Kitchari

Kitchari is a wonderful spring cleansing meal to make. Especially good on a cool spring day like today.

My main yoga teacher, Shiva Rea, often makes kitchari on a hotplate in her hotel rooms when she's traveling (which is often). She turned me on to the kitchari tradition, a soupy meal made from mung beans, basmati rice, and Indian spices. Kitchari, in the ayurvedic tradition, is eaten to improve your digestive fire and eliminate ama (toxins).

If you have a pressure cooker, I did a little experiment on Wednesday and it worked: I combined 1 cup whole dried mung beans, 1 cup basmati rice, and 6 cups filtered water in the pressure cooker. Sealed it, brought it up to high pressure (on high heat), then lowered the temp to keep the pressure up (around low-medium heat) and cooked for 10 mins. I released the pressure by running cold tap water over the top, opened the cooker, et voila, instant kitchari. I didn't add any spices - we just had it with a pat of butter on top. Delish.

Here's a kitchari recipe from Yoga Journal.

Combine some kitchari with a steady diet of hot yoga (which I practiced while my friend Elise was in town; hadn't done that in a while) and you'll be releasing toxins left and right!

I did a teacher training with Shiva back in January 2004 in Venice, CA. She took us out to her house in Malibu and we spent some time on her deck with an incredible view out over the ocean. Gosh that was fun. She's doing a 'pranafication' retreat for past teachers this summer ... a week long. I'm tempted.

Yoga Mama

Great article from Yoga Journal that I read to my mama/baby yoga class about a mother 'living' her yoga.

A mother explains how parenthood has become a part of her practice.
By Janet Stone

Reaching down to pick up the mashed banana from the brand-new carpet, I inhale and plant my feet firmly into the "earth," feeling the four corners of my feet and the brilliant energy coming up my legs. That energy connects with my sacrum as I radiate my heart toward my shins and feel lengthening in my back body.

Then I notice that the oat milk my three-year-old, India, was drinking also landed on the carpet. A wail from the other room pierces my ears as Lilianna, my 11-week-old, attempts to ward off her sister's attacks. I lengthen through the back of my neck, engage my abdominal wall, press down through my feet, and stand tall. I sprint to the next room, where I find said larger child lying atop said newborn. My spine extended, Uddiyana and Mula Bandhas engaged, I lift India off her sister, while my shoulder blades move down my back and my jaw relaxes.

Things settle down, and we move on to muffin baking. Toes brighten as they reach to pick up a fallen tray while one leg feels the inner spiral, and the left hand extends through the fingers to stop the oil from overflowing the measuring cup. I practice pranayama to drown out the loud expressions (called whining) made by my baking partner while balancing the itty-bitty baker on my left shoulder.

I once had a daily two-hour practice. Now I practice from the moment my eyes open until they close. Sacred texts teach nonattachment, noncoveting, uniting opposites. Could there be a better teacher than children? Even if I slipped away to the Himalayas with an enlightened guru, I might not receive such constant opportunities to live my yoga.

Everybody needs a fancy coat...

with a fake fur fringed collar and sleeves ... especially on a snowy spring day like today!

A good morning for an early (7:30 is early for a Sunday) yoga class, full of backbends (invited opening up to vulnerability, left me feeling really invigorated) and a warm chai afterwards. Ahhhh...

The teacher, De, read a really beautiful quote from Rodney Yee's latest book. Here's a quick backbend video from Rodney you can do at your desk this week. (Super simple. The commercial before the video is kinda annoying, but do something else while that's playing, like closing your eyes and taking some long inhales and exhales through your nose.)

Happy Sunday!