http://www.lionhorseproductions.com/?p=2076

Andrea and I met many years ago when she joined the staff of Video/Action, a not-for-profit production company in Washington D.C. dedicated to telling the stories of those whose voices are rarely heard (the founder, Robin Smith, is woman in the series).  I was the Senior Producer at the time and we had a small staff, limited resources, and numerous deadlines. And we felt an enormous responsibility to the very courageous people we were working with who shared their often painful stories, on camera, in order to help others.  So, bringing a new person on staff was always challenging and a little nerve-wracking.  You can teach someone how to book a crew or put together a production schedule.  You can help them write interview questions.  You can suggest how they might find a story arc.  But , in my view, you cannot teach someone how to make a woman feel supported as she describes years of abuse or how to make a father who has lost his daughter feel comfortable speaking about the night she was murdered.  That ability is something that comes from within, a genuine desire to listen and to create a safe space for people to share their stories.  And, while I am always flattered when I hear Andrea refer to me as her mentor, I believe this is a gift that she always had and that, perhaps, I simply helped her access.  And she brings that same gift to this amazing photographic series, putting her subjects at ease and inviting them to share. The results are really lovely – by turns funny, and whimsical, and magical, and wise and inspiring.  We had a blast during our photo shoot which basically just involved me babbling (semi-coherently) about why I practice yoga and then doing a short practice for Andrea to photograph.  So, go check it out and feel the power of 216 women and counting…

I slept poorly the night before the tournament and woke up feeling frustrated and disappointed that I was not at my best.  I made a bagel and packed it in foil to take on the long car ride.  I debated about whether to drink coffee and, if so, how much?  I opted for just a few sips so that I could avoid a caffeine headache but not be over-stimulated.  The tournament was held at Oxen Hill Senior High School and heading into the school’s large fieldhouse and seeing the polished wood floor took me right back to traveling to play basketball in junior high and high school, and that feeling when I entered the opposing team’s gym and didn’t know quite what to expect.  How big would our opponents be?  How strong?  How well-prepared?  Would they be  welcoming or intimidating?   My stomach churned.  Although I am 35, I felt 13.

I had been told that the wait would be long and it was true.  Children compete first and there are multiple age groups and multiple types of forms, plus sparring.  So, we sat and watched.  First, we watched the tournament organizers struggle to set up rings and assemble the correct number of judges.  Then we watched children of multiple age and skill levels compete.  One thing that astonished me was the variety of uniforms.  Our school wears the traditional white and, as a fairly petite woman, I must admit that I don’t feel super suave in the baggy white pants and lose fitting gi top that I’m always struggling to keep in place during class.  But at the tournament, all around me where children and adults in a dazzling array of blues, and reds, and blacks, and yellows.  And they had unique styles.  Some had dreadlocks and others spiky mohawks.  One woman in flowing black robes performed with her long black hair down, flying with her as she moved.  A teenage girl in what looked like blue silk pajamas leapt in the air and landed in a splits.  A group of African American teenagers stood tall and looked proud and in crisp, red uniforms.  A young indian boy seemed to slice the air with his precision movements.

Our studio holds weekly classes in an elementary school gym with a floor that coats our feet with dirt, and the occasional large cockroach scurrying by.  We lug our mats, and targets, and weights out every class and then put them away, stacked neatly to avoid the punishment for not doing so – extra push-ups.  In the summer, sweat drips down my face and the inside of my uniform.  I do not feel glamourous.  I do not feel like the beautiful flying assassins in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.  I feel very  earthbound.  In spite of the yoga practice that gives me better than average flexibility, I am in my 30’s and things do not move as easily as they do for the teenager next to me.  I’m athletic and strong but martial arts seem to amplify every weakness.  My front kicks would be harder and faster if my abs and quads were stronger.  My roundhouses would be higher if my inner thigh muscles were more flexible.  I feel like for everything I do right there are a million things I do wrong.  My front punch is strong and fast but my knuckles are not aligned.  I turn my hip over on my sidekick but do not get my toes far enough down. Our sensei does not hesitate to point those things out.  It could be a finger out of place.  It could be a slight shift of weight.  We are corrected, and corrected, and corrected again.  And we are expected to be patient, to try again and again until it is exactly right.  We are challenged to go faster, but slow down inside.  We are expected to be strong but also to flow.  We are challenged to remember complicated sequences of movements, barked at us in Korean, and when we are still struggling to learn both the individual movements and the sequences, we are asked to go faster, to execute more precisely, to keep our heads up and our gazes steady.  When we feel like screaming in frustration, we are asked to remain calm and try again.  There are few experiences during the day that are as challenging to my ego.  There are few experiences that make me doubt myself more, that frustrate me more, that make me more aware of my limits and my frailties.   I feel like there are so many details that I could never possibly perfect even the most basic of the traditional forms, that require only down blocks and punches.  And yet, I go back.

At the tournament, there was a lot of confusion about assembling the ring for the adult women.  We were herded this way and that.  We were asked to present tiny cards that had our school, age, and rank to first one set of judges and then another.  But, finally a ring was assembled and the forms competition got underway.  Forms are a pre-determined sequence of blocks and strikes in multiple directions, and they go from the most basic to the most complex.  As a lower belt, my form, Kebon 1, is very basic, with a combination of downward blocks and front punches, performed in all directions.  Because the form is simple, the judging is in the details.  Randomly, I was assigned to perform second.  And as I watched the first competitor, I was struck by her lack of intensity.  All the movements were right.  But there was no fire in her eyes.  I vowed that, whatever happened, I was going to project as much strength and confidence as I could muster.  I would give no outward sign of my pounding heart.  Using a technique from my yoga training, I breathed slowly and deeply to keep calm and tune out the activity around me.  Our ring was right next to another ring, as is often the case at tournaments. And people were spilling into our ring as I entered.  But, I was determined not to be distracted.  I walked purposefully, head high, as if I had walked into a ring a thousand times.  I remembered not look down.  I met the eyes of every judge as I bowed in and told them my name, school, and form.  And when I began to move, I was aware of nothing but the blocks and punches and stances I was executing. Even when a child, not paying attention, ran through the ring, I did not miss a beat.  On my final move, I got in my lowest stance and gave my most intense finishing “ki-up”.

I finished my performance, I exited the ring and sat down to watch the remaining women perform.  I did not know my scores.  Two women were called back to perform again because they had tied.  I assumed that they must have tied for first.  So, mentally I prepared to graciously congratulate the winner.  When they called all of us back to the ring, they started to arrange us in order by score.  I was put at the end.  In spite of my efforts to be calm and unflappable, I did experience a jolt of surprise.  I assumed I had not won but I was not expecting to be last.  I reminded myself that this was my first tournament, a learning experience, and that I had no place to store a massive trophy!  It was not until they actually put the massive trophy in my hands that I realized I was on the end because I was first.  Another jolt of surprise, followed by excitement and gratitude.

I cannot say I have spent much time since then gazing at that trophy but I have looked back several times at the photos taken of my first place performance.  I was not perfect.  But when I look at the photos,  I am actually kind of amazed at the precision of my body and the steeliness in my gaze.  The woman in the photos is someone I don’t entirely recognize but I like her.  She is confident but more than that she is focused.  She does not second guess.  She is proud of her strength.  She moves mindfully and purposefully.  She projects an outer fire but an inner calm.  I would like to be her more.  And that, perhaps, is what keeps me returning to martial arts.

http://www.usatoday.com/travel/destinations/2010-04-24-kentucky-derby-museum_N.htm

My work was on the “Countdown to Victory” films which take visitors behind the scenes during the 30 minutes just prior to the start of the race.  The short films give you a variety of perspectives on the action from the jockeys playing ping pong to calm their nerves,  to the grooms trying to calm the horses as the crowds swell, to the bugler who practices 2 hours a day for the 30-second Call-to-Post, to the “horse identifier” who risks her fingers checking each horse’s mouth for an identifying lip tattoo.  Each person has a unique perspective but they all share a passion for the derby.  I had always assumed that horse racing was an insular world, limited to a privileged few.  But, I learned otherwise in making these films.  Each owner, trainer, jockey, or groom and the many staff that support them seemed to have a unique and compelling story about how they got to the derby, from a jockey fighting back from a spinal cord injury to race again to a lifelong school principal living out his dream to own a Derby horse.

You can check out the Derby Museum website at:

http://www.derbymuseum.org/

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/inside-science-storms-exhibit-10268445

Science Storms reveals the science behind seven natural phenomena—lightning, fire, tornados, avalanches, tsunamis, sunlight and atoms in motion and the museum describes the exhibit as “a perfect storm of physics, chemistry and curiosity.”  You can learn more about the exhibit at

http://www.msichicago.org/whats-here/exhibits/science-storms/

As the producer , what I enjoy about the films is that the scientists  reveal what drives them to study these beautiful and sometimes dangerous phenomena.  So, in addition to learning  how tornadoes or form or what fire really is, you also learn what drives these adventurous (and sometimes mad) scientists to sit under moving avalanches or try to stop light. It helped me appreciate that science is not just gathering data or formulating equations; it’s a creative process fueled by both investigation and imagination.

]]> http://jencrescenzo.com/yoga-musings-resources/30-day-meditation-challenge-day-29/feed/ 0 http://jencrescenzo.com/yoga-classes/quiet-mind-yoga/ http://jencrescenzo.com/yoga-classes/quiet-mind-yoga/#comments Mon, 04 Jan 2010 22:50:22 +0000 Jennifer http://jencrescenzo.com/?p=226 Quiet Mind Yoga, 3423 14th St. N.W., Washington D.C. 20010 www.quietminddc.com: I teach two yoga classes per week at Quiet Mind Yoga in Columbia Heights on 14th Street., right near the intersection with Newton Street.  You’ll find me there on Fridays at 12:30 pm and on Sundays at 12 pm.  Friday is a slower flow with a bit more time spent breaking down the poses.  Sunday is a more challenging flow, often with a playful vibe.  No matter how invigorating the flow, both classes incorporate some longer-held postures in the Yin Yoga style.

Quiet Mind is a really lovely studio, both because of owner Nicole Foley’s hard work and vision and the students who come here to practice.  People are supportive and respectful, both of their teachers and their fellow students.

The studio offers a great introductory deal – $20/2 weeks of unlimited classes.  After that drop-ins are $16/class but class passes and monthly or yearly memberships can knock the price per class down to $7 or less!

Yoga District, Bloomingdale Studio, 1830 First St. N.W., Washington D.C. 20001 www.yogadistrict.com :  Yoga District’s Bloomingdale Studio at 1st and Rhode Island is in a diverse and eclectic neighborhood and the studio really reflects that.  I got a warm welcome from the staff and students and enjoy the regular crew at my Slow Flow class on Tuesday evenings at 6:30 and the students joining my new(ish) Slow Flow class on Thursday’s at 8pm.  What does slow flow mean?  Well, we don’t always flow and it’s not always slow  I’d describe the class as a combination of flowing sequences and some longer-held poses.   I sometimes teach more traditional sun salutations from the Sivananda or Ashtanga traditions but I also offer sequences influenced by dance and martial arts and teachers like Suzee Grilley and Shiva Rea.  Before we get into the “flow”, I always break down the  movements.  As we build into sequences, I offer modifications for beginners and challenges for advanced students.  So, there’s something for everyone!

One of the great things about Yoga District is their philosophy of making yoga accessible for everyone.  That means offering some of the lowest priced classes in town.  A drop-in class is only $10 (you will not find a better deal anywhere in D.C.) and multi-class passes can make classes even more affordable!

Spiral Flight Yoga, 1826 Wisconsin Avenue N.W., Washington D.C. 20007 www.spiralflightyoga.com : Look out for a Yin Yoga workshop (or several) this summer at the lovely Spiral Flight Yoga studio, right across from the recently re-opened Georgetown “social”  Safeway!