Lezioni yoga online

Thursday 29 July 2021

Notes on yoga: Yin vs. Restorative

Each practitioner loves one or the other type of yoga. It depends on many factors, might just be the mood, the day, the season, the moon, one period in life.

Some like more yang practices (like Vinyasa, Ashtanga, Hatha...) and other ones like more yin practices, like Restorative and Yin itsself, which are the focus of today's post.

They are slow, calm, cool. They talk to our moon side, the yin side. But as much as this make them similar, they are very different, indeed. I have found while practicing, watching and listening that sometimes they are confused and that the two tags are used interchangeably.

Why and where are they not the same?

1. Duration of the pose (or shape, as we often call asana in these practices). Restorative implies longer holds, typically 10 to 20 minutes. This gives enough time to the body to open up gently, without rush. In Yin, it's about 3 to 7 minutes - or even shorter for beginners, longer for more seasoned practitioners.

2. Sensation. In fact, in Restorative we want almost none. That's why we need longer holds: to give time to the body to open up. We are not rushing anything. We are being passive in the pose. We are allowing the breath to flow and do the work for us, while we are being held - by the wall, chairs, bolsters, blankets and anything that can help. In Yin, we are actually looking for our edge, that particular sensation that we can stay with, using our breath  to check in, until we can start to relax into the pose, while reaching the plastic tissues underneath our muscles. Yin is very active. And remember, sensation is no synonym for pain.

3. Props. Even though both practices use props, Restorative relies heavily on them. It could be some particular yoga prop -  like blocks, bolsters, meditation cushions - but also anything around us - I already mentioned walls, blankets, chairs, even sofa cushions. Be creative with your props. In Yin, you could even work without them, almost using your body parts as a natural weight in a more traditional type of Yin yoga or relying on props - but not as much as to take away sensations. One of my teachers at MyVinyasaPractice who teaches to the traditional form of Yin, always says that props are not illegal. It means: do what feels best for your body. Props are not good or bad as such. No judgment there. (And they are very useful, but that could be part of another post).

I see often Yin and Restorative mixed up, even by teachers themselves. The duration alone doesn't make a shape Yin or Restorative. Sensation - together with intention - does most of the trick. If you are feeling too much sensation, you are not doing a restorative practice. You might want to add some more props, to feel more comfortable in the shape. Or take a variation.

You can raise legs up the wall and make it Yin - for example by pushing the hips more towards the wall. Or it could be a beautifully restorative shape, if you stay inches away from the wall or add some extra padding below the hips. 

And then, more on intention: do you want to keep your joints happier and young? Consider Yin. Are you looking for a passive practice which will help you stay with yourself while gently opening up? Maybe Restorative is the answer. And even if it might be less challenging physically, do not underestimate the challenge of just being. With yourself. 

In the end, each yoga style is just yoga: unity and a way to calm our mind and its chatter. 

It doesn't really matter if you are doing Yin or Restorative, agreed. But it's important to know what you are looking for, what you are doing or what you have signed up for. Or, if you are a teacher, what you are offering to your students.  

Caterpillar, one of the most classic Yin asana


Restorative shape with bolster and cushion for support

Sunday 18 July 2021

Yoga on and off the mat - how to use the practice in everyday life

Every morning, at 8:30, I am downstairs, waiting impatiently for my neighbour, colleague and friend to drive me to our workplace. He is never on time. I try to read the news on my mobile, I watch impatiently at my watch, and even think I might call a cab.
Where does my frustration come from? My neighbour? The delay? 
 Let's look at the facts. My neighbour is a kind soul and a dear friend. He drives me to work every working day. We agreed to meet at 8.30am. I am a very punctual person and expect others to be the same. But let's face it: this has always caused me suffering. Because that is just my expectation and I know for a fact that it is rarely fulfilled in real life! The moment I will cease to have this kind of expectation, I will start my mornings without useless and illogical grudges. 
 Expectations are what we think others should do, or how we think things should go. They do not depend on facts and reality, but on personal perceptions and the storytelling we build to connect the dots in our mind. This is a normal process, it happens to everybody, it's unconscious and there is nothing wrong with it. 
It happens with our yoga practice, too. Our mind creates expectations, based on - let's say - how the teacher is demoing the pose or our idea of the "full expression" of the asana, the one we have seen on Instagram or some magazine. If we took a step away from that mental chattering, and look at the facts, we might be able to acknowledge that our body is not the teacher's body and we can't expect it to move like any other body. And we might even acknowledge that the full expression of an asana is just a chimera. Something that doesn't exist. Or that exist but in many different forms and shapes, as many as the forms and shapes of our bodies. Just acknowledging this simple fact might change the perspective of our practice, bring more fulfillment and joy to it. 
If you think this is a fantastic intuition, I must disappoint you. It is just what the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali says, while defining in not so many words the meaning and aim of Yoga. yogaś citta vṛtti nirodhaḥ means that Yoga aims at quieting the mental chatter, giving the practitioner a tool to stop analyzing, inventing, storytelling. 
In Yoga practice, we go back to the breath when our mind starts wandering. How about off the mat? We can go back to the breath, too. Especially if we get anxious or irritated. Three breaths is a good old trick to quiet any intense sensation or emotion. But also going back to the facts is a good way of making peace with our grudges. 
Let's go back to my neighbour. I say to myself: he is not respecting me by being late! This is not a fact. He is adorable and shows his good feelings for me in multiple ways, and my being attached to that only example of "disrespect" just shows that I have some unresolved material to work with. We will be late at work! The fact is that we are never late at work, even if we don't leave at 8.30. More than that, he does know that he is late and jokes about it because he is unable to make it at 8.30. How about me just acknowledging that his 8.30 reads 8.40 and just adapt to it? Just like I would adapt an asana to my practice. 
 Why being so attached to my 8.30? In Yoga, attachment is one of the five klesha or sufferings. They are the main cause of mysery for people: ignorance, egoism, attachment, aversion, fear of impermanence. And it's incredibly true. Each time I look at a situation in which I am feeling wronged or miserable, I can see that it has something to do with the klesha. I try to acknowledge it and re-start from there. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't. But it is all part of the process of living yoga on and off the mat.
How about you? Are you living your practice off the mat? Maybe you don't even realize it. Stop for one breath and think about it. 



Saturday 10 July 2021

Premio Strega 2021: il vincitore (e altro ancora) - in podcast

In 8 minuti, tutto quello che ho da dire🙂 Buon ascolto! https://www.spreaker.com/episode/45646032

Sunday 4 July 2021

Premio Strega 2021: Due Vite di Emanuele Trevi

 Di Due Vite abbiamo sentito molto parlare - fin dall'inizio dell'avventura che è il Premio Strega - come uno dei probabili vincitori. L'altra favorita, Teresa Ciabatti, si è persa per strada, con buona pace di tutti, prima della cinquina. Lui, invece, accompagnato dal sostegno di Francesco Piccolo, ce l'ha fatta.

Meglio comunque partire dai fatti. E cioè che, leggendo la sinossi, non mi sarei mai avvicinata a questo libro. Non conosco Trevi come autore e non sarei certo partita da qui, se non fosse stato per il Premio Strega. Le storie personali, troppo personali, non mi interessano. 

In questo libro (non un romanzo, ma non lo e' neanche Il Pane Perduto di Edith Bruck, anche lei in cinquina) Trevi prende le vite di due amici, due letterati, intellettuali e scrittori come lui: Rocco Carbone e Pia Pera. E da' loro nuova vita, ne perpetua il ricordo, attraverso le sue memorie, concentrandosi in particolare sulla loro visione della scrittura.

Il libro si legge in un soffio: ha il dono della sintesi e lo stile non lascia indifferenti.

Eppure una volta chiuso, il primo pensiero non è andato alla recensione che ne avrei scritto o a quello che l'autore aveva voluto comunicare. Cosa leggo dopo? mi sono chiesta. E freneticamente la mente scartabellava fra i titoli nel mio Kindle, per l'urgenza di trovare una lettura con cui correre ai ripari. Recuperare il tempo perso. Dimenticare questa parentesi, non brutta, ma... vuota.

Sì, perché mi è parso di avere perso tempo. Non ho ricavato nulla da questo libro - e se non fosse un impegno preso con me stessa, non avrei neppure voluto scrivere queste poche righe. Men che meno ho la curiosità di andare a leggere Carbone e Pera, senza voler per questo mancare di rispetto ai tre amici. 


Due Vite di Emanuele Trevi, edito da Neri Pozza


No, per me non merita il Premio Strega, non ha la levatura della grande letteratura, la capacità di coinvolgere che credo essenziale in un libro che  si candida a rappresentare la letteratura italiana dell'ultimo anno. Nella cinquina ci sono almeno due libri che meriterebbero di più la vittoria.

Staremo a vedere. Il Premio ha una sua logica che a noi lettori, a volte, non è dato capire né condividere.