The post Beginning Yoga: Why Ashtanga is the perfect practice to start with appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

‘Spirituality must be practiced not just in solitude but also amongst people.
Open out to people around you and feel connected.
This is the true challenge of spiritual practice.’
Haemin Sunim

On 1st January 2012 I had to send probably the most heartbreaking email I’ve ever had to write…

It was to the Stillpoint Yoga London community, our newsletter list of around five hundred people, to tell them how – just the day before – their teacher, colleague and friend Ozge Karabiyik had tragically passed away. I still get a visceral feeling, the weight of the responsibility of sending that message landing in my body, when I remember pressing send…

On Monday 16th March 2020 I sent the second most heartbreaking email I’ve ever had to send…

Again, it was to the Stillpoint Yoga London community – one thousand five hundred people by now – to let them know that we had to close Stillpoint for the foreseeable future, because of COVID-19. We couldn’t risk their safety, or the safety of their loved ones.

Stillpoint Yoga London has been my life for the past twelve years. It is one of the most meaningful things that I’ve ever had the privilege to undertake; from its inception in the spring of 2008 in Upper Moutere, New Zealand (where I met Ozge), and all the way through the shifts, grief, changes of venue, teachers, workshops and countless students. To now.

Now is: opening a laptop in my kitchen, and chanting Vande Gurunam into a screen.

This shouldn’t work.

Where we were

I’ve taught Mysore, or self-practice, style Ashtanga yoga for the last fifteen years. The method is so beautifully unique. It relies on a teacher to hold space, and to encourage practitioners to develop their own yoga practice, in their own time, sharing space with others. A room full of people, all practicing quietly on their own. Silent, names unknown but sharing recognition, energy, breath, inspiration and a palpable sense of internal observation and spirit. The spirit of working yoga out as individuals, together.

It has always taken a particular type of person to take this style of yoga on. To keep going. To keep coming back, again and again. Our space created the means for everyone who walked through our doors to see what happens if they were not led. To find agency in their own experience. A deep respect and love between teacher and practitioner develops in these rooms. That’s the nature of our teaching space; one where you can have an individual and personal relationship in a room full of others. A shared intimacy that can be fostered. It’s how I was taught by my teachers, and it’s how I’ve tried to share this practice on.

Then, COVID-19 happened. Lockdown. And that second email.

Where we are now

On Monday 11th May 2020, my heart broke a little more. After watching Boris Johnson’s address regarding the softening of the UK’s lockdown, and then closely reading the government guidelines the next day, I realised that we’re in this for the long haul. The environment of a Mysore yoga studio is one of closeness and relationship. And we can’t be close at the moment, or anytime soon. So, for now, opening a laptop in my kitchen and chanting Vande Gurunam into a screen continues.

The thing is…

It seems to be working.

When I first opened that laptop I was feeling vulnerable. I was self conscious about how I was delivering. It was all new to me. But, as I continued, I began to realise that I wasn’t just an isolated figure speaking into a screen. I was still holding space. It’s just that instead of holding space in our room in London Bridge, I was holding space in people’s kitchens, hallways, bedrooms, and living rooms. In their homes. Their homes became Stillpoint, where people are nurturing their own personal still-points. Over the weeks, I’ve found strength in sharing words of compassion and self care, realising that what the world needs right now is connection. Deep, meaningful connection.

“The greatness of a community is most accurately measured by the compassionate actions of its members.”
Coretta Scott King

Taking Care

At the moment, the world is on tenterhooks. None of us – in the West at least – have experienced anything like this before. It’s deeply tender, and what’s needed is the ability to be okay with that tenderness. To be at peace with it as best we can. To allow ourselves, if it feels safe, to sit with all the different layers of this time, in the present moment.

Practice at the moment has to be about taking care of yourself, keeping compassion at its heart. It made sense to me to continue to serve our Stillpoint Yoga London community in a deeply compassionate way. It’s what I’ve had to be to myself as I navigate all the changes and challenges this time has given me…

 

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A post shared by Scott Johnson (@scottjohnsonlife) on Apr 4, 2020 at 12:51pm PDT

Online Classes

In our virtual Ashtanga morning classes, I guide people through the Primary series, and, one a week, the beginning of Intermediate. But these classes are really just a container for practitioners to explore in ways that make sense to them. People can choose to do their own practice, just like they do in the Mysore room, whether that’s deciding to stop after the standing postures, or doing full Intermediate if that’s what is needed for them that day. What’s important is intention; the intention to care for yourself. We can’t give one-to-one attention, but we can provide space for personal inquiry with words and reassurance.

For me, encouraging that exploration is key. Our bodies have wisdom to share if we listen, and new stories that they can tell us if we’re willing to hear. In our Still Space, the weekday evening Mindfulness and Compassion sessions and Friday restorative class, we encourage listening with compassion. With gentleness at the heart of the practice. Creating the environment for a still space in our homes, encouraging stillness and gentleness to occur more often. Right at the heart of our lives…

Ripples

After I sent that first, heartbreaking, email in 2012, it felt hard to continue. But I realised that stopping wasn’t an option.

Why?

Because it would go against all that Ozge and I had created. Our first ever tagline was ‘Awaken yourself, Awaken others’ and it meant creating a space for people to find themselves and then pass it on. Closing would mean we’d stopped passing it on.

I didn’t know how to step forward, but what I decided to do was to help people see that contentment and self realisation is not some far off goal. It happens right now. When we slow down. When we learn to listen. This is what stepping on to a yoga mat in a Mysore room holds for us.

When I sent that second email in March 2020, I had no idea where it would lead, or what would come next. But I put my trust in the same process that guided me in 2012. I made the decision to hold space with as much love, compassion and care as I could muster. To help people to listen.

The ripples of sending that first email still resonate deeply in the ways that I move now. It always, always will. Because for me, there are many many times when this practice isn’t about the yoga postures and perfect form. It’s about us. It’s about the way we relate. The way we meet. It’s about connection. It’s about people.

And at the moment, the people, this virtual connection?

It does work.

And it’s beautiful…

“Your online space is so invaluable! To bring a sense of community in, to breathe with others; and share this beautiful practise with those we know and those we don’t. To know we are not alone and to know this crisis, along with the beauty of practise binds us in ways that will keep us tied in love forever. Thank you for providing a safe space, a sense of routine/order and colour to start each day, as well as space at the end of it.”
Roshni Hosseinzadeh | Stillpoint Online Member

The post A New Kind Of Sangha appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

Okay, so it’s not actually the end of the decade…

That will be on 31st December 2020. But when we move into a new calendar era, the ’20’s’, it feels like a good time to look back. I also know I’ve already shared a ten year blog this past year, but for this one I wanted to just share memories. Particular memories of mine that have stood out. This particular year feels like a momentous one and there have been some notable changes happening in the Ashtanga yoga community, so the movement into 2020 and beyond feels significant. This moment feels like a good time for me to reminisce (I am nothing if not rose-tinted…) as the next ten years begins. Sharing my genuine gratitude for all the things and people I have been connected to and involved with over the past ten years feels important to me. It has been a defining period of my life.

No time

10 years does seem like a long time. Yet in the scheme of things, when you have been teaching at the same time, on the same days, when you are doing something you love dearly, it doesn’t seem like it. It just becomes 10 years. It’s a day to day thing that became 3651 days. Teaching and running Stillpoint Yoga London really is work where it can feel like time doesn’t exist and that’s because I’ve loved every single moment of it. All the people who I’ve connected with over the decade have had an impact.

Who would have thought in 2010, having started on this Stillpoint adventure in 2009, that we would still be here in London Bridge thriving on 31st December 2019. It’s been 10 years that has defined me personally and a decade that I will never forget. The friendships I’ve made, the lessons I’ve learned from both adversity and joy. Meeting so many great people each day has helped me so much to grow.

Moments

These are just a few of the moments that stand out from the past 10 years –

• We’ve changed venues six times since 2010 but have always stayed in London Bridge. It was our time at Guy’s Campus and use of the three large accessible practice rooms right opposite London Bridge station that allowed us to truly flourish and evolve.
• Including Ozge and myself, we have only had seven long term teachers who have brought such light and energy to the shala – Maria, Lee, Laura, Andy, Narmin, Wendy and Sarah.
• In 2011 we had my first philosophy teacher Swami Nityamuktananda Saraswati deliver four evenings of philosophy, the only time we’ve run a philosophy only workshop.
• We sadly lost Ozge, who passed away in 2012. It was such a loss. We hosted a week of memorial sessions that will stay with me forever. We sang Kirtan with Nikki Slade, 45 of us practiced 108 sun salutations together in Ozge’s memory, John Scott came and taught a memorial class. Our community was deeply shaken but that deep loss has defined the way SYL has moved since.
• It was very soon after Ozge’s passing that Louise supported me in giving up all my other work to focus solely on the development of Stillpoint. This was a momentous point in time for me.
• Randomly on a few mornings in 2012 we had Manju Jois teaching mysore in one room and John Scott teaching in another. John had come to practice with Manju, who was teaching at Stillpoint for the first time in London, and was helping me out by looking after the SYL class while I was looking after Manju. That was such a great time. Interestingly, Manju and John came together for a memorable combined 5 day intensive in 2017. But more importantly John, and in the earlier years Lucy Crawford, has been a defining support for Stillpoint over the last 10 years. We deeply thank them for their love and generosity over the years.
• A memorable workshop was delivered by the late Michael Stone in 2013, who agreed to come to London for a midweek intensive because I had badgered him so much…
• We began hosting our annual Spring Gathering in 2014. That first one, interestingly, had John Scott and Matthew Remski delivering asana and philosophy over the weekend. However, the Spring Gathering connection that Kia Naddermier, Greg Nardi and myself have fostered since we first taught together in 2015 has been such a special part of the last decade for me.
• In 2016 and 2017 we hosted the John Scott Yoga Community Teachers CPD, which was a beautiful coming together of the JSY teaching community to share and learn with each other.
• We have hosted so many national and international teachers, many on an annual basis: John Scott, Lucy Crawford, David Keil, Liz Lark, Nikki Slade, Ranchor Prime, Michael Stone, Swami Nityamuktananda Saraswati, Jeffrey Armstrong, Matthew Remski, Joey Miles, Greg Nardi, Kia Naddermier, Philippa Asher, Manju Jois, Anthony ‘Prem’ Carlisi, Eddie Stern, Martin Aylward, Peg Mulqueen, Jock Orton, Helen McCabe, Andy Gill.
• The most successful and long term teacher that we have hosted has to be David Keil, who has come every year since 2010 and has become a close friend of ours. He really is part of the SYL furniture and we love him dearly.
• This past year we released The Stillpoints Podcast, a series of meaningful and deep conversations with SYL regulars, friends and inspirations.
• Also, we beta tested our new education programme, affiliated to Amāyu Yoga, that will be launched in 2020.

There are so many other small moments in the SYL practice room that I have missed (like when I burnt my hand on a candle and ended up in the Burns Unit at St Thomas’ Hospital).

Past and Future Foundations

But, and most importantly, it’s been our practitioners who have been the foundation of it all. Everyone who has walked through the door whether for the morning classes, a workshop or retreat, who has shown their support in the way we teach yoga. It has been our privilege to help them. So as we move into the ‘twenties’, with the pathways we are forging through our new education programme and the way we are moving to help people evolve how they practice, it is this that we will always hold onto. The memories of how we have met practitioners in the past help us to keep learning how to meet new ones in the future. To always interact with people each day in a way that helps. To always support practitioners to become more than they think they can be. And to hopefully contribute to making the world a little more beautiful, even just for a moment. Continuing to offer an opportunity to wonder at the beauty of life, at the beginning of a day.

These are our foundations. They always were, they always will be.

As we let go of the 2010’s, let’s see what the 2020’s brings.

The post A Decade Of Foundations appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

To launch the new Stillpoints podcast, Scott shares how yoga comes alive through deep interactions between people over many years…

“Sound is dynamic. Speech is dynamic — it is action. To act is to take power, to have power, to be powerful. Mutual communication between speakers and listeners is a powerful act. The power of each speaker is amplified, augmented, by the entrainment of the listeners. The strength of a community is amplified, augmented by its mutual entrainment in speech.

This is why utterance is magic. Words do have power. Names have power. Words are events, they do things, change things. They transform both speaker and hearer; they feed energy back and forth and amplify it. They feed understanding or emotion back and forth and amplify it.”

– Ursula K. Le Guin

(Taken lovingly from this piece by Maria Popova on her incomparable blog Brain Pickings)

Simply listening

It’s near the end of her third ever yoga practice and I ask Jenny* if she’d like to finish by sitting quietly before taking rest. She agrees it feels a good thing to do. I guide her into a comfortable seated position and then offer her just these words:

“Notice and feel your breath. Be with what arises.”

I watch as her face softens. It noticeably relaxes. Yet this belies something deeper. A soft furrow appears on her brow as if a tender memory has arisen that she is observing.

“Just listen,” I offer.

She is still gently smiling but her forehead is subtly changing, going between tension and softening as if something deep is being processed. Her exhalation begins to merge with a soft letting go of her body. I watch, making sure she is safe. Soft tears come. I ask her to place her hand gently on her brow so she can get in touch with where she is perhaps feeling tension. What is here? She smiles more, as if she is getting to know a part of herself that has been lost for a while.

“Be with what’s here. Keep noticing these moments that come and go.”

She sits with it a little more then lies down and settles, taking rest.

Human interaction

I have always loved deep human interaction. I love to know what moves someone. What’s moved someone to make the decisions they make in the way that life has evolved for them. You see, the way we connect to life is so deeply intimate and tied to the way our lives have evolved and played out so far.

My role as a yoga teacher is to listen. It always has been. To listen and to see how the practice of yoga that has impacted my life so much can impact someone else’s. To listen and then hopefully offer something in response that lands in a way that makes sense. Interestingly, in my previous life, when I worked on building sites as an electrician in my 20s and 30s, I loved to work with the people no one else got on with. To see why they saw the world the way they did.

How we listen is an art

To be able to stay mindful and deeply listen to someone else is an art in itself, and to be able to listen to others we have to be able to honestly listen to ourselves first. But, we are not so much listening with our ears. The ability to hold space for someone else and cultivate the use of our wider sense perceptions is to deconstruct how we are sensing ourselves in a fuller way. When we practice ourselves we are listening fully with our body and noticing how all communication lands and impacts. When we become still we actually feel the residue in each moment of the countless words, responses and reactions we have had in our lifetime.

I have met so many people over the years in my work as a yoga teacher. I have always tried to listen to each person I have met. In ten years I can’t remember how many times I have been moved by those I have interacted with. All these relationships have been deeply meaningful and I hold them dear. They help me to continue to cultivate the relationships that are to come, with the many people I have yet to meet.

Celebrating 10 years in people

I have wondered for a while how I would celebrate ten years of Stillpoint. Nothing felt like it could really do it justice, especially as it continues quietly each morning. How do you celebrate something that has deep meaning for many people? Stillpoint has always been a place you can find in yourself. It is there to point back at the Stillpoint in you, to show you that there is always a place of peace you can find in yourself. Wherever you are.

After Ozge passed away at the beginning of 2012 I realised the preciousness of life. That in those three hours first thing in the morning we were holding space for people to just take some time to be with themselves. To be with their own lives. That hopefully they will leave a little more enriched by meeting themselves first, at the beginning of the day.

Stillpoint has been about the people. It’s always been about the people. The people who have come each morning, the people who have shared their knowledge with us, the people who taught with us, who’ve been moved with us.

So, I am celebrating ten years by sharing the people with you.

The Stillpoints Podcast

Sharing the people I’ve met and interacted with during the time I’ve been practicing (since 2002) and teaching, and ultimately sharing at SYL, will be a way for you to get the gist of what Stillpoint represents for me. For us who have shared mornings and time together here over the years. Some of you know me, some of you don’t, but I so want to share with you some of the voices that have moved me over the past ten years and beyond. I would never be who I am without them. Being able to share the way I do is built on all of them. I have learned from them all and will continue to do so.

So, the podcast will be about them. Some of the names and voices you’ll know, some of them you won’t. Some of them will be renowned teachers, some of them will be practitioners who’ve come to SYL in the past. All have a story to tell about how contemplative practice has moved them in some way.

The contemplative life

The contemplative life offers us a way to be able to navigate challenges. Those of us who have a practice, whether yoga, meditation or something else, know that it helps us to meet our life, as it arises. Helps us to make choices that meet the way we then enquire and navigate back. But contemplative practices are also not pretty. They challenge us by asking us to be with the very things that we find difficult in our lives. When we stop and drop in to our moment to moment experience we meet whatever arises. This can be so hard. It can be boring, inane, frustrating. It can create real and actual fear in us. Many things can stop us from going there. Yet, for change to happen, go there we must… Cultivating a kind, compassionate way of seeing ourselves is intrinsic to this path. If we stay with this challenge, in this way, we are able to navigate these things.

The Stillpoints Podcast talks to this. To how personal contemplative life lands in our culture. That even though we all practice, how it plays out for us is so, so different. Stillpoint Yoga London is located in London Bridge. We have always been a stillpoint in the city, a place to come and find personal solace in the madness of the urban jungle.

Human stories

To live this human life is to live a story. To live many, many stories. What contemplative practice also offers us is the ability to be with these stories, to understand how they are playing out in our lives, and then create patterns that create new stories. The very awareness that we are human, that we exist at all, should stop us in our tracks. I see, I hear, I taste, I touch, I feel. How I interact with that, if I am lucky enough, should be to again and again marvel at the ability to cultivate that awareness

Giving people our faces, time and thoughts is one of the most powerful things we can do. The podcast will share with you people who have been moved deeply by practice. People whose stories are meaningful.

Stories will always continue. Jenny’s story at the beginning of this article is just one cog in the turning of her life. That we continue to listen to each other as we navigate this is deeply important and personally profound.

I hope you enjoy the conversations I navigate in the podcast. All are a deep part of the fabric of who I am.

* Names have been changed for privacy purposes.

The post How conversations move us appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

On 8th March 2019 Stillpoint Yoga London celebrated its 10th birthday. Apart from my marriage to Louise and becoming a father, running Stillpoint has had the greatest effect on me as a person. It has shaped me completely.

With all the travelling I do, and retreats and workshops I’ve had the honour of teaching at, it’s this day-to-day work over weeks, months and years that is the most profound for me. I’ve realised teaching yoga is about turning up for someone. Being present again and again so they can trust you’re there for them.

Stillpoint Yoga London is my home. Where the deepest work has happened and continues to. Teaching in the middle of a city, creating a space for people to reflect on their lives before they start their day, is so, so valuable. It’s practising in the eye of the storm. Our job is to help people meet and transcend whatever their storms turn out to be, with as much kindness to themselves as they can.

To all of you who I’ve had the privilege to share space with over the past 10 years: thank you. It’s been such an honour. I hope I’ve helped in some way.

Here are some memories and things I’ve learned along the way…

Awaken yourself awaken others

10 years. It feels like only yesterday that we opened our doors. The two of us, Ozge (Oz) and I, embarking on a journey of discovery together, seeing what’s possible if we collaborated on a shared vision:

Awaken Yourself Awaken Others.

That was the first ever Stillpoint tagline. That was what it was about for us. To be present to ourselves so we can then be present for others. We were so excited as the first student walked in, both trying to hold back as that one student practised on that first day. Not wanting to overwhelm David with two teachers eager to help him.

A shared vision

10 Years. Those early years were about helping each other. Oz and I both had full time jobs. Stillpoint was set up out of love and we’d both go to work after it closed. Still, there was work to do. Oz had this great plan because she knew I personally had so much to do outside of Stillpoint. She saw that I had a full time job, and needed to support Louise and our 3 young boys. So we agreed that she would do all the admin and correspondence while I would just turn up and teach. But because she had such a travel bug, I would cover for her when she went away. I covered a lot… It worked perfectly and allowed me to create a deeply held morning routine that I still hold dear today. It also helped that Louise and the boys loved Oz dearly.

Embedding our teachers

10 Years. We also saw the benefit of bringing our teachers in to meet our students. We hosted workshops quite quickly after we opened our morning classes. We would only invite teachers who we knew and loved already. John Scott and Lucy Crawford came to teach (2009), as did David Keil (2010) and Swami Nityamuktananda Saraswati. All dear, all loved.

This was a lovely way of embedding our own teachers into the fabric of Stillpoint. This way of having our teachers support us taught us so much. It’s the way in which we continue to invite to this day. Now we have Manju, Greg, Kia and others too, all who embody the spirit of our morning classes. Having teachers who are aligned with our principles of support, nurturing and kindness. It’s also what compels me to travel to like-minded studios and shalas today. To support their work like mine was and still is supported.

Remembering the changes

10 Years. So many ways of helping others. I remember John Scott saying to me, “You have to be able to teach 1000 people the same thing in 1000 different ways”. This statement is so true. I remember it every time I meet someone new, or re-engage with someone again. Seeing that even though you’re still teaching that one thing, the nuances of Ashtanga yoga are endless. That every practice is different and to always remember the changes that occur in every moment, whether gross or subtle. Being able to respond to those changes is key. ‘Everything changes, nothing stays the same’ is a mantra that has been ongoing for me since 2012. It rings true in every moment.

Meeting with kindness

10 years. Countless students. Countless ways that I myself have been taught by others turning up. But everyone met, I hope, with a smile and a welcome. These things were important to us both, right from the beginning. They hold true now. People have given over their precious time to spend with us. The least we could do was offer kindness, warmth and a soft, gentle way to use the practice of Ashtanga yoga to connect them to their bodies in ways that made sense to them. This was the way we met practitioners then, when we were two. This is how I hope we meet them now, when there are more teachers teaching.

Accepting our story

10 Years. Realising that connecting with the teachers that I have over the years, and with each practitioner who has come, has been enough for me. Especially when it comes to sharing this beautiful practice I hold so dear. This is just what I know and this is how I help. This is how I have evolved to teach this method. I like to think that the work we have done here at SYL has been of service to the ongoing story of Ashtanga yoga in our culture. That not being connected to the ‘tradition’ has been okay and I’ve had wonderful support from my countless friends, teachers and mentors. We’ve just not come from where it’s been ‘traditionally’ supposed to have come. And I’m okay with that. I think our students are too. I have deep gratitude for the place we find ourselves. And ultimately, how we help others.

Keeping the spirit alive

10 Years. Only a few teachers. Those who have taught at SYL have come through the ranks of SYL or my life somehow. Maria, Lee, Laura, Rachel, Siobhan, Hinako, Andy, Narmin, Claire, Wendy, Sarah, Alain, Caroline, Havva. All have played their part in keeping the spirit of the SYL room alive and kicking. Because that is what SYL has always been about. Spirit.

Evolving the community

10 years. Different places. Being able to grow slowly in central London was pivotal. The original Guys building we were in between 2009 and 2016 was a bit grubby but oh so vital for us to establish ourselves. That place was sent from above… To have access to so many rooms allowed for us to expand slowly over that time. Moving from that place was hard but it had served us so well. I’m proud of all our practitioners who were able to move with us when we had to change venues. To continue to just turn up and practise quietly, absorbing the feel of our SYL community into any new space we found, shows what we have is so special.

The power of being present

10 Years. Two people at the start. One left now. I remember Oz’s bright endearing laugh. She’d smile with her eyes. We’d laugh excitedly just to see where we’d be in a few years’ time. There was such potential with that one. Such a great loss to the world. And that’s why we are at 10 years. When she died in 2012 I didn’t know what to do or how to move. How to be. But after the incredible wave of support from our community and teachers I vowed to continue. To just turn up each morning and continue. Meeting people, helping people, being there for people. Being so mindful of the impact of my practice and how it impacts others. Because that’s what this work is really about. Being truly present for others. And getting out of your own way while doing it.

Never stop beginning

When we began 10 years ago, on 8th March 2009, it didn’t cross our minds that there would only be one of us left 10 years later. We were just excited to begin.

And that’s why SYL is 10. When Ozge died I also vowed to never stop beginning again. To never stop thinking like it’s the first time I’m meeting someone. Because that’s where the power is. That’s where the magic lies.

And that’s how Ozge continues to live. That’s how she continues to dance with us. It’s how Stillpoint has always danced. Through all the people who come.

The question I’ve always offered is: How will you continue to dance…?

The 10 things I’ve learned in 10 years

Awaken yourself, awaken others

Help each other

Support your students

Remember ‘Everything changes, nothing stays the same’

Offer kindness to all

Have deep gratitude for where you find yourself

Spirit evolves from people coming together with a shared purpose

Community is everything

Being truly present in your practice and life is key

Never stop beginning again

The post Teaching Ashtanga yoga – 10 years on.. appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

Taking stock

At the end of another year it feels good to take stock.

If ever there was a year that defined an Ashtanga yoga generation, 2018 was it. The revelations around the sexual misconduct of K. Pattabhi Jois rocked those of us who hold dear the practice of Ashtanga yoga and those who teach it.

As part of the #metoo campaign last year, Karen Rain delivered a powerful and telling blow to the credibility of our practice with her courageous statement. Rain’s statement ignited a conversation that for many years had seemed to be happening in the shadows, under the radar. Statements by other women, including Jubilee Cooke, followed. Anekke Lucas had already written an article in 2016 pointing to abuse by Jois.

Throughout this year more and more women shared experiences at the hands of Jois that put our practice under the spotlight – a spotlight that predominantly placed trust and accountability at the forefront. It felt so important to acknowledge Rain, Lucas and all the other women who had been brave enough to raise their voices.

Self reflection in the face of challenge

Being a teacher of Ashtanga yoga, it has been a challenging time for me. Carrying on as normal didn’t seem the thing to do.

I have self reflected on my role as an Ashtanga yoga teacher all year. How was I actually being with the practitioners at my shala, Stillpoint Yoga London? How was I really meeting them? Was I assisting them in a way that really benefited them? Was I being clear with the adjustments I was using? Were these adjustments really helping? Most importantly, were they needed and were people open to receiving them?

This self reflection also included my being a growingly confident creator of blogs and articles. I lost my voice for a while. After I wrote Listen Without Prejudice I went quiet. What could I share about Ashtanga yoga that wouldn’t feel contrived or pointless in the current climate? I didn’t really know what to say, I didn’t know how to be. I needed to go quiet so I could take the time to see how to respond. It moved me to a place where I felt I had to question why and how I did things. The things I had always done without thinking.

Interestingly, though, I realised that this vulnerability and being held to account is actually a good thing for me. I need to be challenged. I need to feel challenged in my role as a yoga teacher so I can serve the practitioners I support in a healthier and ever more transparent way. So that there could be a response to the voices of Karen, Anneke and others, rather than carrying on as if they didn’t exist.

Ashtanga as a force for change

A few people had told me to not think about it, to forget about it. That the students who come to us now won’t know who Jois was, so we can keep teaching the practice as it is,  with nothing changing. But I realised, that’s not the point. It is about the students who are yet to come. But it’s also about acknowledging the past students who were hurt, mistreated and abused. It’s about remembering and showing solidarity to them so that the practice can move forward in a way that holds not only the voices of the victims, but of those who want Ashtanga yoga to be a force for change. To see that the guru culture may actually be to blame for cultivating the silence in what happened with Jois. To see that by acknowledging and learning from the victims of Jois we can create a more open, receptive and kinder dialogue within Ashtanga yoga. To meet people as a response to this.

Ashtanga yoga is a tool. It’s a way of seeing the world through the awareness of the movement of your body with the relationship of the breath. When taught in a way that lands with the needs of a student it is an incredibly powerful practice. It is empowering. It empowers.

What I’ve learned this year

I feel my job is to empower. To give power to the students who come to SYL and the workshops and retreats I undertake. To get out of the way of their own personal learning and discovery. To this end I’ve included below a few things I’ve learned that have helped me shift my teaching role into a more considered, responsive and compassionate approach.

Rebuilding trust with the practice
Being available to students who have concerns about Ashtanga yoga, being open to be challenged on my own views and behaviour, and learning from where I’ve perhaps fallen down. Importantly, creating space to be with students as they are challenged and letting them know clearly where I stand and where I am coming from.

Meeting each other as people
Not seeing that practitioners are there for me but that I’m here for them. I continuously check in with my privilege, seeing that I’m not imposing my own will or the will of the practice on them. That I’m here to facilitate their personal learning. That the practice fits into their lives.

Establishing real consent in adjustments
A real understanding about adjustments. Importantly, understanding why an adjustment is needed and talking someone through the process as it’s happening. Allowing full consent for the student, so that they’re completely involved in the relationship as an adjustment happens and can say ‘no’ at any point. Importantly, that saying no is not a personal slight, but an understanding that I am not needed. I understand that the power belongs to the student.

The Mysore style practice is still where the magic is, both as a personal practice and in a shala
That the self practice method of Ashtanga yoga can still be one of the most beautiful and delicate ways of learning the practice of yoga. It’s brought me closer to the practitioners at SYL. I try to consider every single thing when it comes to helping someone. Hopefully this helps a practitioner to learn and deepen their practice through me being more considerate and compassionate. The relationship and trust you can develop with a student through this style of teaching is still to me one of the great boons of this method. But it has to be earned.

Learning that mindfulness is an evolution of practice, not more postures
That being more mindful is never a bad thing. Slowing down, taking extra breaths, and being kind to yourself are all attributes that can really support the development of this practice in your life. There’s no rush. There is only this breath…

That a student has ultimate control of their body
Eventually I get out of the way. A person’s body is their own. No is no, and there is no real need for me to be involved unless asked. And ask. Always.

Rediscovering the voice

So, I see 2018 as the year I lost my voice.

I see it also as the year Ashtanga yoga found a voice that had been kept quiet. The voice of Karen, Anneke, Jubilee and many others. Those voices will always continue to be so important to listen to.

We believe we’ve been helping to support these voices, with this year’s Spring Gathering and the soon to be announced Amayu Yoga. We hope a new voice in Ashtanga yoga is being found, with us here at SYL and elsewhere within the community.

The post Empowerment as a way forward in Ashtanga yoga appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

It’s the beginning of 2012, nearly 3 years since we opened our yoga space, and I’m sitting quietly at Stillpoint Yoga London. There are flowers in front of me, surrounding the picture of a woman looking softly, directly, through the frame. She has kind eyes. Candles burn and the delicate fragrance of incense fills the air. The silence is palpable, cut only by the soft sounds of tears being shed by others behind me. Our dear friend, colleague and teacher Ozge Karabiyik had died the night before. We have come together to make some sense of it. Together. I look into those kind eyes and gently close my own. In the darkness I turn toward my own version of grief as I understand it, in that moment. I wrestle with the knowledge that I will never physically see Ozge again. She is now a memory.

I grapple with the confusion that ensues, turning the inner turmoil over and over until I can’t really stand it anymore. I try to go quiet and I do. In the silence, a voice appears. It’s hers. “It’ll all be okay,” she says in that joyful infectious way she always did.

It captures me. Her voice seems so clear. It’s not what I thought I would hear, I think.

I’m supposed to break. To feel like the world is caving in.

I smile.

It’s not what I’d thought I’d do. But the clarity of that voice belies my emotional state. It moves me to action. I take a punt on what I’m supposed to do in this situation and turn around.

Sitting with vulnerability

I spend time with each one of the people there. They are all students of ours from Stillpoint and have come to sit with their own version of grief. I speak softly with them. Listening. I sit, hearing every one of their words as closely as I can, then I offer my perspective of holding on to whatever Ozge represented to them. If we hold that close, she still lives on in our lives.

The action I take that morning becomes the framework in which I move Stillpoint forward. What can we learn from experiences we have that can shape our lives? Can a practice really help us to change the way we see the world? Can I wake up to this life right now, with all its intricacies? We continue. As a response to Ozge passing, Stillpoint became about how we ourselves could feel more alive and listen deeper to the people who came to us. Yes, we teach traditional Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga in a way that really helps, in a way that twas taught to us and to our own teachers. But is there more we could do?

The big retreat

We share yoga at SYL in a busy city in which people can lead busy and stressful lives. There can be so much distraction that personal sensation, embodiment and focus can become dissociated. We can identify ourselves as the work we do, the roles we have in life, as the emotions we feel, and we can see our place in things based on the circumstances of this world. These perceptions at times are needed for us to be able to navigate life. But, they can overtake our lives so much that we become defined by them. What if we could identify as something other than these patterns? Something else. Something not yet known. Moving into this new awareness can take courage. Courage because we are moving into the unknown.

The late Michael Stone used to share this Zen poem in his workshop (as he did when he came to teach at SYL):

The small retreat is to go and practice in the woods, the rivers, the fields. The big retreat is to go and practice in the city.

What if practice never stopped?

SYL became about how people can actually meet their lives and see how they can wake up to their lives through a dedicated ongoing yoga practice. It’s our view that practice never really stops. Like the Ashtanga yoga practice, in life there is always another breath to fall into. Another breath to notice. We see this as the practice. But, creating a bridge between practice ending and life outside of practice starting, allows for there to be a division created between ‘my yoga practice’ and life. We began to ask the question, ”What if practice never stopped? What would that look like, feel like?”

This is all eight limb stuff, right? Ultimately, though, Stillpoint became about truly meeting people with kindness. About listening to them. About not taking over their lives with dogmatic ideas about what’s right or wrong but allowing them to wake up to their own inner voice, all within the framework of developing a disciplined physical yoga practice based on breath awareness. This has become our default position. This has become the Stillpoint practice. The Stillpoint way. Listening. So that we ourselves can remember to listen.

Practice. Community. Life.

For me, and in my experience, practice and community have been integral in developing a life that has meaning. In the aftermath of Ozge’s passing, all of us in the SYL community continued coming together in practice and friendship to hold each other. We found solace in reminding each other of her life by coming together in practice. We need something that helps us navigate the world in a way that keeps us embodied and to notice the vulnerabilities of our lives. Contemplative practices such as yoga and mindfulness allow us to feel, sense and relate to the word and all its relationships. From moment to moment.

Michael Stone also said:

“All of this stuff – meditation, therapy, pharmaceuticals – is bullshit without friendship. You can’t heal all by yourself. In no culture did anybody heal by him or herself; you can’t do it alone.”

Community and friendship helped me to see my own strengths, nourish them and ultimately hold myself beyond it. They helped me to navigate SYL beyond the tragedy of loss. The loss of Ozge. There was support and connection in shared practice so that away from this space I was able to hold a continued sense of practice myself. This helped me so much. To be able to look after myself and feel that strength beyond our community was so rich. It meant so much. It’s why nurturing a community spirit became a deep part of my work and the SYL identity. It’s obvious, but in this life, we can never be apart from others.

Yes, we live this life as an individual, but we do so in a world of relationship. We never truly know what is going to happen. We only know that we have ourselves, the people we bump into through our lives and those experiences to reflect on. Doing so with the utmost awareness is, I feel, one of the main reasons we continue practising through the years.

The post Coming together: Nurturing a yoga community appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

When I started a dedicated yoga practice I was 29 and already a father. On the second to last day of a family holiday in Sydney, Australia, I found an Ashtanga yoga class. I walked away from that class feeling deeply moved. I had connected to something in myself that felt so so precious. After the class I met Louise, my wife, and picked up our 6 month old son, Herbie. He looked even more radiant. They both looked even more radiant. This was what it felt like to be connected. Who knew I’d embarked on a practice that would fundamentally alter the shape and direction of my life? That I’d eventually begin to see relationship and shared experience as another path to waking up?

Present day, early June 2017: Here I am celebrating a sixteenth birthday with the same Herbie, wistfully looking at his baby picture I still have in my wallet, while also taking in the fine young man he’s become. It’s a cliché, something you can really experience as a parent, but time does go so so quickly. Yet something else came to me too. Perhaps I could continue to look at him and how he’s grown and at the same time extend beyond seeing the young man Herbie has become, and take a look at the person I’ve become since that first Ashtanga yoga class in Sydney.

You see, my yoga practice is near enough the same age as Herbie, and anyone who’s held their hand to the fire of Ashtanga yoga knows that when you take on this practice there really can be no half measures. We are a devoted bunch. Herbie also has two brothers, Noah and Ethan, both born within 5 years of him. So not only have I been developing a yoga practice, but with Louise I’ve been growing a large family too.

Developing a sustained yoga practice and a family are both things that take time, discipline, courage and a sense of the unknown. Deep commitment is required. I have done my best to navigate both of these together and you can read more about this in an interview I gave for Ashtanga Brighton on Ashtanga practice and fatherhood.

Yoga and fatherhood: what I’ve learned

Importantly, and in relation to yoga practice, I have found many of my yoga teachers, peers and colleagues spent years developing their yoga practices first before they had families. I had to hold down a full time job, help grow a family of five, yet at the same time develop a spiritual, contemplative practice from scratch. Was there a difference in what I did, compared to my friends who already had strong practices before starting a family? Fifteen years into practice, what do I feel I have learned by doing both at the same time? These are a few of the things that I’ve noticed.

Intimacy

Intimacy is being up close with love. There is a shared intimacy in family. There is deep intimacy in spiritual practice. Intimacy requires honesty and an ability to dig deeper into yourself. To find new places that are unclear in you and to give of yourself. I have noticed in my experience of family that intimacy is shared. This means being able to balance the shared needs and intimacies between each member of the family. Finding that balance is tricky, especially when you have four other family members to negotiate. There are relationships with the individuals that need to be nourished as well as the whole family itself.

But with spiritual practice intimacy is personally cultivated, meaning cultivating love, truth and honesty within yourself. This is so valuable. Just as there can be many family members, there can be many sides to us as individuals. We need to be intimate with these sides so we can be up close to them with love.

Being able to meet our own intimacy and family intimacy together, we can continue to develop deep love for ourselves and each other.

Truth and honesty

Cultivating truth and honesty within ourselves is not easy. Things may come up. In fact, things will come up and we may not like what we find. But taking that intimacy and being open, allowing our practices to navigate these areas, allows them to be known and met. This is so valuable because we can then meet our families with this same truth and honesty. Learning to adapt to the needs of a family is a great way of learning to be true and honest to ourselves.

I’ve dropped the ball a few times. But the shared intimacy and relationships cultivated within the family have allowed for love to be present. Things can break down, but with a shared understanding of each other, with honest and open hearts, they have the ability to adapt and transform, and move into a new, more open, space together.

Nurturing

Just as we’re there for our families as they grow and change, and we watch them take their first steps in navigating new relationships, so we see our practice in the same way. Nurturing a yoga practice, like a family, is a long game. But the wider picture of both yoga practice and family is growth, support, love and encouragement. We need all of these things.

Nurturing our practice the same way we can nurture family is to see that we ourselves are always changing. We age. Our circumstances change. Being open to the shifting sands of time, navigating with openness to our own spiritual progress, allows us to stay present to our own versatility, something we need to negotiate this world of relationship with. Having a nurturing quality to our yoga practice allows kindness to be always present. Gentleness too. As if we were taking care of our own.

Hope and faith

What is left? Why are we here to share intimately in the growth and development of each other? Because we want the best for our loved ones. For each of them. We want them to integrate and live the life they have to the fullest. To be able to continue in the open development of themselves and be the best they can be while living this life. We can create hope for them. Hope that they are open and available to find the joy that can be present in this life. Hope that they can go on to meet this life with meaning, abundance and openness, and create the faith and belief in themselves to find this.

And this is the same for our yoga practice too. We can nurture these qualities in ourselves. To see the potential in ourselves. To notice that life is ever changing but that faith in our own process, the process of intimate connection, is what makes this life stronger, more potent. That as we set the qualities of intimacy, truth, honesty and nurturing for our families, so we set the tone of these qualities for ourselves too. That these tones can create the hope in our own lives.

Present day, late June 2017: I’m in the kitchen making tea after coming in late from a class. Herbie comes in, says hello and gives me a gentle hug. A sixteen year old boy, giving his dad a hug. I hold him a little tighter, close my eyes and breathe it in…

The post Navigating both a yoga practice and a family appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

Writing the SYL blog when there is such raw uncertainty in the world is always a challenge for me. I’m aware that you may want to know about yoga related things, but when there are major national and international incidents going on it’s hard to turn away. However, I personally feel that yoga practice and the world are deeply inter-related and that yoga practice has the power to transform how we relate to all of life. From our own internal dilemmas to the dilemmas the wider world has to face.

Connecting in nature

We can use yoga practice to reach deeper into this human life. Our ongoing practical relationships with our physicality, feelings, emotions and ever-more subtle areas of experience mould each of us into a more sensory experiencing individual. We then get to move like this within the framework of all the connections we have with this world. Through practice we can begin to see ourselves as part of an incredibly complex, intimate, yet utterly beautiful pattern of nature. When we connect with this nature in us we can then notice that others have this same innate nature too, and perhaps see that we are a community of people cohabiting on this planet together. Cohabiting with others of the same nature.

We share experiences. We share lives. Yoga practice is as much about our relationship with others’ nature as it is about our own, and practice begins with recognising our own intimate beauty. If we do recognise it we can then see the beauty outside of ourselves, whilst continuing to notice and nurture the beauty within. So how can we develop this? How can we relate in this way?

A meeting of nervous systems

On the recent Spring Gathering in May that I taught with Greg Nardi and Kia Naddermier, a fellow teacher and participant Jess likened teaching yoga to two nervous systems meeting each other. Not people meeting, but nervous systems meeting. I’ve contemplated this since and I feel it has real value. If we can meet each other on this level we can relate to something deeper than character and ego. We can meet each other in natural relationships and perhaps feel something deeper going on. Because it is for us. Connecting on this sensory level allows us to get underneath the stories and viewpoints in our lives and connect as human beings.

Then if we work from the main principle of yoga, ahimsa (do no harm), we can begin to really listen inside and see how we can act in the world. And then how we can integrate with society, culture and politics so that we have choices in how we align our principles with those of others.

Communities without walls

In uncertain times it helps to recognise and establish these ideas and principles. We do relate through politics, society and culture as a national and global community and we should remember we are fortunate to live in a culture in which we have the choice, freedom and liberty to hold these ideals. When anything happens to make us feel vulnerable we naturally hold each other tighter and come together with those we know and recognise in solidarity, perhaps just for a moment. We use our communities to make sense of each other whilst navigating the world beyond the community. But how can we create communities with no walls, so that everyone can be part of the same one? How can we expand communities that are rich, inclusive, adaptable and based on the principles of love or ahimsa?

My dear mindfulness teacher, Cathy Mae Keralse, wrote to our mindfulness community, Clear Mind Institute, last week after the traumatic event in Manchester (which has since been turned into a blog) and she included these words:

“Courage, compassion and community naturally emerge at times of trouble. We seem instinctively charged to want to help alleviate the pain and suffering – the human spirit appears glorious and defies the social constructs that otherwise divide.

Atrocities and catastrophes shake up our world and commonly prompt us into action. As part of a longer-term response, one of the things we can do is to educate ourselves. To listen to people who talk about creating a better world for all. To listen to leaders who talk of love. To fathom how we might use our skills and talents through actions that give expression to our thoughts and words, our vision.”

The heart of yoga

I believe the heart of yoga practice, and life, is basic goodness, love and generosity. As they evolve in our lives these are the things that we can share, and the fruits of our practice we can give away in helping others. This is a place we can move from. How can our practice increase the love we have for our own hearts? Our practice needs to be about the evolution of our compassion for ourselves and the world and the ability to hold everyone we meet with the same love and tenderness we would want to be held with ourselves. If we share love in the world, surely that means we want to be loved ourselves in the same way.

With the many many different viewpoints around us, how can we hold ourselves accountable? By continuing to practice in a way that shines our own light. Cultivating our own hearts through ethical conduct, balance and imagination allows us to connect with things in us that shine. This then allows us to connect with the hearts of others, and others with us.

It’s not easy, but it’s possible. With practice.

The post How can yoga transform our relationship with life? appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

“Write a blog,” my friend Guy from Wildheart Media said. “It’ll be great, you’ll be good at it.”

It’s now been a year since I started a blog about our work here at Stillpoint Yoga London. It’s been a very interesting time to start a blog and a very interesting year too. I thought I would offer this particular post as a reflection of what I’ve learned over the last year and also off the back of one of our most successful blog posts yet – our interview with Anthony ‘Prem’ Carlisi.

Uncertain times

When I began the blog, in June 2016, I didn’t know that I would be learning the ropes during the most politically unstable time we’ve had in many, many years. But that’s how the year turned out and became one of the craziest years in my lifetime. What first began as conveying what we do at SYL and how we try to help, together with sharing a beautiful interview from my friend and fellow Mysore yoga teacher Kia Naddermier, turned into ‘how does our practice help us to meet the world when structures we live through suddenly become incredibly unbalanced?’ (see Is this the new normal and How to create fierce compassion for the world).

Overcoming obstacles

Writing a blog has been harder than I thought. In fact, I’ve personally found that writing regular content is a skill that has to be honed (this very post has taken me to the deadline to get finished!). The process goes something like this: finding regular topics, procrastinating, then comparing myself to other blog writers who I see as far superior in expression and feeling incredibly self-conscious compared to them (I’m looking at you Peg Mulqueen and Theodora Wildcroft). Let alone actually putting myself onto the world wide web and sharing my views on yoga and the world. All these things can play out when you’ve committed to sharing something about yourself and it can actually stop you from putting any words onto paper or the screen itself. This is what has stopped me in the past.

Yet, here’s the thing. There are so many people sharing their own personal viewpoints about yoga, about what it means to them, how it’s moved them, what they have learnt and what they want you to learn. Perhaps they all felt like me at some point: vulnerable and self-conscious about pressing ‘publish’, ‘send’ or ‘share’ for something they have created and written. Isn’t putting myself out there just me being another voice in the field and hoping that what I share perhaps connects with you in some way? We all have to start somewhere. And that’s part of what I connected with. Just start somewhere. Just start now.

So I thought I’d share a little of why I started this blog and, importantly, what I’ve learnt after a year of sharing pieces that I felt had value.

Why did I start this blog?

1. Because I felt that the way we share yoga here at SYL, and also the connections I had made, could be communicated beyond the physical space that we hold for people every day.

We work with many people and each person we meet has such a rich personal history of life that brings them to the point of connection with us. When we come to a yoga class, yoga centre or yoga retreat we are all in one way or another saying, “I’d like to see how this yoga practice can help me.” So we try to help. A Mysore room is limited though, with the time you have with practitioners and what you can express to the group. However, there are many, many individual connections and collaborative ideas that go unnoticed, but are based on real people having real relationship breakthroughs with themselves. It’s these breakthroughs and ideas that I can hopefully plant into people’s practices through the expression in my articles.

2. Because I felt more comfortable in my ability to convey what practising and teaching yoga means to me and to share it beyond the Stillpoint walls

After Ozge, co-founder of SYL, died at the beginning of 2012 I got my head down and focused on just teaching the existing community and all those who joined us. No frills. It was about nurturing the community. We were, and always have been, a room in a college where we hold space for other people to allow something to happen in their lives. The loss of Ozge changed me as a teacher and a practitioner. It made me see human vulnerability and the deep preciousness of life. But more importantly it showed me the power this practice has of waking us up. Really waking us up to life. Over the past few years I’ve noticed how much I’m being moved by the way we’re helping and the impact of that help. Sharing this movement was a natural next step for me.

3. Because it pushed me out of my comfort zone

It allowed me to not stand still and to share my voice in a different arena and, though challenged by that, I felt that I was ready to meet it. The internet is still a very vulnerable place to express yourself, but I feel that our yoga community has strength in its ability to listen and perhaps absorb each other’s’ voices. If there was any community to learn to blog in, then it’s this one. With Brexit and the Trump presidency we also had practitioners at SYL who were directly affected by these political waves and I felt that I couldn’t turn away from mentioning these as they arose. Not shying away from the conversation allowed me to see how these world events and yoga practice may meet. This felt uncomfortable but necessary.

4. Because I was encouraged

When you have people behind you it helps. I had my friend Guy from Wildheart Media, who had encouraged me in the first place, on my back to produce something every month. There’s nothing like being given a deadline to hold you to account. I also had friends and fellow bloggers who were happy to help, edit and proofread. Theodora Wildcroft has been a great resource for a few of the articles. With this encouragement comes the ability to start trusting in what you’ve written.

5. Because quite quickly after starting the blog I found creativity in me that I hadn’t touched for decades.

What came up as a response to writing a blog? The best thing – a profound and deep enjoyment in finding the ability to write again. In the English language. In communicating something meaningful. In being a student of words. Just words. In seeing how words could become an expression of my unique viewpoint of the world. I discovered a voice that I thought was lost since I was a child at school and I remembered that English classes was where I had thrived. I discovered that I so enjoyed sharing things in words, I became inspired by other writers. I found that I had always been inspired by other writers. I lost myself to the practice and creativity of writing. It’s been transformational. Part of me is sad for the lost years, in seeing what could have been if I had continued writing and not gone off the rails. But mainly, I am emboldened at finding it again. The creativity it offers. Seeing what comes.

The connection between yoga and creativity

And you know what? My yoga practice has led me to all of this.

My yoga practice has been at the base of this discovery. I had to move into something deeper in myself to see that there was creativity waiting to arise. To be able to rediscover this dormant part of me has been me reconnecting with this part of myself. Of nurturing communication and language that I can understand and resonate with through an inquisitive process. Which has also led to trust. Trust in the process. And trust in myself that I can share something in a way that resonates, that I feel I can stand by because it’s based on a truth. My personal, ongoing, discoverable truth.

If that works for you then I hope you enjoy what I have to offer. If not, then keep searching. The world wide web is an awfully big place. You’re bound to find something that resonates, somewhere.

The post 5 things I’ve learned from starting a yoga blog appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

2016 – what a year that was! It seemed like the end of times and the beginning of times all at the same time. I now find myself here at the end of the year writing a blog that was to be a retrospective look at the past year, with a working title of Looking Back, Looking Forward – What can our practice teach us about the next year for us? Then November 9th happened. With the turmoil and dismay surrounding the election of Donald Trump, that title seemed a little skewed. But then I wondered, can our practice teach us something about this?

Change can be tough

Really tough. Yet yoga can teach us that change is the one thing that is consistent and being open and fluid to that change is what we are practising for. But perhaps reflect on this: Changing ourselves is easy compared to change when you have to consider the whole street, whole town, whole country, whole nation, whole continent or even whole culture you live in. When seismic decisions that effect change are chosen by a great number of people, and black and white choices are the options, we start to see that perhaps we aren’t as in control as we thought we were. Or so we seem to have seen this year anyway.

When I look back at 2016 in ten years’ time, it will be so interesting to see how I see it. Only time will tell. At the moment though, both personally and collectively, here is how I’ve seen it play out.

SYL in 2016

My personal life this past year has been more productive than ever, but with the challenges increasing. At SYL we had to move from our home of 6 years (Room AR2 in Boland House). I found this personally challenging as there was so much history and beautiful energy in that room. It was hard to let go. We moved to a brand new facility in the same campus but, due to an increase in rent, had to put our prices up for the first time in 7 years.

On the flip side we had the busiest workshop summer season ever, with so many people coming to see us at SYL. We had our Summer at Stillpoint where practitioners met teachers like Manju Jois, David Keil, Philippa Asher, Greg Nardi and Kia Naddermier. And more people found us for morning practice than ever before.

I was personally also being asked to travel a lot more to meet yoga communities nationally and to share my experience of yoga practice. So 2016 was a big year of change for both SYL and myself.

The world in 2016

Collectively, though, many of us could say that the past year has been the most radical shift of any year we can remember. With the UK choosing Brexit and the US electing Donald Trump, it felt like times changed forever in a few moments. This shift has led me to a number of questions that I’ve been pondering this month:


Can we really turn away from what is happening in the world at the moment and carry on like we always have?

Can we say that the election of Trump and the movement towards what seems an inevitable hard Brexit is something that yoga practice can prepare us for?

Can our chanting ‘aum’ at the beginning of the day allow us to move in the world? Just by practising yoga have we done enough?

Can our yoga practice alone shield us from rising inequality, division in society and families, increased climate change and a media that increases its vitriol and divisiveness by the week?

Does looking after ourselves mean we can look after the world?

The answers to these questions seem to have changed over the year. Perhaps the ultimate question is:

What is our yoga practice now preparing us for?

I think those of us in the world who are householders, have families and are bringing up children, and those of us who care about living in a world where there can be compassion, aren’t able to distance ourselves from this. In 2016 we are living in countries where things are unravelling. Walls are falling down and new ones going up. Change is coming.

How can our practice help us to become more engaged and active in this new world? How can our yoga practice wake us up to inequality? And, as a leader of a community, what can I do?

A learning curve

Personally, I feel I’ve been on a great learning curve over the last few months in relation to the past year. I’ve never been more interested in learning about politics, I am learning what ‘alt-right’ actually means and how to push up against it and how the ‘overton window’ is affecting the way our viewpoint of the world and its narrative is twisted.

This is something I’ve had to do because it affects me and it will affect my children. And as I’ve moved into this new understanding, my mindfulness teacher has pointed me toward my own white privilege and the inequality that is already systematic in our society and our culture. Even yoga culture. At times it has left me feeling overwhelmed and a little vulnerable. But at the same time humbled.

So, how can we tie this all back to a yoga practice, a yoga room, a yoga community? I ask again:

How can our practice help us to become more engaged and active in this new world?

Yoga practice

I’ve always tried to create SYL as a sanctuary – somewhere people can come to create a little space in their lives at the beginning of the day; supported to look a little deeper with the help of experienced and embodied teachers. And I do this so that people can learn that they can ultimately do this for themselves.

For me this is the incredible beauty of the Ashtanga yoga Mysore self-practice method, which we share at SYL. It’s a practice you can return to. A practice to measure yourself against, not as a sequence of postures but as a moving, embodied, relatable experience of breath, body and mind. To see where the imbalance of these three things lie and to train how to re-balance them.

Any yoga studio is just an empty room in a building where people come together and an intention is created – the intention of mindful, compassionate interaction with yourself. You can create this intention anywhere. And that’s powerful. We create the space so that people can discover, learn and nurture their own compassionate power.

Equanimity leads to compassion

In this recent podcast that I contributed to, where Peg Mulqueen from Ashtanga Dispatch interviewed my teacher and friend John Scott, John spoke of the four Brahma Viharas. These are Karuna (compassion), Mudita (Joy), Upeksha (Equanimity) and Maitri (Love). The conversation was rich in metaphor and story which, if you know John, is a very warm experience. But what Peg really connected to was the idea of equanimity.

John explained that in our little lineage that connects us back to Guruji we mirror the ability to be equal with one another. So we can help each other. John can help me and I can help John. That we as teachers are not teaching people but helping to introduce people to themselves.

“I have to introduce the student to their own teacher.” – John Scott (35:23)

Then we can begin to develop compassion for ourselves. Then we can develop compassion for others.

Fierce compassion

I think currently, and more than ever, we need to nurture and create that steady compassionate power in all of us. We need to be able to do this so we can meet the incredible challenges that are coming up in our societies and the increased impact of global climate change.

We don’t know yet what these challenges will bring. But we must meet them. And with these big challenges we need to meet them with compassion. Fierce compassion. Fierce compassion for holding the flame for what is right and just, and fierce compassion for each other. Fierce compassion so that those who are leading hear not only the voices of those behind them, but are strongly held to account by those who aren’t.

Embracing the future

We practice with fierce compassion. For ourselves, so that we can help meet the challenges that we all face.

We engage as a community with fierce compassion so that we grow as people and stand together and not let fear, rage, hatred and negativity win.

We practice so that we can be of service not just to ourselves and our loved ones but to the wider world and humanity itself.

Let’s do this. Together.

Some recommended reading as a companion to this article, from which I found inspiration:

• An amazing call to arms from Theodora Wildcroft
• A Buddhist Monk explains mindfulness in times of conflict
• Hope is an embrace of the unknown: Rebecca Solnit on living in dark times

The post How to create fierce compassion for the world appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

‘Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.’ – Dalai Lama

In the UK at the moment the very fabric of our society is shifting literally hour by hour. Since the Leave vote came through as the democratic winner of the EU referendum on 24th June 2016, our country has been plunged into a crisis that many of us have never known. Our government is rudderless, split between a prime minister who took us to this precipice then subsequently resigned, and a new incoming prime minister who has no plan of where we are going. The opposition party (Labour) is splitting itself in two with major questions and doubts of whether its own leader has the nous to hold the Conservative government to task for their actions.

The EU now wants rid of us as quickly as possible and, chillingly, with each day the division in the country widens. Bigotry, hatred and racism are increasing by the hour all over the UK as the slow realisation of the slogan “Taking Our Country Back” that the Leave campaign adopted sinks in.

Times of uncertainty

I personally have felt incredibly vulnerable over the past few days, not really knowing what to do. It seems so much bigger than me. The whole country is changing right in front of me as I begin to contemplate something myself and no-one I know recognises.

This is a totally new paradigm to me and to many of my friends and family. A feeling of uncertainty and turmoil that seems to encapsulate the whole of the UK. It encompasses the fabric of the country I was born in and changes everything I thought I knew about society and my place in our integrated, connected world. With all this ongoing restlessness and instability I was noticing how perhaps I could get a very tiny sense of what it might be like to have to deal with the ongoing real threat that hangs over the people living in Syria. The war that is making those families want to leave their own country right now, as I write. A comparison it is not, but a very sense of complete unease about where I find myself here in this country it is, and being able to sit with compassion and understanding for those whose lives are truly in jeopardy is sobering.

There have been so many discussions with family and friends over the past few days but one particular communication stood out. I had a message from a colleague – a fellow yoga teacher – over the weekend. They wrote that:

“As yoga teachers we should accept, tolerate and work together at this time. That people should look up to us and we should set an example. That what happened was a democracy and the ability for people to exercise their vote.”

This really got me thinking. Now we find ourselves in this position, what do we need to do? And what does it mean to practice yoga in a time of such turbulence? How is my practice helping me see the world as it changes, one that is turning into something that I don’t recognise from only just last week? Is this how it is now going to be? Is this the new normal? If so, how do I now meet it? How do I act…?

As a response to the Paris attacks in November 2016, the Dalai Lama was quoted as saying:

“We cannot solve this problem only through prayers. I am a Buddhist and I believe in praying. But humans have created this problem, and now we are asking God to solve it. It is illogical. God would say, solve it yourself because you created it in the first place. We need a systematic approach to foster humanistic values, of oneness and harmony. If we start doing it now, there is hope that this century will be different from the previous one. It is in everybody’s interest. So let us work for peace within our families and society, and not expect help from God, Buddha or the governments.”

The Dalai Lama’s statement, I believe, is not about accepting, remaining tolerant or hoping that the current state of events that are unfolding will go away. This is about creating a human solution, or if not a solution then a way of being together as a community as we shift through this momentous time. The division in our society has come out into the open, we are beginning to see it. When we can see it, we can begin to work with it. Which means we can begin to work with each other.

Do you have a practice?

If so, how is your practice helping you at this time? If anything, I believe we need a personal practice so much at the moment. Whether it is yoga, meditation or some other embodied practice, it helps to ground us and be more awake to all the changes as they unfold in our lives. There is so much information/opinion coming our way at the moment and families and communities are split over this massive decision. I feel now, more than ever, that individually we need to cultivate the ability to pause and respond to situations rather than react. To be able to be open to each other.

This referendum decision has brought into light what was perhaps dark in our country. How can we now confront this? Perhaps when we practice we are not just practising for our own transformation. Perhaps we are practising so we can hope to change and perceive a different world. One where we can begin to work with our own discrimination and look to soften and let that go.

In the Bhagavad Gita (2/50) Krishna tells Arjuna that skill in action is Yoga. I think what Krishna is alluding to is that he means that your life is always action, that action is an inevitable part of human nature. If we accept we act, if we hate we act, if we love we act, if we do nothing we act… What we need to develop is the skill to be able to move through our lives with action that benefits the greater good, especially now. Skill begins with understanding how you are viewing the world, right now, and being with it so that you begin to recognise and shift patterns that don’t serve you.

Why I voted Remain

Personally, at the moment I am struggling to accept the outcome of this referendum. I voted Remain because I saw that working together as a continent was inclusive, that we could work collectively for the greater good and ultimately peace. My own 82-year-old father is devastated at this decision. Growing up through and after the second world war he saw why the EU was formed: to create peace in Europe. I know that the EU isn’t at all perfect but working within it could change it in the long term so that all could benefit and peace could continue…

Both sides of the referendum campaign were less than perfect in their rhetoric, but the Leave campaign, I felt, was bordering on hatred. Because of this we now find ourselves in a wilderness, with people sniping at each other and hostility growing. When you have far right parties like the French National Front, English Defence League and Britain First lauding your win, I believe something has gone drastically wrong. Plus, can the incredibly negative spin of both the Remain and Leave campaigns, and the media, now be a narrative on how not to lead people into decision making? This may take time to realise, but it must be pointed to and learned from…

Now, after the referendum, this is where we find ourselves.

As I look at the changing landscape that is playing out in this country, I have started to get the inkling of,

“Okay, if not this, what then is possible? What is possible if we are more open with each other?” 

It’s only an inkling, but it’s there. Now at SYL I encourage our community to be open to all people and to all views so that we can meet with each other in an open and honest way. To come together in the spirit of kindness, irrespective of our personal views.

Practising compassion

So at this time, it seems to me that in order to counteract the chaos and helplessness that some of us are feeling, it would help to be compassionate to each other, to listen to each other, to be open to one another. To want the world to be more beautiful, more vibrant than ever before. To have a personal practice to return to, because by practising it helps me engage with acting to make the world this more beautiful place I know it can be, and therefore not turning away from the challenge ahead. Because to turn away is to hide, to accept, to allow negativity to rise. This life is still incredibly beautiful, mysterious and wondrous and in the middle of it all I am a vulnerable, radiant, human being.

And perhaps too, allowing ourselves to be incredibly tender at this time, but always remembering to return to the ebb and flow of the breath. All our choices, all our actions, how we then move in the world, will stem from that place…

The post Is this the new normal? appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

“I know there is strength in the differences between us. I know there is comfort, where we overlap” – Ani Difranco

I truly love this work. I genuinely feel a deep sense of gratitude whenever I hear the squeak of the door each morning, meaning that someone else has come in to share a piece of themselves with us at SYL. I try to catch everyone before they start here. A wink, a smile, a gentle ‘good morning’ or a shared quiet laugh in the recognition that we find ourselves here again, another morning, on this gentle path to nowhere. Together.

As an Ashtanga yoga Mysore self practice shala, we support seasoned and experienced practitioners, are consistently introducing new people to the Ashtanga yoga practice, and assisting those who have a yoga practice but who maybe don’t have the confidence yet to be able to stand in a room and know what to do. That is what we do here at SYL. We support. We nurture. We encourage.

Meeting vulnerability

When you walk into a self practice yoga room for the first time it can bring up a lot of personal stuff that relates to how you feel you are seen. To stand in a room full of people and not know what to do can feel incredibly vulnerable. It’s from this place where we meet you as teachers. As teachers we are really just here to share. We have created as safe and neutral a space as possible from which to be able to share our love of a yoga practice, one that we have found to have had a great impact in our own lives. Sharing of ourselves is to help people nurture a way of looking and appreciating their own lives, perhaps in a similar way to how we have nurtured our own.

So the person who is standing there unable to move because of vulnerability is given support and a way to move through the breathing and physical practice of Ashtanga yoga. They are held and supported over the first few days as they get used to remembering the practice for themselves and then, as this new way of integration of body and mind takes hold, they are nurtured into looking after themselves in a way that supports their own development.

Those of us who have a long term practice all began in that room at some other time and in some other place. We began vulnerable, but with support we moved through that initial vulnerability to find something deeper. Vulnerability still occurs but yoga practice nurtures a way to be able to meet it with more depth and wisdom.

So why do we continue practising?

Yoga practice can easily become its own narrative concerned with clinging to our ideas about ourselves. What begins to move the conditions is that how I cling to practice allows me to see how I cling in life. Behind yoga practice lies the lessening or the falling away of a story and narrative that we have about ourselves.

As teachers we are so interested in how this aspect of a yoga practice unfolds. How a practice moves through someone, we feel, is perhaps a more delicate offering than how a practice can look. In Ashtanga yoga we can become overly concerned with form and its edges, precision and performance. Development of a mindful practice works to reinforce new directions so existing patterns can begin to be released. This shift in awareness then can be the cornerstone of our daily lives.

Our community

Our yoga community develops from the relationships we have with each other. By people coming and sharing their lives, they contribute to the community by just being here. Every single person who comes to practice supports and makes the community whole. In the yoga room everyone is breathing for everyone else. There is no dogma, just support for each other.

Stillpoint Yoga London is a space where people can actually find space. What I mean is space not only where people can come and practice but where people are allowed to seek it in their own lives and the lives of others. Stillpoint is an idea born from the minds of two people (myself and Ozge Karabiyik). The idea that through sharing, continuity and consistency we create a feeling, a sense and now a community of people coming to practice together. A space where both teachers and practitioners overlap.

Many people have said to me, particularly after they have just finished practising, that there is such a lovely energy in the SYL Mysore room. I say to each one not to forget that they are a personal part of the ongoing process, development and lineage of a simple yet life changing practice that not only benefits them but the world.

The post Supporting your practice appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.

By Scott Johnson

July 2017 Update: Hey, Scott here. As a response to the tragic passing of Michael Stone on 16th July 2017 I wanted to share a memory of one of the times he spent with us here at SYL. In 2014 I organised a viewing of the documentary Reactor, a film collaboration between Michael and filmmaker Ian Mackenzie, at a local Bermondsey cinema. Michael attended and afterwards talked about the film and held a Q&A regarding the film’s ideas and content. It was a lovely lovely evening. Below is a blog post I wrote about the event.

Michael will be sorely missed here at SYL. His spirit and teaching shone….

On Monday 17th Feb 2014 we hosted the first UK public screening of a short film called Reactor, a documentary made by the Canadian film maker Ian Mackenzie on the aftermath of the nuclear meltdown in Fukushima, Japan 2012. We had over 40 people come and join Michael Stone, Louise and myself for the evening. We rented a local independent cinema in Bermondsey called Shortwave so as to make it feel like a real premiere. The venue was lovely and we pretty much filled up all the seats in there.

Why did SYL host the first UK public screening of Reactor?

Stillpoint Yoga London hosted Reactor primarily because it features Michael Stone, a Canadian yoga and buddhist teacher, author and activist, who had come to SYL to run some classes the previous year in 2013. Michael was in the country at the time working and we asked him if he could extend his stay and be a guest at the event. He kindly agreed and it was such a pleasure to have him talk about the film and answer questions afterwards.

In the film, Michael takes a personal pilgrimage to Japan and while there he connects in with the country amid the aftermath of the nuclear meltdown that happened due to the tsunami. He brings his vast experience as a yoga practitioner and meditator to ask questions of how culture can move forward in the face of this manmade catastrophe. To realise that we are hitting critical points on so many levels as a planet and that we need to rediscover the meaning of connection to be able to move forward and live as a wider responsive society.

What is the film about?

The film is really about stories. About how we as a culture have grown to this point where we are living our lives out of consumerism, out of materialism and out of seeing ourselves as individual identities and cultural identities, a kind of ‘us without them’. This film asks us to see how we frame our perspectives, our viewpoints and to take a sideways look at how we have done things in the past and how we are doing things now, to see if there are other ways to evolve. There is an incredible ability and necessity to adapt as a race and the question that tragedies like this ask is: what are the possible alternatives that can be opened up so that we learn from mistakes rather than continue making them?

The nuclear issue is one that began, some would say, in Hiroshima and it’s an interesting part of the film when Michael visits there to learn from the past. What does that tragedy teach us about this one? Why do we continue to make the same mistakes and what can the future hold if we make different decisions?

Michael Stone, as a buddhist practitioner & teacher, has a wonderful way of framing the conversation into a contemplative narrative. As if the ideas and practices of contemplative traditions such as yoga and buddhism can be widened into a cultural ideology and framework of seeing how we relate to the world and how we can grow as a culture. He sees the world as intimacy, as everything being dependant on and part of everything else. This little film really takes the spirit of activism, of the need to be shaken and woken up to what we are doing to ourselves, and opens it up to seeing that maybe what is needed is a cultural connected coming together of humanity to begin to ask bigger questions of how we evolve, including the ecology/environment and not as a separate entity to it.

Reacting to the awakening

The name of the film ‘Reactor’ also has a double meaning. As well as being about the nuclear reactors it also is about ourselves becoming reactors. Reactors to what is going on in our worlds, about becoming awake and reacting to that awakening. It seems that that’s what this world needs more of.

What we were left with was that Michael didn’t have any answers but had a deeper commitment to understanding how practice can wake us up to what is going on and to keep asking the important questions of how we as a culture can change.

Michael gave a talk plus a Q&A at the end of the screening. One of the loveliest insights was that he and Ian had been arguing about how the film would turn out. Michael wanted activism, Ian wanted stories. The stories won, but is there an activist account still to be made? Who knows. Perhaps we should watch this space…

Ian Mackenzie has made a wonderful little film and I urge you to see it. You can watch the film here:

REACTOR (2013) from Ian MacKenzie on Vimeo.

Michael Stone’s work can be found here.

The post You Need To Be A Reactor appeared first on Stillpoint Yoga.