Can we take the spiritual lives of women seriously?
For the love of God. Or the universe. Or some other unnamed higher power.
Before I get into it, I’m pleased to let you know that I’m offering my online course Women in Yoga: an exploration starting 18th March. I will cover the topics I write about on my Substack, in more depth and with time for discussions.
Last year I was a guest on a yoga teacher training course where I spoke about my research on harm and abuse in modern yoga contexts. I have to say, I really enjoyed it. The teachers who invited me and their students were so engaged and we had an interesting discussion. One of the questions that stuck with me was about spirituality. It is a question that comes up often, at conferences or on training courses.
In my work one of my points of consideration is this: do people experience spiritual abuse in modern yoga contexts? There is an assumption, within the enquiry, that yoga is a spiritual experience. And so, perhaps, it is unsurprising that I am asked, repeatedly, something along the lines of: surely, in our secular world, in which people go to yoga classes in gyms, for exercise, yoga is not a spiritual experience. How, therefore, can the harm (physical assault, sexual harassment, coercion) experienced in yoga contexts be considered spiritual abuse? At one conference, I was told by an audience member (not a researcher) that people, in yoga classes, are there for exercise, not spirituality. Whilst this may be true for some, it is not what I’ve found in my research.
At this point, I must acknowledge that I have not exclusively interviewed women, but, they are the majority. This is expected, given the majority of practitioners of (modern, globalised, anglophone) yoga are women. And, in turn, the majority of my interviewees have, often without prompt, talked about the spiritual nature of their yoga practice, their desire for genuine spiritual success, their search for a teacher with insight, to learn from. Several have talked about how the yoga class or studio they frequented became, at the height of their dedication, a church-like or a sacred space. Others have travelled to see gurus, to live at ashrams, and given their time, and knowledge, to the spiritual community in pursuit of spiritual goals. There’s no doubt their experiences were, and are, spiritual.
And yet, outside of my research, I encounter a sense of doubt. This is part of a wider problem that I will also address in my work: it is not enough to give space for survivors to speak. We must also listen, understand, and act on what they say.
Have women’s spiritual lives ever been taken seriously?
In my last Substack I wrote about some of the women who have, and continue, to influence how we know and practice yoga today. In order to understand why yoga is now seen as an activity for women, we also have to look at the bigger picture, the cultural landscape, into which yoga evolved. Yogic ideas were absorbed into, and associated with, alternative spiritual practices, in part due to the Theosophical Society (co-founded by Madame Blavatsky in 1875). They gave lectures and published books, including early translations of the Yoga Sutras. At that time the Theosophists were not the only ones giving lectures of a spiritual nature.
In his 2018 article, Philip Deslippe maps out the swami circuit: a circuit of swamis (religious Indian men) who travelled around the USA in the late 19th to mid 20th century teaching people who were on the whole ‘female, affluent, and invested in American metaphysical religion’. Large, general audiences heard lectures of a philosophical and psychological nature, whilst smaller or private audiences anticipated their teachers were ‘adepts and holders of secret knowledge’ (9: 2018). Deslippe notes that such women were mocked in magazine articles: the swamis were seen as a threat to their sanity and finances (30: 2018).
One of the swamis, Yogi Rao, counted ‘literally two of the richest women in world, as his devoted students’ (30: 2018). Is this something to be mocked, or taken seriously? What can it tell us about the desire for a spiritual life? Or about the larger cultural shifts away from mainstream religion? At the end of the 19th and early 20th century women were gaining new found power, suffrage, and independence that they had previously been denied in places like the UK, America, Europe and their subsequent colonies. They were granted more rights in educational settings and workplaces. The church did not keep up. In the US, particularly, mainstream churches were uninterested in supporting radical things like women’s rights, or the abolition of slavery. Is it any wonder that women looked elsewhere when it came to their spiritual lives? Yoga and yogic ideas were bound up with what were considered alternative spiritual movements and this is where women turned.
I’m still in the midst of my research but what I’ve learnt so far is that it’s vital that when women tell me they sought out, and had, spiritual experiences in yoga contexts, I believe them. As researchers, advocates, allies, decent human beings, if we are going to believe survivors (which I do), we must believe the whole story, that is, the spiritual parts as well as the harmful and abusive parts.
To learn more about the spiritual lives of women within yoga, from the pre-modern to today, read more about and sign up for my course Women in Yoga: an exploration here.
In person yoga classes at Calderdale Yoga Centre, Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire
Yin Yoga, Fridays 6-7.15pm
7th March
4th April
I contributed to a book, The Yoga Teacher’s Survival Guide: Social Justice, Science, Politics, and Power, edited by Theo Wildcroft and Harriet McAtee. My chapter is titled ‘Trauma, Yoga, and Spiritual Abuse’. Other contributors include Donna Farhi, Jules Mitchell, and Jivana Heyman. If you’re a yoga teacher, I highly recommend reading. You can buy your copy here from Bookshop.org (aff link).