January 13, 2012


The usually quiet yoga community has been abuzz since the appearance of "How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body," an article that appeared in the New York Times on Jan. 5 online and on Jan. 8 in print.

Here is my response to this controversial article via another controversy from 2009, both of which I will use to make the point that, well, yoga is not exercise.

The 2009 Controvery

In 2009, three states, New York, Virginia, and Michigan initiated legal proceedings to require all vocational schools, including yoga schools, to properly apply for licensure as vocational schools.  This meant that yoga schools in these states, very often operating on tight budgets, had to acquire proper, and costly, credentials through the state.  Yoga practitioners and yoga schools came out in force, as oxymoronic as that may sound, to oppose the proposal.  Ultimately, Virginia and New York exempted yoga schools from the law in 2010.

Don't celebrate yet!  Many yogis will be surprised to find out that three states, Arizona, Texas, and Wisconsin already have laws in place that require yoga teacher training schools to obtain licensure as vocational schools.  It is surprising, however, Wisconsin has far more Yoga Alliance registered Registered Yoga Schools than there are properly state-licensured schools.  This means that, at least in Wisconsin, even though the law is in place, it is not enforced and/or RYSs are not aware of the law.  These licensured and unlicensured schools coexist, the law is either ignored and/or unenforced.

What could this mean?  In my opinion, yoga classes and yoga schools have always  resisted and defied neat and definite mold of what they are.  On the whole, long-time and dedicated practitioners would agree that yoga is more of a meditation, self-improvement method though there is a definite side effect of enabling fitness in the process.  It has always been bringing mind and body together, never this or that.

Yoga is fluid.  It cannot be pinned down.  Just as your body is different every moment of your life, yoga is different every time you practice it.  It needs to be approached with care, it needs to be approached with an open mind and an open body as something to be felt.  Never as something to be conquered or mastered.

Similarly, yoga schools are also hard to define.  Sure, one needs to have proper certification from a Yoga Alliance registered school to teach at yoga studios or gyms.  However, many who go through training do so, not to become teachers, but rather to deepen their yoga practice both on and off the mat.  For these people, it is not a vocational undertaking, but rather a personal and spiritual one.  Hence, though it is teacher training, it is sometimes not.  Hence, teacher training is, again, not this or that, but rather this and that.

Yoga schools are fluid.  True, they train people to become yoga teachers.  Many schools have a procedure by which to select candidates.  Hopefully, if they do it right, they will choose those who are dedicated to the practice, those who know the fluid nature of yoga, those who are in it with mind and body.  At the same time, yoga schools lead people to discover themselves, to play, to expand, in other words, not to teach.  But to guide.

Now we come to the article at hand.

The 2012 Controversy

The way I understand this article is this.  It is written by someone who has been practicing yoga for a while.  It is also an excerpt from a book, or is adapted from a book, called The Science of Yoga: The Risks and Rewards.

It lists only risks, with pictures to accompany of people in asanas in the most awkward way imaginable.  One look at the picture, at least for me as yoga "teacher" and those who have practiced yoga with a qualified teacher for a long time, you would immediately say, "get out of that pose! You are not doing it safely!"

The article features prominently a long-time yoga teacher who laments how yoga isn't for everyone, including some teachers.  It implies that, even though this particular teacher says, "make it easy," "awareness is more important than rushing through a series of postures," yoga isn't safe even for this experienced teacher since he has had to undergo a major operation to fuse the vertebrae in his lumbar spine together.  The teacher attributes it to years of twisting and and bending.

It then goes on to the more sensational, at least when concerning yoga injuries--yes, injuries, because any physical activity can lead to injuries including picking up a tissue off the floor--cases where people hurt their necks so badly that they are debilitated for years without the prospect of getting back to their healthy selves.  The whole article smacks of sensationalism.  It is fear-mongering.  It is hyperbolic in its presentation.  Do I make myself clear?

I personally have a thing about neck injuries and I have written about my experience on this blog.  I suffered it when I was not vigilant about a particular pose.  But that is the operative word here.  Viligant.  I was not vigilant.  I was in the conquering mood.  I was going to conquer the pose with my ego.  This injury taught me more than anything that happened to me as a student or a teacher.

An inexperienced teacher, for example, would simply tell students to turn their head to the sky in triangle pose whether their neck is drooping down, hyper-extended, or even hyper-flexed.  An experienced teacher, on the other hand, would instruct students to lengthen the back of the neck, create space between the shoulders and the ears, and only then to gently turn the head to the sky.

An inexperienced teacher, for example, would simply tell students to lift the legs without regard to what the neck is doing in a shoulder stand.  An experienced teacher will remind students to take the pressure out of the neck and into the shoulders.  An experienced teacher will also remind students to lift the chin away from the chest to maintain the natural c-curve of the cervical spine during a shoulder stand.

An inexperienced teacher will tell students to simply twist their body in half lord of the fish pose without regard to whether the spine is long, flexed, or extended.  An experienced teacher, on the other hand, will tell the students to ground the tailbone down, to lift through the heart, to energize the back of the neck by gazing strongly forward, and then to gently twist from the thoracic spine and then finally to turn the head.  This kind of detailed verbalization of what the body is doing comes only from experience.

But teachers can talk all they want.  People wander into classes in a conquering mood just like I was when I hurt myself.  Most teachers would agree that they have had students who were just too eager to kick up, too eager to bend, and too eager to bind and twist.

These people may as well believe in running marathon on the second day of training.  The point is, no one would ever think of doing this.  No one would also ever think of competing in gymnastics or figure skating without the proper preparation over a long period of time.  But why do people think that they can conquer the poses that may take years to do correctly after just a few classes?

There is a pervasive thought out there that yoga is always completely safe no matter what one does.  And why not?  We don't bounce on our joints.  We don't go anywhere.  How can you, after all, do any harm stretching?  Anyone can stretch.  Anyone can do that.

The problem is that this "anyone can do that" comes with a caveat.  The caveat is that, while anyone can do it, you have to also know what you are doing.  That is why it is important to have a knowledgeable teacher, an experienced teacher, a teacher that you trust.  Yoga teachers occupy a singular role.  They are teachers, but in order to be good teachers, they have to be good students as well.  That is why there is such an emphasis on continuing education and developing a personal practice, and, on having a guru or gurus.

I am always wary of teachers who can't name their guru/s.  Sui generis, maybe, you say??  So unyogic!  The transmission of yoga knowledge is unlike any other: it is transmitted from teacher to student, who then becomes a teacher to another students, etc.  There is always a clear lineage.

So, to anyone contemplating yoga as a way to well-being:

Here is what I would say.  Yoga is tremendously beneficial.  Make sure that you have a good, experienced teacher who knows how the body works and how to convey that knowledge verbally and with a gentle touch (and never by pushing!) in helping you find and feel yourself in a pose.  Also, make sure that you park your ego at the door.  Yoga is not a competitive sport, not against others, nor against yourself.

Most of all, yoga is not exercise.  It is a moving meditation. It is a way for us to explore ourselves, how we relate to others and to the world.  The moment you start thinking of it as exercise, you are going to overdo it because when we exercise, we conquer--whether our best time or our best score.  Come to yoga as a way to find yourself.  If you get lean and fit in the process, that is just an added benefit.

So here we go again.  Yoga is fluid.  It is a way to get fit, but in its essence it is not.  It is a way to find peace, but you also find your health.  It straddles many worlds.  But one thing is for sure--it is a way for you to find yourself in the world.

   

January 3, 2012

Happy New Year!!!

I had this awesome gift of teaching a partner yoga class tonight to a lovely couple and a circle of their closest friends on the wife's 40th birthday.  I know the family well--the wife, the husband, and the daughter, all of whom come to my class regularly.  The husband thanked me after class for being such a big part of his family, which was just so, so sweet.  Wow, I was very humbled to be considered part of their family, knowing that I only see them once a week.

Hearing this comment gave me an occasion to think about my role as a yoga teacher.  What do I do when I stand in front of the class?  What kind of impression, impact do I make on my students?  Why is it that yoga, unlike so many other forms of exercise, whether mental or physical, is capable of stirring such emotions and sentiments in students?

It is difficult for me as a yoga teacher to know the answers to these.  First of all, I am in their lives only one, two, maybe three hours a week.  That is a very small amount considering that a week has 168 hours.  What kind of effect can I possibly have in these people's busy lives?

I have to keep reminding myself that I am not only a teacher, but also a guide.  That's right.  To say that I teach yoga is only a part of what I do when I do stand in front of the class.  It is so much more than just telling students what to do.  It is so much more than just adjusting their bodies so that they may unfold in ways the students thought were impossible.  It is so much more than just spending one or two hours talking.

It is so much more than any of those.

More than teaching, I guide them as they go through their emotions during the practice.  I guide them as they experience their bodies and start to see the unfolding of possibilities of all kinds during the practice. I teach far more than how to bend and bind, I guide them through the process of how to deal with life one hour at a time.  Guiding them through their breath, how to breathe in and breathe out, how to feel with their bodies, to see with their eyes closed, to hear with their skin--that is just some of what I do during a class.  I don't tell them what to do.  I guide them as they find their own path.

That is why being in the seat of a yoga teacher is so gratifying--to see people's lives transformed.  It is also scary at the same time!  To think that I may have this kind of impact on other people's lives?  To think that I have this awesome responsibility to other people and that people are impacted by me and my classes in such intimate way??  If I hadn't gone through this transformation myself, I would have believed that all of this is just nonsense.  All I can say is that yoga transforms, not only the students, but also the teachers.  Students inspire students as the teachers inspire students.

A student of mine told me that I am one of her gurus.  And that is such a compliment.   Just I am a guru to this student, I have gurus, too.   And that is what yoga teachers are in their role--gurus. hey are teachers who guide, they are guides who show the way, and they are examples of what lies on this path.

That is an awesome responsibility not to be taken lightly.




   

December 10, 2011


It is a well-guarded secret that yoga teachers, too, experience pain and injury. We may make things look easy depending on the teacher's experience, but, as with any physical activity, yoga can also injure, especially if the poses are not done correctly and repeated over time, and/or one muscles through a pose by sheer determination of the ego. Sure, it happens to everyone. Even yoga teachers can be overwhelmed by the ego, especially when the teacher teaches by teaching only, rather than by guiding.


When I am teaching a class, and I know that we are doing a pose that is very often misaligned, then I always say, "If you are feeling pain, do not stay in pain. Get yourself out of the pose, realign your body, and try again." Realigning the body is the operative word here--no amount of doing anything over and over again the same wrong way will make the pose feel better to the body. If something hurts, then something is not right.


Sometimes though, I will ask students to differentiate between pain and unfamiliarity. Yoga poses get the bodies into a kind of alignment of muscles and bones that one may not be familiar with and, thus, one may feel uneasy or even afraid of getting oneself into the posture. Then, it is not pain, rather, it is the unfamiliar use of the body that one is experiencing. That is a good thing. The possibilities from there are endless.


I found this by Kino McGregor, via Yoga in the Dragon's Den blog. Here Kino is talking about Ashtanga yoga, the discipline of yoga that so many are afraid of trying because it is so notoriously hard on the body. But what she says applies to everyone in all schools of yoga, whether they are teachers or practitioners.

"It is not enough to feel pain and push through; actually pushing through some types of pain is pure insanity. Instead pain is your teacher on a much deeper level that forces you to dig deep into the heart of yoga... Pain is your motivation to learn healthy alignment, better technique and more efficient movement patterns.


If the way that you approach your physical body leads to injury and suffering it generally indicates that it is time to use that sensation to motivate yourself to try a new method of movement. Many people take their first experience of pain in yoga as a sign to change styles of yoga, but if the deeper question of technique and alignment is not addressed the same injury will just reappear later.


If you can recognize pain as a signal to retrain your movement patterns to an empirically sound method then you will find a new freedom in your yoga practice. Rather than jumping ship from one style of yoga to another the best course of action is to use your rational mind to learn a new approach to the postures and movements that give you pain. Discovering a healthy use of the body and making small adjustments to your approach will alleviate pain caused by unhealthy movement patterns. If you listen and change your approach the pain eventually disappears.


When yoga says that pain is your teacher it does not ask you to plow through blindly. Instead pain is your motivation to make the changes in your technical approach to movement in order to be healthier and ultimately free from the kind of pain that will injure you."




There you have it. Kino's words take the phrase, "no pain, no gain" to a whole different level. Letting pain be our guide in taking yoga to its core may be a strange concept to those who think of yoga as just stretching. On the other hand, letting pain be the guide in getting deep into the heart of yoga practice may be strange to those who think of yoga as that which produces only pain and subsequently think of yoga as a fitness routine. In the end, we use pain in order not to be in it. And in order for us not to be in it, we also have to know what it is.