211?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/4543054869352583211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=4543054869352583211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4543054869352583211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4543054869352583211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-honor.html' title='In Honor'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/ShK4N4ZAbPI/AAAAAAAAABs/77TPWkjlZAU/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-4979874951766533104</id><published>2009-05-19T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T06:22:48.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 - Still Committed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We woke this morning to find that one of our cars was broken into last night (well not quite broken into, since the doors were unlocked), and both of our ipods were stolen from the center console. Of course this is noticed when my wife is rushing to get out the door and drive the boys to school and I am with the baby. I can’t do anything, but react, and my first reaction was blame, anger. Why would I immediately blame my wife? It’s not like she put a huge sign on the back of the car that read “ipods inside car, take them.” Did I learn to react like that? Maybe I a mimicking my step-father’s response to things gone wrong - to always find the blame on someone else. Or was it my own issues with trust, since I have had ipods stolen before and don’t trust that things outside my own care will be handled properly? Well, the good news is I quickly moved through all that emotion. It was brief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;With all that brewing, I put the baby down (thankfully he was tired and ready for his nap) and got my mat out. My wife called to talk about the theft. What was there to talk about? Unfortunately, I was more rude than compassionate and said, “I had to get off the phone. I want to practice.” Two days ago, I would of stayed on the phone. I would of talked to keep busy. I find this the worst feature of cell phones, we use them to just keep busy. I always find myself calling someone just to talk when I am driving and I realize that I may be home and my wife calls me when she’s driving. Instead of doing things I talk, gossip, have good ideas, get pissed, fall more in-love. The spectrum of possibilities is immense, but what I’m not doing is being productive. So, I’m off the phone and on my mat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A million reasons not to be on my mat. I’m stiff. I have a sore throat. I have emails. I have phone calls. I have to shower. I have to eat. The recycling needs to get out to the curb, and of course, the baby is sleeping which means I could do all of those things. But I resist. I stay on my mat. I put in my Leg Conditioning DVD. I breathe, stay focused and move. My body starts warming up. I’m sweating. I feel looser in my legs and back. I feel good. No I feel great! I finish and sit for a few minutes and think about everything. My own habits and how hard they are to shift. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I get off my mat and realize that I didn’t have less time, but I made more time. My mat is the place where I become more efficient, more energized, more capable of doing everything else in my day. I finished and did the recycling, took my shower, ate, emailed and wrote this all before the baby woke-up. I have to remember that there is time for everything if I make the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-4979874951766533104?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/4979874951766533104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=4979874951766533104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4979874951766533104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4979874951766533104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-2-still-committed.html' title='Day 2 - Still Committed'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-7303305068534328830</id><published>2009-05-18T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T06:40:37.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 - Commitments</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;As I approach my 15 years of practicing and 14 years of teaching, I’m looking back with a sense of curiosity - Do I still have the same discipline I did back then? Surely, my life is much different. I a married with a family and a career, where as then I was 19/20, living at my parent’s with no bills or responsibilities. Okay, so being a 19 year old male yogi wasn’t quite the trend back then, but I chose sobriety, veganism, and of course my practice. My practice was everything and I defined yoga by the accomplishments on the mat. I would even say I was a fundamentalist when it came to asana. I had such will power and determination to wake every morning between 4 and 6 and practice and meditate (I found seated meditation the most challenging commitment I made, and even though I did half a dozen 10-day meditation courses in 2 years, I still struggled on my own to sit for an hour or two a day). But now, here I am wondering do I still have that discipline to get up, to get on my mat, to keep the commitment that I desire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So Day 1 of my discipline to get on my mat and practice like I once did, to give it the time of day. What I have realized in creating this challenge for myself is so many other things that I want to commit to that I once valued or could do. So here’s my list so far: I want to practice asana, have a seated meditation, examine my use of language (no cursing, tone of my voice like yelling), look at anger and patience, diet, alcohol, and mostly following through. Getting inspired is not my issue, but maintaining the inspiration is. At one time I was so disciplined (to what I might now think was to a fault), but now with my life I almost find it is easier to keep the status qua than change with a family (2 step-sons 12 &amp;amp; 9, and my own son who is 10 months), my wife’s yoga studio and my own traveling schedule. But I don’t want to think that as my views of yoga have grown and developed and I feel much healthier, that I have also lost a huge part of what yoga means to me and my ability to empower myself at will to keep a challenge. So Day 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After dropping the boys at school, coming home and putting the baby down for a nap, instead of taking my time procrastinating on the computer, eating and drinking coffee, I immediately got my Abs &amp;amp; Arms DVD out and did it. Is it narcissistic of me to do my own class (maybe, but no more than blogging - okay a whole other blog right there)? It was great to be in my breath, focused and moving. My wife put her mat down and joined me and instead of talking, which would of been so easy to do, I resisted and kept breathing and maintained my focus. The practice was great! And now to my other commitments - no swearing on the golf course today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-7303305068534328830?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/7303305068534328830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=7303305068534328830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7303305068534328830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/7303305068534328830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-1-commitments.html' title='Day 1 - Commitments'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-967863516660436647</id><published>2009-04-29T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T13:52:17.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Steps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Is there a point in life when things stop being new? As adults do we lose the gift that children get every day, the gift of wonder and newness? I watch my 9 month old and everything he does is new. From crawling to stepping, to foods, to even his head hitting the wall and to watch him test it again to understand “head, wall.” It is an amazing source of discovery that in our world seems harder and harder to get. I read recently if there are any places to go on Earth where no one else has ever been. The answers were mostly places in Antarctica. Think about when the America’s, Africa or Asia were discovered by Europeans. When the Earth was no longer flat but round or gravity was understood. Are we robbed of firsts or are we unable to think that the opportunity for a first is always present?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My dad made an interesting comment to me the other day. He thanked me for the weekend he spent with my son, his grandson. He said, “It’s not easy to have a first at 60.” I thought true but sad. Why can’t everything be a first? I watch the dissatisfaction people have with their marriages or jobs and they think, “a new spouse or job will make it all better.” I used to think that. I used to think it was everything else around me that made me, but now I think differently. Now I invoke the greatest gift yoga has taught me, the power of what, how, why, when and where I choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Try this for the next week. Everyday wake up and think about the things in your life, maybe your spouse, job, family, friends...and instead of thinking of all of them as obligations or responsibilities, instead choose to love them. Choose to see them as gifts in your life. Choose them everyday because then you will get to have first loves, first jobs, first friends, firsts steps everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-967863516660436647?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/967863516660436647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=967863516660436647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/967863516660436647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/967863516660436647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/04/first-steps.html' title='First Steps'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-4321877471502464411</id><published>2009-01-20T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T10:18:47.852-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Patriotic</title><content type='html'>I’ve just listened to the now President Obama deliver his inaugural speech. I sat with my wife and six month old with tears in my eyes for the future beauty in our lives. A promise not only for us, but also for our children and their children. We feel the hope as we look out over the 2 million people gathered in Washington and the millions more around the world watching with anticipation of hope rather than fear. It’s time for a real change and it’s happening now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In President Obama’s speech he had a central theme that connected us – our country, America. I think it is fair to say that for the last 7 years or so, being an American across the world has not been a desired identity. Not only across the world, but if you disagreed with American politics within America then you were seen as unpatriotic. But now, President Obama brings pride and hope in being an American and a reclamation to what it means to be American and patriotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A few years ago, I remember celebrating the 4th of July at a yoga retreat and the teacher talked about how this is our America just as much theirs (referring to the Bush administration and Republican values), yet we all felt so anti-American. How were we to celebrate the independence of America? Were we patriotic? What does that mean? Why can’t disagreeing with the patterns and behaviors of a politic mean that you are not a member of the country? After all, aren’t we a democracy rather than a dictatorship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Yoga has an agenda and part of that agenda is not inventing things that already exist, but reclaiming them in new ways and perspectives. We’ve all felt the transformations of yoga in our bodies and the spill over into our diets, philosophies, views and consciousness. We started reclaiming ourselves the moment we began yoga, but we must constantly be willing to reclaim ourselves as we advance our yoga. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to look at yourself and who you are, who’ve you become, and be willing to constantly redefine yourself. It’s like a marriage. The problem with marriage is not the institution of it, since it is actually one of the most beautiful unions, but rather the marriage represents an ending rather than a beginning. We found and developed the love and now that we are married we don’t have to cultivate it anymore. Except the very reason a marriage works and lasts is because each person chooses to recommit, to redefine, to reclaim their love everyday. It is not the obligation of the certificate (which is legal) that holds a marriage together, but the constant choice to define your love. Well your life is no different. Everyday you have to wake up and be willing to reclaim who you are, even if that means you have to shift the perspective because who’ve you become is no longer in alignment to what you believe or value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I feel very proud to be an American right now. I’m very proud to be a yogi because like our President reminded me today I need to look at myself everyday and reclaim myself and my own constitution as the my conscious choices to be better, not just for me but for my wife and child and all of our futures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-4321877471502464411?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/4321877471502464411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=4321877471502464411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4321877471502464411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4321877471502464411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-patriotic.html' title='I am Patriotic'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-8410343001917321340</id><published>2008-12-07T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T08:02:09.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Flood</title><content type='html'>I’ve always envied those people, both men and women, who cry. It was something that seemed impossible to me. I don’t know if it was me holding on to some macho notion of what it meant to be a man, even though I was 19 teaching yoga and spending the majority of my time in the company of married housewives. But I wanted to cry. I would try to squeeze out a tear at movies, while reading, in the appropriate “cry here/now” situation, but never with success. I watched my friends, partners and teachers cry. It not only seemed like such a release, but also that they were feeling life in more ways and deeper ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The word for tear in Sanskrit is aksha, which is the same word for eye, like in pratyaksha (senses) or literally in front of the eyes. It is said that Shiva’s tear, rudraksha, creates life. The tear is the bindu, a point, but much more the shape of a drop (3-D) than a point (2-D). That initial tear is filled with Shiva’s juice, rasa, or emotions. In Indian aesthetics art has 9 (originally 8) essential emotive qualities called rasa: erotic, comic, compassionate, ferocious, fearful, heroic, disgustful, wonder, and peaceful. The same aesthetic philosophy becomes a school of yoga called Alamkaradhvani. The original tear is filled with all the qualities that make life an art. The verbal root ras, where rasa comes from means to roar, yell, cry out, scream. The eye creates the tear, which acts like a lens to perceive and taste life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was taught that life happens in the tears. I would sit at retreats and the other students all around me would have these breakdowns. I felt like I wanted to have what they were having. I didn’t want the transformations I was having (which I was at exponential rates). I wanted to have that cathartic meltdown everyone else was having as my transformation. Only I never did. Did I have to live a life of hardship, self-abnegation, or torture myself? Why was I barren? Was this something I had to learn or was it more who I am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I hate using age as an excuse. Sometimes it is true that age matters. You just experience more as you live. Yet, age doesn’t mean that you can’t be good at something simply because you are young. But age has seemed to be a big factor for me. In my own aging, I have grown up. I have experienced many of the hardships of life, but more the joys that come with living. I have lost relationships, friends, and businesses. People I know have died, life has been filled with terror and now the economy looms towards a depression. I have lived with the responsibilities of taking care of others and all the hardships and stresses that come with such responsibilities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve found my tears, but not because of the hardships, but because of the greatest joys. The loves of my life is where my tears formed. My wife, baby and stepsons have brought me tears – full cathartic meltdowns (it’s true I have it on video). After the birth of my son, life changed. It got juicier and I started to taste (rasa) and see (aksha) in deeper and more ways. And the tears started flowing and flooding. Now, when I am at the movies, reading, or simply experiencing the joys and pains of others my eyes swell with life. I not only know there is a point (bindu) but I see it, feel it and taste it every day in the joys that surround me. My yoga never denies the hardships, but my yoga sees the joys as the creative power of my transformations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-8410343001917321340?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/8410343001917321340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=8410343001917321340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8410343001917321340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8410343001917321340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2008/12/lifes-flood.html' title='Life&apos;s Flood'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-34415134799055189</id><published>2008-11-28T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T09:05:36.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Noble Truth</title><content type='html'>I remember reading Pema Chodren’s book When Things Fall Apart when I was 19. I was heavy into my Buddhist studies and practices, and at that time her book was at the top of the must read list. At 19 what did I know about things falling apart? As children and young adults we are so overly egocentric that everything happening seems larger than it is, or that we are the only ones who’ve ever had any of this happen to. So, I can’t say that at 19 things didn’t seem to be falling apart, it’s just now when I look back at then and I look at now, the notion of falling apart seems worlds apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is great (that’s the first Noble Truth for me). As a great life we don’t have to fix anything.  If life is inherently suffering, well then, you’ve got to relieve that suffering. Otherwise you will always be suffering. If life’s an error, an illusion or a mistake then you have to transcend, escape or transmute the state your in, in order to achieve liberation. You have to be liberated from something into something. Which leaves the question, where do you go when you achieve this liberation? This is why life is not the problem. Life is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I look at things falling apart, and my tendency is to fix them, I’m beginning to wonder whether that’s what I’m supposed to do? If I’m here to fix life then I have to understand what’s broken and look at repairing that. If life is great, then I have to see how I’m not being myself and then shift myself back into the optimal me. But it still seems like I’m always trying to make something better. When Things Fall Apart is actually not describing life, but prescribing life in its title. A Buddhist believes that life is impermanent and everything is in a constant play of joining and parting. When you understand that things “fall apart” you see life’s impermanence, and therefore cease clinging to these things. Really, it’s not bad advice. There is a time in our lives when we need to loosen the grip, expand our perspective, and stop dwelling in the predicament. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, at the same time those things rejoin, right? The yoga is in the rejoining, not just that things fall apart and rejoin, but in how you make the relationship between them. All of a sudden, I realize that my life is always falling apart. It’s a hard life. It’s a challenging life. But at the same time, it is always joining together. It’s a simple, enjoyable life too. Instead of spending my time trying to fix what’s falling apart, which is impossible, I just remember to be me. In fact, our lives’ fall apart when we forget who we are and act in that forgetfulness. Many times things fall apart because we are so busy trying to keep things together. Kind of ironic, huh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is no more or less challenging than yours. In fact, I am sure we all live under the same normal amount of stresses that comes in waves. My life may appear more or less stressful than yours right now, but I am sure that will switch at some point and balance out. So, we’re all in the same boat, which is happening to be falling apart right now, but let’s make the choice together to see the falling apart as just as great as the joining together. Your life is great not because you achieve a state, but because you can always be yourself in whatever event is happening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-34415134799055189?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/34415134799055189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=34415134799055189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/34415134799055189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/34415134799055189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-first-noble-truth.html' title='My First Noble Truth'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-8825109878964320384</id><published>2008-11-07T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T11:14:51.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive me Internet, it has been 1 year since my last blog</title><content type='html'>Okay, okay, I know it has been far too long. I don’t know if I’m lazy or that November is my month to write. I think it is November. I realize that it is this time of the year when I transition the most. Is it the impending winter season? Am I like an animal that is gathering all my thoughts like food to store and go into hibernation? A year of hibernating…now that’s an idea! Is it the election and all the excitement of change in the air? Perhaps I connect to the traditions around the world where this time symbolizes the New Year. I don’t know, but it was last year at this time that I resigned from Anusara. It was last year at this time that I had all these grandiose ideas and was inspired to produce them all. Then the year happened and what a year it was. Now, it is this time of the year again and I sit here thinking I’m lost.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I’m not interested in retelling my year to you. As interesting as I find my own life, I am sure you find yours more interesting. Yet, how could I write or share anything if it wasn’t about me? A year ago at this time, I sat with the world of opportunity in front of me. I had spent the betterment of 2 years struggling to make a very hard choice whether to leave Anusara or not. After making that choice, it was like I had found myself – the clarity and honesty were so raw and I had all the energy and enthusiasm to mold those opportunities. In that great spiritual dilemma, I thought I had found myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered yesterday a critical turning point in the Ramayana. Right after Rama loses Sita, and the Kishkindya Kanda begins, Rama is cursing the forest, its creatures and the whole world. He becomes the Howler, a name of Shiva, and therefore loses himself or becomes something else. It’s the turning point of the book because a new journey must begin, the one of re-connection to what he has already known because yoga is always a journey to connect with what is already possible. Rama’s journey is our journey through the forest of thoughts and emotions, in a world of the familiar yet unknown, in a world where success is your privilege, but fulfillment is not your guarantee. Rama’s journey through the forest is our own turning inwards to reflect and learn about whom we are and what we can do. Rama’s return from the forest, with Sita and Hanuman and the fulfillment of his yoga is the turning from the density of uncertainty to the clear light of the City where a world looks to embrace and share with him and he can embrace it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, I thought in these last two years that it has been at this time where I have felt lost, and in all the uncertainty that makes my life I found myself sharing my thoughts, like mythic stories. Only now, I realize that it is this time each year that I return home after another long year and journey into losing myself. It is in my year that happens between these blogs where I have been losing myself, wondering through my own forest, encountering interesting characters, being seduced, angry, in love and in awe, yet not fulfilled. For what ever reasons the Universe seems to steer me in, each year I return to see myself whole, even if it is just for a moment. Well, my goal is to lose myself again, after all that is where the power of transformation begins, but this year I hope to not forget myself in that process. In other words, I’ll be back before next November!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-8825109878964320384?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/8825109878964320384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=8825109878964320384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8825109878964320384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/8825109878964320384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2008/11/forgive-me-internet-it-has-been-1-year.html' title='Forgive me Internet, it has been 1 year since my last blog'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-93412960246055752</id><published>2007-11-20T09:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T09:40:24.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call It What You Want</title><content type='html'>Call It What You Want&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Everyone keeps asking me, “What is your yoga called?” Honestly, I didn’t leave Anusara to create my own style. It’s not my desire, but sometimes things can’t be avoided, no matter what you truly want. At a party in Tucson, a friend said to me, “Call it what you want,” in reference to Miles Davis’ famous 1970 set at the Isle of Wight concert (which, ironically, happened to be on my birthday, August 29th). At this concert, Davis and his band played a set of totally new sounds,¬ an electric jazz/rock fusion. About 25 minutes into the set, Davis leaned over to the mic and said, “Call it anything.” (watch the video on youtube) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfHDQ1GffRQ&amp;eurl=http://surrealdocuments.blogspot.com/2007/08/miles-davis-isle-of-wight-1970.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been someone who seeks out identity. To what lineage do I belong? As I began my search, I hoped to be connected to the oldest lineages – antiquity definitely seemed more authentic. Maybe that was originally due to my deep interest in Chinese thought, but as my discipline manifested into yoga and Indian arts, I sought the “old stuff,”¬ the things that would say I was directly connected to something thousands of years old. Of course, being the young enthusiast I was, it never dawned on me that, even if the connections were to a lineage from a place far away and a time long ago, the practices we were doing looked nothing like what they did back then. I always had that romantic notion in my mind of finding the Ancient One and being part of the tradition, like a Kwai Chang Caine character from the television show Kung Fu.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I moved away from the old lineages. I saw my practices for what they were: new, or maybe more accurately, evolved, innovative, and refined. It didn’t bother me, but when you see something for what it is, you can make better decisions regarding what it actually does for you. When I found Anusara, it was new, it was exciting, and ironically, I found my romantic version of the Old Ancient in a not-so-ancient American from the Midwest and Texas. I learned more from John than from any hatha yoga teacher I ever met, and I learned more than just hatha yoga. But as time went on and Anusara grew, I had trouble maintaining my identity with it. Maybe I was growing so much (and had grown so much), that I could now form my own notions of how I identify life. What is life if you don’t make connections, but does what you name yourself limit you?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I think you have to make an identity out of yourself, but are you solely marked by the one identity you make? We want to be remembered for our great contribution in life; that is, after all, our immortality. Unfortunately, people come to expect that one gift of you and end up fixing you (limiting you) as a person to just that one dimension. There is no space for exceptions. The problem is that there are always exceptions. Why can’t we have multiple dimensions without that being a problem, even if some seem to counter each other? I want people to make identities ¬to name their experiences, develop their ideas, and make their lives expressions of what they are thinking, feeling, acting, and so on. I want them to learn to call it what they want, not what someone else wants them to call it. But, most importantly, “it” is not fixed. ¬ “It” is not one thing, but anything. So, call your yoga what you want, because everyday your wants are changing. Everyday, your experiences are not the same and what you call them will be different. I want to teach you my experiences, but I want you to call them yours,¬ with a variety of differing names.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-93412960246055752?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/93412960246055752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=93412960246055752' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/93412960246055752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/93412960246055752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2007/11/call-it-what-you-want.html' title='Call It What You Want'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798268046031589363.post-4186583347828813305</id><published>2007-11-10T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T16:57:55.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Assets and Liabilities</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    My teacher likes to say, “Your assets are your liabilities.” I use that line a lot. In fact, my teacher trainings center around that principle - everything has an advantage and a disadvantage. Recently, I was in a situation where for the first time I found myself truly deferring to others and listening to their expertise. I began thinking to myself - why haven’t I been able to do this before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    My strength has always been in doing things. I am fast study. I remember things instantly. What I don’t know, I can quickly figure out on my own. This is my strength. I know more than enough in many fields, and I want to do the job. I want to be the caregiver. I want to take the credit (or be at fault). Simply, when it comes down to it, I am going to do the job, whether that is renovating my house (carpentry, plumbing, electricity, and so forth), designing a website, logo, or other graphics, to teaching, bookkeeping, cooking, laundry (okay I don’t do yard work), I won’t ask for assistance. Owning a number of different businesses over the years, I have always relied on my skills to get the job done. Whether that was due to not enough money to hire someone to do it, or because I didn’t think the job would get done as good unless I did it. Regardless, I ended up burning the wick from both ends, for good or bad. Sometimes it worked, but in my last business it did not. The fact was I needed people, but didn’t know how to defer. My asset became my liability and it hindered me. I couldn’t receive what others had to offer.&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;    As I consider these implications on my life I am reminded of how yoga was and continues to be transmitted. While my heart and teaching falls into a certain lineage, my actions seemed to be mirroring another. Maybe I want to be the guru, but in some regard who doesn’t? Isn’t it tantalizing to have all that respect from so many people all looking to you? Certainly, I can see how easy it would be to get caught up in wanting and having all that power. In the modern yoga era, these guru lineages, where one person is in control and people submit to his or her power is the more common image of yoga. Maybe it is for all the ways it is not our culture - to have the foreign looking, all-knowing sage, whose sole job is to bestow grace in our lives. Who wouldn’t want that, especially in our difficult, over-worked, busy lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    But the more unknown transmission of yoga was the one that I really found myself getting this week. These other guru traditions are called Kula-Yoga. These traditions don’t look to one seat or person to hold all the authority, but rather authority shifts depending on what’s needed. Everyone is the guru, and everyone has a legitimate say when it is his or her expertise. As I sat around the conference table, I was inspired by the contributions of everyone there. Each person was guru when they spoke. Being able to defer tasks and roles all of a sudden made my whole body and mind lighter. I had created more space to be myself, rather than creating another burden that I have to do. Respecting others only makes people respect me more. Not thinking I had to do or know everything was a relief. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes down to it yoga wants us to learn to truly defer and let other’s greatness be our experiences. To be great means you have to learn to keep the company of greatness. That means you have to be willing to allow other’s a chance to share it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4798268046031589363-4186583347828813305?l=mbyoga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/feeds/4186583347828813305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4798268046031589363&amp;postID=4186583347828813305' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4186583347828813305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4798268046031589363/posts/default/4186583347828813305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mbyoga.blogspot.com/2007/11/assets-and-liabilities.html' title='Assets and Liabilities'/><author><name>Mitchel Bleier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05096582521371732177</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHpJh_xrHbU/StjZn10pYcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/X8q77ntygkQ/S220/heasdhot1.3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
