The Yoga Slut: The Beginning.

inner peace cartoon

 

By Dana Gornall

Slut:

noun
1.
Disparaging and Offensive. a sexually promiscuous woman, or a woman who behaves or dresses in an overtly sexual way.
2.
Informal. a person with a seemingly insatiable but often undiscerning desire to do or have something specified: guilty of being a shoe slut;
a book slut, reading five books at once.
3.
Archaic.
a prostitute; harlot.
an immoral or dissolute woman.
a dirty, slovenly woman. *from dictionary.com

Yoga:

noun, ( sometimes initial capital letter)
1.
a school of Hindu philosophy advocating and prescribing a course of physical and mental disciplines for attaining liberation from the material world and union of the self with the Supreme Being or ultimate principle.
2.
any of the methods or disciplines prescribed, especially a series of postures and breathing exercises practiced to achieve control of the body and mind, tranquillity, etc.
3.
union of the self with the Supreme Being or ultimate principle. *from dictionary.com

Some years ago I found myself on a quest of some kind.

I use the term some, because I can’t pinpoint exactly when it all began or what type of quest it was, exactly. What I can tell you was that I had found myself in that place of uncomfortableness. I think we have all been there, or if you haven’t, I can almost guarantee you will be at some point. It is a place where everything you thought you held true your entire life, suddenly begins to get turned around and twisted, like in one of those funhouse mirrors. The ground beneath you is no longer solid and you question everything—and I mean everything.

I can’t tell you what the catalyst was for this beginning, or ending, or whatever it was. I can say that a lot of life-changing events had led up to this spiritual upheaval. I lost a lot of important people in my life in a short time, I became a mother and therefore gained some very important people in my life, my marriage—something I had felt was pretty solid—began to falter and I gained a new family member, unexpectedly and quite traumatically. To make a long story short, my whole world had gotten turned upside down in a span of a few short years.

Thus, the search began.

In this search, I took a yoga class. I’m not sure what I expected, really, but I had always seen images of people—mostly women—with toned and tanned bodies, serene looks on their faces, sitting cross-legged, hands folded in a prayer position and pictured as though they had the world on a string. I wanted that, or at least I wanted a piece of that, so why not try it out? Instantly, after taking a class, I was hooked. There was something about the challenge, the physicality of it all, the desire to attempt some sort of accomplishment and the pure focus on what was happening with my body, that made all of the buzzing around in my mind come to a complete halt. I kept going, and going, and going, but I wanted more. Before long, I was dropping in from studio to studio, trying different forms, styles, teachers, locations and everything in between.

I texted one of my friends one day telling her about my new addiction and told her I had become quite the yoga slut. She cracked up at this term, (we both did) and so the thought would pop up in my head every time I attempted a new class.

Being a writer, I began writing about some of these experiences, and soon found that my term, yoga slut, was taken as offensive.

Slut is considered derogatory and negative, and is associated with the now popular trend: slut shaming, and why you shouldn’t do it. I understand that words change with our culture. Place any being from ancient history into our world today and the type of vocabulary and lifestyle would glaringly stick out from the verbiage we use today. But this is not a column about sexual promiscuity or the judgement thereof.

This is a column about viewpoints I tend to hold onto and let go in this undetermined quest of mine that I stepped onto some years ago. This is a column about attachment and non-attachment and why I tend to float back and forth between the two as I muddle my way through life. This is a column about being a mom, a writer, a yoga practitioner, a seeker, a meditator, an editor, a writer, a friend, a daughter and a completely imperfect and flawed person.

This is about being a person with a seemingly insatiable but often undiscerning desire to do or have something specified, searching for a union of the self with the Supreme Being or ultimate principle (see definitions above).

And so here we begin.

Yoga Sutra 1.1: Now, after having done prior preparation through life and other practices, the study and practice of Yoga begins.

 

Photo: (source)

Editor: Ty H Phillips

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Dana Gornall

Co-Founder & Editor at The Tattooed Buddha
Dana Gornall is the co-founder of The Tattooed Buddha and mom of three crazy kids and a dog. She has been writing stories since she could put words into sentences, and is completely in love with language of all kinds. The need to connect with people on a deeper level has always been something she strives for and finds fulfilling. Whether it be through massage, writing, interpreting or just chatting with a good friend, shefinds bits of enlightenment in those connections. If not working or writing, you can find her standing outside in the dark night gazing up at the millions of stars or dancing in the kitchen with her children. Check out her writing here on The Tattooed Buddha and her column:The Yoga Slut. You can also see her writing on Elephant Journal, Yoga International and Rebelle Society. You can connect with her on Twitter and Facebook.
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By | 2016-10-14T07:48:27+00:00 March 29th, 2016|blog, The Yoga Slut, Yoga|0 Comments