Years ago, I tried a yoga class with my husband Phil. He was suspicious, but I pooh-poohed his fears. Then he was partnered with a bearded bald man who, Phil claimed, kept “humping my back”. I think it was just a stretch, and anyway, I was nursing my own disappointment, having been told in hushed, marvelling tones by the instructor, “You’re so inflexible.”
Fifteen years on, wounds have healed and couples’ yoga is becoming increasingly popular. Briohny and Dice Iida-Klein are one toned, tanned couple based in LA who post pictures of their joint poses on Instagram and have 125,000 followers, and there are a growing number of retreats and workshops available in the UK. We decide it’s time to give it another go. Instructor Gina Hardy is based in Surrey, but offers to teach at our London home. One of her specialities is couples’ yoga — and she’s a relationship coach. When I contact her, she writes, “Couples’ yoga is such a wonderful way to explore the non-verbal aspects of a relationship.” According to her website, other benefits include deeper trust, bonding, greater intimacy, connection, fun, as well as balance: figuratively and literally.
The morning Gina arrives, I’m irritated with Phil, partly because I suspect he doesn’t want to do this. We are not a beauteous Instagram yoga couple, lithe, bendy, and serene. I feel silly (I realise I’m wearing my yoga top back to front) and stressed. But Gina is calm and cheerful — she arranges the yoga mats, admires our cat, and asks us each to lie down on adjacent mats, head to toe.
“Find a space where you can actually connect hands,” she says.
“Ah,” I say, because who has time to hold hands in the course of a day?
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Our palms connected, we lie flat in “corpse pose” — though, says Gina, the term shavasana is much more romantic. Lengthen your spine as much as you can, close your eyes, and really, just arrive, because it’s been a little bit hectic. See if you can tune into your breath. Lying in shavasana is about pressing stop. She tells us to relax our faces, including jaw, tongue, between the eyebrows, be aware of the rise and fall of our chest. I sigh and soften, despite myself.
To my surprise, Phil has found some piano music — beautiful and soulful. I feel the warmth of his hand in mine. So far today, we’ve only rushed past each other. “The body is like a storehouse of all the emotions,” says Gina. “See if you can tune into where you might be feeling a little tense. Tune in to your relationship. Just notice the energy between you, just allow yourself to connect through the physical touch. Say hello to this person you’ve been married to for twenty years and who you’ve had three children with. Not with words; with energy, with love from your heart.”
“Transmitting . . . love . . . no words needed . . . connected . . . space,” murmurs Gina. I feel soppy and sheepish, squeezing Phil’s hand, with Gina beaming over us. “Energy . . . peace . . . and love.” I want to be English and scoffing about it. But, this is a rare opportunity. I sink into the moment.
Then we part, stretch and lengthen. Phil sighs deeply. We hug our knees, and sit back to back. We embark on a three-part yogic breath. Gina asks us to “tune in to your own in-breath but also the rhythm of your partner’s in-breath. See if you can find a space where you can start to breathe in together and out together.” It’s hard not to smile while practising this exercise. Phil breathes out loudly and fully.
Still back to back, we link arms, then let our heads fall forward. “Am I really leaning on my partner,” says Gina, “or can I be in a co-operative space? Or am I expecting my partner to do it for me?” I think about how I’m really quite lazy about leaning on Phil. I let him drive, a lot. However, he treats me as his seeing-eye dog (“Anna, where are my keys/socks/wallet? etc”).
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In the same position, I lean forwards, legs stretched, with Phil resting on my back, “but”, says Gina, “only as much as you can without . . . snapping her hamstrings.” I laugh weakly. “I want you to co-operate with each other,” she adds, “is this too much, is it enough?” Phil leans back, until I squeak, “Argh!”
“Continue to breathe!” says Gina, “it’s almost like bellows breathing — you’re breathing out one way, then you’re breathing.”
Even though we’re being stage-directed, this forces physical intimacy and emotional fusion. It effectively irons out my low-level grumpiness and makes me feel warmly towards Phil. I can definitely imagine a Mills & Boon, Yoga with the Sheikh. But if we had more serious resentments, it would be awful.
We sit facing each other, cross-legged — physically a struggle for Phil, but he valiantly attempts it. “You’ll suffer”, I say, adding, “reflective of the relationship.”
Gina says, “I want you to eye-gaze.”
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“Eye gaze?” says Phil.
“I’m not going to be watching”, says Gina sweetly, “because it’s private space.”
“Stop grinning!” says Phil to me.
“See if you can hold the gaze,” orders Gina.
We gaze, for a minute, until Phil starts huffing and shifting position.
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“How was that?” says Gina.
“Good,” says Phil, briskly. I feel a twinge of dismay; for me, it was powerful, looking into his green-flecked eyes. But later, he tells me he was moved by it. The gazing, and the breathing, he allows, was very effective.
Then Gina gives me a yoga strap to pull Phil into a sitting twist, but he says, “it isn’t great. I’m way not flexible enough.” We have a short argument about who’s less flexible. Gina urges Phil to continue; he must “relax into it”. I try to be gentle, and Phil snaps, “You’ve got to pull, Anna — you’re not pulling at all! Pull!”
“It is”, Gina says afterwards, “very interesting what showed up: ‘OK, you need to do this, honey, and no, no, no, you’re not doing that enough!’ ” Indeed. She adds, “As a relationship coach, I work with couples who are heading for divorce, and I never ever introduce yoga with them, because you’ve got to get the words sorted out before you can be relaxed enough — a relationship plays out when people are doing yoga.”
“Once,” says Gina, “I did a Valentine’s Day couples’ yoga, and one couple couldn’t even get their back-to-back right — there was all this, ‘huh, you’re leaning on me’ — there isn’t always a willingness to trust your partner, the co-operation, and when they go to lean on you, are you going to let them?”
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Moving on, we sit opposite each other, legs straight, touching feet (my worst thing), both gripping the yoga strap, and I help Phil into a forward bend. I lean back. Gina wants me to “communicate by looking at him — see when it’s enough, when there’s a grimace, or a smile.”
“Bit more,” growls Phil, who clearly doesn’t trust me to read his body language.
Then it’s my turn. “Let him take you to a place of challenge,” says Gina. It’s okay — I’m already there.
Our grand finale is a “brute-strength” posture, where I lean back in a bridge, and Phil lifts me in the air with his arms and legs. Gina is impressed that I trust him, that we “went into co-operation mode”, though it’s mainly that I’m glad he’s doing the work. “Do you feel supported, Anna?”
We end by sitting knee to knee, “tuning in to the heart space”. Gina orders Phil, “Enjoy looking at your wife.”
Much as we’ve snickered and grumbled (“it’s more painful for me than I thought,” says Phil, referring, I think, to the yoga), we agree, afterwards, that it’s a revelation — the pair of us, with our hunched, gnarly bodies — we need these stretchy postures in our lives. As for the non-verbal emotional connection opportunities offered; I hate to say it, but those smug Instagram yogi couples are on to something.
ginahardy.co.uk
For men
Downward-facing dog
A good pose for toning the whole body and giving you energy. It stretches the spine, hamstrings, gluteal muscles and calves, and strengthens and tones shoulders and arms. Stretch arms forward, place your hands on the ground and press into them, spreading the fingers wide. Sit back on your heels, then raise your bottom to the sky. Ensure half of your weight is drawn backwards towards the feet and half towards the hands. If you have tight hamstrings, keep the knees a little bent and don’t force your heels towards the mat. Hold for ten breaths.
Triangle pose
The triangle is a great pose for flexibility. Stand with your feet wide apart and turn your right foot towards the top of the mat. Position your left foot parallel to the opposite end of the mat. Relax arms and shoulders, and on the in-breath raise arms to shoulder height, then lower your right arm to the side of the right shin. Reach your left arm up to the ceiling and imagine a straight line from the tips of your left fingers to the tips of your right. Stretch your shoulders wide. Draw in stomach and pelvic muscles to protect your lower back. Hold for ten breaths and repeat on the other side.
For women
Warrior II pose
This is a great strengthening pose for the whole body. Stand with your legs wide apart. If your right foot is leading, bend your right knee so it’s directly over the ankle. Stretch out your arms so they are parallel with your legs. Keep your body tall and upright, twist your head to face the leading arm and leg. Soften your shoulders, keep the back of the neck relaxed, bring your tummy muscles in and keep your hip open. Tuck the coccyx under. Lift through the top of your head. Anchor yourself through the feet. Hold for ten breaths and repeat on the other side.
Forearm plank
The upper body is often a weak point for women. This is great for strengthening and toning shoulders, arms and biceps. Come into the pose via downward-facing dog pose. Lower your hips towards the floor until your body is in a straight line and lay your forearms flat on the floor. Tuck your hip bones towards your lower ribs and contract your belly and pelvic floor muscles. This will protect your lower back. If you have a very curved lower spine, keep the pose brief. Extend the top of your head forwards and your heels backwards slowly to lengthen your spine gently. Hold for ten breaths.