Core Support & Nature Meditations!
Core Awakening: Strength from the Inside Out
Written by LJ
This June we’re turning up the heat in Funky Buddha Yoga’s studios–not really, we know, it’s already pretty dang hot! Butttt this month’s focus is igniting the powerhouse in the Hothouse: your core! *LJ audibly groans* Now when we say “core,” this isn’t all “GeT YoUr WaShBoARd AbS” (even though those abdominal muscles are key players in our practice). We’re focused on your entire core container; the deep internal support system that includes your diaphragm, pelvic floor, transverse abdominis, multifidus, and more more more! A healthy, responsive core impoves our posture, enhances breath, supports balance, and helps us move with ease and integrity– phew, that’s a Funkin’ lot! Whether flowing through a Funky vinyasa or tossing laundry in the dryer, your core is doing the work to keep you stable and connected.
Bringin’ it Back to Lower Cross Syndrome:
I know, I know we’ve talked about Upper and Lower Cross Syndrome at nauseum now–but really, is there ever enough chat about supporting more optimal movement? LCS is a common postural imbalance where the hip flexors and lower back muscles are a wee overly tight, while the deep core and glutes are a wee underactive. This ultimately can lead us to anterior pelvic tilt, lower back pain, and less-optimal movement patterns.
Core strength and coordination are key players in the game of supporting this imbalance. By spending time and energy on supporting the core container, we stabilize the pelvis, support the lumbar spine (low back ache’s be gone!), and counteract excessive arching or gripping in the low back.
So Why the Funk Does Core Work Matter?
So often we hear our teachers cue to “engage your core,” but what does that really mean?? A strong core container supports functional movement, stabilizes the spine, and offers control during transitions. Think: “move to the top of your mat,” rising to halfway lift, even sitting in meditation! However, core work isn’t all bracing or clenching, it’s a focus on coordinated activation and integration with breath. When breath and movement are in sync, we can access deeper strength and mobility. Breathing well is core work, balancing is core work, teeny tiny cobra lifts are core work–and we see you workin! Now we’ve identified the what and why, let’s look to how we can support the core container in allll its effortful work.
3 Ways to Engage Core Before Practice
Warming up that core container doesnt have to be intense *sigh of relief*, it just needs intention!
💎 Core-Priming Breathwork–one of the best ways to engage those abdominal muscles is simply noticing them! When you settle into your mat try practicing Diaphragmatic Breathing:
- Inhale down to the belly pit; notice expansion of ribs and belly
- Exhale fully with a pull of each core muscle, in and up
- Repeat slowly to create awareness before movement
💎 Supine Pelvic Tilts–a simple, but effective motion to awaken deep stabilizers like the transverse abdominis:
- Lie flat on your back, with knees bent as if preparing for Bridge Pose
- Exhale to press lower back against the mat (this is called a posterior tilt)
- Then, inhale to soften and release. Practice a few times to learn control for the cue “bring hip points to ribs”
💎 Tabletop Knee Hovers–A subtle, very powerful way to ignite the entire core cylinder. This is also a great Dial Up for any table!
- Begin in Tabletop with wrists beneath shoulders and knees hip-width apart
- Tuck toes and then exhale to lift knees 1-2 inches above the mat.
- Hold for a few breaths, maintaining a level back (Squeezing buns can really turn those abs on here!)
3 Ways to Engage Core During Practice
Once you’re in flow, these gentle awareness cues can help maintain steady engagement without exhaustive effort.
💎 Exhale with Effort:
We often think Exhale = Contraction and Inhale = Expansion, use your exhale during transitions and lifts to support your deep core and send energy toward activation.
💎 Draw In from All Sides:
Think of hugging your core in and up, rather than “sucking in” the front. Imagining a corset-like sensation that lifts everything from pelvic floor to lower ribs (sounds silly, but starting from holding a pee all the way to pushing a poop haha!)
💎 Use Props for Feedback:
Try squeezing a block between Chair or Bridge Pose, or loops a strap around ribs to notice expansion. Simple tools can boost our proprioception (awareness of our bodies in space) and help us move with great intention.
Practice, Practice, Practice!
At the heart of our Funky Buddha monthly focus, is simply an invitation to play in our yoga practice. This isn’t just about ab strength, it’s all awareness; when we feel our own strength, we can move in grounded trust!
Throughout June, we’ll incorporate accessible core work, breath coordination, and targeted movement into our classes at the Funky studios. From Restorative to Power Flows, we’ll support you in waking up your center with intention–and ideally, your movements on and off the mat! Growth through Practice is our mission and we hope alll this playful practice allows you to move through life with more strength, support, and confidence <3
See you on the mat, friends!
How Nature, a Snake, and a Shrew Saved my Meditation Practice
Written by Larissa
Imagine you take a kid to play in their very first baseball game: they’ve never practiced, never played, don’t know where the bats are kept, have no glove nor any other equipment–all they know is how they’ve seen professionals play. Would you expect them to feel successful their first time up to bat?
I assumed I could show up to meditation like this: no tools, never played, but I have seen people meditate and they look peaceful! So, I should be immediately great at this… That expectation set me up for failure in my meditation practice for years.
A common sentiment I hear from students new to meditation is that they think they suck at it: “It’s really hard for me to meditate.” “It’s frustrating, I thought I would be calmer right away.” “Oh, I can’t sit still so I can’t meditate!” There’s such wisdom in these sentiments, so much to be learned! What’s really being said is this: I’m uncomfortable being still with myself.
To that I say, congratulations! Of course you are! If you aren’t regularly practicing something, why would it be easy right away? Just like I would tell that kid after baseball, “It’s ok that you’re uncomfortable; you are learning a new skill! Let’s get you some practice.”
Meditation helps us see the most subtle and engrained habits we embody everyday: our thought patterning.
So much of our meditation is watching allllll the things you say to yourself and deciding if those things are helpful or not. It’s not always easy to feel how unkind I can be toward myself, to witness all the self-judgments, to see how easily I get caught in an anxiety loop, or to feel the million feelings that the barrage of thought brings. In the beginning, there’s an effort involved that’s both subtle and difficult at the same time. I used to force myself to be still. I would allow this unhelpful, often cruel, inner-voice telling me to suck it up and just do it! “Stop being a baby, Larissa, you’re just sitting here; it shouldn’t be that hard.” This was not the peaceful image I had of meditation, of someone sitting in blissful silence…
I was not allowing myself the recognition that going from 90 miles an hour to an immediate complete stop might be jarring. We’re so used to being filled with information, alerts, communication, productivity, and doing. All. The. Time. It makes sense that sitting with yourself–thoughts, feelings, images, loops, boredom, irritation, tiny moment of ease, more irritation–might be a little uncomfortable at first. I spent years feeling like I was a terrible meditator. Each session was a struggle, too much effort to become blissfully silent, rather than just observing, just being with myself. I was too results-oriented; didn’t offer enough grace with my practice.
Nature as Support
Through the help of a wise teacher, I gave myself permission to change that forceful voice in my mind that said, “you just have to sit here and bear it.” I started sitting on the earth, observing a tree, listening to bats–even the soothing, repetition that comes from stroking my sweet kitties. This brings me closer to observing myself and my surroundings, without getting caught up in them (and without my thoughts overtaking me like a freight train). These nature practices move me toward moments of equanimity: calm, truthful, compassionate, clear and even-minded, even in the face of stress.
The support, vastness, minute intricacy, connection, and the awe I experience in nature holds some of my mental confusion, chatter, and loudness. I often experience stillness more quickly when I am consciously in nature, than when I’m just trying to be still. I have also had many profound experiences with creatures, wild and tame: 2-legged, 4- legged, 8-legged, other-legged, and even trees, no-legged, and yet, sentient creatures all the same.
A stunning 5 or 6-foot, yellow and black snake crawled across my feet as I sat on a bench in a Texan botanical garden. This snake taught me about fear and awe and impermanence, all in the same breath. I had a very visceral realization that emotions are fleeting, as I felt many all at once. The second thing I observed was my chosen response to stay still; I was only able to cultivate this through looooooong bouts of practiced stillness. My natural reaction to jump was curbed by my chosen response to remain still and observe as the snake slowly and without fear, crawled to the next destination. Although honestly, I think I was paralyzed in the moment by fear, or some kind puppeteer, and only looking backward did it feel like I might have had any choice at all. Either way, I was grateful for the snake and the lessons.
A chipmunk family taught me about curiosity and play. A horse taught me about self-trust and boundaries, or lack of them. A particular ponderosa pine taught me about holding sorrow and sweetness at the same time. A turtle of stillness, a bright orange newt of presence, a spider of fear and self-love, and a wasp and a beautiful moth of struggle, and fairness, and the shortness of life.
A shrew taught me about connection. I sat with her in winter, on accident. I sat still long enough, after crunching through the ice on the ground, that she came out of her ground cover to gather a few fallen bits of sustenance in the leaf litter and snow. She paused to observe me for a few moments before deciding I wasn’t going to disturb her. She moved out of my sight as she gathered, then quickly ran back to her hole at some sound I barely perceived. I suddenly had a strong feeling of abandonment. I was feeling utterly alone in that season of my life in which I happened upon her, and had this strange notion that she too, had left me. And I felt gripped by this emotion: alone, terrified, abandoned. As I sat in the cold and tried to just be with my breath, the feeling of tiny ice fingers running from my frozen feet up to my heart; they gave me something to observe that was easier than observing myself. The cold and the beautiful frozen vista filled with melancholy blues and grays were easier for me to hold, than the feeling that each tear was like a tiny ice shard shattering into my loneliness.
As I sat with the bitter cold, the tiny shrew darted out and back in one more time, and I had a sudden reminder that we both were simply seeking out our needs. Me, the need to be able to bear being with myself, by myself. She, perhaps simply needing food. This tiny being helped me see that even on the darkest of days, and the coldest of feelings, I can still gather the things that soothe and feed me. Often, they are within me; and even if I am alone, I am never, ever separate.
During a week-long backpacking silent retreat, as I was observing the dried grasses of the Sierra Nevada’s and fearing the forest fires raging, I was also feeling the joy and comfort those dried grasses brought the animals and bugs, and the cows on the low hills, and a soft bed for us to lay down our sleeping bags, I was reminded again of connection, only this time the message was clear that I need not seek connection, but only remain in it. We are not separate, and I do not need to bridge my perceived gap of separation, only revel in, rediscover, and re-remember that we are connected. Me, the shrew, the earth, all creatures, all beings–not separate. And not even seeking connection. Just see connection. Here it is. Here we are.
We are not separate.
Most of my meditation practices are not so memorable. Just tiny little noticings of my mental states. Fleeting, impermanent, sometimes challenging to be with, sometimes lovely, but practice none the less. I’ve utilized Walking Meditations, in snow, in heat, in rain; I’ve sat with the wind caressing my skin, allowed the lake to hold my tears with me, and asked a tree to support the weight of my body as it was filled with rage and grief. Each of these practices have allowed me to step outside my comfort zone and learn so much more about loving myself, rather than forcing myself to just sit still. I’ve watched the dance of life and death and joy and beauty in a million creatures who graced me with their presence, and I believe the heart of my practice is seeing that they are me, and I am them. This requires me to put down my fears, longings, short-comings, too-muchness, desires, ingrained thought patterns, and this old idea that I am separate. I put them down, even if just for a moment, so I can remember that I am, we are, simply, fully, and authentically Love.
Practice:
Take a moment to recall a time you enjoyed yourself in nature. Was the sun out? Was there a certain scent in the air? Can you remember any sounds: wind, laughter, birds? Just recalling something like this can have a positive effect on adjusting stress hormones, your mood, and even your cardiovascular system.
Please join us in our morning meditations to explore more ways to settle your nervous system, build resilience self relationship. You don’t need to be outside to join us; crack a window, or simply place your hand on your own heart, and join our sangha (community) in our nature-based meditation practices. Learn how to hold yourself and your people with a little more ease andlove, and a little less stress <3
If you’d like to dive deeper, we invite you to join us for our monthly meditation circle!
Check out our Youtube for an overview of these concepts or a meditation practice to try them on <3
As always, we hope that you join us M-F at 7:30am for Funky Buddha Yoga’s free, live, virtual meditation to learn more practices, nuances, and dive deeper into a plethora of tools that can bring your practice off your mat and into your daily life <3
