Letting Go

What a challenging class yesterday! My mind was all over the place. My breath flowed inconsistently and I was overly troubled by the student next to me who sat down for 95% of the class picking at her yoga pants. I've noticed this behavior from her before, but it didn't bother me until yesterday. This time, I just couldn't get over it. I tried to let it go because it did not serve any good purpose other than to obsess. My curiousity kept stealing me away from my own practice. I wanted to ask her if she was okay. Was she sick? Did she not care enough? At one point I said to myself that I was insulted. Then I followed that up with - Why should I care? Next, I blamed myself for interrupting my own practice with idle judgements about a person I did not know. It was truly frustrating. I thought, up until yesterday's class, that my concentration and focus was really coming along. I also thought of myself as a non-judgmental participant, but clearly this is not true. In fact, I'm embarrassed to admit it.

During meditation, I calmed down and brought my awareness back to myself. I don't have a solution figured out should this happen again. The only option I settled on upon rising from savasana, was that I will not place my mat next to her. Just one person over would be helpful. This is avoidance, rather than acceptance. Maybe tomorrow I will feel differently and decide I need to be next to her. Regardless, it is obvious that I allowed (and quite easily) another person to distract me. It wasn't her problem, but mine.

Open to Success or Failure

This week’s journal prompt is again from the Bhagavad Gita, from the translation by Stephen Mitchell (2000):

You have a right to your actions,
but never to your actions’ fruits.
Act for the action’s sake.
And do not be attached to inaction.

Self-possessed, resolute, act
without any thought of results,
open to success or failure. (Chapter 2, stanzas 47-48)”
(20-21)

Being a goal-minded individual, this is a difficult passage to put into practice.  It's a part of my culture to have a kind of outline to life with particular results in mind or particular expectations.  Expectations, specifically, are something I struggle with on nearly a daily basis.  I "expect" that graduate school will be challenging. I "expect" to lose sleep. I "expect" that I'll have days that show me things I have seen before. In all three of these simple examples, I set myself up to miss potentially beloved moments in life. Instead of constantly expecting difficult challenges, what if I accept that sometimes learning flows easily and that I may rest peacefully? What if I pay more attention to the possibility of deeper meanings, or new applications of meanings, to inform me in different ways?  In a more practical sense, what if I go into a yoga posture, without a preconceived idea that it is going to feel bad or good or that I will be able to express the posture well or poorly?  Isn't the expression at the time it is performed just what it is - an expression alone?  With that questioned posed, I follow with this excerpt:

But the man who delights in the Self,
who feels pure contentment and finds
perfect peace in the Self—
for him, there is no need to act.

Love thyself (the whole self - not just the parts that you "expect" will look good).

Centering

My goal in class yesterday was to center my attention using my breath. When particular spirals felt too tense, I tried to focus more on my breath and hearing my breath. I feel like I still have so much to learn about ujjayi breathing. Again - this is why they call it practice, right? I wonder how my breathing will be different tomorrow, next month, next year.

One particular moment was eye-opening. I actually worked with the flow of my breath to get into half moon pose and back out. There were no bobbles (well, standing on my left leg). I felt a warm path of energy flowing from my diaphram to my pelvis to my feet. My left hand was planted firmly on the ground. I felt stable! Persistence towards knowledge! I'm excited for the next revelation!

And so, I pass on this quote:

If the Tao could be served up, everyone would serve it up to their lords. If the Tao could be offered, there is no one who would not offer it to their parents. If the Tao could be spoken of, there is no one in the world who would not speak of it to their brothers and sisters. if the Tao could be passed on, there is no one who would not pass it on to their heirs. However, it obviously cannot be so and the reason is as follows.



If there is no true centre within to receive it, 

it cannot remain;

if there is no true direction outside to guide it,

it cannot be received....

Source: The Book of Chuang Tzu (Arkana S.), Page: 122..123

Wisdom and Realization

This week's journal prompt contains three quotes, two from the Bhagavad Gita and one from “The Yoga of Wisdom.” In the "Yoga of Wisdom," Krishna says:


“However men try to reach me,
I return their love with my love;
whatever path they may travel,
it leads to me in the end. (73)”


This quote struck me the most.  It also points me back to part of one of the quotes from the Bhagavad Gita when Krishna describes true wisdom to Arjuna:


“. . . the truly wise, Arjuna,
who dive deep into themselves,
fearless, one-pointed, know me
as the inexhaustible source.



Every class we begin and end by chanting "om".  Why do we do this?  I would assume for each person, it can be for different reasons and I'm sure our teachers tell us why we do this.  For me though, this is an action that initiates my discovery in the beginning of class and then sends me on my way after an hour and a half of practice.  This is when I quiet my mind and verbally call for my focus; to reach deep within myself and open to grace and self awareness.  At the end of class I chant to call an end to my practice, but also to feel the reverberation of the chant and practice bringing that "reverberation" into the rest of my day as an "inexhaustible source."

Cycle of Seasons

In yoga practice, we return to the same postures over and over again.  How can we approach each as fresh and new each time?  For me, it points to intention.  With the prompt from Michael, I made a conscious effort from the beginning of the class to be mindful of what I was doing at the very moment I was doing it.  Another consideration was discontinuing comparisons of previous attempts.  Some days, flexibility is better than others.  Today, I was happy with my pigeon pose because I found muscle engagement at the same time I found release.  I was also happy with less spinal twist in the triangle pose, because I did all I could do this morning.

"Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure.  But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transience, we suffer." - Shinichi Suzuki

Today I felt good, tomorrow I might suffer.  My commitment to embracing transience is also transient!

The Fire of Yoga

This week's journal prompt is from the 14th Sutra of the Pratyabhijnahrdayam.  Consciousness is referred to as a burning fire.  Gurumayi says:

"Whatever comes up, offer it to the fire of love, the fire of yoga.  This is how we should establish our life in our own being, so that no matter what flies at us, no matter what comes up from within ... it all gets burnt up in the fire of yoga. (278)"

Being a first year graduate student who is constantly trying to keep up with the constant onslaught of learning new things and the massive amount of course work, I feel a little stressed.  Additionally, I have a few family concerns that I am trying to manage.  Today, I went through yoga practice, trying to ignore the announcements in my head about what I needed to get done - not at all having to do with yoga.  Eventually the announcements grew louder.  I practiced offering the stress and concerns to the fire.  Interestingly, it made tears run down my face.  Hmmm. Water, not fire.  Nevertheless, I took this to mean a release.  I could have used more time with this though.  The release was fleeting as tension grew up again during my next class.  Oh well - practice, practice, practice.  I'm looking forward to tomorrow's class.

Existence and Perception

The journal prompt for the week of October 7th is taken from The Splendor of Recognition: An Exploration of the Pratyabhijña-hrdayam, a Text on the Ancient Science of the Soul by Swami Shantananda. Below are two quotes that Shantananda offers.  One is from Baba Muktananda's book Mukteshwari and the other is a quote from Abhinavagupta:

"Because of your existence

Creation exists.

If you do not exist,

Nothing exists.

Muktananda, first know your Self.

What are you looking for

East and west,

North and south,

Above and below?
Muktananda, the whole universe

You alone are, you alone are,

You alone are. (38-39)” - Baba Muktananda

“Nothing perceived is independent of perception, and perception differs not from the perceiver; therefore the [perceived] universe is nothing but the perceiver. (45)” - Abhinavagupta

My response:
"First know your Self."  I am struck by that sentiment.  My own perception or knowledge of the universe would not exist if I did not exist.  My experiences would not exist if I did not exist.  That seems obvious, but it's odd to consider.  I am part of this universe and everything in it, but the perception of it starts from within myself.  I own my reality.

Most recent application of perception and embodiment:
Eight forty-five a.m. rolled around early October seventh.  At the beginning of yoga practice I noticed that my breathing was shallow, my balance a little shaky.  It took a while to slow my breathing down and release the urge to listen to my inner dialogue about weight and muscle tone.  Sometime in my adult life, I recorded a soundtrack of unhelpful criticisms that chooses to play when it is least helpful.  About halfway through class I was able to reacquaint myself with my center and quiet the unnecessary dialogue though connecting with my breath - not just hearing my breath, but moving with and being a part of the inhalations and exhalations.  The function of my breath, an everyday act of existence, at last informed my movement in class.  During savasana, my breath was not the only thing to which I connected.  Next to me was another student, breathing deeply.  And next to him another and another.  I kept my own breathing steady while aware that we were all a community breathing life into our own practice.

A few words regarding embodied awareness

So what is to be done?
I'm suggesting a return to a primordial language.
One that exists as the deepest knowledge and expression that humanity knows.
It predates spoken language, it has its roots in the emergence of awe.
It is present in everyone, as an elemental music and reflection of molecular and stellar movement.
It is a genetic design built into leaf patterns and the bobbing of sea horses.
It is eminently present to children, we have educated it out of them.
but it is the story of our place in the universe and we must begin to tell that story again.
What we are losing is our ability to speak to the whole.
The songs of celebration, the poetry of praise.
Author unknown

To me the most important statement is - "What we are losing is our ability to speak to the whole."  It seems like I spend so much time segmenting my life into manageable chunks and tiny experiences, that I forget the whole picture.

Practice, practice, practice.