The Unholy Yogi.

Lollipops & Razorblades.

“Fate fits karma so use it.  Thats what the wise man said to me.  Love fits virtue so hold on to the light.  That’s what our future will be.”

Yoga is one of the loves of my life, really it is.  The practice all in and of itself is one of deeper understanding of ones true self.  Whatever it is . . . usually the uglier side  that you don’t like to acknowledge, yoga will, like it or not, make you a better person.  Yoga also lets the inner beauty that is inherent shine through unbeknownst to you, it’s really quiet magical.  Being quiet, in stillness, with yourself, one becomes again. . .like it or not (I think most wouldn’t mind) a stronger person.  I have said before that my anxiety and inability to breathe brought me to yoga.  I was obsessed, I thought I had to sit in lotus wearing my tie dyed pants holding my mala and just be.  I thought I would be this yogi master in no time, how hard could this be? I was competitive and all . . .right.  Soon I had found out that checking my ego was a must, I was a baby learning to walk in this new world.  Funny thing though, most teachers have some of the most narcissistic and egotistical  personalities  that I have seen, c’mon now . .like, practice what you preach . . . I find myself thinking that a lot lately with yoga and the studio that I practice at.   I find myself comparing Yoga to the Catholic church a lot, very similar . . . you can basically fuck anything, say you’re sorry then everything is fine and forgotten.  This is just my experience.  People in general are fucked up . . . people that go to yoga are REALLY fucked up.

When I left my last relationship of 5 years and was back living with my father, I began my “journey”, yes yoga bullshit, but fitting. I decided that I was going to do a teacher training.  I was going goddamn it, to teach this practice, teach it to the world, I entered into this really interesting subculture. The people were very open with their feelings and they cried a lot.  I didn’t get it, I just wanted to learn how to sequence a class and get better at the physical practice.  NO, no it is not like that at all.  Teacher training is more for the walking wounded, the abused, the addicted, the molested, the ones with horrible eating disorders. . . the strippers, I was the only one I think.  You though get my gist, with this combination you get a shit load of drama, peoples fucking pain and all of their energy . . . too fucking much.  People are encouraged to “open up and let go” . . . “whatever comes up just let it go” . . .  don’t stuff it back down, you are having an emotional release”. Once people heard that there was such a thing (the emotional release) in yoga I think that everyone nearly had to have one. For some it was like that the whole entire training weekend.  You had to learn who to avoid  . . . they were the worst of the worst, the energy suckers.  This one girl, I swear that her only redeeming quality were her tits, she would sit near me and say the she wanted some of my good energy, constantly crying. . .needy ass bitch.  Whenever she was around me I got a horrible headache.  She was negative energy, I also didn’t feel terrible for her when she cried when her engagement was broken off.  If I were her boyfriend (and I am not cool with domestic violence at all) I would have punched a bitch . . . hard, fucking people.  There were three main teachers in my training two women and a man.  The man that I am going to talk about let’s see . . . lets call him “Siddhartha”, I know ridiculous, but the name that he goes by is very similar . . . I know. The moment that I laid eyes of Siddhartha I hated him . . .he reminded me of the disrespectful customers that would come into work and try to grab at your pussy and talk really gross. I thought that maybe I was just transferring my feelings, which I was, but not unwarranted, not by a long shot.  He was misogynistic, narcissistic and he was really hard on me on practice.  I think he wanted to put me in this shrinking box where anyone that appeared strong willed he wanted to break.  He had a thing for the weak, this mans following at the studio was unheard of.  Women were in love with him, he liked to play psychological mind games.  Much like a higher being, women would almost bow down, he was always there to “support” them, it was ok . . . they were in a “safe place” and “supported”.  Like I said much like church.  There is nothing worse then  a person that manipulates people when they are feeling like they are safe . . . it’s fucking vile.  That shit is not yoga.  In teacher training there is a code of ethics like anywhere else there happens to be a student/teacher relationship.  You are not suppose to fuck your students, I get it, it happens.  You most certainly are not suppose to fuck people in teacher training.   “Siddhartha” along with being  a yoga instructor spent many a years studying his scriptures in silence in an ashram.  This apparently gave him some insight on how to tell people how to live, he was some sort of a life coach.  He coerced one of his patients from his private practice, that this particular yoga teacher training was right for her.  She at the time was a single mother and a lesbian I will call her “SL”.  As the months went on and I just avoided “Siddhartha” as much as possible except in practice where he would always step mercifully on my hands and tell me always that I was sloppy and clean it up.  I just let my shit go for him, practicing acceptance that he was a  just a creeper and making my yoga practice better.  I thought that maybe it was me, lord knows I carry so much around from my job, and people from yoga are just fucking weird.  I was okay with him.

We were in our friday night sharing circle, which were just fucking horrendous  . . . from what I understand it is like what goes on in AA meeting, but worse.  Opening up and talking about the deepest darkest shit, with everyone staring at you and nobody interjecting, shit is gut wrenching.  One by one we go . . . then it is time for “SL” to speak, being that she went last it was already really late.  She opened up and said that she and “Siddhartha” had been having a sexual relationship and she was pregnant with his baby. . . WHAT THE FUCK!  My mouth, as well as everyone else’s was hanging open, the director of the studio was already aware of the situation and was just crying.  He apologized for his lack of maturity.  Really, she was sitting right there . . . in tears, he was cold and aloof, he didn’t give a shit.  He just wanked his shit wherever he wanted.  No real remorse.  Like a priest fucking little boys, sorry and it’s all okay. “Siddhartha” and “SL” had a baby boy, he still teaches at the studio, there was no real accountability taken for his actions.  I wanted yoga, I paid good money to learn how to sequence a fucking class.  But no I got nailed . . . I got nailed to the cross for something deemed so unholy.  I had an addiction problem one that needed to be addressed, it was compared to being as bad as heroin, I was so unbalanced and blocked. . . I had a sugar addiction.  I needed a detox, I needed macrobiotics to realign my yin and yang.  I needed a enlightenment intensive retreat to help me answer the question, “Who Am I” . . . are you fucking kidding me? . . . No apparently that is all that could be found that I needed to learn, nothing to do with my teaching ability or inability. . . just my sugar addicted energy and needing to go deeper inside.  How fucking unimportant . . . I wanted to teach yoga and all I got was this   . . . if you want to teach yoga just go do it.  Yoga is in all of us if we spend enough time sitting in the uncomfortably, letting it pass and moving on. I think I could have found that on my own for free.

-ApplejAxe

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~ by applejaxe on July 23, 2012.

2 Responses to “The Unholy Yogi.”

  1. I think I would have bailed after the first sharing circle. I had a high school teacher that tried to make us do sharing circles and was disappointed when no one opened up. Really? What high school kid wants to cry in front of their class?

    Sorry your yoga teacher training was, a less than stellar experience.

    • I hear you . . . it is in my nature to bail all of the time. So I thought that by me not doing so would be a good step. With that said, I did not know enough about yoga to know what would be a good training or not or at least right for me. I know now, and I move the fuck on 🙂

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