Natural Health

Naked yoga isn't just for gays. But, well, puh-lease ...

 
 

kay, so this isn’t really gay, per se, but, let’s just say that my gaydar needle practically busted when I attended Naked Yoga for Men. Bob Sparling, one of the founders, had been prodding me to try it for a couple of years, so I could reveal what it’s like to the readers of Boston Spirit, the magazine I edit.

The Boston arm of this nationwide naked-yoga phenomenon has been going strong for more than 10 years, which seemed as good a reason as any to drop my pre-conceived notions—and my (yikes!) pants.

I’ve downward-facing-dogged my way through many a Hub yoga classes, but, let’s face it: Sweating it up in a studio of wall-to-wall mats topped with yoga’s primary demographic—heterosexual housewives—can be, well, uninspiring to gay guy like me.

For $15, Sparling told me, on Thursday and Sunday evenings in Central Square, I could join 10 to 20 scraggly bearded Walt Whitman lookalikes and toned, young athletes—and every shape, size, age, and orientation in between—for a basic yoga practice, stripped down to the essentials.

Honestly, once I got into the routine, the room might as well have been filled with grandmothers in leotards—it was all about my own inner focus. And why not do yoga the way the ancients did it?

For more information, including times, location, and multi-class discounts, join the online group.

Blogger James Lopata is editor of Boston Spirit magazine.