the Yoga bullies

[Guest guest]

The New York yoga classes I attend make me long for the spirit

of '76. So for the past week, I have been following Steve Ross'

Inhale (Oxygen, mornings at 6 ET)—and struggling, in the privacy of

my own home, to actually get relaxed.

 

I picked the wrong class. Ross, reportedly a legend in Los Angeles,

is bald, good-looking, and groovy, even though, inexplicably, he's

never seen outside of genie pants. His Web site implies that he has

special access to bliss; in class, he has the swagger of a gigolo. He

chuckles to himself at the room's incompetence, drawling, " Don't beat

yourself up about it if you can't do it well. I'll be happy to beat

you up. " Then, when he's not mocking the weak and the inflexible,

he's issuing instructions in irritating accents like " Come on down,

mon, " or " Come all ze way down. "

 

Ross' students work out to light rock, reggae, Motown, and obvious,

overplayed singles from other genres. The students—in their 20s and

30s, widely pierced, dressed in earth tones that roughly match—

dutifully heed him, though he offers next to no explanation of the

poses. Some of the participants, including one whom Ross called

Andrew, seem especially talented. And they are unflappable. Push the

butt back until you feel a screaming, white-hot sensation that you

might know as pain. Frequently this week, when Ross said that kind of

thing, I stopped, sat back on my heels in the I-hate-you asana, and

watched in awe as the good students felt the white pain.

 

The first half of the workout is a long series of sun salutations,

most of which rely on the shift from the familiar poses that Ross

calls " up dog " to " down dog. " These are feasible, but Ross also

requires some one-leg and one-arm balancing that I find difficult. He

then proceeds through a variety of more esoteric poses—it's hatha

yoga he's doing, the kind about " flow " —often concentrating

on " opening the pelvis. "

 

Other people might understandably be bothered by Oxygen's commercial

breaks, which do little to further the hatha mood, but I was grateful

to get away from Ross. I would hang upside-down and tell

myself, " He's cool, he's himself, he knows about bliss, he's fine. "

But then Ross would reappear, and I'd swear he seemed angrier than

before. " For something more advanced, you can do what Andrew's

doing, " he said once, quickly sneering, " Though I wouldn't call

him 'advanced.' "

 

That did it. Andrew, I thought, flee from this phonily supportive

world! You're advanced, you're relaxed, you're great—it's Ross and

the yoga bullies who are out of line. In fact, yoga's gone far

enough; I think it's high time we all pick up a form of exercise with

more forgiving coaches, like tennis or football.

 

you can find the full article at:

 

http://slate.msn.com/id/2076431/

[Guest guest]

Bravo!!!

apparently, the utter worthlessness of what I experienced through you

isn't empty enough for that ultra special void, which for some vacant

reason, responds to the word Elizabeth. Oh darn.

 

There must be something wrong somewhere - even though there is no one

to experience it - or carry on endless chatter. ha!

 

broken wrongs

sniffing poopy butts

humorlessly

endlessly

giggle

oops

b

 

 

 

Nisargadatta , " Hur Guler <hur@p...> "

<hur@p...> wrote:

> The New York yoga classes I attend make me long for the spirit

> of '76. So for the past week, I have been following Steve Ross'

> Inhale (Oxygen, mornings at 6 ET)—and struggling, in the privacy of

> my own home, to actually get relaxed.

>

> I picked the wrong class. Ross, reportedly a legend in Los Angeles,

> is bald, good-looking, and groovy, even though, inexplicably, he's

> never seen outside of genie pants. His Web site implies that he has

> special access to bliss; in class, he has the swagger of a gigolo.

He

> chuckles to himself at the room's incompetence, drawling, " Don't

beat

> yourself up about it if you can't do it well. I'll be happy to beat

> you up. " Then, when he's not mocking the weak and the inflexible,

> he's issuing instructions in irritating accents like " Come on down,

> mon, " or " Come all ze way down. "

>

> Ross' students work out to light rock, reggae, Motown, and obvious,

> overplayed singles from other genres. The students—in their 20s and

> 30s, widely pierced, dressed in earth tones that roughly match—

> dutifully heed him, though he offers next to no explanation of the

> poses. Some of the participants, including one whom Ross called

> Andrew, seem especially talented. And they are unflappable. Push

the

> butt back until you feel a screaming, white-hot sensation that you

> might know as pain. Frequently this week, when Ross said that kind

of

> thing, I stopped, sat back on my heels in the I-hate-you asana, and

> watched in awe as the good students felt the white pain.

>

> The first half of the workout is a long series of sun salutations,

> most of which rely on the shift from the familiar poses that Ross

> calls " up dog " to " down dog. " These are feasible, but Ross also

> requires some one-leg and one-arm balancing that I find difficult.

He

> then proceeds through a variety of more esoteric poses—it's hatha

> yoga he's doing, the kind about " flow " —often concentrating

> on " opening the pelvis. "

>

> Other people might understandably be bothered by Oxygen's

commercial

> breaks, which do little to further the hatha mood, but I was

grateful

> to get away from Ross. I would hang upside-down and tell

> myself, " He's cool, he's himself, he knows about bliss, he's fine. "

> But then Ross would reappear, and I'd swear he seemed angrier than

> before. " For something more advanced, you can do what Andrew's

> doing, " he said once, quickly sneering, " Though I wouldn't call

> him 'advanced.' "

>

> That did it. Andrew, I thought, flee from this phonily supportive

> world! You're advanced, you're relaxed, you're great—it's Ross and

> the yoga bullies who are out of line. In fact, yoga's gone far

> enough; I think it's high time we all pick up a form of exercise

with

> more forgiving coaches, like tennis or football.

>

> you can find the full article at:

>

> http://slate.msn.com/id/2076431/