Yellow, Hedge Walking and Practice

There’s so much yellow around at the moment, I can’t help but think of the British Artist Andy Goldsworthy and his hazel leaf wrapped stones. 

I recently watched Leaning Into The Wind (£3.49 on Amazon Prime) and was inspired by his process and the use of his body in his recent work.

In the film, he meticulously covers a large boulder in a gully with bright yellow hazel leaves. It’s like instant paper maché in situ. I have only seen these stunning works in photographs and they are mesmerising and utterly beautiful.

What hadn’t really occurred to me was what he goes through leading up to that photograph. Hours of trial and error, exposure to the elements, everything falling apart and piecing it back together when the conditions are right.

In the film we see him just about to finish the large boulder and then along comes a huge gust of wind that destroys the whole piece in a flash. 

His conviction, trust and commitment to the process are admirable.

Hedge Walking, my favourite piece in the film features him walking across a hedge - not through a gap but along the top of it. I will never look at a hedge in the same way again!

For me there is so much courage, conviction and curiosity here. To many, I’m sure it appears utterly bonkers.

It’s hard not to look at it and wonder why he does it. You could also respond with why not?

Leaning Into The Wind, Andy Goldsworthy

When climbing across the hedge he describes afterwards how physically demanding it was and how his ribs ached for 3 months afterwards. His body is entirely part of the work.

We often take the path of least resistance, the least obstacles, the clearest ones in the road, but what about the conscious decision to take the unfamiliar path? To be led by curiosity?

In the therapeutic environment, being curious can provide a sense of spaciousness when exploring difficult emotions and behaviours. In the body, this approach can help when dealing with recurring pain.

I would like to know what Andy says to himself in those moments where the wind determines the fate of his work. I like to think he takes time to breathe, senses disappointment, grief, sorrow, frustration, acceptance and comes back when the conditions are right, to try again.

I view all of this as The Practice. It takes the pressure off the desired end point and keeps the emphasis on the process of participating in the experience. 

When I injured myself, I realised how much of my practice prepared me for dealing with a traumatic experience and recovery. To be clear, I don’t think practice has to be in a softly lit room with gentle music playing and a dedicated time daily (although this does sound appealing!).

For me, it is broader. Whatever you practice should have the quality of restoring ease and spaciousness in your body. Enjoyment. A feeling of being grounded. Aliveness. How you get there might not always include a mat and some yoga blocks.

Here’s what my personal practice looks like at the moment:

I walk as much as I can when time allows.

I do a lot of hip opening on the floor in the evenings in front of TV.

In small 5, 10 or 20 minute pockets I go through specific movements that I feel I need at the time.

I have a standing desk so I can reduce hip flexion time when I’m at the computer.

I wear zero drop shoes and toe spacers to keep working on my feet plus I have a stone board in my kitchen and rock mat in my bathroom and various balls around the house for self massage and release when the mood requires.

I meditate as much as possible - mostly at night to help me get a better sleep.

I explore new practices before I teach them but also learn a lot through the process of teaching, so it’s all a work in progress for me. Nothing reaches a perfect end point. Life feels quite chaotic at times and I look for spaces to be quiet.

I try to look for things that I enjoy doing that give me a sense of spaciousness and ease in my body. These are not always pilates/yoga/movement-related!

I really enjoy cooking and particularly if I can listen to a podcast at the same time - the act of listening and cooking for me is the perfect combination.

Art particularly installation work is another love of mine. I am not intersted necessarily in reading about the work but I like to feel it and experience it. A good work is one that ‘speaks’ to you and stays with you and keeps you reflecting.

One crucial practice that I’m working on is to not give myself such a hard time - the art of self compassion.

Your body is always with you through all your experiences. Resistance to our own feelings can expend a huge amount of energy and comes at a cost physically. Learning to slow down and tune inwards to make space for the full spectrum of experience is a practice.

I think Andy Goldsworthy demonstrates a way of cultivating curiosity in the experience of living in this world and all that comes with it.

Tuning in to how we move, where we feel resistance and what sensations arise as we meet situations daily, is a skill worth cultivating for a more fulfilled and happy life.

Best wishes for your practice!

For short and long guided home practice sequences check out my online movement library.