Whenever I watch the latest viral video of a scantily clad babe doing acrobatic yoga in her living room, something in me laments. I realize that these videos serve as inspiration to others and I appreciate the beauty, skill and sense of personal empowerment they represent. But I can't escape the feeling that these displays are better left to the performing arts than to a yoga mat.

With all the deserved criticism being leveled upon the yoga industry of late, it's important to distinguish between the influence of corporate business and what is happening at the grassroots. There is no better example of the disparity between these two mores than the efforts of Yoga for NY, an organization that formed to see the interests of yoga are represented in local government.

Apparently, yoga originates from Tantric sex cults. So says the senior science writer at the NY Times in a sequel to his debut about how yoga kills. Scholars have long debated the origins of yoga, which existed as a purely oral tradition for thousands of years. But evidence of an ancient document stating that cobra pose is for sexual arousal doesn't mean that yoga originated from Tantric sex cults.

The other day I was at Staples printing up some new student cards. A woman standing next to me noticed that I was doing something for a yoga center. She told me that she loved yoga and was curious what kind of yoga they practice. After learning I was the director and we have a therapeutic orientation, she asked me if I could recommend some poses to help a situation with her lower back.

Despite the plausibility of good intentions, the yoga industry's emphasis on transformation around the new year feels a bit too opportunistic. Personal transformation may come as a natural progression in the context of yoga practice but the process is greatly hindered when the concept is used as a dangling carrot to sell memberships.

Is it just me or did 2011 feel like a complete wash? Nothing particularly horrible or great stands out. The small triumph of not letting daily mundane tribulations get the best of me may not rank high on a scorecard but I am nonetheless grateful for having managed to get through relatively unscathed.

Flipping through the catalog for a big name yoga and retreat center, I was shocked to notice that they advertised their yoga teacher training programs as "Yoga Alliance Approved." Misrepresentations like this are the dirty little secret of the yoga industry. No one really wants to admit there is no accreditation for Yoga.

Trolling yoga blogs and the comment threads that ensue reveals a prevailing sentiment of tough love. Sure, there are a few hold-outs from the sixties still hanging around but the new breed of yogi is way too savvy to be fooled by any fluff and seems more interested in what you can do than how what you do makes you think or behave.

Ever heard the one about the Dalai Lama and the hotdog vendor? Make me one with everything. This has always been my favorite joke. Recently, I was made aware of how, like a lot of effective humor, the punchline is based on a not so funny premise. As a Shakespearean scholar once pointed out: "As long as there is pain and suffering in the world, there will always be something to laugh at."

Exploitation of yoga in advertising is nothing new. When a product wants to associate with a low-stress or healthy lifestyle, invariably, the commercial features people doing yoga poses. Increasing popularity of yoga makes the marketing demographic undeniable. A recent Advil campaign has taken this phenomenon to another level.

The first yama of Patanjali's Yoga Sutra's is ahimsa, often translated as "non-harming." Aligning myself with Yoga turned something that I had always seen as a weakness into a strength. Yet, somewhere along the way, an unconscious loophole developed. While I was incapable of intentionally doing others wrong, I seemed to have no problem doing considerable inadvertent harm to myself.