FLYING PIGEON POSEWorking as an assistant director on TV commercials
affords me a good living. I love the process; I love
the people. I just don’t like the end result. I am help-
ing sell discontentment and the false idea that there
is this external thing—be it an air freshener, a cell
phone plan, a car—a thing you can pay for that will
make you happier. I realized this a couple of years
ago and thought, “What am I doing to people? Why
am I putting my time and energy and effort into this
activity I ultimately don’t agree with?”
So I do plan on transitioning out at some
point. Doing commercials has provided me
with the income and flexible schedule I need to
attend yoga teacher trainings. I am currently
doing a teaching apprenticeship, which I con-
sider my night school. When I am however old,
fifty or fifty-five, and hopefully have been finan-
cially responsible enough to have saved some
money, I will lead retreats or own a studio.
Right now, my concern is: How can I bring my
yoga onto a commercial film set? I’m managing
a crew of seventy people; how can I be present
for them? And how can I conduct my life in an
ethical and conscious way? I was on a job last
week and noticed there was less meat served
on set, and the craft service girl told me it was
because she’d become a vegetarian. I thought
about casual conversations she and I have had in
the past—I became a vegan as part of my yoga
practice—and I don’t know, but maybe those
conversations influenced her decision in some
way. Other times my coworkers come to me and
say their lower back is hurting, and ask me for
some stretches.
Some people joke about it. If I get stressed
on a set, people are like, “What’s going on, Yoga
Man? Not staying calm?” I’ll think, “They’re
right,” and work on settling myself down.