Month: July 2019

Some Changes Coming – INtuitive Yoga Lab

In my last two posts, I wrote about how a recent injury has made me more aware of my essential approach to yoga as well as how my own practice is having to change as a wounded yogini.

In light of my ponderings, I’m going to be slowly introducing a new class style called INtuitive Yoga Lab. This is going to incorporate the 4 essentials I wrote about in my last post:

  • Slow way way down. Then slow down some more.
  • Resistance is the opportunity.
  • Consider parts to the whole.
  • Question everything.

The goal of INutitive Yoga Lab is to make it easier for people to honor these principles by:

  1. Making yoga class accessible to various abilities at once
  2. Creating lots of space and time (and props!) within class for explorations
  3. Facilitating the discovery of a personalized movement form for each individual
  4. Helping students to further develop their inner authority and body-honoring intuition.

It may take some time for me to fully develop and refine this way of doing things, and it may take some time for students to get used to this level of self-empowerment in a yoga class, but I believe this approach is well-overdue (I mean this in general and in terms of mainstream yoga; of course, there are those who do and have been taking this or a similar approach for many years) and greatly needed.

In INtuitive Yoga Lab, there will be certain foundational movements taught in conjunction with traditional yoga postures. But overarching everything, I wil encourage an individualized, intuitive, and inquisitive movement practice. Some of the elements that will be introduced and cultivated include both traditional and non-traditional yoga:

  • Pranayama
  • Mind/Body Energy Flow
  • Concentration
  • Self-healing
  • Somatic pandiculation
  • Developmental and natural movement
  • Proprio and Interoceptive Training
  • Traditional Asana
  • Meditation
  • Voicework & Sound
  • Restorative Yoga

Indeed many of these aspects are not unfamiliar to my students already, especially those who attended my Absolute Beginners workshop. However, the way I have been delivering them is in for a change. A lab is a scientific environment in which one conducts experiments. Sometimes, important discoveries are made. Other times, things flop. On ocassion, one waits and waits for something to happen. It’s all part of life in the lab. INtuitive Yoga Lab is about giving you and your body temple safety, time and space to experiment, explore and discover your body and its interconnection to mind and spirit.

 

The Wounded Yogini Part II: Yogic Essentials

In my last post, I wrote about how a recent injury and subsequent discovery of health issues has inspired me to develop a clearer picture of my approach of yoga and how I want to facilitate it for others Today, I’d like to attempt to clarify what are for me, the most important aspects of a healthy yoga practice, particularly in relation to asana (or postures).

A Bit of Background

I was originally drawn to Iyengar yoga in my late 20’s. It was a good yoga for my 20-year-old body and helped me deal with middle back pain. I later discovered kundalini yoga in my late 30’s. It was the perfect yoga for that period in my life, too, taking me right into my 50’s. I attribute the long health of my back, despite its “issues” to kundalini practices. But when I finally took teacher training, it was in a somatic, intuitive style of yoga, definitely the fringe.

That training reintroduced me to aspects of my dance life pre-20’s. I loved incorportating those more creative elements so much that I got curious about the application of other forms of movement in my yoga practice as well, like developmental movement and martial arts. I believe we can learn more from variety, maybe because we are variety. While there are certainly great gifts in focusing well on one thing, when it comes to the body, the more variety, the more integrated we become, and the more integrated we are, the better able we are to respond to life.

So, I’m certainly neither a purist nor even a traditionalist when it comes to asana, to the chagrin of some and the delight of others.

The Point of Practice

So if we don’t have to practice only yoga poses or even every yoga pose to be a yogi, what’s the point of even having a physical movement practice?  The original point of asana was preparation for meditation. It was meant to relax the body and release tension so that deeper states of meditation would be possible. I actually do find this an essential part of practice but in addition to the ultimate goal of deeper states of meditation, asana provides other benefits such as:

  • nervous system resilience
  • the undoing and freeing of restriction
  • more connected and coordinated movement
  • improved and supportive breath
  • strength and “response” ability with ease

So then, how do we access those benefits? Following are what I consider to be 4 of the most important elements to my approach to asana:

Dielle’s Yogic Essentials

Slow way way down. Then slow down some more.

We’ve got to have time to feel every tiny articulation and connection through a movement. As experienced yogis, if we’re speeding through from one pose to the next, we aren’t likely to catch any of that. Rather, we’re reproducing stale postures from muscle memory. It’s not that that’s “wrong”, but habit and conditioning needs to be broken through now and again. Change is an inevitable part of life, and just as our bodies change day to day, so should our practice. Slowing down gives that practice juice and life and the chance to experience something totally new and unexpected. Every yoga session is best approached with beginner’s mind. Absolute beginners especially need to know that the journey is far more important than some end result. If the approach doesn’t feel right, the landing won’t either! Yes, take a run-of-the-mill beginners class, and you often see students trying to go from 0 to 60, so to speak, without moving through 2 – 59. They can’t breathe, they are tense, and their likely to hurt themselves. We have to train ourselves to go slow enough to recognize the body’s signals. Furthermore, we need a window of opportunity in front of the pain that sets in only after we hurt ourselves. If we do something without thought or automatically, sure, it may come quite easily. But we can come to regret it rather quickly.

Resistance is the opportunity.

When we come up against resistance, the  body is delivering a very clear and simple message. And no, it isn’t the message that resistance is an opportunity to push through and past it. “No pain, no gain” is a sado/masochistic mantra. Rather, resistance is your cue to “be” and “breathe”. I’ve been in classes where I’ve witnessed other students gasping for or producing labored breath in more challening poses. Nothing was said about it though they were clearly uncomfortable and efforting. The breath should always be the first clue that something isn’t going well and that the body is being pushed too far. In essence, we’ve stopped doing yoga. When we hit those places when the body says, “Stop!”, when we’ve gone as far as we can go–really even before that point–this has to be the place where we obey and honor the body. Our work is right there. If that means we’re not “doing it right”, so be it. If it means we look like amoebas instead of pristine yogis, so be it. If class goes on without us, so be it. I know it can be super challenging to just close yourself off in your own little world and repeat something over and over when that isn’t what the rest of the room is doing; it can be even more awkward when the teacher draws attention to it. But it’s not dishonoring the teacher or the other students when you take care of yourself. Rather, you’re demonstrating intergrity and inner authority; that’s yoga. It takes deep humilty to be honest in yoga class.

Parts to the Whole

I recently took a class, otherwise totally enjoyable, in which I was cued to lock my front knee. I ignored the cue. The instructor informed me how helpful it would be if I could, and when I wouldn’t, he assumed I had a bad knee and was modifying for that. I could live with his assumption…because my knees aren’t bad….because I don’t lock them! Our joints aren’t meant to be locked, bone grinding against bone, straining the ligaments and other connective tissues. They are meant to have room to respond to life’s unexpected challenges. I already know all too well from my recent discoveries how overstressing the joints results in osteoarthritis. My neck is well into the domino process of degeneration. I intend to save what’s left! This relates to an important aspect of movement: the relationship of the parts to the whole. We’re not machines with easily replaceable parts. We are whole organisms connected head to foot in numerous ways. That’s why surgery doesn’t always help but often leads to even more problems. It’s also why certain alignment cues can do us more harm than good. What affects one part affects the whole. When we don’t keep this in our awareness, we’re more likely to injure ourselves.

Question everything.

Realize that every yoga teacher teaches a combination of two things: what they have been taught and what they have discovered. In so much as they teach what they have been taught, there is a lot of room for error, misinterpretation, and the perpetuation of myths. A good example is the use of “Namaste” at the end of yoga classes, which is akin to saying, “Hello” instead of “Goodbye” when you hang up the phone. None of us are free from those little inaccuracies going back through the ages. I’ve learned things that turned out to be incorrect…whether scientifically- or merely personally-speaking. In so much as teachers teach what they have discovered, while it still may or may not apply to anyone else, at least there’s a very good chance for a deeper understanding and more effective application. The danger in any class is placing too much authority with the teacher. We’re trained all our young lives into adulthood to abdicate to authority. But perhaps the most critical issue to anyone’s yoga practice is remembering that the body, so unique in build, alignment, and expression, is the only authority. Therefore, our job as yogis is to develop our body-mind intuition and obey what is tells us.

That in itself is a life-long practice and a lesson best learned early on to avoid long-term physical issues later.

Stay safe yogis!

Words for the Soft (and Hard) Hearted

When you picture your own heart or that of someone else, what do you envision? Do you see the typical valentine heart with two symmetrical bumps in a shade of red or pink? Maybe you picture a more biological heart like a bulbous fist? Maybe you see one of those hard resin models used in anatomy classes.

I came across an amazing video the other day opened my heart imaginations to new realms. It was posted on the website of Gil Hedley, who is a Rolfer and creator of Integral Anatmony. If you can stand the science of dissection, there are actually several interesting videos available. While my initial reaction is always a gag reflex, fascination soon takes over. The video that changed my life was called “Beautiful Fluid Human Heart”. In it, Hedley palpates a human heart to show that it is not a rigid structure, but more akin to a soft little bean bag. We all know the heart is a very strong muscle, and when it is living and engorged with blood, pumping away, then yes, it is a firm, tensile organ, but with no life left in it, it is a truly tender thing.

I actually cried as I watched the video because it totally shot my perception of the heart to pieces and in so many ways. You see, my mother suffered congestive heart failure, and I’ve often wondered if I would endure the same fate. I always had this idea in my head of a guarded heart, one struggling to push on. Throughout my life, my head has been filled with notions of “a hardened heart”, “broken” hearts and closed-off hearts afraid to love. I even adopted spiritual practices to “open my heart” and clear the heart chakra because I was told, and believed, that there was something wrong with mine. I practiced the work, but in my mind, there was always this association of having to change the state of my heart and overcome its failings. I think what hit me most when I watched the video was that it is a physical reality that our hearts are soft little sacs. It’s the physical truth…before any work, spiritual or otherwise, be done.

With this newfound appreciation of my heart’s tenderness, I have a different relationship with not only my own heart, but that of others. This idea of a hard heart…it simply isn’t the truth. Underneath it all, we are all soft-hearted by our very nature. Compassion and Universal Love are our birthright. We simply need to remove all the mistaken impressions that keep us from this realization.

And if the heart only becomes tensile with life in it, then that tension is part of life. It too is natural. Constriction and softening are two sides of that same force required to give life. One is not better than the other. They work together. When there is only one and not the other, the physical heart cannot live on.

In June of 2018, I discovered the contemplative work of The Gene Keys by Richard Rudd. If you are familar with that work, then you likely already see the connection this insight has the potential to give. This video has blessed me with a profound understanding of not only Gene Key 25 (Constriction/Acceptance/Universal Love) as described above, but it has also helped me deepen my relationship to the 29th (Half-heartedness/Commitment/Devotion). I realized that half-heartedness was living in fear of the natural contraction/expansion dance of life. To live with a full heart is to accept both and let the veil of duality drop. The commitment is to all of life…a full life…and both states of a living heart.

The Wounded Yogini

You may be familiar with the term “wounded healer”. The idea is that one has to go through his or her own healing journey in order to be able to help someone else. For the last month, I’ve been a wounded yogini after a fairly innocuous warm-up left me with an odd feeling in my left upper quadrant with radiating, tingly pain down my arm into my fingers.

The warm-up was nothing that “should” have injured me. However, due to pre-existing conditions, it was enough to get my attention. And really, it’s a good thing, because if I hadn’t of been made aware of the state of my neck, which I’ll get to in a moment, I could have done even more serious damage.

I took a trip to the doctor, something I really dislike. My generalist is also a chiropractor, and while in ordinary circumstances, that would have been helpful, in my case, it probably wasn’t. He adjusted me and successfully corrected the numbness in my last two digits, but then the problem moved to my index finger, which is another nerve entirely, and has been there ever since.

The diagnosis has been somewhat unexpectedly complex. After the requisite x-rays and an MRI, it was discovered that I have several issues (and probably should not have been given an adjustment at all!): reverse curve; at least one herniated disk contributing to my current thoracic outlet syndrome, which is the pain down the arm into my finger; cervical stenosis or a narrowing of the space around the spinal cord; and osteoarthritis. OH MY!

Now, as a person who loves to move, this isn’t terribly exciting news, but as a former costume character dancing in costumes that exerted incredible weights on the head, it’s not entirely a surprise either! Nor is it the end of the world. Yes, I have to make some changes to my personal practice and teaching methods, some for the time-being and others longer term.

The good news is, that while I couldn’t even type with my left index finger two weeks ago, now I can. So there’s definitely improvement to the acute issue. I’m also fortunate enough not to need any pain medication (despite the lunch sack of prescriptions my doctor attempted to give me). Gentle stretching, herbal remedies, kineseotaping, “scientific healing affirmations” as taught by Paramhansa Yogananda, and essential oils have so far been enough, and for that I am incredibly grateful.

In regards to my yoga practice, three things come to mind:

  1. yoga is so much more than the asanas, some of which I will never be able to do again…and that’s okay
  2. this experience is helping me to redefine and clarify “my yoga” and how I want to share it
  3. I’m now better equipped to help other people with similar issues to do what they can without exacerbating a condition

In this post, I want to talk solely about the first point and leave the others for another time.

It’s interesting. In learning about my conditions, I have come across a lot of writings by other yoga teachers or people who wanted to be yoga teachers describing injuries that either shut them down or forced them to change their approach to yoga. Those that loved yoga for its purely physical aspects definitely have a harder time coping with injury. I consider myself blessed to know that yoga is not just about asanas or postures. Yoga is about right lifestyle and developing resilience. It’s about the breath, concentration, meditation, absorption, and ultimately, liberation. Fortunately, the only aspect of my yoga that will need to adapt is the asana aspect. And considering my style of yoga was already very somatically inclined, and more about the intuitive, interoception than the pose, perhaps it won’t have to change all that much.

Given my diagnosis, I know for at least the time being that I shouldn’t be jumping up and down, nor should I perform twists towards the side of the injury. Away is fine. Nor can I lie supine without neck support. For now, I also need to stay away from poses that put undo pressure into my arm or shoulder such as downdog and plank. While backbends would likely be helpful for my herniated disk, the arthritis and stenosis would preclude me from doing any, at least in the fashion that traditional yoga teaches. Certainly, I won’t want to bear any body weight on my head or neck, as in plough pose (a favorite) or headstand (which I never did anyway!), and I need to be mindful with arms overhead. Forward bends are a go, though. Woohoo!

Here also is where I am grateful that my movement practice has never been limited to yoga. Certain energization exercises (as taught by Paramhansa Yogananda) and somatic exercises are still good as are some developmental movement explorations. I can also indulge in restorative poses, nerve glides, chi gong, tensegrity, and pranayama (of course!).

Whatever I do do, I just have to practice what I always preach: work slowly, let the body lead, and honor your limitations. Going through this is making me a master of pose modifications and variations, which leads more into my third point above about being a better teacher. Though I just realized, I hate that word, ‘teacher’. I want to be more of a facilitator to movement exploration.

So there it is. That’s where things currently stand for this wounded yogini. Stay tuned for more posts about my personal yoga theory and upcoming changes to my classes this Fall.

 

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