As you may or may not know, I began yoga teacher training a few weeks ago. This is part of an ongoing “plan” (I wish it were as organized as a plan) to diversify my income, learn more about yoga, give back to the yoga community I love so dearly, and get way more OkCupid responses (because seriously, dudes go nuts for yoga teachers… they think we’re super bendy.)
It was only on the first day of training that I realized, OMG, I’m going to be teaching beginners…. Somewhere along the line I had let this small fact slip away. I had envisioned myself designing killer sequences and deep, thought-provoking themes. I didn’t so much visualize the part where I’d be teaching people for whom “square hips” doesn’t mean anything, for whom “mountain pose” and “chair pose” are new concepts. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super pumped for the challenge, it’s just a different challenge than the one I’d been planning for in my head.
Part of training is observing other teachers as they teach the beginner sequence. In one such observation, I became supremely focused on one Barbie-like girl in the back who, in full make-up, was seriously struggling. Instead of feeling compassion or observing the teacher’s directions aimed at helping her, I felt a little thrill. It’s embarrassing, but sometimes when I see thin people struggle with exercise, I gloat.
As a non-thin person, I routinely face assumptions about my exercise habits that are patently false, and I’m regularly reminded about how little we can tell about someone’s fitness and wellness just by looking. So, this week for Role/Reboot, I wrote about my own struggle to be a little less judgmental, a little compassionate, and give the same benefit of the doubt to the skinnies as I expect given to to me.
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I refuse to link to Jen Caron’s terrible essay at xoJane about how tough it was for her, as a skinny white woman, to be in a yoga class with a large black woman. It’s awful on every level. You’ve probably already seen it because everyone and their mother is sharing it with hashtags like #gross and #stfu.
I love yoga. I love yoga so much I’m going to learn how to teach it so I can help other people love yoga. I think yoga is for everyone, and I think its emphasis on self-awareness, mindfulness, self-care, and gratitude is lovely and inclusive and accessible to any and all type of people. That’s why it kills me when people try to ruin yoga, which Caron attempted with a racist, presumptuous, condescending post about a woman new to her studio who appeared to be struggling with the postures. I’m getting mad just thinking about it.
If you would like to read more of my thoughts on Caron, yoga, inclusiveness, etc, check out my Role/Reboot piece this week:
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Inspired partially by an encounter with a cologne-model looking dude at a train station and the most recent episode of Shameless (in which Lip hooks up with a very sexy woman much larger than him), I wrote this week for Role/Reboot about what happens when “guys like that” like “girls like me.”
I’ve written about this before (as did everybody else) after the infamous Girls episode with Patrick Wilson.
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This week for Role/Reboot I wrote about Maria Kang (aka “What’s Your Excuse?” fitness mom), this phenomenal piece by a Karen Hitchcock, “Fat City,” and the challenge of holding two seemingly competing ideas in our heads at one time. I contend that obesity-is-a-crisis and body-shaming-is-n0t-helpful are not, actually, competing ideas, but two separate, related problems that need big, multi-faceted solutions.
I really appreciate this comment from the always on point Marianne Cassidy:
Reducing obesity and ending body shaming are not opposing or even parallel goals. They’re the same goal. They want the same things – a healthier, happier population. They can be achieved the same way – by encouraging people to take care of their bodies and giving them the education and resources they need to make informed healthy choices.
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This week for Role/Reboot I wrote about this:
I keep hearing the same chorus from moms writing about body image and aging, and it goes something like this: Man, I have been micromanaging my body for thirty years and I haven’t been able to stop. I really hope my daughters figure out a different way.
What kills me about it is that, obviously, we the daughters look to you the mothers as our first source of inspiration on how one should be with one’s body. Even if we eventually outgrow our reliance on that one source, it is the first, the most primal, the most difficult to shake.
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The line from that George Saunders piece I posted on Monday that’s really sticking with me is “Err on the side of kindness.” It seems so obvious, as far as life philosophies go, but the simplicity of it is blowing my mind. What a world that would be, eh, if we all agreed to live by that code?
Though he didn’t articulate it as such, I’m confident that Saunders would agree that kindness towards oneself is a key facet of this MO. My new piece for Role/Reboot this week is about body image and wellness, but I hope that the backdrop of self-love and self-kindness is apparent.
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This was a tough one for both structural and emotional reasons. A week ago, an ex of mine from many years ago posted on Facebook that he is HIV positive. His post included a long letter to his peers about knowing your status and living without shame. I reached out to him and he agreed to let me write about this for Role/Reboot. To read his whole note, head to YouTube, where he posted a video of himself taking his first dose of the antiretrovirals.
If you need help find a testing location, head here.
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