Unhating Yoga

I didn’t really think I’d get back into teaching yoga, especially since 4 years ago (through working on my thesis in May of last year) I considered writing a book called “I Hate Yoga”. It’s what I felt strongly about. That’s where I’d ended up after 8 years of owning a studio both in Ohio and Montana.

I suppose my sentiments about yoga - specifically The Industry and American Yoga - fall into the same category as my sentiments about Petersburg after having been on the board of Main Street Petersburg and owning a business here, and other situations where I’ve made the choice to step behind the curtain. In a word: Disenchantment. Disillusionment probably works too since, if I’m honest with myself, I easily fall for the illusion of things. The potential of it. God, I hate that word, now. But, there are so many things, like yoga, like Petersburg, like AI, like humans, that have the potential to be used for good.

Since mentioning to a number of customers, neighbors, and friends that I was considering offering yoga classes at my creative studio when it opens (I’m getting used to saying that instead of wine shop), more and more people have expressed interest. I’m going to oblige, but with boundaries this time. This time around it’s going to be done on my terms. Here’s why: I don’t want to keep hating yoga.

Hate the game, not the player. Or just don’t hate at all. In fact, since I was old enough to know, I’ve reserved my hate for the Klan, people who hurt children, and people who hurt animals. That’s like with the hate-y-ist hate that ever hated. Everything else falls under something else.

This time around, not only do I know more about yoga and the yoga industry, but I know more about myself.

How different life would be if we were born with a deeper sense of self-awareness and self-knowledge. But then, what would be the point of life?

Still. It’s annoying that I’m only just now figuring out who I am, who I want to be when I grow up, and (this is the big one) that I’m okay with it. So much of my life has been spent giving so much of a shit about how everyone else felt, like my parents and grandparents and friends and my dog, that I never really spent any time noticing how anything made me feel. There’s a lot of psychology behind that. I know because I’ve spent a lot of time reading books and articles about this. I want to know myself. I want to understand myself. Because in understanding myself better, I can better serve the world. And, to be very clear, serving the world doesn’t mean giving all of myself, giving up who I am, or over-serving to the point of depletion. I mean, taking care of myself so that I can take care of others.

This time around, I’m building classes around my energy and my space/time. It wasn’t until the last year of having my studio in Ohio that I updated my website to say “Kick your ass someplace else”. That’s not to say that my classes aren’t challenging. Trust me, they can be. But I was tired of trying to cater to the people that only based their level of yoga-ing on if they left drenched.

Hot yoga has its place, but with limits because it can harm you. Bikram Yoga was created for Americans by a terrible Indian man who took advantage of his students in all of the most awful ways. I walk outside here in Virginia in August and sweat without lifting a finger. Frequently, I sweat the most when I’m focusing on doing a standing balance.

Sweating isn’t a great gauge of effort, is what I’m saying. And besides, “effort” is a relative term.

The yoga industry has made billions, BILLIONS on people who think it’s a quick fix or the proof of something deeper or that it’s a panacea. If you wear these pants. If you use this mat. If you burn this incense. If you light this candle. If you say this chant. If you drink this tea (or Kool-Aid).

There are certain clothes you should wear, yes. Something that breathes, that allows movement without you fussing with it, and that doesn’t ride up your butt or to your neck when you’re in downdog or a handstand. I wear pretty simple, almost crappy clothes when I practice and teach. It’s not a fashion or beauty contest. It’s not a contest at all, which is another rant that I won’t get into.

There are better mats than others, yes. A sticky mat that isn’t too thick. That way, you aren’t using the wrong muscles to hold yourself in a pose and end up hurting yourself.

The Industry and American Yoga be damned.

Here’s what I’ve learned after decades of practice and a decade of teaching:

Yoga, to me, is movement, stillness, patience, practice, noticing, breath, resilience, balance, and grace. All of these things are simple but not necessarily easy.

Yoga is not: Goats. Beer. Wine. Booty. Bro. Instagram.

I no longer want to hate yoga. I want to unhate it, dishate it, become re-enchanted with it.

Yoga, for me, is a mindset and, in many ways, a lifestyle.

One of the points I’ve made in the past is that yoga is very much like Christianity. Great in theory, ruined by its followers. Yoga is something that you practice daily and weekly, and you practice it even when you’re off the mat. Christianity is something you practice daily and weekly, and you practice it even when you’re not in church. There are guidelines, philosophies, and lessons. They were both created a couple thousand years ago and then “improved upon” by white people in the past couple hundred years. There are good ideas and some that are no longer relevant. They were created by men. Women weren’t allowed for a while. There are main books, but also other resources to read that enhance and/or scientifically contradict the original works. They both have lessons that require practice to understand, grasp, and implement. One can’t be perfect at yoga just like one can’t be perfect at Christianity. One doesn’t do yoga, one practices it. One doesn’t do Christianity, one practices it.

I dislike yoga in the same ways I dislike Christianity. There’s hypocrisy and misinformation. Distortion and the misuse of power. To practice either well it requires the practitioner to think for themselves and not accept everything as gospel. Not all things are fit for all people. Christianity may not have poses, per se, but there are plenty of teachings in it that shouldn’t be considered as blanket lessons applicable to all. Be wary of absolutes.

This time around, I’m not teaching yoga (or doing my life) to make everyone happy. That’s a straight way to burn out, failure, and depression. It’s a fool’s errand, for sure. I’m not concerned with trends or styles or capitalism. I need to make money, but I’m not chasing it. The way my life has worked thus far is that when I’m doing the thing that’s right for me, the money shows up.

This time around, I’m not going to let the dark side of yoga seep in. The marketing and scams. The scam artists, the teachers, and the classes that seem too good to be true. The software and programs. The money makers. The simplifiers. The dark side of yoga is no different than the dark side of anything else.

Beware the gurus that think they’re a god and not simply a teacher.

If I’ve learned anything from Star Wars, it’s that.

You are your own guru. (I could write a treatise on the intricacies of that statement, especially considering the climate of our country where education has been made to be seen as the enemy.)

Yoga is a rabbit hole of things to learn and that’s why I love it. Like with wine. I could spend a lifetime on just the anatomy of the body or the breath. I could spend a lifetime on just the wines of Bordeaux. I could focus only on the philosophy of yoga. I could nerd out only on the geography of the wine regions in France. But why limit myself? Keep going down the rabbit hole. Let’s see where it takes me this time.

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