“Imagine you go into a Catholic Church and there’s something called genuflection, where you go down on one knee,” he said. “What if a person comes out of the ceremony — which is supposed to be about their relationship with God — and they say, wow, my legs feel a little sore! And they go home and open up a shop and have people do genuflection for an hour to disco music. And partner genuflection, at that! It’s completely taking it out of context.”

No one seems to know the origins of partner yoga, but its popularity probably has something to do with two of American yoga’s most influential figures — Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, who popularized Ashtanga yoga (which led to Vinyasa, also known as “flow”), and B.K.S. Iyengar, who developed the Iyengar system. Both trained in India, but, according to Dharmanidhi, they focused most of their energy on asana practice rather than pranayama (breathing) or meditation, and the popularity of their systems cemented American yoga’s emphasis on physical poses.

What’s more, many of the current wave of American yoga adopters are athletic types who also gravitate toward activities like dancing, martial arts and gymnastics, which all involve frequent work with partners. It’s unsurprising, then, that when these people started teaching yoga, they incorporated partner work into their classes. This confluence of factors — a culture that emphasized the physical aspects of yoga, teachers with backgrounds in other partner-based athletics, and the American desire to always be doing something new — eventually led to the development of partner yoga. Toss in a healthy dose of New Age”body awareness” and pushing of “comfort zones,” and you’ve got a bona fide fitness fad.

Indeed, there are entire movements devoted to partner yoga — from Contact Yoga to Trust Yoga, Danskinetics and Yogassage, to name just a few. (That’s not even mentioning other non-partner-based atrocities, like disco yoga, reggae yoga, punk yoga and, not kidding, naked yoga.)

At the moment, the trendiest of the partner-based versions seems to be Acroyoga, a San Francisco-based movement that combines “the spiritual wisdom of yoga, the loving kindness of Thai massage, and the dynamic power of Acrobatics.” In other words, you do some yoga moves with a partner and then spend an hour or so climbing on top of one another. It sounded like my own personal hell. But when Thomas jokingly invited me to come with him to an Acroyoga class, I decided to say yes.
Read the rest of this entry »

       

Jan. 23, 2008 | My dislike of partner yoga started with a stranger’s sweaty thighs. I had just moved from Brooklyn, N.Y., to the San Francisco Bay Area, and I was working my way through a Sunday morning Vinyasa class with the same discipline, determination and Type A drive I bring to most attempts at relaxation. But I kept getting distracted by the young man next to me.

To be specific, I was distracted by the moisture he was producing. No sooner had we started sun salutations than the man began to sweat, energetically and abundantly. By the time the class was halfway through, drops of perspiration rolled off his nose with the regularity of a leaking faucet, and a puddle had formed on the floor in front of his mat. Instead of wiping off his face with a towel, he removed his shirt. Now sweat began to drip from a new spot: his nipples.

I, too, was disgusting. Perspiration comes easily to me; I like to say I have a gift. So I was caught off-guard when, after a lovely series of hip openers, the instructor asked us to pair up with a partner. First, I was confused. (A partner? For what?) Then indignant. (I hate group work.) Then anxious. (What if no one wants to be my partner?) By the time I had worked through my emotional process, everyone else was paired up. The young man was mine.
Read the rest of this entry »