I’ve practiced yoga for thousands
of hours. I’ve taught outdoors in parks and on rooftops, and indoors in living
rooms, lounges, classrooms, dance halls, yoga studios, and occasionally in the
session rooms at academic conferences. Yoga has been this thing in the
periphery of my professional life. But every time I teach a class I witness a
palpable shift in the room, a sense of calm that sweeps in and through, from
beginning to end. I used to think my yoga practice was more tangential to my
work, but upon reflection I realize that is not the case. Being in my body, and
connected through yoga and meditation reveals an inner potency and respect of
self. Yoga is a way for me to remember that I am just not a brain on a stick.
Professionals wear many hats. I’m a scholar, author, researcher, editor, educator, analyst, speaker, evaluator, advisor, collaborator, investigator, advocate, and consultant. I’m also a yoga instructor. In addition to my advanced degree in social science, I’ve logged more than 300 hours of formal yoga training and taught more than 400 hours of public classes.
Yoga, derived from the Sanskrit root “yuj” means “yoke” or “union.” The practice uses a variety of movements, breathing exercises, meditation, and relaxation techniques to help the practitioner achieve union (balance) between the mind, body, and spirit. Although yoga can be traced back thousands of years, modern yoga has morphed into a variety of new styles that incorporate classical and contemporary philosophies and methods. It may be practiced as a form of religion, lifestyle, leisure, or fitness. Americans spend $6 billion a year on yoga classes, equipment, clothing, workshops, videos, books, and more. Yoga has become so popular as a health modality, with about 17 million practitioners in the United States alone, that doctors are starting to recommend yoga to their patients to improve health and enhance allopathic medicine.
Yoga, derived from the Sanskrit root “yuj” means “yoke” or “union.” The practice uses a variety of movements, breathing exercises, meditation, and relaxation techniques to help the practitioner achieve union (balance) between the mind, body, and spirit. Although yoga can be traced back thousands of years, modern yoga has morphed into a variety of new styles that incorporate classical and contemporary philosophies and methods. It may be practiced as a form of religion, lifestyle, leisure, or fitness. Americans spend $6 billion a year on yoga classes, equipment, clothing, workshops, videos, books, and more. Yoga has become so popular as a health modality, with about 17 million practitioners in the United States alone, that doctors are starting to recommend yoga to their patients to improve health and enhance allopathic medicine.
Many modern practitioners (70 percent of whom
are women) do yoga specifically to improve their health. I started practicing
more than 15 years ago for that same reason. Since then, yoga has become more
than a pastime for me. It is the singular item I resist from crossing off my
ever-expanding “to-do” list. It is the activity I seek out within the nooks and
crannies of passing time. Yoga gives me a chance to breathe, to balance in
perilous positions, to stand on my head and quite literally experience the
world from a different perspective. Yoga calms me down; it helps keep me sane.
Yoga informs my being, my living, and my work.
I’ve practiced yoga for thousands of hours. I’ve taught outdoors in parks and on rooftops, and indoors in living rooms, lounges, classrooms, dance halls, yoga studios, and occasionally in the session rooms at academic conferences. Yoga has been this thing in the periphery of my professional life. But every time I teach a class I witness a palpable shift in the room, a sense of calm that sweeps in and through, from beginning to end.
I used to think my yoga practice was more tangential to my work, but upon reflection I realize that is not the case. I now see that yoga is also a body project that has the potential to engage feminism and inspire feminist consciousness. It is neither a necessary condition nor a guaranteed outcome. But the body has long been the beating heart of copious feminist work.
Feminist Theory and the Body
I’ve practiced yoga for thousands of hours. I’ve taught outdoors in parks and on rooftops, and indoors in living rooms, lounges, classrooms, dance halls, yoga studios, and occasionally in the session rooms at academic conferences. Yoga has been this thing in the periphery of my professional life. But every time I teach a class I witness a palpable shift in the room, a sense of calm that sweeps in and through, from beginning to end.
I used to think my yoga practice was more tangential to my work, but upon reflection I realize that is not the case. I now see that yoga is also a body project that has the potential to engage feminism and inspire feminist consciousness. It is neither a necessary condition nor a guaranteed outcome. But the body has long been the beating heart of copious feminist work.
Feminist Theory and the Body
Early western feminists didn’t always consider the body to be
central to women’s empowerment. Women have been equated with the body (not the
mind) throughout history, and this helped to justify the treatment of women as
property, objects, and commodities. Some feminists therefore believed that
equality between men and women rested upon the notion that rationality
(reasoning) was the universal human capacity that could render neutral the
seemingly fundamental biological differences that promoted gender inequality.
Simone De Beauvoir’ radical exploration of such inequality in The Second Sex brought the relation between the body and
the self to the center of feminist theorizing. Unlike the history of (dualist)
western intellectual tradition in which the body was absent or dismissed as
irrelevant, feminism’s second
wave argued that the body matters; materially, discursively,
performatively, and phenomenologically.
Corporeality is entangled in culture and biology, meaning and substance, identity and lived experience, mind and matter. Yoga can be a window into these varied dimensions of feminist conceptualization.
Corporeality is entangled in culture and biology, meaning and substance, identity and lived experience, mind and matter. Yoga can be a window into these varied dimensions of feminist conceptualization.
Culture and Biology:
Yoga provides an opportunity to participate in an ancient, though modified,
cultural tradition while experiencing the rhythm of life through the
synchronization of breath and movement.
Meaning and Substance: As the body breathes and energy flows, mindful attention to the positioning of the body in physical space (in the shape of a cobra, an eagle, a triangle, a wheel, a warrior, a mountain, a corpse) allows awareness of oneself, as corporeal and beyond the body, to surface.
An actor and an observer at the same time, a yoga practitioner may become aware that sensory activities give rise to perceptions and judgments that may be based in reason (e.g., pulling weeds all weekend contracted my shoulders, limiting my range of motion) or may transcend both reason and experience (e.g., I’m not strong). Through the practice, we can learn that perception is not purely sensation; nor is it purely interpretation. Consciousness is a process that includes sensing as well as reasoning.
Identity and Lived Experience: Practicing yoga with others perhaps inches away and planted, firmly or precariously, on their own plot of imagined earth (often delineated by a 2’ x 6’ sticky mat) places the individual in relation, in an orchestrated flow of energy and motion. Unlike many social interactions we simultaneously experience ourselves with, and apart from, others. On a level we know, too, that we are an element of their perceptions just as they are a component of ours.
Mind and Matter: With regular practice, yogis may experience equanimity: a perfect, unshakable balance of mind. Researchers at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston define it as “an even-minded mental state or dispositional tendency toward all experiences or objects, regardless of their origin or their affective valence (pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral).” It is the essence of well-being, the foundation for clarity, neutrality, and insight.
Why does the mind-body-spirit of yoga matter for feminism?
Meaning and Substance: As the body breathes and energy flows, mindful attention to the positioning of the body in physical space (in the shape of a cobra, an eagle, a triangle, a wheel, a warrior, a mountain, a corpse) allows awareness of oneself, as corporeal and beyond the body, to surface.
An actor and an observer at the same time, a yoga practitioner may become aware that sensory activities give rise to perceptions and judgments that may be based in reason (e.g., pulling weeds all weekend contracted my shoulders, limiting my range of motion) or may transcend both reason and experience (e.g., I’m not strong). Through the practice, we can learn that perception is not purely sensation; nor is it purely interpretation. Consciousness is a process that includes sensing as well as reasoning.
Identity and Lived Experience: Practicing yoga with others perhaps inches away and planted, firmly or precariously, on their own plot of imagined earth (often delineated by a 2’ x 6’ sticky mat) places the individual in relation, in an orchestrated flow of energy and motion. Unlike many social interactions we simultaneously experience ourselves with, and apart from, others. On a level we know, too, that we are an element of their perceptions just as they are a component of ours.
Mind and Matter: With regular practice, yogis may experience equanimity: a perfect, unshakable balance of mind. Researchers at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston define it as “an even-minded mental state or dispositional tendency toward all experiences or objects, regardless of their origin or their affective valence (pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral).” It is the essence of well-being, the foundation for clarity, neutrality, and insight.
Why does the mind-body-spirit of yoga matter for feminism?
Much of feminist organizing focuses on
informational empowerment and structural change to improve human conditions.
This is vital. Yet the body still matters. It is a source of meaning, identity,
empowerment, and connection. It is part of life. It is life. Yet, the body is
judged, controlled, politicized, medicalized, contaminated, and abused. The
body is objectified, commodified, marked in accord with perceived social value,
and exploited for its labor. The body remains a site of inequality and
therefore must remain a feminist project.
For me, yoga is a way to remember that I am not
a brain on a stick. Being in my body, and connected through yoga and meditation
reveals an inner potency and respect of self. I am strong yet vulnerable. I am
in my body, of my body, and beyond my body. And when I find equanimity in my
yoga practice, the unity of mind-body-spirit provides healthy fodder for my
feminist work and the life I want to live.
Additional Resources:
Additional Resources:
·
“Feminist Perspectives on
the Body” by Kathleen Lennon, The
Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2014 Edition)
·
Gendered Bodies: Feminist
Perspectives by Judith Lorber and Lisa Jean Moore
·
Embodied
Resistance: Challenging the Norms, Breaking the Rules by Chris
Bobel and Samantha Kwan (editors)
·
Missing Bodies: The
Politics of Visibility by Monica Casper and Lisa Jean Moore
·
21st Century Yoga:
Culture, Politics, and Practice by Carol Horton and Roseanne
Harvey (editors)
·
Sexing the Body: Gender,
Politics, and the Construction of Sexuality by Ann Fausto Sterling
·
The Male Body: A New Look
at Public and Private by Susan Bordo
·
Feminist Theory and the
Body: A Reader by Janet Price and Margrit Shildrick
Originally published
on The Society Pages, Gayle Sulik
Gayle Sulik, medical sociologist, author, and health advocate. Image credit: Parivrtta Hasta Padangusthasana – Big Bend National Park, Texas. USA
Gayle Sulik, medical sociologist, author, and health advocate. Image credit: Parivrtta Hasta Padangusthasana – Big Bend National Park, Texas. USA
