Style: Hatha & Meditation
Teacher: Jamine Ackert
Studio: Rama Lotus

Warning: Meditation Can Impair Driving. I'm on the highway and I can't keep my eyes open. My destination is Montreal and it's almost midnight. My eyelids weigh a thousand pounds each and the white stripes on the concrete are lulling me into a trance. I'm fighting to stay awake.

A few hours earlier, looking through the Rama Lotus schedule to find a class I could fit in before hitting the road, I saw something new - Hatha & Meditation. Interesting. With a two birds and one stone approach I could get yoga and meditation out of the way in a single stroke. Convenient. The class was divided between Hatha poses, pranayama breath work and a 30 minute meditation. Although Jamine's resonating sense of humour established a super-casual, laid back atmosphere, I admit to feeling moderate terror at the mention of a half-hour pilgrimage through the carnival funhouse of Self. Fifteen minutes is enough of a wrestling match as it is. Closing my eyes and accepting my fate, I center myself in the present and quiet my internal monologue. Time unfolds and evaporates and I feel the same general lack of mental control interspersed with moments of quiet refuge, my attention fluctuating somewhere between incoherence and epiphany. As it happens, thirty minutes wasn't altogether harder than fifteen. After a certain point time ceases to have any influence and everything just is what it is.

Walking out of the studio I felt like I'd been tranquilized. By the time I pulled onto the highway to start my journey I was a drooling zombie behind the steering wheel. I was so utterly relaxed and the fatigue was becoming unbearable. The street crawled out in front of me, weaving its way across the moonlit countryside. The purr of the engine beckoned my consciousness to follow it into an abstract paradise, to leave my body behind and merge with a deafening silence. Eventually I lost my grip on perception and dozed-off traveling 105 kilometres an hour through the crisp night air. Understanding the nature of my peril, I gave myself the Zen face-slap and tried to regain some composure before I veered off the highway into the black forest. Getting off at the next exit I pulled up to the nearest drive-through and disobeyed my prohibition of caffeine. When I saw the signs marking my arrival and the skyscrapers rising on the horizon I thanked everything non-physical for surviving the near-death experience. Soon I'm comfortable and alive at my girlfriends apartment, burrowed in a quiet evening jotting down fragments of thought in a journal as they wander through my imagination. As the city sleeps I let its dreams pass through me and I remain the unbiased observer while the hours fall off the clock like autumn leaves.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Shantidas
Studio: Sivananda Vedanta Montreal

I miss Ashram life. Hanging around on this cold, dreary gray day in Montreal, I lazily contemplated where I should do my practice. In the middle of the decision making, I felt my mind drift off into a daydream, imagining my time spent at the Sivananda Ashram. Life was so simple, so peaceful. I wish I was back there. It was then I remembered that the original Sivananda yoga center was first created in Montreal. In 1959, under the instruction of Swami Sivananda, Swami Vishnu-devananda traveled to North America to spread the word of yoga. It was decided that the population in the west was finally ready for the teachings. Vishnu-devananda eventually settled in Montreal and opened the center on St. Laurent street. After a while, he noticed that the Montrealers frequently traveled to the Laurentians for vacation, and soon after he ventured out into the mountains himself. It was there he created the first Sivananda Ashram, the very place I spent the weekend a month ago. Since then, Sivananda has gone international, with Ashrams and yoga centers all over the world. The very first center still stands as it did way back in 1959, and today I decided to check it out.

Walking in through through the front the door, I'm immediately hit in the heart chakra by a warm nostalgia. The same fragrances of incense linger in the air, the same photos of the two founding Swamis hang on the walls. I even ran into a Chilean yogi I met there who was calling the Ashram home at the time. The class began with the various breathing techniques and I felt that familiar peace of mind penetrating my being. Moving into the postures, listening to the instruction, I became aware of the historic significance of the place. This was where it all began. From here, Vishnu-devananda traveled the globe, spreading the teachings of yoga, embarking on a life-altering adventure that would not only change his life, but the entire world as well.

After the timeless experience I've come to the decision that, as soon as the snow finally melts and the Sun starts to warm up the planet, I'm going back to the Ashram. I can't wait.

Style: Hatha Intermediate
Teacher: Roxanne Joly
Studio: Upward Dog

I'm in the mood for something new. For a while now I've had my eye on Upward Dog, a Yoga centre in the heart of the market, and today after work I decided to try it out. It's a beautiful place, with at least three separate studios. The one I was in had tall ceilings and cork floors, with an inviting, calming ambiance. Our instructor tonight also happens to be the founder and director of the centre, leading the class through a challenging and specific sequence, floating through the room expertly applying posture modifications. I'm finding it easier to hold my gaze, or drishti. Even with the interfering calamity of renegade thoughts, my eyes are starting to respond to my control, remaining relaxed but firm, unflinchingly fixed on a set target. It seems like a simple task, focusing your line of sight and holding it there. Try it. It's always been a battle for me. With every interfering thought I would notice my gaze drift slightly, trailing off-course, unable to maintain its position. After a blink or two, thousands of thoughts have snap crackle and popped through my mind's eye, scattering my concentration. Before I know it I'm holding my breath and fighting myself, making the poses harder then they need to be. Nothings perfect, but today I notice that it is getting easier. Little by little, change truly is occurring.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Shambhu
Studio: Sivananda Ashram

Out into a morning bathed in darkness, we began our silent walk. Every day at the Ashram begins with Satsang - meditation, chanting and philosophic discussion. Today is different. Today we move in silence, out into the woods. Walking the long winding country roads, the world still asleep, there was no sound in the air aside from the crunching of snow beneath the different sets of shoes. I could feel the cold creeping in all around me, but remained safe and snug under warm layers of fabric. The trees were black shadows, peering out at us, wondering who these strange quiet creatures were. Entering a clearing, we all stopped and stood silently as the sun rose. It was invisible in the grey winter skies, but made its presence known as light began to slowly wash over the wilderness. Turning around, we began the long walk back to the Ashram. As the world around me slowly came alive, the dark trees regained their rich, forest-green tones. Sleepy birds began to chirp and the pure white was returned to the blanketed snow, wisps of icing-sugar flakes drifting lazily through the winter air. Placing one foot in front of the other out here in the wild has got me thinking of a pristine planet, pre human footprint. My mind wanders further, wondering if this truly is our original home. Sometimes, looking up at the stars, I can't help but feel like we're from someplace else. Why do I get this feeling that the town of my birth is actually somewhere out there, light-years away, deep in the vast expanse of outer space, far beyond the reach of human imagination?

Back on the road, Sivananda is disappearing behind me, dissolving into past experience. My intention was to stretch out in the passenger seat on the ride home, reflecting on the weekend and writing about it. As it happens, I'm at a loss for words. I can only stare out at the passing horizon, quietly observing the outside world in motion. Most of what has transpired has yet to fully sink in. Closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair, I feel sleep start to lurk around me. I let go and fade out of 3D physical existence into something beyond, something I never return with any memory of.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Sivdas Chaitanya
Studio: Sivananda Ashram

My mind and body betray me. Gently waking up to the distant reverberating of a bell, my eyes slowly regain their focus and I remember where I am. Transitioning from sleep to waking life with no alarm clock is a welcomed luxury. Showering and dressing into warm clothes, Meredith and I make our way out into the dark morning, back to the Krishna temple.

Last night was my first experience of Satsang. As we entered the temple we were greeted by exotic aromas straying from burning incense. The temple looked exactly how I might imagine it: carefully decorated altars, statues of deities and gods, and pictures on the walls of the founding Guru's, Swami Sivananda and Swami Vishnu-Devananda. Places were set out on the floor, consisting of a small rug, a pillow and a book with the title "Kirtan: Mantras and Chants". I notice a woman in an orange robe bowing down, forehead to the floor, angled toward the main altar with a life size flute-playing statue of Krishna, and I do the same. When in Rome... After everyone silently took their places we entered into meditation. Sitting with my legs crossed, I closed my eyes. The instructions were to focus on the space between the eyebrows, the inhaling and exhaling of the breath, as well as inwardly repeating a mantra. If we didn't have a personal mantra, we could focus on the sound and vibration of Om.

As time began to bleed with infinity my mind was slowly growing restless. Focusing on my breathing and silently Om-ing, I continued to calmly and kindly reset my focus. Again and again my mind would burst into theatrics and one-way conversation, struggling against my attempts to control it. After endless back and fourth, my inner world slowly started chilling out. The success, however, was very short lived. A subtly increasing numb pain had slowly been building in my crossed-legs, completely unaccustomed to the position. Now as the battle was increasing in magnitude I slowly started to lose my grip and my mind used the window of opportunity to blurt out an opinionated rant about everything and nothing. It's astonishing and perplexing that the majority of modern mankind has little to no control over their own thoughts. I'm subtly fidgeting as my attention wavers uncontrollably and I struggle to keep my lower back from collapsing and curling over into an exaggerated slouch. I experience desperate relief as we're given our cues to return to earth. Painfully unwinding my legs and crossing them the opposite way, we opened our book of sanskrit writings and proceeded into the chanting segment. This is another first for me, and I found myself fending off a self-conscious stage fright. Closing my eyes and humming along with the melodies, I drifted away with the hypnotic music emanating from the harmonium, pakawaj drums and karatal hand cymbals. Everything about this place is other-worldy.

Outside the temple doors early this morning, we pick up where we left off last night, diving back into a meditation. Now my legs and hips are burning and my mind concocts hellish visualizations of being shocked to death strapped to the electric chair. I feel a cold sweat on the back of my neck and a panic rising up my spine. I'm about to lose control and possibly burst into tears or uncontrollable psychotic laughter. I feel like I'm bordering on schizophrenia. Breathing in as deeply as I can, I blast out a silent ear-shattering internal Om, drowning out my inner chaos. It's scary. It's scary, but with some dedicated practice the chance to rise above the chatter exists. Still, it is pretty unnerving how intensely my mind and body rebel a few short moments after I request stillness. It's as if they fear for their own well-being, terrified of their own demise. To keep any change from occurring they're willing to lash out, setting me on fire.

Later in the yoga studio I feel relieved to be back in my comfort zone. At this point, even with its inherent struggle, yoga is safe and familiar territory. I twist, bend, and stand on my head, distancing myself from this morning's internal altercation. Yoga is mysterious, but pure meditation is far more unknown for me. It's a strange, undiscovered world full of bizarre landscapes and lifeforms.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Jananadev
Studio: Sivananda Ashram

I could get used to Ashram life. After spending all afternoon reading, hanging out in the library and napping, I eventually make my way to the second yoga class of the day. I take back comments about Hatha being boring and plain. They call this yoga classic Hatha, and it's anything but boring. It's a rigorous sequence containing a four-minute headstand and rivalling the exertion of any Ashtanga or Power class. I'm only back in my room for half an hour before the evening Satsang, and I'm feeling anxious. I'm not really looking forward to sitting cross-legged and making the pilgrimage into the darkness of my inner world. Overall though, that's a lie. I am looking forward to it. It's a new adventure, and an intuitive Jiminy Cricket is perched on my shoulder, whispering in my ear just how unbelievably important and beneficial this process truly is.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Pierre
Studio: Sivananda Ashram

A place of refuge. On the road to Montreal by 8 am, I'm feeling a host of butterflies migrating with me, keeping up with my car on the highway. I'm not sure whats causing this nervous energy, but it's probably tied in with a fear of the unknown. What am I walking into? A full-fledged cult waiting for their next human sacrifice to arrive for a 3 pm check-in? Luckily I won't be alone. Meredith, my girlfriend, will be with me to share the experience. Arriving in Montreal, I pull up in front of her apartment. I still can't believe I'm doing this.

After an amazing breakfast at a near-by diner in the Plateau, we're back on the road, on our way to the Laurentians. As time drifts into the past, the city recedes and melts away, making way for the rolling hills of the Quebecois countryside. Having some company on this journey is already filling me with relief. About an hour later we're approaching the Ashram and the butterflies are back. Stepping out of my car and looking around, I'm instantly drawn in by the beauty of this place. Stone statues half hidden under fresh white snow stare back at the two newly arrived strangers. After checking in at the reception area, we are told that a yoga class begins in a half hour. After walking down a few hallways, we find our living quarters for the weekend. It's a small room with two single beds, a closet and a window looking out at the frosty wilderness. It also has a washroom with a shower. It's more comfortable then I'd anticipated. Stretching out on my bed and staring at the ceiling, I have a strange feeling, almost like I'm expecting to be here for longer then three days. Moments later I'm drawn back out of my daydream by the sound of a bell ringing in the distance, signalling that the yoga class was about to begin. Changing and grabbing our mats, Meredith and I lock up our room and head to the studio.

Okay. The people here seem fairly normal. The class features a wide age-range, a mix of people who are arriving for the weekend, some who are about leave, and a few who are living at the Ashram. Our teacher started the two hour Hatha series off with thirty minutes of pranayama breathing excercies, including alternate nostril breathing, which was a first. Afterwards we made our way to the dining area where we found a delicious vegetarian meal waiting for us. The food was unbelievable. Eating all we could, once again we're back in our room. As Meredith quietly dozes off, I open my journal and press my pen into the paper, gathering my thoughts. I'm feeling right at home. All my preconceived notions are falling away, leaving me with a clean slate, ready to learn. Soon another bell will sound off and we'll make our way to the Krishna temple for Satsang, the heart of life at the Ashram. I don't know what to expect, but I feel ready.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Julie Salter
Studio: Adishesha

I'm going to live at an Ashram. No, really. Only for the weekend though. A few months ago I bumped into some friends early on New Years Eve, telling me they were on route to an Ashram near Montreal. There would be chanting and meditation, yoga and contemplation. The idea of an Ashram reminded me of a secluded hut somewhere remote in India where you could go and learn ancient secrets from a wise Guru. Never imagining there could be one so close, I filed that information away in the back my mind for future use. Yesterday I decided to do some research. After giving the website a quick scan I spotted the phone number. Asking for some information, before I knew it I'd booked a room for two nights this weekend.

Today was a beautiful, warm winter day with a hint of spring in the air. I decided to head over to Adishesha, the cozy one-room studio in the Glebe. I'd been here a few weeks ago after hearing high praise for the owner, Basia. When I got there I was informed that she was in Costa Rica. Today I find out that she has in fact left for Costa Rica once more, having departed only this morning. Standing in today was a woman named Julia, leading the way through a satisfying Hatha sequence. It was conducted in a more open-ended fashion, taking requests and narrating the class with a lovely British accent, reminding us to keep a "noble posture". There's something really nice about this studio, not to mention it's a five minute walk from my house when the canal is frozen.

The Ashram I'll be staying at is called Sivananda. It's located an hour from Montreal, tucked away in the scenic Laurentian Mountains. There are close to eighty Sivananda locations around the world, and the organization has trained more than 10,000 yoga teachers. I'm not really sure what I've gotten myself into. Looking at the daily schedule, I notice wake up is at 5:30 am. I'm beginning to understand that this might not exactly be a leisurely weekend getaway. By 6 it's meditation, chanting, and discussion on the philosophy and psychology of yoga. After that it's a full yoga session. And all of this before breakfast! All meals are vegetarian, served twice daily. While not quite a herbivore myself, I am a huge fan of vegetarian cuisine. I'm really just a fan of food in general. Reading on, I notice they are quite adamant, explaining that no meat, fish, eggs, garlic, onions, narcotics, alcohol or smoking are allowed at the Ashram. No cell phones are allowed. Silence must be maintained from 10pm to 8am daily. Oh, and please dress modestly. I'm not sure what to expect. Is this going to be a weekend at the convent with a bunch of yogi-nuns? One way or another, it'll be an experience, and I will pass through it with an open mind.

The total ban on technology does present a bit of a challenge blogging-wise, but the solution is simple. During the three days at the Ashram I'll log the experience in my journal, the old fashioned way. Upon return Sunday night, I'll transcribe the entries and post them chronologically. Crisis Averted.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Tania Fréchette
Studio: Santosha Elgin

I can finally stand on my head. Rushing to a Sunday morning Yin, I arrived fifteen minutes too late. Wandering a few doors down, I began my day in a cafe, killing some time. The next class is Hatha. Whether I'm biased or misguided, Hatha is usually synonymous with boring. Thinking about it now, I'm not sure what has given me that impression. Maybe it's because every style seems to come from some form of Hatha, and I guess it strikes me as "plain" yoga.

I enjoyed Tania's style of teaching at her Power class earlier in the week, so I figured it couldn't be too bad. Compared to yesterdays full-house, today the room is essentially empty; just me, the teacher and two other students. She informed us that week-by-week she has been structuring her classes around the different Chakras. Today would focus on the third Chakra, located at the solar plexus. This Chakra is associated with power, self-esteem and vitality. It's known as our personal power centre, the magnetic core of the personality and ego. The class was engaging, focusing heavily on inversions. Apparently the third Chakra is basically a fireball, a furnace burning inside you. The problem is, negative energy gets trapped in the lower Chakras. Doing different inversions flips that heat upside-down and burns it all away. Today I managed to permanently hold myself in the headstand position.

Walking home in the beautiful early afternoon with that unmistakable after-yoga serenity, I could never have predicted what was about to happen next. Not long after settling in back at home, a storm begins to build. With the skies outside still blue, dark clouds roll over the hillsides of my mind, thunder-claps growling in the distance. Pacing back and forth, a boiling geyser erupts inside me and I'm overcome with rage and anger. Adrenaline pumping through my system, a current of frustration swallows me into my thoughts. I'm furious with the entire human race. Why is history nothing but a long treacherous tyrannical genocide? A string of murderers, enslaving and oppressing. An endless story of betrayal and tragedy. It's been a god-damned massacre of freedom and creativity. No one pays attention. The youth watch "reality" television then reenact that same hate in their own daily lives. People are blind sheep staring at their feet and walking over the edge. A human lifetime is eighty-five years, give or take? That's only a heartbeat, a blink of an eye. Can I blame anyone for their ignorance, closing their eyes and trading their lives for the illusion of security, building houses around their families, standing in line, doing what they're told, then dying. No one has time to pay attention.

Molten lava continues to well up from within. Now, everyone I've ever known in my life is in my mind, along with everything I've ever hated about every one of them. I feel nothing but fire and brimstone. I want to fix people. I want to destroy people. I want to fight, disobey, break things, to cause panic and disorder. I want to leave a trail of corpses and caskets in my wake. I want to be a Tyrant myself. I feel raw hate for the cowardice of mankind. I'm disgusted by the human race, and embarrassed to be a part of it. I see Armageddon coming and I know we deserve it.

As the storm passes I'm left numb and silent. I'm shocked at my own intensity, taken aback by my own aggression and violence. It only clicks now - I really did stoke the fire in my Solar Chakra. I laugh to myself, wondering if this is even healthy. Judging by the release and relaxation that is descending on me, the quietude of mind and the absence of tension, this must be part of the process. I'm in the inferno still unscathed. It isn't easy but it's necessary, and I really wonder who I'll be when the dust finally settles.

... does the dust ever settle?

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Kim Zombik
Studio: Bliss

Champagne Yoga. Have you ever tried? The style isn't very complicated to learn. All you have to do is wake up in another city in a comfortable bed. Greet the Sun and Sky and Infinity and Beyond. Stretch. Prepare one chocolate croissant, chill one bottle of champagne. Return to bed, into a comfortable position. Synchronizing movements, alternate between pastry and bubbly. Focus on your breathing.

Venturing out into the night hours later amid cascading snowflakes, I'm making my way to Studio Bliss for the first time. Stepping out of the cold and climbing a long staircase I find myself in a quaint, rustic candle-lit room with light music drifting through the air. A perfect introduction to Montreal.

Style: Hatha
Teacher: Janice Tokaryk
Studio: Adishesha

And for those of you wondering, no, I don't actually live at Rama Lotus. Although, other then one evening in my living room, I can see how one might jump to that conclusion. Even during last years challenge, I did maybe 95% of my classes exclusively at Rama Lotus. Honestly, I've never even been to another studio here in Ottawa. A few times during the last challenge I found myself in Toronto and Montreal, and I had a lot of fun searching out and experimenting with different studios. In Ottawa, though, it's a much bigger challenge. Rama Lotus is just so nice! Consisting of 4 separate studios with construction almost finished on their gorgeous new Sun room, it stands as the most impressive studio I've been to yet. The teachers and staff also make practicing there so much fun. I've gotten to know everyone and they've created the most amazing family atmosphere, serving hot tea after morning classes. Did I mention I love Rama Lotus?

In keeping with the spirit of adventure and exploration, another aspect of this challenge was that I intended to visit many different studios. Its taken a while to reluctantly tear myself away from my home base, but on this sunny Saturday morning, I decided to venture out into the unknown. The first new studio I decided to try is Adishesha, located on 4th ave in the Glebe. It was recommended to me by Mark Laham, one of my usual instructors, and he said that the owner of the studio, a woman named Basia, had taught him more then anyone about yoga. That's a large compliment coming from him, so I decided to check it out. Arriving this morning, it turns out coincidentally that Basia is on vacation in Costa Rica. However Janice, our substitute teacher, was excellent.

I've only ever been to a handful of Hatha yoga classes, and this will be the first of the next ninety. From what I understand, every single style of yoga that we practice in North America that involves asanas, or physical postures - be it Bikram, Astanga, Power or Yin - has its roots in Hatha. It's an excellent starting point for anyone new to yoga, as it covers all bases to a certain degree. Hatha yoga attempts to balance mind and body through physical postures and exercises, controlled breathing, and the calming of the mind through relaxation and meditation. Asanas teach poise, balance and strength practiced to improve the body's physical health and clear the mind in preparation for meditation in the pursuit of enlightenment. Or something like that.

It is always a strange experience going somewhere new. New paintings on the walls, new layout, new people, new instructors, new everything. On top of that, Adishesha seems to be the polar opposite of Rama Lotus. Where Rama Lotus has a large lobby, at least 3 separate change rooms and many classes occurring simultaneously in different rooms, Adishesha is much smaller. Walking in the front door, I was a bit shocked to realize I actually stepped from outside directly into the yoga room. The entire place is essentially one open space, with the cash register literally in the same room that you unroll your mat. Very different. After changing and finding myself a spot, the class began. It was a lovely experience, with the early afternoon sun washing in through the large windows and across the twisting, stretching yogis. Afterwards, coming out of final Savasana, I squintingly looked around, wondering just where exactly I was. The experience of waking up in an unknown place with unknown people is always surreal, sort of like regaining consciousness after a long night of drinking with no memory of how the night before ended or how you found yourself here in your current location. A little bit bizarre but a little bit exciting at the same time.