This is good

I finally got David Keil’s Functional Anatomy of Yoga book.

What the F&%?

Like many real yogis, “Functional Anatomy” was just another book to collect for the purpose of collecting it, as if by owning this and an assortment of other yoga and spiritual-ly inclined books with Sanskrit letterings and pictures of Ganesh that I would, simply by appearing more yogic, become so, or at least look that way to others dropping by my house (the latter taking priority, of course). Oh I may have dog-eared and weathered my copies of Iyengar’s Light on Yoga and Swami Satchitananda’s Yoga Sutras and Lino Miele’s Ashtanga Yoga books, but countless other titles (that shall not be mentioned for fear of being dispatched to yoga hell to swim in hot, boiling kombucha and rancid post-mysore practice sweat) remain on shelves purely for appearance’s sake. I also purchased the book just to take a photo of me with it for my Instagram feed, to follow in the footsteps of countless other yogis before me. It is, after all, the Instagram accessory du jour, particularly if you identify as an Ashtangi. Finally, I purchased the book for occasional need-based perusal, kind of like a dictionary. For example, say you’re at a yoga thing and the teacher starts talking about “grounding the femur” and you have no idea what the “femur” is (it’s a leg bone, or is that the humerus? which part of the leg? what’s the humerus, anyway?) but of course you nod your head knowingly. That’s when you go home, pull out Functional Anatomy and look up “femur.”

There you have it: my three reasons for obtaining the book. Maybe there’s a fourth: I like David Keil.

Of course, I still wasn’t planning to actually read an Anatomy book. As if!

First, I took my time obtaining the book, choosing to join a group order with a mysore community I knew I wouldn’t have occasion to visit for awhile. The order’s ringleader sent several messages about getting Functional Anatomy in my hands, especially once she learned of my travel plans.

Functional Anatomy Ringleader: “you don’t think you would want the book for the trip?”

Me: F–K no! I mean, on my 8-hour plus journey with a three-year-old I’d love nothing more than to sit on a plane, and rather than indulging in a novel or a flick when I’m not being pelted with tantrums, I’d like instead to read scientific mumbo jumbo about the muscles and bones and sh*t in the human body? Sorry, but “Anatomy book” and “vacation” are two words that should never occupy the same sentence.

Flash forward to me sitting here with the book. It’s go time! Let’s Instagram the sh*t out of this acquisition and be done with it!

Imagine my annoyance when I pick up the paperback (knowing my relationship with it may never go further than a perusal) only to find myself reading it:

• Bewitching stuff at the the back! I’m talking about the “Anatomical Patterns in Asana” section with its DK tutorial on arm balances and how to work into a handstand? Geez, David Keil, how did you know that deep down this ashtangi really wants to nail a handstand (without a wall) so I can share photos of the feat ad infinitum on Instagram a la Kino? Wait, did I just write that out loud? Damn you, David Keil.
• Fetching stuff at the front! “If you are reading this book to learn what your students should or shouldn’t do with this or that condition or pain, the answer is, “There is No answer.” Oh yes I am serious. If you think these conditions can be boiled down, categorized, systematized, and then spat back, you will never be a great teacher.” Way to be clear, smart honest and engaging in the intro David Keil. What happened to the boring medicinal anatomy jargon?
• Mesmerizing stuff in the middle. Really, David Keil? Surely the meat of an anatomy book should be full of auto-correct nightmares in the form of words identifying muscles, bones, ligaments, and while there are a few of those, what’s with the “Integrating Anatomy into Your Practice” section that follows chapters on the knee, hip joint and so on? These bits are gold, as in, I’m going to actually integrate this into my practice. And don’t get me started on your stuff about “exploring the psoas and bandhas while jumping back and up” and “exploring torn hamstring and sit bone pain in asanas.” That sh*t is again, practical, interesting, and, well, like getting a workshop with you. For the price of a book. Sigh. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at how easy this book is to ingest, given your funny launch video.

I didn’t want to want to read your Functional Anatomy of Yoga book, David Keil. Now, I want to read it and not just scantily– I want to read the whole damn thing. It’s that damn good.

What the f&@$!