The yoga of connecting; simple is enough

Hello dear readers,

Technically a blog has no obligation, but every time my life gets away from me and keeps me away from my blog, I always feel the need to apologise! So readers, I'm sorry for the long absence from this space, and I'll do my best to keep the posts coming for the next little while.

True to my gypsy name, I am traveling at the moment, this time a long work trip that will keep me away from home for 3 months. I'm once again visiting the half-island nation of East Timor - long time readers will remember that I used to live here. It seems that my fate is entwined with this place, for life keeps drawing me back. With a whole world out there, incredibly I am sitting in an office that is only a few doors away from the very first office I sat in 9 years ago when I first came here. Perhaps some places are truly magnetic to our souls, or there is some karma that I have with this place that I have yet to work through.

Morning commute ;)

This time I have the wonderful opportunity to be spending most of my working hours traveling around the country and talking to local people. I will be on the road a lot and my yoga physical yoga practice will most certainly suffer from it, but there are other kinds of yoga. The yoga of connecting to people is one that we so often neglect. The yoga of getting to know other human beings, of asking for their perspectives and listening to what they have to say. We get so engrossed in our personal practice that we forget that the real practice is how we live our lives, minute by minute, day-by day.


Being back at a desk job is also a shift for me. Gone are the long, leisurely morning practices that I have had over the past few months. Now, I am rising in the hot, humid darkness, stepping on my mat still half asleep, swatting mosquitoes. Every step between bed and the mat is a struggle with myself, trying to keep the fire of tapas, discipline, burning long enough to get me to the first breath. But once I am there, everything flows. One breath turns into another and before long a thin sheen of sweat has sprung to my skin, and my body moves into life.

These mornings feel like a homecoming, an echo of years worth of morning practices. To do them (and still be at the office by 8am!), I have stripped back my practice to the basics, trying to get the most out of my limited time on the mat, and it has surprised me how well this simplified practice "fits." It's as if I have stripped away everything that was not serving me, and am left with a practice where every breath, every asana, meets a need. Nothing is extra, no energy is wasted, no thoughts or emotions flung into attachment to "goal poses" or the length of my practice. The reward: I am calm, focused, and (I think!) pleasant to be around. I can go about my day of listening to people with ease and relaxation. I notice a huge increase in my productivity at work on the mornings I do yoga, and a huge loss of focus on the mornings when I trade my practice for an extra hour of sleep. It's nice to be reminded of the transformative power of a simple practice and to remember, in the midst of our complicated lives, that simple is enough.

Dear readers, I promise shortly a return to our regular programming, with some highlights from trips around East Timor thrown in as a bonus.

For now, go on, get on your mats - or get off them - and see what happens. :)

Unpacking Karma: a (badly) illustrated philosophy lesson

 If there is any sanskrit word that has become completely mainstream in western culture (other than yoga, of course!) it's probably karma. We use it in everyday conversation and we think that we know what it means. We interpret karma as an invisible force that ensures that "what goes around comes around:" Like, if you throw your gum on the street and then the next week you step on gum - karma, right? We tend to see Karma as some type of avenging angel who will mete out justice to those who have done us wrong, or we believe that karma somehow explains why bad things happen to people: "you get served what you deserve."

Once you start on the yoga path, however, it's useful to back away from our Hollywood appropriation of Karma as a stiletto-wearing-bad-girl-avenger type, and dig a little deeper to understand how yoga and karma are linked together. To help with this, I've created some little drawings, which if nothing else clarify that I do NOT have the karma of an artist. :)


What is karma?

Karma in sanskrit means action.  At the most basic level then, our karma is simply the sum of our actions, thoughts and words. And like any moment in time, our thoughts/actions/words don't exist in isolation, but they build upon what we have already done/thought/said, and play a role in creating our future thoughts/actions/words. In modern behavioural science, we call this habit formation, and it's an essential part of being a human being - on a basic level we use our talent for habit formation to learn language (associating words with objects or feelings), remember people's names, pick up essential motor skills like walking, or learn how to do new things, like swimming or standing on one leg.

In yoga philosophy, every action leaves an imprint, like an echo or a small seed planted as a result of this thought/word/action. These imprints are called samskaras, and they accumulate in our subconscious. The more we repeat a particular type of thought/word/action, the more seeds are sown, and similar seeds group together to become clusters. These are called vasanas, and as you might imagine, the bigger the cluster, the more ingrained the habit.

These patterns begin forming from the time we are just infants. As children we are not born into a neutral environment: we are born into a family, a place, a culture, and the karma of the world around us begins to imprint on us from a very early age. As we grow up, we emulate the actions/thoughts/behaviours that we see around us, thus planting the first seeds and starting the accumulation of samskaras.  In traditional philosophy, we are also born with vasanas that we have inherited from our previous incarnations, and we take them with us into the next incarnation.



You are creating your karma every day

The key thing to understand is that karma is not some scales-and-balances system, with all the vasanas waiting passively around to be weighed out on a final judgement day. The cycle of karma is an active, ongoing, day-to-day process. Our samskaras and vasanas manifest in our daily lives as subconscious desires, and around these desires we form habits that, over time, become deeply engrained patterns. As we act out these patterns over and over, the vasanas grow and become like powerful magnets: we become subconsciously attracted to people or actions of the same nature, and go around the wheel again. The bigger the cluster, the more powerful the attraction. As the saying goes, "like attracts like." The vasanas are so powerful that they become compulsions: we think we are making choices, but in fact our lives are being directed by our subconscious impulses.

It's important not to immediately attribute judgement to this picture. Some of our vasanas are our highest qualities, and these increase our joyfulness. But we also have vasanas that manifest in ways that make us unhappy, too. Have you ever found yourself emotionally over-reacting to something small, and taking it out on others? Do you make poor choices and then wonder "why did I choose that?" Have you ever mused to yourself "why do I always do this to myself or to others around me?" Do you freeze when you wish you had acted, or act impulsively and then wish you had not? Do you constantly revisit a choice you made and hold on to regret or bitterness about that situation? These are some of the symptoms of vasanas that are NOT serving you. When these vasanas hijack our choices and our relationships, it causes us suffering. This is samsara - being stuck in the endless wheel of karma, hostage to our own subconscious.

Anyone who has dealt with addiction (theirs or someone else's) can probably relate to this. Or, just watch any soap opera ever made!




Yoga helps us become aware of our karma

There are two things that are important here. One is to understand that our "karmic" addictions here are not just physical, but they are mental, behavioural and emotional patterns as well. The second is that karma is not an external force striking blows for or against us: we actively create our karma every day, through our thoughts, our actions and our words. This is fantastic news, because it means that by changing our words/actions/thoughts, we can sow new seeds, and grow new clusters, and create new magnetic forces that attract happiness instead of suffering. But of course, first we have to become AWARE of our subconscious habits, which is trickier than it sounds.

This is where yoga comes in. The practice of yoga is the practice of self-awareness. What we are learning through yoga is to observe ourselves so that we can become aware of our vasanas, our deeply rooted patterns. What we encounter on the yoga mat is ourselves: our thoughts, our emotions and our reactions to our practice are a mirror for our everyday lives. We seek to become aware of ourselves so that we may  transform our thoughts, actions and words, and create new habits, new patterns, that don't cause us pain.

The eight limbs of yoga are a roadmap for this transformation, with the ultimate aim being liberation, moksha, to free ourselves from the wheel of karma and from the compulsions of the subconscious. To be self-realised is to be mindful of our every action, thought and word, allowing us to create our own destiny.

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Readers, was this interpretation of karma useful to you? Has your yoga practice helped you let go of any habits or break out of any patterns? I'd love to hear about it!

10 ways to incorporate yoga philosophy into your teaching or practice

Last week or thereabouts, I wrote about my dissatisfaction with the way that I teach yoga as a mainly asana-centred discipline, and haven't really found a good balance of also imparting the philosophy of yoga. (NOT as a religious discipline, as discussed in this post about why yoga is not a religion.)

The post generated a lot of comments, and made me think, a lot, about how to practically incorporate more philosophy into your average asana class. This is a mish-mash of my own ideas, and commenters' suggestions - I can no longer really remember who said what, but if you'd like to take credit for your ideas, feel free to leave a comment!

10 practical ways to incorporate yoga philosophy into your teaching (or your practice)

1. Speak from the heart, and don't be afraid!  Talk only about things that resonate deeply with you. Don't just throw in a bunch of waffle because you feel you have to - if it doesn't resonate with you, it won't resonate with your students, either.  If you are among those who believe that yoga is more than just asana, know that you are not alone! Take the plunge, and know that you are doing exactly what you are meant to be doing. :)
2. Tell stories that people can relate to. Tell a story from your own experience, something you learned, or relate a philosophy concept to something everyday. Yoga philosophy is about life off the mat, and this is a nice way to get people thinking about how to apply it to their lives. The best stories often come from our own questions or mistakes, and it lets your class know that you are just a person struggling with it all, too.
3. Use the yoga sutras as a class theme or as the basis for a pre- or post-class discussion. Take a few minutes before or after the asana practice to have students sitting quietly with their breath, and during those moments, talk briefly through a point in the yoga sutras and allow students to meditate on that concept. If it's your style, weave the theme from beginning, throughout the asana practice, all the way to closing.  There are so many interesting sutras to choose from, you could probably do this for years without ever getting stuck for new material! Possibly best to avoid the ones about levitating, though. ;)
4. Go back to the basics. Ideas like concentration, gaze, focusing on your breath, listening to your body - these may seem like a given if you've been doing yoga for a while, but for new students the simple things are still new. Don't underestimate the power of going over the simple concepts again and again, even if it's just a mention of how asana is only one part of an eight-limbed practice.
5. Use concepts from yoga philosophy as the basis for guided meditations. For example, the koshas (sheaths), yamas (restraints), niyamas (actions), prakriti/purusha (ego/true self), moksha (freedom), or other concepts. The koshas work particularly well here, but really, you could script a guided meditation around almost anything.
6. Market your yoga classes as "asana with a bit of philosophy". Errr, ok, it might need to sound a bit cooler than that. "Roots of yoga?" "Deepen your practice?" Anyway, offer an asana practice with a slightly longer discussion / philosophy time built on. Or, if you are a sequencing genious, sequence the asanas around the philosophy somehow.  You could do something similar with pranayama.
7. Hold an "introduction to yoga philosophy" session, or regular weekly discussions of yoga philosophy.  Just go for it! Talk to your studio / coffeeshop / wherever about hosting a brief philosophy talk. Make it donation-based, bring cookies, and encourage lots of discussions and questions. Or make it a workshop and get people to actively come up with their own interpretations of things like the yamas and the niyamas.
8. Keep it non-denominational. Yoga as a philosophy embraces all possibilities and can be accessible to people of all faiths. Since you don't know if your students are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Atheist, Pagan, Hindu or any other religious inclination, don't alienate people by speaking from a religious perspective. Always offer non-denominational alternatives so people of all beliefs feel welcome.
9. Yoga is about self-exploration: empower people to think for themselves! Don't try to tell people what to think or what to do. Use yoga philosophy as a point for discussion and to stimulate thoughts, not as a soap-box. So, instead of saying "ahimsa tells us that to truly practice yoga you have to be vegetarian", say, "ahimsa is about not doing harm with your speech or your actions, think of a few ways hat you could integrate this idea into your life on or off the mat". Empower people to choose for themselves if and how they want to interpret the philosophical teachings into their lives.
10. Relate it to science. Science is something that most people nowadays, at least those with a modern education, relate to on a very fundamental level. The Dalai Lama has written a whole book on how Buddhist philosophy (very similar to yoga philosophy in many aspects) and modern science are converging in astounding ways. The concept of karma - actions creating similar actions - can be related to the new science of neuroplasticity, the concept of interconnectivity ("OM"...) explained in terms of sharing atoms.  There are more and more studies available documenting the benefits of yoga on a scientific level - even some of those that can't quite be explained!

And I guess, one more that goes without saying: always study, always seek to deepen your own knowledge. Read, talk, write, discuss, and most of all, experiment with living your interpretation of yoga philosophy, and continue to deepen your own journey.

Why yoga is not a religion

re·li·gion  
/riˈlijən/

NOUN

1. a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
2. a specific fundamental set of beliefs and practices generally agreed upon by a number of persons or sects.

I am not sure why this continues to be a controversial discussion point, as it is really very clear if you stop to think about the definition of a religion. But in light of my recent post about staying true to the philosophical roots of yoga, and in light of conversations going on elsewhere in the yoga blogsphere, here are 4 reasons that, for me, make it vividly clear that yoga is not a religion.

yo·ga

1. Does not in any way pertain to the cause, nature, or purpose of the Universe, nor does it propose any theories about how it was created. Wait, isn't that what science does?
2. Has no specific or fixed theological perspective. It does not specifically recognise a deity, nor does it deny the existence thereof. It's theological openness means that it cannot BE a religion in itself, but neither does it demand that people are with or without religion - basically, you are free to devote yourself to a superhuman force or being, if that works for you, or you are free to concentrate purely on your inner experience, if that works for you.
3. Does not prescribe one or more fixed paths: it explicitly recognises that different people may take different paths and even proposes many different ways for individuals to try. Much like the scientific process of trial and error, yoga allows us each to find what works for us, and doesn't make any judgements about which way is correct or "better".
4. Emphasises individual practice and experience, not doctrine or belief.  In yoga, it's not enough to hear or to believe - realisations must be experienced. The individual seeker must cultivate understanding based on questioning one's feelings, beliefs, actions and assumptions, and we are free to find answers to those questions from within or from a divine source or scriptures - or to not find answers at all. There are no prescribed findings - only suggested techniques for inquiry. 

So, let's be clear, outrageously ill-informed online dictionaries: Yoga is NOT a "Hindu discipline". It is a discipline which originated in India, yes. So is Buddhism, by the way, and Jainism, and the Beatles' White Album.  It is a discipline in which you are free to be Hindu, Christian, Athiest, Muslim, Jewish, or none of the above, because it is based on the questions, not on the answers.

phi·los·o·phy  

/fəˈläsəfē/

NOUN

1. the study of the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence, esp. when considered as an academic discipline.

Although the yoga tradition can be traced to the Vedantic culture in India circa 3500 BCE (known as the Indus Valley Civilisation), the yoga theory that we know today is mainly based on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, which were written around 200 CE. Don't get fooled by the sanskrit name! As discussed above, the Yoga Sutras don't set out any theological principles. Rather, they outline a philosophical problem, and propose a solution. It goes sort of like this:

• The human experience is characterised by discomfort and suffering. We just aren't happy, which is a bummer.
• The good news is that this suffering is kind of like seeing the glass half empty: if we are able to overcome the confused states of the mind (the citta-vrtti-nirodhah) that cause us to dwell in suffering, we can shift our perspective and alleviate our predicament.  It's like that scene in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, where Little John thinks he's drowning and yields to Robin, who then "saves" him by telling him to simply stand up - he was so overwhelmed by the fear of drowning, that he nearly drowned in water he could actually stand in.
• There are two fundamental states in the human experience, prakriti, the "seen", i.e. the ego-self that is basically completely self-obsessed (and likely to drown in misunderstanding), and purusha, the "seer", or the higher self / true self / inner self, that is able to inquire deeply and see things the way they really are (for example, that the water is not actually that deep).
• People are unhappy because we over-identify with the ego: we live constantly chasing the desires and fluctuations of the ego, chained to the idea that one day, achieving all these desires will "make us happy".
• Being obsessed with the ego, the true self becomes suppressed, neglected, and forgotten. We subsume the desires of the true self to those of the ego-self, like in a co-dependent relationship, instead of creating a healthy, balanced relationship by nourishing both parts of ourself.
• When we are living from the ego-self, we act in misguided ways, pursuing self-gratification, bouncing between the extremes of clinging to some things and despising others, and living in a desperate desire to hold onto life. We think that these actions will make us happy, but instead, our unwise thoughts, actions and words plant the seeds of themselves, and lead to more unwise actions, in a vicious cycle.
• However, if we cultivate things that make our true self happy, if we instead plant different seeds, we can transform our experience, because those seeds will grow and take root instead, and lead to more actions, thoughts and words that make us happy, until eventually they no longer require effort, but become effortless. (Science nuts, see neuroplasticity and habit formation).
• Yoga proposes the yamas (restraints) and the niyamas (constructive actions) to help guide us towards these positive actions, and away from the misguided or ego-centric ones.
• To help "awaken" or "liberate" our mind (so that it can realise that the water is actually shallow), yoga proposes a variety of techniques including awakening and focusing the energy the body (asana), breath-work (pranayama), concentration (pratyahara), and meditation (dharana, dhyana, and samadhi). Together with the yamas and niyamas, these form the solution to the problem of our self-percieved suffering.
• Even when you have attained this 'liberated' state, the world continues to be as it is, and you continue to be in the world. You don't evaporate in a puff of smoke or rise up to sit on a luminous cloud. Only your suffering dissolves. You cease to be "tied down" by what your mind believes is real, and you become 'liberated' from the constraints of a limited (ego-bound) perspective. And that is what happiness is - freedom from our own imaginary limitations, by recognising that we are more than our ego-experience.

So, yoga is not a religion. 

Yoga is a TECHNIQUE to reduce our experience of suffering, based on a philosophy about the nature of the human condition.

The technique can be applied against any theological or a-theological background. The only fundamental assumption is that every individual has the ability to reach a state where they are happy and free.

How I Help Perpetuate The Modern Yoga Narrative

Someone marvellous shared this funny little graphic on Facebook, and it made me laugh out loud. Which is it's own form of yoga, by the way.  It also made me think, on a deeper level, about that question of why we go to yoga, and how what was once an exclusive and sacred (not necessarily good things) discipline of spiritual seeking has become boiled down in our minds to one word: "flexible".  Whence this post....

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Now that yoga is fantastically popularised and pretty much mainstream, the average modern yoga student probably isn't familiar with the roots of yoga, beyond knowing that it originated in India a long time ago (like, when movies where still in black and white? ;) ). Many probably remember from their parents' generation of yoga that it had some kind of a spiritual component, but our generation doesn't like having "foreign" spiritual ideas thrown at us when we go to a public space. We prefer billboards, commercials and glossy magazines telling us what the world is all about, thanks, telling us what to value, and what we are worth. We fervently defend our right to not to learn about alternative philosophies unless we deliberately choose to (it's such a chore), as opposed to considering it our right (duty) to deeply examine the many facets of an issue before making a decision. No, we prefer to make decisions first, generally in the time it takes to "like" something on facebook, and our world rewards us for having the strength of character to simplify life into clear-cut dichotomies upon which we can make snap decisions and express strong opinions. (Is it any wonder politics is f$^@#*ed??)

In any case, I won't be the first or the last writer to comment on the disconnect between the roots of yoga as an integrated practice (mind - body - breath) and the narrative of modern postural yoga. Nor will I be the first or last to conclude that hey, to each their own, and if more people are doing yoga, then great, and there's nothing wrong with just doing asana to stay healthy (or bend yourself into a pretzel, or just feel good) and that being the end of it.

And to be honest with myself, and you, as a yoga teacher I play my own part in perpetuating the dominant narratives about yoga. In my classes, I teach 95% asana and only 5% pranayama. Sometimes I teach "fancy" postures. My cues and explanations focus mainly on the physical body, peppered with frequent reminders to breathe, and smile, and "be present". Most of my students, even my long-term ones, don't know about the koshas, or the doshas, or prakriti and purusha, or moksha, or any of the other fundamental building blocks that shape the yogic worldview.

Yet not only do I know a bit about these concepts, but I relate to them, enjoy thinking and talking about them, and believe they offer a valuable perspective, one that is much needed in the modern world. So why do I help perpetuate the modern yoga narrative in all its bland, asana-focused-ness?

The truth is, I'm lazy. There is only so much time in a yoga class, and I have a cleverly designed sequence to get through, and still leave time for a long savasana.

The truth is, I'm concerned what my students will think. I believe they come to yoga expecting a work-out, and generally a tough one, at that, and I'm afraid that if I don't give it to them, they won't come back, they won't like me.

The truth is, my students paid for an asana class, not a philosophy class, and that's what I feel like I need to give them.

The truth is, I had to sign a contract agreeing not to preach my own personal philosophies during yoga class. Really. I did.  Edited to add: this is fair enough! It would be wrong to use my privileged position as a yoga teacher to tell others what to think or believe. But, where is the line between discussing yoga philosophy and "preaching a personal belief"? Some people are offended at even the use of sanskrit in a yoga class - in any case, it makes me nervous.

The truth is, my own practice is pretty much asana dominated, my meditation and pranayama having somehow slipped out and not quite been put back in.

And so I go, and I teach, and I practice, and I perpetuate the modern yoga narrative, all the while knowing that it doesn't satisfy me.

*It doesn't satisfy me.*

But I smile and stand in front of a class, and perpetuate the narrative, because that is what's expected (obligated?) of me and because that's what I know how to do.

Yet I believe that there is a space in a yoga studio for honest conversation. A space for education that goes beyond the physical. For the exchange of points of view, the discussion of complex concepts that can't be resolved in the time-it-takes-to-click-like-on-facebook.

A space where people are willing, have the courage, are thirsty to go beyond the physical and examine, re-examine, their relationships with themselves and the world. 

I believe in that space - and that I can play a part in creating it. That I must help to create it, each time I step onto the mat.

Readers, what do you think?

On trying without trying to "achieve", setting yourself up to succeed, and never giving up

Sometimes I hear people say: "I've accepted that I will never be able to do that pose", or "that pose is just impossible for me."

In fact, I've probably said exactly those things. I've "embraced my body's shortcomings" or "accepted my limitations" more times than I can count in yoga. I've said things like "well, my arms are just too weak / legs too long / back too crooked to be able to do that pose".

And I thought it was pretty yogic, you know? "Letting go" of my attachment do being able to do a particular pose. "Accepting my body the way it is", with its "too long / too short / too weak / too crooked" limbs or joints or regions.

But it wasn't. Yogic, as in "rooted in and therefore justified by yoga philosophy." I was not being philosophical, I was being escapist. I was not being "enlightened", I was being defeatist.

Because what yoga philosophy really says is: try anyway. Don't worry about what you achieve, or don't achieve. Don't worry about too short / too long / too weak / too crooked. Just try, and then try again tomorrow.

Of course, that is easier said than done, because we are human beings and we want results. Not results next year, but results next week. We want movie-musical-montage kind of progress, where within the space of 2 emotionally stimulating minutes set to a swelling score, we overcome obstacles and achieve the hitherto unachievable. But there's a reason that those scenes are done in a montage, and that is this: the reality is very, very dull. Monotonous even.  There are days, and weeks and months, and probably years in which you don't "achieve" that impossible pose.

But from the philosophical sense, that doesn't matter.  It doesn't matter where you get, or how quickly you get there. What matters is that you DID - because doing is infinitely preferable than restraining from doing.

Now, that doesn't mean getting straight on your mat and attempting headstand in your first week of practice. Or your second. Or your first year. Or your first decade. What it does mean, is keeping an open mind that ONE DAY, you may be able to do headstand. That's all - you don't have to do it, or even consciously work towards it - just don't rule it out. Whether it happens or not is another story, the outcome of which you needn't concern yourself with. Just as long as you never give up on yourself and the potential that lies within you.

You may be quick to point out that this approach has obvious limitations: a person with compressed vertebrae should not be believing that they could do headstand. Or should they? Because you have probably already realised that this philosophy is not really about the physical practice of yoga, but our approach to our everyday lives, our infinite potential in terms of relationships, career, love, life and happiness. The physical practice merely offers us the opportunity to put it into practice every time we get on our mat. Not giving up. Believing in our potential.

So next time you are struggling with an "impossible" pose, say to yourself instead: "this pose would be possible, when..." and identify one, or two, or three things - no matter how small! - that you can work on, that will set you on the path towards that pose, and do those instead. So you are not setting yourself up to fail, but rather, you are setting yourself up to succeed at steps along the way.

For instance, if your impossible pose is handstand (mine was), you might break the pose down into: arm and wrist strength, open hamstrings, and confidence being upside down - and work on those instead.  You might VISUALISE yourself doing the full pose, while integrating into your practice the little steps that might eventually get you there. You might set yourself on the path, and make it about the journey, and not the destination (it will be about the journey, in the end, regardless).

Don't surrender to self-prescribed boundaries of what's impossible. Don't chain yourself to results. Surrender to possibility, and let the outcome surprise you.

(It's alright ma) It's only yoga

It seems that a lot of yoga practitioners feel a sense of pressure to live some kind of extraordinary life.   And when we're not busy feeling pressured to do more, we feel guilty about the things we are doing.  And as if that weren't complicated enough, we then feel longing for the things we aren't doing because we feel pressured or guilty enough not to do them!  I mean, whew, how do any of us even have time for yoga amidst all that?

I mean, isn't yoga supposed to liberate us from all that jazz?  All those chitta vritti (cheeky monkey?) thoughts that keep pestering at our brains like buzzing mosquitoes, homing in to attack us, all those doubts and ideals and, well, all of that?  After all, we are in this to find calming thoughts, centeredness, groundedness, self-awareness, self-confidence, cures for our illnesses and hopefully a bit of muscle tone to boot.  In short, we are in search of perfection.  Through Yoga.  Right?

Ah.  Is that what it comes down to?  Are we so convinced that somewhere out there, there is One Thing that will make us happy, that we are willing to give Yoga it's 5 minutes of fame to see if it does the trick? Nope?  Oh well, back to money, fame, fortune, weight loss or whatever else is on the list.

Sarcasm aside, my teacher taught me about renunciation.  When we look at yoga philosophy, we encounter notions like Ahimsa, non-harming, and Aparigraha, non-grasping / moderation.  Our first reaction is to immediately pounce on the material implications of these yamas, or restraints.  So, we practice Ahimsa by giving up eating meat because it harms animals.  We practice Aparigraha by giving up potato chips, or that pair of jeans you've been wanting.  Or we tell ourselves we didn't really want it anyway, because that wouldn't be yogic, right?

So our immediate reactions to the yamas are reactions of renunciation.  Giving things up is long acclaimed in our culture.  I mean, nobody loves a good martyr like we do (ok, well maybe some people do, but anyway, the point being, we love a good martyr like anybody!)

But, my teacher reminds us, the second Yama is Satya, or truthfulness.  And these types of renunciation which are accompanied by a sense of sacrifice, which are done because of an expectation of the result of the action or done because of how the outside world will perceive them, are not in line with Satya.

The difference is choice, and how you embrace it.  When we give something up, we go into it with the mentality that we are sacrificing something in order to attain something else.  Meat or jeans for yogic goodness.  Etc.  But according to my teacher, if you spend every day wishing you could eat meat, or have chips, or wear those jeans, then you are not living your satya, not living truthfully to yourself.

He believes that somewhere along the line, as you gradually reconnect with your true self, non-harming and moderation become things that become natural to you.  Instead of renouncing material goods in hopes of winning brownie points, you will reach a point where you truly no longer want to buy more things.  Instead of giving up eating junk food because you think you're supposed to, you just stop buying it out of a real desire to feed your body non-processed food.  Instead of wishing you could have those jeans, you become deeply disgusted with consumerism and the inequality of sweat shop labour.  In short, you live your yamas because they feel right, not because you have a desire to Be Right.  And when you do this, negative emotions like guilt, jealousy, and martyrdom will fall by the wayside, because you will be living in balance with yourself.

I feel the same way about the physical practice of Yoga.  Today while I was on my mat, I was practicing away, wondering how long I should practice, and what, and thinking how I wish I practiced more, and all kinds of other things, and then it slowly crept into my head... you know what?  It doesn't matter.  It's only Yoga!

I know - Gasp.  Right?  But there it is.  It's not life or death, it's not family, it's not love, it's not any of the things that really and truly I can't survive without.  It's not how I want to measure myself or define myself.  I am not the successes or the limitations of my body.  I am not my practice.  I am not my asana, pranayama, pratyahara or the rest of it.  Yes, I love my practice, and  yes, it makes me feel good.  But it's not the be all and end all of my day.  It's not how I feed myself or what keeps me warm at night.  It's only a body on a smelly mat.  It's only Yoga.   And that is liberating.

You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you

A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to

Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to

(From Bob Dylan's "It's alright Ma (I'm only bleeding) )

Choosing Peace

It's been a hectic week and my blog has been neglected. It's amazing how quickly my time is consumed and my brain is drained when I am working full-time! If I ever need re-affirmation that a part time life is for me, this would do it.

Part of the week has been stressful contract negotiations. Ick, right? It's ironic because it's taken me nearly 3 weeks to negotiate the terms of a 3 week job! Finally on Tuesday (2 days after the job started) I just gave in and signed the thing. And moved on.

It reminded me that life in the real world doesn't just do what you please. It does what it pleases and you just have to deal. But no matter how much things seem out of your control, we always have one thing: choices.

No matter what, we make choices every second. If I see a situation as a burden, that's a choice. If I react to someone with anger instead of patience, that's a choice. If I choose not to deal with an issue, that's also a choice.

In this case, I chose to let go. Which more often than not, is the best choice for me. Not happy with the contract but accepted it anyway? Let it go. Not looking forward to the job? Let it go. Not sure how to handle a personal situation? Let it go. Just breathe. Just believe that it will be ok in the end, that when the time is right, the right thing will happen.

In a nutshell - choose peace. As the Dalai Lama said: "Learning to live is learning to let go."

Namaste and have a great long weekend everyone! I will be in my hammock in a bamboo hut in an eco-village on a very remote island and will have no access to the internet whatsoever. Namaste to that!

The Gift of Embodiment: Part I

My last post, as well as a few other things in the blogosphere (LOVE that word!) of late, got me thinking. In particular, thinking about the body and our relationship to it. There are a lot of bloggers who reflect on the way that we, and women in particular, struggle to accept and love our bodies in the face of a culture that worships appearances and an idealised physical form. One amazing woman who blogs regularly and movingly about this is psychotherapist and Yoga Teacher Teresa over at My Embodiment. Another is Suburban Yogini, who did a recent interview with Bliss Chick, another body image warrior. And Brenda from Grounding Through the Sit Bones did some reflection on role modeling in the yoga community in this post a few weeks back.

I think at sometime or other, we all suffer from thoughts about our body image. As a thin woman, I wanted to be busty. Curvy women long to be thin. Our male friends want to be thin but buff, my asian friends want to be whiter, my white friends wish to be darker and so the list goes on! Interestingly (for me), the wealthier the society in general, the more overwhelming these issues seem to be. Maybe it's the inundation of advertising and media that accompany wealth, celebrating body-stereotypes and obsessing over appearances. Probably we just have too many mirrors in our home and too much time on our hands. Maybe it's more than that - maybe some of us try to compensate for our extremely privileged material lives by making ourselves suffer from the inside. I think I fell into this latter category in my own teenage years.

The truth is, everyone suffers. Everyone who is born into a body will experience suffering in their lifetime. For the majority of people in the world this suffering is part of the daily struggle to survive against the obstacles of hunger, illness, poverty, and lack of choices. But even we, the most privileged people on the planet, cannot evade pain, grief, and fear. The only way never to suffer is not to be born. But sometimes it seems that our society gives us only the tools to deny, suppress or evade suffering, and not to deal with and transverse it.

When the source of suffering is our internal image of the body, and not just the body itself, we enter into a strange realm - one where our suffering is no longer grounded in reality, but in perception. As Yoga Sutra 1.8 puts it: "Misconception occurs when knowledge of something is not based upon its true form." When we fall into this trap, we truly believe in a false reflection, and believe in it so strongly that we put our bodies through physical suffering because of it. This is the realm of eating and exercise disorders, of the young women throwing up in the bathroom, the young men trying to live on a diet of protein shakes and killing themselves in the weight-room, of african and asian women who bleach their skin trying to make it whiter. This world of misconception is also a window to the more sinister realm of society-imposed bodily mutilations such as foot-binding and neck stretching, all in the name of 'beauty' and 'perfection'.

These thoughts and realities make me wonder: how has humanity failed these individuals so deeply as to lead them to that suffering? And in our own daily biases and insecurities, how far are we from that 'mental modification' ourselves? How can we work to change that, to help others or to help ourselves?

The Yoga Sutras offer us the first clue: "These mental modifications are restrained by practice and non-attachment." (1.12) and "Practice becomes firmly grounded when well attended to for a long time, without break and in all earnestness." (1.14). In English, that means: Long, Hard Work. Oh darn - no quick fix. ;) And for some of us, used to instant gratification, that might be enough to make us stop listening right there!!

But for others, Yoga offers the perfect practice to address misconceptions. The practice of Yoga encourages a new knowledge of the body to occur - one that begins from within, instead of from without. It offers a chance to re-build a fractured relationship with the Self, and to create a Self-image that is not based on the material world, but on a connection with the deeper self/spirit. And on the physical level, it offers us the chance to create a new ideal: a healthy, balanced body that is unique to every individual. A journey through space and time that is tailored just for us. A journey that takes us to a state of bliss: "Samprajnata samadhi (distinguished contemplation) is accompanied by reasoning, reflecting, rejoicing and pure I-am-ness." (1.17)

On the macro level, the teachings of Yoga have a lot to offer as well. Non attachment (aparigrahah) includes letting go of beauty ideals, and not judging others by their appearance. Non-harming (ahimsa) means not causing others harm, even if believed that it is truly "for their own good" (i.e. the thankfully extinct practice of binding girls feet because it would attract a good marriage). Ahimsa also means not to cause yourself harm, and this practice begins by cultivating a healthy, non-harmful relationship between the body and the mind. And all of these practices are just that - practices. They take conscious effort, discipline, self-awareness and hard work. And don't forget non-attachment: we have to be willing to endure the journey, and not strive for perfection at the outset.

Change begins from within: what are body issues that you have struggled with? How has yoga brought about changes in your perception?

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So concludes part one... In part II I intend to reflect a bit more philosophically on suffering and how it can be that some of us come to call embodiment a gift, despite all that we have to endure. And I am looking for possible guest bloggers or contributers for a Part III on body image within the yoga community... Let me know if you are interested!

This is your real Yoga...

Brenda over at Grounding Thru the Sit Bones posted this inspiring post. In it, she says:

"Your real Yoga is how you live your life."

YES!! This is such a succinct reminder of the PURPOSE of it all - Yoga is not teaching us how to bend, stretch, or stand on our heads. Yoga is teaching us how to LIVE.

One of my TT teachers said these words (more or less) that I will never forget: "My mat is like my battlefield, where I prepare myself for the world. Because if I can come to my mat every day and do battle with myself, with my body and my ego, if I can do that and still keep a steady breath, what in the world can I not do?"

Your real Yoga is in the real world. None of the ancient texts talk about asana (not that it isn't fabulous!), they talk about living life - mindfully, ethically, patiently, compassionately.

I am always trying to find ways of throwing this idea into my classes, to remind my students that it's not about the poses, or whether your nose touches your knees, or what the person on the next mat is doing! It's the way we deal with everyday situations - traffic jams, noisy kids, spilled coffee, cranky spouses, aging parents, power-outages, that makes our Yoga.

Even on the mat, the real Yoga is how we deal with what comes up - our emotions, frustrations, and challenges as we practice. At some point, we ALL experience feelings of insecurity (OMG I can't do that pose but so and so can), feelings of superiority (OMG, I am so better at this pose than so and so is), feelings of frustration, anxiety, inadequacy, strength, weakness, tears and laughter as we peel back our layers and practice the humbling discipline of asana. As Eco Yogini recently blogged in this post, these feelings can leave us drained and "unyogic" if we let them run away with us. But we have to remember to treat ourselves with the same loving kindness as we treat others around us! To acknowledge our feelings, but not let them take control of us! To, as my teacher said, confront ourselves, and then come back to the breath.

Meditation (my 'challenge' for this year - so far not going so well I'm afraid - but it will get better!!) is the same. It's not about whether you can sit still, or for how long. It's not about having a "perfect", empty, calm mind. If you can sit through a meditation session and still show patience and loving-kindness to that butterfly brain... That is Yoga.

Namaste!

The Yoga of Dumbo

Yoga is about transformation. In yoga philosophy, the five Niyamas, or "self-restrictions", teach us how we can prepare ourselves to receive this transformation, to become the change in our lives. By cleansing our bodies and our environment (saucha), we get rid of what is unhealthy, making space for positive growth. By accepting ourselves as we are and feeling gratitude for all our blessings (santosha), we are able to appreciate even the smallest transformations in our lives as a gift. By being disciplined and putting in effort (tapas), we transform wasted energy into the fire of transformation. By studying ourselves (svadhyaya), we strip away the ego and allow the True Self to emerge.

The final Niyama is "Ishvarapranidhana", or "devotion to God". It is a concept that I have struggled with many times, not being, or ever having been, of any religious creed. So for those of you who may also struggle to untangle the same sticky philosophical threads, I offer you the story of Dumbo. Yes, Dumbo. The baby elephant with the enormous ears.

Dumbo is a social outcast. Ridiculed by the circus where he was born, he is taunted and turned into a clown. His mother tries to protect him from a judgemental mob, and is imprisoned as a mad elephant. His circus makes him an object of ridicule, forcing him to fall from a high platform into a vat of pie filling. But then, Dumbo is given a magic feather and told it will make him fly. Desperate to change his situation, not out of ego but in order to get his mother released, Dumbo takes a leap of faith and flaps his ears. And sure enough, he flies! The next night he takes his magic feather to his act, but at the last minute he loses it. As he plummets down, Dumbo finds out that the feather has no magic at all, and, finally believing in himself, he opens his ears and soars through the air, amazing and delighting the audience of thousands.

The feather never had any magic powers - it was the power of Dumbo's belief that allowed him to break through the barriers in his mind and perform miracles.

Ishvarapranidhana, therefore, teaches us that if we believe in transformation, it can happen. If we set our minds to change our situation, we can overcome obstacles that seemed insurmountable! If we truly believe in ourselves, we will create our happiness. And most of all, if we put all our efforts together, we can inspire others to also witness the unforgettable moments of magic in the world, the glorious liberation of transformation, when barriers are destroyed and miracles happen - the moment when an elephant flies. :)

The Niyamas - without ethics, "all is just circus"

It's hard to know where to begin this post, having recently come home from a 3 1/2 week teacher training retreat in beautiful Bali. Since the real purpose of Teacher training is to recognise the teacher within, and in Yoga the discipline of looking at oneself is expressed through the Niyamas, I thought I would start with that. The Niyamas are the second of the eight 'limbs' of Yoga, and are key observances or self-practices that are like beacons, lighting the path back to the true self.

Saucha – purity
To live Saucha starts with oneself – taking care of the body, which is our temple, our vehicle through this life, the mind, and the soul. Yoga gives us helpful cleansing techniques, or Kriyas, which are practiced every day to keep the nadis (energy channels) of the body clean and balanced. In a borrowed metaphor, Yoga is like a process of renovating your house (transforming your life). So once you have knocked down walls, broken through barriers, smashed what you no longer want or need, you must sweep away the old to make room for the new. After all, who decorates a dirty house?

Santosha – Contentment / Satisfaction
Santosha is the principle of accepting what we are given in life as enough. But it is more than material contentment or detachment from the material world. Santosha is to realise that all that we need, we already have, within ourselves. All the tools for our liberation are there, waiting for us to remember how to use them. To live Santosha is also to accept your limitations of the present moment. In our daily practice of the Ashtanga primary series at the retreat, each of us has to accept the limitations of our current practice, as we are allowed no further in the series if we cannot perform a pose. It is frustrating because our natural tendency is to look ahead at poses to come, and measure ourselves against them. But by learning to live with our limitations we also learn to be satisfied with our state of being as we are.

Tapas – Effort / Self-Discipline
Tapas is more than just 'effort', it is 'transformative effort'. Tapas is the ability to see the silver lining in your hard work, even when it feels like it is going nowhere. Literally “fire” in Sanskrit, Tapas is the ability to burn through your negative thoughts and make room for the positive. The Ashtanga Primary Series (literally called “Yoga Therapy” in Sanskrit) is the embodiment of this transformative process. It is a rigorous, challenging series that cleanses and balances the body. It requires discipline, commitment, patience and humility, and when practiced thus, it will indeed rouse the fire that can transform you and move you to another level.

Svadhyaya – Self-study
One could say that this principle is the embodiment of Yoga. Whether we know it or not, to practise Yoga is to embark in a journey of self-discovery. As one of my teachers said: “the mat is like your battlefield. Here you confront yourself. And if you can rise to that challenge, do battle with your ego and still maintain a steady breath, what in life can you not do?” Our Svadhyaya on the retreat was further intensified with the observation of Mauna, or “noble silence”, for the first 7 days when not in class. Imagine 25 people walking in silence, eating in silence. It was intense! The Mauna was like a cleansing process – breaking the habit of “chit-chat”, of speaking without thinking, of being on social autopilot. Bringing us to mindfulness, bringing us into ourselves.

Ishvarapranidhana – devotion
Literally this Niyama means “surrender to God”, but for me personally the idea of devotion is not that blind following that I associate with my limited contacts with modern religious institutions. The devotion here is to a higher purpose, yes, but that purpose need not be sought without, for it resides within every one of us. Call it what you will: the soul, the consciousness, our inner light, our divinity, our inner nobility, our True Self. To be devoted to finding this inner light is a lifelong commitment. It requires us to peel away the obstacles of humanity (ignorance, egoism, attachment, hatred, to name a few) in search for that which is already within us. Ishvarapranidhana is the humility to look truly at oneself, the courage to accept change, the discipline to transform our lives so that we can live every moment of every day as our true selves – so we can be free.

And so, those are a few of the lessons I have been learning of late. It is good to remind ourselves of these fundamental principles, which are after all the foundations of all the rest of the limbs of Yoga, with the Yamas. This is crucial because Patanjali is telling us: to achieve liberation, one must live an ethical life. Without this, in the famous words of Pattabhi Jois: “all is just circus.”

Yogi Ethics 101 - The Yamas

The Yamas are moral or ethical principles, sometimes referred to as 'abstinences'. They are:

*Ahimsa - a principle of non-harming / non-violence
*Satya - a principle of truthfulness
*Asteya - a principle of non-stealing
*Bramychandra - a principle of continence or self-restraint
*Aparigraha - a principle of non-greed or non-attachment.

So, in practical terms, what do these mean?

Ahimsa, or non-harming, is similar to the universal moral principle "thou shalt not kill". Each person may have a different interpretation of this principle. For some, it simply means do not kill people, whereas others take this to include animals as well, and therefore do not eat the flesh of animals, and for still others, it is a motivation to protect the rainforests, since their destruction would kill many species of life. It is up to each of us to think seriously about non-harming and decide what we think is morally right for us. In addition to this though, Ahimsa can be extended to every action you take by asking yourself the simple question: "will this harm someone?". Chances are, if the answer is "yes", you should do your utmost to avoid that course of action. You can - and should - also apply Ahimsa to your own life and wellness - first and foremost. Avoid things that you know to be harmful, including relationships, harmful substances, self-depreciating thoughts, or addictions. The list goes on. Living a life that is non-harmful to yourself is the first step to finding your potential happiness.

Satya, truthfulness, comes second in the Yamas. Again, this principle doesn't only apply to being truthful with others, but to yourself. We all deceive ourselves or tell ourselves and others "little white lies" - sometimes leading us to be so entangled in a web of delusion that we feel we are completely lost and out of touch with ourselves. Staying in a relationship when we are not in love, saying "I tried" while knowing you didn't really, pretending to enjoy something to impress another person, all of these are examples of delusion. The principle of Satya could be colloquialised as "no bullshit". Deep down, we know that these are pretenses or lies, and they cause us inner suffering, not to mention that they might cause others to suffer as well. Satya starts with "keeping it real". It means not only to tell the truth, but also to accept responsibility for our actions instead of telling little untruths to cover them up. However, Satya comes after Ahimsa for a reason - the first principle of an ethical life is non-harmfulness. Therefore when telling the truth, the Yogi should first use restraint, and only tell that truth which is not harmful to others. Gossip is the perfect example - stories take on a life of their own and people end up being hurt by the rumours being told about them. When being truthful it is also always important to remember that what is true for you may not be for another person. When several people witness an event, they may all tell a different version of what happened. They are not consciously being untruthful, but in view of this, it is best to remember that every story has two sides. The Yogi should strive carefully to draw the line between fact and opinion: "I saw them eating lunch together" may be fact, but it's a long way from "I think they're having an affair." While you may truly think this - this is a harmful way of telling the truth, that is based on your opinion, not on actual fact.

Asteya, or non-stealing, has the obvious meaning of not taking without permission that which is not yours. Every person, again, can define what this means to them - be truthful with yourself. Non-stealing can be extended far beyond simply appropriating an item that belongs to someone else. Perhaps you believe that buying pirated DVDs is stealing because it violates copyright. Perhaps you believe that buying goods produced in sweatshops is stealing because people are not fairly compensated for their labour. Perhaps you do not believe that the formulas for key medicine should be kept a secret if they can save lives. Again, examine the issues, and be truthful with yourself - then stick to your moral precepts. In the February 2009 edition of the Yoga Journal, Hillari Dowdle gave her modern interpretation of these Yoga fundamentals, and reminded the readers that beyond the physical interpretation, when you are late, you 'steal' someone else's time, and when you deceive, you 'steal' a person's trust.

Bramychandra, or continence, is perhaps one of the hardest yamas to put in practical terms. The idea of celibacy is not one that is within the reach of the average Yogi during their sexually active years! Keeping in mind that many Yogi sages had sexual partners and children themselves, why is the concept of 'celibacy' important? The main argument is that the expenditure of sexual fluids, namely semen, depletes spiritual energy. Of course, this theory poses a problem for many yogis of all ages - and women in particular! Let us cut a long discussion short by again expanding on the innovative practical interpretation offered by Dowdle - that bramychandra is about "energy moderation". The article compares the total energy of the body to, say, a paycheck of one hundred dollars. So the question is, are you going to spend the whole paycheck in one night, indulging your senses in food, booze, or shoes, and coming out at zero every time? Or, are you going to spend only $25 on your basic needs, and save the rest, thereby gradually increasing the total you have in the bank? Energy is the same. Bramychandra advises you not to over-indulge in anything: I personally would include in this alcohol, drugs, television, work, and yes, sexual activity. Instead, the Yogi is advised to be moderate and live a balanced life, distributing their energy in a way that gives them more energy - not drains them completely. We all know people who are completely ruled by their over-indulgence in alcohol, or completely drained by being a workaholic, or addicted to stress. But again going back to the principle of non-harmfulness - these behaviours harm not only the individuals in question, but those around them and their loved ones. This is why Bramychandra is important.

Aparigah, or non-greed, is like the Buddhist principle of non-attachment. In striving not to be greedy or to be attached to our posessions, we can all use a healthy dose of truthfulness! Non-grasping can start by asking yourself the question "do I really need this?" Or, when you consider items you no longer use, "could someone else benefit more from this?" One of my favourite expressions is: "it's just stuff". When something breaks, or is lost, I remind myself of that. Even with items of sentimental value, the sentiment comes from within me, not from within the object. I can still feel affection for a person that I have lost touch with, without keeping a trinket that they gave me. In the Western world we are taught to define ourselves by our "stuff" - the little things, like accessories and gadgets, to the big things, like houses and cars. In wanting these things, we go from grasping to greed - always wanting bigger, better, more impressive stuff. But of course, these things do not really make a person happy, and deep down inside we all know that. Only when you can detach yourself from greed can you be happy with what you have - which for most of us, is a lot more than the average human in the world has. Therefore the final implication (for me) of non-greed is generosity: recognising that others can benefit far more from our "stuff", our money, or, most precious of all, our time.

These are just some practical suggestions for how to incorporate the Yamas into everyday life, if you choose to do so. But for this yogini, the emphasis should not be placed on the specifics of which moral codes you choose to follow, and exactly how you interpret them. You are an ever-growing, ever-evolving being, and these things can change over time. For me, the most important thing is to decide what is right for you - and stick with it. Only in this way can you live harmoniously, for your actions will be at peace with your inner beliefs. This is integrity - this is Yoga.

Karma Yoga: The Yoga of Action

The Baghavad Gita tells the story of Arjuna, a young warrior who, on the eve of a great and terrible battle, calls to Lord Shiva for guidance. Shiva explains to him the path to the 'eternal state', which requires the seeker to abandon desires and release herself from attachment (moha): "The [wo]man attains peace, who, abandoning all desires, moves about without longing, without the sense of mine and without egoism." (BG II.71)

Upon hearing this, Arjuna thinks to himself that if realisation is a state of mind, why in that case should he engage in action - in particular, in the battle before him? Why not, indeed, withdraw from the world of the senses (and therefore from desires), renounce action? Shiva explains to Arjuna that the road to enlightenment is twofold, and comprises both knowledge and action, saying (in characteristically cryptic fashion): "Not by the non-performance of actions does [wo]man reach actionlessness, nor by mere renunciation does [s]he attain to perfection. " (BG III.4)

Essentially, Shiva is saying that one cannot reach 'perfection', or self-realisation, simply by renouncing action. Furthermore, even if one doesn't act, the mind is still active, and, as he continues: "verily none can ever remain for even a moment without performing action, for everyone is made to act helplessly by the qualities born of Nature." (BG III.5) We are a part of nature, and action is our inherent nature. Every time we breathe, walk, speak - these are actions and they have consequences on the world around us.

Shiva's point here is that by remaining ignorant and un-mindful of our actions, we are most likely to commit those actions which are based in delusion, as opposed to those that lead to self-realisation and have a positive impact on the world. Shiva goes so far to suggest that this can lead to hypocrisy, in the sense that "repression leads to obsession" - by supressing actions and desires one might encourage the mind to dwell on them! Therefore, in order to do good, the Yogi should engage in positive actions while controlling the senses, and being aware of her intentions.

The key to Karma Yoga is to engage in that action which is right, without being attached to the result of the action or expecting/desiring recognition from that action. Think of the greatness of the anonymous gift - that which is given freely, and without expectation of recompense, or a sense of martyrdom, is truly noble. The Yogi should perform her actions for the sake of the rightness of the actions theselves, or dedicate them to a higher purpose. In return for this latter, Shiva explains, the powers-that-be will bless the giver of these actions, and reward shall come to them from the universe in due time and fashion. This, of course, is what we commonly understand as "karma". To those who do good, good things will happen. But beware - the person who does good for purely selfish reasons does not truly progress.

If we are all revolving around the wheel of birth and re-birth, therefore, the person who remains ignorant, or who acts only on selfish impulses or to seek selfish rewards, wastes their time in the cycle. This person is deluded by egoism, and does not recognize themselves (and all their actions) as a part of Nature. On the other hand, the person who controls their desires and acts without expectation of benefit, will progress towards self-realisation and understand that all actions are a part of the tapestry of natural forces, not badges to be pinned to an individual's belt. In the famous words of Lao Tzu: "free will is fate, fate is free will". The enlightened person, controlling their senses, actions and impulses, sees into their true nature, and therein disentangles nature - human nature - so as to rise above the duality of the world as expressed by opposing forces of love and hate, pleasure and pain, gain and loss, etc. This person, freed from these constraints, can attain a state of peace. But, before one can control one's actions and senses, one must possess self-awareness - therefore the seed of Karma Yoga is planted in self-discovery and meditation.

The fundamental precept of Karma Yoga is that action is superior to non-action - and that every action we do should be done for itself, and not for the glorification of our own ego or to seek a reward. However, Yoga Gypsy might ask herself, how is one to know what is right, and what is not?

The next post will discuss some of the possible guidelines a person could use to inform their actions - always remembering, that when in doubt: "the wise should act without attachment, wishing the welfare of the world!" (BG III.25)

Sun and Moon: Masculine and Feminine Energies

The Yoga we are most familiar with - the practicing of physical poses or asanas - is often called Hatha yoga. In Sanskrit, Ha = sun, Tha = moon. Together, Iyengar defines hatha as "force or determined effort". Combined with the meaning of yoga (to 'bind, join, attach', and also 'union' or 'communion') we reach the overarching view that the practice of hatha yoga is a joining or balancing (of the sun and moon energies in the body) by determined effort in order to achieve union or communion. (To what is up to you!)

The concepts of sun and moon elicit in us a reference to masculine and feminine. Hatha yoga, is about disciplining the body (and mind)'s energies. The masculine energy is linked to the God Shiva, and is called the Prana (masculine). The feminine energy is linked to the Goddess Shakti (Shiva's consort) and is called the Aapana. Together they form the Kundalini, which is like a spiral of energy that flows the length of the human spine. This accounts for the focus of Hatha asanas on the spinal column - it's also why it is important to perform poses on both sides of the body (balance).

In theory when we practice Yoga we are trying to join the masculine and feminine energies of our body, thus becoming 'whole' and achieving "a poise of the soul which enables one to look at life in all its aspects evenly." (Mahadev Desai as quoted by Iyengar in 'A Light on Yoga'). These energies flow through our subtle body (our non-physical or psycho-spiritual body... it's complicated - look it up!) by means of channels called nadis. The nadis run all along the body, connecting at 6 special centres of energy called chakras. But now I'm getting sidetracked.

I recently parcitipated in an Anusara Yoga workshop in which the Teacher discussed this balancing principle. He discussed masculine energy as muscular energy. It is that energy which is powerful, energetic, and giving. When you push up from plank pose (kumbhakasana) to downward-facing dog (adho muka svasana), that would be masculine energy. But once you arrive in the pose, you invoke your feminine energy to soften the upper back and the shoulders and sink gracefully into a deeper stretch. The feminine energy is what allows us to be creative, countering the strong but rigid masculine energy with a gentle touch that says "what if...?".

What amazes me is that in my 7 years of practicing Yoga, I have only just discovered this. How did I miss it? It's fascinating (to me!) that in Western Yoga, which is so female-dominated, the feminine principal of Yoga seems to play second fiddle. Is this because the main styles of Yoga we practice today were male-initiated? Or is it because Western society is full of those rigid, energetic masculine principles? Because we are so focused on the individual, or on attaining instead of letting go? One example is our typical Yoga mat - straight and narrow. Why did it take me 7 years of Yoga to hear a Teacher say: "go ahead and go outside your mat". Simple, yet it can change the whole way you practice Yoga. It feels like coming home.

From this we learn a valuable lesson. Yoga is neither masculine nor feminine but both. It is strong yet soft, rigid yet fluid, it is fixed in a moment but flexible and changing always. Somewhere in there is a balance - a moment when time stops, when the ego dissolves, when the Yogini or Yogi just is. And that is Yoga.

~Namaste~