I’ve mentioned before on this blog how much I appreciate Edward Espe Brown’s description of bringing together his daily coffee with his meditation practice. Brown teaches us that instead of seeing our attachments and habits as an obstacle to mindfulness, we can actually give them room to sit next to us as we experience the very human experience of quiet reflection and meditation.
The physical practice of yoga (asana) also can invite us to bring our messy human selves to the mat. I think this is when a truly personal movement practice begins to flourish. In my asana practice, I might be exploring different patterns like they are ideas or questions—looking around, seeing what I find in my body and my mind as I encounter my breath and body systems.
However, there is also a “daily vitamin” aspect to the movements that I practice regularly. Before yoga became a part of my life, I routinely experienced low back and sciatic pain—like many people who spend a lot of time sitting. Regular practice quickly eliminated this pain at the time; however, as my body ages (and accumulates various injuries—often from horses!), I need to attend to my spine even more consciously. It is not enough for me to simply practice movements I plan to teach or want to learn.
Each home asana practice for me needs to include conscious core support work, deliberate and complete rounding and then extension of my spine, several varieties of spinal twists (often in different dimensions), and several movements that target the outer hip. This is the bare minimum for what feels like a physical “reset” for my body at this point in my life. My asana practice goes on in many other directions, but these basics give me immediate pain relief and allow me to feel ready for more complex movement challenges.
How did I get to know my basics? Well, I’ve learned that if I ignore some of these dimensions for several days, I get achey. I may get less motivated to practice, because I feel stiff and sore. I am more cautious and contained in my everyday movement. In a day or two when I’m thinking, “Gee, why do I feel so out of it?” I finally remember that I need a complete daily cup of practice! The relief comes very quickly and am back into my fuller movement repetoire.
I hope sharing my pattern will encourage you to explore and identify your own daily cup of practice needs. I know it can seem easier to skip practice once there is stiffness and resistance in the body; I invite you to show up anyway, with a kind and gentle attitude towards your body. You may need to lie patiently on your mat, waiting to feel yourself yearn for a certain movement or release. It is quite okay if all your body comes up with is crawling into a ball (or child’s pose), or putting your legs up a chair or wall! As you welcome your body’s insights on its needs, you’ll gradually create your own movement vitamin—which is truly nourishment for both body and soul.
Happy practice!
