Redneck Yoga Teacher

“Be who you are. Be as you as you can be.” – Anita Moorjani

But, no. Don’t be like that.

We could end there. That would be enough.

Rednecks have a reputation for being assholes because they are assholes. I could fall in the category of ‘reformed redneck,’ but even then, rednecks don’t like reform.

Not all rednecks are racist, but it could be argued that all rednecks are mouthy. Okay. All the rednecks who aren’t mouthy, are sweet, dumb and would still fuck your husband. Or, if Sagittarius were involved, some combination of the two.

What I like about rednecks? I can be my mouthy, asshole self around rednecks and nobody blinks an eye. What happens when I start talking about angels, astrology and quantum fucking? I’m suddenly off my rocker and rednecks don’t know what happened to me. Smoke another one, Jill, they say. No. Seriously, smoke another one.

Okay. To be fair, literary rednecks can’t handle conversations about the quantum field (their scientific educations aren’t up to date); however, fundamentalist rednecks can talk about blowjobs, sex and pussies any old time. Reformed rednecks, too.

These aren’t words I typically utilize when teaching yoga classes.

Serious people, it dawned on me, are always working and that’s why they’re so impossibly serious. Seriously, holier than thou yogis and spiritualists, we’ll never reach rednecks if we strip them of their dirty words. Perhaps reaching this crowd is not your dharma. Right? So lay off mine.

Let’s save the karmic scrutiny for another day. For now, we have rednecks to reform. Somebody, bring me a bag of chocolate dicks. Eating chocolate dicks is okay (we tell them), while killing Indians for oil is wrong.

Growing up in Saskatchewan, I remember learning about slavery in the deep south, while closer to home—yes, the Catholic school system used the term Indian—we learned about long houses, tipis, totem poles, potlatch ceremonies, weapons, tools, hunting, migration and bannock bread. That’s it. I didn’t learn about cultural genocide until I moved to Victoria twenty-one years after I was born. Even then, I knew the Missing Sisters was a thing, but I didn’t know that 6,000 Indigenous children died at the hands of Catholic nuns and priests, which doesn’t include the many who were beaten, raped and remain alive and illiterate today. I don’t know specific numbers or details without further research, that’s how uneducated I am.

But then if we’re having our Atlantean brothers’ backs, I want to talk about literacy. What is that? Oh yeah, we stripped them of their languages, their art, their spiritual practices and their resources, and now we’re appropriating a culture that white people nearly obliterated. And we think it’s okay because rednecks are masters at makin’ a livin’.

Who built the pyramids? Probably you, rednecks. Who was likely responsible for four of the five known previous mass extinctions? Probably you, rednecks. Who holds the tipping balance of power for good on this planet? I would imagine all of the people doing whatever they need to do to get by—at the expense, not only of the environment, but also of their souls. The balance of power is in your hands, rednecks. You are the workhorses of the planet. We need your manpower to create a sustainable future. Otherwise, step aside.

Rednecks are basically Leos, and don’t like talking about consequences unless the gun isn’t turned on them. My beef with rednecks is the whining and bitching they do about their failing health and relationships. I have this theory that health doesn’t fail in healthy relationships, unless, of course, you have an unhealthy relationship with yourself. The universe doesn’t usually kick your ass for doing work you love, unless you have a permanent head injury. But then what does a workhorse redneck know about that?

Vacation. Ah yes, vacation.

Disability, to a redneck, is basically a vacation.

Here’s a prayer from A Course in Miracles that can help to retrain the biology of the mind: Dear redneck, I forgive you, and I release you to the holy spirit.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m called to run online redneck reform camps, but even then (I keep telling High Jill), I just want to teach yoga. Maybe this is what the cards mean when they keep telling me that I’m going to work with children. I intend to write and publish books, too, but I’ve made peace with the fact that my writing doesn’t appeal to adults with the intellects of seven-year-olds, while only the reformed and unconventional of rednecks have the capacity to understand and appreciate my writing. I want to be a big deal only so that I can show the world that you’re not confined to selling out to white supremacy to succeed, otherwise I just want to play with fun people and do what I love.

The secret, rednecks, is meeting limited circumstances with unlimited thinking. What can I say? I’m studying A Course in Miracles, and I, too, benefit from taking my own advice. Spiritual psychotherapy—or, psychological mind training—goes hand in hand with yoga, the mental science of self-realization.

The secret we use to achieve results in yoga? Intention.

Neuroscientist and chiropractor Dr. Joe Dispenza said, “Intention is a vision, a potential that already exists in the quantum field—that you get to select.”

And yes, rednecks, you must move your masses on the matter, moo.

Angels of Ganja

“From half an hour to three hours after taking a full dose of cannabis, the patient feels a sense of well-being, or as if he had heard ‘good tidings of great joy.’ There is a tendency to laughter, and the subject in many cases says comical and witty things.” – Maritime Medical News, 1897

Hail ye! Humans exclaimed in ancient times. We beheld kings, queens and emperors in the distant past with the same mindless reverence human culture holds royalty, celebrity and affluence today. At best, you are a machine—according to an invisible and elusive “system”—while at worst, you are worthless.

Who runs the system? The same people who don’t look up at the sky are the same people who don’t ask this question.

So, those of us detectives in the crowd do some digging, and, behold! We have this thing called the internet to share our findings. Some of us are optimistic, others of us are not. Enlightenment, remember, is temporary. We are sometimes called “Indigo” and are distinguished by our ability to handle the truth, and nothing but the whole grist of the truth. If the truth hurts, call upon Archangels Raphael and Uriel (the angels of healing and brilliance, respectively) to soften the blow. Raphael isn’t associated with an astrological sign, but Uriel is said to govern the domain of Aquarius. Most astrologers agree that Mercury is exalted (that is, at his best) in Virgo; however, Aquarius can talk my panties off in five seconds. Aquarius, I contend, exalts Mercury. Mercury in Aquarius is what happens when you like having a dick in your mouth. The Angels of Ganj fearlessly promote freedom of speech. That, Virgo, is perfection.

Archangel Uriel is also known as the psychologist angel. Uriel oversees the Angels of Ganj—also known as the Angels of Weed and the Angels of Marijuana—who, I’ve discovered, work closely with the Angels of Love.

“To ignore this valuable resource,” quantum life coach Sandra Anne Taylor said of the angelic realm, “would be like not turning on the lights, and then cursing the furniture when you walk into it.”

I’ve never had a problem with the ganja angels (that I know of)—there are, after all, angels for everything—but I felt compelled to consult the Archangel Michael oracle for his thoughts, and the cards I pulled pleasantly surprised me.

  1. Eternal Love – The Angels of Ganj help one to perceive love. I sensed that the Angels of Ganj work closely with the Angels of Love because love tends to the gardens of abundance. If you’ve ever made love on marijuana, you would know that the Angels of Ganj appreciate romance and passion. The Angels of Ganj want you to be in sync with your soulmate, because the Angels of Ganj love all that intimacy encompasses. The Angels of Ganj work for Archangels Uriel and Raphael. You can even call on the Angels of Ganj if you don’t smoke weed, but they will never judge you if you do. Smoke connects us to spirit. Marijuana can be a direct pipeline to Archangel Uriel—your free psychologist angel—if you can handle the truth. If not? Smoking marijuana will be an uncomfortable experience, and you might assume that your experience is universal. It’s not. Some people genuinely do not vibrate in sync with psychedelics. If this is you, don’t use them. Weed, when consumed regularly by a professional, offers a mild psychedelic afterglow—a similar glow, I would imagine, to what Moses saw emanating from the burning bush. Unless, of course, the bush was actually burning, or Moses was high on stronger psychedelic drugs.
  2. Admit the Truth to Yourself, and Act Accordingly – Marijuana is a truth serum, and the Angels of Ganj don’t pander to “offended” or “victim.” Have you ever noticed that marijuana tends to distract you from your grievances? You can always call on Archangel Michael to protect you if you don’t feel safe smoking ganja because it’s illegal where you live. Or, don’t smoke weed. The Tao says that the more rules you make, the more rule breakers you create. Archangel Uriel and the Angels of Ganj know this. Aquarius, not surprisingly, is the rule breaker or proverbial rebel of the zodiac. Rules are made to be broken, whereas codes (like conventions) can be followed or not. The worst that could happen is you lose a friend. But the Angels of Ganj have no egos and will always be your friend. The Angels of Ganj see you through rose-colored eyes of love (that is, unconditional love). The Angels of Ganj are benevolent angels of light, and benevolent angels of light don’t judge. Archangel Michael, the great protector angel, oversees all benevolent angels of love.
  3. Sense of Humor – Santa Maria isn’t a merciless goddess; she’s the goddess of ganj. I would imagine she works closely with the Angels of Ganj, but you can always call on Archangel Michael to protect you from lower energies if you’re unsure. I sense that Santa Maria would prefer practitioners smoke weed only when we’re in vibrational alignment with our inner beings. Being in harmony with who you really are means that you feel good. Santa Maria, from what I gather, can only work with us from the higher, feel-good realms. Like with the Angels of Ganj, we do not need to be consuming cannabis to connect with Santa Maria’s energy. She is like the goddess of the tropics and all things good. The Angels of Ganj can often help to dig you out of a slump, while Santa Maria and the Angels of Ganj work in conjunction to get you laughing. They sprinkle fun on an otherwise gloomy day. Appropriate, remember, is not synonymous with classy.

Appropriate, in many cases, is boring.

Yoga. The Angels of Marijuana love to dance with the Angels of Yoga. Like driving a car, experienced practitioners only please. I tend to experience a post-traumatic stress reaction to unnecessary (and/or prolonged) tension, whereas marijuana in small doses tends to ground me. A bowl a day melts anxiety away. Purple Kush is like the vitamin B12 of cannabis, and is to marijuana what yoga is to the mind. In the aromatherapy kingdom, lavender grounds the soul in the body. Apparently sandalwood (an aphrodisiac) grounds the soul in the body, too.

Recently I met a guy who on the one hand was impressed with my memory (I remember birthdays), while on the other hand told me to go smoke another one when I refused to respond to his ridicule. If I smoke myself into oblivion, it’s likely because I’m feeling depressed and suicidal, in which case, marijuana remains therapeutic. Suicidal people don’t talk because privileged people don’t listen. The world, Caroline Myss said, is having a spiritual crisis, not a psychological one. Death is an illusion. Marijuana might not teach you this, but it can be Novocain for the soul. People commit suicide because authorities can act like assholes with zero legal ramifications, while the people who don’t look up at the sky don’t question these authorities. Regulating our brothers and sisters (instead of ourselves…), we insist, is necessary.

I prefer to teach yoga and read books sober, otherwise I do my best to smoke after I drive. Authorities are uneducated about weed. Or conversely, cannabis prohibition is lucrative. You’re more likely to cause harm driving angry and out of the Vortex, but the insurance system isn’t teaching us about the Vortex. It might be helpful to know that the Angels of Ganj work tirelessly with activists to reform marijuana laws. If you are an activist, call on the Angels of Ganj.

The Angels of Ganj also work closely with Archangel Metatron to purify our intentions. Although the Angels of Ganj don’t wear the many faces of Mars in Pisces, they don’t judge us when we do. They understand the confusion we live amidst, and they want us to be in sync with our inner beings. The Angels of Ganj know that harmony coalesces with harmony, and that it is vibrationally impossible to rendezvous with dormant or unconscious thoughts.

Santa Maria resonates with Saturn in Scorpio (the detective), and understands that while fighting weakens us, cooperation strengthens us. Saturn in Scorpio bends reality. Archangel Metatron, patron angel of spiritual seekers and Indigos, is known to bend time. Time is reality, and anything nightmarish is an illusion. Santa Maria doesn’t play in the illusion.

As for the infamous plant? It’s time we nip that tattle-tainted reputation in the bud.