Yoga with Essie

I recently spent 10 days on a Vipassana meditation retreat; 10 hours a day of meditation, complete silence, no phone, no distractions.

I’ve found myself trying to make sense of it, but more honestly, I think I’m just noticing myself a little more clearly.

I noticed how critical my inner voice can be. A constant commentary of judgement, comparison, and self-criticism that I don’t always realise I’m carrying until everything else goes quiet.

I also noticed how uncomfortable I can be when I feel I might be disturbing or affecting other people. Even in silence, I was aware of my presence in the room, and how easily I slip into trying to take up less space. That felt quite confronting.

There were moments of real difficulty; restlessness, emotion, frustration, resistance, pain, the urge to escape! In those moments I saw how quickly I turn on myself for not coping “better”, which only seemed to add another layer on top.

Alongside that, there were also moments of softness; of sitting with discomfort without immediately reacting, of watching thoughts come and go without needing to fix them, of beginning to understand that how I meet myself internally shapes everything else.

One thing that has stayed with me since coming home is the practice of compassion. I’ve continued to practice Vipassana and Metta Bhavana (loving-kindness) meditation daily, and it’s been a quiet but powerful shift. There’s something in it that feels like it softens the edges of everything else.

Compassion isn’t just something we extend outward, but begins within ourselves first, and in my experience, the more gently I meet myself, the more naturally that softness seems to move outward, towards others and back again.

What’s stayed with me most since coming home is not a sense of having changed, but a deeper awareness of the tension between how I am, and how I think I should be.

Then underneath all of it, a quieter question that keeps surfacing…

What would it feel like to meet myself with the same compassion I so easily offer to others?

I don’t have the full answer yet, but I can feel that something in me is beginning to soften towards the question itself 💚

📺 This week on Yoga with Essie...

There will be wobbles, there may be laughter, but nobody falls over (probably).

Join Essie for a gentle practice exploring balance, patience and giving yourself permission to try again.

On air Tuesday at 6.30pm and Thursday at 6pm - Kildwick & Farnhill Institute 💚

One thing I’ve become more aware of since returning from Vipassana is just how hard I can be on myself.

I like things to be done properly. I like to do a good job. I can be quite critical when things don’t go to plan, especially when it comes to myself.

But I recently found myself thinking about my Grandma (who is such a blooming gem) ❤️

Years and years ago, she made custard to go with pudding and accidentally left the hob on. The custard burnt at the bottom, and the whole batch ended up tasting really smoky.

The funny thing is, nobody got upset. We all ate it anyway (it was actually quite nice), laughed about it, and to this day it’s one of those family memories that still makes me giggle.

The interesting thing is, I never remember the times everything was perfect.

I never remember every meal that turned out exactly as planned.

But I remember the burnt custard 😂

It’s made me realise that perhaps life isn’t about getting everything right all the time.

Plans change. Mistakes happen. Things don’t always work out the way we’d hoped, and that’s OK.

I’m trying to be a little softer with myself these days. To let go of some of the pressure and perfectionism, and remember that being human is enough.

After all, nobody remembers the perfect custard 🍮

It’s been a gentle and slightly turbulent first week back after Vipassana, with lots still to reflect on and process.

Thank you for your patience while I find my rhythm again 🙏

I’m looking forward to getting back into a routine, with yoga classes and massage appointments available this week 💚

One of the things I find most fascinating about Ayurvedic Yoga Massage is that people don’t just bring their bodies into the room.

They bring their whole lives with them.

Often someone will arrive and before we’ve even started I can feel that they’ve got a lot on their mind. They’ll chat all the way through the treatment, jumping from one thing to another, almost as if they’re trying to empty their head whilst their body slows down.

Other people barely speak at all, but their body tells a story. Their shoulders are up around their ears, their jaw is clenched, their hands don’t quite relax. Even when I’m supporting the weight of a leg or an arm, they keep holding it themselves.

I’ve always found that really interesting because sometimes it feels like the body is saying, “I’ve got this. Don’t worry. I’ll hold it.”

Even when it doesn’t need to.

I’ll be the first to hold my hands up and say I can be like that in life too, and a lot of us are.

We’re used to being the one who copes. The one who sorts things out. The one who keeps going.

So being asked to lie down for an hour and a half and let somebody else support you can feel intensely vulnerable.

I’ve had people cry on the mattress.

I’ve had people laugh.

I’ve had people suddenly start talking about something that happened ten years ago that they haven’t thought about in ages.

I’ve had people get up afterwards and say they can’t explain it, they just feel different somehow.

Lighter, softer, more themselves.

I’ve not magically fixed anything, but for ninety minutes they stopped gripping so tightly.

Their body got a chance to breathe, their mind got a bit quieter and whatever they’d been carrying around for weeks, months or years became just a little bit lighter.

I don’t think Ayurvedic Yoga Massage is just a physical treatment.

I think it’s a chance to stop holding all the s**t together for a while. How amazing to BE held 💚