Joy

Note: Joy is one of our eleven Benefits of Yoga

Joy imageYoga identifies five dimensions in our human system: the physical or annamaya, the energetic or pranamaya, the intellect or manomaya, the personality or vijnanamaya, and the emotional or anandamaya. The word ananda, in the emotional dimension, is translated as “joy that never stops.” This level of our system is capable of joy because it is not linked to habitual ways of thinking that cause suffering.

Habitual patterns of thoughts may be things such as ruminating over regrets about something in the past, or thoughts of failure because we have less than our friends, or fears about our future or our children’s future. When our minds our engaged in these kinds of negative thoughts, we feel constricted, ill at ease: we cannot experience joy.

Since yoga acts on all the different parts of our human system, doing postures, simple breathing techniques, and using sound or other tools of yoga can allow us to see negative patterns of thought and help free us from them and the frustration and unhappiness they engender. Over time, an appropriate, regular yoga practice helps us to see those things creating “non-joy” so we may let go of them, and those things linking us to that joy inherent within us. Through our yoga practice, we can choose to move toward what is positive, toward what nourishes joy at our deepest level.

How Often Do You Experience Joy?

Blue Horses poetry bookThis question has lingered in my mind since it was asked on a form I was filling out for my first reflexology session with my friend and reflexologist Lori Sweet. The question stopped me. I had no idea how to answer it. And, I began to ask myself “what is joy for me?”

Yoga teaches that joy – ananda – resides in the subtlest aspect of our being. It is there for all of us, yet may seem elusive, even mysterious.

After reflecting on this question, I can best describe the feeling of joy to be a profound opening of myself to all that is around me: it is a connection and a deep gratitude. It may be brief or linger, a glow in the sky of my being after the sun slips below the horizon.

Yoga teachings tell us we have a choice whether to move toward joy or away from joy. We have to reflect on what brings us “non-joy” and say “no” to that. The great gift of yoga is a quieting of the mind, which helps us to discern those things that bring us joy and those bringing us “non-joy.”

This morning after returning from the veterinarian with my most lovable fluffy 14-year-old kitty, Bagheera, I sat in the chair in the living room with a cup of coffee. Looking out the window to the snow clinging to the sycamore, I could feel myself leaning into a space of inertia. Bagheera was going to OK, but I was slipping into malaise with the day.

I don’t think I was conscious of making a choice, but I did pick up a book of poetry my husband had given me for Christmas. The poet was Mary Oliver. I read poem after poem until I reached “Franz Marc:s Blue Horses,” in which the poet imagines herself stepping into the painting “Blue Horses.” The poet reflected on the painter who “died a young man, shrapnel in his brain,” but also on the beauty of the blue horses in the painting and her gratitude.

I do not know how to thank you, Franz Marc.
Maybe our world will grow kinder eventually.
Maybe the desire to make something beautiful
is the piece of God that is inside each of us.”

I read the poem again and again, and then found myself holding the book close to my heart. It broke me open to something beyond the living room and the snow and the sycamore. I realize now I had made a choice to move toward joy. And that has made all the difference in my day.

So what about you?
How does joy feel to you?
What are you going to connect to that will bring you joy?

 

A New Year, A New Beginning

Creekside in Winter

I think most of us like New Years because its message is “begin again.” Perhaps we never got around to doing a fifteen minute yoga practice in the morning, or eating a healthier lunch, or getting more rest, or spending time with friends we haven’t seen in a while, or nourishing a spiritual life. The list can go on and on. I am sure you could add to my examples, but I think you get the point.

The New Year feels like a time to start over something that didn’t go well last year, or renew something that did go well, or just plain begin something brand new we haven’t done before. It can be the work of giving up something that no longer serves us, and finding something that does. It can be a change in thinking, or speaking, or listening, or acting. It can be simply a time to reflect on the path we are on and to look at ourselves in our life with courage.

A new beginning for me this year is to take off one month this winter as a time to reflect upon the directions I want to take in teaching and in my life. To allow myself this space, I will not be offering classes the month of February. Our classes will begin again Wednesday, March 4 and Friday, March 6. We will be continuing with the theme of Whole-hearted Living, focusing on yoga as a tool to help us live more fully and with greater acceptance in our relationships and in our attitudes toward ourselves.

You will notice another new beginning in the upcoming weeks as a redesign of the Yoga 4 Healthful Living website is launched. It is my wish that the site is as simple, useful, and aesthetically pleasing as possible for users on all kinds of electronic devices. I am working with my wonderful “web guy” Ric Albano at 33 Dimensions to bring this about and will welcome feedback on your experience.

I realize this is not the type of blog I usually post, but I believe examining where we are and where we are going to be an important part of yoga. It is a svadhyaya, a kind of self-observation and examination. In this way we can construct an appropriate plan going forward.

How many times have you heard me tell you that yoga is about balance? Recently I came across the following definition of a “balanced lifestyle:” It is “a state of being in which one has time and energy for obligations and pleasures, as well as time to live well and in a gratifying way.”

If ever there is an over-arcing principle that can guide our reflections on and our choices in our work and life, it is this. As you begin this New Year of 2015, it is my wish that you find and enjoy this kind of balanced lifestyle.

 

Enough

Sunset at the beach

I don’t know what I expected when I went to “Ted Talks” on the web to listen to Brene Brown talk about vulnerability. All I know is my friend told me, “you have to watch this.”

The thirty minute talk set off a flurry of reflections for me. But what has stayed with me, returning again and again in my thoughts, came in the final moments when she spoke of how to practice “whole-hearted vulnerability:” love with our whole hearts; practice joy and gratitude; believe we are enough. It was the last element that has been the biggest stumbling block for me, and for so many other women I know.

Friday was a journey. We rose at 5:15 am. I said good-bye to each of my dear kitties, and then we drove to Baltimore to board a five plus hour flight to Los Angeles and arrive in what seemed like chaos in the Los Angeles airport. Our reward was seeing our daughter and family and being with our oldest grandson to celebrate his college graduation. But the preparation for leaving during the previous five days had left me feeling as if I had gone beyond “enough.” I had been trying to take care of things in all areas of my life before leaving town, as if all had to be in order so I could go. I was not conscious of my thinking until I looked back. When I did, I realized I was operating with the belief that by completing all these tasks, I would have done enough. I would be enough.

I have been in the “doing enough to be enough” place many times. We live in a culture that reinforces this belief constantly. After all, our economy is about production and consumption and progress; we receive these messages all the time, in media, from other people, from our teachers. It is as if we are enculturated into the belief that there is always more to do, to accomplish, to buy, and to be. If we come to a place where we accept ourselves as we are and believe what we do is enough, we usually notice we are swimming against the current.

But we pay a price for trying to be enough by doing more. When I feel that way, my heart, not to mention my mind, feels depleted, and I have little emotional energy or ability to be present or patient. Doing too much in order to feel I am enough robs me of what is most important, my connection to those dear to me and to myself.

The ability to observe our reactions and behavior is called svadhyaya in Sanskrit. This is one of the three elements of kriya yoga, the yoga of action, as described by Patanjali in Yoga Sutra 2.1. Svadhyaya offers us the possibility of seeing how we create suffering in our own lives, things like believing we are not enough. This sutra tells us to develop a practice to deal with behaviors or attitudes causing problems. The practice, called tapas, requires effort and continued self-observation to make sure it is reducing the negative effects. The last element of kriya yoga is isvara pranidhana, requiring an acknowledgement that there is a power greater than ourselves to whom we must turn over the results of our actions.

Our tapas could be a mantra we include in a meditation each day. One student in my Wise Women class told of a therapist who had given her a mantra that could be used: “I am enough. I do enough. What I do, I do well.” The svadhyaya becomes our continued self-observation. Since our old way of thinking has become a habit, at some point we face resistance. The old pattern will be pushing us to do more so we can feel we are enough, yet our practice will be linking us to a new message, one that assures us we are enough as we are. Inevitably this resistance creates heat, the heat of tapas, as we move to create the new positive pattern, and so effort over time is required to transform the old pattern. To maintain the effort required we need humility and faith that something positive will come to fruition, over time, through our efforts – isvara pranidhana.

There is a price we pay for staying in our old patterns, which is continued suffering. And, there is a price we pay when we engage in making change, which is effort. But there is a pay off eventually as we begin to move from “not enough”‘ to a place of believing we are enough. When we live in the place of believing we are enough, we are kinder and gentler to ourselves and others. We feel connection in our relationships, and we are able to touch joy and peace within ourselves. The universe is full, the Veda-s tell us. And indeed it is when all is enough.

 

Slowing Down

Desert scene

Have you ever found yourself receiving the same message again and again? For example, you read an entry in a daily meditation book that so clearly speaks to you that you are startled. Then you lunch with a friend who tells you how she just became aware she needed to change something in her life, and it is exactly the issue the meditation book entry was speaking to. A few days later, you hear the same message in a lecture you attend.

That’s exactly what has happened to me. Recently I heard a woman from Rotary International speak about lessons she learned from her stay in Haiti, helping to install water filters in the homes of Haitians. She described the life of the people in the valley where she worked, how they spent most of their time interacting with neighbors. Their lives, being quite simple, although much more physically demanding than those of most Americans, allowed space for relationships. What the speaker took away was the importance of slowing down and paying attention to people and relationships.

The following day I was Skyping with my Vedic Chant teacher, going over two chants and part of a third I was working on. As we concluded the session, she told me, “You need to slow down. You need to pay attention and listen to yourself.”

As I reflected on my teacher’s feedback, I realized that “slowing down,” “paying attention,” and “listening” were a part of a bigger message I needed to hear.

Later, when I heard Pastor Tom Sweet say: “If you want to go deep, you have to go slow,” and repeat that in a newsletter he sent out later in the week, I knew he was sharing the bigger message.

In his commentary on the Yoga Sutra I.2, where the state of yoga is defined, Bernard Bouanchaud tells us: “Yoga consists of keeping the mind quiet and wakeful so that one is totally present to what one is doing. Thoughts no longer rush forth of themselves in all directions…” To achieve the state of yoga requires going deep, and going deep requires going slowly.

During the holiday season, when messages abound about the many things to do and remember, my thoughts can flash by, dispersing my attention and focus. As I feel stressed by the perceived pressure to “get everything done,” my distraction and thoughts speed up.

We are fortunate to have many practices in yoga that help to quiet the mind and improve our ability to focus our attention in the here and now. The practices are tools to slow us down, but also the vehicles to go deeper. Often the first place we start is doing movement coordinated with the breath in yoga postures. But the eight limbs of yoga suggest many ways to practice paying attention and slowing down: we can observe how we practice the five recommended ethical principles (yama) in our relationships with others; we can observe how we practice the five recommended attitudes (niyama) toward ourselves; we can practice breathing techniques (pranayama) to bring a state of balance to the mind; we can practice withdrawing our senses (pratyahara) from focusing on the world around us in favor of our internal universe; we can regularly practice meditation with a particular focus on an object or concept that helps to support us in our lives (dharana, dhyana, samadhi).

Yoga asks us to go deep, to know ourselves, to make changes so we can live without suffering, with more peace. By going slowly enough to go deeply, we have the possibility of transformation. And, for that message, I am grateful.

 

Winter Solstice – Practice and Reflections

Winter Solstice image

Each year, I am able, I teach Yoga for the Winter Solstice. I do this believing we can come to a deeper, quieter place in our lives by heeding the messages of this season. I hope you will join me Wednesday, December 17 from 5:45–7:15 pm at The Movement Center in Harrisburg for this balancing, meditative time honoring the wisdom of the season. You can find out more information on this class here. Below you will find my reflections on the Winter Solstice, written for the Solstice last year, but still speaking to me, and I hope to you, of the blessings of the winter season.

I love noticing seasonal changes and what those changes suggest about the rhythms of our lives. After all, the teachings of yoga stress finding balance in our lives, harmony with the world around us. Awareness of the seasons, the energies they possess, their influence on our lives, and the lessons they teach can lead us to
live more healthfully and harmoniously with our environment.

The winter solstice is the day of both greatest darkness and the promise of returning and growing light. In this way, it also offers us a metaphor for our own energies. Within each one of us there is both energy that is quiet and reflective as well as energy that is light and uplifting. In our yoga practice, we always seek a balance of these two energies, remembering that the seasons and our environment will influence these energies uniquely within each one of us.

As we move toward the winter solstice, we can bring our awareness to the messages of this season. We look around and see the skeletons of deciduous trees as they husband their life-sustaining resources. Most plants have entered a time of dormancy so they may bloom in the spring. Ground hogs, rabbits, and chipmunks hibernate or reduce their activity so as to conserve their food, water, and heat. Even in the midst of a winter storm, there is a sense of quiet as we watch snowflakes fall and cover the ground.

If we were to honor the quiet energy of winter, we would rest more and view this season as an opportunity to restore ourselves so we have the energy to blossom with our activities in the spring. Winter can be a fallow time, but not necessarily a time when nothing happens. It can be a time of reflection; we can begin to ask ourselves what projects we want to undertake when the energy of spring rises to nurture us. Remembering that in winter we plan our gardens, we don’t plant them, can help remind us of winter’s rhythm.

The winter solstice teaches us about living with faith. It is the day of greatest darkness. It announces the coldest months of the year. Yet, at some moment, probably in January, we will notice that dawn arrives a bit earlier, and the sun sets a bit later. In the face of the cold, cloudy days, and winter weather, the lengthening hours of daylight will raise our faith that spring will come. In December 21, Clear and five degrees, Ted Kooser reminds us of the hopefulness of this season;

“Perfectly still this solstice morning, /in bone-cracking cold…/…as I walk the road,/the wind held in the heart of every tree/flows to the end of each twig and forms a bud.”

 

Exploring an Inner Radiance

Bare tree

Earlier this week, before the weather turned chilly, I took a rest from cleaning up weeds and detritus around the two crepe myrtle by our driveway. Their fushia flowers had brought us great pleasure during the summer, but what remained now, in November, was just browning and falling leaves.

Leaning my arms on the trunk of the car, I looked toward the creek, to the old sycamore whose boney branches rose above the rooftops, glowing in a slant of sunlight. But my gaze was stolen from the tree by the motion of hawks. Two hawks circled in similar flight paths, at different heights, riding the thermals as they flapped and coasted, flapped and coasted. Banking to maintain their circle the angle of their bodies shifted, and sunlight flashed across their creamy white bellies.

Sycamores, hawks, light.

“Light originates in the center of the heart,” explains Bernard Bouanchaud in his commentary on yoga sutra I.36. Meditating on that light, which is believed to be the source of the divine within, brings a sense of serenity.

This concept is very precious to me, personally. At a time when I was struggling with a lack of confidence and a feeling of distress, my yoga teacher said to me, “Your light is so bright. You just cannot see it.” Her words were a gift, something I return to for solace and stability.

We all experience times when we feel as if we are in a dark space. That is why I offer this image of the light in the heart to my students as focus in class from time to time. When we are caught in a dark space in our thinking, we can visualize the image of the light within. As flicking a switch in a dark room dissipates the darkness that had been there, linking to the image of a light in the heart can help dissipate the darkness of our thoughts.

The ancient Vedas offer a beautiful image that can help us explore this mystery of the light in the heart.

In the body is the heart,
In the heart is a lotus,
In the lotus is a light,
This light is the source of inner peace…”

According to Bouanchaud’s commentary, meditating on the luminous quality of the heart offers us the possibility of more than a sense of peace and stability, as wonderful as that is. This serenity can open a door connecting us to “the life that animates all beings and everything in nature” and encouraging “a deep relationship with it.”

As I watched the light flash on the bellies of the circling hawks and gleam on the white skin of the sycamore, I was reminded of the light living not only within me, but within all people, all beings. The promise of peace and connection is there for all of us, if only we notice.