I’m no yogi (or yogini (the female version)). You only need to see my try to imitate "Downward Facing Dog" (on all fours, butt raised high in the air) to see that. And, as much as I admire those who devote themselves to Yoga practice, I have found most Yoga classes to be a combination of pseudo-spiritualty, physical torment (you want me to stand on my head for four minutes?), and hypocrisy (lots of talk from the instructor of peace and being at one with oneself, when before class, high strung participants nearly mow each other down to get the best place and then eye each other as they perform the poses). I also find the language confusing. It’s hard to exercise to foreign terms, e.g., Chatarunga Dandasana (basically a frozen push-up).
One class at my local YMCA, though, stands out for its lack of pretense and preposterousness. The teacher, Jason Amis, clearly knows his stuff. He can perform the most challenging power Yoga poses with ease. But he’s also willing to use colloquial terms—Chatarunga is "lower yourself slowly to your mat." He works us hard (I estimate that I can actually do about 60 percent of the poses), but offers crystal clear instruction. Instead of spending the entire time at the front of the room, he walks among us, offering encouragement or gently correcting a pose that’s out of line. And, while he talks of inner and outer peace, the talk is genuine and even humorous. A New York yogi who doesn’t take himself too seriously—it’s a rare thing.
In honor of February 4, he’s started a 54 Days of Peace campaign—encouraging 54 straight days of Yoga practice, ending on 9/11. I’ve not exactly stayed on the wagon myself, but I think it’s a terrific cause and a genuine way to promote the best within us as a counterpoint to an event perpetrated by hatred and neglect for life.