Yoga Hip Openers for Everyone

For those of us that spend large amounts of time sitting during the day - commuting (remember when we did that?), at the computer or desk, etc - it’s easy for the muscles around the hips to get tight. This can lead to discomfort in the hips of course, but can also affect other areas - when muscles in the hips are tight, it can affect how we stand, our gait, the way we move and transition between positions (sitting to standing and vice versa). These changes can impact our knees, our low back, even as far down as our ankles and feet. It’s also said that we hold a lot of our stress in our hips, and that by easing the tension in our hips, it might help with stress we didn’t even realize we were holding onto. So suffice it to say, keeping the hips free of as much discomfort and tension as possible is important. 

Yoga asana is full of options for opening up the hips. You can find hip openers in seated poses, standing poses, standing balances, and even inversions. For this post, I wanted to include hip openers that I felt could be practiced at home, and (many of which) have multiple variations, so that you can adjust to what feels best in your body in the moment. While none of these poses require props (other than a mat ideally), you can certainly use them if you have them, and I’ll try to offer some places where you could add them in.

Baddha Konasana

Baddha Konasana, or bound angle pose, is a great hip opener to start with because it’s a seated pose, and there aren’t too many “moving parts” (i.e. right hand here, left foot there, etc). 

• Sit with your hips evenly on the floor (or a blanket), knees bent toward the ceiling, feet flat on the floor. 

• Bring the soles of your feet together, letting the knees fall gently out to the sides. 

• Your feet can be closer into the body, or further from the body, depend on what feels best to you. 

• Inhale lift the chest; exhale hinge forward at the hips, keeping the sits bones on the ground, the back flat, and the neck long. 

Supta Baddha Konasana

This pose is a great way to start or end (or both) your practice. It’s like baddha konasana, but you’re lying on your back. Start lying on the back, knees bent, feet flat on the floor. Bring the soles of the feet together, letting the knees gently fall out to the sides. Arms: I suggest by your side with palms up, overhead, on the heart and/or belly.

If you have props, you can put a blanket or block under each thigh/knee. This helps bring the ground up to meet you, and can help with feeling strain on the knees or hips in this pose. This can be especially helpful in the beginning of practice, when the muscles and joints may not be as warmed up and therefore feel tighter. 

Lizard

Lizard is a lunge variation with an emphasis on opening up the hips, chest, and fronts of the shoulders. 

• From lunge, wiggle your front foot to the outside edge of the mat. 

• Bring both hands to the inside of the foot. 

• Lizard variations: back knee up or down; on hands or on forearms; coming onto the outside (pinky toe) edge of the front foot. 

Lizard with back knee lifted, on forearms

Lizard with back knee down, palms on the ground.

Photo Credit: Aly Gaul

Malasana

Malasana or Garland Pose (some people call it yogi squat) can be tricky on the knees, so if going all the way in doesn’t work for you, you can stop lowering down about half way and do a catcher's squat instead.  A good guide is your heels - if they lift off the ground in malasana, raise your hips back up to a catcher’s squat. 

• Bring feet as wide as the mat

• Begin to lower the tailbone down toward the ground

• Keep the chest open; hands can come to heart center

Pigeon

Pigeon, or (say it with me now) Eka Pada Raja Kapotasana, is one of the most diverse hip openers in my opinion, because there are numerous ways to do this pose - upright, with a bind, folding forward, supine (all pictured here), and while it’s not technically the same pose, Standing Figure Four is basically a standing variation of Pigeon. There’s also a “flying” version (an arm balance) that isn’t pictured, but if you really want to see what it looks like, you can view me attempting it here. In fact, this video also includes Standing Figure 4) .

For purposes of this post, I’m going to describe the upright/folded forward versions. I generally enter into pigeon from either a 3-legged dog or table, though there are other ways. I’ll describe as if you’re going in on the Right side. 

Pigeon: Upright, With bind, Folded, Supine

• Bend the right knee toward the chest

• Bring the right shin parallel(ish)* with the front of the mat, ankle behind left wrist, knee behind right wrist

• Left leg extends straight out behind you (make sure that back foot isn’t turning in or out)

• Hips are as square as possible to the front of the mat. 

• If you’re staying upright, hands come to the outside of the hips.

• If you’re folding, begin to walk the hands forward, possibly coming onto the elbows or bringing the chest toward the ground.

• If folding forward, you could also come down onto blocks, a folded blanket, or even a bolster to bring the floor closer to you.

*For many hips, shin parallel to the mat doesn’t work well or is painful. If it’s better for your body, take the right knee wider, towards the edge of the mat, and pull the right heel more toward the mid-line of the body (toward the belly button). 

Goddess

Goddess is the only standing hip opener on today’s list, though there certainly are others. I chose Goddess for this post because, while it’s by no means an easy pose, the concept is simple, and it’s pretty easy to grasp from the photo. 

• Facing the long side of the mat, step your feet wide (wider than hip width) 

• Heels turn in, toes point to out, toward the corners of your mat. 

• Arms come to a “goal post” position. Shoulder blades pull together on the spine.

• Bend the knees, making sure the knees are going out over the toes (if the knees are inside the toes, turn the toes in slightly). 

• Navel in and up; low ribs in

Frog Pose

Frog can be a pretty intense hip opener, and it can be a little tough on bad knees, so if you have knee trouble, please be careful with this one. I suggest doing frog facing the long side of the mat, because it allows for padding under both knees. You can always put blankets, blocks, or a bolster in front of you if using props.

• Start in Table, and then widen the legs so that they’re wider than hip width 

• Lower down on the elbows, and let the hips begin to sink down. You may need to gently inch the knees further apart

• Knees are bent 90 degrees, so ankles should be in line with knees (behind you). Feet are flexed, pointing toward the outer edges of the mat.

• If it’s accessible to you, begin to lower the chest down, arms out in front of you

There are plenty of variations and modifications within these hip openers, as well as different versions. You can add in binds and twists to several of them. You can use props to raise hips or pad knees, or to bring the ground closer to you. There are also plenty of hip openers not included in this list. If you’re interested in more hip openers, or variations/modifications/prop use with these, feel free to ask - I’m happy to offer what I can!

Delving Into Insecurities As I Grow My Virtual Yoga Offerings

Content Warning: Body Image/BDD/Eating Disorders

If you follow me on social media, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve been posting an increasing number of yoga videos. I also recently started a yoga video library on Vimeo, which is currently not yet publicly available, but which I did make available to my newsletter subscribers this month. In addition, I’ve been teaching my weekly benefit class via zoom. Suffice it to say, in the past month, I’ve seen a significant number of videos of myself. And I’m going to be honest - it’s not easy for me and it’s bringing up a ton of insecurities. 

At first, I was nervous to share my videos because they were definitely the “made at home in my living room with my phone or laptop” variety. Because I live in a one bedroom condo and do not have a home yoga setup per se, I’m propping up my phone or laptop with books on top of a kitchen island stool and having to move furniture out of the way in order to have enough room. If I use my laptop (zoom video downloaded) the audio is iffy. If I use my phone, often the video is a little crooked or I’m closer than I’d like to be to the camera because of spacing issues. With either, the lighting isn’t perfect and there’s always a good chance that my dog wanders in and out, though to be honest that part I think is kind of cute. And all of these things have made me a bit nervous to share the videos at large, though lately I’ve started sharing the shorter ones on social media a bit more. 

But regardless of the lighting and spacing and wandering dog and audio issues and all that, there’s another factor that I’m really struggling with: I am extremely self-conscious about seeing myself on video. I have struggled with body image issues basically my entire late teen and adult life. In my 20s, I suffered from eating disorders. While not officially diagnosed, I strongly believe I suffered from Body Dysmorphic Disorder. Negative thoughts about my body used to consume me, and my body image felt intrinsically tied to my self worth.  I’ve not actively battled eating disorders in about twelve years, and I’ve come a long way with my body image, but I still struggle with the latter, especially when my depression or anxiety are rearing their heads. And while I do not by any means judge others based on their bodies, and I know that my body does not actually mean anything about who I am as a person, I have always struggled with self-worth, self esteem, and confidence in general, and these creep into many areas of my life. It feeds into my insecurities, which are plentiful. 

When I see myself on video, I tend to over-analyze everything (also just a general tendency of mine in life, unfortunately). I’m particularly self-conscious about the fact that my stomach area always curves out slightly, partly because that’s just how it is, partly because I have strong curves in my lower back which tend to make me stand with my belly pushed out a bit, and partly because I have an abnormally high belly button/waist (seriously) so yoga pants, even the high waist ones, tend to fall right in the middle of that already rounded belly area, making it look even more pronounced. I’m also self-conscious about my posture. I notice, particularly as I’m walking into and out of the video (which I cut out because nobody needs to see that anyway), that my shoulders are hunched forward. It’s as if I’m a walking apology for the space I take up. Like I don’t actually believe in the video I’m about to make, even though I know I’m a good instructor, that people have told me they like my videos, and on the mat teaching is one of the few places I actually do feel generally confident in my abilities.I walk into and out of the video as if I don’t actually deserve to be taking up that space.  Even though nobody sees this part of the video, it gets to me - I do not want to be a walking apology for my existence, to move as if I do not deserve the space I occupy.. Nobody should be a walking apology for their existence or physical presence in this world. 

And finally, there’s my voice. I hate hearing myself. I don’t like recording voicemails because I hate how I sound, despite the fact that my former company had me record all of the phone greetings for the whole office, so my voice must not be that bad. But I’ve always been self-conscious about it. I’ve spent 40 years being told I talk too fast, too loud, too much (all unusual for a strong introvert, I know). I anxious-babble and ramble. My creative brain delves into stories and gets off track and goes on and on and then I get terribly embarrassed and assume I’m annoying everyone. Granted, I don’t tend to do these last two in class. I actually try to be pretty straightforward when I teach, especially when everything’s virtual and cueing is extra important because we can’t adjust and assist, and it’s tougher to see demonstrations. But still, a lifetime of wanting to stick my foot in my mouth and shrink into the corner doesn’t just vanish. Luckily, one advantage of a lifelong loud talker is that I’m able to project my voice even via zoom, and hopefully this assists my students in being able to hear me clearly. But still, I’m self-conscious. 

I say this all, because I think it’s an important message, in general, and especially in the world of yoga where pictures of supermodel-looking people doing impossible-looking poses in bikinis on the beach at sunset can make others feel that yoga isn’t for them, that they can’t do yoga, that they’ll never be ‘good enough’ at it, that you have to be or act or feel a certain way to do a yoga, to be a yogi.  And you don’t. Plain and simple. .Not at all. Maybe the bikini supermodel sunset someone’s reality and that’s fine if that’s who they truly are, but it’s certainly not mine. I also think it’s important because in yoga we talk a lot about accepting where we are, and letting go of expectations, and being in the present. And those are all focuses of yoga. But I don’t want anyone to think that if they aren’t there yet, that they can’t do yoga, that they aren’t a “good enough yogi” (there’s no such thing). I’m a yoga teacher, but I certainly don’t have it all figured out, and I don’t have to.  There’s a reason yoga is called a practice. It’s not something to perfect. It’s not an end goal. It’s a process, always. A continual practice. Even as a teacher I am still always a student as well. I am an imperfect human being with flaws and insecurities and struggles first and foremost. I’m a yoga teacher second (actually I’m a wife and daughter and sibling and friend second, but you get the point). 

Taking my yoga business online has been a challenge, and while I obviously don’t lilke the reasons for it (i.e. global pandemic), I’ve welcomed the chance to grow and develop myself and my practice and my teaching in a way I definitely hadn’t imagined.  I like the opportunity to experiment with various formats, different ways of bringing yoga to people. I enjoy reaching into these options with curiosity. Bringing my teaching online has allowed me to practice with people who can’t logistically make it to my live classes. I’m excited to continue to grow this aspect of my business (which is, right now, all of it!). There are also my own personal challenges. I’m having to let go of my tendency towards perfectionism, and to do the best I can with what I have and where we are as a society in this moment (i.e. staying at home). I’m having to delve insecurities - about my body, my voice, the way I carry myself - that have plagued me for years. I’m battling, as always, my fears of being rejected, of failing, of my efforts flopping spectacularly, which is all more visible to everyone when those efforts are out on social media. But for the first time in a long time, I’m able to see past those fears. My desire to help others through yoga, both on and off the mat, is stronger. My pull to be of service in some way, to offer what I can, especially with what we’re all experiencing now, is greater. I know it’s not saving the world or fighting COVID or keeping people fed or keeping society running, but it’s what I have to offer. And if I can help people take a break from stress, or get some physical relief from pain or discomfort by moving their bodies, or help people connect with themselves or community or something greater, or if I can raise money for causes helping others through benefit yoga, than that’s wonderful, and I’m willing to deal with the insecurities and doubts and fears to do so. 

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.