Alignment Yoga

Human Flourishing

2018-08-13T19:14:00.001-05:00

This afternoon my wife asked if I needed anything for the forthcoming school year. After my obligatory response of a pencil sharpener and a Batman lunch box, I responded in the negative. I have enough stuff, and I am eager to start my 3rd year of graduate school independent of the contents of any back-to-school sales. In many respects, I'm more enthused for the start of this forthcoming academic year than I have been for any prior year. In no small measure, my enthusiasm for the forthcoming school year is related to the course that I am assistant teaching this Fall.

The Wisconsin Idea is alive and well!

The invitation to join The Art and Science of Human Flourishing teaching team was an honor, and I immediately jumped at the opportunity to be a part of this innovative initiative. I'm a bit wistful that such a course wasn't offered when I was an undergraduate at The University of Minnesota, though I'm happy to pay forward whatever I may have learned from an adulthood immersed in studying meditation, movement and Yoga.

This course will explore flourishing through three lenses; through the lens of science, through the lens of wisdom traditions, and via direct experience. I love seeing the findings of science steeped with the humanities' consideration of the human condition, and I am happy for the undergrads that may benefit from directly experiencing the wisdom that flows from both of these streams.

This course begins the week after Labor Day, and runs the duration of the 15-week Fall semester. Amidst writing a thesis proposal and coursework (statistics), I hope to post periodic updates.

The Face and How We Feel

2018-07-27T19:23:00.001-05:00

In my last blog posting, I briefly discussed the complexity of mammalian faces. Through microscopic changes in facial muscles, we both communicate our feelings to others, and feel the feelings of others. Our communication and perception of feeling and emotion is an embodied experience, by and large mediated by the muscles of our faces.

I'm working on letting down my guard around brassicas.

In the Polyvagal Theory of Dr. Stephen Porges, it's suggested that the state of our nervous system is directly connected to the same facial muscles that communicate and perceive. In Dr. Porges' theory, when our bodies are in growth and recovery mode, inhibition of facial musculature is reduced - in rest and recovery (parasympathetic activation), mammals are particularly tuned to engage with others. Conversely, when mammals are in fight, flight or freeze (FFF) mode, the facial muscles are inhibited - in FFF (sympathetic activation), the inhibition of facial musculature impairs social connection, and mammals devolve into everyone for themselves behaviors.

I'm fascinated by the proposed brainstem/face connection. The state of our nervous system (the continuum of growth and recovery to FFF) influences our capacity to meaningfully connect? I find it even more interesting that the mechanism of this connection (or disconnection) is embodied, and largely via the musculature of our faces.

Researchers have dedicated years to exploring this theory, and the theory remains just that - a theory. There are some applications of the Polyvagal Theory that make some highfalutin claims, though many of these claims have yet to be rigorously substantiated.

I'm bringing some of these ideas to my personal laboratory (the Movement Lab of my yoga mat and Pilates equipment), and am intrigued by what I feel and experience. I will continue studying the fascinating work of Dr. Porges, and look forward to sharing more of what I learn in future blog postings.

Let’s face it…

2018-06-29T12:50:00.002-05:00

The human face is a remarkably expressive palette. Virtually the instant that we see someone, we have a sense of how they’re feeling. Their subsequent words may modulate our initial impression, though we largely read emotion through microscopic changes in facial expression. These flickers and flashes of expression provide a moment-by-moment dialogue in our interactions with others.

Facial Expression says a lot.

The scientific literature is dense with research on nonverbal communication, and I’ve heard respected scientists cite that fully 92% of our communication occurs nonverbally. Whether or not the figure is 92%, 78% or even 57%, it appears as though humans communicate more through movement and expression than through the sophistication of our words, turns of phrases and/or witty bon mot.

Put another way, communication is embodied. Bodies communicate to bodies, and we can almost consider words the supporting players in the sophistication of human communication. For example, primates (including humans) perceive the feelings of other primates by mirroring their facial expressions. When I see you, my face will quickly match your face. By experiencing in my face the countenance of your face, I can literally feel what you’re feeling. And by feeling what others feel, empathy naturally arises. The capacity to empathize is literally hardwired into us.

Relatedly, deficits in making facial expressions have been shown to produce deficits in reading the emotional state of others. An interesting study looked at deficits in reading emotion in people who had received Botox injections. Botox reduces facial wrinkles by paralyzing the facial muscles that underlie the wrinkles. When someone who has received Botox treatments is shown an emotionally laden image of a face, they are far slower to identify what the pictured person is feeling. By losing their use of some facial muscles, the Botoxed people are less able to perceive what others are feeling.

Faces are remarkably communicative, and I’ve been paying more attention to the complexity of countenance in recent weeks. The muscles around the eyes, mouth and nose, in particular, tell us so much about the inner life of others.

In coming weeks, I’ll be writing more about the human face and its neural control. This is in preparation for my forthcoming Blue Mounds Dharma Center retreat, Yoga, Cardiac Control and Well-Being.

Avidya (... or the case for working with a teacher)

2018-06-01T20:11:00.002-05:00

The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali (YS) are often portrayed as the canon of Yogic thought. While the evidence that supports this assertion is pretty shaky, there is a good deal of wisdom embedded with the YS. Since I first read Swami Hariharananda's translation 30+ years ago, I've returned to aspects of the sutras again and again. Among the YS best-of elements is its discussion of the impediments, or Kleshas. There are five kleshas that are mentioned in the YS, and my motivation to maintain a close, working relationship with a spiritual teacher is rooted in the first Klesha, called Avidya. Unfortunately, the Sanskrit word avidya is often translated into the English word, ignorance. Ignorance, however, scarcely acknowledges the depth of avidya, and operating with this definition too-often devolves into a spiritual materialism that readily takes on judgmental overtones.

The 1984 translation that first introduced me
to the YS.

I had the good fortune of receiving an inspiring teaching on avidya while at the Mind and Life XXII meeting in New Delhi, India back in 2010. (I wrote about Swami Atmapriyananda's teaching in a contemporaneous blog posting, so will skip describing it here.) Suffice it to say, Swami-ji made it clear that Avidya was all about expanding awareness of what you did not know that you did not know, and not about recognizing what you already know that you don't know. There is a difference between knowing what you don't know (I do not know wavelet analysis), and not knowing what you don't know (avidya, or spiritual ignorance.)

Swami Atmapriyananda and the Dalai Lama at
Mind & Life XXII

I've found that teachers bring awareness to what I didn't know that I didn't know, and these insights have proven to be useful in my life. In physical practice, for example, I was not aware of the extent to which I was retracting my shoulder blades in shoulder flexion. When a skilled Pilates teacher pointed this out to me, the insight helped me enjoy much more freedom in my ribcage. I was grateful to reap the benefits of having this pattern pointed out to me.

In my spiritual life, I've been grateful to enjoy the teachings and community that I receive by working with Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche. Under Rinpoche's tutelage, I've seen aspects of my thinking patterns and behaviors that are not congruent with how I like to think I'm carrying myself in this world. I didn't know the extent to which I protected my identifications, and have benefited from having light shone on my thinking/belief patterns. And once I knew what I didn't know, the ignorance blossomed into the path, and I've felt richly rewarded in the process. While I've heard people refer to the wisdom of the inner guru and how teachers are no longer necessary, my experience indicates otherwise. Despite decades of dedicated practice, I've found that in the absence of a teacher, teachings and dharma brothers & sisters, the mental patterns that lead me astray have largely remained in the shadows of unawareness.

Tomorrow morning I'm off to St. Paul to take retreat with Mingyur Rinpoche, and I am alternately excited and a little bit apprehensive. Excited, because I feel fortunate to have the opportunity to meditate and explore the nature of my own mind; and a little apprehensive, because retreat generally nudges me out of cozy-dharma practice. While I love to feel happy and good, it's always a crapshoot on how I actually feel when faced with my own mind for hours on end. In the end, however, I've always come back from retreat feeling a healthier human being. I am grateful for this opportunity, and hope to share whatever I may learn in future Yoga classes and meditation sessions.

Updates (c-c-c-change)

2018-05-26T16:39:00.002-05:00

The '17/18 academic year has recently drawn to a close, and I'm currently enjoying some introspective time while visiting Maui. This past semester was eventful, and time for reflection is proving to be nourishing.

As many of you know, I've been enthusiastically studying joint laxity and its correlation with various health states. As my research expanded, I found loose joints (joint hypermobility) accompanying various conditions with shocking frequency. Conditions as seemingly unrelated as anxiety, osteoarthritis, autoimmune disease, and chronic fatigue all occur more frequently in those who have hyper-mobile joints! While I had a lot of good support from mentors and colleagues, the path forward in translating ideas to outcomes remained frustratingly elusive. As another academic year came and went without a clear sense of how I'd translate ideas into funded research (and a PhD degree), I made the difficult decision to change labs.

My bones feel nourished by Maui.

I'm not change averse, though in the Ayurvedic worldview, I tend to be more Earth-y than Water-y. It's been said that I change direction with the grace and elegance of a barge navigating a small harbor (or a bull in a china shop.) While I'm still sorting out the ripples resulting from this recent change, I'm very excited to return to researching Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and the use of Yoga interventions to help improve lives.

As of mid-March, I am now a member of the Motor & Brain Development Lab at the University of Wisconsin - Madison. Under the tutelage of Dr. Brittany Travers, I will finish up the data analysis from the YogAutism study. I have been part of the YogAutism study since its beginning, and am honored to rejoin this collaboration with the Center for Healthy Minds. The next-steps in getting these data ready for public consumption are primarily in the realm of statistics and analysis. In forthcoming blog postings, I will share more of my enthusiasm/apprehension about these next-steps in my continued development as a scientist.

Stuff I Learned - Week #2

2018-02-05T18:17:00.004-06:00

The first lecture began with a disclaimer that Yoga is not5000 years old. The professor then went on to explain that Yoga is a philosophy that is 2600 years old, at most, and that the yoga postures didn’t arise until even later. Having read Yoga Body and other books about Yoga’s history, this was not an entirely surprising revelation. New for me, though, was the careful and methodical unraveling of Yoga: Methods and Goals – the name of the graduate-level class that I am taking at the University of Wisconsin – Madison this semester.

I met this cat at a market in the south Indian city of Mysore.

I’m not sure why I first checked out the course offerings within the Religious Studies Department. Certainly, I had enough coursework to keep me occupied within my specialty, the neural control of movement. Be that as it may, I found a surfeit of interesting courses within the Religious Studies department; courses on the history and philosophy of my long term interests, Yoga and Buddhism. Reading the descriptions of the various courses, I felt like a kid in a candy store, and I remember asking myself; can these courses really move me closer to my goal of earning a PhD in Kinesiology? Well, the answer may be a qualified yes – pursuing a PhD Minor in Religious Studies may not be the most direct path to earning a PhD in Kinesiology, though adding a Minor in Religious Studies certainly promises to add a lot of richness to my life and teaching!

I feel like a treasure hunter as I research the earliest
textual references to Sirsasana.

The semester is still young, though I’ve already learned a good deal about the earliest flickers of Yoga philosophy. I just read the Katha Upanishad, which is among the first texts that lays out the essence of Yoga philosophy (as opposed to the Vedic philosophy that predates Yoga). Written at about the time of the Buddha, the Katha Upanishad outlined three key concepts that are considered foundational to Yoga philosophy. What makes Yoga philosophy distinct from what precedes it? The three key concepts that help define Yoga are:

·      Our current life exists within an infinite cycle of births and deaths (samsara)
·      The accumulation of actions from previous lives (Karma) determines the fate of your birth
·      The possibility of liberation from the suffering of these cycles of birth & death (Moksha)

Next week’s readings come from the Indian epic poem, the Mahabharata. In particular, two sections of this classic poem are said to relate most directly to Yoga philosophy: the Moksadharma, and the Santiparvan. I’ll let you know what I learn in a forthcoming blog posting!

"Mysore" Pilates

2018-01-24T13:14:00.002-06:00

I feel fortunate that my first introduction to Yoga occurred within a culture of daily practice. At the Minneapolis Yoga Workshop, the very first classes introduced students to the power of personal practice, and provided the resources necessary to embody it. In hindsight, I realized that William Prottengeier's dedication to personal practice was unique, and I'm forever grateful that I was steeped in his Yoga-culture.

While my yogasana-orbit ultimately led me away from the Iyengar system, I landed in another system that emphasized personal practice - the Ashtanga Vinyasa community. While I did attend some guided Ashtanga classes, most of my training in Ashtanga Yoga occurred within the context of Mysore-classes.

Mysore is the city in South India where modern yoga sprang forth. In the Ashtanga culture of Mysore, students sequentially learned the series under the direct guidance of their teacher - what's called a Mysore class. When the teacher ascertained that the student was ready to move forward, they instructed the student in the next-step in the series that was being practiced. In the beginning, students may only have one or two poses they were working on, though were encouraged to show up at the yoga school every day to work on their handful of poses. Upon a degree of mastery of these poses, the teacher would guide the student onto the next rung of their proverbial ladder.

Mysore practice originated in Southern India.

I still love Ashtanga and the Mysore approach, though my older-shoulders aren't as keen on this system as they once were. Despite the changes in my physical body, I still love the focused intensity of a Mysore class; each student is individually working on their own practice, yet contributing to an environment that's simultaneously challenging & supportive.

Last Fall, I was thrilled when the subject of Open Studio was first broached at Pilates on Harrison. While we did not use the term Mysore-style, the similarity was noticed by several faculty members. As the idea of Open Studio gained traction, we dedicated more of our instruction time to the ordering and flow on the various pieces of equipment. Much like Ashtanga Yoga, each of the major pieces of Pilates equipment (Chair, Tower and Reformer) has its Level I-V workouts.

Open Studio does not start with this exercise.

Open Studio is nearly one month old, now, and I'm pleased to report that the vibe of rhythmic, deep breathing and focused awareness is fully expressed in our Open Studio. While I'm excited to be teaching one of our Open Studio classes, I inevitably feel a tinge of envy when I watch the students in my class settling into their personal practice!

If you're a Yoga practitioner that has yet to work on the Pilates equipment, you may find the Open Studio approach to your liking. While students generally require a handful of individual sessions to gain the requisite skills to practice independently, Open Studio allows the full power of Mysore-style practice to take form.

Mismatch

2018-01-15T16:40:00.001-06:00

There is a part of me that feels a little sheepish talking about people that I look up to or am inspired by. This self-consciousness is probably an artifact of my upbringing; my Dad grew up in the shadow of the Depression and WWII, and our home life was more driven by results than by feelings. Despite my hesitation in saying so, there are a handful of people that consistently inspire me to move out of my comfort zone and think big. One of my inspirations is the humanitarian-monk, Matthieu Ricard.

The Shechen clinic helps the poorest of Nepal's poor.

I first spent time with Matthieu at his home base in Kathmandu, Nepal. Over a whirlwind couple of days, Matthieu guided our small group around his various humanitarian projects. We saw just a few of the clinics, schools and hospices that are run by his organization, Karuna-Shechen... and this handful of facilities benefitted a few thousand people each day. Knowing that there were dozens of these programs scattered all around Nepal, India and Tibet blew my mind! On any given day, Matthieu's activities touch the lives of tens of thousands of people. The scale and scope of his commitment to benefitting beings is humbling and inspiring, and to this day, whenever I feel overwhelmed by life or my various commitments, I recall the good in the world that flows in the wake of Matthieu's maroon robes. Almost immediately upon recalling the visage of Matthieu, I'm inspired to carry on.

I respect how the Shechen clinics employ local/traditional medicine
alongside Western modalities.

In addition to the daily inspiration to benefit others, I am also deeply moved by Matthieu's recently published book, A Plea for the Animals. While I was inching toward veganism prior to reading this book, A Plea for the Animals was just the push that I needed to take the plunge into a 100% plant-powered diet.

During Matthieu's recent visit to Madison, we had a chance to talk about his book and how it influenced my decision to change my diet. Almost immediately, Matthieu focused on the idea of mismatch; most of us like, if not love, some animals... while we then eat other animals. How did our feelings about animals become so utterly mismatched?

The Bamboo Schools provide education to the poorest of the poor,
with a particular focus on education girls (almost unheard of in this region!)

I recalled working on a couple farms over the years, and ending up becoming friends with many different animals. Of course, I was fond of hanging out with the barnyard cats, though I also enjoyed throwing sticks for the farm dog. After a few months on the farms, I also came to know and appreciate the personalities of the individual goats, pigs and cows. I came to believe that all the barnyard animals had likes, dislikes and personalities - though I chose to open my heart more to some animals than others.

Matthieu and I talked about this mismatch, and how it consumes a lot of energy. We also talked about a common rationale for this mismatch - well, it's always been done this way. To this assertion, Matthieu animatedly pointed out that human sacrifices and slavery, to name a couple odious examples, were also common practices in human history. And that humans have mercifully moved away from many cruel practices that were once commonplace. Matthieu then asked - can there be a better time to move away from raising baby animal in order to eat them?

The kids start the day with an aspiration to
be of benefit to others.

The day after our conversation, Matthieu presented a beautiful overview of his 50+ years in the Himalayas. Toward the end of a long and inspiring day, a participant asked Matthieu about animals and food. Matthieu's reply was like the unleashing of a force of nature! Despite a long and tiring day, Matthieu's passion for benefiting beings - all beings, shone forth. Matthieu invited us to live steeped in the aspiration to consider the welfare of all beings... and if not now, then when?

Stuff I Learned - Diaphragm Fatigue

2017-12-12T15:12:00.000-06:00

The Lead-In:
The Fall semester is rapidly winding down, and my final task is completing a project for Cardiorespiratory Adaptations to Exercise and Environment. Unfortunately, skiing daydreams are interrupting my progress on this project. I love to ski, and the recent cold snap has me thinking about ski trips past and future. Of my various skiing daydreams, I've been fondly remembering various backcountry trips in Colorado's 10th Mountain System.

The air at Uncle Bud's Hut does not contain a lot of oxygen.
(11.380 feet above sea level)

One dozen years ago, my old friend Steve and I made a late-Winter trip to Uncle Bud's Hut, which is located at the wheezable altitude of 11,380 feet above sea level. For some reason I was renewed in my interest in the supposed benefits of Yogic diaphragmatic breathing, and spent most of the 1600+ foot altitude gain focused on diaphragmatic breathing. By the time we arrived at the hut, I was not only hungry and tired, but nearly doubled over in pain. My entire midsection hurt, and the intense pain briefly convinced me there was something wrong with my spleen. While my spleen was OK, my diaphragm wasn't so happy.

Stuff I've Learned:
As it turns out, diaphragm fatigue is very real, and the diaphragm's central role in respiration means its response to fatigue has an outsized influence on performance. As many of you know, the diaphragm is a muscle, not dissimilar to the hundreds of other muscles in the human body. Muscles get tired, and when they do, they send predictable signals to the brain. Mechanoreceptors in the muscles more or less signal how hard the muscle is working, and metaboreceptors by and large signal how tired the muscle is. When you climb up the side of a mountain, mechanoreceptors and metaboreceptors in your leg muscles send signals to your brain that say "hey, I'm working hard and/or getting tired down here!"

My diaphragm hurt during most of this ski trip.

The diaphragm sends similar signals to the brain, though it seems as though the diaphragm talks louder than the other muscles. The diaphragm is richly innervated with metaboreceptors, and when it gets fatigued, the diaphragm loudly and clearly alerts the brain to the increasing work of breathing.

I'd never really considered the work of the muscles associated with breathing, though respiratory muscles may consume more than 10% of your aerobic capacity when you're climbing up the side of a mountain. That leaves less aerobic capacity for the hardworking legs, which would explain why my legs felt so tired on that trip to Uncle Bud's Hut. To ensure that I was breathing sufficiently to keep my blood oxygenated, my body automatically diverted blood from my leg muscles and sent this blood to my diaphragm muscle.

What have I learned on the side of the mountain and in the classroom? Don't spend too much time messing with your breathing! Unless you clearly have a pathological breathing habit and or patterning, your body already knows exactly how to breathe. There are many variables involved (I discussed this in a previous blog that introduces the concept of DFWI), and your clever body keeps track of all those variables automatically.

The human body is really amazing. Again and again I'm awed by its clever adaptations. Your body is an embodiment of this precious human life; I hope that you can all stay physically active, get plenty of rest, connect with community, eat whole foods, and spend some time in silence during this busy time of year!

Why Re-Invent a Wheel?

2017-12-03T10:49:00.002-06:00

In what seems like a previous life, I worked as a racecar mechanic and fabricator. Under the tutelage of whiz/ace mechanic Daniel V. Campbell, I gained a working understanding of metallurgy, milling, welding and other metal crafting skills.

As I gained more confidence in the shop, I often found myself murmuring I can make that. Whether parts for my motorcycles, snowboard binding parts or exhaust parts for the Volkswagen Vanagon that I drove at the time, I took great delight in designing and fabricating the parts that I needed.

Despite my enthusiasm in applying my newfound skills, my wise mentor often cautioned me against willy-nilly making my own stuff. Among the more experienced fabricators, there was a common refrain; in the long run, it's usually cheaper and easier to buy what is commercially available than to build your own. At first I rejected this almost-mantra as heresy, though I soon came to appreciate its wisdom. It didn't take many dulled mill bits or measure-twice-wreck-once experiences with expensive raw materials to dim my enthusiasm on making the stuff that was readily available to buy.

Removing the transaxle required supporting the engine.
The Saab part was prohibitively expensive, so I welded my own.

I came to relish the opportunity to design parts that uniquely solved problems, and then enjoyed the opportunity to practice shop craft in turning a hunk of metal into something uniquely functional (and in the Bauhaus-ian view, often quite beautiful). Conversely, when a good solution or part was commercially available, I came to appreciate all the work that went into making a good product, and more cheerfully dug out my credit card to reward the small businesses that produced what I wanted/needed.

I have come to a similar view in working with the body. As many of us have found, a single-minded focus on Yoga may lead to a gradual loss of beneficial muscle-mass, and painfully unstable joints. I'm heartened to see how many formerly single-minded yogis and yoginis are embracing the fitness that can support and complement their love of yoga. What I find surprising, though, is how many yogis and yoginis seem to feel that they need to invent some new fitness form in order to meet their needs.

The fitness world is filled with some pretty dubious claims and outlandish systems - I fully acknowledge how crazy the gym-scene may look for recovering yogis and yoginis. That being said, there are also some wonderfully wise fitness systems in existence that have wholly thrived under the test of time.

Making the jigs to support the main shaft of the Saab 9000
transaxle allowed me to replace a mainshaft bearing at minimal cost.

The Pilates system, in my opinion, is one of these wise fitness systems. I have found that the Pilates system allows me to apply the mindfulness that I cultivated in my 30+ years of Yoga practice within a framework that is well developed and vetted. I currently practice Pilates 3-4 days/week, and with almost every session I experience OMG insights on the subtlety and power of the seemingly-simple exercises. Particularly with the Pilates equipment, I find the support and resistance provided by the springs to be nothing short of brilliant in developing greater awareness, strength and efficient neuromuscular recruitment patterns.

At some point, I may exhaust the reservoir of the Pilates system, and I'll probably feel inspired to build my own system. But after 12+ years of regular Pilates practice, I don't feel anywhere near outgrowing Pilates. I really appreciate the community of practitioners and accumulated wisdom that comes from being part of an existing system, and have come to delight in sharing what I'm learning about the mind and body through the lens of Pilates.

Of course, there are other wise systems besides Pilates. Free weights and Olympic lifting can be a mindful path, as can running, biking, etc. What systems/forms have you found that feed you?

Paraphrasing my old friend and mentor Daniel: if something doesn't exist, then build it. But if it already exists, think twice before darting off to reinvent the wheel.

Stuff I Learned - Isometric Contraction

2017-11-08T10:16:00.003-06:00

Perhaps you remember Hans and Franz of Saturday Night Live? They were keenly interested in pumping you up, and demonstrated the results of their workout regimen at the slightest provocation.

Hans and Franz want to pump you up. You can see the
results as they contract muscles isometrically.

Posing like Hans, Franz or California's former Governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, involves isometric muscle contraction. When you make a muscle, you're contracting your muscles isometrically. While Yoga tends to de-emphasize bulking up with muscle mass, most yoga poses also involve isometric muscle contraction.

Isometric muscle contraction is different than dynamic muscle contraction in some significant ways. One key difference between dynamic muscle contraction (found in common activities like walking, running or biking) and static muscle contraction is the rate of blood flow to the working muscle. In dynamic muscle contraction, the blood flow to the working muscle increases. In static, or isometric, muscle contraction, the blood flow to the working muscle decreases.

When muscles are working, they need more nutrients in order to maintain their activity. With dynamic contraction, the blood flow to the muscle increases. In isometric contraction, on the other hand, blood flow actually decreases. Why does the blood flow decrease in isometric contraction at just the time that the muscles are needing more blood supply? Because the static contraction of the muscle presses so hard on the blood vessels that the blood supply is impeded. With sufficient isometric contraction (effort), the blood supply to the working muscle may actually be shut off.

When working muscles are not receiving the blood that they need to continue working, receptors in the working muscle send a signal to the brain - more blood, right now! The cardiovascular control centers of the brain then generate greater activation of the sympathetic nervous system, which both raises heart rate and blood pressure.

Put another way - holding isometric contraction may catalyze a fight, flight, freeze response. Now, don't worry - this is not to suggest that holding yoga poses is a stressor. Far from it - I think many of us have experienced the relaxing benefits of a satisfying yoga practice.

If isometric contraction (holding poses) may cause greater sympathetic activation, how does Yoga work? One theory is that the relaxation at the end of a session allows your central nervous system to overcorrect after having modestly upregulated due to the various Yoga techniques. It's thought that holding poses may cause sympathetic activation, and resting in Savasana at the end of class gives your system the time and space to overcorrect into a state of greater relaxation.

In the past few years, I've seen more teachers shorten or even eliminate the relaxation at the end of class. Even though many people are busy and it can seem like a waste of time to lie still, in many respects, I think Savasana may be the most important yoga pose. If you aren't getting a chance for your autonomic nervous system to reset at the end of your class or practice, I encourage you to take that extra 5-10 minutes to do so.

Stuff I Learned - Circulatory System

2017-10-29T09:23:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, my family drove a ginormous Ford van. True to the times, it was fully customized with the requisite shag carpeting, wood paneling and captain's chairs. Sweet.

In addition to feeling like a rolling living room, it had two huge fuel tanks. Each tank was probably about as big as my entire Smart Car, and the range of the Econoline was remarkably long. It felt like refueling took the better part of the day, though I scarcely remember ever stopping for gas in that van. I have fond late-70's memories of road trips to my family's cabin, track meets, and ski trips in that van - mostly accomplished without having to stop to refuel.

Pedestrians - get out of the way!
Small window made it hard to see
out of groovy vans.

Why am I reminiscing about the van that caused global warming? I'm mentioning this van because it had a large capacity to carry fluid, and it did so by having more than one reservoir to handle all its capacity. The human body similarly has a lot of fluid to carry around - in the body's case, the fluid I'm referencing is blood.

Circulating blood is necessary for life, and the body is engineered with lots of blood capacity. Copious blood capacity is a good thing, as having just enough blood to get by would mean that even a small wound and blood loss would be fatal. Evolutionary pressures favored the creatures that had extra blood carrying capacity, and we now walk around with reservoirs of blood that are carried in different tanks in our bodies.

One of the tanks carrying our extra blood capacity are the abdominal organs (splanchnic region). As you're reading this blog, there are likely at least a few pints of blood sloshing around in your body that are not actively involved in maintaining your life. They're in reserve, waiting to perfuse tissues, as needed.

This blood capacity isn't just for protecting against blood loss. When you exercise, this extra blood capacity is also very useful. Exercising muscles require lots of nutrients and oxygen, and it's the blood that carries these substances to the muscles. In addition, exercising muscles release lots of waste by-products that need to be carried away from from the action. While the body has a lot of blood capacity, the working muscles have a huge appetite for blood, and there is not enough blood to supply every tissue all at once.

The body's response is clever - during exercise, blood supply is directed to the working muscles, and away from areas that are less important in supporting the activity. Your body automatically reapportions blood away from lower-priority tasks and toward higher-priority tasks.

After I finish writing this blog, for example, I'm planning to head out to Blue Mound State Park for an ~8-mile trail run. During that run, my legs will require a lot of blood - some of the major muscles will require to the tune of 3-5 liters of blood flow per minute. That's a lot of blood, and that rate of consumption would even exhaust the volumetric carrying capacity of the 1977 Econoline van!

My body will make some interesting adaptations to accommodate this activity. Once I decide to begin running, my brain stem will signal my sympathetic nervous system to initiate a modest fight/flight/freeze response. This sympathetic activation will increase my heart rate and constrict the blood vessels throughout my body. In the first minutes of my run, my rest and digest response will diminish, and my heart rate will rapidly increase due to this parasympathetic withdrawal.

This blog isn't really about vans, though I now have vans on my mind.
From ages 16 - 35, I primarily drove VW vans.

As the exercise continues, metaboreceptors in my muscles will sense accumulating waste byproducts, and will send signals to my brainstem requesting greater blood flow. My body will respond by opening up the floodgates of blood flow to the working muscles, while further restricting blood flow to any muscles that aren't working. In addition to redirecting blood flow away from non-working muscles and toward working muscles, my body will more or less shut down my GI tract, and divert the huge amount of blood in the splanchnic reservoir toward my working muscles.

In the 1977 Econoline van, a switch on the dashboard shifted fuel supply from one tank to the other tank. In the human body, the shifting of blood flow occurs automatically. During this morning's run, I will not need to focus on or visualize redirecting blood flow - it happens organically thanks to the vast intelligence that infuses the human body.

When I run, I try to reduce the degree to which I control my movements. Most of my conscious awareness of running is just that - awareness. I practice feeling my feet contacting the ground, sensing the movement of prana/breath, and enjoying the unfolding scenery that surrounds me. Particularly for those of us who have embraced movement practices, it can be tempting to micromanage movement experiences.

This micromanaging can take various forms, though the most common forms are holding the body in the right way, and/or controlling breathing. As I've mentioned in previous blog entries, I encourage you to resist the temptation to use movement practices as a means to reinforce controlling tendencies, and use movement and movement practices to connect with the vast intelligence that pervades the human body.

Have a great week!

Scott

Keep an eye out for the Helpers

2017-10-20T07:53:00.000-05:00

The other night I had just cleaned up after dinner, and was settling down with Buddy Cat to go over notes from last week's Exercise Physiology lecture. In my final lead-up procrastination (procrastination takes many forms), I flipped to The Last Word column in the The Week magazine, and found a loving tribute to Mr. Rogers.

Mr. Rogers and Daniel Striped Tiger

As I read the article, I grew misty-eyed thinking about the kindness that Mr. Rogers seemed to embody. As Anthony Breznican described his chance encounter with Fred Rogers, I was transported back to the magical world of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. His neighborhood was filled with kindness and appreciation - basic goodness.

Each day we have many opportunities to embody kindness and appreciation for the myriad beings that surround us. May we enjoy every opportunity to be the kind of helper that Mr. Rogers speaks of.

Have a great week,

Scott

Stuff I Learned - ANS

2017-10-12T11:09:00.004-05:00

For years, the book The Anatomy of Hatha Yoga sat on my bed stand, and I cannot estimate how many times I read and reread this classic text. In this and other readings, I came to appreciate yoga's influence on the Autonomic Nervous System (ANS), and in particular its potential to shift our response mode from a potentially inappropriate fight/flight/freeze response to a more sustainable rest and digest default status.

The human heart beats at about 100 bpm,
even if disconnected from
neural input.

Among the organs that are influenced by the ANS is the heart and its rate. Heart rate is naturally set to about 100 beats per minute (bpm) by pacemaker cells in the heart. In the absence of ANS input, your heart naturally beats at about 100 bpm. Provided sufficient nutrition, the human heart continues to beat at this steady drum beat even when outside of the body and disconnected from the brain or any other neural input. (please, do not try this at home.)

Your ANS regulates your
heart rate.

While 100 bpm is a pretty functional default heart rate, it's too slow to sufficiently supply blood to your brain and working muscles during exercise, and faster than is necessary to supply your tissues with blood while you're resting. Here's where the brilliance of the body shines forth; your ANS modulates your heart rate to match the needs of your tissues. The rest and digest (parasympathetic) aspect of your ANS acts to lower your heart rate while you're resting. In the adjacent diagram, the shaded portion labelled vagus represents the parasympathetic activation that actively lowers your heart rate while you're resting. The fight/flight/freeze (sympathetic) aspect of your ANS raises your heart rate while you're active or otherwise aroused.

What does this mean for those of us that are living in bodies? Both the sympathetic and parasympathetic aspects of your ANS are essential for optimal health. It can be easy to misinterpret discussions of the ANS and conclude that

sympathetic = bad
parasympathetic = good

Unfortunately, this simplification is incorrect. What's bad about sympathetic response is not its existence, but the chronicity of its overactivity in our 21st century lives. We need the heart rate to rise when we're active, and it's also vitally important that we have the capacity to relax. Thankfully, regular exercise and contemplative practices like Yoga have the potential to facilitate optimal regulation of the ANS.

In the interest of mental and physical health, are you taking some time each week for physical activity?

Back Post-Mortem

2017-10-07T06:50:00.002-05:00

My back used to go out regularly. As many of you have probably also experienced, back events make verticality difficult, and activities such as rolling over in bed and sneezing become major hurdles. I was probably about 13 or 14 years old when I first experienced back pain, and ever since I've episodically been reminded of samsara's suffering.

The last time that my back went out was in November of 2014. I remember that event clearly, as I was scheduled to teach an out-of-town yoga workshop the following weekend. I could barely stand up without assistance, though rescheduling the workshop wasn't really feasible. With some Aleve and adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream, I traveled, taught, and wasn't that much worse for the wear.

While my back started hurting shortly after the
eclipse, I'm disinclined to think they're related.

Since then, I redoubled my focus on Pilates, and I've enjoyed one of the longest stretches of a strong back since I was a kid. After 2+ years without an episode, I was starting to think that I'd finally licked my sacral-iliac (SI) joint instability.

Alas, samsara is still wrought with suffering! At the very beginning of this school year, my back went out. It was not the worst episode I've experienced - far from it. I couldn't stand up very straight for a few days, and I moved around the house like I had suddenly aged a few decades, though I was still able to execute life's tasks without too much assistance. Thankfully I've learned a few things about managing my back; avoid stretching the tight muscles, take anti-inflammatory meds and resist the temptation to realign my SI joint or lumbar spine by cracking anything.

While it's always tempting to find the cause of a life event, in my experience causality is often more nuanced and multi-faceted than the one thing. After reflecting on the lead-up to this incident, I've identified three factors that I think contributed to the most recent episode.

Last Summer I felt so good that I ran outdoors at every opportunity. Staying inside and working on the Pilates equipment or doing a mat workout didn't seem as compelling as running in the Arb or Blue Mound State Park. As a result, I neglected to keep up on the core work that was allowing me to feel so good!
My gait mechanics were disturbed after a minor foot injury. As I often teach in therapeutic Yoga and Pilates sessions, a minor shift in gait can transfer stress into the lower-back. Eight miles into a late-Summer twelve mile trail run, I tripped over a root. Ever since, I have been slightly favoring my right foot. I don't think this compensation was sufficient to cause my back to go out, though I think the slight stress on my back compounded the other contributors.
Stress. When I teach Yoga and Pilates, I almost always find that people experience lower-back episodes during stressful times. Alas, I was feeling stressed about the upcoming school year and my heavier-than-usual course load.

By themselves, none of these stressors were all that significant; taken together, I think they were sufficient to remind me to practice the things that I teach.

I'm now back into the rhythm of the school year, and happily vertical, again!

Stuff I Learned - Autism as Movement Disorder?

2017-10-01T16:49:00.001-05:00

Being in graduate school allows me to wear many hats. One of the hats is that of teacher; to the undergrads in the anatomy course that I TA, I'm one of the teaching staff. Another hat is that of student; I'm still deep in the throes of taking coursework, with the full repertoire of exams, presentations and papers. And as graduate school progresses, my biggest hat will ultimately become that of researcher.

While I'm just starting to dip my toes into the role of researcher, I'm already learning a lot about the cutting edge research in my various areas of interest.

This fellow is wearing a very large hat.

As many of you know, I've long been interested in Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). The non-profit that I helped to found, YogAutism, sprung from my initial forays into bringing the benefits of Yoga to those with ASD. Now that I'm choosing a research focus, one of my interests is building on the research that began with YogAutism.

ASD is generally defined by challenges with social interaction, though it's becoming clearer that a retinue of movement disorders also accompany the ASD diagnosis. Some researchers have gone so far as to suggest that ASD is primarily a movement disorder, with social challenges riding on the proverbial coattails of the disordered movement patterns.

I think it's too soon for us to reframe ASD as primarily a movement disorder, though I do think it may be fruitful to consider how movement practices may reduce the challenges of living with ASD. If particular patterns of brain connectivity correlate with the movement and social challenges of ASD, is it too great a leap to consider how movement practices may help rewire (neuroplasticity) the brain? These are the sorts of research questions that I'm starting to ask, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to rigorously explore these questions at the University of Wisconsin - Madison!

Before I sign off for this week, I'm going to drift into potentially polarizing terrain:

"Motor deficits may be present even before communicative or social deficits." (Fournier, et al. Motor Coordination in Autism Spectrum Disorders: A Synthesis and Meta-Analysis, 2010). I'm very interested in the emerging evidence suggesting that the movement deficits of ASD predate the ASD diagnosis that's based on communication or social deficits. Put another way - the child that was completely normal before _____________ , may well have had ASD -related anomalies in their gait and/or eye tracking that existed well before the event that caused ASD.

That's all for this now - may your week be rewarding!

Stuff I Learned - Getting out of Bed

2017-09-17T20:45:00.002-05:00

In the first week of my Exercise Physiology course we studied how the circulatory system responds to changes in position, particularly in the transition from supine to standing. If you're anything like me, you may consider studying getting out of bed about as interesting as sodden cardboard. Interestingly, it turns out that this seemingly simple transition involves numerous adaptations that are unique to the human organism.

One of the problems with our human-ness involves rearing up on our hind legs. OK - so being a biped isn't necessarily a problem, though the vertical orientation creates some serious design challenges. Our brains are at the top of our vertical bodies, which means that gravity is constantly pulling blood away from our brains. Brains are very hungry consumers of blood (much like zombies are hungry consumers of brains) and if the brain doesn't get a sufficient blood supply, you will quickly pass out.

Buddy Cat has 70% of his blood above his heart. Like any quadruped, this means that getting blood to the brain isn't all that difficult - the blood is already above the heart and is pretty close to the brain. Humans, on the other hand, have 70% of their blood below their hearts. This means that our hearts have to work hard to pump the blood uphill into the brain.

When you move from supine to standing, you're at risk of game-over. What keeps us (mostly) from passing out when standing up? It's actually a series of adaptations that facilitates this seemingly simple transition.

Your rest and digest (parasympathetic) nervous system lowers your heart rate while you're resting. Upon standing, the parasympathetic nervous system stops lowering your heart rate, and your heart rate increases quite a bit in what's called parasympathetic withdrawal. For a few moments, your faster heart beat will help pump blood uphill to your brain.
Unfortunately, the heart can only pump what it receives, and when you first stand up most of the blood remains stuck in the floppy veins of the legs. Thankfully, your body has the capacity to "tighten" the veins (vasoconstriction) to help facilitate the flow of blood upward into the brain. Upon standing, vasoconstriction helps move the blood out of your legs and up into your torso.
In moving from supine to standing, you use muscles in your legs to accomplish that transition. The contracting muscles squeeze the veins, which further helps to push the blood upstream and into your brain.
The muscle pump is accompanied by the respiratory pump. (I wrote about the respiratory pump in an earlier blog posting.) When you inhale, the pressure in your thoracic cavity is reduced, which tends to pull blood uphill and into your heart. When you exhale, the pressure in your thoracic cavity increases, which tends to push the blood out of your heart. The respiratory pump also helps to improve circulation to the brain.
In your abdominal cavity, organs also help in this process of moving blood. For example, your liver is capable of storing a significant amount of blood volume. Related to the respiratory pump, when you breathe, blood that's stored in the liver is lifted upward into active circulation.

These are just a few of the adaptations that are unique to the human animal. I'm just getting back into the rhythm of the new school year, so I'll keep this first blog posting brief and to-the-point. I look forward to learning more and sharing more about this wondrous vehicle that we each inhabit.

'Til next week!

Skinny, Whole and Lo-Pro

2017-08-17T10:05:00.000-05:00

To extract the most from my body, I’ve turned to three dietary strategies that I believe support my fullest health and vitality. I maintain a busy schedule with grad-school, teaching and family/social commitments, and I have come to believe that Skinny, Whole and Lo-Pro help me to get more done.

Food and weight are inevitably topics that are strongly infused with emotion. In sharing my ideas and experiences, I hope that you take a few moments to reflect on the vital fuel that you ingest. Are the foods that you eat supporting your fullest expression of life? Or not? While these approaches have worked well for me, they may or may not work for others.

The organic garden at Crestone Mountain Zen Center.

Skinny, as the word implies, refers to my weight. I’ve long tracked the work of the various scientists that study Calorie Restricted (CR) diets. While some adherents take the idea to what I consider extremes, I believe that the emerging scientific evidence supports the health benefits of being skinny. What do I mean by skinny?

There are many ways that we can define skinny – rather than waving my hands in trying to describe skinny, I prefer to reference Body Mass Index (BMI) in this discussion. BMI describes the relationship of your height to your weight. It's not a perfect gauge of skinny/normal/overweight, though it can give you a pretty good sense of your relative proportions. A BMI of 18.5 to 25 is considered normal weight, while BMI below 18.5 is considered too-skinny, and a BMI over 25 is considered overweight. While some of the CR adherents believe in maintaining a BMI well below 18, I am of the opinion that there is such a thing as being too skinny. As a result, I’ve rather arbitrarily picked a BMI of 21 as my target weight. I think that being on the lower end of normal hedges my bets; I’m pretty skinny if it turns out that CR is really beneficial for health, and not so far out in the ozone if it turns out that CR works better for canines, rodents, and non-human primates than it does for humans!

At the very least, I feel much more energetic when I’m skinnier. As I mentioned in a previous blog posting, most of my body’s aches and pains have disappeared since losing the 40+ pounds that I’d put on since college. In no small measure, I think my capacity to keep up with colleagues that are half my age is related to carrying less weight around.

In addition to maintaining a lower BMI, I also focus on eating whole, unprocessed foods. Over twenty years ago I swore off packaged foods than contained artificial colors, flavors and preservatives, and almost immediately I felt much better. Recently I’ve gone a step further and now focus on eating foods that are closest to their natural state. I am a big believer in cooking food; other than cooking, I strive to alter food as little as possible in its transition from the soil to my belly. Here are some examples:

-I sprinkle freshly ground flax seeds on my salads in lieu of consuming flax oil (much cheaper, too!)

-I make smoothies at home out of whole fruit rather than purchasing pasteurized smoothies at the store (again, much cheaper!)

-A bowl of lightly steamed vegetables really doesn’t need dressing – a squeeze of lemon and a dash of salt helps bring out the food’s natural flavors

As an added bonus, when I eat the simplest and most whole foods, I need less food to maintain my chosen weight. I used to eat 2600+ calories/day to maintain my weight, and since shifting to even simpler foods, I am now maintaining my weight on significantly less than 2000 calories/day. Consuming less food equals lower grocery bills, which allows me the luxury of choosing higher quality foods to eat!

Lastly, I intentionally restrict the quantity of protein that I eat. Yes, you read that correctly – I am not a believer in high protein consumption. When people ask about my vegan diet, almost inevitably they’ll ask where do you get your protein? When I reply that I’m not really too concerned about beefing (sorry – bad reference) up my protein consumption, I get some pretty incredulous looks!

No doubt, protein is an essential nutrient that helps build tissues. I love to run and be physically active, so I’m interested in consuming enough quality protein. That being said, the scientific evidence consistently suggests that the average person should consume 0.8 grams of protein per kilogram of body mass. I weigh 83 kilograms, which translates into needing 66 grams of protein per day. Most food contains protein (yes, even many vegetables contain a surprising quantity of protein.) When I periodically track my food consumption, I inevitably find that without even trying, I’m easily consuming sufficient quantities of protein (generally 80+ grams of protein/day) Contrary to common belief, protein is not involved with providing energy in the way that fat and carbohydrate are. In addition, your kidneys have to work hard to process protein – why strain your kidneys by eating more protein than is needed?

My approach to food is a work in progress, though I’ve been really enjoying the past year of Skinny, Whole and Lo-Pro eating. As I embark on another busy academic year, I’ve come to believe that my approach to food is a significant contributor to my capacity to juggle home, work and school responsibilities at an age when the AARP is bugging me to join their ranks!

MVMT LAB, 7/25/17

2017-07-25T14:57:00.007-05:00

Thanks for all the requests for the Movement Lab sequences!

No promises - though I'm planning to post each week's Movement Lab sequence on the blog.

Like with natural resources: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle... please feel free to use this sequence in your practice and/or classes.

Cheers,

Scott

Movement Lab 7/25/17

Pilates Footwork
Fletcher Towel Work (to shoulder height)
Sumo Series
Fletcher Towel Work (overhead)
Sumo (with prior overhead Fletcher Towel Work)
Sun Salutations (focus on dog-pose arm rotation)
Side Angle
Sun Salutations (focus on dog-pose rotation/counter-rotation)
Side Angle (with belt overhead)
Sun Salutations
Knee Folds
Yoga Sit-Up
Pilates 100
Aerobic Sequence (repeat 3x)

Squats x10
Lateral hops x20

Arms overhead (hold for 10+ breaths) Drop arms and rest body and mind
Sun Salutation
Supine (on roller, placed longitudinally)

Arms up
Knee Folds
Contralateral arm/leg lifted
Bilateral Knee Folds

Rest (Savasana)

Your Neck and Yoga

2017-07-07T13:07:00.001-05:00

I find it hard to believe that nearly two months have passed since the 2016/17 academic year drew to a close. I am still pretty amazed by how much I learned in my first year in grad school, and I am eager to continue the learning process next year.

While all my courses ultimately proved to be interesting (and challenging), the highlight of this past academic year was Systems Neuroscience. As its name implies, Systems Neuroscience provided a comprehensive overview of the human nervous system. Even though the pace of the course was sometimes overwhelming, I was rapt by its content.

Yoga doesn't necessarily "cause strokes."
(Please be sure, however, to avoid
extreme flexion or extension of your neck.)

A significant aspect of the Systems Neuroscience curriculum was neuroanatomy. At the outset of the course, I expected that neuroanatomy would be one of the easier aspects of the course for me. I have long enjoyed studying anatomy and viewing the body 3-dimensionally, which interestingly enough, has become a hallmark of my yoga teaching. As a result, I came to consider my spatial sense to be well developed. As it turned out, neuroanatomy was far and away the most difficult part of the course for me!

Nonetheless, I worked with 3D computer renderings, flashcards and no small amount of hair-pulling to memorize the various vascular structures, brain regions, brainstem nuclei and neural circuitry that was presented in Systems Neuroscience.

As a yoga teacher, I found studying the vascular structures that supply the brain to be particularly interesting. I've long heard of arterial dissection as a potential cause of stroke in yoga practitioners, and now I feel like I have a better understanding of the vital blood supply to the brain.

As you can see in the adjacent diagram, an artery passes through the vertebrae. This artery has the logical name of Vertebral Artery, and is part of the sophisticated blood supply to the brain. As I've mentioned in a previous blog entry, any artery can be damaged by excessive movement. If you consider a wire coat hanger, the wire can be bent a nearly infinite number of times, as long as the bend isn't too great. If the coat hanger is repeatedly bent too far, however, the coat hanger will break.

The arteries aren't likely to break, though they can be damaged by delamination. Consider the adjacent image - the arteries are made up of concentric layers. These tissues are wonderfully robust, though the boundary layers between the layers can potentially be a site of damage. When the boundaries between the layers are damaged by overstretching, there's the potential for an arterial dissection (the proper name for what I'm calling delamination.) The arterial dissection, in turn, can lead to parts of the artery breaking loose... and finding their way upstream into the brain.

Arteries are made up of layers.

The upstream movement of debris is a big problem - ultimately the debris blocks a brain artery, and then that part of the brain is starved for oxygen. This is the essence of a stroke - damage to the brain that's caused by an interruption in blood flow.

For yoga practitioners, I believe that there are two primary points to keep in mind when making decisions about how and what to practice.

Firstly, avoid extreme flexion and extension of the neck. Because the vertebral artery passes through the vertebrae, extreme forward or backward bending can cause the bones to push too hard against the vertebral artery, which can cause damage. Here's what I consider the most important point: those that have loose joints (joint laxity) are capable of pushing their necks deeply into both flexion and extension, and as a result, may increase the risk of making neck movements that could damage the vertebral artery. If you are joint-lax, you'd be wise to limit your extreme movements of your neck.

Secondly, not all arteries are equally resistant to delamination. Those of us with joint-laxity are more likely to have compromised boundary-layer connections, and are at increased risk of arterial dissection. With joint laxity, it's like the glue that holds the various layers together is a little weaker, and the layers are at higher risk to separate. As a result, those of us with joint laxity are at increased risk of boundary layer damage in various tissues such as the skin, veins, arteries, gut, etc. Again, for those with joint-laxity, you need to mindfully resist the Siren's sweet songs that can lead you too deeply into poses.

In summary, arterial dissection is not urban myth - while not common, it does happen to some really nice people that love Yoga. If you have joint laxity (please see prior blogs for more discussion on joint laxity), you are at increased risk of the strokes that can arise from arterial dissection. No need to stop practicing Yoga - simply consider reducing how deeply you move into all your poses. And if nothing else, please be sure not to flex or extend your neck too far!

Movement Lab - 6/6/17

2017-06-07T09:06:00.000-05:00

Per request, I'm posting the sequence that we explored in yesterday morning's Movement Lab.

The focus was on releasing the humerus from its scapula. Often these two are glued together, and many common cues reinforce this ineffective patterning. For example, a common cue to open the chest is to rotate the arms such that the palms face forward. No doubt this cue can help place the shoulder-blades against the back, though the mechanism that this cue uses to place the shoulder-blades does not translate to functional, daily-life movement.

Rather than defaulting into an ineffective movement pattern (using the arms to place the shoulder blades) in order to release another ineffective movement pattern (shoulders rounded forward), we focused on placing the shoulder blades independently of what the arms are doing, and then using the shoulder blades to support the arms. The goal was to cultivate the movement patterns that support improved posture during daily-life activities.

Making sense? If not, please let me know.

Here's what we did:

Supine – explore how arms can rotate either from forearm or from the shoulder socket

Prone Mountain – practice rotating arms from shoulder

Locust – practicing above, and adding contralateral coordination (swimming-like)

Rocking Chair

Roll Like a Boat

Teaser

Can-Can

Squats/Chair repeats

Contralateral Psoas Walk

New-School Side Angle

Foam Roller – stabilization

Foam Roller – lift arms

Foam Roller – lift legs

Foam Roller – contralateral lifts

Push-Ups

Crab Walk

Dog Pose

Rest

Last Night's Class

2017-06-01T18:41:00.005-05:00

Last night's class seemed to be well-received. Following a theme of back-health, below is the sequence that we explored.

Intermediate Class

5/31/17

Focus: Back Health

Hamstring Wake-Up (in prone mountain)

Locust Pose (focus on hamstrings)

Knee Folds

Shoulder Reset

Dead Bug Cycle

Locust Pose (contralateral form)

Sumo Cycle

Warrior II (focus on hamstrings)

Side Angle (New School form)

Sun Salutations x5

Frog at Wall (quad stretch)

Downward Dog Pose

Supine Leg Stretch

Child’s Pose (supine or prone)

Pranayama (microcosmic orbit)

Rest

Movement Lab

2017-05-30T11:55:00.001-05:00

This morning's Movement Lab garnered lots of positive feedback, and I'm happy to share the sequence that we explored.

For those of you who are not familiar with Movement Lab, it's a class that's based on my expanding knowledge of the body, the

Movement Lab does not involve cats, though I didn't want to post
two consecutive blog entries without a photo.

mind and their intersection. Movement Lab integrates what I consider the best-of mindful approaches to Pilates, Western fitness and Yoga.

I hope that you can join me on a Tuesday morning for Movement Lab this Summer. The class is getting bigger almost every week, and it's been fun to watch people apply their Yogic fundamentals to a wider repertoire of movements.

Movement Lab

05/30/17

Pilates Mat

Knee Folds

Leg Circles

Roll Down

Rolling Like a Boat

100-prep

Fointing

Lunges

Squats

Push-Ups

Foam Roller

Stabilization

Lift legs

Lift arms

Contralateral

Ring (arms)

Squeeze

Shoulder flexion

100-prep

Yoga

Seated Twist (arm internal rotation)

Stretch of the West

My neighbor, Oscar

2017-05-30T08:10:00.001-05:00

As many of you know, my home base is the Village of Blue Mounds, Wisconsin. For those of you that have not made the trip to Blue Mounds, the village meets the criteria of blink-you-missed-it. Blue Mounds is very small, though as small communities frequently assert, it has a big heart. I've been headquartered in Blue Mounds for almost 25-years, now, and have found the land and its people a steadying and supportive environment.

One of my neighbors is Oscar. I don't know many details about Oscar's life, though I do know that he's a hard worker, a retired mason and a WWII veteran. I also know that we share the same birthday (November 1st)

Oscar's birthday is exactly 40-years prior to mine, which means that he's pretty old. I haven't seen much of Oscar over the past few months, though I'd heard through the neighborhood grapevine that he'd taken ill. Yesterday morning as I was heading out for a run, I caught sight of Oscar lugging his trash cans back from the curb. I was relieved to see him, and immediately went over to visit.

As it turned out, the neighborhood rumors were true - Oscar had recently been diagnosed with congestive heart failure and lung cancer. Neither diagnosis is very promising, and Oscar estimated that he had 2-6 months to live.

We shared a long, quiet moment as the fullness of that prognosis settled in. The gap wasn't awkward in any way, but a momentary release from the linear time-scale that we often find ourselves whisked along. The gap at the end of the exhale had expanded to include the two of us, the village, and the unspoken vastness that hung in the air. It was a spacious and magical moment.

As quickly as the moment arose, it vanished into one of Oscar's jokes. Oscar is famous (notorious?) for his jokes. For all the years that we know each other, Oscar consistently shared two jokes with me each time that our paths crossed. Sometimes they'd be real groaners, and sometimes I'd find myself laughing out loud. I'm not sure where he picked these jokes up, though I'd always appreciated their homespun humor.

In the slipstream of the moment that we had just shared, Oscar looked me in the eye and requested one thing - that I share that day's jokes with others. Jokes, Oscar told me, were to be shared - to bring a smile to those that you told them to.

In honor of Oscar, and all that he represents to me: neighborliness, service to country, grounded work ethic, and kindness... I'd like to share one of the day's jokes:

The queen was showing the bishop her stable of beautiful horses. As the queen and the bishop passed one of the horses, the horse let out a giant fart. The queen apologized profusely to the bishop, to which the bishop responded, and here I thought that it was the horse that farted!

Cultivating the Conditions of Productivity

2017-05-22T10:05:00.005-05:00

Simple foods = the best foods for me. Steel cut oats, fruit,
ground flax seeds, salt and cinnamon. Plant Power!

Today feels like the first day of Summer break, and I'm alternately excited and apprehensive to behold the relatively unstructured days that are ahead. This past academic year, the days were carefully assembled to reduce interstitial-time inefficiencies, and I'm pleased to report that I largely kept up with schoolwork, maintained my commitment to practicing the Dharma, and stayed pretty physically fit. Whew! Now a new relationship to time is unfolding in front of me, and I'm eager to feel this new time-relationship in my body/mind

This morning felt like the first day of the new chapter, and it sure has gotten off to a great start. After a cup of quasi-Bulletproof coffee (espresso, chia seeds and coconut oil), I donned my FiveFingers for a run in the UW Arboretum. Today's training agenda was LSD (long, slow distance), though the first step was to set a compassionate motivation.

I strive to begin my workouts with the aspiration that my activity benefits me personally (as fitness activities assuredly do), and perhaps more importantly, to also include the wish that the workout helps me to be a kinder, more patient person - the wish that this morning's run be of benefit to others in addition to myself.

With the setting of compassionate motivation, I set off into the forested trails of the Arb. During the run I alternated among object meditations (sound and physical sensations, primarily), and resting my mind in objectless meditation. After 9+ miles, hunger was starting to become a motivating force (thanks to Systems Neuroscience, I now know that signals from my paraventricular hypothalamus and the nucleus accumbens were involved!)

Setting a course back home, I ran into my good friend Jonathan and The Mighty Taz in Vilas Park. What a nice surprise - to bump into a friend and his high-energy dog! After a brief visit, we went our separate ways to embark on our week's activities.

By now I was definitely feeling appetitive drive, and I walked into the house to find that the slow-cooked steel-cut oats were ready for consumption. I find that simple foods work the best for my system, and enjoyed a satisfying five-ingredient breakfast.

A quick shower, and now it's time to write. The academic paper that I'll work on this morning is a review of the current research on Joint Laxity, and I'm eager to buckle down and make some progress. I'm going to sign off, now, and head to campus.

Have a great start to the week, and hopefully our paths will cross sooner than later!