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 I was concerned that the examples were extreme and outdated (one was from 1972).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.