We’re a nation of complainers and moaners, us Brits.

Whatever happens we can always find the gloomy side of things.  An island full of Eeyores.

We obsess about the weather, when it rains, when it doesn’t rain.  When it snows the country grinds to a halt and we all say we’ve never seen anything like it.  Even though we saw it last winter, and anyway snow in winter isn’t that much to write home about.

Then when it’s hot we wave our arms about and tell anyone who’ll listen that we like it warm, but this is too warm.

We don’t believe in heroes – we put people on pedestals so we can tear them down again.  Except footballers.  Football is a religion and the players are the archangels themselves.

We complain about a government that nobody voted in (but somebody must have done).

We complain about immigration, even though 25000 of us emigrate to Australia alone every year.

Every other nation in the world hates us (apparently).  But that’s OK.  We’re not overly fond of ourselves.

And our media can create hysterical fear out of ordinary everyday events.

Why?  Because nothing ever happens here.  And I mean that in the best possible way.

I believe Britain to be one of the safest, freest, most democratic country in the world and sometimes us complacent Brits forget how lucky we are.

Lucky to live in a country where gun laws are so strict.

Lucky to live in a country where abortion and contraception are free.  Where maternity leave is a given, where we get holiday and sick pay. Where we can have that X-Ray or operation without worrying if our insurance will cover it.

Lucky to have freedom of expression, freedom of belief, freedom of religion (whatever lies the Daily Mail might tell you).

And lucky to live in a cloudy, grey, damp climate where other weather doesn’t really happen.

Yes we may all have bad teeth and a Vitamin D deficiency but when I wake up to news of a devastating earthquake in Japan, just a day after China and weeks after New Zealand, I am filled with gratitude for the grey and the damp.  For the fact that the most exciting our weather ever gets is getting stuck on the M25 in some sleet or sleeping through the tiniest earth tremor since records began.  That apart from that Really Rather Big Wind in 1987 we don’t have hurricanes or tornadoes, cyclones or whirlwinds.  Yes we have floods sometimes, but really in comparison….

My thoughts are with Japan, with China, with New Zealand, with countries all over the world without human rights, without freedom of expression.

Let’s take a deep breath and not moan for an hour or two and instead be grateful to live on this boring, uneventful, grey little island.

Sometimes when there is a lot of unbloggable stuff going on in my life, my heart stops being in my blog.  But as Emma mentioned yesterday, some of us blog every day (sometimes even twice a day )just because we have told ourselves we will.  Maybe we don’t need to.

The things going on in my life will pass.  All things will pass eventually.  My love and enthusiasm for my blog and my life in general will return.  There are things looming on the horizon that could be wonderful, I’m just working on living in the moment and being mindful.

So today I give you a yoga sequence and some random blanks and we’ll call it even.

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This is a beautiful little spine stretcher, perfect after a long week, a long drive or when life feels a little compressed.

Begin lying on your back, knees bent, feet, knees and thighs hip width apart.

Inhale.  As you exhale allow the tailbone, lower back and middle back to lift slowly up off the floor.

Inhale the arms up and over alongside the ears.

Exhale release the spine slowly down onto the floor, noticing the stretch in between the shoulderblades.

Repeat 5-10 times until you feel taller, until you feel you have made space for everything you need in your life.

Notes

1. If the knees tend to fall out to the sides, grip a block or cushion between the thighs.

2. This isn’t about how high you get the hips – it’s not a classical yoga bridging pose (Setu Bhandasana), this is about lengthening, so think about length as you lift.

3. As you lower the spine back down think about drawing the front ribs into the body.  If you look closely at picture 4 you will see my ribs sticking out a little – this is the scoliosis and should not be emulated!

4. Cats always need to get in on the action!

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Blanks courtesy of Lauren!

When I was a little girl I believed in magical rings.  I mean really believed in them.  It wasn’t just a game I played and really, deep down, I knew there was no such thing.  I genuinely believed that somewhere out there were magical rings that could make you invisible and make your every wish come true.  At the time my greatest wish in the world was to have long straight hair as opposed to a frizzy mess but there it is, the wishes of five-year-olds are always simple.  Praise the gods for hair straighteners.

Now I’m a big girl and I still believe in magical rings.  I spent half my life looking for one and then one found me.

About five years ago I came across the ring in the photograph**.  I was bored at work and randomly searching on line.  I wish I could remember how I came across this particular jewellery site, but I can’t.  This morning I did manage to find the website itself.  Take a look.  I can’t imagine what brought me there – a Jewish jeweller who makes symbolic and mystical jewellery.  Whatever your preconceptions, that really isn’t very me, you know?  Despite the whole believing in magical rings thing.

Anyway, not knowing anything about Jewish mysticism or Kaballah I found myself ordering this ring.  It is the symbol of abundance, and symbolises the power of good will in your life.  I remember it arrived the day after Boxing Day.  It was beautifully wrapped with a note written in Hebrew and English.  I put it on my finger and it’s been there ever since.

The thing about abundance and magic in general is that amazing things happen – amazing things that we need to happen but not the things we think we want to happen.  There’s an important life lesson there, I don’t need to spell it out to you.

Within a month of getting that ring I had met Himself and taught my first yoga class for actual money (not much but that’s yoga for you).  In the five years that I have worn this ring life has had i’s usual ups and downs but when it comes to the things that matter – love, yoga, friends, the life I want to live – they have come, in abundance and in the most unexpected of ways.  You could say this is coincidence.  I say that it proves once and for all that there is such a thing as magical rings.

Now if only it could bring me an abundance of good health….

Do you have a piece of jewellery that is magical to you?  Or any object that has such significance?

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Don’t forget to enter the Operation Beautiful giveaway for a copy of Caitlin’s book!

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** This ring is the Shefa symbol.  The Shefa symbol was received in direct transmission from Archangel Metatron by Dvora Pearlman. It was received as a teacher and a tool to learn, to use and to connect with the great divine.

Shefa is a word in Hebrew that literally means Abundance. This word, in its highest and most profound meaning, means a tool for creating abundance. It holds powerful kinetic energy, the kind of energy that when coupled with one’s intent for the highest goodness and aligned with the Divine will, can move mountains or feed the world.

Yesterday in a whirlwind of controversy (does anything ever happen anymore without a whirlwind of controversy?) the Pope arrived again, a different Pope admittedly, but a Pope nonetheless.  I tell you this not because I want to get into this very controversial debate (for anyone brought up in Catholicism – even the extremely liberal Catholicism that made up my formative years – it is an extremely emotionally charged issue not suitable for a blog of this nature), but instead to introduce the topic of ritual.

I would not call myself a practising Catholic by any means. Pa would call me a “fairweather Catholic” turning up to Mass as I do twice a year at Christmas and Easter for songs and celebration with no intention of putting up with the boring drudgery of the rest of the year. But when I do go I have a feeling of coming home – I still know the Mass off by heart, the smell of incense reminds me of messing about at the back of Chapel as a kid (I was not a child who took things very seriously), even the feeling of the Communion wafer stuck to the roof of my mouth brings back those memories of feeling oh-so-grown-up at my First Communion.

There is a ritual to it all and I think there is something innate and primal in every human being that is drawn to ritual, be it religious ceremony, kirtan or simply stepping on your yoga mat each morning.

My life is filled with ritual from the cup of warm lemon water I drink as soon as I open my eyes, to making my morning pot of coffee.  From the lighting of Nag Champa before my daily asana practice to my need to read for at least 10 minutes before I turn off the light at night, no matter how tired I am.

I believe that the ever increasing popularity of yoga in the West is, despite recent debate,  less about a toned butt, size 0 clothes and Madonna arms and more about this need for ritual in our lives.  I know that my love of ritual and the cultivation of it into my everyday life stems from the ritual of Mass in my childhood and that from this has come my commitment to yoga as a spiritual rather than physical practice.

Do you integrate ritual into your everyday?  How?

When I had my own studio space in London, this was the print I had on my wall.  No gurus, no pictures of overwhelmingly complex yoga postures, no certificates of achievement or charts of sanskrit and certainly no pictures of me (although that’s always good for a laugh).  Just John and a chakra print banner.

At first glance a strange choice for a yoga studio wall.  After all it’s Paul who is the militant vegetarian, George who was the meditator and yogi.  But for me it’s always been John.

I was six when Lennon was shot.  Old enough to realise what had happened and to remember seeing it on the news but too young to realise the impact it had on a lot of people.  Lennon was known for a lot of things, not all of them particularly positive but he has always struck me as a man desperately looking for peace, not just publicly in the world around him but privately within himself.

Whether he achieved this or not is debatable.  Depending on what or who you read or listen to he had depression, anorexia, anger management issues, mother issues all in a time long before anybody felt comfortable talking or admitting these things.  His quest for peace ended with a gunshot.  Oh the irony.

Regardless of what he may or may not have done, to me he is the ultimate modern-day philosopher-poet.  By having this print in my yoga studio I felt I bridged a gap between Classical Yoga and modern life by way of an idealist with very very human failings.  And a lot of students commented on it positively.

So today, the day before 11 September, I’m not going to tell you about where I was when the twin towers fell (mainly because I’m one of those people who doesn’t remember), I’m not going to philosophise about what that day meant or how it changed the world.  I’m just going to leave you with this.  From John.

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one

* I started blogging waaaay back in 2005 (that was several blogs ago).  I was blogging long before I read other blogs.  I guess I like the sound of my own voice.

* I started this blog on Blogger in early 2008 to put my thoughts about giving up law and teaching yoga full time into words.  It used to be called “The Highs and Lows of a Suburban Yogini” but that was a bit of a mouthful.

* I carried on blogging because I started getting comments!  EcoYogini and Green Spell were my first regular readers and for that I am eternally grateful.  Have you seen that scene in “Julie and Julia” where she gets her first comment?  Yeah, that was me!

* In June 2008 Nadine emailed me and interviewed me on her blog.  Through her I “met” Christine and Mary, through them I “met” Phil and Svasti, through Phil (I think?) I “met” Catherine and Stella and on and on like dominoes all in a line.  And every day I get new readers, new comments, new blogs to read (I also have less and less time to read them all but I try, I really do )

* Sometimes I actually get to meet bloggers in real life.

* There is a code of karma in the yoga blogging world.  We agree to disagree.  We don’t get into flame wars.

* There is a blogging synchronicity.  I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve written about a subject only to find somebody else writing about it moments afterwards.  Or moments before.  There is something special in these here internetz.

* Being a British yoga blogger does mean I’m never going to get the gajillion hits that some US  blogs do, but at I kind of like that.  It makes me feel special (go with me here!) and decreases the likelihood of trolls, spammers and the sorts of comments that would make me cry.

* Some of my favourite bloggers have appeared in my dreams.  Seriously.  Is that weird?  This may be a reason why I shouldn’t blog as often to be honest.

* But most of all I blog because if I didn’t I think my head might explode.

(I have used the word blog way too many times in this post.  It’s not even a word.  It should, really, have an apostrophe before it anyway.)

Why do you blog?

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In honour of all this here blogging, I thought I’d pose the questions that Ivy Black (and I cannot for the life of me remember where or how I found her blog) posted answers to yesterday.  I’d love to hear your answers dear readers.  If you partake, post me a link in the comments.

1) What is your favourite time of day?

Sunset.  I’m not a morning person at all (although on the rare occasions I am out and about in the very early morning I can appreciate why people love it so, I just love my bed more), and I’m not really a nightowl either (the joys of CFS!!), but I do like that in between moment as the sun slips down below the horizon and another day begins to end.

2) Where and when did you meet the love of your life?

Well that depends.  You can either read my story, or his story!

3) What three words would your friends outside the blogging world use to describe you?

Emotional, Imaginative, Loud

4) What country would you like to visit and why?

Finland.  I want to see the Northern Lights.  I want to have a sauna and roll in the snow.  But most of all I want to visit the Moomin museum!

5) What is your favourite dish to cook?

Pudding.  Any sort of pudding really.  But especially cake.  Cake is my speciality.

6) Salt or sweet?

Sweet.  Especially in its proper form of cake.

7) What are your must have make-up or beauty items?

Hair straighteners (without them I look like some sort of bog creature), mascara, Rouge Noir nail polish, lip gloss, Lush’s Karma cream and Karma solid perfume and almond oil for hair and cuticles.  Yeah, I’m pretty high maintenance.

8 ) What are your favourite flowers?

I love roses.  I love the fact that our garden is full of rose trees.  I love flowers in general really but only when they are growing in the ground.  Cut flowers make me sad.  Don’t buy them for me please.

9) What do you think are your worst vices, honestly?

Now that would be telling.  I have no vices, clearly.  I am a yoga teacher after all!  I do swear like a trooper but only in the privacy of my own home!

10) At what time of your life were you happiest and why?

Now, obviously.  It’s all we’ve got after all.

Back in 2001, during a period of seriously bad ill health for me, the Ex and I went on holiday to Tunisia.  There was a woman in the hotel who was running a pilates holiday.  She taught pilates on the beach every morning and evening, planned trips for her students and generally ran what looked like a fantastic break.  I was a little bored on this holiday.  There wasn’t much to do and I wasn’t really well enough to do very much anyway, so I became somewhat obsesssed.  Not with the teacher as such but with what she was doing.  What a perfect way to live one’s life, I thought.  One day, I vowed, I’ll do that but with yoga.

Fast forward the clock 7 years and I’m on a beach in Turkey.  It’s six in morning and the sun is rising over the sea.  I’ve just finished my morning yoga practice and now I’m going to breakfast to cheer on the troops and carry on with my work assisting teacher Fiona Agombar at her yoga retreat on the beach.  During the course of the day I may be asked to assist during her classes, help organise trips to the market and the Turkish baths, teach Yoga Nidra, even see some of the participants on a one to one basis.

Thanks to Fiona’s wonderful offer to help her I’d done it. I’d made my dream come true.***

I make it sound so simple.  It wasn’t.  It was 7 years of working in jobs I loathed to get the money together, 7 years of battling with ill health.  But I made a vow to myself back in 2001 and I made it come true.  Because you can.

And  two years after that I’m here I am making a whole ton of other dreams come true, even though right now none of them seem possible!

What dreams are you making come true today?

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** Disclaimer:  it should be noted that I cannot make promises for dreams that bring with them bad karma or those that really are asking for the impossible.  Yes, most things are possible but wishing to rule the world or marry Dave Grohl probably aren’t…..

*** Fiona continues to be an amazing source of inspiration, compassion and understanding.  Can’t thank her enough, if you’re reading Fi, bisous xx

Echoes and silence, patience and grace
All of these moments I’ll never replace
No fear of my heart, absence of faith
And all I want is to be home
– Dave Grohl

Earlier this week, for complicated reasons to do with Himself’s work, I found myself staying at my parents house.  As I woke up in the room that was my brother’s childhood bedroom, I started to think about home.  And what home means.

A week or two ago Catherine  wrote about what home meant to her.  In a comment to that post I said that I felt I’d moved around too much to really call anywhere “home” anymore.  That home was somewhere in my heart .

My parents’ house is not my childhood home. I was 18 and either in a disastrous period at culinary school or Australia when they moved there. My room is sweet and tiny and has a little sink in the corner but it is not “my room”. That is in another house, in another part of Cambridge, hopefully being enjoyed by another angsty teenager with dodgy taste in music.

While I was studying for my Masters degree I lived with my parents. It was brilliant of them to put me up for free and I had a lot of fun living there, but in many ways it was just another move, in a long series of moves throughout my 20s. I’ve lost count of how many houses and apartments I’ve lived in. I’ve never felt rooted anywhere. One of my biggest problems is my inability to stay grounded.

I’m more settled since I’ve met Himself (although having said that I believe we’ve moved four times in the four years we’ve been together) and of course the cats need a roof over their heads. But I still have difficulty telling you what “home” means to me. Sometimes it’s this big comfy purple chair from whence I type my blog each day. Sometimes it’s in bed with a good book. Sometimes it’s on my yoga mat. But there is always a place in my heart, a place made of dreams and hopes and memories, a place that remains rose-tinted, where the sun always shines, that is my home. Bricks and mortar pale into insignificance compared to this.

Where is “home” for you?

A few years ago I took part in a training weekend with Judith Hanson Lasater. I came away from it in awe of her down to earth teaching, her practical skills and the way she oozed feminine divine.

Of course this week, unless you’ve been back under that rock, you will have heard of Judith for her role in the latest yoga-gate controversy – this time about sexed up yoga adverts. Roseanne tells the story here and here. Linda replies to the whole fiasco beautifully, reflecting my own thoughts better than I could, here.

I want to approach all of this from a slightly different angle. I want to ask the universe in general “why the holy hell is yoga causing so much controversy anyway?”

I agree that the female form, naked or otherwise should never be exploited by advertising moguls (and if it’s not exploitation then where are the naked men? I am looking forward to the male naked yoga ad myself, perhaps Anthony Keidis is free, it’s not like he’s never been naked apart from a sock before….), but that is a huge issue way beyond the scope of yoga.

I want to know why a practice that is about balance, about finding inner peace, about creating your bliss, has fallen victim to controversy, bitchiness, narcissism and downright unpleasantness, not just this week but last week, the week before…. Yoga isn’t about competition, it isn’t about who can do the best pose, who has the longest legs, the hottest ass, the funkiest clothes or even who is more or less “yogic” than anyone else (whatever that means).  It shouldn’t be about making the most money, living in a mansion or sitting on a Bikram style throne.  And it certainly shouldn’t be about putting triggering images out into the world (the regular media does enough of that thank you).

Yoga is about each of us as individuals finding our place in the universe, about the ability to connect and balance our body and mind to a point where we are part of the universal consciousness – y’know, our true selves – genderless, perfect and most certainly toesox-less.

I think every single one of us who teaches, practices or writes about yoga need to sit down quietly a little more often and take a deep look inside and ask ourselves why we participate in this beautiful practice. I think ultimately we’d all come out with similar answers. Surely it is this we should be focussing on, rather than arguing amongst ourselves about the validity of something that has been created by our very own f***ed up media.

Stop bitchin’ – do yoga. Just a thought.

And one final word on the whole shebang. Toesox? Really? Now I love a bit of eccentric clothing. Socks with toes are pretty cool but people, people, people, you practice yoga barefoot or not at all. You don’t need “stuff” to practice yoga. Just your beautiful, openminded, openhearted selves.

Love and oms x

I guess I’m one of those people who could be called “privileged”.  I went to private school, my parents were always comfortably off (or at least it always seemed like that to us kids), I travelled the world and studied for two degrees, went on to work in law before finally finding a path teaching yoga.  I always had support, emotionally and financially, from my amazing family.  I’m lucky, and blessed beyond measure.

However, this comes with it’s own baggage.  My life has been much less than the “perfect privilege” it seems from the outside.  Things have happened that left me with anxiety and self-esteem issues.  For years I didn’t think my trivial little problems were valid in the grand scheme of things.  I hadn’t been abused, I didn’t have to walk 20 miles to get water for my family, I had food, a roof over my head, a job.  What more did I need?

Then I met Himself who taught me that everybody’s problems are valid no matter how small they may seem.  Anything that blocks us from attainment of our true selves is a valid problem and shouldn’t be ignored or pushed down or seen as trivial.  It took me all that time to realise I could ask for help for my anxiety.

Every single one of us, no matter what our background or our history, carries some sort of baggage with them.  It’s just human nature.

Sometimes we judge people by what they do or don’t do and by what we might perceive as trivial, but ultimately on the only level that counts, we are all the same, equal, beautiful, valid.

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Did you see Caitlin on the Today show?  If you need further proof of our true beauty and validity watch it here!