Sense of Urgency--The Need for Creating a Home Practice

“Practice and Detachment are the means to still the fluctuations of the mind…And this practice will become firmly rooted when it is cultivated skillfully and continuously for a long time”

~Yoga Sutras of Patañjali I.12,14

This is a picture of a clock in the kitchen of The French Laundry, one of the top restaurants in the world. (Caveat and apologies-I pulled this image from Google and do not have photo credit info). Every time someone in that kitchen looks at the clock, they are reminded that time is valuable.

Swami Sivananda writes anecdotally that he has known some students who focus totally on asana practice and neglect meditation, saying they will do that when they are older. Swami S. chastises this attitude and encourages students not to wait because there is no guarantee that tomorrow will come.

How many times have you approached your practice and said “I don’t feel like it today, I’ll do it tomorrow?” How many times have you thought “Well, I really should practice,” or “I wish I had practiced?” 

I have been there, too. 

I can say with complete honesty that there are days I did not practice and wished I had, but I have never once come away from practicing thinking “Boy I wish I hadn’t practiced today.”

We have a very short time to do a very large amount of work.  In a restaurant kitchen, especially a 3* Michelin kitchen like the French Laundry, there is so much work to be done.  Perfection is a requirement, not an option, and the guests are waiting.  Every dish must be executed with speed, precision, and finesse. We need to cultivate this mindset with our yogic practices as well.  The main difference though: Cooks know what time service starts. The deadline is well defined.  In yoga, we do not know when ‘time’s up,’ so we need to take advantage of every opportunity to build our practice.

We can make great strides by cultivating a home practice.  A little bit every day will move us much farther along than practicing a lot one day a week, or practicing a lot during one week of yoga vacation then not doing anything for weeks.

Practicing at home, on your own, with no teacher watching or motivating you is the single best thing you can do for your practice.  A little movement—no need to try handstand lotus, Sun Salutations are quick and easy—and a little sitting still; that’s all you need to start with.

I have a great idea.  Why not come to my workshop on Saturday, March 8th and learn how to create a home practice?  We’ll talk, we’ll do, and I’ll make sure you have a nice little tool to take home with you.

How do I know my method works?  Because I do it. I have been practicing at home, near daily, for about 10 years.  The method I’m presenting is what I do, only shorter—this is only a starting point, a seed which will grow with time.   No untested theory, no flavor of the month sequencing, no blind retelling of a celebri-yogi’s dvd.  This workshop is based in my own direct experience which has been cultivated and has evolved over time. My sincere hope is that by creating a habit, you will find enjoyment and the motivation to make this practice a part of your life.

Do not wait! Start to build your home practice today!

Ravana Encounters Shiva

In honor of Shivaratri, a story from The Ramayana:

Listen Billy:

Once upon a time, in India...

Fresh off his victory over Indra, Ravana’s ten heads could barely contain his ego. “If heaven crumbled beneath my fists, I can easily destroy the god of destruction,” he reasoned. He headed directly toward Mount Kailash convinced he could best Shiva.

Approaching Mount Kailash, Ravana’s progress was impeded by a huge wall. Ravana stopped, confused.

A voice boomed like thunder. “No one is allowed on Mount Kailash while Lord Shiva sports with Parvati.”

Ravana’s ten heads scanned ten directions for the owner of the voice. Looking up, he saw the face of a bull poking through the clouds. The obstacle was not a wall, but Shiva’s bull, Nandin.

“Indra and the gods in heaven cower at my shadow. They run in fear at the sound of my voice. You are nothing but a steak waiting to be cooked for my dinner. Move before I call for my cook.”

Nandin scowled. “I could impale you on my horn and parade your dripping body through the streets of Lanka as easily as I swish flies with my tail. But Grandfather’s boon must prove true.” Nandin’s face twisted, contorted, blurred, then reformed as the face of a monkey. “Animals with faces like mine will mark your downfall.”

Ravana’s left eye and left arm throbbed. If he could not go up the mountain to Shiva, perhaps he could bring Shiva down the mountain.

“I will see you on my table, steak.” Ten heads spat at Nandin.

Ravana dug his twenty hands into the ground at the base of Mount Kailash. With little effort, he lifted the mountain over his ten heads and began to shake it.

At the summit of the mountain, Parvati held Shiva, shaking with fear. The great god Shiva smiled. He knew just who was responsible for this interruption, and he knew that he could not prove Brahma’s boon untrue.

But he could still teach Ravana some manners.

Shiva pressed his big toe ever so slightly into the ground, forcing the entire mountain back into place. Ravana was trapped. His immeasurable strength was nothing compared to Shiva’s.

Ravana knew he could not just wait until Shiva got bored and decided to do something else. The Lord of Meditation knew patience. The Lord of Meditation was also the Lord of Destruction. With Shiva pissed off and patient, Ravana was going nowhere for a very long time.

Shiva gets pissed off very easily, yet his mood can be changed very easily. Shiva appreciates a good song.

Ten heads hold a huge ego, which is bad, but they can sing a beautiful chorus. No one knows what song Ravana sang. If I was telling the story, and I am, I would say that he sang my favorite song about Shiva:

“Hara Hara Mahadeva Shambho, Kashi Vishvanatha Gange.”

After a hundred years of hearing this song beautifully repeated, Shiva’s anger subsided enough for him to lift his toe, freeing Ravana. Ravana quickly beat feet.

Back in Lanka, considering himself safely out of Shiva’s earshot, Ravana declared (quietly, because he did not really believe he was out of earshot) that he faced Shiva and Shiva did not kill him, so Ravana must have won. His ten heads told this story to each other so many times that Ravana believed it. Satisfied that he bested the God of Destruction, Ravana considered himself the undisputed lord of the world.

While Ravana sang under Mount Kailash, the gods approached Vishnu.

“Brahma refuses to change his boon,” they whined, rubbing their bruised bodies. “You must do something.”

Vishnu thought. He knew Brahma’s boon protected Ravana against death from gods and celestials, but he did not ask for protection from humans and animals.

“Fear not. I have remembered what Ravana has forgotten. I will assume a human form, taking on all the limitations of the flesh. I must also assume the limitations of the human mind, forgetting my divine essence. I have put into motion a plan that will cause the destruction of the rakshasa Ravana.”

Vishnu disappeared from heaven and appeared in the womb of Kausala as the seed that would grow into Rama. The rest of the gods, not wanting to be left out of the fun, disappeared from heaven and appeared as seeds in the wombs of millions of monkeys and bears.

Back on Mount Kailash, Shiva sat in meditation, focusing on the one sound. That sound was RAMA. Like the Cheshire Cat, Shiva’s form faded away.

In Kishkindhya, a little monkey was born, the product of the union of Vayu, god of the wind, and Anjana, a beautiful monkey. Instead of crying, the baby monkey took his first breath on Earth and said RAMA.

Arunachala Hill--considered to be an earthly incarnation of Lord Shiva

                                       

Once Apana Time

My son recently began taking karate, which is great because I have been learning, through osmosis, the forms and the Japanese vocabulary as he learns them.  I have the utmost respect for the teachers, the assistants, and the dojo. 

During class, the teacher often asks the kids “What is the purpose of Karate?”  The answer the teacher is looking for is “Self-defense.” 

The real answer is “To prepare the mind for enlightenment.”

Now I understand that when teaching kids to punch and kick, it is good to emphasize that the techniques are for defense, not attack.  No one wants to see a bunch of Cobra Kai’s running around the playground.  I also understand that mention of “enlightenment” is not necessarily good for business—as it is so readily confused with religion.

"Enlightenment" is defined as the realization that there is no independent existence--or, more bluntly, "Enlightenment" is the act of shutting the heck up for a minute and realizing that I am not the center of the universe. 

I find the connections between the martial arts and yoga fascinating.  At their core, all of these systems seek to create discipline in the body which helps to still the mind to prepare it for meditation.  The forms in the martial arts create a healthy body, and they create an attention to movement. Like asana, when doing a sequence, the goal is to still the thinking mind and act from awareness.  How useless the thinking mind is in a sparring match!  “He’s going to punch with his left, so I will block with my…” KNOCKOUT!  Observation, anticipation, action without internal commentary are all cultivated through these practices.

In yoga, we use asana as a mechanical means to cleans the body and unite apana, the normal downward flow of energy, with prana, the  normal upward flow of energy, in samana, the navel region. This is why in some systems there is great emphasis on mula and uddiyana bandhas—these reverse the normal downward flow of energy and unite prana and apana respectively.  We concentrate on the navel center, the manipura chakra, which stimulates the digestive fire and generates heat to burn away impurities in the body. This is the same as the Dan Tien in Chinese and the Hara in Japanese.

The connection between yoga and the marital arts can be traced to one person: Bodhidharma.  Bodhidharma was an Indian Buddhist monk who arrived at Shaolin Monastery somewhere around 523-527 AD.  He found the monks were too physically weak (read: fat and lazy) to keep up with their meditation practices. He taught them a series of external and internal exercises that were very closely related to yogic asana in order to create the physical and mental strength needed to practice meditation.  From these exercises the various systems of Kung Fu and Qi Gong developed. Bodhidharma is known as the first Zen patriarch. Zen teaches that enlightenment can happen in a flash while the practitioner is still in possession of the body.

Yogic sages also recognized that physical practices are a necessary step to prepare the mind for meditation.  The process of Hatha Yoga has only one purpose—to ready the mind for Raja Yoga (meditation) by mechanically manipulating the energy within the body.

Even more interesting is that both yogic and Buddhist practices set the ultimate goal not as achieving enlightenment, the total realization that there is no independent existence, but on renouncing even enlightenment until all other beings achieve it first.

Karate, Kung Fu, Yoga and the other systems are acts of service.  The practitioner does great service by passing on what they have learned so that it may help another progress on their path. Krishna states in The Bhagavad Gita “Even a little practice will protect you from the greatest fear [that is, the fear that there is nothing more, nothing beyond the impermanent world]” (II.40)

“Protect you…” I guess “Self-defense” is the right answer after all. 

I hope the teachers don’t mind when my son gives this long version as his answer.

He's Back!

 

The Mighty Mighty BossTones "He's Back" (and "Simmer Down")

So I've been away for awhile.  I can make up excuses about being busy (I truly hate that word--we are all busy) or explain that writing a book, teaching 2 writing classes in addition to a full-time job, and taking a temporary elevated position in addition to those things take up a lot of time.

But the truth of the matter is I've just been away.

Now I'm back.

The first thing I did go get back was to return to a very demanding asana practice.  Rajas (intensity) to overcome the overwhelming state of tamas (inertia) that I have been in for the last several months.

You want to know something?  I forgot how much fun yoga can be.

Not just jumping around and contorting through the Primary Series, although it IS nice to feel strong again after 15 or so jumps to handstand, but the whole thing:  chanting, japa, asana, pranayama, meditation.  It feels good to sing with joy again.

Even though I did get away from asana  practice, I remained diligent with chanting and japa.  They were lacking in bhava (faith), I will not hide that.  Yet I still did them.  I listened and sang along to kirtan on the way to and from work.  

Without those things, I would have imploded.  

I had to confront myself and come to terms that "life" and "stuff" changed, and that I was refusing to change with it, refusing to adapt to circumstances as they were.

Once I did, the light came back.  The desire to practice again with joy returned.

I truly understood how valuable some practice, in my case japa and chanting, is, even if it is only mechanical. Practice will get you through whatever "it" is that closes in from time to time.

My offering to you: March 8th, 4-6 PM at Hudson River Yoga, "Creating a Home Practice."  I know this method works because it formed the basis for what got me out of my funk.  It created the foundation that allowed me to re-discover my love for the science of Yoga.  I will provide you with all the tools you need to create a solid, consistent home practice.

It is good to be back.

रमा रमा रमा 

Of All the People I've Never Met

Of all the people I've never met, Neem Karoli Baba, Maharaj-ji, has exerted the greatest influence over my practice over the last few years.  September 11th is the 40th anniversary of Maharaj-ji's mahasamadhi, the conscious exiting of the body.

Image from http://www.kalimandir.org/shop/index.php?app=ecom&ns=prodshow&ref=PH56

Maharaj-ji never taught, yet he was a great teacher. He did not leave a volume of work, he did not say "do asana," "meditate,"or "go to a cave." He just was.  He fed those that came to him. He offered his endless love.

Without Maharaj-ji, Richard Alpert would just be a stoned out-of-work ex-Harvard professor instead of Ram Dass. Jeff Kagel would still be singing in Blue Oyster Cult, or maybe still driving a bus in New Paltz instead of singing the Name as Krishna Das.

Without Krishna Das, I would not have the mantra which begins and ends my day.  I would not have been inspired to learn the Hanuman Chalisa, nor been inspired to read The Ramayana.  I may not practice asana everyday as I once did, but I do not miss a day of reciting the Chalisa.

Maharaj-ji is said to have been an incarnation of Hanuman, the ideal devotee of Lord Rama, the physical embodiment of  love and devotion.  Like the Buddhist Bodhisattva, one who has attained enlightenment but refuses to accept it until all being have also attained it, Hanuman chooses to stay separate from Rama in order to serve.

Krishna Das recounts that Maharaj-ji would hold up one finger.  "All One." Feed everyone. Love everyone. There is no "you" and "them," no "this" or "that."  It is all One.

Maharaj-ji had a way of knowing exactly what his devotees needed in order to progress on their path, pushing buttons to help overcome anger.  Disappearing to help break the cycle of attachment. Yet his Grace kept his devotees from going too far over the edge. That Grace was always there, the devotees only needed to see it.

Somehow I am blessed to have been influenced by this man who died a year before I was born.  Entirely too many coincidences have turned me in his direction. Every time I want to turn away, want to take up jogging instead of kritan, want to drive with the top down with at least a pint of ether in the trunk, something happens that smacks me upside the head like the knowledge I should have had a V 8. And that something keeps me going.

And that something is Maharaj-ji.

Even with my limited understanding of his life, I must echoing Lord Rama in saying I can never repay what I owe that monkey.

Jai Ram!

Observe Don't Disturb

My son is very observant. He is always pointing out bugs, camouflaged animals, unusual plan-life. Observation leads to curiosity. Curiosity can lead to squished bugs, fleeing animals, and plants no longer connected to the ground. A saying I have adopted, and my son has responded well to is: Observe Don't Disturb.

We learn when we observe.  We see patterns, we gain understanding.  Things happen because that is the way they happen.  When we disturb, when we interfere, we are placing our ideas first.  This bug looks gross <squish> I want to pet that turtle <snap! ouch!> Instead of learning, disruption leads to attachment (this flower looks great on the table) and aversion (squish).

This axiom forms the cornerstone of our yogic practice.  If yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind, before we can consider attempting to cease those fluctuations, we must first observe the mind and the fluctuations which occur. Once we do make it to the point of employing practices aimed at cessation of the fluctuations, we still observe.  There is an ongoing cycle: apply technique, observe results, adjust as needed, apply, observe, adjust, repeat.

Where we get into trouble is that we tend to combine observing and disturbing.  We try to DO instead of watching. We believe, quite incorrectly, that if we are not DOing something, especially some sort of active masochistic, sweaty practice that leaves us sore for days, then we are doing nothing.

Both Swamis Sivananda and Vivekananda liken the mind to a monkey, drunk and stung by a scorpion.  If you try to bring the monkey under control, it will fight you with all its might.  If you give it some space, eventually, eventually, it will settle down.

Let's take asana.  Asana is a wonderful place to start our practice.  We are forcing ourselves to pay attention to two things we do constantly: move and breathe.  We are purposefully putting ourselves in difficult situations to see how we deal with being in difficult situations.

All to often, instead of observing, we find ourselves disturbing. Does this sound familiar:  OK, legs straight, toes together, grab the big toes, wait, is my back straight? I think my greater trochanter is not internally spiraling correctly. I could do this yesterday.  Do I need to pick up milk? Why aren't my legs straight? Push a little further. OUCH! That's it! I'm (Jesusjesusjesus) DOing it!

To make matters worse, the teacher comes over in the middle of this little monologue and "adjusts" you by forcing your body to a place where is shouldn't go then tells you you're doing a good job.

Here's the truly difficult part of asana: observing.  If we could just for one minute forget all the BS that yoga teachers tell us about the proper alignment in this or that pose, that "advanced" means you have to be a puddle of sweat with a popped hamstring and a heal behind your head, and just learn to observe ourselves without judgement, our practice would become much more fruitful much more quickly.

Yes, we don't want to get hurt, so there is something (not much, but something) to be said for alignment.  We need to have our knees pointed in the same direction as our toes so we don't have to deal with the fluctuations caused by a trip to the orthopedic surgeon, but we do not need to focus on creating a 23.56479 degree medial spiral of our spleenoid process as a measure of success or failure.

Try this. During practice, notice if you are building a pose like you are building a model (set A here, rotate B, align C...) and if you are chastizing yourself for not being in a certain expression of the pose.  Notice if you fall over, are you mad, laughing, or indifferent.  Then, here's the most important part:

Go onto the next pose.

Just becoming aware of the monologue is the first step.  With no judgement.  Without trying to stop it.  In time, with continued observation, it will stop.

Observe, don't disturb.

Elevation

My four year old son asked to hear the story of Visvamitra and Vasistha. I reached for a copy of the Ramayana.  He checked me and said "I don't want you to read it, I want you to tell me by talking."  How could I argue?

Listen Billy:

Long before the birth of Rama, Visvamitra was of the kshatriya caste, a warrior king. We know him now as a Brahmin.  Caste is not decided by birth, rather by a person's fundamental nature.  It is possible to elevate one's self, as Visvamitra did, but it is not easy.

During a tour of his kingdom, Visvamitra visited the hermitage of Vasistha. He was not yet the royal priest of Ayodhya, yet his spiritual power was well known even then.  Upon Visvamitra's arrival, Vasistha sought to provide the welcome and hospitality befitting a visit from the king. Visvamitra appreciated the gesture, however, he did not want to disturb the ashram, insisting Vasistha's desire to perform service more than fulfilled any obligation as a host.

Vasistha was not to be deterred. He reminded Visvamitra that the host who does not feed his guest is destined to dine on his own flesh in the next life.To avoid upsetting the Brahamana, Visvamitra accepted the invitation to dinner.

Vasistha called upon his cow of plenty, Sabala. The cow produced the finest foods of every variety, which was offered first to Visvamitra then to his entire entourage of thousands. Visvamitra was amazed by the power of this cow and became overcome with the desire to possess her.

"Brahmana, I will give you 100,000 of my finest cattle, along with all of the attendants necessary to care for them, in return for this one animal."

"Dear king, I appreciate your gift, but I cannot part with this cow.  This wonderful animal has assisted me with the performance of many rites which have benefited the entire world. Without her, I will not be able to continue my bound duty to serve and protect creation."

"Brahmana, as a King, the scriptures state that I should be offered the finest of everything.  It is your duty living in my kingdom to give me what I ask for."

Vasistha could not argue.  Visvamitra spoke the truth.  Although saddened, he relented and Visvamitra took possession of Sabala.

Sabala broke free and ran to Vasistha. "What wrong did I commit that you so easily send me away? How have I not served you correctly?" she asked with tears in her eyes.

"Dear Sabala, you have done no wrong.  It is a king's duty to take what he desires, using any force necessary."

"My master, it is said that a Brahmin's spiritual strength eclipses the physical and martial strength of a king."

 "I am required to exercise forgiveness and non-violence."

"All you need to do is to order me to stay, and the King will not be able to move me."

"Stay!"

At Vasistha's word an army of thousands sprang from Sabala instantly subduing Visvamitra's party.

Visvamitra became entranced witnessing Vasistha's power.  He resolved to gain that power for himself and set upon severe ascetic practices as a means of pleasing Shiva and receiving a boon.

Through years of practice, Visvamitra mastered difficult asanas and succeeded in restraining the flow of breath for hours at a time all while focusing his thoughts on Shiva. Pleased, the god appeared before him and offered a boon.

"Great Lord, as a King I am skilled in the art of human warfare.  But I have no knowledge of the weapons used by the gods.  Grant me this knowledge."

"So be it," declared Shiva.  Instantly Visvamitra understood the weapons of the gods, knew the mantras to call them, and possessed the skill to wield them. Feeling unstoppable, he returned to Vasistha, convinced victory was already his.

Standing outside Vasistha's ashram, Visvamitra called: "Oh great Vasistha, you had bested me previously.  Through severe penance, I have become more powerful than you.  Feel my revenge."

Vasistha observed Visvamitra from the entrance to his cottage in silence, leaning on his staff.  Visvamitra called upon all of the divine weapons. The sky darkened. Visvamitra blazed like a thousand suns and all manner of arrows, maces, spears, lightening, and countless other forms of weapons sped toward Vasistha. There was a blaze as the weapons found there mark.

Then nothing happened.  Vasistha stood as before, having absorbed and dissipated all of the divine weapons.  "Great king, I bow in respect to you and the austerities you have performed.  I reject the gift of violence you have sought to bestow upon me." Vasistha returned to his ashram.

Once again Visvamitra stood in awe of the Brahmin's power.  He resolved to increase his austerities. He traveled to the Himalays and spent the entire winter submerged to his neck in an icy lake.  In the summer, he traveled to the south, passing the hottest part of the year naked in the blazing sun surrounded by bonfires.  For hundreds of years he stood on one foot, with arms upraised, chanting the names of Shiva.  Through these severe ascetic practices, his spiritual power increased.

During this time, Vasistha was appointed as the royal priest of Ayodhya by King Trishanku, a distant relative of Lord Rama. Toward the end of his reign, King Trishanku came to desire to enter heaven while in possession of his body.  He asked Vasistha to perform the necessary rites.  Vasistha replied that this is forbidden by scripture.  It is the immortal, undying soul which unifies back with the Divine, not the limited, finite vehicle of the body.

Upset that his priest would not help, he sought out Visvamitra, whose intense practice was by now well known.  The king also knew of the rivalry between the two and used this to his advantage to convince Visvamitra to perform the necessary rites.

Visvamitra  conducted the sacrifice.  King Trishanku began to rise and ascend toward Heaven.  Indra, King of Heaven, observed the fleshy body of the King approaching. Offended by the king's attempt to enter Heaven in the flesh, Indra send the king back to Earth.

Visvamitra became enraged.  If the gods would not let the king enter their Heaven, he would create one of his own.  Visvamitra exercised all of his spiritual power to bring forth a new Heaven and installed Trishanku as king of both the Earth and the new realm.

The gods quickly realized that the creation of this new Heaven disrupted the balance of the created universe.  Indra went to Visvamitra and begged him to stop.  In a moment of clarity, Visvamitra realized that his pride and anger got the better of him.  He asked Indra how he could still honor his promise to Trishanku.  Indra shrunk the new Heaven and placed it in the Southern sky.  There Trishanku still enjoys the bliss of final unification, while the rest of creation remains in balance.

Realizing his error, Visvamitra again adopted a severe ascetic practice.  This time he sat if silent meditation.  Hundreds of years went by and his power grew.  The gods, worried that he would once again use his power to destroy the universe, set out to divert him from his efforts.  The sent the Apsara (a nymph) Menaka to him.  Menaka bathed in a lake near Visvamita's meditative seat. Hearing the tinkling of her ankle bells, Visvamitra opened his eyes.  He became entranced, and they sported together.

One hundred years passed in the blink of an eye.  Visvamitra realized that he had fallen victim to his lust, thereby expending his spiritual merit.  He sent Menaka away and re-doubled his efforts.  Again the gods sent another Apsara, Rambha, to seduce him.  Upon sensing Rambha's presence, Visvamitra glanced at her and turned her to stone. Realizing that he was overcome by anger, he resolved to completely control his senses.

Another thousand years passed.  Visvamitra's storehouse of spiritual merit grew and eclipsed that of many of the lesser gods.  Brahma, fearing that Visvamitra's penance would disrupt the balance of the universe again, appeared before Visvamitra and granted him the status of Brahmin.  Brahma then went before Vasistha and requested that he personally visit Visvamitra and welcome him as an equal.  Vasistha did just that, and the two formed a strong friendship.

We are reminded of this story through the asanas dedicated to the two sages.  Visvamitrasana and Vasisthasana are similar, but the former is more difficult than the latter because Visvamitra had to endure severe penance to become a Brahmin, whereas Vasistha was born a Brahmin.

Vasisthtasana (lt) and Visvamitrasana (rt) by Sri Dharma Mittra. Photos publicly available on http://www.dharmayogacenter.com