Deeside Yoga Institute

A wee note as we break for summer.

Since the start of the year, I have had the joy of teaching chair yoga , and I want to say something about the incredible students who turn up each week. Most are retired, ranging from their fifties onward, all with mixed abilities, and every single week they walk in smiling and open to whatever I bring 😁

Some weeks we work exceptionally hard. The core work from the chair is deceptively challenging 😉, and rather than shy away from it, they meet it head-on, with laughter and crazy smiles, to match my own.

Other weeks, we slow right down into somatic and more adaptive practices, listening to what the body is actually telling us rather than forcing it anywhere in particular. No two weeks look the same, and that is rather the point.

What I did not expect when I started is how much they would lift me. I come in to teach and I leave with my spirits raised every single time.

So this is a thank you to my chair yoga group. Have a wonderful summer. I will miss your energy and your laughter, and I cannot wait to be back with you when classes resume in late August.

Have a lovely summer 💕

The autonomic nervous system has three states.

Most students arrive at class in one of them.

Knowing the difference is the foundation of nervous-system-aware teaching. Here are eight slides for class planning.

Rest as resistance to the pressure cooker that is modern life.

We live in a culture that has framed rest as the absence of work, and work as the source of our value. So when we rest, we often feel guilty. As if we’ve stopped producing the thing that makes us worthy.

I think yoga, when taught carefully, can begin to slowly undo this.

Not by adding rest to the day as another task to complete, or as a reward after work, but by teaching the body that rest is not the absence of something. It is a state in itself. Whole. Complete.

Restorative practice does this. Yin does this. So does sitting on the grass and observing life without needing to use our phones to document everything or achieve Rest as resistance to the pressure cooker that is modern life.
Rest as resistance.

We live in a culture that has framed rest as the absence of work, and work as the source of our value. So when we rest, we often feel guilty. As if we’ve stopped producing the thing that makes us worthy.

I think yoga, when taught carefully, can begin to slowly undo this conditioning.

Not by adding rest to the day as another task to complete, or as a reward after exhaustion, but by teaching the body that rest is not the absence of something. It is a state in itself. Whole. Complete.

Restorative practice does this. Yin does this. So does sitting on the grass and observing life without needing to optimise, document, or achieve anything from the moment. No phone. No distractions. Just you, by yourself, with yourself, for yourself.

If you’re tired and don’t know how to rest, perhaps this is the practice for a little while. To simply stay.

I’ll be exploring this, alongside the science behind it, in a free 90-minute lecture on Tuesday 16th June. Link here if you would like to join: https://deesideyogainstitute.com/nervous-system-launch-lecture

The practice that asks us to stay.

Over my years of teaching yoga, I’ve noticed how easily we can associate depth with movement. Moving through vinyasas, transitioning between poses, flowing constantly. The body stays busy, the mind stays occupied, and because it feels active, we often assume we are going deeper into the practice.

But honestly, some of the most transformative experiences I have had, both personally and with students, have come through the practices that ask us to do less. To simply stay.

This is why yin and restorative continue to humble me as both a teacher and practitioner. The long holds can reveal so much, physically, mentally and emotionally, but I also think it’s important to acknowledge that stillness does not feel safe or supportive for everybody.

I see this with students and have experienced it myself for quite a while, back in 2022. The moment movement slows, there can be an urge to fidget, adjust, distract, or leave the pose altogether, both physically or mentally. Not because someone is doing the practice “wrong”, but because slowing down can sometimes bring us into closer contact with tension, overwhelm, emotion, or discomfort that has been easier to avoid while we keep ourselves busy.

This is why I believe these practices need to be approached gently, with choice, autonomy and compassion. Staying does not mean forcing the pose; stillness definitely does not mean enduring it either. Sometimes the most skilful practice is recognising when the body needs support, movement, grounding, or rest instead.

For me, it is about creating safety in class where students can begin listening to themselves honestly.