So what’s the problem with picking favourites?

Some yoga poses may feel intuitive for our bodies, and directly helpful, while some just make no sense, and are totally uncomfortable. It stands to reason that the former poses become our favourites, right?

Of course! As we all know, however, true yoga is about practicing in such a way that cultivates mindfulness, discernment, and detachment. It is only when we use our asana toward these goals that we can begin to yoke the mind and body, and ground and energize the spirit.

So how might picking favourites impede this work?

A typical story in the yoga world:

“I was practicing headstand every day because it made me feel amazing! Suddenly one day my neck started to hurt. I figured it would just go away, and kept practicing – I couldn’t imagine my day without the release of headstand. Finally, though, it got so bad my hands were going numb, and I had to stop completely!”

Of course favourite poses don’t always cause injuries. Perhaps, however, becoming attached to a certain pose can cloud our sense of mindfulness and discernment. Because our mind tells us we like this pose, it becomes harder to notice and accept that it is not the right thing for our body on a given day, or during a particular period of time. In fact, sometimes our preference for the pose can affect our judgment so much that we push ourselves to the point of injury when we thought we were doing our body good. Perhaps such thought is based on past positive experiences with the pose – experiences that initially led us to label the pose as a favourite.

Abiding in the present during all of our poses helps us to practice safely and reap more holistic benefits from our efforts. For example, while practicing that favourite pose, observe what your body likes about it so much. Observe – without judgment! – whether your mind is congratulating yourself for once again achieving this difficult arm balance, how your hips actually feel in the moment versus how amazing they felt two weeks ago, the present rhythm of your breath.

Practice with the same attentiveness during poses you actively dislike. Who knows? You may feel something quite different in that hated pose today than you did last month when you decided you hated it. The shift could be as simple as dropping your mental narrative.

We can bring what we learn from this aspect of the practice into the rest of our lives. The more we pay close attention and feel what is really going on in our asana, the more we master the art of not judging any aspect of our experience. We become more attuned with our bodies, aware what storylines our minds are feeding us, and more able to discern what will truly serve us in that very moment.

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

When I’m down, I can’t do anything!

Everyone reacts differently to hurt, grief, and sadness. For some, getting out for a sweaty vinyasa class is the perfect way to get some perspective on a situation and start to move on. For some of us, however, our bodies become lethargic, depleted of energy, and resistant to much physical exertion at all. Yet we know some yoga would be beneficial and healing. What to do?

Because there is very little exertion involved, and most of the poses happen on the floor, we can commit ourselves to a gentle yin practice without having to expend tons of energy. Just a tiny, baby push can get us through a small, safe practice that can enact a world of good in difficult times.

How does yin yoga help me when I feel this way?

Yin poses promote the unencumbered flow of energy – prana, or chi in the Chinese tradition. In traumatic times, our bodies often tense up as fear and grief course through us. Our nervous system attempts to create an armor to protect us from pain. This tensing, of course, has the opposite effect. Not only do our muscles get sore, we also become tight and achy in our connective tissue and fascia.

Many yogis and scientists believe that the energy channels of the subtle body travel through this sheath of connective tissue that wraps around all of our muscles. Applying gentle, static stress to these tough, yin tissues helps to gently open them so that blocked energy can flow. This leads to a greater sense of connection and wellbeing.

Holding a yin yoga pose, while not physically challenging in the way that yang poses are, produces intense sensation in the body. This sensation can helpfully mirror the painful, difficult thought patterns one is experiencing in the mind. Committing to staying with this physical discomfort for three to five minutes can help us to experience what we’re feeling more fully, and thereby begin to release it.

Yin poses are focused on the lower half of the body, which is where – according to both chakra theory and the meridian system of Traditional Chinese Medicine – we tend to hold onto trauma. Stretching these areas while experiencing such emotions helps to prevent these emotions from becoming stuck in the body. Many students report that holding a long hip-stretch such as Sleeping Swan (the yin version of Pigeon Pose), brings them to tears where they previously felt unable to let go and cry.

Even if you can only muster a pose or two, the therapeutic benefits of yin yoga can be very real, and soothing. So next time life whumps you hard and all you want to do is lie face down on the floor, don’t beat yourself up. Use this slow, quiet energy to practice very gently, and rest in the stillness your body and mind require to heal.

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

“Unpleasant” seems to happen every year, usually sometime in March. One week the birds are singing, the sun is shining, you’ve busted out your jean jacket ... then boom! It’s freezing again. There’s snow! Your giant boots are back on your feet, and you feel a bit like you’re in jail.

This isn’t right! It was supposed to be Spring!

Suddenly, all over town, you hear people bargaining with the universe:

“Seriously, I just can’t take any more!”

“But I already put my SAD lamp away!”

“I saw daffodils coming up, it can’t be snowing!”

And yet it is. The long-term forecast says we’re in for at least another week of below zero weather. For all the shaking of heads and stomping of feet and tensing of shoulders against the cold, the reality is we have to hold on a little bit longer. We have no choice. It will not change until it changes.

So where does mindfulness come in?

Take, for example, this feeling that it simply should be over by now. This is a perfect time to closely examine our aversion to the cold, the dark, and the enduring snow, and look at how we assign a negative value to them in our thoughts. When the Spring finally arrives, many of us hardly acknowledge that the feeling of lightness and warmth and relief exists precisely because of the cold, dark, heavy qualities of winter. One cannot exist without the other.

Rather than reject and hate them, we could really have a close look at how these last few gusts of winter feel. The more we practice actually experiencing things we label as negative in our everyday lives, the more easily this ability to be calm and present will come to us when we are faced with serious adversity. The weather can provide excellent training for whatever life may throw at us.

Just turn your frown upside down?

Not quite. Think of this more as an opportunity to engage fully with your surroundings, to take note of your thoughts, and perhaps to even cultivate gratitude for these last winter weeks. This may sound like a tall order, and an annoying one too, but the more you try to be present the more you may find to like. When waiting for the bus, see if you can gently roll your shoulder blades down your back. Observe how you use them as armor against the cold. When you breathe, fully feel the freezing air in your nostrils and take in the smell of snow. Examine experientially how your feet physically feel in those giant boots when you’re not attached to the labels of hot and itchy and confined.

Try it! Why not? And if all else fails, hit your local hot yoga studio, close your eyes, and pretend, pretend, pretend till Spring finally arrives!

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

Alas, it can also be pretty time-consuming. Of course we should all make room in our schedules to regularly attend class, but there are times when we simply need to balance classes with our own practice, at home.

Home practice! Yes! So what do I do?

Okay! No time for class this week, but you’ve totally committed to practicing a daily half-hour before work. But you’re bored! You’ve cycled through every DVD you own six times, you’ve tried a couple of sequences in books, but nothing’s lighting your fire like class. Maybe you should just wait it out till you can go again? You know from experience, though, that waiting gets your body annoyed and your mind in knots. You should really do something, but what?

A friend and fellow yoga teacher recently shared her latest home practice with me – get on the mat and see what happens. That’s it! She sits, stands, or lies down according to what feels right in the moment, and sooner or later, her body starts to move. Some days this leads to an Ashtanga half-primary series, other days to a sequence of long-held, yin-style twists. Almost invariably, though, the getting on her yoga mat leads to something.

Intriguing. Yet terrifying. What if our body gives us nothing? What if our mind forgets the poses? What if? What if? What if we spend so much time thinking our way out of it that we never even unroll the mat and try?

On the Mat, at Long Last

You’ve done it. You’re here. Sitting, standing, or lying down, you begin to tune into your breath. The experiment begins.

This experiment may teach us what poses we love. It may teach us what poses we hate, and resist, and will only do when forced to by a teacher. It may teach us that there are days asana is not on the table, but a sitting meditation or long savasana are just what the doctor ordered. It may teach us that a few yin poses make the yang feel better and more open. Another day, it may teach the opposite. It may teach us to listen more closely to our breath.

It may reveal how dependent we are on teachers or other students to “compete” with. It may lay bare our inability to push ourselves without external demands. It may teach us that we actually like slowing down and practicing gently when we’re not trying to get “bang for our buck.” It may teach us we love the dance of a fast-paced flow when no one’s there to judge our bent-kneed downward dogs and block-supported lunges.

It may teach us any number of things about ourselves that we never would have learned in class, from a DVD, or without the courage to say, “Hey body, what do you feel like today?”

So what are you waiting for? Scrape together ten minutes, and get on your yoga mat!

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

Either way, a little history never hurt

Chakras are mentioned in many ancient texts, from the Vedas to the Upanishads. The way we talk about chakras in North America largely dates back to Arthur Avalon’s, The Serpant Power, published in 1919. This work of translation brought the Sat-Cakra-Nirupana and the Padaka-Pancaka to English-speaking audiences. According to American chakra expert, Anodea Judith, the first text was written by an Indian pundit in 1557, while the latter dates back to the tenth century. What draws them together is their exploration of a model of seven basic chakras – spinning vortices of energy – lined up along a central channel called sushumna that runs parallel to the spine.

In her now-classic book, Eastern Body, Western Mind, Judith defines a chakra as "a centre of organization that receives, assimilates, and expresses life force energy." She goes on to usefully describe the chakra system as analogous to a computer. Each of the seven chakras runs a different program, installed at different stages of our development. "It is a heroic challenge, indeed," she says, "to identify our programs and rewrite them all while continuing to live our lives, yet this is the task of healing."

Each chakra comes into being by recording our physical and emotional environments and life events. As we delve further into the function of each individual chakra, we see that these recordings continue to repeat and manifest themselves in our physical bodies, as well as our thought patterns. They are destined to repeat forever unless closely observed, at which point we can apply various practices to either interrupt the repeated pattern or encourage it to continue. Depending on the emotional climate of one’s early life, there may be more or less work to do.

But isn’t that just Western psychology?

The two disciplines match up very well as evidenced by Judith’s parallel application of Jungian psychology in Eastern Body, Western Mind. What is of great appeal to the modern yoga practitioner, however, is the way the chakra system is mapped onto the entire body, rather than dealing more exclusively with the workings of the mind.

As we become more familiar with this model of thought, and bring it to bear on our asana and meditation practices, we can begin to explore where in the body we hold onto certain emotions and memories and how our behaviour shifts when a part of the body is stretched and awakened.

If this teeny introduction still leaves you saying, "huh?" do not despair! The chakra system is by its nature mysterious, esoteric, and difficult to grasp. As with many aspects of yoga, the best way to understand the chakras is experientially, through practice. Next time you practice meditation or asana, try to place a light focus on your sushumna as you breathe, and see what arises. Observe what you find. And stay tuned here for another bite-sized Chakra-Talk!

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

So what’s the guilt all about?

Our society, of course, is fast-paced, product-oriented, and anti-relaxation, but haven’t we yogis already figured it out? Don’t we already live the antidote? We should just feel great!

Yet who hasn’t wrestled with the worry that it really is just an indulgence? A little optional icing on the humdrum but serviceable cake of our lives. Who hasn’t lain in savasana and listened to a yoga teacher intone something about "Me Time," while they rub us down with lavender lotion? Nice, soothing, luxurious, yes, but who hasn’t had days when all this makes us think, "Jeez, I should be out there giving blood, or planting trees, or at the very least cleaning my freezer!"

What does "Me Time" really mean?

In Yoga for a World Out of Balance, Michael Stone writes, "If yoga does not support the quality of our family relationships, the health of our community, the way we source and eat our food, the way we feel in mind and body, how is it beneficial?" (p.29)

A good question. And precisely the one we unconsciously ask ourselves in these moments of guilt and weirdness we may experience on our yoga mats.

In these moments, it pays to look beyond the overt pleasure of stretching and relaxing – the "Me Time," – and have a closer look at what happens later, back in our "regular" lives. Especially during periods of sustained yoga practice – whether attending regular class, creating our own routine, or following a DVD – we often remember to breathe even off the mat. This may just result in more patience when it’s time for that meeting with our super-stressful client.

Perhaps we are more attuned to our physical bodies and are actually able to notice the pleasant sensation of warm water on our hands as we do something as mundane as the dishes.

Maybe your latest class shifted some aspect of your subtle, energetic body, leaving you more grounded and at home in the world. What a great foundation from which to help your son with his homework or drive your grandma to the doctor.

There is only "We Time."

As we all know, yoga is so much more than perfecting sequences of asana. It is a vast, many-limbed system of thought, and, to return to Stone, "Mothering, breast-feeding, laundry – these are valid forms of yoga practice because they are expressions of intimacy in action…yoga is a householder practice." (p. 29)

So next time you think your humdrum, serviceable cake isn’t worthy of icing, take just a moment to tune into your breath as you hurry down the street, a moment to feel the stretch of your shoulder as you grip the subway railing – this is yoga. You are connecting to the world around you, and you are opening yourself to connection with others.

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

I dabbled in yoga for years before it truly got me. A packed class in a university gym turned me off; a great Iyengar studio was too far from my apartment to commit; shoulder stand freaked me out. Frankly, I kind of hated the whole thing, and yet I kept coming back.

Eventually I found myself attending a Yin Yoga class near my house once a week. It made my hips feel good, and maybe even my brain. I actually felt my body get excited for Wednesdays, rather than my mind sternly telling me to go.

A little later I was invited on an intense business trip that made me nervous. I knew the trip would have plenty of personal reward but would also demand patience and focus of me that I wasn’t sure I had. So I did an experiment. The week before the trip, I went to yoga three times. Not just Yin, but some Vinyasa too.

And wouldn’t you know it? This yoga thing worked! While on the trip, I felt as serene, non-reactive, and present as I ever had. I managed to carve out the time in my five days away to take a class in Halifax, and that kept the good vibes flowing through my limbs.

And then I stopped. Again!

So Why Do We Stop?

Having now practiced for seven years, I’ve frequently found myself in dead periods, from a week or two to a month in length. This seems to be a pattern among practitioners I’ve spoken to. We stop for a few days because life gets in the way, and before we know it, the excuses sail in. Suddenly our feet haven’t graced a yoga mat in weeks.

Why? Some core-deep self-loathing that prevents us from doing what we know is good for us? Sure, probably. Some fear of changing so much we’ll be unrecognizable to ourselves and others? Perhaps.

A naturopath recently told me that no path of healing is straightforward. There are always bends and dips in the road. What might these bends and dips have to teach us?

Pick Yourself Up and Try Again

This past holiday season was another of those dead times for me, and I’ve just recently gotten back in the swing. You know how it starts – a class here, a couple of poses at home there – I’m thinking, “Aw jeez, it doesn’t even feel that good, and maybe my knee is feeling weird, and my time would probably be better spent paying bills and cooking up a pot of beans for the week...”

Somehow, though, I’ve managed to string together a few days of practice in a row, my breath has made its way back to my belly, and my joints aren’t quite as annoyed. It really is like meeting up with a long-lost friend and finding ourselves midway through our second beer. “This yoga thing works!” I want to shout out my window at whoever might listen. That’s right. Again.

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

Little Injuries: A Case Study

You’re happily flopped over in pigeon, the sensations in your hip are intense, but you decide, “No, I want to push it further.” You lean further down. Ooch. “Past your edge!” your body shouts. You ignore it. Ooch. On the walk to your car, the side of your thigh still hurts. Ooch. What have you done?

A little injury!

In class the next day, everything is off. Your leg bugs you in all manner of poses. You experiment with “pushing through the pain,” only to feel something really sharp, unpleasant, and scary. By savasana all you can think is how you’ve probably ruined yourself for life; now you’ll never get to handstand; you can forget about your teacher training dreams! Is it ripped? Is it sprained? Are you just being a baby?

Bringing in the Big Guns

Annoyed and disgruntled, you pony up the big bucks and see a physiotherapist. Weak core and quads contributing to an unstable pelvis you say, Ms. Physio? Fine!

You grit your teeth and doggedly do the exercises prescribed, a shining vision in your mind of getting right back to where you were. No! Beyond! You will be a better, faster, crazier yogi than ever before!

The big day comes when you try another class. You start flowing with gusto, and guess what? It hasn’t worked! Forward bends – your favourite! – are killing you!

Wait. A breath. Another.

Where does this rigid idea of our practice come from? Might a little injury offer a golden opportunity to reflect on just that? Perhaps you have heard from your teachers that life’s only true constant is change. Might your little injury be shining a light on this concept? But you have hopes for your body, dreams for your body, this just doesn’t fit! It’s bringing you down! Might these just be thoughts, that, when mindfully observed, identify themselves as no more than classic human grasping?

Often a little injury can change us in big ways. Perhaps the advice to strengthen quads and hamstrings opens the door to poses we once thought were unattainable for our body. Perhaps the forward bends that served us well for a time are no longer our body’s thing. Perhaps our practice has less to do with anything fixed, and much more to do with the type of close, compassionate observation a little injury requires of us.

Julia Tausch practices yoga and writing in Hamilton, Ontario. She is a certified yin yoga instructor, as well as the author of the novel Another Book About Another Broken Heart. She is currently completing her second novel and blogging about the process.

Working with Your Body

Yoga teaches you to listen to and respect your body, unlike activities that require you to push yourself, often past your limits. It is one thing to push yourself to realize your potential; it is quite another to keep pushing with no regard to the possible health consequences.

Yoga teachers may encourage you to play with your “edge,” while being careful not to push past it. You do want to venture outside of your comfort zone, but you never want to feel pain. Pain is an immediate sign that your body is saying, “Stop!”

Your edge is a place where you’re feeling and exploring safely. Going beyond that edge, especially if moving quickly and aggressively, has the potential to cause pain and injury.

Approach & Attitude

Although yogis do experience injuries, this has much to do with an individual’s approach to his or her practice. If the approach is gentle and sensitive, the likelihood of harming yourself is substantially decreased. Conversely, if you work against ahimsa (the yogic precept of non-violence), the possibility of injury is heightened.

This does not mean runners can’t apply a yogic approach, yet runners and yoga practitioners engage in quite contrasting movements. In yoga, you soften and breathe into your body. Runners and participants in high-impact aerobics use repetitive movements that are stressful to joints, tendons, ligaments, and muscles. This can result in repetitive strain injuries.

If you are partaking in stressful activities, just make sure to balance these with nurturing activities such as yoga. Similarly, if you participate in more heat-inducing practices, such as Power Yoga, balance your routine with slower or cooling styles. Yin Yoga targets the deeper layers of the body, including connective tissues, ligaments, and bones.

The practice of asana is interrelated with body awareness, positively promoting a healthy attitude of self-acceptance. On the other hand, activities such as aerobics and running do not, necessarily, focus on anything other than using the body to achieve a goal, such as beating a time record.

Yoga’s purpose is mastery of the mind. It also teaches that changing your attitude can change your behaviour. If you honour your body and respect your limitations, you will progress naturally without having to be hard yourself.

The Verdict?

It’s not actually that you should choose yoga over other forms of exercise, but you should be informed and intelligent about your choices. In our goal-oriented culture, you may have the tendency to push full-force ahead in order to stay in the race. Instead, consider pulling back a little and nurture yourself so that you develop the stamina and true health to maintain a steady pace appropriate for you.

Lisa Nicole Tai is a Yoga Teacher, Thai Massage Practitioner, Holistic Nutritionist, Writer, and Spoken Word Poet. She believes that by combining and applying the healing and creative arts to her life, she will find fulfillment and contribute to that of others.

Also, as a yogi in modern times, don't be so hard on yourself. Balance is the key as you are navigating your way through life and your yoga. You need work, play, and rest. Give yourself permission!

Mental, Emotional, and Spiritual Well-Being

You might be attracted to yoga because you think it is an effective form of exercise. Alternatively, you might be drawn to it as a method of stress relief. The fabulous news is that it works both ways!

A yoga practice helps you to cultivate the tools you need to keep calm and cool in your everyday life. These tools are useful in handling challenging situations and difficult people, thus keeping your stress as minimal as possible. You learn to act out of an authentic place of love and kindness, rather than a reactive place fueled by fiery emotion. Of course, this does not mean that you will never get angry, feel sad, or get into a fight, but it gives you self-awareness to conduct yourself accordingly.

One of the most important benefits is that yoga reaffirms your interconnectedness with everything within and beyond the universe, which fosters a deep connection with Spirit.

The Balancing Act

One of the greatest gifts of being a yogi is that you can define what that means to you. While I wholeheartedly respect the tradition of yoga and encourage others to recognize yoga as a discipline and system, I also know that people need healing! So if you view your daily, weekly, or even monthly yoga class as your escape from the hustle and bustle of your crazy, hectic world, then so be it! If you see it as a way to ground and reconnect with yourself, then great! If it is your exercise of choice, then that is what it is.

Take what you can from your practice, as long as you know that it has so much to offer for your mind, body, and spirit. Most importantly, keep practicing. You never have to achieve perfection. You don't have to be a vegetarian, meditate and go to asana class daily, and you don’t have to be the poster person for cool and calm. Find the formula that works for you.

Standing on Your “Own One Foot”: An Exercise in Finding Balance

The next time you are in Tree pose, focus your mind away from worry and fear. Feel the movement within your body, the energy from the earth, your connection with yourself. Find your strength, your centre, your balance. Be in the moment. Breathe.

The practice of learning to work with often challenging balance postures, such as Tree, Warrior 3, and Dancer, helps you to observe yourself, thus finding your own balance in daily life. Never underestimate the power of your yoga asana, as it can reveal much about yourself. Work with yourself, your mind, and your body to create a comfortable mental and physical space for yourself.

In the end, don't try so hard. Allow yourself to be present and find true health through a balanced approach!

Lisa Nicole Tai is a Yoga Teacher, Thai Massage Practitioner, Holistic Nutritionist, Writer, and Spoken Word Poet. She believes that by combining and applying the healing and creative arts to her life, she will find fulfillment and contribute to that of others.