Tag Archives: judith hansen lasater

Advice from a Yogi

Sometime over the summer I took notes on a podcast conversation with a yogi. I am fairly certain that yogi was Judith Hansen Lasater being interviewed by her daughter, Lizzie Lasater, though I did not write down the source. Nonetheless, the advice sounds very much like what I imagine Judith would provide, so I’m going with her as the source (and the podcast that I think this comes from is here.)

There were two items of note that stood out to me – thoughts on language and thoughts on communicating, all related to leading yoga practices. All of the suggestions seem like they should be part and parcel of any yoga training, and being reminded of them simply helps to reinforce ways I want to be as a yoga teacher.

On Language:

  • use words to encourage and support
  • use humor
  • the hardest part of asana is to not be competitive with yourself
  • end with silence; it is “the residue that you take with you”
  • set an intention or suggest one, such as “take it to your gentle edge and then step back” and continue to remind yogis of this throughout practice

On Communication:

  • a belief in what you are saying is felt by others, thus the importance of speaking from your heart
  • it is about what the other person hears, not about what I say
  • use OBSERVATION – look at what students are doing, then revise and restate so students understand

 

Book Review – Blink

Yesterday I finished reading Blink by Malcolm Gladwell. This post, with a minor change, is from my Goodreads review.


When this book first came out I had the sense that it was a popular psychology type of book – one that utilized contrived studies to try and explain human behavior. I have always raised an eyebrow at such studies because I think human behavior is more complex and “in the moment.” Thus, manufacturing a “false” set of circumstances to test for a specific behavior seems destined to provide a false set of results that do not hold up in “real” life.

If that is the case, why did I read this book almost 15 years after its first publication?

This summer I was a student of Experiential Anatomy in an anatomy class offered by three amazing teachers – Lizzie Lasater, Mary Richards, and Judith Hanson Lasater. Not only did I enjoy their interactions and teaching styles immensely, my understanding of human anatomy and how it plays out during yoga increased manifold and led me to do a bit of research on the teachers. That research led me to Judith Hanson Laster’s December workshop at Kripalu: Relax and Renew, Learning to Teach Restorative Yoga.

It is the syllabus for the training that caused me to read Blink, it being required reading for the workshop. (I am not taking the workshop, but as a restorative yoga teacher am eager to soak up as much guidance from Judith as possible.) Just a few pages into my reading of the book the connection that immediately came to mind was that during a restorative yoga session the yoga teacher often has to make snap calls about what might be going on in a student’s body. Do they look comfortable? What is the expression on their face saying? How are they holding their hands? Is there tension within that is manifesting on the exterior body?

I am nowhere near an expert at guiding restorative yoga or of reading the bodies of the people who practice yoga with me. However, I can appreciate that the skill to do so in the blink of an eye, particularly when it is a class rather than a private one-on-one practice, is a skill that is worth developing and will grow over time the more I practice it.

On further reflection, another message of Blink as it relates to leading yoga is that making snap judgements based on visual perception may likely lead to incorrect conclusions. Unless a person tells you what is going on in their body, there is no way for a novice (like me) to ascertain someone’s physical history – any medical or structural conditions that might be impacting their practice. My role as a yoga teacher is to get to know the people who practice with me, offer suggestions based on what I know and what I observe. That ability, for me, is an ongoing practice, just like yoga. 🙂

Living Your Yoga

Last night I finished reading Judith Lasater’s Living Your Yoga – Finding the Spiritual in Everyday Life. I found this book while doing research to satisfy my curiosity about her, as Lasater is teaching an online class (Experiential Anatomy) that interests me. I was hooked by the book and last night wrote this brief review on Goodreads:

While I rarely understood the translations of any given chapter’s opening Yoga Sutra or verse from the Bhagavad Gita, I completely understood Judith Hanson Lasater’s explanations. By illustrating each with a personal story she makes the teachings accessible and relatable.

I found myself wrapped up in the short chapters and Lasater’s writing, the combination which caused me to pause for introspection in a way that other, similar type books have rarely managed to do. I paused several times in the reading to jot down a quote or a thought that sprang to mind. Those notes, and my response to the book, are going to wind up in a blog post in the near future!

And THIS is the blog post. 🙂

THE FIRST POP
The first piece that struck a chord was from Spiritual Seeking, the first chapter. Lasater writes that “Suffering is caused by the emotional reaction we lay on top of our pain. By becoming aware of our emotions and thoughts about pain, their hold on us can be released and our suffering can be lessened.” This approach resonated partially because I have a high tolerance for physical pain, and also because I can recall numerous times either I or my children counted backwards while getting a shot.

Taking my mind off the thought of the pain that might come from the shot, and switching my concentration to counting backwards, proved to be a perfect antidote to the “getting” of the shot. It is now not unusual to be completely unaware of when the shot is actually given.

THE SECOND POP
In the third chapter, Letting Go, I immediately thought of when my Dad was living in a nursing home and dealing with Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. Lasater talks about shifting perspective and opening yourself to seeing things the way they really are. With the help of yoga (I began my practice while caring for my Dad) I learned to truly appreciate the moments spent together without letting the sadness interfere with our visits. While yoga did not resolve or negate my sadness, yoga did help me make space for my sadness and at the same time hold space for spending positive time with my Dad in smiles and joy.

THE THIRD POP
During my 200 hour yoga teacher training Paula, one of our three teachers, shared this pithy approach to life: A good “no” is better than a bad “yes.” Imagine my head nodding in agreement upon reading Lasater’s words in Service, chapter sixteen: You can say no if that is more truthful than a resentful yes.

The idea here is that being of service, giving service, is all well and good and important, but not at the expense of the person giving. The caregiver needs to take care of themself in order to be truly able to care for another. So, too, with being of service as a volunteer. It is okay, indeed necessary, to sometimes say “no” or to take a break so as to recharge and not forget the joy in and reason for volunteering in the first place. Sometimes you need to relax and renew in order to sustain.

THE FOURTH POP
Early on, in chapter two on Discipline, Lasater provided thoughts related to practice. All those years of piano practicing as a child in order to “get better” and here are words of wisdom stating that while practicing can improve skills, the heart of practicing isn’t to “get better” but rather what you put into the practice in heart and soul.

Do what you can and do it fully.

Practice is not about what you get, it is about what you give.

thoughts

I do not utter any mantra with regularity or even occasionally. However, I do have these two sentiments on slips of paper, provided during two special yoga classes. I just happened to randomly chose each slip, and both sentiments were spot on for what I needed then and continue to need. These slips sit on the shelf above my bed; they are my welcome reminder to practice what they state.

They are reminders to be here now. While some of my musings on Lasater’s book may seem disjointed, the items that popped out serve as continued reminders to make space for what is and be in the moment.