I am very grateful to be back to health and to a multi-dimensional yoga practice. Many of my students shared my hiatus and are also experiencing what it is like to come back to their yoga bodies.

It is a real process to return to movement. It can feel like breaking through ice to move in ways that you haven’t experienced lately. For me, it was almost as though I could feel my fascia straining and complaining as I began to incorporate asana back into my life. I realized just how much my bodily world had shrunk due to limited movement.

Movement is like lubrication to our bodily selves. We are built to move! It is part of the practice of being deeply human.

As I (and we) continue on a journey back to movement, I invite you to practice compassion, curiosity, and fascination at the process.

One expression of this resistance is Yoga to the People, a studio concept and business established by Greg Gumucio. Gumicio noticed that teachers were being elevated by students to the extent that “students stop doing yoga because they couldn’t practice with a favorite teacher.” But wasn’t the point, he thought, to learn that you are your own inner teacher?

His multi-city studio business relies on high-volume classes and employs a “by donation” fee for students (about 1/2 of each day’s students contribute something). Classrooms are filled to capacity; when there is no more space, students are sent to another classroom. Teacher schedules are not publicized and teacher differences are de-emphasized in favor of a general studio atmosphere.

It is an interesting business concept and offers a indication of how much people may be interested in very different environments for practicing yoga. However, the most direct way this model seems to encourage an engagement with the deeper principles of yoga is to encourage students to accept the studio as it is—which might mean crowded and de-personalized.

I think my greatest skepticism about this version of yoga education is the assumption that teachers don’t matter (much). While I agree with Gumucio’s point that we are ultimately our own teachers in our practice as yogis, I believe that committed, informed, experienced practitioners have enormous gifts they can share with us through their teaching. Further, as my long-time teacher Lisa Clark says, it is the role of teachers to “hold the space” for student learning and discovery. Teachers create an environment where students can dive deeply into practice. Teachers nourish compassion and self-care, while encouraging us to open to new questions and sensations. Teachers can be very different in their specific approaches and talents, but equally profound in their ability to support our growth. Skillful teachers help us find and develop our inner teacher.

To suggest that yoga is simply an enjoyable series of movements set to fun music and taught by “whomever” is to miss the gifts that artful teachers share every day. If teachers don’t really matter, why don’t we just play a recording? Yoga has both a long oral tradition and a history of embracing teacher contributions. Teachers carry the tradition of their own teachers within themselves, and pay homage to that tradition even as they create their own teaching practice. As students, we deserve to be exposed to the depths of yoga, and to the richness of artful teaching.

On a more practical note, I’d like to comment on the studio economics suggested by Yoga to the People. The practice of offering yoga by donation reveals some more complicated values than might be assumed. Many studios and teacher perceive the donation option as a way of assuring access to yoga to people of all incomes. Others see donation options as part of the practice of generosity.

I do think it’s important to point out who is being generous is these situations. Studio environment costs (rent, utilities, etc.) are fixed, no matter how many students attend a class. Moreover, it is fairly common for studios to operate with a fixed minimum take from each class they host. Yoga teachers are typically independent contractors and their compensation depends largely on the numbers of students they teach.

When teachers accept by donation classes, they are also accepting that their contributions may or may not be worth paying for. Frequently, teachers are expected to be more generous that studios when students skip donations or offer a dollar or two. Some might argue that the studio is taking an even bigger risk, as they have fixed costs to address for the classroom space. In either case, both studio and teacher can end up inadvertently suggesting that the educational experience they are offering is free for the taking. This does not necessarily build respect for the teacher/studio offering, nor does it contribute to a sustainable class or business. In fact, a by donation model can actually diminish the value students place on quality instruction. This practice might be a good thing for those concerned about “star” teachers, but it is also a way of de-valuing skillful experienced instruction. Finally, the donation model actually hides much of the cost of offering skilled movement instruction in a specific location. We certainly are used to an economy that hides many costs from us—whether the cost of a hamburger or of the latest electronic game. But I’m not so sure ignorance about cost is something we want to foster!

I think it’s interesting that many studios (including Yoga to the People) actually articulate a suggested donation amount (which does make one wonder how much it is a donation). On the other hand, I know of studios who have neglected to do this and ended up with far fewer dollars than they could live with on a regular basis.

I do think by donation classes have a place in yoga education. They make the most sense to me when they are offered in community locales that do not require rent to be paid. I’ve known other yoga teachers to offer such classes in parks, on beaches and in churches with great success. The no or low cost setting can help bring yoga education to new students while still offering an appropriate compensation for a teacher’s time, travel and expertise. I am also excited by the trends in online yoga education. Many studios and teachers are offering podcasts and online videos of classes. Many of these are free and are offered as a way to expand yoga access and to encourage students to practice.

What does Yoga for the People mean for you? Is your yoga class offering you the support, encouragement and fee options you need? How important is it to you to work with a particular teacher? I welcome hearing your comments and ideas.

I’ll end by reminding readers that I love to embrace the teaching and practice of yoga in everyday community settings. My current class is held in the Kingston, TN community center. We routinely practice next to other community gatherings—whether master gardener meetings or Tea Party politickers. I pay a modest rent to the center and charge a modest fee for the class—in order to support my rent, on-going professional yoga education and certifications, insurance, and gas costs. I do not make a living teaching yoga; rather, I enrich my life by teaching (and practicing) yoga. I am grateful for my students for supporting this class and to the center for hosting us.

As a teacher and practitioner, my answer is always “maybe.”

There are a few dimensions to my response.

First there is the question of whether or not yoga counts as exercise. While there are forms of hatha yoga that emphasize a challenging and fairly rapid series of movements (think vigorous vinyasa practices, like Ashtanga or other “Power Yoga” varieties), many other forms of hatha yoga are not especially aerobic in nature. So if you are needing to add vigorous, heart beat elevating exercise to your life yoga may or may not fit the bill. My own approach to teaching and practicing hatha yoga is much more focused on developing supported movement capacity than it is on burning calories. In fact, I often rely on my personal asana practice to help me recover from other activities like hiking, running, riding, farm work or weight lifting.

A more immediate and often powerful effect of yoga practice on weight and health often arises simply from a regular practice of paying attention. As we pay attention to our bodies in yoga class, we begin to feel what we need in each moment. We experience the supportive and energetic alignment of movement and breath. And, we learn to develop a compassionate, loving relationship with our bodily selves. Instead of judging our body harshly for not measuring up to something in our minds, we can instead focus on experiencing the wonders of our body–and be thrilled with its sensations, abilities and potential. This shift in attention and care can have tremendous repercussions for how we eat, move and care for ourselves. When I first began practicing yoga, I was struck by how clearly I craved healthy, whole foods after practice. My interest in sugar and refined foods that would spike and drop my energy levels simply faded away. Conscious movement and breath provided me with a very different orientation towards what I was willing to put in my body.

As you dive deeper into yoga, you might also be drawn to the philosophical dimensions of yoga which emphasize non-violence, compassion and truthfulness. These principles can transform your perception of food and nourishment. For some, that might mean choosing a vegetarian diet. Others may focus on selecting foods that are healthier for the environment. You have the opportunity to be inspired by the yamas and niyamas of yoga in how you live your daily life.

As you open up to new forms of nourishment, you might also be drawn to investigate other philosophical inquiries around bodies and culture. Geneen Roth’s writing has inspired many people to understand weight and dieting in a deeper psychological and cultural context. Sometimes just shifting our viewpoint can utterly change our perception of “the problem.”

Finally, I have to mention the elephant in the room—me! I am not shaped like a typical Yoga Journal model or frankly like many serious yoginis. I’ve practiced yoga for nearly 15 years, but I am still not model thin (or what one friend describes as a “yoga babe.”). I can’t tell you how many times I’ve attended yoga workshops and have been the largest person in the room. My dear partner calls me “the Yoga Peasant.” My body is truly built for work. I have a strong, sturdy, solid physical body that is surprisingly flexible. But I also have hips, buttocks, curves and weigh far more than 120 pounds! I hope that by embracing my curvey solidity I am not only practicing acceptance, but am also encouraging others to recognize the beauty that lies within bodies of all shapes and sizes—including their own.

A rich yoga practice can meet you at any weight, any size and any point in your life. Yoga really is an integrative practice of body, mind and spirit. Consequently, a yoga practice is often a very different experience from “working out” or going to the gym. It can still be a physical experience, but that is not all that is going on.

On a practical note, if you are drawn to vigorous movement but your body is not yet ready to support that movement (or is challenged by its size), I urge you to be compassionate as you practice and develop strength, flexibility and balance. You may be ready for challenges in one part of your body, but not in another. Remember, the larger you are, the more intense weight bearing activity is on your body. Attentive alignment is especially important to prevent injury. Moreover, learning to support our own body weight is quite a different task than lifting a 10 lb weight.

Enjoy the journey and watch what happens when you pay attention!

Happy practice to you.

The reminder to breathe can be helpful–whether we are in traffic or practicing a challenging asana. When we stop breathing, we are refusing to oxygenate our cells and are essentially trying to run on empty. When your breathing gets irregular or you hold your breath, you might notice that your muscles tighten and there is a general feeling of constriction in your body. It’s as though your body is on high alert—but is aware that the end (no oxygen!) is near, all at the same time.

Here are a few approaches I use to encourage full body breathing:

Learn to belly breathe. I can’t tell you how many experienced yoga students I’ve taught who are eager to learn more and more complicated asanas and pranayama practices who have not yet figured out how to breathe into their bellies. To me, this is fundamental to a healthy, sustaining and rewarding yoga practice (and life!). As a teacher, I do not teach much pranayama until students are very clear and consistent in belly breathing. In the basic belly breath, your belly expands softly with each inhale, and condenses (shrinking towards the spine) with each exhale. If you try to do this and just find your chest lifting on each inhale while your belly does nothing, here are some strategies for finding your belly breath:

-Lying on your back, place a sandbag (or bag of rice) on your lower abdomen, below your belly button. This should feel comfortable, so if the weight is too much go for something lighter. As you inhale, let your belly fill and the sandbag rise; as you exhale, feel the belly and the sandbag drop. The weight on the belly gives you wonderful tactile and visual feedback as you practice your belly breath.

-Lie on your belly, with your forehead resting on your folded arms. Get comfortable. You can let your heels roll towards the outside of your mat if you like. Putting your attention on your belly, feel your inhale press your belly into the floor. Feel your contact with the floor lighten on your exhale. Continue for at least several minutes.

Instead of deepening your breath by focusing on making your inhale bigger, concentrate more on a complete exhalation. After your next normal inhale, exhale fully and then exhale a little bit more, really drawing the belly into towards the spine as you empty out all of the breath. Then let your next inhale just come easily and fully. Then exhale fully and again add a couple of extra seconds of exhalation. Repeat up to 5 times, then return to your normal easy breath. See how you feel.

Notice when your breathing changes. Many of us shift into chest breathing when we are nervous, worried or confused. Feel that shift happen. As you become more sensitized to your breath, you’ll also notice how chest breathing constricts movement in your shoulders and even your pelvis. Then, practice shifting deliberately back into belly breathing–even for just 5 rounds of breath. Notice how you feel after making this shift.

Feel the texture of your breath. This is an especially lovely practice when you are practicing asana or other vigorous activity. Notice if your breath feels smooth or bumpy, if it glides in and out or takes some detours. If your breath feels ragged, make small adjustments to your movement or posture and see if you can smooth out the sensations. You may need to lessen your movement intensity in order to do this. Re-establish a baseline smooth, easy breath before resuming your activity. Soon you’ll be able to make fine tuned adjustments within one breath cycle.

The more you practice full, smooth breathing, the more natural and easy it will feel to you. Learning to fully oxygenate our bodies with our breath is a wonderful life skill. You can energize your body with breath and steady your mind with breath.

Happy breathing practice!

In the classes I teach, there are usually students of various experiences, bodies and personal histories. Some are brand new to practicing yoga, while others have have explored yoga in varying intensities for many years. Some students are quite fit; some may have trouble with flexibility or balance. Others may not be fit in the usual ways, but are very skilled at subtle movement and deep attention.

I find the variety of talents students bring to their practice a real gift. I like that while some students are eagerly exploring, say, movements that require a great deal of strength, others are figuring out the more fundamental elements that will provide them comfort and support in space. The differences in attitude and aptitude actually contribute a tremendous amount of content to the class.

Yet, I’m aware that it can be quite challenging to find a way to be at home in these settings. I do think it takes a compassionate and forgiving approach to practice with people who are in obvious and subtle ways different from how you perceive yourself. If you are someone who is highly agile and always eager for the next dramatic movement, it is challenging to be in a class where you are taught to attend to fine details. If you prefer a gentle, slow-paced practice, it can be confusing to follow your own breath as you explore movements which require a bit more fire and intensity.

A mixed levels, mixed experience, mixed bodies class teaches us, in short, to be ourselves in the midst of being with others. We have the chance to recognize ourselves—and our ambition, fatigue, curiosity and confusion–at the same time that we learn more about possible ways of moving/being by witnessing the practice of others.

If I am your teacher, I want you to know that you are encouraged to always acknowledge yourself in your class practice. At the same time, I want to encourage you to greet and meet others, whether as a witness or fellow traveller. We can learn so much by practicing mindful movement, together.

Happy practice!

As someone who can be overcommitted to logic over emotion, I always appreciate being reminded of how emotions affects our experience of ourselves, others, and the world. Living intimately with emotion is something we all need to learn how to do—even just to function as humans!

As a yoga student, I’ve had the experience of being utterly blind-sided by bursts of emotion. The simplest movements can be connected to a tremendous well of feeling. I remember practicing makarasana (crocodile) pose once and just weeping. As my body melted into the floor, I felt truly held–without any obligation to do something for the floor! As someone who has spent most of the first half of her life feeling caught in unequal relationships of obligation, rather than equitable love, I weeped both for all that I had never had, and all that was available for me right here, right now. Interestingly, I was hardly the only person in the workshop having an emotional experience lying on the floor. Accepting support is something that a lot of us need to learn—although I may need more remedial lessons than most!

It is also fascinating to observe how the eruption of emotion can serve as a kind of marker of questions or sensations that are important to our being. If we move into certain positions—whether on the floor or in the air–and start to sense some strong emotions, we have the chance to allow those emotions to simply flow through our bodies. The emotion doesn’t need to get stifled or put away; nor, does the emotion have to become a way of life. We can feel, let the feelings flow as they come and go, and continue to breathe.

As you explore the flow of emotion, it can be scary at first to allow those feelings to have some “room” in the room. This is where the practice of grounding your body-mind through breath and movement can be of tremendous assistance. Whether you practice in a group or by yourself, see what it is like to just let the feelings arise, arrive and dissipate. Trust that feelings are a kind of expressive flow—they show up, they bring intense sensation and we can let them go on their way. Their arrival and expression can bring us clues about areas of our body-mind-life that might need some attention. Their departure reminds us that each moment comes and goes, like our inhale and exhale. Whether ecstasy or sorrow, we need not fear emotion. We are humans, and emotional flow is part of our capacity and part of what your practice can support.

My long time teacher, Lisa Clark, helpfully translated the challenge of being upright into a matter of learning to balance the front and back body. Through conscious, subtle movement, we can learn to find a centered home for the skeleton and internal contents (organs, fluids, etc.) of the body.

Here is a simple example: Stand up. Now let more weight drop in your heel than your toes. Feel your tail drag a bit on the floor. Even feel the weight in your spinal column shift back towards the spinus processes (small boney fingers on the back of your spine). Let your head drop forward of your spine. See how you feel. You might notice tension in the shoulders, a sense of withdrawal, or even passivity. Then explore the opposite: Weight the toes. Move the ribs forward of your pelvis. Prop the head up, maybe poking the chin out. Feel the tail flip up behind you. This has a different sensation most likely, but is also likely to feel tense—just in different places.

Now, see if you can find some middle ground by weighting the whole foot, releasing the tail and pubic bone softly down towards the floor, allowing middle of the disks of the spine to transfer weight up and down your body, and gently knitting the ribs in towards your spine. Allow the skull to balance on the spine, while you gaze softly at the horizon. Feel what this is like.

This type of experimentation is a wonderful way to explore your current habits and to develop new, more healthful and aligned patterns. Figuring out how to be upright in balanced alignment is really an on-going project. Mindful movement can encourage us to attend to this as a balancing process—so that we notice both sensations of alignment and feelings associated with losing it.

As an avid dressage student, I spend a lot of time trying to figure out balanced alignment on horseback. Fortunately, I have the help of my horse to do this. When I lose my upright alignment and compromise my spine, my horse inevitably starts to rush and worry. She notices that I’ve “lost it”, and she loses it, too!

Lately, I’ve been trying to improve my rising trot position. I’ve figured out that I often lose my balance at the top of the rise by allowing my ribs to shift forward. This also affects the alignment of my pelvis. I can feel this hollowing happening, and I instantly become a less effective rider when my body goes into this position. I often go to this hollow pattern when I am nervous or worried about my horse’s behavior. The funny thing is, this worry habit actually makes both me and the horse feel more panicky!

To help me change this habit, I’ve thinking “Keep the back body involved” so that I don’t over stretch the front body and abandon the support of my back. I also think about knitting in the ribs towards my spine with each rise. When I get it right, my horse rewards me by moving more freely, with greater balance and power. When I lose it, my horse lurches, surges and hollows her own back, in reflection of my own imbalance.

While you may not be an equestrian, see if you can notice the effects of alignment and misalignment in your daily activities—whether walking, running, biking or lifting children. You can also observe how your physical alignment shifts or becomes challenged when your are in different situations. The first step to repatterning alignment is noticing what is happening. Then you can begin to explore different choices.

Happy practice!

I know for new students this can be a period of uncertainty. Where do I put my mat? Which way is the teacher setting up? Does it matter how I orient myself? Will I be able to see and hear? Does the person next to me look friendly? Or more to the point, does the person next to me look so flexible, so thin, so young, or so whatever that I can’t imagine relaxing next to them in my body?

As you arrive to your class, I invite you to settle in like you would on a sandy beach. You can visualize yourself in a caftan or a bikini—it doesn’t matter. Scout the room, make a bold choice for your beach blanket (mat) and settle in! You might take a few moments to greet others near by or smile to others entering the class. But then let yourself settle into the sand like it’s your little spot of heaven.

Lying down on your back, belly or side is a wonderful way to let yourself relate to your selected space in the classroom. Let the weight of your body drop into the “sand” and your breathing settle deep in your belly. You might spend a few minutes or all of the time before class in this position.

I think of this practice of laying the body down as a way to ground and settle the body-mind. Since so much of our daily life involves dispersion of the body-mind (email, commuting, multi-tasking, etc.), taking the time to get all of you in the same place is a wonderful beginning to your practice and prepares you for class.

If you feel settled after several minutes, you might choose to gently explore a few movements, with particular attention to areas of your body that are calling out for massage. This might be simple vata (knee to chest) poses for the spine and hips; it might be child’s pose; it might be shoulder shrugs and easy arm circles. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or a complete asana—just low key awakening of your body through gentle movement.

Finally, if your body feels released and ready, explore sitting in a comfortable position. Release your pelvis and sitbones into your mat. Allow the natural curves of your spine to flow upward out of your pelvis. Find an easy, aligned home for your skull. Release your jaw and enjoy the sensation of being upright, while still grounded.

Whether you’ve remained on the ground the whole time or not, you’ve prepared yourself to meet the content and intention of your practice and your class. Namaste!

Riga the Weimaraner prefers Hot Meditation by the woodstove in her passive solar home.

These days, there are a number of varieties of “Hot Yoga” offered by yoga teachers across the country. While Bikram Yoga can be credited for bringing the idea of practicing in a heated (up to 100F+ degree) room to the masses, a number of variations of “heated” if not hot yoga classes are springing up in yoga studios and gyms.

My students often ask me what I think about hot yoga. Well, here are a few comments for your consideration:

1. Practicing in a hot room is not the same thing as learning to heat your body, from the inside out.

2. Similarly, just because you are in a hot room and sweating vigorously does not mean your muscles are actually learning new and more flexible movements. You may even assume you are more flexible than you really are, thanks to the sensation of external heat. This can lead to mis-judgement and even injury.

3. Some hot yoga environments are simply too hot to be comfortable for effective breathing. This can be a serious matter for people who are unused to heat, unfit, or have asthma or other challenges. I am especially cautious about environments that emphasize heating the room over 85F.

4. Similar to #2, just because you are sweating prolifically in a hot yoga class doesn’t mean you are actually engaged in challenging movement or effort. You may simply be hot and sweaty!

5. The energy it takes to heat a room about 85F is not insignificant. In a time when we are more aware of the costs of our energy usage, I encourage students and studios to consider the consequences of extremely high energy usage. Or, as Riga aptly demonstrates in the above photo, consider alternative means of creating a warm environment! For those of you practicing in un-airconditioned spaces during the summer, I would say that this is a wonderfully eco form of warm yoga!

6. There are ayurvedic rationales for being selective in the practice of hot yoga. For those of us with pita constitutions or aggravated pita (which is often all of us in a competitive world), adding heat is the last thing that is needed for busy, intense, *firey* pita minds and bodies. While vata types may crave a warm environment, pitas are already “on fire”–physically and/or mentally–and can benefit from learning to pacify and calm this firey, aggressive quality.

You can tell by my comments that I am not exactly a fan of hot yoga. I do understand how delicious it is to be comfortably warm when practicing—especially as my joints age! Yet I also think it is important for practitioners to be cautious in these environments. Heat exhaustion is simply not a good thing to practice, ever. Nor is heating up the body externally a quick fix to dive into more challenging postures, or for speeding weight loss.

Deliberate, conscious and active hatha yoga can teach us to increase the fire or agni in our bodies; it can also create a tremendous amount of heat—which is wonderful for cleansing, releasing toxins through sweat and encouraging cellular renewal. While it can take more time, attention and effort to feel that heat from the inside out, I think the process and the outcomes yield even greater rewards for our bodies, minds and spirit.

A dear friend and former student asked me this question recently. I was struck by how this query is both simple and layered. In some way, the practice of yoga is a lot of fun for me. I love to move my body and learn new things through movement exploration. Yet, there are many aspects to my practice which are interesting, but not necessarily fun in the way of having a good time. Many of us especially enjoy practicing postures and pranayama that feel enjoyable. Yet, if we limit our practice to the fun stuff, we are likely to miss out on a number of dimensions.

I know as a teacher I have suggested “Remember to have fun” to students looking extra serious about performing an asana. I really mean this as a nudge to breathe and take in the playfulness and pleasures of learning through movement.

However, if my students expect a barrel full of laughs every class, they are likely to be disappointed. We do laugh, cry, talk and giggle. But fun comes and goes in our practice, kind of like it does in life. We have moments of sheer delight, followed by periods of confusion or frustration. Practice is fun, but it is also challenging.

If you’re not having any fun in your practice, please consider this post permission to go after pure delight in your home/class practice this week. If that means 60 minute shavasana or loads of sun salutations or back bends, enjoy (with care). Play your favorite music. Do warrior poses outside in the snow. Create your most joyful environment for practice and dive in. The experience of fun play teaches us a lot of being fully alive in each moment and awake to the joy of life.

On the other hand, if you’ve been having nothing but fun in your practice lately, I’ll invite you to reflect on what is present and absent in your practice. Perhaps you are just a joyful yogi in a stage of constant delight. But perhaps you are spending most of your practice in your comfortable joy zones…and missing out on adventures in some other areas of your body-mind-spirit. Maybe you avoid some postures or pranayam practices; maybe your meditation is irregular at best. Only you will know what I’m talking about if this applies to your practice.

I welcome your comments and reports from the mat! Happy practice to you.