Yoga for Grieving

Last Friday night, I attended a free 'Yoga for Grieving' class at Pittsburgh's Keystone Health Club.  It has a really cool industrial vibe, being located in an old Westinghouse Plant.  From the parking garage, the walkway into the club overlooks the vast expanse of a long-vacated manufacturing plant that once was part of the area's economic backbone.  Now it's just a lot of emptiness except for this jewel of a health club, tucked into a corner of this big open space.  Last June, I saw an ad from a local funeral home (Patrick T. Lanigan) announcing its sponsorship of this class as part of its grief support outreach.  I tucked it away, thinking that some day I would like to attend.  Since the class is only every other Friday night at 7:00 p.m., I kept missing it due to other schedule commitments. 
As part of our yoga teacher training, we are supposed to attend two classes a week.  It helps to observe different instructors and styles of yoga and to see how other studios are organized. 
With nothing better to do, I set off for East Pittsburgh directly from work.  It was not until I put the address into my smartphone that I suddenly realized that the route would take me through Braddock PA.  My parents and maternal grandparents are all buried in the Braddock Catholic Cemetery.   Probably almost a century ago, my maternal grandfather and his two brothers purchased cemetery plots on the same hillside overlooking this old industrial town.  My mother's family included talented stonemasons -- there were family monument businesses in Dravosburg and New Kensington.  The three family headstones are beautiful examples of their work.  My grandparents' is an artful representation of the Agony in the Garden.  My cousin tells a funny story that her mother did not want to be buried in Braddock, but she loved the design of the headstone.  They graciously accommodated her desire to be located in a more upscale city location, Calvary Cemetery, and replicated the exact design in what is now her final resting place. 
Thinking that visiting the cemetery was the thing to do, seeing as I was on my way to a yoga class designed to help grieving people, I arrived at the family gravesite as the sun was nearly setting in the sky. 

I always cry when visiting this place and arrived at the Keystone Commons in an appropriately grieving state of mind.  There are other blog posts on this site where I have reflected on how yoga has helped me occupy my time, mind and body at times of loss.  The class was very gentle, much of it done in a chair.   There was no conversation about loss or grief or mourning.  Just dim lights, calming music and soothing postures. 
Teaching yoga is not something I am sure I can do.  But I could do this kind of class. 

Yoga Classes and Catholic Masses

It's been a loooooong summer vacation from this blog.    And I truly want to get back to blogging, to thinking and writing about health and wellness and to doing more about health and wellness.  This summer has been bookended by two awesome vacations, one in early summer that took me to both coasts (Maine and Northern California) with Montana in between and a late summer trek by car to the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. 


They really are smoky!

What is a vacation?   The word shares Latin roots with the words vacancy and vacate, so it has something to do with space, emptiness and openness.   While there has been frantic activity to be sure, especially in Maine and California with kids, moves and San Francisco sightseeing and visiting, there has been much quiet and solitude.   Quiet and solitude as in not doing much of anything.  In both Montana and Tennessee, there was no access to cell phones, newspapers or the Internet.  In Montana, there was no television.  So, lots of reading, thinking and sitting. 

Yet always from my childhood up to today, there is never a vacation from the obligation to attend Sunday (and post Vatican II, Saturday) Mass.  No matter where we were, we found a Catholic Church.  There was no discussion, no debating, no break.  And as a adult with a family of my own, this tradition has continued.   It has made for some challenges.  Try finding a Catholic Church in Salt Lake City or the Cayman Islands.  Since the advent of the Internet and a great website, www.masstimes.org,  the task has been made much easier.   But what wonderful memories of grand and tiny churches, in places ranging from the Brompton Oratory to Hilton Head.  And on the most recent vacation in Tennessee, the absolute luxury of two Masses (on Sunday and one for the August 15 Feast of the Assumption) that were celebrated right in our rented vacation villa, thanks to two priests who were with our group and vacationing too.   While vacations bring adventure and new places, there is something comforting about finding the universal Church wherever I go.

Lately I have added a new vacation tradition, with taking yoga classes whenever possible while on vacation.  Not as predictably found as Catholic masses and with content not nearly as consistent, I have done yoga in Puerta Vallarta, Puerto Rico, on a cruise ship and on a dude ranch in Montana. 

The photo doesn't do justice to the view from the yoga studio, but you get the idea.

(Note to fellow Yoga Teacher trainees -- the Gatlinburg Tennessee location appears to be woefully underserved.  Wedding chapels abound, but no yoga studios).  I have travel yoga memories now etched in my head, including arising from Savasana this Memorial Day weekend to gently falling snow outside in the Absaroka Mountains in Montana and to rocking on a cruise ship in choppy waters in Alaska trying to keep my balance. 
On vacation, we still eat -- we need to keep those prayer and exercise routines going too! 

Is Yoga a Religion? (Part 2)

A family member recently shared a link to a 'Boston Catholic Insider' blog post about the Archdiocese offering a yoga class to staff of its headquarters.  The initial announcement of the class was made by a benefits administrator, attempting to determine interest in holding the class after hours, with fees paid directly by employees to the instructor.  The post's author is scandalized by the offer. 
He (or she) quotes no less an authority than Wikipedia, which states that "The goal of yoga, or of the person practicing yoga, is the attainment of a state of perfect spiritual insight and tranquility while meditating on the Hindu concept of divinity or Brahman.  The word is associated with meditative practices in Hinduism, Jainism and Buddhism."
I am here to categorically state that the goal of this person practicing yoga is to improve my physical and mental health. 
The post went on to cite writings of the now Pope, but then Cardinal Ratzinger, warning of the dangers of "Eastern" practices, including yoga.  It generated 39 pages of comment, much of it critical of yoga and the hierarchy of the Archdiocese for its apparent lack of understanding of the potential spiritual danger to which it is exposing its employees.  A later post included the text of an email message from the Vicar General of the Diocese (clearly in a higher pay grade than the benefits administrator) confirming that the Archdiocese intends to continue to pursue the yoga class as part of its health and wellness program.  These are among his comments:
"While recognizing the dangers inherent in some spiritual practices of yoga, particularly those that incorporate eastern philosophy, we are no way promoting a false religion, pagan worship, or narcissistic spirituality...I am told that many good and faithful Catholics incorporate this simple and useful form of physical exercise into their workouts.  This type of yoga is apparently also a common part of many physical therapy routines and can offer positive physical results...It is a health and wellness program..."
This second post generated more pages of comments, many of them laced with vitriol against the Vicar General, Cardinal O'Malley, the Archdiocese of Boston and both teachers and practitioners of yoga. 
I have no doubt that there are teachers and practitioners of yoga whose devotion extends to elements of it that are associated with Buddhist and Hindu traditions.  Recently I attended a session on meditation at a retreat for yoga teacher trainees.  The presenter, a trainee herself and a psychotherapist, commented that she sometimes during meditation, liked to picture herself "with my head resting in the lap of the Buddha".  Another participant in the session commented that she found herself "turning to the Rosary" during the meditation practice. 
Yoga, not unlike the Catholic Church, is a very big tent.  There is a range of teachers and styles that is literally mind-boggling.   I have previously shared in this blog my experience of attending a retreat on prayer at a Jesuit Retreat Center given by a Kripalu trained yoga instructor.
This wellness journey of mine has taken me through a Dean Ornish series called the Spectrum, in which every session began with yoga poses and one entire session was devoted to meditation and relaxation techniques shown to have a positive effect on blood sugar and overall health.   Last night I came across a Readers' Digest guide to diabetes that included photos of traditional yoga poses in a series of exercises designed to better control blood sugar.    No chanting, no discussion of sutras or chakras -- just straightforward exercises and breathing techniques that have been shown to improve health of mind and body. 
Yoga has been a positive force for health in my life and I continue to want to learn more and to perhaps show others its benefits.  Can't we all just stay calm and breathe? 

First, Do No Harm (Ahimsa)

Part of our yoga teacher training involves participating in at least two classes a week.  We are encouraged to try different styles and teachers so that we can appreciate and learn from the diversity of instructional methods and yoga 'schools'.  Last Saturday I tried a new studio and a Yoga 1 class taught by a teacher who embraces the kundalini style. It included elements I had not seen before - not just chanting (which almost always unnerves me), but singing; a sequence that included marching in place; and quick movements accompanied by fast breathing exercises. It was different; challenging but energizing.
After class, I met a friend for coffee who lives in the same neighborhood as the studio. She had visited the same studio for a gentle yoga class, but the experience left her in pain and needing two ibuprofens.  She is very fit, but has a shoulder problem.   
When she shared that she had not previously experienced pain as part of a gentle yoga class, it reminded me of the recent New York Times article by William Broad titled 'How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body'.  He is a senior science writer for the NYT; and has a book titled, "The Science of Yoga:  The Risks and Rewards" that is soon to be published.  The article has generated a firestorm in the yoga community.  It speaks of serious injuries (strokes, yoga foot drop and back, knee and shoulder injuries) sustained by even the most careful practitioners of yoga and is critical of under qualified teachers who are oblivious to the needs of their students. 
Teaching is an awesome responsibility.   And while I keep thinking what a significant time commitment it is, the 200 hours of training required to get a yoga teaching credential pales in comparison to that required of most other professions.  I once heard that it takes 10,000 hours (or roughly five years of full-time work) to become truly proficient at a skill. 
And that 200 hours includes time studying theory, including the yoga sutras.  First committed to written form by Patanjali some 200 years A.D., the sutras present timeless principles of daily living.   One of them is called 'ahimsa'. 
Ahimsa is usually translated as non-violence.  It's an expansive concept but fundamentally it encourages us to avoid harming ourselves or others, in actions, speech or even intentions.   
It is giving me great pause as I think of the responsibility of teaching others and the potential that I may have to cause them harm by something I say or do.   And Broad's perspective is making me much more aware of the risks.  Hmmmm. 

Changing Course

One of the axioms in the quality management world is that if you do what you've always done, you get what you've always gotten.  So in an effort to get something different, I am doing something different.  Yoga has become a part of my life and I continue to be drawn to it -- but still not really understanding what "it" is. 
Teaching was part of my professional life for over two decades.  It helped me to understand what I was doing professionally, because I had to explain it to others.  So, I have enrolled in yoga teacher training so that I can add the credential RYT after my name -- and learn.
We are a group of about 20 people with incredibly diverse backgrounds.  I hope to be able to write about this experience as a way of reinforcing it.  We are required to keep a journal and I wrote the following at the end of the first class on January 15.
'Me, a yogi?  And I don't mean bear or Berra!   In the midst of a roomful of beginner students, I feel like a true beginner.  There are people here who are already teachers -- lots of lanky bodies -- no pot bellies the size of mine. 
I paid in full, not just to save the higher cost of installment payments, but to make a commitment. Time to leave today.   Time to start." 

Home Care or Just TMI

The holidays are just about over.  And they truly were holidays, particularly from the reality of diabetes.  I admit to much overindulgence and to taking a break from regular yoga and regular blood sugar testing.  But when I had trouble buttoning my pants for work this week, reality had to be faced.  I've regained weight that was carefully lost (not all, but enough).
One of the disciplines of diabetes is regular A1C testing completed just before PCP visits.  My last one had a happy result.  The next one is due in February.  But where am I now post-holiday holiday? 
Two new recent magazine subscriptions are Diabetic Cooking and Diabetes Self Management.  Oh, those were the days when my taste in magazines ran to things like People or Woman's Day. 
Inside the front cover of the holiday issue of DC is an offer for $5 off on home A1C testing -- "Finally, an easy way to track my progress, right at home."
In my case I have a feeling that it is an easy way to track my lack of progress or worse yet, my negative progress.  Anyway, I printed it out and am off this afternoon in search of 'A1C Now SELFCHECK'.   In this circumstance, I do not think that ignorance is bliss.  Next PCP visit is fast approaching in February.
It's time for some new year's resolution. 

Thanksgiving for Aunt Mary

My Aunt Mary, at 96, is a living lesson in how to survive. Last Sunday morning after finishing up a yoga class, I switched my phone back on to see missed calls and voice mail messages from my cousin Karen and JB. Immediately I knew that something must have happened to Aunt Mary.
In large Italian families, it is not unusual to have the last unmarried daughter stay at home to care for aging parents. Aunt Mary, one of five girls, did just that. She worked at US Steel, a career woman before it was commonplace. She not only never married, but she never even learned to drive, walking to work, taking buses to town and relying on others to drive her when she needed to get to a family event or holiday celebration.
Everybody should have an Aunt Mary.  She remembers all family birthdays, with cards and presents too.  I was the beneficiary of a great family birthday tradition as a child in which Aunt Mary gave us a dollar for every year of our life.  So getting older meant getting more dough -- and it was surely something to look forward to.
She was devoted first to her aging mother, and then to her siblings, nieces, nephews, and now great and great great nieces and nephews. 
As she and I have gotten older, I have come to realize that while all of those tangible presents and her very real presence have been such constant blessings, there is something so much more edifying about how she lives her life.
Aunt Mary lives totally in the present moment.
This is a lesson I have longed to learn.  In the firmament of magnets that have graced the face of our refrigerator over the years, this is one that can always be found and is attributed to Buddha -- "The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or to anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment, wisely and earnestly."
And so last Sunday, when Aunt Mary was taken to the hospital after a fall, she sat peacefully and was engaged in the Steeler game as we waited for the results of her X-rays.  After the ED physician said he saw nothing broken, she prepared to return home (while I am mentally obsessing about how I am going to leave her in her apartment).  It turns out she could not bear weight on her leg, so they ended up keeping her overnight.  That night and the next day when I saw her, her only seeming concern was that I remember to call her favorite bakery and order a birthday cake for my cousin Karen.  She must have told me five times to remember to get the cake and assured me that she would pay for it and asked that I get my uncle or a friend to pick it up. 
I was further reminded of her positive mental outlook when she was presented with her dinner tray of what looked to me like classically nondescript hospital food.  "Beautiful, beautiful", she kept repeating as she ate every bite of food on that tray.   Turns out her hip is broken. 
When I went to see her in the nursing home where she has gone to recover, she was waiting at the dining room table for her dinner tray to arrive. "Beautiful, beautiful", she again exclaimed, as she proceeded to consume every bite on that tray too.
She does not appear to be concerned about when or whether her hip will heal, when or whether she will be able to return to her apartment.  That is because she is not thinking about that.  She is only thinking of what in the present moment she can focus on that is positive.  She is helping me more than I am helping her right now.  Forget Buddha, watch Aunt Mary. 

Is Yoga a Religion?

Once at the end of a Sunday morning yoga class, a woman blurted out, "This is sooo much better than church!". That memory has stuck with me. Churches struggle with how to attract young people. Young people, especially young women, flock to yoga. 
After more than three years and hundreds of classes, I remain perplexed about what yoga really is.  One thing for sure, any type of exercise that can be done lying down is inherently appealing to me.
It seems there are yoga studios popping up everywhere.  As a business opportunity, it has a pretty low barrier to entry.  Not a lot of capital investment.  Two hundred hours of training and one can become a yoga instructor.  All it takes is an empty room and some mats, blocks and blankets.  Poof, it's a yoga business.
Since anyone with some training can become an instructor, there is wide variation in the quality and content of a yoga class.  Some include chanting and esoteric discussions about yoga sutras, in studios decorated with statues of Buddha and Buddhist flags.    Others would make Jane Fonda feel right at home, with lots of  lunges, twists and aerobic level routines.  Some include meditation, with readings.  Some conclude with physical relaxation techniques, of the relax your head, relax your neck, etc, working their way through the body.  One of my oldest and funniest yoga class memories happened on a family vacation at a dude ranch in Montana.  The instructor was going through the parts of the body to relax, including a request that we relax our kidneys.
Afterwards, a physician in the class observed wryly that, "if I relaxed my kidneys, I'd pee on the floor!" 
Then there are the gurus.  While the vast majority of yoga instructors in this community are women, the 'names' in yoga are more typically men.  Rodney Yee, John Friend, Max Strom and Bikram Choudhury are just a few of those who have followings.  And Choudhury has copyrighted and franchised his approach, hence, 'Bikram' yoga was born.  
Some people claim that those who practice yoga and claim to be Christians are on the path to spiritual ruin.  The Catholic newspaper of our diocese ran an article about a local 'PraiseMoves' instructor.  I tried a couple of her classes.  The poses were given new names and the routines are liberally sprinkled with biblical passages.  She was very kind, very sincere and very convinced of the value of PM as the Christian alternative to yoga.  But PraiseMoves is a franchise too, requiring its own teacher training and certification. 
Catholic bishops and pastors have been known to ban yoga classes.  But Catholic retreat centers also offer yoga classes and yoga retreats.  I know, I attended one earlier this year taught by a Paulist priest, Father Thomas Ryan who is a Kripalu trained yoga instructor. 
In the Introduction to his book, "Prayer of Heart and Body: Meditation and Yoga as Christian Spiritual Practice", he explains that Kripalu was, until 1985, a Jesuit novitiate.   But the Jesuits had to downsize due to the lack of recruits.  Now, Father Ryan points out, hundreds of people reside in a celibate community, and accept a simple lifestyle under the direction of a guru.  In a further bit of irony, he notes that a mosaic of St. Ignatius Loyola looks down upon people who are largely in the 20-45 age range, a population coveted by church pastors, who largely minister to a significantly older group. 
His writings and retreats are based on integration of yoga with Christian spirituality.  He heads a Center dedicated to interfaith understanding and has apparently not been kicked out of the priesthood or  summoned to Rome for retraining.
This morning I went to Mass and then to Gentle Yoga. I'm sticking with both. 

Happy Anniversary

On August 15, 2010, I started logging my exercise, nothing fancy, just using the 'notes' on my IPhone. Most experts in lifestyle change advocate writing things down, and the Weight Watchers program incorporates 'tracking'.   Tracking, either on paper or on WW etools, has never been my strong suit.  But today, I celebrate the first anniversary of my exercise log.  Back when I was first diagnosed, Dr. Natalie, in discussing exercise, said it was not optional.  Or rather, not exercising is not an option.  And so I do. 
The advantage of recording is that you have a record.. duh!   Reviewing it tells a story.  Lapses?  Sure.   But a review of the log shows 65 yoga classes and 184 walking entries.  Perfect?  No.
I am no longer seeking perfection, only consistency. 
BTW, my A1C went from 7.9 to 6.5.
Dr. Natalie is happy and so am I. 
Heading to Yoga tonight. 

A Letter from Canyon Ranch

A letter arrived,  postmarked June 14, return address Canyon Ranch, tag line "The Power of Possibility (r)"  It was addressed to me in my own handwriting.  I had no recall of having written it -- kind of like those postcards you fill out to yourself at the dentist office and they mail to you to remind you of your next appointment.  Whatever had I written to myself?  I procrastinated about opening it -- mostly because I thought it would contain some letter reminding me that there are things I planned to do that I have not done--you know the lose 15 pounds in 15 days types of promises to oneself.  After about a week, I peeked in the envelope and pulled out a one page document, titled, 'Commitment to Myself' and dated March 23, 2011.  On it I had written a total of 38 words.  Three statements of commitment to a healthier style and three changes that would be apparent three months out. 
I was pleasantly surprised.  Perhaps I did learn something new there about behavior change.  The commitments I made were modest -- to incorporate the recommendations for diet change and exercise and to apply my personal values.  The changes I hoped to realize have been.  They were modest also, having to do with how my clothes fit, my ability to do more challenging yoga and having lower blood sugar levels.
Every day brings challenges and there have been setbacks.  Three things I have learned so far in this journey that I talk to myself about consistently.

1. Stay in Today (forget yesterday and don't worry about tomorrow).  There is a reason why the Lord's Prayer speaks of 'our daily bread'.  I only make positive progress when I keep myself firmly planted in the present moment.
2. Small Changes.  Things like taking the stairs, walking to local destinations (church, coffee shop), parking a longer distance from entrances and remembering to move instead of sit when I can.
3. Simple Pleasures.  Farmers markets and more real food (I ask myself -- "Who made this and What's in it?")  I'm beginning to prefer a more basic diet of fruits, vegetables and meats.  And wine, in very small amounts has really helped.  

Other results?  Went to Weight Watchers this morning.  Down a total of 15 pounds since the beginning of the year, nine since Canyon Ranch (and 27 since my all time high).  Not earth shattering, but my goal has always been to get 50 pounds off -- 23 more to go and eight months to go. 

Airplane Yoga

If you have noticed a paucity of posts lately, it's because I have been traveling this month.  I love to travel; and I know that it's not just the destination that matters, but the journey. But seriously, traveling coach on US Airways is no fun. My usual m.o. is to bury myself in a book and a couple of trashy magazines.  I read "The End of Overeating" by David Kessler M.D. and found it a fascinating read about how our appetites have been manipulated by the culture, the media and food manufacturers so that our bodies and our brains are totally misguided and confused; and a great profile of the newlyweds William and Catherine in Vanity Fair and a wonderfully decadent Spa magazine that made me want to immediately plan my next getaway.   But since "moving" is part of my new m.o.,  I talked myself into experimenting with airplane seat yoga.  I have taken enough gentle yoga, including chair yoga, over the past three years that I figured I could come up with some poses that would incorporate stretching, breathing and relaxation to help me tolerate two cross-country flights.
My yoga teachers, Jen in particular, focuses always and fundamentally on the breath.  She teaches four-count breathing, although I like a five-count.  In and out, rhythmically, it is calming and creates a certain mindfulness.  These are some of the poses I came up with that created more of a relaxing physical experience to complement the escapist and sometimes mindless reading I do in flight.  (OK, the lawyer in me comes out.  I am not an expert and not a yoga teacher.  Do these at your own risk!)
While breathing,

1. Chin to Chest
2. Chin to Ceiling
3. Lower Ear towards the shoulder and use your arm and your head to help with the stretch.
4. Wrist Circles
5. Point and Flex the Feet
6. Spread the Toes
7. Seated Twists, putting one arm behind your back and and looking over your shoulder, with your other arm on your knee or your armrest
8. Mini Hip Circles
9. Open the Tray Table, rest your head on your arms and lean forward as you exhale to get a deeper stretch
10. Mini Cat and Cows, rolling your shoulders forward and backward
11. Eagle arms
12. Raise your arms overhead and stretch
13. Slide your arms forward down your legs as you bend forward, getting a deeper stretch as you exhale
14. Pull your bellly into your spine and your spine into your belly.
15. And for final relaxation, put your seat back and breathe. 

The photo above is of the Napa Valley and was taken from the Wine Train.  A relaxing dinner and ride that included a memorable sunset.  Makes the coach travel worthwhile. 

Grief, Yoga and Irish Wakes, Part 2

Going to a yoga class after Anne Mullaney's wake reminded me that I had done so the day of my mother's funeral in 2009.  This is the reflection I wrote:

My M(OM)

Since beginning a yoga practice over a year ago, I stand taller, breathe more consciously, and have gained in strength, balance and flexibility.  Then in June 2009, my mom died and yoga gave me something much more – a place and a way to grieve.     

Dementia had invaded her mind.  When she spoke it was as if the keyboard that spelled out words in her head had shifted, and out of her mouth came unintelligible syllables in a language only she understood.  She also had diabetes, osteoporosis and arthritis and was confined to bed.   She could barely move. 

My brother and I were with her when she died, in the nursing home where she spent the last 17 months of her life.  I got a call at work that her condition had deteriorated, and within five minutes of arriving, she died.  My brother Frank and I touched her forehead, told her we loved her and kissed her.  She took several labored breaths and then …stopped.

My rote response, when someone would express their sympathy or support, was:  “That’s OK, my mom was sick for a long time”.   Or, “I said my goodbyes to my mom years ago”.   Tears did not come easily because frankly, I was relieved that her suffering was over.

On the day of my mom’s funeral, after everyone went their separate ways, I took a yoga class.  I could not think of any other constructive way to cope or anything I would rather do.  A pregnant woman, apparently taking her first class, was two mats away.  Kris, the instructor, was particularly solicitous in adjusting her postures and assured her that they could be different after the baby was born.  Something about my awareness of her full body and impending motherhood and the intensity of the day’s events became overwhelming. 

During final relaxation, tears trickled from the corners of my eyes and fell to the mat.   

I got into yoga to benefit my health.  At first it was primarily an interest in my physical health.  Then it became more about mental and spiritual health.  One of the more disconcerting (to me, anyway) aspects of yoga that is part of some classes is chanting ‘Om’; it feels too Hindu or Buddhist for my Catholic sensibilities.   

I don’t usually chant.  But that day, at the end of class, I did, three times…“Mom…Mom…Mom”. 

Grief, Yoga and Irish Wakes

After the last two funerals I have been to for someone significant to me, I did the only constructive thing I could thing of to do -- go to a yoga class.  Yesterday I learned what the term 'Irish Wake' means.  I left after five hours and it was still going strong.  It was everything I would have imagined -- beer, stories, laughter, tears, kids, old people, lots of good food, flowers and something unexpected, what appeared to be a professional photographer. The Mass was SRO, the eulogy superbly crafted and delivered -- what a send off.
Since I don't drink beer (yes, I was a friend of Anne Mullaney's and have never had a beer in my life), I started to eat -- lots.  One of the life experiences Anne and I shared was Weight Watchers and I imagine her making some witty yet pointed comment about how many points were in all that stuff I consumed while others were drinking beer.  I recall a few conversations with Anne about yoga, including a particular one about 'legs up the wall' pose and also about our on again, off again relationship with Weight Watchers points. 
Anne's obituary requested memorial contributions to two of her favorite charities (and yes, that school Anne wanted to build in Haiti will be built); many people and organizations sent flowers also.  How many people get flowers from Guinness at their funerals? 
The photograph above is one of the most beautiful arrangements I have ever seen (free plug for Toadflax in Shadyside). 
Anyway, back to yoga.  The evening of my mom's funeral in 2009, I went to a yoga class because I had nothing else to do.  The Irish have it all over the Italians in that respect since they apparently surround the family with activity and love in a marathon-like experience, making the need to find something to do the evening of the funeral a non-issue. 
In 2009, I wrote a reflection on that yoga class that I will add to this post later if I can find it. 

Bait and Switch at the Jesuit Retreat Center

I've been looking forward to this retreat for a long time, Friday through Sunday at the Jesuit  Center in Wernersville, PA  (near Reading).  It attracted me because it was being given by a Paulist priest, Kripalu trained yoga instructor, Father Thomas Ryan.  Since beginning a yoga practice, I have searched for ways to understand and integrate it with Catholic Christian spirituality.  I have learned from a dozen or so teachers from various traditions and taken classes in different cities, countries and even a cruise ship.  Some teachers focus only on the physical and others incorporate chant, discussion of chakras, Sanskrit words, meridians and readings from eastern mystics.  This makes me a bit uncomfortable, since I am pretty much a color inside the lines Catholic.  This weekend was titled, 'Pray All Ways', with one segment dedicated to praying with yoga.  The first session on Friday night was listed on the schedule as meditation.  But at the beginning of the talk, Father Ryan drew a different inspiration from the day's scripture readings for the first week in Lent, set aside his planned topic and replaced it with an entirely new one that was not part of the program -- on Fasting (as in not eating food!).  Needless to say, this challenged me at my flabby core!  I was looking forward to some gentle yoga, silent prayer and relaxation, nothing too hard, and all of a sudden, I am listening to a compelling, cohesive presentation of Catholic Church teaching (from an apostolic constitution from Pope Paul VI and a pastoral statement from the Catholic bishops in 1966) on the value of penitential practice, including fasting.  Talk about a bit uncomfortable?   But, wait I'm diabetic --remember?  As if reading my mind, he said, "And if you're diabetic, maybe your fasting takes the form of fasting from second helpings..."  And another of his points that I recorded while furiously taking notes was, "What we have yet to understand is that the body tolerates a fast far better than a feast."  That was just as I was thinking to myself that maybe I should call Dr. Natalie to see if missing a meal sometimes might be a problem.  My bemused reaction to that thought was that if I don't call her for permission to gorge myself from time to time, do I really have to be concerned that missing a meal or two is grounds for serious medical consultation??  Especially if I am drinking vegetable broth or diluted fruit juice and lots of water?  I think not!!
Anyway, somehow I know that in God's providence and sense of humor, it was no coincidence that he changed his message; this is one I need to relearn.  And I bought his book, "The Sacred Art of Fasting".   Check out his website for http://www.tomryancsp.org/.