Short post today because I do not want to give in too fully to this anger that is boiling in my belly, that is making my scalp tingle, that is making me make some very. ugly. faces.
You all know that I tend toward the "it's all good" argument in terms of types of yoga, and I still feel that way.
We have no idea what another person is getting out of anything, much less their yoga, regardless of where or what or how.
Furthermore, some people get their "union with the universal/divine" experience from running or from soccer or from...whatever. It's not ours to judge.
But as teachers of yoga or dance or movement of whatever system we are utilizing to help people come to a deeper understanding of their own capacity for joy and peace, we bear a burden. We are to be held to higher standards. We should be held to higher standards by our own hearts, but there are lesser evolved humans in every sphere of human action.
And the lure of celebrity status is not known to attract the most...selfless among us.
I am particularly angry, though, about this current yoga "scandal," because it is being perpetrated by a woman against other women. A woman who calls herself a yogi, at that.
Do not buy Tara Stiles' new yoga weight loss book.
The advertising is base, classless, and cruel.
Thanks, Tara, for setting unrealistic and unhealthy goals for the women who look up to you. Thanks, Tara, for contributing to women's self-loathing. May your namesake Hindu Goddess bring you the wisdom you desperately need to use your privileged platform for good rather than self gain.
(Though if you need more, you can read Linda or Svasti, both of whom are covering this debacle wisely.)
Instead of wasting any money on that book, go out and take a class with a rockin', local teacher, or purchase some excellent music and dance in your living room.
It is never too late to embody your bliss, as I like to say, and that means swayin' those hips and lovin' that booty, until a smile is inevitable and self-hate is impossible.