August 2024 – Frantic Shanti

Reconsidering Yoga Adjustments

^{(Title image: Photo by Shashi Chaturvedula on Unsplash)}

There is an expectation in the US that yoga practitioners are all young and flexible with great balance, but we know that’s not the case. Many people who might benefit the most from a yoga practice are certainly not.

When I started Yoga Teacher Training (YTT), there were two assumptions that most of us made:

“Full expression of the pose” is not accessible to every yoga practitioner.
(Photo by Carl Barcelo on Unsplash)

Every yogi strives for the “full expression of the pose”, suggesting that there is one perfect way to perform a yoga asana.
An important responsibility of a yoga teacher is to move students into the full expression of the pose, using hands-on adjustments if necessary.

Those two assumptions may:
(1) discourage students from yoga practice, particularly when you consider that yoga originally developed as a practice for men, and asanas do not necessarily take into consideration the female body (or diverse body shapes) even though the majority of practitioners in the US are female; and (2) may compel newly-minted yoga teachers to push students into positions that are wrong for their body shapes and can cause harm to them.

During YTT, however, we learned that the “full expression of the pose” as a concept was no longer taught and teachers were discouraged to refer to asanas in that way, no doubt in an effort to be more welcoming to a broad range of people.

My person belief is that hands-on adjustments are not necessary for yoga under most circumstances.
(Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash)

We also learned how to do hands-on adjustments. The idea was that you needed to check with the student whether they wanted to be adjusted.

However, I myself have received adjustments in classes that I hadn’t requested or agreed to. It’s never been harmful to me and generally felt good, especially in settings where I couldn’t check my form in a mirror. Futhermore, the classes tended to be higher level, so there was probably an assumption on the part of the instructor that you’re in a more intense class for a reason, otherwise you’d be in a lower level class.

But you can probably see where I’m going with this. I tended to be one of the oldest students in these classes. I’ve done yoga (and a range of other exercise modalities) for decades, but my flexibility and balance have taken a hit from cancer treatment and various injuries. Unless a teacher is sensitive to that, we can run into trouble.

Additionally, I’ve seen less-experienced students attend more difficult classes because they were coming with a friend or couldn’t get to the easier class that they wanted, and decided to just “do their best”. That should always be good enough without putting a student at harm.

Yogis come in different shapes, sizes and levels of flexibility…and that’s okay.
(Photo by LOGAN WEAVER | @LGNWVR on
Unsplash)

My personal feeling? Stick with gentle verbal adjustments to relay the spirit of the asana and cue according to the class’ level, understanding that students will have varying ranges of flexibility. I do not feel comfortable doing hands-on adjustments unless the student is requesting it AND I know the student well enough to be familiar with their limitations, if any. That means verbal adjustment for students in a general class vs. POSSIBLY hands-on adjustments for a student that I’m teaching privately, where we can talk through how the asana feels in their body. Quite often, I will forgo hands-on adjusting altogether.

Finally, I leave you with a quote from the YogaUOnline.com website. Charlotte Bell proposes a difference definition of “full expression”, in an excellent article titled, What is Full Expression in Yoga Practice?: “Full expression arises in a pose when our bodies are aligned such that the wave of the breath is free to circulate throughout the body. It also happens when we have invested our full attention into the sensations arising as we move and breathe in the pose. The full expression is not dependent on what a pose looks like.”

“I Can’t Do It…But If I Could…”

^{(Title image: Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash)}

What would that feel like?

After a few weeks away for a funeral in my hometown, it’s not so simple to jump back into what I was doing before.

This has led to some ‘motivation’ issues (complicated by the grieving process, no doubt). As a result, I’ve been reviewing how I tackle difficult tasks. Before I undertake anything that I consider less palatable, it’s not unusual for me to have some sort of visceral reaction to the idea of the task. I think this is true for many of us. And we might not even be aware that this is taking place.

Encountering resistance to initating projects?
(Photo by Peyman Shojaei on Unsplash)

But if that response is strong enough and negative enough, it can shut down the possibility of accomplishing the task in front of us.

If we can’t get past that point, we don’t tackle the things we should. Unfortunately, those may be the kinds of things that help us grow personally, professionally, health-wise and the like.

So I have a suggestion for you. The next time you have that “ugh, I can’t do that” reaction, stop and consider:

* But…what if I could?
* How would I go about taking care of that? What steps would I take?
* What would it feel like to know that I was doing it?
* How great would it feel to be done?

When you start answering these questions for yourself, several things happen. You introduce the possibility of starting, making it less daunting. Sometimes that’s the hardest part. You open up a path for moving forward, breaking down what needs to be done into small steps. You may imagine yourself taking care of things and bring them into reality.

So what does this look like? Take cleaning as an example, something that I usually put off. “House cleaning” as a concept may seem like a monolithic undertaking. There are so many other things that I’d like to be doing, and many of them important. But consider, what might it be like to just, say, grab the vacuum cleaner and vacuum one area…yeah, that seems doable. And maybe after that, just empty some trash cans. How would it feel to do that? Not to get bogged down in the process but to move through it.

The “Done” List

Try a different kind of list. Instead of (or in addition to) a “to-do” list, make a “done” list. Write down everything you’ve accomplished. It can feel really good to see what you’ve done and more positive than simply crossing off items on a “to-do” list since you’re adding accomplishments instead of taking away tasks.

Note your accomplishments instead of simply crossing out tasks.
(Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash)

If you have a particularly difficult time getting motivated, split your already-split-up tasks up into even smaller parts: instead of waiting until you’ve “vacuumed the house” to write it down, note that you “vaccuumed the entry way”, “vacuumed the front part of the living room”, even “vaccumed the doormat”. It counts. Because no matter what you’ve done, it’s still better than not having done anything, even if it’s just one thing.

Let your own need for putting completed tasks behind you be the guide for how granular to get with this.

I do this when I clean. And, yes, my go-to is the vacuum to get started. Or sometimes the toilet. But it could also be doing the dishes, something that I’ve actually dreaded in the past but realized that it takes a surprisingly short time. Our brains are what stop us from proceeding so make the process rewarding to your gray matter.

Many of the tasks that we don’t undertake are simpler, easier and take less time than we anticipate (or fear!). The key is to not psych ourselves out, instead breaking them down into bite-sized pieces and recognizing their completion as a reality. Even if you don’t do it all, you’ve done part, bouyed by the knowledge that it doesn’t have to be perfect to count. This builds positive associations with getting things done.

No matter how much you do, it’s all good.

Staying Present in Discomfort: Being Here When You’d Rather Not

^{Title image: Photo by Tolga Ulkan on Unsplash}

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Thank you everyone for your patience during this time of my father’s passing from cancer and dementia. I have appreciated the quiet visit to my childhood home, supporting my mother and being comforted by close friends and relatives.
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There are times that the present moment is an uncomfortable place to be in.

That’s when things are not going well and you want the current situation to be over so that you can move past it and onto healing. But one could argue that this is exactly the time you need to sink even deeper into the present moment.

And even more important to get more granular and still. To observe what is going on even more closely. To understand the important of this very point in time, how it will never come again in the same way. And even in this discomfort there is something to learn, something to lean into, something to accept.

I felt this strain while my father was still in in-home hospice, declining at a pace that was both quick and slow depending on what you’re focusing on. It evoked an axiety in me: wanting to hold on to him and save him–but knowing that this was an impossibility. The tug of time is unrelenting, taking everything with it like a glacier or a tsunami that continues onward no matter what is in its way.

But this is also an opportunity to remember that the impermanence of life does not take away from the joy and beauty of it. Dropping down into what is happening right now, taking a front seat on top of that glacier/tsunami, and allowing everything to be here is the way to appreciate all of this.

So while I would rather that the things that were happening not be happening, I couldn’t stop them. I sat here trying to understand my feelings and allowing gratitude for my father’s long life to remain in the forefront. There was peace in knowing that he was living his last days at home, in familiar surroundings with my mother there.

I could have made all sorts of stories up about what he was feeling or thinking, but the reality is that I didn’t know. So I didn’t pretend and instead noticed the sounds around me, the feeling of the air on my skin and the knowledge that my father’s imminent passing unscored all the many things about him and my own life that I have to be thankful for.

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It’s easier to ignore reality and think about other things, but that doesn’t help us deal with them.