Giving Credit

Recently after a discussion regarding intellectual property, someone mentioned that yoga, being thousands of years old, is in the public domain.  As the prevalence of meditation apps, trademarked “mindfulness” programs, and other corporately driven initiatives grows, so does my mixed feelings on the way we value the work of our yoga teachers, both ancient and currently living, and what impacts that will have on the future of yoga - and our individual paths.

After years in the music industry, along with time spent in roles as an advocate for the arts, I have a good understanding of the way that commerce (or capitalism) works when it comes to intellectual property and copyright law (although I hold no professional designation as a lawyer, just experience working with and for a lot of folks with intellectual property rights).  

Pre-covid I recall having conversations about instructors lifting sequences from other teachers, using delivery methods, cues and sayings without mentioning or crediting the person where they drew the inspiration from.  

I had a bunch of different thoughts when hearing these conversations (all of which I will revisit and revise later):

“Yoga is in the public domain”

“The teachings are the teachings, they all come from the same source” (oh so problematic!)

“Why would I need credit? My ego is not who I am.” (yeah thinking is a weird thing sometimes)

Although yoga is within the public domain, a certain high profile hot yoga teacher tried to get his sequence copyrighted which the courts deemed not possible to copyright - however they did find that “You can’t copyright an idea, but you can copyright the expression of that idea.” - meaning the words, images etc… (source is linked).

That last thought really got me thinking...

When COVID-19 made group activities including yoga a digitally rendered service (for the most part) the presence of digitally administered “mindfulness” seemed to be inescapable. At first glance you might think “How else am I going to practice if studios are closed - don’t you think it’s great that apps are offering mindfulness and meditation to folks no matter where they are.”  Looking only at the surface this seems like an amazing innovation, especially when apps are free (or a combination of free and paid) but in my opinion there is an underlying cost - and it comes at the expense of the teacher.  The teacher is the one creating the words and images that I (again - not a lawyer) would argue IS likely copyrightable.

“But isn’t yoga a spiritual practice disinterested in material wealth?”

“But aren’t yoga teachers traditionally teaching yoga for free?  Don’t real yoga teachers go unpaid”

“But on the spiritual path, aren’t we aiming to let go of our need for acknowledgement?”

If you said those things I think you would be correct - but the reality remains that where I teach, where the revenue of apps go to, are capitalist societies that do not support the traditional ways of teaching (or practicing) that are founded on a donations based infrastructure established by the surrounding community.  Teachers are only able to clothe, shelter and feed themselves from the money that comes from their teaching (and in most cases this isn’t even enough to support them outright.  Most teachers are able to support them or they have jobs that take care of their basic needs because it’s the only way they’re able to teach and meet their needs - myself included). (Source Linked)

A free meditation website came to my attention via an influx of supportive students asking me to add my voice to their app based library of meditations.  I had some work pre-recorded so I went to the app to see what the deal was (ever aware of my prior experiences as a musician with IP rights…) I was shocked when the app declared the “non-exclusive right to use and make derivative works without credit or payment in perpetuity”.  Basically, give us your work and we’ll take it, do what we like with it and you get “exposure” (not entirely sure how that works given that in-theory they can make derivatives without compensation but I digress…).  Nevermind that part of being a teacher is being a perpetual student… something you’re required to pay for to access training and teachers in the system of capitalism.  Nevermind that you’ve paid for equipment to allow you to record yourself (whether it’s a phone or a computer - it requires a healthy dose of financial privilege to be able to afford these tools).  Not to mention the app decides in this instance that it deserves to get paid for that content but not the person that made it.

“freely giving it to a company to use it for what it wants to make money… an aim not on the spiritual path… just doesn’t sit right with me”

Also… yoga isn’t really ours to give to these corporations.  I’m not of the culture of yoga - this practice came from people of colour, it’s a major part of a culture that still exists to this day.  So freely giving it to a company to use it for what it wants to make money… an aim not on the spiritual path… just doesn’t sit right with me (but I’m not saying that’s reason enough to agree with me - you have your own reasons).

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but I’m reluctant to apply this to the current climate of yoga. 

I couldn’t help but come back to that question “Why would I need credit? My ego is not who I am.”  For me at least, I think likely if you don’t get credit, someone else will.

“leaving room for folks to take credit - and therefore control - the resources and the practice itself is a potential impact I think is good to be aware of.”

As a younger teacher I didn’t totally understand this. I taught concepts that I learned without referencing the source, I drew inspiration without necessarily pointing to where it came from.  This is not only racist when it comes to profiting from the labour of IBPOC, but leaving room for folks to take credit - and therefore control - the resources and the practice itself is a potential impact I think is good to be aware of.  

Maybe this is my own 2020 echo chamber - but in noticing the monetization of an industry (again industry applying to a spiritual tradition is just super weird) worth in excess of $85 Billion and looking around at local establishments and independent teachers like myself talk openly about the financial hardships they endure, I wonder how this fiscal pressure edits yoga down into what sells versus what it is - a multigenerational spiritual tradition that has a physical component.

More plainly - this lack of credit is a form of plagiarism.  In the case of the apps, this plagiarism is at least in theory consented to (depending on whether or not you read the fine print before uploading…).   If teachers are mimicking without crediting or citing, without reflecting or considering (as I once did), in a society in the midst of a raised awareness of how implicit bias oppresses many so few may flourish I wonder if this commonplace practice of not crediting benefits mostly teachers of privilege able to navigate an industry.

Asteya or non-stealing is part of the Yamas, a set of ethical principles that are on the yogic path from Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. As yoga is a path to liberation from suffering, the sutras say

33. When the idea of stealing comes, non-stealing should be thought of.

In the case of not crediting, not paying for, not giving back to -- aren’t we also not being  truthful (Satya, a Niyama - or virtue meaning Truthfulness from the same scripture)? Aren’t we also allowing the illusion that you did it yourself to persist? What i’ve noticed is with repetition your ego starts to believe that what’s not yours actually is. 

In line with the verse above, what if when we’re inspired to take someone’s influence into our work, why not practice giving back to that person?  Why don’t we foster our own community by giving back to it?

Why not give credit, payment, support etc… ?  

Why not remind our egos of their place? (even when we DO get credit we are caretakers and guides — not owners of yoga)

Why not support another teacher’s teaching if they’re inspiring you? 

Myself,  I realize that my fears of “not being enough” clouded the issue, my willingness to further suffering by not getting or giving credit or pay to folks who have influenced me.  Regardless of what your answers are, it’s good to examine and reflect on why you do or don’t do things when it comes to your practice on and off the mat.

So if you’re not giving credit, pay, or support to the folks who support your teaching, ask yourself why and see what comes up.  

(Please don’t substitute my opinions for your own.  My own opinions and teachings evolve over time as I also learn, unlearn and grow. I offer this as critical thought but I do ask if you are inspired by me and get paid to be - give me a shout out, k?).

Examining Anger and Criticism in Yoga

Photo: Daniel Baylis

Arbitrary Perceptions of “Negativity”

“My dear friend, I may be the victim of wrong perceptions, and what I write here may not reflect the truth. However, this is my experience of the situation. This is what I really feel in my heart. If there is anything wrong in what I write, let us sit down and look into it together”

― Thich Nhat Hanh

I overheard a conversation between two teachers at a yoga studio early into my teaching days.  I forget the context of the conversation but one was clearly mad at the other about a critique of some kind.  They veiled their anger under thick flowery language like wolves in sheep’s soft downy clothing but it didn’t stop them from making biting remarks.  One of them didn’t like the other one’s “energy,” the other didn’t “feel” that her language was “yogic.” They spent about 5 minutes hurling Patanjali and Buddha at one another, which only increased the tension.  I don’t know why they felt so compelled to try to disguise their anger and criticisms of eachother… but I walked away with the feeling that they wanted their calm to seem impenetrable… even if it was an illusion. 

This passive aggressive tendency is a pattern that’s revealed itself to me over my years of teaching and I wonder why it is that we think that keeping our anger out of plain sight makes us any more calm, or any more enlightened.   What I notice is at large, the yoga community arbitrarily will encourage unpleasant sensations like crying (it’s healing!), laughing (it’s releasing!), sadness (it’s a part of life!) I find it so interesting that yoga spaces in the west will make space for anything… unless it’s considered “negative” - like anger, criticism or plain ol’ not feeling positive or happy.  

Negativity has become a yoga taboo.  We’ve banished it as something to be “avoided”, “controlled”, “weak minded” or something that just makes us less than. The truth is we will encounter anger on the spiritual path.  We’ll have times where we’re criticized in life. When we label things like anger, criticism as negative without fully considering their value or purpose we don’t give ourselves the opportunity to learn from them.   So let’s examine them…

Anger

“When anger manifests in us, we must recognize and accept that anger is there and that it needs to be tended to. At this moment we are advised not to say anything, not to do anything out of anger. We immediately return to ourselves and invite the energy of mindfulness to manifest also,”

― Thich Nhat Hanh

Omitting anger from yoga spaces has lead to niche practices where angry yogis are encouraged to yell, swear, and scream their way to peace.  While there’s a place for this practice in the yoga sphere, I wonder if anger need not be siloed out of sight in separate classes. If we can make space to be ok with feeling or being present around anger (instead of shoving it aside or identifying with it) we might learn why being around this emotion makes us so uncomfortable.

Anger, like all emotions, is trying to draw something to attention.  As it relates to modern chakra and energy theory, anger is associated with fire. This comes up in our physical experience of anger (“hot under the collar”), our awareness by shedding light on what we need to work through, and getting us to act (“lighting a fire under our asses”), and then using anger to get us to change or transform out of our current situation (so we can let our anger go).

When we don’t acknowledge when something makes us angry - we’ll get stuck in our anger, identify with it, and in turn allow it to burn in the background eating away at us.  We’re not “angry people” for feeling angry - we’re people experiencing anger for a time. Once anger has shown us where to move to, what we might need to work through, and act accordingly. While it’s true we need to let anger go so it doesn’t cause harm, we can’t rush ourselves or others to the “let go” stage. It needs to happen in its own time. While it’s important in some cases not to act from a place of anger, eventually - like anything we accumulate, we’ll need to deal with it.  If we’re taught to avoid, we’re not going to deal.

I wonder if in the case of the yoga teachers above, if one of those teachers had acknowledged it - “Hey when you do x that really makes me angry because…” what kind of common ground or greater understanding they might have gotten to instead of seeing this emotion as making them a lesser yogi. Just because you feel angry sometimes, doesn’t make you an angry yogi!

Criticism

“Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things.”

– Winston Churchill

For my purposes here I’m defining criticism as “the analysis and judgment of the merits and faults of a literary or artistic work”.

A recent trend against criticism I’ve noticed in the teaching community is that there is “no wrong way to teach yoga.”  Well… sorry I would have to disagree. If your students can’t understand your directions, aren’t safe or don’t meet your students where they’re at - that’s not the way to teach them. A much more accurate statement is “there are many ways to teach yoga” or that “there are as many paths to yoga as there are practitioners” or that “there is no perfect teacher”.  Critique allows us to improve as teachers by seeing our teaching or practice from a different perspective.

As teachers, we are community leaders and we have to be open to what members of our community have to say in order to serve them. Shutting down criticism is closing off to a whole lot of opportunity to learn and improve by engaging in this dialogue and learning what communities need. Not to mention as teachers we command a certain level of power while leading a class and absolutely that power should get checked often and openly. While I approach teaching yoga as a highly subjective, personal, and practical artform - I realise that not unlike any art, taking a critical look at yoga will help you better understand it, yourself and your way of relating to it just by looking at it from someone else’s perspective.

That perspective shift doesn’t just apply to teachers either - I would highly encourage students to engage in critical thought in any yoga class to gain a bigger perspective.  Instead of ending your questioning at “I don’t agree with this that or the other” or “that doesn’t serve me” see what happens when you delve deeper into “why.”  Blindly following any teacher will leave you vulnerable to their limitations - you’re your own best teacher when you critique, reflect and question to gain a higher perspective and awareness of yourself.  

In offering criticism, remember that your perspective is not an absolute either. Critique itself doesn’t make one party wrong and the other right but it can be a means of checking in on the perspective that you hold.  Not necessarily identifying with what you’ve found - meaning you’re are not your flaws, mistakes or shortcomings. They’re a part of your story but not necessarily definitions of who you are. What do you as a result of becoming aware of your perceptions, limits and flaws - that’s a different opportunity for growth. Inoffering criticism you open yourself to it as well - which is of equal value to you as the one who you’re offering it to.

Criticism, and open questioning has been a common theme in traditional yoga dialogues - and I’m not saying that traditional is necessarily best but I am saying that questioning has endured for a reason - I believe that reason to be that it has allowed yoga to evolve.  Questioning alignment in poses started as a criticism, questioning accepted philosophies started as a criticism. Different opinions aren’t bad - they’re just different. Let’s aspire to hold space for them.

Summary

What is it that we gain from keeping criticisms at bay and putting anger under siege?  Is it the feeling that yoga is a cure-all from discomfort? Does it allow us to hold to an unchecked power for our egos?  Are we afraid of the potential of anger to harm absolutely? I wonder if instead of avoiding or judging our anger and critical thoughts, if we used them as an opportunity to grow and transform what would we be able to gain?

What do you think? Do anger and criticism have a place in yoga spaces?

Observing your Teacher and why their social media account doesn't matter as much as you think.

Recently, I had a teacher deliver an unintentional lecture on the guru / pupil relationship and the inherent flaws in upholding this multi-generational practice of modern yoga.  The lecture concluded with cautionary tales of what the latest disciplines had descended into the likes of dangerous cults.  

It's been no secret that yoga has had its fair share of controversies in these dynamics.  There are countless accounts of yoga-teachers-turned-yoga-criminals and well documented instances of the awakened leaders spiritually licensing themselves into massive corruption and dangerous acts (like in the Netflix documentary, Wild Wild Country on the rise and fall of Osho and his cult of disciples).

I've personally bore witness to a few accounts of abuses of power within the yoga class including racist commentary, unwanted touch that led to injury of my own body, and behaviour of teachers off the mat that made me question whether or not they actually practiced what they preached or were simply on a quest to be powerful in some respect of their lives.  I've fallen prey myself in my own enforcement of late policies until a student made it known that from the outside it seemed unnecessarily harsh (I'm not perfect).  All this to say that my bullshit radar (both of my own behaviour and others) has been markedly improved over the years as a result of dedicated focus and an unwavering interest in critical reflection and actively deciding to seek out another course of action.

After all the whole idea of yoga is union - not hierarchy, freedom - not dependence, discernment - not blind agreeability.

Despite the marketing of yoga teachers as "special" creatures that have elevated themselves to near-heaven-on-earth perceptions on their instagram accounts and in class poetry reads that doesn't make them anything more or less than humans.  After all the whole idea of yoga is union - not hierarchy, freedom - not dependence, discernment - not blind agreeability. All this questioning is a part of the process despite yoga's marketing as a panacea for self-help, fitness and wellness adjunct to the sales of kombucha, matcha, and t-shirts touting one's ability to wish themselves into a mermaid. (No judgements if you're into becoming a mermaid.. I like my legs just fine, though).  This narrative only emphasizes yoga as a method for self-advancement instead of a practice of self-connection which further muddies the waters in how to identify a teacher in service to their students instead of a teacher in service to their self-image. (Honestly - this could be a whole different post in an of itself...)

If yoga has taught me anything, it's that for every piece of light there is a shadow - and this might just be a shadow of becoming a powerful teacher.

Here is what I've learned in the quest of not only examining my own conduct in class but also from the wisdom of teachers more experienced.

Questions I now ask myself in evaluating teachers patterns of behaviour as well as my own:

1. Do the other practitioners in class seem balanced?
   • Is there worship of the teacher amongst their students?  Is this adoration encouraged by the teacher?
   • Do students rationalize behaviour of the teacher in a "they could do no wrong" manner?
   • Does the teacher encourage dependency on them to deliver yoga / spiritual advice?
   • Does the teacher encourage pain as gain?
   • Does the teacher emphasize a narrative that they know students bodies better than the students do?
2. Does the teacher have good boundaries?
   • If you tell them no, do they undermine your answer with negotiating? Do they undermine other no's like attempting handstands or headstands when a student is hesitant?
   • Does the teacher actively tell you what to think?  How do they react when questioned? 
   • Do they engage in name calling or belittling of students practices?
   • Do they assert that they hold the answers even though the questions are outside the boundaries of a yoga practice?
   • Are they more concerned with the aesthetics of any given pose rather than the benefit to the practitioner? (i.e. forcing "fuller" expressions)
3. Is the teacher open to student feedback?
   • Are students that question the teacher asked not to come back to class?
   • Are students that question the teacher belittled?
   • Does the teacher remain open to student's experiences?  (i.e. if you were able to tell a teacher that something made you uncomfortable - how do they react?)
4. What does your gut say?
   • Do they make you uncomfortable?
   • Is their a climate of punishment / reward amongst students?
   • Are there sales pitches in lieu of answering straightforward questions?
   • Do they take credit for your accomplishments on the mat? Spiritually?

Information that doesn't really matter - but outside influence might tell you that it does:

1. How physically flexible / fit / attractive your teacher is.
2. How rich or popular your teacher is.
3. Whether or not your teacher owns a studio.
4. How many instagram followers your teacher has.
5. How many lifestyle brand sponsorships your teacher has.

Remember...

Although instagram, popularity, and clout in a yoga community might be a flagpole to draw people into the practice of yoga, authenticity and selfless service are really what a teaching practice is about.  Questioning a teacher is an important part of that teacher's growth as much as for the growth of the student. If critical thought and discernment aren't welcome - what education can you receive?  What kind of growth will a teacher make over time without challenge or prompting from a student?

What ultimately makes a teacher is students.  If no one shows up to be taught the teacher isn't made.  Who you practice with will ultimately mold your practice - be selective in your teachers.  Spend time in their classes and get to know them before entrusting them with influence on your yoga practice.  As always - if something trips your radar that isn't listed in this post - listen to your intuition.  If it doesn't feel right, it might just be wrong.

Feeding Savasana: Are teachers and studios spiritually licensing photographs?

I remember vividly my early days practicing yoga.  I had a close family member taking a downward turn in health with a chronic illness that found me identifying with many roles that required I keep my shit together at all times... working professional in a fast paced environment, competitive recreational athlete, emotional support for the primary caregiver of my family member.  I was stressed but I kept my shit together. I would do yoga primarily for stress relief (and hey who doesn't like to de-stress while cross training).

I would sweat and grunt my way through awkward movements.  My normally stoic facial expression contorted much like my tense and tight physique into strange and unusual shapes - but it was cool, I was anonymous.  None of my friends or colleagues were into this "hippy shit "- I could really let my hair down without fear of running into a colleague during my "me time" unlike when I would go to the gym.  I was uninterrupted by the lure of my ever present smart phone - part of the appeal of the whole exercise.

At the end of our hour and a half together I remember the windowless room lulling into a pitch black darkness with only a small ray of light entering through the door.  The teacher would coo about the importance of corpse pose to integrate the work we've done in our bodies encouraging us to be as still as possible to really let it all sink in.  I would squirm because I knew as soon as the stillness came the tidal wave would hit - an uncontrollable urge to cry.   I wasn't a cryer in my mind - but after a while... damn if it didn't feel good to finally not have to keep it all together for everyone else all the time.  No one else knew because they couldn't see it.  I could let it all go because I had that time, that space to do it.  My environment had given me permission.

Studios and teachers alike make such great efforts not only to market the experience of yoga but also to create that environment that give us that permission to experience the "let go." We usually don't allow our students to bring cell phones into classes let alone film their yoga practice for their instagram feeds.  We ask permission before giving a hands on assist.  We do our best to create a sanctuary for whatever their individual needs are, whether that's sweaty drips or teary ones. Why can't we then as teachers let go of our need to create content for that hour?  Why don't we afford our students the ability to opt-out of mid class live streams?  Does our need to hustle and market the yoga practices we deliver supersede our students needs for space and privacy in our public classes?  Have we as yoga teachers spiritually licensed ourselves to make exceptions to our own actions?  Do we need to add a line about "we reserve the right to film your savasana and use it for our promotional purposes" in our studio waivers?

Often when I have casual conversations about it, it's met with the pressures that studios and teachers feel they need to market themselves 24/7, that the ends of having more people practice justify the means of posting pictures of people without their permission or simply the question of "no one can tell who they are, they're just people lying down". Our cultural obsession with the virtual reality and how it acknowledges and validates us has lessened our focus on the reality happening right in front of us - Every student's individual experience.  We don't know when we snap that pic what is underneath the surface of those flaked out bods just as we don't know what's underneath the surface when we go do adjust someone's shoulders.  Could be years of traumatic experiences and injuries, could be a passing low moment at the end of a hard day, could be that they would love a photo as acknowledgement of their hard work in class.  The fact of the question remains, are we creating a sanctuary for them to feel safe inside our space or are we spiritually licensing ourselves to make the call use their private moments for our own motives?  Do our intentions as teachers and online presences line up with those of our subjects and students?

What do you think? Are we given permission to our students or are we taking permission for ourselves?  Is it necessary to self-identify as having permission to post to create that space in the online reality too? How do you go about this?