Holy Yoga! for the skeptical Christian

Recently a friend asked me how to practice yoga without adopting the Eastern ideologies in full. In other words, how do we get the benefits of yoga without the weirdness?

My answer may be too subjective and convenient-- too choose-your-own adventure for the true yogi and for the traditional conservative Christian alike, so please take this post with a big spoonful of salt. I've got nothing backing up the things I say other than personal experience. I might be wrong, but that being said, when I get off track, God generally convicts me and brings my stupidity to light. Whether I listen or not is another story, but up until this point, yoga hasn't lead me away from my faith. Instead, it helps me stay present in my relationship with God because it trains my mind, body, and spirit to stay rooted.

My answer may also be too long. If you want the main idea, just skim the bold parts…

First, as a Christian, I believe anything can and everything should be worship. 

Worship is a fancy word for honor, which is a fancy word for respect, gratitude, and peace. I understand the turnoff to overused words and Christian catchphrases. Worship, honor, praise... I cringe even as I use them in my attempt to explain, but we're all tied to "church lingo" because it's hard to capture the concepts in words and because it's wrong to simplify language when talking about the sacred. When trying to understand how we are to live, (how we should respond to having been created, how we are to react to the innate spirit inside of us), "being good" doesn't cut it. It doesn't go deep enough. So instead we use broad terms and vague language that, though too lofty, still cannot reach high or wide enough. 

I think of worship as the way we express that indescribable gratitude through thought, word, and deed. Tangible demonstrations of our internal status. For example, hanging out with friends can be an act of worship because it provides an expression of encouragement, community, love, forgiveness, sharing, etc. 

Secular activities (things we do outside of the church building) are still opportunities to worship. And if nothing else, they provide a comparison between God's will and the world's. 

Now, beyond that, yoga is especially geared toward worship. I've never studied yoga; I just like it. And I like it because it brings my attention to staying balanced and keeping focused. It’s about finding your center. For Christians, that center is Christ—the one who connects us to our creator.

Additionally, yoga is a three-fold practice of mind, body, and spirit. Thus in its nature, yoga is reminiscent of the Trinity. It helps me better understand the three-in-one person of God.

Let me ramble about the Trinity a minute. Just as a clover is one stem with three leaves, and a triangle is one shape with three points, God is at the same time Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

1. God the Father, the Creator, in Heaven, the concept of goodness itself. GOD IS LOVE.

2. God the Son, the Model and Healer, on Earth, who took on human form with the name Jesus to show us God in a way that we can understand-- both what he wants, and how a true believer acts; who by dying made it possible for us to go before God. GOD IS LOVE SHOWN.

3. God the Spirit, the Guide, Helper, Communicator, who lives in us, sent to help us understand, to communicate, to believe, to be sincere. GOD IS LOVE RECEIVED.

We can go on with the metaphors… If God is a courtroom, he is judge, lawyer, and jury. If God is a mountain beside the valley, Jesus is the bridge, and the Holy Spirit is the rope railing we hold onto as we cross. If God is wisdom, he is knowledge, teacher, and textbook. If God is a paradise island, Jesus is the water we swim through, and the Holy Spirit is the wind that makes the waves that bring us in. If God is art, he is artist, medium, and sentiment. If God is the Word, he is the idea in the brain, the sound on the tongue, and the understanding in the ear.

Likewise, we’ve been created in God’s image to be three-in-one. We are mind, body, and spirit. Intellect, action, soul. There’s a lot of ways to explain it but pretty much, the mind thinks, the body speaks, the spirit understands. Our minds govern, our bodies obey, and our spirits guide. The spirit wills, the mind decides, the body does. The point is we cannot exist one without all three parts. For a healthy life, it’s necessary to grow each part… Shout out to my Sigma Sigma sorority creed: “Strong body, keen mind, pure heart!”

But really, just as the Trinity works in harmony, we must also train ourselves to work as a whole person, willing, able, and active for God.

Yoga is a form of prayer.

Another way yoga helps my relationship is by providing a practical way to pray.  Yoga is all about meditation and movement set to the rhythm of your breathing. Christians are supposed to meditate, but with purpose and direction-- namely, on the word of God. Through meditation we quiet ourselves enough to be able to communicate.

My first introduction to yoga was through a Sun Salutation which consists of stretching upwards and bowing back down. This Sun Salutation has since turned into The Lord’s Prayer for me. Jesus taught us to pray by giving us the word formula: first honoring God, submitting to his will, and then asking for forgiveness. Putting the Lord’s Prayer to the motions of the Sun Salutation is the perfect way for me to wake up my whole self and start my day with the right perspective. If I try to wake up early to pray in bed, I will soon fall back asleep and miss work completely. The words help align my mind closer to God's and the actions train my spirit to be submissive.

I taught the Lord's Prayer Yoga Motions to my second graders! If anyone's interested, I'll upload a video of them doing it... let me know! 

Yoga connects us to our new selves in Christ. 

Some say that yoga is all about self-worship. Jesus and his followers taught that believers must die to the self. We take on a new self. So, for Christians, the idea of “getting in touch with yourself” or “self help” or “self gratitude” can be translated as getting more connected to our new self, which is Christ.

Just as I believe everything can be worship, I also know that everything can be distorted. Anything, good or bad, can take the place of God in our minds. It’s in our nature to elevate. We have to worship because that’s what we’re created for. So if we’re not actively, intentionally worshiping God and keeping fed by him, then we’re bound to replace him. Yes, yoga could be a replacement, but it doesn't have to be.

 Though I’m not suggesting that we do whatever we want, dabble in whatever religious practice suits us and change the language, I’m also not afraid. I think if we’re being honest with ourselves and blameless before God, he’ll guide us. So far he’s allowed me to use yoga to calm my mind, to strengthen my body, and to take an inward glance at my spiritual state. When my mind is quiet, I can listen to what God has already spoken. When my body is disciplined, I can obey what he’s already commanded. When my spirit is acknowledged, I can see the parts that need help.

Now that I’ve written an essay, let me jot down some practical tips:

-         Stay aware

-         Find a yoga studio that’s less traditional, less legit, less rigid about the spiritual study

-         Find a yoga studio that’s more open or vague (instructors may say “honor the Sacred” or “give gratitude to God however it’s revealed to you”)

-         Practice alone

-         Read the Bible beforehand to get Scripture in your head

-         Look into Christian Yoga classes... from what I've heard, they read Bible verses during the practice

If you’re still unconvinced, I say go try Pilates instead! :]]

Extra-Patriotic Ex-Pat

May 25 was an especially important day for me this year. Not only did I get to talk to my grandfather on the phone for his 89th birthday, but it was also a national holiday. And I got to spend in the heart of the capital with old friends!

Quick history lesson: May 25th in Argentina is Revolution Day, commemorating the week of May 18-25, 1810 that led to the colonial split from Spain and the eventual national independence on July 9, six years later.

Though Argentina is relatively young, her ties to the past are strong. As a country, the people dedicate much of their daily life to the cause of collective memory. You can see it on the streets, with all the street names based on important dates (Av. 9 de Julio, 25 de Mayo, 11 de Septiembre) or political figures (Sarmiento, Mitre), just as you can see it in school. The youth are educated and encouraged to stay in-the-know, if not politically active, as soon as possible.

The school where I work, an international Christian private school located in the suburbs of the city,  represents a multitude of different opinions. Naturally it's going to commemorate the date differently than the die-hard Peronistas in the Plaza.  However, the students were still required to learn about the country's history and encouraged to form their own opinions about what it all means. Our cultural celebration was performed during the week for families and city representatives. It showcased the gaucho (cowboy) culture--the historical folklore that emerged during the beginning years of the country's independence-- through costume, dance, and song.

The country gets a lot of flack for the political turmoil, instability, and corruption. Though history proves the stereotype, political action spread by "militantes" (political activists)  is what gives the country its passion. It's a lot more admirable than it seems on paper. As a whole, I don't believe the people clamor just to make noise. From my perspective, it's genuine. The people care about their past and present because they see how it informs their future.

Also, I've noticed that political frustration is directed at the leaders, not the supporters of the leaders. Maybe that's because there's not a bi-party system in place, so it's not simply Democrat vs. Republican. There's much more gray area, and I sense a common seed of respect for the strong (sometimes confusing) opinions of others. I'd even chance to say that the strong left have more of a problem with the politically unaligned, inactive, and ignorant than they do with the strong right. At any given social gathering, politics will be one of the main topics of conversation. There will be arguments, many Italian gestures sprinkled with expletives. Maybe no opinions change. Maybe they even get more polarized. But here's the thing: Argentines respect your opinion as long as you have one. Political respect isn't earned by being on the same side. It's earned by caring enough to think about an issue.

This is just one of the endearing qualities of Argentina that surprises me. Socially, Argentina is much more communal than the US. In the States, we value healthy competition. That way we can cheer the underdog pulling herself up by her own bootstraps to rise above the rest.  Not so in Argentina. As a whole, the country values the whole of the country. Individual success isn't the overarching goal.

The freedom to voice opposing opinions in Argentina surprises me because when I hear communal, I think "group-think." Similar mindsets. I suppose the calmness is either due to a strong value of friends and family ("we can argue, but we're still connected for life" type thing) OR a trust in the majority ("if we all have and voice our opinions, then the outcome reflects the common needs"). Whereas in the US, the politically active individual seems to think, "I know what's best for everyone." Even as I write this I'm thinking, "But really, I do! My way works!"

Okay I think I've gone por las ramas and I'm running my mouth about things I don't fully understand. Let me stick to the facts...

Saturday virginia and I went to the races for some free horse action and brass band anthems. 

We also got serenaded by this group. 

Then on Sunday, Vale invited me to celebrate the holiday with her. After lunch at the house, Marcelo, Vale and I headed to the Plaza de Mayo to hear President Kristina speak and celebrate the country's independence.

Argentina is beautiful and weird and unique. Hopefully from what you see you fall in love for yourself!

Córdoba, tierra de cantantes

Last week I had the awesome opportunity to get to know another part of Argentina! Thursday, May 1st was Labor Day and BAICA hopped on board with the country's declaration of Friday as a bridge holiday to promote travel.

So travel I did.



With my friend Alyssa, we semi-cama-ejecutivo'd it on over to Córdoba.



The Travel-Buddy:
This was my first trip with Alyssa and it worked perfectly. What I lacked, she had. We shared the planning and decision-making very evenly and it was just the kind of company I needed.






The Overview:
beige colored buildings
bluer than blue skies
churches and cathedrals around every corner
pretty place but it's the people who make it.

It was a trip of buses, five towns (Capital, St. Rosa, Villa Gen. Belgrano, La Cumbre, Villa Giardino) in two days
a trip of meeting people, accepting hospitality, saying yes to a despedida, to dinner, to being taxied
we slept on overnight buses after whisky night caps, against windows on windy roads
we shared the bed of a stranger who worked in Cirque du Soleil
we stayed in a mom and pop hostel named accordingly in Quechua "Mamacha Tatai."





The Highlights: 
Though Cordoba was beautiful, I was more impressed with the people we met. Our couchsurfing host not only gave us a place to drop our stuff and crash for the night, but he integrated us into his group of friends. We went to an asado despedida party for a French girl who'd been living with him for over 2 months. All together we danced, ate, jumped rope, and made music.





The hostel in Villa Giardino immediately felt like home. The owners, the mom and dad, the Mamacha and Tatai stay true to their Interior Argentina Provincia de Santa Fe roots. After greeting us warmly and giving us a tour, they immediately sat us down with some mate. Then they got to know us. Their warmth and sincere interest blew us away. That night, we came back to a family dinner that they cooked for us. On our last day, the father took his car out to get in some final sight-seeing, and when it was time to leave, both got in the car to see us off. They left the hostel in the hands of the other two families staying there and drove us to the bus station where they waited with us. Kind doesn't cover it.



Another highlight was this dog that found us. On our last day after the mini tour by our "Dad," we walked from Villa Giardino to la Cumbre, lunched there, then took the bus back. We wanted to make it to the water that we saw on the tourist map before heading back to Cordoba Capital, so we went exploring. All we found were more dirt roads after more dirt roads, farms, and strangers staring at the obvious out-of-towners. But then a dog showed up. I don't know how to explain it because even in the moment we were incredulous, but this dog could understand us. He led us for about 45 minutes in total, to the water and back by shortcut. It was bizarre. And once we made it back to where we knew how to get to the main road, just as fluidly as he became our guide, he left our side without any goodbye.



My Dos and Don'ts of Cordoba:
Don't forget shoes when you go to the bathroom on the bus
Do take off your socks immediately
Do couchsurf
Do go to the party
Do talk until they understand
Don't trust tourist reviews
Do sleep sitting up
Do wear layers
Do follow dogs instead of people
Do use coats as covers
Do take advantage of the Mexican food
Don't take someone else's word for it

 

The Wrap-Up:
A hug good-bye at the bus station
We came to see streams and mountains, to get away from the crowds and bluster. In the end we rode buses, we slept with half our bodies hanging off half a twin bed, we gently decided not to wash with hair-covered soap in houses that were named our homes by a circus worker with two starving cats, a bucket full of locro with a French girl on his floor and seven South American dwarves;
by a silky bearded man with sharp eyes and a glowing fire face-- a modern viking Agnostic tamed by a pony-tailed woman with ulcers behind her eyes and heart full of honey, by two black dogs forgotten how to bark, sleep twitching their paws and tails lazy as the tie of a grandfather clock.
We looked for Christ standing grand and white, arms spread high above the city. We found him in a dog who led us through prickers to running water and back. We came to buy chocolate and left with a sweetness that lingers long after.



Thanks to Andrew for information, to Katy for the couchsurfing contact, to Gaby for being a great host, to Adriana and Bene for treating us like daughters, and to everyone back home for the prayers!

Waiting Room pt. 2

Good friends have told me it's hard to be in God's Waiting Room.

It's true. But at the same time, the details don't really matter. I don't think it matters if I go by train or bus, whether I wear a dress or pajamas, if I'm in Maine or Argentina, whether I stay or go-- I already know what I'm supposed to do. My calling is the same as all other Christians: love God, love others.

That we can do wherever we are, whatever we do. As long as I look to God to help me with that (which is, by the way, the only way I can even attempt it), he'll bring me where he can use me... IF and when he wants to.

Even Jesus said Not my will, but Yours.

Not my plan. Not even "God's plan for me," but God's plan-- and may I please take part?

Though I'm annoyed at being thrown back into the job search cycle, it's not that important and it's not all that bad either. I'm still young, meaning that I'm responsible for just myself. I don't have a family to support. I'm free and stable enough to entertain and explore many different directions. Really, I should be excited!

And if not excited, at least not overwhelmed, because I'm not alone. All I've gotta do is trust, try to listen, and keep my focus on the things that really matter. Then I can enjoy whatever comes along and take advantage of the time I'm given. Through the slight discomfort of the unknown, I recognize how blessed I've been and how lucky I am to have options.

It's all a matter of perspective.

Yes, I'm stressed, but I'm working to channel that stress into adrenaline and then into action.

Trust is a choice not to worry.
Luke 12:25
Which of you by being anxious can add a cubit to your height?
Matthew 6:27
And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to your life? 

In the Waiting Room, what do you do?
You wait...as patiently as possible.
You read and relate.
So in God's Waiting Room, I can read the Bible (which I love more every time I open it) and relate with the people sitting next to me (whom I'm learning to love slowly but steadily).

Waiting is not the same as wasting time. Pray that I understand that with a positive, proactive attitude!

The Waiting Room pt. 1

The last day before the Feriado I made myself an ultimatum and visited the Director's office to continue our ongoing conversation. The ultimatum: try or you've given up... Go or else it's a default no. The conversation: the future... Continuing opportunities at BAICA.

I told myself, in the absence of a yes, it's a no.

As I was hired as a long-term substitute for the duration of the 2nd Grade teacher's Maternity Leave, my contract lasts until the end of the school year. June 16 to be exact, which is a little more than a month. I knew that from the start. Aside from the security of an income, housing, a Christian community, I accepted the job and came to Argentina without official expectations-- just the hope that the school and I would be a good fit. I liked the idea of testing it out before I had to commit.

Well, a month or two back, I let the school know I was ready. Given the opportunity, I would sign on for a full term-- a contract for two years.

My supervisors gave me great feedback and I got my hopes up. Planning was quicker, teaching was smoother, class management became a thing I could understand. The job felt right.

Since then, it's been a back-and-forth between the school and me. Sincere talk, waiting, checking in, praying, looking for loopholes... Problem is there's no position for me. Regardless of my performance, I don't have the right qualifications. BAICA is an accredited school with an American curriculum and I didn't study education. Full time teachers have specialized transcripts, not just teaching certificates.

Well, on Tuesday I tried one more time. I left my self-preservation on my desk, walked upstairs to Andy's office, and straight out asked about my options. What I got was more positive feedback and inconclusive answers. They say I've got the natural knack for teaching and they're pleased with me... but that my future at BAICA looks bleak.

The gist is they don't want to close the door on me, but neither can they open doors that aren't there. And if it's not a yes, it's a no.

This answer of course had to come on the same day that the First Graders ask, "Miss Keenan, will you be our teacher next year?"... The same day a Kindergarten boy hugs me and says, "I love you! I can't wait till Second Grade!"

I don't want to leave. It feels like defeat.

The good news is I learned a new skill. More or less on my own, I figured out how to teach a 2nd Grade bilingual classroom in a few short months. I met amazing people, got to come back to Buenos Aires, and regained some confidence... but still, it feels a little like a break up. Something good is coming to a close and I can't say I'm ready for it.

Not only that, but I'm not ready to start the job hunt again. I'm not cut out for networking, searching, applying, and presenting myself as the best candidate. I really hate the whole thing. (But really, who doesn't?)

Boo hiss.

Decision time...

Entre Rios

List of observations:

+ Families on motos: father in front, mother in back, babies in the middle
+ No helmets, no fear
+ Misty morning palm trees
+ People more than pleased to give directions
+ Abandoned circus equipment
+ Dogs self grooming their backs on grass
+ Police pulling over with flashlights
+ Black water bugs the size of half my hand living in the hot springs, hiding in shadows
+ Telos running in the road
+ Age shows in water
+ Hot springs at night is an adult prom dance
+ Roads reminiscent of Maine driving
+ Gnats birthing in the heat, cloud around the river
+ Overrated dance-you-deaf night club
+ Fishing with sticks for lightbulb bottom feeders
+ Cheap chicken breasts
+ All calm, all right

Moving On, Moving Out

On the move again, which means I haven't stayed in one place longer than three months since graduating last May! Coming from a girl who grew up in the same small town, in the same room, in the same house since birth, who attended the same small school since Kindergarten until college, it's a pretty drastic difference.

In less than a year, I lived almost alone in Tulip Time Town, with sisters in Euphoria,
with my grandmother in a Field in Bloom, I've lived as a guest in my home, Vacationland,
in a one-window room along the river in Greater Good Air, and now I move to España, where the door never stays closed.

Five towns
Eight rooms
Six moves
Eleven months

Here's the list:
Jumanji; Holland, MI; with Michele, Jordan, Alyssa, Emily, and Katy; August 2013- May 2013
Smith's; Holland, MI; with Megan; May 2013 - July 2013
Euphoria; Holland, MI; with Erika, Jon, Kara, Carmina, Kreb, and Holmwood; July 2013- August 2013
Nammy's; Bloomfield, CT; with Nammy; September 2013
My room; Cape Elizabeth, ME; with family; October 2013
Guest room; Cape Elizabeth, ME; with family; November 2013 - January 2014
Vero's; Beccar, Buenos Aires; with Vero, Jemy, and Chachi; February 2014 - April 2014
España; San Isidro, Buenos Aires; with Becky, Kait, Lauren, Julie, and Courtney; April 2014 - June 2014

One of the teachers got married in April, so they painted up her room and I moved in to España-- a high-ceilinged BAICA-owned house on the street named España where the single teachers live. There are 6 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, 2 couches, and a kitchen with high counters.

Some things I'm looking forward to at the new place:
-being in the same boat, being on equal ground, being part of the group
-having a day to wash laundry
-having common cooking items, soap, and toilet paper
-taking the bus with other people
-having a built-in social setting



Some special surprises:
-Quique helped me move all my things
-there's sheets I can use
-there's a towel I can use
-there's a nice view
-there's plenty of space and storage places
-the gate locks on its own

All the moves exhaust me but they remind me... It's not my time to root down yet. Material things, stuff weighs on me. Clutter is a burden. Everything I need will be provided. Situations change. Family is made by giving myself to others-- by paying attention, asking questions, making an effort. Buildings absorb the energy inside them. My work will pay off.

The concept of home is complex and much more figurative the older I get. Home is fluid-- like liquid, it takes the shape of where I choose to put it.