Loosing Your Religion

A christian friend recently told me what a christian doctor of hers said about yoga. The doctor used to practice yoga and meditation, for years actually and felt he received great benefit from it (the benefits were not described) but he also found himself to be loosing his religion (again details not described). He concluded that yoga was the work of the devil and quit immediately and also, evidently, took to advising his clients of its dangers. At the time this little tidbit was shared with me, I sort of chuckled and thought - “well, sure, yoga WILL give you another perspective on religion.”  But for some reason it has stuck with me.

I have been through a sort of evolution in my perspective on yoga within the framework of spirituality and religion. In the beginning, I believed it to be non-dogmatic, spiritual but not religious, able to be easily reconciled with the belief systems of all and any religions. Then I started to realize that is does hold a systematic structure of beliefs and principles that define its practice - dogma. So I would describe it as a spiritual philosophy. Maybe it IS a religion -  a set of beliefs and values organized into a system of doctrine and practice. Sounds like yoga. In fact a yoga teacher and friend of mine, who came to the yoga practice with an agnosticism that was very resistant to the formal idea of God and religion, has in recent years opened herself up to a new faith and relationship with God. And she greatly attributes this to the yoga practice. The yoga revealed to her the truth of God. I myself, as a young adult, was greatly resistant to what I called at the time “organized religion” and even the word “God” especially with a capital “G”! I believed in a great mystical power that was the source of creation, but I hated the personifications of religion. Through years of the yoga practice I softened and my attitude towards religion. I became more allowing, more compassionate and I found myself saying the word “god” again when talking about my own belief system. But is yoga also potentially a destroyer of religion? What was it about yoga that had this doctor questioning or releasing his faith?

I think it has to do with the primary intention of a yoga practice that is to guide our awareness to the true nature of the self. We begin to see ourselves as perfect expressions of divine nature. As we see ourselves this way, we can’t help but acknowledge others as the same and then also all aspects of nature and the universe as divine manifestation. This is compassion and connection and oneness and includes people’s characterizations of God. As our vision and perception of God becomes all encompassing, how can we fully subscribe to any one specific set of dogma, labels and definitions? How can we limit ourselves to one label, one book of teachings, one name for God when there are so many that reveal the same message, the same truth? It is fear then, fear of abandoning our history, our personal, familial heritage. It is an understanding that falls just short of true oneness and awareness of our human, and preceding divine, heritage. We are all godly in nature, all expression of that are welcome.

Good Enough

Every yoga community has it’s culture. In my decade or so as an instructor, I have taught Ashtanga Yoga in a few different cities: Chicago, Miami, Philadelphia, and visited many others for workshops and events. Each community has certain characteristics regarding their approach to practice, to discipline, to asana, to ego, etc. Of course there are aspects of each individual that may contradict the whole but when in the room with a group there is often an overall sense of that group’s identity. Maybe it is intellectual and skeptical. Maybe it is driven and overeager. Maybe it is experimental and noncommittal. Each time I sink into the experiences of a new community it causes me to reflect on my own approach to practice, my own personal culture.

I have always considered myself to be a bit lazy. I know Guruji used to say only lazy people cannot practice Ashtanga yoga, yet here I am. I am the person that really, I mean REALLY, struggles with a consistent home practice. I can come up with a million rationalizations why I just can’t practice: “Ooops I already ate something, I can’t practice now!” “The kids NEED me this morning.” “I practiced yesterday” “I have to be somewhere in three hours, I just don’t have the time.” And then if I do make it to my mat, I tend to practice just good enough: “Primary Series is good enough” “Half Second is good enough” “Didn’t catch my landing in karandavasana, but that was good enough” “mayurasana was a mess (always is), but it was good enough” Because I have realized my tendency to settle samskara long ago, I do my best to first get into a shala with a teacher - it really changes everything for my motivation, intention, accountability - and second, not give in to the laziness of being satisfied with good enough when I am practicing at home, which lately is very very often.

Recently I am realizing that it isn’t really the urge to require so little of myself that is my practice culture, it is the resisting of it that characterizes me. I mean, maybe Guruji was right, lazy people cannot do this practice. And maybe I was not in fact lazy. I had a practice that stretched into third series, a lazy person would not have journeyed that far, right? A lazy person would not have chosen the physically, mentally, and emotionally demanding path of instructor. So I have misdiagnosed myself. I am not lazy after all, I am quite determined, quite motivated - at least enough to overcome what maybe most of us feel with regards to discipline and a committed yoga practice. It is the overcoming that defines us, not the challenge. That being said, what is the progress we are striving for in our practice anyway?

After second baby, I had faced a possible truth that I may never practice third series again. That it was a practice for a time in my life that had passed. I accepted it, with grief and a lot of ego resistance. But then something amazing happened! I started practicing with a teacher for the first time since beginning my journey as a parent. My practice progressed steadily and quickly, and about a year and a half after birthing my second boy, I was again practicing my third series postures!

It was a bit mind blowing, perception altering, to accept a new truth - that nothing is certain, all things are possible. Then shortly after reaching the point in my practice that I had been before kids, a new revelation. While the postures felt familiar, accomplishable, some even easy… the practice as a whole, full second through a small handful of postures of third, thoroughly. wiped. me. out. As a mom who had to leave the shala to go home to two little ones in the getting-into-everything stage and the needs-mommy-for-everything stage, I wondered if I could maintain it. But why did I have to? Serendipitously, due to schedule issues and circumstances at home, I had to shift my practices from the shala to the garage. And with my previously mentioned tendency towards “good enough” I soon settled into a practice that excluded my newly regained third series postures. And it felt great! It felt right. I am now confident that third series, and maybe beyond, is something that is available to me in the future of my practice but am comfortable that the time is not NOW.

I look at the culture I am currently teaching in and see students that are so enthusiastic for that next pose, the next physical challenge, referencing superstars on instagram, or other students in the same mysore room, asking about handstand technique and drop backs. Will they realize eventually, that progress in our practice is not about how many postures we do, or even about how well we execute them - not really? Progress is about deepening our understanding of ourselves, and the opportunity for that is available in surya namaskar just as readily as it is in tic tics. I am reminded of something Sharath spoke about in conference during one of my trips to practice in Mysore. A student asked about something Guruji used to say about the practice - that the more stupid the student, the further into the 6 series he/she would have to practice to reach enlightenment. Sharath laughed and said then he must be the most stupid. And he clarified saying yes, while many need more, there is enough to work with in Primary series alone, even just surya namaskar, to guide a student to Samadhi, if the student is devoted and focused. So rest easy, whatever your practice, it is in fact, good enough.

Lost and Found

This is a pretty personal post, difficult to share my current vulnerabilities. But it is real

Four (or so) years ago my yoga practice was awesome! My execution of postures may or may not have been awesome … but my practice was incredible. I had time. I was disciplined. I was motivated. I felt good, most of the time. I was steadier than I realized at the time - mentally, emotionally, and physically. I realize it now, in retrospect, because right now, I am quite a mess. Since the times of my awesomeness, I have had two pregnancies and the resulting two kids. As mentioned in the previous blog, parenthood changed me - wiped me clean, stripped me down, essentially broke me. My sense of self was shattered, all identifying markers demolished. Shiva the destroyer did a number on me. Including my yoga practice. My youngest is now a year and a half and I am nearly back to practicing the progressive ashtanga sequences that I did BC (Before Child)  And it is far from awesome. Each day is a struggle to claim practice time and from there claim the luxury of practicing at the shala with a teacher. Once on my mat, it is a struggle to claim strength, focus, steadiness, endurance, surrender, focus, commitment … did I say focus? The teacher I am working with is a peer, a friend, and someone I have known for a long time. He has been moving me through the practice at a pretty good pace, knowing what my BC practice was. I trust him completely and surrendered to his guidance, accepting postures as he gave them to me, progressing as he saw appropriate. Some of the old challenges were hard again, but I was familiar with that work. Other postures were surprisingly easy. My greatest obstacles have always been related to strength. And this time around is no different. The postures themselves are integrating well enough, or at least as I would have expected. It is the overall tone and particularly the transitions that are a disaster. I am fairly easily distracted and fatigue sets in way too early. I am not feeling ease and steadiness, at least not in the way that I used to.
Last week I had to force myself out of bed and to the shala after an awful previous day, just one of THOSE days. I didn’t want to practice, I didn’t want to have to move my body, be aware of myself, feel myself, be with myself. I was the last person I wanted to be around that morning. But I went and I got on my mat. I just kept moving thru, one breath, then the next, one pose, then the next. Some tears were there, but I told myself to just get thru the practice. I knew it was the only thing that could shift my attitude. After wards I spoke to him about my feelings of self-doubt, wondering if I should really be doing the practice to this advanced level, that was struggling and felt that it must look horrendous. He was encouraging, saying, in his particularly charming way that he relates the postures to herpes - once you have them, they are never really gone. Ha ha! It echoes what I have also thought. I believe in the strength of muscle memory and established patterns in the nervous system etc. I have experienced it myself as I try a posture for the first time in 4 years and it seems surprisingly accessible. He assured me that my arctic was fine, to just keep doing the work.
A few days later, I find myself agonizing over this concept in a different context. I was driving to teach at 5 am following a long night of frustration with very little sleep, caring for my sick 3 year old. I was feeling like a far less than awesome parent, in fact, a less than awesome human being. What happened to me? I thought back to that girl with the incredible practices. I used to be so even in temperament. I used to be able to see the world around me with a certain mindfulness, maybe a hint of that non-attachment we all talk about in yoga. I intentionally tried to use Patanjalic principles in my relationships, in the way I interacted with my world. I was working the Yamas and Niyamas. I used to read and contemplate philosophical concepts then discuss them with my contemporaries over chai. (ok, it was usually a cafe con leche) I used to purposely work on becoming a better me. I meditated. I meditated! Crying in my car for an hour that morning, I grieved for the loss of that life and I wondered … if the asanas were always relatively available to us once integrated then how much of those subtler practices are also available. Does it work that way? I want a strong heart and steady mind. I want peace and serenity (not in my home - that would be an impossible request) within. I want to be a better mom. I want to be a better partner. I want to be a better person … again.
I think about what Guruji used to say about parenthood, about it being 7th series yoga. He is also believed to have spoken to students about taking their yoga out into the world. It is easy to have a strong and steady practice in Mysore, India where all you have to do is your yoga. There are no other obligations or responsibilities. The only distractions are the ones you choose and even that, on reflection, offers insight and an opportunity for self-study, a yogic practice. Taking your practice out into the world is the real challenge. Can you do all of that, what the world requires of you, and maintain your focus, your stability, your commitment and discipline, your buttery back bend? I am finally really understanding all of that - 7th series, householder yoga etc. Yoga is hard! It is hard to live spiritual /philosophical principles when you are sleep deprived, missing a shower, subsisting on coffee, the crumbs and leftovers from your children's snacks and meals, (oh and wine) When you’re just trying to make sure your little wild things don’t break anything, don’t spill too much, don’t hurt each other, but also have fun, explore their world, and learn something. When you are trying to stay at least a little connected to you partner, make eye contact throughout the day, maybe a kiss or two, and if your are lucky a good conversation every once in a while ( I am not going to say anything about the work it takes to avoid arguments) When you have a million phone calls to make, paperwork to fill out, schedules to remember, shopping, cooking, dishes, laundry, cleaning . . . Daily life is hard enough, where is the space to do the spiritual work?
I am realizing that it is, in part, a matter of simply making the choice, day after day, to carve out those two hours on my mat. Start there. I also need to claim my meditation practice again, establish consistency, commit. Beyond that - and this is the seventh series part, the part I am sure I don’t have figured out - approaching the day with the same intentions, perspective, and purpose that I did when everything was so easy. The only things that have changed are the things that are outside of myself. My SELF remains. The me that was once connected, mindful, conscious, is still there. This is my yoga: It is easy to have a spiritual practice and live philosophically when all you are responsible for is yourself. Now do that work with all of this other stuff too, and by the way, try to raise spiritually conscious kids while you’re at it.

Photo is during an attempt to capture a beautiful bakasana selfie - Ha!

here i am! . . . sort of

How do I even begin? It feels like this blog is an introduction, like it is the first blog I have ever written. I guess I need to just… begin. So much has happened in the past two years. I gave birth to my second son. We have been moving all over the galaxy, searching for “home”. I have been mommy - pretty much only mommy, with hints of Angelique tucked in to the crevices. That has been my yoga lately, a rediscovering of Angelique, a reclaiming of her, freeing her, giving her space and allowing her to be. The thing that I observed in my friends becoming parents, the thing I told myself I would never allow, the thing I thought I would be exempt from due to my yoga practice and starting a family a bit later in life than those I witnessed - I lost myself to mommy hood. It was a gradual process. A process of accepting the sense of another’s dependance, of choosing to fulfill their needs and wants over yours, essentially being what you believe to be a good mother. The days, weeks, months pass - breastfeeding your baby, changing diapers, pureeing foods, nap times, play times, walks, figuring out how to discipline, figuring out how to be cooperative with your partner, learning that you and your partner might not actually be on the same page on many issues, maybe not even the in the same book! For me, in the midst of this parenting thing, I found myself behaving in ways completely foreign to who I knew myself to be. I would ask myself “who the hell am I right now?” and struggled to answer that question, devastated by the answers I came up with. I tried to claim certain things that made me feel like myself again: Time spent with my sister - who knows the real you better than your twin sister? Getting back to a deeper commitment to my yoga practice. I looked back at the life I once had, only 4 years ago! - So frickin’ easy! All I had was me. My only obligations were to myself. I had a regular teaching schedule. I had a regular, intense, challenging ashtanga practice. I went to the beach, took naps, went out to dinner with friends. What a life! A life I would never experience again. At one point I accepted that I would never practice third series again. That was a time in my life and it had passed. I even questioned whether or not I was still meant to teach. Maybe it wasn’t a part of what my life was now supposed to be. Maybe it too was a time that had fulfilled itself and has now passed. I wondered if I would ever return to Mysore, India, the home and heart of the practice. The possibility broke my heart. I had been practicing, a bit, but it was more a going thru the motions. It was mostly shallow, distracted, unsatisfying, frustrating. Mommyhood had completely destroyed my ego, my sense of self. Every identifying marker gone. Those things were replaced by the egoic needs of the kids - which led to my personal crisis. I had lost my own sense of self into theirs, their view of me, which was only “mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!” I had to finally get to a place of redefining. This is the moment I think I entered, or rather surrendered to, seventh series Ashtanga yoga. Guruji, Sri K Pattabhi Jois considered Ashtanga to be a householder practice. It was not designed for renunciates or saddhus. It was designed for people living in the world, with worldly obligations, including families. He referred to parenthood as seventh series yoga, following the six series of asana sequences that characterize this practice. I reached out to the community - the specific community of other Ashtanga mommies, particularly those that teach. From the words of this group I was able to give myself permission to take it easy - on myself. I was encouraged to just enjoy this time when the boys are young, to focus on them, as this time passes so quickly and then is gone forever. I was assured that the time to devote to a full teaching schedule will return, when the time is right - as will the time to return to India. I was inspired to just give attention to the practice, to let that feed me, strengthen me, remind me, redefine me. I began to fight for my yoga - again a gradual process. I wanted it to be easy, I wanted to be supported, encouraged, inspired. It was none of that. I struggled to keep choosing my practice over - well, everything else. I still struggle. Through practice, faint fingers of light dawned on my experience, I realized that my ego needed to be reformed. I could be a passive participant, letting my circumstances shape me or I could make decisions about who I wanted to be. I could let go of certain “shoulds” - those expectations, pressures, and judgements that all mothers face, from those around them and themselves. I could trust myself and make choices about the aspects of Angelique I want to express. My sense of self is returning but it is a brand new picture that emerges from the fog. I have recently been regiven the first few third series postures. It surprises me how much the body remembers, how the energy of my body - every molecule, atom, neutron - molds itself into those familiar patterns and shapes. While familiar, it means something new to me this time. It a testament to a deeper strength, to a longer story of my own yoga, than I ever realized, spreading back beyond my pre-child self to a self before even my own birth. It gives new confirmation to the calling that is my yoga practice and my urge to share the method. It is still a gradual process but I accept that, my practice reminds me of that every time I get on my mat. Slowly I see myself again, familiar but different.