Choose a day to practice nonjudgmental mind. The challenge is to not judge anyone, including yourself, all day—at home, at work, or on the street. After a period of successful non-judging, write down your new observations about people.

‘Observe yourself. Keep a notebook handy and throughout the day mark down your various reactions. Get to know your own emotional flow.

Make a mental note to allow yourself audible exhale during these tasks.

When practicing a monologue, make a point of exhaling audibly after every sentence, or even in the middle of the sentence. Hopefully you will feel more visceral connection to the word.

Find your shadow. Start by making a list of three types of people you criticize. Choose one that seems the scariest for you and associate it with a primary chakra. Examples might be disorganized, frazzled types (imploded first chakra), or arrogant types (exploded third chakra).

Choose your anima or animus from the archetype list.

Put them together and create a character you can play. For example, I could choose imploded third chakra as primary, and the animus as a Rebel (exploded first). One of my shadows would then be a male troublemaker with low self-esteem.

Finally, write down your dreams and identify your shadow(s) within them. We have many, so do not limit yourself. Your shadow could be the molester in the dream and the victim.

Put your hand on top of your head and find the hot spot. Then lift your hand a fraction of an inch, while still feeling the heat. Continue lifting until you can actually feel the heat a foot over your head. Put your hand down, close your eyes, and visualize that column of heat rising to the ceiling. Keep that focus for five or ten minutes, aware of the images and thoughts that brush past your mind. Note down your thoughts in your journal.

Put your hand back on top of your head, but this time sense the heat’s journey downward. Put a cap on, or keep your hand there, whatever gives the sense of sealing the energy from releasing upward. Now spend five to ten minutes breathing with this physical focus, and see what thoughts and images emerge. Write them down, comparing them with the open-chakra images.

Try to find and observe both exploded and imploded crown chakra people in your life and on the street.

Spend a day imagining the release valve at full force. Picture a full stream of water cascading out the top of your head, which should be buzzing with the activity of your focus. Try to keep that “buzz” all day. Write down your findings.

Lie on a bed or in meditation pose with a pillow under your seat, a straight spine, and your knees touching the floor. Picture yourself going back home to where you were raised with your survival body intact. Imagine how you interact with those of your clan. Notice the similarities in behavior, both physically and socially, with them. Notice what you don’t say and do. Notice the sense of habitual responding without thinking.

In your mind, take off your suit of armor, the outer layer of mannerisms and social etiquette. Feel yourself standing among the clan without the usual protection, in your soft body. It will feel like you are naked. Picture how you would respond now, without your usual bag of tricks. Write down a dialogue with your mother or sister from this soft body, unprotected and truthful. It may take a few tries to actually express your truth without protection.

Read a monologue from a character on which you are working. Then make a point of taking off your actor’s suit, and reading it from the soft body, just you, exposed and responding. Feel the characters’ words connecting to your core.

Focus on the heart chakra, imagining the vortex is exploding out of the chest like the rays of the sun. Open the window of the heart and walk in. Picture a secret garden lying way in the back of the heart, lush and sacred.

Picture yourself as a child younger than the age of seven, sitting in that secret garden. What are you doing? What are you feeling? What does the child need most? A hug, some food, safety, privacy, a smile? Try not to edit, but let the image emerge from your compassion.

Get on your feet and find the gesture that best expresses the need of this child. Repeat it, faster, slower, slower, until the gesture is no more, but the need is still felt. Now hide it. See how you behave. It will feel like you are “acting” the character of yourself.

Now choose a character. Knowing the given circumstances of that character, choose a child-need, and repeat the above exercises, hiding the child gesture with the persona of that character. You may have to try several different ones before you land on the need that seems to suit the character. Trust your instincts when it comes to hiding. Your body knows how to hide feelings. You don’t have to think about it. We are all master hiders.

Notice your anger throughout the day. Do you hide it, let it out verbally or physically, or avoid it all together? Discover whether you have an exploded, imploded, or balanced first chakra.

When riding in a moving vehicle, a train, subway, boat, or airplane, try to stand still without holding on. Your first chakra will have to ground you. In New York, we call this subway surfing.

Pick up a chair and hold it over your head while you rehearse some lines. You will feel grounded, the weight of the chair and your effort forcing a physical exertion similar to “standing your ground.” Now try it without the chair and see whether you can hold on to that inner strength without it.

Write down ALL your memories of being lost or scared to death. Try to recreate that feeling physically by moving about your room without direction. Notice the position of the pelvis as you re-experience being lost. Is your pelvis pushed back? Your breath short and choppy? What about your eyesight? Are you seeing with clarity and more detail?

Rotate your hips around and around, loosening your lower back and hip sockets. Keeping a loose walk, move around as if thinking from your pelvis. Picture your pelvis open and moving like an ocean. Listen to music or perhaps belt out a song while experiencing pleasure and sensuality of your body movements. If you feel self-conscious, don’t judge yourself. Just try again tomorrow, until you experience yourself as a sensual wild being, whose desire is as natural as the tides moving in and out with the moon.

Write a monologue in an unadulterated and lusty voice to someone you dream about—maybe a movie star, a character in a book, or a long-lost love. It should be someone not in your life, so you are free to make it lusciously sexy. Speak it out loud, whisper it into your pillow, enjoy the words in your mouth. Tear it up after, so your sensuality can be freely expressed privately and without fear of someone else reading it. If it starts unlocking the second chakra, write another one the next day, and the next, and the next. Repeat as often as needed.

Start to notice when you feel jealous of someone’s accomplishments. Instead of feeling bad about yourself because they are somehow “better,” recognize the feeling as a message from your wise body showing you what you want, how you want to change, or what direction to take your work. Jealousy, if you notice it, can then become a positive messenger.

Lie down on your back with your knees bent and put your hands over your belly, below the belly button. Imagine the weight of the hands dropping down to the back of the pelvis and picture an arid landscape. The water has dried up, and there you lie, parched in a place of shame. Allow images or memories to rise and be experienced. When you finish, stand up and put your hands on the wall to re-ground. Once you have recovered, write down the memories and images. Exploring this area can be very painful, so take your time. Take your time. You are the one in control of your own exploration.

Think of something at which you are great (could be flipping pancakes) but you know you do it well and hope that everyone is watching. Imagine doing this activity, even move through the gestures of the activity itself. Become aware of your breathing, as it settles, and the gracefulness of your body as it moves with confidence. Notice how relaxed your brain becomes. Now push the rib cage forward and walk around, feeling your confidence turning into a nasty judgmental arrogance. Read a monologue out loud in the voice and presence of this bloated self. Watch that your switch from confidence to arrogance doesn’t lose you to a caricature indicating arrogance. Stay connected.

Think of something at which you are lousy. You stink at it and you hope that no one ever sees you doing it. (In my case, it would be trying to work the remote control on the TV.) Go through the motions of this activity. Let the rib cage sink back, and try to walk around feeling a sense of worthlessness. Read a monologue out loud in the voice and presence of the humiliated self. Again, do not lose the true feeling of shame when you start to work with words. This is the pitfall of body to words. I feel it, I start talking, but then I stop feeling it. If the feeling stops, start again.

Write a monologue in your journal in the voice of your exploded third chakra. On a different day, write a monologue from your imploded third. Don’t try to be an artful writer. Just give an unadulterated voice to those parts of yourself, as if they were characters within you. Read them the next day and see whether you can be fully embodied.

Lie on the floor on your back and put a pillow or yoga block under your rib cage. Keep the top of your head and pelvis on the ground (fish pose in yoga). Now picture your heart area as a sun exploding out of an open window and let the sun radiate outward all the way to the ceiling. Massage under your collarbones. Breathe deeply. Feel the warmth, and allow the laughter and love to be ignited. If nothing happens, try again tomorrow after you finish the other exercises below. You may need to empty the heart of tears first, so there is space for the sun.

Now take the pillow and put it over your heart, like a shield, and cover your eyes with a soft cloth. For the weight on your heart, you may even want to use something more substantial like a nice heavy stone so you feel the sense of the heart imploding into a cave. Look inside that cave, feel inside that cave, and breathe. Do you experience loneliness, hurt, fear? Let yourself express your grief for as long as it lasts. If nothing happens, try again tomorrow. The blocked heart can take a while. Do not be impatient with yourself. Write down your experiences after you resurface.

Decide that every day for a week you will open the window of your heart and speak your truth to someone. It could be a simple, “I appreciate your work here” to a colleague, or “I am sorry for what I said yesterday.” Write down your feelings of vulnerability while attempting these confessions of the heart. If you do not manage to reveal, make a note and try again with someone safer.

Practice silly time once a week, where your body is wiggling around, falling, flying, giggling, and dancing in order to reconnect with the silly child in the heart! (Watch a three-year-old playing outside in the sun for inspiration.)

Take a day and try not to lie even once. No small lies, no avoiding the truth, and see how you feel. The exposure may be stimulating, but terrifying as well. Take note of when you can’t help but lie needlessly out of habit. Take note of when you remain silent instead of possibly hurting someone’s feelings.

Take a day or two and write down when you have exploded-throat moments (if at all), and when you clam up. Diagnose yourself. Are you exploded or imploded on a regular basis?

A balanced fifth chakra means that when you speak you are truthful and creative with your expression, yet you are also comfortable in silence. Where in your life do you experience this balance? What elements of that environment allow you to feel the freedom of voice and silence? Think carefully about such a place and circumstances, and see whether you can bring those qualities to the stage when needed.

Spend a day in sixth chakra. Keep your energy focused on the brow and the sensitivity of your antennae. You will be in observation mode, so keep a journal handy to write down intuitions that occur. Notice that the thoughts of those you are closest to may pop into your brain before they speak.

Picture the antennae funneling back inside your head. Turn those receivers inward, and spend part of the day in a place of introspection. Sense the inner dialogue and opinions that circulate without outside stimuli. Write a monologue in your journal using this voice.

Picture a change that you would like to happen in your life—maybe a relationship, a particular job, or the resolution of a problem. Picture the world with this change exactly as you want it. Spend the next day, or week, living in the world as if this change has been made. See whether life starts to shift to accommodate your vision.

Eat a nice meal so you are not cranky.

Have one drink, not two, so you are relaxed but don’t fall asleep or catcall the players.

Expect to enjoy what you are about to see, no matter what you have heard.

Imagine you are a child about to see the circus, wide-eyed and excited.

Stay out of the analytical mind until after the play has or has not affected you on a physical level.

Remain in your seat after it is over and feel the play. Do not jump up and fight the crowd.

Resist the temptation to give the play a “good” or “bad” rating for at least an hour.

Stand up for your feelings about the play, whether or not others in your party have different opinions. Everyone does not have to agree, even if you think everyone is cooler than you.

If you do have strong opinions, please use the word “my” when stating them, and refrain from making others with different opinions feel stupid or out of it. Saying the play was “bad” assumes that your opinion is suitable for everyone. However, it is your opinion and yours only.

If you are truly moved, take the time to stay after and simply thank the performer. These thanks can be life-changing for them as well.