“Yoga Bitch” by Suzanne Morrison

When last year I reviewed how many books I read, I was shocked how little it was! So for this year, my goal has been to read at least 10 pages every day. I am not managing to do it every day yet but on most days, I can get it done. After “Untamed” by Glennon Doyle, I decided to pick up something a bit lighter and slightly more entertaining and ended up with “Yoga Bitch: One Women’s Quest to Conquer Skepticism, Cynicism and Cigarettes on the Path to Enlightenment” by Suzanne Morrison.

“Yoga Bitch” is an autobiographical novel or more like memoire of Morrison’s travels to Bali where she took two months yoga course to become a yoga teacher. I know that this description might make you think that the book is all spiritual and fancy, but this was not the case. This book is funny and sarcastic and it had me genuinely laughing out loud several times when I was reading it.

Suzanne is a 25-year-old, slightly cynical young women from Seattle, who being inspired by her yoga teacher Indra, decides to head to Bali for two months yoga training right before her big move to New York. She tries to immerse herself in the yogi culture, survive the heat and the weird yoga rituals and things she does not quite get like urine therapy. It is quite an entertaining read to follow someone as sceptical as Suzanne on their spiritual exploration quest.

I had a few of my favourite quotes that stood out to me:


That’s one of the problems with doing anything for a long time. Staying home, for instance. The longer you stay, the more you believe your identity is wrapped up in the people and things around you. You become trapped. It seems as if you fear the change because you can’t let go of this illusion of yourself as being what?


Being detached means recognizing our emotions as what they are: clouds, sunbursts, weather. They pass. So rather than feed on my anger or sadness, rolling about in it like a pig in its own filth, I see it as weather, and know that in tie it will pass.


The strongest among us are the atheists. The weakest are those of us who would believe, if only we could. We are the most susceptible to despair. We want to believe, we sense there might be something out there, but we can’t find it, can’t feel it, or can’t believe in it. And calling ourselves agnostics doesn’t do a damned bit of good.


And yes, this book does not have a great love story in it or a great enlightenment or some crazy ending. But I was quite okay with this – not every story in life has a climatic ending – that is the part of life.

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