Thanks, Simone – this pretty much says it all!

Some good things to read:

• North Carolina workshop – DIY travel arrangements
• Help me out? Title for the Shivanaut Manual?
• Shiva Nata Teacher Trainings — Feb 2011– DIY travel

Okay. Here’s Demon Llama!

It began by accident.

I was recently asked to take on some coaching duties for my derby league.

And I’ve started teaching them Shiva Nata.

When I introduced this practice to the league, one of girls asked how it was useful for derby. I wrote up some notes to share on our league’s board. … and here’s what I’ve got:

How is Shiva Nata is useful for Roller Derby?

The answer is this:

I’m pretty sure that EVERYTHING about Shiva Nata is useful when you’re training for derby.

But here are a few specific things that come to mind, although I’m sure there are many more.

Mistakes:

Basically the whole idea of Shiva Nata is that if you aren’t screwing it up constantly then you aren’t going to get that much out of it.

Making mistakes and moving through them are part of your experience, but it’s also one of the hardest things to adapt to at first.

In any bout situation, mistakes are going to happen.

You’re going to look one way and the opposing jammer is going to fly by you on the other side.

Maybe you’re jamming and you trip over your own feet.

If you’re beating yourself up over this stuff, it’s hard to adapt to what is actually happening.

Shiva Nata helps you get used to the idea of not getting attached to the screw-ups; just moving through them and trusting that you will get better each time.

Shiva Nata also shows you the patterns behind the screw-ups. Also the patterns behind the self-recrimination. And what to do about it.

The ability to take in multiple things going on at once.

In Shiva Nata, you’ve got one arm spiraling in one direction, the other arm spiraling in the opposite direction, trying to say the numbers out loud too, oh and for good measure you can throw in a leg going in some other direction.

In derby, look forward, you look backward, play offense, play defense, communicate with your team mates, and stay on your skates (among other things).

Shiva Nata trains your brain to be able to handle multiple different kinds of information AND to communicate that with your body.

To think & move at the same time.

Team work.

Especially when you’re just starting out, mirroring someone else lets you attune to what their body is doing and trust that they are showing you what to do.

This is a great way to get used to the idea of physically working with your teammates — like when you need to form a wall that is capable of staying together and stopping an opposing player.

Even when practicing on your own, you are asking separate parts of your body to cooperate with you, to respond to the messages you are sending them.

The better you are able to communicate with your own body, the better you can communicate with your teammates, and more intuitively too.

Using one part of your body in one way while simultaneously using another part of your body in a different way is useful cross-training for jammers — being able to fake in one direction, while simultaneously getting your legs moving in the other direction.

Shiva Nata is great for core & upper body strengthening.

Anyone who has had the pleasure of taking a hit on skates knows how important core strength is, so anything you can do to build on that = awesome.

Also, I think upper body work tends to get forgotten in the focus on legs & core, but one rotator-cuff strain and you won’t forget it again.

I’m always surprised by how easy it is to fatigue my arms doing Shiva Nata, and unlike weight lifting (which is awesome too) Shiva Nata keeps your muscles dynamic, so they aren’t just strong, but they move with strength.

And being dynamic is fundamental to derby — we’re on wheels!

Shiva Nata teaches you to stay out of “the middle”.

“The middle” is that dangerous place where you think you don’t need to improve anymore. Shiva Nata celebrates mistakes because that’s where you are pushing your mind and body into new territory, forming new neural connections.

Bringing that to your derby training helps you remember to actively seek out the challenge when something has become too easy for you.

Shiva Nata is also super useful in small doses.

You don’t need to spend an hour doing Shiva Nata to get major epiphanies. I usually do it in 5 minute increments, and have really started to appreciate that a consistent strong effort over a short period of time can yield amazing results over the long term.

Learning new strategies and then replacing them with different ones.

Shiva Nata gives your mind a major workout just learning the basics of Level 1, and then suddenly you’re on Level 2 and everything you thought you knew is now totally different.

In roller derby you may go into a jam with a solid strategy, but suddenly your jammer gets a major penalty and now you need to control a power jam: you have to adapt instantly.

Practicing different aspects or levels of Shiva Nata one after another is super useful in developing your ability to adapt instantly.

Shiva Nata improves your ability to recognize patterns and then look for the gaps.

As a jammer it trains your eye to see the paths through the pack, not the people in the pack.

As a blocker it trains you to identify the other team’s strategy quickly — and counter it.

This is one of those things that is pretty hard to explain without experiencing it.

There are always multiple patterns at play, and they are constantly changing. Developing this kind of vision is one of the greatest gifts of Shiva Nata.

Just do it. And keep doing it. And keep making it harder. You’ll feel and see what happens. And it will be brilliant.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Shivanautical updates!
• Ten basic Shiva Nata principles.
• The Levy Flight. Patterns. Again.

Shiva Nata Teaching – An Insight of Flight

I began “Dancing Shiva” as I call it because I don’t like freestyle movement, nor having to do something a certain way. I loved the idea that I could focus on numbers, spatial cues, colours, words, as well as how I felt.

I felt safe in the knowledge that there was a structure that still allowed freedom. I could learn the positions, and then apply them in endless streams of patterns. I could use them in flow, or staccato like a robot.

These days, I mix the moves in with yoga and belly-dance moves, often to the sound of pop and rock music.

The Revelation

It’s a Tuesday afternoon. I head online to check the forums. Someone’s added me as a friend and I look at the message.

“I would LOVE to learn first level Shiva Nata.. and I can travel to Brighton if necessary.”

Sit back. Inhale. Confusion.  I haven’t mentioned on my profile that I even practise Shiva Nata, let alone that I could teach it. Yet…I’ve been practising over a year, I’m about half way through level 2.

Well, yes, of course I could teach level 1.  I guess?

* bing *

I’ve taught meditation. I have taught one session of Shiva Nata (the week only one person showed up for meditation). I learnt the science behind it during my degree. I feel confident explaining it to others.  I already have a blog post I can direct people too. I trust the practise.

I. Could. Do. This.

Teaching

Look at any biography I’ve ever written and you’ll find a hidden dream, slipped between the lines:

I want to teach.

Not historical battles in a classroom with loud kids who don’t want to be there… but adults. And not just night school classes; but something they can’t get elsewhere. I want to be unique and to provide something that will enhance every moment of their life; help them reach that potential.

I sent back a friendly “sure, it’d be amazing to meet another Shivanaut” response and forgot about it.

A few hours later I’m listening to the Dust off the DVD teleclass and I begin doodling the horizontal positions – just stick arms without a head or body; moving in robotic shifts.

Half-way through, I look down and see that I’ve written out the numbers 11 22 33 44 and suddenly started a column of “what’s hard, what’s easy, what I love about it” and suddenly…

* bing *

I want to give people wings, and exercises to strengthen those muscles.

I see a butterfly, taking off from a leaf.  This image was the inspiration for my blog, the point of light in my discovery of reaching potential… and I see the wing movements… It’s shiva nata.

The wing moves up and out.. H1 H1  then goes down.. to V4 V4 then in to H2 H2 as the wings touch their belly before they flow forwards; to V3 V3 then out to H1 H1 again…

Watch a butterfly in slow motion (or like me, imagine you can see a butterfly taking off in slow motion).   

Flying is Dance of Shiva.

I want to teach people to fly.

I could teach Shiva Nata.

As I scribbled down things I’d make sure I told the beginners, I run out of room on my page, and switch to making a worksheet on my laptop. An hour later, I’ve a lesson plan with timings for each section, diagrams of the four horizontal positions and a list of materials I’d need to teach this in my own style.

The doubts settle in. Yet, I am resolved.

I’ve had this thought before — last year when my twitter friend began teaching her book-group; I thought about how I co-run two University societies and that if I had two people willing to learn, I’d be willing to teach. But fear stopped me.

This time, I send the woman who originally requested a lesson a message explaining that I have materials and am happy to meet up. The doubts were still creeping up on me though.

You can’t even do level 1 with legs or all of level 2 yet!

You don’t know enough!

You’ve not got an official qualification.

There’s no worksheet on how to teach this you can call upon when it all goes wrong.

I flitter over to Havi’s teacher training page and I re-read one sentence until I hear the voices quieten.

Even if all you know so far is a chunk of Level 1? That’s enough to start.

While they’re learning arms, you learn the legs. While they learn legs, you can learn Level 2.

As long as you’re one or two steps ahead of your students – and committed to practicing while you teach — you’ll be fine.”

And just to prove to myself and those monsters that I could do this; I stand up and go through the arms of Horizontal level 1. Then vertical. Then I throw in some level two transquarters and the bit of level 2 I can do. Then I tentatively move my legs.

That’s more than enough to teach horizontal arms to a beginner. Besides, I need to be able to do it wrong and show them that that’s okay.

And if they catch up with me, then we’ll teach each other.

As the voices cease, I nod emphatically.

The Decision

I could call it “Insight to Butterfly Flight” and call upon my societies, the pagan pub moot I attend and the four-five Shivanauts I know in England. I could print out worksheets, set myself-and-them the same homework to keep it mixed up and we could conquer this together.

Maybe I really do this; maybe teaching is something I can do.
Just maybe I can offer people those wings.

(If you’re anywhere near London or Brighton in the future and want to learn with another practitioner, please say hi.)

And if I can teach it; maybe you could too.

Rose is @celestialrose on Twitter.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• The Levy Flight. Patterns. Again.
• A Dance of Shiva mini-epiphany.
• Shivanautical realizations + epiphanies: take 1

Endless variations and possibilities is one of my most beloved shivanautical themes. Thank you! .

A little while ago I was on a brainstorming kick, and challenged myself to come up with 101 Shiva Nata variations.

I thought you might enjoy them — so here they are!

101 ways to do Shiva Nata

1. Saying numbers aloud
2. Saying the direction of movement aloud
3. As fast as you can
4. So slowly your arms hurt
5. While music is playing (so many possibilities with music)
6. In silence
7. While keeping your mind as silent as possible
8. While having a conversation with someone
9. Balancing on one foot
10. When using your leg, not letting your moving foot touch the floor
11. Jumping with each arm movement
12. Moving arms smootly through the positions
13. Staccato – stick in each position and move between them as fast as possible.
14. One arm legato and the other staccato
15. While lying on the floor
16. While lying on the floor with your abs engaged in a crunch
17. While hanging upside down (use a chair, monkey bars, inversion table, strong friend)
18. Assign the positions words, and say the words (Havi has some great ones)
19. Assign the positions notes, and sing the notes (Shiva Nata solfege)
20. Now play those notes on an instrument
21. Let your torso move – dance with it
22. Singing your favorite song and flailing to the beat
23. Focusing on beautiful form
24. With rice crispy treats on your hands
25. Hopping on one foot
26. Writing the numbers on paper
27. With eyes closed
28. Not moving, but imagining yourself moving
29. From the instructor’s perspective (right hand becomes your first hand)
30. When you’re stuck on a problem
31. When you’ve been doing some deep work and want to let it sink in – or move to another level
32. Pretending you’re someone else
33. For 30 seconds while waiting for something else
34. Under a forest canopy
35. In public
36. Saying the numbers (or words or colors or notes) and NOT moving
37. Assigning each position a color and saying the color
38. Mixing up the order of starting positions using Shiva Nata cards or Willie’s charts
39. Play with Shiva Nata cards
40. Put dots on a piece of paper, assign them positions, and point to them instead of doing the positions.
41. Move your arms, but not your legs, and imagine that you’re moving your legs. Now move your legs and imagine the arm movements
42. With waltz rhythm
43. With tango rhythm (slow, slow, quick, quick, slow)
44. With dotted rhythms (slow, quick, slow, quick)
45. With the DVD
46. With a partner standing facing you. You can mirror each other (yes, one of you takes the instructor role to break your brain), or not (aah! Not doing what I’m seeing!)
47. In front of a mirror
48. With the numbers on a piece of paper in front of you
49. Think about the transitions instead of the movements
50. In a group, all facing the same direction
51. In a group in a circle facing inward
52. In a group, taking turns
53. In a group, each starting at a different starting position
54. In a group, taking turns calling out a position and everybody goes to that position
55. While walking
56. Watching someone else and not moving yourself
57. Doing just one position, or just one spiral, or just one sequence
58. Doing only two staring positions’ worth
59. Taking up as much space as you can
60. Taking up as little space as you can
61. Breathing with a particular rhythm
62. Generate a random string of numbers, and use that as your sequence
63. While contemplating a mandala, flame, flower, or other meditation focus
64. While praying
65. Naming the positions in a foreign language
66. Assign the positions to verb forms, and conjugating verbs in a foreign language
67. Imagining that you can draw in the air as you’re moving, and seeing the patterns you make
68. Adding a stomp to your leg movements any time you come back to center
69. Teaching it to someone else
70. Teaching it to several people at a time
71. Alternating with a form of expression (writing, painting, etc.)
72. Considering maybe flailing at some point in the future
73. Consciously deciding not to do Shiva Nata today
74. Visualizing movement along the cube Andre draws in the theory section of the DVD
75. Wearing unusual footwear (whatever is unusual for you), or none at all
76. Underwater
77. Expressing an emotion of your choice with your arm movements
78. On the roof of a building
79. In a cave
80. Deciding on how much you’re going to do ahead of time and sticking with it even after you get bored or feel your brain is fried
81. When you don’t want to
82. When you’ve just gotten some exciting news
83. When you’re frustrated with how something is not working out
84. While riding a wave on a surfboard (please share a video if you do this!)
85. In a place you feel uncomfortable
86. In a place you feel safe and loved
87. Instead of the usual leg sequence, number the leg positions and do one arm and one leg
88. Slowly, carefully, one position at a time, with full focus and intention on moving your arms (and leg) to the correct position with the smoothest possible movement
89. Locate spots on the floor and assign them numbers. Using your legs, step on the numbers in sequence, like you’re playing Dance Dance Revolution
90. Posting a position on Twitter or Facebook every half hour
91. While watching children play
92. While concentrating on a particular chakra
93. Imagining energy flowing from one chakra to another along the paths suggested by the numbers, using the air around you for 8
94. With small weights (or cans of soup) in your hands
95. Imagining the air around you is thick
96. Standing on a balance board
97. A train! A train! Could you, would you, on a train?
98. Clock face Shiva Nata. Point up (12), right (3), down (6), and left (9) instead of positions 1-4. Now, if you left hand is the hour hand, and right hand is the minute hand, instead of saying the numbers you’re pointing to, say the time indicated by your arm position.
99. Sitting on a chair, use two arms and two legs
100. Watching the DVD and imagining you’re moving along with it
101. Reading about other people’s practices, or talking about your practice (okay, I’ll stop now)

Here’s the thing.

There are a bazillion different ways to do Shiva Nata, more than anybody could ever think of or list. I’m sure Havi could rattle off a whole bunch more (please, please don’t flail while operating heavy machinery).

The trick is not in how you ultimately flail (though some ways sure are a ton of fun – I can’t wait to do Shiva Nata in a group again). It’s in the willingness to be open to possibilities.

To experiment and see what a different approach has to offer. To bring awareness to the practice. And I’m sure Havi would add – the willingness to make it hard.

None of which, of course, applies just to Shiva Nata.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Dance by numbers
• Shiva Nata and fibromyalgia
• Three surprises and three kinds of epiphanies.

Yay, Jenia! And thank you!
– Havi

My intention for today’s Shiva Nata practice was clarity.

As I wrote down “clarity” in my journal, I immediately decided that it was not clear enough and added “relationship with clarity”.

The original work plan was to mess with level 3, and then I decided that it would be nice to warm up with some level 2 squares, with alternating breath patterns, going very fast.

As it turned out, the “warm-up” was plenty (something that I forget and remember over and over again). After getting as far as H4 V2 starting position, my arms very loudly asked for a break, and every other part of the body was all “yes, yes, break please, let’s lie down”.

So I did. The tingle – it was everywhere. So sore! And after a couple of moments, my mind was all “Right, clarity. Do we have clarity already?”

Immediately, there was a vision: something very white, very light, transparent yet glowing. Weightless, uplifting. Shifting. Shifting away.

And there was another vision: arms trying to catch it. Chasing it. Running after it. Spray painting it.

Spray painting?

Yes! Apparently a version of me is hunting the clarity with a paintball gun. What’s that on the horizon, is that clarity? Bam! A thick cover of paint. Now the clarity has been identified, its shape can be seen and it can be captured and securely stored.

Except that it’s not clarity anymore. It’s a mere shell of it, and it’s not clear.

The real clarity, free, puzzled and bemused, is watching from the distance. The hunter, frustrated that the getting close to the spray-painted captured creature is not giving her the qualities that she wants, lifts her gaze.

Damn! The real clarity is over there! This is the fake one! OK, let’s run after the real clarity again!

I am tapping the hunter on the shoulder. Hey! I say. This game is not really giving you what you want, is it? And it’s pretty damn infuriating, isn’t it?

The hunter frowns. I don’t think she heard my words, but she has now decided to take a break. She puts down the gun and sits down leaning against the tree trunk.

It’s nice here, in the shadow. This chase has surely been tiring. And she thinks, you know what, what I’d really want now is some rest.

She stretches out on the grass, in the protecting shadow of the tree. Yawns. Closes her eyes. In a few seconds, I can hear her relaxed breath.

And I can see something light, glowing and warm stroking her hair.

Good to see you, clarity.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Ask a Shivanaut: setting intentions
• Ask A Shivanaut: mixing practices
• Shiva Nata and fibromyalgia

When I was a kid, I had a gift.

I invented new sports within sports.

There was the Great, Grandiose Belly Flops at diving — the ones that made whole auditoriums gasp. There was the high, vaulted leap into the air. There was the graceful manoeuvre mid-leap into horizontal position. There was the moment where I seemed to hang in the air… before thudding into the water belly first.

I was poetic, I tell you.

And legendary.

Then there was the times I wondered about the hot, steaming attraction that soccer balls had for my head.

And why everybody else managed to be so graceful in netball, while I clambered around, running in to people, skidding to a halt on my knees, and being sent off field for being too “rough.”

These are the hallmarks of a goddess who is utterly and exquisitely uncoordinated.

Thus, why it’s taken me about a year to get the Dance of Shiva kit. For some reason, I didn’t want to have flashbacks of sucking so monumentally at all things intentional movement.

And then I read somewhere on this them there blog that if you’re uncoordinated, it’s actually a good thing. Because the whole purpose of the Dance is to suck at it. If you’re doing it, and you’re doing it well, and it’s easy for you – then it’s not the point.

When I read that, it was a little lightbeam. A permission of “hey ho! I can most certainly suck SUCCESSFULLY at that!”

So I did.

This is my diary of my very first Dance of Shiva session, moment by moment.

Package comes with that beautiful lil illustration of a many-armed dancing yoga goddess. Tear open the package, open the DVD player, and throw myself into it. Much like my vaulted leaps into the pool.

Around the one minute mark, I am overwhelmed with trying to get it done right.

Around the two minute mark, I falter through the basic arm movements, repeating them over and over to myself, like a mantra of epiphany-generation.

Around the three minute mark, I wonder if this is it. Over and over. 1, 2, 3, 4. Methodical. Moving.

Around the four minute mark, my arms start getting sore… but at the very top of my head, I feel a prickling of warmth, like more blood is flowing through my brain.

At the five minute mark, things get very still and my brain becomes quite. All of a sudden, those contrived moments begin to flow. Instead of staccato, they are lyrical, and I see the gently rhythm and spiral and crescendo I could not see before. There is stillness, and there is motion, and it is a moment of liquid beauty.

What to know what Dance of Shiva teaches me?

It needs to suck in order to make its magic in you.

All you need to do is turn up – as yourself – gloriously semi-functioning, utterly vulnerable, and delightfully uncoordinated. The Queen of the Belly Flop and the Reckless Netballery and the Magnetic Soccer Ball Head – she too, can be a goddess of the dance.

Because the parts where you are struggling? It’s where new brain synapses are getting made.

The points where you are flailing wildly and ballsing it up and tripping over yourself? They are the physical spots of transformation in your mind.

There is medicine and magic and goodness and would you believe it — a certain kind of grace — as you flail and try and fail and try again.

I’m sure there is a big ole lesson in here somewhere.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• The Flailing.
• Finding the challenge (part 1)
• Ask a Shivanaut: Dance of Shiva before or after a yoga practice?

I’m a Math geek.

I’ve published a popular Math blog for three years now. I’ve loved Math as long as I can remember.

To me Math (I honor the Muse of Math with a capital “M”) is about patterns, connections, exploration, insights (aka epiphanies), beauty, problem solving, creativity, logic, structure, and much more.

If only everybody got that the focus of Math needn’t be about memorizing formulas and grinding through boring and meaningless homework problems.

I also have a restless body and mind.

My mind likes to be active and my body likes to move. I like freestyle dancing, contact improv and other ways to be playful and in my body.

But, I’ve always shied away from dances with steps. If I were confident with my coordination I’d do more ballroom dancing. And contra dance too.

Enter Shiva Nata.

I’ve never considered myself to be “epiphany-deprived” so the idea of being hit over the head with insights on demand wasn’t the motivator to buy the Shiva Nata starter kit although I suppose I shouldn’t knock insights on demand until I’ve had some.

I bought the kit because of an intuitive hit that Shiva Nata could be a nice way to connect everything I love about Math with everything I love about being playful in my body.

I’ve not yet received the DVD but I did dive into the practice based on the downloadable stuff that comes with the kit.

I’m progressing slowly (coordination in my body isn’t well developed). I’ve intentionally focused just on the four horizontal arm positions.

I’m delighted that in less than a week and practicing just a few minutes a day I can do different patterns with different arms (e.g. 12, 23, 34, 41 and 13, 24, 31, 42).

And, I can do the patterns fairly quickly. For a dancer or choreographer this might be trivial but for me it’s an exciting step forward, especially in my confidence.

I’ve noticed that my experience in doing the very simple patterns slowly is very different from doing them quickly. And, doing the patterns in a flow is very different from doing them in a staccato “jump” although these different ways of moving all feel like they have their place.

I’ve not yet tried to overwhelm myself although I do have a blast when I screw up a pattern, enjoy the “play” aspect of this whole thing.

Once I start practicing with the DVD and having to follow along at Andrey’s speed I’m sure I’ll have lots of experience of flailing. I’ll be sure to report back on what that’s like.

I’m quite captivated by this thing that is Shiva Nata.

My brain loves the patterns and is intrigued by the promise of vastness and complexity.

My “dance legs” are excited about the prospect of walking into a dance class and actually being able to follow steps.

My body loves the feeling of the art when I’m doing the patterns slowly and smoothly.

My mind loves the structure of the practice—I can just dance by the numbers.

My mathematical sense will enjoy playing with the numbers and their patterns and my computer programming background will help if I decide to write programs to guide Shiva Nata dancers.

And, I bet I’ll thoroughly enjoy meditating after my thought-making ability is completely fried.

I have an urge to teach Shiva Nata once I get to a certain level of proficiency, whatever that is.

I bet a lot of people can benefit from focus (Shiva Nata takes tremendous focus when the patterns aren’t ingrained), the coordination, the ability to turn off their minds and maybe even from those “hot buttered epiphanies.”

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Kachow Boom!
• 90 minutes of happy flailing and shivanautical destuckifying!
• Teaching Shiva Nata – insight and flight

She’s now one of my favorite people, so I’m glad you get a chance to meet her too. And she’s @Ealasaid on Twitter if you want to connect with her there.

Shiva Nata seems like exactly the kind of thing I shouldn’t be doing.

Standing and waving my arms about, most of the time with them over my head or straight out in front of me? Standing on one foot and doing all that? At first I thought I was crazy.

But I tried it. I ran through the Level 1 arm positions and puttered around — and then I had my first epiphany. So, even though I knew it was a bad idea, I got the DVD and started practicing seriously.

The reason Shiva Nata is a bad idea for me is that I have fibromyalgia.

But, it’s turned out, the reason Shiva Nata is also a good idea for me is that I have fibromyalgia.

What is Fibromyalgia?

Fibromyalgia is a syndrome best described as feeling like you have a mild case of the flu — every day. All day. It makes me sore and tired, and often makes it hard for me to stay asleep.

Some days are worse than others. The constant pain and stress cause secondary health problems, because they put the body in a constant state of stress.

When you have fibro, every day is an exercise in creativity.

If my fibro is flaring up and I’m in a lot of pain, I know my energy levels will be depleted much more easily.

I have to tweak my schedule to see if I can fit in an appointment with my acupuncturist, figure out what to put off so that I can spend my evening curled up with a book instead of out getting things done.

This kind of planning and reasoning is made a lot harder by brain fog, one of the most common symptoms of fibro. Being constantly sore and tired takes its toll on cognition, making it difficult to think clearly or remember things, let alone spot patterns.

It’s a lot like the fogginess most folks get when they’re sick, only it never really goes away.

Hot Buttered Awesome

Since starting my work with Shiva Nata, though, I’m noticing a real difference.

For one thing, I’m able to notice that there’s a difference.

I’m spotting my habits and starting to change them. I’ve taken on a new, highly detail-oriented job at work, and am handling it like I would have years ago, before I got sick. I’m finding it easier to look at my day ahead and see what kinds of adaptations I might need to make.

And all of this comes from the most important set of adaptations: the ones that let me do Shiva Nata every single day.

There are only a few: I don’t try to do entire long sequences, I do my best to learn the forms quickly so that I can turn off the DVD and go at a quicker pace (slow movements are far more painful than quicker ones), and I adjust my practice based on where my pain levels are.

On really bad days, I can only do a few minutes, and that’s okay. On good days, I go as long as I can.

For a recovering perfectionist like me, that kind of flexibility is practically a miracle.

Not to mention the epiphanies!

They sneak up on me at random moments, these sudden flashes of clarity where I can see the big picture, or some tiny key to a puzzle I was working on will simply drop into my head. I’m moving in leaps and bounds in all the right directions, and I can’t get over the amazement.

My fibromyalgia makes practicing difficult, but my practicing is starting to make having fibromyalgia easier to handle.

Havi often says that five good minutes a day is enough, and I’m proof she’s right.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Dance of Shiva, yoga, chronic fatigue and a question
• What will I do when I finish Shiva Nata?
• Another question about arms.

The Starter Kit

I wavered for a long time before committing to buy The Shiva Nata starter kit.

The kicker was talking to my friend Lisa Pijuan-Nomura when I was in Toronto recently.

She’d taken classes with Havi and said that, yes, it really was all that. So I ordered it, and it arrived at my house just after I got back.

I did the introductory horizontal and vertical hand-movements session first, and over the past two days have been noticing all the patterns in my life — things that are such a given they’re usually just “reality”.

I go through these patterns as a car on a kiddie fun-ride follows its track.

But instead of just being in the car, identified with the driver role, I’m also outside, seeing the track. (“Oh, track. Do I want that?”)

Then I did the first practise session today, which felt alternately natural then mind-boggling. Afterward I sat down to write a little about the question I’d gone into it with. My mind was a perfect blank, then suddenly…

Well, what I really wanted to buy from the online shop at TheFluentSelf.com was Havi’s brain in a jar.

You know, just so I could talk to it and get back the kind of compassionate and brilliant insights that show up in her blog.

Instead, I got this kit, which turns out to serve the same function (except with my brain, which is probably more appropriate and a less icky proposition).

In this thinking session after the Shiva Nata practise (which was surprisingly physically hard, too; I can see this actually being good for my fitness level, too), I found myself having the same kind of caring yet no-bullshit, this-is-what-this-issue-is-really-about insights.

All of this is to say thank you.

This experience alone justifies the whole purchase, has given me a dose of happy clarity like a fresh load of laundry off the line, and it makes me excited about what’s to come.

Thank you,

- Hamish

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Post-it note epiphany…
• 90 minutes of happy flailing and shivanautical destuckifying!
• The one about corollaries.

Super interesting piece. Yay, Char! And thank you!
– Havi

A new ritual

I remembered this morning that I wanted to create an opening ritual for Dance of Shiva.

Just asked my body what that would be — turned on a couple lights — and then I inhaled lifting my arms and exhaled as I let them fall to my side. I did three on each side complete with a leg lift, planted my feet and turned on the DVD.

Amazing how something that takes less than two minutes helps ground me so much. First epiphany — before the dance even starts!

I practiced the basic postures for 10 minutes. Since I’m somewhat familiar with the basic movements, it was easier this time.

And as I was doing these basic moves I noticed all the chatter in my brain — anticipating the next movement, looking in the mirror and checking to be sure that I was doing it right, starting to whisper tentatively the names of the movements and by the end I was using my full voice and moving through the postures much more confidently.

Rituals work.

As I was practicing the phone rang twice. The first time I noticed it and let it pass figuring it was my son. Okay. The second time, I was sure it was him. Usual impatience on his part if he can’t get me the first time, he’ll call back again a couple minutes later. Just noticed and kept practicing.

It passed right over me — no reaction.

Started changing the sheets when I was done and then remembered that I wanted to create a closing ritual. I stopped instantly, sat in my chair with my eyes opened, folded my legs underneath me — just sitting.

Not meditating. Not rushing. I noticed how I felt focused inward as my eyes were open at the same time. Unusual for me. Inward focus almost always is with my eyes closed. Hmmm.

Changes.

As I came downstairs with the laundry, the usual barrage of hungry animals greeted me. Normally, I silently curse them as I rush around feeding them first. If I don’t take care of them instantly, I feel the heat.

Not today. I didn’t feel the heat and I didn’t feed them immediately. Instead, I gave everyone clean water, resisted all the usual distractions of doing the laundry, the cat litter, etc — and unloaded the dishwasher to make my own breakfast first.

Made my protein shake — and then fed them. That’s huge progress.

I fed them without “an attitude” and for the first time ever no one threw up afterwards. Could it be the attitude that I fed them with that helped them eat more peacefully? I’m probably not that powerful but I still notice that that hasn’t happened EVER in 8 years.

And I still haven’t called my son back. Not because I’m angry, not because I’m telling myself some story about what he “needs” from me, but because I’m still reflecting.

He can wait — without the story — just as everything else can wait.

This perception that others, people or animals, need me to do something “right now” is a memory to me now. The chatter of “hurry up and do it so that they’ll shut up” — that’s not mine anymore.

Wonder what other habitual chatter in my brain can “leave the building” — knowing that as I shift so do those I live with, whether they like it or not. It just doesn’t really matter somehow — it’s just fun being me.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• It only took a year