Here’s the poster for the upcoming workshops at Maadi and Zamalek. These will be the last of the workshops in Cairo. Excited…and a little sad that my time here is almost at an end. It’s been a very special teaching experience…
On Facebook today, a student in Cairo observed the irony between the region’s complex history of wars, conflicts, killings, assassinations and bombings and the region’s common greeting: “May peace be upon you…”
It made me think how we need light the most in darkness–and how light shines more brightly in the dark.
Perhaps the greeting–born out of darkness–is trying to ignite in the hearts of each individual a sense of peace, or at the very least, the need for it.
Sadly, sometimes the-powers-that-be promote fear and confusion, which obscures the light of hope and justice, and the work of peace falls on the individual. And this isn’t only in the Middle East, but everywhere.
We must ask ourselves then how do I bring peace into my own life? What can I do to shine a light of peace in the dark? And trust that our light will inspire others to shine as brightly.
And more light means less darkness…
The yoga practice, I feel, is an important tool for seeking some personal peace. My time here in Cairo is helping me feel, however, how this personal peace has to expand from the individual to the communal, that our external actions must promote peace around us also. Still, yoga is good place to start. Practice and turn on that night light.
CLASSES: I continue to teach in Cairo for two more weeks, until December 15. Ashtanga Yoga Cairo in Zamalek: Sun/Mon/Wed 6:30-9pm. La Zone, Maadi Degla: Sun-Thurs 7-10am. Final ashtanga workshops in Shanti Yoga Cairo, Zamalek and Maadi December 6-7.
Photo: Little light show is from a shop in the Souk at Khan el Khalili, Old Cairo.
It was a soft inner dance last night in Shanti Yoga Cairo in Heliopolis, my second offering at the space that regularly holds meditation classes every Thursday evening.
Soft and subtle, there was little movement–externally anyway. And as a facilitator, I have to remind myself that the moving meditation doesn’t require getting people to stand up and boogie. That there are all kinds of movement, many of which we cannot see. This process is so deeply internal. I continue to be surprised by it, where it goes for each participant.
When we reentered the circle the share there was weightlessness and relief from suffering, exploration of gravity, a delineation of mind and body, a release of emotion, and a timeless sense of being. Connecting us all: a deep sense of gratitude for the experience. When we look beneath the surface there is so much to be thankful for.
The cosmic party was still on, just only very privately!
Hope more will join next time! There will be at least one more Inner Dance in Cairo, Thursday, December 12, 7pm in Ashtanga Yoga Cairo in Zamalek.
Today, I’ve been here one crazy Cairo month. It’s gone by fast–not surprising as this is a very fast city. Like any big city, Cairo has a lot of edge, in its buildings, in its politics, in its character. And life on the edge can be hard.
Three times a week, however, as I make my monster commute between the areas of Maadi and Zamalek, something softens each time I see the Nile River.
The Nile cuts through all this crazy, maneuvering around obstacles adeptly. It knows its course and moves with ease into the sea.
It reminds me that navigating a place such as Cairo, or for that matter life at large, requires being a bit of river, being light and agile, soft and fluid. But also remembering there is weight in water, that it is a force of nature, that as it moves it generates a great deal of power.
Photo: The River Nile.
It may not seem so, but it takes courage to get to class sometimes–to subject yourself to Cairo traffic (even on lighter Fridays), to leave your family for a few hours in the middle of the weekend so you can have a moment to yourself to feel your own body and breath.
But the result is worth it: victorious, we enjoyed the two-hour half primary exploration working on breath, workshopping a little this elusive thing called bandha.
Next Friday, 1PM, November 29 will be the last of the Friday Led classes in Maadi. In December, La Zone schedule will be Sunday to Thursday mysore mornings 7-10am until December 15.
Photo: This Friday’s led class at La Zone, Maadi, Cairo.

We strive for perfection. That’s built into us by our schooling, our upbringing, our culture and society. We come in to class and pour our bodies into shapes we’ve seen in magazines, posters, in youtube videos, and in the demonstrations by teachers we look up to. And we want our postures, asana, to be perfect!
But when it comes to yoga, what does it mean to have a perfect posture or asana?
Everyone’s bodies are built differently. We have different proportions, different ranges of motion. Some of us are stronger and have sturdier muscles. Some of us are softer and are more flexible. Our bodies have different gifts and along with that: different challenges.
There are certain issues of alignment, certain goals with each posture, and we must proceed with awareness of how to place the parts of the body in a way that is nourishing and supportive. We move to work certain areas, to open and balance. These principles are important to observe and practice.
Perfection, however, is not in the posture but in the practice. If you practice with presence, with love and awareness, if you breath full and even breaths, if you create the opportunity for the body to feel itself steady and easy, then no matter what your posture looks like at that moment, it is already perfect.
The truth is that what the posture looks like doesn’t matter as much as the effort in which we hold and move ourselves. And as our bodies change, what is perfect changes too. Such is practice, such is life.
Photo: Hala in downward facing dog, La Zone, Maadi, Cairo.

There are days that practice is full of light, it is illuminating, and we stir from our rest (or savasana) with a sense of being one small step closer to enlightenment.
Then, there are the other times, when practice is like navigating the shadows and we feel obscured by our thoughts, fears, habits, or patterns of behavior.
When we have a light practice, we often rejoice: “Ah, I had a good practice!”
When we have a dark moment: “Oh, I had a hard practice!”
It is all practice. The light. The dark. The shades in between. We appreciate the light because of the darkness, we can discern the dark because we know light. They make the big picture, they make seeing full, nuanced, interesting.
Photo: Mysore practice at La Zone, Maadi
Inner dance is never easy to explain. The lightness in the body. The cosmic party as you dance with yourself. Something, however little, however quiet, moves.
I received an email today from a participant from last Thursday’s ID offering in Heliopolis (Shanti Yoga), who moved a little physically but felt a big shift within. He described the experience as moving, that the session was like a helpful push to restart a stalled vehicle.
Sometimes we feel broken. Our environment, our culture, our own expectations play upon us. Our mechanisms get rusty or ill used. Imbalances occur. The body suffers. And we identify so much with our physical pains, our frayed nerves, our sad feelings.
This makes me recall a chant that I love to sing:
so ham, so ham
so ham shivo ham
I am not my body,
my body is not me
so ham, so ham
so ham shivo ham
I am not my mind,
my mind is not me
so ham, so ham
so ham shivo ham
I am not my ego
my ego is not me
“So ham”, like “tat tvam asi”, means “I am That” — That which is unchanging, unlimited and eternal.
What would our lives be like if we could identify with That, if we saw That in ourselves, in all our fellow human beings and co-habitors in this planet, how would we live our lives like then? How could we not honor and love ourselves and each other?
Photo: Beautiful bronze. Sculpture by Nathan from Atelier de Nathan at Darb compound in Old Cairo.