Monday, October 25, 2010

The Poetry of the Body: Yoga, Whitman, and American Tantra

Note: This post was originally published at Elephant Journal as 'Yoga, Spirituality, and the Body: Walt Whitman and American Tantra." 

Walt Whitman, 1855

Although the method of yoga I practice never uses the term “Tantra,” I’ve long been intrigued by those that do.

Some of my Anusara friends casually refer to themselves as “Tantrikas,” and I love the sound of it: mysterious and exotic, kinda sexy and a more than a little bit edgy.

But the scholar in me always wants to know more: What does this evocative word really mean?

I’ve been thinking about this for awhile, and reading about it on and off. Finally, I’ve come to my own, at least preliminary conclusion, which is that Tantra (speaking strictly as it’s used in the North American yoga community today) has much more to do with Walt Whitman than with Indian tradition.

That’s not to say that there’s absolutely no connection between the two. Whatever linkage there may be between Tantra in its contemporary, North American and traditional, Indian contexts, however, exists more in the realm of the mystical and the poetic than the concrete. That’s OK, though – no, it’s really much more than OK; it’s intriguing, even fascinating. Certainly, it’s where the mystery resides.

That’s probably quite cryptic, if not completely opaque . . . so let me try to explain.

Power and Transgression

Since I was interested in learning about the relationship between Tantra and Hatha yoga (and geeky by nature), reading Geoffrey Samuel's seemed like a good place to start.

Samuel – a British scholar who studies really interesting stuff like “Tibetan yogic health practices” – argues that Tantra can be traced back to a “relatively coherent set of techniques” developed in India during the 9th-10th centuries C.E. During this formative medieval period, its “key elements” included:
Elaborate deity visualizations of fierce male and particularly female deities,
Use of transgressive associated with cremation grounds and polluting substances linked to sex and death, and
“Internal” yogic practices, including sexual techniques, intended to achieve health and long life, as well as liberating insight.
“Tantric ritual,” Samuels explains, “is about powerful and dangerous forces, which must be encountered and dealt with for the good of the community. These forces can only be manipulated by specialist priests and ritualists, and even then there is still a risk that things can ‘go wrong.’” As such, Tantra has always been controversial: Many wondered “whether these practices were legitimate and appropriate, which is perhaps hardly surprising, because their position on or beyond the edge of the legitimate was intrinsic to their power.”

Hmmm. Not sounding that much like “Tantric philosophy of intrinsic goodness” described on the Anusara Yoga website, which naturally makes practitioners “nicer and more considerate” now, is it?



“Liberation is possible in the world”

Certainly, contemporary yoga teachers working with Tantra aren’t trafficking in trangressive techniques involving sex and death, or even (as far as I know) “elaborate deity visualizations.” So what are they doing?

While there’s no simple, single answer to this question, Nora Issacs identifies “non-dualism” as the “one core aspect” of Tantra consistently taught in the West. As explained in her recent Yoga Journal article, this boils down to the belief that “one’s true essence (alternatively known as the transcendental Self, pure awareness, or the Divine) exists in every particle of the universe”:
‘In Tantra, the world is not something to escape from or overcome, but rather, even the mundane or seemingly negative events in day-to-day life are actually beautiful and auspicious,’ says Pure Yoga founder Rod Stryker, a teacher in the Tantric tradition of Sri Vidya. “Rather than looking for samadhi, or liberation from the world, Tantra teaches that liberation is possible in the world.’
In keeping with non-dualism, contemporary Tantra stresses a strongly positive view of the body as a “manifestation of spirit” and potential vehicle for liberation. “’As soon as you like your body, it’s pretty much Tantric,’” Issacs quotes Anusara founder John Friend as saying. “You see the beauty and the Divine in it.’”
So what’s not Tantric?

As someone who’s been around the yoga community for years, this non-dualist, pro-body, this-worldly orientation feels very familiar. So familiar, in fact, that it pretty much describes all the schools of yoga that I’ve ever been exposed to – including ones, such as Iyengar, that claim nothing to do with the “Tantric” label whatsoever.

Yet in a recent EJ interview, John Friend claims that:
Anusara yoga is based on Shiva-Shakti Tantric philosophy, while Iyengar yoga is based essentially on Classical Yoga (Patanjali Yoga Sutra). Tantra focuses on removing the differences between the world and Spirit, while Classical Yoga tries to separate Spirit and the world.
Undoubtedly, as neither an Anusara or Iyengar practitioner (although I have done a reasonable amount of the latter), I’m getting in over my head here (and fear getting slammed by irate commentators). But, really? That doesn’t square with my experience of studying with several certified Iyengar teachers or reading books by Mr. Iyengar himself.

For example, in Iyengar writes that:
If you say you are your body, you are wrong. If you say you are not your body, you are also wrong. The truth is that although the body is born, lives, and dies, you cannot catch a glimpse of the divine except through the body.
I could give many other examples. But the point is: Can you honestly characterize any of the popular forms of yoga today as anti-body? As wanting to separate the body from spirituality? Sure, there’s a lot of “fitness yoga” that’s not interested in the spiritual side of yoga at all. But all other methods seem to have a positive orientation to the body, and to embodying spirituality in the world.

Anusara Yoga class (www.toddboston.com/Blog)

In other words, it seems to me that all of forms of yoga today (bracketing the purely fitness-oriented ones) are essentially “Tantric,” at least given the YJ definition of the term (which seems to capture the common sensibility of the North American yoga community pretty well). Yet, only particular methods, such as Anusara, describe themselves that way. Either I’m missing something here, or “Tantra” (again, speaking of it only as it’s used in the N.A. yoga community) really means something different.

The Poetry of the Body

So what is it?

It’s tempting to dismiss talk of “Tantra” as simply a marketing gimmick. But I’m not going to. Having taken a teacher training with Shiva Rea several years ago, I’ve drunk some of that (American) Tantric Kool-Aid. There was something identifiably different in that experience, which I at least felt connected to Shiva’s references to Tantra.

Now, I’m only speculating. But based on my experience, what felt identifiably “Tantric” had nothing to do with abstract theories of dualism versus non-dualism. Rather, it was practicing in a way that brought us into what might be described as the “ecstatic realm.” It’s asana worked in a way that catches a ride on a vibrant wave of joy, connection, and liberation – right in this sweat-soaked room, right on this rubber mat, right in the here and now.

I did a little online reading, and found that some of the ancient Tantric texts captured the feeling I had experienced quite well. From the Spanda Karika:
when the Tantrika becomes established in the sacred tremor of reality, he liberates the flow of manifestation and return, and in this way takes pleasure in the universal freedom, as a master of the wheel of energies.
And from the Vijnana Bhairava:
Contemplate over the undivided forms of your own body and those of the entire universe as being of an identical nature. Thus will your omnipresent being and your own form rest in unity and you will reach the very nature of consciousness . . . Feel your substance: bone, flesh and blood, saturated with cosmic essence, and know supreme bliss.
Still, based on what I’ve read about the history of Indian Tantra, I’m strongly inclined to agree with Baba Rampuri’s recent insistence that “Yoga, as practiced in the West, has nothing to do with Tantra as it is practiced in its high and low forms in India.”

The fact that I found some passages in ancient texts that spoke to me, in other words, isn’t enough to convince me that what we refer to as “Tantra” today has much to do with ancient (or even contemporary) Tantric practices in India.


Illustration from 1940 edition of Whitman's Leaves of Grass

Singing the Body Electric

On the other hand, I think that it has a lot to do with Walt Whitman.

While I’m interested in ancient Tantric texts, I’m even more fascinated by how my experience of ecstatic yoga maps onto his poetry: a man who was, after all, a visionary, mystic, and shaman of my own culture – someone whose energy I still feel resonating (although not nearly as much as I would like) in America today.

From
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,

Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,

I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,

Hoping to cease not till death.

Creeds and schools in abeyance,

Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,

I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,

Nature without check with original energy.

2

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes,

I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it,

The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless,

It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,

I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,

I am mad for it to be in contact with me.

The smoke of my own breath,

Echoes, ripples, buzz’d whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine,

My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs,

The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color’d sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,

The sound of the belch’d words of my voice loos’d to the eddies of the wind,

A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,

The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,

The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides,

The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.

Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much?

Have you practis’d so long to learn to read?

Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,

You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)

You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,

You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,

You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
 American Tantra? I, for one, say “yes.”

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Walking the Elephant Walk

I posted my first blog over at Elephant Journal – where I’m now going to be a regular columnist (!) – this morning: “Yoga, Spirituality, and the Body: Walt Whitman and American Tantra.” If you haven’t already done so, please head over to EJ and check it out!

I’ll be reposting my Elephant blogs here at Think Body Electric once they’ve had a chance to establish themselves there a bit. I’ll also keep posting things here that feel better suited for TBE, pure and simple. 

All this is a big experiment for me. Blogging still feels pretty new and strange: as recently as last winter, it’s just not something that I ever imagined myself doing.

But I’m finding that I like it. The freedom to write without constraints is liberating. I love the ability to add links, images, and videos. The multi-dimensionality of it is exciting – a whole new way to work and play with the written word.

Being able to immediately get comments from whoever out there in cyberspace happens to stumble across your blog, decide to take the time to read it, and then take the extra step of saying something about it is also interesting and energizing. On the one hand, it makes the whole enterprise feel a little dangerous – who knows who you will encounter? Will they be nice; will they be crazy; will they be safe??

On the other hand, I’ve found that blogging builds a weird sense of connection and trust. Despite all the well-merited warnings about protecting oneself against cyber-stalkers and so on, in a few short months I’ve encountered a good number of people that I feel like I’ve connected to in some genuinely meaningful way.

Even more surprising to me, I’ve even met a few of them in person – cyberspace Zapping into real-time multi-dimensional “reality”!

At any rate, because elephants on are my mind, I wanted to share this wonderful graphic of Ganesha that I found today. May we all find the strength to walk our spirit walk and navigate the inevitable obstacles on our path with beauty, truth, and grace.





Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Off the Mat Vs. the Old New Left: Subverting the Dominant Paradigm, With Love


A few evenings ago, idly wasting time on Facebook, I stumbled across a post on Elephant Journal with the provocative title, “SEANE CORN, FOUNDER OF OFF THE MAT, CHARGED WITH BEING WHITEY YUPPIE DILETTANTE BY ARMCHAIR ANTI-RACIST.” Say what? As a fan of Seane’s, as well as an ex-political science professor who used to this sounded pretty interesting.

The EJ post linked to a lengthy piece at Tikkun (read the original here) that strongly criticized the yoga service organization, Off the Mat, Into the World (OTM) as the latest incarnation of a "paternalistic, feel-good philanthropy that is rooted in 19th century Christian missionary work." Well, ouch. Them’s fighting words, even for peace-loving yogis!

True, the post’s author, Be Scofield, rather condescendingly conceded that OTM is “well-intentioned.” He insisted, however, that its work nonetheless generates “problematic issues of paternalism, ‘feel-good’ service, white U.S.-centric privilege and racism.”

Christian missionary in Africa: Courtesy of www.rethinkafrica.org
Who IS this guy?!, I wondered. I clicked over to his website and was impressed to find an interesting, diverse, and engaging arrays of links to articles, videos, podcasts, and other resources dealing with important issues of social justice, spiritual activism, and environmentalism. Regardless of his hostility to OTM, Mr. Scofield has some impressive bona fides, which made me want to take the time to read his very long post (not to mention the 62 comments (!) on it).

Soon after posting a link to the EJ article on my (which focuses on yoga-related news and information), I found out that Elephant had taken it down. I have no idea why (note: now I do - see comment from EJ, below), but it made me wonder if Be’s piece was judged as too negative to share; something that would hurt the good work OTM is doing. Personally, I don’t think this is the case – provided that it’s read critically, rather than simply defensively.

True, Be’s article is irritatingly (some might chose a stronger adjective) framed as unsolicited tutelage to OTM: I’m-going-to-explain-to-you-clueless-white-liberal-ladies-why-you’re-really-unconsciously-perpetuating-racism-and-cultural-imperialism. Well, gee, thanks a lot (not). Nonetheless, I think that we yoga types can take a deep breath, get past that, and benefit from thinking a little more into how the issues he raised square with the model of service and activism being developed by OTM and others in the yoga community.
 It’s a conversation worth having. And even if it means taking some unwarranted knocks, it’s exciting to see yoga-centered activism attracting attention outside of the yoga community. Besides, I think that old school Leftists (such as Be) actually have a lot to learn from the yoginis of OTM, who have broken out of some of the ossified paradigms that have rendered left-of-center politics unattractive, irrelevant, or unworkable for many people for many years now. Ideally, dialoging with such critics can help grow the spiritual activism movement both within the yoga community, and beyond.

The Specter of Self-Serving White Do-Goodism

The Tikkun article raises important and uncomfortable points about race, class, and privilege intersect in what’s sometimes called “volunteer tourism,” in which the lives, cultures, and even suffering of others may (but don't necessarily) function as little more than a convenient means of generating a sense of adventure, self-affirmation, and personal growth for road-tripping do-gooders.

“Corn is a white, upper class woman from the U.S. who leads women, almost all of whom are white, to Cambodia, Uganda and South Africa for service projects that are advertised as opportunities for self-discovery,” Be notes. He goes on to skewer OTM as little more than self-serving yuppie dilettantism:
Connecting activism with tourism, travel, adventure, reward and leisure is central to their project. During the Cambodia trip participants could visit the Royal Palace, National Museums, or travel in a boat along the Mekong River (and then return to their “5-star premier hotel” in Phnom Phen.) The program description captures this sense of adventure, ‘After the leadership training you have an opportunity to add one of the wonders of the world onto your journey: a trip to the historic Angkor Wat, where beautiful temples and sunrises await’ . . . Most troubling is that these emerging leaders are being taught that they can ‘expand their self-confidence and capabilities by exposing them to unique physical and spiritual challenges’ by traveling thousands of miles to ‘exotic’ foreign locations.
Framed in this way, it does sound pretty awful. And regardless of whether it’s in fact a valid critique of OTM (and I believe that it’s not), it’s important to recognize that it’s not simply mean-spirited and crazy to raise these issues. There is a long, unhappy, and all-too-often deeply shameful history of white people traveling to foreign lands in the name of “doing good,” while in reality doing nothing more than serving their own self-interest.

Yoga practitioners interested in spiritual activism definitely need to understand the historical and contemporary dynamics that fuel the concerns Be raised. Regardless of how well OTM addresses them, it’s simply true that photos such as these are going to raise issues of race, gender, class, and privilege for many people, particularly but by no means exclusively people of color:


Where one person might see an inspiring and beautiful photo, another will see yet another white woman affirming herself at the expense of the full autonomy, equality, recognition, and respect of people of color.

This doesn’t mean that such photos shouldn’t be taken and shared, or that the work shouldn’t be done. It’s simply acknowledging that this is the history we’ve inherited, the world that we’re born into.

Regardless of how good or aware OTM and similar organizations may be, some people are going to question the motives of white American women working with Black African children. That’s OK; that’s understandable. More than that: To protect against continued abuses, whether intentional or unconscious, it’s important.

I believe, however, that OTM recognizes these issues and deals with them. I think, however, that Be doesn’t recognize this because they're doing so in a very different way than he thinks is legitimate.

You Say You Want a

Be’s post raises crucial concerns about race, class, and the legacy of colonialism. Conceptually, however, it’s framed in terms of standard Leftist assumptions that I find neither practical nor compelling.

Be’s writing reflects two crucial assumptions:
1. All forms of oppression – whether based on race, class, gender, sexual preference, or whatever – are rooted in a monolithic “system” that needs to be attacked and, ideally, destroyed. Meaningful social change is impossible without cutting the systemic roots of oppression.
2. Because the world is divided between oppressor and oppressed, individuals in the former camp face enormous challenges if they want to help those in the latter – structurally, they are simply in the wrong position to do so.

    “Taking the best of what is taught on the yoga mat off into the world,” Be writes, “isn’t enough to create just and sustainable communities for social change.”
    Nor is meditation or a personal spiritual practice. Why not? Because yoga or meditation do not teach about how power functions to maintain oppressive systems such as racism, cultural imperialism, and patriarchy . . . Knowing how these systems operate is important for the emerging spiritual activism movement to understand.
    Well, yes, sort of, but . . . unfortunately, it’s just not that easy. There are many, many ways in which human beings create and maintain social arrangements that hurt, exploit, and oppress each other. Of course, it’s important to educate ourselves about the ones that we’re enmeshed in as best we can.
    But there is no simple, singular way of understanding “how these systems operate” – the world is much too complex. They don’t all tie neatly into one, monolithic “system” of oppression. To reference John Lennon again (after all, it was just his 70th birthday) that dream is over. The Leftist belief that positive social change will be automatically unleashed simply by smashing “the System” has been tried and it’s failed repeatedly, often with disastrous results. There is no magic bullet.

    Self-Identifying as “Racist”

    Be is absolutely right in insisting that those of us fortunate enough to be born into relative wealth and freedom should work to be aware of our social position. He’s also right that most whites unconsciously harbor problematic racial attitudes that need to be identified and critiqued.

    But his way of addressing this seems to be to insist that white activists continually lambaste themselves as “racists” – a self-flagellating move that I don’t find at all helpful. “I made it clear that as a white, middle, class male, I am no less racist than Seane Corn,” he wrote, as if this were some sort of badge of honor.

    Why, one might wonder, should people working actively to heal racial divisions and promote social justice self-identity as “racist”? Be explains that:
    individual instances of oppression — whether they are racist, sexist or homophobic statements, acts, or thoughts — are to be expected even amongst the most passionate advocates for social justice. Why? Again because in the U.S., we live in a racist, sexist, classist and homophobic culture . . . Thus anything that I do as a white middle class male, including activism, is tainted by the dominant narratives, privileges and beliefs that have shaped American and Western cultures.
    Well, yes, we all experience negative thoughts – about others, about ourselves – that are connected to social position, pressures, and prejudices. But transforming that negativity with compassion is much more fruitful than violently attacking it via name-calling and self-flagellation.

    Besides, demanding that all whites interested in spiritual activism denounce themselves as “racists” is not going to help the cause. On the contrary, most will feel confused and scared, and want to stay far, far away.

    Connection and Compassion

    I believe that OTM offers a much more compelling and practical way of confronting the very real issues of race and class division that Be raised in his post. (Note: While I haven’t taken their training myself and don’t claim expertise on it, I say this based on what’s available in the comments to Be’s post, the links it provides, and talking to several friends about their OTM experience.)

    As Seane Corn explains, OTM’s “first step” is “to invite people to allow the inner work that yoga inspires to be translated into interacting with the world with greater awareness.” Once these internal resources are tapped, the “second step” of engaging participants in “a deep dialogue and education about charity vs. social justice, and some of the larger issues surrounding activism, power structures, non- profit work, and race” begins. Very much in line with Be’s core concerns, “a strong feminist, cultural diversity and power dynamics framework” informs OTM’s intensives and trainings.

    OTM’s approach, Seane explains, “is to make sure our participants have the inner tools first so that the complex and confronting conversation about some of these core issues do not become paralyzing.” Rather than guilt-tripping, this approach builds spiritual strength, creating the space in which difficult issues can be confronted and processed with compassion and integrity.

    In this paradigm, cultivating internal compassion and discernment lays the necessary foundation for effective service to others. As Seane explains on her blog reporting on OTM’s trip to Uganda on Oprah.com:
    For this experience to be sustainable and deeply meaningful, it is essential that we spend time every day connecting to our bodies, breath, each other and God. By invoking the sacred, we can be reminded of what our purpose here is, beyond the obvious, which is the service work we'll do in the field. Through grace, we can remember that we are all connected, all one, and are here dignify the human experience, as it is, with love. Not with judgment or pity, which only perpetuates separation, but with understanding and empathy, qualities that unite.
    I suspect that this approach may seem horribly touchy-feely to a good, old-fashioned, hard-headed Leftist. Or maybe I'm just projecting: I have to admit, there's a part of me that frequently feels impatient (if not worse) with the mainstream North American yoga community's culture of pretty, pastel, feel-good niceness. It can feel way too safe and superficial to take on the difficult realities of the world in any meaningful way.

    But I don't put Seane Corn in that camp. On the contrary. This cover-girl beauty isn't coaching us on using yoga for weight loss or to make our skin glow. Rather, she's teaching us about how we can find meaning and inspiration even in the most challenging circumstances, and modeling this by working with such heart-breaking populations as children living in Cambodian garbage dumps.

    Plus, all of my personal experience with left-of-center politics - as well as just living in general - makes me very much agree with Seane’s observation that the internal work that OTM teaches is crucial:
    Over the years, I have met many activists who have had this same need to change or fix intolerable circumstances, but also an unwillingness to look at their own issues, including what might be the motivating factors that are inspiring their interests . . . I've seen great and committed activists burn out as a result of their own need to fight. I've watched them blame, project, rage, insult, be arrogant, act superior, not listen or take responsibility. None of those behaviors create the necessary change, only more separation. 
    Partners and Projects

    Finally (I know, this post is getting to be too long!), I think that OTM’s emphasis on working on good projects with local partners is a refreshingly practical alternative to trying to smash “the System.” (Notably, OTM also supports service projects in locations other than the ones discussed here, including the U.S.) We may not be able to magically transform the world, but we can connect with others to create positive, meaningful change.

    As co-founder Suzanne Sterling explains, OTM is “very careful not to simply come into a culture with an arrogant assumption about what is needed to make a situation more stable and self sustaining”:
    we consciously work with organizations that are in deep, long term dialogue and interaction with the communities involved in the projects that we are supporting. We do not just come in for a few weeks of work and then leave chaos in our wake. We are funding long-term projects, buildings and training programs that are co-created with the local communities and we have continuing support programs for the projects that we initiate.
    “Last year,” Seane notes, “we raised $524,000 to benefit the Cambodian Children's Fund. This year, we raised $566,000 for Uganda. Next year, I'm hopeful we will raise even more when we head to Cape Town, South Africa, to support our partners there."

    Effectively spent, that’s not chump change. And coupled with meaningful, emphatic, international, multicultural, and interracial exchange, who knows what the ripple effects may be?

    Faith, Movement, and Grace

    It’s spiritual activism, and so beyond counting up the money and projects, I also have faith that grace may be at play. And not just with OTM. When we look honestly at the pain and brokenness in our selves and our world, working for healing and wholeness requires some leap of faith.

    Harnessed to spiritual activism, asana practice can be a tremendous resource in this regard: Again and again, we practice taking a deep breath, quieting our mental chatter, tapping our intuition, opening our hearts, and moving – sometimes to fall, sometimes to find the strength to get up and try again, and sometimes to experience Amazing Grace.

    Tuesday, October 5, 2010

    Rock & Roll Yoga

    I was in some store the other day and this old Velvet Underground song came on the radio:
    Jeannie said when she was just five years old
    There was nothing happening at all
    Every time she puts on the radio
    there was nothing going down at all
    not at all

    Then one fine morning she puts on a New York station
    You know she couldn’t believe what she heard at all
    She started shaking to that fine fine music
    You know her life was saved by rock & roll

    Despite all the amputations
    you know you could just go out and dance
    to the rock & roll station
    And it was all right



    The lyrics are sooo innocuous; and 40 years later, they seem almost embarrassingly so. But when Lou Reed sings in that gravelly NYC been-around-the-block-to-places-you-are-too-straight-to-even-dream-of voice it lifts the whole thing up (at least for me) into the realm of pop culture poetry. An early ‘70s post-modern shaman, semi-ironically, semi-sincerely channeling the history of this strange magic that broke us – us being body-repressed white youth, I guess – out of our amputation to dance into – into what?

    Aha, well, yes. There’s the rub. Because the liberation rock and roll offered was always double-edged at best. The vision of freedom was unbounded, intoxicating but not infrequently deadly. Certainly the Velvet Underground was hip to the dark sex-drugs-and-death dimensions of that scene; that was their whole thing, they celebrated it.

    I was still very very young when this song came out, but I’m old enough to get a sense of the historical moment that it references, when hearing a rock & roll song transmitted from New York to whatever boondocks you were in could break you free and change your life.

    And while that world has been completely swept away, I think that with all of the pressures to conform and compete today, with the generic corporate dominance of the human landscape and the concomitant eclipse of nature, it still speaks to the desire to break out of the box, to dance, to connect viscerally to the body, to experience freedom.

    Shot of Prana

    I’ve felt this deep connection between yoga and rock & roll for awhile now.

    It took some years for it to develop. Certainly, I had no sense of it back when I started my first yoga class, which I vaguely imagined as a nice way of adding some stretching to my “real” workout. But with time – and particularly after studying with some of the more rocked out and/or shamanistic teachers like Ana Forrest, Julian Walker, and – it’s become a feeling that I’ve re-experienced regularly.

    The connection between yoga and rock & roll is that jolt of prana that comes from feeling fully embodied; from experiencing the deep pleasure that comes from moving, loosening, and maybe sometimes even breaking the bonds that keep us feeling small, restricted, repressed.

    Freedom to Dance

    Back when I was in elementary school, I used to watch the Black girls in my grade go out on the playground and practice their dance routines; synchronized, polished, super-cool. I wasn’t growing up feeling any of that dance energy in my household, which embodied a typically white, WASP-y, striving to be upper-middle-class sense of physical repression (except when we periodically blew up from overloads of stress and anger).

    At the time, I couldn’t do what those girls were doing, but it was easy for me to see that there was something important, something valuable going on there.


    It wasn’t until I was in high school that I finally said, fuck it, I’m not going to stay locked in these boundaries any more. I discovered Patti Smith and saw a female rock & roll model that embodied art, poetry, freedom. I started going to rock & roll shows; I started to dance.

    Although that first shift to a sense of physical freedom occurred decades ago, I still remember it clearly. It was important.

    And I see other people still needing the same thing. Just last year, I went to a yoga retreat at Esalen that went beyond asana to include free movement and ecstatic dance. I talked to several workshop participants who had never moved so freely before in their lives.

    When I said that it brought me back to high school, they looked at me incredulously. They hadn’t been post-hippie rock & roll chicks, they had never known how transformative it is to move freely. Asana put them on a path where they finally felt free enough to dance, for the first time in their lives.

    For many people in this culture, experiencing such a sense of embodied freedom remains a revelation. “Her life was saved by rock & roll.”

    The Paradox of Workable Freedom: Boundaries, Discipline, Practice

    But the freedom of rock & roll is unrooted. Even if it doesn’t embrace nihilism (which of course much of it does), it slides easily into dissolution (think of all those nice happy Deadheads burning their brains out on acid). 

    Yoga offers the experience of embodied freedom in a way that leads to health and wholeness, rather than dissolution, fragmentation, and, at worst, the kind of death that’s full of waste and tragedy.

    It’s not that I no longer love rock & roll; I still do. But I have come to believe that it’s a truism that without any boundaries, any center, anything to root and ground us, freedom becomes a destructive energy, spiraling out of control.

    Paradoxically, the discipline of asana – postures, alignment, the marriage of movement, focus, and breath – enables a deeper and infinitely more sustainable sense of embodied freedom than the unboundedness of rock & roll. And, when asana is embedded in a full life practice that includes ethics and spirituality, yoga becomes a path to true freedom, loosening the bonds of ignorance, fear, and negative thought and emotion that keep us from living an increasingly liberated life.

    Syncretism and the Evolutionary Zeitgeist

    Still, in the best of our crazy North American yoga culture, I believe that we can experience a marriage of the energies of yoga and rock & roll in a way that enhances both.

    Rock & roll is one of the vital energies of our time. Conceptualizing it more broadly, it’s very much embedded in the long-standing Western project of tearing down the social, cultural, and material barriers to individual freedom. Coming out of the mixing of European and African music and culture, it’s also a product of the radical syncretism of modern/post-modern life.

    John Lennon and Chuck Berry
    Yoga is in many ways the same. An ancient Indian practice, a modern 20th century re-invention (read , more on that later), a contemporary North American phenom – yoga is nothing if not multicultural, and at its best, magically syncretic.

    Putting the two together – whether literally by combining asana and dance, or abstractly, by connecting energetic experiences in our lives – the relationship between yoga and rock & roll is part of the spirit of the time; a Zeitgeist to further explore and develop.
    Newer Posts Older Posts Home
    Subscribe to: