People get joy from many different sources: loved ones,
life-changing experiences, food. It’s more common to experience this emotion
while in communion with nature, whether that’s in the form of humans, animals,
plants or just the biosphere in general. But this sensation can also be
produced artificially, some would say “reproduced,” through electronic media.
One should not be reliant on electronic media for joy or to
meet any other emotional needs, yet I can’t help but feel joyful whenever I
hear the introduction of my yoga DVD. “Here you are, at the beginning of a
great journey: yoga.” These are the words coming out of Rodney Yee’s mouth. He
is a predictably sculpted, serene man in a tropical paradise.
“It makes all the difference in the world to get a good
start,” he continues. “Colleen and I have distilled many years of our yoga
practice to bring you the essential yoga postures for a good, strong yoga
foundation.” Over the course of 45 seconds, it feels like he says “yoga” at
least 20 times, but it’s really only six. I’ve watched that introduction so
many times that I can recite it as he says it. I’m sure that, if he could hear
me, Rodney would be very impressed.
Even though this is only a simulacrum of a yogi in Hawai’i,
the effect is almost like being there. Just being reminded that such places
still exist is soothing, especially when you live in Minnesota in the middle of
winter, and you’re trying not to break your neck from slipping on the ice or contract
some form of cancer from breathing in the car exhaust fumes as you walk back to
your apartment.
I wish I could say this was a holiday gift, but it was just
a random, non-seasonal purchase for myself. Although, in emotional terms, it’s
the gift to myself that keeps on giving. The opening promos identify Mr. Yee as
“America’s favorite yoga instructor.” This may be hyperbolic commercial
messaging, but he’s certainly my
favorite yoga instructor.
I’ve been forced to rely on the DVD because of the lack of
beginner yoga classes at my health club. I’d much rather do yoga with other
human beings who are physically present (if not always spiritually present).
But the routines they practice are generally too demanding for me. Even the
easier ones are a strain on my joints and muscles.
One of the instructors said she’d just come from teaching a
class at a women’s prison. After trying to keep up with the routine for 20
minutes, I wondered if she was at the prison as a service to the inmates or if
it was a violation of the Geneva Conventions.
But Rodney isn’t like that. He’s a generous, considerate
instructor who moves slowly and gently between poses. He says things like “reach
through your heels” or “wiggle your waist long,” and, on some level, I feel
like I know what he means. Even though our relationship is electronically mediated
through artificial, one-sided interactions with a recording of him, we seem to connect
on a very deep level.
There’s also a woman named Colleen on the DVD. I’m guessing she’s
Rodney’s wife. They both appear to be wearing wedding bands. She’s OK, but
Rodney is clearly the star of the show.
It’s like I’m with them on the beaches and verdant outcrops
of Hawai’i, with the waves breaking in the background. I may not be caressed by
the same sea breezes that are kissing their perfect bodies, but at least I know
how it feels. To be in Hawaii, I mean, not to have a perfect body. I certainly
wouldn’t own a yoga DVD if I had one of those.
I am often refreshed and relaxed at the end of each routine.
But the real miracle is that I can feel anything after twisting and contorting
my body into the pretzel shapes that Rodney and Colleen perform. This is a
testament to their expertise and their ability to not make me feel like an out-of-shape
schlub when my pose form falls far short of their example.
So here’s to you, Rodney Yee! (And, to a lesser extent,
Colleen.) I’ll probably never meet you, but I feel like I know you, and you’ve
had a positive impact on my life (more positive than a lot of people I have met).
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