From the Archives: June 9, 2017 Mindfulness - Accessing the Self

Mindfulness - Accessing the Self

What does it mean to be mindful? It is a word we hear often in our yoga classes, but what does it mean in practice? The word itself is actually a bit misleading, containing the word “mind” it implies thinking. Thinking involves a dialogue, storytelling, even judgement. The thinking mind is a tricky beast. It is subject to habits, manipulation and deception. But true mindfulness is beyond thinking, it is simply awareness, observation, and acknowledgment without attaching value judgment or meaning. If we can settle into our awareness as witness we can more honestly connect to our experiences and ourselves.

In yogic philosophy the citta (or what we in the west think of as the mind) is divided into three components: manas, the mind; buddhi, the intellect; and ahamkara, the ego. Manas is the reactive mind that is subject to the variations of the vrittis, those tendencies based on patterned habits, or samskara. It will impose beliefs onto the input it receives from the senses, trying to organize it into a framework it understands and that supports its understanding of reality - or at least the reality that it is currently attached to. It reacts in three common ways, based on attraction, aversion and indifference. It lives on desires and often compels you toward the negative. For example, it is the mamas, mind, that will tell you “My arms are not long enough to do this pose” or “I’m too old to do this” or “I’m not smart enough for…..” 

In a mindfulness practice, we are aiming to avoid this reactive mind. We are aiming to allow the input to come without attaching meaning to it. For example, when a bind in a marichyasana pose is not coming, we allow the information “I am not binding” rather than the judgment “My arms are too short”. Then we try to take our observations further: “What am I feeling in my shoulder? Am I accessing forward fold? or twist?” etc to lead us further into honest observation of our experiences. As we gather information, a new picture, a new reality begins to emerge, one we avoid reacting to and instead allow the buddhi, the intellect, to assess. Intellectual understanding is gained by experience. It must be practiced and then it becomes a part of your personality. Intellectual observation keeps aiming further inward, inward, inward towards the ultimate reality. So what is that? Good question! Keep searching!

Perhaps surprisingly, pain is a means to direct us toward a mindful practice. It provides a point of focus to direct our observation and awareness inward, beyond the senses. Our five senses keep our focus on the world outside of ourselves, the environment that provides scents, sounds, sights etc. Pain takes our attention to the experiences within our own bodies, to our muscles, joints, etc. When the body is giving us feedback that we want to immediately label “pain” we are paying attention to the information. If we can avoid the manas, mind - avoid reaction, avoid judgment, labeling and storytelling - we can sit in witness to our experience and begin to ask questions. We can access the buddhi, intellect. This leads to understanding that becomes our new reality. 

Another way into mindfulness is the breath. Like pain, the breath directs our awareness from the world outside of ourselves to the world within. The breath is something that happens naturally, without thought. But it is also something that we can take conscious control over and move and direct as we choose. As we focus on managing and directing the breath we dive into ourselves, into our nervous system. As we slow and steady the breath, our manas calms and quiets, the reactions are slowed, our emotional reactions are intercepted with observational awareness. We are given space to accept information from ourselves, even observe the reactionary mind from the perspective of the intellect! One aspect of the mind observing the other! It’s fascinating!

With practice, mindfulness becomes our way of being. We sit in witness to our experiences, allowing information to gather without reacting from a place of judgment, without needing to fit everything into our current reality. We allow our reality to change based on the honesty of our experiences. We go deeper and deeper inward, as neutral observer, eventually integrating with the true nature of the self.

From the Archives: June 3, 2017 Time

Time

Tick-Tock.  The sound of a clock marking the passage of time.  In our culture we schedule our days according to the hours and plot our lives along the pages of a calendar.  Even within the yoga practice when we are asked to “Be Present!” and focus on the right here right now, we are aware of time. Counting our breathes we see another student moving effortlessly through some incredible posture.  We wonder how long it will be until we are capable of that.  Or maybe we fear that we are already too old and don't have enough time to develop those postures.  In this world where everything is moving so quickly, give yourself the gift of slowing down.  At least in yoga, don’t hurry!

Rather than looking at this practice only as some track that progresses forward in time like a two hour class or a six day a week practice, realize that there is also a path that moves inward, spiraling into depths of the NOW space.  When you choose to slow down or perhaps by injury or some physical resistance you are forced to, you have the opportunity to explore your practice on new levels. It is easy to become attracted to the forward progression of a yoga practice when flying through a vinyasa sequence one pose to the next or trying to accomplish some difficult bind.  It is natural.  We want to be able to do it all and we rush our bodies towards it.  Inspiration is an essential element of the yoga practice but what is the hurry?  Most often we are looking for some way to measure our progress.  We are looking at how long it takes to become adept at a challenging pose or how long we can remain in that posture, at the same time already thinking about what comes next.  In looking forward to what is currently beyond our reach we miss the potentials available in exploring the depths of the moment we are currently in.  

When we first discover a yoga posture we learn how to place the physical body.  This leg goes here, the arm over there and I look this way, etc.  As we settle into that form the attention moves to the subtler layers of muscular awareness.  We learn where we can release and what needs to remain active, where we lengthen and where we draw in.  Layer by layer we dig deeper beyond the physical sensations toward the energetic ones.  We become aware of prana, life force energy moving through the channels we have opened by placing our body in this certain way.  This energetic experience is a yoga that we would miss if we were rushing through.

Each of us has our own internal rhythm and tempo.  We are drawn to different methods of yoga sometimes based on this internal timing and how it urges us to move our bodies.  While still honoring your own personal clock, try to find a drawing out of each present moment.  The breath not only moves you forward but every inhale draws you inward.  If you find yourself speeding through your sun salutes, lengthen the breath and slow down.  Experience each moment as you move through it.  Allow yourself to really be in your chaturanga dandasana. Feel that exhale spreading out and expanding time so that you can have the space to explore the depths of that experience before moving through into upward facing dog.  Like controlling a movie with the remote control, putting it into slow motion so that you can see every element of a scene, the actors expressions as well as the background details.  Bring that element of discovery to each breath and see every aspect of what is happening to your body, your mind and the sensations of how energy is moving through you.  Rather than just hitting the main markers along the road, fill out the scenery and see everything.  

As you explore the yoga practice as a landscape you will find less urge to rush forward.  The forward will reveal itself to you along its own time line, learning new postures and progressing organically.  You will be less focused ahead of you as you will become present in the richness of the moment.  When you discover this depth available in the yoga practice you can realize that it is present out there as well, in the world beyond the mat.  In your jobs or relationships, wherever you give your attention and energy, slow down, fill out the scenery, look at the details and explore its textures.  The future will come, that is an inevitability.  Extend your breath and experience the depth of time as well as its length.

From the Archives: April 23, 1017 Pain

Pain

Am I really going to write about this? This controversial, slippery, nuanced topic…. Yes. Yes, I am. There are so many routes of discussion on this topic, but I will attempt to stay in the neighborhood of one. In the yoga practice, pain comes. It does. A completely painless lifetime of practice is unrealistic to say the least. Pain is a dialect in the language of the body in it’s effort to communicate with the mind. 

What I want to focus on here and now is navigating your practice while experiencing pain. To get on your mat or not to get on your mat - that is the question.  

As a student I was taught to do the practice no matter what. Don’t rest. Don’t avoid postures. Practice through the pain. Yes, I practice Ashtanga and I am aware of the reputation that can follow the Ashtanga method due to this very topic. But the idea of practicing through pain has been widely misunderstood by students and almost as widely misrepresented by instructors. Ashtanga does not ask you to ignore the pain you are receiving and shove your body into the most contorted version of the asana you can. This is dangerous and completely antithetical to what a yoga practice should be. What it does do is ask that you steadily meet yourself on your mat, day after day, through every fluctuation, transition, and evolution. As your body shifts from feeling amazing to feeling horrible, visit with it. Get to know its mood swings, attitudes, and beliefs. As a teacher, I urge my students to come to class if they are feeling pain, even and especially if it is a sensation that they would like to label “injury”. Sometimes there is a legitimate injury - often this is obvious immediately, due to intensity, type of sensation, inability to move, etc. Sometimes it takes exploring what is possible to be able to identify what is not. 

Practicing through the pain is a means of investigation, a way to develop inner awareness and build skills. We get on our mat, visiting the familiar postures, with a deeper level of mindfulness. When the mind/body communications system is active, via the nervous system, with messages of pain, we can use the sensations to guide our approach, our methodology, alignment, muscular effort, breath, mental patterns and emotional reactions. When that sensation of pain arises, we can pause, breath, make small adjustments to change the sensation. Less pain now? Has it shifted to tension rather than pain? Soreness now? Completely gone? Ok, now we have experienced that in this position, if I make this adjustment, I have less pain. Perhaps that means that this is the appropriate alignment, approach, etc. Perhaps it is a matter of recognizing where your true stopping point is, what the honest expression of the pose is for you in this moment. (Don’t let what you want to do take over for what you can do.) Now you have learned something! If you continue in this way, day after day, you learn more and more details about the correct method of achieving the movement you want with less or no pain. Eventually the injury heals, or the strengthening processes, or the transformation is complete and in the meantime you have developed a new movement pattern, new strengths, and new inner awareness. 

If, on the other hand, a pain arises in the body and you take that as a signal to rest, stay off your mat for a few days, etc. Pretty soon, if it is not an actual injury, the pain will subside and disappear. You will feel better, ready to get on your mat. After the first day, or week, the pain will return. Why? Because you are practicing in the same way, with the same patterns, same alignments as before - the same way that caused the pain in the first place. You gave your body rest, enough time for the communications system to go offline, but you didn’t learn anything new. Nothing changed. This cycle will continue to repeat until either you decide to give up the practice, or you really really hurt yourself, or you finally decide to get back on your mat, even when it hurts and figure out how to do the work in a way that hurts less. 

On the flip side of avoiding pain is ignoring pain. With both tendencies, release your urge to self-judge. Sometimes, it is true, you get on your mat and realize that there is very little asana possible with the sensation you are experiencing, and making adjustments to approach and alignment have very little effect. If you tend to over-do it, push too hard when your body is experiencing a shift, opening, or strengthening, it is important to recognize it, check yourself, and choose rest. It is ok to rest. Rest is also a part of practice. The longer you practice and investigate the sensations that arise, the feedback from your body, the easier it is to identify the situations where practice is most beneficial and also those times where rest is required. You are learning the language of your body. Remember, you don’t know what you don’t know and learning doesn’t happen when you stay in bed.

From the Archives: March 5, 2017 Tradition, Lineage, Parampara

Tradition, Lineage, Parampara

All yoga practices derive from some sort of tradition. Some are more on the innovation end of the spectrum, but most can be linked to only a few original lineages. I won’t get in to specific lines of teaching but would like to explore the tradition of parampara in yoga and what it means to us as students and teachers of a yoga method. Parampara is a Sanskrit word that denotes the principle of transmitting knowledge directly from teacher to student in direct, unbroken succession. A student chooses their teacher, surrenders and commits their path of learning to that instruction. The teacher in turn commits to their student, pledging a lifetime of guidance and offering everything they know to that student. It is a sacred relationship. 

When talking to new yoga students I have always stressed the value of trying as many different methods and teachers as they can access. There is a yoga for everyone but not every type of yoga is for you. Not every teacher is your teacher. When you come upon the practice and the teacher that is right for you, you will know. You will somehow feel immediate benefit, you will feel immediate connection, and you will feel challenged in new ways. 

Before finding my own path, I dabbled in several different styles, jumped from one teacher to the next. I connected to a method for a few years before finding my primary teacher. While I could not have articulated it at the time, looking back, I know what determined for me that Kino MacGregor was my teacher.   Simply, she knew what I was capable of before I had any idea. She believed in me and I believed in her. While I don’t have the opportunity to practice with her regularly these days, I still feel that I can reach out to her and she is there for me. I have had other teachers that have provided incredible value to my practice and my life, but I will always consider her my primary teacher. 

When I finally ventured to India and the home of the Ashtanga Yoga lineage, home of Kino’s teacher and my other teachers’ teacher, I became fully committed to the Guru, Sri K. Pattabhi Jois. He became my Teacher - capital “T”. And since his passing, my practice is devoted to his grandson, R. Sharath Jois. My teaching is a reflection, a continuation of knowledge transferred from Kino, Guruji (Sri K. Pattabhi Jois) and Sharathji (affectionately - The Boss). Kino’s teaching is a direct continuation of what she learned over many years as a committed student of Guruji’s and now Sharath’s. Sharath was devoted to Guruji and Guruji was devoted to his teacher, Tirumalai Krishnamacharya and so on… and so on….  back and back. 

There are practical benefits to practicing within a lineage. The information gained by practice can continuously be built upon. Someone who has been practicing and teaching a particular method for many years has gained a lot of information about what works, what doesn’t; what benefits, what does harm; what damages, what heals. Then this information is passed on, the next student or teacher adds to it the information gained by their own practice and teaching. Each student has the benefit of all of those years of experience, not just of their teacher, but of their teacher’s teacher, and their teacher’s teacher’s teacher. Knowledge is compounded, wisdom deepens and expands.

Most of the benefit of practicing within a parampara tradition and committing yourself to one teacher is philosophical or spiritual in nature. When we find our teacher, we are able to surrender. This is a difficult concept for many in western culture. We are taught to question authority, or to be our own authority. This also has value and can remain a part of your approach to your yoga practice, but how do you know what you do not know? Choose your teachers wisely. It is important to do the practical research of their training and teaching experience. You want to be able to trust that they have knowledge and experience that you yourself do not have. Then there is the element of a connection you are looking for. If you find a teacher you can surrender to, that is Ishvara Pranidhana of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. Do the work as your teacher instructs, without attachment to the outcome or the fruits of your action. Do not seek the results, but allow them. Trust. I’ll say it again - Trust. 

In a parampara relationship, the teacher not only transmits information but also the energetic spark of illumination. The same blessing that traveled the line of the lineage is transferred to you. It is this spark that lights the fire of true inner transformation, that lights the way to truth and enlightenment. If it sounds dramatic, that is my intention. There is nothing frivolous about a yoga practice. It’s primary intention is liberation. Don’t choose a teacher or method that promises to give you enlightenment. A teacher cannot promise that. Choose a teacher and method that offers to shine a light on the path that you yourself must travel on, rough roads and all. 

From the Archives: February 5, 2017 On the Self

On the Self:

Close your eyes. Tune in to the breath. The breath draws awareness and attention that is directed outside of the self, to our inner spaces. As you inhale bring awareness into the body. Acknowledge any aches or pains, tightness, resistance, soreness, fatigue. Without judgment, observe how the body is feeling today. Then realize that if you can observe the sensations of the body then you are not that. You are not the body. Allow the inhale to draw your awareness deeper, into the movements of the mind. It is the nature of the mind to move, to jump around, to present one thought, then another, then another. Do not hate the mind, this is its nature. Do not fight it. Imagine the mind like the screen at the beginning of Star Wars movies, expansive space. And thoughts are the words that appear on the screen, big at first, but gradually fading into the background. Allow the screen to move into the darkness of space. Don’t attach to any thought. It comes. And it goes. Your awareness remains on the breath. And then realize that if you can sit in witness to the movements of the mind then you are not that. You are not the mind. You are something beyond the mind, observing. Deeper now, with the breath, becoming aware of your emotional state, your mood. Acknowledge what is sitting in your heart space. Without judgement, without needing to tell a story about it, acknowledge it, name it. If you can observe your emotions then you are not them. You are not your emotions. You are something beyond them. The you that is witness is beyond body, beyond mind, beyond emotions and is unaffected by the fluctuations there. The you that is witness sits in a steady peace, unaffected by fluctuations in environment, sensations in the body, thoughts, emotions, everything. This is the self that yoga aims to guide you to. This self - the atman - the purest form of your divine nature, is the destination of the path that is your practice.

So how does an asana practice bring us there - to that peaceful steady contentment? The postures we perform on the mat have many purposes including building strength and flexibility in the body, cleansing the internal organs and nervous system, revealing our deeply ingrained patterns of behavior and thought so we can make discriminate choices and change, and clearing away debris in our self-perception to expose our true nature. Sounds kinda mystical, doesn’t it? It’s actually quite simple, even happens without our trying. But like many things of value, it takes time and consistency to develop. 

Each time we put ourselves into a posture, our tendencies arise. If it is a posture we are good at or enjoy, we are pleased with ourselves. We want to do it again. We want others to see us doing it. We develop a story about the pose, and maybe an attachment. When we are faced with a pose we dislike, find difficult or even - gasp! painful! - we tell a different story, one perhaps about how our arms are too long, or that old injury from high school is making it impossible. We try to sneak out of the pose early, dread it coming up again next class and grumble our way through each time it does. Then there are poses that really challenge us, they bring us to our darkness and our fear, make us angry or sad, display loudly our harmful inner voice. Poses can make us hate our practice, hate our teacher, question why the heck are we doing this when we could be having a glass of wine with friends right now. The yoga brings all of this to you on your mat and asks you to stay. Find equanimity. No one will applaud you. You cannot escape. You will have to do it again. Just stay in this pose breathing steadily. Notice your thoughts, notice your patterns, just stay and breath. Stay here in this pose you love with the same state of mind as you do in the pose you hate. Look at the anger that arises. Do you need it? Is it benefiting you? Can you let it pass through you and move on? Can you be angry and still be in the pose, breathing steadily? That is yoga. Anger will come, sadness will come, fear definitely will come, many thoughts, stories, beliefs will come. Can you observe them, assess them, let them move through you without judgement, without attachment? Each time, they will have less power. They will always arise but they will not control you. Each intense moment on the mat develops an inner strength, builds the throne upon which that inner witness sits, comfortable and at peace. While you sweat and strain and agonize on the mat, the witness observes and gains strength. When you find yourself challenged off the mat, that space is still available. The space of the true self is calm steadiness, giving space before reaction, space to stay and breath, to notice sensation, thought and emotion. Your yoga asana practice cultivates the space to get past impulsive reaction based on sensory input and patterns. You can respond with awareness from a place of calm assessment and choice about what is the most benefit to you and those around you. If you can find steadiness of mind will balancing on one leg, the other leg thrown around behind your head, gaze directed towards infinity, a smile on your face, you can do anything.