Upon surveying those who have taken this teacher’s class, these are the responses I heard:

“Wait is he in town?!”

“Oh my God, I loooooooved his class.”

“Oy.”

“MC TeaBag? Love that guy!”

I know what you must be thinking and I agree. Aren’t there better things to write about? But sometimes things happen in yoga and I feel a certain responsibility to share them so we can start a dialogue. It’s when we shove these little goings-on to the depths that we become naïve as to what people outside Yoga Nation are saying. And that is a big problem. I believe yoga is not growing as fast it could, if it’s even growing at all anymore. I believe yoga is not branching out in a way that would serve all those whose paycheck is dependent on the prosperity of our industry.

So I propose a national yoga conference less for teaching and more for dialogue. Like a TED or World Economic Forum for the fans, teachers, gurus, and marketers of the yoga industry.

Some things that need discussing:

–how to further the careers of young, talented yoga teachers across the nation who otherwise have little chance of being recognized. A talent scouting system of sorts.

–how to build better community amongst studios. So often studios will only promote their own workshops rather than joining forces and helping one another on a citywide basis.

–how to create a rating system for yoga classes based on the style of physical adjustments. G being for the teacher who will give a tap or two in down dog and nothing more. And R for the teacher who will plop down on top of you in Happy Baby and whisper sweet nothings in your ear/s. Those ratings will be applied by a rating certification business (like the Yoga Alliance but more corrupt) similar to how the movie business has the MPAA to rate films. Let’s be honest people. Some of us love to be touched, massaged, and rubbed and would opt for the R rated class anyday of the week. And some of us consider our inner thighs sacred territory and would stick with G and occasionally opt for PG on Friday nights.

Either way, we all love yoga whether it be the G, R, or dare I say X variety. So let’s join forces, stop the in-fighting, trash talking, and snobbery, and build bridges to the uninitiated thirsting for the peace and sanctity only a great savasana can provide.

Snoop stepped on stage over 60 minutes late after already delaying the start time 2 hours so he could attend the Lebron James-Cavs’ game across the street at the Quicken Loans Arena. Snoop finally began at midnight, didn’t smell enough weed in the air, and promptly reprimanded the crowd to light up. Then several full bodied women dancers came on the stage in string bikinis and flashed their woohoonies and veejerinas at the crowd while shaking their bodunkadunks to Snoop’s classics like “Gin and Juice” and “Sexual Eruption”.  “How polarizing!” I thought. “This could be something fun and different to try at the Midwest Yoga Conference in June.”

*****

A recent NY Times article entitled “The Fat Lady Has Sung” broke down our current state of affairs. As the article stated, “We just had our 70 fat years in America, thanks to the Greatest Generation and the bounty of freedom and prosperity they built for us.” Then there was the Grasshopper Generation which indulged and ate through our prosperity like “hungry locusts.”  And now, the question is, will we become the “Regeneration?” Will we step up the plate, and accept that we are a generation in which “the great task of government will be about taking things away from people?” Will we be able to handle the challenges, expenses, and endurance necessary to rebuild?

At the Snoop Dogg concert, there was no thought of Regeneration. I had a great, albeit kneebuckling time. One of America’s legendary rap/hip-hop artists made me dance, laugh, and sing out loud about things like drinking, smoking, and for lack of a cleaner word, fornicating. As I left the warmth of the House of Blues and stepped into the harsh reality of the freezing Ohio winter, nobody was high-fiving or ranting Snoop’s rallying cry “Get high and f—k!” There were far fewer baggy jeans sagging at the ankles than there were pants tightened up a notch or two around the waist.  And the bling just seemed a little out of place reflecting against the tin can of a street beggar hurting for work, food, and hope.

So where does this go now? I can tell you this. I love to party. I love Snoop Dawg. I am part of the Grasshopper Generation, a “locust” looking to consume, enjoy, and indulge. What am I doing to rebuild, repair, and Regenerate? Sad to say, so far, not a single thing. You?

Formerly a germ freak, I don’t care that Gibson was tongue-shining his cousin Cooper’s ballsack before jumping into my lap and licking me on the lips.  Always concerned with cleanliness, I’m the first to admit Gibson has left my condo looking (and sometimes smelling) like the upper deck men’s bathroom at an Oakland Raider game. Never would I have thought that watching in real-time a living being drop a deuce on my kitchen floor would actually provoke laughter if not the laughter of a desperate dog dad with limited knowledge on training a puppy.

My formula for happiness has been reduced to lying on the floor, getting licked and nibbled, and staring into the eyes of another being whose only worry in the world is to eat, play, and sleep.

******

Govan Brown* was a local legend in New York City. A city bus driver for more than 20 years who retired in 1988, Govan drove over 220,000 miles and was almost always pleasant, cheerful, and personable. It might be hard to understand how Govan found all of the above in driving a bus through the worst possible traffic, but one man’s grid is another man’s labyrinth. Said his boss, “Govan so mastered being happy with himself, happy with life, and happy with people that nobody can touch him.”

Maybe you know someone (or maybe you are) like Govan Brown…lucky enough to have found their unique place in the world. A Harvard psychologist, Howard Gardner, researched those rare people who, like Govan Brown, have found overwhelming joy in seemingly underwhelming careers. There are 3 factors that go into finding such joy: Engagement, excellence, ethics.  Govan strived for excellence by entertaining his passengers with a lively monologue on the places they were passing and their history, alerts of great sales, his reviews of movies at theaters they passed and highlights of museum exhibits. Ever so engaged in his daily encounters, Govan was known to greet a toddler with a handshake, spend at least two minutes giving directions to a teenager, and wish just about everyone a nice day as they disembarked. His ethics and morals were without question. As deacon of a Baptist church, Govan viewed his passengers, too, as a “flock” whose needs he tended.

Lying on the floor yesterday morning practicing yoga,  Gibson, the tiny lab pup, began licking my face as if he hadn’t been loved in 30 years let alone his 9 weeks of life. Thanks to Gibson, I now understand Govan Brown’s secret. Life is less about climbing the  peaks and more about finding the grooves.

*Govan Brown info inspired by NY TIMES (11-15-08)

Some of us are like difficult babies, whining and whimpering in our pursuit of revelation.  And some of us are easier, finding Perfection in a warm blanket on a rainy Sunday, or a delicious plate of amatriciana when you’re mouthwatering hungry.

So here’s my question. What kind of baby are YOU?

–Happy-Go-Lucky Baby: you take life as it comes, usually smiling, happy for the warm day, the new face, the hot bath, the simple pleasures. Some common problems and how you respond: Your flight is canceled and you need to spend the night in O’Hare? You’ll just get work done. The Viagara doesn’t seem to be working anymore? Being the sweety that you are, you’ll keep things alive and well by giving the gift of Janeson Rayne’s innovative Magic Banana.

–Dirty Baby: you are ahead of the curve, walking at 6 months, talking at 9 months, mustache at 5 years old, hitting on 2nd grade teacher at 8 years old, virginity out the window at 12 years old. Your flight is canceled and you need to spend the night in O’Hare? Nothing phases you so long as you got a few blankets and the imagination. The Vigara doesn’t seem to be working anymore? Heck, who needs Viagara when you got a Marlboro 110, a slice of raw bacon covered in Tabasco, and a couple spritzes of One Man Show.

–Colic Baby: you have, shall we say, digestive issues and what some might call The Dirty Elves (see above pic) working overtime in your lowers. Your flight is canceled and you need to spend the night in O’Hare?  You clear out the waiting area with a Starbucks Squealer. The Viagra doesn’t seem to be working anymore? Doesn’t matter. Nobody wants to date you anyway as every time you go on a date, you subject the other to the Pomodoro Punchout or the Chardonnay Cooker or worst of all, The Dried Apricot Annihilation.

*****

Thinking back on the last few years, I realized my faith was virtually nonexistent. I worked, traveled, networked…but rarely prayed. I was like the guy at the gym with the giant upper body and tiny chicken legs…way out of balance. Without some way of letting go and establishing belief in something (anything) greater than one’s own self, our annoying vibration is no different and no less disgusting than a Burrito Butt Belch.

Might it be possible that one’s style and scent of Communication have the power to expedite a Response?  George Bernard Shaw said, “Most people do not pray, they only beg.” And while on occasion you might acknowledge the outstretched hand of a beggar, you’d much more likely be lured to the sweet sage and song on the other side of the block.

When the trunk of the Jurupa Oak is destroyed by burning, new shoots pop up all around it from the roots.  Similarly, pine tree cones will store their seeds for years until the heat of forest fires causes the pines to open up and release the seeds. In other words, the most enduring species in our world, things that live thousands of years, depend on fire to trigger regeneration and rebirth.

In 2009, so many of us experienced a different kind of fire that incinerated our finances if not our emotional well-being.  In the heat of the moment, these fires are brutally painful. But in the years to come, we will perceive the smoldering fires of 2009 as necessary means to a brilliant and beautiful future. Here are 3 reasons why…

1. New Direction

For so many of us, it feels like someone took a blowtorch to our savings and nest egg which are now smoldering remnants of what once was a healthy forest of assets. We can be pissed and bitter for so long but notice how the heat of those emotions, as they effect the pine cone, can also reveal within you new life, new freedom, a new path…so long as you get back on your feet and move the ball forward. S.I. Hayakawa said, “Notice the difference between what happens when a man says to himself, ‘I have failed three times,’ and what happens when he says, ‘I am a failure.’ ”

2. Enriched Life Experience

I couldn’t help but look at the above picture of the 13,000 year old Juropa Oak with reverence. For cryin’ out loud, the thing has been around since the Ice Age. There are a certain group of humans who you might say have a durability comparable to the ancient Juropa Oak. The Abkhasian* people of Central Asia routinely live into their 90’s and 100’s and often report only having been sick once in an entire lifetime. Part of their ability to live happily with great longevity is the fact that in their culture, one’s status increases with age. The elderly are seen as beautiful with silver hair and wrinkles being signs of wisdom and maturity. In the Abkhasian language, there is not a term for “old people.” Rather, they are referred to as “long-living people.” *

Things are much different in America where we tend to totally forget about our elders. Why? Compared to the Abkhasians, we have litte respect for life experience whether in the old, middle aged, or young.  Any hardship you have endured adds to your character, wisdom, and perspective. And anyone who knows their ass from their elbow will, like the Abkhasian, respect one who has been through hell and highwater. Helen Keller said, “Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.”

3. Stronger Relationships

The Vilcabamban* people of Ecuador’s Andes Mountains are another indigenous culture that is revered for its peoples’ ability to live happy lives deep into old age. One notable quality of the Vilcabambans…they don’t armor themselves against the pain of life and “they have not withdrawn from one another into shells.” They consider struggle to be part of the process. The Vilcabamban live in close-knit families and help one another through tough times. “Their spirits are connected to each other, their smiles all the deeper for all they have known and shared.”  *

Like the Vilcabamban, the 13,000 Juropa Oak is in essence more than one tree, it is a close family of trees having cloned itself many times over. And that family of trees, in spite of residing in over-populated over-polluted Southern California, lives on year after year. That is the most important lesson that we can learn from this ancient tree. To endure life successfully means not that you have avoided the greatest hardships and dodged the hottest fires. Rather, you’ve used those hardships and fires to make you stronger, to reveal new emotions, to deepen your roots, to enhance your relations.

*from HEALTHY AT 100 by John Robbins

Being my first week back teaching in Arizona, I’ve really tried to be hands on with my yoga students. Last week, I gave one student a nice adjustment in shoulder stand.

“How does that feel?” I asked as I lifted her ankles thus lengthening her spine.

She didn’t answer. I tried to be nurturing and said, “Feels good when it lengthens,  doesn’t it?”

She still didn’t answer and I assumed she was loving it.

Finishing the adjustment, I said to her in a fun and self-deprecating manner, “Some people just call me Rod.” Then, I rested her legs softly back on the ground.  It was an inside yoga thing, with my jokingly referring to myself as blind yoga master Rod Sorenstein of Northern Minnesota who supposedly has a magical (non-sexual) touch with his adjustments, except when he accidentally touches you in the wrong place. “Ah Rod, that’s not my hip…” Rumor has it crazy ol’ Rod really can see. But that’s for another Schtick.

Little did I know that calling myself “Rod” was a double entendre. Not until 20 minutes after class, as I was driving away from the studio, did I realize that my Flip video camera was in my front pocket rubbing against the lady’s thighs during that shoulder stand adjustment. It was too late. Rumor had it she ran out of the studio, leaving her mat behind, and muttering something about “Jewish men and their facocta tiny schmekels!!”

*****

The other day I heard Deepak Chopra on NPR. He was buzzing about his new iPhone App, and he made a very interesting comment. “Technology is part of our world and we have to embrace it.” I was sort of expecting a spiritual guru like Deepak (who I admire) to encourage less use of technology and question the overwhelming popularity of the smart phone.   Which furthered my confusion.

In 2010, you can rest assured, there will be a faster, smaller iPhone that can do anything anytime… and a sweeter Tweeter that can be updated subconsciously while you sleep…and a Google technology that will utilize a futuristic algorithm to search out your perfect lover. All of these things will enhance our lives in so many ways. But rest assured, someone will think twice about sitting in your lap if your crotch keeps making “chirping” sounds. And someone might just hesitate to give you a juicy yoga hug if that tiny protruding object in your jeans is ever the source of their confusion. Is that sacrifice really worth it? Because God knows there is no application, program, or gadget that can replace the warmth of embrace, the ahhhh of love, the inspiration of Contact.

Step by step, the fly picked up and cleaned its leg and then picked up and cleaned its other leg and did it again and again until it finally was free. My friend recalled how a creature which epitomizes filth and annoyance actually displayed a certain elegance and beauty in its resolve to survive. Which is just the thing we lost in America during the economic boom of the early 2000’s. We were gluttonous in our consumption, in our over-construction, in our values. There was no sense of beauty in our march toward success, wealth, and pleasure.

And now, so much has disappeared, so many homes, things, relationships. And many of us face the same predicament as the trapped fly. Those who freak out will further their trouble. But those who proceed with grace, dignity, and even elegance will most certainly recover and slowly but surely rediscover their wings.

Herein lies the question. If you’re halfway normal, you’re struggling, grinding, busting your butt to make ends meet. In such a state, who cares about beauty?! And how in the world can you possibly be elegant?!?! Following are 3 tips:

1. Service

“An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.” MLK

The same friend who told me the story about the fly told me that whenever he feels out of balance, anxious, and lacking, he plugs into the needs of his community and helps someone out. It’s his way of staying centered and putting everything into perspective.

2. Pride

“The only real elegance is in the mind; if you’ve got that, the rest really comes from it.” Diana Vreeland

One thing I’ve learned from my 91 year old grandma…whenever she leaves her retirement home, whether to go to breakfast or take a ride in the car, she always always always dresses up fancy in her scarves and slacks and coats and purses. This is not a matter of her clothes being expensive or inexpensive. Rather she has great pride in spite of her aging body and fading twilight. And no matter how broke, no matter how old, no matter how exhausted you might be, nobody has the right to your pride. Nobody!

3. Touch

Have you ever taken a yoga class and gotten a nice adjustment by the teacher? Or better yet, have you had a friend give you a little shoulder massage when you were really stressed? There is nothing more elegant, graceful, and wonderful than human touch. Like the most gorgeous dress or the most extravagant coat, a loving touch can take your breath away, cause time to stop, and if not for a moment, allow all worries to subside.

Like the trapped fly, take one graceful, firm, empowered step at a time. It might take months or years to recover. But if nothing else, let your recovery be filled with dignity.  As Gandhi once said, “I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their dirty feet.”

Should you be pondering having kids with your first cousin, the article mentions chances are slim your children will be born with genetic deformities common to incest such as spina bifida and cystic fibrosis. Thank God!  You don’t need to feel so badly about the fact that on Thanksgiving you asked your 28 year old cousin to sit on your lap while watching football at Granny’s house. Breathe a sigh of relief. This behavior is happening everywhere. Let go of the guilt you might have been feeling for adding a little tongue to your cousin’s holiday feast. According to the NY Times, you’re actually not a twisted, repulsive, redneck scumbag.

So many strange things happen during Thanksgiving. When around family, our darkest issues, fears, and doubts tend to erupt.  The tumult of puberty, thought to be extinct, rears its ugly head. Insecurities, thought to be locked away for good, bust loose. Is it so far-fetched in the swirling mess of emotion that is Thanksgiving dinner, one might just find their cousin to be attractive?

*****

Family-driven emotional chaos is not exclusive to Thanksgiving. Each and everyone us has a part of our being snagged in childhood. It’s called infantilism. Best described by Anais Nin, “We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”

So if you have lingering frustrations from last week’s familial Thanksgiving encounters, go easy on yourself. Hinder and shame that childish part of you, and it will act like the crankiest baby on the longest night. Embrace and nurture that part of you, and the fire of youth, while at times with a bite, nonetheless will forever burn bright.

For more twisted info with inspirational endings, check out my book Yeah Dave’s Guide to Livin’ the Moment