Standing up is easier than sitting down.
Saturday, March 21, 2:00-4:00
They say that dog is man’s best friend. In yoga we sure spend a lot of time hanging out with down dog. So what to do if the pose causes shoulder or wrist pain or just doesn’t feel like a comfy companion? It’s nearly unavoidable in many yoga classes.
This workshop will teach you how to organize the shoulders for a pain-free, sustainable down dog. You’ll learn how to fire up the muscles that place and protect the shoulders (and the wrists) in the pose. We’ll explore variations of the pose that will help you find and fine-tune your posture. Along the way you’ll glean some insights into the anatomy of the shoulder.
This workshop will be of use to students who wish to breed the ideal dog pose for their unique needs. The anatomy and teaching strategies content will also serve TT grads looking to build their repertoire of teaching tools.
Come learn. Come play. Come let your dog off the leash.
For aspiring teachers and serious students
February 8-March 5, 2015
For more information, contact Liz Terry: email@example.com
Info to come soon...
YogaWorks 500-hour TEACHER TRAINING
For more information, contact Janine Francke: firstname.lastname@example.org
Teacher Training Video--Beijing Intensive
Video: How To Recruit the Legs in Plank Pose
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Standing up is easier than sitting down.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Monday, May 27, 2013
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Yoga Sutras devote only three aphorisms—less than 1% of the text—to asana, to posture practice. These three tell us that posture should be stable and easeful, that stability and ease is to be gained by consistent effort, and that practicing postures in this manner brings about “the strength to resist the shocks” of life’s vicissitudes. (I quote here from Charles Johnston’s 1912 translation.)
Truly, we use asana to hone the skill of remaining undisturbed in destabilizing situations. This point was driven home during a recent morning practice in
I can report that body and breath remained fairly even throughout the experience. The mind on the other hand? It was—as usual—beset by a torrential cascade of thoughts and impressions, some relevant to the incident and others seemingly unrelated . . . all while holding a yoga pose for a mere forty-five seconds on the eighth floor of a building during a freaking earthquake.
The idea is that through consistent, effortful practice, the mind too learns to keep its equilibrium despite external circumstances. So that nothing—not even a shaking of the very foundations below us—can rock the proverbial boat.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
In yoga, we use the physical postures as a tool to quiet the mind. The connection between the gaze and the mind is, of course, figurative—we focus the gaze to direct our attention. But there’s a physiological connection, too. The “eye is actually a part of the brain which grows outward to the surface of [the] body during embryological development” (Irene Dowd, Dynamic Dancing 43). In other words, when you look at someone’s eye, you’re actually looking at their brain. Talk about a window to the soul!
Thought waves, the fluctuations of the mind that we learn about in the Yoga Sutras, are productions of the brain. (At least, according to modern science. Traditional texts on yoga locate both the mind and—for want of a better translation—the soul in the heart, but that’s another discussion.) We can’t still the fluctuations of the mind at will but we can voluntarily fix the eyes on a gazing point. That is, we can physically stabilize a part of the brain. In so doing, we employ drishti as a method of quieting the mind.
Try this during your next asana practice: each time you come to down dog, latch your gaze to a point between your shins or up at your navel. How does committing to the drishti in just this one pose impact the overall effects of your practice?
Friday, September 10, 2010
For example, try this: come into vasisthasana (side plank). Lift your top leg a few inches above your bottom leg. Look up at your top hand, then down at your bottom hand. Repeat a few times. The muscles of your core had to prevent your spine and pelvis from moving around and knocking you off balance. If they successfully stabilized the center of your body, you were able to move your head and appendages freely without falling over. (You can get really funky with this experiment: try whipping your top arm around as if you were about to throw a lasso . . .)
We practice yoga, the Sutras tell us, to stabilize the fluctuations of the mind. For now, let’s view the mind as the core of consciousness. Yoga philosophy discusses organs of perception, through which we take in information about the world around us, and organs of action, through which we interact with the world around us. The organs of perception and the organs of action are essentially the mind’s “appendages.” Building stability in the mind, the core of consciousness, allows the appendages, the organs of perception and the organs of action, to function more efficiently. We then perceive the world from a place of improved steadiness and operate in it with more grace.
Of course, it’s easier to build core strength than it is to stabilize the fluctuations of the mind, so we start there.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Extension (bending backward) is much more readily available in the lumbar spine (the lower back) than in the thoracic spine (the upper back). This is due to the orientation of the spinous processes (the bony protrusions you feel when you touch someone's spine). The spinous processes in the lumbar region are short and are oriented posteriorly (toward the back). Those in the thoracic region are longer and are oriented downward. When you move into spinal extension (a backbend), each thoracic spinous process butts up against the one below it, limiting your range of motion. This explains why my thoracic spine looks kind of flat, rather than arced, in the photo.
Look at the image (from Judith Hanson Lasater's Yoga Body) to the right of the photo. Note that the spinous processes of the lowest three thoracic vertebrae (labeled T10, T11, and T12 in anatomical terms) aren’t as long as and don’t slope down as far as the other thoracic spinous processes. Their exact shape and orientation vary from individual to individual, but the shorter they are and the less they slope down the more hyper-mobile this region will be. As you can see in the photo, like most human spines, my thoracic spine doesn’t bend backward very much. Like most trained yoga practitioners, I've learned to elongate my lumbar spine in a backbend. HOWEVER, I am fairly mobile in the region of T10-T12 (we can infer that those spinous processes are short and don’t curve down much) and my mobility there manifests as a sharp angle in my backbends. (Notice also that my ribcage is displaced to make room—my lower front ribs are a bit “puffy.” If I knitted them together, I’d have a more even arc in my backbend.)
For a really extreme demonstration of this phenomenon, go to http://esutra.blogspot.com/2006/01/yoga-girl-video.html. (And, no, I CANNOT do that. Not even close.)