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      Connecting with my south-Asian roots on a traditional Indian yoga retreat in the UK

      news.movim.eu / TheGuardian · Wednesday, 20 March - 07:00

    On a weekend break in rural Lincolnshire, the ‘smiling yogi’ takes this ancient practice back to its origins, with an emphasis on mantras and mindfulness

    Often when I’ve turned up at various yoga studios in London, the groups I’ve encountered have been overwhelmingly white, svelte and middle class. Perhaps I’ve not found the right class, but as a south Asian woman, it always felt like I was in somebody else’s space.

    Yoga originated in ancient India, and I wanted to connect with my Indian roots, so I started looking for an authentic Indian yoga teacher in the UK. I thought it would be a lot easier than it was. In a 2020 report about UK yoga, 91% of practitioners who responded to the survey were white, and south Asian instructors regularly speak out about the lack of diversity in the industry.

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      I am obsessed with my blood pressure. Can I hack my way out of high readings? | Emma Beddington

      news.movim.eu / TheGuardian · Monday, 18 March - 11:00 · 1 minute

    Whether I’m relaxed, stressed, doing yoga or ingesting enough salt to kill a slug, there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the figures

    I don’t worry about my health. It’s a failure of imagination, I think, plus I’m busy worrying whether I use excess exclamation marks in emails and other important stuff. The last time I saw my GP, my blood pressure was high, but that wasn’t surprising, since it was debilitating anxiety that brought me there. When I went back, several months later, to do a self-check in a little booth in the waiting room, I assumed it would have returned to normal. My first reading was in the “possibly dying, do not leave the surgery” zone; the second and third went down to “come back tomorrow so we can check you’re not dying”. After that, I had to leave the booth because a queue was forming.

    Since then, I have spiralled. Not into health anxiety – I remain unpersuaded my regime of sedentary living, self-induced stress and enough salt to fell a slug army is fundamentally problematic – but into a dumb but entertaining obsession with my blood pressure. Can I hack my way out of high readings without making any lifestyle changes? I have squirrelled away the household blood-pressure monitor (not my purchase) in my office to experiment. Would breathing exercises lower it (research has shown they can )? How about a walk round the garden ( studies suggest interacting with nature can help)? A little blast of yoga (yes, also research-backed ) or classical music ( that can work, too )?

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      ‘The teacher cupped her crotch. She never went back’: when yoga turns toxic

      news.movim.eu / TheGuardian · Saturday, 10 February - 13:00 · 2 minutes

    From my very first downward dog, I was hooked. But training as a yoga teacher led me to a miserable world of false promises, exploitation and near-total burnout. Could I find my way back to the mat?

    In a steamy room in a high-end London gym, I roll on to my right side and open my eyes. A soothing Aussie drawl emerges from the darkness, telling me to sit up, bring my hands together and remember the universe is fundamentally supporting my soul. Everyone here has taken a lunch break from our media, PR or marketing jobs to take this class. Our bearded guru, A, speaks as an Eddie Vedder song plays in the background and I feel a deep sense of relief. For a minute there is peace. In two more, we’ll be ripping off Lycra in the highly charged changing room, before rushing back to our desks with a tiny portion of soup from the chain next door. But for this one minute, three times a week, I feel calm. I feel calm because A looks me in the eye and says everything is going to be OK. I’m not thinking about how my body looks, if the boy I fancy is in the office today, how anyone else’s body looks, what my boss thinks of me … I am simply in the moment. I’m 23 and this is my introduction to yoga, the moment I found myself ready to sign up for everything it could offer me. I had no idea it was the start of a 10-year rollercoaster of giddy highs, miserable exploitation and physical and emotional burnout.

    I was enchanted by “the yoga world” and mesmerised by yoga teachers in general. The incense, the candles and the vague platitudes about the meaning of life were intoxicating. I was at the end of my first relationship and a year into an exciting job at a running magazine. I had no idea what I was doing and felt perpetually out of my depth. I was facing my first ever houseshare after years living with my boyfriend, and I was putting all my anxiety into running. My increasingly unhealthy relationship with food and exercise needed a channel, so why not make it spiritual? Yoga wasn’t just a hobby, it could be a way of life. More than anything, I needed focus. And while most sensible people my age were experimenting with ecstasy and staying out all weekend, I was hellbent on finding my highs elsewhere.

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