Starting Point
The idea for this article came from Vincent Prud’homme, whom I was fortunate enough to have as a yoga student during two training programs—the introductory course a few years ago and the advanced course more recently. Here I’m sharing an email he sent me at the end of his latest training; you’ll see why it resonated with me:
A Journey Through Elise’s Yoga World.
I traveled through this land without a map. I admit I got a little lost at the very beginning…
But that’s normal—when you discover a place you don’t know, everything seems strange, far removed from what you’re already familiar with. There I discovered a language of great precision and sensitivity. Through repeated visits, I learned to decipher this language, which spoke more to my body than to my mind. A simple yet powerful language that accompanied me and allowed my body to take root, find its place, and then one day soar and claim its space. Because that’s exactly what it’s all about with Élise: opening up toward space!
I also realized that there could be no maps in this land, simply because there are no roads or paths mapped out in advance. I discovered that here, you draw your own map—and that is precisely what captivated me. Throughout this journey with Élise, my map has become more and more precise. Today, after all these travels, it still has no boundaries; it remains open to all possibilities, to all desires—it never closes in on itself.
My journey through this country has always been joyful and playful, filled with laughter and smiles. In Élise’s world of yoga, a mistake is never a fault but, on the contrary, a bubble—something very light that takes you by the hand and leads you to unknown lands. From that horizon, everything becomes possible. From there, it’s possible to dare!
With Élise, the first draft fears no second thoughts! And to paraphrase René Char regarding Miró, “She makes accuracy her rule and spontaneity her guide.” ” “The accident” is always in the service of the composition—indeed, the very essence of the work—and that is what brings it to life.
During my many travels, I have constantly felt the whirlwind of a dance between sensation, concentration, and openness. These are highly complementary concepts, like a romantic relationship in the noblest sense of the term. None develops at the expense of the other.
Ultimately, Élise’s “land of yoga” is not a country but an entire planet. That is why there are no borders on this map. Here, it is a constant revolution! By this I mean that here, things are in constant flux; nothing is fixed forever; every day is a reevaluation of the day before, because every day is made up of different sensations. Experiencing matter, feeling its vibrations—that’s what makes you feel alive. That’s what gives meaning to my life, and I’ve probably visited this country for no other reason than that.
Resonance
Vincent’s account is deeply beautiful, but more than that, it struck a very special chord within me. For the cartographic metaphor is, after all, one that has always fascinated me and has been with me for a very long time. I remember being moved—by the emotion that arises when a truth touches us for the first time—while reading Gilles Deleuze and his concept of deterritorialization. I even devoted a doctoral dissertation to it. In it, I used this concept and combined it with that of the “frontier” in the American sense of the term—that is, a shifting line that is constantly encroaching on new spaces. My explorations in the visual arts also lead me down this path; I draw maps—mental or psychological ones—superimposed on a physical space. I also love mapping out future adventures, seeing imagined regions on paper before setting out to traverse them in 3D. My business is called Explore Training, and I’m always going on and on to everyone about my stories of space. In short, maps, territories, and exploring them—that’s my thing.
Yoga as a Process of Mapping
The word doesn’t exist, but I’m leaving it here because it aptly captures the spirit of exploration that defines the yoga training process. We arrive in a new territory, the landmarks of which I’m somewhat familiar with. While these can be defined in advance—the technical, anatomical, and factual elements of yoga—the paths we take will depend on the nature of the landscape and its inhabitants. We are the inhabitants. Some like to take the back roads; others prefer highways and rest areas; still others stubbornly stick to a dead end, only to realize that all they need to do is go around the fence to move forward. My job is to keep the trail markers clear and to remind everyone that the purpose lies in the journey itself, with the destination receding further and further as we move forward, until it no longer really matters. I check the equipment and the condition of the signs—but above all, I see the intrinsic ability each person has to forge their own path. I encourage resourcefulness, the ability to make use of what’s in the immediate surroundings, and the skill to read the landscape and make it one’s own.
And I, too, go on a journey every time. Of course, I know the stages and the route, but I love being surprised by new terrain, deciding to venture off-trail for a moment, and, in this fluid process of discovery, offering a deeply vibrant and inspiring yoga practice.
In 2024, Vincent will join the Explore Training team; you’ll find him in the advanced training program, where he’ll teach breathing techniques. We’re also planning a joint art and yoga module.