Is the struggle very real to get your butt to yoga in the morning? Vv Magazine’s West Coast Editor Alexandra Gill discovers some new and unusual ways to get from A to Zen…
So there I was at a morning yoga rave, twerking and gyrating on my mat. A DJ at the front of class cranked the electronic dance mix while the grrrl-empowered BUTI yoga instructor fiercely shook her hips and shouted, “This is what I call the Beyonce pose!”
Bouncing my butt through an MTV-inspired version of downward dog, I thought to myself: “Hey, maybe there’s still hope for a mid-life career re-launch as a backup dancer for Nicki Minaj.”
But seriously, what would the great sage Patanjali say about all this bootylicious ass shaking funked out with strobe lights and go-go girls? Isn’t yoga supposed to be Zen?
And there’s nothing wrong with raving your way into the day on a natural prana high. Party on, Blissheads. But can this healthy hedonistic trance dance still be considered yoga?
What about BUTI yoga? This latest perversion of the ancient meditative practice combines power yoga flow, plyometrics, and tribal dance. The high-impact fitness program is touted as an effective method for postpartum weight loss and improving self confidence when performed in a bikini – seriously — and followed with a grain- and dairy-free nutritional Slimdown program, which can be purchased from the main website along with protein powders, short shorts, and gem stone rings.
BUTI is a killer workout that really does target the gluteus maximus. (Buti is also a Marathi word that means “the cure to something hidden or secret.”) The DVDs apparently worked wonders for devotees Jessica Alba and Julia Roberts. And there’s nothing wrong with celebrity endorsements. Well, there are some that stretch the boundaries of crass. Is it really appropriate for an ass-centric workout to hijack Mother Theresa as an inspiration for women wanting to tap into their “deep-seated confidence” and get more comfortable in their tattooed skin?
“Mother Theresa didn’t walk around complaining about her thighs,” reads one of the mantras on the website. “She had shit to do.”
Come on, dudettes. That’s just not cool.
I suppose BUTI yoga and yoga raves are no wackier than speed dating yoga (see if sparks fly while holding hands in a wide-legged forward fold) chocolate yoga (merge two of your greatest passions with a blessing ceremony that gives thanks to the Cacao Spirit), or snowga (salute the sacred frost in a pair of snowshoes).
But these bastardized yoga workouts have as much in common with the ancient Hindu spiritual and ascetic discipline as Jazzercise had with Miles Davis. Go ahead and shake your stanky legs to awaken the power of the day. Just please don’t call it yoga.
If you have a favourite “type” of yoga let Vv Magazine know in the comments below or tweet us @ViewTheVibe.