A Healing Field Trip: Yoga Therapy in Nature

Last week, I took one of my therapeutic yoga clients on a field trip. Elaine has been recovering from a broken shoulder—an unfortunate injury sustained during one of her many inspiring international birding adventures, this time in Singapore. The injury occurred at the end of her trip, and she faced the daunting task of navigating flights home with a painful and immobilized arm. Thankfully, she made it back to the States and received the medical care she needed to begin her healing journey.

That’s where I came in.

As Elaine followed her doctor’s instructions and diligently practiced the physical therapy exercises prescribed to her, we began to explore what else might support her full recovery. With another international trip on the horizon, it was clear that healing her shoulder was only part of the picture. It was time to address the whole body—and the mind and spirit too.

Since Elaine isn’t driving yet, our sessions began as home visits. Drawing on our 17-year history of practicing yoga together, I adapted a therapeutic approach that focused on chair and standing postures. Getting up and down from the floor was not an option, so our goal was to build strength in her legs and core, maintain flexibility and balance, and offer some much-needed movement to the rest of the body.

After a fall, it’s common for people to develop a lingering fear—not just of specific movements, but of moving through the world in general. Everyday activities that were once second nature, like walking to the mailbox, crossing the street, or being in a crowd, can suddenly feel uncertain or even risky. That loss of confidence can deeply affect a person’s sense of independence. So in our work together, we focused on rebuilding that confidence—through both mindset and movement. While the physical therapist concentrated on her shoulder, I turned my attention to the foundation: her feet and ankles. Improving strength and mobility there helps support balance, stability, and ultimately, a renewed sense of trust in the body.

We also addressed the discomforts that arose from compensating with only one arm and from the lack of her usual movement routine. While seated, we gently explored spinal movements, palm tree (leaving out the right arm), and gentle rotation. Elaine was eager to stretch the backs of her legs, so we brought in a second chair: one to sit on, the other to elevate her leg for a posterior thigh stretch. We found creative ways to stretch the quads and hips too—simple movements that brought real relief. Throughout our sessions, we wove in mindful breath guidance, specific pranayama practices, and eventually standing and balancing postures.

Each week, we add something new—and each week, I see Elaine grow a little brighter with renewed confidence and encouragement.

One of the highlights of our work together came last week. Elaine had been longing to visit the ocean—one of her favorite places—but hadn’t been able to go due to her injury and lack of transportation. That day, I had a cancellation and a little extra time. I asked if she’d like to take her practice to the beach. Her face lit up. “Yes!” she said, without hesitation.

We drove to Doran Beach and found the perfect spot: a bench, a railing, a gentle breeze, and an unobstructed view of the water. Elaine practiced seated movements, standing postures, and breath work as the waves rolled in and seabirds soared overhead. As a master birder, she shared her knowledge with me, identifying the calls we were hearing—each one distinct, including the unmistakable cry of the Black Oystercatcher. I loved getting to learn from her in this way. It was the perfect setting—simple, nourishing, and alive.

Yoga therapy, like yoga itself, is about so much more than postures. It’s breath, awareness, connection, and healing. It’s the ability to adapt, to listen deeply, and to honor the full person—body, mind, and soul. It’s community, nature, and moments that restore joy.

I’m so grateful Elaine was up for the outing. I could feel how it lifted her spirits—and mine too. That, in itself, is medicine.