Every month or so, I get an email from a person who's looking for a Mysore style Ashtanga Yoga program in the Northampton area (I used to teach one for about a decade) and I have to give them the sad news that our program at Ashtanga Yoga Northampton ended in the Summer of 2020, and that there's no Mysore program in the Noho area, or really, at all in Western Mass.*

Well before the pandemic hit, I had come to terms with the fact that the Mysore program I ran was an unsustainable business model. (See this article from 2013 by Peg Mulqueen outlining why it's not as lucrative as teaching group classes.)

My husband, who is a very wise and successful businessman, would shake his head ruefully whenever I shared what I earned after expenses each month. I generally only shared what I made if it had been a good month - it was that disheartening for him. But, I'd laugh at his silent consternation, and gently give him a kiss of gratitude on the cheek, while saying, "Just consider that I'm running the nonprofit wing of the Ryan Family."

Admittedly, teaching Mysore style was exhausting: getting up 4 or 5 mornings a week in the dark, and driving 30-40 minutes to open the studio for the early students. On our busiest mornings, there'd be about 20 people who'd show up during the three hour window of practice time. On the slow days, only 8-10 people would come to class. We sold a lot of very reasonably priced unlimited monthly passes, which were very affordable - a steal really, if you came to class at least 3 times a week. And we had several scholarship students. Not profitable, not sustainable. But, very sweet, nonetheless. Oh well. Capitalism.

We soldiered on until the pandemic shut us down, finally. And I must admit, I was grateful for it: I was knackered out, exhausted from a decade of trying to make it work. But, I loved to teach Mysore, up until the very end, and really didn't want to quit. It took a global pandemic to shut us down: I am that stubborn.
James never quite understood that it wasn't about earning money for me, but rather, the "payment" came through the intense fulfillment of real human connections I made as a Mysore teacher, and especially, the dear, sweet sense of strong community - one built during quiet, silent moments of deep concentration, in instances of stress-relieving, lighthearted, shared humor, and in heartfelt groupwide appreciations or murmurs of support or encouragement. We gloried in our fellow practitioners overcoming a longstanding challenge, whether it be physical or emotional. And, we all "knew" each other's Ashtanga practices: the ways our bodies and minds were eased and challenged and molded over many months and years by the yoga. We were all in it together. Very sweet. True community.

All of this was possible only because it happened in a container of deep trust and commitment to each other, and because of our mutual love of the Ashtanga modality of yoga - really, of vinyasa, that glorious innovation of Krishnamacharya's: breath and movement melded in a grand and glorious unity, to create something sublime, to birth the state of yoga.

Yes, the postures were spectacularly challenging sometimes, but ultimately, the focus wasn't so much on "doing the postures", but rather, doing the postures *while* purposefully focusing more on the simple but profoundly transformative practice of breathing "freely, with sound".

(The word I said most in that room was "Breathe!")

But, alas, there is a tendency towards egoic hierarchies of domination that can potentially manifest in these same spaces, and the ableist and ageist pitfalls one can fall into, especially if one is a newer Ashtanga teacher, too. Nothing is perfect, if humans are involved, after all! But, these pitfalls can be easily avoided if we let our egos dissolve, and it's such a brilliant system, Ashtanga can and will do that for you, if you surrender to it, that is - ishvarapranidhanad va!

Sadly, this method of learning yoga, which is really quite traditional to how it's taught in India, pre-capitalist as it were, was soooo hard to explain to prospective students. It's almost impossible to help folks understand how the Mysore Ashtanga was absolutely so much better for those learning it or new to yoga, than an Ashtanga class that went through the full series all at once - that it slowed the learning process down into smaller chunks that most folks could grock more easily and safely - so much that it was a brilliant method for everyone, no matter how old, no matter how fit or not. "Semi-private yoga geared to YOU in a group setting" is as close as I got to explaining it -and still people would look at me in a pleased confusion when asked what it is I "did" for "work."

"Why not come to a class and watch?" I'd say, and the rare person who came to watch would be blown away by the sheer beauty of breath and human bodies of all kinds in motion - so unlike any other yoga class they'd ever been too - but, still, so intimidated they would be afraid to return.

No, most folks need sound bites and bullet points and pictures, and the anonymity of being lost in a group of practitioners all doing the same thing simultaneously, maybe with a little hip-hop groove added to numb the mind a bit, too. Nuance is lost in bullet points. Even what I am describing right now doesn't actually describe the deep, subtle, intense, lovely and profound experience of being in a committed and longstanding Mysore room with steady veteran practitioners and earnest newbies, all being shepherded by a wise, kind and sensible teacher/practitioner holding the space. Hence, why I still get emails from hopeful students, and while I still feel a bit brokenhearted when I have to tell them, "No, I don't teach a Mysore program any more."

*I think, but am not sure, that Sruti Yoga in Great Barrington, still offers a session once or twice a week. Go support them, if you can!

We've had an odd winter, with fluctuating temperatures and not a lot of snow. (As much as some would want to deny it, climate change is real, and if you're tuned into the Earth, you'll sense something definitely feels out of whack.) According to Ayurveda, it's exactly when the weather fluctuates or seems "not right" for the season that our bodies get confused and lose equilibrium. Ayurveda - the "sister science of yoga" - believes that food is medicine. Thus, eating nourishing, grounding winter veggie soups right now is a great way to help maintain balance of mind and body.

I make this soup for lunch, at least once a week all year long, using seasonal produce so that it's appropriately balancing whatever time of year it might be. It’s quick, taking less than 20 minutes from start to finish, and perfect when you want to feel deeply nourished and satisfied, but not full or bloated.

This seasonal "Winter Warming" version  is rich, hearty and stew-like, and helps to balance vata dosha, the air and space elements of our bodies, which are easily sent out of whack during this wildly fluctuating New England Winter weather. I’ve included chopped carrots and fennel, and chopped kale. The colors are lovely, sunny and bright. Served with or without basmati rice, it’s a perfectly satisfying, delicious meal!

Winter Warming Chick Pea & Red Lentil Soup
Serves 4
3 TBS olive oil (alternatively, you could use ghee if you’re not vegan)
1 1/2 Tsp fennel seeds
1 1/2 Tsp coriander seeds
1 1/2 Tsp cumin seeds
1 Tsp ground turmeric
Pinch of hing or asaphoetida
2 TBS tomato paste
2 carrots, cut into thin slices or 1/2 inch cubes
5-6 inches of leek, cleaned and chopped into short ribbons (omit if you’re avoiding alliums - but if so, double the hing!)
1/2 of a medium head of fennel (chop the delicate fennel fronds if you have them, to use as garnish!)
1 cup red lentils, rinsed well in several washes until the water runs clear, then drained
1 can chick peas, rinsed well and drained.
4-6 cups of water, depending upon how thick you like your soup.
1/2-1 tsp salt to taste
Black pepper to taste
Totally Optional:
1 cup chopped fresh greens like spinach, chard or dino kale
1/2 a can of coconut milk
Dried unsweetened organic coconut, for garnish

In a warming dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot, add oil or ghee, then leeks, carrots, and fennel., and sweat for a bit until they take on a shine, 2-3 minutes. Heat should be medium-low, and make sure that the leeks (if using) don’t char. 

Meanwhile, place coriander, fennel and cumin seeds in a mortar and pestle, and grind until they’ve broken down considerably (they need not become a powder, but you want to break up the coriander seeds fairly well; if you don’t have a mortar and pestle, you can use powdered versions of these spices, but reduce to 1 Tsp each.)

Add spices to the cooking veggies, along with the turmeric and hing. Stir for 2-3 minutes, then add tomato paste. Stir again for 2 minutes to coat veggies, then add rinsed red lentils and chick peas and salt. Stir to coat everything for 30 seconds, then add water, scraping the pot well to incorporate everything.

Bring to a low simmer, cover the pot and cook 20 minutes, or until the red lentils have begun to disintegrate. This soup is really hearty enough on it’s own, but if you want to make it even more rich, add up to a half a can of coconut milk about halfway through, and stir to combine.

Check to see that the soup is not getting dried out or boiling down too quickly—add more water as necessary to maintain a stew-like consistency. Root veggies should be cooked through, but not mushy. Once the red lentils and carrots are cooked, if desired, add a cup of chopped greens and stir.
​
Take the pot off the heat once they greens are bright and heated through. Adjust salt & pepper to taste, and serve topped with a scattering of the dried coconut (which in this picture looks a lot like parmesan, but truly isn't!) the fennel fronds if you’ve got them (I've added a big dash of Herbal Salt from Burlington, VT's excellent Railyard Apothecary) plus a tiny pinch of turmeric. Enjoy!

Nadi shodhana (sometimes called "alternate nostril breathing", often called "nerve purification" but literally meaning "channel" or even "tube" cleansing) was highly recommended by the "root guru" of the yoga lineages I teach, the "Father of Modern Yoga" TKV Krishnamacharya, seen above practicing nadi shodhana at age 87. This is a safe, effective pranayama practice for mental clarity, for calming the mind and body, for dealing with stress, anxiety, fear. It is also a preparatory practice for deeper and more challenging pranayama practices. From my own experience as a dedicated daily nadi shodhana practitioner of about 20 years, and from teaching it to many students over the past decade, it is the easiest, gentlest and most effective form of pranayama, accessible to all, when done correctly. Folks with high blood pressure and who are pregnant may do this practice without any retentions/holding of the breath. ​

-To practice nadi shodhana, sit comfortably, and ideally, relax your shoulders, soften your jaw, breath gently, and make a mudra with your right hand, called vishnu mudra.
​(If Vishnu Mudra doesn't work, simply use the thumb and forefinger of the right hand, or alternatively, place the middle and index fingers of the right hand on your third eye/brow, and use the thumb and ring/pinky from that angle.) 

-Breathe in a relaxed way, fully and deeply through both nostrils, for a few breaths. 

-Then, block your right nostril with the right thumb (not at the "hole" but further up closer to the place where the soft tissue meets the bone.) Inhale gently and slowly through the left nostril until comfortably "filled up", then block the left nostril as well with your right ring and pinky fingers.

-Softly retain the breath on the inhale for a brief moment, then release your thumb and exhale through the right nostril slowly and fully. Then, inhale through the right nostril, another soft, very brief inhale retention with both nostrils closed, and finally, exhale fully out the left. This is one round.  Practice nadi shodhana for 3-6 rounds.

-Finish nadi shodhana by exhaling out of the left nostril on the last round, then drop your hand, breathe through both nostrils a few times, and notice how you feel. Then go about the rest of your day, ideally with more clarity and vitality.

Practice Notes & Tips: The inhales and exhales should be even in length and quality. Never force, don't strain: simply follow the prana as it flows, from one nostril to the next, back and forth, up and down, as you relax and breathe fully. Ideally, the breath length should be a minimum of 5 seconds for the inhale and 5 seconds exhale. The length of the breath can be extended  as you become more proficient, but again, never strain to do so.

Remember, don't abuse yourself or compete with yourself with any yoga practice. Be gentle, and care for the temple of your mind and body by taking it slow and easy, never forcing. Do 3-6 rounds with a 10 second breath (5/5) every day for a month and develop a good habit. Then perhaps try to increase as you feel ready to longer breaths for the next month, increasing until your breathing is slow, steady and easy. Our ancestors had much slower breaths than we modern domesticated humans do, and so perhaps one way for you to help our planet as an individual is to slow down and be mindful about your own breathing in this simple way! The slow and steady approach is better than blasting yourself with many, many rounds a few days, and then never doing it again. Dedicated, daily practice and repetition is key to learning and key to proficiency in ANYTHING. Give it a try.  

I cleanse my body every Spring the Ayurvedic way, following a simple monodiet protocol of kitchari, daily abhyanga, gentle yoga, and an earlier bedtime for 5-7 days! Never done a cleanse? A plethora of Spring cleanse options are available online, and I endorse these trusted ones: be guided by or cleanse collectively with Alicia Hunter, Kate O’Donnell, or Dr. Vasant Lad. 

And if you just don’t feel like doing a cleanse, but want to eat a little cleaner, try my favorite kitchari recipe for a couple of days, along with yoga and bed time, for a mini reset. 

Michelle’s Kitchari Recipe (adapted from the Ayurvedic Center of Vermont's One Pot Kitchari Recipe)

This is a great recipe that I've done dozens of times and really love. It can be made all in one pot by skipping the tempering of the ghee with the ground spices in a separate pan by simply adding these all to the pot instead.

• 1/2 cup white basmati rice
• 1/2 cup split mung beans/yellow split dhal (adjust ratio of rice to dhal based on your needs)
• 7+ cups water
• 1/3 cup shredded unsweetened coconut
• 2 inches fresh ginger root, grated or diced (or 1 tsp dried powdered ginger if you don't have fresh)
• 2 inches fresh turmeric root, grated or diced (or 1 tsp dried powdered turmeric if you don't have fresh)
• 1/8 teaspoon asafoetida aka hing (optional)
• Seasonal veggies - carrots, zucchini, squash, fennel bulb, chard, kale, bok choy, cilanatro, etc. -approx. 2 cups

Tempered ghee 

• 1  teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
• 1 tsp ground turmeric (yes, more turmeric!)
  
• 2 tablespoon ghee 
• 8-10 curry leaves (optional)

Finishing

• 1 cup greens (use bitter ones, like dandelions, for Spring Cleansing!)
• cilantro leaves, more shredded coconut, a wedge of lime, sautéed greens, more tempered ghee if your cholesterol is low.
• Salt to taste (no more than 2 tsp - and 1 tsp max if you are pitta predominant) 
• Other optional spices, including curry powder, garam masala, bay leaf, black pepper

​

1. Wash and rinse rice and dhal in a deep steel pot or dutch over thoroughly with cold water, 2-3 times, draining off cloudy water each time. 
2. Add 7 cups of water to pot and bring to a gentle boil for 5-10 min. Skim off most/all of the foam that forms.
3. Lower heat and add the chopped ginger, turmeric and the ground coconut. If using beets, add them at this time, too.Cook for 10 minutes.
4. Add remaining veggies except the greens. Stir occasionally to prevent sticking.
5. While kitchari cooks, grind spices in a spice grinder, or a mortar and pestle. (You may substitute powdered spices for whole in the same amounts, if necessary.) In a small pan, melt ghee and add spices, and curry leaves if you have them. Warm on medium-low until spices are fragrant, then set aside off heat. Be careful not to scorch the spices! 
6. Stir this "tempered" ghee into the pot. Add the hing and salt to taste. Cook 5 minutes. 
7. At this point, the kitchari should be getting fairly thick, so test for doneness - it should be very soft. If not, add more water, and cook until it reaches a consistency you prefer, from hearty stew to a thinner nourishing light soup. More water, more soup-like!
8. Stir in the greens until they wilt (or alternatively steam your greens separately and add on top when serving.) Taste and add more water or any more of the suggested spices. 
9. Serve in bowls, topped with cilantro and a wedge of lime, some shredded coconut, and maybe a pinch of curry powder. Sometimes I temper a tsp of ghee with a pinch or two of whole fennel, coriander and cumin to add on top as well (see image.) Enjoy!

The thing we have all been conditioned to believe about menopause is that once we are no longer fertile, we are nothing, worthless, in this society. It's just not true! (Die patriarchy.) Meanwhile, I will share are story that, when I first heard it, gave me a sense of empowerment and hope. Even if you find it to be a tad too "woo woo," it is nevertheless a good way of explaining our reality, or rather, a good story to help understand a woman’s body at each of its stages - and to heal your relationship with it, perhaps. It's shared with that goal. Here goes:

Women are blessed by the bodies they are born into because those bodies have the *potential* for transformation into distinct stages, bodily forms, not just once, but several times during the life of that body. With each transformation comes the ability to also transform and evolve/grow the mind - in wisdom, compassion and power

The body/mind of a child evolves into the body/mind of the *potentially* fertile woman upon onset of menses. The body that experiences menses and chooses to sensitize itself to that experience fully can become attuned to the movements of the moon - hence menses, which means “month” ultimately “moon.” Because the blood flows downwards each month, naturally without our mentally willing it, the body can become attuned to and connected to the earth, too. Hence, the fertile body has the potential to connect deeply with its biome. So, menses is a wonderful thing, the blood is not dirty but cleanses, and is a great blessing, it is not a "curse" as we have been told (again, Die Patriarchy), but I won't go into why here. 

The fertile young body can become a new body before menopause, as it sometimes may become pregnant with new life. Pregnancy, in other words, creates a new body, another stage to inhabit and explore for a time, experiencing the sacred and mysterious sharing of the body with another human, intimately, as well as becoming the portal for new life and the experience of labor and delivery. Not all obtain a fertile body, nor do all explore the opportunity of the pregnancy body  - either through choice or circumstance. Nor does the life-bearing body signify that the identity associated with that body is somehow "more of a woman". Not at all. It is just a body (besides, the soul housed in it is genderless, ultimately.) If it is someone’s fate to bring new life into this plane of existence, great - but the pregnant body is just another potential body/form - that is all. Still, this form is also abused by patriarchy, as the control and management of the pregnant body has been ripped from those who experience it, although I sense lately a positive shift towards the sovereignty of the pregnant body. (Again, Die, die Patriarchy.)

Meanwhile, the body of the fertile young woman is most valued in modern culture, if “value” is even a good term for it. Still, we can all sense that we are conditioned by patriarchy to admire and desire that stage of the body most of all - and conversely, to judge and even hate our bodies if they do not fit this “ideal.” Yet this body cannot escape patriarchy, either, because it is objectified by its admiration—that is, it may be admired, but its sovereignty and autonomy is not respected. Yes, it is the body that is most often sought to fulfill desire, or even “love” - but I suspect rather, that the form of love or desire is wrapped up in “ownership” far too often. If that body resists ownership, then that body is sometimes destroyed by those who cannot handle being told, “No.”

Still, it is the ideal of our forms, and thus, far too many of us try to sustain this youthful body well beyond its shelf life, and we exhaust and deplete ourselves when we do so - which is why when we finally hit menopause, the “change” becomes so very difficult for many of us. Mostly because we approach it with anxiety, dread, fear, grief and loathing born of conditioning, and we enter it depleted and exhausted because our society usually puts the greatest burdens and responsibilities upon us during the time of life just before menopause, too. All of us are expected to work very hard to sustain our own lives, careers, families, homes, fearful of not “having it all” - and in the West at least, women at this stage do not enjoy the aid and comfort of the wise woman elders of our society, which historically up until very recently helped shoulder these great burdens.

Not only are most of us alone in managing this responsibilities during this very busy time, we are also conditioned to punish, abuse, starve, sculpt, stretch, shape, abrade, and generally do violence upon our bodies in order to sustain the idealized "fertile maiden" body for as long as possible. (I did this, too, for too long.) When, in fact, we should be resting as much as we can *whenever* we feel tired, in order to sustain/build resiliency to manage the next change: menopause.

So, the body of the child and the body of the pregnant woman are not as valued as the fertile young woman here. But, the body of the elder woman is the least valued, if at all, in our culture. Many of us in society, regardless of how we identify ourselves, perceive the body of the old woman as abhorrent. Many of us don’t even acknowledge it at all: the menopausal woman becomes invisible - and thus, unseen, nothing, worthless. The menopausal body is thus feared and looked upon with disgust, dismay and grief by those who are fated to inhabit it. Die die die die patriarchy. 

But, the menopausal body is the body of the wise woman elder. The body that has experienced loss and joy, grief and happiness, the body that has learned lessons and experienced shocks and sufferings and gained resilience, patience, compassion, empathy and yes, wisdom - deep, deep wisdom - and with those life experiences, great power, too. Menopause, the stage of the wise woman elder, is something to be celebrated, not feared. We come into our own. 

Dismantling this old story of oppression and negation, a false and evil story that tells us that the ONLY the body afforded a questionable “value” is the one we inhabit when we are young, fertile and beautiful, is a truly vital part of dismantling and ending the oppression of ourselves as individuals, oppression of women, and the hierarchy of domination and control that mostly men have over women and children on this planet, too, and all the systems upon which this domination have been built.

I heard this story a decade ago, albeit, my teacher, Nancy Gilgoff, just touched upon the stages for me, and shared the idea of the different "bodies" and the blessings of each body; the rest here are my words, born of a decade of ruminating upon the story and digesting it. But, it shifted something in me when I heard it; before it, I had been afraid of menopause, sensed it looming ahead of me with dread and anxiety. But, once heard, I thought long and hard about this story, and it was the beginning of an emancipation that literally changed who I was, changed my relationships with my husband and children, made them more healthy and whole. And, it changed how I experienced menopause, too. Once I digested this story, I found I no longer feared menopause, and actually looked forward to what was coming. And, I had an easier time than most. I entered into it finally this past year: my last menses was in February. I am so happy and proud to be a wise woman elder now. 

In short, it's important that we understand how we've been conditioned to fear menopause. And I tell you, dear friends, even if you are in the midst of it now (and if you are, Congratulations, I am happy for you, and you are most welcome to this stage, my sister!) it is never too late to embrace your menopausal body: the beautiful body of the wise woman elder. And, it’s never too late to embrace and embody your inherent power—a power which goes beyond all forms.

I love this new body, this stage of life, and the wisdom and power it holds. This body is beautiful and strong and rooted in awareness of its true value and its rightful place in the consensus reality we share. This body gives NO fucks. This body is unafraid to speak truth to power. This body is wise and wonderful, and sweet and soft if it wants to be, but underneath, is as strong and resilient as the roots of a strong, tall, majestic and dignified tree or mountain.

If what happened in our nation's capitol this past Wednesday angered, saddened and disturbed you, and made you feel helpless, then I offer this story to you for your emancipation and empowerment, regardless of your gender identity. Digest it, and perhaps some day you will embrace it, too, or not. It's just a story. But, we need new stories to help free ourselves from the old, limiting, oppressive stories of a weary world which keep us enslaved and hating our bodies, perhaps addicted to the gaze of objectification, in thrall to society’s judgment of our bodies, or suffering from self-loathing, at every stage of our lives.

​This story freed me; I hope it frees you, too. May we all find our way. 

I know how frustrating knee pain is, and am so sorry for anyone coming here seeking advice for it's alleviation. I had pain in lotus/padmasana with my inner left knee for about two years, a decade or so ago. And, while it was frustrating as hell, I learned a lot about the practice - and myself - through this injury. (Injuries can be the best teachers!)

When I was teaching Mysore style Ashtanga from 2010-2020, I often saw this issue in students who had experience in asana before coming to study with me, that is, those who had gotten to the point of the practice where they were doing lotus/padmasana multiple times during every practice. Generally, their knees had began taking on too much torque from the hips during the posture for a variety of reasons, and that longterm micro-trauma ultimately resulted in knee pain.

I'd been practicing for about ten years before my own knee pain manifested, and it hurt and it was really frustrating. To have to "back off" was something that my assertive, pitta personality refused to even consider. And, for months, like a good pitta predominant person, I scoured the internet and complained to my teachers, and tried everything to "fix" the problem - from daily deep hip opening sequences on top of my Ashtanga practice, to glute and thigh strengthening PT movements, to deep tissue massage, cranio sacral therapy, acupuncture, chiropractic adjustments. You name it, I tried it ALL for about six months in my desire (attachment, raga, one of the kleshas  or obstacles to enlightenment) to regain the progress I'd seemingly "lost."

Alas, no amount of hip opening, no PT exercises, nor strengthening the muscles in my legs, nor bodywork helped. My knee still really hurt every time I tried padmasana. 

Eventually, acceptance (or maybe wisdom) kicked in, and I gave up trying to fix it. In other words, I backed off, and cultivated non-attachment/vairagya around any results or "progress" in my asana practice, and simply rested my knee and tried to just enjoy and nourish myself with my practice. I did do my full practice, and wouldn't skip the posture, but simply modified for about 6-9 months, so that the inflammation could subside fully. (I also did full body abhyanga almost daily, and recommend you do, too, with an oil that is cooling; coconut is good in the summer months as I write this, but ask an experienced Ayurvedic practitioner in your circle for a consult and recommendation of what oil you should use for your particular body type and season. Abhyanga is something most of us should be doing each day regardless of injury, imho.)

As the knee got less inflamed, I began slowly trying to bring my leg into lotus during the practice, but would never go "into" pain - because that would only bring back the inflammation, after all. Modify modify modify - and be patient. Padmasana may come back. Or, it may not. Let go. Really. Let go of the fruits of your actions and simply do your practice at a deeper level, with empathy for your body, and listening to the deep wisdom of the body, that works so hard to keep you in this plane of existence! Treat your body like a puppy that is trying to learn, and loves you unconditionally, too. In other words, don't kick or abuse it when it's not doing what you want it to do. And, I know from my own experience as a practitioner, that is something many of us tend to do in this practice.

Meanwhile. After the inflammation went down, which took about 6 months of completely backing off, I still couldn't get it beyond a certain point without feeling pain. But, one thing had changed: I began to notice that when I did urdva padmasana, it was much easier to bring my leg fully into lotus, and that there was literally NO pain when I did that posture. A mystery - why?!?

What I realized starting in that moment, and many times since, is that pattern recognition is key to much of this practice, and to moving beyond the inevitable plateaus - and injuries. What's nice about doing the sequence regularly and in a specific order is that you can really begin to see these patterns - and also their anomalies. Like my being able to do lotus upside down, but not right side up: that was an anomaly, and I noticed it because my mind had quieted enough around padmasana (finally!) - especially because I wasn't bringing myself into pain each time I did the posture. I'd accepted my current limitations, accepted what was and wasn't really trying to change anything. Vairagya. It's much harder to recognize patterns if your mind is occupied with thoughts about pain and injury, and with the raga/desire to "do the practice like I used to do it." Once I stopped striving, once I let go of trying to "get" the posture, I was able to settle my mind, its vrttis, enough to actually discover the path to healing. 

And, so, from this place of curious openness, I observed what was happening when I was in urdva padmasana, and noticed that MANY things were happening in it that weren't happening when I was seated: 

#1 I noticed my spine was VERY straight and engaged. No slumping  or rounding of the spine at all, beyond the necessary bend at the cervical spine.* Not only was my spiny VERY straight, it was fully activated, and flowingly dynamic along the main nerve channel now at the end of my practice. To sustain the inversion sequence, my bandhas were also alive and engaged - not clenched or stiff, just awakened. And, I noticed this activation and dynamism within the spinal column/shushumna nadi, changed my relationship with my pelvis, too. I could feel more stable at my base and all along my spine, even though I was inverted, and with that stability, my hips were more....open. All because I was upside-down.

#2 I was breathing more slowly in the inversion sequence/closing than in the flowing vinyasa portion of the practice - thus, calming my mind more. When I'd do the posture seated, my breathing would unconsciously begin to speed up...I'd go into fight or flight mode in response to the pain.

#3 My drishti was down my nose and soft, quieted in the inversion sequence, and this drishti had been unchanging for many asana in a row, too. This calmed my mind further, which settled or alleviated residual anxiety within my body, too, avoiding fight or flight response. When I would do padmasana seated, I noticed I'd be staring at my knee in anticipation, willing it to feel better - generally not focused on drishti at all, but preoccupied with my thoughts. Seated, my back would hunch in anticipation of the pain, my eyes would lose focus, my breath would speed up....and like Pavlov's dog, I'd be in fight/flight/freeze even before attempting to try the posture - that is, the stimulus of the memory of the posture would create a conditioned fear response that actually changed the way I built the posture!

#4 This combination of very erect, straight spine, very calm, steady breath, very focused drishti in the  inverted padmasana posture ensured that my mind was not as involved as when I did padmasana seated. My mind was, in other words, not caught up in the vrttis, the repetitive feedback loop/memory of "oh my knee hurt last time, will it hurt this time? I am afraid it will! And what a bummer if it still hurts! I'll just try it and see.... Nope, still hurts. Damn, I wish it would get better! I am bad at this, not really a good Ashtangi... How can I fix this?!" Yada yada yada, which triggered fight/flight/freeze.

(I don't like to quote him these days, because KP Jois was a teacher who hurt many students, but I must acknowledge, he did get some things right - and this statement is one of them: "The asana is correct when the mind is quiet." )

When I realized this epiphany around my fear response, the very next morning in practice, in the first seated padmasana, I came through to sit and sat very very very straight through my spine in dandasana in preparation, engaging gently through my legs, rooting within my pelvis from the crests of my sitting bones, and letting my spine rise up and hold itself up from inside with mula and uddhiyana bandha - vs tightening my hips and external rotators to keep myself erect (which is the propensity of anyone who doesn't regularly sit on the floor from childhood.) I settled my gaze softly onto a nether region a few inches from my nose. Immediately, I noticed that my hips relaxed a little bit, and my low back released some tension. Curious, and maintaining focus, and breathing slowly and steadily for several breaths, I tried to remain calm, and brought the foot into lotus...and could see that I had "gained" about 2 inches closer to my opposite hip/abdomen than the day before. Eureka!

Each day, I approached padmasana this way, gently going a hair or two closer in with my foot without pain. I still kept up with a few preliminary hip opening/PT stretches that really helped release residual hip tightness from daily living (and if you'd like to learn these, and more about my technique of rebuilding your feedback loop around injury in asana, I offer FREE virtual consulting to students who wish to learn more about my teaching methodology and who wish to study formally with me,  in 30 minute increments during my upcoming "Office Hours", starting later this month.) 

I set about rebuilding the feedback loop around the posture so that my fear response to pain didn't kick in - a fear response which would make me hunch my back in anticipation. Rounding my spine in fear, closing off the flow of energy which kept it erect, would subtly cause my my hips to contract in order keep myself upright! I also slowed my breath and actively calmed myself with a soft drishti down my nose in lotus each time, so as not to stir up the the fear vrttis.

After about a month of this, my lotus "came back" fully - in fact, even better than before. I came to realize what I'd been doing that was causing me to inflame the knee joint in the first place, and I used this method in a variety of other asana that were problematic to resolve those issues, too. And, this is how I ultimately taught lotus to students, too, taking the time with each one in the Mysore space to break down the specifics of prana management (because that is what we are doing when we are doing this practice) and the importance of spinal integrity in their asana practice. In fact, when our shala was open,  we had very few students who experienced pain in their knees, and if they did, most folks would be able to resolve it with this method.

BUT. We must be able to accept that maybe some of us are not meant to do padmasana, through no other issue than the way our bodies are formed. Some folks femurs go naturally into internal rotation within the pelvis, making padmasana a challenge, and some have femurs whose propensity for external rotation makes the posture easier. (Note, in about 99% of people who experience ease in padmasana, triyangamukha ekapada paschimottanasana is much harder, and you will notice a similar patterning around the relationship between baddhakonasana and upavishta konasana, too. Very few practitioners can do both postures within these posture groups with ease - that is, ONE of them will always be harder - because the femurs are brought to the limits of both external and internal rotation therein, and we cannot get past the way our bones are made and integrate within our bodies. Or....

abhyasa-vairagya-abhyam tan-nirodhah Y.S 1.12 

Finally, it's how we approach these so-called "limitations" that are the mark of a wise and seasoned Ashtanga practitioner - not how many spectacular asana one can do. Just enjoy your practice, and try to let it nourish you!

I hope this helps. I offer it freely as one of the many gifts that came to me from my own practice. Remember, there is no guarantee that it will work for you, but all you can do is try it, without getting too attached to the results. If you need more guidance, feel free to check in during my Office Hours, too. May we all find our way! 




*Please note that not one vertebrae of your spine, including the cervical, should be on the floor in any of the closing/inversion sequence! You must be on the back of the skull and on your shoulder bones in urdva padmasana. NOT on your neck. If you do not have a solid inversion, if any part of your cervical spine is on the floor, do not try to build lotus inverted. Simply work on creating a straight and dynamic spine, breathing mindfully, slowly and deeply, and setting your drishti with strong intention and peacefulness in seated padmasana postures.  
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Almost four years ago, I invited a young Black woman, who I "met" through a fb group devoted to the study of Charles Eisenstein's writing, to participate in a four month Immersion Program I was teaching. She stayed with me each month during the long weekends of the program, and we came to know each other pretty well. I look upon her as one of my greatest teachers about racism and white fragility.

One day, over dinner after a long day of studying Ashtanga with me and about a dozen other white yoga students, we began to talk about social media, and I mentioned how “toxic” it had become in the era of Trump - the virulence, the hatred, the horrors I witnessed on it were so disturbing, I had to get off facebook, I told her.

She looked at me sadly and said, “You can get off facebook any time because it’s toxic, because the hate and racism distresses you. Do you realize, I can never “Get off”? Because I am Black, and for the rest of my life, I have to deal with the toxicity of being Black here in America." And, well, she let me have it. Because I needed to have it.

And, I told her I truly wanted to talk with her about it, if she was willing to help me. That I wanted to understand and learn from her. And so, she gave me a great gift, and we talked about “race” together for a long time.

She poured out to me her very justified frustration, anger and grief. She began to talk of her discomfort at being the only Black person in the studio during the program. She described to me some of the micro and macro aggressions of white people she'd experienced in her short life. She told me many things that, at the time, made me feel “triggered” and defensive. But, I remained silent, and quelled my white identity’s need to defend itself, and simply listened to her with empathy, nodding and encouraging her to continue. Finally, when she was finished, and quiet, I said, "I am so, so sorry. I thought I understood about this, but clearly, I never really have. I understand more now, and thank you for sharing this with me and helping me. I thought I’d be teaching you during this weekend, but you ended up teaching me. I want to learn more, and I want to help—what can I do to help?"

I know now this was not really a fair question to ask of her, because, although I truly wanted to help, part of me was maybe looking for a little bit of (white) absolution, too. (It’s only natural to want to “fix” problems you’ve had a hand in creating—or benefiting from. Alas, I ultimately learned that feeling of “wanting to help” - and I know many of my white friends want to help now - is just an initial step on a long road.) But, I realized my efforts at dismantling racism in America up to that point had been merely “being kind to everyone, regardless of their race” had never been enough. Not even close.

She patiently, wearily answered, "You have more power than I have, because you are a white woman. You have a privilege that I do not. You run a yoga studio. You have a following on social media. People respect you. Can you please use *your* voice and *your* power to help educate the other white people you know, and help awaken them to the suffering Black people experience every day?"

I said, simply, “Yes, I will do this.” So, I did. I began actively speaking out when I saw or heard micro aggressions and macro aggressions, too - making my fellow white people feel at the very least uncomfortable, and probably angry, too—both IRL and out here on social media. As part of that vow to her, I started learning about the necessary work of dismantling my own whiteness, too.

I am sure that a lot of people unfollowed me on social media when I started posting about racism and white supremacy. In fact, the lack of response to my agitating made me feel very lonely at times. I'd post photos of my dogs or kids, and people would respond. But, photos or essays about BIPOC/social justice issues? Mostly silence. Outside of the fellow teachers at my studio who supported my efforts, and the students who did too, most of the yoga teachers I knew did NOT show support. Most of the yoga teachers I knew remained silent when I shared something like a story about police yet again murdering a Black person. I was tone policed and subtly shamed by folks close to me—once even by one of my teachers, who laughingly referred to my “passion about these issues.” 



But, I felt that it was part of the process, and knew that the loneliness, sense of ostracism and feeling of exhaustion was something Black people had to deal with every day, as my friend who’d started me on this path told me during that pivotal conversation: “I can never escape this.”



I made sure to ask other BIPOC people I knew what and how to do this work, listened to them and learned from their guidance how to educate myself more about racism. I read a lot of great books that helped me understand more. I offered a book club, where the studio read the beautiful, brilliant and raw "The Fire Next Time" by James Baldwin (highly recommended) and I began giving and raising money regularly to groups like the Southern Poverty Law Center and the ACLU. I watched movies like “13th" “12 Years a Slave” “Get Out” “I Am Not Your Negro”. And, to feel less lonely in this work, I made friends out here with other yoga folks who also were working at educating themselves and becoming more outspoken about racism and social justice. In other words, I began to really walk the talk of ahimsa that yoga teachers have been blathering on about in our yoga classes all these years.*

Practicing ahimsa - true empathy - I like to say, doesn't always come with a cookie and a pat on the head, people. Sometimes you have to suffer, too.

What I am trying to tell my fellow white yoga friends who are really feeling a deep sense of shame, sadness, remorse, and empathy right now about systemic racism and the murders of Black people in the hands of the police, to the folks who are finally using their voices of white privilege to foment justice and needed change, is thank you, but also this: the real work of deconstructing racism lies in dismantling it in yourselves FIRST. We have a long way to go. It is work which will never, ever end, because our whiteness has been imbued in us since our births here in this country—it is generational. But, until we begin to deal with our fears, delusions and own trauma around racism as white individuals, and express that process as teachers, as white people of influence and privilege, we will never see it end in our nation.



As James Baldwin wrote, “The white man is himself in sore need of new standards, which will release him from his confusion and place him once again in fruitful communion with the depths of his own being…the price of the liberation of white people is the liberation of the blacks—the total liberation, in the cities, in the towns, before the law, and in the mind.” 



So, my fellow yoga teachers, in this time of COVID, when we are learning new ways of teaching and creating community, we must also learn this vital work, too. It will be part of your sadhana now. Ultimately, it is much more fulfilling than yoga practices - as long as you let go of the fruits of your efforts that is...because we may never see the real shift we need in this country for many generations. But, it starts with us, my friends, to work to create this healing, seven generations back, and seven generations ahead. Welcome to the work which you have been preparing for all of your life.

EDIT: Now, I wrote all this a couple of days ago, knowing that it was an act of "centering myself" - but I did so in that knowledge to prove a point to the folks who are only now starting to "wake up", which is: I thought I was "awake" then when I started doing this work. I WASN'T. You think you are "awake" now. You are NOT. Again, what you are experiencing in these past few days is just another step on the path.

Do not feel you have done your job because you are kneeling at protests, or posting about racial injustice for the very first time out on social media, and other white folks are responding to you positively (and fulfilling a mutual need for exoneration.)

We white folks, ALL OF US, including me, have a VERY long way to go. Besides using google to locate the exploding plethora of anti-racist resources (and there are thousands available, from books to movies, to essays, to free online courses created by BIPOC fols) I offer this excellent essay on how yoga teachers specifically can "Convert Hidden Spiritual Racism into Activism" .

Finally, I highly suggest that white folks de-center themselves now, while simultaneously putting their money where their mouth is, because change requires organization and organization requires money. DONATE to Black Lives Matter, the Southern Poverty Law Center, the ACLU,  or any number of organizations bent on dismantling racism and white supremacy, organizations that want a more just world for all of us. At the risk of virtue signaling, I will share that I donate to all three; I share this because I want white folks to see my example and FOLLOW IT, not just admire it. If you're a local student or teacher who knows me IRL, in Western Mass, DONATE to WMSURJ, which provides direct reparations to Black Americans in Western Massachusetts. Learn how to amplify the voices of BIPOC leaders, artists, writers, and most importantly for the culture of Western Yoga, BIPOC yoga teachers.

There's so much more that you can do about racism that doesn't involve making your own limited egoic self stronger, which, after all, is the point of our yoga practice: to dismantle that which veils our truest Self and causes suffering. 

​May we all find our way.