Movember, Men’s Health, and What Yoga Has Been Teaching Me

I asked my wife to take an updated photo of me this week with my gray mustache. Twenty-five years ago my mustache looked darker. I feel older. I also feel more honest. Movember stirred up a lot for me this year, which I’ve tried to capture here.

I teach yoga and meditation for people who come for countless reasons. Some feel tight or stressed. Some feel unsure on the inside even though they look steady on the outside. Some feel pressure to hold everything together. Some long for connection or meaning. And many never learned how to name what they want. Movember nudged me to look at my own history with all of that.

What I Have Been Carrying: A Personal Look at Men’s Health and Emotional Patterns

Somewhere early on in my life, I learned to push through pain. To keep working. To hold stress for the people I love. I sometimes showed up to work sick because I thought it meant I cared. I still feel that pressure at times.

At the same time, I grew up around men who showed real emotion. They cried. They shared their feelings. They cared. That shaped me too. It gave me a picture of strength that held tenderness. I feel grateful for that.

This month brought some blind spots into the light. For example, through most of my life, my friends and I don’t often talk about checking testicles on a regular basis. We avoid talking about the awkward moments that showed up in high school, like uncontrollable erections. We don’t talk much about body worries. Yet, these worries affect confidence, stress, and connection. When they stay hidden, they build shame. Movember reminded me how much of these worries remain unstated.

Movember also notes that many men don’t seek help until problems reach a breaking point. Not because they don’t care, but because they’ve been taught to push through silently. That pattern shows up in doctor visits, stress, emotional health, and even basic conversations about how we’re really doing.

The Movember report highlights some hard numbers. Fifteen percent of men say they have no close friends. None. Loneliness carries a health risk close to smoking fifteen cigarettes a day! The Movember report says one in four young men report mental ill health. The top causes of death before age seventy-five include heart disease, cancer, accidents, and suicide. Public health researchers use the term “premature death” for deaths before seventy-five. Right now more than half of all male deaths in the United States fall into that category.

Yoga does not fix all of that. It does offer tools that help people pause and breathe. It helps us listen to our bodies instead of ignoring signals. It helps us feel safe enough to name what sits below the surface. That alone can change lives.

A Subtle Shift in My Approach to Teaching Yoga and Mindfulness

Before this month, I focused on making my classes welcoming for people who often feel excluded: trans people, people who are pregnant, and people carrying trauma. I pay close attention to pacing and language. I try to teach in a slow, steady way that helps people settle into presence.

Movember shifted something for me. It pushed me to consider another group that often feels unwelcome in contemporary yoga spaces: men. I started thinking about all the times I’ve shown up to a class as the only man in the room, feeling out of place even though I loved the practice.

This month, I began making more changes to my teaching grounded in my own lived experience. Movember’s research helped me see how often men carry pressure without having language for it. So I’ve started bringing more of my own experience into class as a way to make more room for honest reflection. When I talk about stress, I speak from my own stress; when I talk about rest, I share the guilt I’ve carried around rest; when I talk about emotional steadiness, I speak about my own search for it.

My hope is that this honesty helps people feel less alone—that it reminds them that every student, including the person at the front of the room, carries tight shoulders, old beliefs, and quiet fears about aging, purpose, and connection.

Understanding Men’s Inner Lives: What Helps and How to Support Them

Movember points out that this silence isn’t personal failure. It’s patterned. Many men were never taught emotional language, never shown how to ask for help, and never encouraged to speak their inner life aloud.

Some of you support people who carry pressure they rarely name. You show up with patience and compassion. You care about sons, partners, friends, coworkers, and neighbors who try to look steady even when they feel worn down inside. Many of you brought men to my classes this month, and I feel so grateful for that! I hope I can continue to offer something useful for everyone who walks through the door.

People want strength, mobility, and steadiness. They also want softness and rest. They want presence. They want a clear way to hold both without losing themselves. Yoga gives space to practice that balance in a safe and simple way.

You can support people you care about by giving space for simple questions. How does your body feel today? What kind of rest would help? What wants to soften? Most people need a steady place to name what sits inside them. That small act builds connection and trust.

A Simple Seasonal Practice for Stress, Awareness, and Emotional Health

Movember arrived right before winter sets in here in Minnesota. Days get shorter. The cold begins to slow us down.

Here is a simple practice you can try right now. No equipment needed.

1. Sit in a quiet room and settle into a chair with your feet on the floor.
2. Rest your hands on your legs.
3. Breathe in through your nose until your ribs widen.
4. Breathe out through your nose until your shoulders soften.
5. Slow the breath until it feels smooth.
6. Ask yourself what part of your life wants less pressure.

This gentle check-in builds awareness. It helps the body settle. It gives clarity around stress and connection. It might even change a life.

Closing Out Movember: A More Honest, Grounded Way Forward

This month gave me a fresh look at my own patterns. It nudged me to grow. It helped me name things I once kept quiet. It opened a path to teach from a more honest and grounded place. It has felt like a deep look into my truths (satya). In that sense it feels like a new beginning.

Maybe these words help you understand the quiet pressures that shape the people you care about. I hope they offer a path toward steady strength, honest connection, and a little more ease.

Thank you for reading and for walking this path with me through this Movember.

If you want to explore these practices further, you can join me for classes, workshops, or my guided meditations at Pretty Good Meditation.