Are You Missing Your Monkey?

Yoga is composed of eight limbs:

  1. Yama : A system of morality or how we should treat others
  2. Niyama : Personal observances or how we should treat ourselves
  3. Asanas : Body postures, the physical acts that most people associate with the word yoga
  4. Pranayama : Breathing exercises; the control of prana
  5. Pratyahara : Control of the senses; withdrawing from the world of perception
  6. Dharana : Concentration; being able to create a single pointed focus
  7. Dhyana : Meditation
  8. Samadhi : Union with the divine

But, while this is the case, how often do most people who “do yoga” attend to the limbs other than asana?  This is pretty understandable given that the pose part of it is a lot easier to advertise (hot women doing lunges is more sexy than middle aged ladies meditating), and that many people come to yoga through gyms or other “exercise” venues.  But, even experienced yogis can be overly focused on the asana, to the exclusion of the other limbs.  All acts have a multiplicity of consequences.  What are the possible consequences of letting go of all the other limbs to focus on asana?

If all that one wants out of yoga is a workout, then perhaps the exclusive focus on asana means that one gets a much better workout.  So, that might be a positive consequence.  But, I can say from experience that, if you are open to the other facets of yoga, a beginning with focus on the exercise aspect can lead to something different.  So, perhaps only focusing on asana can mean missing an opportunity for growth in other ways.

If an individual is drawn to yoga not only for exercise, but because he/she has heard that it is good for settling the mind and creating more peace in the self, then a devotion only to asana may have different consequences.  Thinking only about the physical (which can be very challenging, even disconcertingly so) might still the mind some during the class or session, but if the goal is only to “get into” complicated poses or have “the best” workout, then the vrtti that come up between classes (“I suck at yoga,” “Maybe if I work harder, I could get into that pose like Bob does,” “What is wrong with my body that my knees won’t bend that way?”) could become even more agitating, rather than less.

For those who are really wanting to achieve yoga – or union – all the limbs are important.  To ignore some (or most) for the sake of few (or one) seems counterproductive to me, but it’s easy enough to fall into.  As a teacher trainee, I’m spending a pretty good amount of time thinking/talking/reading/enacting the other limbs of yoga.  But, even so, I catch myself emphasizing asana to the exclusion of others at times.  This week, I sustained a mild concussion on Monday.  It caused nasty head pain that made asana impossible.  All week, I fussed (internally and externally) about missing yoga.  Missing yoga?  My brain pain wasn’t preventing attention to the yamas, or the niyamas.  It might have been making meditation more challenging and screwing with my ability to withdraw the senses, but those could still be approached.  I could certainly have spent  more time on pranayama.  Yet, for a few days, I cut of my conscious attention to the totality (some of the yamas/niyamas are such habits that they happen regardless of my degree of focus) because of an inability to really do asana.  Yep, I completely ignored what was available to me by focusing only on what was not.  Not cool.

Rarely do we ever create a greater whole by damaging or ignoring some parts.  We can’t make a better community by hurting some members.  We can’t create a better world by ruining some areas.  We can’t make a better life by abusing our bodies.  We can’t have a better yoga by ignoring 7/8ths of what it is.  All is.  ALL is.

Namaste,

L

The Creation of a Yoga Community

I have interesting disclosure habits.  I’ll tell anyone funny stories about my life, but I usually won’t share serious stuff (ok, I’ve been doing it more lately via blogging, but that’s like talking to myself) until I’m comfortable with someone.  And then, Katie bar the door, out it comes.  I have some friends, around whom I feel very comfortable, that I seem to always be spilling a major life issue (sorry folks – you know who you are).  But, one of those very friends was overheard a few years ago telling someone else that I’m “hard to get to know,” because of the aforementioned tendency to share the silly and not the serious.  I have family members who don’t know some rather large parts of my life, because I haven’t ever gotten to a place where I feel ok sharing the “deep/dark” with them.

This being the case, it’s been interesting to watch the changes in my own level of disclosure with my yoga teacher training classmates.  At first, I would happily (maybe overly happily) discuss the readings or yoga philosophy or my experiences in class.  A little later, and I was adding in more about my emotional reactions to the readings and my health challenges.  Recently, I find myself sharing more significant information (we haven’t reached that point where I barely seem to have a verbal governor at all and am apparently ready to bare my soul at the drop of a hat, but who knows).

In one way, I don’t love this, as the disclosure usually makes me feel anxious afterwards, when I’m worrying that I’ve said to much or created an uncomfortable environment for my peers.  But, in another way, I’m pretty stoked.  Clearly, for me, we have created a real community in our yoga teacher training class.  I feel close to my fellow students and like I can trust them – hence the disclosure.  I know that some of it is because talking about yoga philosophy tends to call for discussion and examination of self, but I also see that I could be picking much more “surface” issues to share, and the fact that I’m not says something about the culture of the group.

I could still stand to get over my worry about how I’m being judged, but as I said in my new years revolution post, that’s just an ongoing project for me.  But, that issue aside, this is a pretty cool/interesting phenomenon.  I’m not sure how it’s happening, exactly.  Maybe it’s something about the studio itself.  Maybe it’s this group of people.  Maybe it’s the intensity of being in the training program together.  Maybe it’s that we are all learning a new “language” of yoga/philosophy together and language creates community.  I don’t know (though as a communication studies scholar, I’m finding it all rather interesting), but it’s nifty in any case.

New Year’s Revolution

The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall.
~ Che Guevara

Off topic, but my favorite thing about New Year's Day - The Mummers' Parade!

I’m pretty sure that Mr. Guevara wasn’t talking about what I’m talking about, but I appreciate the sentiment.  If you want a change, you have to enact it; you have to make it happen.  I’m not much for new year’s resolutions, because something about a resolution implies that there is a very specific goal and that if you don’t reach that goal you are a failure – for the year!  I tend to end up just feeling guilty and bad when I make resolutions, because I’m usually trying to make myself do something without changing any underlying thought patterns or ways of understanding the world, and that’s just really difficult to maintain.

So, I’ve decided that instead I’m going to work on a revolution in my thinking.  I’ve been working toward this for a while, but I have a way to go, so a little more dedication to the process can’t possibly hurt.  The revolution I’m looking for is to change my beliefs about how to be in the world – not just be able to say the right thing but to really believe it.  I have always had a tendency to judge myself based on what I thought others wanted from me.  This always made me feel that I hadn’t accomplished enough of done well enough to win the approval of others (emphasis on win).  So, I can’t be skinny enough.  I can’t be attractive enough.  I can’t be a good enough scholar (despite 18 years of school).  I can’t be a good enough researcher.  I can’t be a good enough wife, mother, daughter, friend.  I can’t be effective enough at administration.  I can’t be zen enough or a “real” yogi.   Each milestone I reach, I decide isn’t really the important one (get the MA, now the PhD, now tenure, now a promotion, now another promotion, chair a department, become the dean, not enough!).  That’s a lot of failure and doesn’t really bring me happiness.

I need a new way of thinking.  I know what it is, because I talk about it on this blog a lot and I read about it in texts about yoga, philosophy, and life.  I need to appreciate not just the beauty and wonder of others, but also of myself.  I need to believe that I am enough.  I think this is going to require a shift in my underlying impetus for action.  I guess, sometimes, people need to adjust their impetus to be more about what they can do for others.  I believe that I should move the other direction and think more about how to be the healthiest me – not what I believe other people want (which is probably not even true).

How will this play out?  Ideally, I’ll worry less about my weight and appearance and more about feeding and caring for my body in a way that makes it healthy.  I’ll stop judging my yoga practice and just practice.  I will enjoy my life as wife and mother and friend and not berate myself for the things that I’m not in those areas.  I’ll do the best job I can at work and then I’ll let it go.  And, if I can make this change in the way that I think about my being, I’ll be a more settled person and the better energy I’ll give back to my relationships and to the universal connection.

This is a process, however, and I’m not going to insist that I have to “get there” in order to “succeed,” because each step is a step, right?  As a wise man has said:

Achieving genuine happiness may require bringing about a transformation in your outlook and way of thinking.
~ Dalai Lama