The instruction to scoop or lengthen one's tailbone is a very common, if not ubiquitous, instruction in yoga classes. Mountain pose: tail down. Tree pose: tail down. Warrior: tail down. This same basic cue holds true even if you change your spatial orientation: if you lie on your belly, you are told to lengthen your tail back towards the heels; if you are upside down, you are told to lengthen the tail up towards the ceiling; the list goes on. While I do not disagree with this instruction fundamentally, my personal experience and observation have led me to conclude that, more often than not, it does not work as intended.
I think the instruction generally intends to activate the practitioner's core and provide him/her with much needed support against the combination of gravity (compression) and movement (tension). After all, practicing yoga asanas is core training because it asks us to find our core line (or integrity if you will) in different orientations with gravity. That core stability line, or Deep Front Line in the language of Tom Myers' Anatomy Trains, is our myofascial axial core, which also supports the organ body, or viscera. It's the line that asks us to connect with the internal surfaces of the body and initiate from there. More on this in a moment.
The instruction to scoop one's tail bone is problematic on a number of levels. If what I said in the previous paragraph is true, then our core line can also be seen as our 'lift' line: the intricate chain that lifts us out of the force of gravity, which works 24/7. So, we work to keep the arches lifted, we activate the inner thighs and lift them up towards the core of the pelvis, we lift the pelvic floor, we lift the low belly, we reach up through the crown of the head... This begs the question: why, then, would you want to scoop or draw your tail down? Moreover, this instruction leads most of us to initiate from the back surface of the sacral/tail area, the surface that can be felt under the skin and which has no connection to our core line of support. On a deeper level, doesn't scooping your tailbone whiff of fear? But I'll leave that to someone else to explore...
Further, the instruction to scoop the tail or draw it towards the heels (or worse, draw it down and forward), more often than not, leads to a number of unintended consequences some which are: an over-tucked (and therefore unbalanced) pelvis, thigh bones that push forward into the hip sockets, and a taxed/flattened low back. Further, very enthusiastic tail scooping can lead to a gripping rectus abdominis (your six-pack), which will then have no choice but the pull your abdominal organs forward and down, taking your ribcage down in the process. In essence, tail-scooping becomes an accessory to gravity's mission of pulling you down.
Going even deeper, the core line of the body is the line of the inner surfaces. Various connections in this line create a web of amazing support among key inner walls and surfaces in the body: pelvic (pubic, sit, and ilium) bones, the tail, the sacrum, the spine, the navel, the sternum, and the throat. So, for example, the front surface of the spine is its inner surface, the surface that faces your organs; the inner surface of the sternum is the surface that faces inward towards your heart and lungs. From that point of view, the inner surface of your tail is that surface that looks forward into your pelvic floor and towards the inner surface of your pubic bones. Fun, right? Do you feel like a (yellow) submarine on a fascinating adventure deep below the surface level?
Jokes aside, I have found it more helpful of engaging my core by thinking of creating a lift from the inner surface of the tail bone (the base of the spine) all the way up the whole frontal surface of the spine. This has kept me from the unintended consequences of tail scooping mentioned above and has allowed me to feel the connection between seemingly disparate parts of my body such as the inner surface of my navel and my breastbone and the inner surface of my low back. In short, it has allowed me to feel (in) my center. For that, I needed to go beyond the superficial downward pull of the top surface of the tailbone. Have fun with up front in the back and I would love to hear about your experience!
Monday, March 25, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Why (Healthy) Yoga Backbends Are Easier Said than Done
The short answer to this question is that, from an anatomically functional point of view, yoga backbends are counter-intuitive. How so?
When we are in utero, our entire spine is in flexion, that is, it has a convex shape, as in child's pose (balasana). This is known as the primary curve. As we are born and begin to learn to hold the head up and look around, our necks develop a concave, inward, curve, as do our low backs as we begin to crawl, stand and walk. Thus, the cervical (neck) and low back (lumbar) spinal curves are known as secondary, that is, they develop post-birth. The thoracic (upper back) curve and the convex shape of the sacrum are primary, that is, they develop and are present prior to birth.
In terms of movement, the primary and secondary curves interact in a reciprocal relationship per Kaminoff and Matthews (2012): the more you decrease or increase one, the more the other wants to do the opposite. So, if I increase my upper back curve (like a cat), for example, my lumbar and cervical curves will decrease, that is, they will flatten or round. Reversely, if I decreased my upper back curve by lifting my chest, for example, my lumbar and cervical curves will increase, that is, they will deepen and arch more. This is true regardless of where I choose to initiate the movement from: if I increase one of my primary curves, the secondary curves will decrease; if I reduce one of my primary curves, the secondary curves will increase.
Anyone who has been to a few yoga classes knows that when we do yoga backbends, we want to "bend" from the upper back while lengthening the low back and keeping it from over-arching (hyper-extending). Based on what I said in the previous paragraph, this might seem counter-intuitive, and you will be correct.
Going a bit deeper with this, in an intuitive backbend, if you lifted and spread your front chest--broadening the collarbones, lifting the sternum, externally rotating the upper arms, and contracting your upper back/shoulderblade muscles--and you didn't do anything else, your low back will then arch to the best of its ability, the front of your pelvis will widen and disengage in a sense, the back of your pelvis will contract or over-engage if you will, your legs and knees will turn out and you will end up with Charlie Chaplin feet, which, whether you feel it or not, creates enormous compression in your low back, especially in a backbend. This is true regardless of how much flexibility/fluidity you have in your spine. If someone doesn't tell you to turn your legs in and you don't train yourself to do it on a consistent and mindful basis, you will invariably end up with Charlie Chaplin feet and a crunched low back. In essence, in an intuitive backbend, the opening of the shoulder girdle in the front will create a corresponding opening of the pelvic girdle in the front.
In a yoga backbend, we would be wise to backbend counter-intuitively. That is, if/as/before you lifted and spread your front chest, you would be wise to align your legs and pelvic girdle in the opposite direction, that is, the back of the pelvis broadens and widens, while the front of the pelvis engages and lifts up to facilitate further opening of the chest above it. In very schematic and broad terms, in a yoga backbend, we want the shoulder girdle to open from the front and contract in the back with the corresponding external rotation of the upper arms; conversely, we want to the back of the pelvic girdle to widen and broaden while the front of the pelvis engages like a drawstring in the front, which draws the hips points towards each other, coupled with a zipping action from the pubic area on up the front of the torso.
Going even a bit deeper with this, I would like to talk about the breath, because what kind of yoga are we doing if we are not breathing mindfully and coordinately with our movement. When we inhale, the diaphragm moves down, the ribs expand, the lungs fill with air and turn in, the hip points in the front gently (imperceptibly) turn in towards each other, and the low back and sacrum regions spread. (As a caveat, from that point of view, the cue to lengthen the spine on an inhale, often used in yoga classes, doesn't make much sense.) When we exhale, the opposite happens: the diaphragm lifts, the ribs draw in, the lungs turn out, the whole spine elongates, the chest lifts, and the arms turn out. This I learned from Jenny Otto a few years back.
So, to practice an optimal yoga backbend, we broadly need to create an inhale quality in the low back and sacral areas, while creating an exhale quality in the upper back/chest area. Ironically perhaps, in order to do that, we need to keep the diaphragm lifted on the inhale (so that it doesn't push down into the abdominal cavity and distend the belly), which will expand the ribcage laterally/sideways. On the exhale, though, we still need to exhale as if we expanded the belly on the inhale, and draw the belly in and up even further. And all this without clenching your teeth and bulging your eyes for example. Have fun and good luck! Healthy yoga backbends are easier said than done, but they are worth it, even if a bit overrated :).
When we are in utero, our entire spine is in flexion, that is, it has a convex shape, as in child's pose (balasana). This is known as the primary curve. As we are born and begin to learn to hold the head up and look around, our necks develop a concave, inward, curve, as do our low backs as we begin to crawl, stand and walk. Thus, the cervical (neck) and low back (lumbar) spinal curves are known as secondary, that is, they develop post-birth. The thoracic (upper back) curve and the convex shape of the sacrum are primary, that is, they develop and are present prior to birth.
In terms of movement, the primary and secondary curves interact in a reciprocal relationship per Kaminoff and Matthews (2012): the more you decrease or increase one, the more the other wants to do the opposite. So, if I increase my upper back curve (like a cat), for example, my lumbar and cervical curves will decrease, that is, they will flatten or round. Reversely, if I decreased my upper back curve by lifting my chest, for example, my lumbar and cervical curves will increase, that is, they will deepen and arch more. This is true regardless of where I choose to initiate the movement from: if I increase one of my primary curves, the secondary curves will decrease; if I reduce one of my primary curves, the secondary curves will increase.
Anyone who has been to a few yoga classes knows that when we do yoga backbends, we want to "bend" from the upper back while lengthening the low back and keeping it from over-arching (hyper-extending). Based on what I said in the previous paragraph, this might seem counter-intuitive, and you will be correct.
Going a bit deeper with this, in an intuitive backbend, if you lifted and spread your front chest--broadening the collarbones, lifting the sternum, externally rotating the upper arms, and contracting your upper back/shoulderblade muscles--and you didn't do anything else, your low back will then arch to the best of its ability, the front of your pelvis will widen and disengage in a sense, the back of your pelvis will contract or over-engage if you will, your legs and knees will turn out and you will end up with Charlie Chaplin feet, which, whether you feel it or not, creates enormous compression in your low back, especially in a backbend. This is true regardless of how much flexibility/fluidity you have in your spine. If someone doesn't tell you to turn your legs in and you don't train yourself to do it on a consistent and mindful basis, you will invariably end up with Charlie Chaplin feet and a crunched low back. In essence, in an intuitive backbend, the opening of the shoulder girdle in the front will create a corresponding opening of the pelvic girdle in the front.
In a yoga backbend, we would be wise to backbend counter-intuitively. That is, if/as/before you lifted and spread your front chest, you would be wise to align your legs and pelvic girdle in the opposite direction, that is, the back of the pelvis broadens and widens, while the front of the pelvis engages and lifts up to facilitate further opening of the chest above it. In very schematic and broad terms, in a yoga backbend, we want the shoulder girdle to open from the front and contract in the back with the corresponding external rotation of the upper arms; conversely, we want to the back of the pelvic girdle to widen and broaden while the front of the pelvis engages like a drawstring in the front, which draws the hips points towards each other, coupled with a zipping action from the pubic area on up the front of the torso.
Going even a bit deeper with this, I would like to talk about the breath, because what kind of yoga are we doing if we are not breathing mindfully and coordinately with our movement. When we inhale, the diaphragm moves down, the ribs expand, the lungs fill with air and turn in, the hip points in the front gently (imperceptibly) turn in towards each other, and the low back and sacrum regions spread. (As a caveat, from that point of view, the cue to lengthen the spine on an inhale, often used in yoga classes, doesn't make much sense.) When we exhale, the opposite happens: the diaphragm lifts, the ribs draw in, the lungs turn out, the whole spine elongates, the chest lifts, and the arms turn out. This I learned from Jenny Otto a few years back.
So, to practice an optimal yoga backbend, we broadly need to create an inhale quality in the low back and sacral areas, while creating an exhale quality in the upper back/chest area. Ironically perhaps, in order to do that, we need to keep the diaphragm lifted on the inhale (so that it doesn't push down into the abdominal cavity and distend the belly), which will expand the ribcage laterally/sideways. On the exhale, though, we still need to exhale as if we expanded the belly on the inhale, and draw the belly in and up even further. And all this without clenching your teeth and bulging your eyes for example. Have fun and good luck! Healthy yoga backbends are easier said than done, but they are worth it, even if a bit overrated :).
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Of Fascia and Fascism
I was reading an article on the Ara Pacis (Altar of Peace) in Rome, Italy, which became a symbol of Ancient Rome's Pax Romana or Golden Age in the first two hundred years A.D. In it, the author was describing how a lictor, or ceremonial bodyguard, was carrying the fasces, a bundle of sticks or rods, symbolizing how unity brings strength. Fasces is derived from the Latin word for "bundle" and "band." Here is how the original fasces looked like:
So fasces is the whole ensemble of the rods and the axe tied together by the band and the (red) band itself, which holds the separate parts together and gives them their unity and strength.
Fasces is where the word fascism comes from and Mussolini used the representation above as his party's symbol. Fascism is hard to define, not least because the word is so loaded in our everyday vocabulary and because it is often lumped with other authoritarian and totalitarian doctrines. That's not what I am concerned with here. I am mostly concerned with how language connects seemingly disparate or unrelated concepts through words and makes us think and explore our preconceptions and views. When I went to the etymology dictionary to check out fasces, the next two entries were fascist and fascia! So, these are at least etymologically related since they share the same origin--the fasces--discussed until now. This made me think and ask myself funny questions such as "Is fascia fascist? and "Is fascism fascial?"
Benito Mussolini chose this term and symbol deliberately. His philosophy rejected individualism (and liberalism) and glorified the state as all-embracing and above anything else. The individual was considered worthless and dispensable, collectivism was king. In "The Doctrine of Fascism" ("La dottrina del fascismo"), an essay attributed at least in part to Mussolini, the author states: "The fascist conception of the state is all-embracing; outside of it no human or spiritual values can exist, much less have value. Thus understood, ... the fascist state—a synthesis and a unit inclusive of all values—interprets, develops, and potentiates the whole life of a people."
What about fascia? Fascia was originally an architectural term and its anatomical use dates back to 1788. It also etymologically derives from fasces and means band, bandage, swathe. Fascia is the body's connective tissue and it is biochemically a colloid (as is Jell-O), in essence a suspension compound. It surrounds everything in the body: starting at the tiny cellular level to muscles, bundles of muscles, organs, bundles of organs, nerves, etc. As Jenny Otto once aptly said: "Imagine fascia as a whole body pantyhose." Fascia is fascinating because is provides an endless continuum for all tissue in the body and an infinite potential for movement. Here's a very short video which shows you how living fascia looks like. Fascia allows movement and at the same time preserves the integrity of bodily structures and lets them slide and glide. It acts as a buffer, an insulation and suspension mechanism, and literally gives us our shape posturally and functionally (in movement). Fascia remodels itself all the time and responds to how we use, misuse, or simply not use our body; fascia also responds to manipulation. See the the Fuzz Speech by the one and only Gil Hedley in defense of movement.
So can we describe fascism in terms of fascia? I think so... Fascism is the all-pervasive binding that connects society into a unitary collective, where every part of that collective is bound to the next and every other member by the structural integrity of the state, working together towards its resolution/perpetuation/goal. Whether that purpose is good or bad is beside the point.
Can we describe fascia in terms of fascism? I think so... The fascist/fascial conception of the body is all-embracing; outside of it, no organ, muscle, bone, or cell can exist, much less have any meaning or individual existence. Thus understood, the fascist/fascial body--a synthesis and a unit inclusive of all function and movement--interprets, develops, and potentiates the whole life of its parts."
Fascinating, n'est-ce pas?
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| Fasces from http://www.squidoo.com/mercurydime. |
Fasces is where the word fascism comes from and Mussolini used the representation above as his party's symbol. Fascism is hard to define, not least because the word is so loaded in our everyday vocabulary and because it is often lumped with other authoritarian and totalitarian doctrines. That's not what I am concerned with here. I am mostly concerned with how language connects seemingly disparate or unrelated concepts through words and makes us think and explore our preconceptions and views. When I went to the etymology dictionary to check out fasces, the next two entries were fascist and fascia! So, these are at least etymologically related since they share the same origin--the fasces--discussed until now. This made me think and ask myself funny questions such as "Is fascia fascist? and "Is fascism fascial?"
Benito Mussolini chose this term and symbol deliberately. His philosophy rejected individualism (and liberalism) and glorified the state as all-embracing and above anything else. The individual was considered worthless and dispensable, collectivism was king. In "The Doctrine of Fascism" ("La dottrina del fascismo"), an essay attributed at least in part to Mussolini, the author states: "The fascist conception of the state is all-embracing; outside of it no human or spiritual values can exist, much less have value. Thus understood, ... the fascist state—a synthesis and a unit inclusive of all values—interprets, develops, and potentiates the whole life of a people."
What about fascia? Fascia was originally an architectural term and its anatomical use dates back to 1788. It also etymologically derives from fasces and means band, bandage, swathe. Fascia is the body's connective tissue and it is biochemically a colloid (as is Jell-O), in essence a suspension compound. It surrounds everything in the body: starting at the tiny cellular level to muscles, bundles of muscles, organs, bundles of organs, nerves, etc. As Jenny Otto once aptly said: "Imagine fascia as a whole body pantyhose." Fascia is fascinating because is provides an endless continuum for all tissue in the body and an infinite potential for movement. Here's a very short video which shows you how living fascia looks like. Fascia allows movement and at the same time preserves the integrity of bodily structures and lets them slide and glide. It acts as a buffer, an insulation and suspension mechanism, and literally gives us our shape posturally and functionally (in movement). Fascia remodels itself all the time and responds to how we use, misuse, or simply not use our body; fascia also responds to manipulation. See the the Fuzz Speech by the one and only Gil Hedley in defense of movement.
So can we describe fascism in terms of fascia? I think so... Fascism is the all-pervasive binding that connects society into a unitary collective, where every part of that collective is bound to the next and every other member by the structural integrity of the state, working together towards its resolution/perpetuation/goal. Whether that purpose is good or bad is beside the point.
Can we describe fascia in terms of fascism? I think so... The fascist/fascial conception of the body is all-embracing; outside of it, no organ, muscle, bone, or cell can exist, much less have any meaning or individual existence. Thus understood, the fascist/fascial body--a synthesis and a unit inclusive of all function and movement--interprets, develops, and potentiates the whole life of its parts."
Fascinating, n'est-ce pas?
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Smile with Your Neck and Soften Your Gaze
Let's face it: our modern lifestyle is quite abusive to our necks. According to one article I found in Science Daily, about 20 percent of the population suffers from chronic neck pain. This is due to a number of reasons, with some of the most obvious being driving, sitting (especially in front of a computer), and staring into handheld small-screen devices (often while walking), to name a few. To pick on the latter, which particularly irks me, you have a person, completely disconnected from their surroundings, walking poorly and without regard, with their head down and forward of the rest of the body, and their eyes straining to see and follow what is on the tiny screen. Below is a photo of what I call 'smartphone walking.'
In these and other everyday situations, we often assume a slumped forward-head posture due to lifestyle, postural and emotional habits, or mere laziness. Here is schematically how it looks:
Are you already trying to figure out how to sit or stand better?
This postural pattern simultaneously overstretches and weakens some parts of the back (i.e. the muscles get locked long; for example, the muscles between your shoulder blades), and tightens and weakens other parts of the back (i.e. muscles locked short; for example, the back of your neck, the tops of your shoulders). For every inch your head is forward of the rest of your body, the neck has 10 more lbs to weight bear!). The back body is also known as the Superficial Back Line (SBL) in the language of Tom Myers' Anatomy Trains. The SBL runs from the soles of your feet, up the back of the body, goes over your head like a hoodie and stops just above the brow line. Anatomically speaking, it is the line the makes us characteristically human, i.e. bipeds, that is, it keeps us erect and prevents us from curling into involuntary flexion or fetal position.
For the purposes of this post, I will concentrate on three muscles, which are not all part of the SBL, but all coincidentally start with the letter S: the sternocleidomastoid (SCM) (Fig. 3), the scalenes (Fig. 4), and the suboccipitals (Fig. 5). The SCM is part of both the lateral and the front lines of the body, the scalenes are part of the deep front line (which I discussed here in relation to the tongue) and are the second most important breathing muscles after the diaphragm (also part of the core line), and the suboccipitals are part of the superficial back line I mentioned above, often considered the functional fulcrum of that line and the key to unlocking tension anywhere along this line (including these tight hamstrings, which leave you feeling hamstrung in yoga class or while you are trying to tie your shoe laces).
But before I address these muscles and how you can smile with your neck and with your eyes, I would like to make sure that we are all on the same page. Forward head posture and neck strain do not begin in the neck. I am generalizing but slumping when sitting (the preferred way to sit) and the resulting collapse in the pelvis is where it all begins and travels up. That is, you are not sitting on the fronts of your sit-bones (sometimes called the "feet of the pelvis") but way behind them. I'll get back to this in a moment.
So, when this happens and we end up in some variation of Fig. 2, the SCM and the scalenes have no choice but to pull the head forward and become very tight and overused, while the deep neck flexors (the muscles running along the front of your cervical/neck spine) will be weak and unused. The deep neck flexors (Fig. 6) are your headstand muscles and the muscles that work to prevent hyper-extension of the neck (crunching/tightness in the back of the neck). When engaged, it will feel like you are getting an inch taller.
At the same time, the compromised position of your pelvis coupled with your need to look forward (to drive, to look at a computer screen, or to look up hastily from your smartphone screen and try to avoid ramming yourself into a streetlight, for example) will cause the suboccipitals to mightily contract (hyper-extending the neck just below the skull). When you do this repeatedly and/or for long periods of time, you end up with tension at the base of your skull, headaches, and neck pain. Moreover, the suboccipitals have a primal connection through your brain to your eyes (and your jaw and inner ear), such that any movement you make with your eyes brings a corresponding movement/reaction in the suboccipitals and along the muscles that traverse your spine and keep you upright. You can now see how having a hard fixed gaze (into a computer screen or at an annoying colleague or relative) can lead to neck strain and pain. Doug Keller calls the suboccipitals the bobble-head muscles.
So, what can be done? You can bring a smile to your eyes and soften your serious gaze to moisten and relax the suboccipitals and then smile with your neck to soften the sides of the neck (SCM and scalenes), so that the front of the throat goes up and back (that is, the deep neck flexors have a chance at awakening and doing their job).
Here it goes:
Take a blanket and fold it in 2 or 3 and place it at a wall. Sit on the blanket (or blankets if you need more) in an easy cross-legged position with your back against the wall such that your hips are higher than your knees (throughout this practice, the back of your pelvis and the backs of your shoulders around the blades will be the touch points with the wall). When this is the case, you will be able to find and sit on your sit-bones and have a neutral pelvis (not tipping too far forward, nor too far back). The standard metaphor is to imagine your pelvis as a bowl full of water and you are trying not to spill the water. As you root your sit-bones into the blankets, think of lengthening the space between the top of your pelvis and the floating ribs. Use the wall for support and gently press the backs of your shoulders into the wall, and release the tops of your shoulders downwards like a drape dress, taking care not to pull your arms down. Lift the low belly up, but leave the groins heavy. (If you feel like your low front ribs are poking forward, soften them towards the back body and see if you can balance this action with keeping your pelvis neutral.) Close your eyes and turn your inner gaze down towards your lungs and your heart. Ever so slightly, bow your forehead towards your chest and gently lift the top of your chest towards your chin. Pay attention and see if that releases any amount of tension from the base of the skull and whether you feel a gentle lengthening there. That's your suboccipitals getting a break. Then, balance the rooting down through the sit-bones with an elongation from the base of the spine all the way up through the crown of the head (which will awaken the deep neck flexors). Keeping all that, take your index fingers to the front of your neck just above the Adam's apple and draw them out to the sides and up towards the tips of the earlobes, and see if you can literally create this gentle shift with the sides of your neck, so that the SCM and the scalenes move back towards the wall and slightly up, lifting the top of your chest. Voila! You have just smiled with your neck! Then, softly open your eyes, keeping the sides of the neck going back towards the wall, and gently slightly lift your head to look straight ahead at the horizon (that would mean not leading with your chin, which will lead to your head falling back on your spine).
The idea of neck smiling came courtesy of Doug Keller. Ultimately, the practice above aims to stack your pelvis, ribcage, and head on top of each other (or move you in that direction) so that you sit more in your gravity line. This is definitely easier said than done, so proceed with mindfulness and inquiry.
You can also bring this into your everyday. Simply, anytime you remember, soften your gaze and mentally bring a smile to your eyes. Then, gently tilt the chin down towards your chest, take the top throat back and up and smile with your neck. Then, just smile!
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| Fig. 1: image from SF Gate; accessed at http://www.sfgate.com/business/article/Even-walking-while-texting-can-be-hazardous-3181695.php |
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| Fig 2: image from Optimum Sports Performance; accessed at http://optimumsportsperformance.com/blog/?p=1307 |
Are you already trying to figure out how to sit or stand better?
This postural pattern simultaneously overstretches and weakens some parts of the back (i.e. the muscles get locked long; for example, the muscles between your shoulder blades), and tightens and weakens other parts of the back (i.e. muscles locked short; for example, the back of your neck, the tops of your shoulders). For every inch your head is forward of the rest of your body, the neck has 10 more lbs to weight bear!). The back body is also known as the Superficial Back Line (SBL) in the language of Tom Myers' Anatomy Trains. The SBL runs from the soles of your feet, up the back of the body, goes over your head like a hoodie and stops just above the brow line. Anatomically speaking, it is the line the makes us characteristically human, i.e. bipeds, that is, it keeps us erect and prevents us from curling into involuntary flexion or fetal position.
 | ||
| Fig. 4: Scalenes from the back, http://www.sciencephoto.com/media/480396/view |
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| Fig. 3: SCM from from the side http://www.sciencephoto.com/media/196330/view |
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| Fig 5: Suboccipitals, http://www.sciencephoto.com/media/480365/view |
So, when this happens and we end up in some variation of Fig. 2, the SCM and the scalenes have no choice but to pull the head forward and become very tight and overused, while the deep neck flexors (the muscles running along the front of your cervical/neck spine) will be weak and unused. The deep neck flexors (Fig. 6) are your headstand muscles and the muscles that work to prevent hyper-extension of the neck (crunching/tightness in the back of the neck). When engaged, it will feel like you are getting an inch taller.
 |
| Fig 6: Deep neck flexors (middle front), http://www.sciencephoto.com/media/480358/view |
So, what can be done? You can bring a smile to your eyes and soften your serious gaze to moisten and relax the suboccipitals and then smile with your neck to soften the sides of the neck (SCM and scalenes), so that the front of the throat goes up and back (that is, the deep neck flexors have a chance at awakening and doing their job).
Here it goes:
Take a blanket and fold it in 2 or 3 and place it at a wall. Sit on the blanket (or blankets if you need more) in an easy cross-legged position with your back against the wall such that your hips are higher than your knees (throughout this practice, the back of your pelvis and the backs of your shoulders around the blades will be the touch points with the wall). When this is the case, you will be able to find and sit on your sit-bones and have a neutral pelvis (not tipping too far forward, nor too far back). The standard metaphor is to imagine your pelvis as a bowl full of water and you are trying not to spill the water. As you root your sit-bones into the blankets, think of lengthening the space between the top of your pelvis and the floating ribs. Use the wall for support and gently press the backs of your shoulders into the wall, and release the tops of your shoulders downwards like a drape dress, taking care not to pull your arms down. Lift the low belly up, but leave the groins heavy. (If you feel like your low front ribs are poking forward, soften them towards the back body and see if you can balance this action with keeping your pelvis neutral.) Close your eyes and turn your inner gaze down towards your lungs and your heart. Ever so slightly, bow your forehead towards your chest and gently lift the top of your chest towards your chin. Pay attention and see if that releases any amount of tension from the base of the skull and whether you feel a gentle lengthening there. That's your suboccipitals getting a break. Then, balance the rooting down through the sit-bones with an elongation from the base of the spine all the way up through the crown of the head (which will awaken the deep neck flexors). Keeping all that, take your index fingers to the front of your neck just above the Adam's apple and draw them out to the sides and up towards the tips of the earlobes, and see if you can literally create this gentle shift with the sides of your neck, so that the SCM and the scalenes move back towards the wall and slightly up, lifting the top of your chest. Voila! You have just smiled with your neck! Then, softly open your eyes, keeping the sides of the neck going back towards the wall, and gently slightly lift your head to look straight ahead at the horizon (that would mean not leading with your chin, which will lead to your head falling back on your spine).
The idea of neck smiling came courtesy of Doug Keller. Ultimately, the practice above aims to stack your pelvis, ribcage, and head on top of each other (or move you in that direction) so that you sit more in your gravity line. This is definitely easier said than done, so proceed with mindfulness and inquiry.
You can also bring this into your everyday. Simply, anytime you remember, soften your gaze and mentally bring a smile to your eyes. Then, gently tilt the chin down towards your chest, take the top throat back and up and smile with your neck. Then, just smile!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
What Does Your Tongue Have to Do with Your Posture?
The tongue is a fascinating muscular organ with a myriad of functions and purposes. It is a voluntary, sphincter-like muscle, which is vital for chewing and swallowing food, speech, and taste. Of course, as we all know, it is also instrumental in creating pleasure and having fun. In the back of the mouth, the tongue is anchored into the hyoid bone.
In many yoga classes during centering and sometimes even while doing yoga postures, or asanas, you might be instructed to let the tongue float, release the tip of the tongue away from the roof of the mouth or from pressing into the back of the teeth, and soften and relax both the tip and root of the tongue. Once you do that, the upper and lower teeth stop clenching, the jaw relaxes, and you discover tremendous space in the mouth cavity. On a more subtle level, it's like you shed a heavy coat of tension. You diffuse strain. If you pay attention, you might feel more space overall--from the top and back parts of the head (i.e. the brain, or thinking flesh) all the way down to the pelvic floor, the groins, the hips, and the legs. Your external and internal gaze soften, your receptivity expands, and you realize that the tension in your tongue and jaw has been keeping you on "back-burner high alert," literally keeping you "in your head" at the expense of the rest of your physical flesh.
Modern anatomy provides a simple explanation of that phenomenon. The tongue is the top part of the Deep Front Line (DFL), as explained to us by Tom Myers. The deep front line starts (or ends, depending on how you want to look at it) deep in the sole of the foot (where the tentacle attachments of the tibialis posterior muscle connect and support the major bones of the foot and ankle like a hammock) and ends (or starts) with the tongue. This is literally your plumb line, gravity line, support line, your posture line. Per Myers, it plays a major role in lifting the inner arch, stabilizing each segment of the legs, supporting the lumbar spine from the front (where we all need support!), stabilizing the chest while allowing the expansion and relaxation of breathing, and balancing the delicate neck and the heavy head on top of it. Here is a fascinating video of Myers (note: this a dissection of the deep front line and therefore, viewer discretion is advised), walking us through the entire deep front line in one piece: from feet to diaphragm to tongue!
Doug Keller calls the DFL the core sutra (thread) of the body. And the DFL is indeed your core! Further, per Myers, the DFL is not strictly associated with any movement (minus a couple of exceptions like the diaphragm!), yet no movement is outside its sphere of subtle and profound influence.
But let me get back to the tongue. So, having a tense tongue can literally create tension (and therefore, inefficiency) anywhere along this core line. If the gravity line is not in optimality/balance, the body will find other ways to function by compensating with other more superficial structures (this is the beauty and the curse of the human flesh). Remember this the next time you feel gripping anywhere in the body when in a yoga pose you find challenging or try to do a pose by clenching your teeth and pushing your tongue against the insides of the mouth.
Here is even a more radical thought: why not remember that throughout the day, not just in your daily or weekly or whatever frequency works for you yoga class. Start noticing how much tension you hold with your tongue throughout your day and release it anytime you notice. This can at first be anywhere from exasperating to annoying as you realize how much you do it, but I think the more you engage in that simple technique of letting the tongue free, the less you will grip it. As you do this, there will be more spring in your step (literally!), you will move and function with more grace and utility, and your engagement with your surroundings will be both more enhanced and less harsh.
(image from WebMD, accessed here: http://www.webmd.com/oral-health/picture-of-the-tongue)
In many yoga classes during centering and sometimes even while doing yoga postures, or asanas, you might be instructed to let the tongue float, release the tip of the tongue away from the roof of the mouth or from pressing into the back of the teeth, and soften and relax both the tip and root of the tongue. Once you do that, the upper and lower teeth stop clenching, the jaw relaxes, and you discover tremendous space in the mouth cavity. On a more subtle level, it's like you shed a heavy coat of tension. You diffuse strain. If you pay attention, you might feel more space overall--from the top and back parts of the head (i.e. the brain, or thinking flesh) all the way down to the pelvic floor, the groins, the hips, and the legs. Your external and internal gaze soften, your receptivity expands, and you realize that the tension in your tongue and jaw has been keeping you on "back-burner high alert," literally keeping you "in your head" at the expense of the rest of your physical flesh.
Modern anatomy provides a simple explanation of that phenomenon. The tongue is the top part of the Deep Front Line (DFL), as explained to us by Tom Myers. The deep front line starts (or ends, depending on how you want to look at it) deep in the sole of the foot (where the tentacle attachments of the tibialis posterior muscle connect and support the major bones of the foot and ankle like a hammock) and ends (or starts) with the tongue. This is literally your plumb line, gravity line, support line, your posture line. Per Myers, it plays a major role in lifting the inner arch, stabilizing each segment of the legs, supporting the lumbar spine from the front (where we all need support!), stabilizing the chest while allowing the expansion and relaxation of breathing, and balancing the delicate neck and the heavy head on top of it. Here is a fascinating video of Myers (note: this a dissection of the deep front line and therefore, viewer discretion is advised), walking us through the entire deep front line in one piece: from feet to diaphragm to tongue!
Doug Keller calls the DFL the core sutra (thread) of the body. And the DFL is indeed your core! Further, per Myers, the DFL is not strictly associated with any movement (minus a couple of exceptions like the diaphragm!), yet no movement is outside its sphere of subtle and profound influence.
But let me get back to the tongue. So, having a tense tongue can literally create tension (and therefore, inefficiency) anywhere along this core line. If the gravity line is not in optimality/balance, the body will find other ways to function by compensating with other more superficial structures (this is the beauty and the curse of the human flesh). Remember this the next time you feel gripping anywhere in the body when in a yoga pose you find challenging or try to do a pose by clenching your teeth and pushing your tongue against the insides of the mouth.
Here is even a more radical thought: why not remember that throughout the day, not just in your daily or weekly or whatever frequency works for you yoga class. Start noticing how much tension you hold with your tongue throughout your day and release it anytime you notice. This can at first be anywhere from exasperating to annoying as you realize how much you do it, but I think the more you engage in that simple technique of letting the tongue free, the less you will grip it. As you do this, there will be more spring in your step (literally!), you will move and function with more grace and utility, and your engagement with your surroundings will be both more enhanced and less harsh.
Friday, February 22, 2013
What's in a Name?
One of the things that fascinate me in life are the words that we use to describe things. Specifically, their origin and how they came to be used into their current context. That is, I am a big fan of the etymology dictionary. I also love languages and finding connections between words in different languages, usually by figuring out a common root in the words. For example, the word for "life" in my native language, Bulgarian, is "zhivot." In Sanskrit, "jiva" most simply means "living," "alive," among many more subtle meanings. So, that is fascinating, because obviously the Bulgarian word for life is etymologically connected to the Sanskrit word "jiva" (which is also from where the Jivamukti style of yoga takes its name, for example).
So, why is this blog called FleshContext?
Flesh:
I got fascinated with using "flesh" as a way to describe and think about the "body" (most simply, our physical embodiment) courtesy of the fascinating Matthew Remski, a writer, yoga and Ayurveda practitioner, whom I highly recommend that you check out (I've always wondered how I would describe myself in terms of yoga and, thanks to him, as of now, I feel that phenomenological yogi is a fitting description). As most of my readers know, the mind and the body are really one continuum and are anything but separate. However, the word "body" implies a separation from the "soul" at least since the 13th century and it also has the meaning of "corpse" from around the same time. It also implies separation from the world and from one's environment or "livingworld" as Remski calls it. Moreover, the "yoga body" is quite fetishisized in contemporary yoga culture and, like yoga poses, it becomes a thing--static, like a snapshot forever frozen in time. But that is the subject of another post. In short, the connection between mind and body, between thinking and feeling, between thought and flesh is always-already present, regardless of whether we perceive, are conscious, or aware of it. In other words, flesh implies a dynamism rather than stasis, the idea that balance and health occur through our relationship with our livingworld, within our circumstance. After consulting with the etymology dictionary, I was delighted to discover the following under the entry for flesh: An Old English poetry-word for "body" was flæsc-hama, literally "flesh-home." So, flesh is simply one's physical embodiment, the instrument through which we feel, experience, and reflect on the world.
Context:
Context is one of my favorite words or concepts and I find it so useful when self-reflecting and trying to make sense of anything in my life. In short, context is your livingworld, the environment within which you function, your ecology: from the food you eat to the air you breathe to your family, friends, and colleagues, to the driver that cut you off and made you mad this morning, to the weather right now, to what you see in the various media, ad infinitum... To borrow a memorable phrase from another fascinating modern yogi and thinker, Christina Sell, "context is everything." The etymological dictionary reveals this about context: from Latin contextus "a joining together," originally pp. of contexere "to weave together," from com- "together" + texere "to weave". Does this remind you of something else? Yes, that's right! Yoga, which literally translates as "union," "yoking," "to join."
In a nutshell, why FleshContext? Because, for me, it encapsulates what life and one's existence are all about. To borrow from Ayurveda, the meaning of life is your journey towards wholeness (context) that accounts for your uniqueness (flesh). So, we are not one, we are not separate, we are the dynamic balance between the two.
So, why is this blog called FleshContext?
Flesh:
I got fascinated with using "flesh" as a way to describe and think about the "body" (most simply, our physical embodiment) courtesy of the fascinating Matthew Remski, a writer, yoga and Ayurveda practitioner, whom I highly recommend that you check out (I've always wondered how I would describe myself in terms of yoga and, thanks to him, as of now, I feel that phenomenological yogi is a fitting description). As most of my readers know, the mind and the body are really one continuum and are anything but separate. However, the word "body" implies a separation from the "soul" at least since the 13th century and it also has the meaning of "corpse" from around the same time. It also implies separation from the world and from one's environment or "livingworld" as Remski calls it. Moreover, the "yoga body" is quite fetishisized in contemporary yoga culture and, like yoga poses, it becomes a thing--static, like a snapshot forever frozen in time. But that is the subject of another post. In short, the connection between mind and body, between thinking and feeling, between thought and flesh is always-already present, regardless of whether we perceive, are conscious, or aware of it. In other words, flesh implies a dynamism rather than stasis, the idea that balance and health occur through our relationship with our livingworld, within our circumstance. After consulting with the etymology dictionary, I was delighted to discover the following under the entry for flesh: An Old English poetry-word for "body" was flæsc-hama, literally "flesh-home." So, flesh is simply one's physical embodiment, the instrument through which we feel, experience, and reflect on the world.
Context:
Context is one of my favorite words or concepts and I find it so useful when self-reflecting and trying to make sense of anything in my life. In short, context is your livingworld, the environment within which you function, your ecology: from the food you eat to the air you breathe to your family, friends, and colleagues, to the driver that cut you off and made you mad this morning, to the weather right now, to what you see in the various media, ad infinitum... To borrow a memorable phrase from another fascinating modern yogi and thinker, Christina Sell, "context is everything." The etymological dictionary reveals this about context: from Latin contextus "a joining together," originally pp. of contexere "to weave together," from com- "together" + texere "to weave". Does this remind you of something else? Yes, that's right! Yoga, which literally translates as "union," "yoking," "to join."
In a nutshell, why FleshContext? Because, for me, it encapsulates what life and one's existence are all about. To borrow from Ayurveda, the meaning of life is your journey towards wholeness (context) that accounts for your uniqueness (flesh). So, we are not one, we are not separate, we are the dynamic balance between the two.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
The All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet Way of Selling Yoga
The typical yoga studio is set up something like this. The studio is founded and managed by an owner, most often a teacher her/himself, who usually but not always teaches a couple to a few classes a week at the studio and is responsible for setting the tone/vibe and the direction of the studio (styles offered, workshops, etc.). This person also needs to be a good manager and ultimately has to accept the role of a business person if his/her studio is to be successful and he/she is able to make a living off of the endeavor. Said studio owner also needs to hire teachers who fit his/her vision and are willing to follow his/her direction. This relationship will be the subject of a future post. What I am concerned with here is the way yoga is sold to the consumer and how this ultimately discourages the student from developing their own personal practice that fits their unique needs and requirements based on a specific day, time of life, etc.
This model of selling yoga offers a drop-in for a single class for a certain price, say $20 per class, as well as passes for a number of classes (in packages of 10, 15, or 20, which lead to a discount on the single class drop-in price of a few dollars). The drop-in is a good option for first-time visitors and the passes are good for the occasional consumer, taking into account that they have an expiration date. Most importantly, studios offer an unlimited monthly pass or an unlimited annual pass, sometimes also referred to as membership. I call it the all-you-can-eat-buffet model. In order for this membership to be worth its cost, the student needs to maximize his/her attendance. The more the student goes, the cheaper it becomes to do yoga. Studios, understandably, want to lock in clients and so promote the membership as exactly that: a cost-effective option to do as much yoga as possible and maximize one's investment.
This has a number of effects:
(1) It actually discourages the development of one's own personal practice--a practice that fits one's unique needs and requirements based on a specific day, time of life, etc. Rather than making time, even if it is once a week, for coaxing oneself towards developing a personalized asana practice, this model of selling yoga encourages a lot of class taking and not a lot of practicing and self-exploration. Yoga class is for getting tools and ideas that one can explore in their own practice time and integrate.
(2) The membership locks the practitioner out of experimenting with different studios/teachers. Studio memberships are not cheap, so the idea of going to a class that's outside the studio doesn't make financial sense for most people, even if it costs $10.
(3) On a more subtle level, I think it leads students to "overeat" yoga and/or "eat" some yoga just because it's there, available, and convenient, not because it suits them.
(4) On an even more subtle level, it breeds complacency and conformity. With the all-you-can-eat-buffet yoga, one gradually comes to perceive the studio as their own little yoga world/network: the space is familiar and soothing, you know the people at the front desk, you know who will show up to which class, etc. The whole experience get very predictable and routine to the point of breeding dullness. Don't get me wrong, I am all about having a safe, welcoming, and yes, predictable (in terms of quality, style, vibe, etc), class to go to, one that inspires and motivates you to practice on your own, to explore all the tidbits, take what works for you, and dismiss/file away what doesn't at the moment.
All I am saying is that the all-you-can-eat-buffet way of selling yoga, which is the dominant model, is ultimately not prodding the practitioner to create their own practice. Please feel free to chime in and let me know what you think and what your experience has been. I am of the mind that sometimes to make your point, you have to exaggerate it a little bit :).
This model of selling yoga offers a drop-in for a single class for a certain price, say $20 per class, as well as passes for a number of classes (in packages of 10, 15, or 20, which lead to a discount on the single class drop-in price of a few dollars). The drop-in is a good option for first-time visitors and the passes are good for the occasional consumer, taking into account that they have an expiration date. Most importantly, studios offer an unlimited monthly pass or an unlimited annual pass, sometimes also referred to as membership. I call it the all-you-can-eat-buffet model. In order for this membership to be worth its cost, the student needs to maximize his/her attendance. The more the student goes, the cheaper it becomes to do yoga. Studios, understandably, want to lock in clients and so promote the membership as exactly that: a cost-effective option to do as much yoga as possible and maximize one's investment.
This has a number of effects:
(1) It actually discourages the development of one's own personal practice--a practice that fits one's unique needs and requirements based on a specific day, time of life, etc. Rather than making time, even if it is once a week, for coaxing oneself towards developing a personalized asana practice, this model of selling yoga encourages a lot of class taking and not a lot of practicing and self-exploration. Yoga class is for getting tools and ideas that one can explore in their own practice time and integrate.
(2) The membership locks the practitioner out of experimenting with different studios/teachers. Studio memberships are not cheap, so the idea of going to a class that's outside the studio doesn't make financial sense for most people, even if it costs $10.
(3) On a more subtle level, I think it leads students to "overeat" yoga and/or "eat" some yoga just because it's there, available, and convenient, not because it suits them.
(4) On an even more subtle level, it breeds complacency and conformity. With the all-you-can-eat-buffet yoga, one gradually comes to perceive the studio as their own little yoga world/network: the space is familiar and soothing, you know the people at the front desk, you know who will show up to which class, etc. The whole experience get very predictable and routine to the point of breeding dullness. Don't get me wrong, I am all about having a safe, welcoming, and yes, predictable (in terms of quality, style, vibe, etc), class to go to, one that inspires and motivates you to practice on your own, to explore all the tidbits, take what works for you, and dismiss/file away what doesn't at the moment.
All I am saying is that the all-you-can-eat-buffet way of selling yoga, which is the dominant model, is ultimately not prodding the practitioner to create their own practice. Please feel free to chime in and let me know what you think and what your experience has been. I am of the mind that sometimes to make your point, you have to exaggerate it a little bit :).
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