
Speaking from Octopus Garden studios in Toronto where she regularly teaches, Chung says when she first got into law, she wanted to change the world. “I was really optimistic about the kind of social change and how I could impact people’s lives.” She worked on the famous Jane Doe case her first year as a lawyer, and worked in the courts after that. Around that time, Chung began to question “how much social change is possible through the institution of law” and concurrently had begun a series of massage therapy and chiropractic sessions to relieve chronic arm and shoulder strain. “The funny thing is, when I started yoga, I didn’t need to go for massage anymore. It was a really multi-level shift in my life. I didn’t know yoga was spiritual –I just thought, ‘I’m going to get fit, I’m going to get stress relief.’” That’s the thing about yoga, she says; students come in for basic fitness and stress relief techniques, but they leave transformed. “You don’t need to know it’s a spiritual thing, you leave and you feel profoundly different. There’s some sort of a buzz going on, and you don’t need to label it.” “Yoga stands for so many things that don’t have to do with the transactional world that we inhabit in Toronto,” she explains, “The thing about it is, yoga practise -in my ideal reality -is a personal reality. It’s a personal practise. You start in a studio and then bring it home, and it becomes a personal thing.” Referring to the way the Passport allows users a huge variety of styles for a low cost, she notes that “you don’t need to pay $20 everyday, every class - you can go see your favourites here and there, then move into a daily practise, and see the way it’s evolving. That’s fantastic to experience.” | ![]() |
![]() | Chung also sees the Passport as being a means of making the ultra-competitive world of yoga studios more ethical, and closer to the practise’s true nature. “(Students) need to be where they belong,” she says gently but firmly, “so if they should be doing another kind of practise, it’s better to send them somewhere else. Being able to say, ‘I bet you’d really thrive with so-and-so, check him out’ –that really works out for the best. Those people in turn say, ‘Oh wow, I’ll recommend people back to you.’ It’s a more enlightened way to do business.” Now 37 years old, Chung recognizes the limits getting older can put on a body. She says her clients in their 40s and 50s admit they can’t keep the pace they once had. “(They’re) saying, ‘my body can’t do it anymore, I’ve got repetitive strain injury, I can’t keep up with the pace.’” She says it is such concerns that open the way for a shift in attitude and focus. Often age is the biggest factor that forces change, but it’s accepting that change that presents the greatest challenge. “ Look at nature of the practise,” she says, “Is it changing as our circumstances change? Or are we putting it onto the North American paradigm of … the ‘body beautiful?’ Are we doing it with a certain kind of intentionality? So, as we get older, are we clinging onto our old ways?” |