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Jessamyn Stanley’s new book begins with a story about a mistake. In Yoke: My Yoga of Self Acceptance, Stanley writes about a late-night email from a reader who found a typo in her first book, Every Body Yoga. Stanley meant to write “yoke,” as in “to unite”—in this case referring to the mind, spirit, and body. (“Yoga” is thought to be derived from the Sanskrit word yuj, which translates as "to yoke," "to join," or "to unite.") But “yolk,” the yellow part of an egg, made it to print instead.
What happened next? Exactly what you might expect. Stanley freaked out, contemplated calling her publisher, and considered writing to the reader. Then she got on her yoga mat and let herself feel everything that cropped up. “I needed a close encounter with my imposter syndrome,” Stanley tells SELF, adding that examination is an ongoing process. “I needed to stare it down.”
This opening anecdote sets the tone for the entire book. In Yoke ($14, Amazon), we encounter Jessamyn Stanley, the widely read author, committed yogi, and respected teacher. We also witness a human being (a “Virgo rising”) who is learning to accept herself just like the rest of us. Stanley examines herself as searingly as she explores capitalism, cultural appropriation, white guilt, and cannabis consumption. She shares her triumphs, her failures, and the ways she’s still unfolding. Those experiences become doorways for the reader to cultivate what Stanley calls “the yoga of every day,” or the way we can apply poses and postures to our daily experience.
For Stanley, mistakes and imperfections are essential aspects of practice. ”I want to enjoy the moments where I am happy, smiling, and proud,” she says. “But those feelings don't exist without mistakes. There's no way to learn to stand without falling.”
Below, Stanley (who is also a SELF columnist) talks about her fears, thoughts on cultural appropriation, her decision to write about her assault, and the one thing she hopes you’ll get from reading Yoke.
SELF: You wrote most of the book pre-pandemic, right? What was the process like?
Stanley: It was much more complicated than I had anticipated. I wrote Every Body Yoga pretty quickly. And this book, I remember when I proposed it, they were like, “How long do you need to write it?” And I was like, “I could do it in a year.” It’s four years later.
The first couple of years were just research. I was reading, and I was watching some things, but mostly reading. I did a lot of research about American yoga history and how we, as a society, got to this understanding of wellness. I explored how American yoga culture reflects the different problems in our culture, like racism, sexism, capitalism. Yoga is way older than America, and it is much bigger, yet it has been fundamentally impacted by this experience. And that, to me, is really interesting.
You write about cultural appropriation versus appreciation. How do you navigate that line in your own life?
I think that so much of American yoga ends up being an appropriation of yoga practiced in South Asia. But being conscious of when I’m using Sanskrit is a big one for me. Everybody has different opinions about whether or not it's okay to use Sanskrit, whether or not it's important, and whether it's disrespectful not to use Sanskrit because it's showing a lack of reverence. I also think a lot about how Sanskrit has been used in South Asia to control people and that it has become this whole issue of class and caste. It's so deeply wrapped up in South Asian heritage and culture.
And for me, I'm using it because I’m trying to be respectful of this practice, but at the same time, I want to be respectful of the real people who are carrying that lineage in their blood. So it's really important for me to be critical of everything that I'm doing—not so that I can judge myself, but to see the full picture.
That makes sense.
I've always wondered if the reason that I think about any of this is because I'm Black, and I’ve watched people appropriate my culture for so long. But as a practitioner, I'm like, “Be conscious of what you are doing, and how it could be harmful to other people.” And the reality is that I don't think there's a way to not potentially offend somebody. I think that you will. It's just life. But awareness can do a lot.
Are there stories in the book that you’re afraid for people to read?
Oh, I have huge fear. Like big fear. I would say there are no chapters in the book that I have not felt some feeling of, Oh, shit. I'm really telling the truth on this one. I felt fear about the white guilt, even though I know it to be my truth. But I wrote the book because I've been feeling all of these things in my practice and wanting to ask other people, “Do you feel this way too? Is this something that has ever come up for you?” And if the answer is, “No, I've never felt that way. And I don't know what you're talking about. And actually, what you've written here really offends me,” I'm like, “Tell me more. That's amazing. I would love to hear more about this.” This is a real conversation.
In your chapter about self-love, you disclose your sexual assault. And you write, “Hating myself is a reflex of getting to know myself.” What is that reflex like? What's the process of knowing yourself and being offended or hating yourself?
Honestly, the assault I talked about in Yoke was the one I felt comfortable sharing. There's a bunch of other shit that I didn’t talk about. But not wanting to look at my assault was why I ended up talking about it. Because I was like, “I hate myself for this.” I don't know if it's because I let it fester for so long or if it was like that right out of the gate. But it has resulted in me really being deeply resentful toward myself, and that doesn't just show up in how I treat myself. It’s how I communicate, the way that I think about other people, the things that I think other people should do with their lives and their bodies. It's all just a reverberating monster of me not accepting myself. And I think that in gazing upon it, I realized I don’t need to sit in anger about it, but that I was allowed to experience every emotion attached to it.
I'm allowed to feel sad, and I'm allowed to feel confused, and I'm allowed to feel vengeful, and I'm allowed to feel ashamed, and I'm allowed to be embarrassed, and I'm allowed to be mad, and I'm allowed to feel bloodlust-y. The people that were also involved: They could be dealing with any emotion. But what I will do is give myself permission to feel all of it and not be ashamed. That has been deeply cathartic for me.
Any advice for cultivating that permission? It seems like such a place of self-compassion.
Totally. That is what the practice of yoga is for me. It’s practicing compassion over and over again. In my experience, it has been very helpful to practice physically before trying to understand in a mental and emotional way. It took years of physical practice before I understood what was happening in a mental, emotional way. I say, “Do yoga postures,” but the postures are just a combination of Indian weightlifting, gymnastics, and calisthenics. It could be any kind of movement.
Using the way that you think about your body as a jumping-off point can help. So like saying, “Yeah, I say shitty things about myself. Period, and I'm not going to try to make an excuse for it. I'm not going to try to pretend like that's not the case. I'm not going to try to blame it on anyone else.” Just accepting that and practicing that every day is plenty of work on an emotional level. And from there, it just escalates. There are endless things to be compassionate about.
Is there one thing you hope folks take away from your work?
Just be yourself. Whatever that means, whoever that is, on whatever day it is. It's going to change every day, and that's great, too, because whoever you are is needed. And what you bring to this world is important. And there's nothing that ever happened to you that wasn't exactly what it needed to be. And I'm grateful for it. And if no one else on this planet ever told you that what you have to offer is important, then please know that there's this little dyke in Durham, North Carolina, who believes that you are important.
This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.
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