Yoga Tunes: Turn Them Up or Turn Them Off?

I don’t get angry very often. It’s an emotion I don’t enjoy, and one I generally prefer to reserve for social injustices or animal cruelty. But last week, I found my heart pounding and my ears steaming as I read some Reddit-users’ (affectionately deemed “redditors”) comments on the r/yogamusic page of Reddit. The topic was (surprise!) music in a yoga class, and it started innocently enough: “Yoga teachers: What are your current playlists for your classes? I need some inspiration.” It quickly migrated, however, to the age-old discussion: should music be played at all in a yoga class, or is it merely a distraction? Choosing a playlist is one of the most difficult aspects of teaching for me. I want music that is relaxing, yet energizing; music that is poignant, but not depressing; music that enhances the mood of the class, rather than distracts from it. To find 75 minutes worth of songs that fit these criteria is time-consuming.

Students’ and teachers’ tastes in music range wider than a seasoned yogi’s legs in Virabhadrasana II—how can we possibly appeal to them all? The obvious answer is, we can’t. One redditor’s comment proposed a simple solution to the music problem: don’t play music at all. He went on to say that his usual teacher never plays music, but that he’d been to a class recently where the sub had played a Bon Iver song during Savasana. “I can’t stand Bon Iver,” he said, “and I almost approached her after class to tell her she shouldn’t play something so divisive.” Another redditor offered a similar sentiment: “Teachers who play music in class are either uncomfortable without it as a backdrop or feel that their students are.” And another: “What’s with the need to fill the silence that would enable clearer focus???”

First of all, the idea that the yoga studio should be (or could ever be) devoid of all controversy is absurd to me. Unless we sit at home and listen only to our own opinions, opportunities for controversy and disagreement follow Imageus everywhere—yes, even inside the yoga studio. Ironically, the same redditor who “can’t stand Bon Iver” acknowledged that he “tried to take it as a learning opportunity—finding peace when you’re uncomfortable, you know?” But this desire to learn appeared fleeting when he added “I tried … but I actually left class felling really upset.” I wanted to ask this person: is this how you always treat your yoga practice? What happened, say, the first time you attempted a handstand? Did you leave feeling upset if you didn’t succeed? Did you then declare that teachers should not teach handstands because some students don’t find them comfortable? Or did you come back and try again? Finding peace amid discomfort is difficult and frustrating, but surely it is worth more than one try.

Regarding the comment that “teachers who play music” (as if we are all one homogenous breed) are “uncomfortable without it,” I could not disagree more. Perhaps there are some who fear silence, but even if that is the case, so what? We teach yoga for others, not for our own personal growth; if music makes us more comfortable, confident teachers, great. I would far rather have a teacher who seemed comfortable with herself and her class structure, even if I “hated” her music, than a teacher who seemed unsettled. When I play music, it is because I want to, not because I don’t not want to. There are some who don’t care for my taste in music, and there are others who love it. But whether they like my music or not, I would hope that they come to my class, not for the playlist, but to gain a greater appreciation of their own bodies and selves.

Sitar_for_yoga_musicAnd finally, in response to the question, “What’s with the need to fill the silence that would enable clearer focus???” I ask: does silence guarantee clearer focus? Don’t get me wrong, I am a friend to silence; I agree that it is important not to fear it. But I also believe it is important to make peace with cacophony. Like it or not, the world is full of noise—some of it soothing, a lot of it stress-inducing. As yoga teachers, we do not have the responsibility (or the capability!) to rid our studios of everything that might cause our students stress; it is our job to equip our students with tools to effectively cope with the stress they encounter. We must be sensitive and attuned to our students’ needs, but we cannot remove all obstacles for clear focus and inner peace. That is work that we all have to do for ourselves.

So why do I bother ranting about this? I can think of two reasons: 1. I am a sensitive soul who loves music and will defend its place in a yoga class to my death, and 2. I want people to think. If a yoga teacher plays a song a student dislikes, this does not mean she shouldn’t have played the song; it certainly doesn’t mean that music has no place in yoga. Similarly, if a student is uncomfortable with a music-free class, this does not mean the teacher needs to fill the silence. To my fellow yoga teachers, I say: keep on rocking the music—or silence—you love. And to my fellow yoga students: keep on breathing, even and especially through a song you don’t like, for being uncomfortable allows us to use the skills that yoga teaches us. In the words of Kelly Clarkson, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller.”

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The End of The Month, Not The Mindset

Well it’s July, and Natural Beauty Month is officially over. I considered posting a celebratory picture of my face, covered with an offensive amount of foundation, bronzer, eye shadow, eyeliner, maybe even some fake eyelashes, with a caption that read, “Soooo excited to wear makeup again!!” Then I realized that some people might not get the joke; that, and I don’t own half those products. But egregiously applied makeup and sarcastic captioning aside, the end of Natural Beauty Month does present me with some important questions: Will I go back to wearing makeup? If so, how often, and how much? Now that I am used to looking at my naked face, will I judge my made-up face negatively for being “fake”?

I have never been one for extremes. I don’t believe in strict diets that guilt a person into eating exclusively “healthy” food. Setting a strict “no makeup” rule for myself seems similarly restrictive: what if I feel especially dumpy one day and a dash of mascara makes me feel better about myself? One could argue that I should not care what I look like in the first place—indeed, this would be ideal. But the reality is, I do care, and some mornings I wake up looking more refreshed than others. I do not want to go back to relying on makeup to make up for the fact that I did not get a good sleep, ate too many fries, or didn’t exercise for a few days in a row. I want to be content with what I have and what I look like naturally, and I want to keep doing all that I can to care for myself from the inside out. I want to see makeup as an option, not as an evil entity, and certainly not as a necessity.

When I saw the headshots that my friend, John Schlia, had taken of me and two friends for Natural Beauty Month, I had a brief spell of anxiety. He had posted the pictures to his Facebook page, then tagged me in them—not only would my giant, naked face show up in his friends’ news feeds, but in my friends’ as well. Well shit, I thought, I guess there’s no turning back now… Of course, my two friends looked beautiful in their pictures, but mine was by far the worst. When I told one of these friends how jealous I was that her picture came out so well, she laughed: “Oh my GOD, mine is the WORST!” she said, “I thought you’d love yours!”  She proceeded to describe all that was wrong with her face in her picture—“flaws” that I had not noticed, nor did I notice when I went back to search for them. She told me that our third friend had felt the same way: our pictures were good but hers was the WORST. To each of us, the others were prettier, more photogenic, and our own natural faces looked terrible.

It is difficult to stop judging ourselves, and even harder to accept and love ourselves fully. Ironically, it is usually when we feel bad about ourselves that we treat ourselves badly. Unhealthy choices are addicting, but fortunately, so are healthy choices. There is a lot I will take away from this June, the most important being that no one cares what I look like as much as I do. When we stop seeing ourselves as flawed, broken, imperfect people, we start to treat ourselves with the love and respect we deserve. As we move forward into July, let us try to remember that no one will ever judge us as harshly as we judge ourselves. Let us make choices we can be proud of, and allow ourselves to make mistakes—these mistakes will not kill us, and they will probably even help us to appreciate the times we get it right.

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Even though I STILL think my picture is the worst, John is a great photographer. Thank you, John!