I Practice Yoga, But I’m Not A Yogi
Wait, can you practice yoga, but not be a yogi? Or better yet, can you practice yoga, and not do so spiritually?
These questions have been top of mind for me lately as I’ve been kind of in a deep dive of what the hell I even believe in, and really questioning core parts of my identity.
Considering the fact that I’ve been a yoga teacher for 10 years, you can say that the label of “yogi” was attached to my identity for a long time. But you also might notice that I just used the past tense.
Was.
I’m not a yogi even though I practice yoga.
And lately, I’ve been going through the physical motions of yoga without attaching a ton of spiritual meaning to it. Sure, I still set an intention for my practice. And yes, I still meditate every day.
I also practice yoga “beyond the mat,” if you will, through other elements of yoga philosophy both in my day-to-day life, and in my businesses.
So yeah, I definitely think you can practice yoga and not be a yogi. And I also think you can do yoga without spirituality.
Okay that’s it, problem solved! Blog is over!
Just kidding….
Let’s get into it.
And as always, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. I love reading through your feedback on these posts, by the way.
I Practice Yoga, But I’m Not A Yogi
If you’ve been keeping up with the blog, then you know that I’ve kinda been *going through it,* to put it lightly. And if you haven’t, then just read this post for the most effective catch up.
As much as the hard stuff, well…..
Sucks.
The best part about it is all that you learn from it, right? I know it’s really annoying to hear that when you’re in the middle of it, just sitting in the shit wondering if there’s any way out. But the reality is….
It’s true.
I’ve gone through a lot of hard things in my life: assault, death, near death experiences, coming out, public scrutiny, and serious illnesses. Like, the big stuff. As I’m sure many of you can relate to.
While all of those instances have been horrible- truly, there’s no way of sugarcoating it- they have also brought me closer to me. I’ve learned more about who I am as a result of simply surviving.
The last few months have been no different.
So, like I mentioned before, I’ve been questioning my beliefs lately. And some of my conclusions have really challenged former parts of my identity. One of them being the “yogi” part of me.
It really clicked for me recently when someone online was saying something rude to me about “always complaining,” because I was sharing about my most recent heartache with a failed IVF cycle.
To put it plainly, her five million word paragraph of a comment on my post pissed me off, and I responded sharply as a result of it. I didn’t cuss at her, or name call her, or anything crazy- I just didn’t really give her the time of day, honestly.
Mostly because it was full of spiritual bypassing, and telling me how to be a “real yogi” going through adversary.
That’s when I realized: I’m not a yogi!
Not only am I not a yogi, but I also don’t want to be one either.
According to this woman (and many others who have left similar commentary on my posts, in my DMs and emails over the years), being a “yogi” is equivalent to being a doormat.
It means that someone can write you a mini essay about all the ways that you suck as a person, and you’re meant to “meet them with compassion,” not challenge their belief, not show any emotional response, and just…..
Take it.
HA.
People reading this who actually know me, like really know me, will understand why that won’t fly for me.
Look, I get it, yoga teachers are meant to be cool, calm, and collected. We’re meant to have a certain persona that’s somehow ethereal and grounded at the same time. We’re supposed to be wise, patient, and essentially levitate instead of walk.
Sounds silly, I know. But trust me, this expectation is real.
Whenever I’ve shown big emotion, whether that’s publicly or privately, I’ve had people say to me:
“Aren’t you supposed to be a yoga teacher?”
What’s that got to do with it? Well, apparently being a yoga teacher means you’re no longer allowed to also be human.
The funny thing about that is that every yoga teacher I've ever met found yoga by going through a really hard time. They hit some kind of rock bottom, or have a bit of checkered past leading them to yoga.
You know how people kind of joke that therapists are usually the most messed up people of all? I think it’s sort of true for yoga teachers, too. Sorry, but I feel like I can say that, because I am one.
We tend to be sensitive as hell. We’re seekers, on some healing path, which means we probably have some deep dark shit to heal from.
So, my question is how the hell do you expect these same people to also be…..
Perfect?
Where Do Yogis Come From?
Okay, quick history lesson, because I know I have a lot of non-teachers who read this, which means you’re probably not as familiar with the origins of yoga. This will be a super fast tracked version, but feel free to look into it more on your own if you’re intrigued.
First things first, yoga comes from India. And there’s records of it being practiced for thousands, yes thousands, of years old.
While I’ve gone through over 1000 hours of training in a variety of styles, the main style I teach is Vinyasa Yoga, which is derived from Ashtanga Yoga. To put it in layman's terms, this is the kind of class with a “flow” and chaturangas between sequences.
Ashtanga Yoga came about in the early 1900s (still in India), and it was originally created for young boys. I’m talking like a 12-year-old, or so.
This is important, because nowadays we clearly have a lot of yoga practitioners who are not 12-year-old Indian boys, right? As in, we have very different body types, capabilities, and lifestyles to those young boys back in the day.
Ashtanga is a rigorous practice (if you know, you know…..not my personal jam, but to each their own). Why? Because they wanted to tire these kids out to get them to chill the hell out and actually meditate!
I mean, hello, if you’ve ever worked with kids then you know asking them to sit in meditation when their hormones and energy is bouncing off the walls sounds impossible. But if you asked them after, say, recess….it might be more possible.
Essentially, the whole point of asana was really about tiring out the body to be able to be still.
Yes, there’s still a lot to learn spiritually from asana, and the strength, flexibility, and mobility components were still prevalent- but really, it was about exhausting students into submission for the real magic: meditation.
Let’s also remember that the only people who were allowed to learn and teach yoga back then were men.
And also, this wasn’t something that was just readily available to everyone.
To be selected as a yogi in your community was an honor. It was synonymous with being a spiritual teacher, and a title that was held with high regard.
Unlike yoga as we know it today, you were not paid as a yoga teacher. You were, however, taken care of by your community as you served them spiritually. You were housed, fed, and clothed. Also, you were cherished.
Eventually, you’d reach a certain point in your practice where you’d go off to the Himalayas to live in a cave in isolation and meditation until your death.
That was what it meant to be a yogi.
Spiritual Bypassing And Yoga
I think it’s pretty dang obvious what the differences are between traditional yogis, and New Age Western yogis, right?
I don’t think the old school yogis would be hitting the Alo gym in LA, and posting it on their Instagram for their thousands of followers to like and comment on.
Also, I don’t think they’d be buying the cutest new yoga outfit, or buying $150 yoga mats. And they certainly wouldn’t be accepting money for their classes, let alone becoming financially free by running yoga retreats.
While the differences are obvious, there’s still been a lot of convulsion within the label of “yogi” in today’s world.
People loooooove to point out that “real yogis” don’t care about making money, because “traditional yogis didn’t change for their classes at all!”
On a side note, it always makes me lol at all the people rage commenting on my posts encouraging yoga teachers to actually make money from teaching yoga, instead of teaching for free. Can you imagine any other career where people would get *mad* at you for simply encouraging your colleagues to get paid.
Huh?
What’s even funnier about this is that 9/10 the commenter is a woman. She’s also usually a (woke) white woman on her high horse about “being true to the roots of the practice.” When she herself isn’t drinking her own Kool Aid, because if she was then she wouldn’t be allowed to practice- let alone TEACH- yoga at all now would she?
This is where I start to see the commonality between yoga as a practice and organized religion. Even though yoga is not religious, there’s still a lot of dogma within it. And where there’s dogma, there’s extremists.
You know how I feel about that if you read my post on why I’m gay, but not woke.
Similar to organized religion, this practice and these texts have been around for a long time. While there’s so much timeless truth and beauty to be found in both religious texts and yoga philosophy, alike, there are also pieces that become impossible to integrate into our modern day existence.
I’m sorry, but anytime someone comments about being a “real yogi” on my posts, I’m just wondering how they’re justifying being on social media at all if they’re truly on this path to yogic enlightenment in the traditional sense.
Here’s the truth: any yoga teacher or practitioner who uses social media to share their yoga practice isn’t a “real yogi” according to tradition. In fact, I’d venture to guess that there are no “real yogis” in the West at all.
I mean, c’mon, does your teacher accept money for their classes? Does your teacher plan on living in a cave in the Himalayas for the last quarter of their life, meditating until they die? I doubt it.
And by the way, there’s nothing wrong with that! Hello, I’m not a real yogi either! So, I'm certainly not judging them.
I’m simply pointing out that people like to cherry pick certain ideals from traditional teachings and texts, hold onto them really tightly, and run to the ends of the earth with them. All the while conveniently disregarding pieces from the same teachings and texts that don’t conveniently assimilate into their lives.
Oh yeah, it’s also kind of like Yoga 101 to practice non-judgement, right? That means even if you start with your comment with, “I’m not judging you, but……” and then leave a long list of ways in which you actually are judging the person isn’t *real yoga* either.
The thing is that when it’s individuals leaving those comments, I usually just laugh and roll my eyes. But it’s a whole other beast when it’s institutions and employers weaponizing the philosophy of yoga against you for their personal gain.
That might look like a yoga studio reminding you to “trust the process” when you ask for a raise , because you’re crushing your classes lately- instead of giving you the damn raise.
Or, it might look like a retreat center asking you for free labor as a form of Seva (selfless service) indefinitely with no plan to actually pay you in sight.
I’ve had people tell me I’m greedy, not compassionate, selfish, and a whole lot more that I can’t remember simply because…..
I asked to get paid for my work.
Yes, you read that right. I asked to get paid for my job. What an asshole right?
And this, my friends, is exactly why I reject the label of being a yogi.
Can You Practice Yoga And Not Be A Yogi?
Here’s the thing, times have changed a lot from a hundred years ago when Ashtanga was being taught to 12-year-old boys. Not only is yoga available in the West, but it’s available to both men and women. It’s available in all sorts of styles, lengths, and paces.
For better, or for worse.
I’d also like to remind you that yoga was brought to the West intentionally. This wasn’t something the West came in and stole from India. Read this book if you want to learn more about that.
Has the West completely transformed yoga from a spiritual practice into a multi-billion dollar industry thanks to capitalism? Yes it has! There’s no denying that.
And also, in doing so, yoga has become accessible to the masses. It’s touched so many people’s lives, and continues to do so every single day.
We live in a world where yoga teachers aren’t taken care of by their communities anymore. We’re not taken in and housed, clothed, and fed.
Actually, when you tell someone you’re a yoga teacher, they usually look you up and down and say something like:
“Oh cute!”
Or: “That’s fun!”
You know what I mean where it’s kind of condescending with an undertone of that’s not a real job.
People don’t take us seriously! And they certainly don’t regard us as spiritual teachers in the community. Granted, we aren’t hand selected to learn the practice anymore. It’s pretty much whoever can pay can play now.
So yeah, we need a salary to live. Because we can’t pay the rent with love and light. We can’t keep our belly’s full by manifesting abundance.
I don’t want to be a yogi, because being a yogi in today’s world means you’re expected to be that same non-human form that the old school, hand selected spiritual teachers were. But also live in a modern world that doesn’t allow for that.
I don’t want to be a yogi, because I don’t want to be a doormat. I don’t want to be a yogi, because I shouldn’t need to defend my character as a person simply because I want to be paid for my job.
So, I don’t want to be a yogi, because I want to have the space to still be the messy ass imperfect person I am without an apology trailing behind big emotions.
And look, I will say I’m sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression of being anything other than that. Just because I can teach a killer class with spiritual lessons to boot, doesn’t mean I’m not still also figuring out how the hell to navigate life.
Think about it. Do you ever give your friends advice that you struggle to take yourself? You know what I mean. Like when your friend is asking you if they should call the guy even though he hasn’t called them back in a week, and you’re like: “No! If he wanted to, he would!”
But then when you’re talking to someone, and they ghost you, you have the urge to send them fifty million texts without shame.
It’s classic human behavior to be able to shell out advice that you don’t necessarily take.
And the same goes for teaching.
We can teach you a lot about your body, your mind, and your heart…..and not be perfect. Like, not even close. We can teach you to be patient, and still snap with anger sometimes. We can teach you how to find balance in your life, and still procrastinate, or be late, or unorganized.
Also, I don’t want to be a yogi, because I don’t want to be perfect. I don’t want to be on a pedestal.
I want to be a teacher who’s learning alongside her students, rather than above them. Also, I want to be able to make mistakes, and to be humble enough to admit them. I want space to keep growing.
Because otherwise, what’s the point, ya know?
xx,
K