What’s that sound in the distance? Chanting. I searched in the birthplace…
What’s that sound in the distance? Chanting.
I searched in the birthplace of Ashtanga Yoga in order to discover its most potent form, and what I found made a mess of my sensibilities. I chanted with esteemed professors of the Sanskrit college whilst banana leaves were scanned into computers for posterity. I listened to casual talk about the infinite with men who devoted their lives to the study. And i practiced under the looming and smiling visage of a now disgraced Brahmin “master” who died before I came to the fertile soil of Mysore.
What for? For an understanding of yoga, and then later for an accreditation to teach just that. The laugh of it all is that my ranking inside of the authorizing organization has been based on physical accomplishment, not my pedagogical ones.
This makes some sense when you consider the selection process... how often you turn up for practice and how deep down the syllabus you are able to dive. Progression by attrition— can you outlast the impetus to turn away.
I could.
But now, on the other side of having received “the gurus” blessing to teach, i wonder about its value. The heirarchical nature of the guru-shishya model leads to some concerns on my end. I don’t have a problem with heirarchy... i have a problem with blind faith and abuse.
For example, was i too fat? The “guru” had certainly told me to stop eating so much if i wanted to make an asana happen. I had been eating my feelings more than the rice for months at that point. No. Thank you.
I don’t have a stomach for the “vande gurunam” any longer because it’s this kind of encouraged prostration to authority that leads to the police being quietly ushered away from world tours of retired Sanskrit scholars, young woman being taken out of shalas in stretchers, and gay boys having dormant eating disorders stoked.
As director of @dcashtanga i still encourage chanting— but the chants we chant are older than the dirt of mysore’s palace. I still encourage practice in its most raw form— contemplation, breath, movement, and stillness— and I trust that the practice will become self evident of its excellence.
I searched in the birthplace of Ashtanga Yoga in order to discover its most potent form, and what I found made a mess of my sensibilities. I chanted with esteemed professors of the Sanskrit college whilst banana leaves were scanned into computers for posterity. I listened to casual talk about the infinite with men who devoted their lives to the study. And i practiced under the looming and smiling visage of a now disgraced Brahmin “master” who died before I came to the fertile soil of Mysore.
What for? For an understanding of yoga, and then later for an accreditation to teach just that. The laugh of it all is that my ranking inside of the authorizing organization has been based on physical accomplishment, not my pedagogical ones.
This makes some sense when you consider the selection process... how often you turn up for practice and how deep down the syllabus you are able to dive. Progression by attrition— can you outlast the impetus to turn away.
I could.
But now, on the other side of having received “the gurus” blessing to teach, i wonder about its value. The heirarchical nature of the guru-shishya model leads to some concerns on my end. I don’t have a problem with heirarchy... i have a problem with blind faith and abuse.
For example, was i too fat? The “guru” had certainly told me to stop eating so much if i wanted to make an asana happen. I had been eating my feelings more than the rice for months at that point. No. Thank you.
I don’t have a stomach for the “vande gurunam” any longer because it’s this kind of encouraged prostration to authority that leads to the police being quietly ushered away from world tours of retired Sanskrit scholars, young woman being taken out of shalas in stretchers, and gay boys having dormant eating disorders stoked.
As director of @dcashtanga i still encourage chanting— but the chants we chant are older than the dirt of mysore’s palace. I still encourage practice in its most raw form— contemplation, breath, movement, and stillness— and I trust that the practice will become self evident of its excellence.
Notes from the field
No notes yet · members & customers welcome
- No notes yet. Be the first to leave one.
Join MichaelFilter
Michael Joel Hall’s daily reading — the field journal, critical-thinking cards, and synthesis — as a membership.
$5.50/month · cancel anytime
Join — $5.50/mo →Secure checkout on theyoga.club. A yearly option ($55) is available there too.