About Luke Baugh

I was born in Lewiston, Idaho and raised in the small town of Orofino, which is on the Clearwater River. I grew up on Orofino Creek Road, and my family were Jehovah’s Witnesses.

My mom raised 4 kids and my dad traveled a lot. I was a sharp little boy and asked many questions. My memories of being young were very much less about school and more about traveling with my parents all over the country, and going to the JW church for “meetings”. I remember my brother doodling, and my sister taking notes. I would listen and think and wonder… the meaning of things.

As a little boy I believed there was something missing from the Christian explanation given as to why humans suffer. This invariably led to conversations about free will and agency. I had a feeling very early on that there was something about suffering that was beyond our control. I also always believed that there was something eternal, and beyond form. I recall vividly laying in my bunk bed meditating on the concept of eternity. I became addicted to the euphoria I would get when meditating on what existed beyond space and time. If I were ever bored as a child, I would close my eyes and imagine this… I believe this was my first experience with meditation. It influenced my worldview and my development as a person.

The small town of Orofino, Idaho has the distinction of having both a mental hospital and a prison. Many of the people my mom would talk to going door to door, teaching people about the JW religion, were from troubled backgrounds. My mother would go inside and take me with her. She never, that I recall, spared me from these conversations. These talks made an impact on me because I saw first hand the suffering of human beings, coupled with the deep terror of not knowing why their life was the way it was… Some explanation given was that sin came from Adam, due to his misuse of free will, and being descendants of Adam we inherit sin. Further, Jesus died to pay a ransom for sin and thus after his death 2,000 years ago, there is no sin for those who accept Jesus. I managed to turn this into a metaphor and considered that there was something that Jesus may have known that others did not know, and perhaps there was a path that he followed that would lead us beyond sin, and thus beyond suffering. I would ask if anyone else had achieved what Jesus did, and it was explained that no, there was only one because he was god's son… this really bothered me because I figured that if only god's son was able to defeat suffering, then me, being just a little boy, had no chance. I started to consider something outside of this explanation maybe also being true. I believe that my first experience of yoga was due to these experiences within the JW religion, because I came up with the concept on my own that there may be a way for normal people to follow a path that leads them beyond suffering. This path, I have come to follow, is yoga. 

By the time I was in high school I was very weird. I skipped school and walked around alone, for hours, or would go to the library, or sit by the river. I sat by the river a lot and just stared at it. I spent a lot of time at a coffee and donut shop, and not in class. I barely graduated. 

I began guiding outdoor trips around 2000, when I was 21 years old. The same feeling of wonder I had laying in bed as a child, or walking around town during high school, but instead I became fascinated with the sound of the river, and for some reason I believed that there were spirits under the rocks at the bottom of the river. On a lower Salmon River trip I was guiding, I dove down to the bottom of the river and held a rock. I turned upside down to look up and see the sun. I recall being very calm and not out of breath at all. The rhythm of the river was a great teacher of mine, and I coupled my learnings from the river with the study of eastern philosophy. 

I read many books on Eastern Philosophy in my 20s. I remember going to Barnes and Noble and literally had read all of the books there so I had to go to different towns to find books that I hadn’t read. I discovered Chogyam Trungpa and felt connected to his teachings. I grappled with these ideas, until I reached a point where I didn’t understand what would happen next. I had no teacher, and no experiential practice, only thoughts, and these thoughts eventually started to take their toll on my mental health. 

In 2001 I was driving through the Nevada desert staring into the stars and I prayed and asked for help along the spiritual path. I had read so many books that I was confused. My knowledge was not grounded in fact or experience. I asked the being behind the stars to provide me with a sense of direction, a spiritual teacher.

About 5 days after the drive through the desert, I was working in Reno, Nevada, and a man walked up to me. His name was Robert Parker. He told me that he had a feeling that I needed some spiritual guidance, and was there to help me. I was very frightened by this man with glowing eyes, but after spending a few hours with him at a Chinese buffet in Reno, I started to see that this person was actually going to help me with my problem. I asked Robert so many questions, just like I would have with my mom as a child. I did not care what they sounded like, I asked what was on my mind. I do not recall Robert ever needing clarification for any of my questions that night. We parted ways that evening, and since that day Robert has remained consistently one of my teachers, and we now stay in contact through phone calls and text messages. His contributions to my understanding have been immeasurable. Robert has assisted me through many dark moments on my path of yoga when I would get down on myself, or fail to see the purpose of my efforts. He has influenced my view on the universe, and has been a great friend on the path. I appreciate him immensely.

In 2002 I experienced a transformational period that was actually very disturbing because it led me to doubt my reality and ultimately led me to a life altering decision. The ideas that I had come to identify with were not of my culture, and they were not grounded in my own experience, but yet they felt more real and true than what was mainstream and normal around me. I felt no connection to those around me, and eventually my viewpoint on the world became increasingly dark. I experienced a feeling of being an alien wherever I went, and I noticed that I was not interested in the same things anyone else was interested in, at all. I felt a sick mundaneness with society and wanted to find something original and real. I began to leave population centers and retreat into the mountains to fast and to meditate. I called Robert, and he simply advised to continue meditation. He seemed to believe I would figure it out on my own and that things were fine. I did not feel fine.

I continued to investigate my fear. It worsened. I kept going deeper and there was more and more fear. I would go into the wilderness alone and find it there. I would go into the city and find it there. Everywhere I looked was fear. I told no one, and just lived amongst people.

The world I had come to believe as stable lost its glue, and disintegrated. Words lost their meaning, and I struggled to make sense of my thoughts. My sense of identity shifted and I came to be faced with one of two futures; I needed to either move forward and accept the things that I had believed in since I was a child, but were held within me and I had no words or explanations for, nor anyone around me to validate them, or, I could go back and believe what those around me believed, and participate in the facade I was starting to decode. At once my heart and mind joined forces and I decided that I would move ahead with my own ideas, regardless of how much logical sense they made. 

This decision would lead me to yoga. 

I discovered yoga, as far as a formal practice of yoga, in 2003, taking yoga classes at various studios around the country. I traveled a lot at this time, and slept outside all year around, living out of my car. I often fasted, meditated, and practiced asana. I spent an incredible amount of time in nature, alone. 

In 2005 I was living in Hawaii, practicing yoga there, and something peculiar happened. I was tasked at the farm I lived at on the Big Island, to paint the wall of a coffee shack. I went into a bit of a trance and painted a strange design of a hand the shape of a spiral. This was the sign of the Jains. I did not know that at the time. 

In late 2005 I went to a meditation retreat in Onalaska and did not enjoy myself. I left and went to Seattle to stay with a friend and take yoga classes in the city (something I did at various places). I was interested in Ashtanga Yoga from my time in Hawaii, and at this time had no formal training. I did not know what “Mysore” class was, and so when I called the Ashtanga Yoga School of Seattle (they never answered their phone) I did not understand the daily class with this name. 

I attended my first Ashtanga Yoga class under David Garrigues in Seattle in October of 2005, and David has been my yoga teacher since then. 

Once I had a taste of Ashtanga I traveled to study with several authorized and certified teachers, in Los Angeles, Encinitas, and all over the Western US. I ultimately decided to move to Los Angeles to study at Ashtanga Yoga LA with Noah Williams, Kimberly Flynn, and James Butkevich. I loved James, and I would show up early in the dark before anyone else and practice alone with him. It was very good for me. It was around this time, in May of 2006, that I gained a solid practice of the primary series of Ashtanga Yoga. I learned it primarily from David Garrigues, but also got hints from many other teachers in that lineage. 

In September of 2006, after a summer of river guiding, I moved to Seattle to take up daily study with David Garrigues. At this time, David’s wife Catherine, was struggling with cancer. I arrived each morning to practice, and eventually learned most of the 2nd series, before I started to give way to a serious injury that was left untreated for some time. 

By February of 2007 I could not walk without a significant limp. I was going to college at the time and used a skateboard to get to class; I did not know how to skateboard, I only did this because my limp was so bad. I could not walk very well at all, and my left leg would go numb for many days. I also dislocated my hips and knees routinely during the primary series classes on Saturdays. I was doing backbends and able to grasp my ankles (or at least one of them), and I had no trouble jumping back. I feel at this time that I had a level of mastery with the primary that I have not seen a lot of people have, quite honestly. David watched me every day. 

I took the summer of 2007 off and away from my practice and my pain and limp went away, but once I started back practicing in the Mysore room in Seattle, the pain came back with a vengeance. I attended David’s teacher training that year, in August of 2007, and learned a great deal. That was David’s first ever yoga teacher training. I have been a registered yoga teacher with Yoga Alliance since then. 

In early 2008 I moved to Lewiston, Idaho to be closer to my daughter, who I had not seen much the previous few years. I opened a yoga studio and called it “Exist Yoga”, and soon, David Garrigues was coming there to visit, and do yoga teacher training at my studio. I was teaching traditional Ashtanga in the mornings, and using the adaptations and use of props I had learned from David to teach people with disabilities. I taught a lot of classes also at the local college, a local corporate call center fitness room, the local aquatic center, and anywhere else I could go. I was kind of on fire at this point, and I had found a way through my personal practice to heal my injury. I taught, and learned from, people with Multiple Sclerosis, as I was hired by the non profit organizations NMSS (National Multiple Sclerosis Society) and the MSAA (Multiple Sclerosis Association of America). 

I did nothing but teach yoga during this time, and spent my extra hours at the yoga shala studying different methods, and practicing for my students with MS. I learned more from teaching people with Multiple Sclerosis, than I did from any other demographic in my career. These people became my inspiration, and I didn’t know it then, but eventually, the classes taught to them would be the inspiration of my personal practice. 

For about 5 months during 2008 I was not in pain in my practice, for the most part, but in early 2009, during a yoga teacher training, I was demonstrating Vrischikasana, and other challenging postures, to a group, and my injury flared up again. Since that day I have lived in chronic pain that I mitigate through a more strategic use of asana. This injury has influenced my path of yoga, and has given me a perspective that has enhanced my ability to understand the limitations of asana, and the importance of the other limbs of yoga.

In 2009 I moved to Spokane to take a job at what was then called “Spokane Yoga Shala” and was hired to take over the traditional Mysore Ashtanga program, with David’s blessing. I did not do very well there. The students were not trained by an experienced teacher, and they did not respond well to the directness, and the seeming lack of compassion that went along with learning only from traditional certified Ashtanga teachers. My personality and intensity was off putting for these students, and eventually I was fired. I was also teaching at Gonzaga University, which was quite lovely. 

I moved to Seattle in 2010 with the idea that I would start up another Ashtanga Yoga School, as by then the one that I had trained at was gone, and there was no certified teacher in Seattle. I dreamed that I would create a yoga school there and bring David back to Seattle. I failed at this, and ultimately decided to finish up my bachelors degree in Bellingham at Western Washington University, and started teaching at the university for a guy named Ron. My classes were all in Sanskrit and the students did not respond well to me, and eventually I was not asked to return due to complaints from the students. I don't really know why, but this is what I assumed. 

I started teaching yoga in Bellingham at several locations in 2013, but quickly found out that there were a lot of yoga teachers in Bellingham, and the people there generally did not get up very early. I struggled to maintain a student base while teaching Mysore in the early mornings downtown. I also held yoga teacher training (David eventually gave me the yoga teacher training program that he designed) with 3 or 4 students, never getting much traction. 

In 2018 I was offered to take over the space at 1412 Cornwall Avenue, where I had taught classes. I accepted and ever since then, to date, I have held classes there. This space is right downtown above Bellingham Bar and Grill, and it heats up quickly, which I like. I have been directing Yoga Teacher Trainings now for almost 10 years, both online and in person. I specialize in philosophy, and adaptations for injuries. 

I have many injuries, and 2 surgeries, thus far, related to doing too much yoga too strenuously. The most serious is that I have had a hip resurfacing to my left hip. I also have osteoarthritis in my spine. My lower lumbar discs are degenerated and the canal for the nerve has closed. I experience chronic pain in my lower back, pelvis/SI joint, and down my left leg. Because of this my body has compensated so that my right side is overdeveloped and fatigued. My body does not appear to be one of someone that practiced a lot of yoga, but in fact, it is exactly that body. 

It is hard for people to learn yoga from someone who limps, but the few students who have stuck with me have learned a lot, I think. I have an understanding of yoga philosophy that I continue to explore every day. Studying and meditating on the words of my teacher, and others, as well as reading books from authors on Jainism, Shaivism, Yoga Philosophy (Samkhya, Yoga Sutras, et al), and Buddhism (I still love Chogyam Trungpa). I feel that my connection with yoga is playful, but I am very serious about its practice, as it has become my life’s primary path. I still stay in contact with my teacher and friend, David Garrigues, and typically see him at a workshop every year or two. Other than that, I am mostly self taught through my daily practice, and my exposure to my students. 

My meditation practice is from the San Francisco Zen Center, where I was a student. I have lost the ability to sit in padmasana so I must practice zazen on my knees. 

I cannot do the primary series any longer, and I cannot touch my toes. I have adapted my practice in a way that brings me joy and for my body, sustainability. I can teach yoga to people who have injuries, and I know what it is like to be forced to adapt. When I was in Seattle I weighed 160 lbs. Today I weigh between 190 and 200 lbs. I love yoga. My practice has changed through the years and I have become wiser, but I no longer look like I did when I was younger, when I was the prodigy of David Garrigues. Now I am just a man who has walked the path of yoga and learned many hard lessons. 

I do not see yoga as merely a practice you do on the mat. Your life is your path of yoga. You have only one path, and that is your life. You can live your life in concert with yoga, or you can live life without yoga; the choice is yours. I teach yoga as a lifelong practice because that is what it has been for me.