I recently had the opportunity to sit down with the fabulous Nancy Tan and ask her a few questions. Nancy founded Fig Garden Yoga Studio in 1998 (first known as Nancy‘s Yoga Studio), and is trained in a variety of mind-body disciplines. Nancy is also the author of Quiet Mind, Healthy Body: The Art of Low Stress Living, and produced the relaxation CD Yoga Nidra: Therapeutic Deep Relaxation.

Thanks for taking the time to sit with me and answer some questions. You have led a very interesting life. What is your earliest memory?
My first memory is of us sneaking behind Japanese lines. Shanghai was occupied, so our family evacuated to the interior. I was about three or four years old. We ended up in Anhui Provence, Northeast of Shanghai. We stayed for three or so years. My mother founded a school there. I remember taking naps at the desk. Because my mom started the school and she was the principal, I was elected class president. I was about four years old. Pretty bad experience -- no idea what it was all about!

What were these years like?
We were in a very backwards village. I remember the country house we were at had some land. My mom literally had a zoo -- chickens, a goat, lambs. Every so often little Pebbles would be chicken soup -- someone would end up on the table. A very rural experience. I remember being chased by a gaggle of geese.

Where did you move next?
We left Anhui Provence after the Japanese surrendered and returned to Shanghai. Then the revolution happened, so we had to leave China for Hong Kong. We were going to go to Taiwan from Hong Kong when my father died. We stayed in Hong Kong for four or so years before immigrating to Argentina. Eva Peron was friendly to Chinese refugees, and my mom planned to start a school, however, Peron died before we got to Argentina. We couldn’t come directly to the United States because there was a cap on Chinese immigrants. Things haven’t changed too much. We lived off our resources in Argentina, and it took two years to get to the United States. I was fourteen when we arrived in San Francisco. After a semester in San Francisco, my mother decided it wasn’t a good place, so she sent me to a boarding school in Michigan. After graduating, I cashed in my train ticket and stayed in Chicago for a year. I got a job doing billing for a meter reading place. Time Magazine eventually hired me and trained me on keypunch. I put myself through school that way.

You lived in many different countries. Could you speak the languages?
I spoke several dialects of Chinese, Spanish, Latin, and later, German. I was very good with languages once upon a time.

When was your first introduction to yoga, and what was that like?
I was going to Esalen quite a lot, taking courses in transpersonal psychology and all. I did the yoga thing with Chuck Miller and Maty Ezraty -- the YogaWorks people. It was Ashtanga yoga, but he was such a good teacher, I didn’t feel stressed out. It was just great. I didn’t find yoga I liked in Fresno, so I got a schedule for the Iyengar studio in Palo Alto. Every weekend I would drive to Palo Alto for classes.

At what point did you decide to teach yoga?
I never planned to teach. During the week I had no teacher, so I took a training course so I could do it right. The program was through Integrative Yoga Therapy. As part of the program I had to teach an eight week class. I never did stop. Several of the original students are still with the studio.

What has been yoga’s greatest gift to you?
It helped me a lot in embodying everything I learned in psychotherapy. It gave me much more of a sense of awareness. What I got from psychotherapy was head knowledge, but yoga helped me put it into my life so I can act on it. That’s not to say that it’s more important, but both were necessary, I think.

Let’s talk about your book on the topic of stress. What was the experience like writing your book?
The worst part of writing the book was trying to pick a title -- constantly asking friends, “What do you think of this title? What about this one?” The writing was not the hardest part. Getting it published was the hardest part. The writing of it I enjoyed. Getting it published, I did not.

How long did it take to write?
A long time. Between getting the idea and beginning to write was maybe a year and a half. If I hadn't had a publisher interested in it, I probably wouldn’t have written it. Once I got going it was good. And then I had to lay it aside for the last chapter. I didn’t know how to end it. There are so many topics related to stress. I could have doubled the size of the book. I just wrote when I wasn’t traveling, so it took another two years to get it out. At some point, I just wanted to be done.

Are you interested in writing another book?
I would be interested I think in writing a book on aging, incorporating yoga philosophy. But you know, my book is not a yoga book strictly, so it’s hard to find a publisher. The yoga books I’ve seen on aging are asana oriented. Some talk about health, but none that I’ve seen use the philosophy. Right now, though, I’m having a lot more fun water coloring.

You seem to really enjoy the creative process.
It’s fun to learn a better way to do something. I like the learning process in something I’m interested in. I can learn to be a good writer. The writing process taught me how to write. I enjoyed the editing process as well. I love water coloring, and I don’t mind being bad at something. I love the process of colors, but also the idea of doing something better the next time -- finding a new way of doing something.

You are known as an enthusiastic traveler. Where haven’t you been that you would like to?
Denmark, Norway, Finland. The Baltic Countries: Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia. Iran. The five ‘stans, but it’s very expensive to go there -- every one of the ‘stans needs a visa. Australia and New Zealand. Germany. Laos and Myanmar.

Are there places you would not like to travel to?
I don’t want to go to the Galapagos. I’m not interested in animals. No safari in Africa. I’m not interested in the Amazon, or really cold places like Antartica.

Do you have a favorite place you’ve traveled?
The favorite place is always the one I didn’t get enough of. The British Isles are probably one of my favorites because I’m the most familiar with the history.

Are there things in life you wish you could do over?
If there was something I could do over, I would have been a better mother. I would have started yoga younger. Been better to my body sooner.

How would you describe yourself?
I'm afraid I'm rather opinionated. My opinions can be changed when I can see things differently but when I have them, they are pretty strong opinions. I am not a loner and I enjoy people, but I prefer projects by myself since I like the freedom of doing what I want to do and how I want to do it. Take reading for example. I'm an avid reader but I've not been successful in book groups because it is difficult for me to read something I have little or no interest in. So I've learned not to serve on committees or join organizations. I am pretty intuitive and I like creating new projects better than maintaining them.

What do you consider three important traits in your friends?
Loyalty. Honesty. Self awareness.

Do you have any prized possessions?
Hmmm. My Duxiana mattress, because I’m never buying another one!

It was a pleasure to talk with you, Nancy. Thank you!


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Got Happiness?

Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you. --Hafiz
It comes as no surprise to most of us as we move through our days pursuing happiness (that self evident truth Thomas Jefferson wrote of) that true happiness can't be traced by our fingers on the logo of a new Coach purse, is not residing at the bottom of a bag of potato chips, doesn't arrive with the boxes for the new house, and isn't awarded to us for having a high friend count on Facebook. We know all the places Happiness isn't, yet many of us find ourselves habitually returning to these well-worn spots. If we posted a picture of our missing Happiness on a milk carton, what would it look like? And if we really wanted to find Happiness, don't we already know its address? Does it make sense to chase after something we can't see, and isn't missing in the first place?
As we inhabit our body through careful attention to yoga poses and the mind begins to quiet, space is created. In this new space, we are presented with the opportunity to move past our habitual patterns of action. We can begin to investigate happiness in the last place we think to look.
Yoga gives us the opportunity to stop pretending we're pursuing Happiness, which was never running from us in the first place. Yoga instead gives us the opportunity for Happiness, which has been running down the street after us, calling our name, to find us and bring us home.

Lovely All Around

A lovely weekend was spent recently in beautiful Ventura, California by Nancy Renaud and myself. We had a wonderful time filled with healthy gluttony and redundancy (redundancy gets such a bad rap -- I mean it in the best of ways!) Our first stop on the redundancy train was to let Bon Iver (http://www.myspace.com/boniver) play non-stop in the car (a four hour car ride each way, additional driving around town -- you do the math.) We ate almost every meal at Nature's Grill (when something's so good, why go anywhere else?) And we spent most daylight hours engrossed in an 18 hour yoga wall workshop led by Bryan Legere (http://www.venturayoga.com/index.html) at his Ventura Yoga Studio. The workshop was participated in by a fabulous and varied group (who would have thought that Nancy and I coming from Fresno would be some of the closest geographically to Ventura? People had come from across the United States and New Zealand.) Bryan holds an Intermediate Level 3 Iyengar Certification. He and his business partner invented "the Great Yoga Wall" (http://www.yogawall.com/index.html) in 1998, a system which builds upon the revolutionary inventions of Mr. Iyengar's rope wall through adjustable belts and attachments to the wall. The rope wall is a wonderful tool to assist in the development and progression of poses, and it was great to revisit its use as taught by Audrey at Fig Garden Yoga (http://www.figgardenyogastudio.com/home.html), as well as explore other uses. What a great weekend!

I think Emily Dickinson Might Have Been Mistaken

The tiny bird moved back and forth in her closed, cupped hands. She could feel its strong wings pushing against her palms, and could feel the rapid heartbeat beneath its warm chest.
She marveled at the wallop this small bird packed. Gathering her courage, she tentatively separated her hands an inch or so in order to say good bye to this little bird. Hope -- this thing with feathers that perched in her soul, that sang the tune without the words, and never stopped at all. Never. Ever. Ever. Stopped.
Fearful of the unknown, she nonetheless knew it was time to say good bye. They'd outgrown each other, gone as far as they could in their relationship. She knew Hope's Greatest Hits by heart -- the one where the ground would finally stop shifting beneath her, the one where she'd one day not only make it, but stay there (where ever "it" and "there" were.) The one where all the loose ends would be neatly tied up. The one where one day she would arrive, fully-formed, as the person she was supposed to be. And all the time she'd been Hope's biggest fan, this innocent looking little bird had been robbing her blind. Over and over again, it had stolen the present moment from her. She had been mesmerized by its star power and hypnotized by its beautiful songs. Hope had swooped up from her soul, carrying her away from Reality, whom she had tossed by the side of the road with barely a glance back. Hope dazzled her with its live show -- and she followed it from arena to arena, giddy over its promises of something better, prettier, faster, longer-lasting (pleasure!), shorter-lived (pain!), and/or more permanent or less permanent, and which, it sang, could only be found in the future.
She took one last glance at the bird in her hands. She turned her palms upward, said good bye, and Hope took flight. (She thought she caught a look of relief on its face as it flew toward the setting sun.)
She brushed her hands together, still warm from its touch, and looked back at the road behind her. Plumes of dust rose from the gravel as she saw Reality trudging slowly toward her. Ah, Reality. Not always what she wanted, but always there. He reached her side. They stood together for a moment, saying nothing. Their eyes turned toward the sky, empty now of Hope, and together in silence they watched the sun drop below the horizon. Reality put his hand on her shoulder, and together they turned and began to walk the dusty road home.

Waving, Not Drowning

Once upon a time, a woman of a certain age found herself in the middle of the ocean, swimming to stay afloat. The ocean had no beginning and no end -- it churned and moved beneath and around her. It was an ocean of activities, chores, jobs, to-do lists, and many more things -- too many to name -- which kept her constantly moving to keep her head above water far beyond the time it took the sun to arc across the sky . Sigh. Somewhere there must be a better way!
She looked up one day, mid-paddle and mid-errand, and noticed a raft bobbing in the water beside her. It didn't look as if it would hold her, but it's beautiful shade of purple enticed her to take the chance. Grabbing hold of the raft, her to-do list slipped from her hands. She worriedly watched it disintegrate and sink beneath the surface of the water as she hoisted herself onto the slim structure. Being that the raft was only 24" x 68" and 4mm thick -- the exact size of a standard yoga mat -- she was surprised it held her so well, and she fit quite comfortably.
She floated on top of the water -- the lists, the chores, the jobs, all forgotten. She rested and rejuvenated. She stretched and strengthened. She explored and quieted. She pressed into her big toe mound and back through her outer heel and felt the power inside her body. She brought her shoulder blades into her back and let her chest and heart lift, feeling refreshed and energized. She folded herself in two, deep into her hip creases, and rested with her head below her heart, quieting her mind. When on her purple 24" x 68" raft, life simplified. The unnecessary thoughts (My! There were so many of them!) seemed to fall away. Words went unspoken, and the world was none the worse for it. She felt alive and present to each moment, and felt her body fully inhabited.
Keeping her raft close by her side, she dove back into the water (after all, the kids did need to be picked up from school) with a restored body and a clearer mind. She created a new to-do list to replace the lost one, but this time made sure that it left her plenty of time to spend on her raft.
If you find yourself in the ocean and see this woman waving from the distance, don't worry, she is not drowning. She is just waving you over with an offer to share her raft.