Lithe Movement

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We often see yoga pictures of lithe bodies moving through what appears to be impossible in serene ways. I was this, I did this – not with the skill of a dancer or a acrobat – but still in the full knowledge and pride that I could do what a lot of adults in the west could not. And I won’t lie to you, I still have moments of grace. But injury has made me explore more deeply what movement works for me. This creates forms that may not always look like the poses in pictures.

I know what I am doing in this picture is still not accessible to a lot if people, but part of me looks at it and thinks my feet should be all the way down. Even though only having the heels down feels better for me at this time. It allows me to move in a way that works for me. Isn’t this what so many of us are working on? Finding our way to move in this world that works for us? That doesn’t harm others? And then inhabiting it without shame?

A Small Rain

I have decided to practice outside as much as possible as walking is still difficult for me. There was an older woman on Humans of New York who once side wonderful things happen when you go outside, so now that I am starting to feel better I am making an effort to get outside and do small explorations. That being said, into every life a little rain must fall. It is needed for growth.20140713-155002-57002017.jpg

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My eye view, yoga

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I am not a traditionalist. I question sometimes whether I want to call what I do and teach yoga, rather than deeply influenced by yoga. However, my linguistics teacher taught me long ago that definitions are decided by groups and the meanings of words change, and I believe, most Americans would call what I do yoga. It is interesting, in my past regarding certain areas I have been a traditionalist. Now I feel that one must always take one’s environment into account. Environment drives evolution; biological and otherwise. There are schools of yoga that talks about where the gaze should rest. This is where my gaze should rest. In connection with my planet.

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Playing with Space

Where I continue to post pictures of what I place around me when I practice yoga. Small things that have developed meaning.

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I have been working on finding focus, a sense of direction, recently. This space speaks to that. The pendulum taps into the subconscious, the black feather ink pen gives voice, the peacock feathers are the integration of creativity – from an adult student dance performance, and you have to go where your feet point.

Crazy wisdom body: pain, injury and practising with what is

Originally posted on Jess’s practice blog:

“There is nothing that does not grow light through habit and familiarity. Putting up with little cares, I’ll train myself to bear with great adversity.”—Shantideva

For a period of my astanga life, I referred to my practice as ‘the path of pain’. I was joking, but only a bit. The path of pain was nothing to do with masochism. I tried very hard not to hurt myself and I got intensely frustrated when I hurt myself anyway. The more I endeavoured to move ‘forwards’, the more I seemed to be pushed ‘backwards’ into a situation increasingly ‘imited’ by injury.

I was told that astanga injuries are the result of aggressive practice – an observation in some instances with sound foundation. I believed that in some subtle way, beneath my conscious awareness, I must be forcing my body. But this was puzzling because I would watch more robust types pushing…

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