A Yoga Manifesto

 I want a dyke yoga teacher. I want a black yoga teacher I want a trans yoga teacher. I want a fat yoga teacher. I want an old yoga teacher. I want a yoga teacher who doesn’t have a guru, but has been to therapy. I want a yoga teacher with tattoos, whose injuries made them a better more informed teacher. I want a yoga teacher that values function over aesthetic, function over tradition. I want a yoga teacher who has committed civil disobedience, a yoga teacher who doesn’t separate yoga and social justice, but blends the two unapologetically. I want a yoga teacher who still needs their day job, because rent and food, but still wants/needs to teach, because breath and movement. I want a yoga teacher who is not an Instagram star, who doesn’t judge yoga selfies, who doesn’t post too many yoga selfies. I want a yoga teacher who’s as warm, kind and authentic outside of the yoga studio as they are inside of it. I want a yoga teacher that practices YOGA off their mat. I want a yoga teacher who doesn’t have a brand, whose brand isn't #loveandlight24/7. I want a yoga teacher that doesn’t call herself a free-spirit-gypsy. I want a yoga teacher who did yoga in the 20th century. I want a yoga teacher who has fallen out of love with yoga and then found their way back. I want a yoga teacher who is out of the honeymoon phase of teaching and still loves it, respects it, and also realizes it’s an incomplete practice with faults like everything else in life. A yoga teacher who isn’t afraid to say fuck it – whatever it is, fuck it. I want a yoga teacher who knows yoga is for every. body. I want a yoga teacher that knows their strengths, understands/respects their limitations and will say no to the gig when it’s not for them, when it’s not best for the students. I want a yoga teacher that doesn't declare what IS/IS NOT yoga. I want a yoga teacher that understands why I want all these things.

- Trisha Durham. (Inspired by Zoe Leonard’s I want a president).