Everyday Yogini

No one would mistake me for someone who has been practicing yoga for over fourteen years. My heels don’t always hit the floor in down dog. Seated forward bends are also a challenge for me. My least favorite pose of all time is Janu Shirshasana, a seated forward bend that also had a twist involved. On top of this marginal flexibility of mine, I have also reached a place in my life where I have a delicate wrist. This means that going upside down can only be done with great mindfulness and care. This is such a bummer, because it my favorite part of yoga. I was good at it!

Last night I found myself “shoulding” myself during my practice. I was thinking that I “should” be better at this pose or that pose by now! Really, I was watching myself practice and offering up my worst criticism on my abilities (something, by the way, I would never do to someone else!) Fortunately, probobly because I’ve been practicing yoga for so long, I was able to laugh at the complete insanity of using the word should in relationship to my practice. How can we be anywhere but exactly where we are??

So these days, my practice is pretty gentle. I’m no hardcore, sun-saluting yogini anymore. But, this doesn’t detract from my dedication to the practice or my belief in the transformative powers of yoga. To tell the truth, I suspect that the limitations in my personal practice make me a more compassionate teacher and person all around. Lots of people come to the practice of yoga injured and broken in some form or fashion and it’s difficult to relate to that if you have always enjoyed perfect health. And I know that from experience.

My deepest aspiration is that when I teach yoga, my students take away a sense of ease and knowledge that they, too, can heal and nuture themselves through the practice of yoga. When I look at my practice honestly, I find the gifts that I have to offer.

“(Satya) means speaking in ways that are trustworthy, harmonious, comforting, and worth taking to heart. When you make a practice of these positive forms of right speech, your words become a gift to others. In response, other people will start listening more to what you say, and will be more likely to respond in kind. This gives you a sense of the power of your actions: the way you act in the present moment does shape the world of your experience. You don’t need to be a victim of past events.” -Thanissaro Bhikkhu

As a younger person, I was very proud of my ability to tell the truth and be very honest. Blunt and rude might have been a better way to phrase it, really. There were certainly times that I used my honest nature in a loving, kind way, to promote the welfare of all beings. However, there were often times that I used the truth as an excuse to hurt someone.

So, with great compassion for ourselves, let’s explore Satya this week. Are there ever times when you lie, even when you don’t have to? Do you omit information to avoid conflict? Do you use your words of honesty to hurt others? Are you lying to yourself about anything in your life?

Being truthful with ourselves about where we need work lends itself to offering ourselves kindness and non-violence. The nature of looking intently at our behavior means we are going to see the ways in which we fall short of our ideal or who we think we are. Looking at ourselves with kindness and love as we shine the light into the darker corners of our soul keeps us balanced and gives us important perspective. It helps to smile gently and take a deep breath when it all feels a little overwhelming and too serious.

After all, we are on a path, not a destination.

Sometimes it is difficult to look at something like non-violence. It might feel as if someone is asking us to give up our favorite habit. In reality, non-violence is really just movement towards kindness, compassion, and peace. It’s not giving anything up, but adding qualities to our life that make us, and the people around us, happy. And really, isn’t that what we all seek?

As I work toward letting go of worry, it’s hard. It’s work. But it also feels like a gracious offering. A nod of affirmation that I, too, deserve expansive, tranquil energy in my life. And think of the blessings this bestows on those who share my life?

Is there a way to look at your own practice of ahimsa as a movement toward something greater? Can you shift your perspective? I think a beautiful analogy is imagining that we are looking in a cave, complaining about the dark, the damp and the cold. But, all we have to do to escape that confining discomfort is turn around and lift our face to the sun. It is our choice. Always.

When faced with my deep well of worry
I vow with all beings
To smile with Buddha’s compassion
Taking time to watch clouds cross the sky

So as I am working with my worry, the message that is arriving from all directions is what I mentioned yesterday~ embracing it, discovering compassion for the parts of myself I wish to push away (in this case, worry). I came across this passage by Thich Nhat Hanh yesterday and was just STRUCK by the realization that I have the ability to transform this “demon” into a gift for myself and those around me. To develop greater understanding and depth as a result of the thing that I consider a painful nuisance…

“If you have experienced hunger, you know that having food is a miracle. If you have suffered from the cold, you know the preciousness of warmth. When you have suffered you know how to appreciate the elements of paradise that are present. If you dwell only in your suffering, you will miss paradise. Don’t ignore your suffering, but don’t forget to enjoy the wonders of life, for your sake and for the benefit of many beings.

I grew up in a time of war. There was destruction all around — children, adults, values, a whole country. As a young person, I suffered a lot. Once the door of awareness has been opened, you cannot close it. The wounds of war in me are still not healed. There are nights I lie awake and embrace my people, my country, and the whole planet with my mindful breathing.

Without suffering, you cannot grow. Without suffering, you cannot get the peace and joy you deserve. Please don’t run away from your suffering. Embrace it and cherish it. Go to the Buddha, sit with him, and show him your pain. He will look at you with loving — kindness, compassion, and mindfulness, and show you ways to embrace your suffering and look deeply into it. With understanding and compassion, you will be able to heal the wounds in your heart, and the wounds in the world. The Buddha called suffering a Holy Truth, because your suffering has the capacity of showing us the path to liberation. Embrace your suffering, and let it reveal to you the way to peace.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh in The Heart of the Buddha’s Teachings

Non-violence is such a great place to start working with the Yamas and Niyamas! Like all of the yogic precepts, when you begin to work with it, it becomes clear how deep it goes. There is the obvious part of non-violence: being gentle with others physically, allowing bugs to remain alive, becoming a vegetarian, or eating meat and meat products that are raised in a humane manner, choosing to be concious of our footprint on the planet…

But what about the subtle aspects of non-violence? What about when we are in an arguement with a loved one and we say the mean thing that comes to mind? What about when we are practicing hatha yoga on a day our body is tired, but we want to look good compared to our neighbor in class, so we keep pushing our body? What about eating a food that doesn’t agree with us over and over? Don’t these things all represent acts of violence, either against another or, most typically, against ourselves?

The way I happen to be most violent with myself recently is my habit of worry. It makes me anxious, causes me physical discomfort, and then, to add insult to injury, it impacts the people around me, whom I love most. The challenge for me is to not push it away (also violent) but to gently listen to what this part of me has to say, love it, and let it go. To not get reactive is the most beautiful, life-affirming action I can take with this particular form of violence. And yet, in the moment, it feels next to impossible! Ah, the workings of my monkey-mind!

In the coming week, I will share with you how I am working with bringing the Yogic directive for non-violence to my worry. Would you join me? What subtle (or not so subtle) ways do you hurt yourself and/or others? Can you observe your patterns and shine the light on them without making yourself “bad” (also violent)? It is a powerful practice, friends. Share with me your insights into letting go of just one act of aggression in your own life.

Yoga isn’t just about physical poses. The ancient yogis used the physical (hatha) yoga to prepare their bodies for the quiet of meditation. So in addition to the physical practice there is, in fact, similar to all spiritual paths, a set of moral codes to help guide our lives. This set of practices, or codes, is broken into two categories: Yamas and Niyamas.

Yamas are the letting go, Niyamas are the embrace. It is deceptively easy to “get” the precepts, but, as one meditates on and strives to implement the practices, they are endless in their transformative power. They are also a fabulous way to go deeper into seeing what makes you tick. Don’t get me wrong. It is very challenging to live even one precept for a week or two or even a day. But I promise if you can take these teachings in even a little, your life will change. Or, at least, your MIND will change.

The Yamas consist of Ahimsa (non-violence), Satya (truthfulness), Asteya (non-stealing), Brahmacharya (moderation) and Aparigraha (greedlessness). The Niyamas are Saucha (purity), Samtosha (contentment), Tapas (austerity), Svadhyaya (self-study) and Ishvara Pranidhana (surrender to God). An impressive list, yes? There is also much language to balk at, without even really knowing what it’s all about. Surrender to God? Purity? I don’t ever steal… I don’t have to worry about that one! Austerity? What the heck?? And really, how can these concepts POSSIBLY apply to my modern, city-dwelling, parenting, married, working, (insert your own), life?

This was my reaction the first time I read about the precepts. Perhaps you are rubbing your hands together in glee, impatient to learn more. I sure wasn’t!

Slowly but slowly, as the weeks go on, I will offer up discourse on each Yama and Niyama, one at a time. I encourage you (and I will too) to work with each precept, one at a time.

Let me say, I love the practice of writing Gathas. They are such a wonderful, succinct spiritual practice, designed to be memorable enough to be reminders in our daily lives. A form of meditative poetry practiced in Buddhism, I first discovered this lovely practice in a book called, “The Dragon Who Never Sleeps” by Robert Aitkin. This little book of modern verses inspired me to begin writing my own Gathas, and write them I have! I have reams of these short poems scattered throughout my journals over the years.

In the Mahayana tradition Gathas follows a certain form. The first line establishes the inspirational event, the second line is the vow, the last two lines reflect our intention and wisdom in regard to the inspirational event. For instance, when I first stopped eating sugar, my journals were filled with Gathas about my favorite treats!

When I am tempted by sugar
I vow with all beings
To savor the sweetness of living
The great gift of rich clarity

When I want to eat all the cookies
I vow with all beings
To peer into the hole I am filling
Walk away and go find a big hug

The possibilities are endless and it is such a playful, gentle way to encourage what we most want for ourselves in our spiritual practice. Used in our daily lives, they can refocus our attention on being mindful of our actions. Write your own Gathas and share them with me~ I would love to read them!

I read somewhere, maybe five or six years ago, that not practicing yoga is just as much a part of the practice as practicing. I thought the person was making excuses for not being consistent. That was certainly not MY deal.

In 1994, I took my first Yoga class at Oregon State University. For the first time in I really-couldn’t-remember-when, I felt as if I were IN my body. I mean IN my body… not in my head, but solidly, peacefully, in my body~ radiating the pure goodness that’s in all of us. Of course, I was hooked!

I practiced diligently for many years which led me to meditation and the study of what was behind Yoga. I became certified to teach yoga in 2003 through Kripalu. I taught and practiced consistently, deepening and softening through the years. Even into my pregnancy, my Yoga and meditation practice was my touchstone.

Then my daughter was born. Like a tsunami, Clara washed into my world and left nothing but she and I clinging to the bare shoreline. As a new, first-time Mother, I was immersed in her and the absolute truth of bearing a child and loving someone with a fierceness that is frightening. My formal practice became fractured and infrequent. It was more often the case that I was working with my ability to stay present and bear witness to her, and our life together as a family.

But, oh, the goodness of formal practice. The sweetness of stepping onto the mat now that she is a bit older and I am not quite so exhausted. The absolute gratitude and gentleness I feel toward myself, breathing my body, feeling every minute adjustment and every little bit my body allows and opens into a pose. With full trust. Like a baby asleep on her Mother’s shoulder.

The being away from the mat has, in many ways, matured my practice in a way that I can barely comprehend. But here I am, back to the diligence of my practice. So I bow my head to the wisdom of whomever it was that fortold my future years ago and gave me permission to step off the mat for a time.

As I sit quietly with my daughter
I vow with all beings
To open my heart to this moment
Knowing soon she will need less of me.