by Hilary Lindsay | Feb 17, 2023 | Asana, nashville yoga, Poetry, Social Commentary, therapeutic yoga, Yoga, yoga class, Yoga Philosophy, yoga teaching |
Nashville is home and host to songwriters so it was nothing unusual to be sitting next to a visiting songwriter at dinner last night. He said he’s basically a writer. The melody is secondary added intuitively as he can’t read music and doesn’t play an instrument. A song’s melody should prop up the gist of the lyrics. Without a melody the poetry or prose can be impactful but notes give words sensations that pierce hearts and sear brains. Even wordless music stirs us. With my habit of taking the macrocosm into the particular through the windshield of yoga, I considered how assuming yoga poses without passion is like words with no melody. Posture becomes authentic when executed with sentiment. Sentiment implies drawing emotion from a well of experience. That sentiment shifts as fresh water fills the well and then you might say your yoga practice reflects all of you in the moment, every moment. It keeps changing. It stays interesting and lively as new impressions form again and again remixing the song of your soul....
by Hilary Lindsay | Dec 31, 2022 | anatomy, Asana, therapeutic yoga, Yoga, yoga class, yoga teaching |
Downward facing dog is a spinal stretch. Though the posture tones the arms and stretches the back of the legs and though this is a prerequisite to finding the spinal stretch, those limbs are just the path to the destination. The connection to the spine comes from opposition in the arms and legs. The spine has a component in the muscles of the lower gut as well as those that envelope the back. Once you’ve got enough arm strength to hold yourself in plank pose for a minute or more and once you’ve gotten enough space in the hamstrings, the backs of the legs, to lie on your back with straight legs able to go 45 degrees or more, you’re ready. Take plank pose Throw your hips in the air and suck the gut into the spine. Urge your arms forward and keep them there as you Push your thighs backward heels high. Reach your heels away from your toes and downward Imagine the ears to the wrists and the neck will release. Each inhale will touch the tissue of the lower back and the exhales touch the tissue of the lower belly. You are stretching spinal muscles and the guide wire of the spine which originates in the front of the hips and attaches through the lower belly to the spine. Hips Head Heels One Two Three Good...
by Hilary Lindsay | Feb 4, 2021 | anatomy, Asana, Limbs of yoga, Meditation, nashville yoga, Pranayama, Prose, Social Commentary, society, therapeutic yoga, Yoga, yoga class, yoga community, Yoga psychology, yoga teacher, yoga teaching |
February 2021. Soft hands belie a commitment to hand sanitizers as the Pandemic forges onward. Corona Easter Bunny 2020 by Hilary Those souls whose sensory overload comes quickly in the best of times are quickest to notice the rawness of skin now washed in a constant acid bath of battle. No lotion soothes these scoured parts, those instruments of giving and receiving for too human bodies. The skin the world sees, the skin of the organs, the skin of the breath and even the mind is chafed and chapped and twitchy. We are fragile and too tender for the fight. Being thin skinned takes on a sharp meaning when the thickness of ones skin implies protection. In a world where beauty certainly isn’t only skin deep, at a time when we are forced to the surface hourly in an attempt to come up for news that is the air defining our days, we live on the surface. The yoga teacher urges the student toward the down under. Seek the quiet beneath the surf for answers to your urgent question. Who am I? What’s happening? What is real? One might see living beneath the surface now as denial or detachment or worse, disassociation. Underground is a dirty word aligned with other words like the “dark web”. The underground rises to the surface again and again. It is blind and desperate for a light. It will not be ignored. On the surface it crashed the nation’s Capitol in a murderous rage. On the surface it is a violent virus burning holes in the skin of lungs. But in yoga we encourage...
by Hilary Lindsay | Dec 31, 2020 | anatomy, Asana, Feldenkrais, Healthy Living, Limbs of yoga, nashville yoga, Physiology, Social Commentary, society, therapeutic yoga, Tradition, Uncategorized, Yoga, yoga class, yoga community, Yoga Philosophy, yoga teacher, yoga teaching |
Yoga combats arthritis, scoliosis, osteoporosis, imbalances, muscle weakness, pain and mental suffering. Or it increases it. Everything is the result of how you’re made and how you do things. And then there is how you are guided to manage these things. Organization, meaning how our body organizes itself, is key but we are mostly messy and subject to outside opinions of “cleanliness”. In yoga cleanliness is not described as the opposite of dirty but an inner shine. It is a component of a larger picture of contentment. In the late eighties and nineties many of us yoga enthusiasts were taught to invite discomfort, to force ourselves past normal range of motion, to work till the breath was ragged and then work to control that breath. It was stimulating, emotionally revealing, challenging in the best of ways. It did feel like making diamonds from carbon. Yoga was young in the U.S.. We were young. For many bodies that was fine until time changed those bodies and the practice naturally evolved with aging. For some bodies that was fine until it wasn’t and it was too late to undo the damage. About 25 years ago I began to feel the effects of pushing my body to the limit. In fairness I’d been told by a rheumatologist that my ligaments lacked integrity and yoga was the worst thing my body could do. It would destroy me. I discounted that at a time when movement came so easily and yoga was a dance that satisfied me wholly. I probably should have stuck to my own practice of dance incorporating yoga as that never...
by Hilary Lindsay | Mar 28, 2020 | Ethics, Healthy Living, Meditation, nashville yoga, Prose, Social Commentary, society, therapeutic yoga, Yoga, Yoga and Religion, yoga class, yoga community, Yoga Philosophy, Yoga psychology, yoga teacher, yoga teaching |
We identify ourselves with some certainty. Smart, twitchy, resourceful, stubborn, kind, hard working, easy going, generous, like that. Is that it? Is it absolute? Seeds of change are dormant in all life forms. Both possibilities and pandemic. Stress forces them to mutate. Forces adaptation. All life forms wired to survive. Dis-ease threatens and unease arises. We change our habits. But also our behavior. What happens in reaction? In yoga, once dormant comes to life with deliberate breath and movement. We name it “consciousness”. Knocks on the door and then breaks it down. This knowingness challenges our opinion of truth. Forget who we were before this terrible tempest. Crisis now an opportunity. For curiosity. Respective human and humaneness magnified. Who are you? Close your eyes. Repeat “I am” to yourself again and again. I am…….. What shows up? Keep going until nothing else comes up. Until “I am” is all. And...
by Hilary Lindsay | Mar 21, 2020 | Social Commentary, society, therapeutic yoga, Yoga, Yoga Philosophy, yoga teacher, yoga teaching |
Two weeks ago if I asked what’s new with you, you would say, “I’ve been so busy.” Redundancy for our times: “Sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been covered up.” “You were on my list to call today!” ( Damn that’s cold. I’m a spot on the list to be remembered.) I too say, I’ve been thinking about you which I do instead of checking in. Maybe like me, you have nothing to say of importance, nothing is new, we would only complain or bore someone. So we just think of them. We’ve taken each other for granted. Worried over minutiae, Scrambled to organize time distracted by social media in between a bevy of offerings to do everything imaginable at all times. So much freedom, so much space, so much opportunity it’s impossible to find clear and present boundaries for humanness. Though I’ve prayed for the world to stay still long enough to get my breath all I do now is hold mine hoping no one I love loses theirs. The boundaries feel less like security than a noose. I am a happy recluse in the best of times. The best means I chose it. The best means I am self centered because all around me is secure with me being that way. I am making my way to a best of times mentality. A slow slog. Captivity is easier now than the intro to that. I wonder if that’s how the accused feel waiting for a trial that will surely result in incarceration. Scrambling like impaired ants to consider an uncertain future except the loss of choice and resources....
