Thoughts from the Mat Archive
Thoughts from the Mat, August 23, 2009
The Value of Nothing
It is easy to get impatient with the less active parts of a yoga practice. Particularly when we are new to the practice, or at times when we are full of vibrant energy, the slow breathing and centering activity at the beginning of a class and relaxation at the end can feel aggravating. It's time to DO yoga! Get moving! Burn calories! Flush out the toxins! Go, go, go!
These are precisely the times when it is important to take a few moments to do nothing. As we center ourselves before the practice and relax at the end, it may very well be the only time in the day or week when we are not only permitted, but asked to do NOTHING. Just sit there and breathe, as an objective observer of our own bodies as the breath moves in and out.
When we do nothing but sit and watch the breath, it automatically changes whether or not we intend in to change. Likewise, when we observe the turnings of the mind in sivasana, the act of objectively watching the thoughts that rise and fall in the mind -without engagement- changes those thoughts. Not by an act of will, but simply by becoming aware, everything changes. The breath, and in turn the body, relax. The mind begins to quiet.
We know this same thing about the outer world through quantum physics; the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle tells us that the act of observing subatomic particles changes some properties of those particles. The observer becomes part of the observed system. As it goes for subatomic particles, so it goes for the breath and the mind. How very valuable it is to do nothing; those few moments of nothing during the day help us to move through all of the somethings in our lives with greater ease and clarity.
Thoughts from the Mat, July 26, 2009
Asteya
Like so many of the yamas and niyamas, the concept of "asteya" is fairly simple: non-stealing. Also like the other yamas and niyamas, the principle of asteya has depth and applies both to interaction with the outside world and the world within.
At its most basic, asteya simply means not taking what isn't yours. Most of us don't steal, or at least we think we don't steal. But, what if we considered all of our actions in the context of non-stealing? How often to we justify taking that which does not belong to us, whether it is a pack of post-its from the office, or shampoo from a hotel? Going a little deeper, we may find that on occasion what we steal from others is our attention. When we are with a friend or spouse but our mind is elsewhere, we are stealing away the care and attention that our friends and family deserve.
Sometimes, as we examine our behavior, we may find that we steal from others and ourselves at the same time. For example, people who are always late are stealing others' time, and stealing their own time and peace of mind as they rush from place to place. Other times, we may find that we steal from ourselves with our thoughts, constantly inventing stories about our own limitations that keep us from fulling engaging with the world.
On the mat, we can apply the concept of asteya as we scan the body in postures, looking for places of holding or tension. Squinting or scrunching the face during a tedious posture steals energy from the parts of the body that hold the position. Another example is habitually clenching the hands during hip opening postures. Clenching the hands steals energy and focus away from the opening in the hips. We also steal energy from ourselves on the mat when we allow the mind to wander during the practice; we miss the process of the postures manifesting in the body.
As a teacher, I often think of asteya when I approach a class on a difficult day. I know that if I let my mind wander during the class, or if I settle for just going through the motions when I am tired or upset, I am stealing from my students. All of my students are entitled to my full attention, love, and commitment when they make the commitment of their time and resources to be in my class.
The process of seeing our own behavior through the lens of the yamas and niyamas can be painful. Sometimes this examination reveals aspects of oneself that are unpleasant or embarrassing. Perhaps this is why we start with ahimsa (non-harming) and satya (non-lying), so that we can meet ourselves with compassion and honesty.
Thoughts from the Mat, 6/21/09
Maintenance
Hi Yogis and Yoginis! The Thoughts from the Mat will be back soon. Right now my effort is going toward updating the design of the site, so stay tuned. See you on the mat! Namaste.
Thoughts from the Mat, 6/7/09
More on the Eight Limbs of Yoga - Satya
The first of the eight limbs of yoga are the yamas, the "don'ts" of an ethical life. There are five yamas, the second of which is satya, non-lying. On the surface, the meaning of satya is obvious: tell the truth, all the time. For many, this may seem idealistic. Our experience tells us that there times when we must lie, especially to protect another person's feelings. After all, if we tell the truth and it is hurtful, are we then not practicing ahimsa?
Satya is not a license to be cruel, or to spout off our opinions unsolicited. One can express the truth in a manner that is kind, even if the truth itself may cause temporary discomfort or disappointment.
It is interesting to think about what would happen if we really told the truth all the time, and how it would change our conversations, from the passing pleasantries we share with co-workers, to important discussions with our families. Instead of hardwired statements like "fine,""great," "the usual," and "of course, dear," -which can bring their own harm- we might suddenly find our conversations filled with statements like, "I know, but I don't want to tell you because I am afraid of what you will think of me," and "I feel guilty because my opinion will hurt your feelings." And sometimes, "I don't know."
How might your conversations change if after everything you said, you asked yourself, "is that so?" Truth telling is not restricted to our relationship with others; it applies to our relationship with ourself as well. Of the thousands of thoughts you have in a day, how many are actually true? What might happen if each and every thought were followed by the statement "is that so?" "I need a cup of coffee." Is that so? "Everything will be better once I finish this project." Is that so? These are just the little thoughts that form our experience. What of the larger thoughts and stories about life that we don't notice or question? "This is just how relationships are after a while." Is that so? "I can't enjoy this too much, or something bad will happen." Is that so? "No one really gets me." Is that so?
Most often, we don't tell the truth because we are afraid, and with good reason. If we started to tell the truth all the time, our lives would change radically; it is easy to imagine. Anything that is no longer true for us would start to fall away, the relationships, the jobs, the tasks, even some things that seem to bring us pleasure. It sounds scary - what would be left?- but shedding that which is untrue about our lives is like shedding garments that no longer fit, or changing a hairstyle that is no longer practical. Others may approve or disapprove, some may think we look like an entirely different person, but really, we have just found a more fitting way to move through the world.
This is the great power that exists in the truth. When we embrace it for ourselves, the world transforms around us.
Thoughts from the Mat, 5/31/09
More on the Eight Limbs of Yoga - Ahimsa
The first of the eight limbs of yoga are the yamas, the "don'ts" of an ethical life. There are five yamas, the first of which is ahimsa, non-violence or non-harming. In the broadest sense, ahimsa means avoidance of causing physical harm to living beings, humans and critters alike. However, there is far more to the practice of ahimsa; it also applies to emotional harm, spiritual harm, or any other kind of harm.
It can be troubling to examine how each of our actions relates to ahimsa. Every action can contribute to suffering in some way, from the origin of the clothes we buy to the food we eat, to ignoring the needs of a spouse or friend, or driving aggressively. While awareness of the impact of our actions is extremely important, sometimes it can leave us overwhelmed, forgetting about the practice of ahimsa toward ourselves.
The physical practice of yoga is a safe means for examining the ways in which we cause harm to ourselves with our thoughts and our expectations. Where does the mind go in a difficult posture? Do you get mad at yourself for not being able to achieve your ideal? Do you push yourself to the point at which you harm your body? Do you accept the posture as it is in your body? Or is it during difficult postures that you check out, adjust your clothing, take a drink of water? Do these thoughts, ideas, and expectations serve you, or harm you?
Over time, as we examine our thought patterns in the postures, we begin to recognize these patterns when we come off the mat. Sometimes we need to push ourselves into difficult situations in order to "find our edge," but other times we push ourselves as punishment or as a means of atonement for a perceived shortcoming. We overwork the body because we think we are unattractive, we overwork ourselves because we think we don't measure up to some arbitrary standard, we overcommit because we think people won't like us if we say "no," we over-schedule ourselves because we fear the truths that will arise when we are well-rested and centered. On and on these stories go. Sometimes our stories serve us, but when they become habit, automatic and unexamined, they cause suffering.
Many people come to yoga solely for the physical benefits of the practice, but over time come to appreciate the benefits of exploration of the turnings of the mind. When we understand our mind, we are able to practice ahimsa toward ourselves. As we practice ahimsa toward ourselves, we develop a deeper understanding of the nature of suffering and liberation from it, which we can then extend unconditionally and without reservation to other beings. Once we understand it, we can give it away.
Thoughts from the Mat, 5/24/09
Memory
With Memorial Day this week, it is an appropriate time to bring attention to the body's memory. Our physical bodies are the manifestation of every single thing that has ever happened to us: every thought, action or idea has shaped the body.
We know this to be true in a broad sense. We see changes in the body when we choose to exercise or not exercise or to eat well or not eat well. We know that the body will be stiff after sitting for a long period of time, and that the body will be limber if we have been stretching regularly. Likewise, all of the other billions and billions of actions of the body over a lifetime contribute to the body we have in this moment.
We know also that thoughts can cause changes in the body. Thoughts about that which angers us cause the blood pressure to rise and muscles to clench. Thoughts about that which brings us joy release serotonin in the brain, and cause the body to relax. Thoughts about that which causes anxiety or fear trigger an adrenaline response and shorten the breath. The billions and billions of thoughts we have had in our lives also had a part in shaping the body that we bring to our practice.
So, knowing that, we come to understand that the body has its own memory. Our feet may contain the memories of walking on sand, or standing in a stream or wearing stiff, formal shoes. Our legs may contain the memories of walking city blocks, or trudging through deep snow, or doing squat thrusts. Our knees may contain the memories of kneeling in church, proposing to our spouse, or falling off a bike. Our hips may contain the memories of sexual activity, or dancing or balancing a fidgety toddler. Our bellies may contain the memories of that feeling that something terrible has happened, or nervous butterflies before going on a date, or overeating at Thanksgiving. And on, and on it goes! Each part of the body contains and is shaped by every experience we have ever had.
How does knowing this add to our yoga practice? After all, the very first sutra tells us that yoga begins NOW, in THIS moment, in the present. The goal of the practice is to be fully present IN the the present. What, then, do we make of all of this talk of memory? I believe that it is only when we understand that the unique experiences of our lives, every physical action and every thought, are what brought us to be in this practice in this particular body. When we understand that our practice will never and can never look like any other person's practice because our body is completely unique, we are free to fully experience the beauty and perfection of the postures as they manifest uniquely in our own bodies. In this way, we can move toward total presence in the practice, and learn to carry this un-self-conscious presence into the rest of our lives.
Thoughts from the Mat, 5/17/09
The Sutras
Attend enough classes, and you'll start to hear about the Sutras. The Yoga Sutras, 195 aphorisms authored by Patanjalis sometime between 5,000 B.C.E. and 300 A.D., were the first systematic description of the practice of yoga. Sutra means "thread" (it is the root of the word "suture."), and refers to each of the aphorisms or "threads" of the practice.
Within the Sutras, Patanjalis outlines the eight limbs of yoga, which are:
- Yamas - the "don'ts" of action
- Niyamas - the "DOs" of action
- Asana - practice of the postures
- Pranayama - mastery of the breath
- Pratyahara - withdrawal of the senses
- Dharana - concentration
- Dhyana - meditation
- Samadhi - bliss
Notice that the postures - what we tend to think of as the entire practice - are just one part of a broader system of interacting with the world and one's self! In the coming weeks, I'll write more about the Yamas and the Niyamas, and more on specific sutras. There is far too much wisdom held by the sutras to contain it in this little website. If the sutras are of interest to you, I recommend the translation by Sri Swami Satchidananda.
Thoughts from the Mat, 5/03/09
How much is too much?
One of the first questions many people have about yoga is "how often should I practice?" The answer depends upon whom you ask. Bikram says that you should begin by practicing his ninety minute sequence every day for two months! Many others say that at three classes per week you truly will begin to see the benefits. Of course, one class per week will also bring benefits, as will one class per month. Ultimately, you must honor your body. Go to your edge, always remembering that practice is NOT punishment for an inflexible or weak body, it is the reward for your strong will and intention.
In class, too, we often talk about "going to the edge." As in the rest of life, sometimes we must push ourselves beyond our limits to find out just how far we can go. Sometimes we get hurt, and sometimes we find reserves of strength, energy, and determination that we never would have found otherwise. As long as we honor our body and spirit, we can not fail.
Thoughts from the Mat, 4/26/09
Hot Vinyasa vs. Bikram: Which is Harder?
I ran into a Charm City Yoga regular at a Bikram studio recently, and she asked me which practice I thought was more difficult: the hot vinyasa classes at Charm City Yoga, or the Bikram practice? We chatted for a few moments, and found that we came to completely different conclusions. She finds Bikram more difficult because of the intense heat (about 5-10 degrees hotter than a hot vinyasa class) and lack of breaks in the standing series; I find hot vinyasa classes more difficult because they are never the same, always working the parts of the body in a different way, and in a different order.
I was intrigued by the conversation both as a teacher and a student, because the real question is about what it is, exactly, that makes yoga challenging: the physical practice or the mental discipline? As a teacher, I often see people in my classes who have strong, flexible bodies, but still seem to struggle. I also see students whose bodies are tight and for whom the practice requires exceptional physical effort, yet they do not seem to struggle a bit. Most people are somewhere in between, of course, but it is an interesting and timely reminder to me of the many, many reasons why a student may arrive in my class.
As a student, I find it most challenging to surrender to the practice. That is why Bikram is easier for me. I always know exactly where I am in the practice and what is coming next, so the only thing to which I must surrender is the heat. Like Astanga, Bikram draws "type A" personalities who take comfort in the repetition, at the same time competing with themselves to make their practice stronger.
While there are physical breaks in the hot vinyasa practice -and I use the term "break" somewhat loosely, as it can take a long time for downward dog to feel like a break!- vinyasa classes are never the same twice. Even the teacher who teaches the same sequence most classes may change the pace or change the dialogue at any time. I love the variety and creativity of vinyasa classes. Depending on the teacher and the day, some classes are atheletic and fast-paced, some are slow and focused on alignment, and some are a little of both.
For me, hot vinyasa is my first yoga love and great challenge. For others it is a welcome break from an otherwise regimented practice. I look forward to hearing from other students who practice both: which is more challenging for you?
Thoughts from the Mat, 4/19/09
Everyday is Someone's Birthday!
My birthday is this week, and that has me thinking about presents! It is so much fun to hang out with people who are enjoying their birthday; they seem to glow with the good wishes of those around them, and the sure knowledge that gifts await them. How might the world be different if we treated everyone as if it were their birthday every day? This is not to say that we should spend hours every day on facebook, telling people we haven't seen in ten years to have a happy day, but rather that we might carry pure, unconditional good will for all those around us.
Likewise, how different might our own world be if we moved through every day sure in the knowledge that great gifts await us? Not just hoping or praying that good things might come our way, but spending our days in absolute certainty that no matter what, something good must be on the way? How might it change our behavior toward others, and how others perceive us?
This year I am giving myself the gift of openness to the good stuff in the world, the true gifts; wide awake with an open heart I will be certain not to miss them.
Thoughts from the Mat, 4/12/09
Rebirth
Many of us are celebrating Easter and Passover this week. Passover celebrates liberation from slavery, and Easter celebrates Jesus' ressurection, both ideas that tie in beautifully with the practice of yoga. Yoga is, after all, the process of liberation from suffering, a process by which we are born anew in each moment.
The first three yoga sutras teach us that the practice of yoga begins now, in this moment; that suffering is caused by the turnings and chatter of the mind; that bliss is acheived when we are liberated from the turnings and chatter of the mind. On the mat, we learn to notice our thought patterns. We learn where the mind goes when a posture is uncomfortable, when we don't do the posture the way we would like, when we are in a posture we love, and so on. Everything situation our mind could encounter, we encounter on the mat. Which thoughts enslave us? In the story of Passover we learn not only of the Israelites enslavement, but we learn that the Pharoah, too, is enslaved by his desire to control others. When he decides to release others, he is freed from plagues, but as he wavers on his decision, each time he decides that the Israelites should be enslaved, he is once again plagued.
When we free ourselves from the thoughts that enslave us -and our desire to control that which can not be controlled- we are reborn in each moment. Liberated from our ideas about success or failure, and how things should be, we are free to act in union with our source of higher wisdom, whether that is God, Jesus, the universe, the higher self, or simply our own wisest self.
Thoughts from the Mat, 4/05/09
Are You Serious?
Yoga is serious business. It asks so much of us: to let our lives go on without us for ninety minutes while we focus on the body, to do challenging physical work, and if we are practicing in a studio, to hand over some of our money. But, just because we are asked to take the practice seriously, we don't have to BE serious. Yoga may be serious business, but it is also very, very funny. We twist ourselves up into silly shapes and fall over, our bodies make all sorts of weird noises, there is farting and grunting, and after a while, we don't even think twice when the instructor reminds us to "move the flesh out from under the sits bones." Can you imagine what would happen if we did that every time we sat down at the office? Surely we would get a nickname. "Hey, look, it's Assy!" our co-workers would say.
Laughter is marvelous pranayama (breath work). Think of the feeling of laughing so hard that you have difficulty breathing. You've expelled every bit of air from the lungs, and just when you think you can take no more, the muscles in the throat and chest release, and fresh air rushes down into the lungs. If you have done breath work in class that includes kumbhaka (holding) this will sound very familiar! When we do breath work in class, often the goal is to completely empty and fill the lungs. Laughter is a wonderful, spontaneous way to achieve the same results.
So, how to let go? Yoga is such hard physical work, how do we find lightheartedness in the practice? I believe the answer is to examine the difference between effort and struggle. I invite you to scan the body in a posture, noticing the muscles that must be engaged to hold the position safely, and which muscles are engaged needlessly. The muscles that must be engaged - i.e. triceps in warrior 2 - are part of our effort. The muscles that are needlessly engaged -a pained expresion the face, for example- are struggle. They are working against the posture by using energy that could otherwise be engaged in our effort. It is difficult to be lighthearted when we struggle; our achievments will never match the amount of energy we have expended and we will be left feeling depleted. Yet, in our effort we can find lightheartedness, for all is well and our difficult work is well done.
Thoughts from the Mat, 3/30/09
Why have a body?
As we move along a spiritual path, there comes a point when we've heard it so many times: We are not our bodies! The divine rests in the soul! The consciousness of Krishna, Christ, and Buddha reside in theplace of spirit, independent of our physical selves, but part of the greater whole! All is one!
So, knowing that, why should we care about the body?
Our physical bodies allow us to experience all that the world offers, and as individuated selves, we can perceive the divine in others. But most importantly, our bodies are constantly feeding our spirits information about ourselves. Have you ever known some one who seemed perfectly nice, yet every time you saw him, you became tense, felt your blood pressure rise, or got a stomachache? Likewise, have you ever met some one with whom it seemed you had nothing in common, yet you always felt at ease and relaxed in her presence? The body tells us about our world, from the job that seems great on paper but gives us indigestion, to the unlikely partner who makes our adrenaline soar. When we are in tune with the messages of the body, we move through the world with ease; we can really trust our gut!
Through the practice of yoga, which literally translates to "union," we tune into the body. The breath carries us through a practice and quiets the busy mind... usually! We all have days when the mind carries on a mile a minute through the practice, but with diligence, the mind learns to quiet itself a bit at a time. In the stillness of a posture, we notice the body holding on in places that are not necessary, we notice what balance really feels like, and we come to recognize the thought patterns that arise as we face challenging or uncomfortable postures. Out in the rest of the world, off the mat, we start to recognize what we learn on the mat: the rising of tension in the body, the situations that throw us off balance, and the parade of thoughts that consume our attention when we encounter the discomforts of life. Little by little, we come to understand the wisdom of the body, and move through our lives in union with our selves. When we move through our lives in union with ourselves, we move with ease and grace, and we are freed to do the higher work of the spirit.
So why have a body? To do yoga, of course!