My family has a Summer house in Vermont, in the woods, near a lake. Such a peaceful place to practice yoga. I often practice on the screened in porch where I can enjoy the birdsong as my musical soundtrack while keeping the mosquitoes from eating me alive. Meditation on the porch is other worldly, feeling the breeze, smelling the ferns, and hearing tremelo of the loons on the lake.
One day I decided to practice at the lake. There is a dam area that is quiet and somewhat secluded. It seemed to be the perfect spot to practice, as it was also relatively level. I sprayed myself with bug repellent and headed out with my mat.
I was surprised by how challenging it was to practice outside, but it met me with rewards I didn’t anticipate. I found myself even more present and aware of every pose, intentionally connecting my feet to the earth. Normally when I practiced there was a solid wood floor beneath me. Outside, even though the dirt and grass was relatively level, there were many uneven divots that I had to navigate just to keep my balance.
Drishti
The other thing that challenged my balance was the far away drishti. A Drishti, or gaze, is where you focus your eyes on something specific while you practice. Vision is important for balance, whether you are standing on two feet, one foot, your hands, or your head. Focusing your gaze on a single point helps you stay upright (or upside down). While it’s possible to balance with your eyes closed, I don’t recommend it, especially if you are first starting out.
The next time you practice Tree pose/Vrksasana, try closing your eyes. It’s harder than it looks!
When I practiced in a yoga studio, I focused my eyes somewhere on the wall in front of me. That Drishti was only a few feet away and I could see it clearly. When I practiced yoga at the lake, I was gazing across the lake and was amazed at how difficult it was to balance, even with both feet on the ground. As a former dancer, whose balance is usually spot on, this shook my idea of who I was as a yoga practitioner. I shifted off of autopilot and instead came fully into my body at each moment.
Falling over was a lesson in its own right. I could have cursed myself for falling over, shaming myself for not having “perfect” balance on this uneven surface, or I could accept that I lost my balance, shake it off, and try again. I found the second option to be more helpful than the first. Staying present and accepting what was allowed me to learn how to stabilize my balance. Feeling my feet on the ground, spreading my toes, and paying full and complete attention to what I was doing made all the difference.
It’s natural to get frustrated when things don’t go as you planned. Yoga teaches us to let go of our attachment to those plans and be with what is. Falling over is part of learning to balance. If you get angry at yourself every time you fall, that frustration builds up and impairs your physical abilities. When you can start over with a clean slate each time you fall, you have a better chance of finding your balance.
Take a deep breath in, a slow breath out, and begin again.
Nature as your soundtrack
Often when I practice yoga at home, I play music. Not usually “yoga music,” but other music that carries me through my practice. I can get into ruts, following particular yoga sequences that are comfortable and familiar. Playing different types of music pulls me out of those familiar patterns in favor of creativity. I find different poses or movements in sequences that I haven’t done before.
Outside, nature is my soundtrack. There are so many sounds when you stand outside, no matter where you are. Whether you are in a city, the woods in Vermont, or somewhere else, the cacophony is something to behold. You might hear the sounds of wildlife, cars, other people, motors, or airplanes. Both natural and man-made sounds abound. Have you noticed how you relate to those sounds?
I had a yoga teacher many years ago who said you should be able to meditate on Broadway in New York City and have the same experience as you do in a cave in the mountains. Allowing all of the sounds to wash over you, giving them permission to exist, is how you make that happen. You can feel frustrated by all the noise, or you can allow it to be the soundtrack to your yoga or meditation practice.
You will feel less stress in your body when you accept what is.
Feet on the earth
Feeling your bare feet on the earth is incredibly grounding. Some people call it “earthing.” For me, it’s a powerful way to get out of my head and back into my body. Feeling your feet connecting to the dirt pulls me out of the “shoulds” in my head and connects me to the moment I am in.
It’s similar to the feeling of my feet in the sand at the beach or on the ocean floor as the waves lap the shore. Dirt between my toes makes me feel wild and part of nature. I feel a connection to something bigger than myself, as if I could drop roots from the soles of my feet down into the earth, anchoring myself there. Tree pose takes on a whole new meaning. Even if you practice yoga on a mat outside, you are that much closer to the earth. If your mat is made of something natural, like rubber, even better.
Feeling your feet in the grass, sand, or dirt is as natural as it comes. Yes, there might be bugs. What if you allowed those bugs to crawl over your feet and continue on their way? It may tickle or itch, but in the grand scheme of things, this will not harm you. There are some bugs that can cause harm, but you can see this as practice of acceptance and being with what is. You control what you can (apply bug spray or wear bug repellent clothing) and let everything else go.
I remember taking a meditation class outside and there were ants all over the place. I found myself constantly distracted by the ants crawling on me. Then I decided to just let them be. I found an inner stillness that hadn’t been there when I was constantly swiping the ants away. They did their thing, I noticed the sensation, and we both went on with our day.
If bugs freak you out, this might not be a practice for you. Or, if you feel up to it, you can face your fears and try to breathe while letting go of things you can’t control. There is no judgement either way. Do what serves you best.
Outdoor yoga
Over the Summer I teach Outdoor yoga and meditation. I love teaching this class, not only because it’s in person, but because it’s outside. Feeling the sun (or shade) on my skin, the dirt and grass under my feet, and the breeze on my face enhances the experience of practicing yoga.
We get the man-made sounds like cars and leaf-blowers, as well as the sounds of multiple types of birds, squirrels, dogs, and more. Focusing your attention on your poses while listening to nature’s soundtrack is a magical part of practicing outdoors. Letting the sounds be part of your practice dissolves you into the moment. The peace you feel when you leave class stays with you, and is the perfect way to start the weekend.
Join me in person every Friday morning July 11-August 15 from 8:30-9:45am in Wayland, MA. Click the button below for more information or to sign up!
Do you practice yoga outside? What is your favorite place to practice? Have you found it challenging or does it enhance your experience? Comment below!
I love Vermont! I had and still have some family in the Montpellier area. I'm barefoot as often as I can be in the summer.