Ouray Yoga™

A little departure from the home reno. My hubs and I travelled down to Austin for the American Craft Spirits Association convention/trade show. Fortunately for us, we have friends that love us enough to drive 3 hours from Dallas and spend an evening with us and show us around. (Helps that her mom lives here, so a good little visit on the home front for her, too.) During my walk to Corepower, Marathoners were everywhere! In deep background is Pink Capital Building. Frost Bank Building to the right.  Our totally awesome friends gave us the drive-by tour of Austin. The city is nestled on Lake Austin, part of the Seven Highland Lakes of the lower Colorado River (a damn system, if you ask me). This makes for lots and lots of rowing. We stayed at the Hyatt Regency and, since our cheap room wasn't ready, they upgraded us to a river view. YAY! I was in the room more since it was a distillers convention and I was not a participant. Our host first drove us down to the State Capital building

I recently attended a Corepower Yoga class in Austin, TX (Monarch) and I was a bit taken back by something she said in class. She called out: "Warrior II, interlace fingers behind back and take it into a humble warrior. Well, this isn't a real pose but it was requested so there you have it ." Then when calling the other side she had a name for it: "Ostrich pose." Which, by the way, is what Westerner's call this pose. But my issue is more with saying "it's not a real pose" AND calling someone out on it. Not to get all esoteric, but every position is a pose, every movement is a continuous connection of mudras, this should not be judged as to how real or not the pose is. It's important that instructors understand this. Names and labels help yogi's practice together which, in it's own beautiful way, creates a single meter to a class of collective souls. Preparing the class to feel unified energetically for a stronger channel

I am proud to say that teaching yoga is my hobby job. What is a hobby job? It is working in a profession that you are passionate about but rarely does it pay the bills. When I entered my 200-hour training, located in Boulder, CO, I was one of the oldest trainees and the only one married - let alone with three kids. Not surprising considering I was in the heart of a college town with trustifarin co-eds. Most these girls happily spent their daddy’s money for their 6-week summer camp and didn’t think twice about the investment. Alternatively, I had squirreled away my instructor pay from my group ex job for over a year. I was dedicated to the experience and upon graduating, I was the only one hired-on with the studio except for the other gal who just happened to be sleeping with the lead-instructor. I was luckier than many stay-at-homes, I not only had a supportive husband but also had family around to watch the kids. Nonetheless, I was unable to even start the training until my