Advice

Life Situation or Life

Elizabeth Advice, Knowledge , , ,
2015-0817 blog image

2015-0817 blog image

A friend of mine shared a wonderful insight that has come to mind again and again over the summer. My friend’s insightful words center around a distinction he made between our “life situation” and our “life.”

Our “life situation” is just that – the situation(s) we find ourselves in: our jobs, ages, illnesses, losses, wealth or poverty, marriages, divorces, parenting, care giving, and so on, in other words, our activities, our health, our relationships, and our responsibilities. These things are ever-changing. But our “life” refers to something deeper – something abiding and unchanging within us.

Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra makes a distinction between the material, ever-changing aspects of our life and that which is eternal. The material aspect, prakriti, is synonymous with our “life situation” – our age, our physical and mental condition, our role in the world. That which does not change, purusa, is the eternal, unchanging aspect of ourselves, often referred to as the soul, consciousness or spirit.

The Yoga Sutra teaches that if we believe that our “life situation” is the only thing we truly are, then we will identify with those things in our life that are temporary and cause suffering. I often hear people say, “I am old.” Being “old” and the consequent changes in our physical, energetic, and mental systems that accompany aging create distress for many of us. Yoga teaches that believing our body to be who we are, rather than recognizing our spiritual nature as our essence, causes suffering.

This is not to say the body isn’t real or that suffering isn’t real. It is when we identify so strongly with the impermanent aspects of ourselves to the exclusion of anything else that we get into trouble. For example, if I tell myself I will only be happy if I lose 5 pounds, I tie my happiness to how my body looks.

Yoga is about coming to a place of clarity and understanding that we are more than this physical body whose natural course is to change over time. We grasp that our “life” is something much deeper than “I am old” or “I am overweight”. Then, the decisions we make start to reflect that clarity.

For me, the process of moving from making decisions solely based upon my life situation to those informed by purusa has not been easy. With consistent yoga practice and study over time, along with faith and the support of others, I find it a bit easier to trust in my higher self and am more aware of where my actions are based.

When we make decisions from a place of clarity, with a sense of peace, and a “settled heart,” then our outcomes are almost always positive. This is when we rest in purusa. This is when we are living our life.

 

OMG or OOPS

Elizabeth Advice, Mantras , , , ,
Image for 6/8/15 Blog

Image for 6/8/15 Blog

Whenever I go to study at my Vedic Chant workshops I learn something new – something that will not only help me to move forward in my chanting, but something that also can help me live my life with greater focus, peace, and self-confidence.

Before our workshop ended, Sonia Nelson, our “guru” of Vedic Chant, explained how we might approach our own chanting study once we were home and on our own. She did this by focusing on how we might behave when we see we are making a mistake in our chanting practice.

The first way she called the “OMG” reaction. We hear ourselves stumbling in our chanting, and we react as if our mistake is a crisis – “oh, my god.” As Sonia explained, this reaction creates fertile ground for the antarayas or obstacles, as described in Yoga Sutra I.30-31, to grow. Thoughts of self-doubt can arise about our ability to chant or what our teacher might think. As the reaction plays out, we may feel defeated in our endeavor, the mind is disturbed, we feel anxious, and we suffer. As this unfolds, we lose any opportunity to determine how we might proceed to deal with the mistake, itself.

The second way she called the “OOPS” response. We hear a mistake in our chanting and stop with “oops, what happened here?” Then we look more closely at the mistake to see how we might deal with it. Perhaps we need to break a phrase into syllables – small chunks – to practice and correct the error. Then we can rebuild the phrase by focusing on the syllable, adding another, chanting it several times, and adding another until we can chant the entire line correctly.

What we do not do with the “OOPS” response is trigger a crisis in our bodies and minds. Instead, our minds remain clear so we can move forward rather than staying stuck.

By now you can probably see how this model can help us in our everyday lives. We free ourselves from having to anxiously try to make every endeavor “perfect,” which, of course, we never can do. Nor do we have to pillory ourselves for every mistake. Instead, we can determine calmly the best action to take.

Chapter II of the Yoga Sutra gives us the eight limbs of yoga as a path to “discernment and clear perception.” The first limb or yama prescribes five principles to guide our relationships. The first principle is ahimsa, which is considered the most important. Ahimsa is the practice of “nonhurtfulness toward others and ourselves,” according to Nicolai Bachman in The Path of the Yoga Sutras. He goes on to say, “A nonjudgmental and forgiving attitude is essential to practicing ahimsa.”

I ask you to reflect: if you wish to make ahimsa a principle you practice, how are you going to respond to your mistakes – “OMG” or “OOPS?”

Coming Home

Elizabeth Advice, Health, Mindset , , ,
Red Flower image

Red Flower image

I just got off the phone with my dear friend and fellow yoga teacher Lynne Graham. Some of you may remember Lynne from the lovely practices she taught the Yoga for Wise Women class as she was completing her teacher training.

Lynne is one of those people who continues to learn about and delve more and more deeply into the study of yoga. In our conversation, she explained she has come to see problems that arise in life as opportunities to motivate further study of yoga, knowing the philosophy and practices of yoga hold insights and healing for challenges we experience. It is a way to approach positively what might have felt like a large obstacle.

As she labored over planning for a yoga class, Lynne explained, she decided to give up her usual routine of drinking coffee, recognizing that coffee was not helping her, and perhaps making the planning process more difficult.

I understood exactly how unfocused the mind can become after having too much caffeine. Rather than connecting more deeply with the tasks at hand, my mind is on caffeine is like a fly, buzzing here and there, landing briefly, then buzzing off to alight on another thought. Even without caffeine, I have found myself, from time to time, distracted, thinking answers to my problem lie outside myself – in a book, if I find the right page, in notes if I can only find them, in a website – any place other than within me. This kind of search is usually fruitless, just another distraction, really, from focusing on what I need to do.

Breaking from her coffee routine, Lynne decided instead to do some chanting, a breathing practice, and meditation. What she found was that this new approach yielded a focus, a certainty of direction for the class she would be teaching.

Her insight – beyond the immediate planning for her class – was to realize she already had the knowledge she needed. And, the way to access that knowledge was to make space to go within. This is the intention of our yoga practice: letting go of the distractions of the mind. In doing so we can come to see ourselves more clearly. In observing ourselves with greater clarity, we come to know ourselves, which is the goal of yoga.

Our yoga practice, done over time consistently, illuminates a path leading us to look within. It is where we can find answers, as well as peace, and faith. It is a going home.

Thank you, Lynne, for this reminder.

The Anniversary Tree

Elizabeth Advice, Seasons , , ,
The Anniversary Tree

The Anniversary Tree

Last Sunday my husband, Jim, and I celebrated our twenty-ninth anniversary. We had married the end of April as I had wanted a spring date, thinking it the perfect time to start something new.

On the day of our wedding, my brother-in-law and family brought us a young weeping cherry tree and planted it in our back yard. Each year since, we eagerly have awaited the knots of delicate pink blooms as if they were our anniversary gift.

But over the years the tree has waned, the blossoms fewer and the number of barren branches growing. We consulted an arborist and fed the tree to improve its vigor. We had years when we thought it looked hardier, and some when we were certain it was in its last season.

After the cold winter last year, the tree failed to blossom at all, the buds tight before turning to leaves. My mind is good at wandering to seek meaning or read a sign into such events. So you can imagine the fears raised by our anniversary tree’s absence of blooms.

Not knowing what to expect of the tree his year, we were full of hope for its rebirth as pink buds covered the branches. Our hopes were met with a number of knots of pink blossoms, even more lovely as goldfinches sat among them, waiting a turn for sunflower seeds. Even so, most buds remain tightly closed and many branches barren. Much will go when we prune the dead wood.

Sometimes we have things in our lives we cling to as they represent something important, something deeply significant and dear. We become so attached that to let go feels almost like a betrayal. In the case of our anniversary tree, as it blossomed it reminded us of our pledge to one another, our relationship. To see the tree age and fade reminded us not only of our own mortality, but also of the fragility of relationship.

I know we will miss our tree when we finally take it down. As with so many things now gone, we will still talk about it, perhaps frame a picture. But there comes a time to let go, to make room for something new.

Already we talk about replacing our wedding tree with something strong and hardy. Perhaps a red bud. And we don’t need to have a big tree, thinking we may not have the years it might take to grow it full and large. As I told Jim, instead we will plant with faith in something new to come. And, also hold in memory the starting point of something lovely, beloved.

Prerequisite to Letting Go

Elizabeth Advice, Knowledge , , ,
04-08-15 blog image

04-08-15 blog image

“Understanding the transitory nature of all things is prerequisite to letting go of expectations and attachments.”
The Path of the Yoga Sutras, Nicolai Bachman

Over the past few weeks in yoga classes, I suggested that students focus on the concept of “letting go.” After all, it is spring, and spring brings up the idea of cleaning, letting go of the detritus of winter. At a more internal level, it can mean letting go of those attitudes, habits, behaviors that no longer serve us.

As students discussed that one thing that they would like to let go of, I was reminded of the difficulty of doing this. Letting go of a house filled with things accumulated over a lifetime can feel like a heavy weight when a person wants to downsize to something more modest and easier to keep up. Such a task requires not only much work, but also the giving up of objects that feel connected to family and friends. Even recognizing that the objects are just that – material things – they can come to represent that person who is now gone.

In my last blog, I wrote about the concept in yoga of parinama vada, meaning “everything changes.” This reminds us that all those material things in our world change – the seasons, the weather, a house, ourselves. Even a mountain changes over time, as will our sun.

But yoga also teaches us that there is something which is constant, unchanging. That constant within us is called purusa, which means “that which sees,” or “that which sees correctly.” Unfortunately, the ability of purusa to see correctly is, for most of us, hampered. Purusa can only see through the window of the mind. Yet, past experiences, memories, beliefs, feelings cloud this window with thoughts about what we see in the material world. This happens constantly and most often we are unaware they are obstructing our ability to see clearly.

For example, I am at the food store, and I see a woman I used to work with walking toward me. Our relationship had been difficult, and I had always felt she had been critical of my work. So now, the old feelings are triggered along with these memories. I am seeing her through a window clouded with thoughts and feelings from the past. When she greets me smiling and with a warm hug, my response is hesitant. I cannot see her as she is in the present moment because my mind is so filled with the past.

We have been given the tools of yoga so that we might be able to clean the window of the mind. When purusa can shine, allowing us to see the world clearly, we have the ability to discern the best path for ourselves. We may decide good reasons exist for keeping the house we have been living in for so long, and as a result feel more accepting of our choice.

Alternatively, we may see our best interest lies in letting go so we might have a home easier to manage. In either case, we choose with a sense of acceptance because the clarity of purusa allows us the discernment to choose wisely.

The elegance of yoga rests in the opportunities it offers us to live our lives with greater peace and freedom. It is also the promise for those willing to come to practice with faith, constancy, and a positive attitude.

Pay Attention

Elizabeth Advice, Current Events, Seasons , ,

Frozen Conodoguinet Creek

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
…from “The Summer Day,” Mary Oliver

Thirteen degrees on our back porch as I poured sunflower seeds in a bucket to carry to and fill the bird feeders. Thirteen felt very cold, but as I walked across the front yard, I swear the sun warmed my face and penetrated the layers of clothing I wore. I like to think this was a February duel between the Arctic’s breath, not ready to recede, and the sun’s promise of the spring to come.

Standing beside the Conodoguinet, I looked upstream as I often do. Mostly frozen, the creek’s current continued to insist upon a stream of open water. But where only days earlier Canada geese had bedded down on the ice, and hooded mergansers had fished, all was still and quiet, save for a faint birdcall now and then.

Climbing the steps from the creek and crossing yard, still covered here and there with snow, I looked for the prints left by animals that had ventured out. A pair of large prints, perhaps a raccoon, led from the front of the house to under our neighbor’s porch. Clearly the community of rabbits, squirrels, birds, mice and moles, with whom we share this small plot of ground on the creek, have been busy in spite of the cold.

Several times I have run into friends over the last few weeks who, knowing I had taken February as a hiatus month, have asked, “How it was going?” I have found myself answering that it has been a month, so far, of mixed blessings. What it certainly has been is a month of paying attention. To the birds, to the weather each day, to the footprints in the snow, to cats, to the fire in the wood stove, to knitting and books, to the voices of friends and family, to the spirals of my own voice.

The poet Mary Oliver comes back again and again to this directive: “pay attention.” And, so it is with yoga, giving us the tools with which to bring attention to our practice, to ourselves, to our relationships, to our lives.

When Mary Oliver asks, “…what will you do with your one wild and precious life?,” I think my answer will be, “Pay attention.”

How Often Do You Experience Joy?

Elizabeth Advice, Mindset , ,

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?