The Mind just doesn't "get" Yoga.

Yoga is in a realm beyond words.

For as crazy in love with yoga as I've been, there is a part of me that remains skeptical. Just this morning, I'm embarrassed to say, I had a moment of fear when I wondered, "How am I going to stand in front of those people and teach them yoga." I was in a moment of feeling lost and disconnected, and I was about a block away from the building where I teach my first class of the day. And thankfully, moments later the looks of warm greeting and expectation from the class caused the doubting me to vanish. I was a passionate teacher, and totally into it once I got started.

There is an aspect of yoga (probably the heart of it) that is beyond words. All we really have to offer one another to pass yoga on is technique. Our minds can grasp technique. But what happens when we practice is ultimately beyond ordinary communication. Poetry tries, but only when we see through the spaces that the ideas open up do we get a fantastic glimpse. So, it's not the words of the poetry or the angles of the arms and legs in a yoga pose, but it is where we go from those launch pads of language and form that is so fortifying and affirming.

So I really believe that yoga is beyond the grasp of the thinking mind. And I find it wonderful that I want to talk about it so much. Isn't it strange to want to speak the ineffable?

The transmission of techniques is important. In a recent posts I've talked about my inner conflict with the traditional teachings, and how I've embraced the marketplace of yoga (because that's what I know...). This is another angle: the importance of studying, using, preserving, living and teaching yoga technique. There is something very real and powerful in these techniques for practicing yoga.

It's important to honor the teachings we have because the mind doesn't get it. And when we think that we've "got it" you can be sure that we're in an inflated state, or stuck because yoga is a window into the unknown. If we think that we know the unknown I'm sure that we are really oversimplifying. Labels and definitions help put things into human hands, but there is something about yoga that is beyond what any one person can hold by himself or herself.

I've been extremely fortunate to have studied extensively with the best Ashtanga Yoga and Iyengar Yoga teachers in town. And the situations where I have been so humbly blessed with beautiful experiences have happened when teachers were honoring these techniques for practice that came from India.

The mind can shape the container that yoga goes into, but that's all. The imperfect process of our humanity becomes blessed with yoga, and escapes the container of ordinary mind.

Linda-Sama recently commented on a post, "there is a saying in India: dharma teachings are like a bowl of rice; you pick out the dirt and leave the rest to nourish you."

There are flaws in the teachings, but even so, we might also be nourished by their wisdom.

*simul-posted at Elephant Journal*

Pliable Edges

This week I seek to push against my own edges.

I heard from Rusty Wells that it's worth it: "Most people don't even know where their edge is." This was part of the answer to a question I asked:

What is the relationship between Ahimsa (non-harming) and pushing beyond the limitations of mind in poses?

This question was born out of my experience in his workshop at Moksha Yoga this past weekend: Rusty really encourages people to do more than they think they can, and sometimes it hurts to go beyond what you think you can do. But you don’t know until you try it. And when you do go beyond what you thought you could there is an incredible sense of accomplishment. So the experience was empowering for me, and I was just a bit sore afterwards.

And in life I do tend to enter into experiences that I am familiar with, which is fine. However, I do feel the call to go beyond that, but how?

Rusty also said that he practices before he teaches, and that he pushes himself hard. Otherwise he wouldn’t be okay with telling other people to do this hard work.

Pushing beyond what I know to be limits IS painful and scary. It proves that I don’t really know what I thought I did. But this is the kind of pain and fear that is good. This kind of pain might not be himsa (harmful). In fact it might help me grow beyond my complacency.

How can you even approach going beyond what you think you already know? The easiest way is when someone else takes you there. Like, a yoga teacher might help you to see that you can do a pose that you didn’t think you could.

But in a personal yoga practice, I guess I do it when I listen to the sensations in my body. I tend to get more sore in my personal practice than I do in most classes, and I think it’s because I’m better at being at my real edge in the poses when I’m practicing on my own. I’m also a lot more flexible in my own space and timing.

In meditation, I also seem to get opportunities to see a new angle on things, or when I wake up from a dream I might also have a revelation.

In my daily life I’d like to be better at recognizing the opportunities to see new things in people and places I already know. And I’d like to allow these fresh insights guide me out of my cloying comfort zone. Or more appropriately, I’d like to expand my zone of comfort to include trying more new things. And maybe I can get started by looking for the pliable edges. At the edge I can experience what I know and shift to experience something new, and adapt to that using the language I already am familiar with to start to describe and embrace something new.

Jai! This is how the classes with Rusty Wells ended. It means victory, or right on! Something like that…

Fear. And?

Have you seen the preview to the 2012 movie? It shows glimpses of total catastrophe. Big chunks of city blocks swallowed by the earth... Really scary stuff. Remember when the year 2000 was going to screw up food transportation because of the Y2K computer bug, and our bank accounts were going to get screwed up, etc. Don't we have enough fear without buying into these? I know that fear is incredibly entertaining and a good sales pitch for survival equipment, but don't we have important things to do in life? I know that my body has some kind of expiration date, and I'm grateful for the time I have. And I want to do the best I can.

Instead of encountering fear and stopping, I am trying the "Fear. And?" approach. I feel the prickly and sometimes sickening fear and I ask myself what else is here? There is fear, however can I see something else as well? If I can then a choice presents itself. Do I go with the fear, or do I do something differently? Can I offer a creative or thoughtful solution to the moment, or does the grip of fear run the show?

Fear is incredibly short-sighted. Being present with the here and now is incredibly deep. To get through the current crises we need to be deep. ...not just intellectual, but also deep. Deep including what we know and future and vision, also having a sense of how we got here might help. Who do we want to be? Who are we becoming? How do we move towards a future we want? Do we care enough to make changes?

It's not just distraction that can keep us from doing what is right, it's also fear. A fearful mind state is incredibly narrow. A person who is afraid is trying to survive, and basic instincts take over in survival mode. There isn't the presence of mind for a thoughtful response.

This world calls for a longer view. Give yourself time to release fear and relax in that state. Getting together with others in a yoga class can be a good way to relax into yourself in a way that can allow for this kind of potential to unfold. Let's change the world!

See the fear and also see what else is there. Let's find the creative solutions to personal and collective challenges. We create certain problems together. How can we solve these group effects like global warming, racism, violence, or poverty? How can we bring consciousness to our actions that have personal effects and global implications? Let's do it! Let's make the world a better place together.

The small stuff matters in inner work

The practice of yoga has recently brought my attention to some different layers in my experience. When I am in a yoga class there is what's happening in the present moment: yoga instruction and yoga practitioners, my body, my breath, my sensations, the room, sounds and sights are all there. Then there are also my memories that contribute to the experience, but they can also distract me from it: Memories contribute to my experience when they help me to build my poses, and they distract me when they might take me to a conversation I had just before class. I also might have an emotional response that triggers other thoughts and stories: One time I had a flash of anger come out of a groin opener and shot it at one of the teaching assistants (years ago). And at the time I knew it didn't make any sense to be mad at that person, but at that time I just sat with it, observing, and exerted effort trying not to shoot that person with evil eye beams. Pains can also call one towards thoughts instead of practice: I might feel pain in my foot and spend some psychic time in Jamaica where I injured it years ago.

Each person brings a unique mix of who they are into yoga, including the layers I mentioned above. Sometimes during a class certain aspects of the mix can come out. We might find a hidden tightness and we might find a hidden memory or desire. When we do yoga we are working with the WHOLE PERSON. So don't be surprised when these other aspects come up. They are aspects of who we are.

And just like we all have unique fingerprints, we also have unique patterns of tension in the body and mind. Luckily, there is enough overlap in these patterns so that group classes are useful, and very beneficial. Even so, there are things that are unique to individuals that can be discovered and addressed with yoga. One woman told me that the first time she did Warrior Two, Virabhadrasana II, she had had a strong recollection of physical abuse that she had experienced years earlier. The experience had been so powerful that she was afraid to enter the pose again. We were working individually and she brought up the courage to do it, and this time the pose became empowering.

A man in his seventies and fairly new to yoga, courageously shared that he felt layers of tension and also fear (releasing) in his legs in Supta Padangusthasana II. In yoga we are stretching, and enhancing our alignment and athleticism, but you don't have to look too deep to discover that you are working with much more than that in yoga. Our stories about who we are, both the ones we know about and the ones that we've repressed are written into the structure of our bodies, and when we practice yoga we have an opportunity to read the book of ourselves.

And amazingly, with regular yoga practice we also have the ability to work towards balancing ourselves from this physiological level that also affects emotional and mental aspects of ourselves. Just like a spider builds it's own web, we also have the ability to spin our own stories from the body level. And this internal structure that we learn to build and maintain, sustains us with a sense of continuity as we go through the many changes that life brings. 

With yoga, depressed posture can be transformed by the physiology of optimism with noticeable psychological effects. Traces of anger, gripping the bones together, can be transformed by being attentive to these sensations during practice. By noticing what kinds of attitudes relieve these feelings and which ones exacerbate them we can tinker in our inner workings with a noticeable effect, when we favor the poses and attitudes that go towards the desired effect.

Remember the next time you go to a class that everyone has a unique mix of these layers working in them at any given time. Everybody is a little different. Everyone has unique memories of the past (and judgements based on these memories that may or may not be correct) that affect their bodies and posture. Everybody has hopes and fears about the future. And every person has the ability to heal and move towards a greater sense of well-being: yoga practice is a tool that can be used in this way.

And when we choose this path the "small stuff" does matter. The flashes of fear running through the legs (that might be ignored in certain kinds of situations) can be a revelation. In this case I would say be sure to work with this often. Don't ignore the leg work if you experience the fear there (I feel it, too.). Yoga is an opportunity to relieve that.

Giving up Fear

I’m giving up fear because fear keeps me comfortably stagnated. Familiar and cloying, it’s almost like one of those invisible electric fences that gives a dog a little shock when it’s at the perimeter of the yard, keeping it in. Similarly, fear alters my body chemistry when I’m about to leave my comfort zone. When fear strikes, the space inside my rib cage feels like it is being squeezed by an invisible iron hand. The veins in my arms and legs seem to vibrate and grip, pulsing with sickly nervous tension. It’s as if I’m being transformed into a jerky marionette of my nervous system. And my belly is so unhappy, tight and gassy.

Why go into the unpleasant and uncomfortable fear?

Life inside the fence feels safe, but it’s stifling. Intellectually, I get that it’s not good for me to stay inside my current habits. These habits that I’m looking at were formed around an idea of myself and who I am that is out-of-date. And even though the stakes are high and facing this fear looks intimidating, I’m feeling restless inside my electric fence of fear. I want to live my life, and actively choose direction. I want to do something for my tired self.

A part of me is tired. This part has seen dreams not come true, in sad moments this part has failed. The first draft of life plans was inadequate. But, this is an opportunity for mind over matter. And I bet that if the dog goes far enough past the boundary of the fence, the collar will stop firing. And similarly, I think that if I go far enough out of my comfort zone I will feel exhilarated to freely roam in new territory.

Comfortable stagnation is really not that comfortable.

Being a prisoner of my nervous system is no fun. I can please myself with small treats and known activities. But to grow, I need to find a way to get past the boundary of my own fear.

Fear keeps me safe.

In defense of fear it has kept me safe, and kept my ancestors safe. But in adulthood there is a call to go beyond the narrow yard where you were taught to stay as a child.

Fear keeps me stupid.

In my interactions with others I can get overwhelmed, when I’d like the courage to speak my truth. This is an area where I feel most stupid. I only remember later what it would have been good to say, or I think of a good question I might have asked. But, sometimes I get lost when I’m faced with a new challenge in communication. Or I just get flummoxed.

Going into fear.

A strategy that works is to go into the fearful place with someone else that has been there, and can encourage you to go there, too. At Kripalu there is a wonderful hot tub, and a cold plunge. I was afraid of the cold plunge. I put my toe in there and a calf, but that’s about it. My body tightened on the inside, seeming to say, “no, don’t go there.” I just couldn’t make myself do it. I told a friend about this, and she told me about how great it was to go back and forth between the hot and cold water. And she offered to be my cold plunge mentor because that was how she overcame her resistance to the cold water. I hesitated for a moment because the cold plunge was a small pool, and most of the women bathe naked. I had a little fear about my personal space, but I really wanted to try so I said yes (of course!).

After getting hot in the spacious hot tub, I followed my mentor over to the little cold plunge bath. She went right in, hugging herself and breathing fast, and said something like, “oh my god,” a few times. I went right in, all the way to my neck. I was smiling. And it was so easy with my friend there. I looked into her eyes and felt courageous. It was very cold, but the coldness seemed secondary to teamwork, doing this thing together, and showing that I could do it, too. I was in no hurry to leave, so we stayed a couple minutes. And when I went back into the hot water my body released so much more. It was wonderful! And for the rest of the visit I did the hot tub to cold plunge whenever I could.

When you have to go it alone…

What about something that you have to do alone? Say that there is nobody to hold your hand. What can we do about a fear like this?

I’m actually stuck with this one. But, of course, I have a few ideas. One is to still get support. Sometimes an understanding and affirming listener can be enough to help someone make a change. Another is to decide to do it. When I’m mentally dancing just outside of something I want it is because there is some resistance to doing it. So on some level I have decided not to do it. For whatever reason, I’m telling myself I want some thing, and at the same time am actively resisting the very thing I might say I want. Ugh. What can I do when I suspect that I’m standing in my own way?

Maybe writing about it can help me understand. Perhaps visualizing something good on the other side will help me convince myself that it’ll be okay. Maybe yoga can help me calm my internal riffraff, or breath exercises can calm the fear response. Maybe meditation can help. Therapy? All of the above? Something I’ve missed? Is it a matter of more life experience? You know, as I age maybe I’ll understand better how to manage myself. But, how much longer do I have? Patience. I’ll keep my eyes open, listen to my heart, and do something about it.

Giving up fear.

I suspect that I have to give up my fear to move forward. The fear is likely to continue to show up in my body, but what I can work with is my response to it. So I’m actually giving up the way I cater to it. Do I allow it to wear me out, so I’m too tired to make the changes I want? Do I allow it to keep me away from experiences that might change me? Do I over-eat to escape the physical tension, and numb myself out? Am I to continue to be a slave of fear, a victim terrorized by my own life?

I believe I have a choice about this. Do I have the strength to walk through the door I haven’t opened? Can I go the way that will change my external and internal landscape? Will I approach a vista that I’d never thought I’d see?