Introducing quickie yoga for your neurospicy brain

Or rather, introducing a reframing of quickie yoga in a way that tells its story better. We’ve been doing this work all along but now I’ll be bringing it to the forefront. Go here to register for March.

As always, these classes can be done live or with the videos on your own. And this 30 minute quickie, focused format works, I think, really well on video.

As we focus on what I’m calling “STIM YOGA for your neurospicy brain”, we’ll be bringing in a lot of the usual suspects and then some: multiple lineages of yoga, basics from primal movement, basics from systems like tai chi, somatic movement, breath work to match it all, and anything else I happen to be learning and is floating my (brain) boat. ((ha))

This is for those of us who struggle with focus, inner balance, peace, and nervous systems that tend toward anxious. You know where to find me if you have any questions.

Creating softness to do the challenging things

If you’ve been in class with me, you know we end with a “show me.” I observe as you allow your body to express what needs to be expressed. The whole class leads to this moment of deep honesty, and it can be revealing in unexpected ways. Truths can be felt and seen by both the movers and the observer.

Sometimes it’s just a bit of relief in beginning to access some larger truths that will take longer to allow. But sometimes these moments are full of big ideas and revelations that lead all of us to say AH-HA!

These moments can be profoundly impactful. They can be those sorts of “turn on a dime” life changing, mind changing eurekas.

This week during one of my online Peony classes, something of that big sort was revealed.

I was watching Linda Soto move. She started with soft, water like movement that felt soothing even just to observe. The energy was safe and felt healing.

This went on for a few minutes until suddenly she broke into childlike playful movement that was full of joy and strength.

AH-HA! Right?

It struck me how much we want to go right for that latter sort of movement — whether on the dance floor or in our lives — without first taking care of ourselves.

It struck me how childlike wonder, awe, curiosity, playfulness, and joy really need safety in order to emerge. That childlike part of you needs to know it’s okay to come out, that there will be no judgment, that there will be no harshness of any kind.

But often, even when we’re doing these somatic dance practices that are meant to bring us to our own original totality, we go at them so hard. We try so hard. We work so hard.

If we’re not trying and working hard, we might even feel like we’re “lazy” or “not deserving.” Old stories overcome our original loving intentions.

The reality is that we deserve to be safe. We deserve to feel safe. We deserve communities that are safe for this work.

The child in us who might not have gotten enough of that safety deserves it from us now.

So let’s practice — in all things — first creating softness and offering a soothing environment — and then like I always say, breathing and waiting and allowing.

What part of you life can you imagine playing with this idea in? Where will you take it first?

Dancing through fascism

I liked that quicker, shorter title, but it could also read, Dancing, writing, painting, sculpting, making music, and generally just art-ing through fascism.

Back in 1991, I was living in Chicago, attending grad school at DuPaul. My area of expertise was shaping up to be American literature that arose out of the Holocaust. And it just so happened that the Art Institute of Chicago, late that summer, was putting on a giant exhibition called Degenerate Art.

With a quick search, you can read more deeply about all of this, but I’ll give you a quick overview.

Nazis, of whatever time, are not fans of any art but classical art that supports their idea of culture. So you know, nothing imaginative and certainly nothing that promotes anything but hetero normative ideals. Oh… and white supremacy ideals, of course.

Modern art, in particular, which was on the rise at the same time as naziism, was extra targeted.

Eventually, the man himself (a frustrated artist and small man… like so many fascists) gathered all the modern art they could get their hands on and put together a show of over 600 works.

In order to, well, make people feel angry about the art, they did a couple of things. First, they crowded the walls with it, creating a sort of sight chaos.

Second, they let in too many people at once, herding them through tight lines. And third, they cranked up the heat.

When the Art Institute decided to put on this show, they found as many pieces as they could from the original. They didn’t overcrowd the people or turn up the heat, of course, but they did display them more like the original show so we could get an idea of what it was really like.

And to this day, there’s rarely a month that goes by that I don’t think of that exhibit. And now especially, there’s rarely a week.

It can feel like the arts need to take a backseat during times like we’re living through.

But if you look at history, it begs to differ.

If art weren’t fundamentally important to the human soul, would H1tler and his crew have gone to all of this trouble to degrade it?

No. Of course not.

All of the arts have the potential to expand our minds and hearts and to, most importantly, expand our empathy toward those not experiencing life like our own. Art teaches us about our humanity. Art teaches us about the beauty of diversity. Art teaches us that complexity is a gift.

And therein lies the danger.

As one of the sickest humans ever to be quoted just recently said (and I won’t name him), don’t get caught by “the sin of empathy.”

I am familiar with the mind gymnastics that people will go through to make that make sense for themselves, but they are wrong, period. It is an immoral sentiment. They are taking all that is good about Christianity and deforming it in the name of their own fears and their own small hearts and minds.

Art challenges us and it calls out parts of us that need to be worked on. It forces us to face our shadows so that we might fully delight in our joys.

So yes, we must dance through fascism.

And dancing, in particular, is extra important in that it keeps us grounded in these bodies and in this world right here and right now, rather than committing the grave error of thinking that we should be focusing on something that (might/maybe) come after we die.

That’s what it comes down to: fascism is death and art is life.

Growing our community muscles has to be a priority

From a recent local class.

Let me start by saying that a lot of us have grown, over our lives, complacent about community building. We tend to participate in communities that are convenient and easy.

This has been especially true since the pandemic, from which we learned to isolate more and more. Of course, this was necessary in terms of 3D human encounters to protect us all, but many of us gave up altogether even in the face of tools that could have kept our community muscles a bit more healthy.

So we enter into next week, into a new and potentially damaging paradigm, leaning again into isolation.

This won’t do.

Not if we want the coming years to be at all safe for women and marginalized humans. We can’t just sink into our aloneness and stay at home watching television and judge the world as it burns from our comfortable front windows.

We must commune with likeminded humans. We must build trust and companionship because that’s the foundation of the work that will call to us.

We must build this trust and companionship via shared story (and truth) telling.

We must embody this trust and companionship.

I’m convinced that this cannot only all be done in 3D but also if we are far away from one another via the very tools that many want to use to hurt us.

Tools are only as good as their users… whether this be the maps of religions or tech tools or hammers or communication.

And we must not desert these very powerful tools to those who would use them for evil. (Yes, evil.)

I will be staying, for example, on Facebook because it has a free private group function that no one else offers. I can use that to grow community.

But beyond that, I am staying because I will not let these spaces be taken over by hateful voices. I will be a compassionate voice. I will fight for the space that has given me so much.

And I will, of course, continue to teach online via zoom. The community that has grown in those classes since the start of the pandemic is as beautiful and deep and solid as any community in 3D that I am a part of. To say otherwise is to demean our basic, DNA level need and capacity to connect to one another regardless of circumstances.

So I come to you with two things.

If you’re not in the Circle of Trees on Facebook, ask me to add you.

Here’s a quick take on what goes on in there: It's a space where people feel really safe to share challenges -- and joys. We talk a lot about neurodivergence/neurospicy brains, and mental health, and of course. somatic/healing movement. The support in this space and the kindness and compassion are indescribable.

And as always, I have classes starting. They start next week, the week of the inauguration.

I, like most of you I assume, am grieving that inauguration, but I know, too, that I can’t stay stuck in grief, and being in somatic dance spaces with other humans is how I take care of my emotional and mental health so that I can be strong for myself and everyone around me.

You can register for Peony Somatic Dance classes right now.

Don’t hide. Don’t disappear. We need every single one of our voices out in this world. Now more than ever.

Brains, Memories, Energy, and Menopause

My 40s were absolutely fab. And there are a bunch of reasons that many of us are not having great 50s, including the orange clown entering our lives in 2016 and then the pandemic and more of that circus recently. But apart from all of that, from what I’ve gathered from older women, the 50s can definitely be a rollercoaster ride.

This is your reminder that if you follow me on Facebook and/or Instagram you’ll be getting new, weekly, free experiments.

On average, it’s when full menopause starts. And I say starts because that one year mark is just the beginning. Like our teenage puberty, menopause is really years long. Things take time to settle.

I’ve been noticing energy and brain changes, but what’s really been getting to me is the pit-of-my-stomach, visceral (different than ever before) understanding that I will not, for one example, ever smell my nana’s house again. It really punches me in the gut when I think about it.

I’m not someone who has been living in de-lu-lu land about such things but my 50s have brought them into my consciousness at a new level.

It turns out there’s plenty of reasons for this.

Thank God for the wisdom of Katy Bowman, right? I was lucky enough to meet her and take a workshop with her about basic biomechanics years ago, and I feel like she will always be one of those scientists who brings us gold mined from her own life experience.

As she has been in perimenopause, then, she’s, of course, been figuring shit out.

Like the very likely reason behind our brain fog and how much it’s really about us — in this toxic productivity culture — not listening to and sinking into these new bodies and minds that want to teach us new things. Like paring down. Like cutting back. Like freaking resting now that we are where we are.

Listen to or read the whole podcast here. Really. It’s worth your time. I’m still thinking about it and hoping Katy will write a freaking book.

New free weekly experiments

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve written. Yoga Teacher Training has just made my summer so much busier and so much more tiring than I could have ever anticipated. As you read this, I will be days away from finishing! YAY!

New free stuff

In the meantime, I’m starting a new weekly share on my Facebook business page and Instagram. If you aren’t connected to me on either of those, maybe go do it so you don’t miss these. I won’t share them on my blog except every so often.

The weekly share will be around the idea of “experiment of one.”

And it will always be something really simple to play with. We want ease in these practices.

Also? We want to build a sense of devotion and not one of powering-through.

Here’s this week’s:

All week long, just notice your sitting habits. Whether at your desk, in front of the TV, in the car... wherever you sit, notice what you typically do.

Then take it another step: notice and change. See if you can find different ways of entering into your seat and different ways of sitting. Challenge yourself to be uncomfortable for a bit.

I would love to hear if you learn anything interesting!

Force versus joyful challenge

A little backstory

You know I started going to Orange Theory because I needed a serious kick in the ass when it came to my commitment/devotion to movement. I needed something outside my usual box. I needed an environment that helped me to do the thing, and Orange Theory covered all the bases.

If I signed up for a class and missed it, it cost me money, so I was always motivated to get out of bed and freaking go. When I got there, the music was fun and I didn’t need to think about anything because the coaches just tell you want to do. It was the perfect blend to keep me working harder than I had in a couple of years.

Let me emphasize this: I did need this to get me moving in the right direction.

And enter: Force

But one of my defaults is to push too hard. I have to watch for it, because it can happen so easily and so suddenly and I can justify it to the moon and back.

Eventually I was going to Orange Theory four times a week. On top of teaching a lot and doing other classes for my Yoga Teacher Training and playing tennis.

I was exhausted all of the time and “couldn’t figure out why.” ((hahahahaha))

I can be slow. ((even bigger laughter))

Eventually I figured it out. I cut my Orange Theory back to twice (and often once) a week. I almost quit altogether but I really do like the community there and have made some friends, and I figure in the winter, I’ll go more.

But that’s not the point of this post.

What’s wrong with force?

Isn’t force just big willpower? Lots of trying? It can be… I guess.

I think force comes into positive play when, for example, I’m deep in depression. If I can manage to force myself to do the things I do not want to do, well, it’s really a sign of hope, right? That kind of force shows that my willpower brain isn’t totally broken yet by the depression and that I am going to be able to drag my ass out of it (yet again).

But often force is just a sort of self inflicted violence.

When we work with force in our bodies, we’re definitely (most often) disconnected from our bodies. They’re a thing that we’re trying to change or contort. A lot of times, movement in this context is pure punishment.

This creates a toxic internal environment on the chemical level.

When we approach change from this kind of force, we’re stressing the nervous system, releasing cortisol, and keeping the body in a dysregulated state.

Change will not come in this state.

Your body is going to work against you, mistaking you for the enemy. Or not mistaking you… because when you’re treating yourself like this, you actually kinda are the enemy.

So what about joyful challenge?

The body knows the difference. Period. Your state of mind is different and so you’re more likely to create the joyful chemical stew in the brain that your body needs for healthy change.

If you approach your movement from a place of play and curiosity and experimentation, you are not working from punishment.

This is the state that regulates the nervous system. It’s from this state, that you’re clear on your motivations and they’re of the healthy variety.

When I’m working with force, my motivations are definitely aesthetic. That’s poison for me.

When I’m working from joy, my motivations are all about my mental health. That is my sweet spot. And most humans’, for that matter.

When we work from joy, compassion, and care, we’re not not challenging ourselves. It just is healthy challenge. It’s sustainable challenge.

The results

Since I’ve recalibrated my movement practices back to joyful and devoted, I already have noticed the kinds of changes I really need:

• I have more energy, of course. Because I’m not killing myself in the name of, again, aesthetics.

• I am getting stronger and more balanced by the day because I have more energy to work harder when I am working. I’m not just dragging myself through my practices and hoping for the end.

• I am happier. This is the big one. This is why I do the work I do — for myself and for others. It’s always been about mental health for me.

I’ve worked really hard to overcome disordered eating and body hatred from my youth but they can still pop up. It takes constant vigilance, and even then, it can be so easy to slip back into old habits.

We teach what we need. I learn that over and over and over.

A bit of radiance

Today I started teaching a fresh online session of morning quickie kundalini, and as I was preparing, it hit me that I wanted to share a tiny reading at the beginning of class.

Then I realized… whoa, I haven’t even wanted to pick a reading for so long, much less read it aloud in class, thanks to the darkness of utter disbelief in anything but the material world that has been plaguing me for the last few years. (I wrote about my sudden release from depression related atheism in the previous post.)

This felt like a big deal… yet another layer of change or another layer of becoming myself again.

And when I was explaining this at the beginning of class, the glee with which long term students reacted to my little announcement confirmed my feeling that we’d all been missing this.

If you’ve been in classes with me, you know I select these randomly by letting the book fall open or having someone yell out a page number.

So here’s the one I read this morning. It’s from this book, which is one of my favorites ever.

Radiance Sutra #61

Adorable one,

Sit or lie down, completely immobile,
Beholding the cloudless sky —
Or if there are clouds, the sky beyond.

As vastness envelops you,
The body vanishes,
Thoughts forget to come.
In this moment,
You are the nature of the great sky.