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Grin and Bear It? Forget ItLearning to let go with restorative yoga by PAMELA POST
Recently, I felt in need of an instant mood lift. I was staring down the barrel of too many deadlines, running on empty. Desperate for a little lightening up, I turned to the fail-safe laughter tonic of my childhood: I Love Lucy. Something light and hilarious from a simpler time would be just the thing to lift my enervated ennui. Score! I found the classic candy factory episode on YouTube, and readied myself for some much-anticipated mood-boosting endorphins. But—WAAAAAHHHH!—I was shocked to dis- cover my reaction to the scene fell as flat as Lucy’s attempts at four-part harmony with Ricky and the Mertzes. The retro vignette that had me in stitches when I was eight revealed itself as a grim, tragicomic tale of modern malaise: an army-sergeant-type factory matron threatens newly hired candy-wrappers Lucy and Ethel with the sack if they allow a single chocolate to pass them on the conveyor belt unwrapped. Lucy and Ethel are unable to keep up. They stuff chocolates into their mouths, hats, apron pockets—anything to hide the evidence and keep up the inhuman pace. The scene is replete with adrenalin, stress, and impending employment doom. This isn’t comedy. It’s frickin’ Kafka! OK, maybe it’s just me. With a premonition that Lucy and Ethel have come back from the ’50s to give me a message, I find myself visiting Evelyn Neaman, one of Vancouver’s leading stress busters. Neaman is an expert in restorative yoga, a form of hatha that gently supports the body into inversions and poses through the aid of bolsters and pillows, and facilitates deep states of relaxation and meditation. “Restorative yoga is all about going inside and refilling our empty wells, so that you don’t need drugs and Holt Renfrew and all those things we use to fill ourselves back up,” says the vivacious and health-radiating Neaman as we share ironic laughs about the craziness of life over a cup of green tea in her Dunbar home. Neaman discovered restorative yoga 12 years ago when she was a busy professional working in the law courts education system. Judges and court workers have since become devotees of her lunchtime classes. Legions of stressed-out new moms and people recovering from chronic and acute illness flock to her home studio for the healing benefits of a practice she calls an “elixir.” “There are very few opportunities to find stillness in your life unless you are a meditator. It’s hard to meditate, and so really, this sort of yoga helps people to meditate in a comfortable way.” An emblematic pose of restorative yoga is the “legs up the wall” posture, where you lie on your back with your back gently supported by a blanket or bolster, legs stretched comfortably—you guessed it—up the wall. “They say that as you grow old, you [can] get younger by reversing the flow of gravity in your body,” Neaman says. “Most people think they have to do more to get more, but you actually do less to get more in restorative yoga.” Enough talk. Evelyn takes me down into her luxurious basement home studio that she calls her “yoga cave” for a 90-minute session of restorative yoga. To the sounds of music, the playing of crystal bowls and chanting, she covers me in blankets, tucking me in like a loving mother. She puts me in gentle poses, bolsters supporting me. Sandbags are placed along my lower back. She nests my aching neck into the soft support of a folded blanket. A lavender-scented eye pillow closes out the stimuli of the world. Crystal stones are dotted along the chakra points of my body. “Crystals have been still for millennia,” she whispers. “They help facilitate our stillness.” As she guides my body into deeper and deeper states of comfort, she continually asks, “Are you comfortable? A hundred per cent?” She knows we have a tendency to hold discomfort, grin and bear it. That’s not allowed in restorative yoga. This is about letting go. The session ends with listening to a yoga nidra guided imagery tape that promotes body awareness and stillness. It’s the ultimate yin experience of receiving, in stark contrast to the relentless yang of our “doing” culture. As if reaching the merciful end of a Desi Arnaz song, the Babalú beat of incessant stressful thoughts has stopped beating in my head, and I’m ready to laugh again. I’ve been fed an elixir indeed—even better than one of Lucy’s cure-all vitamin-meat-vegetable-and-mineral pills in “Vitameatavegamin”! Now that’s a funny episode.
March Body Talk |
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