You have to move to feel

This is not a metaphor.

Think about it this way first:

Lay a hand on a cat and it's soft, but keep it lying there and you stop feeling the soft. Or at least, not with the same intensity as when you pet the cat.

Same with water... Get into the Lake (if you’re in Erie or near any lake) and walk through the water, feeling the softness of the water. Stand still. Less input, less sensation.

Go another step and realize that you only really feel wet relative to dry. Or relative to your wet swim suit as you try to peel it off.

(Before we go any further, as always, there are different levels of and ways of moving, but there is always movement of one kind or another, even just the breath and how it moves the chest and back. Or the movement of the eyes. Or the the tongue as it tastes.)

Stand still. Less input, less sensation.

We know that to be still in the body during and/or right after a traumatic event is to get stuck in that moment. (Here for more on that.) The feelings of that moment are then not moved through… or we do not move through them.

This is not a one time thing, of course, and that’s why somatic movement — movement married to intention and awareness and breath — is needed every day in one way or another, because every day brings us more to move through.

This is even obvious in our language. We say we are “stuck,” meaning we can’t seem to “get over” something or move forward in our lives.

Move. More input, more sensation.

Go back to the cat and the water. We experience the world through external sensation entering our nervous systems via our senses.

Same for our emotional lives.

For example, we think we are “intuiting” something about someone else or a situation, but it’s just our senses capturing information so quickly that we don’t notice.

This is also related to your “gut feelings.” That’s your vagus nerve relaying information to you that you might not have noticed consciously.

Move to feel to move.

We take in the world, our lives, the traumas, and then what? We can lock them up and let them gather dust and mold or we can move to feel them fully so that we might move more.

And here is the beauty of somatic dance: we can do all of this with joy in community. (You can check out the basic parts of a Peony Somatic Dance class here.) And over time, we can build our capacity to go through the cycles quicker. This is not so we can develop a method of bypassing. Not at all.

This is a spiritual practice of the most real variety: we honestly look at ourselves and our experiences and we digest them and use that digested material to build the life we really want — rather than the life that just happens to us.

The problem of dissociation when "listening to the body"

When the body doesn’t feel safe

The ground of Peony Somatic Dance is breathe and wait. We focus on the breath first to drop into the now and center, and then we patiently listen for or pay attention to the messages of the body. Following that, honest expression can emerge.

But what if when we breathe and attempt to pay attention to the body, we simply can’t?

What if we have a history of dissociation and that is still triggered?

What if it just feels scary to enter the body in this way?

All of these things can drive us away from something like a somatic dance practice. It can keep us from simple exercise. It can prevent us from truly enjoying the sensual aspects of life, because the body does not feel like a safe space.

How do we develop the body as safe space without creating more shutdown and numbness?

How to deal with dissociatioN during movement

There are a bunch of ways to deal with this issue that are more gentle. Over time you can progress through them, but remember, it’s not a ladder. It’s a spiral.

It’s not a simple ladder because if we’ve had a lifetime of dissociative disorder, I don’t think it’s ever just gone. Extreme stress or vile political administrations can certainly bring it back. It’s so deeply embedded in our neurobiology and our body/mind revert to the oldest coping mechanisms because they’re the most “practiced.”

So these new somatic practices are never one and done.

All of this is also why it’s important to work with someone with deep experience. I can tell when a student is distressed even if they aren’t obviously freaking out, for example, and I have a tool box the size of a castle that I can pull from until we find the thing that helps or soothes, whatever is needed.

Peony Somatic Dance methods of the gentle variety

This is just s small example of the tools I would pull from, but it might give you an idea of where to start. (You could also take a class with me, of course, online if you’re not local to Columbus, OH, or you can contact me about possible one on one work if you don’t feel like you’re ready for a class.)

So here are some possible ways of approaching a body that is not feeling safe:

Put all of your attention on your environment. Externalize your awareness. You could put on some music and start to identify items in your space. If you’re alone, you could do this out loud. “Chair, photo, clock” etc. You could add lots of detail if that felt good. As you’re doing this, allow movement to happen but keep your attention outside of the body and the movement.

Touch and name your bodyparts as you move. This is exactly what it sounds like. Moving your right hand? Touch it with your left and say to yourself, this is my right hand.

Attention to body boundaries. Just notice where your body begins and the space outside of you starts. This could be as simple as focusing your movement in your feet and feeling the floor. Or you could get on the floor and move around gently, feeling the feedback from the floor into your body parts. There are a lot of other ways to get this same feedback but moving on…

Place your attention on another body. This is best done led in a class or you can do it with a loved one at home. You can try mirror movement: each of you taking a turn to lead. Keep things really simple. Another option is to start with super simple contact improv like you see in the photo above or as seen here.

Again, there are so many ways to deal with dissociation even when it can feel a bit scary. (And again, experienced guides are so very necessary.)

Let me know if you have any questions or insights!

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?

Movement play inspiration for your new year

I would like to say happy new year but I’m writing this on January 6th and I’m just not feeling it. I’m assuming most (if not all) of you reading this are on the same page.

I also just taught at the residential recovery center and spent that time talking to someone about their fears about what’s coming. Wherever I go, people are anxious and worried. January feels like we’re collectively holding our breath until the 20th and the few days after. But then I think we’ve all been doing that to some degree since the night of the election.

Here’s hoping that the guardrails hold…

Regardless we need to keep moving forward, and focusing our energy on the things we can actually control becomes more important than ever.

Taking care of ourselves and filling ourselves with joyful energy is crucial if we are ever to build the kind of world that I know we all want — one of inclusivity, compassion, and real love… the kind of love that values every being as worthy.

With that in mind, I come to my main new year’s intention: to get back my sense of passion and playfulness with my own dance/movement practices, rather than only feeling that way when I’m teaching.

I’m starting slowly with about ten minutes at noon every day. I got a fun disco light just for this. I turn that on and put on a list of 80s dance music. I don’t “try” to “do” or experiment or create. Just dance. That’s it. Let it flow.

Next week, I’ll be building more aspects of my practice.

And in preparation for all of this, I’ve created a playlist of inspiration on YouTube that you also can access by hitting the upper right corner where it says 1/16 on the video below or click here. There’s only one of my own videos on this list and then other things that you can skip around in for ideas.

I’ll add to this list whenever I come across anything that fits that bill.

Let me know if you have any videos you think belong on it.

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!

A story about overcomplicating and underestimating...

On Wednesday I went to an Orange Theory class that they were calling "Everest."

Spoiler Alert: I did not take any kind of clue from that title.

This was the day that I said on Facebook that I had I hit some sort of wall at about the 50/55 minute mark of my morning class.

Now keep in mind: I had been to the previous two days’ classes at Orange Theory, had taken a hard yoga class, and had just come out of my first yoga teacher training weekend.

But I still thought... WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?!?!? (You can chuckle.)

The Overcomplicating Part

I spent a good chunk of that early evening talking to Craig about it. We looked at my water intake (great! perfect!) and what I had been eating. We both got on our phones to try to figure this out. ((FFS))

Now two important things DID come up that I will be working on: Making sure I'm getting enough calories (without counting ... tricksy but doable) and watching my iron intake (I tend to be slightly anemic and can deal with it with food and B12 but I have to be AWARE).

Fastforward...

The underestimating part

CRAIG (who is definitely currently in better shape than me... I mean, he does the Beast on the Bay -- an obstacle 10 mile run -- with barely any training)... CRAIG took that same class that night while I was teaching locally.

And the next day after work, he said he was utterly exhausted and?

THAT IT WAS FROM THAT CLASS.

LIGHTBULB.

IT WAS A HARD FUCKING CLASS, CHRISTINE.

So yeah... I immediately had overcomplicated things -- instead of just understanding the class was freaking difficult -- and then I underestimated MYSELF by thinking there must be something "wrong" rather than just seeing it was a hard class and ANYONE would be tired.

So... you know... where are you doing crap like this to yourself?

Intro to Kundalini Workshop

This workshop will take place in 3D in Columbus, OH on Sunday, April 21, from 5 to 7 PM. But I’ll then be taking the material online so keep your eyes open for that. (And this workshop is great whether you’re just starting with Kundalini or want a refresher/deep dive into it.)

If you’re able to be in Columbus, go here to register.

I thought now would be a great time to re-tell the story of me and Kundalini and give you an idea of what a class with me can look like:

The Story of a Magpie Mind

My mind is a magpie, always collecting shiny bits wherever it comes across them, never settling, adding forever to its already full nest. My magpie mind never thinks, “Oh! that’s the perfect amount of shiny! I am done!” Nope. My magpie mind is always in flight, searching.

I used to think that was a bad thing and maybe some of you thought the same or were taught the same about your own magpie minds.

I used to think that was a bad thing, until I realized it’s simply… NOT.

My magpie mind is fucking delightful and my students are better off for it.

I never tire of learning. I never tire of experimenting. I never tire of pushing myself just that little bit more.

Because of this, I’ve always had a hard time describing the yoga I teach. It’s steeped in so many lineages and I pull in from so many teachers and sources that it would be impossible to list them all in one place.

But underneath it all, there is Kundalini yoga — just with a whole bunch of Christine sprinkles, which change from month to month and year to year.

Kundalini Saved My Life and Prepared Me to Return to Dance AND LIFE

That’s not an exaggeration. I was deep into a severe and life threatening and long term cycle of depression and anxiety. My willingness (and I have no idea where that came from!) to try yoga and then to try Kundalini did something magical to my brain.

The focus on breath work and the quick movements of Kundalini — rather than the stationary poses of more “mainstream” yoga — washed my brain in serious amounts of happy chemicals, and yes, that would go away mere hours after practice but it was enough that it stayed in my memory and made me go back again and again. The longer I practiced — over months and years — the longer the effects lasted after each session.

Eventually this all led to my healing experience on the dance floor at a friend’s wedding when I was 40. I would never ever have stepped onto that dance floor again if I hadn’t been prepared by my Kundalini practice.

So what the HECK is Kundalini with Christine?!

In my late 20s, I started where most people start with yoga or thereabouts: Iyengar yoga. From there, though, I quickly dove into many other lineages: Integral, Vinyasa, Kripalu, Ashtanga, Yin, Restorative…and more.

I’ve also taken time to really study breath (pranayama); I have resisted but finally gotten a handle on meditation practices; I am obsessed with mudras; I am equally as obsessed with chanting. (I’m really a natural Bhakti Yogi, if that means anything to you. If not, it means I’m naturally devotional.)

I’ve studied yoga philosophy with one of the most renowned teachers in the West.

And more recently, within the last few years, I’ve dived deeply into Tantra studies, the foundation of Kundalini Yoga.

I’m also certified from Kripalu in YogaDance and YogaDance for Special populations (people with Parkinson’s, etc., and those recovering from cancer). This form is very influential to all of my movement work.

To get a rounder sense of me: everything I have ever studied relative to movement informs my approach to Kundalini.

This includes but is not limited to: Japanese Butoh, modern dance, somatic therapies, trauma and body based psychotherapies, biomechanics, and I’m probably forgetting lots.

So WHAT Does a Class LOOK LIKE?!

That’s a great question because it’s always evolving, but you can bet on a few things happening every time:

First, there’s always a TON of circular movements because that’s what the body loves.

Second, there will be repetitive and very natural feeling movements blended into and with things you more easily recognize as “yoga,” BUT there will always be a way to find all of it in YOUR OWN BODY. I’m extra good at that. ((grin))

Third, there’s a major connection to the breath and a variety of breaths in a way that most of my students say they never experienced before. The breath is actually more important than the movements.

Fourth, you won’t feel like you’ve “exercised” like some yoga classes (though that’s not always bad); instead you’ll feel like you’ve participated in a ritual of healing and joy.