I was lying in final twist, pulling my hip away from my ribs like a good little yogi, when the teacher, who didn’t know my practice that well, came over and gave me an adjustment.

My back cracked. His eyes lit up; I could tell he was very pleased with himself. My back cracked ten more times. His eyes shifted to panic. Being a people pleaser, I tried to quietly reassure him. But I was, in fact, on the verge of panicking about it myself.

I’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to remember when my right hip joint had started cracking so prolifically. But I could only conjure memories of lying on my mat, twisting deeper and deeper, feeling like it needed to crack but couldn’t.

That night, standing in the shower, I swayed—shifting my ribs ever so slightly in the particular way that causes my back to crack over and over again. I counted up to 100 cracks. (I know. Counting is another bad habit that we control enthusiasts fall into when chaos is looming.) But I couldn’t stop. I was trying, as I had been every night for some time, to crack it until it was all cracked out. One more crack. Just one more.

"My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" is my column about living my - your - our yoga off the mat, and deepening our practices on the mat. It's published in LA Yoga Magazine and syndicated to Yoga Chicago Magazine and yogamates.com. The collected columns are also available online right here on the website.

But I know a lot of you don't have access to the magazines and/or don't like to read a lot of text online, but do dig listening to podcasts - plus I love recording audio - so now I'm making "My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" available in the groovalicious podcast format as well.

That means now you can enjoy "My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" in your car! Or on your mat:) Now enjoy Episode #4: "Water Whirled". And here are links to some of the things I refer to:

The Hydro-Mag Water Magnetizer
The Water Egg
Dr. Emoto

Listen and subscribe in iTunes (and don't forget to rate and review it - thanks!)

Podcast: 

moci.WaterWhirled.12.06.m4a

"My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" is my column about living my - your - our yoga off the mat, and deepening our practices on the mat. It's published in LA Yoga Magazine, Yoga Chicago Magazine and yogamates.com. The collected columns are also available online right here on the website.

But I know a lot of you don't have access to the magazines and/or don't like to read a lot of text online, but do dig listening to podcasts - plus I love recording audio - so now I'm making "My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" available in the groovalicious podcast format as well.

That means now you can enjoy "My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" in your car! Or on your mat:) Now enjoy Episode #3: "Arm and Arm"

Listen and subscribe in iTunes (and don't forget to rate and review it - thanks!)

Podcast: 

MOCI.ArmAndArm.9.25.m4a

They say follow your bliss but I say follow your pain. Because I’m starting to notice that when I follow my pain, then my bliss follows me.

This happened recently with my arm pain. The pain had become so bad that at the end of class, sitting in final cross-legged position, instead of joining my om with those of my neighboring mat-mates, I was busy scanning my arms and shoulders, trying to pinpoint exactly where it hurt most. Or should I say where it didn’t hurt.

By the time we namasted, my inner whining was so loud I could barely hear the post-class chat I love so well. I left my mat where it was and cornered my teacher, my tense voice the very definition of the squeaky wheel.

I’m so excited! I’ve made a huge breakthrough in my practice. After only twelve years of determined effort I have moved on from the first sutra to the second! At this rate I will get through all 195 of Pantanjali’s Sutras by the time I’m 2340 years old. Thankfully I have my Hatha practice to keep me young.

The first sutra, atha yoganusanam, sounded so simple: “Now is the time we do Yoga.” Then I started thinking about ‘now’ ‘time’ ‘we’ ‘do’ and ‘Yoga.’ Yikes. And what about “the?”

A dozen years of down dogs later, it’s no small victory to show up on my mat with the feeling I’ve woven that first sutra into my life. Even if I ultimately had to win it by turning part of the sutra into my Myspace password.

Now I find myself thinking about the second sutra in the same way I think about lunch after I’ve fully digested breakfast.

I have a million ways to avoid a pose: thinking about something else while I’m in it, slipping out of class to pee, judging everyone else’s poses.

My favorite way to avoid a pose has always been to slink off my mat for a sip of water. But lately I’m having a hard time using water this way. I don’t feel like I’m a water user any more. Now I feel like I’m a water lover. And, of course, love is complicated.

It used to be so simple. I’d suck on my straw peacefully avoiding the dreaded eagle pose. But now it seems like the water activates my monkey mind the way water was supposed to activate those super cute little sea monkeys you could order from the back of comic books.

I tell my self I shouldn’t be drinking water in class. Water quenches the fire I’m working so hard to stoke. Drinking water mid-practice disturbs the pranic energy body. And my drink is another student’s distraction.

But then myself tells me that I’m thirsty!

"My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" is my column about living my - your - our yoga off the mat, and deepening our practices on the mat. It's published in LA Yoga Magazine and Yoga Chicago Magazine and the collected columns are available online right here on the website.

But I know a lot of you don't have access to the magazines and/or don't like to read a lot of text online, but do dig listening to podcasts - plus I love recording audio - so now I'm making "My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" available in the groovalicious podcast format as well.

That means now you can enjoy "My Other Car is a Yoga Mat" in your car! Or on your mat:) Enjoy Episode #1: The Mistress Cleanse...

Listen now

or listen and subscribe in iTunes

Podcast: 

mistress.m4a

One day I walked into class and noticed that since I had seen my teacher last, like two days ago, he’d changed. Good-bye robust athletic yogi, hello rock star. Not the junkie kind either. The thin, trim, spry, stage roaming, glowing kind.

After class, when I asked him what his secret was, he revealed he was on day four of the Master Cleanse. To open his hips. Really? Yes, supposedly the strict regimen of lemon, cayenne and water was, along with its other healing properties, supposed to help open up stubborn hips.

I’m going to do it too, I said. I wasn’t thinking of the hip opening, my hips were already more open than even my big mouth. They were so open that colds, flus and hormones settled eagerly into them, like fans before a show. I definitely didn’t need to open my hips. But I definitely did need to look like a rock star!

I’d always been put off by the Master Cleanse.

Yoga had me at the first hellom.

I love the asana practice but it’s the chanting and oming and mantras that sooth the savage Beth. Maybe it’s because I’m a professional talker that I find it especially hard to turn off the chatter. For me, freedom’s just another word for nothing left to say.

I’ve always been kind of embarrassed about how much I need my yoga teachers to tell me what a great job I’m doing. It’s not a job after all, it’s yoga. It’s not that I don’t love to be challenged, corrected, adjusted, egged on, pushed, or really noticed in any form, that is to say coached. But I need the cheerleading too.

I love to hear those special words. Good. Great. Super duper! And it’s even better when they say your name. Really good Beth.

That is why I love having a regular studio. Everybody knows your name. Just like on Cheers, the TV show. Your name is your own personal cheer. Yay your name here!