Body-Mind-Heart-Soul

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Heart

Perhaps it was the thick blanket of fog that rolled in and covered my neighborhood, obscuring the previously sunny blue sky over the tips of the Golden Gate and the Marin Headlands outside my window yesterday. Or maybe it is the thought of yet another year tacked on to the age I associate with this body, an impending calculation scheduled to come approximately a month from now. Whatever the reason, I have been reflecting with a sense of melancholy on what this all means – this yoga practice, this life. Because of my immersion into the Advanced Studies program at the Iyengar Yoga Institute of San Francisco, I have been asked to ponder what it means to pursue this practice with body, mind, heart and soul fully integrated and this seems like the perfect opportunity.

In order to try to answer this question, I continually come back again and again to sutra II.1: tapah svadhyaya Isvarapranidhanani kriyayogah – the acts of yoga are burning zeal in practice, study that leads to knowledge of the self, and surrender to God.

Stuck in the mire of the day to day, I see that those who are recognized and rewarded around me are not necessarily those who follow this path of yoga – a path that asks the practitioner to seek sauca (purity) and santosa (contentment), among other things that seem at complete odds with how modern society operates. Is it possible to be successful in society and also follow the guidelines set out in the yama (societal discipline) and niyama (individual discipline)? To surrender to God? Do I even want to be deemed successful in the way society prescribes?

Perhaps more to the point, can I truly live in and of this world and find cohesiveness within myself?

In elucidating the practice of asana in Light on Yoga, B.K.S. Iyengar writes:

Where does the body end and the mind begin? Where does the mind end and the spirit begin? They cannot be divided as they are inter-related and but different aspects of the same all-pervading divine consciousness (41).

The way that I interpret this statement is that it is not some lofty goal to reach to integrate body-mind-heart-soul in practice. Through my attempts to maintain tapas (burning zeal in practice) by creating space for asana and pranayama daily, I gain a greater sense of calm in my life. Through my time spent on the mat, I have glimpses of understanding that I can be content, no matter how society defines success – I have great friends and family, a loving husband, a roof over my head, and teachers who help guide me on this journey. Moreover, because I have begun to mine my consciousness for a deeper understanding of what this existence is all about, I have found a spiritual side of myself I never knew was possible before. This kriya yoga (yoga of action) is what allows me to understand that I am already whole within myself, to recognize and celebrate this journey; to be content with what is and what is to be. It is this experiential art that helps me to realize that success in my view is not how other people see me, but how I learn to see myself.

Practicing Yoga: On and Off the Mat (Part III)

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 In Pursuit of Balance

YS I.2

Yoga is the Cessation of the Fluctuations of Consciousness (YS I.2)

Patanjali begins the second chapter of the yoga sutras by further defining yoga for the sadhaka (practioner of yoga), stating: tapah svadhyaya Isvarapranidhanani kriyayogah - the acts of yoga are burning zeal in practice, study that leads to knowledge of the self, and surrender to God (YS II.1). He goes on to say that this practice reduces the five klesas (afflictions) which disturb our consciousness and lead to samadhi (profound meditation or absorption) (YS II.3). So what are these afflictions? Leave it to Patanjali’s highly organized and succinct text to help us out; according to the great sage, the five afflictions are avidya (spiritual ignorance), asmita (ego or I am-ness), raga (attachment to pleasure), dvesa (aversion to pain), and abhinivesa (fear of death or clinging to life) (YS II.3).

Patanjali teaches us that these afflictions bind the seer with the seen. Indeed, for him, they are at the root of this human bondage. Through spiritual ignorance, man is unable to realize his true nature – the soul is eclipsed from view by the false identification of this bodily experience with eternal reality. The sense of “me” as intrinsically linked to the body-mind is problematic, as it directly engenders the last three klesas. If I am only what I see and feel, why should I not want to seek out only desirable experiences and avoid anything that I consider distasteful? What is the point of this life, if not to create a cocoon surrounding this body, to dwell in complete comfort, to protect it from harm and, ultimately, from death? The sage and the adept yogi know, however, that there is more to the cosmos than what our mind’s eye can see.

As sadhakas, our work is to restore balance and equanimity in order to transcend the cycle of human experience. The path of yoga is not an easy one, however, and the klesas creep up on a daily basis in every aspect of our lives, even in our own practice. Each klesa feeds the others, helping the karmic wheel turn again and again.

Several examples come to mind when thinking about the klesas and their role in my own life. In my yoga practice, I tend to gravitate towards asana that come readily to this body I inhabit and attempt to avoid those that do not. I dye my hair, not only for the aesthetics of the lovely colors, but also to hide the grays – a sure sign of my eventual descent into old age and death. In my career, I am fortunate to be treated to fabulous food and wine, which in the moment may be a delicious treat, but create hours of pain at the gym to keep additional pounds at bay. I could go on and on.

Does this mean that I should stop doing asana I prefer to do or stop coloring my hair or forgo the Champagne and caviar? Perhaps. But I am far from an ascetic and, believe me, I would have a long way to go to get there. Yet, yoga has brought about a profound change in me, even though I am still firmly rooted in society. I work on the poses that do not come so easily and seek out the teachers that challenge me. I worry less about the grays and try to keep myself from worrying about my eventual demise (something Patanjali acknowledges is even difficult for the wisest of men). I attempt moderation even during the most delectable of meals.

Through this physical, psychological and spiritual practice, I have come to a deeper understanding of my body and my mind, to find moments of quiet, to know that the vrttis (fluctuations of consciousness) can be stilled. Balance in asana translates to balance in life, reminding me throughout the day that although this life is fleeting, my essential nature is of one at peace. The philosophy is not intellectual, but experiential and it is that experience that keeps me coming back to my mat day after day.

Putting Down the Plastic

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Where the Proverbial Rubber (Yoga Mat) Meets the Road 

Winnie the Pooh 

“What do you like doing best in the world, Pooh?” [asked Christopher Robin]

“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best —” and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called (110).

The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoff

My physical yoga practice has admittedly lapsed over the course of the last two weeks. Between birthdays, family visits and work, among other things, I have just not made time for asana every single day, as I promised myself I would. I could choose to beat myself up over not taking an hour out of my day for something that is so integral to my emotional, physical and spiritual well-being. Or I could choose to look at all the other aspects of the teachings that I carry with me off of the mat and be content with what is, instead of what I wish would be.

In Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, B.K.S. Iyengar writes “As yama is universal social practice, niyama evolves from individual practices necessary to build up the sadhaka’s own character” (144). The five niyama are translated as:

  • Sauca: cleanliness, purity
  • Santosa: contentment
  • Tapas: religious fervor or zeal, a burning desire
  • Svādhyāya: study which leads to knowledge of the self
  • Ishvara Pranidhana: surrender to Ishvara (God)

Of all the niyama, santosa is something that I strive for everyday in all aspects of my life. This can be difficult, as our culture does not support the value of contentment. We are taught from the very beginning of our lives that we should strive to be the best, to make the most money, to have bigger and better things. Indeed, we are rewarded for not being content. If we get good grades in high school and participate in extra-curricular activities, we can go to a top university to get a more highly recognized degree, which theoretically leads to a more successful career path. If we work hard and make goals to get the bonus money, we can buy a new car or house or the latest iGadget. There is always something to be gained in society’s eye by not being content.

Sometimes, however, taking a step back and looking at the abundance around us is a necessary task. There is always something more out there to aspire to, particularly in the internet age, where we are wired and aware of seemingly endless possibilities for consumption. Designer clothes, a “better” body, vacations to exotic locales – our fetishistic society leaves no stone unturned when it comes to creating desire. Trying to keep up with the Joneses (or the Kardashians) very rarely leaves one feeling content with their lot.

This practice of yoga teaches us to have burning zeal (tapas) in our practice, but according to Guruji’s explanation of sutra II.42, santosat anuttamah sukhalabhah, this cannot be achieved without purity and contentment:

From contentment and benevolence of consciousness comes supreme happiness.

Through cleanliness of the body, contentment is achieved. Together they ignite the flame of tapas, propelling the sadhaka towards the fire of knowledge. This transformation, which indicates that the sadhaka is on the right path of concentration, enables him to look inwards through Self-study (svadhyaya) and then towards Godliness (155).

Thus, it is not our desire that leads to the stoking of the flame in our practice, but our ability to be content, which is driven by purity of thought, word and deed.

As I return to my daily asana practice (starting today), I will carry this knowledge with me. I will accept what I cannot change with equanimity and continue to pursue this path with single-minded focus. I will seek the higher self within me, while recognizing that life continues around me. I will attempt to be content with what I have, with who I am, and with what is to be. Perhaps most importantly, I will try to find contentment in the interstitial spaces, where there is time for reflexivity; a moment to be grateful for what is happening in the present moment, regardless of what is to come next.