Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The warrior within


Birdwings
Your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as bird wings.

~ Rumi
I've been thinking about how it is sometimes helpful to find things that allow you to realize your power and grace, to connect with the light within. On the other hand, it can be detrimental if you identify your power and light too strongly with those things. I was thinking about this first with regards to running. Training for a marathon made me feel invincible: strong, courageous, capable, joyful - but when I became injured and couldn't run, I lost not only the activity itself but also my strength, courage and joy. In another example, a woman might feel like a goddess when she puts on an evening gown, but she might fail to notice that same goddess within herself when she's wearing old sweatpants or is naked. A yogi might feel power and courage when standing in a warrior pose but not when entering into a difficult work negotiation.

I suppose this issue is really about impermanence again. Though these things have the power to open our eyes to the potential that lies within us, they fade in and out of our lives. They cannot be depended upon, and we cannot hold onto them no matter how we try. Knees can be injured, an evening gown can be torn, our bodies age and change shape, and we cannot always stand in warrior pose. The paradox is that by experiencing them fully and letting them go, we can somehow retain their power and grace, whereas by clinging to them we seem to lose everything.

For myself, I am working on finding the warrior within, even when I'm not on the mat. Especially when I'm not on the mat. Awakening is really about what Rumi says so beautifully: learning to see your deepest presence in every small contracting and expanding, in every inhale and exhale, in every moment. It is an amazing gift to come into yourself fully, but it is a gift we might not appreciate if we didn't fade in and out of this knowing, this being present. It is a gift we can find around every corner, each expansion and contraction of the breath in the body, of the mind, of the spirit, another opportunity to go deep.

Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons

Monday, March 29, 2010

Just breathe


The other day I found myself saying, If I could teach everyone in the world one thing, it would be how to find their own breath. I think that of all the things I've learned in my years of doing yoga, of all the practices I've been given, this is the most powerful. This one simple thing: to remember to seek my breath and then learn to observe it, to deepen it or to hold it, to count it, to follow it or send it deliberately through the body... This is the key to all of the other practices for me. I truly believe that if all people learned to be aware of their own breath, the world would be a better place.

You don't have to "buy into" the system of yoga to access this practice. You don't have to believe in chakras or worship Ganesha. You don't have to be in a studio or own a yoga mat - and nobody has to know you are doing this practice if you don't want them to. Since we took our first breath, this simple action of moving air in and out of our bodies has been part of our connection to this earth: our greatest gift, our birthright. We all do it without being aware of it - but with awareness, the breath can be the key to calming the mind, coping with stress and anxiety, navigating grief and anger, or just getting to sleep at night.

There are periods of my life when this is my only practice. Sometimes I simply follow my breath and let go of my thoughts. This works well on the bus, at my desk, before eating - any time I need a moment of quiet. Other times, I deepen my breathing or even sigh and feel the tension melt away. These practices and the three-part yogic breath have helped me release anxiety and go to sleep at night, transforming me from an inveterate insomniac to a good sleeper. The breath of joy energizes me on a sleepy afternoon better than coffee and without keeping me up into the night. Of course, learning to use the breath can also transform the experience of asana, helping release muscles, concentrate the mind, consolidate balance, and more.

In January, I did a daily pranayama, or breath practice including some of the techniques mentioned above and others, including two commonly taught pranayama techniques: nadi sodhana, or alternate nostril breathing, which really enhances my meditation, especially if I'm feeling anxious about something; and kapalabhati, the skull-shining breath, which is another very invigorating practice. I've faded this more formal practice out, but want to return to it as part of my meditation practice since I found it very beneficial.

If you're interested in deepening your relationship with your breath, I highly recommend the book breath: the essence of yoga by Sandra Sabatini. Not only does she give lots of ideas for practice, but the book is basically poetry about the breath - a beautiful, reflective, resonant practice. I leave you with some of her words, because she says it much, much better than I can.

don't push, don't pull (p. 63)

allow the exhalation to travel out of the body
without leaving anything behind
only emptiness
a clean inside
don't be excited, don't be enthusiastic,
just be present, in here
and let the exhalation really move,
truly move out of the lungs

the movements created by the exhalation
are so subtle
you cannot DO them
you can only accept them, receive them, welcome them...
the rest is not in your hands
you can create a space
and then what comes in is a gift

Sunday, March 21, 2010

What does it mean to "do yoga"?

You cannot do yoga. Yoga is your natural state. What you can do are yoga exercises, which may reveal to you where you are resisting your natural state.
~ Sharon Gannon



In theory, practice and theory are the same. In practice they are not.
~Yogi Berra


Recently I was reading Lulu's post entitled "Can Anyone Really Say What Spirituality Is?" over at her Oceans and Avocados blog, and then I surfed over (as one tends to do these days) to the Eco Yogini post that inspired it. They got me to thinking about how my own view of yoga is similar and different to theirs, and also a little bit about both my practice and my research of late. Eco Yogini describes the point of yoga as being spirituality and discusses the differences she feels between her spirituality and what is traditionally taught in yoga. I guess I am coming to see the point as Sharon Gannon describes it in the quote at the beginning of this post. Yoga is a set of tools that we can use to reveal something about ourselves and how we relate to the world. That can be spiritual - it is for me - but it is also deeply personal, emotional, and it can be both a mental and physical journey too.

Lulu poses the questions: Who decides what spirituality/ zen/ yoga are? and What if the definitions don't work for you? These are important questions. There is a vast range of beliefs and practices that have sprung up out of every spiritual tradition, including yoga, and I think this is indicative of the fact that every set of tools does not lead every person to the same destination. What makes intuitive sense to one person, another person may be unable to connect to. When one person follows the practices of her teacher, she may discover an entirely new insight and there we have another school of practice. I am amused to be quoting Yogi Berra here but he makes an excellent point here in a way only he could: theory and practice are not the same thing, and one never replaces the other. The Buddha said this in another way: Doubt everything. Find your own light. He didn't want anyone to take his teachings as the Gospel, but rather for each to do his own practice and figure out what it is that he has inside.

Many people think of yoga as the practice of asana or postures, as a way to lose weight and stay in shape, or as a way to reduce stress. Patanjali said that Yoga is to still the patterns of consciousness [so that] pure awareness can abide in its very nature. The full system of yoga has eight limbs and is a fully formed way of living including both ethics and lifestyle practices that go far beyond asana. For my personal practice, this is very important. In the past two years, I have had periods of time where I've focused intensely on asana and this has had tremendous physical, emotional, mental and spiritual benefits. However, I have also had periods where I've focused more intensely on pranayama (controlling the breath) or meditation or various ethical principles. Each of these practices has also had intense physical, emotional, mental and spiritual outcomes for me. I very passionately would defend the idea that these are no less "doing yoga" than asana practice is, and in fact simply doing asana does not equal "doing yoga" for me.

However, right now I'm doing research and designing curriculum to bring some of these yogic practices - asana, pranayama, meditation - into educational programs to help international students manage stress related to studying in a foreign country. Through this work - and through reading about people's experiences in blogs such as those I've mentioned here - I am slowly becoming less of a purist. To me, the benefits of any one of these practices are so profound that to do it, even in isolation, can deeply transform a person's experience of a difficult situation. So who am I to look down on someone who doesn't follow the "whole system"? If a person won't do yoga because their religious beliefs prohibit it, who am I to withhold the secret of the three part breath from them? If someone goes to yoga class to work out and it makes them feel better, who am I to insist that they get spiritual? Meditation by any other name is still meditation. If I don't formally sit in meditation but I do take a moment on the bus to let my thoughts settle and follow my breath, who are you to judge my practice?

I know that not everyone will agree with me. There was a time when I might not have agreed. But these days, I'm thinking of ways to bring the benefits of yoga to more people. And if that involves teaching "stress management" or "deep breathing" or "quiet time" then so be it. The world will be a better place if more people connect with their breath.

Namaste.