Oh, The New York Times.

I was concerned about a lot of things in the New York Times' article on why yoga can be oh-so-dangerous. I was concerned about the scary stat that in 2002, forty-six people went to the emergency room for a yoga related injury- I worry that people will think that number is statistically significant. I was concerned that the examples were extreme and outdated (one was from 1972). I was concerned because the Times' concerns were anonymous: "One specialist noted that ligaments — the tough bands of fiber that connect bones or cartilage at a joint — failed to regain their shape once stretched out, raising the risk of strains, sprains and dislocations." Who? When?

The only thing this article needed to feel complete was a picture of people doing bad yoga.  AND looking freaked out.

Now, there are some yamas, some things that, especially for the purposes of avoiding injury, yoga is not, and I think this is a great opportunity to talk about them among ourselves and to the newly yoga'ed. We, as teachers, try to make sure that everybody understands that

a) yoga is not a competitive sport. See that woman on the mat next to you? The one who has the grace of a ballet dancer and the hamstrings of Gumby? No you don't. Because you're not looking at her. You checked your ego at the door, so it's not telling you that you can rest your head on the floor in uttanasana.

b) yoga is not about stretching. Yes, working out kinks in your hips can be a very nice side effect, but yoga is (at least for me and many other practitioners that I know) about breathing through anything, practicing mindfulness, learning to listen to and love your body, and de-cluttering your mind. So are you trying to lay your whole palm on the floor when your body is cold? Nope. You are breathing.

c) yoga is not where you go to tell your body what to do. Using the statistical methodology of the Times, I would say that telling your body what to do when your body is screaming in pain actually does cause injury about 74.38% of the time (66% of statistics are made up on the spot). I can't say it enough: your body is your best teacher. No yoga instructor in front of a class can tell you what only you know. If your body is telling you to stop twisting, are you pushing to impress the betighted yogini in the front? Nay, good sir. You are listening to your spine.

d) yoga is not about ego. I'm sure Glenn Black is a wonderful teacher, but I was confused by much of what he said, including this:

“It’s ego,” he said. “The whole point of yoga is to get rid of ego.” He said he had seen some “pretty gruesome hips.” “One of the biggest teachers in America had zero movement in her hip joints,” Black told me. “The sockets had become so degenerated that she had to have hip replacements.” I asked if she still taught. “Oh, yeah,” Black replied. “There are other yoga teachers that have such bad backs they have to lie down to teach. I’d be so embarrassed.”

Um.

I have to say, it would be a big lesson for my ego to have to teach flat on my back. But if the point is to get rid of the ego, why be embarrassed? Shouldn't we be bringing our experiences to our students to help them in their journey? And that brings us to the next troubling question for us yoga teachers: if we are ashamed to have pushed our bodies to breaking, and we don't share that information with our students, what's to stop them from doing the same thing?

Dear New York Times, the yoga community isn't sniffing disdainfully because you let us know that people get injured in yoga.  Of course they do. We're mostly concerned because it's an article full of old science, outdated human interest stories, irrelevant statistics, and concerning contradictions.  But since many of these things are readily apparent, I guess my biggest concern is that there wasn't anything more exciting for the Times to print.  

Valuing the Important Stuff

This is an odd subject for a new year's first post, but it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately: what has value, and what that means, and how much we should be paying for it. I'm especially interested in this since I've been working with kids for the last couple of years, and I also teach yoga and flute. I'm going to call those three things intangible. Tangible things like food (although this is another complicated one- I'll save it for another post), clothing, furniture, or something else that you can hold in your hand would fall into the simply divided second category. I know there are better or cleaner ways to divide services, and I'd love to hear them, but I'm going with this for a minute. Please keep in mind that I know next to nothing about economics (but would love to learn), and these are my thoughts based on observation.

I would imagine that tangible things are a little easier to value because you have them in your hand at the end of the day, and maybe even the day after that. If you buy a futon for a hundred bucks off Craigslist, you'll be sitting on that futon for a while. If you sit on it for one hundred days, the value is a dollar a day. If you sit on it for three years, you've only paid nine cents a day. That's one heck of a deal.

If you attend a yoga class, you're looking at a whole different beast. First, buying a yoga class is not the same as purchasing your CL futon because what you acquire can't be sat on, and has to be maintained with more yoga classes. You might buy one class for $16, loosen up your hips a great deal, and think "wow, that was totally worth it." But if you don't continue to go to yoga classes, your hips will tighten right back up, and you might think "well that class didn't do anything for me. It wasn't worth it." On the other hand, intangible things have the ability to change your life in a way that tangible things might not: you continue to purchase yoga classes, you are more in shape, more comfortable with your body, all of your joints work better, you are more at peace. Heck, maybe you sell your futon because you can finally sit comfortably on the floor. And this isn't just about yoga. It's about zumba or pilates, joining a gym, or getting a massage from an experienced bodyworker.

The reason I've been thinking about this so much is actually because of childcare. Is it important to have quality, consistent care for your child? Of course. Is it the case that many people in this country cannot afford good quality childcare? Yes, and I think that's a huge topic for another post. What concerns me is the reality of people who need childcare paying jaw-droppingly little for someone to care for their offspring. I ran across this post on Craigslist the other day:

i am looking for a full time babysitter for my 2month old. the hours would vary weekly but not much. generally there will be two days that the hours would be 7amish - 12ish and the rest of the week would only be until 4ish. Im looking for someone who has experience and has refernces. pay will be $75 a week i will supply diapers and formula. 

Assuming this is a five-day proposition, the provider would be working thirty-seven hours a week for $75. That's $2.14 an hour. (But don't worry: they're supplying the diapers and formula. If you had to shell out for those, it might eclipse your pay altogether.)

I'm assuming a lot of things here- I'm assuming that the poster can afford to pay for childcare at all, for starters. But offering $5.16 under minimum wage (which I'm reasonably sure is not legal) for someone to either transport themselves to your home to care for your infant, or to use their utilities to care for your infant in their own home... it doesn't strike me as being an offer that would attract someone who would be committed to your child. It also has an effect on the childcare provider, regardless of the provider's strong beliefs about childcare or the value of their work- if her work, or his work, is only worth $2.14 an hour, how hard should they be working? Why is their work worth so little? Why are they even doing it?

The dude and I have been discussing this pretty often lately with regard to piano lesson cancellations. He's changed his policies to reflect a lot of these thoughts, along the line that musical instructors are highly qualified, highly trained individuals, and it's troubling when their time, travel, and energy is undervalued.

There are a lot of things to pay for in life. We're faced with a barrage of material things for which we need to shell out every day. I would love to see some attention paid to the insubstantial things that matter- caring for our bodies, caring for our artistic spirit, caring for our next generation. These things are love, for ourselves and for those around us, and they matter. Even though they are intangible, they are central in our lives, and they deserve to be valued.