Talk
Like A Yogi: a glossary
One Thursday morning about a year and a half ago, my alarm
went off at the usual 8:45 am. I pulled myself out of a dream,
in which my roommate was serving me orange juice in bed, and
scanned my being. I hadn't managed to take out my contacts
before falling asleep, so my eyes were gooey. I felt both
bloated and ravenous. My back and hamstrings recoiled at the
thought of getting up. A typical hangover scenario, right?
If only. Pathetically, I'd had only three beers the night
before. Three! Three beers used to be an hors d'oeuvre,
a Jägermeister back, a prelude to going out. My inner
nag was having a field day. "You're going to die of cancer
or a liver disease. Better buy some of that Clinique clarifying
makeup. Remember when you used to wake up and go rock climbing?"
I was washed up at age 25.
Like a 49-year-old man who buys a Porsche Boxster, I felt
a desperate need to do something drastic. But what? Vow
never to drink on weeknights? Not an option. Seek religion?
Sort of. But instead of finding God, I got a guru.
I had no idea I was taking the first step in assuaging
my rock-and-roll lifestyle when two co-workers persuaded
me to attend a Bikram yoga class in March 1998. There was
no chanting (thank God!) or forced meditation, just 90 minutes
of non-stop exercise in 100-degree heat. My body was so
exhausted I couldn't even drive myself home. That night,
I was in bed by 8:30.
I never made a conscious decision to do yoga every day,
but within a week my work and social schedules were contingent
on whether I went to the 9 am or 4:30 pm class. It wasn't
that I felt like going into the sweaty, mirrored studio
every day; it was just that days I did yoga were radically
better than days I didn't.
By June, I was toned and motivated. Friendships felt more
exciting, and talking to my family was suddenly much easier.
I was so inspired by my change in attitude and physique
that I decided to go with the mid-20s crisis thing. I quit
my job, loaded my car with unitards and drove to Los Angeles
to study yoga for three months under the tutelage of Bikram
Choudhury himself.
Choudhury, who left Bombay for Beverly Hills in 1970, is
one of the world's few living yoga masters. He keeps his
huge yoga studio heated to 110 degrees. "Yoga is like welding;
you have to melt down the body before you can change its
form," he's fond of saying. The three-month teacher-training
program includes three to seven hours of physical practice
each day, along with countless lectures on anatomy, physiology,
nutrition and Indian philosophy. As I sweated my way through
the training (sometimes losing up to 6 pounds of water weight
in a day), I was often taking class next to Raquel
Welch, Hugh Hefner, Victoria's Secret models and half
the cast from Ally McBeal. Once I saw Charlie Sheen
outside the studio, but he decided not to come in.
Meanwhile, every magazine I picked up had a profile on
Woody Harrelson's new oxygen bar/yoga space or a gossip
bit about Reese Witherspoon and Cindy Crawford bonding during
their pregnancy yoga class. I hadn't been this enmeshed
in a trend since sticker-collecting in grade school. I knew
my own reasons for discovering yoga, but why was the rest
of the world discovering it at the same time? Why now?
Swami Paramhansa
Yogananda was the first to bring yoga to America. India's
most beloved guru sold out Los Angeles' Philharmonic Auditorium
in January 1925. His message was simple: Yoga is the union
of mind, body and spirit, a physical and mental practice
designed to integrate all aspects of life. The audience
was receptive, and dozens of yoga schools soon were founded.
But the Great Depression and World War II left Yogananda's
message out on the back porch. After the war, society became
increasingly compartmentalized. Work life and home life
were neatly separated by a cocktail. Racial segregation
endured. Male and female roles hadn't been so clearly defined
since colonial times. Yoga didn't return to the radar screen
until the word "hippie" entered our national lexicon and
the boxed lives of the '50s were recycled into a mess of
new culture. Thinkers embraced holistic living, and yoga
was revived as a tangible piece in the quest for peaceable
living.
But that '60s vision of harmony was annihilated by the
time Thriller hit the airwaves. Spiritual and physical
union had no place in the Reagan decade, which was at once
rigid and hedonistic. Exercise was about working out. Period.
Treadmills, stair climbers and aerobics classes delivered
burn, not balm.
So it is that as we race through the '90s (in Pumas straight
out of '68), there is a sense of kookiness and cohesion
that's been missing for the past 25 years. While the New
Age movement could easily be dismissed as overwrought and
silly, it has rekindled valuable concepts. Not everyone
has embraced crystal therapy, Pilates and green tea, but
the quest for self-improvement has generally segued from
punishment and denial to pleasure and fulfillment. The "No
pain, no gain" sentiment has been banished to the same drawer
as yesterday's purple leg warmers. Today, the goal of exercise
is not a hard body but a sound body and psyche. Yoga delivers,
detoxifying the body from the inside out and releasing tension
from muscles and the mind. Exercises such as running and
weight-lifting tighten and shorten muscles, concentrating
on specific parts of the body. Yoga opens the door, releasing
emotions and allowing each cell, gland, organ and muscle
to work in unison.
Health, as a pursuit, is awfully intimidating. The pressure
to exercise, eat sensibly, limit alcohol, take vitamins
and wear sunscreen often keeps us mired in familiar routines.
Yoga helps relieve that pressure. On the first day of training,
Choudhury told us not to worry about quitting bad habits.
Instead of subtracting, he said, just add yoga. So I kept
going about my life the same way--only practicing yoga five
times a week.
After nine months of working as an instructor, I have achieved
a balance. I am physically empowered and mentally tough.
Courtney Love, who practices Kundalini yoga, admits in interviews
to occasional indulgence but claims that yoga prevents her
from being a drug addict. I, too, have curbed some vices
and learned to be still and happily alone. Even better,
"You suck" isn't the first thing I hear every morning. With
yoga on my side, I might just make it to 30.
Talk
Like A
Yogi
ASANAS
physical yoga postures
PRANAYAMA
the science of breath control
SAVASANA
also called "corpse pose"; the classic relaxation
pose in yoga, performed by lying on your back, palms facing
up and breathing deeply through the nose and abdomen
HATHA YOGA
any type of yoga that includes asanas
(physical practice as opposed to meditation or chanting)
ASHTANGA YOGA
a series of hatha postures performed
in a flow without rests (sometimes called power yoga)
KUNDALINI
the supreme cosmic energy that resides
in every being and can become awakened through yoga practice
CHAKRAS
the seven points of energy in everyone. Kundalini
energy passes through these chakras, producing different
states of consciousness.
NAMASTE
yoga greeting; means "May my God be with
your God."
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Willamette Week | originally
published October 27,
1999
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