Teaching at the Yoga Journal conference at Estes Park is a completely different experience than it is traveling to teach at a studio–especially one in South East Asia–for a week or weekend. First off, Richard can, and does put off his departure until the very last minute, heading out the door for the 45 minute drive at about 7pm the night before he’s scheduled to teach. Second, by design the conference is a smorgasbord of the latest in yoga teaching styles, concepts and personalities. As one who has been living and teaching the same “style” and “concepts” of yoga for almost 30 years, it can be eye opening for Richard to see where his work (let alone his life) interfaces with the latest yoga trends and fashions. It can also be intriguing to see the sincerity and open mindedness of so many of the students, and to check in with what’s new in the yoga world. Given all this and the fact that Richard is one of the planet’s most dedicated introverts, conferences tend to be exhausting.
An interesting aspect of the Yoga Journal conference in Estes Park is that not only Richard, but a number of Yoga Workshop teachers and students, as well as friends from the Boulder community make the trek up the hill to check out the scene. So it’s an opportunity for many members of the Yoga Workshop sanga to spend time together in a new context. Another interesting aspect is that as yoga and the selling of yoga evolves, so does the overall feel of the conference. In the past 12 years or so, since that first conference, the conferences have been everything from mellow to somewhat frenetic in feel.
There was the year local elk grazed out of the back of Richard’s truck in the parking lot all week. Rumors spread fast that he had some sort of esoteric knowledge that gave him the edge in connecting to the majestic beasts. That was cool. In fact the last “must do” item Richard had checked off his list before leaving home for the conference was to trim the crab apple tree in the front yard which was loaded with fruit. The clippers were still warm when he left home, and it was months before he made it by Western Disposal to recycle the yard waste. None the less, that was the transcendental conference year.
There were a few years soon after when fashion, hype and the “yoga revolution” dominated the conference. Yoga was catching on not only as an ancient tradition, but also as a commodity–even a career path (a career path??!!??). The vendor’s hall, which at the original conference was almost an afterthought, started housing over half of the largest teaching hall and everything from Iyengar yoga to hip hop was part of the party. Not being a big party goer, these years for Richard were disheartening, if not debilitating. Those were the adolescent years.
Of course the most moving year was when Mr. Iyengar himself was the focus of the conference. It was stunning to watch one of the most important influences in modern yoga lace his tradition and strength of personality into the classes he taught. That was the year that Richard was one of the many other senior teachers attending and teaching at the conference who felt rather uncomfortable even thinking about masquerading as teachers in the same venue as Mr. Iyengar himself. It was the year of awe.
The remarkable aspect this year was that Richard, the introvert of introverts, kept finding himself closing events down. Normally he’s the one who sneaks in and out of planned social events, dinners or presentations, trying to blend in with the shadows and be un-noticed. Drained by the energy of the conference he usually needs time to rest in the quiet of his room, so he can get back out there and teach the next class. But this year was the year of the Ashtanga Intensive for the first part of the week. Other senior Ashtanga teachers–all really great long time friends–taught together for three days. Students in the daily Mysore classes might have had Tim Miller adjusting them in one posture and Maty Ezraty or Chuck Miller helping the next. David Swenson was there keeping everyone laughing as they practiced, and Nicki Doane and Eddie Modestine rounded out the crew. So Richard, usually the man in the shadows sneaking back to his room found himself again and again, closing the place down or getting swept out of the dining hall at the end of the night, not having enough time to just hang out with friends. Now that’s a first! The year of the extrovert.
Perhaps the most memorable part of this year’s conference was that among friends, it was obvious that yoga’s 21st Century yoga facelift–the selling of yoga–has an initially bitter taste. But that if you keep your own vision clear, your breath focused in the central channel, and your sense of integrity strong, it’s pretty easy to see that ancient traditions, when transplanted into capitalistic cultures, survive just fine.