I don’t do ‘yoga’. Which used to be skinny south Asian people sitting under trees cross-legged for 16 hours with their eyes closed and pinky fingers aligned to enhance the force or create a karmic orgasm or whatever the fuck they were doing it for.

Now its for not-so-skinny white women and its all about streeeeeeeeetching and flexibility and downward dogs and upwardly mobile and warriors and that’ll be £42.75 for the session, thank you very much.

But is that ‘yoga’???

Well, its not yoga in the ancient Indian sense of the word, but who cares about them? They’re all dead. It’s the new, sanitised, Lululemon-world yoga. Which starts when you park the Porsche Macan in the car park and unfurl your Harrods, Designer’s Guild mat on the gym floor. And ends 30 sweaty, stretchy, healthy(?) minutes later. Fine. If it makes you happy, its good. I wouldn’t do it because I don’t drive the right car, so generally have no thoughts one way or another. Live and let ohmmmmm.

Yet there are forces (in India) at work claiming ‘cultural appropriation’, ‘whitewashing’ and how this massive ‘industry’ should be paying back to where it all began. And that’s where I come in really. Because I am the anti-woke guru. Ooops, can I say ‘guru’ in a metaphorical context??? And those words feel like razor blades scraping down a window to my soul.

If they called it ‘yoga-based, Pilates-style stretch classes for entitled middle-class Sweaty Betties’, all would be fine. Because yoga is a spiritual exercise and at the David Lloyd they don’t sell spirits. And they have no souls either.

The yogis should feel flattered that they are given a nod for inspiring one of the most modern forms of popular masochistic narcissism.

I do ‘tai chi’. That too is ancient. Like most of the guys I do it with. But we modify it, our ‘guru’ has changed it. Mainly made it much more violent, but that’s exactly how the ‘ancients’ did it before it too was ‘culturally appropriated’ on cruise ships to mitigate that extra portion of chips with morning coffee.

There’s only so many ways a body can move. Possibly less for my body. And does it really matter what you call your chosen path to subtlety and vitality and a promise of eternal life? To quote from the ancient Indian sages and the ancient Chinese monks: “iss all a load’a bollocks anyway”.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx