Yoga Inversions for Beginners

In yoga, an inversion refers to a pose in which your head is closer to the ground than your heart. There are numerous benefits to inversions, including improved circulation, increased energy (active inversions such as handstand), relaxation (“passive” inversions such as Legs Up the Wall and Shoulder Stand), core and other muscle strengthening, and improved balance, to name a few. Admittedly, “a pose where your head is closer to the ground than your heart” can sound daunting, especially to those newer to yoga. And while it’s true that there are certain inversions, such as handstand, that I wouldn’t recommend to yoga beginners, there are certainly inversions that are more accessible. I thought I’d share some of these options here, for those who might want to try an inversion, but who may not feel confident attempting the poses more classically thought of as inversions. (Note: You’ll see at least one pose here at least that likely looks quite familiar, and if you’ve taken yoga, you’ve probably already done it!).

Before I continue with the poses, though, there are a few contraindications to inversions. While each person experiences these uniquely, you may want to consider avoiding or modifying/using caution with any of the following:

• Hypertension (especially uncontrolled/untreated) and heart conditions

• Detached retinas

• Vertigo/Dizziness/Inner ear trouble/anything else that could make you feel disoriented with your heart above your head.

• Recent dental work (such as recent oral surgery)

• If trying the pose causes pain, especially in the head/neck/spine

*Pregnancy and inversions: While it can be safe to do inversions that you’re familiar with in pregnancy, I wouldn’t recommend learning a new one, especially one with the chance of a potential fall (i.e. handstand, forearm handstand, headstand) when pregnant. If you have inversions in your practice and are comfortable doing them (and have been given no reason by a medical professional not to), then it’s not unsafe as a rule. Everyone’s experience is going to feel different, and it’s best to work with your medical/health professionals, yoga instructors, and your own experience/knowledge of your body to make decisions about your practice.

Downward Facing Dog (Adho Mukha Svanasana)

Downward facing dog is one of the most recognizable yoga poses, and it’s one that’s incorporated frequently in most Vinyasa and Hatha classes, among other styles. A few of the key cues for down dog include:

• Hands are shoulder-width apart, with either middle or pointer finger pointing toward the top of the mat (I’ve heard it both ways, I think it depends on which feels best to you).

• Feet are hips width apart

• Press down evenly into both hands and feet

• Hips (“sits bones”) lifting toward the ceiling

• Navel in and up, low ribs in (but make sure you’re not holding your breath!)

• Gaze is either between the knees or toward the navel.

Dolphin Pose

Dolphin more or less looks like a downward facing dog on the forearms. Getting into Dolphin:

• Start in Table (hands and knees).

• Bring the forearms onto the ground, palms facing down. Elbows are directly under shoulders (a good test of the placement is to see if you can grab opposite forearms, then swing the arms back out so palms are down).

• Step the legs back into a forearm plank. Press down through the hands and forearms to avoid dumping into the shoulders.

• Navel in and up, low ribs in.

• Begin walking the feet towards the head, so that you come into a slightly shortened down dog on the forearms.

• Gaze is between the thumbs.

Dolphin with legs slightly further away from the head.

Dolphin after walking feet in towards the head more.

Bridge Pose (Setu Bandhasana)

Bridge pose is a back bend that’s excellent for opening up the heart, solar plexus area, and the back body, and while it’s not often thought as an inversion, it is. It may not give quite the same ‘heart above the head’ feeling or appearance as other inversions, but it’s a great way to get some of the benefits of inversions while still feeling relatively connected to the ground. It’s also an excellent prep pose for other back bends and inversions.

• Lie on your back with your knees bent and feet flat on the floor, feet about hips width distance apart.

• Walk the feet as close to the glutes (butt) as you can.

• Wiggle the shoulder blades underneath your body.

• On an inhale, press into the feet, lifting the hips in the direction of the knees.

• Chest comes towards your chin, chin lifts away from the chest (allowing the throat to stay as open as possible).

• Thighs squeeze towards each other.

• There are a variety of hand positions. I have demonstrated two here. Clasping the hands underneath you is another popular option.

Classic Bridge arm position.

“Robot arms”: Elbows bend, hands frame hips.

Legs Up The Wall (Viparita Karani)

I’ve never heard the Sanskrit name actually used in class, but I included in case you hear it. Legs Up The Wall is a passive inversion often done at end of class (or occasionally the beginning to settle into class). While the heart isn’t technically any further from the ground than the head, the legs being well over head make this an inversion in my book. As demonstrated here, if you don’t have a wall, you can use another surface for support behind the legs, though a wall is ideal. Getting into Legs Up the Wall (or in this case, the couch):

• Sit in side profile to the wall, with one hip against the wall.

• Walk the hands behind you, and begin to bend the elbows. Begin gently lowering the torso toward the ground.

• As you do this, begin to walk the legs up onto the wall (they’ll be bent at first).

• Continue this action until you’re able to straighten your legs up the wall (butt/backs of legs are against the wall).

• Hands are usually down by the sides, palms up.

Any time you exit an inversion, even a passive one like legs up the wall, give yourself time to come up slowly, and perhaps take a counter pose. From downward facing dog, we often walk forward to a fold at the top of the mat (this is also technically an inversion!) or pull forward to a plank. From Dolphin, close legged child’s pose is a nice counter pose. From Bridge, we often move into a supine twist, move slowly back up to seated, or move into another back bend. Legs Wall is often done right before the end of class, so it’s usually easy to come out of gently and stay low to the ground. If you do it at another point of class (or on it’s own at home), I suggest bending the knees so the soles of the feet are against the wall and then slowly rolling off to one side, pausing there for a moment before fully getting up.

If you have questions about these poses or inversions in general (or anything yoga related, really) I’m happy to help! Always feel free to reach out to me via comment, email, or social media.

Leaning Into Curiosity In These Uncertain Times

This month my theme is fear, and while I didn’t intend to talk about it from the angle of COVID19 and the far reaching effects of what’s going on in our world right now, sometimes life throws you curve balls, and you change tactics. If I’m going to be totally honest, since we’re talking about fear, I’ll make a “confession”: curve balls are one of my biggest fears. (It’s probably obvious, but I’m talking about my fear of figurative curve balls here, not the baseball variety). I don’t like uncertainty. I’m a type A planner. I run a travel planning company, so I’ve literally made a living of planning. I have a Master’s in Marketing. Marketers plan stuff out. It’s also my general personality. I’m the type of person that likes to always know the next steps, and someone who always likes to be planning the next thing. When it boils down to it, I’m terrified of a lack of control.

I think this is the case for a lot of people, but for me, much of it comes from my chronic illnesses. I have a rapid mood cycling disorder called rapid cycling cyclothymia, which means that my moods can cycle between depression, hypomania, and “regular mood” (i.e. neither of the formers) as infrequently as every week or two, or as frequently as every few hours. When you literally feel like you have no idea what your brain is going to do in the next few hours and how it’s going to throw off your emotions, your attention span, your feelings about yourself (depression is not kind to self esteem, self worth, self confidence), it can be scary. In addition, I suffer from other chronic illnesses such as Migraine, arthritis, and GI issues that can flare up at any time. When your internal world, including your brain, often feel so uncertain and outside of your control, it can make that need for control of external circumstances feel even more crucial.

And yet right now, I am having to face that lack of control head on. (To be clear, we can’t actually ever control things outside of ourselves, especially other people, but often it feels like we at least have a little say in how things in our life work). Things have been changing daily, often hourly, and we’re having to acknowledge that we don’t know what lies ahead. Right now, things might be closed for two weeks. But that could change. It could be double that. It could be months. We don’t know. While I don’t currently work full time in either travel planning or yoga, these are both parts of my life and my livelihood. And yet I’m having to adjust. I cannot in good conscience encourage my clients to make new travel plans right now (I do almost exclusively overseas travel, much of it to Europe, so that’s more or less at a halt). I have cancelled my weekly Benefit Yoga Class for the next couple of weeks, because the health and safety of my participants and their loved ones (and my loved ones) is more important than the money I make from that, of course. And yet obviously, all of this affects my income, and our household income, and I have to adjust there. And we have no real idea how the course of things will go, how long these cancellations and changes to life and livelihood will last, or what the next change will be.

And I’ll be honest, all of this uncertainty is anxiety inducing. I’m not good with constant change, with not knowing how things will be one day to the next. My already anxious and cycling brain does not like it one bit. And of course, I’m controlling what I can by cancelling the classes and events I have the power to cancel, staying home unless necessary, finding other ways to connect with the people I care about. But I cannot control it all. So instead I’m leaning in to curiosity where I can. I’m curious to see how we’re able to be creative at my day job to get things done while working from home. It’s requiring lots of teamwork, and that’s actually really cool - different departments pulling together to make this all happen. In my yoga work, I’m exploring the idea of doing photo series of poses and flows that people can put together to create their own practice at home. I’m even considering videos, which truthfully terrifies me. But it’s forcing me to step out of my comfort zone and explore these options to help my students to develop a home practice, and to maybe help others to get some needed movement and stress relief/mindfulness. I’m learning, ever so slowly, to take things a day or two at a time. To have my main plan, and then some backup options in case the main plan doesn’t work out (even backup plans are tough for me, as I’m usually so set on my main plan). And I’m learning to acknowledge that even the back up to the back up plan may have to go out the window and I may end up in uncharted territory.

Is it my ideal? Not at all. Primarily because a global pandemic that puts people’s lives at risk is obviously never something I’d want, no matter how many lessons it teaches me. But I am learning a lot about myself in this. I’m learning what I, and so many others, are capable of (way more than we often think). So little by little, I’m being curious where I can, working to lean into the uncertainty instead of bristle against it and produce even further anxiety. It is the ultimate practice in the yama of Aparigraha, or letting go.

Letting Go of the Negative Stories We Tell Ourselves

Looking ahead (Atlas Mountains outside of Marrakech, Morocco).

For the last blog in my series on letting go, I wanted to write about the “letting go” that I think can potentially be the trickiest of all (or at least of the topics discussed in this series). It encompasses a bit of everything I’ve posted about this month, and it could honestly be a series of blogs on its own, in my opinion. As with each of these topics, it can be applied both on and off the mat. That topic is Letting Go Of The Negative Stories We Tell Ourselves. 

In yoga, these stories may surround our abilities, our flexibility, our body, our fears or worries (i.e. that there’s no way we could even attempt a pose because what if we fall/can’t do it/etc). And certainly, we need to listen to our bodies, to our intuition. We don’t *have* to try any particular pose. There’s no reason we need to reach our toes in a seated fold, or balance perfectly in tree, or anything like that. But so often, it’s not simply that we’re accepting where we are in the moment and saying “Today, that pose isn’t going to serve me because ...I have an injury, I need something more restorative, it simply doesn’t feel right in my body at the moment,” etc. Instead, we tell ourselves things like “I’ll never be able to do that”. “I’m not flexible enough, strong enough, don’t have good enough balance.”  We have so many stories about who we are and aren’t, what we can and can’t do, that we put ourselves at a disadvantage even if we do attempt it. Instead of going in with the idea of “let me give this a go and see how it works,'' we're going in with the idea that we’re going to be “bad” at it (in quotes intentionally, since there is no bad in a pose). Or maybe it’s that we don’t go to a class at all. Maybe you’d like to try yoga, or to try a type of yoga, but you tell yourself you can’t do it, that you’ll embarrass yourself, that it’s too hard, or whatever it is, and you stop yourself before you even get in the door. A few weeks back in a post about My Yoga Story, I wrote about how I told myself for months, or maybe years, that I wouldn’t be able to do yoga because I wouldn’t be able to be in class and not talk for a whole hour (seriously!).  Whatever the story is, that’s all it is - a story. It’s not a fact. Even if you’ve tried that form of yoga or that class or that pose before, the only facts are that you had a particular experience on that particular day at that particular time. Everything interpreted and extrapolated from that is just a story. And if you’ve ever listened to a friend or family member or coworker tell a story that gets funnier/scarier/more phenomenal with each telling, you know that stories can change. 

It’s much the same way in day to day life. We tell ourselves stories. About our career/job. About our relationships. About our skills and abilities. About what we are “good” and “bad” at, about our strengths and weaknesses. And most notably, about what all of these say about us as human beings. We interpret information, form stories about ourselves, and call those stories facts. Or maybe someone else has interpreted the information and told a story and called it a fact, and they’re convincing enough, or do this often enough, that we begin to believe them. And eventually, we are told or tell ourselves these stories enough that they become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Just as we may not try a pose in class because we’re convinced we’ll never be able to do it, and then without practice, we struggle to do the pose, the same happens in life. For example, despite being a yoga and barre and group fitness instructor, public speaking is not my favorite. I’ve always said I’m no good at it.  So I generally haven’t volunteered for things that involve public speaking. Which means I’m never going to be more comfortable with public speaking (that’s not teaching a class), and I’m always going to feel like I’m bad at public speaking. And truth is, it may be that I’m never going to be a great public speaker - we all have different skills and preferences, and I truly am an introvert that feels better behind the screen than in front of a crowd unless I’m teaching some sort of a yoga/workout class. But if I keep telling myself the story that I’m never going to be a good public speaker, chances are, I'm never going to do anything to change that perception because I’m too worried I will be bad at it, and I’ll always feel uncomfortable speaking in public. 

And of course, we are perfectly within our rights as human beings to not do something that we don’t prefer. If you just plain out don’t enjoy yoga or running or public speaking or whatever it is, unless for some reason you’re required to do it, you don’t need to force yourself to. Just like, if you really don’t want to apply for a job because it doesn’t sound like something you’d enjoy, then don’t do it.  But if you aren’t doing something, be it a yoga pose or a life thing or a career thing, because you’re worried about somehow not being enough/bad at it/etc, I’d ask you to pause before committing to not doing it. Ask yourself if your reasons are actual facts or preferences, or if they’re based off of a negative story that you’re telling yourself. Because often it’s holding on to these negative stories, not actual fact or ability, that’s holding us back. 

My Yoga Story

Photo credit: Elijah Northen

I’ve been running my yoga business and website for several months now, and I’ve been working on sharing my yoga knowledge, thoughts, goals, plans, and of course, the classes I’m teaching. But I realized I’ve started a bit in the middle of the story - I’ve started from the point of becoming a yoga instructor, and not from the point of becoming a yoga student (though please know, even as instructors, we’re still always students, and we’re always learning). I haven’t yet shared my full yoga journey, how and why I got to this point that I’m at now. I first began taking yoga approximately 14 years ago, so my journey is a bit long and winding, but I promise it’s all relevant. It has influenced my life and my path tremendously, and it has certainly influenced the direction in which I want to grow my yoga business, and so I felt it important to share.  

My yoga journey began at a time of major transition in my life. In March 2006, at the age of 26, I quit my full time job to open my own travel planning business. I was renting a storefront in Collingswood, NJ, not far from the town where I lived at the time. I was married, and the plan was that we would live on my (then) husband’s salary, and to put what I made in my business into savings until my business took off. We’d been putting my salary from my job into savings anyway, so this seemed like a solid plan. In January 2007, my husband and I separated and shortly after began the divorce process. Two weeks later, I learned that the owner of  the building where I’d had my new business for less than a year was selling the building, and had a cash offer for the full asking price. The prospective buyer wanted to terminate my lease and put a family member’s business in place. Within the span of 8 months, I was about to lose my marriage, my home (my ex husband stayed in it, I moved out), and my brand new storefront for my business (not to mention my health and life insurance and basically any steady income). The owner of the building was understanding, and seeing as I had been a good tenant so far, gave me “right of first refusal”. My family and I (but really them) had two weeks to come up with the full asking price in cash in order to salvage at least this piece of the situation. I, to this day, am not entirely sure how we (they) did it, but they managed to, and I was able to stay in my storefront. 

I spent six days a week in that storefront, and I loved running it. I had followed my dream and I was incredibly proud of myself, and what I was building. Still, I was now living alone, working for and by myself, and had stepped away from the majority of my friends group, as they’d been couple friends with my ex-husband. Suffice it to say, life was rocky, and I was questioning a lot about myself, and I was feeling a major lack of connection and community.

A few months later, I noticed that a yoga studio was opening almost directly across from my storefront. I had gone to undergrad for Kinesiology/Exercise Science, had spent five years working in corporate fitness full time, and was generally active, but I had yet to try yoga. I was intrigued, and felt like it might offer a missing piece to my overall wellness that I felt was lacking. I was also terrified. And since I’m being honest, I’m going to be totally honest - I was most terrified that I wouldn’t be able to be quiet for 60-90 minutes during class - for an introvert, I’m talkative, and as I’ve explained, was a bit company-deprived. I pictured sitting there, not able to talk to my neighbors, 1000s of thoughts swirling in my head (because they tend to do that, especially during a rough time in one’s life), and I truly thought: I don’t know if I can do it. I also pictured everyone else doing perfect yoga sequences and me falling over my feet, not being experienced. Neither of these felt super appealing to someone who was already feeling lost and struggling with self-esteem and confidence. But still, I was drawn to it. 

I emailed the owners of the soon-to-be-open studio, and I introduced myself by way of being their neighboring business across the street that was also new(ish) to the area. They were super welcoming and friendly and encouraging. We built up a rapport. I felt a little more comfortable. It was still probably a year before I finally, tentatively, ventured across the street for an hour-long gentle class. I explained that I was new. They made sure to make me feel comfortable. I don’t recall if I tripped over my feet (probably), but I do know that even if I did, nobody laughed at me. Or even stifled a laugh or looked away or anything of the like. There were yogis of all levels there. I didn’t feel out of place or silly. The focus on the breath and the movement calmed me, and I had no problem not talking for the 60 minutes (if you know me, you know this is an exceptional feat). In fact, I enjoyed the time to connect with my body and breath and, wordlessly, with the others in the room. For the first time since my marriage broke up, and truthfully probably even before that, I felt connected. 

I continued to take classes, eventually trying vinyasa and yin and kundalini and basically every class they offered. Pretty soon I was going three times a week. I made friends. Like “outside of the studio” friends. Yoga offered me a place, and a process, to connect with myself and with others, to believe in myself, to grow my confidence and courage and self-esteem. To find a community. 

Fast forward to 2013. Lots of life happened in the meantime (that was super important to me, but isn’t necessarily that I need to write about here). After running my business for seven years, I did eventually have to sell my storefront - not my business, the building - but by then had established clients, so the building itself didn’t feel as essential. This time it was a business decision, not a decision someone was making for me.  I’d moved into Philadelphia and gotten a part time job to supplement my income. I liked the job and my coworkers, but I worked on a different floor than everyone else, and didn’t have a ton of interaction except within my immediate group. Once again, I was feeling a loss of connection. I admittedly hadn’t been as great at going to yoga (I don’t have any great excuses, honestly, I let myself slack), though I tried to keep up with it at home. One day, I was sitting at my part time job at the front desk, when who walked in but the owner of “my’ yoga studio in Collingswood. We hugged, and she explained that she taught a weekly yoga class at my office on Wednesdays.. I’d heard mention of there being yoga offered, but I had no idea it was her who taught it. It was enough of a kick in the rear to get me to clear my schedule Wednesdays from 4-5PM. I started taking yoga at my office  weekly. I got to connect with other coworkers - other yoga-loving coworkers at that - and we got to interact in a non-business-officey way. I felt myself connecting with myself more. Connecting with others. Even if for just one hour a week, I had this community.  Several years in, my original teacher had to give up the class, but in her place was another amazing instructor from the same studio. “My” studio. We continued to practice together weekly for the next several years. 

Fast forward to 2018. More life happened much of it exciting. Still, I was struggling. I no longer worked at this office, and missed the comradery of my yoga group. I was also going through a lot of personal stuff, struggling with finding my place in the world once again, struggling to connect with myself and my purpose.  I was again feeling a lack of community, of connection. I was (and am still) in touch with the second teacher that taught at my office. She posted that the studio, “my” studio, was taking sign ups for yoga teacher training They’d offered it for many years, and I’d just never felt the time was right. This time, something made me fill out the application. I got accepted to the YTT program and our first weekend of teacher training started the weekend after my 39th birthday. This felt serendipitous to me - I was going to spend the last year of my 30s coming full circle, doing yoga teacher training in the studio (though the physical location has moved down the street) where I first began my yoga journey all those years ago.  For the third time in 14 years, yoga was bringing me back to myself. It was connecting me to me, and to a community of some of the most beautiful souls that I’ve ever met, which I desperately needed. It helped me believe in myself, my abilities, my capabilities. It showed me possibilities and gave me hope. It still continues to every day. 

Over the past 14 years or so, yoga has offered me what I haven’t known how to offer myself. It has helped me through some of the worst times with my mood cycling disorder and my other chronic illnesses. It has helped me through personal and life struggles. It has helped me through a several-decade long battle with body image, not because of how it’s changed my body, but because it’s helped me see the beauty in what my body does for me, in what it is and does instead of what it isn’t and doesn’t,  in how connecting my breath to movement of my body in yoga, I have been able to get through so much.

I graduated Yoga Teacher Training in May 2019. I knew when I started teacher training that I wanted to teach (not all that go through training do), and to use yoga to help others. I want to use yoga as a bridge (no pun intended - bridge is also a yoga pose) to reach those who may be struggling to find connection, either with themselves or with a community. I want others to be able to experience the belief in self, the personal (internal) strength and quiet confidence that a yoga practice can foster over time. I want to reach those who might feel the nerves and fear I felt the first time I signed up for a class, who might think they aren't flexible or active or strong enough for yoga, to help them see that none of that matters, because they are enough just as they are. I want to bring yoga to those who might be, as I was all those years ago, afraid of literally or figuratively falling over their own feet. I want  to utilize yoga to give back, through yoga benefit programs and through helping others, as yoga has given me so much. Most of all, I want to make yoga available in a way that people can experience it not just a practice, but as a process, and to help them to feel how, with time, it can extend far beyond what you do on the mat. 

Don't Be Afraid To Take Up Space

In yoga, we often remind people that it’s OK to take up space. In fact, we encourage that. On the mat, this often means making your Warrior stance wider, or letting your arms and legs reach to the edges of the mat (or beyond if there’s room!) in Savasana. The idea behind taking up space on your mat, in addition to making sure you have enough room for proper alignment within the pose, is that as humans, we often tend to shrink ourselves. As we walk through life, literally and figuratively, we’re constantly excusing ourselves or apologizing for the space we occupy, worried that we could be in someone’s (again, literal or figurative) way. We apologize for our differing perspectives and way of doing things if someone criticizes or critiques us. We apologize for being different in general. We apologize for asking clarifying questions or making requests that we have every right to make (be honest, how many times have you started communication with “sorry to bother you but…”? I know I do this constantly).  We apologize for anything that could be a minor inconvenience to someone else, even if the outcome is significantly higher stakes for us. Not only that, but when we aren’t apologizing, we’re making ourselves small. We say things like “I was just wondering if it would be OK if maybe…..”. Instead of owning that we have every right to make a decision or a request, we ask timidly ask permission, and even feel bad about asking permission. 

I’ve also noticed, at least in myself, this not wanting to take up space coming up in unexpected places. The other day, I noticed that when I write my affirmations each morning (and I do this every morning), for some reason, I try to squeeze each affirmation onto a single line, smushing my writing and abbreviating words to try to make it fit. Here I am, doing these affirmations for big dreams and goals that I hope to make into a reality, and I’m shrinking them onto one line, because …. I don’t know why. Sure, maybe it takes up an extra line or two and eventually that means needing a new notebook faster, and that could mean more paper aka trees. But realistically, one affirmation going onto the next line here or there is not going to cause a catastrophic impact. I’m simply used to trying not to take up space - even when writing out my biggest, boldest goals and dreams. I’m taking an action that is supposed to make me feel confident and in my space of personal power and I’m physically constraining it to take up less room. 

When we are afraid to take up space, literally or figuratively, whether in our speech or in our notebooks, in our requests , on our mat, when walking down the sidewalk (we have the same right as everyone else to be on that sidewalk and yet we constantly apologize for our presence in a crowd), or when we’re doing whatever we’re doing, it feeds the idea, even subconsciously, that we’re less. That we’re not worthy of that space.  Or that others are more deserving of it. But we are worthy. 100 percent. We are as worthy and deserving of occupying our space as anyone else. 

And so, I encourage you to take up space. Start small. If you take yoga, spread out on your mat a little more. When you write that email, notice if you can take out phrases like “just wondering” and “if possibly” and the like. For me, I’ve stopped trying to scrunch the dreams and goals of my morning affirmations onto one line to take up less space on the page. If it feels uncomfortable, I understand. I’m right there with you. But this month, my theme is all about getting uncomfortable in ways that help me grow. And as difficult as it can be to push past that fear, that worry, that feeling (it shows up in numerous ways) that so often holds me back, I know that each time I do this, I’m getting closer to where I want to be. 

My dog Grace, who’s never afraid to take up space on the mat (even when it’s not technically hers).

August Theme - Getting Uncomfortable

Happy August!  I don’t know about you, but it feels to me like this summer is flying by. I can’t believe it’s time for the August theme already, but it’s one that I’m excited about, in that  weird way that we feel excited when we push ourselves out of our comfort zone. I spent July focusing on being patient with the process, both in yoga and in life. August’s theme is a bit of an extension on that, because this idea of being in process feels super important and multifaceted to me, so I want to spend a little more time on it. This month, I’m focusing on getting uncomfortable. 

Before I continue, I’d like to make a few clarifications: when I say uncomfortable, I’m not talking about 1.) Pain/something that could be injuring you. Don’t force yourself into a yoga pose if it feels like you’re about to rupture something, and don’t force yourself into something in life if it feels like it’s legitimately not right. 2.) I’m not talking about letting other people make you uncomfortable (or making them uncomfortable, for that matter) in any type of inappropriate manner/way that feels wrong. I feel like this goes without saying, but I want to be really clear here. That is never OK. 

So with that disclaimer out of the way, I’m talking about the type of uncomfortable that pushes you out of complacency, or OK-ness. The kind of uncomfortable that makes you get really honest with yourself. The type that helps you grow, whether it’s in your physical yoga practice, or in life. The type of uncomfortable that we really know we should face but we put off because it’s easier not to, because letting ourselves stay comfortable doesn’t rock the boat and keeps everything status quo and it’s natural to want to stay comfortable.

Let me give an example: I am super uncomfortable speaking about my talents and skills. It feels like bragging, like I’m saying to people “look at me”, when I, in fact, strongly dislike having attention focused on me (exception: I’m fine when teaching, and I think that’s because I see it as guiding in a shared experience). But in order to grow my business, I have to tell people what I do. And I have to show them that I’m skilled at it. In the days of social media, I more or less have to post pictures, videos, evidence of me being good at it. I have to say (and show) “hey I have something valuable I can offer to you.” Whether it’s posting on social media to get people to come to classes, or it’s approaching a studio about a subbing or teaching position, or it’s posing my ideas for workplace benefit yoga to a company, I have to tell people about what I do and why I do it and how they could benefit from it.  Because I’m not going to get far in building a business that nobody knows about, or that doesn’t show potential clients the value that I can offer them. So I have to deal with getting uncomfortable. I have to share what I do, why I do it, how I do it, and my skill level/knowledge at it. I have to get past the self doubt and the impostor syndrome and the having attention on me (even from behind the screen of a computer or phone) because without clients, I won’t have a business. At least not one that’s sustainable as a part or full time endeavor. 

In yoga, it may be trusting yourself to try a new style, or a new studio, or a new pose (assuming you aren’t likely to hurt yourself or be in pain - please don’t hurt yourself!). In yoga teaching, it is, and I speak from experience here, teaching a pose you yourself aren’t super comfortable in. Yoga teacher confession time: I strongly dislike doing Ardha Chandrasana aka Half Moon pose. I might be the only yogi/instructor on the planet that doesn’t like this pose. It’s not because it scares me,or because I can’t do it. I can do the pose fine - not great, mind you, but fine. I just feel “off” in it. I don’t enjoy it. It’s like putting on an outfit that looks fine on the outside but it just feels eh and you can’t explain why. That’s how I feel about myself doing this pose. And, because of that, my natural inclination is to avoid teaching it because it’s easier to fill a classes with poses you personally love. But I also know that 1.) I can’t let my own feelings about poses limit what I offer my students and 2.) I’m never going to get more comfortable with it, practicing or teaching, if I don’t do it. So, my very first class after graduating teacher training what did I do? I put Ardha Chandrasana into my first standing flow. I made myself get uncomfortable. I made myself sit (or in this case, balance) with my uncomfortableness. And guess what? I’m OK. Nothing horrific happened. I got through it. Was it my finest pose instruction? Not sure, but probably not - it was also my first real class, so that makes it tough to tell. Was it passable. Yep!  Nobody ran out of the class or fell over due to unclear instructions or looked at me funny like I didn’t know what I was talking about. And I got past that first time of teaching the pose. I felt accomplished for doing so, and proud that I made myself go for it.

Life, and yoga, are like that. Often, it’s the poses and pieces that we most need to work on that make us the most uncomfortable. Because deep down, we know that when we avoid them, we avoid (potential) growth. And growth is scary, or at least it can be, because sometimes we have to be really honest with ourselves, and that’s not always the most fun time. 

Luckily, yoga offers us a place to practice pushing our comfort zone that’s relatively low stakes. Most poses have numerous variations and modifications that allow us to dip our toes in and get a feel for it. We have props to help us ease our way in when something feels physically or mentally uncomfortable (i.e. when we doubt ourselves, feel embarrassed, worry what we’ll look like, etc). There are beginner classes and gentle classes for those who may feel intimidated about trying yoga, or who may just want a less physically intense practice (note: I love gentle taking gentle classes myself!). And most of the time, whether you know it or not, there’s someone else in there also feeling uncomfortable, sharing in that same experience, even if neither of you know it. Maybe it’s even your instructor, teaching a pose they don’t love themselves, but value for their students.

So this month, I invite you to continue to be in the process, and to be patient with the process, by allowing yourself to sit (literally or figuratively, or possibly both) in the uncomfortable. Maybe it’s noticing when you avoid doing an unpleasant task by logging onto social media instead. Maybe it’s making excuses (oh I’m no good at that/don’t have the time/will do it later) when something makes you push beyond your usual comfort zone. Perhaps it’s an inkling to avoid teaching a pose you don’t love, or to suddenly need a bathroom break/drink of water/to step out of the room to cough/etc every time that pose comes up in a class you take. Whatever it is, take note. Even taking this pause, asking ‘why’, helps us to understand our uncomfortableness a little better. And the more we give voice to something uncomfortable, something scary, the less it becomes so. 

There Is No "Right" Type Of Yogi

One of the things I try to do on this blog,in my business, and in life in general, is to be real.  A major goal with my work in yoga is to break the traditional view of what a yogi has to be/look/sound/talk/dress/etc like, and to reach people that might not traditionally be drawn to yoga, who might feel intimidated by the traditional “yogi” image, or who otherwise might just not think yoga is for them. It’s one of the reasons I love the idea of workplace yoga (both as a teacher and a student) - you often get to reach those who might not sign up at their local studio, but who are willing to give it a try if it’s conveniently at their workplace, and if they know their are others who also aren’t super experienced at yoga. 

The thing is, there is no right type of yogi. 

You don’t have to have a certain body type. Yoga is about being present in your body. Not having a specific one. 

You don’t have to dress a certain way. Yoga doesn’t require $100 leggings and name brand tank tops.  If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve probably seen me post (non-designer) pajama yoga pics from my own practice in my living room. 

You don’t have to go to the studio x times a week (or at all) to be a yogi. You can do yoga at home (see pajama yoga comment above), at a workplace that offers it, in a park, basically anywhere that gives you the space and ability to do so. 

It doesn’t matter if you can touch your toes or do a headstand or anything like this. Yoga is a process, not a pose, and it’s about meeting yourself where you are at that time, on that day, in that moment. 

You don’t have to be all light and love and calm and harmony and happy vibes and only ever doing “yoga-like” activities. Two weeks ago I was rocking out to punk music at Warped Tour and loving every minute of it. I also spend most Sundays in the fall watching football (and occasionally saying not so calm things to the TV when my team is doing badly).  I have really bad days because I deal with genetic depression and anxiety disorders. I can be annoyed and annoying, frustrated and frustrating. None of this makes me a bad yogi, either as a student or a teacher. It makes me human. Same goes for you. 

I could give plenty more examples, certainly, but the point is, you don’t have to fit into any specific mold to be a yogi. And if you’re still really determined that there’s a way to be a “good” yogi and you want to achieve that, here’s what to do: Be a good human being. Do some yoga, somewhere, sometime. That’s all.

Me and my good friend and fellow concert lover, Cindy, at Warped Tour in Atlantic City.

July Theme - Patience and Process

Happy July! I hope you had a fantastic June, and thanks for being part of my first full official month as a yoga teacher and business. As I’ve written about, June’s theme was growing. We were getting into summer and growing our gardens. The days were growing longer. We were growing our connection with family and friends as we move into summer/vacation/outdoor gathering/etc mode. I was (and of course, still am) growing my website, my yoga business, and everything that goes along with it. I also focused on a lot of internal growth. In June, I began working a lot more with intentionality. I began focusing on being more conscious of what was going on around me, what I was doing in the moment. I began paying more attention to input from my senses - sights, sounds, the feel of the environment, smells (not always the best focus!), really consciously tasting food. I also have been working to focus on one task/activity/item at a time. It’s tough in this society of alerts and pings and texts and everything else, and I’m not great at it, but I’m getting better at it, I think. 

For July, I decided to have a dual focus, because for me, they go together nicely: Patience and Process. I’ll be real - patience is a virtue…. That I don’t have a ton of. To be clear, I have patience with people. I don’t tend to have patience with myself, especially when it comes to process. I tend to want to teleport from starting line to end result, and I don’t give myself nearly enough credit for the steps in between. In yoga class, this could be the frustration of struggling to get my body to move a certain way. I’ll work and work at something, and it’s often tough for me to notice the small improvements, if I’m still struggling with range of motion or pain in a certain position and I have to get myself out of it. (Note: don’t stay in a pose that’s causing any pain that’s not a stretching kind of pain. Yoga should not be acutely pain-inducing!). 

More often though, it’s the life process I’m not great with. For instance, in the past two months, I’ve graduated yoga teacher training, gotten my RYT-200 designation, secured a private client, gotten on a sub list at a studio, am scheduled to teach two donation based community classes for Charity at The Grant Building, and recently found out that I’ve been approved for a weekly benefit class for an organization, which I can’t yet share details of yet but am super excited about! And yet my brain is over here thinking that it’s not enough, because I haven’t miraculously in 1.5 months managed to start a full-fledged business that can pay the bills. Except that in reality, less than two months ago, I wasn’t even officially a yoga teacher!  

For me, it stems from a combination of anxiety and my general personality - the J part of my INFJ is associated with always planning for the next stage, always looking for the next steps, the next experience, the next adventure. And we can only really change so much about our inherent personality, so I’ll probably always be someone that works better knowing the plan, the next steps, working towards the next stage. But I’m trying to also help myself realize that the smaller pieces of the process, the baby steps, are still steps. They’re still part of that plan, that moving towards the next stage, and they’re necessary. And so I’m working on celebrating process, and having patience with it. It fits well into my intentional living focus, to notice all that’s going on right now, instead of jumping ahead to next, next next. 

I’ll be posting, blogging, sharing about patience and process throughout the month, both here and on my twitter and instagram. And if you’re up for sharing, I’d love to hear about the processes that you're working with and celebrating this month! 

This pose is a process for me, as you can see by my back foot turning in, and my elbow not quite hooking over my knee. And that’s all OK. I keep working on it. Sometimes it’s a little easier. Sometimes, I look like I’m taking yoga selfies in my pajamas with less than perfect form.

Five Life Benefits I've Gained From Yoga

June 21st is both the Summer Solstice and International Yoga Day. Whether or not it was intentional that International Yoga Day coincides with the Solstice, it seems fitting. Afterall, we start many of our classes with sun salutations.

In honor of International Yoga Day, I thought I’d share some of my favorite things about yoga - both taking and teaching. Obviously, everyone gets something a little different out of yoga, even within the same class. These are simply the benefits I’ve most perceived, and I wanted to share them.

• Space and time for myself. To clarify, I don’t mean that I always do yoga alone. I mean I carve out space for something that serves me. How it serves me (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, a combo of these) depends on the day, but each time I come to my mat, wherever I am, I’m making myself a priority, saying “this is my time”, and that’s something that I think so many of us do far too infrequently.

• Community and friendship. This may seem opposite to point number one, but it’s not. The beauty of yoga is that often, it’s all of us carving out time for ourselves, together. But we’re all there, together, sharing in that space, that energy. Just be being there, carving out time for ourselves, we’re coming together and supporting each other carving out time for themselves.  And sometimes, this community blossoms into individual friendships. And for this socially anxious/awkward introvert, finding “my people” can be hard to come by as an adult. So I value both the community and the friendships immensely.

• Balance. I don’t mean physical balance, though there’s plenty of that too, and they’re not my strongest suit when it comes to yoga. But more so, I mean the physical, mental, emotional, spiritual balance. My yoga practice encompases each of these, and it helps to remind me that often, daily life can get super lopsided. We’re focused intently on one aspect (work, having enough money to pay the bills, school, whatever it may be) and really, life is about balance. Yoga helps me to consciously bring balance into my life, even if it’s just for that time I’m on the mat. More and more, though, I’m noticing it off the mat as well.

• Self-Compassion. I’m often incredibly tough on myself. In addition to my type A, perfectionist type personality, I also live with anxiety and depression, which often like to emotionally beat me up. They tell me a whole host of lies about my worth, my ability, my being. Practicing yoga, and teaching yoga, has helped me to be gentler with myself when needed. Yoga reminds me that it’s ok to rest, to pause and focus on breath, to take something more restorative or supportive when needed. It reminds me that it’s enough to try my best, even if it’s not the best I’ve ever done. There’s no perfect yoga, and there’s no perfect person, and that’s all completely OK.

• Boundaries. I haven’t historically been great at setting boundaries. But especially during yoga teacher training, I had to. I spent the majority of my weekends in training, along with at least two classes a week, plus studying, papers, practicing, and more. I had to learn to say no to other things, or I wouldn’t have made it through. I had to say no to plans, commitments, activities that required more energy than I had. In yoga itself, I had to say no to certain poses when my body was taxed or my sciatica twinging, or when I just mentally needed the time to rest in child’s pose. I  had to learn to set boundaries in every aspect of my life, and now that teacher training is done, I’m learning that I’ve gotten slightly more comfortable with the concept. It’s an area in which I still have a way to go, but I’ve established the foundation, and that’s a great place to start.

Do any of these resonate with you? What benefits have you gained from yoga? I’m curious to hear. I love how yoga can offer us each our own unique benefits, and I Iove learning what it brings to others’.  

Yoga outtakes of myself and my friend Aly, who I met in Yoga Teacher Training, during a yoga photo shoot.

Growing Through Stepping Back

As I mentioned in my last couple of posts, my theme for this month is Growing. One of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is my growth while going through yoga teacher training. Of course, my physical practice grew - in my knowledge of the poses, teaching techniques, how to adjust and assist, what to look for in my own body when practicing - as well as the amount of times per week I was physically practicing yoga. While my physical practice and knowledge expanded in the way I expected, I found that my internal practice grew in the opposite manner - by learning to step back. To clarify, I don’t mean physically stepping back, as in into a lunge or Warrior pose (though there was plenty of that too!). I mean consciously pausing before going into a pose, or even a class, and asking myself “what would serve me best here?”

Throughout my youth, teenage years, and college, I was involved in competitive gymnastics. I was known as the team member that would generally just “go for things”, even if I more or less didn’t have a chance of landing it properly (the number of times I landed almost on my head or straddled the beam was startling). I loved challenging myself to do the toughest skills possible. I physically loved flipping around and I often felt more comfortable upside down than right side up. And this served me really well in competitive gymnastics, where you were awarded more points for more difficult skills, and more points meant higher scores, which meant placing higher in competition, qualifying to select competitions like State or Regional Championships, and qualifying to the next level. In addition, I was self-competitive (still am) and I always aimed to beat my own best, so even without all of the scoring and qualifying, I probably would have still gone for the most difficult skills.

So when I started doing yoga, I was one of those people that always pushed myself to go into the “most difficult” version of the pose, giving myself the most physically challenging practice I could. If there was an option to flow or stay in down dog, I flowed. If there was an option to bind in a pose, I went for the bind. I went into wheel instead of bridge or supported bridge even if my back was like “hey there lady, go easy on me today would ya?!” It wasn’t because I was trying to show off or anything like that. It’s what I knew. It’s how I’d been trained. It’s how I had internally trained myself. Physical activities have always been a strong point for me, and so I pushed myself to physically challenge myself as much as possible.  

But as I moved through yoga teacher training, and my practice expanded in all directions (mentally, emotionally, spiritually, as well as physically), I noticed something - that urge to push myself to the limit tapered. I still challenged myself, but the challenge shifted a bit - instead of “can I get into the most challenging version of this pose”, it more often became asking myself “what would really benefit me most today?”, and challenging myself to stay with that answer, even if meant resting in child’s pose while others were going through a flow, or staying in supported bridge instead of going into wheel.  The challenge wasn’t always about what would physically serve me best, either. Often, it was the mental aspect. I needed to pause and breathe to help create inner space. Other times, I chose based on my energy level. Certain poses, like back bends, can be especially energizing. So if I needed more energy, I may go into a deeper back bend - not because it was physically more challenging, but because that energy served me in that moment (i.e. 6AM classes when I had a full work day ahead of me). If I did not want to ramp up my energy, say, in a later evening class where I’d be going to bed shortly after getting home, I chose something more restorative or supportive. I still love doing inversions (I really do love being upside down) but I do them because they feel weightless to me, like the stress of life is being literally flipped on it’s head, and help me mentally - not because of the difficulty level. And even here, I always ask which version of an inversion serves me best, before I take it (legs up the wall equals awesome inversion option!).

What I found, in taking this pause, was that my yoga practice grew. Not specifically in the physical sense, though it did help my joints and muscles and any injuries recover more fully, but my overall yoga practice. My practice that extends far beyond the mat. I learned that I don’t have to constantly push myself to the limit. That sometimes, what I need - my body, my heart, my mind, my soul - is to take a breather, to be kind to my body, my mind, myself, to know that even if I can technically do something, it might not be what serves me best. And as I’ve continued to practice this in my physical practice, I’ve noticed it in other areas too. I’m working on being kinder to myself, setting boundaries where needed, on listening to my intuition and my inner knowledge, and focusing on what it’s telling me in this moment. And for me, this, truly, is what yoga is all about.

Sometimes my left knee hurts in tree pose (Vrksasana) because I don’t have full flexion there. So I frequently now opt to keep my leg lower instead of forcing myself into it.

Photo credit: Aly Gaul.

Monthly Focus: Growing

I’ve been thinking lately about how to organize the content of this blog. My business/site encompasses numerous aspects, and I want to try to tie things together as much as I can, because I truly feel each of these areas interacts with the others in some way, or at least they all have the potential to. So I’ve decided that each month, I’m going to focus on a theme. Or at least I’m going to give this a go and see how it plays out (hey, you’ll find nothing but honesty here!).  For this first month, since I’m releasing my blog mid-to-late month, this will be the “monthly plus a week and a half-ish” theme (also known as the rest of May and through June).

For this month’s theme, I chose Growing. Quite simply, seems like it fits. I’m premiering this site and my business in the end of spring as we head towards summer, and spring is the season of growth. Additionally, I’ve spent the last 9ish months in Yoga Teacher Training, and if you’ve never been through yoga teacher training, I can attest to the fact that not only do you grow your yoga knowledge immensely, but there’s a significant amount of personal/internal growth as well. And of course, now that I’ve graduated and am starting my business, I’ll be growing that.

Growth can take so many forms. We can grow our food. We can help children grow. We can expand our knowledge, our interests, our skill sets. We can grow in relationships, friendships, careers. And we can grow within ourselves. We can delve deep and get to know ourselves better, become completely (but kindly) honest with ourselves about the good, the “not so great” (i.e. the areas we’d like to work on), the quirky, the beautiful, the messy, the quirky and messy and beautiful (side note: I think this is where many of us fall). Or maybe our internal growth is more subtle. Maybe every day we take five minutes to meditate or to be in alone in nature or to do something for someone else or to do something kind for ourselves or connect with another being or tap into our creativity. Maybe it’s this small gesture each day or each week that we don’t even realize is having an impact, and then one day we suddenly feel different, even if we can’t say exactly how. We notice a subtle shift.

However you choose to focus on growth, I’m going to be right there alongside you (figuratively, unless you’re taking class or doing sessions with me, then literally), probably doing some combination of the above. And of course, I’m always here to kick around ideas or inspiration or motivation. And if you want to focus on your growth through yoga or wellness or travel or writing or anything related to what I do here in my business, well, of course I’m here for that too!

Happy Late Spring!

Maya