At Hawaii Resort, Yoga by Day, Party by Night

We are hypocrites at the Weekly Hate Read. We denounce the parochialism of the Real Estate section while greedily indulging our need to deride it. That is why today we venture forth into its companion section, which the New York Times insists on calling “Travel.” We prefer the appellation, “Summer Homes and Places I Go Only First-Class.” We prayed for a piece that let us move beyond Williamsburg and the Upper East side, finally receiving a 2,000-word article detailing the Lollapalooza or Burning Man analogue for yoga devotees, set in beautiful, postcolonial Hawaii. Hallelujah.

Written by the Times' hard-hitting "primary Olympics writer" Lynn Zinser, the article grapples with the phenomenon that is Wanderlust, a three to four day festival combining various forms of yoga (what?) with all-night raves. It has now spread, like a rare tropical disease, to fifteen cities. We were unable to obtain a demographic census of the event, but we have our suspicions:

“When we first came up with the idea of a festival, people said, ‘No one is going to want to do yoga all day and party all night,’ except we knew that’s exactly what they would do,” said Sean Hoess, who founded Wanderlust with Jeff Krasno and Mr. Krasno’s wife, Schuyler Grant. “We would go to these yoga retreats, and that’s exactly what they were already doing.”

Exhibit 1: when there is a “Schuyler” involved, you are no longer dealing with garden variety WASP, but true Philadelphia Main Line or Greenwich, Connecticut WASP. (The same goes for Piper.) As such, Wanderlust joins other businesses in the now-familiar vein of daycare facility for putatively able-bodied wealthy adults. It is best in these situations to run for the hills or, as one would do at Wanderlust, up the coconut tree:

The tightrope walker fit in swimmingly with the impromptu human pyramids or the people hand-walking on stilts, the laughing circles of people bruising their hips in hula hoop yoga or splashing into the water trying to do Warrior 1 on a stand-up paddleboard. There is yoga with dancing, D.J.s spinning tunes to the downward dogs. There are the fabric hammocks hanging from trees for something called aerial yoga. At regular intervals, you could find someone shinnying up a 30-foot coconut tree. Just because it was there.

The business acumen of Krasno (who has been "incredibly" inspired by Williamsburg), Hoess, and Grant consisted of putting together this goofiness just as goofiness became the latest fad in papering over structural violence, while “Just be cool, man” became the most eloquent defense of its apologists:

“Our timing was just really, really good,” Ms. Grant said. “Just as the music industry was starting to nose-dive, the wellness industry was starting to catch its wings. There is such a broad interest in wellness, and there are so many different ways and different depths of how to practice that. It is starting to approach its mass appeal moment.”

Never fear, however, we are in the hands of the New York Times—an eminent and critical news source. Even the yoga-practicing journalist, engaging in a bit of participant-observation, smells something fishy here:

“Wellness,” as it turns out, can be a rather fungible idea, stretched to include eating poke bowls and kale salads by day and enjoying inebriating substances while the music pulsates late into the night. The wellness part of that being that, well, people were enjoying themselves.

Whatever concerns Ms. Zinser has are dispelled once she finds out that the trio of yogapreneurs made sure that those unable to attend the $440 entrance fee for the four-day festival and the $269/night Hawaii hotel (before fees and taxes) could enjoy a taste of this "community" for one day close to home. For those without PTO (paid time off for those not in the know), Wanderlust offers a one-day cocktail of yoga, road race, and Molly-fueled gyration to Prodigy, just in time for work on Monday:

Last year Wanderlust 108 made its debut: a one-day “mindfulness triathlon” combining a 5k run, a yoga class and a guided meditation. After two successful editions of that last year, it will reach 15 cities in 2015. That includes one in Brooklyn — Wanderlust’s headquarters — on Sept. 13 and one in Washington on Sept. 20.

“Those are just a taste of Wanderlust,” Ms. Grant said. “Some people can’t afford to do a three- or four-day festival. These are more of a community event. It’s a happening.”

If that doesn't sound like a recipe for a fatal combination of schizophrenia (run, yoga, DJ?) and class resentment writ large, we frankly don't know what is. Ms. Zinser, however, leaves reassured that there is a place for first-generation, good ol' yuppie Orientalist wisdom in this new-fangled space:

Ms. Phelan told the class that Yin is her favorite yoga because it involves the willingness to look within.

“All the answers are there,” she said. “The past is just a memory, and the future just a thought. There is only now.”

In that minute, everything seemed to make sense: the circuslike atmosphere, the party-till-dawn vibe, the stretch-and-be-seen scene, the idea that people traveled thousands of miles, or just a few dozen, to discover the one thing that is true everywhere. It is always now.

Don DeLillo, Thomas Pynchon: eat your heart out. The future is worse and weirder than you ever imagined.

Medicare will be defunded while you practice aerial yoga