Being called Home.
The Rebellious Heart of Yoga.
Preface: In one of the substack writer’s groups I work with, I had to really dig into the nitty gritty of introducing myself and what I offer. It makes me cringe every time. But this might be my favorite explanation of what I feel yoga is all about. Beyond all the poses and flows, yoga is pretty punk rock. As you peel away all the layers of cultural conditioning to work from the outside in, there beats a rebellious heart.
There is no question that leaves me dangling by my britches off a cliff of an existential crisis more than “What is it that you do?” Followed by, “Why do you do what you do?” It’s not like people walk around asking these two questions all the time, but I get tripped up in a tangle of words.
The easiest reply is to say, “I teach yoga”. But the conversation that ensues after always leaves me squeamish. It usually involves some kind of reassurance that you don’t have to be bendy to try yoga. Sometimes, I’m nudged in the direction of health and exercise advice.
Don’t get me wrong, I do really love cueing movement and connecting people to their own bodies. I love introducing people to wellness lifestyles like ayurveda. All are incredibly valuable discussions.
But what I want to actually say is that I became a yoga teacher because it was the most subversive thing I could do.
It just takes one dastardly episode of mad men to see that they’ve been messing with our psyche for a long time. It’s all part of cultural conditioning. Long before A.I. - WE were the ones being trained.
Seduced, promised, and lied to like every bad for me relationship - I jumped right in. I got with the program. I friended, liked, bought my way into every bit of it. To the extent that it’s now hard to delete my facebook account and I consider it a victory that I haven’t bought anything from amazon in over a month.
Social media, entertainment outlets, even the media have become a three ring circus of diversion. It’s not like we don’t know “better” or at times actively seek to be distracted, but it has become embedded in our psychology. We’ve been soothed and comforted all of our lives by shiny objects and fantasy scenarios.
It seems like these preoccupations can be divided into
The things you’re chasing after.
The things you’re running from.
Either way, we’re on the run not standing still.
Gradually, we've been drawn outside ourselves for all the answers. We’ve been tricked to believe that it’s no longer safe to trust our gut. We’ve been dizzied by conflicting sources and false facts. The buzz has become so loud that it drowns out any possibility of hearing our own voice of reason.
Maybe some have been asleep in the poppy fields too long, letting others define who they are and what they want? Collectively, we’re being called from the chaos to return to the beautiful, awkward, delicate humanity of ourselves. Only to realize the power therein. Individually, these moments are pivotal - they need an awakening.
Yoga is like a mama standing on the front stoop shouting that it’s time. Yelling your name over and over and over - until you hear the call. Until you pay attention, stop what you’re doing and come running excited to finally come home.
This is yoga I want to teach.
I’ll leave the porch light on.
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