DC-based Yin yoga teacher Yael Flusberg shares what she learned after leading an online teacher training at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. It was always about community. The poses? Not so much.
I’ve been practicing and teaching Yin yoga for 17 years. For those who aren’t familiar with Yin, it’s a quiet, contemplative style of yoga that encourages longer-held poses which appear passive but work wonders deep in the body’s tissues. Sometimes, I teach other teachers how to teach Yin. I had always done that in person–until COVID-19 hit.
I had fought against going online for years even though everyone assured me it would be better for business. Back then, I still associated the word Zoom with the theme song from a favorite show from nursery school days.
Gen X, you remember this one? “Come on and Zoom … come on and zooma zooma-Zoom!”
But in March 2020, I had no choice but to fast-track a Yin yoga teacher training to Zoom. At the time, with a country in shutdown, I was dismayed–yet the studio hosting the training stayed open the weekend I was to hold the second of a three-weekend training. The space was airy and large enough for social distancing and so I thought it was safe. And then a participant from Taiwan begged me to reconsider, crying as she recounted what she remembered about the SARS outbreak that killed thousands.
I thought, how can I refuse?
So I dove into a self-directed crash course in screen sharing and breakout rooms, bought equipment on credit and reconstructed my curricula. I did what I needed to do so I could teach my 18 students throughout eight-hour days without “torturing the audience,” as we used to say in my street theater days.
It was a bumpy road.
Students were gracious with my “oh-shit” moments and tech glitches. They enjoyed the goofy dance breaks I instituted hourly. They sunk into the long-held passive postures characteristic of Yin. I also held longer-than-usual opening circles each morning and was surprised and moved at how openly people shared what they were carrying physically and psychologically. We closed in the evening with gratitude and blessing practices. To break up the days, I also instituted co-listening, a practice of uninterrupted speaking and listening in pairs.
The pandemic edition of yoga teacher training was unlike any other I’d done in the past. It leaned even more heavily on process and community. The moment was dire and called for closeness–even on Zoom. I felt this intuitively.
One couple who took the training together wrote in their evaluation that co-listening reignited their marriage–slowing down to speak and building listening skills without immediately responding or trying to fix anything brought them to a new level of intimacy.
Other participants shared that despite feeling like they were bouncing off the walls in those early days of seemingly endless quarantines, our slow-paced community provided a safe harbor. The process helped them work with uncertainty and the feeling of impending doom as COVID-19 came closer and closer. I’m so grateful I had a chance to teach on Zoom. It taught me so much about the very thing I was teaching.
Yin yoga pulls us toward what’s essential
In the silence and stillness of Yin yoga, the skill of paying attention sharpens and becomes essential, like second nature. And it’s not just any kind of attention–it’s attention filled with compassion and love.
For me, Yin feels like the earth’s gravitational pull that draws objects toward the center of the planet. I am just drawn toward something essential in me.
A Yin practice looks like we’re doing nothing, just lying there. But something amazing is happening from within. In a Yin state, we become astutely aware of where in our bodies we’re bracing or gripping. We become familiar with where in our bodies we feel intense emotions and bodily reactions triggered by our thoughts. By softening up, we yield to our feelings instead of collapsing emotionally.
With practice, we can deeply relax our muscles. We might also understand intuitively how to unravel thoughts and behaviors from incessant tension and loops. We can do this in a way that’s safe enough to let down our guard. It’s like looking at yourself honestly in the mirror, except you’re on a mat.
In time, we often develop an approach that is gentle and disciplined, which insists on authenticity, intentionality and a liberation of energy previously bound up in patterns of control or struggle.
Yin yoga is the antidote to perfectionism
Yin yoga is far from the only route to better attention or insight into self, but hear me out. It’s really good for the inner perfectionist. If you’re that busy body with ants-in-the-pants, yielding to non-movement may seem hard. But you can trick yourself into thinking that sitting for 3-5 minutes is good for you. And guess what? It is! By slowing down, you’re actually being productive. It’s so healthy to engage in that deep “listening” of your body. You’ll “see” and “feel” what would normally go unnoticed. It’s a different kind of to-do list.
And it’s a special kind of joy. When I practice Yin, I embody a fuller presence that goes beyond focusing obsessively on my thoughts. This helps me connect deeply with other intelligent beings on this planet–from the plants in my tiny yard to my newly rescued kitten–without being transactional about everything.
It’s also an “active” rest. When you rest Yin-style, your body is engaging in thousands of little internal processes, rewiring the nervous system, improving posture and even shifting belief patterns from the “ground up” of your whole being. In our 24/7 hustle and grind culture, rest isn’t just self-care–it’s a foundational form of freedom and resistance–I’m proud to be part of the people who brought you the Sabbath. You’re welcome!
Take a walk on the Yin side
Yin yoga isn’t just about doing poses. It’s about letting go, looking inside and being real. It’s about self-regulation. It’s about acceptance and allowing, of observing the world with compassion. It makes me a better person so I can be a better person with others.
I know that sounds deep. But guess what? You don’t even have to be on a yoga mat to go there. All this healing can take any number of forms, including solo dancing, walking in the woods, journaling or co-listening with a friend.
And this can take us further, as a society.
If more of us committed to the Yin path, what would our in-person and online presence look, sound and feel like? How would we be working against the multiple pandemics of loneliness and polarization? How would Yin replace the cacophonous and hypo-nourishing stand-ins for activism and the beloved community? How might Yin change the character of civil discourse or engaged democracy or help us engage in ways that are both intimate and courageous?
I have many questions but can only do what the poet Rilke advised: “live into the answers day by day.” I hope you might consider doing so, too – in the Yin way.
Guest contributor Yael Flusberg is a yoga therapist and coach and a lover of the literary. To learn more about Yael’s healing arts in the greater Washington, D.C. area, visit YaelFlusberg.com. To learn more about Yin yoga, visit Yinyoga.com.
Maria de los Angeles contributed to this post.
Featured Image: Yael Flusberg teaches Yin yoga on Zoom from her home in Columbia Heights on May 25, 2020 in Washington, District of Columbia. (Courtesy of Yael Flusberg)
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