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Hands on abdomen area and lower back: Warming up this area with hands – rubbing, massaging, and awakening. At first I become aware of how little I am breathing. I then attempt to breathe more deeply, and after some struggle, I remember that the point, and indeed the beauty of this work, is to find and encourage one’s own breath, to find where it is, and listen into it, and then encourage it into more of the body. Not to force it to be ‘big’ (LO).
I really felt the fullness of the work, its beauty and subtlety. I have been thinking that the combination of yoga and breath work is a really fruitful one for me. The yoga seems to help me clear the 'sludge' so that I'm more open to the breath and my mind is more settled. The breath work brings a greater sensitivity and fluidity to my yoga. It is seeming more possible to do yoga from the inside, out. Anyway, I'm working on it. I like it (Liu Ponomarew).
Whilst reaching out my breath drops in. I feel the flowing rhythm of the breath moving me whilst the movement itself guides the breath. It seems paradoxical and relying on an intelligence that I don’t necessarily have to think about. It is when I observe it and allow it to transform me that I remember the art of living and the potential to be present in this dance of breath. I ask myself why I am not engaging in this dance every moment. I have the freedom to dance in what may appear to be the mundane and ordinary, I long to hang out my washing being guided by this internal dance (Victoria Bonte).
Fascia- sense of an oiled joint. Hand under sit bone, a hip joint holiday
Translucent air: the quiet stream of heat from the heater, the soft sound we know of as tranquil, sounds of other bodies in the room
from the liniments of release – when one movement gives rise to the impulse to stretch into another direction, from rushes of breath into these forms, sudden stronger rushes of breath from the belly outward animating in a warmth, stream the body become palm tree in the wind, my head released at the top of, as the result of my spine- releasing my neck to expand my solar plexus again and then that happy timeless wonder of an Egyptian statue.
From this opening sense of what takes place in the quietude of a Quaker meeting, a meeting of people who don’t speak, and for whom something occurs in the quietude of time. Moment and memory (KB).
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