If you cannot spare time to read this whole thing, read this-
VOTE!!!
Vote like lives depend on it. Because they do. Vote like our daughters' access to reproductive health care is in jeopardy. Because it is. Vote like we will be catapulted back decades and decades if we don’t. Because we will. If any part of you wants to opt out of this process (I would be shocked if anyone on my mailing list does, but you never know), please reach out. I would love to understand why and have an opportunity to discuss the incredibly hard fought privilege the right to vote is. Rant over. 💙
I have spent a good portion of the last four years mad. Enraged, really. From the moment the election results came in in 2016 to the present moment, like so many of you, I have felt like we have been getting pummeled by trauma after trauma after trauma. And some way more than others. Marginalized communities have been hit harder, and those of us who are allies, have realized we must do more. It has been a lot, and, thank god or whoever, we have a practice to help us move through our feelings. My yoga practice, more than ever before, has become a sanctuary, a place of returning to Self over and over and over.
2020 has been a pinnacle of painful lessons, an undeniable and important time that has demanded we all show up. Yes, a shitstorm for sure, but one that has shined a light bright enough, with too many egregious examples of the disparity of justice in America, that it could no longer be denied. It is heartbreaking that it has taken so long. But we are all called to do our part.
I came across an Angela Davis quote this morning that hit me to my core-
“I have never used yoga as an end in itself but merely as a means to prepare myself for a more effective struggle.”
Yes.
A more effective struggle. This speaks to me.
These past few years have led me through some deep self inquiry as to my role, not just as human, but also as yoga teacher. A piece of me envies (not really) the “love and light” crowd, who continue to post pretty pictures of yoga poses, discuss asana and workouts, and continue to live their lives, seemingly uninterrupted, while communities suffer and black and brown people are murdered without consequence. This, of course, is me being in all of my ugly and fallible humanness, sitting in judgment of what I perceive to be either spiritual bypass or a comfortable opting out of the fight for justice. How can I know what other people are thinking and feeling? How do I know that away from social media they aren’t deep in activism or going through their own personal struggles? All I can see is what they project on social media. But I am flabbergasted when, in a time that has so many parallels to the rise of a dictator like Adolf Hitler, people do not use their platform to raise awareness and ring the bell from the highest hill that WE HAVE TO HELP AND PEOPLE ARE DYING.
Again, me in judgment. Me being human.
One of my most beloved teachers has, for the most part, been fairly quiet on matters of social justice. She is a true yogi - deeply committed to her own practice and teachings. She is sublime, ephemeral, talented, and, by all intents and purposes, her teachings transcend time and space. She truly may just live on a higher, or different, place than I. And I love her. The messages are there, but they are subtle. And I believe her.
My messages? Not subtle. Clear. Loud. Sometimes in your face. And, some would say, angry and aggressive.
But they are truthful. And they come from the most urgent, human place that wants to see kindness and truth and justice prevail. That may mean I check my manners and my cool at the door sometimes. When a woman is called aggressive or angry, a man is called confident and effective.
I can live with being called names. I cannot live with other people suffering as a result of my trying to be polite.
What has become clear to me is that my yoga, the way I teach and practice, is political. I am meant to live, not necessarily on a higher plane, but on one with boots (or barefeet) on the ground. That is where my work and practice lies.
As Angela Davis says, my yoga practice is preparing me for a more effective struggle. Throughout my life, from early years as a feisty young girl through years as a young woman lawyer to present day I have felt some pushback or judgment that I am “too angry” or “take things too personally.” I wear that as a badge of honor. What I say to that is HELL YES, I AM ANGRY. I absolutely take issues of inequity and injustice personally. Until all of us are free; none of us is free, remember? Opting out of the fight or being quiet in matters of oppression only helps the oppressor. Staying in my corner doesn’t work for me. For any of us.
Where RBG was restrained and methodical and patient, I can be confrontational and mad and loud. She had the patience of a saint, restraint of tongue, and more intelligence and fortitude than I can dream of. But we are both going the same direction. Our messages are the same (hers a thousand times more researched and eloquent, but the same). Her life and work paved the way for me, for all of us, to march forward in the way most authentic to all of us.
There is room for all of us. May we cheer one another along.
What is happening now is different than anything in our lifetime. I grew up with an uncle who was a right wing senator of a conservative state who called Dick Cheney a close friend. But, even then, I loved him. We could agree to disagree and still love each other. This administration is different and dangerous in a whole new way. Agreeing to disagree has no place in today’s politics. Not in this fight.
So I continue to practice and teach from my true and authentic place.
I will yell from the highest hill that people are dying and that we have to help. I will listen to opposing perspectives and challenge them respectfully. I understand my point of view was formed from a place of privilege, access to education, an ability to travel the world and be exposed to all sorts of ideas, places and people. I understand that and I truly do pray for peace and equity for all. I will not engage with racists and bigots, but I will volunteer as much time as I can to be sure we vote their ringleader out of office.
Truth, satya in sanskrit.
This is my truth.
Another truth is that I love you. That’s for sure.