Contact Julie at fieldsofyoga@gmail.com to book your spot!
Please note, classes will be paused on the following dates:
2-5 December 2014 for National Day
21-28 December 2014 for Christmas Holidays
31 December 2014 - 2 January 2015 for New Years Celebrations
When people ask me about my first experience with yoga, I always tell them it was in 2001, in Antwerp, Belgium at a small community center. We were taught in Flemish by a short, rotund smiling woman named Mevrouw Maria who showed us the very basics of breath work, meditation and postures. It was in the winter when the days were short and the nights were long and cold and I had to dress in layers to keep from freezing in the crowded, dimly lit attic room reserved for our Yoga voor beginners class. However, upon further reflection I've realized that my first introduction to this ancient practice did not happen in 2001. My first exposure to yoga was much, much earlier in 1975 at the tender age of seven at a place called Elysium Fields in Topanga, California.
Elysium Fields was a clothing optional, members-only recreational park where my brothers and I lived with my recently divorced mother. She was an administrative assistant at Elysium and like many women in the 1970's had adopted a freer, hippy way of life after leaving her traditional and conservative marriage. The property was vast and consisted of several acres of wooded areas and manicured lawns. There were tennis courts, a swimming pool, saunas, huge jacuzzi, volleyball courts and various buildings for social gatherings. It was beautiful. Members and their families spent lazy weekends having picnics, participating in workshops and spending their free time at Elysium. As children, my brothers and I spent many, many hours during the day running around playing, swimming and exploring the property. In one of the main buildings was a space called the Ankh Room. It was a huge open space permeated by a permanent scent of patchouli and sandalwood and lined with huge cushions. It was here that my very first exposure to yoga happened. I didn't participate, I just watched. I don't have very detailed memories of that time but what I do remember about the practice, the space and the people is that it was raw and organic. There were no expensive yoga mats. The floor was not made out of highly polished bamboo flown in from an exotic Southeast Asian country. The yogis were not wearing expensive, famously-branded yoga clothing. In fact, they probably weren't wearing any clothing at all, but that's another story. There might have been music, and then again, perhaps there wasn't. What I remember is that the practice was the essence of what many of us try to offer in yoga classes: connecting the mind, body and spirit through our breath, meditation, and postures. The focus was on each individual's practice, not on achieving a particular advanced pose. Thinking about that time, that space and those people makes me wonder, how is it that forty years later we must peel away many layers of commercialism, marketing, social media photos and glossy magazine images to get back to the essence of yoga?
How did we go from this
to this? 
Is the billion dollar yoga industry slowly deteriorating the essence of what we as yoga teachers are trying to share with our fellow yogis? Look at any yoga studio schedule and you will find a plethora of options: Bikram, Ashtanga, Hot, Vinyasa, Yin, Kundalini, Anusara, Sivananda, Yogalates, Power, Restorative, Therapeutic, Acro, Aerial and the list goes on and on. Furthermore at an average of $20 (75aed) per class, one would have to be willing to spend hundreds of dollars per month to have a regular, guided practice in their local studio. Then there are the clothes or better said, the price of the clothes. Don't get me wrong, those famous yoga clothing brands produce really beautiful pieces that accentuate and support one's body in all the right areas. However, I always find it difficult to justify spending $100 or more on a pair of leggings that I will wear for a couple of hours whilst rolling around on the floor and sweating. As a person who actually earns a living through the highly commercialized and popular yoga industry, I don't want to appear a hypocrite Rather, I ask myself, am I true to the essence of what I am trying to share?
Yama (ethical values and social restraints) is one of Patanjali's eight limbs of yoga. There are five Yamas (in Sutras II:34-39), three of which are Satya (truthfulness and integrity), Brahmacharya (path to the Divine through moderation) and Aparigraha (minimalism or lack of greed). Are photoshopped images of yogis posted on social media and in magazines an example of Satya in practice? Is aiming for a big profit margin in yoga businesses true to Brahmacharya and Aparigraha? One of the branches of yoga is Karma Yoga, selfless giving. How many of us actually practice this? What do we do in the yoga community without asking for anything in return?
The reality is that yoga space costs money and if you're in Dubai or any other major metropolitan city in the world, it costs a lot of money. Like everyone else, yoga teachers need to eat, pay a mortgage and settle their debts. At no point during the basic 200-hour yoga teacher training do we, as yoga teachers, take a vow of poverty. Having said that, I can't help but wonder, where is the line between earning a fair wage and contradicting Aparigraha? As stated in the Bhagavad Gita*, "Yoga is not for one who eats too much, or for one who fasts too much, nor sleeps too much or sleeps too little, but instead lives in a harmonious flow along the middle path." This begs the question, where is our middle path?
As a self-employed yoga teacher I often struggle with this question. When setting prices for classes and yoga products I struggle with Aparigraha and feel conflicted between wanting to earn a decent living and asking a fair price. When posting photos on the Fields of Yoga Dubai Facebook page, I choose only the few flattering photos, not one of the many images of me with an unflattering grimace on my face or the body slightly out of alignment or, God forbid, a bit of cellulite showing. Where is the integrity- the Satya- in that? Is it lying by omission?
A mantra that I repeat to my students during my yoga classes is "Your breath, your body, your practice" in an effort to encourage them to focus on themselves and to make their practice their own rather than focussing on the person next to them. Perhaps we as yoga teachers need to approach the business of yoga in the same way? I wonder if the answer is to make the application of Pantanjali's sutras personal and individual just as we do on our mats during our yoga practice? Through introspection and reflection those in the yoga industry can come to a decision as to what degree we apply the Sutras and to what degree we participate in the commercialization of the yoga industry. Yoga teachers regularly define our own practice and, therefore, should be able to define our own middle path. Would the world-wide yoga industry be raw and organic, just as I witnessed it back in 1975, if our drishti was on the Yamas rather than on personal gain?
*a 700-verse Hindu scripture that is part of the Hindu epic Mahabharata
