Found Exhortation
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Adjusting to the Time Change (and the gunas)
My first reaction to the switch to Daylight Savings Time this early, I admit, was to protest and whine, but still to force myself into the new schedule. This is a great example of tamas (the protesting and complaining without doing anything productive) and rajas (the forcing myself into the routine) being out of balance. This resulted in my feeling both sluggish and edgy at times during the day.
By stepping back and observing that the feeling of being out of balance could be related to the time change, as well as the erratic weather, I was beginning to bring the elements back into balance, allowing rajas in the form of mental discrimination to bring me to a place where I could take action.
Last night I practiced seated forward bends andchandra bhedana (alternate nostril breathing, in breath through the left nostril — the moon side — and breathing out the right nostril). I went to bed at my regular time and slept sweetly. This morning, it was still hard to get up in the dark, but before meditating, I practiced kapala bhati (skull shining breath) and surya bhedana (alternate nostril breathing, with the in breath through the right nostril — the sun side — and the out breath through the left nostril) in the morning to bring in light and energy. I now feel energized and light and ready to face a long work day.
By practicing in this way I used rajas, as will, knowledge, and determination, not to force myself to get through the imbalance, but rather to try and balance my energy. Tamas predominated at bedtime where it was in balance, and the rajas needed to get out of bed with the alarm led me to my seat for pranayama and meditation without forcing.
Better!
“Inspiration Cards”
I adore having a library and will rarely say no to a philosophy text or a book about anatomy, therapeutics, or yoga methodology. I am less interested in “self help” types of books or gadgets. Every once and a while though, I come across something that truly supports my practice and my teaching. When I first went to Inner Harmony to study with John Friend in mid-2003, there was an altar in the corner of the practice room, just at the entrance. On the altar was a set of cards (a little smaller than 2″x2″). Each card had a word in English, the devanagari, and the sanskrit of the word transliterated into our alphabet. Following the lead of others who had been to Inner Harmony for previous retreats, at the beginning of the day, I would select a card and think about how the word on the card might inform my practice and intention.
At that time, I was first starting to use Anusara’s “heart-oriented posturing language,” using a theme for class that was designed to lead the students into a deeper place in their hearts through their asana practice, and I found that the cards were an excellent source of inspiration.
Even though I first bought the cards in 2003 to serve as a basic class preparation aid, I have continued to use them regularly for my own practice and contemplation. Often, the word that appears resonates with something that is of immediate concern. The day after Becky (my beloved cat who lived to be 21) left her body last year, I went to the set of cards, which I’d not used in a couple of months. The card that I selected at random (like picking a card from a deck when someone is showing you card tricks) was moksha — liberation, and in classic yoga, literally liberation from the body. I was moved to tears.
This summer, with myself and my students, we have been working on manifesting intention. As I’ve blogged about previously, I invited us to think about an intention. Whether an intention is something basic with the body or mind or something more universal, whenever we seek to manifest an intention, ultimately it is because we want to be more blissful, more open, and more at peace with ourselves and others. The question becomes how do we use our practice both to discover an intention and to seek to make it manifest. To help me with the contemplation of this question, I have gone again to the cards as a source of inspiration. This week, the card that turned itself up was racanatmakata — creativity. “Perfect,” I thought, when I saw the word. Creativity is a human reflection of the wild, pulsing, diverse and ever-extraordinary dance of all being. When we open to our creative impulse to allow things to unfold, we can witness the fullest range of possibilities and the variety of paths to manifestation.
Yoga for Householders
Paul Muller-Ortega, who teaches philosophy and meditation from similar roots to those that inform Anusara yoga, spoke yesterday of the differences between the path of the renunciate and the path of the householder. He strongly stated that neither path was better. What he suggested, though, was that a householder will better flourish practicing yoga designed for the householder rather than attempting to practice renunciate techniques, while still staying in the householder path.
What does this mean? I think it means that we become unhappy and conflicted if we try attempt the practices of the path of complete non-attachment and transcendence of body and mind while we are still very much staying in society and responsible for family, work, and citizenship. The tantric, householder path, including that of the Shaivite tradition of Kashmir and Abhinavagupta, offers practices that enable one to live liberated in society, instead of suggesting that the only way to true liberation is to reject and transcend work, family, and community. In yoga terms, the householder path is one that realizes moksha (liberation), through ardha (physical and material well-being), kama (love/relationship), and dharma (right work/path) rather than by transcending them.
Taking the householder path does not mean just indulging. It still requires sensitivity, dedication, discrimination, and alignment. I think it may be even harder than renunciation. I know it is easier for me to just stay alone and practice, for example, than to bring yoga off my mat to how I work, consume, relate to others, and participate in society. The householder path, though, is the one for me.
“Stabilize the Periphery; Move from the Core” (and blogging)
For the past week, I have been contemplating, practicing with, and teaching the axiomatic sequenced alignment principle of Anusara yoga “stabilize the periphery; move from the core.” It means exactly what it says. We stabilize the outer edges of the pose (feet, hands, head) and move from our core to get into the full expression of the pose. For example, have you noticed how often the yoga teacher will have you put your hand on your hip when you are first in a standing pose and working the alignment of the foundation and core body? Only when the central alignment has been reached, do you extend the arm and hand to complete the full form of the pose. The reason Anusara teachers are taught to use this technique is that it stabilizes the periphery, so that the students can concentrate on the major alignment and then move from the core.
Off the mat, this principle means to me that we start with our overall goals and needs and the essential principle of trying to move from and respond in the highest before getting distracted by the details of whatever is going on. As I contemplated and taught the principle this week, I found myself thinking and talking about lots of different examples on and off the mat. The central idea was there, and then as the classes progressed, depending on the level and the students, I wove in illustrative examples that made sense with what was happening in the classes.
I found myself struggling, though, to write about this principle. I had too many different things I wanted to explain about how it helps in yoga asana both as an important therapeutic practice and as a way to expand one’s core abilities. A plethora of examples of how it works off the mat came to mind. To write coherently when one has limited space/attention span of reader/number of words, one has to first stop getting into the details and start with the central theme. Then it is necessary to flesh out the central theme with very select details that enhance the understanding of the central premise. The writer chooses not to scatter the central theme into so many details that the central point is obscured or lost in the details. My struggle to write about this principle served then as a perfect example to myself about the very principle about which I was choosing to write. I needed to “stabilize” the details, so that I could express coherently the core principle.
Do you have good examples of how applying this principle has helped you on or off the mat?
