Yogiverses

21/10/2024

📍Venerdí 15 novembre 2024 presso TESERO

Un appuntamento straordinario che si articola in due momenti (é possibile partecipare ad entrambi o sceglierne uno soltanto):
🌬️ ore 10:00-12:30 canto in gravidanza
🌬️ ore 16:00-18:00 canto per il travaglio

Conduce

Per info ed iscrizioni (𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝟏𝟎 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐞): Sara 351 5945910 e yogiverses@gmail.com

“La voce è particolarmente nutriente durante la gravidanza: meraviglioso strumento di consapevolezza e di armonia tra corpo e mente, favorisce la gestione dello stress, l’adeguamento ai cambiamenti, il contatto profondo con te stessa e con l’”ospite” che abiterà il tuo corpo, dentro e fuori, per diciotto mesi!
Durante la gravidanza le corde vocali mettono in vibrazione, a partire dallo scheletro, tutto l’organismo materno, stimolando in consonanza anche la piccola o il piccolo. Il liquido amniotico è un ottimo conduttore per le onde sonore: in pratica il feto vive in un mondo di vibrazioni. Alfred Tomatis parla di “nutrimento sonoro” che la madre offre, importante per la formazione di una piccola persona proprio come il latte.

Apparato fonatorio e genitale sono in stretta comunicazione: se la gola è distesa lo è anche la zona vaginale, se la gola è contratta (come accade se si è in preda alla paura) la stessa cosa si verifica a livello pelvico. In travaglio dunque il respiro e la voce possono essere risorse potenti, favorendo il processo ed esercitando un’efficace azione auto-analgesica.”

02/09/2024

| nuovi inizi |

A me settembre piace, sa di opportunità, speranze, rinnovata energia e creatività. E magari con questo calendario pieno di appuntamenti, piacerà di più anche a te.

Sì parte il 16 settembre presso lo studio Breathe di a Molina di Fiemme. Ce n’è per tutti i gusti 🍭

Le iscrizioni sono aperte. Tu a quale corso ti unisci?

01/08/2024

Ci siamo! Agosto Vibes in da air 😎. Leggi il carosello e dimmi a quali imperdibili eventi parteciperai.

📷 dello stratosferico

16/04/2024

08/04/2024

Vieni a respirare e fluire con noi! 🧘🏽‍♀️

14/02/2023

My forever Valentine

Eravamo numero pari e abbiamo fatto spazio, quello spazio che ora fatichiamo a trovare per noi due coppia e non mamma di e papà di.

Quello spazio che ora vorremmo colmare con un abbraccio, non fosse che s’inciampa tra giocattoli a terra e mille impegni scarabocchiati su fogli volanti.

Quello spazio che vorremmo riempire di “sono sempre qui”, non fosse che fra pianti e lallazioni si finisce spesso per non sentirsi. O fraintendersi.

E cosí, pure il “che ne dici se usciamo stasera?” si perde nel telefono senza fili del caos delle nostre giornate.

Forse meglio cosí, perché con te non voglio uscire. Con te voglio entrare.

Voglio entrare nella vita, nelle sue caverne. Nelle grotte e nelle sue profonditá. Voglio immergermi ancora di piú dentro di te, nei tuoi sogni, nei tuoi profumi. Inabissarmi dentro me, in quei vani del mio mondo che non avrei mai esplorato se non fossi arrivato tu a farmi innamorare del mio spazio piú intimo.
📸

19/09/2022

A fresh start || Sure, September has always felt like the start of a new year. I have never left school, after all - as a students back in the days and as a professor and researcher more recently.

This time round, it is different, though. Life cannot settle into a routine with my 5-month old, but I feel ready to re-engage in doing what I love most: yoga, Ta**ra and breathwork.

I had a blissful weekend teaching and practising yoga and I am getting ready to start my weekly postnatal yoga classes . I have also started teaching again. I feel so honoured to accompany many students in their journey towards becoming Ta**ra (and Breathwork) teachers.

Same same (as before), but (so) different! I have spent the last 20 years of my life meditating, practising yoga, doing a lot of breathwork, journaling about my spiritual “awakenings”. I read every book on Ta**ra and Buddhism I could get my hands on. I lived by their teachings the best I could.

And then I became a mother.

Everything I thought I knew about acceptance, presence, peace and “enlightenment” was blown sky-high. I had to face my shadow and darkness and wounds like never ever before. I realised that I have a long road ahead of me when it comes to ride the roller coaster of frustration and rage and grief and happiness and gratitude and overwhelm that every day motherhood serves me - most of the days, before the first coffee has even been served.

Yes, meditation and yoga and breathwork and journaling give us the tools
but it is
in the rawness
in the mess
in the madness and insanity and heart bursting miracle of life
as a mother
that I put those tools to use.

It is in the trenches and struggles of motherhood that I do the real work. It is motherhood, indeed, the steepest path to enlightenment.

If you want to learn and master the tools that can help you navigate the ebb and flow of life, use the link in bio to start your journey into breathwork and Ta**ra. You still have a chance to get the early bird offer if you act fast. I see you there!
📸

06/08/2022

The mystery of Life || Three hundred and sixty-five days. One year. Yes, a whole year has passed since the day I have experienced the mystery of Life in every cell of my body.

August, 4th. I returned to my parents’ home after a special holiday - not the honey moon I was dreaming of, but a very relaxing time in one of the Greek paradise. My dad hadn’t been well for a couple of weeks already.

In the depth of my being, I knew but I didn’t want to believe it could be true.

August, 4th. I felt bloated. Cramp-like discomfort. Bleeding was about to come. My period had been messy. I had the most joyful and intense weekend of my life, promising eternal love to my favorite person. I travelled.

In the depth of my being, I knew but I didn’t want to believe it could be true.

August, 4th. The diagnosis came as a thunderbolt. Terminal cancer. My dad was on borrowed time.
August, 4th. The test was positive. No, not a Covid test. A pregnancy test. A soul had started Her embodiment journey.

A sip of Eternity.

I was there, a little dot on the mysterious canvas of Life. My cells dancing in the liminal space between Death and Birth.

August, 4th - one year later. I am ecstatically in love with Life, lying in the bedroom that once was my father’s, breastfeeding my little 15-week old Rachele Zoe, the sweetest answer to my lifelong prayer to be a mother.
📸 by was taken the day before my dad passed beyond the purple veil.

17/07/2022

Saturday nights || Oh when Saturday nights in the summer were for tight sundresses and aperitivo on fancy patios and too many drinks and dancing wild with strangers and returning home sweaty with lipstick marks on the t-shirt while the sun was about to rise…

Now, here I am, still sweaty, but only from the squishy little one tucked in bed besides me, breast milk marks on the t-shirt, the sun rising through the window across my body, which is so much softer and not squeezing into any tight sundress any time soon.

I think about that young woman I once was, the wild nights I had and I feel a deep sigh of gratitude for all that was, everything that is and the woman I’m becoming.

Then I settle, breathing in the simple sweetness of the sheets, my sleeping baby and the gentle breeze.

15/06/2022

Becoming a new me || I caught myself looking for her a little bit lately. The old me. I have been missing her.

I have been missing my husband. Chats are usually about when it is best to have a shower. Kisses are rushed. The only plans we are able to make are about lunch when the clock is ticking towards 11 am. Our long and intense conversations about research are replaced with short messages that gravitate toward psychomotor development of the newborn. There are times when I crave the ease of pre-parent days - and I know this does not make me a bad mother. It makes me a real mother. A human.

Self-discovery through mamahood is extraordinary and very though at the same time. I am not sure where my individuality is slipping away. Finding my new form since I met my daughter. Feeling like I am drifting.

The only thing I came to understand is that it is not about going back to the “old me” - the old lifestyle, the old body, the old jeans…How could it be? Two cells multiplied into over 26,000,000,000 cells. I grew an entire new organ that fully formed in 20 weeks. My blood volume more than doubled. My hormones sky-rocketed (and then miserably plummeted). The size of my uterus drastically increased and its weight went from 60 gr to almost 1 kg. The brain matter changed and this ‘synaptic pruning’ will persist for at least 2 years postpartum. The breastmilk I am producing takes up 25% of my body’s energy; the brain only uses 20% by comparison. How can we make it look like nothing, like our babies are the only physical proof that it happened?

I stretch, grow, birth, bleed, nurse, lose sleep. It is not about going back. It is about becoming.

08/06/2022

The first forty days || It turns out that there is an institution of postpartum care that dates back centuries and that stretches across cultures. These customs have different flavours depending on the latitude, but at their core lies universal wisdom about spending dedicated time in the time between one way of being (the life before baby) and an entirely new existence (life with baby) - the Gateway.

I am slowly emerging from this revitalising in-between space.

Despite all the knowledge and preparation for this sacred window, it hasn’t been easy. I’ve either been out of my mind or inside it too much. I am confused how some days I can feel like I rule the world, and others I am pretty wiped out. I am confused why people keep telling to enjoy every moment. Certainly, I am growing more through the ones I am enjoying the least. This mamahood lined jacket some days doesn’t warm up, and others fits so right.

Mamahood is beautiful and it feels impossibly challenging. The highs are so high and the lows feel truly low. I have rough days (and nights) and I know that I am one kickass mama nonetheless.

As I am getting ready to go back into the world, I want to take easy on myself, to nourish my soul, to give myself permission to cry in the shower and lose my temper from time to time. And to reconnect to myself without the labels of who I am to someone else - daughter, sister, wife, mother…

If this resonate, you now know you are not alone. If you are interested in knowing more about the ancient roots of the postpartum sacred window or how I have spent the first forty days, let me know below.

Ph 📸: