yoga – Peacewellbeing.co.uk

About 10 years ago, I had one of the best massages I’ve ever had. It was called Chavutti Thimeral, and the therapist used her feet to literally walk all over me. Absolute bliss. I’ve been wanting to train in this style of supremely deep pressure (and supremely relaxing) massage ever since.

I was lucky enough to meet the gorgeous Robyn, of AYMChesterfield earlier this year, and she gave me an Ayurvedic Yoga Massage (AYM) that hit all the right deep-pressure spots. From that very first treatment, I knew I just had to learn how to give this massage.

When I enquired about the where in London the Ayurvedic Yoga Massage (AYM) training in the first two weeks of July would be, it was like coming full circle. The venue was in Brixton, which is where I lived when I did my Tisserand Aromatherapy training almost 20 years ago!

A fine view of the city from Brixton, taken from the top deck

It also felt serendipitous because I have a cousin who lives in Tooting, whom I could stay with, and it was only 1 bus ride from his house to the venue (with short walks either end). This is a dream commute for London! Not to mention my cousin and his wife have a beautiful house, they are both great cooks (I definitely put on weight, which is no bad thing!) and couldn’t have been more congenial hosts. I loved every minute with them.

Level one attendees, L-R me, Marie, Vivienne, Charli, Lucy & Joti (pic courtesy Despina Psarra)

The first week of the course was levels one and two, which felt as much of an unlearning for me as it was a learning. From the very first contact of the massage, the pressure is deep and meaningful. I was told off for spreading the oil and then going into the massage. The massage starts the moment you put your hands on and spreading the oil is an integral part of the treatment.

Myself and Despina using our heels for deep relaxation

We also learnt how to use our feet to massage, being careful to support our body weight with a chair or stool, and where to apply the weight so that it releases deep tension and is ultimately relaxing. It was an intense week with lots of techniques to learn, discovering new ways to utilise our bodies for healing.

Stretching out the adductor muscles (photo courtesy Despina Psarra)

The second week (levels three and four) involved learning more techniques such as stretches, tractions and joint decompressions, and putting everything together in a sequence tailored to our individual clients’ needs. AYM is a remedial massage, and we have been taught to think of the skills we’ve learnt as like tools in a tool box, you pick the tools you need to offer the best remedy for your clients.

At the end of the second week was our assessment, with a change of venue to Aldgate. A stunning apartment worthy of a magazine cover and the view from the roof garden was unbeatable! The assessment involved a brief consultation with a client and devising a treatment plan. We then proceeded to massage our clients according to the plan, using the techniques we’d learnt under the watchful eye of the course leader, Despina. I’m pleased to say that the three of us that completed the assessment all passed, with much jubilation and relief!

End of assessment smiles! L-R Despina, Joti, Vivienne and myself (photo courtesy Despina Psarra)

I still have a lot to learn, as far as piecing the techniques together (let alone remembering them all!) and until the end of September I’ll be offering half price Ayurvedic Yoga Massage. Each appointment will be 1.5 hours (I will offer 1 hour appointments once I’ve honed my skills) and will be £75 full price. To book your half price session, call or text me on 07980262358 or email Bess@peacewellbeing.co.uk

I’ve never thought of gardening as a spiritual practice before, but spending time in my garden today has inspired me to reflect on the processes involved and how they intertwine with what it means to me to grow, both spiritually and practically.

It’s not about being perfect.

My garden is not perfect. It never will be. I yearn for a lawn big enough to have a trampoline on, and enough space to host my friends, as we while away a lazy afternoon, eating, drinking and laughing together in the sun. But when I think to times when I’ve had large gardens (up to 1/2 an acre when living in Alderwasley), I think how overwhelming it was, how it was a constant pressure just to mow the lawn, let alone keep on top of the weeding, pruning and actually growing the things I wanted to grow. My present garden is tiny yet manageable for me, a little bit of time spent in it makes a big impact and it means I have time to lie back, relax and enjoy it (sunbathing is one of my favourite activities, and right now I’m multitasking by writing this whilst laid-out topping up my vitamin D).

Tiny, lots of work to be done, loving it.

Currently my garden sports a large collection of pallets, that suit my budget (ie free) but not my aesthetic. They are ugly (too square, too utilitarian, too cheap!), but useful and have been repurposed as strawberry planters, a vegetable bed and sun bathing deck. One day I shall have raised borders, with proper garden furniture and a new fence that I can safely grow things up. I’m enjoying the process, however, of getting creative with zero budget (I have wonderful friends and family who donate seedlings and cuttings to help my garden grow and develop) so that I can save money for the big stuff.

Plants aren’t perfect either. No one says “oh that birch tree is gangly”, or “that lilac smells too much, turn it down a notch” (see Hollie McNish’s poem ‘If flowers had disposable income’), and yet my garden is full of beauty, and scent, and texture, and things that bring me pleasure every day.

The work is constant

If only you could weed once and that would be it. Not even an annual event. Just the once and no more weeds, ever. But much like the negative thoughts that are a seemingly constant, internal companion, when weeds are accepted as part of the deal with life, are confronted often and early, literally nipped in the bud, they are far easier to contend with and maintain than when left to run rampant and unchecked. Don’t let them become monsters!

Gratitude

My garden also reminds me to celebrate the little things, like the promise of my strawberry plants getting flowers on them, pea shoots sprouting to the sky and the return of the stunningly deep red/brown/burgundy/purple (it changes daily) leaves on the copper beech tree on the opposite side of the road. I’m grateful I have a space I can do yoga in, dry my washing (what’s better than snuggling down into bed sheets that smell of outside?) dine alfresco on food that I’ve planted, watered, nurtured and harvested, and have water fights in with my son.

I could go on. I’m practicing the art of not being attached to outcomes, and my garden is a great proponent of this, but I think that’s a separate article, that I may or may not get round to writing. And I had to come in inside because I’d had enough time sunning my back (I didn’t realise how long this would take to explore/write when I first got started), and I can’t sun my front whilst writing this. So I’m off back outside to sunbathe a wee while longer, dig up a bit more earth, get mucky and grow things, myself included.

Tag: yoga

Ayurvedic Yoga Massage training

Gardening for the soul