Thursday, April 25, 2013

Ishvara Pranidana

Ishvara Pranidana is a difficult niyama for me to discuss and practice because it means surrender to god. I have believed for many years that no one can really know if god exists until they die. But I have begun a Tantric path of yoga (and living) that includes the belief that everyone can know god in their lifetime with enough dedication and practice.

Now we must come to an agreement on what god means. We don't have to agree, we just have to all be on the same page. When I say god I do not mean the monotheistic father figure in the sky. But you might. And if you do that's ok. If that's what works for you, go with it. And that is the mentality I hope you all take when approaching a topic such as ishvara pranidana. What works for you may not be what works for your neighbor and that's ok.

Ishvara pranidana is surrender. As one lets go of the idea of control an internal peace can be achieved. The ego isn't going to appreciate this much, but the ego shouldn't be in charge anyway.  In order for growth, the ego needs to be checked.

Regardless of the form, most people have a belief of something bigger than themselves. It can be something ethereal like the idea of the divine, the universe, destiny, fate, the source, god, a higher power, the grand scheme or it can be a more down to earth concept such as the sanctity of of the family unit or the interconnectedness of all aspects of nature.

It is this concept, whatever it may be for you, that can serve to draw importance from the demands of the ego. We will practice asana and pranayama but the benefits of your practice will be offered to whatever your concept of "more than myself" works for you. Every time  your practice gets hard, remember that it's for your partner, your child, humanity or god for whom you make this effort; for whom you work and strive.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Shine a Light in Dark Places

Perhaps as daunting as the idea of restriction is the idea of self study. I remember a time when lying to myself was acceptable practice. I have only recently begun to fathom the depths to which I have pushed unpleasantness. I know I've made progress, but there is stuff I've gotten so good at ignoring, I've forgotten it's there.

Svadyaya is the discipline of watching your interior mental processes and beginning to understand how they lead to your external behaviors. The practices of yoga provide a means to be able to crack the cloud cover of willful ignorance long enough to allow a shaft of sunshine to beam down. With this illumination we are able to see our true motivations. What baggage are we dipping into when we interact with the world? From where are we really moving? We have the extraordinary ability to convince ourselves we're right; that our motivations are grounded in truth. But we fool ourselves.

When we begin to notice these things it can be disheartening. It's important to show compassion to yourself in the face of what is perceived as flaws. This compassionate mindset will give us the courage to get close enough to our "flaws" to understand them. Then we can let them go. A sense of humor can also be an ally when facing our dark corners. If we can find the presence of mind to laugh in the face of that truth, we can embrace the totality of who we are.

It is important to practice those things which cause us to feel angry, frustrated, nervous or upset. As we become aware as to why we feel this way, we will be able to let go of patterns that exist around those feelings and we won't have to feel that way any more.
The pit fall of a practice that doesn't ever ruffle your feathers is the perpetuation of those behaviors and mental attitudes that keep you in the dark.

This week begins a week of fiery asana. In order to be able to shine light into the darkness, we must radiate. In the book Path of Fire and Light, Swami Rama speaks of those who walk the path of light, who deny the existance of darkness, saying the sun never knows what darkness looks like. We will practice pranayama and asana that stokes our fire aspect; our agni. Fire is transformative. It takes something and makes something else. We all come to yoga as we are, where we are. We stoke our fire, shining bright, radiant light on our dark places and are transformed into the best versions of ourselves.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Tapas

This week's niyama is tapas. Tapas is translated as heat, but interpreted many ways. Dedicated effort, austerity, enthusiasm. It refers to the internal heat we all have to varying degrees that we use to get things done.

I mentioned last week that discipline is often looked at with disdain by our society. It is looked at, in my opinion, as a reduction in freedom. As a society based around the idea of being "free", we take offense at the idea of being restricted in any way.

But restriction leads to growth. Being able to control yourself will prevent myriad problems that our decadent society tends toward; addictions of all kinds. We want to feel alive. We want to feel good. What we tend to reach for to achieve that feeling is temporary. In the short term it works well, but it has no staying power.

We must exert some effort in order to achieve a lasting kind of goodness. It takes strength of will to be able to choose what is good for us, especially when the short term feel good is so easy; so readily available; so generally encouraged.

When we are told that we need to make changes, we feel that we have been wrong to this point. Obviously, if I must change my ways of doing things, it's because I've been doing things wrong. But this is not the case. There are just many ways of doing things. In order to become the best, brightest version of ourselves, we must work at it; we must be willing to be flexible in our perspectives.

As adults, we are daunted by the idea of hard work. We can do it, but we do it begrudgingly. Do you remember when you had the energy to do what ever you wanted? Do you remember a time when dedicating your time to building something was a joy and not a task? The work we do to grow only has to feel like work if we let it. If we can draw out our inner child, we can do amazing things with enthusiasm.

When did we become convinced the wonder of a child's perspective is embarrassing? When did we begin thinking that "childish" is an insult? Do you remember when you were unabashedly yourself? As an increasingly aware adult, I have often marveled at the change I went through as I became a young adult. I remember having a key chain that read, "I'm not opinionated, I'm just always right." Now that's not an attitude I generally encourage, but I miss the days of being that sure of myself. At some point I lost that. I began to buy into the idea that other people were right and I was wrong. That's just sad. I gained a timidity that I see reflected all around me. We are so worried about what others think of us. I can understand that we need each other to survive, but do we need to put so much stock into the opinion of others? When will we lift ourselves up and value our own opinions?

That's not to say that I want to be right all the time, or that I think you should think you're right all the time. That is a narrow minded attitude that truly is childish. But the best of our children can still be found within us, right along side the worst. Let's see if we can draw on the wonder, the joy, the open, unprejudiced view of people who haven't been conditioned to societies norms yet; who don't know how much they glow and if they did, they would feel embarrassed and try to stifle it. Don't stifle yourself today, this week, or ever.

This week's asana will be an effort to overcome self consciousness in order to do hard work with a joyful mind. We will get sweaty and be silly, and hopefully, learn something of what it is like to let go of the defenses we erect in order to feel less embarrassment.