i’ve got a lot of very nice rejection letters for my poetry in the past year. lest this sound like a complaint, i want to make it clear that this pleases me immensely. having worked at a lit mag, i know that the volume of submissions can be overwhelming. and it’s hard work (and rarely paid work) to read through it all. it’s so much easier to send the form letter and have done with the staring stack. i deeply appreciate it when an editor takes the time out to make a specific and personal comment. i do a little happy special dance.

i’m considering starting a separate page of this blog for “rejection praise.” yeah? nay?

and, just because i like lists and the number 4, here’s some noteworthy things in my life right now:

• my first trip to south america was magically amazing. i hope to be back soon.
• i am very excited to see mark kozelek in a church next week. he can sing me the phone book.
• my sister gave me a great vegan cookbook as a gift. since i’ve been eating like absolute shit for the last few months, i think this will be the push i need to return to a good food place.
• i think that i’m finally going to see the degas nude exhibit at the MFA tomorrow. one of my favorite paintings of all time is there. really there.

unrelated: i have a theory that there’s one perfect line in every they might be giants song. ergo:

“no one in this world ever gets what they want and that is beautiful / everybody dies frustrated inside and that is beautiful”

however, the injury taught me to take my practice seriously in a new way. i’ve scaled back on much of the asana that i do and my body and my yoga are better for it. i almost never do an unmodified vinyasa anymore (knees down all the way, baby). i rarely practice wheel or headstand despite being a lover of ashtanga. my shoulder stand practice is also a very careful one and i often skip that too. beyond simply removing or altering my approach to poses, though, my injury – regardless of its source – has taught me to be a better yoga teacher. it taught me that yoga is not about where a student “should” be based on some arbitrary system like years of practice. most students should be doing less so that they can do more.

this somewhat hyperbolic but important article is out in this week’s NYT magazine. the headline is whack and there are some scare tactics masquarading as statistics, but i am so behind the sentiment expressed here. yoga is not for everybody or for every body. anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something.

as a teacher and a student of yoga, i am constantly aware of how much i don’t know. and it’s scary to be the guide, to be the one telling someone else what to do physically. and it’s scary to be in a classroom and not be certain whether or not a teacher can assess and guide your individual body effectively.

these 3 things are addressed at the beginning of every class i teach:

1) injuries, limitations, discomfort anywhere in the body?

students are often shy about speaking up & i find that midway through a pose someone will end up telling me something doesn’t work for them. better late than never! speak up students!

2) if it hurts, don’t do it.

at no point in your yoga practice should you ever be in pain. the breath is your best guide. if you are able to breath deeply and consistently then you are unlikely to push yourself past your body’s natural limits.

3) you are responsible for your own practice.

listen to your body before you listen to a teacher. if something feels unsafe or uncomfortable DON’T DO IT. down dog or child’s pose are always options. or just sit cross-legged and breathe. or wave down  your teacher and ask for an alternative asana. but be aware of your own practice and be responsible for yourself. your teacher can’t experience your practice for you.

yoga is no better or worse than anything else. it’s a tool. if you use it well, it will serve you well. and for some people, that might even mean not using it at all.

this is also not the point, but, holy shit that woman sounds amazing. better than ever. and she had a string quartet. cello + “cruel” = i die.

ok, digressive girl, what is the point? it hit me sitting at this concert talking my poor girl friend’s ear off about my nostalgia and just a tiny piece of the shit that’s wrapped up in my brain about this woman and her music: tori amos gave me an incredible gift. as an extremely awkward teenage girl with lots of confused feelings, i had this incredible rock. this music that makes so much fucking sense. which wasn’t just tori amos’s music (because shit like marilyn manson and foreigner also makes a lot of sense to me), but she was a woman. a woman who put everything out there. the frustration, the anger, the sex, the sorrow, all the things that women are just not supposed to feel because women are always cheerful and helpful and put together and there for you. and here was this beautiful, talented, honest, ugly shit on stage and writ large and being dealt with. liberated.

and what hit me tonight is that i’ve forgotten how to be that girl in huge ways. scary big not good ways. now that i’m supposed to be a woman dealing with this shit, i’m not. i’ve elided. i’ve tried so fucking hard to be what i thought i should be, what i thought other people wanted me to be. and i’ve been myself too. but in sideways ways. and some of that is growing up. and some of that is bullshit.

so what i want to be is that ugly honest again. not just on the page, where it’s easy to be honest because i can be anyone and everyone. but in myself. and i am myself in spite of everything. but i’m a scared self who thinks that if i’m really me then what? then i make no sense to anyone. least of all me.

and what i want to keep, along with the fucking ridiculous beauty of this show, is this feeling of the music as a vehicle that i can use. because that’s what art is. a way to get closer to being ourselves and to each other.

so my adventures in the coming month will include a trip to argentina for a wedding, and i will be staying with the bride’s family in an urban area (but not buenos aires). from everything that i’ve gathered in talking with people who have visited or lived in argentina, it’s going to be near-impossible for me to get by there without eating meat. for better or worse, i made the decision to go into what i’ve dubbed “meat training” for the month. my logic is that if it’s extremely unlikely that i can avoid meat, i don’t want to risk being sick while i’m there. i don’t expect to be fully in control of what i eat, hate the idea of being difficult when i’m being hosted by a friend’s family, and it’s not like i’ll die if i eat meat (it’s a choice that i can make from a position of privilege, after all, not a life-threatening medical decision), and the meat that i would be eating is way less processed than what i am eating here.

if this is starting to sound like me trying to rationalize this decision, well…

so i had decided that i’d start off by eating some turkey last week, which i did. i also had a sandwich that involved ham from one of my favorite local restaurants that is going out of business in a couple weeks. ugh. just this small amount of meat reintroduced in my diet and my body feels heavier. my digestion feels slow. overall it’s just not pleasant. so now i’m wondering what the eff am i doing? shouldn’t i back out of this? but i really would rather feel this way now than while i’m traveling and am hoping against my better instincts that i might not feel junky while i’m in argentina.

so i’m feeling like i’m in limbo right now. i’m not too keen mentally or physically about continuing with this meat training experiment, yet i’m not sure that backing out of it is the best idea either. one thing is for sure, this has been super valuable in giving me a solid basis to compare how i feel on a pescetarian diet versus a fully omnivorous one. and, weirdly, i can eat awful processed crap from a box and still feel better than i do eating meat. which just seems wrong.

so happy to spend time with friends i rarely get to see

feeling awesome about my practice, despite injuries and stiffness

reading for thesis and writing poetry and exploring this place; yes, this is me at my most

missing someone who never missed me

first, a little bit of ashtanga police comedy. all the yogis i know have great (and cheesy) senses of humor. enjoy!

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next up, an article from yoga journal on practice and injury. i particularly like the reminder to do no harm, even to yourself. and i think most of us can identify with the “no pain no gain” mentality of if you don’t feel something hurting you’re doing it wrong. it’s an assumption of western physical fitness culture that doesn’t reconcile with yoga so well, and that i know i actively fight against.

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lastly, a super interesting blog from a pastor on yoga and Christianity. i deeply appreciate the research and thought that went into this article. and i agree with one really crucial point here: the practice of yoga will likely change your outlook on the world. how that manifests is different for different people. and i think that many yoga practitioners would agree with the sentiment that “Everything we do with our physical bodies also involves our immaterial souls. We are one person, and whatever we do involves and affects the totality of who we are.”

so what about yoga and religion? is yoga inherently religious? first, let’s clear up any notion that what is practiced today in the west might have any resemblance to historical forms of yoga or Hinduism. it’s simply not the case. if it were, women would not be allowed to practice, men outside of specific castes would not be permitted to practice, and there would most definitely NOT be hip hop yoga. the yoga practiced in the u.s. now is a set of modern forms based to varying degrees on ancient teachings. to my mind, the mere fact that western cultures have appropriated yoga (for better or worse) and created new styles of it means that it would be difficult to say that yoga is inherently anything in the united states except poses and breathing.

but let’s return to this notion that yoga changes a person. experiential evidence would appear to bear out this claim. and by that same evidence, i would suggest that these changes often (but not always) manifest in greater compassion for self and others, consideration of consequences, and awareness of interconnectedness.

i was not raised in a religious setting. however, i have attended Christian, Catholic, and Jewish services. i have selectively read and studied the Old and New Testaments, the Koran, and devotional Hindu works, among other types of religious writings. this by way of saying that i am in no way a religious insider, but i have immense respect for and interest in religion. (it’s actually part of my day job, and i am attending the american academy of religion conference in a few weeks.)

as a yoga teacher trained from a western perspective, i have a couple of reactions to the article. first, is that my understanding of yoga concurs with Pastor Driscoll’s in that it is part of a system. (however, whether it is part of the 8-limb path or not greatly varies based on the type of yoga being practiced.) generally, yoga is a physical preparation for meditation. meditation is a mental preparation for communion with the divine. where i differ from the pastor is in assuming: 1) that every practitioner of yoga will have the desire to meditate or commune with the divine and 2) that the divine is in any way spelled out in yogic philosophy in a way that excludes all possibility of reconciling with the Christian God. nothing that i have read or learned about the teachings of yoga or about Christianity suggests to me that the goals are essentially different. perhaps i am misguided in my conception of Christianity, but i’ve been led to believe that the teachings are about reaching divinity (Heaven and communion with God). the Christian faith is partially based on the notion that the path to God relies on salvation through Jesus. am i totally off base in thinking that the path to Jesus might look different for different people, although based on the same principles and practices? or in thinking that compassion, consideration, and awareness cultivated through a yoga practice might lead to a life lived in a way that resonates with Christian doctrine? because my perception is that there’s no uncrossable gulf here.

does every style of yoga work with a particular religious philosophy? absolutely not. and i would recommend to any students in a class of mine that, if they wanted to practice yoga at all, it should be consistent with their outlook on how to live a happy, productive, good life (in a religious or non-religious sense). this means that certain teachers and certain styles will resonate and others won’t. a class with a lot of chanting of Hindu devotional works would likely not be comfortable for a devout practitioner of another religion. but a class that focuses on the physical practice probably could be.

and as for the OM, some teachers don’t even do it. and participation is always optional.

i’m really interested to hear other peoples’ perspectives on this!

tl;dr summary: i think that yoga does change people, but that those changes are not necessarily inconsistent with Christianity (or other religions). i don’t think that yoga is inherently a religion, but even when yoga is used as preparation for meditation and communion with the divine, i’m unaware of any reason why the divine here absolutely must be interpreted as part of Hindu faith and cannot stand for the Christian God. i’m no expert, though. and i’m glad to have read Pastor Driscoll’s thoughtful and engaging article.

let me put this out there, universe. if i am going to be your free yoga consultant, you are going to have to give it some thought. with that in mind, here is a list of 5 things to ask yourself before you try a yoga class (or ask your awesome yogi friends for advice):

1. why are you interested in yoga? physical fitness? injury rehab? personal growth? which leads to….
2. what style of class would suit your current needs? athletic? gentle? how much anatomy or spirituality do you want?
3. how important are location and time to you? are you willing to travel? are you looking for morning classes? weekends?
4. how much are you willing to pay for a class?
5. do you want a gym atmosphere? something more communal?

super interesting video from Cherokee Nation on their own history. yes, a sovereign nation should stay sovereign.

i thought that i would sign up for a mentorship with a teacher of mine, Nicole, who has an incredibly deep knowledge of how to work with the body.  i could learn an amazing amount from her. after much teeth-gnashing, i’ve reluctantly decided that the timing of this is not right for me. i hope that i will have the chance to do this in the winter or spring of next year because i would regret the missed opportunity. a major fault of mine, though, is not providing myself with the appropriate amount of time and space for the things that i take on. it’s something that i want and need to work on; passing on this mentorship and recognizing that it’s not good for me right now is, i hope, a small but positive step in that direction.

i don’t feel that i can offer myself as a sub at any studios right now. my schedule is just too nuts, and what’s the point of saying i can sub if i can only do it 1 weekend day & 1 week night? however, a friend of mine recently asked if i would be comfortable subbing his Ashtanga class if needed. not sure that anything will come of that, but i would LOVE to teach some Ashtanga. the next couple weekends are spoken for, but next month i plan to take a few classes at the studio – the idea of teaching somewhere that i’ve never practiced doesn’t sit well with me and seems unprofessional. i’m waiting for a minor (and silly) ankle injury to clear up, but fall really makes me want to dig into my Ashtanga practice big time.

so i’m revising my ideas about what place yoga teaching will have in my life right now. i’d like to inquire with a couple of people about doing some adjusting for their classes to get practice and keep learning how to get my hands on people in effective ways. i’ll try to offer a class of my own once a month. i want to reinvest in my Ashtanga practice and ask some of the experienced ashtangis i know for their advice. next year, i hope to pursue a mentorship and participate in some anatomy workshops. i’m also planning to put together a list of “Essential Yoga Reads” & set some research goals for the next six months. if you’ve got any book recs, please comment!!!

so who are the Freedmen? this is the name given to Cherokee slaves who participated in the Trail of Tears death march and were mandated, by the US government, to be included in the Cherokee Nation in 1866. in the 18th & 19th centuries, the Cherokee (in a general sense) made great efforts to be considered “civilized” by the US government – largely because Jefferson had intimated that they may be left to their own devices in their traditional homelands if they played along with European-American social norms. a glance at not only history, but at the still-prevalent conditions and difficulties that native peoples face in their own country tells the rest of the story well enough. the policy of the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma for tribal enrollment is the ability to trace ancestry to the Dawes Roll, a document created by the Bureau of Indian Affairs around the turn of the 20th century, motivated by the federal government’s desire to break up tribal land holdings into individual allotments on the theory that individual property ownership would make the Cherokee more American and less “Indian.” (let’s not even touch upon the problems inherent in this document at present. oof.)

what’s all the fuss? there is a lot of sturm-und-drang over whether Freedmen should be included in an indigenous tribe. the Cherokee Court upheld a decision to expel them, which stirred this up anew. the NY Times Room for Debate hosted this excellent series of short commentaries from experts across an array of fields, many of them indigenous people. the US government has become involved by threatening to revoke funds if Freedmen are not reinstated to the tribe. the matter is further complicated by last month’s disputed vote for the new chief of the Nation, which the Freedmen participated in. the Acting-Chief has made provisions for Freedmen to participate in the second round of balloting, but no final decision has yet been reached regarding their tribal affiliation in the long term. (side note: Freedmen were not technically American citizens in the 19th and 20th centuries. Native Americans were not recognized as US citizens until 1924 and were not given clear and definitive voting rights even then. it was not until the Voting Rights Act of 1965 that Native Americans became unequivocally franchised. voting rights matter.)

there are LOTS of issues that cloud this one. it’s very easy to say that descendants of Freedmen have every right to continue to be part of the Cherokee Nation. sovereignty and identity are at stake – the core signification of being a tribe.

these issues strike me hard. is there anything more fraught than the question of who is native? it seems to lie pulsing at the center of many indigenous battles. i find Kevin Noble Maillard’s NYT piece particularly compelling: “Real Indians were created by Real White People.” it’s a classic ‘defining the Self by the Other’ sort of colonial trope, but it resonates. the badge of “Real Indian” carries incredible burdens and baggage. the badge of “Wannabe Indian” carries its own stigmas.

i intend to comment on this further, but for me the question of the Freedmen is ultimately a question about what the Cherokee Nation wants to stand for.

the US government should not get involved (not that that’s ever stopped it, within or without its own borders). and i hope that the people of CN Oklahoma will look long at what they stand to gain by the various courses of action open to them. i am not enrolled in any Cherokee tribe (although i hope to go through the process of vetting my ancestry after my grandmother does). but i would be proud to see tribal sovereignty (of this or any other Nation) asserted by affirming the human rights and human dignity that have often been denied to native peoples by outsiders.

(disclosure note: i am not a Native authority. i was not raised in any indigenous culture. my family has done research that is ongoing, and we are taking an active interest in learning about where we come from. i welcome correction of anything that may be misstated here. this post represents my understanding of Cherokee history and governance based on research that i have undertaken, and my own interpretation of that information. i speak only for myself.)