As we all shuffle and shift to re-position ourselves on a planet spiralling out of orbit, I feel to let go the reins. To trust life, like I used to, when inner technology was still a thing, and magnetism was real. Life unfurled in mysterious moments, weaved on a garland of serendipitous synchronicities, without mobile phones or laptops.
I pause here to question if this urge to let go is a genuine strategy to face reality, or just a habitual escape. I have a history of trying to avoid difficult situations, yet somehow difficult situations always find me. How else would I grow?
I recall the introspective angst of my first Yoga class in 1995, when I swear the Sivananda teacher could see that I had been tripping on acid over the weekend. The emerging techno scene in Cape Town captured my attention, while I was immersed in Freudian and Jungian ideas at university. Seeking a way out of my conservative christian upbringing, I desperately yearned for a guru, a shaman, a drug, or any shortcut to transcend the depression and low self esteem that tormented my existence. I wanted insight into the unknown realms of my psyche, to become unstuck from societal norms.
Holy cow, I found some interesting shocks and knocks along the way. When you are vulnerable, you attract vultures looking for prey. The spiritual world is full of well-meaning manipulators. A single stay at an ashram in India can reveal a kaleidoscope of light and dark rays, reflected in pumping pop studios all over the West.
My raw heartbeat, my fleshy body, my provocative thoughts, have been suppressed by one gurufic authority after another. I’ve tried on too many ‘one size fits all’ formulas to count, in an effort to fix what has never been broken. And yet, the question of freedom remains. Am I trying to escape, or face reality as it truly is?
In ancient India, Shramanic explorers left society and indoctrinatory religions, in favour of a path to freedom, through direct experience. Tried and tested Yoga tools have been passed on to us along lineages, from the time of the Buddha and Patanjali. Yoga teachers whom have experienced this un-gated freedom, are helpful guides. But ultimately Yoga is an individual path, and can only be realised from within. Even when we are on a grounded transformational journey, things can falter. Wherever people gather, there are politics.
A pivot in my search for meaning came in 1999 when I found BKS Iyengar’s book ‘Light on Yoga’ in a tiny bookshop in Polzeath. The philosophy section of the book awakened such inspiration to change my life that I started a daily self-practice routine, on the concrete floor of an ablution block in the caravan park where I was staying. No sticky mat, just proper passion. A decade later I got to touch the feet of Guruji at the Institute in Pune. A huge milestone. Tears in my eyes, softened by his smile.
Controversially, in the same year I also secretly travelled to Mysore, to deepen my Ashtanga Yoga practice. I had clearly found my path to freedom, yet for many years my Yoga repertoire was over-shadowed by fear and guilt. It was (and still is, in some circles) taboo for Yoga students to openly practice both Ashtanga and Iyengar Yoga. Yet I am so perplexed as to why? Both of these seemingly opposite Yoga styles originate from the same Krishnamacharya lineage, and perfectly expose each other’s blind spots.
Little did I imagine back then, that Yoga would pop into a jelly tot array of styles, and become a multi-billion dollar global industry. As traditional Yoga politics subside, but confusion and competition amplifies, I am sincerely grateful for the obscure, old-skool, eclectic Yoga experiences I had while growing up.
My awkward shyness is still with me. I prefer introverting in my cave, but as a career Yoga teacher I have to show up in public. And this is my practice now, to re-integrate back into society. Learning to stay when challenging emotions arise, not running away when difficult situations confront me. And responsibly Yin myself into union with the infinite source of life, while keeping one foot firmly on the ground. Objectively observing the unfolding and enfolding of reality, on this planet, in this galaxy, in this universe, that is ever expanding.
