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This post isn’t about the Kama Sutra, it’s about jivha bandha. Bandha, which is translated as “lock,” refers to a maintained body position that is used along with asana and/or meditation to regulate and direct energy flow through the body. We typically hear about mula bandha (root lock), uddiyana bandha (lower abdominal), and jalandhara bandha. Less frequently, we come across jivha bandha (tongue lock), but it’s simple. The tip of the tongue comes to the front of the roof of the mouth, where the teeth meet the palate. In some schools of yoga, more of the tongue makes contact with the roof of the mouth, but the way that i was taught was just the tip – the rest of the tongue naturally kind of hollows out.

I don’t teach this – i might mention it to plant a seed, but like ujjayi pranayama, i believe it should come through one’s practice without forcing. A little bit of trying it on is good, but when you’re just starting, or even if you’re 5 years into a regular practice, you need a lot of attention for your breath, your right foot, your left elbow, your tailbone, an intention, a mantra, softening, opening, focusing, oops, don’t forget to breath – is jivha bandha so important that we need to shove it in on top of everything else? I don’t think so, no.

However, once it arrives in your practice without force or struggle, it’s a wonderful addition. I find it calming and focusing, and that it helps me keep my jaw relaxed – for a habitual clencher, this is very useful. Give it a try when it occurs to you and see if you’re ready to get anything out of it. When you start to feel used to it, trying adding it in an asana and see if and how it shifts. It can be like jnana mudra – a cherry on top to keep you fully engaged.

Is there anything that you practice now that you used to find weird or distasteful? Are there things that your yoga teacher encourages you to do that make you go, “huh? why on earth would i ever do that?”

Every time i teach a class, i learn something. It’s a wonderful process of evolving as a teacher, but not always easy.

It’s ok to fall. I’m not afraid of teaching poses that i haven’t mastered. As long as i’ve been practicing an asana for a while and i can feel the shape and energy of it in my body, i’m comfortable teaching it, even if it’s not perfect. I think it levels the playing field when the teacher falls or loses balance and helps students cultivate a realistic approach to their own practice.

Keep your eyes open! When i first started teaching in-depth, i realized that i taught with my eyes closed! This is not helpful. Sure, it helps me tune in to what i want to say, but it’s not good to lose track of where my students are and how their practice is going. It’s kind of hard to offer good suggestions if you’re not even watching what people are doing! Duh.

Wear underwear! Um. Well, at least i didn’t learn this one the hard way. Early on, a fellow teacher told me, “Always wear underwear! Cause the day that you don’t, that’s the day that your pants will rip.” I didn’t rip my pants, but during a series of purvottanasana with lifts in between, i caught my pants on my mat and to be sure, they slipped halfway down! Luckily, i wasn’t going commando and we all had a good laugh about it rather than being really, really awkward because everyone had seen my butt.

And on that note…. Don’t take yourself too seriously. I mess up all the time. I forget to repeat an asana on both sides, or i make some silly blunder because i’m talking too much – one day in the not too distant past, i said “Ships and holders,” instead of “Hips and shoulders.” And i couldn’t help it, i cracked up. It was funny! I find that for the most part, my students appreciate a dash of silliness with their vinyasa. It doesn’t stop us from going deep, and it fosters a sense of community.

PREPARE. The only time i’ve taught a truly bad class was the day that i walked in without having practiced for a week, and with no sense of what i wanted to do or what people might need. If i’m not tuned into myself, i can’t tune into and serve others.

If you teach yoga, what’s the silliest or most embarrassing mistake you’ve made? What are the most hilarious things you’ve seen happen in class?

When i first started practicing yoga, i thought mantras were weird and woo-woo. I didn’t even like to sing, felt self-conscious about my voice, i don’t speak Sanskrit, and why would i chant to a god i don’t believe in? I felt similarly about affirmations – cheeeeeesyyyy!!! I felt uncomfortable talking to myself.

Well, things change (and how!). These days i chant or recite mantra almost every day. What happened? Experience. If you’ve never om’ed in a group of at least 100 people, i highly recommend it. Put it on your bucket list. It will change you.

So why sing in a language you don’t speak? Sanskrit is considered to be the primordial language. More than just sounds and symbols, each letter and syllable is a vibration that corresponds to an aspect of existence. It’s comprised of sounds that resonate, sounds that are universal. Take the mantra OM, for example – it breaks down into the sounds we make at the best times of our lives. Ahhhh….. ohhhhh….. mmm….. this isn’t anything esoteric, it’s just delicious. Sanskrit is about the essence of an experience. The same is true of chanting the names of deities – chanting the name of Shiva isn’t any different than singing to whatever deity you put your faith in, or simply praising the manifestation of the world. Chanting to Shakti, or Kali, or Saraswati, isn’t about worshiping some specific goddess, but about delighting in the yin, feminine aspects of life. I’m just now beginning to conceptualize how subtle vibration can affect the body. Om is supposed to be the “seed” (bija) sound of the universe, and we do now know that matter is vibration. Sound and form are inextricable. Take a look at this cymatics video (warning, high pitched sounds).

Mantras are useful in English, too, and can feel more accessible. Most of us already have them, but they’re unconscious. What kinds of things do you repeat to yourself on a daily basis? Probably on any given day you’d find yourself thinking, “I am…” something. I’d hazard to guess that for lots of people that blank gets filled in with something negative. I know it does sometimes for me, but it used to on a far more regular basis. These days if i find myself chanting the mantra of “i am lazy,” or some other thing i don’t want to be, or which isn’t really true, i back up and re-think it as something healthier – or even just “i am,” one of the most primordial meditations. Just by catching your unconscious mantras and reshaping them, you begin to reshape your brain (literally!) and your beliefs about yourself.

Repetition is powerful. Repetition is powerful. (Haha!) We are what we believe we are – this comes up in many different modes of healing. We all have stories about who we are, what we can do, what other people think of us. These stories are formed by what we habitually think, or our unconscious mantras. Yoga calls this habitual thoughts samskaras, and we are not their prisoner, though it can sometimes seem that way. We can take charge of our samskaras. I often try to work directly with samskaras in my classes. Like i do with myself, i sometimes will ask my yoga students to think of a negative belief that they have about themselves, and then think of something positive to replace it with. Then, as we practice, i remind them to repeat the new, positive thought. This can definitely feel cheesy at first, but put your corny meter on hold and give it a try. Remember, if we can convince ourselves that something is true on just a very basic level, if we can show it in our body language, it will start to manifest. Other people will see it and begin to treat us as if it is true. Then, the next thing you know, it IS true. I use this intentional reshaping practice as much as i can. It was a profound experience to use it to work on my body-image and beliefs about beauty. A time when i really rely on it is when i feel unsafe, like if i’m walking in an unfamiliar city alone at night. I repeat to myself, “I am safe, i am protected. I am safe, i am protected.” When i do this, i can feel myself standing taller, more centered, and therefore less appealing to anyone who might prey on me. The power of vibration – far from being woo, it’s the stuff our very bodies are made of.

What stories do you tell about yourself? How could you begin to shift them? Remember, as with any process of growth, the first step is observation. You have to recognize your patterns before you can change them.

We’re heading into the warmer months, and if you have a significant dose of pitta in your constitution, like me, you know that excess heat can be imbalancing. However, us fiery spirits also loooove our high-intensity, challenging practices. So how do we continue to enjoy these kinds of sequences through the summer (especially if you live in the South and don’t have air conditioning)?

Keep it short. Today i did an agni practice with lots of lunges, twists, and vira mudra, but i only practiced for half an hour.

Slow down. Lengthen your breath, and you can still revel in lots of surya namaskar, just at a slower pace. Remember, at this time of year, your body is receiving lots of heat externally – you’re not losing anything by slowing down.

Sandwich the heating elements of your practice with plenty of cooling. If you want to practice for more than half an hour, start slow, and ground. Keep your challenging, sweat-inducing vinyasas to half or less of your practice, and enjoy a long wave of lunar poses. Take a lengthy savasana.

Drink water. Some yoga traditions advise against drinking water during practice, but i’ve found it a good way to keep my fire from rising too high. Avoid ice water, but definitely don’t deprive yourself of water if your body asks for it.

Air flow. Practice near an open window, and/or have a fan going nearby.

Breath! Of course, breath – but take deep belly breaths, and allow yourself to exhale slowly through your mouth. You can also try sitali pranayama.

Herbs. My favorite cooling herb is lavender – many eye pillows have lavender, which is a blissful addition to savasana. You can use lavender essential oil on your body or in a diffuser. It’s also a lovely post-practice tea. Other cooling herbs include hibiscus, lemongrass, passionflower, lemon balm, mint, elderflower, and borage.

Massage. Slather yourself with coconut oil after practice, pre-shower. Make sure to give special attention to places that seem to get overly heated – for me it’s my forearms and my face. Use a gentle, brushing stroke as if you were wiping dirt off. This will help the heat circulate and move out of your body.

Keep it fluid. When you’re doing asanas that challenge you, when you feel your internal heat rising, soften it a little bit. In utkatasana, let your arms rise and fall with your breath. In lunge, let your hips rise and fall subtly. Circulate that heat, don’t let it “rev” in your core.

As you practice, no matter what the season or circumstance, pay attention. When you pay attention (without judgement!) you can perceive clearly what your needs are. That’s the first step towards balance!

Passionate weather, healing, clarity, Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth, cool evenings, luna moths, kids, clean room, clearing out space, plans, grace, coffee ice cream, this remix, finding allies, feeling my practice arising from within, fresh asparagus, sunshine, supportive friends, cheesecake, spelt, adding things to my bucket list, driving with the windows down, Adele, pincha mayurasana, drinking lots of water, getting my hair cut, feeling like a competent adult, planning my upcoming workshop, making healthy decisions, perspective, giving love.

Would love to see you there, email me if you would like to register – space is limited.

It’s been a rough several months for me. Maybe i’ve mentioned this. I’ve been struggling with my health, dealing with relationship troubles, faltering classes, community drama, etc… I’ve considered the possibility that i’m just over-focusing on the “bad” stuff, but looking back with an objective eye, i don’t think that’s the case. Life has been throwing me some serious curveballs. I went through a pretty intense year of transformation and evolution, and then had about six weeks of ease before the first in a series of injuries and illnesses. I keep thinking, “Oh, this will be the last thing. This is so hard, this has got to be it.” That’s what i thought after the stomach flu. now i’m going through another round of challenge, the most difficult yet.

I don’t know how i’d be getting through any of this without my yoga practice. After 8 years of practicing, i’ve learned a few things that have made me into a person who can handle all of this.

I am strong. Virabadrasana I. Vasistasana. Handstand. 3-hour agni practices with Shiva Rea. Breakthrough after breakthrough.

I am centered. Vrksasana. Headstand. Pincha mayurasana. I can fall over and get back up.

I am powerful. I can manage my energy and direct it in ways that serve me. Learning that i can do this is the only way i ever managed bakasana.

I can ask for help. I am surrounded by people who are more practiced than i am (in yoga, and in life) and it is a gift to be able to tap their wisdom – i’ve learned not to pass up this opportunity. Even if it means that i have to sift out some less useful stuff.

When we realize we are the ocean, we are no longer afraid of the waves. Or, for every action there is an equal and inverse reaction. Good things come and go, bad things come and go, life comes and goes. We rise, we fall. I am a blip on the universe’s radar screen. The universe exists within and without, we are at our core as endless as the night sky, whatever is happening in this moment is even less of a blip than my individual existence. This too shall pass.

“You can survive any loss,” the old man whispered, “if you delight in whatever is left to you.” I am in control of what i focus on. Even when i feel like i’m dissolving, there are apple blossoms on the trees, or people who love me, or a good book to lose myself in. I do not have to drown in what’s painful. I can take any experience, even something as mundane as the texture of the carpet under my bare feet, and make it into a delightful, sensual experience. That doesn’t make my pain less painful, but i get to decide how deeply i wind myself up in it. And, when i’m feeling pain, it helps to at least remember a feeling of joy or delight, even when it might seem light years away.

BREATHE. The breath is always there. Always. Focusing on the breath is the fastest way that i know to get out from under a cycle of negative self-talk, to get out of a thought-loop, to come back to the present moment. The present moment is usually not so bad. The breath is a visceral reminder of the cyclical nature of life.

MOVE. When i feel really stuck, it helps to move, whether it’s asana or dance or stomping my feet, movement helps me catalyze whatever i might be holding. We learn early on in a yoga practice that emotions are held in the body and moving the body can stir them around. Sometimes that’s more intense than i might have bargained for, but i’m freer in the end.

Let go. This comes in in several ways. I can let go of what i feel – i don’t have to get wound up in my emotions, but i do let myself feel them. I give myself space to experience them. Then i let them go. I can let go of my attachment to anything other than what is. I can try to force things to be different, or i can work with what i’ve got. What i’ve got is what i’ve got, and i can either get all het up about it, or i can just keep growing. I can let go of whatever i’m holding onto, physically or emotionally – and so often it’s both. This morning during my meditation practice i realized i was clenching my abdominal muscles. I let go, which wasn’t easy, and i felt a huge rush of prana flood up from my center and with it a wave of anger and sadness. I kept breathing, made some sound, experienced it, and let it go.

So, all that is to say… how does a yogi deal with a broken heart/ankle/trust/whatever? Practice, practice.

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