Molly McGillicuddy Yoga, West Boylston, MA (2026)

01/11/2019

"It's a serious thing/just to be alive/on this fresh morning/in this broken world." - Mary Oliver

12/13/2018

Been scheming and dreaming this little workshop for years. ❤️🌟❤️

Think of it as a big ol' mega class with oodles of opportunity to explore -- asana, breathwork, and more! We'll play, reflect, experiment, take on challenge, and investigate all our practices have to offer.
SAVE THE DATE! Saturday -- Feb 9!!

12/08/2018

This morning’s practice was busy and full. We were mat to mat and there were probably some awkward face to rump moments between neighbors in wide legged forward fold, but it was such a joy to practice with a room full of yogis. It was uplifting to feel the energy of a whole group trying on challenging poses and right in the flow. And it was equally inspiring to watch students tend to their own needs and their individual practice.

A practice of outer and inner realms.

It reminded me that this time of year is often filled to the brim with festivities, gatherings, and plain old hoopla. When we’re only caught up in the outside wrappings, all of this external excitement can make us feel frenzied and harried. But this is also the time of year, when nature itself invites us to turn inward. It doesn’t take much of a nudge to prompt me to snuggle up with our pup, but the winter season certainly gives an extra push for quiet, stillness, slowing down. So then what about the eggnog and hoopla, the jingle bells and the holly jolly? We seem to have a contradiction on our hands...

A discord between outer and inner??

But maybe this is the balance that this morning’s practice so beautifully illustrated – the possibility to feel the charged energy from the whole group, but also the simultaneous quietude of everyone’s inner practice. We can connect with others and connect inward. And I might argue that when you’re really on to something, you’re doing both naturally. 🌟❄️✨❄️

Thanks for the beautiful practice this morning!
And hope to see more of you this week!

11/28/2018

Hip Hip Hooray!
We're going to continue to explore the outer HIPS this week.
New flows -- new ways to get at your piriformis!

Wednesday - Level II - 9:30am
Wednesday - Restorative - 11am
Wednesday - Vinyasa - 5:30pm
Thursday - Vinyasa - 7pm
Saturday - Anne Marie will be subbing as I finish the last weekend of my 300hr training! I'm sure she's got goodies in store. 🌟🧡🌟

11/22/2018

Gratitude Practice
Thanksgiving Morning
8:30-9:45 - CMYW

11/22/2018

It might be cold tomorrow. But don't let that stop you from coming to yoga to warm your heart!! 🧡🧡🧡
8:30-9:45. Gentle Yoga. Guided Relaxation. Metta Practice!

11/19/2018

Join me for a Gratitude Practice on Thanksgiving morning.

♥️Come to your mat to give thanks breath by breath♥️

Gentle Flow & Restorative.
8:30-9:45

Sometimes gratitude is easy. The sun is shining. Your partner had dinner ready when you came home from work. Your co-worker bought you a coffee “just because,” and at yoga, the teacher seemed to know all of your favorite poses. You had time to take a walk in the woods, see a show, or enjoy a good meal with good friends.

There are countless things in our lives we can be grateful for. But sometimes we can get stuck in a cycle where gratitude might be the last thing on our minds. It’s pouring and you forgot your coat. You open the fridge to make dinner after an exasperating day at work and only a jar of pickles stares back. You spill the coffee or burn your tongue, and at yoga, you wonder exactly how it is that the teacher seems to know all of your least favorite poses. There is no time for a walk, or a show, and you haven’t connected with your friends in far too long.

Yes, sometimes it might seem like we’re chalking up more tallies in the “things to complain about” column than its opposite, but if we actively practice gratitude, we can start to shift that perspective.

I’m no expert, and I know that there are a hundred things I could do differently to practice living with more gratitude, but I thought I’d share with you a start. I tried to make these simple tips that you could begin incorporating in your day right away.

STRETCH IN THE MORNING. I’m not saying you need to set your alarm any earlier or roll out your yoga mat and do a full practice. In fact, you can even stay in bed and just do some simple movements to wake up. Stretch from fingertips to toe tips. Bring your knees to your chest. Do anything that feels good and notice that feeling. Notice your body and say thank you.

GET OUTSIDE. Nothing fancy, just open the door and walk outside (put your coat on! It’s November.). Outside, notice how the sunlight filters through the trees, the way the clouds glide quickly on a windy day, the crisp and earthy smell of leaves. Reconnect to simplicity and the natural rhythm of the earth.

ASK WHAT YOU CAN LEARN. When you meet an obstacle, ask what you can discover. Maybe an injury teaches you about patience and self-care. A hard-to-deal with co-worker could help you learn empathy. Encountering harsh self-talk and noticing it could teach you compassion.

SHARE YOUR APPRECIATION. When you are thankful, say thank you. When you notice something beautiful, kind, interesting, amazing, or funny, voice that appreciation and allow others to share in your gratitude.

NOTICE WHAT YOU HAVE. Shift your perspective so you can see your life and experiences from a point of gratitude. Recognize all that is full and abundant in your life, rather than what you lack. And start small with the day-to-day world and all the many good things that fill your life.

BEFORE BED, TAKE STOCK. You can use a journal and write your thoughts or you can just note quietly to yourself something in your day for which you are grateful. Close your day giving thanks.

11/12/2018

I wrote this poem after reading the Shetashvatara Upanishad, which speaks to the idea that separateness is an illusion and that all beings are connected.
Inspired by that idea, I set to work writing this and would say it is more a free-flow of thoughts that hopefully coalesce around that immense concept. Sharing this writing without any editing since this isn't about being perfect. ;)

To know the unity of all life leads
to deathlessness; to know not leads to death.
- Shvetashvatara Upanishad

The pigs were tremendous.
Rooting and snuffing at slop.
Their copper-colored bodies immense,
so full-up with their pigginess.
To see their mud-joy was to understand my own.

I am
the feeling of the lavender-gold of afternoon light,
the way it falls on the white pines and your grandmother’s desk in equal measure.

I am
the wild impossibility of a mushroom, bright pink against the sodden forest floor.

I am
The first three strained and deliberate notes of “Hot Cross Buns” played on the recorder by a nine-year-old.

The softness of a deer in the gloaming light
The c-curve of my dog’s back as she lies curled at my feet.
Leaf-ripping howl-winds
The flutter of a chickadee’s tiny heart
Our President, even if I have to try so hard not to hate him

I’m the way you wear your grandfather’s flannel shirt
I’m the raspberry squares he made from scratch

Splendor and joy.
Heartache as heavy and hollow-bottomed as a whale’s blue yawn in the ocean.
In fact, I am a whale’s blue yawn in the ocean.

The yeast smell of bread and the skunk smell of cabbage.
The rat-ta-tat of hail on the car roof
The warm August-smell of the first rain on asphalt
The spiral of an oak leaf in free fall
When the stars are so thick you could stir them
One of those deep-water fish whose brains are visible
A hawk making an arrow dive down the cliff face

I am the underwater clicks and ticks when you swim to the cold spot in a lake and just listen.

The girl who called me bug-eyed on the bus-ride.
The sweet boy in the back of the class who has “Pink Moon” stuck in his head.
A woman whose back is tired from stooping, making hudut
A painter,
a lawyer,
the woman at the bank with a hangnail,
this boy,
that girl,
the one who you let get away,
a matriarch,
a general,
an old man who loves butterscotch,
the thirteen kids in a village in West Africa playing soccer with a makeshift ball of burlap and twine,
the woman who dared herself to dye her hair purple at sixty,
the ones who are angry,
the ones who are scared,
the ones who feel lost all of the time, even when they’re home.

Could the world really be this big?
And could I really be one with all and everything?

When I was thirteen, I saw coverage of the war in Kosovo on the CBS Evening News.
A line of refugees walking,
trekking through grey-brown mud.
A grandmother, stopping to wipe her yellow rain-boots clean.

It didn’t make me think of my grandmother,
or of war and crisis.
I thought about how sometimes we want our boots to be clean.
And I couldn’t stop crying.

11/06/2018

Yoga's Case For Voting (and mine too)

We talk a lot in yoga about acceptance. Acceptance is a full understanding of our present reality and a willingness to include whatever is before us. And this consists of the breathtaking spectrum of things – from joys and sorrows, successes and failures, pleasures and frustrations. It’s pretty easy to include what we like, but much harder to accept what challenges us. In the tradition of yoga, in the five Niyamas (self-observances), one could categorize Santosha as “acceptance” – san meaning “completely;” tosha meaning “contentment.”

Acceptance means that we can be fully a part of our experiences without as much struggle because we aren’t railing against our own reality.

And I think a really important distinction to make is acceptance is absolutely NOT the same as complacency. Acceptance is not sitting back on the sidelines. It is deeply investing yourself in understanding all that is before you. Acceptance means being wide awake to reality and daring ourselves to courageously deal with what we are confronted with. If you broke your leg, while you wouldn’t need to dwell in the misfortune of your accident, thereby doubling your suffering, you also wouldn’t just sit back and wait; you’d take care of yourself by going to the doctor and getting a cast and then rehab your leg so it healed properly. And I see our political climate in the same way. I can accept what is before me, and take necessary action. Because I don’t see how we can be complacent when children are separated from families, when the perils climate change go unchecked, in the face of mass incarceration of and systemic violence toward people of color, and when one in three women in the United States is likely to be a victim of sexual violence in her lifetime. That’s what is in front of us, and as I accept it for the reality of what is, I can use my voice, my vote, my heart to work toward a more peaceful and compassionate world.

In other words, tomorrow, I’m voting! ☑️

10/29/2018

I haven’t posted here in ages. Quite frankly, I wasn’t sure if the words I wrote in this space had much of an impact or even came close to being the bright spot I’d hoped they’d be in what is too often an unjust, peace-deprived, and disconnected world.
♥️♥️♥️
Recent events -- the killing of eleven innocent Jewish worshippers, the slaughter of a journalist because of his commitment to the truth, the relative silence on the humanitarian crisis in Yemen, the relative noise of our commander in chief warning about peaceful immigrants seeking asylum – have compelled me to open up this space again. I hope that it can be a way to support your practice off of the mat, a way to reach out to a wider community.
***
I was worried that the words I was writing might sound trite in comparison to the events that surround us, both globally and personally. But I’m choosing to write here again to in some way share my thinking about how the teachings of yoga can occupy space that extends so far beyond the 71” of our mat – and to me, that idea is not trite at all, so I hope that my words can in some way capture the profundity of it.
***
Today in practice, our intention encapsulated the idea that support precedes change. In a very basic sense, we can understand how placing a block under our hand might provide the support we need to transform a pose from struggle to a healthy release. Digging deeper, we might think about how the ebb and flow of breath can be the support we lean into to shift our energy from dull to illuminated. A kinder thought can lead to a healthier relationship between body and mind. Throughout practice today, I asked students to inquire about both external and internal supports.
***
And I ended class by inviting students to think about sangha – or community – as they walked with their intention off the mat. Our work in life needs the support of others to share in both joy and sorrow. To do the hard work of spreading more peace and compassion in this world, we can’t do it alone – we need the support of community at our side. Our sangha can be comprised of a circle of family and friends, our tight community of trust and support. But you also might imagine widening that circle to include neighbors, colleagues, acquaintances, those folks you see when you’re madly pushing your cart through the aisles of the grocery store. Anyone could be there as support. And the circle is ever-widening if our hearts are open. Maybe it grows so big, you can imagine extending your sangha to include all beings. In that way, you’re never alone, always connected, fully supported, and fully in support of all beings.
♥️♥️♥️

07/25/2018

Get after it... :)

Molly McGillicuddy Yoga

01/11/2019

12/13/2018

12/08/2018

11/28/2018

11/22/2018

11/22/2018

11/19/2018

11/12/2018

11/06/2018

10/29/2018

07/25/2018

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