Be Not Deprived.

Photo: Helga Weber

In every moment of every day, we have a myriad of options for what to do. Even if highly constrained (let’s say bedridden for a day), we have choices about what to watch, what to read, what to think, etc. Every selection we make is also a deselection of all other available options. Every choice to do something is a choice not to do 1000 other things.

Most of the time, this passes without notice. But, in times where we feel that our choice is somehow limited, we focus more on the “not doing” than on the “doing.” We end up at work thinking, “I could be home right now, but I have to do this stupid work.” Or we are at home thinking, “I could be out with friends right now, but I’m stuck here.” We go on a diet and spend our time noticing that we “can’t have” a brownie or a cookie or chips. We are in a yoga class and thinking about that we can’t go into the advanced version of the pose or can’t get the bind. And so on, and so on.

In my yoga classes this month at Yogawood, we’ve been focusing on the yoga sutra, “Vitarka-badhane prati-paksha bhavanam,” which more or less means “When disturbed by disturbing thoughts, think of the opposite.” This certainly can be applied to the issue of focusing our attention on what we are not doing/having, rather than what we are doing/having.

The idea relates very well to the way that most of us understand our food consumption. We put an incredible amount of attention (individually and culturally) on what we can’t/shouldn’t/don’t eat. We ascribe to diet plans that are plans of exclusion (“no carbs,” “no fat,” “no meat,” “no sugar”) and celebrate our ability to not consume XYZ. It’s no wonder that many people find themselves unable to maintain such plans, as the very focus of the experience is on deprivation.

A noted scholar of communication, anthropology, and sociology, Gregory Bateson, wrote that “the only way to achieve a proposition which contains its own negation (“I will not bite you,” or “I am not afraid of him”) is by an elaborate imagining or acting out of the proposition to be negated.” That is, the only way we can think about, or accomplish, that which we are not doing is to think about doing it. So, when we focus on not eating carbohydrates, or not having fat, or not consuming animal products, we spend much time thinking about carbohydrates, fat, and animal products that we could be eating. And then we spend much time feeling deprived.

It’s a tough nut, because we are so conditioned to think about things this way, to focus on the “not.”

In diet, the “get around” for this is to put our attention firmly on what we are doing, or eating, or preparing. There is nothing wrong with enjoying food. That’s why we have tastebuds. Sure, food is our fuel, and that’s important. But, it’s not just our energy source. It’s a sensory pleasure. It’s a point of connection with others. It’s an opportunity for play, exploration, and delight. Food shouldn’t be an experience of deprivation. It should be an experience of joy and possiblity.

The first time that I tried to be a vegetarian, it didn’t go very well. I was pretty miserable. I couldn’t stop thinking about the coney dog that I couldn’t have, or the tuna salad that I would be eating if I could. It was not good. The second time, something clicked and I started to really investigate all the possibilities of  vegetarian cooking. I discovered vegetables that I didn’t even know existed and new ways of cooking things that I didn’t think I enjoyed. I got excited about the colors on my plate and how textures of food could combine. It made all the difference.

But even now, there are times that my mind wants to turn to what I “cannot” have. This most often, these days, crops up in the form of desserts or “junk” food. I’ll still sometimes tune into my thoughts and notice that I’m busy internally grousing and wishing (for a candy bar, or a piece of cheesecake, or a plate of fries). What I’m trying to do is to cultivate the opposite by:

1) reminding myself that the way I eat is a choice “to,” not just a choice “not to” – if I want to go back to eating ice cream, I can. That choice is still available to me. Of course, I would have to live with the physical consequences, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the choice. No vegan police will come and arrest me if I eat a slice of cheese.

2) having something that I enjoy in those moments and focusing on it, so that I don’t feel deprived. If I want a brownie, I’ll go make a chocolate banana shake. Nope, it’s not as nutritious as a kale salad, but it’s tasty, and it’s not going to hurt me, and it means that I get to spend that time cultivating my feelings of joy, not of deprivation. If I want a cup of coffee and it’s 9:00 at night, I make a cup of decaf or some hot soy milk. If I want some fries, I put some in the oven. I’ve found that, generally, if I eat this way, my diet evens itself out eventually. I may go through a few days where I eat way more simple carbs than is a good idea. But, then I’ll spend some time looking at recipes or blogs with pictures of amazing vegetable and fruit dishes, and before long those are what I’m wanting and things start to come back to balance.

This principle can be applied to exercising (instead of thinking “I can’t run,” I try to focus on “I can do yoga”), abilities (not “I’m not good at small talk,” but “I enjoy listening”), and so on. I spoke about this same idea in regard to understanding of the self last week in my post I Am Worthy. There are always ways to think about what we can/are doing positively instead of simply focusing on what we cannot or are not doing.

If you read this blog regularly, or even if you read it irregularly but read the last post and this one, you know that I’m not always able to do this, but I am trying (see what I did there?).

You can too. Be not deprived.

I Am Worthy.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
~ Eleanor Roosevelt

I, mostly always, have a mantra for my meditation and yoga practice. It’s often based on what the instructor is discussing that day. Sometimes it’s more about getting my head in the right space (“be here,” “let go,” “stay in the now”). But, sometimes it’s about an issue that I’m dealing with or that someone I know (or don’t know) is dealing with (yeah, I’m going to go ahead and end on a preposition there).

Lately, I’ve had a little issue with not feeling like I’m worthy of love, attention, respect, reward, affection, membership, and so on. In my head, it sounds a little like, “Well, of course ______ wouldn’t want me to ________, because I’m not good enough at ___________.”  It’s delightful. And, it makes me more than a little whiny, which I notice, and then that feeds right back in, “Well, of course _____ wouldn’t want to be around me, I’m whiny.”  See, a nice little circle of self-disparagement.

It doesn’t matter that I know what I have accomplished in my life, or the titles that I have behind my name, or even the nice things that other people say to me. That little slightly mocking voice in the back of my head wants to tell me that I’m not enough. Simultaneously, there is another part of me that sings out that I am enough. I am plenty.

I wish I could show you, When you are lonely or in darkness, The astonishing light of your own being.
~ Hafiz

For this reason, my mantra of late has been, “I am worthy.” I don’t fill in the rest on purpose, but sometimes it comes. I am worth of my own respect and my own love.

You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love & affection.
~ Buddha

I am worthy of my own attention. I am worthy of my own acceptance, and I don’t need to be loved – or liked or respected – by everyone else. I need to provide that for me, because I am worthy.

To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.
~ Thich Nhat Hanh

It’s not easy. I am admittedly someone who strives to be “good.” And when I think I’m not, I can get pretty sad about it. But, somewhere in the back of my head, I know that I can’t be good at everything, and I don’t have to. I don’t need to be someone else besides who I am.

The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself. ~Lao-Tzu

And if anyone doesn’t get that, whether it’s me or someone else, then that person should just hush up. Or should just take the judgment elsewhere. Because, I am worthy.

And so are you.

Not Now, Fear.

Photo: Francesco Rachello

Fear is a subject that comes up more than once in a while in yoga practice, particularly in the practice of asana. Just this week, I’ve heard yoga students say that they were afraid of handstand (multiple times), headstand, pinca myurasana, and arm balances. And, I have only been at three classes so far! I’ve written in the past about fear and backbends, fear of falling, and fear about having a different teacher, so I’m certainly not unfamiliar with having fear in the practice.

In all of these situations, it’s not the “thing itself” that we are afraid of, it’s some potential future outcome. Jiddu Krishnamurti said it clearly in On Fear:

Fear is never an actuality; it is either before or after the active present. When there is fear in the active present, is it fear? It is there and there is no escape from it, no evasion possible. There, at that actual moment, there is total attention at the moment of danger, physical or psychological. When there is complete attention there is no fear. But the actual fact of inattention breeds fear; fear arises when there is an avoidance of the fact, a flight; then the very escape itself is fear.

That is, fear is about what will happen, or maybe what has happened, but not so much about what is happening. This isn’t so surprising when you think about it. When real danger presents itself, something big like a child struggling in deep water, you aren’t fearing, you are acting. You are moving and taking steps to deal with the situation right then. But, when the danger isn’t present, sometimes we think about the danger and then we think about the potential outcomes (the child will be injured or worse) and that is where the fear arises.

In our asana practice, we may feel fear when we think about a particular pose or type of pose, but it isn’t about the pose. It is about some potential outcome we imagine might occur, and based on associations with the past, we have labeled that outcome bad.

Thus, fear of handstand or headstand is not about the pose, it is about possible outcomes of falling out of the pose. One might fear injury (though, realistically, your most important parts are closer to the ground than when standing), embarrassment, or to appear incapable. My fear of backbends isn’t about backbends, really. Because they make me feel slightly breathless, some part of my brain connects it to moments of claustrophobia and then I become anxious about not being able to breathe, or something (I’m still figuring that out).

So, what does this all mean for us and our practices? Well, I don’t think it means we can get rid of fear. It is part of the animal condition (some might say human animals only, but I’m not so sure about that). And even if we could get rid of fear, I don’t think we should. Fear can be useful. It prevents us from making bad choices sometimes.

What we can learn to do is sit with the fear and try to work through what it is really about. When the fear arises, we can ask the self, “What is actually going on here?”  We can consider whether the outcomes we are worrying about are likely, are truly dangerous, or are more related to ego or superstition. This won’t necessarily remove the fear for good, but it can help us to work through that situation, or to decide not to.

Maybe this means that in one class, I say, “Ok, I won’t get stuck in this backbend and I won’t be without air, so I am going to go ahead and do it.” And then in the next class I might decide that I’m just not in a good place that day to forge ahead. But, at least the reflection gives me the opportunity to make the choice and to try to really respond to what is happening.

Namaste,

L