Now

Atha yoganushasanam is the first of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras.  It means something like, “Now begins the instruction of yoga.”  Swami Venkateshananda explains that atha doesn’t just mean now but indicates some auspiciousness, that now is the moment when everything comes together to make this explication of yoga possible. It occurred to me the other day that the other important meaning of the word atha or now in this sutra is that now is the only thing—we can only learn about yoga in this present moment.  We have to be here now (to quote an oft-quoted book title) in order to do anything, including studying or practicing yoga.

When I was driving home a couple of days ago from the Samarya Yoga Teacher Training, I got frustrated with a few drivers and even passed some cars on the two-lane road. At some point, I was driving behind a black car, maybe a Trans Am (if people still drive those). I think I was off-and-on irritated with the driver’s driving who sometimes put on the brakes for no apparent reason, but mostly I was thinking about all kinds of things, about the training, about this blog, about yoga and probably all kinds of other mundane things. Then, the car in front of me braked again and I braked and said out loud, “What the f**k?” And then the driver put his arm out the window and flipped me off. And it was a quick trip back to NOW. I suddenly realized how unpresent I had been.  I will admit that I occasionally tail someone who is not driving according to my standards, but in this instance, I actually had no idea I was being a pain in the ass to this driver in front of me—I was just off in my own little world. And then I had the opportunity to wake up.  I was back in the now and I was grateful for that.

I Don't Feel Like It, Part 2

I bought some peaches this week. Like many fruits, peaches are usually not ripe when you buy them, then they are ripe for a limited amount of time, and then they are not good anymore. I, personally, am pretty picky about my fruit ripeness, so my ideal window of opportunity can sometimes be small. It’s possible that “I don’t feel like” eating the peach when it is ripe.  What occurred to me today when I was eating the last perfect peach is that when I eat that perfect peach at the right time, I am not going to have a bad experience—it is delicious. If I don’t eat it then, I miss the chance forever (either I won’t eat it at all or I eat it and it isn’t very good). Now, nevermind being wasteful and the starving children in Africa—I bought the peach because I like peaches, so who is it that doesn’t feel like eating it? By having “my” ideas about the right time for things, I end up not being in sync with life’s right time for things. This little separate self thinks it’s got a better idea than life. Yoga says this is the main cause of suffering—avidya (ignorance). When I know am part of life and I am in the flow with life, then I don’t need to worry about when I do or don’t feel like doing something, I just do what life shows me to do.

I Don't Feel Like It

Today I went to a flying trapeze class! Long ago, I bought a groupon and it was about to expire, so this week I finally got around to registering for class. This morning, as I was driving there, I was wondering why I was doing it.  The impulse I had felt way back when, when the offer arrived in my inbox, was long gone and I was definitely having an “I don’t feel like it” moment. I was going, but I wasn’t really feeling too excited and kind of thinking I’d rather just laze around at home.

And then (of course), it was totally fun.

I think I should just always be on the lookout for “I don’t feel like it.” Now, I was just thinking of this on the way home from the class today, so I haven’t done a full investigation. I’m not exactly sure what the whole process is and what’s going on, but I have reason to believe that when I’m hearing that kind of whiny voice in my head saying “I don’t feel like it,” at the very least, I need to at least check it out, try to see what’s happening. I suspect that a lot of the time it doesn’t have much to do with what I do or don’t want to do, but maybe has more to do with resistance or conditioned mind trying to talk me out of something. “I don’t feel like it” seems like it is more of a mental conversation than an actual feeling, at least some of the time. There is definitely more looking to do here (svadhyaya or self-study). I’m sure I’ll have another opportunity soon—maybe when it’s time to vacuum!

A Cup of Tea

I used to drink a cup of black tea with sugar and half and half pretty much every morning. Like many coffee drinkers, it was part of my morning ritual—the smell, taste and process of making my tea were all comforting in a way. When I started the elimination diet, I cut out sugar, dairy and caffeine, so that was it for my morning tea. I tried herbal teas, but they just didn’t do the same thing, plus it’s “summer” so the hot beverage wasn’t quite so important. There was so much adjustment at first that I didn’t pay much attention to the tea aspect of things.

Eventually, as things got more settled and re-calibrated, I realized that I did miss my tea and set out to find some sort of suitable substitute. After trying a variety of alternative sweeteners and dairy substitutes, as well as green tea, black tea and decaffeinated black tea, I think I am accepting the fact that my cup of tea might be a thing of the past. This final conclusion happened just this morning right about the time I was opening up my laptop. I made a cup of assam (my favorite black tea) and used a dollop of heavy whipping cream (my naturopath said though she doesn’t do dairy, she does this one thing in her tea in the morning and something about how since it’s pretty much all fat, it’s not so bad) and some honey (because the thing I can’t do, I think, is go back to having refined sugar every morning).

And it’s just not the same. It might be the sugar, but I actually think my taste for the tea has changed. I couldn’t even drink the whole thing. So once again, I am faced with the difference between reality and my idea of reality or how I think it should be or something like that. Rather than continuing to remember how my tea used to be, it’s time to refer to my more current experience. So as in the last post, I am thinking about how things change. Things change and it is my job to let them change—neither pushing nor resisting.

I am reminded of another thing Sonia said in that workshop. Sutra 2.1 (tapah svadhyaya ishvarapranidhanani kriyayogah) is often interpreted as something like yoga is practiced through effort, self-study and surrender. Sonia’s teacher, Desikachar, says instead, “act, observe, be open.” I have found this so helpful. The be open part asks us to allow the results of what we do to be what they are. Simple and straightforward instructions for life. I guess I am done longing for my old experience with tea.

The In-Between

We all know change is inevitable and yet we often resist.  There have been changes aplenty for me in the last year and I am finding that, counterintuitively, one of the things that helps is a willingness to be in the in-between place.  A friend recently shared a sort of mantra, I think from Joan Boryensko, “No longer and not yet.”  That’s a good one—how do we let go of something when we don’t know for sure what is coming next?

It seems like at least part of the difficulty has to do with identity.  Ego (ahankara or asmita) likes to say, “I am . . . ” or “I do . . . ”  The more ego turns something into an identity, the harder it is to let things change.  Lately, I’ve been thinking about this in relationship to how I eat.  A few months ago, I decided to do an elimination diet to see if I have any food sensitivities.  Pretty soon, I was getting used to eating very differently than I had been and even though I didn’t find anything dramatic, I was feeling pretty good and it just seemed to make sense to keep going.  It seems to me that if I had held on to my old identities as someone who eats dairy or sugar or whatever, I may have reverted back as soon as the official elimination protocol was done.  Then the diet change becomes an aberration, just a thing I did.

The other side would be to create a whole new identity as someone who is “gluten-free” or “vegan” or whatever, which doesn’t really feel right.  I don’t know how long I will eat this way.  I didn’t set out to become something different.  I mostly just think, “This is how I’m eating right now” and that seems true.

I went to a workshop with Sonia Nelson recently that was about change and she was talking about Sutra 2.15 and saying that one of the ways change causes suffering is when it is happening too quickly or too slowly.  And I wrote it down, even though it seemed not that earth-shaking to me.  But maybe this is getting at the same thing.  If I am holding on to an old identity, then the change feels too fast for me.  If I am grasping after or trying create a new identity, then the change feels too slow.  If I can allow myself to be in the in-between, then the change can go at the speed it wants to go and I have time to adapt and to actually see what is happening instead of trying to control it.

Blame No One

In November, 2011, Amma came to visit the US.  She comes every November and just makes a couple stops (not like her huge summer tour), but as 9/11 had just happened, we weren’t sure she would be able to come.  But she did.  During the retreat’s Q&A, I think someone asked about the situation and she said, among other things, “Blame no one.”  I have remembered that sentence clearly ever since.  Blame no one.

At 6pm this past Sunday, I was standing at the Snohomish Little League field.  It took me an hour to get there (including the time I spent lost) and, much to my dismay, when I looked around, I saw no purple uniforms anywhere.  Which means my nephew’s all-star team wasn’t there.  I called my mom only to find out not only was at this field at the wrong time, I had missed another game that was actually closer to home.  There was a wave of sadness followed by a wave of anger.  I was very frustrated.  But somehow, I didn’t go to blame.  I didn’t blame my mom, myself or anybody else.

I could see quite clearly what my part in it was.  I had completely misinterpreted the text message my mom had sent by making assumptions and I didn’t reply.  In that moment, I saw how I often don’t respond to others’ communications in a timely way or at all and how that causes difficulty (always easier to see when it causes difficulty for me).  But it didn’t need to be my “fault.” 

There is a difference between blame and responsibility.  Not blaming doesn’t eliminate responsibility; it’s just that there are usually so many factors involved in any one thing happening that it just doesn’t really make sense for it to be all somebody’s fault.  It makes it seems like we have more control than we do.  But I can see my part—I can see how I contributed.  And in a weird way, that actually feels good (as opposed to blame, which pretty much always feels bad).  When something happens and I ask “What’s my part in this?” I can learn something.  So not blaming seems like one of the many ways to practice ahimsa (non-violence), which allows us to practice svadhyaya (self-study) because it is so much easier to look at myself when I'm not going to get hit with blame, shame and judgment.

Delusional

Sometimes I can hardly bear being at the gym.  There are lots of things there that might cause this reaction, but the thing that drives me nuts is seeing all the crazy things people do thinking that they are getting a better workout.  Putting extra weight on the machine, more resistance on the stairmaster, more incline on the treadmill, then contorting themselves into weird positions to make it work.  It just seems delusional.  And, sadly, it seems so darn representative of the general delusional nature of our society—just a giant disconnect in the quest for results.

So the question this brings up for me is “where am I delusional?”  I too have blindspots where I am contorting myself into false realities—where are they?  When I start looking, I feel like I see them everywhere.  Virtually all the time, I am thinking that something should be different than it is.  It is quite incredible how little time I spend in the reality of the present moment.  I should be happier, I should have more clients, I should write more, my marriage should be different, I should wake up earlier, I should have gone for a bike ride instead of coming to the gym.  This is delusion—I just looked it up in the dictionary.  Delude means to deceive the mind.  Delusion means a false belief or opinion.  Since the Buddha and the ancient yogis talk about delusion, we can know that it something that we humans do, but it does seem like perhaps Americans have taken it to a whole new level (watch the movie Inside Job about the 2008 financial fiasco if you’re not sure).

I do like having a visual though.  When I catch myself shoulding, I can picture those folks at the gym and remember how ridiculous it is to deny reality.