The significance of āsana in Hatha Yoga

 

 

Introduction

 

         Within the history of haṭha yoga (‘a somewhat fuzzy term’ (Bühnemann 2007:143)), the significance of āsana has varied. Through the close reading of ancient haṭha yoga texts we can, to some extent, garner its degree of importance, its characteristics, its goals and its implications. Of course this strictly theoretical mode of study is limited by the fact that āsana is by its very nature a practical undertaking.

 

         In this essay I seek to understand some of the roles that āsana in all its myriad and malleable forms, has fulfilled over the course of time. Primarily, I posit āsana as one of the most accessible yoga practices and haṭha yoga as a more inclusive path for the practitioner than perhaps existed until its formation. ‘Such universalism is at least implicit in most works on haṭha yoga’ (Mallinson 2014)

 

         If it is indeed the case that “haṭhayoga is a practical soteriology independent of metaphysical speculation.” (Mallinson 2014) then āsana is an invaluable tool in its pursuit.

 

         Taking a brief overview of the history of haṭha yoga, followed by a brief overview of the history of āsana, I shall then attempt to assess the significance of āsana in the history of haṭha yoga and what its growing popularity may suggest when it comes to our reading of tradition.

 

 

The history of haṭha yoga

 

         Since the emergence of haṭha yoga as a system around the 11th-14th century, many developments have occurred both in terms of the system itself and in regards to its study. The practice of haṭha yoga has ‘long been associated’ (Mallinson 2019:11) with the Nāth yogis. Its Tantric and Buddhist antecedents are also noteworthy for where they position it; ‘the earliest known references to haṭhayoga appear to be in Buddhist tantras (…) its practice was recommended when other techniques had failed.’ (Mallinson 2012:540)

 

         The early haṭha corpus consists mostly of tributaries to the Hathapradīpikā (HYP), the haṭha yoga text par excellence which I shall be studying in this essay. I try to bear in mind Mallinson’s characterization of early haṭha yoga as being a ‘darkness of many doctrines’ (Mallinson 2012 ), while also heeding Birch’s caution regarding the later haṭha corpus, where ‘many Yoga texts synthesized Haṭhayoga with other traditions’ (Birch 2011:fn 528). Both observations compound the difficulty of my task.

 

         There is plenty of disagreement between different texts’ view of haṭha yoga. While the HYP set about to deliberately promote it above all other yogas, ‘several early Haṭha texts (…) prescribe haṭhayoga for a second-rate student (…) who is unable to practice an advanced yoga.’ (Birch 2011:540) In a sense, this last prescription promotes the advancement of a practice that could otherwise be deemed inaccessible, almost everyone apart from the ascetic is ‘unable to practice an advanced yoga’.

 

         Haṭha yoga has widely been misconceived as a forceful and aggressive form of yoga. Much work is currently underway that sheds light on the true meaning of haṭha in textual tradition. For instance we discern, ‘in the Vivekamārtaṇḍa (…) Haṭhayogic techniques have a forceful effect, rather than requiring a forceful effort.’ (Birch 2011:538) This force effects such crucial developments as the raising of the bindu, the channeling of prāna into the central channel and the awakening of kuṇḍalinī, variously regarded as the liberating events on the haṭha yogi’s quest. Whilst it needn’t be denied that: ‘haṭha yoga is profoundly materialist with respect to how the body is understood and experienced, and yet there is no sense in which this materialism is mundane or commonplace.’ (Alter 2005:127) From within this vociferously physical tradition, it comes as no surprise that the practice of āsana, for the first time recognized somewhat more formally, mushroomed prolifically.

 

 

The history of āsana

 

         The tenuous attempt of scholars to make a connection between āsana and yoga before the second millennium is illustrated in their observation of depictions of figures from the beginning of the Common Era, presumably adopting padmāsana. In the ‘identification of figures seated in cross-legged poses as yogis’ (White 2009:56) we can appreciate the quasi-desperate desire to pinpoint the source of postural tradition in spiritual history. Gordon White argues that this posture is ‘ a mark of royal sovereignty (…) rather than of any meditative or yogic practice.’ (White 2009:56) This is but one example of the common tendency to read a spiritual significance into what might otherwise be described as starkly physical positions. In fact regarding the techniques of haṭha yoga, of which āsana is but one, we see how ‘the principles underlying them (…) may be skewed by sectarian interpretations and other vicissitudes.” ( Mallinson 2014a:771) This drive goes someway towards understanding the significance āsana has held in the outsiders’ imagination, sometimes to the behest of what might actually have been occurring.  

 

         Though a clear physical emphasis can be surmised from an ascetic tradition where tapas and mortification practices were and still are highly regarded, āsana as a formal constituent of practice took some time to become established. To this day in the ascetic milieu, āsana is given scarce importance (‘a firsthand account of this is given by James Mallinson (…), who observed Rāmānandī Tyāgīs performing a “few” Haṭhayogic āsanas after their practice of dhūnitap .’ (Birch 2011:fn530))

 

         In various yoga traditions seated postures had been referred to as āsanas extensively beforehand. More complex āsanas appeared for the first time in Vaiṣṇava texts. ‘They first appear in the thirteenth-century Vasiṣṭhasaṃhitā, whose yoga is not haṭhayoga but rather an attempt to accommodate Tantric kundalinī Yoga within an orthodox Vedic soteriology.’ (Mallinson 2012:258) This text is also one of the tributaries of the great HYP and ‘The Haṭhayogapradipikā is the first text on yoga to include āsana among the techniques of haṭhayoga.’ (Mallinson 2014a:772) This suggests to some extent that āsana is a characteristic of haṭha yoga proper, figuring alongside mudrā, kumbhaka and nadanusandhana as one of its four core techniques.  

 

         Although it is hard to tell to what extent the techniques described in textual statements were taking place in practice, we know that traditionally haṭha yoga predominated in an ascetic milieu. Āsana emerges in its history as one of the techniques that could nevertheless be accessible to the average householder. We shall look at how, whether liberation were the ultimate goal or not, āsana was said to offer plenty of benefits along the way.

 

 

The importance of āsana

 

         Before going any further we must highlight the relevance of karma in the context in which the practice of āsana developed; the notion that ‘any effort directed towards purifying the bodily vessel in the present life will bear fruit in a future one ’ (Burley 2000:130) is crucial when it comes to understanding the importance of physical practices. Honing and purifying the body is an act conducive to liberation, perhaps even in this life. We read for instance of the virtuous character of those practitioners who master certain āsanas: ‘padmāsana (…) is attained in this world by the talented few.’ (Digambarji 1970:23) The practitioners’ capacity to master āsanas is a sign of their progress, according to the HYP.

 

      We have seen how until the composition of the HYP, āsana was not treated as one of the official techniques of haṭha yoga. Early texts mention physical techniques that often become subsumed under the rubric of āsana later on; śavāsana for instance was a technique practiced as part of layayoga, the yoga of dissolution. This serves as an example of the merging and sometime eclipsing of different traditions “Onto the bindu-oriented hathayoga was overlaid the layayoga of a Kaula tradition.’(Mallinson 2014a:779) However, it is only ‘in texts on yoga from the seventeenth century onwards (…that…) āsana becomes a central concern.” (Mallinson 2017:91) all in all and given the current predominance of āsana in modern, globalized yoga, we can appreciate that an accelerating process was underway. That is not to say that this process was always viewed favourably. Swami Vivekananda, one of the foremost promoters of yoga to the globalized West ‘although clearly attuned to the subtle body (…) had very little to say about that which has come to define modern practice: āsana.’ (Alter 2005:124), and if he did, it was from a place of derogation. Indeed ‘Indian soteriologies that espoused methods of liberation based on gnosis or initiation (…) viewed the āsanas, prānāyāmas and mudrās of haṭhayoga as unnecessary physical exertion.’ (Birch 2011:531)

 

         The increasing popularization of āsana, even in the medieval period, most likely stems from its approximation of yoga to the more ‘average’ practitioner. This in turn may be partly to answer for its opposition from loftier realms. At a time of dynastic change when non-Sanskrit traditions started to take hold ‘the texts of the haṭhayoga corpus brought to a non-ascetic audience techniques that were developed within ascetic traditions. Among these were non-seated physical postures, for the first time called āsanas.’ (Mallinson 2017:89) We also see that not only in the environ of haṭha yoga but elsewhere ‘the use of the word āsana to describe any sort of physical posture appears to have become widespread by the early 14th CE’ (Mallinson 2014a:776). Yoga seemed to be coming closer to the people and to some extent de-mystified.

 

 

The characteristics of āsana

 

         When looking for clues regarding the significance of āsana in early haṭha yoga we come up against the difficult fact that the characteristics of āsana are not described in much detail. In fact when relying on ancient texts we discover that ‘their terse teachings are not comprehensive enough to serve as foundations for practice’ (Mallinson 2012:264) at all. In much later texts things don’t get much easier as haṭha yoga is commonly conflated with other forms of yoga; ‘many Yoga texts synthesized Haṭhayoga with other traditions such as Patañjalayoga (…) Advaitavedānta (…) Bhakti and Pūja and so on’ (Birch 2011:fn528). Eventually the physical alignment in āsana is described in great detail and is characterized as ‘comfortable and steady’ (Birch 2011:fn531). We see the ideal āsana characterized by the qualities that defined it in the Yoga Sutras. Verily, it becomes hard to analyze the characteristics of āsana in any such thing as haṭha yoga proper.

 

         Earlier in the tradition of haṭha yoga, we can attempt to garner some of the characteristics of āsana from the various names of āsanas. These are sometimes fluid (i.e: ‘This is considered to be Siddhāsana ; others call it Vajrāsana; some call it Muktāsana; others call it Guptāsana’ (Digambarji 1970:19)) Overall though, they suggest a close observation of the physical world and an intimation of ‘joining with’ the other through posture; ‘The notion of union is central to haṭhayoga’ (Birch 2011:533). By imitating an animal, or an attitude, or a sage, or an element from nature, the yogi is able to take the other’s seat. This concern with ‘union’ can also be read onto some of the statements from early haṭha yoga textual tradition such as the Gorakṣaśataka’s statement that ‘with the physical body (absorbed) into the spiritual one, the body becomes extremely pure.’ (Mallinson 2012:271)

 

         Though the exact characteristics of āsana cannot be clearly deduced through the reading of texts, we know that Vedānta was becoming the dominant paradigm at the time of its inception as a formal practice. Through āsana the non-dualistic concern with “union” is pursued, sometimes very literally; ‘it is most probable that the idea of radical trans-substantiation was a consistent feature of practice up until the late nineteenth century. (Alter 2005:122)

However, we also see a deliberate turning away from extremism toward a system that ‘specifies that a technique should be performed gradually, slowly, or gently, depending on the context.’ (Birch 2011:531) In fact regarding the approach required to master yoga, the HYP ‘includes exertion (prayāsa) as one of the six factors that ruin Haṭhayoga.’ (Birch 2011:532) Āsana seems to have been instructive in the practice of moderation.

 

The goals of āsana

 

         In the HYP the practice of āsana was very goal oriented. The results range from conquering fatigue and improving digestion to clearing the mind and achieving liberation, solving many mundane concerns along the way. From a more esoteric standpoint āsanas are part of a set of techniques that aim toward causing the bindu to rise, and in the case of later haṭha yoga, awakening kuṇḍalinī. Āsana is taken as a prerequisite to these more advanced techniques, cultivating the stability and steadiness necessary for the subtle practices. ‘Svātmārāma (…) calls haṭhayoga a flight of steps, and considers ‘āsana’ to be the first stage of progress in ‘haṭhayoga’. Performances which do not look forward to the mental training and spiritual experiences culminating in realization of the Supreme Reality are (…) fruitless effort.” (Digambarji 1970:3)

 

         The Mahāsiddhi, or greatest power, of the haṭha yogin is considered to be liberation. Samādhi continues to reign supreme as the yogic Holy Grail. Āsana can be one of the keys to its conquest, though in this respect, not all āsanas are deemed equal. Those āsanas with a longer history such as padmāsana and siddhāsana seem to be regarded as worthier of mastery. We read for instance: ‘A Yogi who for twelve years contemplates on the Ātman, takes moderate diet and continuously practices Siddhāsana attains thereby the consummation of his Yoga. Of what use are the many other Āsanas to one who has mastered Siddhāsana?’ (Digambarji 1970:20) This passage is an illustrative example of how āsana was treated at this time in haṭha yoga’s history as an ancillary practice, that alongside other factors (diet, concentration…) helped achieve ultimate liberation.

 

         Of the many “worthwhile fruits” of āsana practice, good health, enjoyment, liberation and siddhis are all mentioned in the HYP as part of the spiritual “package”.

 

The implications of āsana

 

         Although ‘the root texts of haṭhayoga and their exegesis make little room for discussions of philosophy’ (Mallinson 2014:3) we can surmise some of the implications that the gradual elevation of āsana entailed by viewing it in historical context. Bearing in mind ‘the vast Tantric current that developed in medieval India around esoteric practices which included bodily techniques.” (Bouillier 2018:11), we can appreciate the powerful influence that haṭha yogins had to contend with. We read how ‘much of haṭhayoga’s development can be seen as a reaction against the exclusivity and complexity of Tantric cults and practices.’ (Mallinson 2012:257) Āsana, though practiced from the platform of the gross, physical body, is believed to grant access to the subtle, inner body. We read references to the esoteric realm for instance in the mention of eighty-four lakh āsana (eighty-four being an auspicious figure). We read how siddhāsana ‘purifies the seventy-two thousand nadīs.’ (Digambarji 1970:20) and matsyendrāsana ‘ bestows arousal of the kuṇḍalinī.’ (Digambarji 1970:14) The significance of āsana is sacralized and counts towards the elevation of haṭha yoga as a worthy tradition in its own right.

 

         Given that ‘all traditional systems of Yoga (…) assign a preparatory and subordinate place to āsanas in pursuit of liberation from the cycle of rebirth’ (Bühnemann 2007: 21), one wonders at how it came to be that āsana is commonly the sole representative of what yoga means nowadays. We have seen how its conflation with other modes of yoga practice, its absorption of Tantric terminology and its versatility have meant that āsana has over time come to embody more than what āsana might at first glance signify. In a sense āsana is “more than āsana.” ‘Some texts offer specialized philosophical interpretations of the term, such as the (…) Aparoksānubhūti (verse 112), which defines asana as ‘that in which continuous reflection on brahman is easily possible.’’ (Bühnemann 2007:12)

 

 

Conclusion

 

      When it comes to analyzing the prominence of āsana in more modern forms of haṭha yoga, it pays to bear in mind the increasingly globalized, transnational context into which haṭha yoga has developed. Just as tiger-skins and well-built huts have given way to yoga mats and ‘clean, airy places’ (Iyengar 1965:37), the significance of āsana has shifted. As society has become more secularized and despite the fact that many modern practitioners claim authenticity via tradition, the treatment of āsana has morphed, in some cases beyond recognition, from its early definitions.

 

         For the serious practitioner, overtly aware of the health benefits of āsana practice but willing to delve into its’ deeper significance, it becomes necessary to turn one’s gaze far into the past to explore the complex labyrinth of textual tradition. ‘Most of the varieties of yoga practiced around the world today derive from haṭha yoga. The first texts to teach its techniques appeared soon after the beginning of the second millennium.’ (Mallinson 2014a:257). The abundance of texts, often compilations, can be confounding. Each of their tributaries has its own nuanced treatment of the terms and techniques within, that can also shape shift through history. “Mudrās such as mahāmudrā and viparītakaranī, which involve physical postures and were taught in the Dattātreyayogaśāstra and other early haṭhayoga texts, are taught as āsanas in some later works.” (Mallinson 2017:90). As āsana has gained more importance, other practices, perhaps more subtle, are subsumed within its fold making it hard to keep track.

 

         We can wonder in fascination at how: “ As the corpus of texts on Haṭhayoga developed, āsana went from being a simple way of sitting (…) to one of its most important, complex, diverse and well-documented practices.” (Mallinson 2017: 91) but we might also be right to question what has been lost along the way.

 

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Bibliography

 

Alter, J. 2005. ‘Modern Medical Yoga: Struggling with a History of Magic, Alchemy, and Sex’ in Asian Medicine: 1.1: 119-46.

 

Birch, J. 2011. ‘Meaning of Haṭha in Early Haṭha yoga.’ Journal of the American Oriental Society. 131.4:527-54.

 

Bouillier, V. 2018. ‘Monastic Wanderers. Nāth Yogī Ascetics in Modern South Asia.’ London & New York. Routledge

 

Bühnemann, G. 2007.’Eighty-Four Āsanas in Yoga: A Survey of Traditions, with Illustrations.’ New Delhi. DK Printworld.  

 

Burley, M. 2000. ‘Haṭha -Yoga: Its Theory, Context, and Practice. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass.

 

Digambarji, S. 1970. ‘Hathapradīpikā of Svātmārāma.’ Lonavla. Kaivalyadhama, S.M.Y.M. Samiti.

 

Iyengar, B.K.S. 1965. ‘Light on Yoga.’ London. Allen & Unwin.

 

Mallinson, J. 2012. ‘The Original Gorakṣaśataka.’ in White 2012.

______­­­____. 2014. ‘Haṭhayoga’s Philosophy: A Fortuitous Union of  Non-Dualities.’ in Journal of Indian Philosophy 42.1: 225-47.

__________. 2014a. ‘Haṭha Yoga’ in Brill Encyclopaedia of Hinduism. 3: 770-81.

__________. 2017. ‘Roots of Yoga.’ UK. Penguin Classics.

__________. Forthcoming. ‘ The Amṛtasiddhi: Haṭhayoga’s Tantric Buddhist Source Text’ in Festschrift in Honour of Professor Alexis G. Sanderson.

 

White, D.G. 2009. ‘Sinister Yogis.’ University of Chicago Press.

 

     

 

   

 

A small meditation. A reminder

      It is widely recognized that we are a culture of death deniers. Not for us the burning of our corpses on open fires, the contemplation on the inevitable demise and dissolution of our oh-so-precious bodies. And yet everything we fret for is soothed by this very inevitability.

 

      In our yoga practice we practice for our death. We rest in śavāsana and set aside the tick-tock of the brain machine, dropping instead into the stillness. The only pulsation that still remains in the steady throb of life, not ours.

 

      How could our heart beat be ours? Do we have any say over its rhythm? Do we regulate the peristaltic chugging in our gut? Do we track our wrinkles with sage recognition or do we tremble at our own mortality?

 

      Perhaps the greatest secret is the most obvious. When we live as though we are going to die, we have learnt it. And that goes on and on.

Imperfect

      The world has got off to a bumpy start this year. As an inextricable component of this planet, so inevitably, have I.

      I would like to say that I have answers, but all I have are questions. They are what keep my heart beating. Its like my heart beat itself is a repetitive act of questioning.

     When we set off on the path to meditate we need first of all to cultivate calm. With wildfires raging, wars breaking out and thin veiled animosity between those closest at hand, calm is an art in itself, challenging to the extreme. 

      I would like to say that calm is the backbone of peace but I’m not sure that’s right. Having enough food in one’s stomach, a safe place to sleep, trust in those around us. These surely precede calm.

      Thereafter calm is not a luxury but a necessity. We serve no one and nothing without it. We cannot make sound judgments, only by fluke. We follow herds ill-advised

      I would like to say I have it all worked out, but I don’t. I come back to my practice every day and remain humble. I make reverence to the space I occupy.

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      We judge each other by our actions and so we should, up to a point. Discrimination is a necessary process when choosing the peaceful path. I fly in fuel-chugging jets, buy food wrapped in plastic and indulge in the flesh of fish. None of these actions give me sound morals. The path of inquiry for me is not one of self-flagellation but of questioning. Would this planet truly be better off without me on it? Should I be aiming at offsetting myself?

      I would like to say I am perfect, but I wouldn’t really. How would that make you feel? I am imperfect, so are you.

      The New Year is a time for resolutions, to strengthen those habits that bolster our ego. What if our resolve were to dismantle the ego altogether? To return to nature? An imperfect feat, but perfection is an illusion. In these dizzy times of ecological demise, orienting towards nature is absolute priority.

      I would like to say that I know one thing for sure, but I believe: nature is the way.

      All these practices; yoga, meditation, chanting, therapy, religion… if they don’t serve to re-align us with nature, are a lie. To be weighed down by our past in this eternal present is of no use to anyone or anything.

      The moment is now. A song by Bob Marley goes: ‘it is brighter on the outside than it is really on the inside.’ I would say Go inside! It is the same as outside. (I agree with Marley by the way, I always agree with Marley).

Ahimsa & Yoga Off the Mat

      What is the real value of yoga? Its therapeutic effects are widely known. Its capacity to soothe away stress is not to be underestimated. But where is the stress coming from? Won’t it just rear its ugly head again?

      I’m not sure that yoga on its own is much use to be honest. In fact yoga on its own is rubbish. It needs us. The extraordinary growth of yoga, the studios, teachers, practitioners, would all indicate that we need yoga. No we don’t. Yoga needs us. It needs us to show up. And that’s the thing: wherever we are, as long as we don’t keep dodging our Self, there is yoga. How can yoga be confined to the mat?

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      Following on from this line of reasoning Yoga Off the Mat seems to me just as much a non-sequituur as Yoga On the Mat. We show up and then we dodge ourselves. A waste of sweat indeed. Yoga, this exquisite practice that gains us access to the divine pulse within, is bastardized for the sake of supple muscles and glowing skin. Yoga that shows us the immortal nature of this divine pulse sacrificed to the project of these mortal crumbling altars we worship foolishly.

      What’s going on here? I believe there is a difference between self and Self. This body that houses the memory of our miraculous birth, that keeps the score of each action we have taken, that is sailing us one-pointedly towards the other shore. We treat it like an ornament for our mantelpiece.

      How easy it is for yoga to become part of this futile project. Yoga On the Mat can be great indeed. Our practice becomes a communion with the Self which dwells not just in this body, but in that body, in that tree, in that city street, in that bird in the sky, in that puddle of water, in the eyes of that street seller, in everything, every beating, pulsating, breathing, living thing. Yoga Off the Mat. When we remember and keep remembering that what seems to be that is actually this also.

      Where do we begin? By attending to what is. There is plenty to attend to in this life. As a busy human it is easy to forget to be still. Be still for what? And if we are still we’re not really still are we? Make this your starting point. Relax the physical brain, move away from that hyperactive centre of activity and into the heart space. The pulsation can be felt stronger there. The connection to Self can be felt as the connection to self loosens.

      The more we move towards the heart, the more tenderly we treat our pain. Then we can move out into the “external” world and attend to it also. We can attend to the pain of the world as our own, with tenderness.

      Watch out, with soft eyes.

Meditation in the body

The eight limbs of classical yoga provide the framework for a gradual ‘refining’ of conscious awareness until we reach its purest un-distilled ‘essence’. At this stage we need to let go into the stream of ever-changing reality.

By focusing first on our actions in the world, our actions toward ourselves (inner habits), our posture and ease of breath, we proceed to turn the senses inward and to abide in tranquility, undisturbed by mental fluctuations. By abiding in this state we allow the connection with divinity to come about.

Meditation is not a concept to be understood. Yoga as meditation in the body is just one form of cultivating intimacy with our lived present moment. When I say yoga I could more specifically refer to yoga asana. If we come to meditation with expectations and goals we limit ourselves. Our personal aims are necessarily conditioned by our past experiences. If however we are able to cultivate openness to what arises through the application of mindful awareness we are more likely to gain insight into the way of reality, untainted by our projections. The practice of sensory awareness is one way of doing this. Our sensations are lived in the present.

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We learn tips to avoid common pitfalls such as the sense of being overwhelmed. We can break down the whole into smaller parts taking each moment as it comes. Mantra can be a useful tool for the brain to focus its attention on while the rest of the system can go about the good work of regenerating its natural rhythms and its connection to the web of life it is a part of.

We can go into greater detail regarding the quality of our experience, cultivating opposite states in order to expand the field of awareness.

Ultimately the technique itself can be relinquished and necessarily will be relinquished when the time is ripe. It’s important for any scaffolding that may’ve been constructed to scale the heights of meditation to then be dismantled, least we confuse our whereabout with how we got there.

The Greatest Battle

   All yoga practice involves an ego battle, to some extent. It could be a minor tiff or a full-blown battle, interspersed with periods of love-making, tender and at times passionate. Without wanting to wade too deeply into the intricacies of yoga's rich philosophical tapestry, after all 'who am I' to even attempt such a thing? I nevertheless dare to point out that this ego battle is a battle between one's self and one's Self.  

 

   The case for 'getting out of your own way' has never been more urgent. Confronting the ego on the mat can open up the space that's needed to fight the battles that really matter. However, when we become fixated with fighting ourselves (true 'Self') not our egos, the practice becomes self-serving (as in 'small self') and if all this talk of egos and selves is confusing, don't worry, these terms are part of the sophisticated act that props up the illusion that we are somehow in control. Practice allows one to drop away the effort required to sustain the illusion (maya), thereby glimpsing the true nature of reality.

 

    What do I mean by fighting ourselves? If you have ever found yourself holding your breath and gritting your teeth, hardening your eyes and muscling your way through the asanas, chances are you are not hearing that very quiet voice that coaxes you down a different path altogether. Chances are you believe this effort to be somehow necessary, be it because it's something you're used to, or because this level of interaction with the body is unfamiliar and therefore you know no other way to endure it. The principles of peace and love are replaced by struggle and pain. I am not here to say that this is wrong, it is what it is what it is. But there is something here to be learnt, something that differentiates yoga from a muscle binding enterprise that strengthens our resolve and endurance. Our practice on the mat is our rehearsal for how we practice our humanity off the mat. After all, does the planet need more self-serving iron men or peaceful warriors engaged in non-violent resistance?

 

’Can we let go of struggle in asana?’

Can we let go of struggle in asana?’

    Many school of yoga place enormous emphasis on seva or self-service, the wisdom teachings hark lyrical about compassion. However, if we have not confronted our egos, if we are fighting ourselves, holding our breath and enduring the inevitable pain of existence, won't we be handing out rotting banana skins instead of nourishing fruits? Unless we quieten down and listen to that subterranean pulse, life-sustaining, tender and utterly beautiful, following what we really love, connecting with the intimacy of each breath that rises and falls outside of the net of our controlling grip, unless we get out of our own way, the world will keep bringing us back, face to face with our foes. Our small selves will keep yakking on, pretending to know what life is all about. Confusion will abound, and we will be of little use to anyone.

 

    If on the other hand we take that other path, the quiet one, we ally with spontaneity, we open our eyes, literally and metaphorically, to what is really needed. In the words of Jonathan Kozol we learn to 'pick battles big enough to matter, small enough to win.' Our victories over our egos may be the most important ones to win, they teach us a different way of fighting

The Power of How

  If only we could all agree that life is too short to churn over the past or put so much energy into the future; our projects, dreams and plans. But what else do we have? The jolting realization of presence is hard to come by; haphazard rather than earned.

   How are we treat our past and future in our present? Things that have already happened cannot come undone, but how we feel about them now is a different story. Things that are yet to pass hold no keys, only the present does. The future-in-the-making. Take the following quote from the Upanishads:

That is perfect. This is perfect. Perfect comes from perfect. Take perfect from perfect, and the remainder is perfect. May peace, and peace, and peace be everywhere.

   And what has all of this to do with yoga? Well, as long as we feel that there is a great body of yoga wisdom crafted by the ancients somewhere, and waiting for us to unlock its secrets at some future point, we are laboring under an illusion.

   One cannot do anything in the future, only now. We can think of doing in the future, achieving a certain pose, attaining a certain calm, but this is a distraction from the only secret ever worth knowing, the most precious secret of all. We are enough because we can only ever be enough.

   That graceful, perfect asana, that blissful, sage meditation, its never going to happen, it will last for a blink of a memory of what was. How about that for enlightenment.  

   We’re all in this together, right here, right now.

'Un-rushing'

In the sessions I lead I often talk about ‘unrushing’, or undoing the effects of rushing. The fact is that rushing has become the default mode of our age. We are not even aware we are doing it. But our bodies keep the score.

The problem seems to be that it is hard to recognize one’s own tendencies. Of course it is, otherwise we wouldn’t do it right? We wouldn’t rush around like headless chickens if we could see what we looked like. But our brains are blind and quick like quicksilver. We place all the demands of the racehorse onto a body that itself has a complex collection of different rhythms to regulate and expect things to be dandy.

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So how can we set about noticing when we are doing it? When we are rushing? These are some of the cues I mention in asana practice also:

-      Is your breath compromised?

-      Are you walking into rooms forgetting why you came into them? Just because we all do it doesn’t make it normal!

-      Do you struggle to keep your attention focused on what you are doing?

-      Do you rely on an excessive use of stimulants?

-      Are you rushing through the important things? Reading your children a bedtime story, watching the sun rise or set, listening to a song…

 

When I put out my lower back for the first time I wondered how could this have happened? I practice yoga daily for an hour at least, most of which is slow, conscious movement and breath. I meditate daily, observing my thoughts and regulating my emotions. How did I get into such a state of agony? Could it be that I was stressed? I didn’t think I was. But that is just it. Our thoughts don’t register the half of it. When relating the ream of lists I was juggling at the time it was scarcely surprising to the outsider that perhaps, possibly I was biting off a bit more than I had time to chew.

      We are living at a time when multitasking is seen as a desirable super power rather than as the non-sequituur it is. It is not possible to multitask, there is simply no such thing. We may be doing many things at once but our attention can only possibly be on one. Does this mean that we have to give up on our lives and their busy schedules? Not necessarily, but can we bring in that all enhancing quality of slowness that is so desperately needed? I won’t call it mindfulness, consciousness or awareness. These buzzwords are buzzing with a clutter of expectations. Call it what you will, I call it ‘unrushing’.

 

Read The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk M.D

come to my upcoming workshop at Yoga Akasha on the gunas and their role in our yoga practice

The Real from the Unreal

  We are an irreligious lot.

   Rudderless, it is hard not to end up exhausted by the frantic, self-serving confusion of activity. When we lose direction, action is imperative. Orienting to our centre, we embrace the practices of yoga; yoking our attention to the breath, studying the wisdom of scripture, being truthful about what is real and what is not.

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  In this world of ticker tape gurus, we need to beware of who we follow. When the heart is dimmed or contracted, we need to listen. This is not the way of truth. Truth is blissful, clear and enormous. We are embraced by truth in a giant embrace that holds us all. There is no one left behind, not a single being, not a single soul. If your practice leaves anyone out, beware.

Always practicing balance, cultivating discernment and looking for the taste of one-ness in everything, the yogi abides. Not sallowed by gloom, not excited by hype nor swayed by the judgement of the masses, the yogi sees through to the core of life. Unscathed by one million breathless arguments, small, pulsating, yet immensely strong, is the song of eternal bliss.

   Blink, and you’ll miss it. Smile and you’ll come face to face.

Ecstasy or Cessation?

Yogis have followed one of two paths; the ecstatic or that of cessation. Are they necessarily distinct? Does it mean that in our practice we are guided either by that which uplifts us, pursuing our bliss or by creating rules that ensure we don’t go down the rabbit hole of desire?

 What then is the role of desire for the yogi? Kāma is a choice in itself. Have faith in your desire and cessation itself will be desirable.

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I would like to share a selected passage from the Kumārasambhava that describes Śiva in meditation. It is taken from James Mallinson’s book ‘The Roots of Yoga’

 

“Kāma, the god of love, his body about to fall,

Saw Three-Eyed Śiva in meditation,

Seated on a cedarwood dais covered by a tiger skin;

His upper body held steady by his yogic posture,

Straight and erect, his shoulders rounded,

Seeming, from the placing of his upturned hands,

To have an open lotus in his lap;

His crown of dreadlocks bound up by a snake,

A double-stringed rudrāksa rosary hanging from his hand,

He was wearing a knotted deerskin made a bluer black

By the glow cast from his neck;

With his eyes gazing downwards,

Their fierce pupils dimmed and stilled,

Holding the brows steady, lashes unflickering,

He was focusing on his nose;

As a result of restraining his inner winds

He was like a cloud without the rage of rain,

Like a pot of water without a ripple,

Like an unflickering lamp in a place without wind;

With the beams of light from his head,

Which had found a way out of the eyes

Of the skull in his crest,

He was dulling the splendor,

More delicate than a lotus thread,

Of the young moon;

Controlling his mind in a samādhi,

Checking its motion through the nine doors

And fixing it in his heart,

He was gazing on the self in the self,

Which the sages know to be imperishable.”

 

So much to love