Dear Humans,
I have everything and nothing to say this morning.
Sometimes it’s like that, isn’t it?? And sometimes that’s literally what I say to start my yoga classes, too.
I tell them “I have so many things I want to say that sometimes the best thing to do is say nothing, and just begin” and I bring them into their opening pose. I find that this takes the pressure off the opening dharma talk and allows me to share when the time is right, as the class starts to flow and the energy starts to take shape.
So today, let’s begin with what it really means to teach a “slow flow”—a conversation that is inspired by the 60 minute Slow Flow Class Plan I’ve shared with you today.
Then, at the end of this letter, if you want a few random musings and tidbits from my travel, you can keep reading or just skip forward to the sequence.
I am going to tell you a pet peeve of mine, which is very un-yogic: It really bothers me when I attend a “slow flow” class and then I just end up holding standing poses for a long time. And this bothers me because holding poses is strenuous work!! It’s hard! And, to me, it’s not what’s meant by “slow flow.”
But I do understand why teachers default to this.
To them, “slow” means “hold.”
But when it’s slow + flow, I am also expecting the “flow” element in there, which denotes movement.
I also think the language generally implies a more “all levels” or “gentle” class, though arguably you could have a slow flow class where you were slowly moving through strength-building posture, and it would build a ton of heat. (All of this goes back to our conversation on class descriptions, and the importance of being clear with your students about what to expect upfront.)
So in my mind a “slow flow” is a class that keeps the body in dynamism while moving slowly and intentionally. It’s more somatic. More about finding a shape and then exploring it for a while.
When I hear slow flow, I hear juicy. I hear embodied. I see spirals and circles and waves. I think “slow flow” and I think about moving through honey, or the way water gently sways down a lazy river.
Take your timeeeeeeee in the shapes.
But just because you are taking time your students don’t need to be statically holding. How can they sway their hips, roll their heads, find their breath, explore their bodies?
The more you can remind them of this, the better it will likely feel.
So today’s sequence is my version of a “slow flow” — keep in mind that these videos are always sped up first, and then there is a slightly slower version with cues at the end. But they will always be faster than I usually teach.
I have sent you all the class opening and the warm up flow, which takes you through the first half of class.
Then, Paid Subscribers see how I treat a “main flow” in this class format and the class closing.
If you have the means to contribute to this project, it really makes a huge difference to my work and life.
Now, if you want to move onto the class plan, just scroll down!
If you would like to read my ramblings, inspirations, heart aches, and musings from my first week in Portugal, and how I’m feeling three days before the retreat begins, then read on….
I can remember the first time I saw a Substack post. It was years and years ago, and the post came from a yoga teacher who taught a portion of my YTT, Kelly Barrett. I thought she was so cool (she is so cool) and getting that Substack email from her all those years ago was likely the kernel of inspiration that stuck in my brain to start my own.
Kelly is still writing, and she’s also a reader of this publication now(!), and I still enjoy getting her emails to my inbox. I love the way Kelly writes and thinks. And her emails tend to follow a more fragmented structure—small tidbits of thought on big ideas. This writing style reminds me of the way our mind naturally bounces around—from thought to idea to worry to memory. I am dedicating these next musings to Kelly, and encouraging you all to go subscribe to her Substack and read some of her work.
I went to a yoga class of Erica Bracken’s when I was in Lisbon this week. Erica is a longtime content creator on Instagram, and if you’ve been following the world of yoga there, you’ve likely seen her pop up at some point.
I was kind of nervous to meet her, made worse by the fact that it was 90 degrees out and I was dripping with sweat when I arrived at the studio. But before class, looking at her online, I was worried that we wouldn’t get along. (Isn’t that always the worry with new people?) I could only see what I perceived to be our differences. But here’s the beautiful thing that happened: when we were finally together in person—all I could see were our similarities.
There is a light to someone’s eyes when you are speaking to them in-person, a certain sparkle, the sure sign of Purusa (the collective spirit) that you can see and feel, that you simply will never be able to feel across the internet. It reminded me of when I met Rachel Brathen and Ben Kalra in person, two other yoga teachers I’ve admired. In each case, right away, I felt as if this was a person I had known before, perhaps knew once upon a time, in a different life. Or, perhaps it’s simply because we humans, especially we yoga humans (see what I did there) share so very much in common.
I think it goes back to the idea fundamental idea in yoga—that everything that separates us is just an illusion—we are all one, after all.
Not only that, but Erica taught a class of so much depth. She kicked us off with a mantra meditation. She chanted in a gorgeous voice. I simply had no idea, and would never have known the true beauty of her teachings, had I never met her in-person.
Seeing each other’s light—that is a true gift.
If we ever get the chance to meet in person, my friends, I look forward to seeing the light in each of your eyes.
What a beautiful thing to appreciate about one another.
My mind has been so loud this week. Even my jaw is clenched as I write this and there’s no discernible reason why. I’m just all spun up. Perhaps it’s the travel—and my messed up circadian rhythm, which made the first few nights here sleepless and anxiety-ridden. Or, perhaps it’s the fact that 20 people are on their way to the retreat center in Portugal for our Intuitive Return yoga retreat which starts on Saturday!!
Either way, my monkey mind has been in full swing.
One of the things I’ve been fretting about funnily enough, is not the retreat, but who I am on the internet and what I am really here to “produce.”
When I started this newsletter I was focused, primarily, on creative yoga sequences and helping new yoga teachers understand their voice. Now, I find that I am seeking more simplicity in my teaching style, and I’m disillusioned by how many other “creative sequences” we can already find online.
When you can find it all, already, then what is left? Who needs one more post with a “funky transition”? Who cares about the type of music you’re playing when you are teaching, as long as what you’re teaching is imbued with the intention of making your students understand the power of yoga?
The space has gotten more crowded and it’s making me question my place in it. Isn’t that funny, how that happens?
But then I get on my mat to plan a class and I remember that I LOVE to flow. I love to sequence. I love to dance in the unique way yoga provides.
I just want to provide more than that, too…I don’t want to add to the noise of the world, I want to add to its healing.
Maybe the first step in doing that is remembering that it’s already enough…just to try.
Maybe you could help me by telling me: What does this newsletter really mean to you? Why are you here? Is it the sequences? If so, what do you want more of? If not, what is it?
I like to write about my challenges online because so often we see only the light stuff. The easy stuff.
But then something funny sometimes happens, which is I write about my anxieties, and then the people who know me in real life reach out because they are now worried about me.
Here’s the truth—I am generally an anxious person. And generally a happy person.
Sometimes I am more anxious than happy. Sometimes I am more happy than sad. Sometimes I am filled with the awe and beauty of life. Sometimes I’m like….wtf….
I love yoga because it has taught me to ride through the waves of my emotions. Life is hard and beautiful. I saw an old man holding a guide book yesterday on the streets of Porto and I wanted to cry. I can’t explain that, except by saying I feel life deeply.
I bet you do, too, if you’re here.
What I love about speaking toward my inner-darkness, my inner worries, my anxieties, is that by speaking them (or writing them) they tend to lose their power.
Darkness shrivels in the light.
How are you, dear humans? I’d love to hear what you think of today’s slow flow and anything else that these conversations brought up for you. Sometimes I forget to respond to the comments but please know that I read every single one of them.
I appreciate you, especially in my moments of doubt and darkness.
Without other humans—it’s not always easy to see the light.
Sending love,
♥
Izzy Martens
author, yoga teacher, sequence enthusiast
@yoga.humans | @martensizzy
Through spirals, side bends, twists, and flowing transitions, this slow and juicy class plan makes space in the hips, shoulders, and spine.
reclined butterfly
one hand to heart and one to belly
use props! blocks under knees or bolster under spine and head
knees to chest
dynamic bridge pose
arms overhead, arms sweep down as hips lift, then reverse
fetal position
“lounging mermaid” pose (right)
seated windshield wipers
“lounging mermaid” pose (left)
seated hug
come to easy seat
extend arms over head and “climb the ladder”
seated arm circles
seated elbow circles with hands on shoulders
seated arm sways side-to-sdie
seated cat-cow
seated mountain
hands to heart center
set an intention
tabletop pose
tabletop
cow pose
cat pose
kneeling backbend (cactus arms)
bowing child’s pose (arms sweep overhead)
kneeling backbend (cactus arms)
bowing child’s pose (arms sweep overhead)
kneeling open arm twist (right arm back, left arm forward)
tabletop with extended left arm
elbow-to-belly crunch
drop hips back
open-arm twist in tabletop
bring hips forward, then sweep arm back
repeat a few times
thread the needle
modified side plank
half cactus circles
open the heart, then sink the hips and pull elbow to belly
repeat a few times
gate pose
tabletop
repeat on the other side
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