This past Friday my slow flow class revolved around people finding the therapeutic value in their asana.  For some people in some poses, it's going to be more therapeutic to pulse in and out rather than hold a static position. But how big a pulse? 1 inch, or 2 and a half inches, maybe 5 inches? For some people a certain pose may be more therapeutic if they hold it and find all of the micro-movements in their muscles, perhaps allowing primary movers to finally kick in when secondary movers become fatigued. One may find that holding a pose and really observing it for a while is like looking at a work of art- the more we look the more we understand it, and the more we understand it the more we can feel how it relates to us on a personal level. In class I likened this holding and observation to a Where's Waldo puzzle. You had to stare at one of those a long time before finding that little guy. And when you found it a feeling of triumph followed. So in your pose, looking deeply for, and then finding, what the appropriate effort is, where the pranic movements are,  where is the " juice" of the pose is can be a phenominial personal triumph. The longer we look the more we can see and embody.


I consider one of my triumphs as a yoga teacher is guiding people to understand and care for their bodies. A the end of that particular class when I suggested people going in to a reclined spinal twisted of their choice, there were as many different twists as there were bodies in the room. It was truly a beautiful sight. 


I consider one of my roles as a yoga teacher is for people to find a connection to their bodies, not my body. So many times I've had people say to me "Well, I can't do it as you are doing it." Only if a person has a similar DNA, similar life experience, similar injuries, and a similar time practicing yoga should even consider a comparison to my asanas to be relevant. A student should not even consider imitating my poses a goal, unless it leads them to a deeper connection with their own bodies. The outer is just not as impactful as the inner.


As I recover from my injuries incurred last year, and I reckon and realize the impact age has on my body, I find it more and more important to offer my students the means to a better relationship with their body.  It has been the injuries and the aging that have given me a yet even deeper relationship with my own body. That, and my deepening meditation practice, have given me the inner space to realize that it's never too late to develop this relationship, and it is essential for happy aging.


Working with my injuries have taught me a gentleness towards my body that I think is perfectly timed since I am stepping lightly towards my 60's. Outwardly, it may seem as though it is  fierce determination to maintain youth, which unfortunately is what many people end up using yoga practice for.  Rather, for me, what is arising from this gentleness and practice,  is a loving, and enthusiastic reclamation of range of motion and strength that is appropriate and possible for this 58 year old body. 


I'll take enthusiasm over frustration any day! How about you?

This quote was shared by one of the speakers at my daughter’s graduation this past weekend. Smith College invited five speakers, each an incredibly inspiring, strong, and accomplished woman. Most inspiring of all was the class president, whose message was, "You are enough." She also encouraged her classmates to pay attention because the things that inspire us the most might be found in everyday interactions.


What impacted me the most this weekend was my perception of time and the “impossible." As we cleaned out my daughter’s room, we peeked into some of the other rooms on the floor that had already been vacated. One of the rooms we peered into was the exact room we saw five years ago during our Smith College tour. Five years ago, I couldn't not conceive of how it would be possible to afford to send my daughter to Smith, her first choice, never mind her having a private room! But now, in 2024, the “impossible” has been achieved. Back in July of 2023, I couldn’t conceive of how I’d ever be able to do crow pose again. Not only was I in constant pain from a wrist break, but I was also in a splint. While I was very concerned with being able to shower, but the thought of not ever being able to do crow again was definitely on my mind. And this weekend, I was able to pop up into the pose. (Maybe it’s no coincidence that the Airbnb we stayed at was affectionately dubbed "the Crow’s Nest," but I like to think that it also had to do with my dedication to regaining my range of motion.)


It’s hard to believe my broken wrist was less than a year ago! It’s hard to believe that less than five years ago, we as a family were fretting about college applications, affording two kids in college at one time, and having my daughter so far away from me for so long. And now, as it happens, these things are done.


And so, what of the improbability of me healing my current knee injury fully and being able to do child’s pose one day, getting over the cold I have, making it through this heatwave or coldspell, getting past a bout of sleeplessness, or ever coming out the other side of a personal or business challenge? Will this ever be done? When one thing is accomplished, another (or many) arises.


It is possible that sharing this with you will help me remember the next time I think I’ll never make it past whatever it is. I will recall standing in a hallway at Smith in 2019 "knowing" I couldn’t provide my daughter with what she wanted most, and "knowing" a year ago I would never be able to get into crow pose again. How about in 2021, "knowing" we would never eat in a restaurant again or sit in the same room with people who were not in our Covid pod?


Ten years ago, I "knew" I would never get wrinkles, saggy skin, or a menopause belly!
I am selfishly hoping that if I share some of these things I "knew" for sure that didn’t turn out the way I dreaded, or foolishly hoped for, maybe I will remember the next time I "know" something. I will remember that I don’t "know" anything at all. Maybe I will remember that what seems impossible is only impossible until it’s done. And that whatever happens, I am enough.


My big question is, when we “know” something, what does it prevent us from doing? How does “knowing” limit our interactions in this world and restrict our dharma? If Nelson Mandela and the ANC had “known” apartheid would never change, what might have happened (or not happened) in South Africa?


What do you “know” that you are willing to challenge?