Practice, Yoga
Every time I teach an Intermediate Yoga class, I begin class the same way – with class agreements. After covering any agreements that may be part of studio policy, like those regarding hands-on adjustments, we briefly set agreements around what it means to participate in an intermediate practice. “This is intermediate practice. While we may approach advancing asana and transitions in this class, most importantly, you are the intermediate practitioner. This means that you know yourSelf best – when to modify, use props, or take a particular variation; when to rest; and when to ask questions. Please feel free to ask questions. Does that sound good to everyone?” The expectation of most students when they see the word “intermediate” listed beside a class is that the class will be physically challenging and require inversions, “deep backbends,” and olympic-gymnast-levels of strength and flexibility. This can intimidate people from trying a class that could be appropriate for them. When I lead an intermediate practice, I offer progressions towards advancing asana, but the asana itself isn’t always the focus. The focus always includes self-study and repeatedly asking of yourself, “why?” Why do I want to bind here? At what cost do I progress further in this posture? Am I breathing? Am I content? Am I practicing with purpose?   In a led class, Intermediate Yoga is made intermediate by the practitioner, not by the practice offered. Who, then, is the intermediate practitioner?
  • The intermediate practitioner’s practice looks different each time they are on the mat. Just because particular pose, transition, or pranayama exercise has been introduced into the practice, doesn’t mean it needs to be performed each time they are in class. One day they may float gracefully from a handstand into chaturanga through every sun salutation, and the next they may opt-out of chaturanga entirely.
  • The intermediate practitioner doesn’t decide what their practice will contain until they arrive. The pace and intensity of the practice isn’t decided upon ahead of time. They decide purposefully how physically or energetically strenuous their practice needs to be once they arrive within it. There is no aim, no attachment to a single peak pose, and no goal other than to experience.
  • The intermediate practitioner works to find balance between discipline and honesty. This is perhaps the most challenging element of practice, in my experience. This is the repeated question of “why?” The intermediate practitioner knows their own disposition well enough to know if they tend to go easy on themselves, and require an extra disciplined push, or if they tend to overwork and overstrain, even on a day when rest would be beneficial to them. They then work to find balance between discipline and honesty (not always successfully). Intermediate yoga becomes a practice in holding oneself accountable.
  • The intermediate practitioner isn’t afraid to ask for help. If they have chosen to come to a group class, they have the benefit of a teacher witnessing their practice. They ask the teacher questions. They learn to support those practicing around them, and to be supported in return. They reach for a prop when it can serve as a meaningful tool.
  • The intermediate practitioner knows that any amount of the pose is still the pose.  Enough said.
  • The intermediate practitioner may use the practice as a form of self-expression. Maybe these moments are fleeting, but there are times at which the practice feels as creative as any movement art, and as inspired as any contemplative endeavor.
  • The intermediate practitioner, has a knowledge, or at least a sense that the yoga practice goes deeper than asana-based yoga. While it is not necessary to a understanding of the eight limbs of yoga*, it is important that the intermediate practitioner has some idea that the yoga that we most directly perform on the mat (asana, pranayama, and meditation), is part of a larger system of study and practice

*See diagram at the end for an overview

  • The intermediate practitioner takes their yoga off of the mat. What carries over from the mat practice differs from one person to the next. Perhaps it is an increased sense of calm, and decreased stress. For some, the mat practice increases mindfulness, morality, or spirituality in everyday life. Often times, consciously or not, the elements that are carried over are in alignment with the eight limb path of yoga*, but no one system of belief is necessary in order to be an intermediate practitioner.
The intermediate practitioner is always discerning for themselves, with mindful consideration, what they need from their yoga practice. How multi-dimensional is that practice to them, both in general, and in discreet moments? Speaking from my own experience, some days I come to a yoga class because I just need to move my body, some days I come to rest my body, some days I come to be disciplined in the physical progression of my practice, and other days I come to class as a form of prayer and conversation with the Divine. I believe an intermediate practice can take place even in a beginners yoga class. In a led class, Intermediate Yoga is made intermediate by the practitioner, not by the practice offered. So, what can you expect from the intermediate class that I teach, then?
  • As much as possible, I believe an intermediate yoga class should provide opportunities for practitioners to access all eight limbs of yoga. That space should be created, but without dogma being imposed. You can expect some discussion or mention of yogic philosophy in intermediate class.
  • When appropriate, I believe an intermediate yoga class should provide support to those that want to learn to incorporate challenging asana into their practice. If you come to my intermediate class after experiencing some of the gentler classes I teach each week, you may be surprised at the physicality of what is offered, but I can promise that you will not be alienated for opting-out of anything. These challenges will always be offered as progressions, so you can meet yourself where you are.
  • Always, I believe an intermediate yoga class should be well-balanced. We will not sweat the entire class. We will not move the entire class. Expect time set aside for yoga nidra, pranayama, and/or meditation in class.
  • All seriousness of the yoga practice aside, we will find space for levity during our time together. We will not take ourselves too seriously, and we might even laugh.
Jai Shri Satguru Maharaj Ki! “Asana is related to all the limbs of Yoga, which are intertwined in various ways. Asana is part of the life-style practices of the yamas and niyamas because it is a means of self-study and self-discipline. Asana is a form of pranayama because through right posture we can control our [breath and energy]. Asana is a form of pratyahara because it gives control of both our sesnse and motor organs. Asana is a form of dharana because through it we can concentrate our energies. Lastly, asana is a form of meditation because its proper practice requires that we keep our minds in a clear and reflective state.” – Yoga for Your Type, Frawley & Kozak
Join me for Intermediate Yoga Wednesdays, 7:30pm at Yoga Home in Conshohocken, PA. (For my full public teaching schedule click here)
0

Honesty, Loving Kindness, Practice, Yoga

Photo by Joe Longo Photography at Yoga Home


  Dear yoga students, I promise I will never take photos or videos of you in savasana. I will never take or post any photos of your practice without your consent. I will never touch you without your consent. I will never comment on your shape or size. I will never sexualize the cues that I give to you. I will never scold or judge the way that you choose to exist on your mat, physically, emotionally, mentally… and I will never tell you that you aren’t allowed to leave the practice. I will never force you to do anything. I will never be upset with you for taking another teacher’s class or developing your own home practice. I will never fail to remind you that you are your own best teacher. And if I mess up and I do one of these things, which I will from time to time – because heaven knows, I am human – I will own up to it and apologize. I promise to never do anything to make you feel unsafe during your practice in the ways others have made me feel unsafe during mine. And, if I do make you feel unsafe in any way, please tell me, because I will always be receptive to that feedback. Now, how can I make you feel more empowered? In gratitude, Jenna
0

BestSelf, Healing, Intention, Loving Kindness, Practice, Yoga
“Throughout class I will offer hands-on adjustments, if you are open to receiving adjustments during your practice, [turn your palms to the ceiling] now, and if you prefer not to be touched, stay as you are.” I say the above, or something similar, towards the beginning of any yoga class I teach during which I intend to give students physical adjustments. To me, this doesn’t seem revolutionary. More and more, yoga instructors are being taught or coming to realize that it is important to ask permission before touching their students. Not everyone wants to be touched every day, and there is an enormous list of possibilities as to why that might be – injury, trauma, bad mood, distractions. I am not going to address those possibilities in any detail here, instead I will discuss consent. I have been asking my students’ permission before giving adjustments for about a year, but recently I have shifted to using the consent-based language above. Why? Thanks to a workshop with Gwen Soffer (Enso Yoga) and Melissa Lucchesi (Voices Inc.) my eyes were opened to the distinction of consent (see resources at the bottom of this post for more information). Consent is empowering. Consent allows you to say, “yes,” as emphatically as you want, so that you don’t have to say, “no,” with any emphasis (or panic). In a culture that is hyper-sensitive to political correctness, we have somehow neglected the importance of consent.  The baseline assumption when you request anything of another person, should be that the answer will be “no.” I don’t say that to sound negative, I say that because unless they consent, unless they choose to answer “yes,” then you shouldn’t expect your request to be granted. In the US you are innocent until proven guilty, well, in this life your requests are denied until they are granted. When you are acting in relation to others – you need to ask – you can’t just act presumptuously. I mean… you can, but if you do, you’re probably being a privileged asshole. That being said, just because you ask for something doesn’t mean you will receive it. The baseline assumption when another person requests something of you, should NOT be that you are obligated to find a way to say “yes.” Saying “yes” doesn’t make you a better person, more generous, or cooler. Saying “yes” when you don’t want to is not only exhausting, but also, by saying “yes” when you don’t want to, you are surrendering your personal power. We tend to fall victim to social obligation, rather than practicing our right to consent. I truly believe there is no personal freedom greater than the power to give consent. So, back to the yoga classroom… Here are some of my thoughts about consent, lack thereof, and hands-on adjustments in class, based on my own personal experience as a student and a teacher. If a teacher asks permission before giving physical assists in any way, even without using consent-based language, I believe that is better than not asking at all. For example, I used to say, “Throughout class I will offer hands-on adjustments, if you prefer not to be touched [turn your palms to the ceiling] now.” This is almost the same as how I ask now, but it requires that those who do not want to be touched take action to opt out. This is not the same as giving consent. This assumes that everyone wants to be touched, except for those that don’t. It also puts those who are opting out in a potentially uncomfortable position. Similarly, I have also heard teachers mention at the start of class, “I will be giving assists during class, if anything feels uncomfortable, you are welcome to say no thank you.” Social obligation may drive students to accept unwanted assists, or to feel guilty about taking action to say “no.” It’s like walking around a party with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and handing them out to everyone instead of letting people choose to take one for themselves. All the party-goers take on that distinctly awkward body language as a deviled egg is shoved into their hand and they mumble, “oh, okay, thanks,” and then turn to their friend and say, “I really don’t want this,” and end up leaving it hidden in the foliage of the nearest houseplant. If a teacher only asks permission while in the process of giving an assist, I still believe that is better than not asking at all… but barely. The instructor’s hands are on the student and then they say, “does this feel okay?” In some cases, a student will reply “no,” but more often than not they just nod their head in agreement. I have to wonder how many students have grimaced through a painful or downright bad assist out of social obligation and a desire to placate their instructor.  Finally, there are teachers who do not ask permission at all to give hands-on assists. Some of these instructors are my friends, and some are my teachers. I still choose to take many of their classes, but I am practiced in letting go of social obligation, setting my own boundaries, and saying “no,” and that is not the case with most students. Some of the reasons I have heard to justify giving hands-on assists without asking permission include:
  1. Two fold…
    1. “If a student comes to my class, they know they will be adjusted.” What about new students? What about students you know but have a new injury, or are in a bad mood, or just want their freakin’ space today? I can tell you from my own experience that there are certain teachers that I know will adjust me if I am in class, and when I am having a day that I don’t want to be touched, I don’t go to their class.
    2. “If they don’t want to be adjusted, they can just go to a different class.” Sigh. Well, shit.
  2. “I can just sense whether someone wants to be touched or not. I can sense their energy.” Even the most wonderful, in tune, energetically aware instructors have been blinded by their own ego and presumptions and given me assists that were unwanted. That is, before I learned to say “no.” Please please please, instructors, keep your ego in check on this one.
  3. “I’ve been teaching for so long, I’m not going to change the way I do things now.” Well that’s just a stupid excuse. The yoga practice is one of self-awareness and personal growth. If you have decided that you will continue to not ask permission before giving adjustments, fine, but at least come up with a justifiable reason.
I ask my instructor friends to join me in questioning why we approach adjustments in the way that we do. Is it our place to give hands-on assists? Should we ask for permission, and if so, how/when? What is the real purpose behind each and every assist? When might we be causing more harm than good? How much of how we view assists is our own stuff/ego? What might we be putting on our students? How can we best serve every student who walks into our classes? Historically, this conversation has gotten pretty heated. It is difficult to consider that we might be harming our students or making them uncomfortable when we have the best of intentions. Just try to take the time to reflect on consent-based physical assists. Whether or not it resonates with you as a teacher or practitioner, I believe that we owe it to our students. The teacher-student dynamic inherently has a power hierarchy, and as teachers, we need to take every precaution not to strip our students of their personal power. Consent is a personal freedom. Let’s give it back to our students.
Click the Links Below for More Resources: Affirmative Consent Arrives in Yoga Studios Permission Stones Trauma Informed Lens – Gwen Soffer and Melissa Lucchesi      
0

As a yoga teacher, people reach out to me on a daily basis to mention they are curious about yoga, or to ask how to begin a practice, or which studios and teachers to try, etc. Which is AWESOME!! It seems that more and more people are interested in yoga each day, which fills my heart. The most difficult, exciting, and exhilarating chapter of a yoga Practice is the beginning. But… No one can convince you to try yoga unless you already want to, not even me. I have to constantly remind myself that it isn’t because so-and-so doesn’t care about or support me that they don’t try – or, try and then dedicate themselves to – yoga. The practice of yoga finds us each at the right time (or it re-finds us and sticks the second/third/fourth time). At the start, you will most likely be the only person holding yourself accountable for showing up to your mat. And to be successful, you need to know why you are showing up. This is what I ask those who reach out to me… Why do you want to try yoga? Answers might include (in no particular order):
  • mitigate chronic pain
  • exercise within the limits of an injury
  • gain flexibility
  • gain strength
  • learn the poses
  • learn to breathe
  • learn to meditate
  • improve sleep
  • improve posture
  • alleviate depression/anxiety/mental dis-ease
  • feel empowered
  • cultivate self-love
  • de-stress/calm/center
  • cultivate compassion/patience for others
  • gain community
  • make time for Self
  • heal
Or any combination of the above… All of that’s great, there is no wrong answer! Yoga can help with that! That desire is the first step, and an important one to acknowledge… But, I hate to break it to you – yoga is not a quick fix. There are no quick fixes in life anyway, not really. I’ll say it again: Yoga is not a quick fix. Time for some tough love… If you want to ______________ by practicing yoga, you have to Show Up every* day. Every fucking day. Especially the days that hurt; the days when you cry because you don’t want to Show Up. The days when you think, “no one but me will know that I didn’t go,” are the days you need to hold yourself accountable the most. If you were hoping for a quick fix, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but don’t be discouraged. Do the best you can. Show up *every day that you can, and show up as your BestSelf. It’s not going to be easy, but soon (maybe this month, season, or year) you will forget about whatever it is you came to “fix” in the first place, I promise. Some people feel a special spark, a pull, you could even say they feel magic, when they take their first yoga class. If that is your experience, then you are more likely to Show Up again… But if it isn’t, you have to have Faith. The first time I stepped onto my mat there was no magic… It was when it became a habit – a Practice – that I was transformed. Don’t be afraid to Show Up. Reach out to a teacher you know, or a nearby studio about offerings for beginners. Ask me! Ask anyone willing to help you find what is best for you! Ask for what you need! Just ask. You will be supported. There is a whole amazing community out there waiting to meet you at the edge of your comfort zone. There might even be a whole amazing and totally unknown piece of yourBestSelf waiting to meet you, too. The only piece of etiquette you need to know before your first yoga class: Show Up & Keep Showing Up.
0

BestSelf, Mind, Practice, Yoga
In the classes I teach during the month of November, I am asking my students to focus their intentions on gratitude. Each week, we approach gratitude from a slightly different angle. This week, I ask students to identify one quality about themselves for which they feel grateful. I ask them to share and reaffirm that quality using the identifier “I am ________.” I have been so inspired by my students answers. By how they own up to their most awesome qualities. By their Self-Love, Self-Compassion, and Self-Gratitude. It got me thinking about myself and my Yoga Practice, and how the practice has made me realize some really great things about MySelf.

1. I am strong.

You would think that growing up an athlete and an academic I would have always felt strong in body and mind. Not the case. I often felt weak. Not strong enough. Not smart enough. Not resilient enough. Like I wouldn’t make it… through the day, the workout, the race, the season, the essay, the course, the school year… you name it, I doubted my strength.  Yoga gave me the time and space to realize just how strong I am, and how strong I have been to endure. There is no right answer in a yoga posture, and there is no ideal form. There is only an opportunity to test your edge physically and mentally, and gain strength in a practice that is all your own.

2. I am enough. 

See above: “Not strong enough. Not smart enough. Not resilient enough.” I get hung up on not being enough. Enough. The Yoga Sutras ask us to practice Santosa – Contentment, or as I like to think of it, Enough-ness. I am that. I am beautiful enough. talented enough. compassionate enough. funny enough. artistic enough. unique enough. thin enough. loved enough. loving enough. happy enough. independent enough. content enough.

3. I am a good listener. 

I wasn’t always. Yoga made me slow down. It made me start listening to MySelf – the breath, the body, the mood, the thoughts. One day, amidst my practice, I found myself wondering how I could have not been hearing MySelf for so long. If I hadn’t truly been hearing my own self, had I really been listening to anyone else, either? I decided to give listening a try.  I realized just how much I could learn if I listened to others. And I started listening. If you don’t already, start really listening to people when they talk (and even when they’re silent), and your world will change.

4. I am a believer. 

I am not sure what God is. I am not sure what stories are true. I just know that I believe in something, and that I began to find that something on my yoga mat. And since, I have recognized discrete divine moments throughout my life’s experiences. Grace. Divinity. Light. Love.

5. I am okay with being vulnerable.

Yoga made me willing to accept who I am. MySelf. MyBestSelf and MyNotBestSelf. Once I accepted myself, I was willing to share myself… Stories from my past. Thoughts from my present. Wishes for my future. The way I see it, my purpose is to connect to others, and I can’t do that without being vulnerable. I grow more comfortable and grounded in my own vulnerability each day.   What has your yoga practice taught you about yourself? Or, which of your qualities are you most grateful for? 
2

When I first dropped into a regular asana practice, I had no idea the magnitude of what I was doing. I now give credit to yoga for every single one of my best qualities. It has taught me to be present, strong and compassionate. Most importantly, it taught me to love myself. The cultivation of those qualities has brought me to a place where I am finally able to talk about a time in my life where I was the antithesis of my present self—disconnected, weak and selfish. I was sexually assaulted in when I was 19-years-old. Four years later, I am now able to say those words without feeling shame. Only a few months ago, that traumatic experience was still locked up inside. I have since realized that confronting it is empowering. Now, I am determined to transform it into a gift. In the aftermath of the assault, I reacted in countless self-destructive ways. I felt ashamed of myself. I escaped from the present moment and my own body whenever possible. The majority of my time was spent disconnecting from others and from myself. Why? Because I felt something was wrong with me—that I was bad. Simply being in my own body caused me humiliation. It didn’t take long for my shame to be accompanied by guilt. The disordered behaviors I found myself stuck in did not make me feel any better. Not only did I feel bad, I knew that what I was doing was bad. Not only did I want to escape my body, I wanted to escape my behavior. I didn’t have the ability to end my destructive behaviors, so instead I hid them, which caused constant anxiety. I hid my habits from my family, friends and boyfriend. I continued to study hard and work hard so that no one could see how I was feeling or what I was doing. I was functional, but still self-destructive. My life went on in this way for nearly a year following my assault. Until my friend encouraged me to come with her to a Vinyasa class at a nearby yoga studio. It was my first time in years practicing in a room with a teacher leading class, rather than on a screen in front of me. To be honest, nothing “clicked.” I didn’t find instant clarity as my hands hit the mat, but I did feel a magnetic pull—right from the center of my gut—to come back. That’s when I started dropping into a regular practice. Yoga soon replaced running as my physical outlet. In the months following my assault, I would run almost every day. Not jog—run. I was running as if I could somehow run right out of my own skin. With yoga, I was slowing down, I was even staying still. I didn’t realize it, but I was starting to heal simply by learning to be present in my own body. I abandoned my destructive behaviors. I learned to come to my mat when I was feeling shame, or guilt, or disconnection. Over time, I began to cultivate self-love, compassion and connection. You know what? It wasn’t always easy. In fact, sometimes I left my mat feeling worse than when I started. I would leave class and cry, or I’d leave and be on edge for days, not wanting to go back. No matter how I resisted, though, that magnetic pull yanked me right from my core back into the practice. Even though coming to my mat and practicing bodily presence was a great step in recovering from the assault, I was completely and utterly unaware of just how great a step it was. I was gaining a connection between my mind and my body, my breath and my movement. I was gaining intentionality. Through dedication to my practice—on and off the mat—I slowly began to rebuild a sense of self and a sense of ownership over my body.
“Release anything that you are holding onto.” 
These words are often said in the yoga classroom. Something in me was ready to be released, but I needed more time. Eventually, it all started to connect. Through my disconnected behaviors, I had so effectively buried the memory of my sexual assault that it was nearly impossible to trigger it. Now that I was beginning to reconnect to my body and my world, I was getting back bits and pieces. Three years after I dedicated myself to my practice on the mat, and four years after my sexual assault, yoga has equipped me with the tools to begin to process. I know how to breathe, even when I am in an uncomfortable position. I know I am strong; if I can bear my least favorite pose for just another moment, I can bear anything. I know that I can trust myself. Most importantly, I know that I am here.
Side note to self: Jenna, you are here. You are in your body. You can sense the world around you, thanks to your body. Be in your body. No, it hasn’t always been great in here, but you are alive and you are here. Be here. This is real. This is happening.
Several months ago, it was (unsurprisingly) my yoga practice that finally pulled the emotional trigger, and brought four years of suppressed feelings bubbling up to the surface. I was literally knocked flat on my ass for a day. I felt like a train had hit me, and I wasn’t ready to accept why. It took an entire week of nightmares for me to realize that it was time to confront the reality of my sexual assault. It was real. It happened. I turned to one of my teachers and asked for help, and with her encouragement began seeing a counselor to process my trauma. Thanks to the skills I have acquired through my yoga practice, I feel prepared to process. No, I am not healed. No, I haven’t let go of all of the shame and guilt. Looking back, it is difficult not to feel guilty for the way I reacted after my assault. It still feels like an excuse when I say I did the best I could. I wish I had learned to love myself sooner. I am grateful every day for my physical yoga practice. Without it, I might still be disconnected, apathetic and miserable. Getting onto my mat taught me how to be present in my body, learn to reflect without feeling shame, and learn to feel without being out of control. Being a part of a community of like-minded yogis helps me to feel supported, connected and grounded enough to face my demons. And as I continue to process and grow, I do so with the intention of turning my traumatic experience into a gift. I want to use my gratitude for the practice of yoga to increase its magnetism—that familiar pull that caught me right in my gut—so that others might find a way to love and accept themselves in light of, not in spite of, their traumas.   Originally published November 2014 on elephantjournal.com
0