The outside world seems to present me with reflections of my inner self. Surrounded by a deeply snowy landscape in Upstate New York, I can feel the sequence of events, like a 3-part (Dirgha) breath. As with the breath, I can take it either way top to bottom, or bottom to top. I can move from the top surface light powder that overlays a heavy crust, below this is two-to-three feet of soft moist snow, resting on the underlayer of crusted ice that presses on the wet and yet solid surface of flattened greens holding tight with their roots in the semi-frozen ground. Or I can begin from underneath taking the reverse: the slushy greens softening under several feet of fluffy blue-white yet heavier-by-the-day snow, compressing at the top edge by the weight of a slick hardened crust and topped with a dusting of delicate bright white snowy filigree. As I shovel, I run into all of it.
Sometimes I penetrate from the top, cracking the crust before shoveling in stages through the deep snow, and finally ramming the shovel below the deepest crust into the softening mush in an effort to clear the surface. Sometimes I begin at the bottom, wedging my shovel's edge as deeply under the whole thing as I can and try to remove the support of the deep half-frozen slush so that the whole depth begins to loosen, crack and fall in chunks that are manageable to lift with my shovel.
Early morning yoga practice is sometimes so much like shoveling this nearly 4 feet of snow from the edges of the curving, sloping drive. I want to clear a wider path, make movement possible. I know there is more here than I can deal with all at one time. My perseverance, breath and lightness of heart will help me. There are layers that resist, sometimes crumbling in large chunks to reveal the deep softness within, only to find that there is another hardened layer made by hidden melts and freezes and solidified in the darkness. My back is already getting worn from the efforts. Yoga shines the light there. Turns out there is slush below that. And with careful, mindful breath, I just might find the effortless effort that loosens that deeper crust, reveals the vivid green lushness of grass and wild weeds long weighted down. What happens next? Savasana takes me deeper still where I rest, leaning on my shovel, reveling in my beating heart, eyes watering and blinking in the sun's light on the snow.
And lest anyone think that this has to be all about physical effort and endurance, I have found it even more challenging in my sitting meditation practice! That soft layer runs right into the crust of my open mind wandering mind in either direction, so my focused one-pointed shovel of attention must be steady in its work.
Showing posts with label Tapas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tapas. Show all posts
Friday, March 5, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Just As it Is
I've just returned from traveling for a few days, taking my monthly visit to check in with my elderly family members in another state. These trips are squeezed in between my teaching commitments, and packed with emotional, administrative, and unexpected events. This trip I found that I managed to check off all the to-do items, and stayed available and open for the relational parts of the visiting. Lately I've been finding it easier and easier to take things as they are, to see the excuses and simply not make them. This has felt really good. Accepting that I have made choices, rather than finding ways to explain to myself (or others) the why or why nots of all the resulting situations or conditions. Who knew that this would also save me a lot of energy, making me feel less weary and more available even when I am just as "busy?" It has also reduced the sense of pressure on me, results in much less of the emotional backlash behaviors like argumentativeness or over eating, and helps me keep myself rested and ready for what is there to be done or felt.
This new sense of freedom has evolved recently even more as I've been exploring the Niyama of Tapas (discipline and purification through inner heat), one of the principles of yoga (see recent blogs on this subject). I find that I can act upon my intentions, giving myself what I need, without making excuses or needing any rationales. I was able to simply include a short yoga practice in every day even with travel and many demands on my time. This helped me to be more rested, more receptive, and much less judgmental. It was as though I've been strengthening and developing my muscles of action rather than those qualities of judgmental mind that bring endless comparisons and projections. This seems to also liberate my ability to work within much more realistic time frames, and establish more achievable goals. I am amazed.
Openness to inner discipline also directly relates to all the other yogic principles of the Yamas and Niyamas (see recent blogs)... Saucha (purity) and Asteya (non-stealing), Satya (truth) and of course Santosha too (contentment). When we let ourselves be truthful rather than explaining, restrain from taking that which is not ours to take (like the attention of others to our point of view), clear out the clutter of misrepresentation and judgment (all the justifications and should, would, coulds) and allow contentment with what actually is (finding gratitude and joy), well, we no longer need to hide behind the excuses and rationales that explain the choices we make. We know that we are responsible for the choice and act, even if it is a correction of a prior act.
I could also title this thought "Trkonasana," since triangle pose embodies a combination of truth, discipline, nonjudgment and awareness. Like life itself, it is a balancing act, a serious stretch, opening on one side making new internal space, and by necessity yielding into the strength required. Finding triangle can begin in any moment, since it evolves out of a steady foundation, an elongated, integrated and soft spine, and a steady and unified sense of energy in the breath that moves between earth and sky. In any given day my body opens to Trkonasana to its own degree, the breath flows the length of me, my spine releases or clenches, my feet feel firm and easy on the earth or I may be shaky and off balance. I love discovering my true self in this way, never knowing what the moment will be until I am that moment. Triangle offers every possibility boiled down, what actually is so in that breath. And even the one inhale does not predict what might be possible in the next. I laugh at the joy of discovering revolved triangle emerging - twisted and reversed - or at literally falling to the mat out of triangle on one side as though the world was turning just a little too fast for me that day. Simply being makes self criticism unnecessary. Any asana can offer the same exploration; and endless understandings come through the practice.
Discipline and honesty are a beautiful combination on the path to truth and contentment, but you can take the path from any direction. Exploring contentment will take you perhaps by different turns and twists, to clarity and ease of judgment. I've learned to be curious rather than afraid of these big concepts. They are just what you discover in them. And the more I explore, the more I discover. I don't spend time worrying about what I don't know, because the vastness of that would paralyze me. I simply keep wondering "what is this?" and investigate, finding that the inquiry itself is liberating me to see more and more "just as it is."
This new sense of freedom has evolved recently even more as I've been exploring the Niyama of Tapas (discipline and purification through inner heat), one of the principles of yoga (see recent blogs on this subject). I find that I can act upon my intentions, giving myself what I need, without making excuses or needing any rationales. I was able to simply include a short yoga practice in every day even with travel and many demands on my time. This helped me to be more rested, more receptive, and much less judgmental. It was as though I've been strengthening and developing my muscles of action rather than those qualities of judgmental mind that bring endless comparisons and projections. This seems to also liberate my ability to work within much more realistic time frames, and establish more achievable goals. I am amazed.
Openness to inner discipline also directly relates to all the other yogic principles of the Yamas and Niyamas (see recent blogs)... Saucha (purity) and Asteya (non-stealing), Satya (truth) and of course Santosha too (contentment). When we let ourselves be truthful rather than explaining, restrain from taking that which is not ours to take (like the attention of others to our point of view), clear out the clutter of misrepresentation and judgment (all the justifications and should, would, coulds) and allow contentment with what actually is (finding gratitude and joy), well, we no longer need to hide behind the excuses and rationales that explain the choices we make. We know that we are responsible for the choice and act, even if it is a correction of a prior act.
I could also title this thought "Trkonasana," since triangle pose embodies a combination of truth, discipline, nonjudgment and awareness. Like life itself, it is a balancing act, a serious stretch, opening on one side making new internal space, and by necessity yielding into the strength required. Finding triangle can begin in any moment, since it evolves out of a steady foundation, an elongated, integrated and soft spine, and a steady and unified sense of energy in the breath that moves between earth and sky. In any given day my body opens to Trkonasana to its own degree, the breath flows the length of me, my spine releases or clenches, my feet feel firm and easy on the earth or I may be shaky and off balance. I love discovering my true self in this way, never knowing what the moment will be until I am that moment. Triangle offers every possibility boiled down, what actually is so in that breath. And even the one inhale does not predict what might be possible in the next. I laugh at the joy of discovering revolved triangle emerging - twisted and reversed - or at literally falling to the mat out of triangle on one side as though the world was turning just a little too fast for me that day. Simply being makes self criticism unnecessary. Any asana can offer the same exploration; and endless understandings come through the practice.
Discipline and honesty are a beautiful combination on the path to truth and contentment, but you can take the path from any direction. Exploring contentment will take you perhaps by different turns and twists, to clarity and ease of judgment. I've learned to be curious rather than afraid of these big concepts. They are just what you discover in them. And the more I explore, the more I discover. I don't spend time worrying about what I don't know, because the vastness of that would paralyze me. I simply keep wondering "what is this?" and investigate, finding that the inquiry itself is liberating me to see more and more "just as it is."
Monday, February 15, 2010
Tapas -the Niyama of Heat, Cleansing & Discipline
Tapas may mean small amounts of amazingly delicious foods to some, or heat and effort to others, but to a yoga practice Tapas is one of the observances, one of five Niyamas, and part of the underlying structure of the practice. What does this mean? It represents the cleansing qualities of heat in the body, an openness to being beyond what might seem to be one's limitations, and the commitment to the discipline of our practice. It is a particularly delicious idea for the middle of winter, the way that we can build heat within us, sustain our practice with the integrity of our commitment, and find new space, understanding and peace as we burn off the impurities and lean more deeply into what is available to us. It is a way of guiding our exploration on the mat in the context of transformation and changes our sense of ourselves off the mat. If you haven't run into yourself blocking and weaving on the mat before, you will now. Recognizing and breathing through those obstacles in yourself, you can access what lies beyond them in your practice and in your life.
The pieces of the puzzle of yoga are called the eight limbs or the eight-fold path, representing principles and stages of being. The Asana practice is one of these limbs, as is Pranayama, the breath practice. The abstinences (Yamas) and observances (Niyamas) represent two of the limbs. Sensory withdrawal and the interior qualities of the mind is Pratyahara, single-pointed focus and concentration is Dharana. Meditation and being one with contemplative nature is Dhyana and the identification with the infinite that is bliss or nirvana is Samadhi. That's the eight fold path, short version! Patanjali, the ancient sage, describes the practices and stages of yoga in detail in his Yoga Sutras. There are many translations from the Sanskrit out there if you want to go deeper.
The cold wind, the blowing snow flurries seem to encourage beginning with Tapas. Shake off the lethargy, reignite your inner fires, give yourself a few more minutes to call out the heat of the sun in your own asana practice! Perhaps it is through a moving meditation in honor of your spine or the sun, perhaps it is through a layer of Kapalabhati breathing in Utkatasana (chair/fierce pose) or in a backbend like Ustrasana (camel) or Setu Bhandasana (Bridge), or just in taking on the challenge of making space for ten minutes of meditation morning and evening, you can raise the heat, raise the internal bar, observe the barriers you find as you allow them to become transparent and eventually burn away in the heat of your own prana (life energy). This is not competitive, nor is it aggressive energy. Discover the depth of your own quiet pool of strength in the middle of a cold winter day.
The two limbs of the Yamas and Niyamas each have five concepts, yet they all lead to one another. It really doesn't matter which one you begin to explore, you will find your way through them all eventually. Tapas leads to purity (Saucha) and truth (Satya), cannot really exist without letting go of gripping (Aparigrapha) or leaving be that which is not really yours (Asteya); must be nonviolent at its core (Ahimsa), observing of the true self (Svadhyaya), evolving a deep and abiding contentment (Santosha), connecting to the divine and eternal (Ishvarapranidhana) and even provoking a sense of conservation of deep energy and restraint (Bramacharya). These are the rest of the abstinences and observances. See if you can feel out which are abstinences that direct your relational behaviors, and those which are observances that apply to your internal structures. Tapas is one of the latter. (You can also revisit my blog entry from 12/25/2009 "Yamas & Niyamas: One Thing Leads to Another" to help sort this out.)
In Patanjali's Sutras he specifies that there are obstacles in the path of a yoga practitioner. Perhaps you can imagine that you see these obstacles in your path and step over some of them, yet you stub your toe on another. To take them on, try investigating Tapas, allowing your inner heat to sweat out illness, your breath to cleanse a negative attitude and recharge. As you practice Tapas, you may stop feeling sorry for yourself, or doubting your abilities. Perhaps your tendency to distraction or impatience will release into the fires of holding a pose or staying in meditation. Stay with it, let the puppy off the lease and wait til she comes back to lie down by the door. False concepts of self, like arrogance or its partner insecurity, will let go as you find the breath can support you as you actually are. In order to focus the mind, open to the fullness that is emptiness in meditation, and become one with your own essential nature and life energy, something has to change from just sitting in your chair wondering what you will have for the next meal, or figuring out when you have to leave in order to get to the next yoga class.
What is it like to throw yourself into the practice without judgment? Can you identify the tendency towards measuring and assessment and let that go? Allow yourself to go deeper, opening beyond the dualistic messages of can and cannot into the realm of being? Put yourself willfully into the practice (Tapas!) and once in it, surrender.
The pieces of the puzzle of yoga are called the eight limbs or the eight-fold path, representing principles and stages of being. The Asana practice is one of these limbs, as is Pranayama, the breath practice. The abstinences (Yamas) and observances (Niyamas) represent two of the limbs. Sensory withdrawal and the interior qualities of the mind is Pratyahara, single-pointed focus and concentration is Dharana. Meditation and being one with contemplative nature is Dhyana and the identification with the infinite that is bliss or nirvana is Samadhi. That's the eight fold path, short version! Patanjali, the ancient sage, describes the practices and stages of yoga in detail in his Yoga Sutras. There are many translations from the Sanskrit out there if you want to go deeper.
The cold wind, the blowing snow flurries seem to encourage beginning with Tapas. Shake off the lethargy, reignite your inner fires, give yourself a few more minutes to call out the heat of the sun in your own asana practice! Perhaps it is through a moving meditation in honor of your spine or the sun, perhaps it is through a layer of Kapalabhati breathing in Utkatasana (chair/fierce pose) or in a backbend like Ustrasana (camel) or Setu Bhandasana (Bridge), or just in taking on the challenge of making space for ten minutes of meditation morning and evening, you can raise the heat, raise the internal bar, observe the barriers you find as you allow them to become transparent and eventually burn away in the heat of your own prana (life energy). This is not competitive, nor is it aggressive energy. Discover the depth of your own quiet pool of strength in the middle of a cold winter day.
The two limbs of the Yamas and Niyamas each have five concepts, yet they all lead to one another. It really doesn't matter which one you begin to explore, you will find your way through them all eventually. Tapas leads to purity (Saucha) and truth (Satya), cannot really exist without letting go of gripping (Aparigrapha) or leaving be that which is not really yours (Asteya); must be nonviolent at its core (Ahimsa), observing of the true self (Svadhyaya), evolving a deep and abiding contentment (Santosha), connecting to the divine and eternal (Ishvarapranidhana) and even provoking a sense of conservation of deep energy and restraint (Bramacharya). These are the rest of the abstinences and observances. See if you can feel out which are abstinences that direct your relational behaviors, and those which are observances that apply to your internal structures. Tapas is one of the latter. (You can also revisit my blog entry from 12/25/2009 "Yamas & Niyamas: One Thing Leads to Another" to help sort this out.)
In Patanjali's Sutras he specifies that there are obstacles in the path of a yoga practitioner. Perhaps you can imagine that you see these obstacles in your path and step over some of them, yet you stub your toe on another. To take them on, try investigating Tapas, allowing your inner heat to sweat out illness, your breath to cleanse a negative attitude and recharge. As you practice Tapas, you may stop feeling sorry for yourself, or doubting your abilities. Perhaps your tendency to distraction or impatience will release into the fires of holding a pose or staying in meditation. Stay with it, let the puppy off the lease and wait til she comes back to lie down by the door. False concepts of self, like arrogance or its partner insecurity, will let go as you find the breath can support you as you actually are. In order to focus the mind, open to the fullness that is emptiness in meditation, and become one with your own essential nature and life energy, something has to change from just sitting in your chair wondering what you will have for the next meal, or figuring out when you have to leave in order to get to the next yoga class.
What is it like to throw yourself into the practice without judgment? Can you identify the tendency towards measuring and assessment and let that go? Allow yourself to go deeper, opening beyond the dualistic messages of can and cannot into the realm of being? Put yourself willfully into the practice (Tapas!) and once in it, surrender.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Signing Up and Signing In
Willingness, interest, even commitment may not be enough to get you to follow through on something that you pledge to do. For many of my students, this is a resolution to get to the yoga mat (or get to the gym) every day. Many yoga studios offer encouragement for a steady practice with cheaper multiple class cards, big discounts if you come every day for a month, or make it to a set number of classes in a set number of days. This can be a good jump start to your own practice, and the inclusion of yoga in daily life, but it is not always possible to get to the studio routinely for classes at the appropriate level at accessible times. Family life, work routines, unexpected circumstances, travel, there are so many reasons why a one-directional commitment to the yoga mat can seem impossible to meet.
I love yoga and have no question at all that practicing yoga is good for me in just about every way I can imagine. Even so, there are days when I just cannot seem to make it to the mat for my own practice. I can manage to check my email, but not get to the yoga mat? I certainly cook and eat every day, but I don't get to my mat every day? Am I meeting my commitment? I say yes, and deepening my practice continuously as I go along by allowing my practice to be inclusive, and acknowledging honestly when I do, or don't, direct my attention to my practice.
I see my commitment as an interplay between intention and action. When I fail in my commitment I make excuses, offer explanations, and oftentimes weave complicated emotional tangles that can take a lot of energy to untangle. I can hold myself accountable and let myself off the hook at the same time. Very confusing!
Through my yoga practice, I've come to accept my commitment as my intention. I no longer see my yoga practice on the mat as a requirement or duty, or hard and fast rule related to meeting expectations or achieving a goal. I see it as a discipline based in intention, offering a wide range of possibility for practice and exploring it as an ever enriching and unpredictable experience. I hold myself accountable for acting upon my intention, allowing this action to follow its own path, even if it includes not getting to the yoga mat in a particular day. In yogic terms, Tapas, discipline, is a practice well worth exploring, delving in to the concepts of intention, commitment and practice.
One handy tactic I have used with real impact is a paper sign-in sheet. Sounds a bit simplistic, but all I have to do is sign in and I'm present with my intention. I sign in honestly, noting my practice that day. I use symbols that designate my yoga teaching, philosophy and asana study, meditation (both sitting and walking), mat practice, chair practice, and when I take classes taught by others. I have a symbol for no-practice that represents a day when I have not set aside time for a focus on practice in any of the above activities. The marking of these actions offers me direct connection to my commitment, encouraging me to rev up the engines of my practice if I feel strong resistance to saying "no-practice." I find I can make a little more space in my day and focus my attention. The days I write "no-practice" are very few, and are no condemnation of my intention. They reinforce my exploration of my own journey, that which distracts me, or requires my attention, the choices I make.
I don't judge myself when I sign in, I feel encouraged, and sometimes inspired.
I love yoga and have no question at all that practicing yoga is good for me in just about every way I can imagine. Even so, there are days when I just cannot seem to make it to the mat for my own practice. I can manage to check my email, but not get to the yoga mat? I certainly cook and eat every day, but I don't get to my mat every day? Am I meeting my commitment? I say yes, and deepening my practice continuously as I go along by allowing my practice to be inclusive, and acknowledging honestly when I do, or don't, direct my attention to my practice.
I see my commitment as an interplay between intention and action. When I fail in my commitment I make excuses, offer explanations, and oftentimes weave complicated emotional tangles that can take a lot of energy to untangle. I can hold myself accountable and let myself off the hook at the same time. Very confusing!
Through my yoga practice, I've come to accept my commitment as my intention. I no longer see my yoga practice on the mat as a requirement or duty, or hard and fast rule related to meeting expectations or achieving a goal. I see it as a discipline based in intention, offering a wide range of possibility for practice and exploring it as an ever enriching and unpredictable experience. I hold myself accountable for acting upon my intention, allowing this action to follow its own path, even if it includes not getting to the yoga mat in a particular day. In yogic terms, Tapas, discipline, is a practice well worth exploring, delving in to the concepts of intention, commitment and practice.
One handy tactic I have used with real impact is a paper sign-in sheet. Sounds a bit simplistic, but all I have to do is sign in and I'm present with my intention. I sign in honestly, noting my practice that day. I use symbols that designate my yoga teaching, philosophy and asana study, meditation (both sitting and walking), mat practice, chair practice, and when I take classes taught by others. I have a symbol for no-practice that represents a day when I have not set aside time for a focus on practice in any of the above activities. The marking of these actions offers me direct connection to my commitment, encouraging me to rev up the engines of my practice if I feel strong resistance to saying "no-practice." I find I can make a little more space in my day and focus my attention. The days I write "no-practice" are very few, and are no condemnation of my intention. They reinforce my exploration of my own journey, that which distracts me, or requires my attention, the choices I make.
I don't judge myself when I sign in, I feel encouraged, and sometimes inspired.
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