• OMG! I Can Do Yoga!

    I teach a beginning yoga class. An actual for beginners never stepped onto a yoga mat class. I’ve done the comps. I’m the only beginning yoga class for miles. A lot of yoga class descriptions say, “We welcome all levels of students.” It’s bullshit.   Many of my beginning yoga clients have experienced the unspoken rejection of their newbie presence. It takes a while, but some of them finally work up the courage to try yoga again. When they do they discover my beginning class.

  • Slow Your Roll, Bitches: My Yoga IS Healthy Yoga

    It happens all of the time. New people attend my class, and they are experienced yoga practitioners. You know the type, usually younger, lithe, and so full of yogi zen you just want to slap the yoga off of their fucking faces. They have no idea the yoga they’ve been practicing isn’t healthy yoga.   I always frontload these people with my background in Viniyoga, my atypical cueing, and my history with yoga as a kinder way of saying, “Slow your roll, bitches. This is healthy yoga.”   Yoga (modern transnational physical yoga, MTPY for short) as typically taught can cause serious injuries. Yes, yoga is the bomb diggity, and I wish…

  • Let Your Voice Be Heard!

      Ain’t no secret, I’ve written a yoga book. Yes, the yoga company is called The F*cking Yoga Company. Blame it on the hubby irritating me. Maybe it was the three glasses of wine. Possibly, I’m just sick of perfect, chichi, hippy yoga companies and perfect, chichi hippy yogis. Take your pick. I may not be considered marketable, but I am accessible.

  • What is THIS?!

        The F*cking Yoga Co may not seem like the most Zen of brands, but I’m not the most Zen of teachers. Or maybe I’m so Zen I’m, well . . . Zen.   A terrific client of mine, Charlie (shout out to Charlie!), a retired business exec, pulled me aside and asked me if he could talk to me about The F*cking Yoga Co. He knows my book is being submitted for publication and he would love to see my yoga out in the world. Of course, I’m going to talk to him.   One, he asked if he could talk to me. Two, he ASKED if he…

  • For Those Who’d Like The Flexibility To Reach To Scratch

      Meeting some friends at a local joint, I arrived early and ordered a margarita. The waiter, an imposing figure of six-foot-plus with a smooth bald head, gave me a wink and a friendly smile. As the place sat empty, we chatted a bit. Think Mr. Clean without the gold hoop. Somehow yoga and flexibility popped into the conversation . . . Imagine that. This guy pushed two hundred fifty pounds of trim and fit so when he mentioned his first yoga class I grinned.