This blog is supposed to be mostly about writing and words (and occasionally bin collections), but this morning I read of the passing at the age of 95 of possibly the most influential Yoga teacher of modern times .
People have often commented that I look young for my age – which was a bane when I
was young (and led me to grow a moustache as soon as hormones would allow) but is quite nice now. I freely admit that it’s a lot to do with genes, but I’ve practised Yoga since I was sixteen and I like to think there’s a link there too.
My first influence was the Sivananda (another great teacher who helped to spread Yoga to the West) system, but as soon as I discovered Iyengar Yoga I became a convert, even though I’ve continued to dabble in both not terribly dissimilar schools.
I never had the chance to attend a class led by Iyengar himself, which in one way is a shame. But he was a demanding teacher who could be forceful (I’m sure with a twinkle in his eye) when getting people into exactly the right posture. I once read that some students claimed that the BKS stood for Bang Kick Slap.
He was one of those rare people whose status expands well beyond their chosen field.