Unfurl Into Spring - Yin Yoga & Slow Flow
- YC
- 12 hours ago
- 2 min read
Reflections on seasonal practice, Yin yoga and our upcoming Spring Workshop in Bedford
Have you noticed how nothing in nature unfolds in straight lines?
Leaves don’t open all at once.
Trees don’t grow in tidy shapes.
Change rarely arrives in neat squares and boxes.
Spring awakens gradually.
And so do we.
As we move toward the Spring Workshop, I’ve been reflecting on what this season really asks of us. Not rush. Not reinvention. But a gentle awakening.
In my shared practice, I enjoy creating a warm, welcoming space where that gradual unfolding can happen. A space to reconnect with breath and body. A space where the chittering and chattering of the mind can soften — not because we silence it, but because we give it time.
No performance. No single way it should feel.
Yin Yoga and the Meridian Lines
In Yin yoga, we stay close to the ground and hold shapes for a few minutes at a time. The practice gently reaches into the deeper tissues — hips, inner legs and side body — places where tension can quietly gather.
In spring, we often explore the Liver and Gallbladder meridian lines, which travel through these areas. In traditional Chinese medicine, these pathways are associated with growth, direction and renewal — the subtle energy of moving forward when the time feels right.
Sometimes that movement feels smooth.
Sometimes it feels tight.
Yin invites us to notice, rather than push.
For some people, stillness feels like relief. For others, it can feel unexpectedly challenging. Every body and every nervous system responds differently. There is no “right” response — only honest experience.
Movement, Pause and Yoga Nidra
Stillness is only one part of the practice.
We also warm the body through gentle, breath-led vinyasa flow. Movement helps circulate energy, loosen what feels tight and prepare us to settle more comfortably. There is space for a short pause, for connection and a warm drink, before we move toward deeper rest.
We close with Yoga Nidra — guided, meditative relaxation. The body lies supported. The breath remains natural. Awareness stays lightly present. It is not about switching off, but about allowing the nervous system to soften in a deeper way.
Some people find movement easier than stillness.
Some find rest harder than effort.
Others discover the opposite.
Like nature, we unfold in our own timing.
As we gather for the Spring Workshop — and in every class beyond it — the invitation remains the same:
Come as you are.
Move in a way that feels true.
Allow yourself to awaken gently.
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