Starting January 1st, 2009 there are a few changes and additions to the current schedule at the Tai Chi Center.
First,unfortunately, due to lack of attendance, the Wednesday 12:30-1:30 class will no longer run. There may be a chance to re-establish this class in the future if there is enough interest.
On the flipside, I'm happy to announce that I will now be offering private lessons. The current sheduled time available for privates is 4:30 p.m. on Tuesdays, right before the Tuesday night class. Other times may be available as well. This is a wonderful opportunity to work on something specific that we may not get to in class, or if you are working with an injury and need modifications to help you in class. It is also a great chance to learn how to deepen your practice.
In addition, I'm offering a new style of privates called YOGASSAGE. What's that you ask? It's a combination of passive yoga stretching (meaning you lay there, I gently stretch you), gentle accupressure, a little Reiki, a little traditional massage, a little meditation, and a whole lot of tension release. It's very similar to Thai Yoga Massage, but with added stuff (Tracy style). Sessions are done on the padded floor, you stay fully clothed, and they last about an hour. It's very peaceful and soothing.The fee for all private sessions are $85 a session and usually run about an hour to an hour and 15 minutes. If you would like to schedule a private lesson of any sort please contact me either in person, email or phone.
December 29, 2008
November 10, 2008
Holiday Schedule
The following classes will be cancelled due to the holidays. Take advantage of the classes that are still running! Anyone is welcome at any class and will be challenged appropriately.
I hope to see a lot of you during this busy time!
Cancelled Classes:
Wednesday November 26th 12:30-1:30 only
(the evening class WILL run)
Wednesday December 24th 12:30-1:30 and 6:00-7:30
Wednesday December 31st 12:30-1:30 and 6:00-7:30
I hope to see a lot of you during this busy time!
Cancelled Classes:
Wednesday November 26th 12:30-1:30 only
(the evening class WILL run)
Wednesday December 24th 12:30-1:30 and 6:00-7:30
Wednesday December 31st 12:30-1:30 and 6:00-7:30
'Tis the Season
Once again the busy holiday season approaches and our normal routine is thrown out the window. It is challenging during this time to remember to include the things that make us feel and function our best, like sleep, yoga, proper nutrition and exercise. I invite you to deepen your awareness this year of the things that allow you to fully experience the joys of the holidays without the stresses they often include. As the season brings colder weather it is a great time to deepen or begin a meditation practice. Just a few minutes a day can make a difference. A home yoga practice can also help offset the mood changes that come with changing weather and changing schedules. And of course, the more yoga classes you can attend the more likely you'll stay grounded and focused, as well as open to the joy. This can truly be a special time if we enter into it with a connection to our bodies, minds and spirits. No matter what you celebrate, may it bring you a multitude of love, light and laughter. Namaste, Tracy
September 17, 2008
My Life in Yoga by Molly Moynahan
In 1977 I was studying History and English in Dublin, attending Trinity College as a one-year American student. After being cast in a production where I played Sylvia Plath with two other women, one of whom would remain my friend for many years to follow, I saw a sign advertising a yoga class in one of the common rooms costing, I believe 50p. My Irish actress friend and I decided we would attend but first we would visit our favorite Pub and run some lines, drink hot sherry, smoke some cigarettes and eat some crisps (potato chips). Thus fortified we tumbled into a dim room where a candle was lit, something mystical was spinning on a record player and several people were in corpse pose. This we could do. Later we managed a few other poses except my friend attempted a standing backbend and landed on her head. Our teacher, a no-nonsense German, stood over my friend and suggested we not drink before yoga class. Afterwards, she reassured us, was fine. We were hooked.
Later that year I would wind a scarf around my head and attempt to levitate in what was billed a “Man-powered flight contest”. I ended up on the front cover of the Irish Times, my bottom securely anchored to the ground in a passable lotus. My bank manager, even the destitute in Ireland had bank managers, laminated the newspaper clipping and hung it in his window. I was a celebrity.
Thus it started, my lovely relationship with yoga. It has lasted through three husbands, countless jobs, many geographical alterations, moments of incredible joy and personal tragedies. When a drunk driver killed my sister in 1984 I didn’t eat for a long time. One day a friend persuaded me to attend a yoga class and when we were finished I discovered I was still breathing. I traveled to a Buddhist monastery in the Catskills for a weekend workshop and ended up moving in part-time for nearly two years. The Renzai Zen tradition was a harsh discipline. We sat Zazen for many hours in the Zendo and frequently rose at 4am to chant and sit and do work practice. But we also practiced yoga. It was Iyengar with references to skin sliding down bones and props to open and strengthen your body. My teacher sent me to see a famous Iyengar instructor in Manhattan who told me I had fat feet and implied I would be on his list of sexy students if I could drop more weight. “I love my fat feet,” I said, having recently returned from the near dead. I walked away and never returned. For me yoga meant acceptance, it meant non-judgment, it meant I was breathing and above all, safe.
In 1993 I was living in London, hugely pregnant and blissfully happy. The birth practice I was in specialized in water births and yoga practice for its mothers. It did not believe in Caesarians or pain medicine unless absolutely necessary. We did yoga twice a week, countless kegels, squats and various other things to build our strength and flexibility. I was in hard labor for 72 hours. My son, who had been turned in my stomach from a breech position, ended up in a bad place for a speedy birth, his back against my spine. Days passed in a blur of boredom, fear and anticipation; finally he was born with me standing up after a long epidural inspired nap. I was able to take a walk that evening, no tearing, not a single physical scar except the usual pregnancy related body issues. (Oh my God! Is that my body?) When the doctor asked me how I managed to last so long and recover so fast I said, “Yoga.”
We moved to Dallas from London and Texas was not a positive fit. I worked out hard with a trainer who listened to me complain about the shopping malls, driving everywhere, football and big hair. I was restless, lonely and discontent. I avoided Yoga like the plague afraid of confronting my own personal demons in a practice that forced me to see things as they were.
When we moved to Chicago my marriage was on thin ice, I had not published anything in ages and, just like Dallas, I knew no one. Within a year I was separated from my son’s father and facing my forties as a divorced mother who had two novels published, taught at several schools as an adjunct, and who felt like a huge failure. My son attended a child’s camp where there were yoga classes and I found myself back in a dimly lit room trying to quiet the voices in my head.
From that point, I stayed. Tracy taught so perfectly in her imperfection, her support, and her challenging sometimes really hard, sweaty classes. She had a sense of humor but she was dead serious. I went to yoga in the heat, the rain, the snow, after 9/11, after another break-up, when my novel was purchased for lots of money, and when the same publisher rejected the two that followed. I got divorced finally, remarried, my son became a teenager and did terrible things, my father became horribly depressed and twice a week (when possible) I picked up my mat and went to yoga. I remain a beginner in this sanctuary, I remain flawed and in need of adjustment. I remain humble and grateful for the flexibility and soft discipline of my teacher and yoga.
Later that year I would wind a scarf around my head and attempt to levitate in what was billed a “Man-powered flight contest”. I ended up on the front cover of the Irish Times, my bottom securely anchored to the ground in a passable lotus. My bank manager, even the destitute in Ireland had bank managers, laminated the newspaper clipping and hung it in his window. I was a celebrity.
Thus it started, my lovely relationship with yoga. It has lasted through three husbands, countless jobs, many geographical alterations, moments of incredible joy and personal tragedies. When a drunk driver killed my sister in 1984 I didn’t eat for a long time. One day a friend persuaded me to attend a yoga class and when we were finished I discovered I was still breathing. I traveled to a Buddhist monastery in the Catskills for a weekend workshop and ended up moving in part-time for nearly two years. The Renzai Zen tradition was a harsh discipline. We sat Zazen for many hours in the Zendo and frequently rose at 4am to chant and sit and do work practice. But we also practiced yoga. It was Iyengar with references to skin sliding down bones and props to open and strengthen your body. My teacher sent me to see a famous Iyengar instructor in Manhattan who told me I had fat feet and implied I would be on his list of sexy students if I could drop more weight. “I love my fat feet,” I said, having recently returned from the near dead. I walked away and never returned. For me yoga meant acceptance, it meant non-judgment, it meant I was breathing and above all, safe.
In 1993 I was living in London, hugely pregnant and blissfully happy. The birth practice I was in specialized in water births and yoga practice for its mothers. It did not believe in Caesarians or pain medicine unless absolutely necessary. We did yoga twice a week, countless kegels, squats and various other things to build our strength and flexibility. I was in hard labor for 72 hours. My son, who had been turned in my stomach from a breech position, ended up in a bad place for a speedy birth, his back against my spine. Days passed in a blur of boredom, fear and anticipation; finally he was born with me standing up after a long epidural inspired nap. I was able to take a walk that evening, no tearing, not a single physical scar except the usual pregnancy related body issues. (Oh my God! Is that my body?) When the doctor asked me how I managed to last so long and recover so fast I said, “Yoga.”
We moved to Dallas from London and Texas was not a positive fit. I worked out hard with a trainer who listened to me complain about the shopping malls, driving everywhere, football and big hair. I was restless, lonely and discontent. I avoided Yoga like the plague afraid of confronting my own personal demons in a practice that forced me to see things as they were.
When we moved to Chicago my marriage was on thin ice, I had not published anything in ages and, just like Dallas, I knew no one. Within a year I was separated from my son’s father and facing my forties as a divorced mother who had two novels published, taught at several schools as an adjunct, and who felt like a huge failure. My son attended a child’s camp where there were yoga classes and I found myself back in a dimly lit room trying to quiet the voices in my head.
From that point, I stayed. Tracy taught so perfectly in her imperfection, her support, and her challenging sometimes really hard, sweaty classes. She had a sense of humor but she was dead serious. I went to yoga in the heat, the rain, the snow, after 9/11, after another break-up, when my novel was purchased for lots of money, and when the same publisher rejected the two that followed. I got divorced finally, remarried, my son became a teenager and did terrible things, my father became horribly depressed and twice a week (when possible) I picked up my mat and went to yoga. I remain a beginner in this sanctuary, I remain flawed and in need of adjustment. I remain humble and grateful for the flexibility and soft discipline of my teacher and yoga.
August 06, 2008
The Day That Counts
YESTERDAY: There are two days in every week that should be kept free from fear and worry. One of these days is yesterday; it has passed forever beyond our control. We cannot undo a single act we performed or erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone beyond recall.
TOMORROW: The other day we should not worry about is tomorrow, with its possible problems or promise. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow will come, but until it does we have no stake in tomorrow; it is not yet a reality.
TODAY: That leaves only one day- Today! Anyone can fight the battles of just one day. It is only when we add the burden of those two awful eternities-yesterday and tomorrow-that we can break down. It is not the experience of today that causes the most anxiety. It is the remorse or bitterness for something which happened yesterday, or the dread of what tomorrow may bring. Thus only one day in the week requires our very best attention and action---the TODAY we live one day at a time.
Anonymous
TOMORROW: The other day we should not worry about is tomorrow, with its possible problems or promise. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow will come, but until it does we have no stake in tomorrow; it is not yet a reality.
TODAY: That leaves only one day- Today! Anyone can fight the battles of just one day. It is only when we add the burden of those two awful eternities-yesterday and tomorrow-that we can break down. It is not the experience of today that causes the most anxiety. It is the remorse or bitterness for something which happened yesterday, or the dread of what tomorrow may bring. Thus only one day in the week requires our very best attention and action---the TODAY we live one day at a time.
Anonymous
July 18, 2008
Vacation Week
Just a reminder that there will be no classes the week of July 28th through August 3rd. Take this time to deepen your home practice or do your yoga on the beach! Enjoy the week and be ready to go Monday August 4th!
June 26, 2008
Beat the Heat
It's Summer! And with summer comes heat. For some of us this is welcome news to our internal and external beings. But for some the intensity of the heat can bring lethargy, aggravation and discomfort. Try this simple Pranayama (breathing technique) to help cool you from the inside out both during your yoga practice and anytime you begin to feel overheated. The names of the techniques are called Sitali and Sitkari, which are done by inhaling through the mouth and exhaling through the nose. To do Sitali, sit in a comfortable position, make an O shape with your mouth, like you are going to whistle, and curl the tongue lengthwise. Then, as B.K.S. Iyengar instructs in Light on Pranayama (Crossroad, 1998), "draw in air...as if drinking with a straw and fill the lungs completely." Withdraw the tongue, close the mouth, and hold the breath for five to 10 seconds. Exhale through the nose. Repeat this cycle for five to 10 minutes and then rest and breathe normally. If you can't curl your tongue, try Sitkari, which is similar to Sitali except that the tongue is kept flat. Part the lips and allow the tip of the tongue to protrude slightly. Practice gently and without intensity. Both of these techniqes help to cool the air that is being brought into the system...sort of like our modern day air conditioning! So don't sweat the heat--Be cool!
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