When I tried to “cheat” in Vinnie’s classes (i.e. hold my legs during a long navasana sequence,) he would call me on it. I needed to listen to my own body and focus on my breath, not drain my energy to maintain a perfect pose. When I started focusing on my breath, instead of a hard pose, my stamina would naturally rise. I’d never before nor since felt such strength and exhilaration as I moved and sweat and inhaled through the strong music. Vinnie often says, “Listen to the rise and fall of your breath,” or, in his droll tone, “Guys, it’s just yoga.” He often says these things during challenging poses – while you’re holding a seemingly 10 minute chair pose or moving from chair to flying eagle to warrior 3, holding each pose for quite some time. I started to keenly follow these recommendations and the commitment allowed the yoga to completely wash over me. I started to understand and feel my body so very deeply. Previously, I was never able to really dive into the spirituality of yoga. I practiced the poses and yes, they calmed and strengthened me, but I never clearly understood such phrases as “mind-body” or “intention.” It wasn’t until Vinnie’s class that I felt such a deep connection and commitment to my entire self. Because of the strength his classes requires, you often have two choices. The first is to focus on your breath and let your patience and intention work through the challenges. This will bring you to a wonderfully clear and elated state. The second is to focus primarily on the most active limbs to attain the “perfect pose,” (e.g. the legs in chair pose.) With this latter approach, one can often lose track of the breath and body as a whole. This approach will not enlighten, but focus attention in a more superficial aspect. And what a shame, because the rest of you can give so much during a challenge like this. Of course I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but this is just what I have found in my practice.

I used to practice with no music and didn’t think anything but a light, ethereal music track would work for my practice. Boy was I wrong. Vinnie’s music follows your practice; it grows and drives you through your sun salutations and chaturangas until the music and your movements feel interwoven. The notes move through you as you accelerate your practice, and the music really makes you look into yourself and see your heart. That’s how it went for me; I brought everything to my yoga mat and slowly worked it through there. I love Vinnie’s classes, and I miss them desperately. I live in another city now, and I’ve never found anything like them. Perhaps his classes draw a certain personality, and that’s fine, as your practice has to work for you and your nature only. I also never minded the full room; it just added to my practice, that we were such a dedicated community, growing together through this experience. Also, because his classes are heavily attended, he will try to learn your name and call out tips if he can’t reach you immediately. If there are two people with your name, he’ll sometimes give you a nickname. And if you’re doing a pose in an inappropriate way, he’ll let you know. He learned my name pretty well as I was a frequent practitioner. I’ve since fallen off, but he still recognizes me. Strangely, he’s now taken to calling me April. There are no other Aprils in the class thus far, so it’s easier to respond than correct him every few months when I’m in town. It’s pretty funny, and I always answer. I guess I never thought of him as a kind of yoga king until I saw that article, but I’ve never found a yoga class quite like his, and I don’t know if I ever will. Vinnie’s classes require strength and dedication, and he will give you as much as you give yourself. His instruction, charm, wit and ever evolving musical soundtrack shaped my classes into the best personal moments of my life. I always look forward to my trips back to Los Angeles.

Every year, a few people who have needed to cross that bridge become dissatisfied with the scene and peel off for a more traditional practice. It’s fine.

There’s no shame in coming to a silent, post-trance-dance kind of yoga through some time with Vinnie. The rest of us around here aren’t threatened by that scene and don’t feel the need to sit around judging it for being “the wrong context” or something our “gurus” wouldn’t like. Vinnie’s got a different karma, a different audience, and is speaking a different language. Great to see that it’s working for people, even if when I roll in to his room it is full-on culture shock.

http://www.yogadawg.com/video39.htm

really.

so how come I’m no yoga superstar? I guess I need a crown for that.

My own Guru has spoken before of how people recovering from drug addicitions often end up searching for spiritual things. Perhaps there is something in that? But I don’t know if I’d call them ‘the same’.

And I’ve never been a fan of yoga classes with music. I like mine silent, so the focus has to eventually go inwards. Then, I also don’t like the idea of yoga as torture.

I do agree with Vinnie that life experiences will make you a better teacher. But they don’t have to be the sort of life experiences he’s had – just whatever you’ve learned along the way, if you can apply that to your teaching, you will be a better teacher.

Grace Slick’s quote: ‘I’d rather take yoga from you than some weird dude in a robe.’ – is why people are crowned Yoga Kings. They take yoga out of its context, make it a little more like boot camp and suddenly people can’t get enough.

Reminds me of a conversation I once overheard at an Iyengar class: ‘I like it here because you don’t do any of that weird chanting stuff’.

I say, good for them, really. But its not for me. And its not the sort of yoga teacher I’m going to be, that’s for certain! What I never want any future class I teach to be about, is the cult of personality. So, let’s breathe in and out and chant A-U-M!! And close your eyes, damnit! Stop checking yourself or anyone else out in the mirror already!!