How to Force People to do Yoga (or Not)!

You know how profoundly yoga’s changed your life! You’ve espoused the benefits to everyone – how it will be the antidote to all that ails them, that they will emerge changed beings, body, mind, and soul! So how come your stressed-out dad, your tight-hipped mom, your high-strung sister, your anxious friend, even your fitness-obsessed neighbour will not come with you to yoga? Why?

Excuses, Excuses!

“Aw, I’m too old to start now,” says your dad.

“It’s too slow and boring for me!” your neighbour says, running off to CrossFit.

Your sister admits, downing her fourth espresso, “I know I should, I honestly just don’t want to!”

“No!” You find yourself shouting. “Yoga’s good for everyone! Even if it can’t heal you completely, it’ll change your perspective! Don’t you want to be in touch with your body? Become aware of your thoughts? Examine your values and judgments and let them fall away? Who wouldn’t? Hello?”

Sound like you?

If not, pat yourself on the back. If so, take heart – you are not alone. From distributing unrequested class schedules to passive-aggressive gift-card giving, passionate yogis everywhere are busy trying to spread the word!

Why can’t we yogis just relax?

Of course we want people to do yoga because it’s done a world of good for us in some regard – newfound strength, resilience, a more positive outlook – we imagine our loved ones making these same discoveries and expanding their lives.

For those of us who have been fortunate to heal an injury with the help of yoga, or break through psychological barriers that were holding us back, the fever can be even greater. We begin to see similar patterns of pain in others, and now know the antidote! We’ve told them, so why won’t they just do it?

How did you get where you are today?

If we think back to our initial forays into the practice, we may remember it wasn’t always a joy. It may not have even been relaxing at first. Perhaps it was scary, or too slow; maybe there was too much spiritual hoo-hah for our taste. By the time we’re at the point of dragging others into it, we’ve done the work of trying several studios, figuring out how to engage our back leg in Warrior One, summoning the courage to chant, “Om.” It probably didn’t take one friend bringing you to class to get you hooked on yoga. Any journey of healing is entirely personal and must go at the rate an individual chooses.

Does this mean we must stand idly by while our loved ones suffer, and not sing yoga’s praises? Really? Not entirely. But perhaps instead of haranguing and pushing, we could actually employ the practice here, too. Rather than advising someone on what to do about their pain, tune into your breath, become present, listen deeply. Accept and make space for this person’s pain. Have compassion and understanding for their story – they are stuck somewhere and wish it could be different. Chances are you, too, are in the same position in some aspect of your life right now.

The more you embody the benefits of yoga, the better its message is spread – through peace, not violence; through listening, not telling.

How Yoga Creates Space

Yoga teachers often ask us to create more space – between the shoulders and ears, between the collar bones, in the belly as we breathe in…very helpful cues for getting the most out of our poses. How might this concept of creating space play into the rest of our lives, both on and off the yoga mat?

Space in Our Days

All too often, our days seem so busy and daunting that we consider skipping yoga entirely – it feels like we have no time! Yet often when we force ourselves to do it anyway, the rest of the day seems to open up as if we had more time than before. How does this work?

Taking the time to focus, unblock energy channels, and breathe deeply decreases stress and helps us to gain and maintain mental clarity and calmness. Looking at the day’s tasks through this lens leads to easier identification of priorities, which means better, more efficient use of time.

Of course the cardiovascular aspect of the practice gives us more energy to get things done, while the activation of the energetic channels can augment the body’s capacity to be creative, see things through, or plan ahead – whatever may be required of a given day.

Certainly some of us have more time than others to practice. Even if you can work in ten mindful breaths each day, you are practicing yoga. You may be surprised at how much space those ten breaths create.

Space in Our Bodies

Asana, the physical poses of yoga, help to lengthen muscles by stretching them. In yin yoga, we ply apart bones and gently release connective tissue to make space for reshaping the body. Yoga poses remind us to stand tall – who hasn’t heard a crackle or two as the spine stretches and space between the vertebrae increases?

Improving our posture creates more space for the vital organs as well. When we practice chest openers, it is easy to feel the capacity of the lungs expand. Deeper, fuller breaths become possible – breaths that cleanse, heal, and create still other kinds of space.

Space in Our Minds

Perhaps the most subtle and ephemeral way yoga creates space is in our thinking. The focus on the breath and the body takes us out of our habitual pattern of believing our thoughts are who we are. The practice – be it breath-work, asana, or meditation – reminds us that everything is in flux. This includes our attitudes, values, and the way we interface with life. A full, conscious breath reminds us to investigate our preconceived notions of what should and shouldn’t be, and allows us to see space for change and growth in our own personal storylines.

This may just be the most powerful space of all.

Picking Favourites: Investigating our Yoga Pose Preferences

Many of us have a favourite yoga pose – the one that took us forever to master; the one that really made yoga “click” for us; the one that helped us heal an injury; the one that always chills us out … whatever your reason for choosing it, chances are there’s that one pose you’re excited to do every single day, whether you’re in class or at home.

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.

When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough do Yin Yoga!

Sometimes life seriously pulls the rug out from under us, and we’re not even sure we can stand up! Perhaps in stressful, traumatic times, one of the very best things you can do for your body and mind is to lie on the ground. Times like these, yin yoga can be our very best friend!

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.

The Never-Ending Winter – a Mindfulness Practice

Winter provides us with so many ways to focus our mindfulness practice. Whether it’s doing yoga to prevent falls, or breathing in the cold and fully experiencing it in all its crisp, needle-like glory, there are things to be noticed and felt that we normally find unpleasant and wish to ignore.

“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!

Let Your Body be the Leader – Home Practice for Beginners

Most of us yoga-nuts can probably agree, there is nothing more delicious than a class led by a fabulous teacher – the detailed instruction, the infusion of philosophy, the feeling of safety, the energy of the rest of the group – it can be downright magical.

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!

Chakra-Talk: A Teeny Introduction, Part One

If you’ve been to a few yoga classes, you’ve probably heard something about chakras – wheels of energy stacked parallel to our spines. Perhaps this concept instantly made sense to you, and you’ve been happily applying your chakras’ wisdom toward your physical health and spiritual growth from the moment you heard of their existence. Or maybe every time the idea comes up, your inner thought is a resounding, “Huh?”

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!

Could Laundry Be Your Yoga Practice?

“Must be nice to have all that time for yoga!” Heard that one before? Maybe from your mom, your brother, your girlfriend…or maybe from yourself. Chances are someone, at some point, has tried to make you feel guilty for devoting time to your practice.

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.

Awakening to the Practice Again. And Again.

Touched for the Very First Time

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.

When Little Injuries Teach Big Lessons

Have you ever had a little injury? We’re not talking crazy stuff here – no broken bones or major gashes. Just something little – pulled muscle, cranky shoulder, overstretched hip … These are often big enough to bug the heck out of us!

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.