A post about shame.

There are only two reasons why I’m doing this post: A dare from Yoga Rose, and an absence of Steve.

Draupadi, the image of modesty. (Painting by Raja Ravi Varma, via Wikipedia.)

Rose has given Steve a personal invitation to respond to this story about an obviously-naked Ashtanga teacher (the Ashtanga part’s less obvious). As Steve is out of town on Non-Yoga Related Business, you’re stuck with me.

You may be disappointed. I know nothing about Kim Kardashian other than her name is alliterative and sounds like an alien race from Star Trek. I have a vague understanding that she’s had an unusually short marriage and a messy divorce of some kind. That’s about it. So don’t expect much.

There was a big kerfuffle about naked yoga a while back, which makes it old news. But the fact that teacher of the Kardashian is a naked Ashtanga teacher makes it, I suppose, relevant to this blog. His name is Ralph Craig, and he’s described–perhaps in an unconsciously hilarious way–as “a 22-year-old Ashanga yogi and practicing Buddhist.” (My favorite part is the use of “yogi”: like, “See? We know the lingo here at The Hollywood Reporter!”) (Also the “practicing Buddhist” bit; that must make him legit.)

I’ll speak for both the Editors of The Confluence Countdown in saying that we do not approve of Naked Ashtanga. In fact, on the practice floor, both of us are…well, prudish. We get self-conscious if fabric comes above our knees. I sometimes worry if there’s too much exposed back in my tops. I check my seams and fabric thickness to make sure they’ll hold up in forward folds.

It should be said that we do not disapprove of Nudity as a concept. In fact, we’re Pro-Naked. But there’s a certain, oh, I don’t know, flashy kind of near-nakedness we go all grandma on. We generally tisk tisk the wearing of tight underwear-like bottoms, whether male or female. It’s become a matter of controversy in the house if I should wear leggings instead of baggy capris. (Have you no shame, woman!) There’s something modest about the practice that we both feel a kind of affection towards: There. I used the word. I’ll use it again. Modesty.

So there you have it. Get some clothes on, for pity’s sake! Maybe Steve will opine on the virtues of practicing in a t-shirt vs. a tank top in his next post.

Posted with irony by Bobbie

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Two Ashtangis write about their practice and their teachers.

3 thoughts on “A post about shame.”

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