For much of my adult life, I dealt with stress and anxiety by staying hyper-busy and strictly controlling what I ate and how much I exercised. While my condition was never serious enough for an intensive treatment program, decades of disordered eating habits made my life and body as constricted as my diet. I exercised for hours each day, kept careful track of caloric intake and limited myself to a miniscule number of “safe” foods: fruit, brown rice, cottage cheese and air-popped popcorn.

I tried to convince concerned friends and family that I didn’t have an eating disorder, insisting I was simply an athlete and a very strict vegetarian. Yet, as my 40th birthday approached, I finally acknowledged that I did indeed have some serious control issues. Every part of me was stiff— mentally, emotionally and physically. I wanted to laugh more, better appreciate the joys of life and learn to relax. It was time to change how I thought about my body and my life, but didn’t know where to begin.

In typical type-A fashion, I read stacks of self-help books, joined a support group, consulted a nutritionist and met with various therapists, all in pursuit of a quick cure. I finally clicked with a therapist who specializes in treating eating disorders, but I was impatient with the slow, complex process and asked for homework assignments, things that would be tangible measures of my progress. Instead, I was gently reminded that I was a human being, not a human doing. I was encouraged to be more aware of what I was doing and feeling and to accept the present without trying to change it.

This sounded great, in theory. But for someone who felt completely lost without a lengthy “to do” list in hand, simply being was a significant challenge.

From Doing to Being
My relentless pursuit of answers eventually led me to studies suggesting that many yogic principles—such as gratitude and self-acceptance—could benefit the estimated 11+ million Americans with eating disorders, and millions more with disordered eating and negative body self-image. I was encouraged to read that mindful practices, such as yoga and meditation, can help focus attention and enhance the mind-body connection.

After learning that many eating disorder treatment programs now include yoga as part of their therapeutic services, I signed up for a beginners’ workshop at my local yoga studio, where I learned to harness my breath and quiet my mind. Slowly I felt my tightly clenched muscles and self-criticism begin to relax, and soon I was taking regular classes and practicing on my own at home.

Admittedly, my at-home sessions were usually conducted in front of Tivo’d episodes of Top Chef. A die-hard multitasker, I found it nearly impossible to focus on one thing at a time. It was better when I attended a studio class, where I removed my wristwatch and tried not to think of all the errands I needed to do.

I initially gravitated toward instructors who were dancers or gymnasts, inspired by their fit physiques. Eventually, my classes became less about burning calories and more about access to a community of like-minded souls in an accepting atmosphere. Having an eating disorder can be very isolating; in yoga class, it was enough to just be here, now. This gave me the courage to examine what was at the root of my struggles with weight and body image, and to observe and experience my thoughts and emotions without judgment.

Psychologist Dr. Jonathan Simons, who teaches at Inner Power Yoga in Calabasas, says that for some students the hardest pose is savasana, or “corpse pose.” Flat on the back, eyes closed, arms and legs spread out, this final restorative pose is meant to be deeply relaxing, but can be a challenge for those who can’t turn off their mental chatter.

“The mental chatter is always with us. The goal isn’t shutting it off, which really isn’t possible, but rather quieting it down,” assures Simons. “We need to control the chatter instead of having the chatter control us.” By focusing instead on inhaling and exhaling, we develop a stronger connection to the body and the present moment.

After going to class regularly for several months, it was liberating to realize that even if I was the least flexible and most uncoordinated person in the room, no one really cared. We were all at different levels of ability and no one was perfect. No one was even trying to be perfect. The poses weren’t as important as being mindful and aware.

Some days are easier than others to be mindful, but that’s why they call it a yoga practice. Knowing that practice, not perfection, is the goal relieves the pressure to steadily advance in a linear direction. Growth can come in bits and pieces.

An Antidote to Perfectionism
We may not have complete control over things like our health, relationships and the economy, but we can train ourselves not to be thrown off course by stress. Yoga can be a key factor in the ability to live a more mindful and balanced life. For someone with an eating disorder, this means learning to truly nourish and strengthen the body.

The number of people suffering from disordered eating or distorted body image is on the rise. For some, an eating disorder can be a very serious and even life-threatening condition, and these individuals should seek qualified professional help. For others, the means to a more balanced life may be as simple as a yoga mat and a heart that’s open to change.

Getting Help
Taking the first step by seeking help for an eating disorder is essential. The Eating Disorder Referral and Information Center at www.edreferral.com offers a comprehensive zip code-organized database of eating disorder professionals, as well as useful articles and links to professionally led support groups.

—Kimberlie Nitti

Freelance writer/editor Kimberlie Nitti is founder and principal of QuarterMoon Media in Topanga Canyon. (kimberlienitti@yahoo.com)

Photo courtesy Riley Roxx

As an Ashtanga practitioner, my routine is very predictable, which I love. There’s safety and comfort in knowing what to expect. I admit it—I’m type A, a bit controlling and mildly high maintenance. But there was something about the AcroYoga I found on YouTube that called out to me. I’d watched with awe as yogis melded flexibility, strength and acrobatics into their asanas.

As if the universe were responding to my secret yearning, a teacher approached me one day after a drop-in flow class. She complimented my practice (always welcomed by my ego) and followed with an invitation: “Would you be interested in trying AcroYoga with me and a few friends?” Having just cleared the inner chatter that so often dictates my decisions, I jumped on it: “Sure!”

AcroYoga is the brainchild of Bay area yogis and acrobats attempting to combine all of their passions into a new style of yoga. Instead of practicing individually, teams of three take turns as base, flyer and spotter. One individual—the base—is grounded to the floor to serve as the active support and foundation for the flyer, providing the surface on which to perform movements. The flyer uses the base person for assistance in “flying” into the poses. The flyer is not thrust into the air, but rather, controls moves into the desired position using the base as structural support. The spotter keeps a vigilant eye on alignment and provides a safety net should someone tumble.

Anxious sweat brewing, I entered the teacher’s home studio the following afternoon. I had no idea what to expect or even if my body would be able to participate; after all, it had been 26 years since I’d done gymnastics. A warm hug from my instructor quickly put my fears to rest.

The makeshift class consisted of three of us, which seemed ideal for my first attempt at something so foreign. We began by sitting in a circle and responding to a prompt of “What made you laugh today?” After a few trust- and community-building exercises, we began our workout.

Next thing I knew, I was flying! Uptight, control freak me, up in the air looking like an apprentice for Cirque du Soleil. We warmed up in “folded leaf” and moved on to more challenging poses, each taking turns as base, flyer and spotter, absorbing the importance and responsibility of each role. The session was filled with laughter, concentration, beautiful postures, awkward poses with our faces in places that seem more appropriate for intimate moments, and clumsy falls. Everything was exactly as it should be. Closing the class with a bit of Thai massage tied a spectacular bow on an amazing experience.

Sarah Vosen, a certified instructor in Santa Monica, describes AcroYoga as “a partner-based practice combing yoga, acrobatics and Thai massage; honoring all three lineages to build a heart-based community.” She outlines the foundation of the practice as “a balance of dynamic strength and fluid flexibility, along with unconditional loving-kindness.”

There are two styles of flying, she explains, therapeutic and acrobatic. “The therapeutic flyer is completely relaxed, passive and receptive. During acrobatic flying, the flyer participates more actively to make moves happen powerfully.” In either case, she continues, “the base is always engaged and active.” AcroYoga usually does not use props, relying solely upon the strength of the triad.

“It can be difficult to feel open to others in a fun, childlike way, but AcroYoga gives permission to play,” notes Vosen, who says the classes she teaches are appropriate for all levels: yogis, non-yogis, beginners and experts. It is an open community that embraces all levels. If feeling intimidated by the very thought of it, Vosen assures, “There is no need for a lot of skill, just a willingness to play, trust and communicate.”

What surprised me the most was that it all seemed within the realm of possibility—maybe not at that moment, but in time. For me personally, AcroYoga has provided a space to continue to challenge myself, let go and not take myself so seriously. The Baba Hari Dass quote that has been adopted by the AcroYoga community sums it up perfectly: “Work honestly, meditate every day, meet people without fear, and play.”
—Amy Crawford

Where to Fly in Los Angeles
Strength and inversion training: Tuesdays & Thursdays 8–9:15am at Palisades Park, Santa Monica
AcroYoga all levels: Fridays 8–10pm at Urth Yoga, 2809 West Sunset Blvd., Silverlake 90026, 213.483.9642.
AcroYoga all levels by donation: Sundays 12–1:30pm at The Hub, 2001 S. Barrington Ave., Ste. 150, West Los Angeles 90025, 310.575.4200.
Go to acroyoga.org for more information.

Photo courtesy Gary Begley

The tropical pavilion where I was about to perform was awash with color. Meditation teachers in orange and white, clergy robed entirely in orange, and hundreds of devotees in summer pastels waited patiently for our guru, who would soon address and bless us from the flower-laden stage.

My own clothes for this achingly important retreat had been lost by the airline, so amidst such profusion of sensual color, I was clad in hastily borrowed, unfamiliar garb. Further humbled by sweaty days of meditation and nights of cramped-floor sleep, I abandoned any thought of personally inspiring the crowd. All I could do was concentrate on the guitar strings under my fingertips and my oft-rehearsed vocal technique. Spirit would have to do the rest.

Devotional singing is central to most spiritual traditions. Music has well-known powers to soothe the mind, open the heart and amplify group intention, which was exactly why I’d been invited to participate in this event. The throat chakra is a brilliant transformer of energy, and the yoga culture lends itself to magnificent vocal artistry in many styles. But how does yoga practice itself affect singers?

As a voice teacher and speech therapist, as well as a long-time student of yoga and meditation, I’m not surprised to hear many people say that yoga has helped their voices. Relaxation, balanced strength, breathing, concentration—all are nicely in sync with singing technique. Unfortunately, some find themselves with vocal problems that seemed to begin when they started or changed yoga routines. It’s important to be aware of what yoga practice will best serve your vocal instrument.

Finely Tuned System

Inside your voice box, or larynx, your vocal cords function as a valve in the airway, and they are exquisitely sensitive to airflow. They can get dry, tired or irritated if the airflow is too forceful. If the airflow is too weak, cords tend to tighten and squeeze, rubbing against each other and thickening over time. So while hatha yoga postures (asanas) are generally good for singers, the way you use your breath during those postures is even more important. Advanced breathing exercises (pranayama) should be approached with extra care.

The singing breath does not use the balanced, equal-in-and-out rhythm common to most yoga teaching. Voice production requires a very swift inhalation followed by a long, slow exhalation. You do this automatically when you talk, but it takes practice to quickly inhale enough to sing and then exhale very gradually. Try occasional cycles of breathing in quickly and out slowly during your asanas, with a relaxed throat, to reinforce this asymmetrical rhythm.

Some yoga teachers train a particular sequence of inhalation, such as drawing air into the belly first, then the waist, then the upper chest. These techniques are not harmful, but when singing, you don’t have time to inhale in stages—the whole breath system must open simultaneously. Again, just being aware of the difference can help you switch gears from yoga practice to vocal rehearsal.

You need to protect those sensitive vocal cords, which are vulnerable to dryness and fatigue when vigorous forms of audible breathing, sometimes called ujaya, are focused in the throat. The louder the breath sounds and the longer such practice, the greater the risk of vocal cord irritation.

I’ve treated more than one person for vocal nodules (callouses) that seemed to be caused primarily by intense ujaya practice. If you do this type of pranayama, place the friction higher, near the soft palate, and allow at least half an hour of rest before vocalizing.

In general, politely avoid any teacher who always wants to hear you breathe. Effective breathing for most styles of yoga can be totally silent, and experienced teachers can check on you by sight rather than sound. Vocalists need this extra safety to avoid drying the cords.

What the larynx really likes is moisture. Fortunately, the tropical breezes were humid and sweet the day I sang for my guru.

—Joanna Cazden

Safe Singing Secrets

• Meditation is useful for counteracting stage fright, as well as relaxing and energizing your throat.
• Don’t force yourself to sing or chant when you’re hoarse, such as during a cold or after a loud party. Chant mentally for a few days instead. If vocal expression is your dharma, it is proper (not wimpy) to protect it.
• Don’t perform neck-intense postures, such as shoulder stand, headstand, plow or fish for six weeks after vocal surgery, or until cleared by your health practitioner.

—JC

Joanna Cazden, author of How to Take Care of Your Voice, is a Burbank-based voice specialist (voiceofyourlife.com).

Annmarie Solo’s Saturday morning yoga was about to begin, and as I turned first one way, then the other in a warm-up spinal twist, I glanced oh-so-casually around the studio hoping to recognize Donna De Lory, whom I’d previously seen only on stage. At last summer’s Bhakti Fest she’d been a clear standout with a unique sound and presence; there was plenty of great music happening, but it was De Lory who got me dancing in the desert heat. At the time I had no idea—but perhaps could have guessed—she was a veteran of six world tours with Madonna.

De Lory didn’t make it to the class we’d planned to take together, much as she usually loves it. When you have two small children and a music studio in your Topanga Canyon home, and you’re in the middle of a remix and getting ready for yet another tour . . . well, life happens. But I might not have recognized the petite singer even if her mat had been bumped right up to mine. When we met later for lunch she was wearing not a speck of makeup, and at 45, this dynamic performer who lights up a stage could, in everyday life, be mistaken for a local high school girl.

The Tender Years

De Lory’s own high school years were difficult. Her mother died when Donna was 16, and her musician/producer dad moved the family from Calabasas to Nashville. She’d already been singing for many years and loved living on Nashville’s “music row,” where spontaneous jams were as common as broken guitar strings. But although the country music community clearly touched her soul, it was not her music. De Lory missed the city, and it wasn’t long before she headed back west.

Shortly thereafter, she discovered yoga. Initially it was intended to help her with her dancing, but Rod Stryker’s class also gave her another taste of the spiritual. Possibly she tapped into her memories of singing along to her dad’s records—George Harrison chanting “Hare hare, rama rama” on “My Sweet Lord.” Or maybe it reminded her of chants drifting over from the Hare Krishna temple during family vacations in Laguna Beach. In any case, she got what she needed to open her body and protect herself from injury, and then went back to dancing. It would be several years before Madonna’s consistent practice inspired her to get back to yoga.

Meeting Madonna

The two singers met in 1987 when Madonna was holding auditions. De Lory was out of the star’s range of vision, singing her heart out on La Isla Bonita, when, she recalls, Madonna “turned around and practically yelled at me, ‘Why aren’t you singing?’” She was, of course, and when Madonna realized how well their voices blended, she immediately enlisted the younger singer.

“Madonna brought me out into the world, more into world music,” says De Lory, between sporadic bites of goat cheese and field greens. “All that touring with her obviously satisfied my dancing and singing, but also gave me a different picture of the world and my place in it.”

Touring can mean either late nights on the town or quiet ones in a hotel room, which is what De Lory chose. “I was reading a lot of mythology at that time. Joseph Campbell. I’d always sung other people’s songs, but now I started to write lyrics off these things I was reading.”

Flash forward to “a huge record deal” with MCA Universal, which hoped to position De Lory as the next Madonna. She had some successes but by her second record, “I was completely into world music. I wanted to do pop songs with world sounds, percussion . . . They wanted me to just be pop, dancey.” Ultimately De Lory left to form her own label and recreate her music career.

She discovered mantras and began incorporating chants into her pop songs (here she unselfconsciously demonstrates), which gradually evolved into devotional songs. “It just naturally flowed,” she says, almost as if they were coming through her. And when listeners told her that her music had helped them through emotional and spiritual pain, that was “the ultimate,” she had found her true musical path.

“The lyrics I wanted to write were about healing,” she realized. “Evolving myself to experience unconditional love. I wanted to stop writing songs about being hurt, being a victim, because I just didn’t relate to that stuff any more.”

Her songs are her mantras. “I have to sing them every night and I want them to be positive,” she affirms. “I don’t want to be saying over and over, ‘You dumped me, you’re gonna pay!’ I’ve gone through a lot in my life but I want to come from an empowered place.”

Finding Her Groove

So then, she’s a devotional singer? Well, yes. And no. With chanters like Deva Premal or Krishna Das, there is no question. You know what you’re getting when you go to one of their concerts, and it’s pretty wonderful,

but De Lory takes a different approach. She’s stopped making set lists and instead tunes into what each particular audience wants to hear, blending world music, Sanskrit chants, Christian hymns and pop into a unique alchemical creation that seems to hit listeners just right. The result? Madonna followers love her almost as much as the yoga community does.

De Lory found her voice with the harmonium in devotional music, and that, she says, is her mellow side. But her roots are in dance, and her current project, a remix, has more of a dance beat.

Asked what she’ll play at Lilith Fair this summer (where she is a bit of an anomaly on the program), De Lory says, “I can so see me doing He Ma Durga. This is a female empowering festival and I would preface it with, ‘This is my connection to being a mother and this is my prayer.’ When I first did this song I had just had my baby, I was a single mom. I found He Ma Durga and it was just my mantra. Then I start singing Ave Maria over it, cause this was a piece that my nana always wanted me to sing. She was like my mother, my nurturer, so I’ve made that my divine mother piece.”

Becoming the Mother

Traditional religions could learn a thing or two from De Lory. For her last album, Sanctuary, she took a Christian hymn, mixed it with a kirtan beat and made it a favorite at yoga studios. She sings me a line or two, nods a few bars and explains, as if it should be perfectly obvious to everyone, “It’s more about the intent, no matter what deity you’re naming. It just gives reference to the idea of embodying more unconditional love and feeling the connection of oneness. I want my music to sum up those simple truths, so when people are singing the songs or chanting along they can just get to that place. It opens your heart to that yummy stuff. Forgiveness. Surrendering.”

Asked if she has a guru, De Lory replies, “Many.” Among them are surely her two adored children, integrative medicine M.D. husband Robert, and perhaps Amma. “Amma has come to me in my dreams and they always say that’s a sign that it’s your guru,” she says, seemingly equivocating. “In my dream I somehow had big wings and she told me I needed to open my wings and inside them was food, and I needed to draw people in and feed them. But it was all a metaphor. It was as if she were saying, ‘You’re the nurturer. The mother.’”

It wasn’t always that way. Perhaps because she stumbled into adulthood without a mother, being a nurturer had never appealed to her. “I grew up wanting to have a big career and be out in the world,” she says. “It was more male energy, conquer the world.” And then . . . “I’m sitting in a Hong Kong club and have to go do my dance thing and I’m not going to run into anyone who loves me or cares about me,” she remembers, sounding suddenly very young. “So much illusion. I had a hit but I was so unhappy. Everything I thought I wanted was really empty.”

Not long after that, she tells me, she was at Madonna’s studio one night with her seven-month-old baby. “Madonna was talking about her career and stuff going on with her family, not sleeping, family life being sacrificed, and I asked her, ‘Is it worth it?’ “And I expected her to tell me her thing.

“And she looked right back at me and said, ‘You need to ask yourself that.’

“She just nailed me. I was always comparing myself to her, thinking that was my road, and it was like, No, Donna, we just have to be on our own path.”

Leave the mat but take the awareness

By Annette O’Neil

You may not think people are really listening to you, but here’s a little secret: they are. They’re paying rapt attention, actually, to everything your voice and body are communicating—and that can sometimes be a problem. Due to a lifetime of bad habits, there can be an obvious conflict between what we’re trying to say and what others perceive. The good news? Yoga gives us the tools to change those bad habits and allow ourselves to be truly understood and to understand others.

Practicing awareness of the body is as vital in our daily interactions as it is on the mat. Most of us allow our bodies to constantly misrepresent our meanings when we communicate, and that misrepresentation leads to an abundance of misunderstandings. In the yoga studio we have a teacher to help us with adjustments and corrections; in the charged space of face-to-face conversation, we’re on our own.

The rules of body language are complicated, but the basics are very rooted in yoga. First, open your heart—don’t cave in when you’re trying to communicate, rounding your shoulders and shielding your body with your arms. Allow yourself to lean into the moment, however slightly. Mind your eyes; as in the studio, your body will follow them. If your gaze floats helplessly around the space you’re in, so will the conversation. Finally, mind your breath. Breathe into the connection you’re making. It makes a world of difference.

The Fifth Chakra

In traditional Indian medicine our powers of communication spring from the fifth chakra, located in the throat. When this energy center is balanced, we’re empowered to express ourselves and our ideas clearly and lovingly. The chakra falls out of balance when it is under- or overstimulated, muddying our capacity to connect. Symptoms of overstimulation include aggressiveness in speech, egoistic displays and a compulsion to control conversations. Insufficient stimulation manifests in withdrawal, insecurity and vagueness.

Mindful listening will help to balance an overstimulated chakra. For most people with this issue, breathing into the conversation and deeply listening to the other party—not just waiting for your turn to talk—is incredibly challenging. The best approach is to start solo. Really listen to the individual instruments of a piece of music, words of a guided meditation, or sounds of nature when outdoors. Draw the sound in with your breath, allowing the fullness of your body to receive and absorb it. With daily practice, you’ll become more at ease with the process.

Communicators with the opposite issue—under-stimulation—must become comfortable with their own voices. As with the previous group, it helps to start solo. Memorize and recite passages and poems, read aloud to your dog or sing in the shower. Over time you’ll begin to dissolve the protective shell you’ve developed. Then go deeper—start small conversations with strangers who pass through your daily life, trusting yourself to make new connections. Eventually that trust will build balance.

Both conditions will be infinitely helped with a bit of studio work. Let your mind rest in your fifth chakra while you get silly with a lion pose, for instance. Open your heart and throat by going deep into camel.

In traditional Indian medicine the throat chakra is associated with the color blue, so if you’re preparing for an important conversation or will be addressing a group, wearing or carrying something in the color blue will support your efforts.

Remember Namaste

Every yogi is familiar with the term namaste, which means that we recognize our common divine spark, that “The God within me bows to the God within you.” It has resounding implications in the act of human communication, beautifully describing the inherent equivalence between all people, making it clear that we are all linked. Remembering this can make it much easier to express yourself, almost as if you are talking to . . . yourself.

The next time you’re in a conversation with someone, particularly if it is feeling awkward, practice experiencing namaste in that moment. See the divine in yourself, in that person, and in the space between you. Our sacred connection must be acknowledged, honored and respected in order for true communication to take place.

Annette O’Neil is a freelance copywriter who practices the yoga of words in her work every day (annette@clevergingercreative.com).