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Meditate Lovingly

ByElizabeth

I started out tonight’s group yoga practice saying that I’d been listening again to the recorded conference calls in Claudia Welch and Cate Stillman’s “Healthier Hormones” course, which while presenting very simple aspects of much more complex systems of thought and practice, I think gives valuable perspective on living with awareness and self care.  In the first call, Dr. Claudia tells a story of teacher who told her that she should meditate lovingly.  Dr. Claudia suggested that practicing just out of a sense of obligation wouldn’t have the same benefits as if you went to it and did it lovingly; and, as a physical matter, you wouldn’t get the same positive hormonal benefits.

During my intense workday trying to meet a major deadline, I thought both of the intention to make everything one does a meditation and this exhortation to meditate lovingly and decided to have combining the two be my practice for the day.  I’d draft an email or get on the phone or edit documents and say to myself, “lovingly, lovingly.”  I thought, as I contemplated what needed to be said and done, “lovingly” doesn’t mean never tough love.  Doesn’t mean passive acceptance or false praise.  Doesn’t mean anything crossing appropriate work place boundaries.  But the action always done lovingly.  With spacious awareness. Illuminated consciousness.  However you might describe that lovingly place.  Saying the word periodically during the day as if it were japa or mantra made this day better.  More loving for me; probably better for all the people with whom I had to engage on a fairly unpleasant and monstrously complicated task.

I sent the big email to my boss at 6:30 and got off the phone with him at 6:58, when the yogis arrived.  As I ended the call with my boss, I said I’d be done with yoga at 8:30 and would leave my computer on, and I would be available then.  Practice was sweet–standing poses and hip openers to get ready for more snow.  We’d were shifting into our first restorative and the phone rang.

8:04pm. The answering machine picked up and my boss began leaving a message.  I’m leading yoga practice.  Boss calling while leading yoga practice not good.

Lovingly.

I decided that it would be better overall not to wait until practice was over to return the call.  I asked one of my fellow yogis to lead the others in the next pose (the delicious and simple restorative of lying with a rolled up blanket cross-wise under the back right under the shoulder blades to give the heart a lift and to provide a counter balance to the shape of sitting at a computer).

I reminded myself what we’d been talking about as the focus of practice; “lovingly,” I said to myself, the lovingly being about how to complete the task at hand, not specific to the individual. I called back my boss.  He just couldn’t wait to call until 8:30; he was anxious about the impending snow storm and its impact on our being able to get things done and he wanted to be done and home, too.  I’d left my glasses in the studio and couldn’t see the computer well enough to work, so I went looking for them.  When I went in, expressing my chagrin, the yogis said they were enjoying listening to the conversation (while they were happily in their poses).  I decided to believe them. When my boss apologized, I replied, “it’s ok; my students assured me that they enjoyed listening.” I am grateful and delighted to practice with such gracious friends, that I could say it truly.

Then we wound up the practice with supported half shoulder stand, followed by a twist and savasana.

Lovingly.

Hard work that lovingly thing sometimes, but I think it might be an efficacious conscious practice for a while for me.

Feel free to remind me if it seems like I’m forgetting. But lovingly.

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    “First principle” (and akrama and krama)

    ByElizabeth

    When I think about the Anusara alignment principles in the context of the tattvas (see earlier posts), I think about “opening to grace” appearing in two places on the tier.  As “first principle” it is the first among a larger sequence about how we come to the mat, rather than just the first of the physical principles.  “First principle” not only starts the practice and the dialogue, but is already there. It is, in this sense, so fundamental that it is not part of the sequence, but is sequenceless (akrama).  If you are fully conscious of “grace” and can embody it in all aspects of your physical, energetic, and mental day to day existence without further instruction, study, or practice, then there is no need for other practice or instruction (this I think is a very rare being, and certainly I’m not such a being).

    The next set of tattvas — suddha vidya, ishvara, saddha shiva, and shiva-shakti (see link above), correspond to the Anusara alignment principles of “attitude, alignment, and action,” which although they are themselves described in sequence, are fundamentally sequenceless as they happen all at the same time and are more elemental than the practice of the physical/energetic alignment principles in sequenced practice.

    In this way of understanding the play between the sequenceless and sequenced, we have a universal “first principle” that embodies the purpose of all we do on and off the mat.  It is followed by how we want to practice, described in a way that becomes less of just a concept (which as a universal concept is akrama) and more of a practical understanding (which applies when we are in space and time and therefore in the krama of embodied existence).  As we dance in this play between the sequenceless and the sequenced, we come to practice (or to do any activity) with the “attitude” of wanting to live the “first principle,” to know and experience what is fully present and not bound by time and space.  We then (because we must) study and practice specific “alignment” to try and express this attitude with our “actions.”

    The physical/energetic alignment principles then come in as a the way of better refining, studying, and practicing the desire to recognize with mind and body the “first principle.”  The sequence of “open to grace, muscular energy, inner spiral, outer spiral, organic energy” comes then at the level of physical and mental practice to return us back to “first principle.”  “Open to grace” is first in this sequence, too, but as “first principle,” for me, it is something more than the first of the alignment principles.  “First principle” is not just the start of how we practice when we practice Anusara yoga, but the whole reason for practice.  It is the universal, overarching, blissful element of being that draws us to the practice because of our yearning to know it.

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    What Does It Mean to Be Yogic? (and “The New York Times Article”)

    ByElizabeth

    This weekend, a friend whose marriage of decades is precipitating towards dissolution, said to me, “I am having trouble reconciling being yogic and still needing to do what I need to do in connection with divorce.  How do I deal with that?”  I told her about a yoga principle I learned at the first Inner Harmony Retreat I attended with John Friend in the summer of 2003.  He had asked a student a question that yielded as the answer the four yoga principles of ardha (physical and material well-being), kama (relationship, including intimate and love relationships), dharma (life path or work), and moksha (liberation or freedom).  The fellow student answering the question, who was also my teacher, gave the classic yoga explanation that we try to do the first three elements in alignment so that we can then transcend and go beyond them to become free (enlightened).  John replied that was the traditionally correct answer in dualist, classical yoga, but that from the tantric perspective of a person living in the world as a yogi, we look apply the principles differently.  By living in a way that we have taken care of our physical and material well-being, have happy and loving relationships, and work with delight and passion that we will be embodying a life of the spirit; we will then be living and embodying freedom (jivanmukti).  That encapsulation of tantric yoga resonated deeply and is a significant part of why I have chosen a path of tantric yoga rather than one that preaches renouncing the body and mind (which I think is impossible for one staying in the world).

    My friend’s question seemed especially significant to me in light of the dialogue that has ensued following the publication of the New York Times article on John Friend, John’s blog in response, and the Elephant Journal interview.  The essence of the article and the reactions, to me, seem to be about the intersection of our “outer” notions of societal success–fame and fortune–and yoga and whether the two can be reconciled.  The New York Times article is obviously intended to be sensational and to create controversy; that is what makes a journalist who gets fame and fortune.  But the alleged tension highlighted in the article is indicative of a bigger societal confusion of how and whether we can be spiritual or religious beings and also have human needs and wants.  Ours is a society that hungers for panaceas and palliatives.  In “discovering” yoga and its benefits in the late 20th century, far too many have put onto it expectations that have no basis in what is yoga and how it is supposed to aid us.

    There is no word in yoga philosophy or in India for “yogic.”  The word “yogic” is a western creation of relatively recent vintage.  Webster’s dictionary does not have it as a separate word, but just has it at the end of the definition of “yoga” as “adj, often capitalized.” What do we mean by being “yogic?”  It seems that we have gotten this notion that if we practice yoga seriously or teach it, that means we must be perfectly pure and good.  We will need only light and air to nourish our bodies (and maybe a little local raw food in season); we will have neither needs nor desires; we will be so suffused with peace, compassion, and equanimity, that we never feel or show anger or grief, even in the face of injustice, violence, pain, or outrageous behavior.  We expect that somehow we will be a perfect monk while still living with family and going to work.

    We expect this not only of ourselves, but even more so of our teachers.  In essence, we somehow expect yoga to release us from the realities of being human.  To have such expectations inevitably will lead to disappointment in ourselves and our teachers (for being unable to reach this impossible ideal) or in the practice (both for not yielding this ideal and for, in our delusion, creating this expectation in the first place).  My meditation and philosophy teacher Paul Muller-Ortega would say that to have such expectations is “adolescent” spirituality.  When we practice “adult” spirituality, we take responsibility for ourselves and our own practice.  We expect our teachers to offer us the teachings, but we honor and recognize them as human beings.

    To practice yoga sincerely while still living in the world should make us more humane to ourselves and to all around us, not beyond being human.  This is the true essence of Anusara yoga.  To be richly and freely and wonderfully human and feel great love and compassion for that, even as we balance the realities of life with attempts to live in greater alignment.   I am incredibly grateful for the teachings and the community that John Friend has created and the offering to study and get as deeply into the yoga as makes sense for me.  Whether there are things I might do differently in the realm of ardha, kama, or dharma if I were “the yoga mogul” is of little moment because to find moksha we all strive to do our best in our own way (and one thing I know of John is that he always strives to do his best).

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