Lisa Carson: My Story

I have always enjoyed movement. My mum told me that from the day I was born I was kicking my legs in the cot, always wanting to move.

Growing up, I was very sporty and I remember, even then, feeling a bit lighter when I had done some physical activity. I didn’t know the word ‘Yoga’ at the time. Then I went to Laban when I was 18 and studied dance for 3 years. I felt incredibly drawn to the combined use of breath and movement, and a sense of physical and mental connection. Yet I still didn’t know this was an experience or a state of being that could be described by any one word – ‘spirituality’ certainly hadn’t entered my vocabulary by then.

‘Where’s the sweat, Lisa?’

Packing my bags and getting on a plane at 21 to go live in New York, I followed my dream of living the kind of life depicted in the film Fame! All on my own, I just arrived – but with no idea of what I was going to do next! So, in keeping with my initial inspiration, I started doing dance classes in the day and waitressing at night. I even danced in the streets, trying to be a Gene Kelly!

After my 2 years in New York I moved to Montreal for a year and then went to York University in Toronto, where I completed my BA Hons in Movement Therapy. This set me up well for the next two years, which were spent working at the Muki Baum treatment centre for severely emotionally disturbed children. After that, I knew it was time to return to England.

Doing it for the kids

Back in London, I quickly went about setting up my business, Crazee Kids, and started teaching creative dance and drama for children. What a joy! Children are the best teachers – small ‘golden mirrors’ whose intuitive sense of their bodies manifests in free and fluid movement. When they laugh and move, there is a very clear and natural integration of presence, breath and joy. They are, by their nature, alive in the moment and free from ego. I was inspired by them, to teach others how to tap into their own vibrant selves.

When I did my Yoga teacher training with the British Wheel of Yoga, it was like all the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together. Suddenly, I had a language and tools for passing on the sense of “aliveness” I’d seen in the children, and which I felt too when breathing and moving with awareness. Inspired, I went on to complete a Diploma entitled “Teaching yoga to people living with cancer” and, as if to test my yogic resolve and the new skills I’d learnt, my mother was diagnosed with cancer as I approached the end of the course. I remember looking up and saying, “Hello Universe, is there anything else you want to throw at me?”.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

It wasn’t an easy time, by any means. But my yoga practice served me well through this period. On the days when the movement didn’t ‘work’ – when it didn’t place me right there, in the flow of life at that present moment, free of regret and worry – I still had the breath to fall back on, and vice versa. That’s the beauty of having a yoga and breath practice; there’s always some element of it – be it postures, the breathing techniques or meditation – that works in any given moment. The hardest part is saying to yourself, “I will now step onto my mat”. And even when that doesn’t happen, simply visualising yourself breathing and moving works like magic.

Of course, there were and there still are times when I struggle to get into the groove, so to speak, and I have internal conversations with myself, saying things like, “What am I doing on my mat? I would much rather be somewhere else or doing something else.” But these moments teach us how to ‘sit with ourselves’ – to acknowledge how we feel, mentally, physically, emotionally and, sometimes, spiritually, without judgement. We learn to ‘be’ with the good, the bad and the ugly. It’s one of the hardest things to do, but when it happens, it’s very liberating.