Twists
Although I have done some yoga on and off since I was in school, I recently got back into it quite seriously, determined to explore the practice with a view to improving my concentration and strength. The usual buzzwords. Mindfulness. Calm and focus. Strength and flexibility. Overall health, instead of the continuous (and always losing) battle with the bulge. Although I do go to the gym irregularly to run, swim and lift weights and feel good about it afterwards, the main struggle always has been to actually get myself there. Quite simply, the repetitive exercise bores me very quickly, no matter how many upbeat songs I burn on to the Ipod, and before I know it I’m back at home, mindlessly knitting and munching something as I watch the next DVD of Poirot or Law & Order. Mmmmmmmm.
The only thing that makes me go back without bitching and moaning, it turns out, is a yoga class – and I recently decided that I should really give it another shot. Once again, I have the usual buzzwords to describe how I feel – more energetic, more positive, strong, focused, with the joy of breathing and the calm of concentration. So when my teacher mentioned a yoga retreat right during my spring break not far from here, I jumped at it as a chance to “deepen my practice.” I had no idea what to expect, other than a hope that this would not be a spa with some contortions and new-agey conversations sprinkled in for variety.
I have to admit that the luxurious surroundings (it wasn’t Bali or the Bahamas, where many of these retreats are apparently held nowadays, but still!) and the whole sense of well-heeled sociality that pervaded the place left me a little unsettled, but overall, it was a tremendous experience. One of the emphases was on improving concentration, and it is hard to describe that feeling of absolute stillness and awareness I felt during one meditation session as I found a rhythm of breathing I could work with. It was a glimpse into the kind of concentration one can strive towards, like the last stages of writing a paper, when it all seems to come together and all that matters is making sure my fingers keep pace with my thoughts – intense bursts of productivity, alas all too rare. The other emphasis was on technique, especially in inversions and backbends, and I shall never forget the exact moment when my feet gently left the ground in a headstand and I felt progressively lighter, and lighter, and lighter. I squealed in delight and fell right back, but that momentary feeling of balance and lightness was wonderful.
There is much about the contemporary ‘consumption’ of yoga that I find interesting as well as disturbing. There’s the ‘branding’ into ever more fashionable styles and lifestyles in different parts of the world. There’s also the consumption of yoga as national heritage, of late with a renewed fervour, amongst the new Indian middle classes. The casual, Orientalising discussions of yoga as a timeless, ancient spiritual practice, set alongside its importance as a sign of regenerative nationalism and anti-colonial masculinity, make it difficult to simplistically label this as ‘tradition.’ It is something I have been generally familiar with for a long time, but its long history, evolution and depth I hardly know academically, let alone organically; after all, not only do age-old practices like yoga have a social and intellectual history embedded in politics over the centuries, but they were also reframed and redeployed as part of a modern Indian nationalist politics. Its invocations continue to be political in the broadest sense, whether in India or elsewhere.
In trying to learn more about it, I find myself continuously turning the historical or ethnographic lens on myself and those around me. The urge to historicize sometimes collides, and sometimes colludes, with the urge to deepen my learning through actual practice, but perhaps, to use yet another buzzword, this will keep me grounded. In the months to come I might use this space to explore some more of these engagements and thoughts. What are your thoughts and experiences with a yoga practice? Care to comment?
Last but not least, thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback on the Cobblestone-Wallaby hybrid; I have worn it almost incessantly since last weekend!
PS: That Currer picture right at the top? I’m not feeling the love for the pattern; alas, it’s probably headed for the slaughterhouse.
PPS: I knit most of that Regia sock at the retreat – look at those calm, even stitches!
PPPS: The new project is the Wicked vest from the Classic Elite free web-letter; the yarn is Elsebeth Lavold in Sandstone.
I did ashtanga for several years and loved it. I’ve been able to maintain some (though far from all) of the flexibility, and it’s given me a greater sense of awareness of my body. Over the past several years, though, my schedule has changed to where I can’t really attend regular classes and I’ve developed wrist problems (ganglion cyst and old chip fracture) that make it difficult for me to bear weight on them. Apparently it does suck getting old.
I thought about you as I was in your neighborhood this past weekend. It was fun being back in the Bay area again after a really long time, but I didn’t have nearly enough time to visit as I would have liked.
I’ve been practicing yoga on and off, mostly on, since 2002. I love the physical part and mostly tolerate the more meditative part. One time, during the final relaxation, I had the feeling of focused relaxation that I suspect I am supposed to be striving for always. It was lovely, but it only happened once. I am suspicious of the new agey elements of yoga because they feel to me like they draw on a colonialist notion of “ancient Indian secrets” for their power, and that gets under my skin. But I do love me some yoga.
Love the sock, and that Classic Elite pattern is very intriguing.
I have never seriously done yoga – just bits and parts of it here and there. The concept sounds perfect for these hectic days, and if it improves concentration – bonus!!!
I practiced yoga regularly the year I lived in Urbana–I adored the yoga studio there–and have since then had fits and starts when I tried to keep up a practice on my own. But I’ve never found classes I like as much as I liked the ones there. It was an Iyengar studio, but what I loved was the teacher–she took it very seriously, obviously, but expressed that very matter-of-factly, and not at all cheesily new age-ily. (How about all those new adverbs!)
And now, there are so many options in Toronto, I don’t even know where to start. I’ve been meaning to post a question in the ravelry Toronto board about yoga studios… perhaps I will.
This is such a conflicted subject–I’m glad to see a real discussion about it and not just praise of the benefits of yoga (of which there are many). I’ve done yoga here and there, but never with any real dedication. And I’m completely conflicted about it for all the reasons you list. Whenever I walk into a yoga studio, I can’t distinguish between what is essentially ripping off culture and ancestry and what is actual thoughtful embrace of something potentially intense and important. So, really, this is one of the reasons I’ve stayed away. As a Westerner, is it possible for me to engage with this in a meaningful way, while still understanding and respecting yoga for what it really is? But, as you say, if the resurgence within the country of origin is also often somewhat suspect (i.e. merely consumption and exportation and less history and tradition), how could it be any different for me? I suppose I have no insight to offer except that, while whenever I’ve done yoga I’ve found it beneficial and been interested and exporting it more, I’ve simultaneously struck by the pop culture/westernization of it–and this bothers me. I suppose it’s interesting that individuals who are prone to overthinking everything could really benefit from yoga (mindfulness, focus, balance), but those same people (myself included) seriously consider the very issues and politics surrounding the practice of yoga and either don’t engage in it or do so hesitantly (and perhaps miss some of the benefits, then).
I think femiknitter took the words right out of my mouth. On the one hand the colonialism and the consumerism both rub me very much the wrong way, but on the other I think that there is something very valuable at the core and that worrying about the ways that the West has dealt with yoga is just as much of an impediment to getting at that core as it would be to accept the whole package blindly, as given (by the peddlers of $50 tank tops). I feel the same way, frankly, if not more so, about Zen Buddhism, with which I have more personal experience than with yoga.
This is a really fascinating and thoughtul post. I would love to hear more of your experiences and insights as you continue along.
I do yoga at home and love what it does for my body, but since I’m doing it “with” my 2 year old I don’t get the same kind of mental experience that others enjoy. One of the things I’m most looking forward to about the changes in our lives over the next year is that I should be able to start practicing in a class. I think it will be a really positive change.
The retreat sounds great. Unlike you, I would not be able to get into the historical and political implications at all, but I learnt yoga in India as a teenager, and it is one of the routines I happily go back to, again, and again, even though I don’t practice regularly (although I should). Nothing feels as ‘complete’ as yoga. btw, you already know my thoughts on Americanized yoga, no? If not, we will have do it over a suitable beverage – the comment section might not suffice.
Yo-ga.
Hum.
As you know, I’m a dancer (as well as a dance scholar — history and cultural studies). And being a dancer has lead me to explore yoga primarily from an embodied/body knowledge/somatic (whatever you want to call it coming from a person with a deeply developed sense of proprioception). First off dancers — professional dancers in America tend to love yoga. Eat it up. Get teacing certifications by the droves. And a lot of dance scholars I know love yoga — swear it is the only thing that got them through dissertations and jobs. And people in the somatics field are often likely to be into some type of yoga practice. So I am a total weirdo because yoga bothers me.
When I was a kid in the 70s I used to watch my mom do yoga in a bright yellow sunny leotard. I liked looking at all the drawings in her yoga book. These are fond memories.
The studio I went to first in NYC as an adult was pretty and pleasant. Sometimes I’d come out energized, sometimes feeling stoned and spacey. But on the whole, as an experience, it all felt so superficial. Instructors, students, people trying hard to grasp for something outside of themselves… I think since embodiment and embodied knowledge are a large part of my daily world and primary form of interaction and communication (my profession, really) that putting it in tandem with superficial (and I don’t mean superficial in the American slang sense but in the more technical use of the word) left me feeling way disjunctive.
My second and third attempts at starting in with yoga (twelve years later) I remember simply not liking the physical sensations. (The instructors were fellow dancers.) I’m not sure what the problem was exactly. Dancers deal with pain, discomfort, injury, soreness along with the absolute high of the joy of the body in motion. Something about the yoga postures just wasn’t feeling good at all.
So for the following two and a half years I picked postures that I liked well enough — just five — and did them every morning at home with some sunlight coming in through the windows and the birds singing.
Later I moved to a place where there was no space for yoga. I noticed a decided drop in my physical abilities and peacefulness without those five. Bummer.
Here in Madison, I stopped by a yoga studio to give it yet another shot. I think because I am a dancer and am good a copying shapes and look body smart yoga instructors think I know yoga. I don’t. But this class injured me something fierce and I am now completely uninterested in ever doing yoga again. Yuck, no thank you, done.
Enter my Hindi teacher (from Rajasthan). He is a yogi as well as a PhD student. He is an excellent Hindi teacher. My Hindi is growing leaps and bounds. And we have great scholarly discussions on identity and diaspora, cultural theory and research. I am almost willing to let him guide me into yoga. I get the sense that he is as honest and deep with his physicality as I am with mine. And yeah, physicality has a big spiritual dimension (I’m not leaving that out. Its a part of it all — dance, yoga, physical rituals, bicycling, meditation, whatever — but it has to arise honestly for me rather than be put over the top). Though I am still very much done with trying out the yoga, I might be tempted enough by trust… T’ai chi on the other hand has worked very well for me, but I was lucky to study right off the bat with someone who was a master practitioner and a master instructor. It’s been really satisfying work.
Hope this wasn’t too long of a post… Gotta run.
Cheers!
Hey, thanks for the thoughtful, detailed responses, all.
Mel, the classes I attend here at the Y are a mix of stuff – some people say they are Iyengar followers, others do the Ashtanga sequence (which I am only just finding out about!) but how exactly these differ I am still quite clueless about.
Ruth, Stella and Feminiknitter, I have a somewhat similar dilemma – is there any way to avoid the package as it is peddled today (for me it’s both the $50 tops thing and the “it’s our ancient tradition and it’s so great” thing) but still learn meaningfully about it? Paradoxically, one way to do this is to accept the “pop-culturification” of it as part of its long history of evolution, I guess. Or else run the risk of continuously seeking an authentic, ancient core and denying the practice any history, which is itself quite an Orientalist approach. Did either of you have the actual Yogasutra texts or others as part of your class?
Evolvingtastes, it does indeed seem ‘complete’; mainly for me, because I like its emphasis on health rather than body beautiful. In fact, I am really hoping that the practice can help me accept my physical body for what it is, rather than the relentless weight-loss effort. But I also feel a little uncomfortable with the criticism only of Americanized yoga – it seems the new Indianized versions also come with their own tall claims and make hay at the expense of all kinds of anxieties people have about standard allopathic medicine.
Mary, my yoga teacher here is a dancer! It’s too bad you didn’t feel the yoga love – but you know what, my sister, who is a Bharat Natyam dancer, also doesn’t enjoy it that much, even though she is very flexible. I am struck by your statement about how the physicality has a spiritual dimension – and the teacher over the retreat had a lot to say about that too. Problem is that sometimes this vocabulary has the potential to sound, as Ruth said, spuriously new-agey – I guess the challenge for me is also to try and express some of these experiences as I go along, without feeling like it’s all spurious like this.
I danced all the way through my M.A. (but I don’t have the Balanchine body, so I never did it professionally; I’m more Fonteyn than Farrell). I got exercise-induced asthma about half-past my doctorate, and had to quit everything. Then I got tired of sitting still, so I tried the campus yoga class. I loved it. My flexibility and stamina improved without a single asthma attack. Because the class is run through the rec-sports division, it’s taught as a strictly physical endeavor. No new-age-a-riffic jargon!
i have done it on and off for 2 years.. following a dvd.. and I feel so refreshed.. and only if i do it in the morning.. it dosent have the same effect in the evening.. somehow i cant get myself to go to a class. Maybe this summer..
anyway back to your q- for me personally the breathing and thinking about the breathing helps.. esp since my thoughts sometimes run faster than i can speak or type.. just like with knitting.. thoughts need to go in a sequential order.. only then it makes sense.. so yoga does help me with that. I havent done it regularly enough to enjoy flexibility (i cant touch my toes without bending my knees!) or health benefits..
Yes, the spiritual aspects of things get all messed up in the pursuit of spirituality. And truly, it all sort of hinges in what a person’s definition is. There is definitely the new-agey spirituality that is just so… annoying and cloying. When it comes to spirituality in the moving body, I definite the spiritual element as sheer joy — when all the details fall into sync and the body in motion flies as a whole sum far greater than its parts. And it isn’t just moving or dancing… though I know a number of professional and famous dancers who say similar things. But in a bite of food, or a passage in a book, or the finishing stages of a paper, or a day on the meditation cushion in the sun and the breeze… when there is sheer joy, I find that satisfying and categorize it as a spiritual element. I know there are others who would define spiritual or spirituality differently. And others who try to teach spiritual experiences of various types (which always makes me uncomfortable). So what’s your take on the spiritual dimension of yoga (or anything for that matter). What is taught in yoga classes as the spiritual dimension? And why, by the way, does new-age coo-coo-ness have such an interest in various Indian cultural practices? It took me ages to be able to listen to Indian classical music and not be overcome with images of comatose stoners and the Beatles and the wild crazy Woodstock dance style from the 60s. I’ve managed, thankfully… THANKFULLY
I find this line of thought particularly interesting, and am looking forward to reading more of your thoughts on the subject. I totally understand what you mean by “contemporary ‘consumption’ of yoga” especially since I live among the SoCal Yoga/Prius/Canvas Bag carrying Hummer drivers. I got the impression that true yoga would embody asceticism rather than overpriced ‘must have’ gear, but I don’t have links or books to reference for that general feeling.
I myself have tried Yoga, and the teacher creeped me out. She wasn’t Asian, although I’m sure she was qualified. Overall the class wasn’t a good fit as I felt very uncomfortable around the teacher.
I’ve found I like to practice Aikido, and the best place for me is a dojo that is a not for profit, non belt oriented school. I wonder if such things exist for Yoga as well?
I am quite interested in the Americanization of the art, because I find Southeast Asia and Asian practices and society so compelling. I’m curious what people who live in Asia must think of that, as in, is it insulting or annoying?
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