Recent Blog Posts
On Monday my husband’s friend Rob, invited us to go on a “nature healing walk” with him. Rob is big, burly, sweet, and jovial. He originally hails from Holland but now lives north of Auckland in the forest. He wore a single tooth earing that I never got around to asking him about. I imagine that if Elsa and Hagrid had a baby, it would’ve been Rob.
Yoga and Long Haulers By Kristine Kaoverii Weber | March 29, 2021 COMMENTSI know someone (and you probably do too) who has post-acute COVID syndrome. She recovered from COVID last spring, but now struggles with fatigue, breathing, and brain fog. She used to be an avid...
Yoga and Bodies on Fire By Kristine Kaoverii Weber | March 21, 2021 COMMENTSWhen grandma visited, grocery bags came with her. She’d spread the contents out over the kitchen counters and rifle through the cabinets to find suitable bowls and pans. Then she’d wash her...
The yoga world isn’t immune to cultural pathology. I started teaching in 1995, and by the early 2000s the vibe was that if you weren’t teaching the fast sweaty stuff, with great playlists and great choreography, you’d be slapped with a “beginner” or “gentle” teacher label. Definitely second class. No good times slots, not much interest or respect, not many students.
I think about long days of practice and learning and how much fun it would be to be with people again – either as a teacher or a student.
Sometimes my fantasy ends there, other times it gets more elaborate.
Moving to a new country has got me thinking a lot about contentment and tolerance. I’m used to having a two-sink kitchen sink, but here I only have one, I’m used to having a clothes dryer, here I have a line, I’m used to calling my mom whenever I want, here I have to think about the time difference, I’m used to playing my guitar, but currently it’s vacationing (with most of my other worldly possessions) on a ship in the middle of the pacific.
Recently, I was virtually mansplained by a breathing expert who informed me that I don’t teach “proper” breathing.🤔
Ah, the remarkably satisfying interoceptive experience of responding to social media blather with… crickets.
I regularly practice a version of Bhūtaśuddhi meditation, where you imagine yourself floating away from the earth and experiencing the vastness of the universe. And although I’ve been practicing this for several decades, I’ve always had a hard time with it. A long silver tether comes into my mind, connecting me back to the earth and as much as I try to sever it, I often can’t.
I’m writing this from what feels a bit like a state of suspended animation – a COVID purgatory.
A couple of weeks ago I flew from Asheville to Los Angeles. It had been planned for months but, with the virus surging in California, I was concerned. I’d been taking zinc, vitamin D, and resveratrol for months and practicing pranayama daily. I wore two masks on the plane (an N95 underneath and paper mask on top), sprayed myself with essential oils every hour or so, and said a few protective mantras (because, hey, why not?
Ripping Off the Band-Aid of Illusion By Kristine Kaoverii Weber | December 31, 2020 COMMENTSSome say that 2020 was the year of removing the veils of illusion, but I think it was more like ripping off Band-Aids. Today, all over the internet, folks are saying “good...
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