Oh, it goes so slowly, and I suspect I don’t fail enough (ah, perfectionism, you’re so cute. Even when the goal is getting things wrong you think you’ve got to do it better), but my brain wants its fix! A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

And once my brain was crying out for some Dance of Shiva and I just had to be sitting at my desk. So I pulled out a pad of paper and started writing out the numbers.

Warning! This was so much tougher than I expected it to be. But I did start noticing patterns I had no idea were in there before.

And for the finale, I was carrying around a ton of baggage (think roller suitcase, carry-on, big tupperware thingy, and purse). Carrying this stuff through places it shouldn’t and couldn’t be carried – up and down stairs, through deep sand, down streets and through neighborhoods.

And finally I got really tired of the burden, and just put it down. And yes, this worried me a little. But when I came back later, it was right where I left it, and I knew I could pick it back up if I really wanted to.

Is there a more embarrassingly obvious metaphor for my own stuff than heavy, cumbersome, baggage?

And then it happened.

And then I stop and get that look: This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

Something is clearly happening after my practices, during shavasana. There’s the swirly, buzzy, crunchy-peanut-buttery sensation. The weirdly addictive mental fatigue. I love it. The thing is, it’s hard for me to put up with it.

Dance of Shiva, on the other hand, is a foreign language.

It is all new — I’m starting from scratch. Andrey suggests looking at the basic movements like the alphabet — that you can arrange them all kinds of ways and they are somewhat arbitrary at first — but they’ll make sense after a while.

Another epiphany here — I can learn a new way of communicating with myself.

I start to write. It’s really hard.

I spewed out a bunch of stuff, none of which I wanted to send.

Stuff about how this practice centers me, but more than that — it brings me a tangible feeling of being in control of my immediate space when I start to get overwhelmed (that cool vortex thing, no doubt).

About how I am all about making crazy connections … as I try to do with my own blog, in which I see shiatsu lessons as life lessons … and Shiva Nata just enhances awareness of those connections by like 300%.

And about how I come right smack face-to-face with that thing my brain does when it’s challenged by things like spreadsheets, or foreign accents, or driving directions dictated by my husband.

Today’s post is from Danielle Cornelius: fellow Portlander, Somaphile, one of my wonderful students and all around amazing person.
Super interesting piece. Yay, Danielle! And thank you!
– Havi

I don’t know about you …
… but I have a bit of a tortured past with exercise videos.
It always begins with the best of intentions … but [...]

Total time spent healing: approximately 25 minutes.
Total time spent avoiding healing: 28 years.

This all seems pretty pat and obvious to me now that I can tie it up in this little package like so, but it’s something that I spent years hating myself for.

Shiva Nata literally scrambled my brain and allowed me to make these deep and hidden connections.

In fact, I truly believe this healing process would have taken way longer if I had not been working with Dance of Shiva (if it would have happened at all, which I kind of doubt).

This knowledge brings all sides of me into harmonious alignment.

Now during Shiva Nata when my leg spazzes forward when I meant for it to go back, and I experience that delicious brain-scramble feeling, my internal dialogue goes something like this:

Airy-fairy-side: Ooh fun!

Intellectual-side: Aha yes, neuroplasticity at work.