Geoffrey Wiebe on Mirror Neurons and Beloved Yoga Teachers: Free, Life-Affirming and Dangerous

(Geoffrey Wiebe)

T he word vrtti is an interesting one. It rolls off the tongues of yogis fluently, and I always imagine that word has the power to invoke itself...to bring on a ringing in the ears, a deafening hum of unwanted frequencies oscillating like a funnel cloud.

 "O h the vrttis... It used to be that I couldn't sleep till five in the morning". 

Amused and shaking his head, Geoffrey Wiebe was rolling his pale eyes upwards as if he couldn't possibly describe the nature of the outgrown predicament. The winter light was brighter than usual, like a flash flood through the wide perimeter of the cafe window, and Geoff was all smiles as he unfurled his lithe arms along the rough hewn wood counter. O those vrttis: the rapid-fire neural activity, that vortex of gapless thought that leaves us exhausted and wide-eyed in the dead of night. He was answering my question: "So how has yoga changed you?"

Sitting with Geoff it's not hard to imagine that the scope of his intelligence and energy could invoke a burden. Ask Geoff a question and you'll get a hundred intricate and vastly different answers; each thought digressing gently, the path dotted with Vedic tales, Zen koans, dialogue from screenplays and quotable one-liners from indie bands. Creativity and agility are no issue. And if you've ever been in one of Geoff's yoga classes the same is true. Exacting and detailed as a teacher, his one-on-one approach with students is as gentle and reassuring as he is in a face-to-face conversation.

The only child of a professor (of the philosophy of science and religion) and a registered nurse, growing up on campus in England was rich with opportunity, and Geoffrey Wiebe was introduced to yoga at 5 by an upstairs neighbor- though interest soon faded in favour of sport. The next invitation came over 20 years later with the ashtanga practice, taught by Diane Bruni and Ron Reid, with whom he completed teacher training in 2001. Other teachers include Mathew Sweeney, Richard Freeman, Chuck Miller & Maty Ezraty, and Geoffrey continues his study at the Downward Dog, Toronto. A graduate of U of T, Geoffrey has studied and worked in theatre (Canada, the UK, Germany, and Italy), made a film, and competed as a cyclist and rock climber.

(Geoffrey Wiebe, Teaching at One Love Toronto 2011)

As if all of this isn't enough, Geoffrey also presented an intriguing paper at last year's Yoga Festival Toronto entitled, Our Rishis Have fMRIs. The paper generated a wave of interest at the festival sparking ongoing debate about establishing teacher training standards. Drawing heavily from ongoing research in the area of neuroscience, it examines the critical role of "mirror neurons" in the yogic learning environment.

 In our chat Geoff is outspoken about his experience studying with beloved teachers, the yoga of surfing, his views on "grace" in a practice and how a yoga practice can make you free, life-affirming and "dangerous". And you'll notice he asks as many questions as he answers. It really is amazing that he can sleep at night.

(Geoffrey Wiebe)

  

"Modern neuroscience has shown that learning alters physical brain anatomy (neural plasticity) and can do so throughout a lifespan.  We become our patterns and our patterns shape us; and we exist more as a wave than a thing.  The theraputics of yoga sits in the ability to hone and shape this patterning (samskara, literally stain in Sanskrit)  through directed effort...  From a bad back to bad choices, and the two are inextricably linked as is our mind & body".  (Geoffrey Wiebe, excerpt from "Our Rishis Have fMRIs")

The Cultural Circuitry of Yoga in America: An Interview with Author Stefanie Syman

(Ruth St. Denis and Denishawn dancers in Yoga Meditation, 1915)

"The group, Leary, Swain and the Vedanta devotees then sat cross-legged on Oriental rugs and chanted. When the acid hit, Leary saw shock and amazement on the "Holy folk", despite their years of practicing Bhakti and Raja yoga. He himself imagined, briefly, that he was Shiva". (from The Subtle Body, The Story of Yoga in America by Stefanie Syman)

(Ruth St. Denis)

I f you're American and you do yoga, you've probably wondered, at some point mid-way through a sonorous closing chant of "OM" how yoga even found its way to these shores. The Subtle Body: The Story of Yoga in America is Stefanie Syman's folio of American yoga memories; a book dedicated to uncovering the cultural circuitry of American yoga practice. Each snapshot is a peek at the complicated love affair of Americans with yoga. A tango of a relationship that runs hot and cold by turns,  
The Subtle Body: The Story of Yoga in America, tracks the historical development of yoga in American popular consciousness, its momentum, and its surprising staying power.

(3 pics clockwise: madonna, bks iyengar 89th birthday, marilyn monroe)

The book begins in New England where we see naive strains of Hindu thought germinating in the work of Transcendentalists Emerson and Thoreau, before it shifts to the first transatlantic visits of gurus such as Vivekananda. And the story doesn't stop there. It careens through the literary and spiritual histories of luminaries, and documents the spiritual shifts in a country's consciousness through their stories. Among those explored are: Margaret Woodrow Wilson, Indra Devi, Alan Watts, Aldous Huxley, Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder, Ruth St. Denis, Greta Garbo, BKS Iyengar, Bikram, Pattabhi Jois and Madonna.

Great Times are Waiting, Shivers up the Spine 5 Days in NYC: Leslie Kaminoff, Tom Myers, Robert Mahon and IDP

I opened the window from my hotel room to a warm chinook blowing in to Manhattan's lower east side. Thank god the window actually opens, I thought. I could see the alley below, announcing a small market, and folks were in and out of the passageway all day long. I had planned to get a good amount of writing done; but there was no internet access at the hotel...or at least not an internet that could stay connected consistently. The front desk looked at me quizzically when I mentioned it; but I knew from his blank, rapid blinking, he was well aware of the problem.

One small room, with a window, and a squirrel that was eating the floorboards underneath me...a shared bathroom down the hall, and walls paper thin so that I could hear the writer rooming next to me talking about her next screenwriting project. It wasn't much; but it was New York City, and I was within spitting distance of everything I needed. So, apart from seeing bands at CMJ, I was going to make it my business to get out and do as much yoga as possible.


This is my recap of Yoga NYC; but it also gives you a bit of a taste of what's upcoming on Shivers Up the Spine heading into the cold season.

O n Thursday afternoon I met with Robert Mahon, whose photographs had formed the basis for the post, "Into the Slipstream; The Yoga of Chance in the Photography of Robert Mahon". We had lunch and chocolate in Chelsea; paid quick homage to the Chelsea hotel; spent hours lounging on the lawn chairs of the Episcopal Seminary Gardens in the warm sunlight of autumn. We never made it to MOMA; but for any of you out there curious about seeing more of Robert's work in the flesh, you can go to the AKA hotel Times Square; and on every single floor is one of a series of stunning photographs of New York City's most recognizable landmarks entitled, "The Liberty Series". Of these, the photos of Lady Liberty remain with me; her form under tender veils of reconstruction scaffolding, a vaulting iceberg in repair over black sheets of water. The images are striking enough to make you want to ride the elevator up and down all day. This is an excerpt from the Hotel's guide to the series:

AKA Times Square is pleased to present Liberty Series, a selection of 12 photographs by Robert Mahon, on display in the hallways facing the elevators and in the fitness center.  Printed in 2010 by the artist especially for AKA, the original photographs of the Statue of Liberty, World Trade Center, Ellis Island, and the New York Harbor were taken by the artist in 1983 and 1984.  Many of these archetypal images having the theme of arrival and departure are aerial photos taken from a helicopter flying close to the Statue of Liberty.

Transnational Yoga Part 1: An Interview with Blogger Roseanne Harvey of "It's all Yoga Baby"

The community portals have been hacked. Advertisers have your home number; and now they're calling at dinnertime. Yoga blogs, once the independent voice of an online community, are now the locus of increased corporate sensibility; your discussions will be interrupted for "these special messages from our sponsors".  In this 3-part series on Transnational Yoga,  I interview 3 writers with regard to their own research on yoga and commodity, the practices that comprise contemporary yoga, and the origins of our asana-heavy, posturific, yoga culture.

I went into this interview assuming I would write a piece about what it means to be a blogger; a critical, independent voice in the yoga community, armed with the wit and candour to observe the fascinating negotiations that are happening between yoga and capitalism the world over. After all, my interview had been scheduled for over a month, and it was with the fabulous blogger, Roseanne Harvey, of It's All Yoga Baby.

Kamloops-raised, Roseanne Harvey came to yoga at University, originally as an attempt to manage the stress of a busy workload. Over time, however, the practice took root; and Harvey found herself settling in at Yasodhara Ashram, B.C, upon the advice of close friends. By the end of her stay, Harvey had found a deepened passion for yoga, and a new community newsletter to write for the ashram. Eventually, Ascent Magazine, an independent, not-for-profit publication dedicated to spirituality and yoga, was born through Yasodhara; and Roseanne Harvey was at the helm of its editorial functions. The publication ran from 1999 through 2009; and, when the much-loved magazine closed it doors, Harvey turned her attention to blogging.

In our interview, Harvey talks about the importance of resisting corporate interest, and how she hopes to serve as an example of an independent, anti-commercial voice for the yoga community; and, how yoga partnerships with corporations that propogate an idealized vision of the female body are problematic. Yet, by the time I reached her, late last week, Roseanne Harvey had signed a deal with Wonderbra for her blog. Furthermore, in our conversation, she details the contractual restrictions on her blogging voice inherent in this relationship.

Blogging for Yoga, Interview with Roseanne Harvey:

"I realized that I resist the commercialization of yoga because I resist the commercialization of everything. I don’t believe that yoga deserves special treatment; I believe that the commercialization of everything, from food to sex to art, is unhealthy for people and our world."

("WSJ Stefanie Syman on how Yoga Sold Out", from It's all Yoga Baby, by Roseanne Harvey) 

 PT: So Roseanne, you started a blog, would be a year and a half ago now?

Roseanne Harvey: Yeah I started the blog after the magazine closed. While I was at the magazine I was responsible for the magazine's blog, along with so many other things with editing etc. So it was always a pain in the butt. I always hated doing it. I had to handle that as well as so many other things. But then once when the magazine closed it was much easier as an independent person, to publish a blog, than to publish a magazine. So I just needed a space where i could continue to explore yoga and maintain the connections that I made while i was at the magazine; and, do it in a place where it was on my own terms, where i wasn't representing anyone else's interests.

PT: Do you find that a lot of yoga conversations, whether they happen through blogs, books or magazines, have been co-opted by something, or somebody else's interests?

Roseanne Harvey:  I find that in the blogging community it's not co-opted. There's a very independent spirit within the blogging community; and most people who blog do it for themselves. Most of them are yoga teachers or just yoga practitioners so they're not representing any other system or whatever. And in terms of being co-opted, I mean yeah, there's no kind of formalized system to really co-opt these voices, other than blogs like the Yoga Journal blogs and some others...If a writer/blogger is really ambitious and wants to contribute to the Huffington Post, then, sure it's been co-opted. But generally, I find there's a lot of independent voices.

PT: What would you say the difference is between writing for the the Yoga Journal blogs, or Huffington Post, and being an independent blogger?

Roseanne Harvey: Yeah, it's hard to say, because I haven't had the experience of writing for Yoga Journal etc; but I think that there's a different mandate. And Yoga Journal has several high profile teachers that are currently blogging for them and yeah, most of the writing I see is not critical and analytical or whatever. It tends to be experiential and anecdotal. 

(photo by erin vosti lal)

PT: Ok. I guess that leads into my question about magazine culture re. yoga in North America. What do you think of the kind of yoga advertising we're seeing in magazines? Where is it all going?

Roseanne Harvey:  Uh hmm... Yeah, well i think that a communication vehicle is good for the yoga community. I think that it's good to provide accessible information for people who are simply curious. And all magazines are fuelled by advertising because that's how the industry works.  In terms of yoga magazines I think that they're an essential part of the evolution of yoga in North America. If we look at yoga magazines now, there are only two I can think of in print right now; Yoga Journal and Yoga International, and then a handful of other spirituality magazines. But what I see there is not a lot of diversity, a big emphasis on the physical aspects of the practice, a certain kind of representation that's soft-focus, fuzzy, women-in-spandex, lotus flowers and candles.. this very idealized image of spiritual practice...which doesn't always represent the whole story of the practice.