life is my mat: yin yoga

Dear Yin Yoga, you saved me from myself. My any inner turmoil I used to bear in daily life is dissipated when I take time to commune with you. Much of my happiness in my life is because of yoga,  especially what it gives me off the mat. Without you I am not always a very loving or patient person. Because of you I am learning how to let go of my fears and live bravely, as well as be compassionate, loving and honest with myself.
Thank you for this gift.

Lessons off the mat.

1. Yin teaches me patience and courage

Yin is a passive form of yoga that focuses on meditative states while holding postures; it calms the nervous system, opens the fascia in the body rather than the muscles, and develops the yin (feminine, receptive, soft, internal) energy and mind-set. This mind-training is like meditation, while the body is held in one posture (and postures are held for long holds, often 3-5 minutes) the aim is to experience it fully, focus on the present and the breath, and not run away from discomfort. In this way it teaches me patience, courage and solidity. Even the seemingly easiest poses become difficult both physically and mentally and yet yin provides a means to deal with this discomfort.

2. Yin yoga makes me happy and somehow stretches time

When I was balancing a full-time job in publishing with completing my masters degree, the weeks I engaged in a regular yoga practice seemed to have more hours in them than those weeks that I didn't. I was certainly happier and calmer, but it also strangely warped time to make more time in my life to do everything I wanted-play guitar, volunteer, read, play board games, cook, work and do research and write papers... whatever. This was some magical power that yoga, especially yin, seemed to have. I have read that our "inner chronometry", our experience of time, is elastic-and it warps depending on our activities, age, our emotional state, our memories and our experiences.
My theory is that yoga, especially yin yoga changes our inner chronometry, gives us a better sense of present-ness. This presence makes normal, daily experiences into"new experiences", like the vacation paradox that Daniel Kahneman theorized about in this article above.

3. Yin yoga is nurturing me on a deep level

In the same way that a healthy diet nurtures my body, yoga nurtures my mind and my soul. I began practicing yoga in the 80s, from the PBS show Lilias, Yoga and You at aged 15. Lilias' weird outfits never fazed me, instead I was fascinated by teaching my body to move in new ways with fabulous names, like Lion's Breath, Eagle Pose and Corpse Pose.  I loved the quietness and nurturing attitude of it. Something inside of me was drawn to yoga, I was was stilled and bolstered by it in a way I hadn't been before. And yin is this nurturing attitude embodied into a style. From that time, I never looked back and I am 42 still practicing yoga almost daily.
Recently I have found my sangha (community) in my new city (I moved to Vancouver Island a year ago): at a wonderful studio in Fan Tan Alley in Victoria with a wide variety of styles including yin. This community nurtures me as well, in my need for belonging and shared values.

4. Yin teaches me to let go and trust the process

When I started yin yoga I approached it with zeal. Zeal is the opposite of what was needed. For example, in child's pose, my first mistake was to get into this simple pose as deeply as I could. I have done it so many times, and normally it is a resting pose. But in Yin yoga a pose like this can actually get to be really difficult. After a few minutes of holding the deepest child's pose possible, the tops of my feet ache, then my mid-back, then a restrictive sensation in my shoulders. These various discomforts set off a string of mental monkey-jumping:  worry that it is hurting so much that maybe I am doing something wrong and really causing damage, and trying not to get caught up in the mental activity and focus on breath. If I am not careful I then get angry with myself and have to now let go of anger, expectations, and tension.
I have done Yin now so long that I realize that these mental questions and uncertain emotions happen a lot, so I refuse to move unless the discomfort strays into the realm of pain.I have learned to let go and ride through this process with compassion and close attention to my body's signals, as one would a best friend or a wise teacher. The point is to focus on experiencing the sensations, and let thoughts come and simply go, like clouds passing across a picture window.
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In some ways Yin is the most frustrating experience one can possible lay on oneself. And to think I pay for this punishment!

But since I have begun doing Yin yoga fairly regularly, I have begun to enjoy watching my mind flit about in this way. It has taught me a lot about how I handle small challenges in life: my habit is to  approach them with the same vigor that I used to approach the poses, then peter out and start the self doubt cycle. Yin yoga has allowed me to see this inner process and vigor as a form of violence. It is like bullying myself.
Instead I now try to start at the easiest point in a pose and slowly relax into a deeper place, in an attempt to honour ahisma (nonviolence) to my own body in my practice.

Yin yoga isn't for every yogi or yogini. But it sure has enhanced my yoga practice and my life.