love: the eternal truth

Through the practice of yoga we cut through untruth to reveal the truth of our existence:

In asana by highlighting the tensions we carry unconsciously and our identification with our physical body.

In breathing practice by showing us the precarious nature of our breath and how by trusting it we can soothe the neurosis of our cells.

In meditation by showing us the stories our minds regale us with: some wonderful, some tiresome beyond measure, all of them but a veil over the eternal truth.

Through our practice we break up these stories into their constituent parts and have a wholly different experience of reality, one in which all that counts is that which is eternal.

We accumulate nothing in this life, there is nothing we can take with us. When we are born, we are new babes with the worries of maya, the world of illusion looming large on the horizon of our inevitable ageing, yet when we leave the world nothing will remain but the residue of our love in those we leave behind.

It is true the physical body dissolves, it is true the breath ceases, and that the mind must eventually let go of its stories, but as we delve deeper we must know also that LOVE is eternal.

According to the yogis the root of suffering is avidya, not seeing things as they truly are. Could we just possibly let go of our identifications, of our opinions, give up our judgements and remain present with that which never dies?

In this we are all the same, all human experience is one experience. As we connect not only with the disparate parts of our experience (body, breath, mind etc) but also with other humans, our steps become lighter.

We don’t even need to unroll the mat to do this!

love is all

prop it

As a means of progressing in your asana practice props are paramount. Your yoga mat itself is a prop and we have become so accustomed to using a mat it wouldn't feel like proper yoga without it somehow. 

There are some wonderful ways with props:

- press a cork brick between your thighs for tadãsana, or for setu bandhãsana

- make a loop in a belt as wide as your shoulders and pass it around your upper arms behind your back for a deep shoulder stretch, step into parsvottanãsana in this way

- use the strap to go deeper in natarajãsana as you loop it around your foot, or in danurãsana to go for that deeper shoulder stretch

- prop up your sit bones with a foam block in postures such as gomukhãsana, bharadvajãsana to level out the hips or in dandãsana where you can sit on the lip of the block in order to tip the sit bones upward. 

- use the wall to support your sit bones in forward bends, your heels in downward dogs, your legs in viparita karani

There are endless variations, but the props are just that: props. A means. The balance of effort and relaxation in a pose can be experienced through the use of props. Can we learn to cultivate it once we have got rid of the prop? 

nature provides some wonderful props, here by using a rock I keep my under side body long in ardha chandrãsana, get creative!

Asana is but one aspect of our practice, can we learn to cultivate the attitude of asana when faced with our day to day responsibilities? 

Something happens to students when they step on the mat, some turn severe, others look rather worried, some beam effortlessly, there are so many attitudes we adopt when we come to the mat that when we are asked to let go of these attitudes it can sometimes feel like we are being asked to DO one more thing when in fact it is quite the opposite. For once we are asked not to do but to observe what arises when we don't do. Don't do: do not do. This is the taoist concept of wu wei that so beautifully sums up the balance of effort and relaxation we embody in yoga: doing non doing. 

Try it, or rather don't try, or try to try without trying. Tire your mind so it falls quiet, then allow the truth to arise, effortlessly. 

weight loss and yoga

Of all the tools that this practice of yoga provides us with none can beat the very practical application of awareness to what is arising in this present moment. What is being bandied around currently as mindfulness comes close to this but is so often applied in a way that merely serves to promote something quite other.

Through the prism of our practice we begin to notice our habitual patterns, our 'samskãras'. In his famously severe style B.K.S Iyengar would compare the 'samskãras' to oil stains on fabric, so stubborn and hard to remove. Our practice allows us however to not fret when we encounter those aspects of our "selves" that we are perhaps not so happy about. We are able to see that even the "self" that is  perceiving is not the eternal self and therefore transient, and therefore a 'samskãra' itself. 

This may all sound a little abstract from the outset but it is really a fancy way of describing another notion: perspective. When we are fixated on our habits and trying to rid ourselves of them, in fact what we are doing is attaching to them even stronger. 

So we bring our awareness to the ever arising breath, that which cuts through the residue of the past yet has the power to heal it at a very deep level. 

We bring our awareness to the physical body, its workings, its rhythms and realise that this "self" that elaborates these complex habits, this "self" that makes up these amazingly inventive stories, can drift so far from reality.

There is a meditation from the buddhist tradition that consists of thinking back progressively through your day, then through your week, then through your month, then through the season, the year, the past few years, to your previous stage of development, all the way through the decades to your childhood and through to your infancy and on until 'pop', there you are sitting on your meditation cushion holding... nothing... at all. 

This practice is a beautiful way of cutting through the habit patterns we have formed, noticing that at each stage of our lives we have held something so dear, identified with something so closely and yet the eternal self has remained the same; untarnished. It is also a sure way to exhaust the monkey mind!

So why did I give this blog post its title? because I truly believe that these 'samskãras' we identify with and behave according to, make us heavy. This heaviness I refer to is not physical (though maybe even?) but then neither are we. Let us learn to shed weight gracefully through the application of awareness to what is arising now, only now. Like water off a duck's back let the rest slip away. 

a confidence boost

I recall when I was training in psychotherapy and counselling skills telling one of our course leaders that I was struggling to have the confidence to 'get it right' when it came to interpreting a clients' story. He turned to me and said that it was less a case of having the confidence to "get it right" and more of having the courage to get it wrong. I think this is a very interesting point. Confidence can often be a superficial mask we wear whereas courage comes from some place deeper. It is part of who we truly are, courageous beings who otherwise wouldn't be here.

I was asked to describe how the practice of yoga can help increase confidence so here is a little note I wrote:

The yoga postures (asana) challenge our stability, engaging deep structural support. An intelligent alignment of bones and optimum muscle tensions have a direct affect on our mental state as the soft tissue that link muscle to bone are connected also to the nervous system and brain. Once stability is established in the physical body the message is passed onto the brain.

The breathing practices (pranayama) in yoga, balance the two hemispheres of the brain so we feel neither fatigued nor over excited. We experience confidence at every level of our being: physical, emotional and mental and begin to trust the body's innate desire to support health.

schadenfreude

Sutra I.33

'In relationships, the mind becomes purified by cultivating feelings of friendliness towards those who are happy, compassion for those who are suffering, goodwill towards those who are virtuous, and indifference or neutrality towards those we perceive as wicked or evil.'

Delighting in another’s misfortune seems inevitable at times. We feel onerous in our advice giving, the phrase “I told you so” is one we often repeat to our own children. They deserve what they got for not listening to us. There is a peculiar type of joy in witnessing another’s failure when it is due to neglecting the obvious flow of events. And yet, need we self flagellate due to these complex feelings? Perhaps what we need is to dig a little deeper…

I often view my own body as I would a group of friends, all the various little parts: the left foot, the right wrist, the coccyx, the inner left thigh, the tendons of my neck, all the various, disparate parts with their various, disparate voices, create the clamour that is me. In my practice I give instructions to these little strangers; “you go here and you do this and you do that and then feel this”, and if they don’t: “I told you so”.

Sometimes I pull my lower back, because I don’t engage moola bandha, sometimes my knee goes crunk, because I don’t hug the thigh muscle to the bone, sometimes my ankle goes yelp because my knee has darted forward. When the ego takes hold these things tend to occur. These little injuries are due to my not listening, just as my child fell backward in their chair because they wouldn’t stop rocking in it. Because they thought they could defy the forces of nature. Because they wouldn’t listen.

This fraction of delight we experience is not to be shirked but respected. Life without suffering would leave no room for grace. Let us embrace that which we reject and observe the outcome.

Through listening equanimity arises; one of the highest goals of our yoga practice that can only be achieved when we transcend aversion, when we transcend those inappropriate delights.

Relationship & Community: the inner & the outer

Whether we are naturally introverted or not there is in all of us a craving for community. Just like there exists in all of us the desire to be happy. In my lifetime I have established myself in communities from all walks of life. I crave this connection: with my childhood friends, with family, with the people in my neighbourhood, the people who I studied with, travelled with, lived with, the parents of my childrens' friends, the friends of my parents' children, my partners' friends, his family, the list goes on and on.

This reaching out for community takes place parallel to our practice of connecting internally; both are the practice of yoga. Both are one.

Just as important as our approach to life is our approach to yoga. Do we practice for our individual improvement alone? Progressive steps toward enlightenment take place alongside a wider view of our existence. We are not isolated beings; as we progress spiritually it is necessary to cast the net wider, to connect to more other beings, to recognize that not just in theory but especially in reality: we are one. 

It saddens me to come across divisive behaviours, perhaps more than anywhere in the "yoga world" where approaches to practice have become at times competitive rather than complementary. It seems to show that the deeper work has yet to be done.  The nitty gritty of relating to others, whether we feel challenged by them or not. Recognition of our aversions, our attachments. Coming back to our inner response to the outer manifestations of reality through relationship. I can think of nothing more valuable in this day and age.

On retreat we are given this beautiful shared landscape, practicalities are taken care of and the gateways are opened to communication and spiritual communion. We recognize that we are all the same, we have the same mental chatter, thoughts that distract us, feelings comfortable & uncomfortable. We have physical differences but are the same in having physical differences. We open up to change, we open up to transformation and we do it together.

Support cannot be overestimated, seek support in your life and to be support. Give and receive generously. Go inside, go deep inside and go outside, way outside, to where you did not think you could possibly reach. Let us tell each other what we find...and then fall silent.

toasted pecans : yogic snack

Diet can be quite the obsession for the modern yogi. In this age of one squillion (deliriously delicious) cereal bars with enticing names and wrappers existing alongside rampant starvation, it seems perverse to not pay food the respect it deserves.

Yogic dietary guidelines praise simplicity above all. Think vegetables lightly steamed, plain rice cooked to perfection, fruits consumed at the peak of ripeness. Consciousness applied to what nature provides.

One of my family's favourite snacks takes time but no effort, just the way I like my asanas!

Buy a bag of pecans, suitably expensive but cheaper than a couple of energy balls; soak them overnight in water, then toast them in the oven at 100-120C until crispy.

Deceptively simple, naturally sweet and nourishing.

A yogi's dream diet.

Thank you to Sally Fallon and her book Nourishing Traditions for the inspiration. If it weren't for the emphasis on meat I would surely use this book even more.

approach

Finely tuning our practice to provide us with what we need and to remove what we don't is an art form. Once we have learnt to listen, keeping this vigilant attention can be a struggle if we are not truly connecting to what we are doing. 

There are so many approaches to yoga. This ensures that we never get stuck, or bored. There is much to be said for practicing in times of difficulty, when we feel sick, when we feel tired, when we are anxious... yoga serves as a balm, a soother, an equaliser. But once we are in a state of balance we move into a different stage of practice; should we push our bodies harder? sometimes its good to stir things up, to feel intensely, to uncover the hidden emotions. Our physical weaknesses show us correlates on the level of feeling. 

Last week I went to a workshop with the legendary teacher Sri Dharma Mittra who teaches with humour and intensity and has done for over sixty years. I spend much of my teaching life asking my students to hold back which seems to be the opposite approach to Dharma's. He pushes and challenges and reminds us that "what brings happiness to our minds? our achievements". Whether this be wrapping your leg behind your head from a standing position remains an open question.

We need to understand our own path, when our direction shifts a fraction how does that sit? what changes? When we change our approach what does that bring up? Every now and then push your body; go for the splits, the extreme back bend, injure yourself. what on earth? did I just say that? yes! we are not our bodies. We become so precious about our injuries , but the fear that we are being shown can teach us so much! 

I feel that this is in tune with the practice of many of the ancient yogis. The ones who mollified the body, the ones who fasted, who slept in sirsasana (headstand), who held their arm overhead for years at a time as a means to connect with the transcendental nature of reality, the ones that pushed and pushed and pushed to reach that sense of connection. 

Myself I lean more toward the teachings of the buddha. The nature of reality may be suffering but we can overcome suffering through presence, through observing the lack of inherent existence. When we push the body so hard, we often fall into the trap of the ego; as opposed to realising that we are not our bodies, we become obsessed and attached to the very thing we are trying to be rid of. We are not just proud of our achievements, we cling to them. And if we can no longer wrap our leg behind our heads, we suffer. 

Which is why I encourage my students to hold back, as long as there is presence, notice what impels you to force and push. As my teacher Tias Little says: "beware of your pusher side". A moment of presence is an achievement indeed. Or as Dharma said, "don't overestimate the power of your attention". 

going mental

Most models of the human being include some sort of definition of the mental body, the intellect, the brain or what have you. The workings of the mind are puzzled and pored over, worshipped and rejected in turn. It is the source of greatness and of suffering, and a lot of drivel in between. 

When we practice yoga we look at quieting the 'monkey mind', that which chatters incessantly and ruminates into exhaustion. In fact yoga itself is 'stilling the movements of the mind' according to some commentators. 'yogascitta vritti nirodah'. And yet the commentary of the Yoga Sutras by the Ishayas presents the following interpretation : "Yoga is the non-identification with the movements of the mind". Would it not be better that, rather than forcing the mind into some sort of stillness, we were able to take a step back and watch its meandering without identifying with it?

Even in savasana, when the hard work of asanas is done we often think of 'doing' relaxation. As a concept 'letting go' is useless. It tethers us tighter to the notion that we can control every aspect of our being. Of course when we go deeper in our practice we begin to see that this is impossible, we cannot control it all. Sudden shifts take place in their own time, just as does respiration, as does circulation, as does digestion. The various aspects that make up our human being work at various different rhythms and the mind is quicksilver, a lightening bolt: marvellous and dangerous in turn. Can we admire it from a distance?

I am delighted to be starting a masters degree in the Traditions of Yoga and Meditation come september. It is a privilege to be introduced to the great works that inform the path we're on. This dance between academic study and physical practice, stimulus and stillness, is an infusion I've been curious to taste and I thank my teachers and partner and family for supporting me. 

Above all I am looking forward to sharing what I learn in the wider community to which we all belong.

Namaste

eccentric stalactites

On my recent visit to Puglia I had the privilege of being swallowed up by the earth for a couple of hours. We descended into the caves of Castellana, where you walk for 3 km surrounded by ghoulish pinnacles and dripping rock. Each cm of stalactite takes approximately 120 years to form and where they come close to the stalagmites below, the tension is almost unbearable.

This trip coincided with the end of a week training with the master yogi Tias Little who spends hours a day steeped in stillness and has therefore developed a vision of our internal landscape that rivals that of any great artist. The way he describes the movement and pulsations that occur beneath the skin is so evocative as to ensure that one stays fully present throughout each moment he is teaching. To be with Tias is to be inevitably present. 

As I walked through the twisting alleys of my italian cave, surrounded by rocks shaped like carrots and dreadlocks and owls and cauliflowers I was aware of the very earth's desire to excite and inspire. My imagination was sparked by what greeted my senses, by the silence that muffled my ears, the pressure in my lungs as we went deeper. 

It is a rare gift to come across a teacher of Tias' caliber and authenticity, but to become ones own teacher is the ultimate goal. To have the capacity to keep oneself in the present regardless of the impressions that beg to distract us, to take our mind some place else.

Can we keep our "mundane" reality as alive as this cave? Are there in our very bodies substrata of star dust? eccentric stalactites that just when they're meant to continue on down, jet off into beautiful curlicues and spirals as if to delight themselves? Can we be awake to what's happening at this very moment? because there is none like it, can we maintain the wonder of a child?

Sometimes in our practice we become obsessed by form, please remember that in the body there are no straight lines, you have to feel out your own inner landscape, the subtle layers, the areas that expand, the areas that contract. Only in this way will you be able to let go of what is not needed in order to be open to what is presenting itself to you now.

Slow down, tune in and listen, listen, listen.