just like dancing about architecture

I can only imagine that somewhere on this expansive planet of ours, a dictionary exists defining irony as "blogging about yoga." Take a centuries-old spiritual/physical practice, and combine it with the internet, and... well, who knows what could happen? At the very least I show a touch of respect for the ages by using a second-hand PC that still runs Windows 98. (I also imagine that somewhere in Washington Bill Gates has just fainted.)

Once I crossed the threshold between practitioner and teacher, I felt a still-unsatisfied need to discuss my journey as a teacher and all the crazy, mixed-up things that come up while on that journey. I plan on sussing those things out here, in hopes of maybe seeing some progress in/with my teaching, and maybe with my own practice.

There's also the very real (to me) fact that I am unlike most yoga practitioners and teachers I know. I come from an immigrant/working class background. I'd be nothing if not for Riot Grrrl, NY hardcore and the entirety of the DIY scene of the 1990's. (To be fair I should throw in a nod towards growing up with hip hop in New York, which definitely influenced a lot of where I went and what I became.) All these pieces together create a completed puzzle of a total gadfly - a definite bullshit detector. It would seem, on the surface, that it makes perfect sense for someone always seeking truth to pursue yoga. To me, though, it seems the way many of us actually engage in that pursuit strays far from the truth.

So this will be a blog about a scumbag who does yoga. Trust me: "scumbag" is hardly a pejorative in my lexicon. (And if you haven't already noticed, I have little fear of using more colorful language.) Perhaps someone else will find it entertaining.