The Lowdown: My Period

I came to Iyengar Yoga through a side door: dance. I started doing yoga, casually and randomly, in my late 20s and early 30s, as something to do when I couldn’t make it to a dance class. When I experienced Iyengar Yoga and its rigor and precision, I realized it was worthy of study on its own, not just to supplement my dance ambitions.

As I started going to weekly classes, my Iyengar Yoga teachers instructed us to let them know if we were menstruating. I had no idea why, and I never bothered to tell them. I was already habituated to tucking in that tampon and throwing my body around in dance classes for years. It never occurred to me to do anything less.

However, as I became more steeped in the yoga practice, I started to notice a few things:

• I always assumed that a menstrual period lasted 5, 6, or 7 days. It was just something you put up with. But when I learned Geeta Iyengar’s menstrual āsana sequence, my period shortened to 3 days.
• I would sometimes have cramps, headaches, and bloating. But doing certain āsanas alleviated or even eliminated these conditions.
• The menstrual sequence felt good on my body and mind. Was I just being lazy? What was happening, really?
  

Geeta Iyengar referred to menses as a mini-childbirth. At first, this struck me as odd. But as I pondered it, this comparison started to make sense. By this point in my life, I was already a mother of 3, as well as a natural childbirth instructor. So I knew about the reproductive cycle, childbirth, and postpartum. I just had not connected it all to the non-pregnant state of menstrual cycles until I started reading and learning from Geeta Iyengar.

Let’s say a doe is in the woods, about to give birth. If she is startled, she will get up, start moving, and her labor will stop. She will seek a safer location, then return to laboring. Not until she is safe and relaxed will she give birth. Humans are the same. What I realized is that the reason why my periods lasted nearly a week is because I was so active during it. The bleeding stopped and started according to my activity. When I started practicing the menstrual sequence, I supported my body’s natural rhythms and functions. I refrained from exertion and strenuous activity for a few days. For 2 days, I seemed to bleed profusely. Wearing pads instead of tampons helped me better discern the state of my flow. By the 3rd day, I was lightly spotting.

I noticed that the supine poses in the sequence helped me to relax and sometimes even doze off. If I had a headache, 10-15 minutes in Supta Baddha Koṇāsana, supine “butterfly” pose, with a bolster under my back, and blankets supporting my thighs, seemed to cure it. I learned that during menstruation, due to the exertive uterine contractions expelling the endometrial lining, our body temperature slightly elevates, and Supta Baddha Koṇāsana, with its aeration of the armpit and groin regions, cooled off the body.

Supta Vīrāsana helped to lift and tone the uterus: two effects I had never heard anyone mention. The uterus is comprised of layers of muscle as one of the strongest organs in the body.  I found this pose impossible and painful at first, after years of building up strong legs in Afro-Caribbean dance. But with the help of bolsters, blankets, and repetition, the easier it became.

Ardha Chandrāsana, half moon pose, with the support of a wall, a counter, or dresser, immediately alleviated the feeling of heaviness, bloating, and cramping. Utthita Hasta Pārśva Padanguṣthāsana, extended leg to the side, had a similar effect.

The forward bends, done with plenty of support, were mentally restful, and taught me how to hinge from the hips while keeping my abdomen soft. Janu Śirṣāsana, seated pose with one leg bent out to the side, seemed to encourage my flow. In fact, afterwards, my flow would become quite heavy, and then the next day, dry up.

My last period was February 2014, when I was 50 years old. So why am I writing this article now? We continue to live in a misogynist society. I continue to meet menstruators who neglect menses, who have never learned anything about their cycles except that we should engage in normal activity, and nothing should stop us from doing anything non-menstruators can do. At the same time, it seemed like, especially during the stress of the pandemic, almost everyone was having more than usual menstrual discomfort. Furthermore, even among yoga practitioners, there seems to be an enormous disparity in what folks believe and practice regarding menses. Some do no āsana at all on their moon. Some do everything except inversions. Some do everything with no exceptions.

The proof is in the pudding. I suggest you try Geeta Iyengar’s menstrual sequence for at least 2 days, when your flow is heaviest. There are many versions, ranging from the full 2-hour sequence, to shorter 60-90 minute versions, and special poses for specific issues. Here is a common 90-minute sequence. Meanwhile, refrain from strenuous activity, including heavy lifting, running, and swimming. Use your heavy days as rest days. Consult with a trusted certified Iyengar Yoga teacher to learn the set-ups and particulars of each pose. At Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective, we have a Tuesday evening Uterine Health Class offered online and in-person.

I taught in the Dance Department at Alverno, a women’s college in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, for many years. I always covered menses and taught the menstrual sequence. Every week, I’d reinforce it and give modifications and alternatives for menstruators. In the end of the semester assessments, many students reported that learning about menses and the menstrual sequence was their favorite part, and testified to the benefits they received.

Not only do Geeta’s recommendations make sense and feel good, practicing the sequence taught me how to slow down, and counteract the grind of capitalism and the incessant pressure of productivity. The tasks would just have to wait. I learned how to prioritize my health, and ask for what I needed. It gave me time for introspection to deal with emotional ups and downs. In white supremacist, patriarchal capitalism (thank you, bell hooks!) all these practices are deemed unimportant, so practicing the menstrual sequence becomes an act of political resistance.

At first, I forced myself to do the menstrual sequence. Later, I craved it. Now, post-menopausal, I miss it, and practice it once in a while anyway. I still have organs down there, and the physiological and mental effects still carry benefits. Many non-menstruators, including men, sing the praises of the effects they receive from the beautiful sequences designed for menstrual health.

I’ve not yet mentioned the post-menstrual sequence, a fantastic, inversion-centered sequence, which helps to dry out the uterus, restore energy levels, and balance shifting hormones. I love and value this sequence as much as the menstrual sequence, and continue to practice it. The depths of Geeta Iyengar’s revolutionary teachings continue to reap benefits. All I can say is try them out, preferably with the guidance of a CIYT. Consult Lois Steinberg’s comprehensive book on menstruation. Gather your basic props and improvise as needed.

Let me know what you notice. Be attentive to the more subtle effects. May the menstrual practice be a balm, refuge, and healing for us all.