Can the hamstrings ever be happy?
Most yoga teachers and experienced students are aware of the issue of tight hamstrings. In western society the "slouch" posture has become the norm. That posture generally involves the tucking of the sacrum and tailbone, which moves the pubic bone forward. If you stand up right now and do this you will probably notice that the buttocks bunch up, the hamstrings shorten and the quadriceps push forward becoming overstretched. This can lead to low back pain. However, if you unlock your knees and let the pubic bone move back while the tailbone softens down and in to greet the pubic bone you may notice a healthier tone returning to the butt and quad muscles allowing the hamstrings to relax and lengthen as the legs elongate.
But what about the flexible yoga practitioner who is experiencing pain at the sits bone, the ischial tuberosity? That pain may also be due to the hamstrings. Let's take the example of adho mukha svanasana, downward facing dog. In this pose, the instruction is often given to lift the sits bones up toward the ceiling while taking the heels to the floor. However, this can create strain on the hamstring muscle and/or the hamstring tendon. To come into this pose first warm up the shoulders, arms and wrists. Then come into table, tuck the toes under and shift the hips back into half-dog, keeping the knees on the floor, the shoulder blades grounded and the armpits light, just as in down dog. From half dog, lengthen the sits bones back and lift the hips from the strong thighs. Keep the knees slightly bent, lift the heels and buttocks up and then begin to “walk the dog”; do this by keeping the balls of your feet in place while bending one knee and lengthening the other several times to warm up the hips and hamstrings.
When ready to come into the full pose, bend both knees to slightly release the hamstrings and allow the pelvis to rotate on the head of the femur (upper leg bone). Then lift both ankles until, as Julia says, there are no wrinkles in the front of the ankle. This begins to lengthen the legs. Allow the sits bones to draw back at an angle toward the back of the room while lengthening the heels toward the back of the mat. Sense the natural alignment (in ShivaShakti this is referred to as a line of energy) that goes from the buttocks to the heels. Without tucking the sacrum let the buttocks flesh melt toward the heels while the toes are drawing energy up to the groins. Feel the connection between the head and the sacrum and between the sacrum and the heels. Back off if there is any sensation of pulling at the sits bone or knee. Remember, something has to stay grounded for something else to stretch. In this case, if the hips are lifted too high to the sky the pelvis doesn't stay grounded, and/or if the quads are bunched (instead of just engaged), the heels will pull and tug on the hamstrings instead of releasing them. This same principle applies to forward bending poses.
Give it a try and see what you think. Hopefully you will find your hamstrings to be happier, whether you started with a slouch or an overstretched muscle. What questions do you have to help me clarify this concept? How can this information translate off the mat, into sitting, standing and walking so the hamstrings can be happy? I’ll write more on this, but in the meantime we would love to hear from you.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Falling and Getting Back Up
Falling and Getting Back Up
Thanks to Angela, our guest blogger, for sharing her experience and wisdom. She provided key insights to holding the space of student, which guides our deepening understanding.
In these past two weeks Angela and I have both blogged about the numerous ways the ego can sneak in and take over. This is normal. I repeat, this is normal. I get frustrated when people say "I can't believe s/he said or did that. After all, they are a yoga teacher". Have you ever heard that? It's as if the credentialing process for being a yoga teacher should include self-actualization. If this is true, there would be fewer teachers and many more gurus.
I don't know any teachers who profess to be perfect. Speaking for myself, I honestly admit that I teach because it keeps me on the path. And what is the path of yoga - it is about remembering our natural state of balance and wholeness, our union. And how do we figure out where we are out of balance? It is by weaving, swaying, tripping and sometimes even falling over. Being a yoga teacher does not mean we don’t trip ourselves up. Hopefully what it does mean is that we are committed to noticing that we have fallen, having the courage to look for what caused us to fall, i.e., the ego, and then getting back up and playing with a new kind of balance. Our mats are places where we practice awareness so we can be more aware in the world. Awareness is the key factor to healing into our wholeness.
Now you may be wondering if Angela and I learned anything on the mat at the yoga therapy training. Indeed we did learn many gems that we will be sharing. One is very apt right now. When talking about the leg action in certain poses such as triangle, trikonasana, Doug Keller would use the imagery of having one foot on the dock with the other foot on the boat and trying not to fall in the water. Just after the workshop, I was about to leave for the cabin in Canada (on a little island in a big lake and reachable by boat only), and I got the image all too well. I have been there and done that. Anyway, try it and see what your experience is and let us know.
Thanks to Angela, our guest blogger, for sharing her experience and wisdom. She provided key insights to holding the space of student, which guides our deepening understanding.
In these past two weeks Angela and I have both blogged about the numerous ways the ego can sneak in and take over. This is normal. I repeat, this is normal. I get frustrated when people say "I can't believe s/he said or did that. After all, they are a yoga teacher". Have you ever heard that? It's as if the credentialing process for being a yoga teacher should include self-actualization. If this is true, there would be fewer teachers and many more gurus.
I don't know any teachers who profess to be perfect. Speaking for myself, I honestly admit that I teach because it keeps me on the path. And what is the path of yoga - it is about remembering our natural state of balance and wholeness, our union. And how do we figure out where we are out of balance? It is by weaving, swaying, tripping and sometimes even falling over. Being a yoga teacher does not mean we don’t trip ourselves up. Hopefully what it does mean is that we are committed to noticing that we have fallen, having the courage to look for what caused us to fall, i.e., the ego, and then getting back up and playing with a new kind of balance. Our mats are places where we practice awareness so we can be more aware in the world. Awareness is the key factor to healing into our wholeness.
Now you may be wondering if Angela and I learned anything on the mat at the yoga therapy training. Indeed we did learn many gems that we will be sharing. One is very apt right now. When talking about the leg action in certain poses such as triangle, trikonasana, Doug Keller would use the imagery of having one foot on the dock with the other foot on the boat and trying not to fall in the water. Just after the workshop, I was about to leave for the cabin in Canada (on a little island in a big lake and reachable by boat only), and I got the image all too well. I have been there and done that. Anyway, try it and see what your experience is and let us know.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
When the Teacher Becomes the Student, Part 11
When the Teacher Becomes the Student, Part II
Last week Janice wrote about situations when the teacher becomes the student, as when attending a yoga workshop. I’d like to pick up on that thread but take the topic in a different vein.
As yogis, we have a lot we can share. Seasoned yoga teachers, especially, have years of training and teaching experience to draw upon, which we are supposed to share with our students. It’s our job to verbally cue our students to find their way in a pose. It’s our job to give voice to yogic wisdom about everyday life. It’s even our job to help our students sing and chant. For teachers of hatha yoga – the physical path - we use our throat chakras quite a bit. The throat chakra is governed by udana vayu – energy that moves up and out.
But how much are we to share when we are taking a workshop as a student and there is another teacher whose job it is to voice and share his or her knowledge? When we shift from yoga teacher to yoga student, the role we play can become hazy in our own mind. We get used to an outflow of information from ourselves to our students (udana), then when enrolled as a student in a workshop we are required to shift to drawing in the information. Making that shift in roles is temporary: we need to practice the workshop content enough to digest it (samana) and then offer the processed content back to our students (udana again). However temporary the shift in roles is, the transition can be difficult for those who are not mindful of the need to shift roles. So, how do we decide what to share in a workshop setting and when to just keep things to ourselves?
The answer may lie in adjusting our focus within much lower, to the root chakra, governed by apana vayu. Apana is related to releasing what is not needed. We often think of this in terms of bodily functions, but to quote Doug Keller (Refining the Breath, p. 135),
“In a subtle but vital sense, the apana vayu has much to do with our power of decisiveness and self-determination, both of which turn upon our power of choice. Choice demands not only the affirmation of one possible good, but also the elimination or exclusion of other competing goods – choosing one good over another. Clarity in defining oneself demands decisiveness in eliminating what doesn’t work for us, what is not needed, or what conflicts with our highest goals.”
So while we may have something to offer – the greater good, may be served by not saying anything. If our highest goal at a workshop is to learn, maybe sharing what we already know is not serving the highest good. So how do we decide? Oddly, when thinking about this I was reminded of The Four-Way Test of Rotary International, which I learned about through my husband. It suggests,
“Of the things we think, say or do
1. Is it the TRUTH?
2. Is it FAIR to all concerned?
3. Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS?
4. Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?”
When I mentioned the Rotary questions to another yogi she reminded me of a similar set of questions which are attributed to Socrates: “Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?” And Sai Baba is said to have added, “Will it hurt anyone?” and my personal favorite, “Does it improve the silence?”
It is an easy jump from these lines of inquiry to the yamas: “Is it true?” obviously connects to satya (non-lying), though in a workshop setting, truth is generally not an issue. While listening to the content in a workshop we relate the content to our personal experience and often also decide whether we want to share that truth from our own experience. Upon occasion we may even find that the experience we have the urge to relate is less honorable, even if it is true. If we are making a gossipy side-comment, the veracity of that comment should be considered as well as whether it is harmful to someone. This leads nicely to the yama ahimsa (non-violence).
Interestingly, the three sources of criteria that I previously mentioned are focused on ahimsa: “Is it kind (fair/beneficial)?”, “Will it build goodwill and better friendships?” and “Will it hurt anyone?” To expand ahimsa beyond the physical we can add: will your comment hurt another student’s ability to learn? Will it take the class off-track? Is it detrimental so someone? Side comments, not spoken to the whole group often interfere with the class’ ability to hear the teacher. And the teacher may find it difficult to focus with other conversations going on. Those are also harms we can perpetrate.
Hidden in these side comments is the yama asteya (non-stealing). Are you stealing another student’s focus? Are you stealing time from the topic at hand? Are you stealing the limelight for yourself?
Which takes us to the yama aparigraha (non-attachment). Once you’ve got the limelight, can you let it go? Do you hang onto it and keep talking? Are your side comments about drawing attention away from the teacher and to yourself?
Finally, Sai Baba’s questions, “Is it necessary?” and “Will it improve the silence?” seem to me to be related to brahmacharya (restraint of the senses). Brahmacharya gets a lot of attention because it is most associated with celibacy, but it can also be thought of as self-restraint, or having some control over your impulses. When you have the impulse to share, can you edit yourself to sharing what is pertinent and helpful versus what is distracting and off track? Can you determine what is not helpful at the time and save it for later? Or maybe you have a question that is important but so personalized or detailed and specific that it would be better asked one-on-one. Saving it and asking it later is restraining the senses.
In writing this post I certainly do not want to dampen the lively interaction and learning that can occur at workshops; the give and take of the collective wisdom that exists in a particular classroom can truly be exciting. And I certainly am not suggesting that, as a teacher taking a workshop, you shouldn’t ask questions. I am just suggesting that as teachers we take our yoga practice with us when we are in the role of students. If we are aware of our energy and how it is flowing, if we reflect on the questions provided by Rotary International, Socrates, and Sai Baba, and if we remember the wisdom of the yamas, the quality of the interaction you and your fellow students have with a teacher may be positively influenced. An increase in the level of learning in turn influences the level of teaching we offer when we leave the workshop. That improves everybody’s yoga!
Please let ShivaShakti Synthesis know if these thoughts and lines of inquiry are helpful in determining what to share at a workshop. Or perhaps you have another way to decide. Will you share?
Angela Nicolosi
Last week Janice wrote about situations when the teacher becomes the student, as when attending a yoga workshop. I’d like to pick up on that thread but take the topic in a different vein.
As yogis, we have a lot we can share. Seasoned yoga teachers, especially, have years of training and teaching experience to draw upon, which we are supposed to share with our students. It’s our job to verbally cue our students to find their way in a pose. It’s our job to give voice to yogic wisdom about everyday life. It’s even our job to help our students sing and chant. For teachers of hatha yoga – the physical path - we use our throat chakras quite a bit. The throat chakra is governed by udana vayu – energy that moves up and out.
But how much are we to share when we are taking a workshop as a student and there is another teacher whose job it is to voice and share his or her knowledge? When we shift from yoga teacher to yoga student, the role we play can become hazy in our own mind. We get used to an outflow of information from ourselves to our students (udana), then when enrolled as a student in a workshop we are required to shift to drawing in the information. Making that shift in roles is temporary: we need to practice the workshop content enough to digest it (samana) and then offer the processed content back to our students (udana again). However temporary the shift in roles is, the transition can be difficult for those who are not mindful of the need to shift roles. So, how do we decide what to share in a workshop setting and when to just keep things to ourselves?
The answer may lie in adjusting our focus within much lower, to the root chakra, governed by apana vayu. Apana is related to releasing what is not needed. We often think of this in terms of bodily functions, but to quote Doug Keller (Refining the Breath, p. 135),
“In a subtle but vital sense, the apana vayu has much to do with our power of decisiveness and self-determination, both of which turn upon our power of choice. Choice demands not only the affirmation of one possible good, but also the elimination or exclusion of other competing goods – choosing one good over another. Clarity in defining oneself demands decisiveness in eliminating what doesn’t work for us, what is not needed, or what conflicts with our highest goals.”
So while we may have something to offer – the greater good, may be served by not saying anything. If our highest goal at a workshop is to learn, maybe sharing what we already know is not serving the highest good. So how do we decide? Oddly, when thinking about this I was reminded of The Four-Way Test of Rotary International, which I learned about through my husband. It suggests,
“Of the things we think, say or do
1. Is it the TRUTH?
2. Is it FAIR to all concerned?
3. Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS?
4. Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?”
When I mentioned the Rotary questions to another yogi she reminded me of a similar set of questions which are attributed to Socrates: “Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?” And Sai Baba is said to have added, “Will it hurt anyone?” and my personal favorite, “Does it improve the silence?”
It is an easy jump from these lines of inquiry to the yamas: “Is it true?” obviously connects to satya (non-lying), though in a workshop setting, truth is generally not an issue. While listening to the content in a workshop we relate the content to our personal experience and often also decide whether we want to share that truth from our own experience. Upon occasion we may even find that the experience we have the urge to relate is less honorable, even if it is true. If we are making a gossipy side-comment, the veracity of that comment should be considered as well as whether it is harmful to someone. This leads nicely to the yama ahimsa (non-violence).
Interestingly, the three sources of criteria that I previously mentioned are focused on ahimsa: “Is it kind (fair/beneficial)?”, “Will it build goodwill and better friendships?” and “Will it hurt anyone?” To expand ahimsa beyond the physical we can add: will your comment hurt another student’s ability to learn? Will it take the class off-track? Is it detrimental so someone? Side comments, not spoken to the whole group often interfere with the class’ ability to hear the teacher. And the teacher may find it difficult to focus with other conversations going on. Those are also harms we can perpetrate.
Hidden in these side comments is the yama asteya (non-stealing). Are you stealing another student’s focus? Are you stealing time from the topic at hand? Are you stealing the limelight for yourself?
Which takes us to the yama aparigraha (non-attachment). Once you’ve got the limelight, can you let it go? Do you hang onto it and keep talking? Are your side comments about drawing attention away from the teacher and to yourself?
Finally, Sai Baba’s questions, “Is it necessary?” and “Will it improve the silence?” seem to me to be related to brahmacharya (restraint of the senses). Brahmacharya gets a lot of attention because it is most associated with celibacy, but it can also be thought of as self-restraint, or having some control over your impulses. When you have the impulse to share, can you edit yourself to sharing what is pertinent and helpful versus what is distracting and off track? Can you determine what is not helpful at the time and save it for later? Or maybe you have a question that is important but so personalized or detailed and specific that it would be better asked one-on-one. Saving it and asking it later is restraining the senses.
In writing this post I certainly do not want to dampen the lively interaction and learning that can occur at workshops; the give and take of the collective wisdom that exists in a particular classroom can truly be exciting. And I certainly am not suggesting that, as a teacher taking a workshop, you shouldn’t ask questions. I am just suggesting that as teachers we take our yoga practice with us when we are in the role of students. If we are aware of our energy and how it is flowing, if we reflect on the questions provided by Rotary International, Socrates, and Sai Baba, and if we remember the wisdom of the yamas, the quality of the interaction you and your fellow students have with a teacher may be positively influenced. An increase in the level of learning in turn influences the level of teaching we offer when we leave the workshop. That improves everybody’s yoga!
Please let ShivaShakti Synthesis know if these thoughts and lines of inquiry are helpful in determining what to share at a workshop. Or perhaps you have another way to decide. Will you share?
Angela Nicolosi
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The teacher becomes the student
The teacher becomes the student
A sign of a good teacher is the one that is able to also be the student. Teachers learn in the moment from experiences with their students and other teachers. They also benefit from purposefully putting themselves in the role of student, as I did recently by attending the Doug Keller yoga therapy training. I have eagerly been anticipating this event for over a year, as I was unable to go last year. As a side note, he is a wonderful teacher if you ever have the chance to attend one of his trainings.
I arrived just in time for the training due to work and traffic. As a result, I got a spot in what I will refer to as the “black hole” of the room. I did not feel a sense of connection, and as we know from yoga, disconnect is the reason we develop an ego. My ego, which tends to show up as self depreciating, began to get loud. A common misconception is that ego is bragging and boastful, but that is only one side of the coin. Whether you are telling yourself you are better or worse, it's still all ego. My negative self talk ramped up and for awhile I bought into it. And then remembering came to me. I was not alone. I am perfectly imperfect. I am part of an incredible tradition that is still developing.
Once this awareness came I could see the factors that were contributing to my discomfort and rather than sit and suffer by myself, I reached out. By sharing my vulnerability and being received with empathy, my perspective changed. Does this mean that my ego was totally silent for the rest of the training? Not at all. But I could laugh at my thoughts, I could share them with others and best of all, I could remember the underlying connection and unity that ties us all together.
I learned a lot on about yoga therapeutics as well and am looking forward to sharing those next time we meet. In the meantime, check in with your sense of self and remember you are not alone. We have each other's back.
Shanti, Janice
A sign of a good teacher is the one that is able to also be the student. Teachers learn in the moment from experiences with their students and other teachers. They also benefit from purposefully putting themselves in the role of student, as I did recently by attending the Doug Keller yoga therapy training. I have eagerly been anticipating this event for over a year, as I was unable to go last year. As a side note, he is a wonderful teacher if you ever have the chance to attend one of his trainings.
I arrived just in time for the training due to work and traffic. As a result, I got a spot in what I will refer to as the “black hole” of the room. I did not feel a sense of connection, and as we know from yoga, disconnect is the reason we develop an ego. My ego, which tends to show up as self depreciating, began to get loud. A common misconception is that ego is bragging and boastful, but that is only one side of the coin. Whether you are telling yourself you are better or worse, it's still all ego. My negative self talk ramped up and for awhile I bought into it. And then remembering came to me. I was not alone. I am perfectly imperfect. I am part of an incredible tradition that is still developing.
Once this awareness came I could see the factors that were contributing to my discomfort and rather than sit and suffer by myself, I reached out. By sharing my vulnerability and being received with empathy, my perspective changed. Does this mean that my ego was totally silent for the rest of the training? Not at all. But I could laugh at my thoughts, I could share them with others and best of all, I could remember the underlying connection and unity that ties us all together.
I learned a lot on about yoga therapeutics as well and am looking forward to sharing those next time we meet. In the meantime, check in with your sense of self and remember you are not alone. We have each other's back.
Shanti, Janice
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Life of a Householder
The Life of the Householder
With summer at its fullest, how is your garden growing? Thank you Angela for taking a personal experience and allowing your insights to guide us into our own deepening awareness. Angela’s thoughts lead perfectly into the focus of our next post.
Someone recently asked me to talk about the tenuous balance of being a serious yoga practitioner and a householder. On the one hand we talk about honoring the body, mind and soul by caring for it so we can remember our union, while the reality often is that we don’t have the time to do the sort of self care that helps us stay healthy and mindful. This is so true and it is sad to see people shame themselves or be shamed for getting sick because they “didn’t take care of themselves.” When a child (or another loved one) is sick, a partner is laid off requiring the other to work extra hours, or there are cut backs at work due to the economy and the job now has additional requirements, etc., there is a need to push through the situation and take care of the crisis.
What seems to have happened to many people, however, is that they end up staying in crisis mode. Following any push, there has to be a time for recovery. It may not be as much time as is “ideal” but it is essential to find time for that practice (perhaps a 20 minute nap or yoga nidra) that, to use Angela’s image, creates less space for the weeds to grow.
So yes, as householders, we will always be pushed, prodded and demanded to go outside of the “balanced” yogic lifestyle. Remember that imbalance is simply an opportunity to find a new balance that serves better in this moment, the only moment there is, the present.
How do you carve out that time for you? And can you treat that time with the same diligence and ferocity as you would a child under your care? You matter too.
With summer at its fullest, how is your garden growing? Thank you Angela for taking a personal experience and allowing your insights to guide us into our own deepening awareness. Angela’s thoughts lead perfectly into the focus of our next post.
Someone recently asked me to talk about the tenuous balance of being a serious yoga practitioner and a householder. On the one hand we talk about honoring the body, mind and soul by caring for it so we can remember our union, while the reality often is that we don’t have the time to do the sort of self care that helps us stay healthy and mindful. This is so true and it is sad to see people shame themselves or be shamed for getting sick because they “didn’t take care of themselves.” When a child (or another loved one) is sick, a partner is laid off requiring the other to work extra hours, or there are cut backs at work due to the economy and the job now has additional requirements, etc., there is a need to push through the situation and take care of the crisis.
What seems to have happened to many people, however, is that they end up staying in crisis mode. Following any push, there has to be a time for recovery. It may not be as much time as is “ideal” but it is essential to find time for that practice (perhaps a 20 minute nap or yoga nidra) that, to use Angela’s image, creates less space for the weeds to grow.
So yes, as householders, we will always be pushed, prodded and demanded to go outside of the “balanced” yogic lifestyle. Remember that imbalance is simply an opportunity to find a new balance that serves better in this moment, the only moment there is, the present.
How do you carve out that time for you? And can you treat that time with the same diligence and ferocity as you would a child under your care? You matter too.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Weeding AND Feeding
Spring was rough – I experienced both physical and emotional challenges. After several family crises in the same week I sought salve for my soul in my backyard garden. It needed tending and so did I. In a two day period that offered temperatures in the high 90s, I broke down hunks of donated hostas into 25 individual plants to create a border of green and white.
The physical labor was good for me as I sweated and shifted the earth into a new arrangement. My mind was busy with decisions about how to best to divide the hostas and where to place them, not worrying about loved ones far away. At one time the far end of the very shady yard had been cleared to expose a wide swath of rich black earth, but was never fully landscaped. Now muddy and overgrown, it offered little beauty, which describes pretty much how I felt. I was determined to plant a deep border of hostas on that end, and a single line of hostas along the north side of the yard to fill the space, create some order and offer beauty to the beholder.
On the second of those days of hot, hard earthwork, I heard myself thinking for the umpteenth time that if we plant more of what we want (like hostas), there will be less room for things we don’t want to grow (like weeds). And then I had the epiphany that this is true for humans, too. Planting for humans is doing our self-care practices, mantras, prayer, meditation, fun, work we love, spending time with friends, etc. The more life is filled with these things (the ones we want), the less room we leave for worrying, complaining, illness and unhappiness - the weeds of life.
What are you planting today? Tomorrow? And all the days after that?
The physical labor was good for me as I sweated and shifted the earth into a new arrangement. My mind was busy with decisions about how to best to divide the hostas and where to place them, not worrying about loved ones far away. At one time the far end of the very shady yard had been cleared to expose a wide swath of rich black earth, but was never fully landscaped. Now muddy and overgrown, it offered little beauty, which describes pretty much how I felt. I was determined to plant a deep border of hostas on that end, and a single line of hostas along the north side of the yard to fill the space, create some order and offer beauty to the beholder.
On the second of those days of hot, hard earthwork, I heard myself thinking for the umpteenth time that if we plant more of what we want (like hostas), there will be less room for things we don’t want to grow (like weeds). And then I had the epiphany that this is true for humans, too. Planting for humans is doing our self-care practices, mantras, prayer, meditation, fun, work we love, spending time with friends, etc. The more life is filled with these things (the ones we want), the less room we leave for worrying, complaining, illness and unhappiness - the weeds of life.
What are you planting today? Tomorrow? And all the days after that?
Saturday, July 9, 2011
We are ShivaShaktiSynthesis
Recently someone asked me how to describe her style of yoga. She said, … “People call themselves Iyengar, Kripalu, Anusara etc. What are we?” I replied, “We are ShivaShakti Synthesis.” What a wonderful way to get a conversation going. If someone asks about your style of yoga and you say “I was trained through ShivaShakti Synthesis,” they are sure to ask what that is. This becomes your opening to say what ShivaShakti means to you. ShivaShakti is about finding your authentic voice. Acknowledge your tradition and use your words to let the world know what your passion and offer is. What are your feelings about this? And how would you describe your offer?
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