Monthly Archives: January 2013

Yoga Diary (2) Breathing practice

Breathing Practice.

Can be used as quick re-charging in ten minutes or less.

Nauli …stomach rolling  3X

Breath of fire….2X

4.4.4 breath… 3X  ( in4 , hold 4, out 4) with stretches. Outdoors when possible

Qigong 5 gates breath  (Feet, Hands, Abdomen, Top of lungs, Skull) 3X

Outdoors when possible.

Windmill breath forward and backward  …I each way

Nerve charging breath ( lungs and chest) with HA…AA  expulsion 2X  (out doors)

Kidney massage. ( fists, flat of hands, rub hands and stimulate chi)

End with Thymus Thump.

Yoga Diary (1): Energy Flow

Breath of Fire x 6

Yang  Dragon x 2

Butterfly dancing x2  … breathe out  A.a.a.h

Moon over water x6  … stay in a QSOM 1 minute

Balloon dance x  2

Punch with tiger eyes x 6 …say   HYYYYT

Chi massage legs, arms and abdomen

Windmill rotation.

Feel Chi  for 2 minutes.  Washing down bone marrow  X2

Squishy ball massage  in bridge.

Facial massage points in bridge.

Relax for 10 minutes with descending water meditation.

Drink water and or  Beet juice.

Surfacing from dreams

(about that strange hypnogogic state twixt dream and slow awakening)

Surfacing, lungs heaving up dark water,
half drowned by black spectral visions,
flailing in cold seas of  twilight sphere
between worlds within worlds.

Shrinking, from a grim Reaper’s grasp,
fleeing chaos and  old Hades’ realm
from deathly shades where Kali shakes
her thousand rotting human heads.

At covert breaking of the day
The mask is slowly ripped away.
Trapped now in sinew and in bone,
In that hinterland and zone
where gentle Hypnos draws a veil
of  mist and soft forgetfulness.

Fast filtering fears, too slippery to hold,
Fade swiftly  as calm logic reasserts.
What may, from fevered brain and mind
emerge, is nothing to be feared.

Margaret Gill

Noticing

Notice the light falling on dew-wet grass
and see pale peeking primrose gleam.
Feel the embrace of hewn rough bark,
delight in soaring clouds, in swirling dart.

Yet notice that you did not notice
the slowing compass needle of his soul,
the gathering dark beneath his eyes,
or how you missed the pain within his heart.

Notice how you were unaware
how much to care, until it was too late;
How, often, it is too late to see
the spindrift fate on which we reel apart.

Notice that when you do not notice,
you rob things of their identity.
For what remains unseen, ceases
to exist for you, loses all its art.

Margaret Gill