When I think about how this all began, it was on an extraordinarily dry Australian summer afternoon. Smoke from the bush fires wafted on the wind, and I could feel the sweat, unmoving, on my skin. Amanda and I were meeting for chai, for the first time, at a cafe she’d chosen in Northcote, Melbourne, Australia. You see, I’m not from here—Aus. I had relatively recently moved from Canada, with my partner, to finish my doctorate, and I was looking for an experienced teacher to supervise and mentor me as a developing practitioner and teacher. Somehow, in the midst of this, I had ended up on a mat at Mysore Melbourne. And, only a few minutes into realizing how the system worked, I was pretty well hooked: I can’t think of a more direct and empowering way to teach. But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
On this particular afternoon, Amanda and I were meeting to talk about my situation, practicing and at that time teaching vinyasa, but drawn to the Mysore-style practice of Ashtanga. That afternoon, we had a rich and wonderful conversation that went to the heart of the thing: what does it mean to teach yoga? Especially now, in this increasingly westernized, commodity-driven world. And, what does it really mean to practice Mysore-style Ashtanga yoga—a practice that demands consistency, repetition, and trust? This would be the first of a number of heartfelt, sometimes raw conversations. I remember once, Amanda’s eyes misted and she began to cry, as we talked about what it means to call a teaching, a class, ‘yoga’—what is really at stake in the modern business of yoga. These are questions we still don’t have total answers to. And, there were emails too, long rambly, and excited, about the practice, all that I was learning, and Amanda’s rich history of experience and ongoing development. There were book recommendations, personal reflections, and practical tips on not clogging up your tub with castor oil… that’s a work in progress.
I think it was Amanda who mentioned it first, the possibility that we could write something together. We talked about the possibility of interviews or specific topics, all the while persistent conversations about recipes, morning routines, personal insights, and philosophy carried on as they had. It wasn’t long before the notion of a blog was floated. It seemed natural that all the directs of this multifaceted conversation might be part of it. I, always feeling like I am demanding too much as a student, I asked her permission to start a blog about yoga, as her student, and I bashfully noted how great it would be if she could contribute sometimes too. The next day, at the shala, she said, “I love it! You’re wrong about one thing: I do have the time!” And so, it was hatched. It would take weeks for us to get a name together, and longer to sift out the mundane details of how we would choose to ‘draw into relief’ the ‘abstract, formlessness’ of our spiritual aspirations. Finally, we came up with this blog.
Mysore Mornings:Here, we are drawing together the threads and wisps of our teacher-student relationship—tracing down the trajectories and webs of our conversations, my ever persistent questions, and Amanda’s patient work of answering them. Here, drawn into relief in the digital expanse, is a record of one teacher student relationship, for others to look in on, engage with, and hopefully find some kind of solidarity.
Sometimes, it is lonely work, tracking the Jungle Doctor in the mists of delusion, through the forest of the self. This is a practice for householders, and we are certainly preoccupied with homes, families, jobs, and the other mundane requirements of daily life. In addition to sharing the relationship between teacher and student, Mysore Mornings offers a platform, a notebook, if you will, of other thoughts, ideas, and practical learnings about living the Ashtanga lineage, as taught by Sri. Pattabhi Jois and cultivated by Sharath Jois. From ayurvedic recipes to conversations with the Gita, we hope to share the daily life of living the path.
Mysore style Ashtanga yoga rooms are notoriously anonymous spaces but the practice is powerfully intimate. You might see the same faces day to day for years and scarcely have a conversation with them as you jostle the demands of the morning schedule and the sanctity of the personal practice. Still, we know one another, and we share this radical, unique, downright crazy thing of practicing! Through Mysore Mornings, we hope to draw on the rich wisdom of ordinary practitioners: the parents, professionals, and dedicated aspirants who make up the persistent cast of Mysore rooms.
Taking up this conversation, We are humble and grateful, bowing at the lotus feet of the Guru. May our work together lead us from darkness to light. May our feet stay grounded in the river of parampara; may we not wander astray. We ask Patanjali, the Jungle Doctor, to guide us. We rest in Guruji’s teachings. We rest by Sharathji’s feet.
In the spirit of curiosity and shared community, we introduce ourselves: the two voices that will carry on this conversation.
Amanda FerrisIntroducing myself is awkward because one of my core values is to investigate, question and ultimately wake up to exactly who or what I am. This is an ongoing inquiry and I’m not finished with it just yet. At this point, I’m pretty sure I am not my life circumstances, I am not the country I live in, and I am not the roles I play. However, I’m conscious that I need some of these things to locate myself within the world I live, and also within this conversation, as it will unfold.
So, for that matter, I am Amanda. I live in Thornbury, which is a Northern suburb of Melbourne, in Australia, which is my accidental home of now 16 years. I am mother to a school aged little boy with crazy hair, very few teeth, and a whole lot of ideas. I am also a Level 2 KPJAYI Authorised teacher and I cultivate and nourish a community of Ashtanga yoga practitioners at Mysore Melbourne, which is my daily, early-morning labour of love. For me, this feels like tending a greenhouse full of plants. I am a gardener, rather delighted to see which plants are in bud or flower, which stems are fading and falling away.
My work as an Ashtanga yoga teacher is an extension of my own dedicated practice of the last 18 years. Teaching was something I felt enthusiastic about in very early days. In my 20s, I (very shyly) asked my teacher Sharath if I might one day have the blessing to teach like he does. Now 40 years old, I understand that teaching is something one lives into. And with this understanding, I look at my life and feel very grateful for the relationships, exchanges, and conversations that have guided and nourished me on my path.
I learn through my efforts to communicate with others. My undergraduate education at Sarah Lawrence College in New York, gave me an appreciation for thinking and developing ideas through the written word. My postgrad studies in Landscape Architecture at The University of Melbourne allowed space to consider and value other, visual and digital ways to express ideas and feelings. Difficult personal and family relationships, motivate me to become wise and express myself clearly. There is some struggle in all these efforts to communicate. And there is also evolution. Insight. Learning.
It is in the spirit of learning, evolution, and love that I enter this conversation, Mysore Mornings, with Lara and with you!
Lara FullenwiederI’m an academic, a writer, a householder, and a spiritual aspirant. I live in Northcote, Australia and I share my time between practicing and assisting, drinking a lot of tea and writing. I have a doctorate in cultural studies, because having partied, travelled, and made just-okay art, I found that academia was my most direct route to answering my questions. I’ve spent the last near decade writing, learning, and beginning to contribute to conversations about contemporary art, politics, and power. Even as I write for work, I have journalled consistently since I was a teenager, writing short fiction, and poetry intermittently. As yoga has become an increasingly central part of my life, I’ve been drawn to tease open my thoughts and feelings about it through writing.
I have flirted with yoga sporadically from the age of 16, when an aunt gave me a strange book full of scrawny people in leotards. However, it wasn’t until the deskbound demands of grad school that I began a yoga practice in earnest. Initially, I practiced a mix of vinyasa and so-called power yogas and in 2012 I completed an accredited yoga teacher training in Canada. I had already been teaching in a truly wonderful, and profoundly unique, donation based studio in Canada. There I was lucky to work under the mentorship of some beautiful souls, whose focus on hands-on assistance and gender neutral language made me feel as though I was engaged in an authentic and meaningful practice.
In 2014, I moved to Melbourne, from Kingston, Ontario. Uprooted from all that I know and so many who I love, the change, while exciting and refreshing, was more radical for my heart and body than I knew at the time. Lost in a sea of diverse practices and studios, the search for an advanced and committed teacher—I call them lifers—brought me to Amanda at Mysore Melbourne. Eternal thanks to the wonderful recommendation of Victoria English, also a Mysore teacher. The moment I understood how the teaching is communicated, I realized this was where I was supposed to be. For me, this would be the only way. Since, I have trained and begun assisting Amanda at Mysore Melbourne.
Inquisitive by nature, I have so many questions—banal, mundane, and lofty—about the living of this lineage. New to Ashtanga, I began the search for as much information as I could find: about the lineage, about practitioners, about the lifestyle, and about the philosophy that choreographs this Mysore-style dance with life. In some areas, I found heaps of knowledge I could never hope to consume; in others, I found a veritable lack. It is my hope here, that we will begin to score the surface and keep that learning coming. As I continue, each morning, to seek out the jungle doctor, in the midst of my heart and body, I’m excited to be able to tease open my own experiences and thoughts and to share my treasured conversations with Amanda.
Welcome. We are so looking forward to carrying on this conversation, from the candle-lit vibrations of morning practice to the ether of the internet. We’re sharing this, our first and introductory post, along with a handful of other morsels for you to read and hopefully engage with. In the upcoming weeks, more will trickle in. In the meantime… Om shanti shanti shanti
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