Voice Note Queen 

I got sent this message on a group chat 👆- yes, yes, I know.  A window into my signature style of voice messaging.  What could be said in a minute, I usually take five.  Perhaps you’ve been on the receiving end of one of these from me or someone else and thought - Just get to the bleeding point !!! 

This made me laugh, but it also made me cringe a little. 

The Edit

It occurred to me that how I send voice messages may be how I teach in a yoga class. Is this me? Long and convoluted? 

Recently, I’ve been encouraged to appraise my own teaching by watching back my class recordings and analysing the transcripts - looking at filler words, preferences, pace and tone etc.  I’ve put off doing this for ages (honestly, who likes to watch themselves back?)  This self-appraisal, although uncomfortable, has taught me reams about my love for verbal diarrhoea.  It appears that I like to elaborate, repeat and over-explain.  No surprises - I like to talk.  

I’m not berating myself for the sake of it.  I love words and verbosity - they have their place.  But evolving as a teacher is important to me - self-awareness being the foremost key to this. There are times when I over-cue, repeat myself unnecessarily, and find it difficult to let silence and trust take over. 

 I want every student to feel every single thing (control freak, anyone?), which, whilst well-intended may have the opposite effect of what I’d really like - for someone to be deeply in their own experience.  

When everything is emphasised, nothing has a chance to land. 

How interesting it’s come to this - the more I know, the less I want to say.  

Yoga as Subtraction 

Yoga asks us to add many things to our lives for the better - strength, compassion, awareness, steadiness. But it’s easy to forget that these are not the destination. Accumulating more poses, more breath techniques, more hours of disciplined practice can feel good. But they are tools in the service of something larger: the removal of what colours and distorts our perception of our true selves. 

Yoga, in its largest sense, is a process of subtraction, not addition - clearing what obscures. The Sanskrit word Avidya - translated as ignorance - describes the muddy lens through which we see ourselves and the world. The practice isn't about acquiring a new shiny lens but cleaning the one you already have.  Yoga - one way to help sweep the road, to remove the obstacles so we can find our way Home. 

Addition serves the subtraction. Not the other way around.

Saying No to More

Addition seems to be the constant driving force of modern life.  I’ve said yes to everything and everyone in my time, filled every empty space with busyness, grabbed everything I could - tasks, people, activities - with no time to integrate, appreciate or absorb before moving onto the next thing. 

Just as I tap into moments of simplicity, I am easily drawn back toward the culture of More that surrounds us all.  When I get caught up in doing, as I often do, I sometimes wonder - am I just slapping more mud on a lens that I’m simultaneously trying so hard to rub clean? 

My particular breed of addition (or addiction) is information.  I have to remind myself, even the most valuable information requires space to integrate. You cannot absorb what you never pause to receive. 

Less is More

I used to fill every gap in my week - in fact, I still find myself doing it. Another podcast, another thing to learn, another commitment to add to my life. This constant doing - I'd wonder why l'd feel vaguely full but somehow starved at the same time.

I have, though, started asking myself a different question. Not what should I add today, but what can I take away?  It sounds like a small change. It isn't - it’s a game-changer. Because what you remove changes the quality of everything that you’ve chosen to keep.

Coco Chanel famously said, "Before you leave the house, take one thing off."

In yoga, we might say it differently: you don't need a new lens… Just start cleaning the one you have.

What would you consider removing today?

Let's practice.