The Whole Story

Through the trees

Sometimes we think we understand something, but we do not yet have enough information for a full picture.”

….Nicolai Bachman, The Path of the Yoga Sutra

 
From 33,ooo feet, the land below lay bleached, the color of sandstone, and dotted with craters lined by low jagged ridges. Here and there a cloud threw a shadow across the earth. But the view still left a sense of barreness under a startling blue sky and relentless sun.

At a point close to our destination the desert yielded to Lake Mead, gathering water from the Colorado River. The chalklines of the lake’s previous shorelines lay naked. Soon tidy neighborhoods of houses appeared, ringed in greenery, many with rectangles of blue in the yards.

Finally the plane approached McCarren Airport, and the jewels of the Las Vegas Strip appear paying homage to New York, Paris, Luxor, Mandolay Bay, among others.

Ten years ago I never would have guessed we would be making Las Vegas our destination twice a year. But somehow, our grown children, with their children, have a way of leading us to places we never thought we would go.

My image of Las Vegas and its environs has been just what I have described – starkly barren desert, suburban sprawl, and the crazy, fantasy world of “The Strip.” As well as leading us to new places, our children, and in this case, grandchildren, have a way of opening our minds to what we hadn’t seen before. In this case it was the Clark County Parks and Recreation Wetlands Park.

One Sunday morning, two grandchildren, our son, his wife, Jim and I visited the Las Vegas Valley wetlands. I wasn’t sure what I expected but it wasn’t what I found – except for the unrelenting heat of the sun. Vegetation of all kinds bordered the path we followed, which led us to a pond. As we stood at its edge, soft-shelled turtles, both large and small, swam to near we stood. A pair of American coots swam on the far side of the pond. Fish of various sizes nibbled in the waters close to the shore.

Before the development of Las Vegas city, this wetland had been an oasis in the valley. But development had led to the run-off of storm water, building of sewage treatment plants and water flows that deepened a channel allowing water that had fed the wetlands to migrate into a wash. Recognizing the important role the wetlands played in purifying water and providing habitat for plants, birds, and animals led to projects that restored the wetlands we walked though.

Sitting in a grove of old cottonwood trees, whose presence signals the existence of water in the Southwest, I found my thoughts coming to the Yoga Sutra. How often, I thought, had I made a judgment from what I had observed, only to learn later that it was not the “whole story.” Sutra I.8 calls assumptions and judgments such as I made “misapprehension” or viparayaya – “comprehension which is taken to be correct until more favorable conditions reveal the exact nature of the objects,” according to Mr. Desikachar in his Reflections on the Yoga Sutra-s of Patanjali.

While my assumptions about Las Vegas hadn’t serious consequences, it was still a lesson for me to be wary thinking I understand a place, or a person, or a thing, for I seldom have the full story. Mr. Desikachar reminds us, “The aim of yoga practice is to recognize and control the causes of misapprehension.”

 

Labyrinth

Elizabeth at labyrinth

Last Sunday my daughter and I brunched at the Chocolate Maven where we enjoyed a quiche of green chilies and the best mochas I have ever had. I swear Santa Fe must be the only place on earth where you can find green chilie quiche. And, the pleasure in eating it was only enhanced by having had three days with my daughter.

Monday morning when we had to say good-bye so she could return to Los Angeles and her many responsibilities of children, husband, and work, my whole body felt the loss of the intimacy of our weekend. In the space between her departure and the arrival of my husband, I walked.

Often, when feeling troubled or sad, I want to feel close to the earth. On this day, in Santa Fe, I wanted to take in the Sangre de Cristo mountains whose peaks were whitened by Sunday’s storm, the deep blue of the cloudless sky, the brilliant yellow of a tree flanking the white stone of the New Mexico Veterans’ Memorial. But I did have a destination in mind.

Walking San Francisco Street, I passed homeless people, tourists, and just ordinary folks. Ahead lay my destination – Saint Francis Cathedral, with the Sangre de Cristo mountains as its backdrop. I climbed the stairs as visitors milled and photographed the church and one another. Rather than entering, I turned to the left and crossed the portico to the labyrinth. The only person nearby was a man reading as he sat on a nearby bench.
Here it was quiet.

Only the day before, Katherine and I had walked the labyrinth on Museum Hill. And, only a week earlier, Jim, my friend Leslie, and I had walked the labyrinth at the Benedictine Grange near Redding, Connecticut.

I had explained to Katherine my sense of the labyrinth, and how you had to place your attention on each step you took, how the exactitude of the narrow path required attention as it led closer to the center, and then wound away. Sometimes it was only a few steps until the path curved back in the direction from which you had come, while other times you were lead with many steps before the path curved, and you had to slow just to stay on the path.

A plaque beside the labyrinth explained that they had been used since at least 2000 BC and were found everywhere in the world. In medieval times labyrinths were built into the floor of churches where pilgrims came to walk them. The one at Saint Francis in Santa Fe was built on the pattern of the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France.

I had told Katherine that I felt walking the labyrinth was like life. It reminded us that sometimes things went smoothly, then, suddenly there would be twists. Sometimes twist after twist required slowing and quick adjustments. Sometimes we approached the center, which for me is a closeness to a Higher Source, and we find joy. Other times our path changes suddenly and we may feel alone, abandoned.

Something felt soothing and healing on the morning I walked the labyrinth at Saint Francis. It did remind me of the twists in life we all face. But, in the space of time in which I walked the labyrinth, I moved from sadness to gratitude. I realized that in feeling such a connection with my daughter, I had reached a center – at least for a time.

 

We Are All in this Together

People's climate march

The hand holding out the button was gnarled and shaking. Its owner, his head crowned with an abundance of curly white hair, mumbled something about the button. My friend, standing near this man, exclaimed, “This is cool.” On the button an image of the earth was held in two hands, one of which was large, the other small, as if a father or grandfather was passing the planet to a child.

At the People’s Climate March in New York City on September 21, many young people marched. They carried many different signs, but one we saw frequently announced, “I’m marching for my future.” One of my friends carried a sign declaring, “I’m marching for my grandchildren.” And, we saw many of those, as well.

Occasionally a chant – call and response – floated above the heads of marchers. “What is democracy?” they called, and the response, “This is democracy.” As I looked around, the multitude of various faces seemed to acknowledge this truth. Young, old, and in-between marched. We saw people with babies, and at least one person in a wheelchair. People or every color, leftover hippies and their 21st century versions, groups from every environmental orientation, anti-war protesters, members of labor unions, campaign workers, college students, Buddhists, vegans, communists and so many others I lost count, moved around us as we walked.

“Noah’s Ark” was perhaps the most powerful image for me from the March. The ark, which was large enough to hold many people, emerged from a street to slide in amongst the marchers. Aboard the ark were a rabbi, a priest, an atheist, a Wiccan, and on and on. “We are all in this together,” it announced.

Since returning home I have been reflecting on this experience and how the teachings of yoga guide us in living consciously and in harmony with life on this planet. It seems to me two of the yama recommended in the Yoga Sutra, in particular, can help us. The first and most important attitude recommended is ahimsa or non-harming. It is interpreted to be more than a prohibition against violence; it requires, as well, positive action so that we treat all beings – and I believe that includes the living earth – with respect and benevolence.

The other yama especially relevant as we reflect on how to live in balance is aparigrahah. This yama is translated as non-covetedness or an absence of greed. It requires living simply, taking only what is necessary.

These teachings offer antidotes to many of the attitudes that have brought us to such a critical point in the life of the planet and her inhabitants. They are part of a larger group of recommendations that if adhered to offer a chance to live with greater peace and joy.

As a way of living more consciously in harmony with life on this planet and with ourselves, we can ask ourselves questions raised by these teachings.

  • Is there more that I can do to practice ahimsa, bringing an attitude of respect and kindness to others, to all beings, to how I live day to day?
  • Do I live consciously with an attitude of moderation, resisting excesses of consumption or acquisition?
  • Can I live more simply, generously, keeping in mind that how I live each day affects, not just those around me, but those throughout the world?
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Understanding Who We Are

Flower

At the end of a recent Wise Women yoga class, one of the students noted that she had become completely confused with a movement in a posture she had done many times before. As she reflected a little more, she told that class she remembered that she hadn’t slept well and was finding it much harder to focus.

Rather than berating herself for not doing the posture as instructed, the student stopped and asked herself if there was a reason for her to be less focused than usual. She was aware, not just of her confusion with the posture, but also about why – less focus. And, she could relate that to having insufficient rest. Accepting, rather than judging or criticizing herself, allowed her to discover an important factor in her confusion.

Awareness and acceptance can keep us from becoming embroiled in judgment and self-criticism. Instead, they help us to have greater insight into why we may be having difficulty, so we can make change. And, by avoiding the downward emotional spiral that often accompanies self- criticism, we can feel
lighter, clearer, and calmer. This is all part of the process of self-study or svadhyaya, one of the foundational concepts of and requirements for yoga practice.

The Sanskrit word “svadhyaya” can be broken down into “sva,” meaning “self” and “adhyaya,” meaning “inquiry” or “examination.” As Desikachar explains in the Heart of Yoga, “All learning, all reflection, all contact that helps you to learn more about yourself is svadhyaya.” Regular yoga practice itself can be mirror for us to see more about ourselves. Relationships offer a huge mirror for us to see our thoughts, hear our words, and examine our actions. Another avenue is the study of texts, particularly those regarded as possessing wisdom: texts such as the Yoga Sutra, the Bible, or other works of personal significance.

Self-study offers us the opportunity to see what thought patterns, habits of speech, and behaviors may be creating problems and suffering in our lives. Once we have the awareness and acceptance of them, we have the possibility of making changes to more positive habits.

I see relationships as a real opportunity for svadhyaya. Recently I was working on a project with another person. As the time came to bring the project to closure, I found myself increasingly annoyed with the many emails and texts. I began to feel resentful of the time my project partner was demanding. And, yes, I was blaming her.

One day there was a shift in my response. I began to hear in my partner’s voice a sense of being overwhelmed, stressed, and tired. As I really listened, I felt my irritation soften. I began to see the role of my ego and attachment to a certain way of doing things. Having this awareness, I could accept that my thinking was contributing to my own annoyance and perhaps to my partner’s stress. Awareness and acceptance allowed me to open to other possibilities in our project and to work together to bring the project to a successful conclusion.

I relish the opportunities that the practice of svadhyaya brings to my life, for it gives me the possibility of moving toward my goals of being a kinder, more generous and peaceful person.

 

Transitions

Leaves are Starting to Fall

When I woke the other morning, the air felt chilly as I slipped into the space I call “my room” to do my yoga practice. And it was still cool enough when I went downstairs afterwards that Jim had cooked oatmeal for our breakfast, his “first oatmeal of the season,” as he said.

At my desk later, I found my head spinning as I looked at the well-organized sheet of notes listing all the things I should be taking care of. Fortunately, I stopped and decided the only way to gain perspective was to take a walk.

The lane where I walked divides smallish homes and the Conodoguinet creek on the left and a woodsy area below a town house development on the right. Scattered across the lane were brown leaves, and a few even floated down in front of me as I walked. Some trees sported drying leaves lacey with holes. It was quiet. No voices, no bird calls. Just the peace of the trees and a few horsetail clouds in a blue sky. I couldn’t help but think the day announced the slightest shift, an almost perceptible movement, toward the energy of fall.

I know this change toward shorter days and cooler weather is not welcome by everyone. And I’m not writing this as a foreboding of unwelcome things to come, but rather as an observation. So often our awareness of seasonal change is about what is around, outside of us. Yet the energetic qualities of each season influence all beings – including us.

In fall we observe the leaves drying and falling, often blown by the winds. The air cools. Autumn is characterized by the qualities of vata dosha, one of three constitutions described by the Indian science of health known as ayurveda. If we are in a vata stage of life – mid-50s and up – we might be even more vulnerable to these effects. We might find our hair, nails, and skin is dry. We may suffer from constipation and have trouble sleeping. We may feel ungrounded or anxious.

Knowing in advance the energetics of fall can keep us from wondering “what is the matter” if we find ourselves experiencing some of the symptoms of out-of-balance vata. Accepting that the season may exacerbate these effects, we can start making changes in our diet and lifestyles that can support a sense of balance. So, for example, if we tend to experience dryness, we can begin to add soups to our diets and take time to massage some sesame oil into our feet and joints. Our yoga practice can change to bring a sense of grounded-ness and stability to our system.

We do have to remember that how we respond to seasonal and life changes varies from person to person based upon what ayurveda identifies as our personal dosha or constitution at birth. Understanding our constitution helps us to understand our strengths and weaknesses and our responses to seasons and life events and choices. Much literature exists on the subject, and an ayurvedic practitioner can accurately identify and explain our constitution and its implications in our life.

Whether you choose to delve more deeply into learning about your constitution or not, we all can observe, without judging, the qualities of each season. We can notice how we are affected and prepare strategies to counter-balance any negative effects we may experience. In that way, we can help ourselves to “avoid future suffering“.

 

Cultivating a Tranquil Mind

Tranquil Mind blog image

Two friends, Vicki and Naomi walk to their cars after having had dinner together. They work together and have known each other since kindergarten. Naomi wanted to get together to share her good news. Not only had she received a promotion and a substantial raise, but she had just gotten engaged. Vicki tried to be happy for her friend, but inside she was consumed with envy and resentment. Her mind was racing with thoughts about how unfair life had been to her.

This is an example of just one of the situations that Yoga Sutra I.33 speaks to, as it addresses how to maintain a stable, tranquil mind in relationships. This Sutra is translated: “A clear and tranquil mind results from cultivating friendliness towards those who are happy, compassion towards those who suffer, joy towards the virtuous, and impartiality towards wrong-doers.”1

Vicki, in the example above, is seeing the happiness of her friend through the lens of what she feels she is missing in her own life. Her thinking has become negative, and she is suffering, as a result. This Sutra advises us, instead, to see the happiness of others as just that. By being friendly towards those who are happy we share in their positive experience. Our minds remain tranquil.

Actually each of the four situations mentioned in this Sutra share a common thread. What keeps a person’s mind ensnared in negativity is seeing other people’s lives through the lens of one’s own life, experiences, or values.

Let’s look at another example. Jean is 26 and recently divorced after an abusive marriage. As a result she asked to move into her parents’ home with her 1 year old. Neither her father nor mother liked the man Jean had married. They told her it was her choice to marry him, and now she has to live with the consequences. Without their help or a job, Jean and her baby are living in a shelter. Jean is obviously suffering from her failed, abusive marriage and lack of resources. Yet, anger and blame cloud her parents’ minds and close their hearts to her suffering. Sutra 1.33 advises us to cultivate compassion, a sympathetic consciousness, of another’s suffering. Our mind, then, remains stable and calm.

When faced with someone doing things that are wrong or harmful, this Sutra advises impartiality toward someone acting poorly. Many of us might stop at this and ask if this means ignoring someone’s harmful behavior.

I don’t think so. Yoga is about cultivating responsible, thoughtful action based upon seeing clearly what is in front of us. This part of the Sutra, I believe, directs us to withhold judgment about behavior because we cannot know the whole story behind it.

In Ferguson, Missouri this week, protests have turned violent following the shooting and death of Michael Brown, a young, unarmed, African-American man, by a white policeman. His death is being investigated, and the violence in response has been condemned.

Yet, we do not know the whole story. We can be disturbed and angry judging the behavior of the white policeman. We can condemn the behavior of African-American crowds angry over another case of police violence seemingly based on race. But, to be impartial means we don’t take events personally. We have to take more into account than just our own ideas and beliefs. And, we need “to understand that there are compulsions…which cause them [wrong-doers] to act as they do.” For that we need sympathy and understanding as well.

1Translation from The Wisdom of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, by Ravi Ravindra

 

Choosing Peace

Finding Peace blog image

Each one has to find peace within. And peace to be real must be unaffected by outside circumstances.”
      – Mahatma Gandhi

As I prepared for teaching my Wise Women class, I came across a short article, “An Inner Choice,” I had printed out in 2010 from the online site the “Daily OM.” The first line was in large type and immediately brought me up short: “There cannot be peace in the world until we have it in our own hearts and minds, our own families and neighborhoods.” It grabbed my attention because I, as I know many others, had been struggling with the news of war and violence, the images of children dying, the anguished voices of loss and hopelessness. If you are attentive to all this, it is hard to feel peaceful inside, and easy to feel powerless.

This article, however, was a realistic reminder that how we live our own lives – whether it is with anxiety or calm – has an influence beyond just ourselves. Because this is a choice we can make, we are not powerless. When we feel the turmoil of the world’s chaos and conflict, we need to look within ourselves. We need to ask ourselves: What is our own sense of peacefulness?

We all experience busy minds and conflicting emotions. It is in our nature as humans. The difference between those who experience peace and those who do not has to do with how we invest our energy, not who we are. As the article explained, those people who feel at peace do not invest their energy in disturbing and disquieting thoughts and feelings. Instead, they allow the thoughts and feelings to “rise and fall like the waves of the ocean without disturbing the deeper waters of peacefulness within.”

The Yoga Sutra defines yoga as the ability to stop the mind’s busyness and distraction so it can be still or silent. In yoga we have tools, such as postures, breathing techniques, chant, gestures, meditation, to help us calm the mind and emotions by creating space.

As we begin to create space in our bodies, minds and emotions, we also can pay attention to those things in our lives that create obstacles to feeling at peace. How is our diet? Do we get enough rest? Do we have too many commitments or commitments that feel burdensome? Do we have habits that create uneasiness or agitation? This self-observation or svadhyaya can bring awareness to these obstacles so we can seek positive change, giving us more space in our lives.

With a feeling of space, the turmoil of our minds and emotions can recede, and, in its place we can glimpse, if not connect to, the peace within ourselves. This peace is available to all of us. It is within us already. Even if we are distracted by the ruffled waters at the surface of our lives and in the world, we can set an intention to work toward getting in touch with our own peaceful center. This is the real power we have.