Monthly Archives: October 2007

Bait and Switch Yoga • 30 October 2007

Wow. Which yoga-consumer group sold my mailing address to “Yoga Pura” of Phoenix, Arizona? They want me to come to their teacher training, a “journey of a lifetime,” after I have asked myself the following questions.   Am I fearlessly committed to living happy now? Do I want to understand—really, really understand—the mysteries underlying yoga […]

Saturday XXIX • 27 October 2007

Thursday was the cursed full moon. Orange from the horrible ash of the horrible fires, but so beautiful for it. Like the summer moons back in Montana, when the dust from harvest hangs in the air for weeks. That day in the sculpture garden, pent up and tense, I passed a professor for whom I […]

This is What Democracy Looks Like • 26 October 2007

● In the Authoritarianism is Old School news category, an MIT professor has issued a manifesto against bloggers commenting on papers presented in the workshop he organizes. Because, you know, we wouldn’t want the people reading online about what happens behind closed ivory tower doors in Cambridge. Academics have "rights." Elitist. Welcome to information age, […]

Knowing, Being Known • 24 October 2007

Is practicing with someone intimate? You sweat with him, learn his breath, come to know the ways his energy changes and the ways it is constant across the days. So what? In a way, I’m tempted to take the “shala solipsist” position on this question. That whatever’s visible in someone’s practice has more to do […]

The Yoga/Hipster Problem • 22 October 2007

Dear Frustrated Young Men, I understand what you are saying, guys. You’re getting hooked up on with apparently normal females who ten minutes into dinner explain they “can’t have” the bread-oleo because of a gluten intolerance recently revealed by their “amazing,” ayurveda-savvy acupuncturists. And then it’s off into their narrative of the post-grad self-discovery […]

Saturday XXVIII • 21 October 2007

Night before last I dreamed Alastair Crowley was watching the Editor and me from a second-floor window across the street while we played with sea creatures in turquoise tidepools. Crowley was wearing a billowy black cape and trying to look scary, hunched over like the grim reaper. Poser. In the dream, I told the Editor, […]

Eaten By Ants • 17 October 2007

Tonight, during Prasarita D, I had an urge more intense and crazy than anything I’ve ever experienced on the mat. It struck, and filled me with restlessness all the way to the brink of giggles. I pictured myself following through on the urge and had to scurry out of the room to stop myself. It’s […]

Breakfast of Champions • 15 October 2007

The other day I called the great ashtanga tagline—do your practice and all is coming—a magical solvent for the removing of bullshit. Someone came around and said no, it is just a koan. Because really: practice and what is coming? Your baggage. All of it. To the surface. Your relationships – some of them. To […]

Saturday XXVII • 13 October 2007

Minimalism, recently. I’d say avant, but that would be obnoxious. AF moved into a sleek LeCorbusier this week. I keep accidentally imagining myself there. But the flights to Chas de G are just stupid, and I’m supposed to be doing what DJ (the dissertation journal) says. Reading My Paris as consolation (check it, U). With […]

Bad Hands • 10 October 2007

Had my blood drawn yesterday, as I do every few months. Went to the little window at the back of the clinic, to the phlebotomy man. Mr. S. He has soft grey hair, and his skin glows. He always seems so happy to see me and notes from the density of my forearms that I […]