Have you done your practice (in Sanskrit–sadhana) today, whatever your practice may be?
If you don’t yet have a regular practice, what do you think it would take? I recommend starting small–allow it to be short and what you like to practice, rather than failing because you think it must be challenging or for a longer period of time than fits readily into your schedule.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Every once and a while, I poll my students and ask them whether they find that they need less medication and medical intervention (testing and other procedures) than before they were regularly practicing yoga. Students uniformly advise that they take painkillers less frequently. Some students say they need lesser amounts or have been taken off other medications by their doctors. Others note better sleep, less frequent colds, flu, or other common contagious illnesses. Others have stated they have avoided recommended surgery by working hard to shift their alignment. I personally have experienced great improvements in physical and emotional health from my steady practice, which has led to my doctor of 15 years agreeing that I need less medicine (note: I am not advocating none) and testing. I think my making the commitment to practice to minimize health care consumption as one of the ways I personally take care of the environment.
No matter what it is we are making, consuming, and disposing, and how we are doing those things, the four R’s of consumption to benefit the environment (refuse [i.e., don’t use], reuse, repurpose, recycle), start with not using things in the first place so that we do not have the environmental degradation of manufacturing and ultimate disposal. We do not usually think about this in the context of medical treatment because we want to be out of pain and illness and for the most part, think of medical treatment as a fundamental right.
At an individual level, lots of people would rather just take a pill (or even have surgery) than have to make a consistent change in behavior, physical activity, and diet. There are also times when western medical treatment is the only effective treatment, and we are very fortunate to have it available. Some people are not in a position in society to make a shift easily in this regard or to understand what it means. But for those of us in the know, prevention not just of illness, but of medical consumption, by exercising, meditating, practicing therapeutic yoga, and shifting our diet, is a wonderful way we can personally seek to limit our reliance on fossil fuels and reduce our personal waste output. In addition to eliminating the need to have the supplies manufactured, it will also keep medications that have passed through your body from reentering the water and food supply (which in turn has its own detrimental health impacts to society and to the environment).
Has the practice of yoga changed you as a consumer of health care? Have you ever considered the relationship between being a consumer of health care and your environmental impact?
If you are walking from the march to RFK tomorrow afternoon/evening and would like a rest stop nearby, send me an email or message me on Facebook.
Though there is still snow on the ground, the days are about to be longer than the nights, and my inbox is full of both expensive and discount offers for cleanses of various sorts, and I’m seeing Facebook posts asking about good spring cleanses with all sorts of suggestions in response. If I were a different kind of reader and practitioner, I’d no doubt be beset with explanations and special offers for dieting into a bikini-worthy body. If I were an even different sort of reader, I might be thinking I needed an official spring cleanse, one of the ones that yoga acquaintances say make them feel light or high, etc.
I don’t much believe in cleanses, but I do believe in listening–really paying attention–to my body and emotions and how they relate to the cycle of the seasons. In winter, I tend to gain a few pounds from spending more time inside and eating the heavy, dense food my body wisely craves in winter both for warmth and protection from starvation (granted the latter is not a real threat for the middle-class, but my genetic make-up doesn’t know that). I fully trust that when the days get warmer and lighter and I can spend more time outside walking and spring vegetables and fruit start to show up at the market, I will lose a few pounds.
Before you get too caught up in thinking that to have the body you’re supposed to have (whether it be for looks or some fashion-driven notion of health) you need to go on some formal diet you might not need or spend money having someone tell you what to eat and when (although if you find that works for you, who am I to say no?), why not try noticing whether the change of light and temperature alters your natural cravings (not the ones for junk food or excess sugar or salt)? If you can notice a change in what food attracts you, try honoring the change.
You might find that small portions of kitcheree (lightly spiced rice and lentil porridge), along with plenty of fruits and vegetables (and as spring produce comes in, you’ll find spring vegetables and fruit want less cooking than do winter ones, or perhaps none at all), feels like a nice way to lighten up for several days as the seasons transition. Ssssh! That’s pretty much what’s in a spring cleanse. If you want to make your change of diet feel sanctioned by the yogis add some reading on Ayurveda or mindful eating to invigorate your practice and your dedication to paying loving attention to your body and how it relates to the seasons and the web and cycle of being.
My trip to the Anusara Grand Gathering was some loop of a trip, spiraling and pulsing between urban and rural, quiet time and enthusiastic gathering, old places and new scenery. Last Saturday, I took a morning train to Manhattan, where I went to the Rubin Museum–one of my favorite spaces in the City, walked to see the Ai Weiwei sculptures in front of the Plaza, and ate good food. On Sunday morning, I got back on the train, this time heading north to Saratoga Springs. Just north of Croton-on-Hudson, I saw soaring over the river a raptor with an enormous wing span, white head, and brown body and wings — most likely a bald eagle.
My friend Suzanne picked me up at the Amtrak Station in Saratoga Springs. We went back to her house for lunch. Before driving to Stratton Mountain for the Anusara Grand Gathering, she showed me her studio, which is a wonderful space; I look forward to visiting again. And then we were in Vermont with John Friend, the scholars, the certified teachers leading the break out sessions and assisting, the musicians, the outdoor art, and a few hundred committed yogis. (See previous four posts for my thoughts o the Grand Gathering).
On Wednesday afternoon, I rode back to New York with a fellow yogi and teacher I have long admired. I decided on pure impulse, since we were getting to the City a couple of hours early, to visit my parents. We were able to spend the evening and morning talking, and then my mother and I went to Old Westbury Gardens (check out the new Facebook profile picture my mother took in the rose garden on my personal page and please “like” my public page, if you haven’t already).
I caught the Long Island Railroad to Penn Station and then Amtrak back to DC. The next morning (Friday), I worked a full day, returning to quite a slew of emails. In the evening I had a massage and went into the garden to reground myself. Went up to Takoma on Saturday to teach, circling immediately back into the rhythm of home.
The photo montage below gives an idea of the wide variety and quantity of input into mind and senses. There was actually much quiet time in this whirlwind. I spent all the time on the train listening to teleseminars, studying, writing in my journal, watching the scenery, contemplating, and napping. More important than the quiet space of the train rides, every day of the trip, I sat, as I do each day wherever I am, for meditation morning and evening. While on the road, my meditation gave me a space that was home; when I came home, it helped get me settled and able to carry forward the openings and shifts from going on vacation into my at home routine.
A steady practice gives us a still point, a space that stays steady and nourishing. The more consistent we are, the easier it is to access this space (hridaya), no matter how much life seems to whirl and spiral around us.
Photos are in order of travel: Manhattan, Upstate New York, Vermont, Anusara Grand Gathering, Old Westbury Gardens, points on route, and back home with offerings from the garden on my kitchen counter (welcome home).
