Tag Archives: Beginner’s yoga

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One of you wrote a kind note to me recently in which you encouraged me to discover my “inner teacher” during my home practice. This might involve veering off the straight path I’d been on. What a beautiful idea!

Originally, my home practice was basically whatever I remembered from class, in much the same order we do our asanas in class. Not much imagination involved.

All hell has broken loose, since. This morning I thought, I’ve got to reign this in a bit or I’ll never be able to go back to class. Today’s practice looked like this:

I’m in flannel pajamas, which are far more comfortable than my yoga clothes. I sing show tunes during my Sun Salutations. My secret desire (not so secret now, I guess) is to star in Big! Musicals! I picture some Famous! Broadway! Producer! driving down my very quiet street in Northern Ontario and hearing my voice Soaring! out the front windows, singing, Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better, from Annie Get Your Gun. It’s a tough fantasy to maintain given that I am terrified to sing in front of anyone but my dog. I maintain it nonetheless.  

I put henna in my hair today for the first time. It’s mucky, it stinks, and the instructions say keep it on for hours, so I do my entire practice with a goopy head.

Toward the end of today’s practice, which includes some completely invented dance moves (in case that Producer needs a Dancer!, not just a Fabulous! Singer!), I find myself saying, “Oh, yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah”, with each forward bend and each spinal twist.  How did my practice become so loud?

Savasana, at the end of all this, is a quiet relief.

Is this my inner teacher at work? I don’t know. I understand that there is no mention of show tunes in The Upanishads, but something in my practice feels freer and more creative these days. Lighter.

Do you have inner teachers?  Are they serious? Funny? Creative? Are they dancers? Singers? (Do you want to do a musical together?)
  
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  Join her at kristinshepherd.ca or on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd.

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We’ve been playing a game  all week. Maybe you’d like to play with us.

If you were stranded on a deserted island-it’s a beautiful island, great weather, great food somehow, great books, just no other people-and you could only do one yoga pose for the entire month, what would it be?

After much hand wringing and general hoopla, we’ve decided that Savasana is a freebie. You can do all the Savasana you want. And one other pose.

Another thing. In this game, you’ll be completely healthy at the end of the month. Flexible, strong, peaceful, and beautiful. So the pose you pick is just about the happiness it’ll give you, not about, “oh, god, if I don’t do the shoulder openers, I’ll look like Hulk Hogan by Friday” (no offense to Hulk).

Here’s what we’ve got so far:
My sister picks Upward Dog, because it looks so beautiful.
My lovely man says The Plow. He’s just gone back to it in class and it’s exciting to be able to do it for the first time in decades.
My friend Paul chooses Triangle Pose. I think he’s crazy, but free choice is a part of the game. (He did ask if we were allowed to come out of the pose at all, or whether we have to hold the pose for an entire month. The answer, with rolling eyes, is yes, you can come out of the pose.)
I will do Downward Dog. I love everything about it: the inversion, the use of my entire body, easily a month’s worth of interest.
And if we play again next month, I’ll pick handstand, because it makes me feel like a goddess.

And you? What pose? Why?

Hoho! I can hardly wait to hear.

Thanks to yoga for being so interesting, and so much fun, and thanks to you for the conversation.

Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, speaker, and workshop wonderwoman in North Bay, Ontario.  These games thrill her inordinately.  Join her on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd, on Twitter at kristinwonders, or at kristinshepherd.ca

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Uh oh. Who would have guessed that 10 months into my yoga life, I’d lead a class?

Well, a small class. Three of us and a dog named Emma. At a cottage. I may not know what I’m doing when it comes to yoga, but neither did they, and we all felt certain we’d come to no harm. So we gathered on a deck looking over Big Marten Lake on a gloriously blue Saturday morning.

We started with a few Sun Salutations, followed by variations on Sun Salutations. We flowed gently from posture to posture, plank to Chattarunga to upward dog to downward dog. I gave them every tip I could remember (shoulder blades down, inner thighs rotating backward, rooting through hands and feet) and made up several extra.

More than once, Jenni said, don’t you mean my left leg forward? And isn’t it the right foot pivoting this time? (I am far more dyslexic than I imagined.) We moved onto slower poses, a ridiculous rendition of yin yoga – ridiculous given that I have not once attended a yin class.  I watch my lovely man do his poses at home and thought they’d be fun to try with my friends.
Class was a rousing success.

Until day two. During our Sun Salutations, neither Sue nor Jenni can move gently from plank to chattarunga. Not even the first time. Sue says, I don’t remember doing this yesterday. We did, I tell her. We did exactly the same thing.

“It didn’t hurt like this,” Jenni says.
“Hurt like what?” I ask.
“Like hell,” she says, “pointing to her chest and arms.  It hurts like absolute hell.”
“It’ll get better,” I tell them, hoping it’s true.

And through every Sun Salutation (and we only do five), they collapse like big bags of potatoes from plank to Chattarunga. Smack. Slam. Thud. Thwack. Bang. Crash. The new sounds of yoga. We laughed so hard I thought I’d blow a bhanda.

Great lessons from chattathwack yoga:

1.  Yeah for the shoulder and arm strength that comes with practice!!!!
2.  I adore sharing yoga. My only goal in leading the class was for them to want to do it again the following day. They did. Sort of.
3.  Yeah for real teachers, who know right from left, how to start slowly, and how to let us laugh.

Have you taught, those of you who aren’t teachers yet?  I’d love to hear about it.

Thanks to yoga, for fun on vacation, and thanks to you for the conversation.

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