Undulating at the bus stop?

This is a guest post from anatomy teacher, dancer and chiropractor Madeleine Shen-Lopez. Maddy has been teaching anatomy for The Branches’ Teacher Training Program for over a decade, and this year we are offering her special brand of magic as a longer course + weekend immersion starting in October. In this post Maddy talks about discovering the possibilities of her spine, and the intersections of learning about anatomy from the inside (as a curious mover) and from the outside (as a chiropractor).

When I first started studying anatomy it was far from academic. It was in a dance studio, with a group of enthusiastic nerds crowding around an anatomy book. We mimicked the skeleton model with our own bodies. We got to know our tissues by palpating them from the outside. We didn’t learn Latin words or anatomical terminology. We learned about our anatomy by moving it.

I remember learning about the bones of the spine and how they can undulate (move in a smooth, wave-like motion) because of the way their many joints are shaped. I remember feeling the tissues on the front and back of my body. Searching to find the coordination of movement as a symphony. Finding textures in my movement like gooey, elastic and fluid. I used to practice all the time! Waiting at the bus stop in Toronto, I’d close my eyes and move my spine in waves.

I’m sure I looked bizarre to the people around me but I discovered something while I was undulating at the bus stop. I began to understand that knowing with my mind is just one part of knowing with my body. That understanding how the spine’s anatomy enables undulation was just one part, and a far cry from actually undulating my own spine!

And once I could undulate my spine, I realized there were still more layers of knowledge that I could explore – deepening the precision and flow with which I undulate my spine, learning how the undulating spine can move my limbs, and how moving my limbs can undulate my spine!

I learned that the human spine has 27 segments, and each segment has 3-5 joints with which to articulate. That’s over 80 joints in the spine! This offers an incredible and infinite possibility of combinations of movements, a continuum of options for how we move. Playing with wave-like motions in the spine, you can explore lots of different pathways, not just one way of bending or curving. This motion can then travel throughout my body, influencing my limbs, like the wave traveling through a whip, or the resonance of a guitar string vibrating the whole structure.

There is even a wave-like motion in the human gait pattern – a fancy way of saying the way humans walk. The wave of the spine helps propel the body through space, with arms pendulating along with it, and our legs catching us as we fall through space.

After spending several years studying anatomy with my brain and body, outside of institutions, I went back to the academic world to study to be a chiropractor. There we studied anatomy in very different ways.

We did dissection study of cadavers. We got to see tissues from lots of different bodies and how they connect and intertwine and how different they are from one body to the next. We sat in a lecture hall looking at and studying slides of 2D pictures. We memorized big fancy words and complicated terminology. We held real bones and felt all their facets and bumps and textures – and memorized the specific names of every part. But during exams I would still come back to my body which already knew so much.

When asked a multiple choice question like…

“Pectoralis Major moves the humerus in which way? A: Abduction B: Adduction C: Flexion or D: Extension”

…I didn’t rely on memorized tables like many of my colleagues did. My strategy was to close my eyes and feel. I’d move my arm around slowly sensing and Bing! The answer was right there in my body.

To this day when I’m working with chiropractic patients or movement-curious students, my body and theirs are our best teachers. The Latin names and movement terminology can be useful in some contexts, and fun to throw around! But the most important learning happens in the body.

Learning anatomy doesn’t have to be purely academic, reserved for medical practitioners. It can be an experience of tuning into your own felt experience, and letting the knowledge of how bones are shaped and how muscles move enhance what you can sense and feel. If you’re curious to explore movement and the human body in this way, I’d love to explore it with you. Teaching anatomy has been a huge gift for me, as I get to share this simple truth: Your body knows.

Learn more about Maddy’s upcoming Anatomy of Movement Immersion.

on deadlifting during climate emergencies

This post is from the mind and heart of Leslie, one of The Branches’ co-directors and co-owners.

Lately we’ve been (lightly) waxing poetic about summer in our recent posts, saying things like it doesn’t last forever, or it only comes once per year, and asking how you like to make the most of it. Gardening, beach-days, camping, or maybe hiding out in the A/C or basement with a good book?

Yoga in the Park, a staple of Branches summers, wrapped up yesterday a week later than planned. We had to dip into our reserved rain dates to make up for a cancellation earlier in the season. But this free community offering hadn’t been cancelled due to rain – it was the abysmal air quality.

No matter how each of us likes to spend the season, for nearly a week last month, summer was no longer about seizing the day, it was about… surviving. The wildfires in Northern Ontario that resulted in what was sometimes the worst air quality in the world had us canceling outdoor activities, shuttering windows, and for some, wearing masks while outdoors as a way of protecting our health.

I sometimes think (more like delude myself into thinking) that I did all my grieving around climate disasters decades ago when I first started reading the work of thinkers like John Michael Greer and Joanna Macy. Then this year’s heavy smoke – and the five-day self-imposed prohibition on going outside – brought a fresh wave of despair. The fact that I am now a parent adds its own weight. A more realistic expectation might be that these feelings will renew themselves alongside other markers of climate changes on cyclical, incremental, and even exponential patterns.

If I can sit with these feelings, I remember that there are a few things I already know for sure about climate stress and its causes: one is that it doesn’t do me any good to pretend it doesn’t exist. So thanks for reading this letter and joining me in recognizing our shared reality. Another truth is that whether or not we feel that correcting the course of human civilization is possible, we still need to adapt to the daily and yearly fluctuations of climate patterns as they get wilder and weirder. And finally, we need to do that adapting together.

One sign of adaptation on a micro scale at the studio is that three summers ago, extreme heat events became frequent enough that we had to add a heat wave policy for yoga in the park and classes on the back deck. Two summers ago, we added one about air quality due to the increasing incidence of wildfire smoke. Weather extremes are no longer rare or anomalous, so new norms required guidelines our staff could refer to. We’re grateful for the HVAC system we chose when we renovated the building – it includes top-of-the-line HEPA air filtration – but we are considering additional resources to enhance the indoor air quality even further. We take our responsibility to provide a supportive space in which to practice seriously, which includes the basics, like air.

We also aim to emobdy the values of resilience-building and social change, and these feel relevant in specific ways in light of ecological and climate disaster. There is a time and place for personal resilience, and we sincerely hope that your yoga practice and strength training sustain you mentally, emotionally and physically for the joys, but also for the challenges that the coming years and decades will bring. If you’ve been feeling frozen in the face of all that is f*cked up in our province, consider this your reminder and gentle nudge (or hearty pull) that you should still come do your deadlifts, your supported sidebends, or whatever practice keeps you clear-eyed and afloat. The world needs you feeling good enough to show up and share your gifts as we navigate difficulty together.

Having a safe(r) environment for practice might mean the building or room itself, but our responsibility doesn’t end at the doorway to the studio. Adaptation isn’t just air purifiers, and resilience must go beyond our own joints and mental attitudes. Let’s not forget that for some Ontarians, including those of settler-descent, but much more so Indigenous northerners, that the wildfire smoke has been a concern of minor importance compared with the fires themselves, which destroyed homes and displaced thousands. From our home-base in Kitchener, we can’t do the work of rebuilding the communities, but we can contribute to immediate emergency needs, especially through our chequing accounts. Here is an article that outlines a mix of specific First Nations, and some larger organizations that support those affected by the wildfires, who could really use our donations.

When surges of chaos or emergencies rise, I have to coach myself to do two things: one is to access whatever inner and outer resources I have to stay present instead of numbing out, and the other is to find a balance between dealing with present and future challenges, and connecting to joy so that I don’t wind up back in numbness. Easier said than done, but barbells and bolsters are not just to grow my resilience, they are a part of my presencing and joy practices, too.

There is so much more I want to say about our provincial and federal governments and the choices they’re making that seem not to respect our shared home here on Earth. But I’d rather hear back from you. How did you deal with our smoky air last month? Are there any beliefs or affirmations you say to yourself when a wave of climate chaos spikes up? Do you have any charitable organizations, or other forms of support you’d like to tell us about? We love hearing from our Branches community, about this, and everything.

Yours in solidarity,
Leslie

Why I stopped saying… “take a deep breath”

This post is by studio owner + director Leena Miller Cressman.

When I started studying yoga in the early 2000s, I constantly heard—and mimicked—the cue: “Take a deep breath.” I assumed “deep” meant “big.” I thought that when it came to breathing, more was always better. Expand the lungs, pull in as much air as possible—I thought I was “nourishing” my system with every giant inhale.

Now, I think differently.

My understanding changed thanks to some great teachers like Jennifer Snowdon and James Nestor’s brilliant book, Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art. I’ve come to appreciate that the breath is a responsive part of our internal ecosystem, meant to shift in harmony with our physical environment.

The “Flash Flood” Metaphor
Think of your breath like rainfall for the ecosystem of your body. When you are running or working hard, your body needs a heavy downpour to keep everything balanced. But when you are moving through a gentle yoga flow, forcing those massive, high-volume breaths is like sending a flash flood into a quiet garden.

Instead of nourishing the soil, that “flood” of air causes erosion. In biological terms, taking in a high volume of air when your body doesn’t metabolically need it is hyperventilation.

I often see students taking “sprinting-level” breaths from the very first Cat/Cow. Instead of calming their “internal climate,” this over-breathing can:

-Flush out too much CO2, making it harder for oxygen to actually reach the tissues.
-Signal the nervous system that there is an emergency (fight-or-flight).
-May create a sense of internal “storminess” and anxiety.
-It’s ironic: I see people trying for the fullest breath possible, intending to de-stress, but they are accidentally creating a climate of stress within their own bodies.


Redefining “Depth”
I still value “deep” breaths, but I’ve redefined what that means. To me, depth isn’t about the volume of the flood; it’s about how deep the roots go. Now in my yoga practice I look for a breath that is slow, soft, and nasal—one that sinks deep into the lower lobes of the lungs without disturbing the peace of the rest of the system.

Let me talk about the nasal part a little more. All my learning has made me fall in love with the wonders of the schnoz!



I’ll leave you with a 4 fun facts on why breathing through your nose is so important and incredible:

-Your nose has beautiful little hairs, crevices and tunnels that help to filter, warm and humidify the air for your delicate lung tissue.
-When you breathe through your nose, your sinuses produce Nitric Oxide. This gas is a vasodilator, meaning it helps relax and widen your blood vessels to improve oxygen circulation. Nitric Oxide is also the first line of defense against viruses and bacteria. Win-win!
-Nose breathing naturally slows down your breath, and helps you not exhale too much too quickly, helping your body to naturally maintain the best balance of CO2 in your body.
-Nasal breathing naturally encourages the diaphragm to drop lower, which massages the internal organs and stimulates the vagus nerve for a natural relaxation response.

Hope to see you in class, you’ll hear me cuing breath in these different ways. I love chatting all things nose breathing so come talk to me after class if you’re breath-curious! -Leena

how we made it to 20 years

A post from studio owner/director Leena Miller Cressman.

As we celebrate 20 years of The Branches and Queen Street Yoga, I’ve found myself reflecting on how we got here. There are people in our community who practiced with us on Queen Street, others who have only ever known the studio on Samuel Street, and many who joined us somewhere in between. It feels important to pause and share the story of where this all began, and how our studio grew into the community we know today.

When I look back over the last two decades, one idea keeps resurfacing — something that began as an instinct in the early years and has since become central to how I approach my work.

“The content is just an excuse to be together.”

This quote from movement teacher Frey Faust often comes to mind when I’m leading Yoga Teacher Trainings, hosting workshops, or simply chatting with folks around the studio. Don’t get me wrong — we’re deeply passionate about yoga and the many practices we share here. But it’s not the asana (yoga posture) practice itself that has carried this grassroots studio through three major renovations, a big location change, a global pandemic, economic recessions, and countless life transitions. What has sustained us for 20 years is being together.

Queen Street Yoga opened its doors in 2005 and celebrated its grand opening the following year. You’d enter an unassuming door on Queen Street and climb three big flights of stairs into a sunny, expansive space with high ceilings and squeaky hardwood floors. The studio was founded by Meaghan Johnson, an incredible teacher and community leader.

I started teaching yoga on my own in 2008, renting a room in a church and hustling my way into five classes a week. But I craved stability, purpose, and connection — colleagues to bounce ideas around with, a place to store my growing collection of yoga props, and a community to belong to. In 2009, I began teaching and taking classes at Queen Street Yoga alongside my church classes, benefiting deeply from Meaghan’s mentorship and the collegial environment.

In 2010, I stepped into the role of studio manager and began working more closely with Meaghan to run the studio and teach there full time. A few years later, when she decided to return to school to become a psychotherapist, I felt full of ideas and enthusiasm to keep building the community. At the tender age of 25, I decided to take the leap and buy the business. I was emboldened by the fact that my close friend Emma had begun teaching at QSY too, and she agreed to come along for the ride as manager and creative director.

Emma and I have been close friends for 20 years and have worked together for 14. It’s been a profound lesson in being together — learning to collaborate with our different strengths, work through disagreements, and support one another through both difficult and triumphant moments. We often joke that we’ve nearly mastered the art of reading each other’s minds. While we strive to run a business that supports our livelihoods, our guiding question has always been the same: how can this studio reflect our values of community care, environmental sustainability, and social justice?

Over time, the studio has grown into a carefully tended ecosystem. Teachers have planted themselves in our little forest, bringing so much life and care into the space — Carin since 2013; Leslie and Nicole since 2016; Wendy since 2019; Carol since 2020; and many more. In 2012, we started our work-trade program, where people exchange a few hours of admin or cleaning for free classes. These dedicated folks play a huge role in maintaining a welcoming, beautiful space, and many have gone on to become teachers or leaders. Wendy began as a work-trade, then started teaching, and since 2021 has been a cornerstone of the studio as Operations Wizard. Leslie started by creating gorgeous chalkboards, then became a teacher, joined the admin team, and later took a bold leap to become a co-owner of the building and business during our move and our rebirth as The Branches in 2021. Leslie has been such a key addition to our leadership team and plays a pivotal role in the creative collaboration that helped secure a sustainable future for The Branches on Samuel Street.

Together, our staff feels more like an extended family than a workplace. There have been countless potlucks, board game nights, meal trains during illness, help with moves, painting parties, baby showers, retreats, and many moments spent sitting in a circle, sharing and listening with care.

Our time together has unfolded across many spaces — Queen Street, Samuel Street, parks, our deck, my mom’s backyard during the pandemic, the public library, and the art gallery. It also extends outward through the many places our 137 Yoga Teacher Training graduates have gone on to share yoga. Along the way, our approach to movement has evolved too. We’ve expanded to include functional movement, Functional Range Conditioning, the Tensegrity Repair Series, and now — with a lot of joy and enthusiasm — lifting dumbbells and barbells in our Strength Essentials classes (huge gratitude to Nicole for her outstanding leadership there).

And we’ve done much more than just move together. There have been anti-racism book clubs, fundraisers, yoga history and cultural appropriation workshops, climate change discussion groups, holiday makers’ markets, parent-baby meetups, teen drop-in nights, and community BBQs.

And finally, there are our students. Without you, none of this would exist. Whether you came for a season or have been practicing with us for years, it’s the people who show up exactly as they are — sharing smiles, breathing together, and practicing side by side — who have sustained this studio for two decades. There are hundreds of you who have attended over 100 classes over the years, and a handful who have attended over 1,000. That’s more than 41 full days spent practicing with us! We are deeply grateful to each and every one of you for being part of our story.

These past 20 years have been shaped by the people who’ve gathered here — roots deepening, branches reaching, seasons changing. Thank you for growing this community with us. Here’s to the next 20 years together.

Yours,
Leena

5 Unexpected Lessons from my Yoga Nidra Practice

This post was written by Kimberley Luu, who is offering a Trauma-Informed Yoga Nidra Teacher Training through The Branches, starting in January 2026.

Years ago, I committed myself to yoga nidra practice. I had a vision that if I
kept training, I’d eventually never have to deal with this pesky condition
called insomnia again. I thought I would be able to enter conscious, deep
sleep with the snap of my fingers and live vibrantly off less hours of sleep. I
imagined mastering relaxation, but only for the covert purpose of being
“productive”; never missing a day of work due to burnout again.
Today, it’s amusing to reflect on the naivety of these dreams. Indeed, I was
a little off… yet, I feel no inkling of disappointment or regret. I’m no Swami
Rama (the renunciate who shocked scientists with his superhuman rest
abilities), but I did end up learning a lot of other valuable lessons.

  1. Losing consciousness is not a good measure of sleep quality.

    You can be wide awake and deeply resting. You can also be fast asleep and spiraling in restlessness. 
    This is one of the first statements that Swami Satyananda makes in his foundational book, yet, learning this first hand is something that has taken a huge burden off my shoulders. Regular sleep is important, but I’m no longer as concerned about being completely unconscious for the entire night.

    For instance, if I’m anxious and wide awake for my last couple sleep
    cycles, I engage in a yoga nidra technique which involves broadening awareness, softening the mental grips around thoughts, and letting them unfold in a larger container of acceptance and kindness. 

    Same goes for naps—I just lie down, close my eyes, and broaden
    awareness. It doesn’t matter if I fully clock out. I know in my heart that this is still quality rest.

  2. Experiencing insomnia once in a while is normal and okay.

    During my initial stages of chronic-insomnia recovery, I still felt on edge about its potential return. Even one night of sleeplessness would spike my fears of relapse. But with yoga nidra training embodied, I am now confident that I have the tools to come back to balance, even if I have a bad night or two. I know I’ll be tired for a bit, but that’s okay. I’ve grown greater acceptance that experiencing some insomnia is just a part of being human, and it’s unrealistic to expect otherwise. Life happens, situations happen—stressful ones, and even exciting ones, like the night before my wedding day, when I didn’t sleep a wink! 😉

  3. Attachment to “perfect relaxation” only breeds suffering. 

    Although my initial goals involved “mastering” relaxation, I slowly dropped this when it became clear that this was only creating tension in my body.  What I’ve realized is more important than constant relaxation is the cultivation of spacious awareness. Rather than suppressing our stressful experiences, yoga nidra trains us to embrace all arising perceptions in a broader mental container. We allow all experiences to be as they are—whether that experience is bliss or a stormy mess. This shift in orientation is what’s truly healing and liberating.  So, I’m no longer attached to the experience of relaxation as much as I was before. It’s as fleeting as the wind, but spacious awareness is always here. 

  4. Better than yoga nidra’s benefit of “productivity” is its ability to
    reveal what matters most.

    Yes, yoga nidra can make you productive in the sense of giving you the capacity to do more: it mitigates stress and anxiety, enhances alertness, and refreshes cognitive resources. However, more valuable is its ability to gently reveal what is truly meaningful. By slowly peeling away the layers of conditioning (which are
    often under the influence of modern hustle culture), we come into greater connection with our life purpose(s) and guiding core values.
    Through this process, we may find ourselves gradually shifting from the endless race to the top, towards intentional work that supports what genuinely matters to us.

  5. Practice doesn’t grow more complex over time… it gets
    unbelievably simple.


    One of the aspects of yoga nidra practice that I initially found so helpful was that it provided structured steps on how to chill. This was much more effective than receiving the classically unhelpful advice: “just relax!” My mind craved constant activity, and yoga nidra told me precisely what to focus on, offering various techniques that kept me engaged until it ushered me into deep, conscious rest.

    Yet, as I’ve grown more familiar with this state, it has become increasingly easier to visit again, without having to take so many steps. While it’s still great to be able to lean on those steps whenever I need them, most of the time now I enjoy a simplified practice: resting in my heart space, broadening awareness, and surrendering to what is.

.

Want to explore a deeper relationship with yoga nidra and maybe
even share it with others? Kimberley’s Trauma-informed Yoga Nidra Teacher Training begins with a 6-week Deep Dive course, which provides a supportive container for long-term personal practice.  This is followed by 2 facilitator training weekends, which will equip you with all the tools you’ll need to confidently share yoga nidra from the heart.

when sleep hygiene isn’t enough

This post was written by Branches teacher Kimberley Luu. Kimberley offers Yoga Nidra courses, workshops and Yoga Nidra facilitator training (details coming soon!) through The Branches.

It had been 2 weeks of running off 0-2 hours of sleep per night when I visited the doctor’s office.

Within 10 minutes, I was sent home with a list of sleep hygiene tips and a prescription for sleep meds.

I followed the doctor’s orders to a T. Yet, sleep was still elusive.

Over the next 4 months, subsequent visits to different doctors continued to leave me frustrated and confused. I’d go home with more sleep hygiene lists and prescription variations.

I followed almost every recommendation with minimal improvement. My whole body grew exhausted and numb.

At this time, I was in the middle of my grad studies in public health and this experience made me reflect on the incompleteness of sleep care in our current medical system.

It’s not that the conventional approaches aren’t important—sleep-wise behavior is essential and medication can be lifesaving in some cases. It’s just that for some folks, they aren’t enough.

For me, the missing element was yoga nidra.

It was such an effective resource that came into my life. Little by little, in conjunction with my current plan, it helped me feel rested and whole again.

Not only was I getting more hours of sleep—my mental health improved, I relied less on medication, and to my surprise, I gained insight into why I wasn’t sleeping.

In other words, the self-awareness that yoga nidra provided helped me discern the broader life changes I needed to make to find peace and sleep well again.

As a yoga nidra facilitator now, it’s been incredibly meaningful to help fill this gap in sleep care. It never gets old, hearing long-term insomnia sufferers report that they just had their first restful sleep in months.

In my upcoming workshop, Yoga Nidra for Better Sleep, you’ll learn how to precisely apply yoga nidra and other supportive therapeutic yoga tools to optimize your sleep.

We’ll get in touch with our body’s natural circadian rhythm and sleep cycles in order to harness yoga nidra most effectively.

Lastly, you’ll receive 1-year access to Restoring Rhythmic Sleep: five on-demand yoga practice videos for supporting your rest and vitality throughout the day and night.

Sleep not your forte? It’s not mine either. But yoga nidra is here to help.

Register here for Kimberley’s workshop, Yoga Nidra for Better Sleep, coming up on Sunday Sept 28.

Creating a Sensory Friendly Home Yoga Environment

🧘‍♀️ How to Create a Sensory-Friendly Home Yoga Environment for Brain and Nervous System Health by Branches Teacher Alissa Firth-Eagland

Follow-up to Alissa’s post “Yoga for Your Brain” published on The Branches Blog October 2023. 

For folks who may want to manage their symptoms by not reading on a screen but instead watching or listening to a video, click here for a 3 minute video version of this blog: Create a Sensory-Friendly Home Yoga Space | Brain + Nervous System Support

Whether you’re managing post-concussion symptoms, nervous system dysregulation, chronic pain, or everyday sensory overload, your home yoga space can be more than just a corner of the room—it can be a healing refuge.

In Yoga for Your Brain, we explored how yoga supports your brain’s plasticity and recovery. Today, let’s bring that insight home—literally. We’ll look at how to create a sensory-friendly home yoga environment that gently supports your body and brain.

🌿 Why Sensory-Friendly Matters at Home

Many people recovering from brain injuries or living with heightened stress are especially sensitive to sensory input: harsh lights, background noise, tight clothing, or cluttered spaces can be overwhelming. 

In yoga, there can be many goals, including going outside your comfort zone and challenging yourself physically and mentally. This is not that type of practice. Think as cozy as possible! Aim to create conditions that calm you. A sensory-friendly environment helps regulate your nervous system, making it easier to breathe deeply, move mindfully, and truly rest.

🏡 Step-by-Step: Building a Home Practice Space That Soothes

You don’t need a dedicated yoga room. Just a little intention can transform any space into a supportive sanctuary.

✨ 1. Light: Soft and Dim

  • Choose a space with natural light, or use a soft, warm lamp (think salt lamp or dimmable bulb). 
  • Avoid harsh overhead lighting and flickering bulbs. Personally I prefer incandescent bulbs to the newer styles because they seem to vibrate less to my eyes. Some concussion people find it hard to look at candlelight. 
  • Try practicing with an eye mask or soft eye pillow during rest poses.

🔉 2. Sound: Gentle and Controlled

  • Reduce background noise with a white noise machine or fan.
  • You might enjoy practicing with no music, letting your breath be your rhythm.
  • If participating in a virtual class, pick instructors with instructions so clear, you can choose not to watch the video and only listen.

🧘 3. Touch: Comfort is Key

  • Wear soft, breathable, non-restrictive clothing. Bonus points if you wear PJs so you can roll into bed after practice! 
  • Practice on a thick mat. Layer it with a blanket or towel for extra cushion.
  • Gather your props: bolsters, blocks, blankets, straps, or pillows can make poses more comfortable—especially restorative ones.

🧺 4. Declutter: Clear the Visual Field

  • A visually busy room can be overstimulating. Tidy the space before practice if possible. I learned this from my yoga teacher: taking the time to prepare and clean the space gets you in the right frame of mind for practice. It is a form of saucha. For me, sweeping and wiping down the floor before I place my mat is a fave ritual to get ready for yoga. 
  • You don’t need perfection—just a calm corner with a bit of order. Sometimes it is better to practice amongst the dust bunnies than not at all. 
  • A folded blanket, plant, or treasured object can signal “this is a space for care.”

🌀 Tips for Practicing at Home with Sensory Awareness

  • Slow it down. Reduce the pace and number of poses. The slower you move, the more time your brain has to process. Take the time to experience the shape or movement. 
  • Avoid fast vinyasa styles that can spike blood pressure or cause disorientation.
  • Repeat familiar movements. Routine can reduce cognitive load and boost comfort.
  • When you are extra tired, use grounding poses like Child’s, Legs on the Chair, or Constructive Rest Pose (CRP). Liz Koch has a beautifully gentle spine practice in CRP you can do with or without a core ball. 
  • Anchor to your breath by inhaling and exhaling through your nose. This sends the message to your brain that there is no immediate threat. Even a short breath practice can help calm your nervous system.

💻 Setting Up for Online Yoga Without the Overwhelm

If you’re using Branches On Demand or another virtual platform, here’s how to make your screen time supportive:

  • Lower screen brightness and sound to a comfortable level.
  • Headphones or external speakers might sound better than built-in laptop speakers, depending on your sound sensitivity.
  • Choose videos with slow pacing, fewer transitions, and simpler production.
  • Avoid rapidly changing visuals.

🌱 Practice That Feels Like a Gift, Not a Task

Your home practice doesn’t need to be fancy—aim for feeling safe and supported. With a few thoughtful choices, you can create an environment that welcomes your body, calms your senses, and supports your brain in healing.

Start by adjusting just one element: lighting, clothing, background noise—whatever feels most pressing. Your nervous system will notice. Over time, those tiny changes can stack up into a powerful shift.

🧘‍♀️ Ready to Begin?

If you or someone you love are living with concussion or brain injury, I invite you to register for my Yoga for Concussions course with this 10% off Affiliate Code: AFFILIATE10. This course is designed to meet you right where you are—at home, with a tired body, a sensitive system, and a deep need for rest and recovery. 

** If funds are low and the Affiliate price still doesn’t fit your budget, please reach out to alissa@gardenvariety.ca to hear other options. Concussion and head injury can profoundly impact survivors’ capacity to work. No one will be turned away due to a lack of funds. **

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Your yoga teacher has problems too

Levi Larivee (he/they) is a grad of our 2023-2024 YTT program. Levi is Community Inclusion & Outreach Worker and a yoga teacher currently living in B.C. 

When I first started practicing, I would stare at the person at the front of the room who seemed to be moving so peacefully and seamlessly through poses I couldn’t figure out. I would do them backwards and respond in silly ways to cueing- then look up to the front of the room and be so embarrassed that I wasn’t doing what everyone else was. My face would get red, then I would stumble even more, lose my breathe, and just sit down on my mat because I couldn’t catch up. After class I would joke and make light of how embarrassed and hurt I was so no one could tell how ashamed I was that I couldn’t keep up in a yoga class. Everyone who could move through the poses, keep their breathe, not be sweating incessantly, I felt lesser than. Watching them move so gracefully, I just knew that they had made it to the otherside. The side of life where tough things stop touching you, stop hurting you. The side where no one has unhealthy coping mechanisms and never eats deep-fried food. Everyone loves them, they never have any problems because they’re so “zen” that nothing can penetrate their meditative bubble.

I truly believed that my yoga teachers lived like that. I would have done anything to be on the other side. Well imagine my surprise when I found out that my yoga teachers were human beings, too. They weren’t Gods. They eat “too much” cake sometimes (if that’s even possible), cry when days don’t turn out how they expected, get a little bit too mad some days. They have problems too. Now I am a yoga teacher, and I still eat fast food, get grumpy when I haven’t slept, and have some bad habits that I cant seem to kick. Sometimes I’m even too stressed to meditate, imagine that!

All of this to say, yoga teachers are just people. Yes, it is a really cool job, and probably do our best to be mindful and present in our lives, but its progress not perfection. I am more than happy to still have my fair share of hardships in life, and oh-so-grateful to have a life beyond that that has been cultivated by trying to choose healthier ways of being. I’ve also learned how to show myself love when I don’t do the “healthier” things, or when I lose my temper. There is always tomorrow.

A yoga practice is an additive, it is just one delicious slice of the much bigger pie. I’ll admit, yoga definitely helps me deal more effectively and respond more compassionately, but life didn’t stop “life-ing” just because I seem super zen in my one hour yoga class. My point is, I would have saved myself alot of aching if I hadn’t assumed that my yoga teachers were all-knowing, supreme beings that had mastered how to “do” life. There is no otherside, the grass is greener where you water it. I wish I could go back and tell myself that!

But I can tell you- be gentle with yourself. No one ever stops making mistakes, no one is super calm and flowy and spiritual 100% of the time. It’s okay to not know everything. It is so nice when people are authentically themselves, because it shows people that it is super okay and encouraged for you to be exactly that. Yourself! It’s so much easier to be human when we can tell and show each other just how valued we are, on every step of the road. Lots of love, always, from your friendly neighborhood yoga teacher.

-Levi

Levi is a grad of our 2023-2024 YTT program

Connected to community

Rachel Smiley (they/them) is a grad of our 2024, 250-Hour YTT. They teach at The Move Room in Hamilton Ontario. Rachel organizes Rainbow Moves, the Move Room’s weekly queer community class.

For many queer and trans folks, the body can feel like a mystery, or something we disconnectfrom out of necessity. In a world that still regularly commits violence against queer & trans people, disconnection is an act of self-protection, but when we do this we lose out on experiencing the wholeness of our own beings. 

Our bodies are the only things that stay with us our entire lives; they work for us even when we don’t ask them to; they are the only things over which we have true autonomy. It’s within the context of mindfulness and embodiment practices that I have realized deep truths in my own life. Mindful embodiment practices such as yoga allow me to connect to my body, ask myself what I need, and then give myself exactly that, with compassion.

Communal experiences like moving, laughing, eating together shift us towards a greater sense of ease and connection with those around us. These are all experiences of the body; being disconnected from the body, therefore, prevents us from full participation. This is an oft-touted argument for the benefits of affinity spaces. Affinity spaces allow people to let their guards down, to connect over shared joys & struggles, to swap stories and share knowledge. They exist for all sorts of intersections and groups of people: new parents, religious groups, racialized folks, newcomers to Canada, hobbyists, and, of course, LGBTQ groups. Affinity spaces can take all sorts of different forms, from peer support groups to themed nights at bars to potlucks to yoga classes.

For queer and trans folks, gay bars have long existed to serve the purpose of safe/r space to gather, dance, seek information, or just be in community with each other without fear of violence or harassment. As queer liberation movements progress, we see this desire to gather in community take shape in other forms; no longer are we relegated only to dark, underground clubs. For many of us, there’s a real need to gather without the social pressure to drink, or simply a desire to experience a different kind of embodiment. As I look around where I live today in Hamilton, I see queer people organizing sports leagues, drawing nights, and clay workshops, in addition to dance parties and peer support groups.

Since January 2023, I have been organizing Rainbow Moves, a series of yoga & movement classes for queer folks at my home studio, The Move Room. I moved to Hamilton shortly before lockdowns began, and by the time 2023 came around I hadn’t had the opportunity to build queer community in the way I had in Toronto. At the time, no one else was organizing queer yoga classes in the city, and I had been a teacher with The Move Room for about a year. I knew I didn’t want to do it alone, so I invited several other queer movement instructors to join a rotating roster with me. Although this was a decision partly made for practical reasons, I have found that when I share the stage with other instructors, I’m not only able to give voice to different kinds of queer folks, but I’m also able to come into the role of participant. My hope is we are able to collaboratively weave together our own community offering, rather than it being the vision of one specific person.

When I participate in queer gatherings around my city, I grow my connection to my community. As I grow my connection to my community, I feel even more bolstered and protected. I’m able to walk in the world more bravely, because I know my people have my back. When I witness, or am party to, homophobia and transphobia, I feel protected by my community. Taking part in my community has allowed me to expand my window of tolerance for difficult situations. Being able to stay connected to my body in difficult situations means that I’m able to choose words and actions that feel in accordance with my truth. I’m better able to act with integrity, care, compassion, and loving kindness, even towards those who have wronged me. Most importantly, staying in connection with my body means that I’m better able to act with integrity, care, compassion, and loving kindness towards the only person with whom I’m in a lifelong relationship: myself.

Hip Openers / World Openers!

Clare Hitchens (she/her) is a grad of our 2024 250-Hour Yoga Teacher Training. You might meet Clare staffing our front desk some evenings, and occasionally subbing for TBY classes!

I did my first yoga practice with a physiotherapist when I was healing from a lower back injury caused by my dog bolting after a squirrel while attached to me. One day I went to see her shortly after I’d been in a car accident. Although I wasn’t injured, I was in shock, and she noticed that and offered to lead me in a yoga practice. At the end of that practice, I sat and wept, and she quietly left the room for a few minutes. When I recovered, she offered that a yoga practice can provide that kind of release of emotions, and probably for the first time I made the connection between mind and body, understanding a bit better how intertwined they are.

Once I started a regular yoga practice it became abundantly clear how it could affect my mood, and how important it was for regulating my emotions and managing daily stress along with helping me feel stronger in my body. However, there were aspects of yoga that I did not expect, and those are what I want to talk about in this post. I’m going to talk about hip openers, and I will put in a warning here about fat shaming language and sexist comments. Many of us have tight hips. We sit in office chairs, and we barely move for hours during the day. I’ve heard people proclaim their tight hips to me with what seems like pride, which is interesting. Children raised as girls and young women are taught very specific things, contradictory things, about their hips and thighs. For one, at least for my age group, we were taught to always sit with our legstogether, not to cross our knees, but only our ankles, never to sit wide legged. “Put your legs together!” could be snapped by one’s mother at any time. For another, hips were seen as places we could gain weight, and that was a thing to be avoided. Think of the saying, “a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” We said that to each other all. the. time. and thought nothing of it. Denying ourselves delicious food was accepted as normal practice to avoid weight gain. Contrasting all that would be people who made comments about someone having “good childbearing hips,” which was admiration for a wide set of hips with room for a baby. Appropriate use of a female body! Layer on sexist comments such as one made to me by a male co-worker when I was pregnant with my third child. He suggested I wasn’t taking my birth control properly and I might do better to hold the pill between my knees. So, wait, should I have good childbearing hips, or should I not have sex so I don’t get pregnant?? That’s the climate I grew up in, and I was unprepared for the effect of hip openers on my life.

In my early days of yoga it took me a while to get comfortable doing something as simple as a wide legged forward fold, never mind a reclined butterfly, in which my knees were spread wide, my ankles bound together, and my body in a very open position. It felt positively immoral! The more I practiced, however, the more I wanted those poses. Deep squats, hip rotations, a wide legged child’s pose! Gradually these poses began to feel empowering—there was a freedom in them that I craved, permission to put my body parts in any shape I chose to. And even more gradually they began to feel like second nature. What this has translated to in life outside yoga is much more comfort living in the body that I inhabit. I no longer obsess about how I look in my clothes, how I look when I’m exercising or dancing or eating, how somebody else might perceive me at any given time. I’m still human, and I still have moments of anxiety, but the freedom given to me in yoga to move my body into shapes that I choose, whenever I want, has made an impact on my life far beyond the mat.