Vol 7: Yogic Reluctance: Stiffness, Sanity and Flatulence
“I’d love to try yoga”, said one of my middle-aged male friends, “but it’s all the shit that goes with it”. Now despite the title of my blog, I actually love the practice of yoga. A more accurate title might have been The Reluctant Member of the Wellness Industry but that doesn’t have the same ring to it. Over the years I’ve heard a lot of reasons for not practicing yoga but it pretty much boils down to three things. I’m too stiff. I’ll make a fool of myself. And it’s all the shit that goes with it. If I were a marketing expert, I’d say yoga has an image problem because none of this aversion should exist. So, to dispel some of the misconceptions, allay some of the fears, and convince you that yoga won’t turn you into Gwyneth Paltrow, here’s my take on the top three reasons for yogic reluctance.
1/ I’m not flexible enough.
Yoga is not acrobatics, although you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise. If your interest lies in becoming a contortionist you’d be better joining a circus. The true essence of yoga – an internal deep dive to the very core of your being – doesn’t photograph well. But what does are lithe women in Lycra standing on their heads in sand while doing the splits. In a society where image sells, there is little wonder that yoga is now portrayed as a cross between gymnastics, weight loss, and travel documentary (with a side order of conspiracy theory).
I’ll let you in on a secret – a lot of the super bendy yogis on Instagram are ex dancers. Not all, but more than you’d think. Yoga is an easy fit for dancers and a lot come to it as a way of repairing their bodies. Most dancers will happily admit that dance training has taken its toll on their body. One of my ex-dancer yoga teacher friends regularly went to sleep as a child with alternate feet tucked under the headboard – yes you read that right – effectively breaking her hip joints over time. She can still wrap her legs behind her head, but has trouble now walking any distance.
We all have different skeletal structure with varying degrees of joint mobility. A simple test, courtesy of Tom Myers (Anatomy Trains), is to grab your thumb on either hand and pull it towards your wrist. Some people easily get their thumb tip to the wrist – Tom Myers calls them Temple Dancers. They are super bendy but might struggle with joint stability. Others, myself included, can’t get their thumb anywhere near their wrist. We’re the Vikings – short of breaking our joints, we’re unlikely to ever be called limber. But what we lose in flexibility we make up for in strength and stability. When I was a child I wanted to be a ballet dancer but, in an early experience of reality checking, my teacher told me I had the build for a male dancer but unfortunately not for a danseuse. I took up tennis instead and discovered that I’m very good at hitting things hard. My point is that yoga postures are ultimately all about developing strength & flexibility. The temple dancers just look better on Instagram.
In truth the actual point of the yoga exercises is to allow you to sit in meditation comfortably. Asana, the yoga word for posture, means seated – the original exercises were never intended as keep fit (we have Swedish gymnastics and the British Empire to thank for that). The goal of a yoga practice is not to do the splits or even to touch your toes, it’s to get you to the point of being able to sit comfortably long enough to meditate. (In fact, the true star of yoga is breath – so technically if you can sit and breathe you can do yoga). If you’re taking yoga classes to perform party tricks, perhaps you need to take a long hard look at what drives you. That could be your first proper yoga lesson.
2/ I’ll embarrass myself in class
We’ve all been here. First off, yoga is not competitive. There will be people in the class (and this might include the teacher) who are very competitive but that’s their problem. You will get far more out of yoga if you don’t give a monkeys about what everyone else looks like. As critical as I am of Yogi Bhajan’s Kundalini, this is one thing it does very well. Most of Kundalini Yoga is done with the eyes closed. The teacher, moreover, does not physically adjust anyone, nor name anybody during the class. Everything is done via verbal cues. This removes all distractions and self-consciousness and allows the student to really feel what’s going on in their body. For this reason also avoid classes that have mirrors at all costs.
Passing wind is potential source of embarrassment. Yes, it happens a lot because it’s completely natural. People will giggle, that’s a given, but rest assured they are also working hard to control their own flatulence. Don’t eat a big meal before you practice (allow at least 2 hours) and avoid the stuff that generally gives you gas. And if you do fart, then own it – give a little high five or fist pump. The yoga is working! I had a lovely elderly lady in my class once who would fart with wild abandon and laugh joyfully as she did so. And if that’s not for you, work muted online and blame the dog.
Fear of falling asleep in class is another block. Or rather the fear of snoring. I can tell you from the point of view of a teacher, that this is a compliment. I always feel like I’ve done my job if I have relaxed someone to the point that they feel comfortable enough to fall asleep (during Savasana, of course, otherwise I have bored them which isn’t so cool). As a breath coach I can’t advocate snoring, but, as a 50 something woman, well, it happens. Even yoga teachers aren’t immune. I once paid a lot of money to attend a Yoga Nidra teacher training - yoga sleep to all intents and purposes. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I slept for two days and didn’t learn anything. Handily, the tutors anticipated this and recorded everything so we could play it back afterwards. The fatal flaw in this plan was that you couldn’t hear the tutor over the snoring, and, my husband, who has more experience of my Welsh coal miner snoring than anyone else, identified me as one of the leading lights.
Sleeping in class happens, especially if you’re sleep deprived. One day you will have caught up on your sleep and then you’ll be able to ride the wave between waking and sleep that is Yoga Nidra. But until then embrace your snoring and don’t let this stop you practicing yoga. Your yoga practice will actually help in the long run. Work online if it’s a big issue for you (but set an alarm clock for the end of the class – you’ll be surprised how many people sleep on). If it’s meditation that makes you nod off, then I will share a secret given to me by the wonderful Italian teacher Andrea Boni. “Espresso, darling”. Ingest twenty minutes before you start to meditate, it will keep you focused and calm just long enough before the jitters set in.
3/ Yoga is a religion
No. Well, it can be taught as such depending on the teacher. But ultimately yoga is secular. It has been tied into Hinduism (and Sikhism by Yogi Bhajan) but its roots remain in self-exploration. The early yogis eschewed organised religions and undertook their own self enquiry into the nature of body, self, consciousness, life itself. It’s a self-empowerment practice and hence often distrusted by the establishment, as it gives knowledge to the individual, rather than a top-down blind acceptance of laws and rules. My classes have Catholics practicing comfortably alongside atheist physicists. They learn about their body, their patterning and sometimes about the nature of society and life. Yoga doesn’t tell them what to believe but rather helps them explore their existing beliefs.
Some classes include chanting. You don’t have to participate but sound is very healing; there is a release of charge that happens during chanting, and it also stimulates the relaxed part of the nervous system. So don’t reject it completely. But I know there is a real fear amongst some people about chanting words they don’t understand, as though it might conjure up a demon with three heads. I must admit I have never seen that happen. Most of the words used have more to do with frequency than meaning. They are designed to alter your vibration, man. But if you’re not comfortable then why not make up your own words as I sometimes do (see Volume 5)?
The language of yoga is ancient and that can sometimes make yoga seem out there and religious. The early yogis didn’t have science to explain what they felt, so they called it things like chakras, prana, and nadis. Science and yoga are starting to intersect – as more research is done into these practices, so the language starts to have more modern relevance. So, keep an open mind – yoga is about experience not what you’re told. Chakras will be mentioned – don’t balk, explore. Maybe they don’t exist. Or maybe they do. Maybe they’re portals to Atlantis or perhaps nerve plexuses in the fascia. Who knows, but while you’re exploring, you’ll develop your interoception skills which we now know is a key component of good health, both physical and mental.
Yoga these days is full of affectation that makes it seem like a cult. On entering a yoga class it is not unusual to be greeted by “Namaste” followed by a bow, hands in prayer pose. There is nothing in the ancient texts about this sort of behaviour; it’s not a requirement of the practice. It’s okay to just say “hi” if you feel awkward and change the subject to the weather or Brexit, as I often do when I’m flustered. You don’t need to dress up like a wizard to do yoga nor do you need to pretend to be an empath, anti-vaxxer or QAnon follower. And it’s okay to forgo the cacao ceremony after the class and have a glass of wine and a bag of crisps instead. If you find yourself wearing Lululemon, drinking only Matcha and looking strangely at Bill Gates after a month of practice, take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror. Slow steady progress is key, not a sanity transplant.
To be Yogi is to face the truth and choose.
Yoga is a wonderful practice that has something for everyone. Don’t be put off by the images you see on social media or the crazy that sometimes goes with it. Decide your start point whether that’s to stretch your hamstrings, learn to relax, or explore inner space, and then choose your class and teacher wisely. Email the teacher and ask some questions. Check out their website and social media. Are they wearing a turban? Are they contorting? Do they quote Piers Corbyn? Check out the class, try two or three of them, and if it’s not for you, move on. I used to get really offended when I first started teaching if someone went to another class. But I’m not for everyone. In fact, in trying to please everyone, I’d lose the essence of what I’m all about. Yes, the teacher will probably feel bad if you leave (unless they’re spiritually bypassing, in which case they’ll suppress it with love & light and let it out in about 10 years when they finally flip out) but they’ll get over it, and someone else will come along to fill the gap.
Yoga has proliferated over the last decade or so. There quite literally is now something for everyone from restorative classes where you lie around on cushions to gym keep-fit style yoga classes. You can do yoga to Beyonce. You can practice in a sauna or in the freezing cold. You can even practice with goats if that’s your thing. If you fancy it, then start, anywhere, and see where it takes you. Yoga is a rabbit hole for it’s an exploration of life itself. What starts out as a desire to strengthen your core may well end up with a mind-blowing experience of the cosmos. And you’ll gather some great stories about some really weird shit along the way.