Welcome

Thank you for joining us on this exciting journey toward greater awareness and joy in our bodies. We hope you will share your insights, successes and questions with us so that we can support one another outside of the studio in our day-to-day lives.

Welcome to Pilates Collective.

Welcome to Pilates Collective.
Movement. Practice. Joy.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Best Pilates Studio in Sonoma County

We were just voted Honorable Mention for Best Pilates Studio in Sonoma County for the second year. I feel so proud of everyone who makes the studio so amazing. The fact that we didn't even know the voting was happening last year and were voted honorable mention last year still blows my mind.
And we are in incredible company when it comes to Pilates in Sonoma County - spectacular company.
So, it feels pretty darn amazing that in 5 years we've done so much, come so far and have such a strong and loyal following!
May the next 5 years be even more fruitful and may we continue to give back to our community what they have given us!
With gratitude, Sonoma County.

BEST OF THE BOHEMIAN

Friday, March 11, 2011

Our First YouTube Testimonial - Add one of your Own

www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gYr3o0XGCA

Visit our Pilates Collective YouTube station.

No Regrets - Excerpt from February 2011 Newsletter

And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

T.S. Eliot
Four Quarters, Little Gidding, pt. 5

Hi, everyone.

I would say good morning, as it is a spectacular morning shining through my living room windows just now. I wish I could bring you back here with me and talk with you sitting next to me, watching sparkles of sun break through the dark grey of rain clouds outside. I hope you can imagine it. Have a cup of coffee and sit with me. This is one of my favorite moments: both this early morning place on my couch and the writing of this newsletter and I am grateful to know you might take a moment to be here too.

(I've been reading way too much fiction lately hence the fluffy over-description. Sorry. :)

To the point:

One of my students who shares an interest in Buddhism, in meditation and in a particular Bay Area Buddhist teacher, Phillip Moffit, told me yesterday about a Dharma talk on "What might have been" - on clinging to the past. As I sit in the unusual quiet of my house and listen to the talk I realize that clinging is one of my favorite pastimes, although not to the past. Clinging comes in many forms. I have spent very little time lingering on what I could have done or should have done so in large part my life feels free from regret. I have all kinds of stories about why that's true - some are good and some are not. In any case, in exchange for letting the past be I know myself to stretch far ahead to the future grasping at what I will do or become or create.

The future nearly always obscures my vision to the point of creating a constant state of frantic movement toward something not only outside the present, but outside myself. This ebbs and flows like all things, but when I feel lost, when I feel a lack of control, a sense of not knowing I begin looking at what I will do next. I make another plan, seek out another solution, set a clearer goal, use a better technique, generally imagining what it will be like in the future if I work a little more or a little harder. Everything already created and set in motion is lost to the greener shade of future's grass. Ah, well. So it is for me. And for you it may be different.

What I am aware of lately is the energy lost in such repose. Whether clinging to the past in reverie or regret or to the future in fantasy or anxiety, clinging wastes the energy that could be used to relish the singular moments of our lives and infuse them with richness.

This morning when I went to wash my hands I did something unusual - an experiment in being present. I slowed down enough to really look at my hands and feel them in the soapy warmness. I have nice hands I thought. Long fingers, strong nails, agile and strong. After all, they are responsible for my very quick and accurate typing speed, for which I am known to brag. Yes, I think my hands are beautiful and I am grateful for all that they have done and will do. Mostly, though, I don't notice. My story is I am too busy.

Phillip is known for using both T.S. Elliot and Trappist monk Thomas Merton to illustrate Buddhist teachings. This morning, not for the first time, I read again the following quote by Merton: "To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is itself to succumb to the violence of our times."

Yes, it is so, isn't it? This is one way of clinging to the future or even to the present. And yes, it feels violent. It feels like inner violence to myself often followed by self recrimination for what I have not yet done and should be doing. But, AND, if I decide - if only for a moment - to do nothing about any of it, to be still, to let it wash over me without identifying with the judgements then I feel the energy restored. I can see what one thing I need to do as the most important thing and the moment becomes rich even if it's uncomfortable or painful. Phillip talks about this as living in cycles, small moments of where you are now not where you could have been or where you will be. Our lives are many cycles at once: right now I am a writer, but I am also a mom and will be that completely in the moment. The cycle is right now, it's not next week or next year. It's not that I am 34 going on 64 with no time to waste. I am only here and right here is enough. It is. Enough.

"Said another way, don't make a panoramic movie out of your difficult schedule [or situation] such that you are constantly seeing yourself doing all that has to be done, as if it were going to be done all at once. Instead just do what has to be done right now, for that's all you can do. It may sound like a simple thing to do, but it is very subtle and difficult, yet so liberating!" Phillip Moffit, Article - Practicing Nonviolence Toward Self.

The moment of practice is a cycle too. When you practice you are practicing now. It's a cycle in which you commit to being present with where you are. Practice is presence. Practice is the act of expressing life as a return to the current moment over and over again. Maybe that's why maintaining my own practice is so difficult. Hmmm? You?

So, practice. Practice Pilates - being present in your body over and over again. Come in to the studio or do it at home, but do practice. You can't do Pilates without having a practice just like I can't call myself a writer without sitting down each day and writing. Each time I arrive it is a practice, it's the acknowledgement of value in one moment.

May you find richness in every moment, good, bad, difficult or easy. They all have value.

With gratitude,

Chantill

Balancing Effort, Sweet Effort - Excerpt from January 2011 Newsletter

Happy New Year dear friends. I hope this finds you well, energized by the freshness of the rain and the wide-openness of the year to come. I want to share something that's been on my mind these past few weeks and hope it will find a cozy spot in your attention, if only for this moment.

I was given such an amazing gift to start my year, one that seems to be resonating across many areas of my life connecting one to another with unexpected insights and small, powerful revelations. During a wonderful four hours with yogic and Sanskrit philosopher, Christopher Wallace, these words made their way home to my head and my heart: "Sweet effort."

We often talk about the balance of effort and ease in our Pilates practice. In fact, we always do. It is at the heart of the awareness we cultivate every time we practice. For me, it resonates in the way of balancing the effort I feel in living my life. No doubt you've been exposed, at some point, to the idea of non-attachment: the ability to let go of your expectations, your grasp on your desire for a certain outcome. Not to be mistaken for detachment, indifference or apathy. How do we apply effort without driving madly for the goal? If there is no interest in the outcome what's to motivate us toward it? These are my questions and where I found "sweet effort" waiting.

Non-attachment is our skillfulness in being present with whatever is happening, presently, without regret for what could have been. This is the sweetness.

In this modern world, I tell myself, in my life, effort reigns: effort to run my business well; effort to teach my son well; to discipline him and myself; to be non judgmental and always kind; to make money and on and on. The more excited I get about the potential of what my life holds the greater the drive - the more I set my sights on getting somewhere. The path seems very, very long and I get impatient. This is when I can feel my effort turn bitter.

However, through the experience of finding ease in my body, even in the most intense and focused moments, I am also familiar with the difference between this kind of straining, stressful effort and being able to set clear goals and intentions that come from a place of willingness and ease. There are times when the goal does not negate the joy in how I get there. This is what Christopher Wallace talked about: we must have the right view, the right starting place and have clear vision, where we want to go. Then there is practice. When practice is motivated by self-love and gentleness and by balance not self-hatred, impatience and agonizing effort there can be progress, even transformation. With sweet effort we reach our goals more directly regardless of if it's exactly how we thought we would.

When you find this place between clarity of path and direction, and a true ability to love just where you are in the moment no matter where it is, that's sweet effort. "Yoga is wanting the life you have," he told us. If yoga is the practice then Pilates can be the occasion for practicing sweet effort.

Buddhist teacher Michael Carroll, writes "Our effort to get somewhere, whether in our career, in our life, or in simply riding a bike, depends on first being somewhere, letting go of our fears, desires, habits, and routines and trusting ourselves fully in the present moment." We must balance the two efforts, writes Carroll.

I have a plan, a goal, an intention and it is strong. When I begin to strive for it, grasp at it, believe that there is nothing else that will do I experience stress and worry and a terrible exertion. It's like when I see you do a roll-up or try a teaser, applying all your effort to achieve the movement as you see others doing it or me doing it. Often, there is just tension and that tension restricts your body, cutting you off from finding the movement with ease. That's me when I become attached to the outcome of my clear plan. That's you, too.

In my Pilates practice, because of it, I rarely struggle with effort. I know, in a felt way, how to balance what I want with what I've got and it feels easy, graceful, perfect for what it is. That is sweet effort. When I can see my goals and know that whether or not I reach them I am just where I need to be, there is the same ease - the balance of efforts.

This is my great lesson in the moment: balancing the efforts - finding sweet effort. When I do find it, there is nothing but joy. The ease in my mind and my spirit is matched by the ease in my body and no matter whether I got everything on my list accomplished or got where I wanted to go, I feel good. I am happy.

So, I hope you can find some sweet effort today and every day. I have said and thought, on many occasions, what we do in the studio reflects the skillfulness we can cultivate in our lives. One can be a mirror of the other. Next time you find your sweet effort in your movement notice the feeling. Perhaps finding it in your life is not so different.

*Thank you to Cori for sharing Christopher with me!*

With warmth and gratitude,
Chantill

Flights of fancy and ordinary presents... Excerpt from December 2010 Newsletter

Just over a week ago I was sitting in the Chicago airport, tired, back aching, stomach churning – strong coffee at 3 a.m. will do that – watching with slightly puffy eyes the hustling and grumbling of hundreds of absolutely ordinary people moving with narrowly focused attention toward someone or something in the distance. We sat encompassed by our own small cell of importance, heading for Florida. We were thinking about us. They were thinking about them. And yet, in airports, like banks, or during jury duty, we gleam that our little islands of awareness are no different than that of the guy with the mustache who's pushing his way to the front of the boarding line. It’s very likely that he, like us, is pondering bills that are due, what he didn't get done before rushing off or anxious about the family he's about to see. He's maybe worrying that his mustache is out of style and thinks he should probably have gone with the goatee. Is his deodorant is working? Not today! Like us, he's at the center of everything.

In my movie - the one where I am the superstar - I start to think about how I love January 1st. I jump suddenly past the next 2 weeks. Reveling in the anticipation of the freshness of the New year, I also realize that just about now my head feels like it's going to explode. I am all together a little twitchy: Worried about closing up the books for the year and the coming of taxes; Cookies for Friday; A trip to the city on Saturday; Five presents left to buy; And really nasty stuff like the lice outbreak at Charlie's school. I notice that since I am uncomfortable I take the nearest exit to Downtown Somewhere Else.

I want to not only look past my own distress but also ignore the distress of those around me passing it off as not related to me. Generally, that's no good. It's only a patch for a hole that inevitably begins to leak as soon as I turn away. Anyway, he's just a dude doing the best he can, right? Probably. I smile and watch him shove on.
With Charlie asleep in my lap I continued to watch. There was an elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair who would need to be helped down the ramp. One of the Southwest employees helped her arrange her luggage on the metal flaps where she rested her puffy feet. She yelped as the luggage went down on top of her feet instead of between them. The attendant didn’t hear her and the woman was making faces, jerking her legs and scowling nastily. This went on for a few moments before the necessary adjustment was made. I watched and saw my own easily roused irritation play on the woman's face. I thought, I do that. I winced. I've been that attendant, too. I think she feels bad and just then I am glad I am not her.

So, what I wish for all of you this season is to be present - to stay awake no matter what's going on around you and realize that your experience is shared. We are not so special after all. Our lives are ordinary, much the same as our neighbors and it delights me to remember this. All at once I unique and absolutely nothing special - never separate.

Like the guy with the bad mustache I, too, wonder if my deodorant is working. If it's not, I think Well, today I'm Stinky Girl. It's okay, though - yesterday it was you. :)

May all of you and your beautiful families have a spectacularly imperfect holiday season!


With love,
Chantill

Words on Wisdom - Excerpt from November 2010 Newsletter

Hello dear students!

Before we get started, I'd like to say a sincere thanks to everyone who contributed to our first Stretch To Recovery pledge drive! The difference your donations make is more than a drop in the bucket for this young non-profit program. We hope you will continue to help us by spreading the word. (You can still donate - every dollar helps us offer Pilates to someone with cancer. Thank you! stretchtorecovery.org.) See below for more information about the program.

* * *

Now, to begin, I should first offer a brief forewarning: I almost got absolutely carried away with the quotes at the top of the newsletter this month. A bit like the persistent, nagging autumn-time fly that's been hanging around the studio, an unwieldy number of exhortations have been orbiting my attempts to get started this month. "Resistance is futile" comes unfortunately to mind, but it pretty much says what I now know. You will have to bear with me. Hopefully we'll come out on the other side with something coherent or at least mildly motivating. You never know. We'll hope for the best.

Here they are:

From a friend of mine who got it from who knows where:

"A worry is a prayer for something you don't want to happen."

From The Diamond Cutter - Geshe Michael Roach:

"- There's no word in Tibetan for "guilt." The closest thing is "intelligent regret that decides to do things differently.""

From Stanford University Commencement 2005 - Steve Jobs:

"For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something...almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure -- these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose."

Put together they make me think of the ubiquitous - often ambiguous and sometimes lightly frustrating - advice of it's the journey that counts not the destination or as the Buddha said, "It's better to travel well than arrive."

No doubt you've read those words here in some form or other if not exactly. Honestly, until recently I haven't had a truly deep understanding of what they mean. I've always given them the "Yes. Right, of course. I know" shrug off. However, my ruminations as of late lead me to believe that wisdom really does necessitate age - at least the accumulation of experiences - hence I seem to be making progress.

Today, in the studio, I noticed every face that came in. I noticed the words the teachers spoke, how they cued and how they touched or guided their students. I noticed the satisfaction as students left and my feelings of gratitude that they made it to practice today. I spoke to a student about how she felt her abs for days and days after her last session and to another about how she uses her shovel. I noticed that the big picture does not exist without all the small pixels that give it color, form, texture and depth. I noticed that no matter what my goals are, being where I was today, saying the things I said, listening, guiding, questioning even feeling disappointed and unsure was perfect.

I feel as if I've finally passed some threshold -- cosmic, astrological or otherwise -- in my life that makes me really know the value of right now. Finally the "there" at the end does not seem as important. Like my son Charlie says "Kablam!" it just happened. But as with injury, rarely does it just happen. More accurately, injury or in this case lasting revelations come over the course of many years. So, older and wiser? Yes, I think so. Sometimes.

I have been a fool often enough in 34 years. Do you know anything about that? Growing up I mostly believed my parents' forewarnings and that they knew what they were talking about - at least I told myself and them I did. That is until I knew better. Because how can you avoid that feeling of knowing? In retrospect, the feeling of the unavoidable mistake - the necessary evil. And besides, being told I didn't know often felt like a challenge.

I've said things I wished I hadn't, lost sleep over ridiculous things of one color or another, suffered nightmares, slammed doors, thrown things, lost friendships, tried to find love in the wrong places, been mean on purpose, woken up moody, lied, jumped into things too quickly, said things before thinking them through and much, much more.

When my parents told me "slow down, don't be in such a hurry, believe in yourself, family is important, follow your heart" and "it's not about where you get but how you get there" cursory impact was the most they could hope for. It turns out they weren't just vomiting seemingly useless parental garbage. Holy cow! They actually knew what they were talking about! (Perhaps there is hope that Charlie will have this revelation, too?)

When we talk about the importance of practice, devoted and meaningful practice, this is what it really means. Our attention to the practicing itself rather than the goal we are trying to reach is the heart of practice. In yoga last night, our teacher Anne talked about relishing the practice. Wouldn't that be nice? Can we relish practicing a teaser or roll-up knowing we may never get there? If so, then we practice for the sake of practice, which becomes motivation in and of itself. This leads to dedication and devotion no matter what other forces are at work.

Can we rest comfortably in the presence of past mistakes while deeply valuing just who and what we are capable of in moment without expectation of what's to come? Isn't this what they mean when they say enjoy the journey?

Perhaps in a very naive way I think I've grown to appreciate my multitude of missteps and ultimately incurable imperfections. After all, there is no escaping them. It's kind of like watching a B movie, one you can't help but love. And it all feels really good. It feels real. It makes me want nothing more but to continue to do it.

In this month of Thanksgiving, I hope that you are able to notice from time to time the tiny pixels, the small invaluable moments that are the larger picture: a deep breathe taken while in a challenging exercise; the realization that your shoulders feel more connected to your back; the feeling of energy as you leave the studio; the voice of your teacher as he or she gives you encouragement or insight. To these things let us offer thanks and gratitude and see if we can begin to feel what it means to enjoy the journey fully.
May you enjoy every moment of it, especially when it's not what or how you would prefer it to be. :)

With gratitude,
Chantill

Change... Excerpt from September 2010 Newsletter

"For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Well, here it is -- best said by an American icon. Change brings a balance of things. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier. When we are in the midst of change, especially the first painful bits of shaking things loose, we'd rather be back in the stuck spot where things are at least familiar. Yet once we are past that awful and uncomfortable moment when we first recognize some change is necessary, we move into a new flow, a new rhythm. Once we are there we can't imagine being anywhere else. Change can be funny like that.

I bring this up now because as many of us know, I've been experiencing my own bit of turbulence around change. Our baby, the studio, is moving beyond toddler-hood and it's time to treat it as such -- to let loose and see what it will do. A big step. We've invited several new teachers -- Colleen McCarty and student teacher Tiffany DiMartin -- into the Collective with excitement. And October brings with it a new class format, new pricing and a new schedule.

Certainly, we are no strangers to change. I think Pilates Collective may have undergone so many changes that for some of you it seems we've lived multiple lives together. It's true. For whatever reason, we have chosen this path and it has lead us around more curves than we would have thought we could endure.

So, we take another step forward to lose something and gain something. We hope that you will see your way through all of this to our truest efforts to improve the studio for both students and teachers. It takes both, to make our community what it is and to build a foundation that will last. Of course, there will be bumps in the road. Some changes will feel difficult and some that we thought might be difficult, will be easy. The truth is, you never know how it's going to unfold.

As we make these transitions, please feel free to give us your feedback. We want the studio to be welcoming, safe and supportive to all of you, so your thoughts are invaluable.

And on top of all of this, the season dares to change too. I hope you are all thriving and living the lives you want to be living. We'll see you soon.

With gratitude,
Chantill

Pilates Is a Journey - Excerpt from August 2010 Newsletter

Everyday I hear myself saying Pilates is a journey. To see and feel results you need to practice. There is no end point in which the body is "fixed" and perfectly aligned and functioning without some small bit of work to be done. That's the truth. It's a beautiful truth. Our body's are always teaching us, always changing to offer more insights. The true value of Pilates -- of anything -- is in the practice.

We have been working quite a lot on figuring out what draws people to Pilates? How do we articulate the value of the method? How do we help people understand it and want to do it? Sure it's about fitness, health, strength, well-being, but it's also about making a choice to dedicate yourself to something for the long run. How do we portray all of that?

As most of us know, what we thought Pilates was when we first started is not what it ends up being -- even after our first class we start to have a hint of this. This is one of the most enduring qualities of Pilates. It is always changing, revealing more possibilities.

As teachers we've been doing it for so long it has evolved from and into many things. For some of us ease and efficiency are at it's heart. For some of us it's about mindfulness and observation. For some of us it's about injury prevention and a life with less pain and greater strength. I think I can say with confidence we love Pilates because it's malleable and adaptable to our individual needs. It can be anything we want it to be as long as we are dedicated to it.

But why do you do it? Why would you tell someone else do it? What's the value for anyone?

It's just exercise, right? Sometimes we do it, sometimes we don't. We do it because the "They" are telling us that balance and core work is important or that we must get an hour of exercise a day (or whatever "They" are saying). Maybe we come to it because we want to look a little better in our jeans; we want to like what we see in the reflection of the shop windows; we are in pain; or maybe we want a better golf or tennis game. Every reason is a valid and powerful reason. So, if you know why you started, then why do you continue?

Pilates, for me now, couldn't be further from what I first imagined it was (on the floor, pumping my arms wildly because a very imposing ballet teacher said I must and some German guy back in the 50's said we should). Today, (due in part to a more mature sensibility -- thank goodness for everyone -- and much more experience) I see it is a never-ending process of knowing my body better -- understanding, deepening and unfolding. With knowing comes the skill of observation and awareness. With awareness comes the ability to build strength beyond my immediate goals, pain or challenges. That is why I practice -- I see there is always somewhere new to go and it is never boring!

Whatever the answer is for you we are grateful that you've made a decision to practice. If you wish your practice was more consistent that's why we are here -- to help guide and support you. If you want to start practicing, we are here for that too.

We hope that you have found something in Pilates that will be a part of your life for a long time. We hope that your enthusiasm helps to inspire others to investigate the great potential Pilates holds.

We are grateful for this opportunity to offer something valuable into the world and have so many wonderful people to share it with. Keep practicing or start practicing. We'll see you soon.


Chantill

On The Wagon

Greetings All!
It's been more than a year since I've posted directly to our studio blog, but am excited about making it a constant and ongoing forum for our teachers, students and community.

My sense is, however, that blogs work because people blog - so it will be a collective :) effort for us to make this a success. So, blog, blog, blog away!

I will now be posting our monthly newsletter article to the blog so you can read it, send it, comment on it and write your own responses and blurbs - any thoughts or challenges or inspirations you want to share.

We will also now have a link to our blog(s) - as there are two of them technically - on our website so you can access them easily. In attempts to generate interest and conversation I am also working on linking us to other blogs to hear what Pilates enthusiasts and teachers are saying around the country and the world.

Here are a few interesting things on my mind right now related to Pilates:

- We just found out that we were voted Honorable Mention for Best Pilates Studio in Sonoma County in the Bohemian's Best Of for the second year in a row.
I think this is an amazing feat given the plethora of really good Pilates studios in Sonoma county and how long many of them have been around.
We couldn't be more proud to be thought of so highly! Thank you! We'll keep you posted about the official announcement and any parties or specials associated :)

- One of my students, Patty Holden, a nutritionist by education and inspiration, was telling me yesterday that studies have been done that show asymetries in the body can start during gestation. Fascinating stuff. Research is now being done and published regarding diet and blood-type (you've heard of the Eat Right for Your Blood Type) and diet and genetics.
Here are some links - http://www.drpeterjdadamo.com/wiki/wiki.pl/Welcome and
http://www.genotypediet.com/index.shtml

- We are just about to launch the demo site for our Audio Home Practice program and are working hard to get it to you. Keep your eyes and ears posted for PilatesHomePractice.com/Audio. This program will eventually lead to video classes as well! Exciting!!!