Yoga Tonight

Photo via Coffee and Yoga.

Sometimes I get what I like to call the 4 o'clock waver. I'm sitting at work, less than an hour left 'til I get to peace out. I'm planning to hit up the Hot Room for a sweaty Bikram yoga session, but then... I waver.

What about a lazy night at home?

A date with the Hubs?

What about baking cookies in my PJs?

All of a sudden my mind's bouncing around about how hard the Standing Balancing series is going to be, about how I'm under-hydrated or hungry. Surely there's something more relaxing I can do tonight than yoga. 

It's sad, really. Frustrating. These silly thoughts!

Yoga is my relaxation. Yoga is my meditation. Yoga kicks my ass so I can let go -- fully, finally. Especially on the days when I waver, yoga is what I really need.

And let's be honest: if you can, YOU MUST!

See you at the 5:30pm class, yogis :) Here's to kicking yourself in the bum so you can get your yoga in today.

Photo via A Yoga Journey. 

Bikram Yoga Time Lapse

Ever wondered what a Bikram class would look like on fast forward?

You're in luck. I just discovered this amusing time lapse video via Being. Love it! Sort of makes you aware of how little time you actually spend in the posture, huh?

Change Your Life

Photo by the one and only Cassi Saari.

Anyone know this famous Rilke poem? I was reading it over again today, trying to inspire up some poetry, and I fell in love with the last line all over again.

Plus, it's an all-around fantastic poem to be reading as the year draws to a close.
Archaic Torso of Apollo

by Ranier Maria Rilke
We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,

gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark center where procreation flared.

Otherwise this stone would seem defaced 
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:

would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.

These beautiful words are based on an unfinished statue, and the way it took the breath away of a poet as he viewed another artist's work. Have you ever been blown away by art so fully that you feel you must change your life?

Now is the time of year that I think about the transformations we go through, the way our art changes, our circle of friends shifts, our time spent moves toward new activity. 

This is definitely the time of year when I look back, and there's a lot from 2010 to remember.

A year ago my sister had a newborn; now she smiles at a little boy and prays with him and teaches him how to speak.

A year ago the Hubs and I were stressed-out students, dating and longing for marriage, trying to plan the details of our Big Day. Here we are now, enjoying the holidays together and getting ready to return to our urban apartment life and full-time jobs.

A year ago today I was about to experience a panic attack, a tough bout of depression, and a long haul climbing back to my usual energetic, well-slept self. Today I feel amazing, so much more in tune with my personal needs and capabilities, and now I know that I have the power to avoid ever slipping into such a dark place again. I'm well-armed with family and friends that mean the world to me, with my yoga practice, and with a life spent doing the things I love. (And a blog where I can write about them and share them with you, dear readers!)

I couldn't be happier to be here, guys. Thanks for reading!

A year ago I didn't know the joys of Bikram or whether I'd have a steady job that I liked after graduating from Northwestern. Today I work full-time at a company I love, and I have plans to complete Bikram Yoga Teacher Training and fulfill my dreams of sharing this yoga with others.

A year ago none of us were who we are today.

It's been a crazy year, yogis! It's been an awesome one, too. Hope you are having fun taking a glance back at where you've been, and getting pumped for what's to come. Here's wishing you a wonderful close to 2010, and please share your stories past, present and future!

As for the Winter Extravaganza... a big congrats to Emily. You win the NYE giveaway! Please contact me with your mailing address so we can get those goodies shipped.

And speaking of shipping, if there are any winners out there who are still waiting to receive loot (and who have been waiting a while), please contact me ASAP. I want to make sure you all get your gifts in a reasonable amount of time. 

A big thanks to all our wonderful Alive in the Fire partners, too. You guys are some of the most generous people I've ever encountered (honestly!) and I hope you've enjoyed the exposure to the lovely Bikram community here at the blog. 

Namaste to all, and happy impending 2011!

Photo by the tall and talented Cassi Saari.

A quick and final note on partners: I will be posting more in-depth in the next week on what it means to partner with Alive in the Fire, how you can get involved, and the benefits of getting exposure to this Bikram yoga and blogging community. If you've got a small business -- yoga related or not -- and want to promote your goods through a lively, green, and growing outlet, please contact me today @ aliveinthefire at gmail dot com. I am looking forward to collaborating with you!

Practice, Not Perfect Execution

Photos via Brandy Lyn Winfield, an incredible yogini who won the 2010 Bishnu Charan Ghosh Cup and who teaches at Bikram Yoga Summerlin in Las Vegas, NV.

How many times does a Yoga Asana Championship-winning yogi practice a posture before taking home that trophy?

You'll never know. They lost count.

Or better yet, they never counted to begin with. Because it wasn't about the number of times they got it right. It was about trying again. Doing the best they could. Letting go of the rest.

Taking flight.

I recently read a lovely blog post by Bikram yogi Hannah over at Hannah Just Breathe about how there is always something we can learn from our practice. Even if we mess up and eat right before class, sitting in savasana can teach us to prepare better next time. Even if we've been to Teacher Training and back, we have more to learn from our instructors and the yogis around us about how to focus, how to let go, how to have fun.

Whether it's our first class or our 100th in a challenge, we are practicing strength and getting better by letting go of expectations instead of demanding perfection of ourselves.

As Hannah's teacher said, "Each time you come, each time you practice, you learn something new, about your body or yourself or the yoga.  It is the practice that’s important, not the perfect execution.”

Next time you get overwhelmed by your own mistakes, or frustrated by your yoga performance, I challenge you to reconsider the way you define your practice. Are you at the studio to experience the yoga and to detox your body and mind, or to impress your fellow yogis by executing the posture perfectly?

Will you fix your hair and shorts and wipe sweat so you look OK, or let it go and get down to business?

Who are you making eye contact with in the mirror -- your neighbor or your own steady gaze?

Do you bring home pride, or humility after class?

I was so proud of Joanna over at Lock the Knee when I read her recent post about how well she took disappointment when competing in regional yoga championships did not go exactly as planned. Basically, she didn't hit her Standing Bow the way she had been hoping to, and practicing for, but that didn't mean she was about to give up. And in case you were wondering, she's got a killer Standing Bow:

A true Bikram yogi and teacher. I mean, this lady's got it goin' on.

Instead of slinking off-stage, Juliana took her time completing the rest of the postures she had been practicing (as she says, "because at this point I didn't really care about the clock and I was still on stage in front of a whole ton of people.  I might as well do something nice before hanging up my leotard until next year!").

Sarcasm aside, instead of freaking out or getting upset, J was able to laugh off what didn't go as well as she hoped it would -- and she even posted about it on her blog in one of the most hilarious throwbacks to the awesome web comic Hyperbole and a Half I've ever read. She had fun, she did some great yoga, and she took home no regrets -- she practiced being calm and carrying on! -- and for that, The Dancing J should be super proud.

As should Hannah, her wise instructor, and the novice yogi who he counseled about coming to class on and empty stomach.

With these inspiring Bikram yogis in mind, I challenge you to reconsider your habits at the studio, and your true motives for engaging in this practice called yoga.

Next time you find yourself whining at yourself in the mirror about how you didn't achieve that last inch of depth in Half Moon, or how you didn't get your chin to shoulder in Standing Bow before falling out, shut your brain up.

Relax.

Bikram yoga is about practice, not perfect execution.

I love how delicate her toes are in this picture. So beautiful! You can believe it took some practice to get to this perfect execution.

Practicing with Pain

Photo via cognitive.distortion on Flickr.

Recently I received an email from a reader who was wondering about how to do Bikram yoga while dealing with back and neck pain. Since I can totally relate, I thought I'd share a little post about recommendations from some of my teachers, plus a bit from The Boss himself!

Here are some basic tips to keep in mind:

• Always speak with a teacher in person for the best advice. Don't be scared to ask; instructors are there to help! Be specific about your pain and be honest about prior injury, too.
• Only practice with a certified Bikram instructor and always consult your doctor if you are unsure whether you should be practicing.
• Be careful, move slowly, and stop if you experience sharp pain. Don't hurt yourself by going too far just because you see yogis around you advancing in the posture.
• The right way is the hard way!
• Lengthen the spine before bending it.
• Follow the dialogue! Listen for steps and be sure to do them in the right order. For example, in Padahastasana you bring your upper body to the thighs before you lock the knees. In Separate Leg Stretching, you empty the stomach and suck it in before you stretch.

 Photo via Prana.

From Stuart, studio director at Bikram Yoga Evanston:

Try the right way and do the best you can.  It may be uncomfortable and that's OK. 

From Nancy at 105 Yoga in Oak Park, Chicago:

It's hard to assess pain for a person I haven't seen or talked to. Your best bet is to talk to your teacher in person and tell them exactly where you feel pain.

Sometimes you get a stiff neck from sleeping wrong or tweaking it somehow, in which case, Pranayama is awesome.  It will hurt and be uncomfortable but it should feel better after the breathing and definitely after class.  If this is something that is bothering you every time you do Pranayama, you might be doing it wrong.  If you've just started practicing, you might not be used to moving your head and neck that way.  If you've been practicing for a while, you might be doing it wrong. 

With all of the above said, if it's painful, definitely back off a bit.  But I would really encourage you to speak with your teachers about any pain and in order to make sure you're doing postures the right way.

Photo via Good Luck Cleo on Flickr.

From Lindsay at Bikram Yoga Evanston, 

who's also a massage therapist and owner of Omai Bodyworks:

What to do when you're experiencing discomfort depends on the quality of pain, and if you have any previous injuries. If you have some sort of osteo-arthritis or disk degeneration I would say to only go back in backbends and Pranayama to the point of pain (or keep your head upright if you can't move it backwards at all). 

If there's no previous stuff going on, my recommendation would be to try to focus on lengthening up before tilting the head back in Pranayama. A lot of people just drop the head back, which crunches the vertebrae, and it's important to never do that (in any posture). It is all about lengthening first, and then moving. 

Also, make sure the shoulders are relaxed away from the ears, as hunching the shoulders puts a lot of undue stress on the neck/shoulder/upper back region. If you are able to move the head backwards, even a little bit, you should focus on really squeezing the elbows together in front of the body (to increase the space between her shoulderblades on the backside of the body). 

Especially when you first start doing the yoga, the body hurts as it is opening and adjusting to the postures. The body will follow the path of least resistance, and a lot of these movements are completely foreign to a lot of people, so it can be painful in the beginning... The body will fight initially. But the right way is the hard way :)

Photo via Prana.

From Bikram Choudhury and the Bikram Yoga site:

Beginning with Half Moon, my series of exercises is designed to make your shocked and shriveled spine work to both sides, to the back, and then to the front. Only by exercising in all directions can your spine be healthy; and only with a healthy spine can you have a healthy nervous system.

If your chronic problem is something such as sciatic pain, lumbago, sore back muscles, whiplash, vertebrae out of line, shoulder trouble, radiating pains down the arms, tension headaches, swayback, spinal curvature, pinched nerves, or "something not quite right that the doctor said I ought to watch," stop watching. Act! Get to work on these exercises. Even those who have had spinal surgery should get to work--with their doctor's okay and a qualified teacher who can lead them in my particular series of exercises.

People with slipped disc are often in such pain that Yoga seems further torture. However, in numerous slipped disc cases, determined yoga can save the day. So endure the pain. But please note that those with slipped disc should also work under the supervision of a qualified instructor using my exact series of exercises and the safety rules laid down in the dialogue, in my book, and on my website.

Photo via Thanaruth Phomveha on Flickr.

Please follow the instructions carefully when you are doing forward bends. For example, in the half moon (Padahastasana series), the instructions are to bring your torso on your thighs, chest to the knees, no light space anywhere between the torso and the thighs. If you try to straighten your legs without having this first part accomplished, you can create pain in your lower back. Also keep in mind the instruction "360 degrees stretching." What that means is to make the stretch even throughout the whole back side of the body.

You also want to follow these guidelines in separate leg stretching. Bikram says, "Suck in your stomach and bend your upper body down from your lower spine  towards the floor." It is difficult to suck in your stomach unless you exhale, so make sure to exhale as you fold forward. When you suck in your stomach, it supports the whole pelvis to roll forwards with the rest of your spine--this eliminates strain in the lower back.

Working carefully, mindfully, allowing your breath to flow with your movement will help you to gradually deepen your experience of the postures.

Photo by Alice Beasley via A Cup of Jo.

If you have more questions or comments, please include them below. Namaste!

Focus Forward Friday: Be Fearless

Happy with heights, from the Navy Pier ferris wheel. Now for calm in front of crowds...

Photo by Brandon Kidd.

Focus Forward Friday: A weekly ritual for deepening your Bikram practice.

Today's focus: fearlessness. We all face fears, irrational or not, in our lives. Fears of growing up. Fears of letting go. Fears of being seen for who we really are.

In the Hot Room, I often find myself building up fears instead of listening to the dialogue and taking each posture one step at a time. After Standing Separate Leg Stretching I'll feel my heart pounding and my head throbbing; sometimes, my eyesight dims and I get the sensation that I could pass out. I'll sit down immediately -- or, just as often, sit out the first set if I'm feeling scared.

Then there's Camel. I work up the posture in my mind like it's going to be the worst thing that's happened all day, when often breathing right through it helps me realize it's a huge relief. I head into Savasana feeling refreshed by new energy and a release of tension in my back.

Which postures do you sit out because of fear?

Who haven't you approached in your life because you're holding back, frightened of what might happen if you spoke your mind?

Have you thought about why your fears have the best of you?

Feeling nervous? Check out this online mag to read inspiring stories by gutsy leaders.

One talented lady I met at the Seth Godin conference publishes a fantastic magazine about individuals who refuse to give in to fear. As their site states, Fear.Less is a free online mag that empowers people through unique stories of overcoming fear. The subjects range from business leaders and artists to scientists and people who've survived extreme experiences. They understand that fear is intense. It's universal. And though it consumes us, we don't have to live with it!

I'd encourage you to check out some of the stories of bravery and daring listed on the site. You can also follow Fear.Less on Facebook and Twitter, or submit your own story.

I encourage you to take pride in facing your fears. For me, lately I've been able to move past my anxiety about public speaking. I taught a yoga class at NU to over 35 people a few weeks ago. And this week I presented to a small entrepreneurship class on marketing to promote my freelance editing company, editZING. For each, I felt calm and capable in front of the crowd. Instead of shaking in my boots, I just breathed right through it.

Share your stories of fearlessness in the comments below, and have a bold weekend!

Seth Godin, fearless Linchpin leader.

Bringing Out Your "Best" In the Heat: How to Battle Anger and Disappointment While Trying to Hold a Solid Standing Balancing Series

Photo Via Jana Cruder Photography.

Sometimes I walk into the hot room and experience immediate bliss: a warm blend of relief by the slackening of tight muscles, joy in the softness of the sultry air as it surrounds me, and comfort within the stillness, silence and tranquil dimness of the space.

And then sometimes I walk into the hot room and just think, “FML… it’s hot in here!” and start to wonder how I’m going to survive the next 90 minutes.

Sometimes I hear people walk in that door and directly announce their surprise at the boiling temperature, too: “Whoa, it’s hot!” They then proceed to glance around with a look of surprise, both at the heat and the fact that they’ve audibly disrupted the peaceful hush of the room. My favorite part of this routine is the “No sh**, dummy!” looks all of the regular Bikram yogis give the loud person as they scowl and send disapproving vibes in their general direction. 

This is Bikram. Simon says IN HELL, the room seems to be saying in one silent, furious whisper. Did you not get that you were signing up for yoga in a 105-degree room? Hellooooo?

Hey, at least I don’t verbally proclaim my dismay at the heat I willingly enter a few minutes before class begins.

On the other hand, it never ceases to astound me how often the heat can bring out the worst in me – those emotions I generally tend to hide from or simply pretend just aren’t even real.

Anger. Resentment. Frustration. Self-loathing. Insecurity. Regret. Discontent.

Anywhere from mild annoyance to downright rage and full-fledged letdown, sometimes the heat puts me face-to-face with the frenzied side of me I wish wasn’t seething beneath the surface.

I’m not generally an angry or confrontational person in everyday life, so having these sensations and excesses all up in my face all of a sudden can be a bit devastating. Especially when I generally intend to use yoga as a time to detox, let go, and get out of my own head.

Sometimes, too, it’s a matter of seeing reflected back at me all of the drama and madness of real-life that needs to get left outside the glass doors but somehow managed to sneak in with me and my mat… like the feeling of my heart dropping out of my chest as I read an email from a long-time friend who says she won’t be joining me at my upcoming wedding in August. Talk about a sucker punch to the stomach: now that makes me feel loved and special.

Or how about my livid reaction to every poke and prod from parents or friends about what tiny retarded details need to get done today today today for said wedding. What color napkins? Did you call the florist? Are you sure your friends will show up to help set up chairs?! Garrrr, people. I know all the party planning is supposed to be gosh-darn hootin-hollerin’ fun, but sometimes a girl just wants to work, do the yoga, and get home for some dinner and snuggles and a couple episodes of Prison Break, not another 8-foot-long To Do List.

Or take these timely favorites: my ultimate dissatisfaction with waking up in the morning feeling like I’ve been hit by a two-ton truck. And not because I’m hung over or under-slept, but because I’ve been having these freaky, depressing, and downright terrifying dreams from the moment my head hits the pillow to the second the alarm sounds. Exhaustion sucks, man.

And of course, there’s the lovely sense of entrapment and longing for the outside summer world just beyond my reach that surrounds me from 9am to 5pm every day, just taunting me out the crystal-clear windows in the office. I can SEE you, Lake Michigan, sparkling your sparkly blue just right along the horizon there! I can see you, scantily clad Evanston residents, out there sauntering around enjoying the sunshine in your tank tops and flip flops! Gaawwwsh. Go ahead, be more taunting, won’t you?

Alright this is the point in the blog post when I admit to myself and to my readers how I really shouldn’t be whining so. You’ve probably stopped reading anyway, what with all this self-indulgent wallowing mucking up the page, but just in case you’re still with me, I’ll try and bring back a relevant point that relates to the yoga.

I was recently reminded over at Bikram Yoga NYC’s blog how “Bikram yoga can teach you that anger is as pointless as fatigue – natural, maybe, but only an inconvenience somewhat like rain: an obstacle to surmount. Doing Bikram teaches you that agitation of any type fades, and after it does, seeing the next right move is not so hard. All that heat lets cool reason prevail.”

Now this is a pretty slick idea, when you stop and think about it. The concept that by doing Bikram you can actually overcome your anger and fear – and flush it out your system just like all the other junk the postures help get rid of – is such a relief! What freedom there is in that.

It’s like any challenge, really: the longer you wait to face it head on, the harder it becomes and the more of a mountain you’ll have to climb over in the end. But if you make straight up facing it your priority, and incorporate it into your daily routine and your weekly yoga practice, the fury fades faster.

Letting go of exasperation and other inhibiting emotions during your 90-minute meditations at Bikram can also help you deepen your practice. How else do you expect to find the intense focus and balance needed for the standing balancing series? I speak from personal experience when I say that it’s pretty darn hard to hit your personal edge for Standing Head to Knee and not wobble all over the place if all you can think about is something offensive you heard at work, or a past hurt you can’t get over.

Practice being in your practice only in the room – a blank slate with no emotions, no distractions, no irritations. And hey, after a while, even the heat will start to feel good.

Photo Via CortexForce's Flickr Photostream.

Yogi Characters Continued

PhotoVia SunSinger's Flickr Photostream.

A little while ago, I featured a post on some inspiring local yogis at my home studio, and our need for compassion in the hot room. Here are a few more characters I've come across, followed by a few who I'm keeping my eye out for.

Locals I Love:

• Yoga Mom Extraordinaire: you've got sweet tats, a solid practice, and super-cool mom skills for bringing your daughter to Bikram before she's even old enough to be allowed in for the standing series.
• Slick Italian Gentleman: I'm pretty sure you're a dancer in real life, what with that slicked-back hair, graceful form, and seriously-athletic focus. Your headband and strong-looking hands make me think of only the word "Om" filling up the room.
• Fire Engine Man: your body looks like a brick and you've got to be at least 40, and yet you keep coming back for more heat and humidity. I like to imagine you're the captain of a local firestation and your Bikram practice is just another way to get used to being surrounded by fire.
• Miss Firecracker (aka my favorite teacher): your spunk, liveliness and kick-ass dialogue rock my world. With your leadership and encouraging spirit, class always seems to fly by and I feel stronger and more empowered than ever. Who knew such vigor could come in such a small package?

Are You Out There?

• Pregnant Moms Who Still Practice: If I ever encounter you, I will immediately offer you an extremely enthusiastic high-five and begin asking you a bunch of questions of how you survive the hot room.
• Yogis Wearing Leopard-Print Anything: Straight-up Bikram style! I have yet to earn these stripes.
  
• Scorpion-Doers: Seriously, how do people pull that pose off?! I've never actually seen it in person, so I'm pretty sure I will oogle and drool over whoever I first discover chilling out as a poisonous desert bug.
• The Emotion-Weary Yogi: OK, so this may sound a bit strange but lately I've been hearing and reading so much about yogis who suddenly start all-out sobbing in the middle of Bikram class. I am completely intrigued and curious about this phenomenon. And not that it's not an emotional experience every time we practice, but it might be sort of interesting to experience the teary meltdown in the middle of class...just to see what it would bring up, and be able to say you survived it. Plus I generally tend to have have salt water in my eyes, anyway, from all the sweat drips...What do you think? Have you ever survived the yoga-mat tearfest?

Photo Via SpectreMan's Flickr PhotoStream.

A Bikram Poem

The Good Morning Arriving


face
in the value of
the mirror

I feel like a bag of bricks
I feel like a million bucks
I feel like a breeze spreading across a pool of water

pretty invincible
even in this heat
mirror-made self being witnessed

I just don’t feel very capable
I feel a bit lightheaded
In fact, I feel like I could fall asleep right on the floor…

looking toward me
what I am
reflecting back

around in repetition:
bodies breaking limitations
pushing toward a better practice

I feel beautiful in a way
I feel a little less crazy
I feel this stillness blossoming in the room

the way the heat holds
between the rows
a collectivity, moisture of the mind combining

I just feel this overwhelm of energy
I feel a peace in this strange pocket of time
I feel a sense of gratitude ballooning up inside my chest

Everyone is nowhere
Have we all forgotten?
No one can get in the way of what we’re feeling
with the mirror there, with our eyes
all beauty and truth caught
connecting up in the practice of the body

I feel ready
I feel empowered
I feel a part of the system which moves the body I belong to

I have been here before
and I know the way
through the fire
the lonely ice the way of breaking
the body down into its base
falling it out of its formulaic habits, absentminded imperfection eluded

I feel superstitious but
I feel myself trusting the process if I can let myself
feel my body fighting its own way, marking its own entropy over the mat

I can go there, where

all the yogis are pretending to be yogis
as we simply human people exhale toxin-breath
and replenish our lives with compassion, elasticity, duty
to leave what we don’t need, hallucinatory reconciliation
and elaboration on all the reasons we’re tired
our bodies no longer on the list

I feel like a pilot performing a long-distance raid
I feel like a mountain climber conquering El Capitan
I feel like this is all there is,

will be,
intricate,
delicate

our bones reshaping
our lives we take
back to the mat
sweat falling like rain
and the sun rising out the window of this studio
I feel the good morning arriving...

Mr. Bald Yoga Guru Guy's Handstands After Class: Intimidated Much?

Photo Via Mark Ray

You know the feeling: complete overwhelm. Maybe it's the heat; maybe it's the sweat. The simple thought of being locked in the torture chamber for 90 minutes. Increased heart rate? Labored breathing?

Oh, wait. Maybe the reason you're feeling a bit stunned and terrified has to do with none of the above.

Maybe it's your hot neighbor. Or better yet: the teacher standing up on the podium there. Or the day when you unexpectedly find yourself side-by-side with that well-built, well-practiced Bikram instructor, their lovely muscles shiny with sweat and oh-so-close to your very own mat.

Throughout pranayama breathing, you find yourself sporadically glancing their way. Your eyes meet for a moment in the mirror, as a rush of embarrassment floods your cheeks. Great: now your face is red from the heat and the shame of revealing your interest in the other yogi's currently seriously-flexible shoulders and audible throat-like-a-valve inhales.

Let's be honest: we've all experienced intimidation in the hot room. There are those days where we wish the notion of competition didn't get in the way of a posture's integrity, and we push past our edge for the wrong reasons.

Or, in my case, I look around the room after class to discover a teacher who I find rather intimidating executing beautiful, bold, sturdy handstands. I mean, we're talking muscular strength in all its glory. Balance and grace and tenacity all rolled into one vigorous posture. And this is after class, people! Most everyone else in the room is half-asleep, doggedly making their way to the door, or oogling in his direction.

Don't get me wrong, but I felt a tinge of jealousy as I watched him fling his legs skyward with athletic control and freeze in the statuesque spot. Jeez, I thought to myself. I wonder if I could ever do that?

It was a momentary blend of feeling like a miserably-inexperienced yogi with little potential, but then simultaneously realizing how long it must have taken to develop such a skill. It was inspiring.

In the same way that I've been intrigued by the teacher since my first class with him -- the calm, smooth tone of his voice as he delivers the dialogue, his fierce demands of yogis during class (especially his strictness when it comes to unifying the class), and (perhaps most of all), his bald, lovely, perfectly rounded head. His physique looks a bit like a statue itself, I've sometimes thought. And combined with his stern expression and posture, he seems a bit like an ancient Egyptian or some expert yoga guru or something.

A couple of days ago I experienced a breakthrough about this guy, though. For all of his outwardly exotic allure, his severity while leading class, and his mastery as a practicing yogi, I could make an equally compelling case for his normalcy.

He might sit behind the studio desk looking mysterious in his head wrap, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't mean intimidation by it.

And hey, when it comes to the yoga, we're all getting the same benefits, as long as we're working at our maximum.

It's just as Bikram reminds us: we should bring no expectations to the hot room. It should be a place where we go to lose, not boost, our own egos.

Truly falling in love with Bikram means bringing humility to our mat every time we practice -- and using that lack of pretentiousness to build a strong collective energy, an inspiring sense of grace, comfort, and love in the room. We use our humble hearts to welcome others -- no matter their level of flexibility or strength -- to the power and beauty of yoga.

The other night as I was leaving the studio after an energetic class with Mr. Bald Yoga Guru Guy, I made my way quietly to the door, ready to slip out unnoticed and into the post-Bikram bliss of the rest of my evening. Much to my surprise, he turned to me with a sheepish grin, a cheerful wave of his hand, and joyfully exclaimed, "Nice job tonight!"

I felt a little burst of butterflies in my stomach, the excitement of being recognized filling my core. In that little moment, I was so proud, so thankful for the practice. Grateful for the guidance of exceptional teachers, and for their mystique as a tool for bringing me to my knees and boosting me up at the same time.

Who knows: maybe someday we'll be doing those handstands side by side in the sultry mist of the Bikram studio, Mr. Bald Yoga Guru Guy. You just never know.

Photo Via Maui Yoga.