How yoga can make childbirth and other hard things easier

Posted by Hala Khouri

“There is no coming into consciousness without pain.  People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own soul.  One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” ~ CG Jung

I’ve always been a happy person.  People always commented on how optimistic and bright I was.  All that was true, well, mostly.  Iwas happy, I was optimistic; yet my positivity was slightly manufactured.   I was positive because I refused to feel the negative stuff. You see, I believed that “everything happens for a reason”, there is nothing “bad” because those things help us grow, and that I can create my own reality.  I was positive because I had learned to bypass the negative, and that comes with at a price.

My senior year of collage I went through a difficult breakup.  He had been my high school sweetheart.  We broke up sitting in a park in downtown Manhattan.  As I boarded the subway back uptown, I was in tears.  Heartbroken.  By the time I got to my stop at 116th street the tears were gone, and I had decided this happened for a reason and it was for the best.  When my roommate asked me what happened, I told her that Al and I had broken up, but that I was fine because it was I had learned so much from the relationship and had grown from it.  I didn’t shed one tear nor feel any sadness.

Over- understanding

I did this with most difficult thins in my life- I like to call it “over-understanding.”  I would try to figure out the lesson in something so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain.

Five years later, I found myself sitting in a doctor’s office being told that I had cancer cells on my cervix. My mother burst into tears. Me, I looked at her and told her that this happened to teach me a lesson about my second chakra, and I was going to embrace it. Again, not one tear or acknowledgment of fear. I knew there was a lesson and I was going to be a good student and learn it so that I wouldn’t have to face this again.  Yeah, right.

The price we pay

So what’s the price we pay for manufactured positivity?  Well, if we refuse to feel the pain, fear, grief, heartbreak, anger or rage, those emotions are held hostage in the body and make our mind and emotions unstable.  The shadow, as Jung called it, gets gagged and tied and put into a closet somewhere. And the less we acknowledge the scary stuff, the louder it bangs on the door of our psyche. If we don’t express ourselves and feel the feelings we can end up sick, disconnected, unable to have true intimacy, etc.

Yoga

For me, yoga is a practice of sitting with discomfort and breathing through it.  On the other side of sitting with this, is more freedom.  Don’t get me wrong, I spent years doing yoga without sitting with my discomfort- I was simply focused on getting the poses exactly right. One day a teacher was inviting us to try to lift our supporting hand off the floor in half moon pose.  He walked over to me and said, “try it, you won’t hurt yourself if you fall.”  I realized that I wasn’t afraid to fall, I wasn’t trying it because I was afraid of doing it imperfectly. My perfectionism was keeping me from taking risks; it was also keeping me from having to be present because all I focused on was how I could make the pose better. My habits on my mat revealed to me my habits off my mat.

As my practice matured, it got simpler, and I got more present in my body and in the moment.  As I learned to tolerate discomfort (and imperfection), I got present to the ways in which I’m limiting myself by needing to always seem so happy, perky and put together.  I began to feel my anger, rage, sadness, sensuality and fabulousness.  (The shadow is not all bad stuff by the way- it’s anything we’re afraid to acknowledge).

I’ve gotten way better at sitting with discomfort.  As a therapist, it’s one of the most important things I can do for my clients- bear witness to their pain without rushing to take it away.  As a parent, I’ve found that if I can sit with my kids’ discomfort for a moment or two they will more quickly pass through tantrums and upsets because I’m not rushing them out of their experience or trying to tell them that they shouldn’t have it.

Childbirth

During the birth of my second son, I watched my old habits come back at the point where things got very intense.  Here’s a somewhat graphic synopsis:

I’m squatting in my living room starting to push. Since I had done this before, I was overconfident.  My first birth was “easy” as far as births go, so I assumed that number two would be even easier.  I wasn’t anticipating that he would be a pound-and-a-half bigger- that makes a difference, let me assure you.  As I’m doing the final pushes and feeling like I’m going to be ripped in half, I start to get scared.  Maybe I can’t do this, I think to myself.  To cope with the pain, I start to imagine the tranquil women giving birth in a water birth video, and I imagine holding my baby in my arms, I start to breath deeply….  But each time I do that, I feel the baby slip back up the birth canal.

My midwife catches it, “No more deep breathing Hala,“ she says, “ you have to bear down and push as hard as you can, and I need you to go here, “ she points to the part of me that feels like it’s literally on fire.  This was the part I was trying to avoid with my daydreams.

Shit, I think to myself.  I know that if I don’t go there, to the most painful place in my body, I will not be able to get my baby out.  I remember all that I’ve learned in my life about bypass, and knew I was at a crossroads.  If I didn’t go directly to the place that scared me the most, I would have complications and have to go to the hospital.  I knew that going right into the fear would be the quickest way to get my baby.  So I shut down the old survival mechanism, bore down, and in three pushes had my precious baby.

The Lesson

Whenever we are birthing anything, we face death: death of who we were, death of old belief systems, death of old habits.  It’s never easy, but when we avoid the pain, we avoid the joy and bliss as well.  Embracing our shadow is about embracing life, vitality, joy and happiness.

I think that many of us suffer because of the habits we have that keep us from feeling our deepest discomforts.  Habits like drinking, drugs, over-eating, numbing out with TV, co-dependent relationships, etc.  Trying to avoid pain is at the root of all addiction.  Yet the addiction has all these terrible side effects.  Even the side effects seem to be more tolerable that the thing we’re avoiding; yet the more we avoid that monster all bound up in our closet, the bigger it becomes.  Or so we think.

What I’ve learned through decades of personal work and years of being a counselor is that the thing that we’re avoiding is usually not going to destroy us.  But our addictions might. Allowing ourselves to feel our sadness, grief, anger or rage can liberate us from the prison of avoidance.  When we’re no longer trying to avoid ourselves, then we are truly free!

*If you or someone you care about is pregnant, check out my new pre natal yoga DVD- Radiant Pregnancy.  Purchase here

*if you want some tools for working with unexpressed feelings please check out my Yoga for Stress Reduction DVD. Purchase here

If You Are a Yoga Teacher, Admit it: You are Co-dependent & Needy.

Posted by Hala Khouri

My name is Hala. I am a yoga teacher. I am co-dependent and needy.

I had to admit this to myself in order to grow as a teacher and step into an authentic leadership role.

If you are a teacher of any kind, you have to do this too.

You see, I wasn’t a cool kid. I had frizzy hair, a strange name (no “Hala” is not a spiritual name I picked up in my 20’s—it’s a Lebanese name that I dreamed of changing, to Julianna or Irene, for most of my adolescence) and I never fit in.

When I started teaching, it was the first time I felt really accepted by a large group of people. For a long time, I unconsciously got my need to feel accepted and liked met by my students. When I realized that my inner 12 year old was (partially) motivating me to teach, I had to examine it, unpack it and tend to the part of me that was in a lot of pain.

It is a particular type of person who wants to become a yoga teacher; not everyone is interested in standing up in front of a group of strangers and telling them what to do with their bodies and their breath. Not everyone is interested in being a teacher or a healer.

Yet, for many of us who teach, we can’t imagine anything more fulfilling.

I’ve been training yoga teachers for over a decade now and I have seen that many of us have similar life experiences and issues that motivate us to teach.

Here are some of the common themes I have noticed in people interested in being yoga teachers—see if any of them relate to you (or your yoga teacher):

1. We had a parent that suffered from depression or mental illness; as a result we can be extremely empathetic and attuned to others, sometimes to a fault.

A child with an unavailable or unpredictable parent had to learn to tune into their parent in order to assess if their environment was safe or if their needs were going to be met.

As a result of that, we develop a keen sense of tuning into the mood and state of others, often at the expense of being tuned into ourselves. As teachers, our students often feel that we are speaking directly to them in a group class, or that we are intuitive about what others are going through.

It comes naturally to us to empathize and want to meet the needs of others. It does not, however, come naturally for us to ask for what we need.

2. Felt like they didn’t belong as children or adolescents and have a need to feel seen by others in a positive light.

Yoga teachers get to be the popular kid. Our students listen to us, like us, and often idealize us. This feeds the part of us that didn’t get that type of mirroring in our youth.

We are good at getting others to like us, but if our teaching is motivated by our need to be liked, we might limit some important lessons that our students need which may make them uncomfortable.

3. We can have a hard time setting boundaries and get overly invested in wanting to help others.

This is probably due to #1.

You see, if my inner child didn’t have her needs met by mommy or daddy, I’m going to seek out people who have similar limitations/dysfunctions and try to fix them so that I can feel in control. Since I’m so good at tuning into someone’s pain, those people feel comfortable opening up to me because they feel seen by me.

I feel good because I’m they respond to me and listen to me (unlike my parent).

4. We need validation from others and will go to great lengths to ensure that others like us and even idealize us.

For those of us who really didn’t get much positive regard from our parents, we might become they type of teacher that thrives on the attention and adoration of our students.

We will also do whatever we can to make sure that no one questions us or sees our shadow side. We’ve all seen these folks—they’re charismatic, charming and often totally narcissistic.

They may claim to be above everyone, and somehow have transcended normal human challenges, they may subtly shame students in order to maintain a sense of power over them, some even claim to possess secret powers and abilities.

You may have other issues other than the one’s above, but in my decades of doing therapy, yoga trainings and transformational work, I have learned one important thing: our wounds are often the source of our gifts, and if we don’t investigate our wounds, they will get in the way.

This is true for any profession, but particularly important for those who hold space for others to be vulnerable. It is our responsibility to do our personal work, otherwise, we can cause harm to those who are trusting us with their bodies, minds and hearts.

We all have a shadow side; no one is exempt from pain or trauma.

I love teaching yoga, and I have spent a lot of time tending to my own wounds so that they don’t get in the way of my teaching. This work is never ending and I’m constantly having to see my own blind spots, biases, limitations and fears.

Each time I courageously face these parts of myself that I’d rather stuff into a closet, I find that my ability to hold space for others gets stronger, and I’m able to see others for who they are without judgment.

If you teach yoga or hold space for others in any way, it is vital that you have a space that someone else is holding for you—a space where you get vulnerable and are seen; a space where you are held accountable and get nurtured in a compassionate way; a space where you can shed the teacher role and receive.

This way you can be empathetic not enmeshed, supportive not diminishing, empowered rather than oppressive and compassionate rather than needy.

Is Your Yoga Really Working?

Posted by Hala Khouri

You know your yoga practice is working when your life gets better, not when your yoga gets better.

You know who I’m talking about.

Maybe this was you; maybe this is you. The mala bead wearing, namaste talkin’, slightly arrogant, super neurotic, I-never-eat-meat-refined-flour-or-non-organic-food, type.

The person who looks down on anyone who doesn’t do yoga, isn’t vegan, has “negative energy” or has a corporate job.

I know this person because this person was me.

When I lived in New York City, I would pause when I walked by a McDonald’s and pray for the people inside. I prayed that they would find enlightenment and stop eating such low quality food made with tortured animals and additives.

Then I would walk off, feeling better than everyone and very satisfied with myself.

You see, yogis don’t overtly judge—we cover it up in spiritual guise.

I practiced yoga religiously, I was a vegetarian, I had mantras memorized, I’d been to India and could get both feet behind my head. Meanwhile, I was stuck in a codependent relationship, addicted to sugar and in a constant battle with a core belief that I wasn’t enough.

For me, yoga is a tool for self-awareness. When we are self-aware, we can cultivate compassion.

Compassion for ourselves is where it starts; if we don’t have that, we’re destined to idealize or demonize others. Yoga teaches me to remain grounded in the moments when I want to be reactive.

My yoga practice has forced me to face my inner critic and start to let go of my perfectionist (who believes that I only deserve love if I’m perfect). If I think that I need to be perfect to be worthy of happiness, then I will subconsciously be thrilled when I see others being imperfect (like the folks eating Mc-y- D’s, or someone doing an improper chatturanga), for this gives my flailing self-esteem a fleeting boost.

Back when I used yoga as a whip with which to beat myself, I was drawn to more punitive teachers who made me feel worthless and want to strive for their approval. I wanted to master the inner spiral, and the rooting of the big toe while doing perfect Ujayi breathing and staring at a drishti.

As I started to get wiser and see that perfectionism is a dead end road, I started making different choices. My practice turned into an opportunity to love and accept myself exactly as I was in that moment (that concept would have made me throw up in my mouth previously).

Today I know this: the purpose of discipline is to create more freedom. If your discipline just leads to more discipline, it ain’t workin’ baby! I knew my sugar addiction was cured, not when I stopped eating sugar, but when I could have one or two pieces of chocolate without inhaling the entire bar and then going for another one while drowning in my own shame.

If you are like I was, and you’re imprisoned by a quest to be the perfect yogi, ask yourself this question,”What am I afraid would happen if I let go a little? What am I trying so hard to control?”

I am not suggesting that discipline is bad; in fact, it’s necessary.

As a step towards freedom.

I don’t look back on my years of discipline and think I did the wrong thing; I just see now that I was mistaking the boat for the shore. I know my yoga is working because I’m happier. My relationships are healthy, I don’t have a voice in my head all the time telling me that I’m worthless.

I can’t get my feet behind my head anymore, I don’t do full splits or balance in handstand, and I have a slightly pudgy belly. And I’m happy! Not perfect—I have a lot more to learn and I’m okay with that.

Next time you’re on your mat, ask yourself this question, “Who am I being right now?”

Many years ago I was in a very packed, sweaty, vinyasa flow class filled with overachievers. At one point the teacher said to us, “So you can do all this fancy yoga, but does anyone want to hang out with you?”

Do they?

Are We Ready to Really Live by Our Deepest Values?

 Posted by Hala Khouri

A week ago I moderated a panel discussion on corporate responsibility and yogic values at Yoga Journal LIVE! NYC. The panel included leadership from Lululemon Athletica (including the new CEO Laurent Potdevin) as well as bloggers and yoga teachers who have been critical of the company. This has begun a conversationamong yoga practitioners that I think is very important.

Panelists and audience members at The Practice of Leadership shared their concern that Lululemon does not operate according to yogic values, and thus is not a true reflection of the yoga community. Many expressed their opinion that Lululemon should change its marketing and production practices to be more inclusive and have more integrity.

I want to break down these arguments.

I’ll start by sharing who I am, which inevitably informs my perspective. I am a mother of multi-cultural children, a trauma therapist, co-founder of Off the Mat Into the World, a yoga teacher, a Lebanese immigrant, straight, able-bodied, educated and white (white is an ambiguous term that typically refers to people of European descent, so some would argue that I’m not white, but I pass as white and thus receive benefits from my skin color).

Who are we referring to when we say “yoga community”?

The way I see it,  Lululemon,  Yoga Journal, and most mainstream yoga studios, operate from the belief that the “yoga community” is mostly made up of upper/middle class, white, heterosexual, able-bodied, slim women. This is the audience they appear to cater to.Yet there are lots of other people doing yoga out there who may never walk into a mainstream studio, Lululemon store, or purchase a copy of Yoga Journal. I’m talking about people of color, poor people, people who are incarcerated, veterans, fat people, disabled people, queer and transgender people, old people, etc.  And this is one of the problems with talking about a “yoga community”: There is not just one community of people all connected through their love of yoga.  In fact, I believe that this lack of cohesion is, sadly, a reflection of the larger divide that exists in our society—there is the community of privilege, and then there is everyone else.

If yoga means union, then we should not allow ourselves to be a reflection of the divide that exists in world at large. If we strive for greater consciousness, we should think critically about whom we see as included in our community—and whom we don’t. I know that some yogis are now thinking to themselves, “But everyone is welcome at our studio, no one is turned away!” And I’d say: This is a sweet, yet naive sentiment. Not rejecting people is not the same as actively creating spaces that invite everyone, and where everyone feels included.

This is where corporate responsibility and marketing comes in.

Do companies such as Lululemon and Yoga Journal have a responsibility to market yoga differently?

Lululemon is a multi-million-dollar company, with incredible visibility (254 stores worldwide and growing). Yoga Journal sells more than 300,000 magazines a year and is seen by millions.  Because these companies are so visible, they play a significant role in shaping the cultural image of what yoga is. So when these companies portray yogis as white, able bodied, and slim, they definitely send a message about who yoga is for. This message is so strong that Leslie Booker, and African American yoga and mindfulness teacher, says that in every class she teaches to youth of color, she has to convince them that yoga is not just for white people. I’m always surprised when someone tells me that they couldn’t ever do yoga because they’re not flexible enough, as if that were a prerequisite. We’re scaring away people who could use yoga the most!

What is the consumer’s responsibility here?

Corporations are fed by consumer dollars. We can’t complain about their marketing practices without acknowledging that we’ve been feeding the mouth of the beast that we are now fighting. Profit-driven companies will inevitably respond to consumer demand, so as we ask them to change their ways, we must also change ours. There is a segment of the yoga community (and now I am using the phrase to include the community of everyone who does yoga) that lives by yogic values, and put their dollars where their values are. But there are a large number of people who do yoga who have not yet connected their practice on their mat to the rest of their lives.

This is the challenge we’re tasked with.

If we are to transform the yoga community to a yoga movement, which is what I believe is called for, we have to find a way to engage in a conversation about what yogis value and how we can live those values in all aspects of our life. It’s easy to have this conversation with others with the same values, but how do we engage with those who don’t feel the calling to be part of this movement? How do we engage everyone who loves yoga, our true yoga community, in a way that is respectful to all points of view?

Privilege is real, and must be checked; but the truth is, the average mainstream yogi is swimming in an ocean of unacknowledged privilege. I know because that has been my process. I fit the mainstream yoga ideals in many ways (slim, white skinned, educated, and flexible). I’ve spent the last 15 years of my life unpacking my privilege (as well as the ways in which I don’t have it). Each time I think I’m aware, I find a new blind spot, it can be as small as little as realizing that band aids match my skin but not dark skin, or as big as taking for granted that I’m never going to be judged by my skin color or gender identity.

How it can be different.

My vision is that the face of yoga includes everyone; that yoga does not appear—in advertising, in magazines, in the branding and marketing to a target audience, even in our own assumptions about it—to be an elite practice for a select few. Instead I want to see yoga portrayed and celebrated as something that everyone can benefit from.  In order for this to happen people who do yoga need to actively stand together. We need to use our voices, our purchasing power, our patience, our ability to stay grounded and have difficult conversations, our passion, and our dedication to strive toward letting all aspects of our life reflect our practice.

Carol Horton, who was on the panel, wrote a great piece about the possibility of creating a new paradigm around corporate practices. She offers some compelling solutions having to do with marketing, production, community building, and staff training.

What does this mean for you?

If you do yoga, and want your practice, and all aspects of your life, to reflect your deeper values, consider these questions:

Where in your life are you not making choices that are in alignment with what you value?

What would you need to give up or change in order change this?

Are you willing to sacrifice some of your privileges in order to live with more integrity?

What is one thing you can do right now to move toward this?