Hot buttered epiphanies
Mar. 19th, 2011 12:08 pm(No, I haven't been doing Shiva Nata lately. But really hunkering down into yoga has some similar effects.)
1. Any time I'm supposed to bring my arms up, the point is a tall spine and a sense of space in the shoulders. Until I can get the muscles in my neck to stop firing, either holding my arms straight out (rising until I hit the neck muscles) or dropping my arms behind me in a bind is a much better personal option.
2. I hate blocks (the foam ones to help with yoga poses) because they encourage me to put weight on my arm. In all the poses one can use a hand on a block, the instructor ends up saying "take your weight off your arm." I'm much better off just never touching the ground in Triangle unless I can do so with my arm hanging free. It's just more core strength practice, which I need.
3. I have learned to feel more proud of reaching less far. Specifically, if I realize I'm not reaching as far as usual, it's always because I'm protecting my spine and height better, so I am learning to kick ass at form. I am now going, "I only managed to reach four inches today! WOW, that's great!"
4 and most important: By being the person only reaching four inches, and looking really happy about it, I am giving someone else permission to not reach very far, and modeling good form. I remember being new and anxious in other classes and thinking "oh thank god someone else can't reach." I also remember thinking "oh poor them, they must be so embarrassed," but I never remember thinking that about anyone clearly in perfect form with a blissed-out grin on their face. By being true to my limits, I am improving the mental hygiene of the entire class.
I'm incredibly grateful that, in the first class I attended this month, three of the five other yogis had a folded rug on the mat through all of class for knee support. I tried it because I saw them do it first; it's the single most key modification for me, in terms of thinking about form instead of thinking "ow ow ow my bony knees on the ground.'' I do it every class, and I hope someone else picks it up from me. Learning to do modifications without apology, thinking of it as double-success instead of failure, has been huge for me.
1. Any time I'm supposed to bring my arms up, the point is a tall spine and a sense of space in the shoulders. Until I can get the muscles in my neck to stop firing, either holding my arms straight out (rising until I hit the neck muscles) or dropping my arms behind me in a bind is a much better personal option.
2. I hate blocks (the foam ones to help with yoga poses) because they encourage me to put weight on my arm. In all the poses one can use a hand on a block, the instructor ends up saying "take your weight off your arm." I'm much better off just never touching the ground in Triangle unless I can do so with my arm hanging free. It's just more core strength practice, which I need.
3. I have learned to feel more proud of reaching less far. Specifically, if I realize I'm not reaching as far as usual, it's always because I'm protecting my spine and height better, so I am learning to kick ass at form. I am now going, "I only managed to reach four inches today! WOW, that's great!"
4 and most important: By being the person only reaching four inches, and looking really happy about it, I am giving someone else permission to not reach very far, and modeling good form. I remember being new and anxious in other classes and thinking "oh thank god someone else can't reach." I also remember thinking "oh poor them, they must be so embarrassed," but I never remember thinking that about anyone clearly in perfect form with a blissed-out grin on their face. By being true to my limits, I am improving the mental hygiene of the entire class.
I'm incredibly grateful that, in the first class I attended this month, three of the five other yogis had a folded rug on the mat through all of class for knee support. I tried it because I saw them do it first; it's the single most key modification for me, in terms of thinking about form instead of thinking "ow ow ow my bony knees on the ground.'' I do it every class, and I hope someone else picks it up from me. Learning to do modifications without apology, thinking of it as double-success instead of failure, has been huge for me.