I recently attended a four-day teacher training with Judith Lasater in Hobart, Tasmania. I admire Judith’s teaching greatly. Her classes are a tapestry of asana, meditation, philosophy, anatomy and physiology, embellished with plenty of humour, insight and compassion. Her practical wisdom is inspired by her experiences as a physical therapist, yoga teacher, wife and mother. She truly lives her Yoga, and encourages us all to do the same.

During the four day training, we began each session by chanting Yoga sutra II-16: “Heyam dukham anagatam” – meaning “the suffering that is to come can be avoided”. If we are guided by compassion, for ourselves as well as others, our present actions can help us to avoid future suffering.

Judith sees compassion as a combination of love, clarity and discrimination. It arises when we choose to do the things that open our hearts. With that in mind, our first homework assignment was to write down five things would bring us joy. I recommend this practice, the simple act of writing down the things that make you happy is encouragement in itself to find more opportunities to do them! Listening to others reading their list of heart openers is inspiring too.

Cultivating compassion for ourselves is a worthwhile pursuit. We tend to be much harder on ourselves than we are on everyone else. How many times a day do we criticise our imperfections, wish we had done better, achieved more or eaten less? When such negative thoughts arise, Judith encourages us to say to ourselves: ‘How human of me!” This statement allows us to soften, to let go of guilt, and acknowledge that we do the best we can in any given situation.
Yoga is a strategy for creating happiness. If we spend our time on the mat striving for the perfect pose, we miss the point of the practice. The suffering that is to come can be avoided if we learn to accept every aspect of who we are. If we can discover what opens our hearts, compassion and joy will follow.

As Judith so aptly put it: “Forget enlightenment, go for happiness!”

~ Lynda Miers-Henneveld 

Yoga teaches us to embrace the natural rhythms of life. Through our practice we can ground ourselves in times of instability, or motivate and energise ourselves when we feel stuck. A personal practice has to reflect our changing circumstances if it is to support us in our journey through this life. If we stay present to what is happening in our bodies, minds and hearts, we can adapt our practice intuitively. As the lessons we learn on the mat begin to infuse our lives, we become more skilled at opening to grace and meeting everyday challenges mindfully.

Our practice reflects our lives in its plateaus and transitions. Sometimes we are inspired and find great clarity, and this may carry over into our lives as confidence or physical strength. We may be inspired to take on a challenge from which we would normally shy away. At other times we feel frustrated at the seeming repetitiveness of certain themes or physical restrictions, and this may translate as impatience. If we come back time and time again to the careful observations of our mind, body and breath, we will begin to see the subtle shifts that are taking place, even though on the surface we seem to be stuck. Then we will know what is required, and the appropriate practice will reveal itself to us.

We may feel a sense of loss at letting go of a practice that has sustained us through a certain phase. For instance, if a strong asana practice has been helpful at a time when physical strength was our greatest need, we may fail to see that it is exhausting us when our personal circumstances call for rest or reflection. It’s not always immediately clear when our practice is out of sync with our life, but again, if we observe carefully, we see our restlessness or inertia as signposts to a slight change in direction that will inspire our practice and ease the transitions that are part of our evolution.

When I attended my first yoga class, I was a mother of one-year-old twins. My main motivation to try yoga at that stage was to become fitter, stronger and more able to cope with the physical demands of parenting two small children. The practice certainly delivered its promise of increased strength and flexibility, and learning to relax fully in Savasana was a great way to combat the exhaustion of dealing with two active toddlers.

As my children grew older yoga made its way into family life. Many after-school conversations were had in Viparita Karani, the three of us lying side by side on the dining room floor, with our legs up the wall. The pose slowed us all down enough to really connect and share the events of the day. This incidental yoga became as valuable to me as my formal practice.

My children are now in their last year of high school. It’s obvious that the end of this year will mark a major transition for us as a family. A shift such as this is inevitably tinged with sadness, as we leave behind the familiar patterns of family life. It’s also full of excitement, as they make big decisions about their future, and we all find a new sense of direction. The fear of letting go of the familiar can be eased by the realisation that this letting go creates an opportunity to embrace something new more wholeheartedly.

In the past few weeks it has become clear to me that my practice has been a little out of sync with my life. A sense of restlessness and lack of focus has made me realise that it’s time to reassess how my practice can better serve to balance my energy. Here too, there needs to be some letting go of familiar patterns, so that new ones can emerge. I don’t need to know what form these new patterns will take. I simply need to slow down enough to let the rhythms of my life reveal them to me.

“I need to recover a rhythm in my heart that moves my body first and my mind second; that allows my soul to catch up with me. I need to take a sacred pause, as if I were a sun-warmed rock in the centre of a rushing river.” ~ Dawna Markova

~ Lynda Miers-Henneveld