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:

• Notice which foods cause inflammation and see how removing them affects our pain or stiffness.
  
• Add small, intentional movements to our day (like wiggling your feet before standing up, or doing gentle cat/cow tilts before getting out of the car).
  
• Use supplements that support supple, resilient fascia.
  
• Pay attention to what positions or habits ease discomfort.
  
• Seek treatments or practices that show measurable improvements.
  

Making these choices requires patience and persistence. Change doesn’t happen overnight. As the Yoga Sutras remind us, progress comes through dedicated practice, careful self-observation, and surrendering to the outcome. Sometimes we need outside guidance to see clearly, because our own habits and biases can cloud our perspective.
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:

• What have others in similar situations done?
  
• What has worked for me in the past?
  
• What am I willing to try, even if it feels uncomfortable at first?
  

We almost always have more choices than we realize. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of learning what those choices are—and having the courage to try them. Remember: being unaware of an option, or afraid to take it, is not the same as having no control at all.

We are constantly influenced by forces we cannot see. Take gravity, for example: invisible yet predictable, defined by Newton’s equation F = G(m₁m₂)/r². We trust its presence because centuries of observation, experimentation, and innovation have allowed us to harness it—flying airplanes, launching rockets, even reaching the moon. But imagine how many other forces act on us each day that do not yet have an equation to explain them. Remember, gravity was shaping the world long before Newton described the law of universal gravitation. (Aristotle even believed that rocks fell because it was in their very nature to return to the ground!)
Just because we can’t see these other forces doesn’t mean they aren’t impacting us—shaping how our bodies feel, how our minds function, and how our energy rises and falls. Yoga offers us many lenses through which we can better understand, directly experience, and refine these unseen influences. Ayurveda, yoga’s sister science, reminds us that our well-being depends on living in rhythm with the natural world.
Working with Ayurveda reconnects us to the qualities of nature—sometimes powerful and overwhelming, like a tidal wave or hurricane, and sometimes delicate and fleeting, like a butterfly landing on a rock. By observing how the five elements—space, air, fire, water, and earth—arise and dissolve through the seasons, moon phases, and daily cycles, we begin to understand more clearly what is happening within us. And in turn, as we notice these same elemental forces shaping our own bodies, we attune more deeply to the environments we inhabit.
Of course, drifting out of harmony is inevitable. Ayurveda describes these disturbances as imbalances, or unrefinement, of the doshas—the three primary energies that shape body and mind: vata (air and space), pitta (fire and water), and kapha (earth and water). When these forces fall out of balance, the effects can be immediate: stress, fatigue, confusion, digestive upset, inflammation, depression, or heaviness. One of the most profound ways I’ve learned to restore balance quickly is through the Ayurvedic Yoga Therapy vinyasas taught to me by my teacher, Mukunda Stiles. These unique sequences work directly with the doshas, offering powerful relief and helping to restore equilibrium to body, energy, and mind. Constant practice refines the doshas which is a huge upgrade to our whole system. Refinement makes us more resillent- recognition of imbalance comes more quickly as does the wisdom required to address the imbalance.
Another essential aspect of Ayurveda is dinacharya, the daily rituals that harmonize us with the natural cycles of day and night, the turning of the seasons, and the eternal flow of growth, release, death, and renewal. These practices remind us that health is not simply the absence of illness, but the presence of alignment, clarity, and vitality.
This October, I’ll be offering these teachings in the beautiful natural setting of our upcoming retreat in Lee, Massachusetts. Together, we’ll explore how Ayurvedic wisdom, therapeutic yoga practices, and the steadiness of dinacharya can become trusted allies in daily life. By weaving these practices together, we create a foundation that not only supports healing but also reconnects us to the rhythms of nature that nourish us on every level.
And on October 17th, we’ll continue the journey in the next installment of Subtle Anatomy. This is not the anatomy you’ll find in textbooks, X-rays, or MRIs. Instead, we’ll explore the chakras through the lens of Shree Vidyaa, a perspective that reveals the living, energetic structures shaping our inner world.

Maxx came in with some gait issues and a cranky shoulder. Fortunately for him, his owner is a long-time yoga student and was particularly observant in how Maxx was walking. She was able to identify where his tightness were, and she was right! We found a knot by his shoulder blade. When I started to do a “hairpull” technique on him just over the knot his breath slowed, and he relaxed into the technique.  

Here’s what his owner shared with me:
“After two fascia release sessions with Bonnie, my dog’s gait improved so much he stopped limping and could get in the car on his own. It was amazing to watch his breathing quiet and his body soften as Bonnie worked on his shoulders. He sighed, smiled, and clearly enjoyed the process.”

I’m not looking to work on more dogs, but I wanted to share this for a few reasons. First, to highlight the importance of understanding where our restrictions truly are. Pain is not always located where the structural issue is.
When Maxx first came in, he was dragging his feet when he walked and his knuckles were getting rubbed raw. At first glance, you might assume it was his ankle, but we had his mom work in his armpits to address the problem. That brought us up to the shoulders last week, which helped with his limp. We had to work our way up and see what happened.

Another important point is to notice if conditions are getting better. We tend to think nothing has improved if pain is still present. But using a benchmark—like being able to jump into a car with ease when that wasn’t possible before—helps us recognize progress. It might move slowly, buy knowing it is moving is important.
When it comes to understanding restrictions, we have to look to basic anatomy. Many assume their back is the issue when the real restriction is in the hips. Or they’re convinced it’s the neck, when the knot is in the shoulders. Sometimes it’s ankles instead of calves, or hamstrings instead of quads. You get the idea. If we misread where the weakness or tightness is, we’ll also miss the mark in how we try to address it.
In class last week, I used this metaphor: the hips are like the Midwest. If you grew up on one of the coasts, the states in between can feel like a big mass of rivers, lakes, mountains, and roads, with unclear boundaries. And boundaries matter: rules change when you cross them. It might be plastic bags in the grocery store, speed limits on the roads, or, back in the day, the drinking age.
When people complain of hip pain, they’re not always sure exactly where “the hip” is. Driving to Minnesota last month, the only way I knew I’d crossed into another state was when the GPS told me—or if a huge sign on the side of the road welcomed me. Our bodies don’t always put up clear signs when the neck blends into the shoulders.
When the pain you feel in your back is actually rooted in your hips (or vice versa), relief can often come more quickly once you understand what’s true and begin to address the source. And that understanding doesn’t come by overthinking—it comes by feeling and observing and sometimes by talking about it with your yoga teacher. Your asana practice is the perfect way to study your inner geography: Where are your hips? How do they move? Where does your neck end and your shoulders begin?
It’s a bit more complicated than just studying a chart. Think of it this way: your bones and muscles are like highways and roadways—mapped out and predictable. Your subtle anatomy is like rivers and streams—what happens in one area inevitably affects what’s downstream, it is difficult to contain, but the flow can be traced and addressed. And your fascia? That’s like flying a helicopter over the land: aside from a flight plan, there’s no clear map, no fixed flow, no road signs. Tension in fascia doesn’t always follow predictable pathways, which is why it can be confusing. So once you’ve studied anatomy, you also need to look more broadly—then come back to the yogi’s advice: feel what you feel, and let it guide you toward truth.
If you are interested in learning more about these things, join me this fall for the anatomy and fascia workshops and the yoga immersion. These courses will help you understand the boundaries and outline of your anatomy, and also the subtle movements that can assist in healing.

I began practicing yoga asana when I was about 20 years old. At the time, I was strong, flexible, and a quick learner. I could easily replicate movements I watched, which helped me progress quickly in both yoga and karate. Within two and a half years, I earned my black belt and became an instructor. Not long after moving to Bucks County, my yoga teacher asked me to start teaching for her program—despite my lack of formal training (teacher training programs were rare back then).


I am not bragging, I am just telling you what happened.
In many ways, I believe that quick advancement wasn’t great for me.
But, it is how it happened.
What do I understand about that now? I had a lot of catching up to do, and my training is not over. (Thank goodness!)

I suppose you could say it was my dharma to practice and then teach these embodied disciplines. Even though I began yoga in 1986, I can honestly say I wasn’t really practicing until 1999, when I started teacher training with Parvathi. Then in 2003, when I met Mukunda, I realized just how much more there was to learn. Before that, my practice relied almost entirely on my physical strength and flexibility. There was no depth, no current, no real juice flowing through the poses—I wasn’t plugged in! I was mostly performing. Yes, there was plenty of sweating, but that is just one kind of effort, and that physical effort is not the one that has truly served me these many decades. Ironically, now—older, less flexible, and physically weaker —I’m more engaged than ever.


Something in yoga clearly touched me at a deep level, given how much time and money I’ve poured into trainings, immersions, retreats, and workshops. Before the blessing of Zoom, I would travel wherever my teachers were teaching, never once hesitating about the cost—as long as I could find coverage for my kids. (These days, it’s more about coverage for my dog.) Of course, I always searched for the cheapest flights and simplest accommodations, because resources are often scarce.


I know how fortunate I am to feel this strong pull—this choiceless choice—to keep showing up. That, more than physical strength and flexibility, I now realize is my greatest superpower: I continue to participate. I don’t see it as praiseworthy; it’s simply the hand I was dealt. If there’s a training with a teacher or lineage I love, I’ll be there. Whether I’ve studied the material before, whether it seems repetitive or too basic—it doesn’t matter. Save me a spot, because I’m coming. I don't know why I am this way, I just am. 


But maybe it isn’t just me falling in love with the practice. Maybe it’s the practice calling me. That’s certainly how it feels at times—like I’m being pulled, and my only real superpower is that I say yes without hesitation. For that, I’m profoundly grateful. Life hasn’t always made it easy—raising kids, divorce, moving, running a store and studio, navigating all the inevitable “life stuff.” And yet, it has always worked out.


I remember when I was newly divorced and worried about not being able to afford a retreat our teacher was holding, my dear friend told me that if I ever needed money for something like that, she would give it to me. But,  she reminded me, I didn’t have to worry, because the resources would always show up. And I believed  she knew what she was talking about—she had gone through graduate school and pursued her own spiritual studies while raising three young boys on her own. And she was right: the support always has arrived.


She helped me see that when you intentionally stand in the path of Grace, the universe conspires to meet you there. It does require a leap of faith now and then—but those early leaps taught me to trust. So when the universe calls, I don’t doubt. I simply go.


Of course I send this message now because we have the immersion, and a lot of other workshops and series, coming up. If you are asking yourself should I, and the pull is strong, maybe it is time to let the pull, let grace, win. 

I love eating out! Like many people, I usually skip ordering dishes I can easily make at home. When I go out, I want to experience something new, delicious, surprising, and maybe even a little mysterious.
I am often inspired to recreate the amazing dishes I enjoy at a great restaurant in my own kitchen.
Just today, I ate at one of my favorite spots down the Shore. There’s one dish in particular I like to order—it’s absolutely delicious, and to this day, I have no idea how they make it. Part of me loves the mystery, and I am mostly content just enjoying it. But in the back of my mind, I’m often thinking, How can I make this at home?

Well, guess what? They just released a cookbook—yay! Will I be buying it? Most likely… YES!

When I first discovered yoga, it felt like one of those beautifully complex dishes you taste at a restaurant and can’t quite figure out. It was intriguing, nourishing, and left me wanting to know how to recreate it at home.
In my 20s, I had the time and energy to take four or five classes a week after work. But as life got busier—with more responsibilities on my plate—I found myself going to class less often, and I began to miss the elements of the practice that I knew brought me peace of mind.

Then I met my teacher. She was offering something special, something beyond the usual ingredients. This wasn’t a quick meal at a fast-food restaurant—this was mastery. When she offered a teacher training, I jumped at the chance. I knew that if I could understand the recipe behind this practice, I could recreate it at home whenever I wanted.

I was pregnant with my first child during that training. Then, life got even busier: two toddlers, a business, and not much time to “dine out,” so to speak. But I had the recipe—or at least the foundation of it.
Since then (my first training was back in 1999), I’ve slowly gathered more ingredients, refined my technique, and learned how to create a practice that nourishes me. As with anything you’ve practiced and honed for years, I’ve been able to pass on techniques and methods—and offer a list of “ingredients”—to help others create what nourishes them in their own space.
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Yoga teaches us that we already have what we need. Understanding how to blend it all together is the study that allows us to recreate what we know feeds our soul.

A client recently told me her therapist said she wouldn’t heal from a trauma for at least two years. I found that such an interesting—and limiting—way to frame healing, as if it has a start and end date. That might make sense if we’re talking about a cure, like a round of antibiotics the doctor prescribes: take the meds for two weeks, and the infection will clear. But healing is not the same as curing.
So what is healing?
Healing, as I see it, is a continuum. It requires patience and sincerity. It's not about returning to who you were before (unless you're using magic—or just not paying attention). According to the Yoga Sutras, the path to higher consciousness requires effort, discipline, self-study, and surrender. In other words, you have to actively participate, it requires work, and you have to let go of wanting everything to be like it was before. Every small shift in consciousness is a kind of healing. Each moment of insight, each upward movement, helps us stitch back together the illusion of fragmentation.
Yoga teaches that true healing comes when we remember we are not separate from the whole. The belief that we are seperate is the first and deepest wound. From there, life continues to fragment us in small and large ways, leaving us like a shattered mirror, reflecting much smaller parts of ourselves that are often in battle with each other. Each role we play—at work, at home, with friends, etc.— represents one of these fragments, and will most likely be in conflict with the others. While shifting roles can be skillful—and often necessary—we risk exhaustion if we forget that beneath them is one unchanging self. Once you see that, the roles can play together very nicely. 
The healing journey, then, is a return to wholeness—so we become like an unbroken mirror and see the full reflection of who we are. And that takes time. Integration is key. Without it, even profound insights remain theoretical—and those just become more shards in the shattered mirror. Integration means you know something in your bones. It becomes so real, you no longer feel the need to defend it. (Want to test that? Reflect on what you feel compelled to defend—and what you don’t.)
Healing isn’t just about one incident, trauma, or wound. If we try to heal in fragments, we’re just putting tape on the mirror. The bad news? You can’t heal selectively. The good news? You don’t have to. True healing leaves nothing behind.

I just completed another 2-day workshop in Myofascial Release using the John Barnes method—and I have to admit, I’m hooked. I had planned to take these seminars before COVID, but like many things, those plans got shelved. My goal was to get a shiny new tool to offer those of you dealing with chronic pain, limited range of motion, and that all-too-familiar feeling of “sticky” joints.
Assisted Fascial Release has already worked wonders for many clients, but I knew I needed something more—and I got far more than I expected.
Even after my first training back in May, I was seeing incredible results. My son even admitted that “this new stuff is doing something.” After several sessions, he shared that it was helping to ease his migraines—which, to me, is worth the cost of the trainings! And also, when a 25-year-old guy asks his mom for bodywork, you know something’s working. 
Imagine my surprise this past weekend when I realized I hadn’t been doing it right! Not wrong exactly—but not fully aligned with the primary principle of the method. In my first training, the instructions I heard was “hold for at least 120 seconds.” That seemed daunting, but those of you who came to those early sessions stayed with it and we got through it together. What I learned this weekend blew my mind: the real release doesn’t even begin until after the 120-second mark. The first two minutes are just the lead-in to the fascial system. We are to hold a technique for at least 5 minutes.  (I checked with the instructor about what I misheard. She wisely told me that is why people repeat seminars, we only take in 30% of what is being said. Hmmm... sounds like something I would tell a student...)
This weekend, receiving the techniques held for five full minutes felt like forever—in a really good way. When I was the one applying a 5-minute technique to others, the five minutes felt like 30 seconds.
I started thinking about something Dr. Robert Schleip said recently: to create real change in the fascia, stretches should be held for a minimum of 120 seconds—and ideally for 3 to 5 minutes. He even suggested in a recent video appearance that one hour would be ideal—if you can find someone willing to do that!
Of course, this isn’t news to most John Barnes-trained myofascial release therapists. But for us yoga practitioners—especially those not practicing Yin or Iyengar—it may raise an eyebrow. Those styles, known for longer holds, are becoming increasingly rare around here (after all, us East Coaster favor faster-paced Vinyasa and Ashtanga-inspired practices. Who has time to lie around for five minutes per pose, right?)
If you’ve been to one of my trainings, you’ve probably heard me say this before, but it bears repeating: stretching muscle alone does not significantly increase range of motion. Strengthening muscles, proper structural alignment, and calming the nervous system all contribute to a release—which is what will quickly shift and expand ROM. And now, studies are confirming that real gains to ROM and sustained changes to the fascia come when we gently tug on the fascia and maintain tension for 3–5 minutes (or more).
So what are we actually doing in a yoga asana class with all the movement, balancing, stretching, and contracting if we are not elongating the fascia? We are still doing a lot! We’re hydrating our tissues, preventing adhesions, and maintaining fascial fluidity. We’re lubricating joints, moving prana, relieving stress, toning muscles, deepening our self-connection, training our minds, and raising awareness. Yoga isn’t just about increasing ROM, and it certainly isn’t a waste of time—but it helps to understand what we’re actually achieving on the mat.
If you have restricted ROM somewhere and are coming to a Vinyasa class, don’t expect those limitations to change quickly. In fact, quite honestly, it may get worse if you’re stressing that area—especially in a competitive class environment where the instructor is encouraging you to go to your max (verbally or through hands-on assists).
To address range of motion issues, you may be better off in a therapeutic class or SSR. Even better—a one-on-one session to address your specific issue. But don’t stay home either! The group asana classes you’re attending are helping maintain your range of motion—and your overall ability to move. Just practice with intelligence. And if you feel like holding a pose longer, remember: you’re always welcome to do that at any time. I might just have the whole class join you.