Rhythm of Life. Trina D’anne Hall. Trina Hall.

What is the rhythm of life?

Remember, Atlas shrugged, too.

Seeking an answer is like trying to understand the tree by only looking into its shadow.
In the silence, the beat, butterfly wings pulsing at your heart.

Witness sacred in mundane.
Take care of yourself and wear your apron.
Sweep your own floors.
Make dinner as you linger in another’s depth.

See the resonance – the relics and the seeds.

Look to the tree, inspiration between limbs.  It holds up the sky where you shine.

Yoga According to Treenuh Yoga. Trina Hall. Dallas Yoga. Private Lessons Musicians Artists.

Sometimes we make important life decisions based on what we think we should do.  The “should” can become a barometer for being loved or accepted by others. Much of my life was spent as a purposeful outsider… Never wanting to be adopted into one group, I joined them all. It is like how I can’t choose my favorite color – wouldn’t green get its feelings hurt if I chose pink?

While working in an art gallery and at a museum, I found yoga. Finally, something pure enough for me to want to dig my teeth into. I said my vows, got my membership card and thought of how to best serve yoga itself. I wanted to give people something to look up to… I wanted to be a leader. I wanted to be heard.

So I traded in my vintage hat collection for an ascetic life, trying to free myself from desires and craving.  I cleansed. I purified. I tried to honor what the yogic teachings offered me. Glamour and elegance no longer mattered to me. I wanted to embody the perfect yogi.  As a girly girl who started wearing high heels before she could ride a bike, it was a stretch to stop wearing make up, but I did.

I became obsessed with my ideal of what I thought I should be. My self-esteem was garnered from an external perception and I somehow always fell short.

All this did is isolate me further from my own truth: anything other than following your heart is a form of self-deception.  I was too truthful outwardly to others but little by little, I lied to my heart.

I’ve embraced more of myself – who I am beyond archetypes and titles – and my art is now reflecting my heart instead of my issues.  It’s ok to be in love with who I really am and at the end of the day, I’m the only one who is keeping score.

I don’t want to be an ascetic. That isn’t the key to happiness. Happiness lives in the space. Happiness lives in gratitude… Fall down on your knees kind of gratitude. Find the things that make your heart smile and do more of that. I don’t want to be a part of anything less than helping people remember this. We all know it, we just need to be reminded – everything is cool.

Score one for me – I can finally put on my cocktail dress, open a bottle of champagne and do yoga in my favorite pair of heels. Ok so it wasn’t the most comfortable of endeavors, but you get the point, right?

I’d rather stand on my head than talk about the weather.

The Fat Yoga Teacher. Trina Hall Treenuh Yoga. Photos by Napier Photographie. Dallas Texas

Treenuh Yoga seated forward fold fat yoga teacherDo you think I am fat? If I were in front of you in typical yoga spandex, would you judge me?

I’ve gained weight and I’m not pregnant. I’ve followed the brand new, yogi-approved Seat Diet.

See it… eat it.

As a yoga teacher, this could be considered career suicide. Instead of slaying my means of supporting myself, I want to slay the notion that people who do yoga need to look like the beauties on the cover of magazines. Last year, my best friend said crying as she dealt with her lifelong eating disorder, “I don’t want to be known as the fat yoga teacher.” I was taken aback by this statement because I would classify her as beautiful, fit, and trim. I wanted to explore her statement that resonated in my mind like the frequency of fingernails tagging with sound their presence on the chalkboard.Treenuh Yoga janu sirsasana 3 fat yoga teacher

To me, ‘fat’ is an arbitrary word that is used as ammunition to harm another. I’m not at war.

I thought this would be an experiment in empowering people to love their bodies and not try to fit society’s mold. Instead, reality of my latent insecurities came like a football team’s kicker being put in as the center (my identity was pummeled).

The stories I made up about what people thought of me were changing and I was emotionally affected. Suddenly, my self-worth was proving to be connected to how good I looked wearing spandex – something I completely denied giving a shit about before this experiment – and that pissed me off.  Guilt from eating foods I typically considered bad for me were constant companions in my thoughts. Shame did cameo appearances in my mind’s movie reel daily.

My most shocking discovery through the process is that I’m afraid of not being loved. I noticed the self-talk was that my beauty is only on the surface. I feared no man would want me this way and that I would die alone, probably from choking on a potato chip. There was a war going on inside of me and neither side was winning. Once I unraveled the fears and self-assaulting language as irrational, they no longer had power over me and I began to relax into my new found “goods”.

Nietzsche says the thing separating men from gods is the belly. May we all expand our bellies to digest our fears and empower our minds to think. May we all understand that we all want to be loved for who we are… however we are in the moment. And may we all find love and not die alone, from potato chip asphyxiation.

PS – I’m not fat; I’m fucking awesome!

New-Age ‘Secrets’ and Why They Don’t Work

There was a time when all I needed for inspiration was a quote, horoscope, fortune cookie, or one of those refrigerator magnet poems. The days of fluffing the pillows of hope to make the world seem less random are over. I am simultaneously distraught and relieved that I no longer rely on my tea bag for a shot of wisdom.

My industry is known for injecting the public with heightened inspiration, feel-good yumminess, and the perception that one can be happy all the time. I’m a generally calm and happy person but I’m over the illusion that we can talk ourselves into seeing the half-full glass as overflowing.

Nature is my teacher. People are a part of nature and in my work, I come in contact with a diverse group of humans. A lot of people subscribe to the theory posed by a new-age book that claims to reveal the one secret law of the universe. Basically, it says one just has to specifically ask the universe for what one wants and, like a genie granting wishes, it will appear.

I’m a big believer in setting a goal and a bigger believer in working my ass off to achieve the goal. Whether or not I accomplish the goal seems to only come down to how I choose to spend my time… Not whether I put the right picture on my vision board/talked with my angel guides/chose the right spirit animal before my vision quest.

We have an immense amount of power in our brains to change the way we think about things, but because we change our thoughts does not make something manifest into this world.

I’ve found the people who talk the most about manifesting are the people who are doing the furthest thing from their ideal job. I get that we all want direction and we all want a plan, but the thing that pisses me off about “The Secret” will hopefully become clear by the end of this rant.

Driving down a busy street in Dallas in the middle of Summer, I saw a man carrying his groceries. He was blind and using a walking stick. Do you think it would help him to wish himself out of blindness? Do you think having a clear intention would spontaneously make him able to see? No. And an intention like that would be a complete waste of time and energy whose results would be futile.

He inspired me. He didn’t let his fear take hold of him.

A student of mine was struggling in a yoga class this morning. We were doing Downward Facing Dog. For many healthy people, this pose is a breeze. This man would get into the pose for about one second and need to come down to his knees again. He did this five times in the eight seconds we held the pose. This student has Cerebral Palsy and wants so badly to do the yoga poses everyone else in the class is doing. Do you think if he was very clear that he is asking the universe to heal him that he would get better? Do you think it is a good use of his mental capacities to dream of having use of all motor and mental functions?

He inspired me. He kept trying. He isn’t giving up.

People who do their best with what they have inspire me. Determination and focus inspire me. Vision and creativity inspire me. Don’t tell me the world is going to shimmer with sparkles and happiness when sometimes it is just going to suck. Teach me how to work with what I have – to shape my own clay into something I really love. Teach me how to get re-focussed when I lose sight. Teach me how to love.

Reality of Acceptance. Trina Hall.

Equations make sense because we’ve all agreed on the meaning of the symbols within the equation. The plus sign means what it means and there isn’t any argument. We don’t put our subjective vacillating thoughts on the number 8, expecting it to adapt to our will.

Labels and titles are different. When we embark on a journey of any kind with any sort of title or label, we carry along the expectations of said title with us. We project our desires and insecurities onto the title, or moreso, onto the person we’ve bestowed the title upon. This projection creates a disparity between truth (undifferentiated reality – looking at ‘what is’) and our projection of what we think the truth should be.

We all do this unconsciously. How can we begin to recognize the pattern? Notice when you complain about something someone else is doing. A complaint is simply saying, “Reality is different from my projection of what I think reality should be.” You can easily get into a battle of wills stemmed from your desire to control someone or a situation. Reality always wins – it is more of a control freak than you are and it will make you happier if you accept other people the way they are without complaining.

Don’t try to make someone better. You can only attempt to make yourself better.

Accepting someone how they are without trying to change them is a form of love. My most fulfilling relationships are the ones where acceptance is mutual. My dearest friends see my character flaws. They don’t spend time dwelling in my apparent short comings and they don’t remind me of my inability to be perfect. They love me in spite of myself.

I’m in love with many people. I’m in love with the wholeness of them. I am in love with their humanness. I love the unspoken connection. I love the knowing. I lean into the ease of loving.

Yoga and The Force. Treenuh Yoga. Trina Hall.

Yoga is a beautiful tool for communicating with people.  However, its reach is limited.

The public’s perception of what yoga is and what yoga does is tainted.  Far too often, yogis are portrayed as idiots who are so out of touch with reality. You’ve seen them: the aging men wearing robes or something that resembles a diaper… or as the smiley chick in spandex doing some crazy pose on the cover of many magazines on display at your local Whole Foods… or as the long-haired hippie who touches your spouse in inappropriate places during yoga class while on a couples retreat.

That’s what the public sees…

What they don’t see is that behind each yoga studio door, we are collectively studying what is energy. We are practicing presence.  We are basically like Luke in Star Wars – learning to use the force.

I recently watched Star Wars again.  Having seen it probably close to 100 times as a child, it was fascinating to watch it through the eyes of someone who has studied yoga. My favorite concept from the film is the force, followed by the myth of the hero.  

When Luke asks Han if he believes in the force, Han says there is no proof of one force controlling everything.  There are some of my students who are just like Han Solo – they hear the word ‘energy’ just like Han hears ‘the force’ and think it is a bunch of nonsense.

We all want proof.  Science gives us proof.  Yoga is a science. 

I only know what my experience on the mat has proven to me.  Every time I step on the mat, I form a hypothesis, perform the experiment, and come to a conclusion.  I don’t know if the artistic side is creating the experience or the scientific method is proving the hypothesis.

Either way, the force is one hell of a ride –

The Men I love.

Have you ever looked around your house at all the things you keep and see a common theme?  My theme is a collection of items that represent the men who have most influenced my life.

I have my grandpa’s cowboy hat, his cameras, the book he read to me as a little girl.  He was a boisterous, jolly architect (who never graduated high school), who loved to fish, played the fiddle, was an elder in the Church of Christ, and escaped as a POW during World War II. Never settling for anything average, Grandpa added color and depth to my life as if I lived in the Wizard of Oz after the house landed on the witch. He believed in family. He believed in laughter. He believed in love. I sure do wish I could hug him now and tell him what is going on in my life.  I’m having one of those moments where I realize he would be proud of me and who I have become.  The tears magnify the letters on my screen as I know what it feels like to be loved.

My dad often gave me pens as a child because of my love of office supplies.  Just like a musical instrument can be a muse, a new pen is my muse.  I love to test drive a pen to feel how it performs in my hand and glides across the paper.  My dad also gave me determination and project-based thinking, a logical mind, as well as the desire to see things differently. After his dad’s funeral, we took a three-hour drive home and discussed the nature of time. It was the first time I saw him as a philosopher as we bantered back and forth about alternate universes. He took what are called “Daddy shortcuts” where we would take the time from point A to B to see something beautiful.  I do this now.  Thanks to him, I know how to take my time. Poppa took me on dates as a little girl and I fell in love with this protector who worked full time and went to school full time to take better care of us. He is the kind of person who knows what the weather is going to be. He always carries a pocket knife and is active in his church choir. He was a boy scout troop leader who can start a fire with dryer lint. I can’t believe he is my dad. I’m lucky.

Rob Brown was my mentor and friend.  A wicked sense of humor and impeccable timing joined us together along with our love of art, music, and generally messing with people.  He said, “I want to change all I’s in the alphabet to U’s,” So we dud.  Every sungle one of them was changed un oir dauly conversatuons and emauls.  Before he died, he gave me a book of Richard Avedon photography that holds a special place on my bookshelf.  He was listening to Desperados Waiting on a Train by Jerry Jeff Walker the entire week before he prematurely passed – so now that song is one that will make me cry no matter what.  It summed up what our relationship was – I was his sidekick.  That man left the planet way too soon.

I suppose the purpose of this very personal blog post is to convey that I’ve known extraordinary men who have taught me love.  I have reminders of that love all around me that hold space for something special.

Man and Woman

He has two gods: nature and music. The notes were his companion, the former rests somewhere beyond the view, begging to be graced with his footsteps. “Don’t look at me. Be with me,” Mother Nature commanded, knowing he was afraid of the dark. Did he need more strength to be strong?

Burying the barbed wire beneath the brush, a toll was paid to the cheribum, Fear and Desire, to enter the garden at Giverny. The forest was disenchanted, the wolf his companion as the path was marked with art.

For seven days, he ran. He collapsed and shouted his hands skyward, seeking the mother he never had in a tree.  This was his other.

She was concerned about the depth of his faith so decided to practice hers. She already survived Hades resting place where creativity’s marrow was sucked from her soul and she sought counsel in the clouds.

Sounds of a ritualized morning beckoned her from the sky. He opened the aperture of her life and grew himself in her womb. The body of his home now received her touch, the echoes of laughter and love making swam through stone and wood. She held her lion’s hand as his compass for navigating the shadow. He always had courage and seeing Waxing Gibbous reminded him of her light. He knew his light was lovable and finally had proof the entirety of his makeup being dressed down was loved, too.

She was his shelter. She was his light. They were love.

Investing their dividends, they wrote a business plan for their perspectives: luxurious utilitarianism and altruistic indulgence.

Key Collecting. Trina D’anne Hall. Trina Hall. 7-20-2012 blog

She heard a voice while searching for a sign in the woods that closed her throat in on itself like a black hole swallowing matter. It sucked her breath, her umbilical cord to source. The alchemy of longing changed to feeling. All grown up, she waved the white flag to no one among the silence in the trees, her heart open, revealing to the space her fear that he was only in the vivid hues of imagination.

All this time selecting, grading, discarding, she turned herself into a miner. Infatuation was all a matter of perspective as she snapped up, documented and filed the moments through her left eye. The view from the high rise was the same as the view from the lake.  She became a key collector.

Daily, her ritual bath was self-awareness. Doing what was filtered into her imagination, she knew.

Can she change her last name to Hope? It resided in her thoughts where truth murders time and expectation dances with faith. She’s known this is the place only she can go – never looking back like Orpheus did and never wearing a watch.  At least this way she could blame it on their individual mission statements and the IPO.

Is this the last time she cries for the love only held through conversations with Mr. Rogers? Relief comes in the stillness, the knowing, that he will find her.

Incantation
materializes
coals
diamonds.

As sculptors, they created each other.  They were detectives searching for the seed planted by children force fed a diet of judgement.  At the end of the day, she drew him from the mountain, home to rest his head upon her breast. Who is with you at the end of the day is what matters.  Thought bubbles held songs that shaped her upbringing and he read them like a comic strip.  She listened to his ideas, connections, contemplation, confessions and worries.  He was only waiting to hear her voice.  She talked of her gratitude, her forgiveness, her knowing, and confessed her fears.

Everyday they walked in the woods, showing each other the signs, drinking the nectar of the gods.

Dream Believer. Higgs. God particle. Dreamer. Trina hall treenuh yoga Dallas

Today, it was announced that researchers at CERN discovered a particle that is in line with the “God particle” Higgs believed to be at the core of the Theory of Everything… It explains why matter has a mass. Pretty cool stuff.

Before this discovery, it was just a theory… An idea… Somethig floating in the ether with no proof to ground it to reality.

Isn’t that what all dreams are?

I’ve always been a dreamer. I have always lived in my own mind, and as Lyle Lovett says, ain’t nothin but a good time. My mom has been my sounding board for most of these ideas and she always, without a doubt, thought I was crazy and that it couldn’t happen. I think it always surprises her when my dreams come true.

The bottom line is we are here for a limited time. With our dreams, it is like some people see there is an expiration date on the milk, but ignore it… Nah, there’s time.

I see two reasons why my dreams come true:
1. I visualize whatever it is happening… And I get a little bit obsessed with it. I work tirelessly toward fulfilling that dream.
2. I believe it can happen. I have faith.

A dream of mine is coming true tomorrow as I teach my new Creative Process Yoga class at The Crow Collection of Asian Art. I get to fulfill more of my purpose to teach about the creative process and yoga.

I see the expiration date but I’m not fighting against it… today. Today, the “God particle” was brought down to reality and I watched several mindless clips on YouTube… really. I think everything is right in the world.

The Hero’s Journey. Joseph Campbell. Trina Hall. Yoga Dallas. Treenuh Yoga.

We are all on a hero’s journey.  Some of us know what we seek and others are completely unaware they are living a life of purpose.  Joseph Campbell wrote a book called A Hero with a Thousand faces that outlines the myth of the hero.  You can think of it as if your life is a book and you are the hero of the book.  The hero changes the world.  The hero helps others.  The hero lives an extraordinary life.

In order to live this type of larger-than-life myth, the hero is put through a series of tests that give him the wisdom he needs to continue on his path.  He learns the truths of the universe.

There is usually a refusal to go once he has been called on the adventure of life.  Typically, he is in a place of comfort and security and he knows by moving outside of his comfort zone, there will be the void of the unknown.  At least there is a nice little graphic that can help navigate the process.

The more we deny our purpose and ignore the call… the more we convince ourselves we want to live our lives according to our own plans, the more we suffer.  Suffering can come in the form of bad relationships, illness, a desire to numb out, or distractions of any kind.

When we practice surrendering, we can observe how much we are clinging to our own ideals.  We want to get closer to universal truth and further away from ego and mind-constructs.  A practice that helps with this is Yin and Restorative yoga.  The best pose I’ve found to notice how to surrender is Balasana, or Child’s Pose:  Come to all fours, lower hips to heels, forehead comes to floor, hands move beside body, palms face up.  As you breathe, notice the gripping within the muscles of the legs… the face… the shoulders.  Practice letting go.

Yoga Retreat Class Theme. Trina Hall. Treenuh Yoga. Dallas.

I feel blessed. This week, I take my Advanced Yoga Studies students on their graduation retreat to Playa del Carmen.
I’ve been meditating on what to teach and I’m thrilled to say we will be exploring several ideas:
Don’t Hold Back – Show Us Who You Are
Are You Fiercely Loving?
Inspire & Be Inspired – The Light Within
The Soundtrack to Your Mind

I can’t wait to share the space with you guys… This is going to be fun!!

Face Melt with Cheese. Trina Hall. Dallas.

After I re-apply my melted face from the show, I lay awake in my hammock listening to music through my headphones. I remember the moment my boyfriend introduced me to an intimate stereo sonic experience – I was hooked. The way a stereo sound evokes the imagination is like the difference between being friends and lovers. Then, my next boyfriend sat me down in his “listening chair” and through his super-duper-amazing Naim speakers, I saw an entire symphony in the space of sound. The waves came from the speakers and somehow each wave placed itself strategically as if the band was performing in his listening room. It was crazy.

I was never really into live music (except blues and jazz) until recently. The idea of listening to songs with a bunch of strangers wasn’t my idea of fun. It wasn’t so much a statement of the crowd or the performers but more of an acknowledgement of my anxiety in big crowds.

What I’ve come to realize is I’m less interested in a performance and more interested in witnessing creative process as it unfolds. The former is fun while the latter is spiritual.  The performance art outside the Kessler was both performance and creative process.  The performances inside the Kessler were both performance and creative process.  Ahh, the bliss!

My life is fun and spiritual. I aim to live both aspects to their fullest extent and Saturday night was an idealized version of that goal. I witnessed creative process through performance art in two venues – inside and outside The Kessler in Dallas. I won’t even go into the details but suffice it to say my heart was broken open and my face was melted off.

As I listen to my music tonight in bed, I am reminded of the power of connection. I’m grateful.

TEDxSMU. Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. Conscious Breathing. Yoga. Dallas. Nervous as Hell. Trina Hall. Treenuh Yoga,

Ever since I saw my first TED talk by Jill Bolte Taylor describing her experience during her stroke, I was enchanted with TED talks.

I, too, had a series of small strokes that left me with double vision and debilitating headaches. My left eye could no longer move and I had resigned myself to always rely on other people to take care of me – a huge feat for a person who craves solitude and independence. I was sad.  I was depressed.  I needed help taking myself to the bathroom.  My life looked so much different than what I had dreamed of as a little girl.

To cheer me up, I was given art supplies because I had said in passing, “I always wanted to be an artist.”  I never took lessons but I discovered how to play and tap into the rhythm of oil painting.  It was the biggest gift I had been given – relief from the pain, joy from expression, and a love of color that still charms me today.

The creative process is what healed me back to my version of normal (notice I didn’t say “normal” but “my version of normal” because I am definitely a little off-center)… but this time, I had a mission – to live a creative life and teach others how to heal themselves through creative process.

My mind seeks connection in its isolation so I seek to find ways of joining things together.  Yoga was the best medium I found for joining people to a deeper connection within and outside of themselves.  My teachers always talked about energy in class.  Though I understood its meaning in an abstract way, I couldn’t stop thinking about the E in Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.  I’ve re-imagined his theory to show how our lives and connection to source/spirit/universe can be enhanced through simple conscious breathing and movement as a meditation.  I found conscious breathing is the single most beneficial thing we can do to enhance brain function, spiritual connection and overall wellness.  So I need a platform to share this with more people.

I decided I wanted to give my own TED talk so I applied and was accepted to audition a 5 minute talk at TEDxSMU.  I learned so much about myself, my expectations, my hopes, my dreams and my desire to communicate effectively.  The stillness was palpable when the crowd was observing their senses.

This was an experience I will always treasure despite it being a horrible record of my public speaking skills. I couldn’t remember any of my jokes or any of the points I wanted to make. All in all, I sucked but at least I can say I did it.

Floaters. Yoga. Life. Vision. Texas Yoga. Dallas Yoga. Richardson Yoga. Trina Hall. Treenuh Yoga.

It was a glorious Spring day when I found myself laying down, looking at the clouds drift through expansive sky-space.  I noticed grey dots and wavy lines in between my eyes and my vision of the sky.  The more I tried to look into the lines, the further they moved away.  These are called “floaters”.

Interesting facts about these floaters:

– they cast shadows on the retina
– they are easier to see on a clear blue sky
– when we try to look directly at one, they move

Though we all develop floaters at some point, they become more prominent as we age, and none of our floaters look exactly alike.

I was thinking about how this related to my life and my vision of my life…

What are the floaters in my life?  What seems just beyond my grasp?  What is casting a shadow on my ability to see clearly?

This week, I will approach my life with more clarity as I set an intention to develop one-pointed vision and soften through the periphery.

My Soul is in the Sky. Trina Hall. Treenuh Yoga. Dallas.

soul is in the sky trina hall treenuh yoga

There is a man who pushes a cart around the neighborhood, collecting cans from recycle bins.  I’m assuming he is homeless.  He’s become as familiar as my next door neighbor with his routine stop in front of my house and we always wave, give the obligatory smile, and the neighborly exchange of conversational pleasantries.

At first, I felt pity for this man… how it must feel to not have a home… how he must be living in fear.  My ability to project my own fears of survival on this man led me to see there is no indication from him that he is afraid.  He actually seems quite happy as he delivers a nugget of wisdom in conversation, “You deserve the truth.”

Then I felt envious of his reality – time is simply measured by sunlight.  He need not wear a watch as he is free to do anything with his time.  The watch is my albatross.  Freedom exists in the mind and reality is what we make of it.

I aim to live more like this man – wandering with the sun as my guide, wondering with my shadow behind.

An Offering. Trina Hall. Dallas.

Perfume of coffee and taste of unshaven legs… the anticipation of art as a container for infinite expression.  How does a shadow dance?  Where do glances fall?  As she approached the tarmac, she wasn’t yet cleared for landing.  Baited in breath, the path became clear.  There is something rich in mistaken identity as the winter’s trees pretend to have no protection.  Just as in every theory, it has yet to be proven.

Her shade was taken away so the sun was in connection – more directly this time.  Who was it?  Where is that voice?

Belief – faith, even – is what resonates.  Recalling bleeding retinas, her grandfather hadn’t warned her about looking into the sun.  She assumed it was necessary to go into the light – to bathe in the rays of glorified nothingness.

To become who you truly are and imbibe power beyond form is what creates discernment.  Just as the clouds scraped the rays from her skin, she exhaled.  Guilt became an extension in the call directory of her thoughts; the number rarely dialed.  This unwavering disregard for punishment along the gallows resulted in a sensation between her shoulder blades.  What would she do with this new sense of freedom?

She put in place a policy of truth-seeking and truth-speaking that became the touchstone in her future conversations that always pierced into the essence of now.  Ultimately, she was her own beneficiary and time an imagined jaded lover. She became provocative… pro-active.  Gentle in her approach, the blending of creative energies was her offering.

Living Your Dreams. What is Your Purpose? Follow Your Bliss. Treenuh Yoga. Trina Hall.

It’s been quite some time since I posted a playlist.  Tuesday’s Open Flow class was special for me because I was thinking about how I’ve been inspired by beautiful art and performances recently.

I wanted to bring forward an exciting energy to help us get closer to our human desires and ultimate longing.  I posed the question, “What is your purpose?”  I’m interested in those dreams you fear are too big to be uttered… those things you pictured doing when you were a kid… the ideal life you know you are meant to lead.

I think it was 1999 and I was watching a rehearsal on the SNL set.  Lorne Michaels’ office is at the top of the seats and there were two kids hanging out there.  I introduced myself and learned that one was Lorne’s son and the other was Paul Simon’s.  They were on a baseball team together and Paul Simon’s kid said when he grows up, he wants to colonize the moon.  Really.  That was his dream.

Some of us know exactly what we are supposed to be doing with our lives and some of us aren’t even sure where to begin in writing life’s mission statement.

I’ve always known I wanted to be a teacher.  I’ve always known I wanted to be an artist.  I’ve always known my main goal is happiness. I was not, however, always true to that vision. I adhered to a standard of what was expected of me. I lived my life through the lens of another’s expectation. Then everything changed and I kept my focus on what I truly want, re-defining the means to get there along the way.  The path isn’t always clear but I do keep stepping, even when it seems like the next step my lead me off a cliff.  It’s ok, if I fall, I know how to use my wings to land safely again.

What makes you happy?  Joseph Campbell calls it “Follow Your Bliss” and how beautiful is that notion?  You possess the bliss already… you just have to follow the path.

The thing that unites us is love.  It is our highest calling.  Love is the best we can possibly be. It is a presence, an openness, a vulnerability, a doing… it is a way of being.  We can think about this pretty easily as we’ve all loved and been loved before.  But are we fully living up to love’s standard of equality and infinite capacity?  If I were to gather an accurate picture of how much I am fully, 100% loving, I am sad to say that far too often, fear and judgement make guest appearances in the sitcom of my mind.  We can make it a practice – practice love.  Practice acceptance.

We’ve all built up ways of protecting our hearts and hiding from our co-created destiny.  But it is time.  It is time for us to live!  It is time to live our lives inspired.  It is time to watch our dreams come true.

All. of. Us.
Sending you love.  🙂

The Things I Hear.

The story you are about to read is completely true. All names have been changed to protect those with a guilt-ridden grin turning up their rosy cheeks.

Bob: When was the last time you kissed someone?
Me: Someone tried to kiss me Thursday.
Bob: What do you mean someone tried? Do you not like kissing? Kissing is good.
Me: I love kissing – it just has to feel right.
Bob: Do you think you could ever be in love with me?
Me: There is no way I can know that after 10 minutes of knowing you.
Bob: Sure there is. Maybe yes or maybe no.
Me: I haven’t a clue.
Bob: Can I impregnate you?

Seriously.

Green Pond. Trina Hall. Yoga Dallas. Treenuh Yoga.

A week ago, I was out walking and came across this pond.  It seemed magical as I looked at it from the shore.  It is as if the pond wanted to insulate itself with this covering… a security blanket adding an aura of solidarity, protecting the fragile and sensitive nature of the water.

Algae is the most basic natural food source in a pond and helps balance the entire ecosystem.  If there was no algae, the food system would fall apart.

I think sometimes we feel that if we don’t have our blanket of security to distance us from true heart and spirit connection, we would fall apart.  The truth is, we want to appear strong as a survival instinct.  Beneath all the layers, we all just want to be loved.

Facebook: You Cannot Create a Relationship with Yourself. Trina Hall.

At some point, I woke up and wondered if I could take better care of myself.  I vowed to concentrate the efforts usually given to another toward care for me.  I am now in a relationship with myself.  I was quite happy about my private declaration but I thought I would make it public by announcing it through Facebook.  FB has this cute little option where you can declare cyber-love for another so I opted to choose myself as my own relationship status.  FB says I cannot create a relationship with myself.  Really?  I am in a deeply committed relationship with myself and FB doesn’t recognize it.  No fair.

One of the inherent gifts of a relationship with another is that you get to engage in a very present spiritual practice.  People trigger other people.  Other people bring up your insecurities, doubts, fears, attachments, and desire to be right.  There is duality.  There is a vacillating motion seeking balance.  There is a subject and an object.

Life with Daisy (my dog) is beautiful and peaceful.  We are constantly in a state of bliss.  She never triggers me but what she does do is keep me in a state of being open in my heart.  This is a practice I can’t do alone – I believe love is something you do.  There is a subject who is loving and an object that is being loved.

So perhaps FB is right, relationships require subject and object, too.  What I hope to experience in this life is a state of loving that doesn’t require subject nor object…  Non-Duality Lovin’.  Simply by contemplating non-duality, it is within a state of duality.  The rational mind cannot comprehend this state – reality must be pierced… it must be experienced.  🙂  The ultimate balance isn’t in the shift side to side but in the Creative state as conduit… straight up.

Forget Your Perfect Offering. Trina Hall. Dallas. Treenuh. Yoga

“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen

At the wishing well
casting coin.
Inhale with closed eyes
I Dream.
Seeing vivid hues
I exhale.

Vacillate in the contrast
white on white.
Black and white
Dark to light
Dive into grey.

Between fear and Faith
I hang.
The cross between vision and expectation
Hang me there.

Lift the veil
Tears mourning Hope
Keep the change.

Sacrifice the mind
Fall in the well
A technicolor parachute
turns to grey dreams.

Identity. Dallas Yoga. Dallas Yoga Private Lessons. Dallas Yoga Class. Trina Hall. Treenuh Yoga. Yoga Training Dallas. Teacher Training. Yoga Workshop

Identity… it is created… it is stolen… it defines us and it can bring us to our knees.

What do you identify with?  Emotions?  Thoughts?  Titles?  Labels?  We all struggle to find balance through external mechanisms. We try to balance by holding on to something that changes and fades.

Isn’t it worth noticing that when we identify with the temporary, we suffer?  In yoga, we aim to create union and learn to identify with that which does not change.  It is a remembering of who we really are… spirit.

Good Grief. Trina Hall. Dallas Yoga. Dallas Yoga Private Lessons. Dallas Yoga Class. Treenuh Yoga. Treenuh.com.

We’ve all lost someone we love… whether through death, divorce, or distance, grieving is something we all experience.  There’s even a model, outlining with gross accuracy, the seven stages of grief.

I was exposed to death when my hero, Grandpa, died 20 years ago.  He was my idea of what a man should be – strong, caring, kind, loving, funny – yet when he died, it was sudden and so easy.  I still feel him around me.

I witnessed death face to face when my cat of 14 years, Ebby, died in my arms.  It may sound morbid but I feel so grateful to have been there with her as she passed.  Watching her take her last breath and her spirit drifting off… I will never forget how that felt.

My grandma, Grace, died on Thursday.  Grace… a name so appropriate for this woman.  She and I spoke openly and clearly about her death for 10 years, discussing how she was ready to let go.  When I visited her the day before her passing, she was unresponsive.  As we gather around her bed, surrounding her with love, she came back to life.  Her speech was slow to develop but after about 10 minutes, she was talking to me as if nothing was wrong, “Trina, it is so good to be loved.”  “Yes, Grandma, it is good to be loved and it is good to love.  You can let go now.  We will all be fine.”

Letting go – what a beautiful experience.  Life is the final attachment we must relinquish and I believe it involves cutting the connection to our bodies, our loved ones, our minds and surrendering to space.
The space between the thoughts.
The source beyond knowing.
The being beyond being.

Feeling the parts of me Grandma directly impacted and pieces of my character Grandpa is directly responsible for make me think of the sum of a human life.  We are the result of all our experiences and we hold pieces of loved one within ourselves.  Looking back at the people who have loved me and those who I have loved, I am deeply grateful.

Yes, we all experience loss…  What we do with it is what matters.  Are we going to stay in the darkness of sadness, regret, and shame or are we going to move to light?  I’ve lost loved ones from death, divorce, and distance.  I am still in the grieving process for many of these lost loves.  The process of grief is the same and we end in acceptance.  My prayer is that I accept and surrender with gratitude and faith.

I just received a text message from one of my dearest chosen family members: “I bet your grandma is enjoying the view of the fireworks from the clouds.”  Yes, I bet she is.

(The photo on this post is a painting I did when I found out a friend of mine lost his mother.  This is my expression of the way it feels when you lose someone you love.)

I Am That. Trina Hall. Dallas Yoga. Dallas Yoga Private Lessons. Dallas Yoga Class. Treenuh.com.

Sitting on the balcony, chimes infuse my thoughts.  The breeze is moist with Spring teasing us.  Tapping on leaves, the rain is longing to be grounded.  The rain knows it will change and accepts its fate.  Do you suppose it ever wonders what the tree must feel like to be so deeply rooted to her mother?

Dancing in the rain… is there a greater goal in life?  Freedom calls, at first, as a whisper then in a glorious thunder, erupts to a flow of love.

I want to be a sound… the creation of two objects expressing their connection.  The vibration riding through space and gracing human ears as temporary as a first love, yet pulsing to infinity – to the heart of the universe.

Beyond the expression lies the desire to be.  Then we desire to become one.  Beyond the form lives the soundless.

I am that.

Standing in My Shadow

My Shadow at PuakoStanding in my own shadow, reflected from the moon’s light on Eve’s eve of the full moon, I discovered I stand in my fear.  Before this point of solid reflection along the path I walked tonight, I felt the importance of foundation.  My lover took my hand as I reluctantly tread across lava graced by the presence of algae, making each step – hand-in-hand – something I questioned.  Was this the right step to take?  Am I going about this the right way?  Is the lighting deceiving me?  Fear after fear poured through my never-ending well of guessing to the second degree.  I voiced my opinions and desire to be on solid ground – I spoke my truth.  Then, in an instant we arrived to his destination and I stood in awe of the experience… standing on hardened lava, the waves rushed in and broke just beyond our vantage point.  Fear had enveloped me along this path, like sand around my toes, I wanted to sift through the truth of it all.  If water represents emotions, I learned that once I conquer the fear, another emotion will come to shore with a desire to be experienced.  It is all the same as long as I don’t assign a label to the experience.  I want to live more in the flow and watch how things come and go – they will and I have a choice.