Kundalini @The Mall

ORGINALLY POSTED @  Indy Yogi

Mall Yoga: Kundalini and Gong at Lululemon

• by theyogarazzi
 
• March 19, 2015

Mall Yoga for Mall Yogis

At the local mall, fitness stores offer “complementary,” i.e. free, yoga classes. They feature local studios, popular teachers, and “brand ambassadors,” i.e. personalities chosen to create a buzz.  It’s not a trade secret that retail establishments hope participants will be sufficiently inspired after yoga practice to shop.  Conversely, participants hope the store will gift them free stuff, or at least snacks. Some do buy, and some resolutely do not. Anyone who rues the commodification of yoga is probably not there.

“Mall yogis,” to coin a term, mostly realize a free class is an advertisement for the brand. What they may not realize is that the class instructors are probably not getting paid. Occasionally, the instructors are offered clothing or a gift card. Frequently, they leave without any swag as these classes are pitched to the studios/instructors as a sweet marketing hook up, a way to introduce themselves.

Mall yogis show up weekly to these in-store classes. Some almost never practice anywhere else, and that’s okay.  These classes offer exposure to many instructors. Whether someone practices only in a mall or also in gyms and studios, nowhere is it as easy to sample so many instructors as at these in-store mall classes. Don’t forget that many yogis struggle with time, location, and money restraints.

No matter the mall or the store, there is usually a generic mall yoga template; an all-levels vinyasa class, heavy on cat/cow warm ups, sun salutes, and a crow or  pigeon accompanied by a popular play list, and not too much savasana.  Instructors may vary the template, but generally not by very much. Occasionally, there is pranayama or a meditation, less often a dharma talk, but not too complex. Yet, the class is enjoyable. It’s not likely the most serious or challenging class, but it lends itself to fun, ease, and camaraderie. It’s a good class to meet up with friends. The casual vibe and low pressure environment  make the experience non-intimidating.

Now for Something Completely Different

One Saturday last month, Diane Hancock, who teaches kundalini yoga every Sunday at Cityoga, garbed all in white, accompanied by her enormous gong, stepped to the front of the Indianapolis Lululemon store. The regulars expected a familiar version of the mall yoga class where a perky instructor, sporting malas or the latest store gear, cues them into down dog.

In a setting where people expect a physical workout, these mall yogis didn’t know they would spend most of the class in easy pose learning kundalini yoga. Maybe they hoped for energetic chatarungas to tone their abs and arms. Instead, they felt their abs and arms while vigorously breathing and chanting.

Diane capably and confidently introduced the class to kundalini yoga, a style not often encountered at the mall. In a clear, concise voice, she explained the meaning of Sanskrit chants, dristis, mudras, pranayama and the intent of the practices.  Early on, the energy was restless. People looked around uncertainly. The first movements and chants were hesitant. Diane never wavered in her confidence. As the class evolved, the energy changed. The mall yogis opened up to discovering breath and awareness in new ways.  A few still seemed a bit unnerved,  but most enjoyed the experience.

By the time Diane rolled out the gong, the mall yogis were ready to relax into the vibrations. The store acoustics were actually quite conducive to the sound. As the frequencies vibrated off the running jackets and spinning tanks, they were able to surrender to the deep waves of sound, and maybe find some peace before dashing off. The Lululemon educators appreciated the moment of calm before they turned on the lights and opened the doors.

Afterward, one mall yogi whispered disappointedly there was no “real yoga”in the class. Another announced happily she had never been to a yoga class that emphasized anything other than physical movement. Many approached to ask questions about kundalini yoga or share observations. Diane never doubted these mall yogis would appreciate exposure to any aspect of yoga, including kundalini.

Retail stores don’t discourage mall yogis from purchasing pricey yoga pants, it’s what they do. However, these in-store yoga classes can be experienced as more than marketing and shopping opportunities. For the instructor, the class template doesn’t have to be so generic. For the student, the class doesn’t have to be so predictable. A little kundalini gong with the vinyasa is a good thing, even at the mall.

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Photo By: Courtesy of Diane Hancock

Yoga Local

 ORGINALLY POSTED @  Indy Yogi

Indy, Support your Local Yoga Community!

• by theyogarazzi
 
• February 26, 2015
 

As a yoga enthusiast, I dig community. I love to hop around the local yoga scene, hitting major events and intimate classes. Yoga in Indy is both a big city with lots of little neighborhoods and a small town where everybody knows your name. There is the big Indy Community and smaller communities.

Back in the day, there were few teachers and fewer yoga studios. You didn’t have a lot of choices. Now Zionsville is becoming the Santa Monica of Indy. Once the gyms, CrossFit boxes, community centers, churches, and schools reach their limits on hosting yoga, classes will probably popup at the Super Targets.  Yet, there will still be yoga ghettos and vast swaths of population who will remain unaware of  yoga world. The yoga community is open and insular at the same time.

It’s easy to drop in almost anywhere. The odds are you will know the instructor and/or some of the students (many of whom are also yoga instructors). It’s like going to Cheers except you drag your bar stool around with you. Walk in, drop your mat, and you are at home.

Because you don’t actually have to know anyone to practice on your front porch mat, you can enjoy a solid practice anywhere. You don’t have to be afraid to roll without your besties. While it may be tough to play tennis without reassurance someone will return your serve, dropping into yoga is like  hooping at the gym or the park. You can always get buckets. While the courts are competitive, yoga is not supposed to be. It should be easier to throw down your mat when you aren’t worried about  throwing down. Plus, trash talking in yoga class is highly discouraged.

You can meet up with friends, run across friends, and meet new friends in the shared class experience. That’s community. What’s interesting about the pastiche of the community is that while you can see the same people at different times at different studios, you will still find some people that only go to one studio. This preference might be geographic, practice, or price driven,  but it might also reflect a teacher/vibe preference.  While an athletic yogi generally doesn’t prefer a devotional studio and vice versa, cross pollination does happen. For some yogis, their community is strictly the free community class. You may only see them at the weekend mall class, but it is as much a tight knit enclave as any studio or gym.

While you may only encounter certain yoga students at their singular space, you will almost certainly encounter the same instructors at many spaces. Somewhere, teaching yoga is wildly financially lucrative, but in this community, teachers must lead many classes in many places to garner any income. Wherever, you see a teacher, if he/she emits a friendly vibe and knows your name, the community becomes more accessible.

If you practiced yoga in a super metropolis, you could easily go to  one or many studios on a regular basis and remain totally anonymous to the instructor and other yogis in a mega class.  In this community, not so much. The connectivity of the community can be annoying and heartwarming. When you want to go here and not there, friends wonder why you didn’t go there with them or formally invite them here. When you go to one teacher’s class, another wonders why you didn’t/don’t come to “my” class.  (Sigh). Yet, it’s so nice to be welcomed, wanted, encouraged, appreciated, and missed. You just can’t get that from anonymity.

Perhaps our Indianapolis yoga community is less established and less sophisticated than others. Perhaps are numbers are smaller. Maybe our community has unique practices and quirky ways, but it is ours. Join  in my enthusiasm. Get to know the neighborhoods and be part of the big picture.  Participate in  community wide events like Monumental Yoga. Check out Indy Yogi and its calendar to stay in the community loop. Let’s support our community. Namaste.

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Mindfully Clueless

Like many yogis, I would like to be mindful. I would love to be awake and aware of WTF I'm doing. I'm not so good at that.

I regularly send packages to Malibu, Berkeley, and Portland. Recently, I sent a birthday gift to Portland and cursed the post office when the tracking showed the package bouncing from post office to post office before ending up back on my doorstep where I discovered I wrote the Berkeley address on the Portland label. When I checked the label before dropping the box into the bin, the address looked okay to me, but context is everything.

Last week, as is my habit, I stopped at the Starbucks on Mass Ave on my way to work.  It was about 8:30 a.m., and metered parking is required from 7:00 a.m.-9:00 p.m. Religiously, I put money in the parking machine for my space because I know how religiously the "Parking Ambassadors" sweep the street.  I can usually duck in and out quickly, but  unlike many patrons, I don't chance it.  25¢ is cheaper than $20 bucks, $40 if you procrastinate for more than 7 days.

The parking spots were filled with snow and ice. The car next to my spot had obviously been parked overnight. It was totally covered in snow.  I hoped the ambassadors wouldn't give tickets on a day like that,  but I wouldn't risk it.

I  was the only one in line at Starbucks. I ran out to see a man approach the car next to me and take out a snow scraper to begin clearing his car off. His windshield was still blanketed in white. My windshield had a parking ticket attached!

I knew I wasn't inside long enough for my spot to have expired. Indignantly, I punched the number to my parking spot, The Yogarazzi was going snap a pic of the remaining minutes except there were no minutes. Watching the man industriously sweep the snow from his car, I decided to punch his number. He had 4 minutes left from the time I had dropped in my quarter.

Snap! I put the money on the wrong parking spot. Because I wasn't sufficiently mindful, I suffered the fate I tried so hard to avoid--the $20 parking ticket.  While I chastised myself, the man finished clearing off his car and drove away. He was unaware he could have been $20 poorer or $40.00 if he was a procrastinator .

What a clueless Yogarazzi. Not only had I gotten myself a ticket by paying for the wrong spot, I hadn't even  thought to drop some coin on the other spot to save the overnighter a ticket. I did a "pay it forward" kind of act without knowing, let alone intending, to do so. I can't even get props for saving his ass. Mindfully, I decided to pay the ticket right away. $20 is a good act/lesson. $40 is a trip to remedial parking  mindfulness school.

#InstaYoga Like Nobody's Watching

Word on the street is that yoga isn't meant to be a spectator sport. One of my teachers likens the mat to a front porch and gently reminds the class to "stay on your porch." Yoga is an individual practice best accomplished without comparing ourselves to those around us.

What about Instagram yoga? Staying on the porch or strutting past the neighbor's porch? Full Disclosure: I post yoga pix. [See The (Papa)razzi Part]. I don't post Instagram pix in general and not "Instagram Yoga"" pix in particular--i.e. the OMG, circus-y, stylized, heavily hashtagged #thinhotchickinbikiniamazinginversionarmbalanceposeeverydamndayinexoticlocale30dayschallenge photos.

These photos are not actually selfies, unless the posers are so flexible they can snap the pose at its peak and remain intact. Mostly, they are amazing portraits of beautiful people looking young, thin, sexy, playful, hip, bendy, talented, coordinated, skilled, strong, and fit. People love these pix, seeing awe and finding inspiration, or hate them, seeing narcissism and finding inadequacy.

Is the Instayogi staying on the mat just capturing the practice and possibly the sense of discipline, accomplishment, and joy by putting it out there? Is she throwing shade on your mat ? Do you judge the pose, the person, and/or yourself?

When you look at a photograph, you can't always know the mind of its subject or the intent of its taker, but you can always take away something. Sometimes, you are getting the vibe and sometimes you are projecting. While I am capable of thinking "that bitch is totally dissing my body and my inversions" when I see a yogi with killer abs handstanding on The Eiffel Tower, I can also think "wow!"

Whether it's implied or inferred, when I see a circus pose hashtagged all to hell with #yogaeverydamnday, #strikeapose #30daychallenge #21daysofyoga  #poseaday #yogababe #yogabutt, #blahblahblah, I feel sad. This is coming from someone unafraid to bust a tag, and yet I sense lonely wistful, at times, desperate vibes.

Circling back to the metaphor, the Instayogi isn't tryna be a badass and step on your mat, she's trying to be affirmed. I feel it's not always a play for followers and free swag.  It's a variation of "if a tree falls in the forest...." It's often a fear that if you do a 30 day pose challenge on your porch, did you really do it if none of the neighbors saw. It's not a ploy for attention, it's a prayer to be seen. The more advanced the pose, the more true the affirmation?

Try the porch, Instayogi. Try a pose. Try a challenge. Try a practice. On your mat. See how it goes. Dance #InstaYoga like nobody's watching.

The (Papa)razzi Part

It's pretty ironic that The Yogarazzi blog has more words than pix. It's a real incentive for me to  work towards taking the training wheels off and moving to a more photo friendly place. I've found this joint very clunky overall and especially with images. I'm not actually a photographer; I only play one in yoga world, so there's that. I seriously started snapping iPhone yoga pix almost 5 years ago. Obviously, I'm a slow starter and a slow learner if I'm only now getting around this.

I broke my arm on the way to yoga. Don't freak out, yoga did not wreck my body, my clumsiness, a too heavy bag, and way high heeled boots wrecked my body. Anyway, I still went to yoga, but instead of practicing, I took a few pix. My iPhone 3 had a terrible camera. It was blurry and had no zoom.  I couldn't adjust for light, edit, or crop. Now my iPhone 5 allows me to do these things. I may not be good, but I'm so much better.

I  learned  it's usually best to practice on my mat and allow others to do the same in regular classes. Snapping yoga pix is better around yoga; before and after, when yogis are playing around, and at yoga events like yoga + something, fundraisers, and free classes where the vibe is light and fun and it's not so intrusive.  At serious workshops, it's a way to edify instruction.

Until I learn code and move up, I  have recent yoga pix on my Facebook  The Yogarazzi. I have 5ish years of yoga pix on my Facebook page, but they aren't that easily accessible. When I started, I herded the pix into albums so they could be viewed outside of grand kids, pets, vacations, Butler, and food porn. Somewhere along the way between Facebook  upgrades, I was unable to album. In typical procrastinating fashion, I have never gone back. My mobile upload album has 5000+ photos.

I hope to curate these photos and add them to the page so you can view a visual history of the Indy (as in Indianapolis) yoga scene. Over the years, I think my hair has mostly stayed the same color, but my weight has not.  Fortunately, The Yogarazzi is mostly not in the photos. For the ones where I might be, there's always photoshop once I learn it. For now, it's the mostly wordy Yogarazzi.

2010 photo

2015 photo