This post is difficult to share. My yoga practice and healthcare journey are a significant part of my heart and soul. As much as I hear that my yoga/physical/dietary/spiritual practice is an inspiration and motivation for others (for which I am immensely grateful), I hear comments in the negative. I am often told I am too skinny. That I need to be more lenient with my diet. That I go too hard or do too much. Those comments wouldn't bother me if it didn't give me pause to consider if there is truth there. However, the fact that I will question myself and re-examine my approach to these things doesn't mean that the path I am on is the wrong one and that the comments about my body or my discipline are warranted without there being compassion attached to them. And, honestly, unless you want to confront me about my weight because you're concerned I am not healthy and you want to offer me help or hear me out, you have no business commenting on the size of my body. Unless you are willing to hear about why I am so disciplined and what I see in my patterns in regards to my physical practice, including the risks I'm willing to take to achieve certain goals (including why those are goals I want to reach), there's no need for you to comment there either. So, I do welcome compassionate observation, relaying of experiences, advice, and research sharing in regards to this post. However, comments about my body or practice without compassion and only judgment are not necessary.
My current and slower, more deliberate practice. I'm finally feeling stronger again. I am working on not repeating old patterns in different ways.
I was going all out. I was going to push to the point of dripping sweat, shaking muscles, the feeling of my entire body turning to jello. That, in and of itself can be a great workout goal, but for me, it was a way to punish the anxiety beast. It didn't matter that I was already tired. I hadn't slept well for days. Waking up nightly with adrenaline rushes was common. It didn't matter that my body ached or that I was sore from my Buti Yoga practice the day before. Chronic polyarthropathy means my body always hurts to some degree. To find my capacity for strength and endurance in middle age would obviously be to do the work regardless. I had even asked about fatigue and working with shaking muscles and was advised that both were goals to achieve when strength building from both yoga teachers, trainers, and online yoga groups. They weren't wrong. Pushing was not giving in or up. It was refusing to let my rebellious body get beyond my ability to control.
I rolled out my mat. I was already out of breath. My heart was pounding. I had the cliche overwhelming sense of dread that those of us who live with anxiety either choose to give in to or actively ignore. I was practicing a familiar sequence. I was practicing in my living room. What the hell was wrong with me? I was having a panic attack. It felt like I was turning inside out. I didn't understand. Yoga is my passion. It saves my life. I tell my yoga clients all the time that if they are not with the breath that they are not doing yoga. It was hard to breathe. I ignored my own advice and went on with it anyway. Yoga couldn't be the trigger. Yoga was the tool.
I decided that what I was feeling was related to something I wasn't conscious of and I just needed to move. I completed the practice. My legs didn't want to lift, but I made them go. Every time I felt I was about to reach my limit, I pushed harder. Mind over matter. If I didn't land a movement on beat or my balance was off on one side, I fought the urge to go back and repeat. I tell my yoga classes that our bodies are different every time we get on our mats. I took this advice, working on meeting myself there. Except was I?
but it didn't burn off the fog in my brain (another symptom I have grown accustomed to with Hashimoto's). My muscles ached more and I couldn't initiate movements without wincing and stiffness. Normal aging? I had been told. I looked forward to bedtime. I was glad to know I had worked hard.
If you follow me on social media, I've recently posted about being injured and having to come to terms with changing my practice from high intensity intervals mixed with yoga to a more "traditional" vinyasa practice that is little to no impact. My injury was with my SI joint and piriformis, but has been nagging as many muscles around them began to spasm to compensate for moving through the pain without pause. I don't know if I'll be able to return to the strenuous schedule of training I kept before, or if I will desire it. With functional strength movement, pelvic floor and core training, and bodyweight movements, I am adding the slower is stronger approach to my practice. Floating and flying. What I am doing now is equally as challenging, but in a different and more grounded way.
I've learned a lot since the original injury this past August about the ungrounded and unconscious patterns that brought me to injury. About a month ago, I realized that those panic attacks I had started having before my sacred practice was my body's way of resisting the abuse I was inflicting upon it. I have been angry at my body. I sometimes still am. Self love is not known to me. As glorious, cherished, and sacred as my yoga practice is, I had begun to use it as a way to work against my body instead of with it. I was a bully. A dictator. I had allowed self loathing to masquerade as self care.
I gave in to fears that I conjured to sidestep the real work that I needed to be doing which was embodiment and learning to love myself. I had begun to fear gaining weight because I had developed an association between that and my thyroid hormones being sup par. I was angry that I can't sleep at night without pain, so I sleep propped on a loveseat where my cats and street lights keep me awake. I was/am scared that one day I'll wake up and this body that I currently have... this strong and useful body... will be gone and I'll once again feel like I inhabit an alien body that looks nothing like the me inside of it. I've worked hard to bring my body to represent the temple in its physical expression. Always more work to do. I have vowed to be as healthy as I can. This, I often feel is akin to holding water in cupped hands.
In this fear, I held myself to standards that were not sustainable. Rest has become lazy and unproductive. I used the fact that I had a lower income to criticize myself for all the things I've failed to accomplish because of this mission I've had to heal myself and help anyone who asks. I let fear of rejection keep me small. The unknown controlled by my experiences of lack. I hated chronic illness. I hated my self sabotage. I am ashamed. I am embarrassed. As long as I could "succeed" at reaching my yoga goals, I could feel ok about something. There was no compassion in this scenario - only loathing.
I have trained myself to override intuition and bodily cues in favor of a prescribed plan that I didn't develop for myself, but adopted from another's idea of fitness and health. A rigid formula, an overly analyzed schematic. I took literally the instructor's cues to "push, push," "dig deep," and "keep up." I had become a slave to the idea that I cannot trust myself or my body. That where I am is not enough. In ignoring my body's signals and in my own self disgust, I have gained another opportunity to learn. I'm not a quitter when I am passionate. I want to break these harmful cycles/patterns. I want true healing, or at least contentment rather than an identity as someone on the healing path. I am being diligent to opening my eyes to the shadow side of me, and to use it to transform to truth. To acknowledge that I created this scenario for myself in order that I remove my own blinders. My basketball coach always said, "You have to make Hansel mad to get her to play ball." Do I step forward in freedom? I am stepping back to yoga.
If you want to master anything, you cannot be afraid of effort. ~Dylan Werner (yoga instructor, veteran, world traveler, musician)
Very recently, I have had to come to terms with a part of my shadow that was creating suffering in all its attempts at feeling virtuous. Have you ever taken a step back and asked yourself to what degree are you responsible for your own suffering? It isn't an easy question to ask. It causes our ego to become defensive. We begin to justify our actions and our operating beliefs. However, one of the most powerful things we can do for ourselves is to bring into consciousness the patterns that may have at one time preserved us, but in our current configuration are no longer necessary and therefore have become part of our suffering. In doing so, you're highly likely to experience some resistance if not an all out refusal of the mind to let go. It's pretty damn uncomfortable.
In August 2018, while doing my normal Buti Yoga workout (a form that combines strong vinyasa, pliometrics, HIIT, tribal dance, primal movements, and spiral structure technique), I felt what I thought was a pulled muscle. It hurt like all hell, but I let the pain release just enough that I could push on through my workout and finish. By the time I finished my practice, I felt like I must have just strained it and everything would be fine. After analyzing what happened and what I was doing when I felt the pain, I came to the conclusion that a tight piriformis was giving me trouble. The next morning, I woke up unable to move without pain, and I have been in some degree of pain since.
For two years, my normal yoga practice has consisted primarily of Buti Yoga with all of its add-on elements - SCULPT, BANDS, HotCore, and DEEP. I did the recommended schedule of 3 days of practice followed by one day of rest. I adored this practice. I certified in Buti. I audited another certification weekend. I believed, and still believe in its transformative possibilities. After my injury, I tried to push through the pain to keep up my schedule. Initially, there was some improvement, but by early December, sometimes I would give my best effort at lifting my legs and they would barely rise off the ground. I found I was having to clinch in odd places in order to perform the movements because the pain was so intense. This was causing more pain. It was then that I made the hard decision to back off of my chosen yoga form, that I had grown to love so much over the last two years, and do only the restorative version DEEP, and add in the more "traditional" yoga styles that led me to yoga 17 years ago. Even though I am a 200RYT (200 hour registered yoga teacher through Yoga Alliance) and certified in Hatha and Kundalini yogas along with Buti, it was hard for me to accept that I hadn't somehow failed myself. I had only practiced Buti for 2 of the 17 years I have practiced, but it has enriched me in all ways beyond description and made advanced yoga asanas more accessible to me.
It's been a struggle to let go of the blaze it took to keep up that level of commitment to a form of yoga that at times is very high intensity. It gives new meaning to the term "ride the lightning," which normally means being put to death by the electric chair. Instead, this is the scenario where you harness the lightning and use it to become what you thought was an impossibility. I have been an athlete my whole life. I played girls basketball, volleyball, and ran cross country. I have always been active regardless of my weight. Buti helped me reach plains of being that even as a high school student, I would never have dreamed I could access. It was beautiful and addictive.
This all came about during a time (the last five years) when my spiritual and personal path has taken a radical turn. Everything I thought I knew about myself is in question. Upheaval of the belief systems that have kept me afloat since childhood. It was no coincidence that at the same time, I became terrible at asanas (yoga poses) that required any form of balance. I was ungrounded. The driven fixer in me didn't understand why I seemed to be going backward in this area, and began to push for more strength, playing limits, and striving. When I found and experienced the magic of Buti, I trusted that eventually I'd find my feet under me again.
I have not yet. In fact, the only improvement that I have seen in that area has been since I pulled back my practice. This past Sunday, I took a mystic yoga class that was geared toward the root chakra. The teacher created one of the most intriguing sequences I have ever experienced for the muladhara (Sanskrit name of the root chakra). There on my mat, my still small voice from within asked, "Are you all in or does your effort reflect only the trying? It always appears you are in the process, but you are afraid to arrive. What do you fear?" I used my breath to not cry. I decided instead to forgive myself and be with what my body wanted then. In those moments, I understood what had really been happening in my practice. Afterward, the teacher gifted me the beautiful smoky quartz you see me holding in the picture above. Another woman in the class looked at me and told me she had watched me practice and it inspired her. There in my weakness, my strength was recognized. I have been refusing to accept my strength for the pursuit of a body and mind that I think I should have. And yet, I'm too afraid to become the thing I think I have the potential to be because it is completely different than any state of being I have ever known.
I had allowed maximum efforting to become my comfort zone. In the guise of self improvement, I was loathing myself into extreme fatigue and injury. I wasn't giving myself time to celebrate my gains, but constantly pushing. During these last two months of backing off of Buti, I am finally able to actually feel how strong I am! I was keeping myself so weak from overdoing that I couldn't recognize where I was physically. I was ignoring my body's cues in order to make it submit. I was stagnant in the familiar places of pain, discomfort, illness, shame, and anxiety while to the outside it appeared I was doing great things for myself. I didn't fully believe I could ever have another experience of life aside of that list of descriptive words because I had never known it before. As they say, "Seeing is believing." Therefore, it was true that discomfort and dis-ease had become my comfort zone. I had taken it on to heal, but instead of nurturing myself there, I was browbeating myself into submission. I had wondered why I sometimes felt states of panic when I rolled out my mat for practice. I loved my yoga. It made no sense. I had made myself blind by hiding self destruction behind the mask of self care.
Yoga is a journey to the self through the self. ~Bhagavad Gita
All yoga is about coming to know who and what you are, unifying all parts of your being through the breath and practices. It is about coming in to santosha (yoga niyama meaning contentment. It is about fullness right where you are as you also see beyond your limiting beliefs. Even Buti Yoga has as one of its main mantras - Total body love. Today, see yourself where you are and think about what it means to love yourself there.
“We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” ~ Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (Jesuit Priest, philosopher, and paleontologist)
Our culture is all about changing, subduing, or avoiding our physical bodies. Extreme diets, pharmaceuticals, plastic surgery, consumer culture, social media, obsessions, and even our spiritual practices contribute. What would happen though if we focused on radically being in our body instead of changing, subduing, or avoiding them? What would it mean to live the language of our body?
There are signs all over the place that a great many people aren’t truly inhabiting this human form we’ve been given. Unconscious behavior runs rampant. The abuse of food, drugs, alcohol, sex, and one another both emotionally and physically are just some of the ways this is true. It’s true on the level of faith too. In spiritual communities all over the globe, there’s a lot of encouragement to “transcend the body,” as it is imagined the Buddha and Jesus Christ did, either through meditation, other spiritual practices, or self-sacrifice. Escapism is not the answer to the human struggle. It is the cause.
We find ourselves in the midst of struggle and instead of addressing it on the tangible, human level we choose to escape. At different times of our lives we all are guilty of trying to experience something outside of our human form in various degrees. Sometimes, this trying is a conscious effort. Other times, it is completely unconscious. It isn’t always a bad thing. Everyone needs a vacation from time to time. However, considering death is the only real way to escape the human form, if we don’t allow ourselves to consciously inhabit our bodies we are spending our entire lives avoiding living.
Whether we’re experiencing this active escapism as a result of mental, emotional, or physical trauma doesn’t matter. What matters is that we make ourselves conscious to it so that we can address it. Are you really letting yourself be in your body? Are you opening yourself up to a fully impactful human experience?
Here’s some signs you might be in avoidance mode.
1. You don’t recognize yourself when you look in the mirror.
Every time you look in the mirror you feel like shit. Even when you try to be positive about your physical appearance, you find yourself smoothing wrinkles in your shirt over your midsection. So, you’ve started avoiding mirrors. Now, if you happen to catch a glimpse of yourself you’re shocked that what you see is you. It doesn’t look like you. It doesn’t look like what you imagine when you’re feeling good about who you are and what you’re doing in life.
Our reflection in the looking glass and our reaction to it is a good gauge for whether or not we’re allowing our body to be our home. Feeling alienated by your own body is not conducive to experiencing your personal power, focus, and will – your magick. We gotta own these bodies.
Try some self-care to learn to connect with your body on a deeper level. Ask your body some simple questions and trust the answers that your gut gives you:
2. You overthink everything.
You find it hard to trust your gut. What is intuition anyway? Isn’t part of being human our ability to approach things through logic, problem solving, and complex forms of expression? What if that gut feeling is wrong?
Part of becoming disconnected from the body is that we lose the trust of the feedback it gives us. We unlearn the language it uses to speak to us. As babies and young children, we are very good at communicating with our bodies. Our bodies are how we learn to get around in the world and to obtain all that we need for survival. Add to those basic instincts the ability to reason and discern, and we’re pure force!
Our bodies communicate in the form of sensations. From emotions, to experiencing hot or cold our bodies provide us with endless data to inform our action. What if we began with this feedback, then applied logic, and then assessed whether or not that fits with what we “thought” was true at first – intuition? This is a step by step utilized Break Method, also developed by Bizzie Gold. Using our body and mind for decision making is a game changer. It can save all kinds of anxiety and time second guessing yourself.
3. You ignore physical sensation or overindulge in sensation making activity to feel alive.
You’ve found yourself saying – I feel dead inside. Everything is dull, mundane… unexciting. Even down to knowing when you’re hungry or not. You look up from your computer screen and it’s two hours passed lunchtime and you suddenly realize your ravenous. You couldn’t cry at your grandmother’s funeral even though you were very close. During sex, you find yourself checking out and making to-do lists for the next day, or debating whether or not the giants mentioned in the Old Testament bible were actually aliens. Orgasm is overrated.
In this case, you’ve disconnected so completely from your body, if you don’t recover the connection, it will be a life altering event that finally provides you the impetus to get back in there... if it doesn’t kill you. Your body can make life exciting. What’s in there that you are avoiding? How might you address those things in order to find your way back in?
Or, perhaps you feel alive by being the life of the party. You take all the risks. Excess is your middle name. Indulging makes you feel alive. The hangover after is what feels like death. Moderation feels too boring. Day to day living is not enough to make you feel alive, and it’s only by taking your body to extremes that you get enough sensation to feel present in life. Otherwise, there’s a numbness to it all. A feeling of waiting that is nearly unbearable.
You too are disconnected from the body. Even in exploring the limits of the body you are disconnected and ignoring it. There’s not a balance. It is not sustainable. Therefore, you aren’t getting the totality of experience. You are not present for life, but constantly trying to alter it. How can you impact something for the positive if you aren’t aware of all that it currently is? What too are you avoiding? How might you address those things in order to find your way back in?
5. Your spiritual practice focuses on transcending the body.
Has escapism become a dogma for you under a spiritual guise? Flesh as weakness. Every major religion and most traditional spiritual practices have some form of this thought when taken out of context or to the extreme. Is all your chakra work in the upper triangle? Is your biggest struggle in meditation to ignore the physical sensations in your body? Do you spend hours praying your way out of struggles? Are you honing astral projection, but ignoring the stomach pains after you eat?
The truth is, looking at the chakra system and other psychological schools of thought, that most of our inner work should be around our connection to home/tribe, interpersonal relationships, and our expression of ourselves as an individual. The lower triangle of chakras, if you are familiar with that system. The things that illustrate our human experience. Without roots a tree cannot reach the heavens. Without the ability to ground into our bodies, how do we even know what we are transcending? Maybe the lesson is to – be here now.
Buti (Marathi Indian) – the cure to something hidden or kept secret
After a few times seeing clips of Bizzie Gold and the Dynamic Flow DVD, I was intrigued. I recognized elements from my vinyasa and kundalini practice, but there was an undogmatic freedom and power I had yet to experience. I wanted to know what it was that I was witnessing as I watched Bizzie move. So, on March 19, 2017, I did the 30-minute Dynamic Flow practice in my bedroom. It kicked my ass and I fell in love. I had found the missing elixir to aid my healing.
Despite being what I had thought was pretty fit, as I continued to practice, I found Buti a challenge. My joints would swell. My doctor told me that my body just didn’t like the intensity, and if I were to continue, I should do so mindfully. He, knowing me and my determination, said, “I’ll see you back when you have an injury.” I love a good challenge, especially when my success is up to me and only me. I knew my body should be and would be capable if I listened and supported my effort properly. I kept up, mindfully. My joints stopped swelling.
Within a few months, I had all the DVDs available. I live in a very rural community with poor internet access, so I waited to subscribe to the Tones. The closest, in person, class was over two hours away. No one in my town was doing Buti. Buti, alone, was motivating me to keep up. Before too long, I was following the three days on and one day off schedule recommended by the DVD inserts.
The change was subtle at first. I didn’t know if I’d stay enthusiastic. I had no clue that I was committing to the practice that would lift me out of the dark pit. Oh, but I had. I connected with the tribe of butisattvas on Facebook and was floored by the beauty and loving kindness there. No cat fights. No body shaming. Personal answers to questions from Bizzie herself and all the other master trainers. This practice was not created to leave you in the deep waters to sink or swim. It was created as a tool for thriving. Never before had I been in a group of women that actually felt like a genuine sisterhood.
Soon, I stopped getting on the scale every week. I stopped using the tape measure I bought to measure inches to avoid weighing on the scale. I no longer felt the need to monitor my intake of macros. I just kept up with my autoimmune protocol paleo diet and started supplementing collagen and turmeric. Then, I found Golden Ratio Nutrition and used the protein powder to support my new level of activity in a way that brought vitality.
By July 2017, my community had crowd funded my Buti certification in Nashville, TN with Talen Lane. Experiencing the Buti sisterhood in person gave me a new level of understanding in my practice and friendships that are still ongoing. While I haven’t had the opportunity to teach Buti much in my community (my Buti class will start at Evolation Yoga Kentucky in just a few short weeks), I already use the principles I was taught to enhance the beginning vinyasa classes I do teach. I know that one day I will share Buti with a tribe of Appalachian Kentucky butisattvas, and we’ll be badass.
The most important thing in all this is the fact that I’m ok with my body for the first time in my life. I appreciate its strength and its intrinsic healing powers. I see beauty in its flaws. Even those, like my stretched tummy, that still gives me pause when looking in the mirror. I’m in the best physical shape, at age 39, of my entire active life. I’ve taken my yoga practice to places I could not have without the aid of Buti. I know what it feels like to stand in my worth and know I work hard. I trust that I am strong enough to make it now. I questioned that before.
Yoga means – “union” or “to yoke.” It is the connection of mind, body, and spirit through breath. It is learning to be fully in the body in order to spiritually transcend its limitations. I have practiced yoga for fifteen years now. I taught yoga before Buti, but Buti taught me yoga. This year has brought me away from a daily desire to not exist. I’ve reached a degree of healing that I had given up on finding. I’m pursuing dreams, taking risks, finding inner confidence, learning to be grounded, and showing my daughters what it means to live life out loud. There’s still so much room for growth that I get scared sometimes. How much more wondrously real can it get? What I know now, because I found Buti, is that I have what I need to move forward with grace, supportive sisterhood does exist, and my body is not to be a shamed object. I know that I am fierce. I am strong. I am awakened. I am Buti.
Kelli Hansel Haywood is the mother of three daughters living in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky. She is a writer, spiritual explorer, avid yogi, reiki practitioner, and is living life with chronic illness. Connect with her @ Kelli Hansel - Writer & Spiritual/Yoga/Self Transformation Guide
What Clients Are Saying
Kelli's authenticity in the work was paramount in me feeling safe and comfortable in facing some challenges in my life. The practice has been helpful in me finding focus, strength, and over health and well-being. Kelli is a beautiful person and that shines through all her work.