A friend of mine e-mailed me earlier this week and suggested I write about ahimsa, the yogic concept outlined in the Yoga Sutras that recommends a non-violent and non-harmful approach to all of life in both thought and deed. A good subject for sure, so here goes. The topic of ahimsa is multi-layered enough to warrant many inquiries: how does ahimsa relate to our asana practice, our communication with others, our preferred activities, our diets, and even our thoughts? What exactly qualifies as “violent” or “harmful?” If a mere thought can harm, then does the thought itself have heft and verve, in a quantum sense, as the Yoga Sutras indicate? These questions insinuate the cerebral rabbit hole we jump into when our yoga merges with our life, which, if we practice long enough, it almost assuredly will.
Blunt force is easy to recognize as harmful, but the more subtle forms of violence might be more appropriately described as resistance to the inherent good glimmering in the center of any given moment. We judge one another too easily, or fail to say “thank you,” or go to bed mad. Sometimes we let too many moments escape unappreciated, robbing ourselves as well as the people surrounding us of the best possible experience. Is this violent? Harmful? It certainly limits our freedom, inhibiting our movement forward in the journey to enlightenment.
Consideration of these questions invites mindfulness and self-awareness, allowing us as yogis the opportunity to continue to grow and to be happier. When we extend the effort to be gentle and aware to even the more subtle aspects of our daily lives, we cannot help but constantly investigate our own motives for and reactions to the events we create, as well as those surrounding us, which some say we also create whether we realize it or not.
Eventually we realize some (or many) of our habits are harmful to ourselves or to others, and therefore need to be changed. Many yogis use ahimsa as their basis for a vegetarian lifestyle. I am one of these people, but I understand that I could be doing more. For instance, although I don’t eat meat, I do eat eggs and dairy, and I really couldn’t argue with someone who tried to tell me that industrially-produced dairy products are just as devastating to the land and animals as industrially-raised meat. It’s true. And yet I have not yet been able, whether through lack of strength, compassion, or ideology, to take my dietary restrictions to the next level. I also occasionally enjoy fish, although I have recently decided to quit indulging myself in this pleasure. I could whine about how hard it is when we eat out (which is when my fish-eating episodes always occur), or I could enjoy the one additional step I’ve made on the ahimsic ladder and thank myself for the progress.
This whole diet as ahimsa practice deserves an entire topic of its own (which is actually what my friend wanted me to write about when she suggested the topic – sorry Michelle, I got side-tracked), but even this aspect of life has strands coming off of it that can make any situation not as cut-and-dry as it looks. For instance, if we visit someone’s home who is unaware of our dietary “requirements,” and this person has selflessly and thoughtfully prepared a non-vegetarian dish, do we refuse to eat it? What’s more harmful? Disparaging someone’s admirable good effort? Or eating food that’s already gone from pasture to table? Or do we graciously enjoy the portions of the meal that don’t contain meat, without commenting upon or judging the rest? All good questions we might encounter as yogis.
As always, you certainly have the option of containing your yoga practice on the mat, and in class, although I truly believe the physical practice eventually reveals the importance of the internal landscape to asana practitioners. It’s all connected. Yoga understands this truth, it is this truth, the practice both contains and directs us to the union we are meant to experience as enlightened beings. And for most of us, it all starts on the mat. I’ll see you there!
Happy practicing. And Namaste.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Sankalpa
The world of yogic philosophy offers a wealth of complementary approaches to personal and spiritual development: physical practice, self-study, meditation, mindfulness, the list we’ve all become familiar with through our own personal practices. We often devote ourselves to these practices, deepening their significance through careful attention and dedication. Sometimes, though, perhaps it’s a good idea to push the envelope and venture beyond the tried and true boundaries of our own comfort zones in the effort to progress spiritually.
For most of us the physical practice is an oasis, an opportunity to reconnect to our inner selves and realign our physical bodies, thereby restoring balance to our daily lives. It is a crucial component of our equilibrium, but for many of us not necessarily terribly challenging to our willpower, fortitude, or sense of resistance. We love the practice. It makes us glow, makes us happy, so we continue to step again and again back onto the mat.
But what about those things we really know we should be doing but seem unable to focus energy on? We all have them. Many people are mired under piles of things they ought to be doing, but don’t. Obesity as well as other harmful body treatment, violence, intolerance, stagnation…the unhealthy dregs of misguided intentions can often swell to proportions big enough to sully entire lifetimes. Students of yoga philosophy, however, have at least the understanding that self-study is an inescapable stop along the path to freedom, and thus we’re open to the idea of trying.
This is where sankalpa, the yogic answer to a New Year’s Resolution, comes in. According to the on-line dictionary for Shoshoni, which is where I received my yoga teacher training, a sankalpa is “a vow to perform a particular spiritual practice for a specific length of time, at a specific time of day, in a specific place.” Other sources define the practice more generally, just as a resolution of any sort, but still with a spiritual focus. So really the actual activity involved can be just about anything – for people who struggle with maintaining a physical practice, daily sun salutations might be appropriate, for others maybe meditation or seva (selfless service). Even giving up television, fast food, or complaining (my new personal favorite).
The point is to bring us face to face with what we resist and thereby allow ourselves the opportunity to grow beyond the range of our self-imposed limitations. Sankalpa is our own inner disciplinarian, hands on hips, not caring to hear for one second what we don’t want to do, what makes us uncomfortable, what we’re used to doing, it doesn’t care about sleeping in or BBQ sandwiches or too-long to-do lists. Sankalpa wants what’s best for us, and it’s ultimately in our own best interest to concur. And so we hold our noses and dive into the icy waters outside the boundaries of our comfort zones.
The primary reason I chose sankalpa as this week’s topic is because I have avoided for too long now taking my own meditation practice to the respectful place it deserves in my day. As I mentioned in a previous week’s topic, I fit my meditation in where I can, working it into my day where it fits. This means that some days I find myself in my parked car, hands folded in my lap in the driver’s seat, eyes closed. Some days I go from one place to another in my home looking for a quiet place, dogs barking, kids wrasslin’, life humming around me. Or I wait until bedtime and sit before sleep, tired and perhaps unfocused. All the time knowing that what I need to do is get up half an hour earlier, sit in meditation first thing in the morning, and start my day with practice.
So this will be my first sankalpa. For forty days. Hopefully by the end of that time the practice will have become habit, and I’ll be one step further along. At the very least I will have gained strength through discipline and dedication, and perhaps emerge more willing to delve into things that on the surface look impenetrable. Wish me luck!
And happy practicing. Namaste.
For most of us the physical practice is an oasis, an opportunity to reconnect to our inner selves and realign our physical bodies, thereby restoring balance to our daily lives. It is a crucial component of our equilibrium, but for many of us not necessarily terribly challenging to our willpower, fortitude, or sense of resistance. We love the practice. It makes us glow, makes us happy, so we continue to step again and again back onto the mat.
But what about those things we really know we should be doing but seem unable to focus energy on? We all have them. Many people are mired under piles of things they ought to be doing, but don’t. Obesity as well as other harmful body treatment, violence, intolerance, stagnation…the unhealthy dregs of misguided intentions can often swell to proportions big enough to sully entire lifetimes. Students of yoga philosophy, however, have at least the understanding that self-study is an inescapable stop along the path to freedom, and thus we’re open to the idea of trying.
This is where sankalpa, the yogic answer to a New Year’s Resolution, comes in. According to the on-line dictionary for Shoshoni, which is where I received my yoga teacher training, a sankalpa is “a vow to perform a particular spiritual practice for a specific length of time, at a specific time of day, in a specific place.” Other sources define the practice more generally, just as a resolution of any sort, but still with a spiritual focus. So really the actual activity involved can be just about anything – for people who struggle with maintaining a physical practice, daily sun salutations might be appropriate, for others maybe meditation or seva (selfless service). Even giving up television, fast food, or complaining (my new personal favorite).
The point is to bring us face to face with what we resist and thereby allow ourselves the opportunity to grow beyond the range of our self-imposed limitations. Sankalpa is our own inner disciplinarian, hands on hips, not caring to hear for one second what we don’t want to do, what makes us uncomfortable, what we’re used to doing, it doesn’t care about sleeping in or BBQ sandwiches or too-long to-do lists. Sankalpa wants what’s best for us, and it’s ultimately in our own best interest to concur. And so we hold our noses and dive into the icy waters outside the boundaries of our comfort zones.
The primary reason I chose sankalpa as this week’s topic is because I have avoided for too long now taking my own meditation practice to the respectful place it deserves in my day. As I mentioned in a previous week’s topic, I fit my meditation in where I can, working it into my day where it fits. This means that some days I find myself in my parked car, hands folded in my lap in the driver’s seat, eyes closed. Some days I go from one place to another in my home looking for a quiet place, dogs barking, kids wrasslin’, life humming around me. Or I wait until bedtime and sit before sleep, tired and perhaps unfocused. All the time knowing that what I need to do is get up half an hour earlier, sit in meditation first thing in the morning, and start my day with practice.
So this will be my first sankalpa. For forty days. Hopefully by the end of that time the practice will have become habit, and I’ll be one step further along. At the very least I will have gained strength through discipline and dedication, and perhaps emerge more willing to delve into things that on the surface look impenetrable. Wish me luck!
And happy practicing. Namaste.
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