From Anna: Couch-asana, the pose of champions

I apologize for a delayed response. I've had a nasty case of the flu which knocked the wind out of me, (more on that later), and am only now rounding my first bend.

I understand where you're coming from and I'm thrilled that striking out on your own has been both empowering and invigorating. However, I was struck by the clumping together of the 'fitness-oriented power yoga' brand and the 'protect the risk factors' practice. In my experience those two realms have been quite separate. In fact, it's been the studios and teachers with experience and integrity that have urged me to protect my body as I practice. Now that I think of it, another common thread (for the most part) is an Ashtanga background... which is more than just a little bit interesting....

For the sake of this discussion, I'm going to set aside the corporate yoga controversy (although it's a great topic! ) and jump into the risk factor discussion. I think that when having any conversation about risk factors it's important to remember that you and I are not the intended target of the caution. We are trained and conditioned to listen to our bodies and know how far is too far. But it's a whole 'nother bag of veggie chips for the inexperienced yoga student, looking around the room at what their neighbors are doing and essentially - making shapes with the body. I enthusiastically endorse your own windmill-chasing practice but I think that this is an excellent example of looking at what we prioritize in our own practice vs. how and what we teach. I'm sure you'd agree that one of our responsibilities as a teacher is to keep our students safe, in every sense of the word. Writing this post, I am realizing that more so than ever before, I'm in that mind-set because I am teaching so many beginners classes, as well as prenatal - where the safety issue is paramount. Perhaps if I was teaching fewer classes, or more advanced students, I'd feel differently.

Thank you, by the way, for the shoulder/Chaturanga explanation you offered. I think you're right about the mechanics of jumping back and the discrepancy between it being a stand alone pose vs. a transition.

As for the flu, this one has been a doozie. For 4 days I couldn't even bring myself to sprawl out on a bolster, but by Day 5 my body was craving some yoga. Forward bending proved too much for my congestion but Supta Baddha Konasana, Viparita Karani, and some other restoratives created a welcome opening in my chest. It still might be a few days before I attempt much more than that and when I do I'll focus on boosting the immune system with backbends and inversions.

This evening though, I am gearing up for some good old couch-asana. Risk factors: posture and media consumption. Benefits: debatable.

From Anna: White Flag Waving

I love how you described yourself as a skipping record, out of it's groove until the restorative practice knocked you back on track. It's almost like yoga is an internal GPS system. Wherever we go, whatever is going on in our lives, and whenever we are adrift or have lost our groove, it helps us re-route and find a way back to ourselves.

The fact that it was a restorative practice that pulled you back into place speaks volumes. Recently in my teaching, I've noticed more and more how much people struggle with the 'surrender' piece of the yoga puzzle. As they form perfect right angles with their femur bones but fidget through a 3 breath hold of Warrior 2, I gently remind them that for many of us, going deeper may mean doing less. It's a tough sell to say the least.

Culturally we are taught to believe that for something to be beneficial we have to feel it, see it, make it, etc... The idea that in yoga there is 'doing' but also the 'undoing,' space to just observe - is a foreign concept and one that unnerves people. And I get it. I used to be the most fidgety person in the room, and when my teacher would say that it's only by letting go that we find strength I would think "well, that sounds lovely, but...."

Furthermore, the definition of the word 'surrender' (outside of the yoga world) is not a positive one, any way you slice it. Look up the word and you will find synonyms such as concede, quit, renounce, and my all time favorite- eat crow. It's no wonder people are hesitant, and even flat out resistant to let go.

I realize that it will take some time to ease my students towards surrender and that ultimately, it's a personal journey. All I can do is cultivate a space that feels safe for them to take that journey. And if its taking them longer than I'd like it to and I find myself impatient in the process? It means that I, too, need to close my eyes, deepen my breath, and work on the art of eating crow.

From Liz: Saucha and restorative: a.k.a. tidying and resting.

I fell off the daily practice wagon right into "sit-on-my-asana." I could blame stress and fatigue and discouragement. But to start honoring my "no victims" intention once more, I'll just own up to lazyness. Our deal on the house that we were buying has fallen apart in an ugly way. Here's a non yoga tip: don't sign a contract before having a thorough home inspection.

It will be fine. We will be okay. But the whole mess had me fearful (read: full of fear, too full to eat or sleep, or focus on the mat, like mental indigestion that weighs down your whole psyche).

The apartment is a mess, my body is a mess; I have felt disconnected from my domestic space, and the space of my own body. How to fix this? Saucha and restorative yoga. Yes, clean the F up, and simmer down for a while. The simple act of puttering around, picking things up, putting things AWAY, has the effect of organizing my brain, soothing my soul.

And today's practice was a new beginning. I started with a few slow, steady sun salutes, then just slid into prop heavy, drapey, restorative yoga. The sun salutes reconnected me to my breath. Those steady rhythms pulled me away from the frenetic and stacato energy with which I was self-victimizing. And then, settling into Supta Baddha Konasana, with an eye pillow grounding me, I felt like I was settling back into myself. I was like a skipping record, just out of groove, scratching and repeating. But the restorative practice knocked me back on track. This is a practice with gravitational pull. How can anyone possibly have an effort-based practice without the complement of a surrender-based practice? I went through a series of poses, and, as mellow they left me, I also felt like I could climb mountains.

I even feel like I can raise a toddler.