yoga Archives - adrienne shum

rest & digest: a 1/2 day urban retreat in April

Join me for a half-day urban yoga / meditation retreat at Open Concept on Sat April 12th (1-4 pm, $100+GST) in which we can dive deeper into the practice. A retreat gives us the chance to slow down and honour what we’ve been going through, so that we can move forward with a sense of cohesion and meaning.

Challenging experiences (whether big or small) can leave a residue in both our bodies and minds. Practice can be a way to metabolize these experiences, both through addressing the physical digestive system, and the mental/emotional processes by which we learn to integrate the past.

Expect:

A nourishing yoga practice that promotes the body’s ability to heal via focusing on the physical digestive system
Meditation practice(s) that teach us to allow for emotions and sensations (mental digestion)
An interactive discussion on what these practices are all about and how they can apply to daily life
A gentle environment that supports healing and compassionate self-inquiry
Simple self-care practices and food for thought as you move forward in life’s journey

This offering is a synthesis of my knowledge in yoga, somatics, Ayurveda, food science, and human physiology. My goal is to create a safe and inclusive space for all who wish to practise awareness and equanimity. You do not need any previous yoga or meditation experience to attend; what is more important is to come prepared to open your mind and heart. Capacity is limited to 22 participants.

Schedule:

1:00-1:15 PM – opening remarks
1:15 – 2:30 PM – yoga practice and meditation
2:30 – 2:45 PM – break, tea time
2:45 – 3:45 PM – dharma talk, Q&A, discussion
3:45 – 4:00 PM – closing remarks

For those familiar with Open Concept, undergoing a retreat in a familiar space frees up energy for us to go deeper into the practice. For those new to the studio but local to Winnipeg, may the accessibility of this offering be of value. Open Concept is at Grant and Kenaston, on the #66 bus route, and has free parking in the surrounding lot.

Let’s pause and de-clog! To register*, please visit Open Concept’s website HERE.

*A note about registration: Open Concept is experiencing a glitch with their booking system, MindBody – the “book” button is not working! It’s okay, we’re used to things breaking down (ha ha ha…ha.). Anyway, it is actively being worked on, but when it’ll get fixed is unknown. If you click on the link above and are unable to book yourself in, please email Open Concept here for them to help you complete registration. Thank you for your patience!!

Safety first, middle, and last.

As we come to the end of another year, it feels fitting to sum things up with a few wise words that bring closure to what has passed, and to spark hope about the advent of a new chapter. Here’s what I got:

Goodbye, 2022! You were weird and I’m still digesting what happened!!!!
Hi, 2023! Please be merciful, thanksss

To be clear: I am incredibly grateful for the blessings I’ve received (and worked hard for, dammit) over the past 12 months. But I’ve been doing this *gestures wildly* long enough to know that the deepest growth / learning comes from struggle. Having accepted this, it has become a tenet I ascribe to – if not in practice, then at least in theory.

And after an experience / period of hardship, I look for closure. Like any of us, I strive to draw lines in the sand: this is over. It’s done. I am letting go.

But: like actual lines drawn in actual sand, these demarcations get washed away by the tide (wow, this analogy is so fun, it’s getting a bit out of hand). When new experiences come up, they tug on past memories, and we might find ourselves back in the same emotional / mental spaces we had worked so hard to distance ourselves from.

Old wounds reopen, and the turbulence of present and past mashing together can feel like we are being tossed in the waves (yup, analogy has definitely gotten out of hand). We have to begin the work of acceptance all over again.

The work of acceptance has prerequisites. First, we need awareness. Can you feel the experience in your physical and emotional bodies? Can you track your thoughts and urges to react?

Awareness also has prerequisites. We must be willing to slow down and ground into the present moment to have even a furtive glance at ourselves.

And for that, we need some semblance of safety.

Safety is a human right. It’s not even a question of deserving it; it is a need. It is the bedrock of healing deep wounds, for being able to sustain the work of healing, and for holding space for others to do the same.

It is our tragedy and our work to create this safety, in an ongoing and emergent way. How can we touch on a feeling of safety, even if for a moment? How can we gift this to others?

When we are caught in the wind of upheaval, or fallen deep into the cave of despair, safety feels impossible. In these moments, words can seem inadequate for describing what we feel – and thus make it difficult to ask for help.

As you may or may not have noticed, when we move our bodies in yoga or sit / lie down in meditation, we don’t talk much. Instead, we are grounding into ourselves, learning to create stability. We are turning inwards, in order to feel what is non-verbal, and to hold space for it.

We do this with curiosity, in an effort to drop our stories and preferences. We make ourselves available to ourselves.

We do this slowly, so it can feel as safe as possible.

As we step forward into the future, the past comes with us. How would we like to carry it?

May we learn to feel safe in our bodies and minds. May we learn to create this safety for others. It may never be perfect, but maybe it can be good enough. We may never be fully healed, but we can still be here for eachother in a meaningful way.

P.S. I’ve been doing some “light” reading / listening on the topic of trauma (can you tell?!), and if you are interested, please go here to see a list of some resources I’ve found useful on the subject.

With practice comes relief.

With the days noticeably shortening as we near the winter solstice, I have to admit it: I feel a little messed up.

I’m doing all the self-care-y things that the Wellness Industrial Complex is telling me to do: I drink water. I meditate. I sleep 8 hours a night (I’m fortunate, I know).

And yet: I feel cloudy and lethargic. I’m hyperaware of the sensations emanating from my throat, wondering if the dryness is dehydration or something worse: Covid? The flu? That other @*&#ing virus?!?!!

I chug some more water.

We can try to rebrand “neurotic” as “quirky and cute” – or as one of my students said, “neurotic is another word for self-aware”. But at some point, we need a little relief from ourselves.

Practice can be a source of that relief – maybe not always in the sense that we wake up from savasana feeling fresh and clear, but perhaps in the acknowledgement that we are sometimes groggy, grumpy, or in a funk. The acceptance is the relief, and it’s not defeat – it’s just OK.

Cap off this year by making a commitment to practice: get the online library of yoga classes, or explore a seated practice through an online course. The end of the year can be a mix of emotions for some of us; may these practices offer support in cultivating stability and a sense of release.

Even when standing in shadow, may we learn to turn ourselves towards the light.

Be well,
Adrienne

A sense of stability in the winds of change

Today the leaves on the trees are rusty red and ochre yellow. The colours this year seem particularly vibrant, perhaps because we had a wetter spring. As the wind gusts, more and more of the branches are being revealed: black tendrils that reach towards the wide open prairie sky. The days are noticeably shorter.

Things are changing.

In response, I am yearning for stability.

I love stability. After the past three-ish years, who doesn’t?! It’s one of the reasons why I was initially drawn to Ashtanga: the set sequence offered certainty, predictability. Life was full of unknowns; at least I could know what the next pose was.

I even used to eat the same breakfast every day (banana, peanut butter, toast). For four years. Then it was yoghurt and granola. For five years. And a half.

A sense of stability is so important if we are to flourish: we can step out of the comfort zone with more confidence if we know there is a safe place to retreat to. A good plan always includes a backup plan.

Then again there is only so much we can anticipate.

Things happen beyond our individual control. The nature of things is change. The leaves scattered outside remind us of this.

We don’t always know what the next step is. Life isn’t a series of postures to dogmatically follow. We don’t know how much rain we’ll get in a year. We can’t control what governments halfway around the world do.

But we do have some say. We can show up on the mat, and work with what’s arising. We can follow our breath, and be caretakers of our bodies. We can vote in our municipal elections. We can put out a barrel, and channel the rainwater towards good things.

These days, I alternate between two breakfasts: oatmeal, or eggs and toast. Baby steps; progress!

Oatmeal or not, I hope that we can all find a sense of agency and stability amidst all of life’s unpredictable moments. The yoga mat or meditation cushion can be a really reliable place to touch into that sense of stability. If you’d like to explore more, join me for a livestream session or dive into a self-paced online meditation course.

May practice be our haven in the winds of change.

Be well,
Adrienne