The case for doing less in your practice

I came to yoga the way a lot of us did — through fitness. I wanted to be stronger, leaner, more capable. The studios I trained in were vinyasa studios. Sweat, music, choreography. The teacher I admired most could hold a side plank like she had been built for it. I wanted that.

I trained, taught, and built a small following. Around year five, my back started hurting in a way that did not go away. I tried more practice, then different practice, then less practice, then a physiotherapist. The physiotherapist sent me to a restorative class because, in her words, "you don't actually know how to stop."

I sat through that first class like a hostage. I was furious. I was bored. I was certain I was wasting an hour I should have been moving. Then about forty minutes in, in supported child's pose, I cried for ten minutes for reasons I still cannot fully articulate. I went home and slept for two hours in the middle of the afternoon. I have been thinking about it ever since.

What restorative practice actually does

The shapes look like rest. They are not exactly rest. In a restorative pose, you are not asking the body to perform. You are giving it long enough to actually settle into its own architecture. The muscles can let go because nothing is asking them to hold anything up. Bolsters and blankets do the structural work. You do the much harder work of not interfering.

The bolster holds you up. The practice is letting it.

What happens when you stop interfering, for long enough, in a pose that fully supports you, is that the nervous system finally gets the signal that the alert can be lowered. For people who live in a state of low-grade alert most days — which, in my experience teaching, is almost everyone — this is not a small thing. It is, often, the thing.

Why it's harder than vinyasa

I know how this sounds. A class where you lie on bolsters cannot possibly be harder than one where you flow through forty asanas. And in a muscular sense, you are right. In every other sense, restorative practice is the hardest thing I teach.

It is harder because:

• There is nothing to distract you. No choreography, no "next pose." You have to be with what is happening.
• The body has time to actually feel itself. For someone who has been holding tension for years, this is uncomfortable in ways that "uncomfortable" doesn't quite capture.
• You cannot try harder. The thing you are good at — effort — does not help here. Some people find this maddening for the first six classes.

I have had students who can hold a handstand for ninety seconds cry in their first long-hold reclined twist. I have had students who hated yoga for years find their way home in a supported supta baddha konasana. The body knows what it needs. Our job, in restorative practice, is to stop being so loud that it cannot hear itself.

How I teach it now

My restorative classes are ninety minutes and we get through maybe six poses. Each is held for ten to twenty minutes. I talk for about three minutes at the start of each, then I stop. The most important thing I do as a teacher is leave people alone.

There is no music. I dim the lights. I lay out the props before students arrive so the room looks ready when they walk in. I have learned that people who are trying to slow down do not need a teacher demonstrating slowness. They need permission and a quiet room.

If you want to try this at home

Pick one pose. The simplest is supported reclined butterfly. You need:

• A bolster, or a tightly rolled blanket, or two pillows stacked
• Two more blankets or two more pillows
• Twenty minutes

Lie on your back with the bolster lengthwise under your spine, from tailbone to crown. Open the knees out wide, soles of the feet together, and put a blanket or pillow under each thigh so the legs are fully supported. Arms relaxed at your sides, palms up. Eyes closed or soft.

Set a timer for fifteen minutes the first time. You will want to get up after four. Stay. The work is in the staying. I have written more about why restorative poses are harder than they look, if you want the longer version.

When the timer goes, do not rush to get up. Roll slowly to one side. Sit up over a few breaths. Notice what is different. It will not be subtle.

Next month: a long piece on foam rolling, which I have many opinions about, most of them inconvenient.