I really felt for Anita Chaudhuri when she said she was giving up on yoga because, at its most basic, it is a wonderful way to escape from the pressures of life and give your body a well-needed workout too (After 20 years of yoga, I’m hanging up my mat for good, 5 July).
I think Anita needs to explore village hall yoga. It’s often taught by people who have an enthusiasm for it, backed by knowledge but without all those annoying gimmicks. In my case, the teacher had years of experience. She put the class consisting of a mixture of ages and abilities at ease, and had a sense of humour. Our class always ended with a relaxing cool down, where someone fell asleep. You can ask no more. Come on, Anita, put on your old joggers and join us.
Helen Stenson
Penselwood, Somerset
• I also gave up yoga classes years ago after one too many bad experiences. I had first been drawn to yoga as an exercise for ordinary people, requiring no prior fitness, specialist equipment or space.
Sadly, in my 20s and 30s I encountered too many yoga teachers who were aggressive, patronising and told me to listen to them and not my body – the male yoga teacher who lost his temper and shouted at a class of young women; a former City lawyer who had found enlightenment on maternity leave and believed she was the guru of postpartum exercise; a strict yoga teacher who denied my pain and tried to manually bend me to attention. All were lithe, muscular, competitive, uptight and seemingly using yoga as a form of gruelling penance for being born middle class.
It was only when accompanying my daughter’s school trip to a Hindu temple, where I saw an elderly gentleman slowly performing sun salutations, that I reconnected with the idea of yoga as it is meant to be – a gentle practice that can be incorporated into daily life. No pressure, no pain, no gym gear needed. Now, in my late 40s, yoga is something I can do when I need to awaken my muscles or calm my mind, using just a tattered 1970s paperback to guide me when required.
Jasmine Brown
Twickenham, London
• I sympathise with Anita about the commercialisation and cultural appropriation of yoga. But there are two strands to the yoga community here and internationally: one that she describes, but also that wing of yoga that seeks to take its benefits to those who would profit the most, but who can’t afford it or don’t have access to it.
Brighton Yoga Foundation runs 10 classes a week for people in mental health crisis, women recovering from domestic abuse or sexual violence, homeless people or those with medical conditions, prisoners and refugees. These are free to access with specially trained teachers and the feedback is incredible: “Your yoga class has literally saved my life,” wrote one participant recently. That is what yoga should be about – not expensive leggings and yoga mats.
Davy Jones
Chair, Brighton Yoga Foundation
• My lovely outdoor yoga class disappeared with the arrival of Covid. I have found it difficult to find an alternative – I want a good stretch, some strength-building and some mindfulness. I have rolled my cheap yoga mat on my lounge floor, pulled on my daggy trackies and gone online. I’ve practised yoga for many years and this works for me. It might well be perfect for you too.
Ann Linich
Pagewood, New South Wales, Australia
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