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One of the most hesitantly attended workshops I offer is coming up this Friday… and I have a feeling you already know which one it is—because you might be sitting on the sidelines wondering if you should sign up.
Yes, that is right: The Hip Opener Workshop is happening this Friday. (Yes, it will be on zoom, yes, you don't have to be experienced, yes, you are going to learn something valuable and really cool, yes it is just right for you!) In this workshop we’re going to get to know our hips a little more… intimately. Most of us sense that something in our hips feels “stuck” somewhere in our hips—maybe even everywhere. But here’s the real question: Is that stuckness coming from tightness or weakness? And yes—it matters. Understanding the difference changes everything. It guides you toward the right kind of “homework,” helps you choose supportive therapeutic approaches, and ultimately gives you a clearer relationship with your own body. Because the truth is there’s a lot going on in the hips. They’re designed to be incredibly mobile (at least, in theory), and with that potential comes complexity. It’s easy—but not very helpful—to simply say, “my hips are tight.” Are they tight from too much movement… or not enough? Do you feel restriction when you contract a muscle—or when you stretch it? Is there discomfort in rotation, flexion, extension? You don’t need to memorize anatomical terms. But it is helpful to know something like: “It hurts when I do this, it feels like a burning sensation, and when I stop it goes away.” That is just an example, your experience may be completely opposite. You may know the old joke: “Doctor, it hurts when I do this.” “Then don’t do that anymore.” Simple advice… but are you actually willing—or able—to follow it? Not me! Not when I am using my hips almost constantly when I am awake and yes, even asleep. In this workshop, you’ll learn how to better understand your hips and even how to talk about them (if that ever becomes necessary) with your doctor, PT, massage therapist… and yes, your yoga teacher. You’ll also walk away with simple, practical things you can do at home to restore mobility and support your body. This pelvis—this remarkable structure that allows us to walk upright—is part of what makes us human. And like most things human… it’s a bit complicated. Let’s clear up some of that confusion together. So stop just sitting on your hips and learn new ways to use them. Register today!
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A few weeks ago I started noticing a tightness on the outside of my pelvis. I thought I knew exactly what to do—some standing abduction work to tease it out, some TRE, and long-held stretches. I stayed consistent, and it started improving. Victory! I had found a helpful combination of movements to address a problem, even though I had no idea what caused it in the first place—and honestly, I was more interested in finding a way out of this new tightness than anything else.
Then came St. Patrick’s Day. I never go out for this. holiday, but an old friend was playing music and a group of people were going, so there I was in a bar with live Irish music. My old Irish step-dancing self got excited, and I started doing a few jigs—enthusiastically, if not skillfully. The next day? I could barely walk. It turns out that the hopping in Irish step dancing was not what my hip needed. My fascia retracted faster than I could have imagined, and it was far tighter than I could have ever imagined. Surprise! So, I went back to basics: heat, anti-inflammatories, and a visit to my MFR provider. Before my appointment, I dug in to my own self-treatment—gentle movement, rest from extreme exercise, and heat. The session helped tremendously, and soon I was better than I was before my enthusiastic dancing. The real test came the following Saturday: I went dancing again—this time it was disco, which in my professional opinion is far kinder to the body than irish step, and I was completely fine. Around the time all of this was happening, I sent out the Spring Special without much explanation, so I wanted to circle back and share the context. What helped me recover was not one single thing, but a combination of things, and that is what I am offering this spring. We don’t always need to know the exact source of a problem to start healing. What we need is a way out of pain and back into functionality. When I was growing up, my dad could fix almost anything. We were lucky—our house had a free handyman. But when something went wrong with the very old cars we always had, we took them to a mechanic. There was no fooling around. He knew his limits, and more importantly, he knew who to call. I felt confident managing my hip on my own—until I needed another set of hands, and a little assessment. You have heard me say this before: you don’t have to know how to do it; you just have to know who to call. This spring, I’m offering sessions that combine fascial release and TRE when appropriate, targeted at-home exercises, and other forms of self-care—including meditation or spiritual mentoring if that part is needed, because sometimes it is. These approaches work together to help you get back on your feet—physically and mentally and spiritually. You don’t have to know exactly what’s wrong or which modality is best. That’s my job. You just have to know who to call. (Or in this case, who to email.) If you’ve been thinking about booking a session… this might be the time!
I recently attended an advanced Myofascial Release workshop, and I came home with a deeper understanding of the pelvis than ever before. Here’s one of the fascinating things I learned: many of us are walking around with a right anterior pelvic tilt and a left posterior pelvic tilt. In simple terms, one side of the pelvis tips forward while the other tips backward. That means the foundation of the body — the very base we stand on — is twisting in two different directions. Our bodies are going to compensate for that. What might that look like?
Muscles grip. Fascia thickens. One side works harder than the other. Over time, that compensation becomes your “normal.” What might be the causes of that asymmetry? Old injuries. Falls you barely remember. Habitual ways of standing. Carrying babies on one hip, or heavy bags on one shoulder. Driving. Stress patterns. Even the way we cross our legs. The beautiful thing is this: the body wants balance. When given the right input, it unwinds. And there is so much good that can come from a consistent yoga asana practice. We truly can change our bodies for the better. If you add to that a TRE practice, you can open the soft tissue and shift the nervous system in dramatic and meaningful ways. Sometimes, though, if you have a very old injury — one that has been re-injured over the years — or a structural imbalance that has never really been addressed, the soft tissue is no longer so soft. It has adapted. It has braced. It has organized itself around protection. In those cases, it often takes consistent re-patterning and, at times, an external nudge — hands-on work that might feel like melting — to remind the tissue of another possibility. Dr. Bercelli would often say that injuries that occurred in relationship need to be healed in relationship. That’s something we experience when we gather for a yoga class or tremor together in a group. There is something regulating and reparative about not doing it alone. I never asked him exactly what he meant in strict TRE terms. But when I reflect on the harm that separation on any level causes, it suggests that much of our healing must address that sense of separateness. We heal in connection. Which is why it matters that you trust and genuinely like your doctor, your therapist (of any kind), your teacher, your partner. Healing happens best in relationships that feel safe. If you’ve been saying, “I really should come in,” consider this your gentle nudge. Sometimes the neck pain, the shoulder tightness, or the stubborn low back discomfort isn’t where the problem starts — it’s simply where the body is asking for help. And often that help needs to be offered by someone outside of your body and mind. In our Yoga Sutras class, we’ve been exploring the suffering that arises when things are not the way we want them to be.
Isn’t that… most of the time? Eighty percent, if we’re lucky? Yoga doesn’t teach us how to guarantee that life unfolds according to our preferences. It teaches us how to work skillfully with our emotions when life unfolds the way it inevitably does — which is often not how we planned. I used to think (and truthfully, still do) that yoga is magic. That it makes the impossible possible. But not because it rearranges the world around us. The magic is subtler than that. Yoga doesn’t shapeshift circumstances. It shapeshifts us. It softens our rigid desires. It loosens our aversions. It gently reshapes what we cling to and what we push away. And what happens when those inner shapes change? Oddly enough… nothing. That’s the point. The outer world may remain exactly as it is. But we remain steady. Even. Centered. Able to admire what is, not just what we hoped would be. This is resilience. Not hardening. Not bracing. But the quiet capacity to meet life as it arrives. Resilience requires self-care. It requires self-study. It requires the willingness to look inward. Yes, it can seem selfish to take that time. But the truth is, when we are steadier, kinder, and less reactive, everyone around us benefits. That might be the real magic after all. Yoga for Back Care is Coming Around Again And soon after, Yoga for Osteoporosis will return as well. Why do I offer all of these specialty classes? As many of you know, in addition to teaching group classes, I also work as a yoga therapist. And over the years I’ve seen something, which you have probably seen as well: group classes can be a mixed bag. You might heal something; you might hurt something. Traditionally, all yoga asana practice was therapeutic in its intention. It was designed to be adapted to the individual and taught one-on-one, so that the poses fit the person—not the other way around. That is not the way we do it here these days. Now we often practice in rooms with 5, 15, sometimes 35 other bodies. None of those bodies are programmed exactly like yours. And what about the teacher’s body? It is most natural for a teacher to guide from their own embodied experience (and who can blame them?). But that can sometimes leave you trying to fit your body into a shape designed from someone else’s blueprint. This past week I had a fascinating experience in class that I think relates. As many of you know, I rarely pre-plan my classes. (If I do, it may not be relevant to the people who actually walk through the door.) I wait. I see who comes. I listen. And the practice reveals itself. (People sometimes ask me, “Where do you come up with this?” Quite honestly, it shows up in the moment.) In this particular class, I was “shown” a pose using a prop. The intention was to create a strong hamstring contraction. What happened was that students who tend to have cranky low backs reported that their backs felt really good with this modification. Others felt the stronger hamstring work I originally intended. And some felt no significant difference at all. Same pose. Same room. A bunch of different experiences. It became clear to me that this was a specialty modification. For certain bodies—especially those with low back sensitivity—it is going to allow them to strengthen their hamstrings (so important for supporting a happy low back) without aggravating the SI joint. Yay! This is an amazing tool. But it is probably not something I will use in a general class because it requires wall space, enough blocks, and the time for people to move around and off their mats. Those conditions will not always be found in a regular class. But it will absolutely find a home in a Back Care series. And this is exactly why specialty classes matter. They create space for nuance. They allow for intelligent, therapeutic application. They give you time to ask questions and really understand why, when, and how to apply the asana. They help you work with your body rather than against it. If you’ve ever felt unsure about whether yoga is “right” for your back, your bones, or your specific needs, these classes are designed with you in mind. I personally love to teach these and watch people begin to understand how their body is programmed. Stress is in the air.
There’s a lot of conflict, chaos, and a general sense of being unsettled right now. No matter who you follow, what you believe is right, or what you think is fair, it’s hard to escape the divisions woven into daily life. They show up everywhere—at the dinner table, on our news feeds, and yes, even during the Super Bowl. Your team. My team. The team. This sense of separation feels especially sharp right now. And it leaves many of us wondering: How do we soften the edges? How do we become more resilient, more accommodating, more capable of sitting inside discomfort without escalating it? How do we de-escalate situations—old ones with our families of origin, and new ones popping up every time we open our phones? I wish I had a simple, one-size-fits-all answer. Believe me, if I did, I would have shared it long ago. What I can share is an insight that became very clear to me during my recent time in Portugal. Being in a country where I barely spoke the language, navigating a different culture and sense of timing, encountering emergencies, storms, flooding, and nearby destruction—I saw just how much my practice has quietly prepared me for resilience. I managed, for the most part, to keep my head on. There were moments of intense stress when I couldn’t get myself unstuck. And I count it as part of my practice that I was able to listen and follow my partner when he recognized that I was frozen and unable to make a good decision. We don’t always have to know what to do—but knowing who to listen to, and when, is essential. So this is what I can offer you: do your practice. Whatever it is. Whatever discipline you follow. But here’s the important part—you can’t just make it up as you go. Find something with a proven track record. When the nervous system is overwhelmed, it will short-circuit even the best intentions. This is why the first step is always listening to your nervous system. Sometimes it’s saying, “I’m in the weeds. I need outside assistance.” That message is not weakness—it’s wisdom. You can’t muscle your way out of it, rationalize it away, or ignore it. It’s a gift to hear it, and it becomes your responsibility to respond. Trust me on this: those messages get clearer the more time you spend stepping outside your habitual thought patterns—seeking the divine, your true essence, God, the Creator, whatever language resonates for you. Yoga practice reminds us that the path to higher consciousness—meaning peace, openness, and a regulated nervous system—comes through steady, consistent practice over a long period of time (Yoga Sutras 1.12). That’s it. No specific pose. No mantra count. No checklist. Just show up regularly, with sincerity, over time. It is never too late to begin. If you’d like to start that conversation with your nervous system, join me on Wednesday for the TRE class. You may find that those messages become easier to hear—and easier to trust. Thinking About a More Compassionate Thanksgiving? Try a Vegan Dish
For many people, the idea of cooking vegan or even mostly meat-free for Thanksgiving brings up a whole bundle of fears: “What if it doesn’t taste good?” “Will there be enough protein?” “What would I even make?” If that sounds familiar, you’re definitely not alone. There’s a lingering myth that vegan food is bland, complicated, or just basically, not good. But anyone who has tasted a well-spiced curry, a creamy dairy-free dessert, or a hearty lentil dish knows—flavor doesn’t come from animal products. Flavor comes from creativity. One of my favorite places to find that creativity is Holy Cow Vegan. Their recipe index is enormous—comfort foods, global dishes, and a treasure trove of Indian recipes that are naturally rich in plant-based protein. I use the site constantly, sometimes just for inspiration, sometimes I follow the recipes exactly, and not just for Indian dishes. I use their rubarb crisp recipie for all the rubarb my husband grows. Also the biscuts, muffins and lentils loafs are amazing. You can make something vegan for your family without telling them… and they probably won’t know the difference. Seriously! A beautifully seasoned lentil loaf, a silky mushroom gravy, or a spiced vegetable biryani can sneak right into the Thanksgiving lineup and hold its own. Choosing even one vegan or vegetarian dish this year may seem small, but it truly matters. Every meal that sidesteps the harmful practices of the meat industry—just a little—adds up to less suffering, fewer emissions, and more awareness. It’s a loving act for the planet, for animals, and yes, even for your own body. So if you’ve ever been curious, this Thanksgiving might be the perfect moment to try something new. Explore a recipe, taste something unexpected, and bring a bit of compassionate creativity to the table. Of course many of us have our traditions that have come to us from our parents and grandparents. Maybe it is time for your generation to sneak in a traditional dish as well, one that aligns with the times we live in and the climate crises we are facing. Who knows? Your new favorite holiday dish might just be the one without the turkey. 🥕💛 Here are some of the highlights from their Thanksgiving lineup: Wellington with Mushrooms and Lentils Pot Pie Mushroom Pot Pie Why Understanding Subtle Anatomy Matters
Most of us experience ourselves primarily as physical beings—bones, muscles, nerves, and breath. Yoga teaches that beneath this visible body lies a vast network of subtle energies—currents that shape our thoughts, emotions, and sense of connection. This is the realm of subtle anatomy, the study of prāṇa (life force), the chakras, and the elements that help to create our being. When we begin to understand this subtle anatomy, we have a possibility to transform the places that we are distant from. When start to sense where energy is blocked or depleted, we can use the tools of breath, movement, mantra, and awareness to make shifts. We realize that physical sensations, emotional shifts, and even patterns of thought have energetic roots—and that by working skillfully with these energies, we cultivate greater vitality, clarity, and peace. In yoga the subtle body is not something separate from the physical one—it is its blueprint, the unseen architecture through which consciousness expresses itself. Learning to perceive and work with it deepens our yoga practice, enriches our meditation, and invites a more intimate relationship with the sacredness of life itself. I feel like that’s a risky behavior—especially considering I’m very allergic to poison ivy. But he seems to love it. In fact, he seeks it out!
However, this same dog can’t walk past a stationary broom without panicking. To him, that’s risky. Considering this was a good reminder for me that what feels risky to one being may not register as risky at all to another. As my age creeps up—and as I spend more time with people both much older and much younger—I’ve been thinking about what risky behavior for longevity looks like. Spoiler: it’s not skydiving or mountain biking. It’s subtler, sneakier, and sometimes hiding in plain sight. And it might not be what was risky for you when you were younger. Here’s my (partial) list: 1. Not being curious Curiosity is powerful. It keeps the brain alive and the spirit awake. Studies show that curious people tend to age with more grace, have better memory, and—let’s face it—have more fun. Not being curious about your body, your habits, your surroundings, and the people you meet can accelerate the aging process and leave you quite grumpy. 2. Resigning yourself to aches and pains Sure, some discomfort comes with age, but it doesn’t have to be your baseline. When my aunt visited last weekend, she wasn’t sure she could walk a quarter mile to dinner—her feet have been hurting for a long time, and she chalked it up to “just getting old.” I did some MFR (myofascial release) on her feet for about 30 minutes, and she was soon traipsing all over lower Manhattan for the whole weekend, in sandals! Just because people your age have similar aches doesn’t mean you have to accept them as par for the course. If you stay curious, you might find that there is something out there that can help free you of pain and restrictions. 3. Not getting a second opinion Every doctor, therapist, and healer has a unique perspective. If something doesn’t sit right, or make sense to you, get another opinion. If you find traditional medicine isn’t helping even after many opinions, consider investigating non-traditional approaches—these can complement traditional medicine, or in some cases, replace it. Not all non-traditional approaches are for everyone or for every malady. Talk to your friends, get recommendations and make some appointments so you can see for yourself what will work for you. 4. Eating processed or fast foods These “dead” foods rob you of vital prana—life force energy. Fresh, whole foods, ideally cooked by you or someone you know, nourish the body and the mind. You’ll feel it in your energy, mood, and vitality. Of course it is fine to indulge every now and then, but remember you are what you eat. Eating vital foods will keep you vital as well. 5. Not exercising regularly You knew this one was coming! Movement is non-negotiable—for immunity, metabolism, emotional health, and just plain feeling good. Even slow, mindful movement counts. Keep moving—your body (and your peace of mind) will thank you. 6. Not getting bodywork For years, this was my weak spot. However since training in MFR, I’ve realized how essential it is to have others work on my body with regularity. We simply can’t do everything ourselves. Often we need another set of skilled hands to help us unravel what’s stuck before it swallows us whole. 7. Not taking time off Rest is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. Taking time off is different from having a big travel adventure. It means stopping: resting, reading, meditating, just being. Preferably in quiet. The more you do it, the more you will understand how vital it really is. 8. Not having fun This is a big one! What do you do that’s fun, silly, expressive, and feeds your soul? If you can’t think of anything, find something now! Laughter, play, and creativity aren’t frivolous—they’re medicine. This one ties in with curiosity, but it also stands strong on its own. Fun and play will recharge us in ways nothing else can. 9. Not engaging in self-study In yoga philosophy, svadhyaya (self-study) is one of the cornerstones of practice. It helps us see our patterns and beliefs—particularly the ones that inevitably cause suffering. When we stop looking at ourselves, it’s like letting a garden grow wild with weeds and vines. When we neglect the weeding and pruning, the entanglements will pull structures down and hide the pathways to get through. Keep observing your thoughts, your habits, and how you move through the world. It’s not always comfortable—but it will reveal the path to freedom. 10. Not spending time with like-minded people It’s healthy to engage with different perspectives, and it’s equally vital to surround yourself with people who share your values, curiosity, and aspirations. You’ve heard the saying, “It takes a village.” That applies here, too. We need community support to explore what is new or unconventional, and we have come to realize is essential. Transformation happens faster—and with more joy—when you’re in the right company. What have you identified as risky behavior for yourself that may seem like normal everyday actions? I had this talk with my dog and he agreed to try to spend more time around inert brooms, but he is still wants to poop in the poison as long as it is around. There are so many things in life we don’t get to choose, yet they affect us deeply—how a neighbor tends their lawn right next to ours, how polluters may be pouring toxins into our water supply, how careless drivers put us at risk on the road. Last week, I wrote about the unseen forces that shape us that quietly pull the strings of our experience. How did that feel to think of all the things you don't have control over?
Instead of sinking into frustration about what we can’t control—which drains our time, energy, and peace of mind—what if we used that same energy to focus on what our choices actually are? Take fascia, for example. This unseen connective tissue can tug and pull at us uncomfortably under the skin, reducing mobility, interfering with circulation and immunity, even contributing to chronic pain and weakness. We may not be able to fully control how fascia is yanking us around, especially if we can't pinpoint the exact pattern of tension, but we can choose steps that improve how our bodies function and how fluid our fascia is. For example, we can:
And this is where it gets interesting: beneficial choices often run counter to our current inclinations. We may tell ourselves we’re stuck, but are we really? Perhaps have we just not thought of a new way—or, are we resisting change for reasons we haven’t faced yet? So when you feel you have no choice in your suffering, pause. Look again. Ask yourself:
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