The Real Thing

Seen the big NYT Magazine article on Anusara yoga this weekend?

One of the main themes was whether American schools of yoga are "authentic" or not. This article focused on the founder of Anusara, John Friend, and how he trained with yoga masters like BKS Iyengar and then broke away to form his own "brand" of yoga, which has become extremely popular in America.

I think the writer did a fair job of explaining in a few words what Anusara classes emphasize that makes them distinct from other major American styles.

She also quoted John Friend in ways that make him seem spectacularly grandiose, and she consistently framed the story as one of yoga as a business--a very big business.

My experience with Friend is limited to a large workshop, which he taught as an advanced Anusara vinyasa flow, making his way around the 100+ students and giving individual adjustments aplenty along with his assistants. It was a great class, as are so many of the Anusara classes and workshops I attend, with teachers like Shalini Latour, Irena Miller, Marni Task, Ami Hirschstein, Betsey Downing, Geri Bleier, and Todd Norian. I highly recommend all of them, and I take their classes whenever I can.

Of course, I've also wound up in some classes with Anusara-trained or -inspired teachers who use the Anusara terms as shortcuts to say something that is never made clear, and the classes wind up feeling hollow and filled with jargon. That can happen with any style.

(I've come to think that really, there are much bigger differences among yoga teachers than among yoga styles. If you're looking for a teacher who teaches like your favorite yoga teacher does, then you need to look far and wide, because taking classes in the same tradition, school or style of yoga won't always get you there. There's a LOT of divergence within one style of yoga!)

But I digress. Generally, American media report upon 1) health claims and/or documented benefits of doing yoga and 2) the commercialization of yoga in America (unusual fusions of yoga and other activities, how masses of people have quit their jobs to become yoga teachers, how many people do yoga now, how some yoga teachers have become "brands" of their own, how some teachers have tried to copyright their yoga posture sequences, etc.).

I don't blame journalists for avoiding experiential stories. How do you put into words what the regular practice of yoga feels like or how it affects the rest of your life? As soon as you do, you sound like an infomercial for Yoga, Inc., and you know you haven't even done justice to what it actually is/does! It doesn't make for a neutral and unbiased story.

My point, which I am slowly coming around to, is this: Discussions of authenticity vs. commercialization are interesting. For yoga, for music (did my favorite band "sell out"?), for the feminist movement (remember "is it feminist to wear lipstick"?), for lots of things.

But eventually, we have to be our own Charlie Brown and just go for our own spindly Christmas tree, regardless of what metal and plastic offerings are around us, bright and shiny and winking their seductive lights.

Yes, we could buy the calfskin yoga mat bag or the diamond-encrusted OM pendant. (I'm not making those up.)

Or we can joke about those who do. Or bitch about how anyone could do that to yoga, make it so obviously and excessively about image or material possessions.

Either way, we each have to come back to the spindly Christmas tree of our own yoga practice. Sometimes it feels droopy and sad, sometimes it perks up and feels strong and green and full of life...particularly when we're surrounded by those who care.

Most of the time it just IS. And the doing of the practice allows us to feel how it IS.

WE are what make our yoga practice authentic. Whether we pay for a class, practice in the yard, wear fancy togs, or throw on a T-shirt. Whether we focus on re-aligning our spine, or flowing with the breath, or what the air feels like on our skin.

I'll admit it: I've once or twice gotten myself to the mat with an intention no higher than, "I need to do this so I'll look better in the mirror." Those have not been my most inspired practices. And if that had been my intention every day, my practice would have been empty; I probably wouldn't have stuck with it very long. It's essentially a way to pump up the ego, make it believe it is a freestanding unit of body/mind, separate from everything and everyone else. That intention, to improve the individual self, can wind up separating you from others. Luckily, the techniques of yoga are designed to get you to pay close enough attention that you realize that separation is an illusion, and your intentions change as a result of what you notice (not because you force yourself to change).

When my focus is some (small or large) part of the interconnectedness of all things, that is when the practice feels authentic. That is when my body sings with feeling as I move. That is when I end with a sense that everything will be okay; no, it already is okay, and I am a part of that. I can do the right thing, because I can see more clearly.

So wear your fanciest pants or leave your pajamas on...practice with someone from India or someone from America...enjoy the silence or play Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence"...just bring yourself and your highest intention today, and the practice will flow through you, and there will be no question that it is authentic.