I spent time this weekend playing in my parents' garden with my little niece. She's four and a half, full of energy and apparently fearless. She loved rolling down the slope where my brother and I used to do the same thing several decades ago. She revelled in doing a run-up to perform multiple forward... Continue Reading →
My best yoga friend is leaving town
Maybe I didn't present quite as much equanimity as I was aiming for. My teacher called out to me after class as I was unlocking my bike to go home, asking me if I was OK. Of course I'm not OK! My best yoga friend had just announced that she was moving back to her... Continue Reading →
Old ways, new ways
I got out of town this bank holiday weekend for a workshop plus kirtan. I've kept my yoga experiences pretty close to home for some time now, since my last visit to a new teacher was a bit more than I bargained for. Long story short: it's made me reluctant to leave the safety bubble... Continue Reading →
Rupture and continuity
One of my best friends nearly died recently. A ruptured appendix, a bungled diagnosis and delayed surgery. I've been visiting her in hospital, feeling helpless in the face of drips, oxygen, and the indignity of surgical gowns. She was weak and confused. I'm not sure she remembered if I'd been with her or not; she... Continue Reading →
Change is hard
My boss in the office often tells me that change is hard. My yoga teacher tells me the same. Change is the name of the game right now, in both worlds corporate and yoga. And they're right: it is hard! In yoga I am trying my practice a new way. Sure, it might not end... Continue Reading →
No feeling is final
“Go to the limits of your longing... Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final” (Rilke) Practice at the moment is an experience of longing. I feel a deep yearning to be more fully with myself, to let go of the past, to feel the reality of the... Continue Reading →
Keeping score
My teacher very rarely offers any comment on the quality (or qualities) of my yoga practice. I am never sure how to read this, never really sure how to read him as a teacher. Is he paying me a massive implicit compliment not imposing his perspective on me, trusting that I'll figure it all out... Continue Reading →
Telling stories
Telling stories. Telling stories. RE-telling stories I was formally trained to study the past. I used to be an archaeologist. My academic training taught me that there's usually more than one interpretation of the evidence and if you follow the more radical post-modern theories the past is unknowable and all interpretations become equally valid... Death... Continue Reading →
Can I be of assistance?
I sit with the teacher a little before class. She talks about the weather and birdwatching, we talk about mundane weekend plans and what we're having for lunch. We also talk about the non-sense of 200 hour YTT programmes, how little they equip anyone for the reality of teaching. We consider the difficulty of assessing... Continue Reading →
Metaphorical work
I haven't written in an age. Did you notice, really? I haven't felt drawn to share much. A web of physical pain and some emotional (let's call them spiritual) entanglements and confusions, some quiet disillusionment about modern yoga -- all threatening stagnation in my practice but ultimately providing shitty fertilizer which has allowed for some... Continue Reading →