Eastern & Western Indians (But Not in That Order)

In our collection of old movies and TV shows stored on VHS, is a based-on-fact movie called Walks Far Woman. Starring, if you can believe it, Raquel Welch. Despite the fact that I’m not a huge fan of Raquel’s, this happens to be one of my favorite movies.

She plays an Indian banned by her tribe for killing her husband (in self-defense). After wandering a while she is taken in by another tribe, to live with the chief and his wife. Enter the young brave who falls in love/hate with her. Love because she’s gorgeous, hate because she is also athletic; and the two become highly competitive.

The handsome man eventually visit’s the tepee of the chief and explains awkwardly that he is confused about the beautiful Walks Far Woman’s position in the chief‘s family. “Do you think of her as your daughter? Your sister? Or your wife?” The chief replies, “All of these.”

“And if I were to ask to marry her, how would I do that?” asks the young man. The chief replies,

“The old ways are always best.”

This comes to my mind as I prepare for the Traditional Yoga class I’ll be teaching when the new semester begins in a few weeks at the University of the Pacific. I call my class Traditional Yoga because, over the 40 years I’ve been teaching, I’ve seen so many changes take place. When someone asks me what style I teach, I say, “I began teaching before styles existed.” This means before Yoga became Americanized, commercialized, transformed into a business complete with cute clothes and trinkets and gadgets that are sold to increase revenue.

Now you can find Hot Yoga, Aqua Yoga, even Laughing Yoga, to name a few. You can find classes where a teacher merely strikes poses in front of the group, expecting them to follow the example asasks you to move into a forward bend and then puts all of his weight on you to force your stretch, and classes where a teacher asks you to remain in a posture for 20 or 30 possibly uncomfortable minutes.

I teach as I was taught by four different teachers, one of whom was from India. With the exception of one instructor, they also taught the way they were taught. They carried on the tradition of yoga without making changes to create a style they could then name after themselves, promote, and use to make big bucks. The one exception should have called his class Ego Yoga, since in each of the 10 classes he taught we spent most of our time listening to him tell us how great and wonderful he believed himself to be and how fortunate we were to be in his presence. Years after that I became certified by Kriyananda of the Ananda Yoga Retreat. It too has changed to become modernized, but I continue to visit and I relish my memories of “the good old days” when it was more rustic.

Once, in the dimly lit room of a health club where I was teaching, a gentleman came in after class began and sat silently in the back. I assumed he was there to observe rather than participate. Afterwards he came up to me and explained with an intriguing Indian accent that he had been visiting various classes on his visit to America. Mine, he told me, was the only one that “felt like Yoga. In fact,” he added with his palms together and a slight tip of his head (and this gives me chills every time it crosses my mind) “For me it was like a visit home.”

I’ve never tried to make a living at teaching Yoga. My belief is that Yoga is a personal experience, and in the traditional sense every teacher is sharing his or her personal experience of Yoga with students. I find it difficult to place the component of money into that equation. Yes, I’m often (and currently) paid to teach; but over the years I’ve also taught many classes without charging, and others with all proceeds going to the sponsoring organization.

As for “styles,” in my mind any Yoga at all is better than no Yoga. I’m 70 this year and who knows how much longer I’ll be in the front of the class sharing my Yoga experience with university students young enough to be my grandchildren? While I am, however, I’ll be teaching as I have taught for 40 years, following in the footsteps of my teachers, who followed in the footsteps of theirs.

I believe the old ways are always best.