Compassion

"The healing of our present woundedness may lie in recognizing and reclaiming the capacity we have to heal each other, the enormous power in the simplest of human relationships: the strength of a touch, the blessing of forgiveness, the grace of someone else taking you just as you are and finding in you an unsuspected goodness. Everyone alive has suffered. It is the wisdom gained from our wounds and from our own experiences of suffering that makes us able to heal." -Rachel Naomi Remen

On Sunday afternoon, I was sitting outside the yoga studio while a workshop was taking place inside.  It was a gloriously beautiful day, the kind that makes you feel happy to be alive: sunny, blue sky with fluffy, white, cotton ball clouds, hawks flying overhead casting large shadows upon the parking lot, and a hint of autumn in the air.  Just beautiful!  As I sat there, reveling in the day and keeping watch over merchandise that was for sale at the event, I gazed down at the sidewalk and noticed a small, black beetle lying on its back, slowly moving its legs, trying to right itself, but clearly losing strength and the energy to do so. It was dying. The strong afternoon sun was slowly creeping towards where this beetle was struggling and I knew that its suffering was about to increase.  Filled with compassion and lovingkindness for this tiny being, I suddenly found myself in a quandary: do I step on it to end its suffering, or do I just leave it to die in misery?  The Buddha-nature in me could not bring myself to kill it. It just seemed too brutal to do so, but to watch this living being suffer also seemed unbearable.  

After a minute or so, I scooped the beautiful beetle up into the palm of my hand and held it. I decided to remove it from the hot, sunny sidewalk. I walked it over to a patch of woods near the studio and placed it in a shady recess beneath a jasmine bush, thinking that it would at least be closer to the soft, cool earth - a more comfortable place to die, I imagine. I wished it a peaceful passing and quietly walked away.

As I made my way back to my place on the sidewalk in front of the studio, I was filled with the sudden realization of how much practicing yoga and meditation have changed my life. Years ago, I either would not have even noticed the beetle suffering on the sidewalk, or I would have smashed it by stomping down on it out of fear or ignorance.  Following this spiritual path has opened my eyes to the fact that all beings deserve compassion and lovingkindness, that this beetle's suffering is no different than my own. I now firmly realize that my enlightenment depends on this beetle. 

A few weeks ago in class, I talked about lovingkindness and came across the following excerpt from "Cultivating a Compassionate Heart: The Yoga Method of Chenrezig".  My encounter with the black beetle reminded me of it: 

"Often we see other sentient beings as hassles: 'This mosquito is disturbing me. Those politicians are corrupt. Why can't my colleagues do their work correctly?" and so on. But when we see sentient beings as being more precious than a wish-fulfilling jewel, our perspective completely changes. For example, when we look at a fly buzzing around, we train ourselves to think, 'My enlightenment depends on that fly'.'This isn't fanciful thinking because, in fact, our enlightenment does depend on that fly. If that fly isn't included in our bodhicitta (compassion and wisdom), then we don't have bodhicitta (compassion and wisdom), and we won't receive the wonderful results of generating bodhicitta -- the tremendous purification and creation of positive potential.

Imagine training your mind so that when you look at every single living being, you think, 'My enlightenment depends on that being. The drunk who just got on the bus -- my enlightenment depends on him. The soldier in Iraq -- my enlightenment depends on him. My brothers and sisters, the teller at the bank, the janitor at my workplace, the president of the United States, the suicide bombers in the Middle East, the slug in my garden, my eighth-grade boyfriend, the babysitter when I was a kid -- my enlightenment depends on each of them.' All sentient beings are actually that precious to us."

In "Compassion, the Supreme Emotion", Sharon Salzberg states that:  "Sometimes we think that to develop an open heart, to be truly loving and compassionate, means that we need to be passive, to allow others to abuse us, to smile and let anyone do what they want with us. Yet this is not what is meant by compassion. Quite the contrary. Compassion is not at all weak. It is the strength that arises out of seeing the true nature of suffering in the world. Compassion allows us to bear witness to that suffering, whether it is in ourselves or others, without fear; it allows us to name injustice without hesitation, and to act strongly, with all the skill at our disposal. To develop this mind state of compassion... is to learn to live, as the Buddha put it, with sympathy for all living beings, without exception."

We can become so bogged down in our small selves that we lose our perspective and become hardened to the suffering we encounter around us.  The question is, how can you, in all circumstances, break the shell of indifference and open your heart?  How can you recognize that your enlightenment, your peace, depends on that beetle, flat tire, difficult co-worker, or bill collector?  If we cannot extend our compassion to the challenging things, how can we hope to find peace?  

Until next time...

"Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it..." -Helen Keller

"The practice of compassion begins at home. We have our parents, our children, and our brothers and sisters, who perhaps irritate us the most, and we begin our practice of loving-kindness and compassion with them. Then gradually we extend our compassion out into our greater community, our country, neighbouring countries, the world, and finally to all sentient beings equally without exception.
Extending compassion in this way makes it evident that it is not very easy to instantly have compassion for "all sentient beings." Theoretically it may be comfortable to have compassion for "all sentient beings," but through our practice we realize that "all sentient beings" is a collection of individuals. When we actually try to generate compassion for each and every individual, it becomes much more challenging. But if we cannot work with one individual, then how can we work with all sentient beings? Therefore it is important for us to reflect more practically, to work with compassion for individuals and then extend that compassion further." -Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

Are You Awake?

One of my favorite teachers often employs a powerful approach while leading students through practice. While in the middle of a pose or even just sitting in silent meditation, he poses the question - sometimes in a whisper - "are you awake?"  This is a moving reminder for his students to remain mindful and not to slip into sleepy habits and to recognize that life is happening NOW. It prompts us to be awake and alive in the moment.  

Admittedly, I've been sleepy for the past week or so. Sleepy as in tired, yes, but more than that, sleepy on a deep, sub-conscious level.  Being a devoted student of yoga, I've experienced this before and realize that it's part of the process of unfolding and awakening. It's part of the ebb and flow of the journey.  It's the quiet "yin" to the more active "yang".  It's my body's way of saying "rest", my mind's way of saying "wake up", and my heart's way of saying "listen to me". The interesting thing about this deep sleepiness is that it makes it challenging to muster up the energy to get on my yoga mat, but it's precisely at these times when practice is most important.  When the sleepiness arrives I honor it physically by practicing primarily Yin Yoga.  Yin offers a wonderful opportunity to stop, listen and feel. I honor the mental sleepiness by getting on the meditation cushion and observing the root of the lethargy. I spend some time alone to listen to the voice of my heart.

The practice of yoga provides us with a ladder which we can use to climb up and beyond our everyday boundaries and the ruts we find ourselves in, towards greater understanding and awakening. Setting an intention to live mindfully is the first rung on that ladder.

Take a moment to set this intention: "My intention today is to be awake and aware of how I move, speak, act, and listen."

Until next time...

The Laughing Heart 
by Charles Bukowski

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Thorns

"One branch from an old plum tree extends splendidly;

thorns become attached to it in time." -Keizan Jokin

Sometimes when I think of my yoga and meditation practices I see them as beautiful, fragrant roses.  Delicate, sweet smelling, sometimes full and blossoming with layer after layer of petals opening, opening, opening.  Sometimes once those petals have blossomed, they drop away one-by-one as parts that were once useful but are now no longer needed. Or, sometimes those petals are wrapped up tightly like tiny buds full of possibilities, but they're not quite ready to emerge into the world of being.  But these roses are never without thorns.  When the rose of our practice blossoms so sweet and beautiful, our practice is easy, buoyant and peaceful, but there are inevitably times when we encounter the dark and prickly stickiness of thorns. Lately, my practice has been rife with prickly thorns.  When this occurs, my instinct - like so many of us - is to avoid the thorns or to wait until the rose becomes beautiful and fragrant again... to ride it out until things are prettier. But the practice isn't just about the beautiful, peaceful parts of life, sometimes it's purpose is to make things prickly in order to wake us up more fully.

Keizan Jokin, a revered zen teacher who lived in the 14th century who's two-line poem sits at the top of this page, illustrated with his simple words that we all encounter times where our practice resembles a branch from a wizened old plum tree; extending splendidly from the trunk of the tree, but not without spiny thorn-like twigs pushing out of its bark. Sometimes we feel that our practice is splendid. It flows and extends out of every part of us.  But like the old plum tree, in time we discover thorns growing on our practice (resistance, lethargy, doubt, judgement-you name it!).  One of my favorite teachers, Michael Stone, says that "sometimes we get a little too comfortable. So in the process of practicing asana and stilling the mind, we start to find that the thorns become the practice and how we meet the thorns is basically right when they start popping up."

Part of our spiritual maturation involves deeply feeling and working with the thorns that grow.  A really big part of our practice is leaving nothing out.  Flowing along with the easeful parts of ourselves and our experience, but also witnessing the thorns that grow upon the graceful limbs of our existence. Our task as human beings is simply to stay the course, to be the branch, the blossom and the thorn.  To not deny the stickiness or the presence of those thorns, but to watch and work with our reaction to them with equanimity. When we do this we begin to see that the beautiful blossoms of our practice are a result of navigating through and allowing the thorns to be part of us. 

"One branch from an old plum tree extends splendidly;

 thorns become attached to it in time."

And so I continue to get on my yoga mat and practice even though the thorns I encounter make it uncomfortable to do so.  I sit in silence and witness what's there with compassion. I arrive to what is, knowing that eventually I will be able to feel the soft petals of peace and drink in the beautiful fragrance of clarity.

When we come together as a group in class, the basic practice that we're doing first is to arrive, to calm down, to connect with the part of ourselves that is still and peaceful: our blossom.  We sit and we follow our breathing to the source of peace. We remind ourselves that the larger purpose of yoga and meditation is to connect with this calm, real, unsoiled part of ourselves.  Take a moment right now to close your eyes, connect with the slow, organic flowing of your breath.  Follow the breath into silence. Arrive.

Today, practice becoming settled and take care of the thorny parts that present themselves by offering them the space to be seen and felt.  When we follow the breath and begin to find mental and spiritual stillness, we begin to clearly see our own mind and allow it to rest in its natural state which is free from the thorniness and chatter that grows on us as a result of living in the world.  We allow our experience to blossom freely and we take care of the thorns with the same attentiveness that we regard the blossom.

Until next time...

Thorn and Rose
by Henry Van Dyke

Far richer than a thornless rose
Whose branch with beauty never glows,
Is that which every June adorns
With perfect bloom among its thorns.

Merely to live without a pain
Is little gladness, little gain,
Ah, welcome joy tho' mixt with grief,--
The thorn-set flower that crowns the leaf.

Interconnection

Look at this egg.  It's just an ordinary egg, right?  We've probably seen and eaten thousands of them over the course of our life.  We probably don't give them much thought as we crack them into a frying pan or beat them into a cake mix.

But look again. This time, see the chicken that laid the egg; the farmer that fed, housed and cared for the chicken and carefully collected the egg; the workers who packaged the egg in a carton and loaded the cartons onto a truck; the truck that picked the eggs up and drove them to the store; the stock boys who unloaded the cartons and stacked them in the dairy case. Now, go even deeper than that: the corn that fed the chicken; the soil, sun, rain, wind and dark starry nights that coaxed the seeds from the earth; the field hand who picked the corn; the person who engineered the truck that drove the corn to the farmer's silo, and so on.  When we begin the practice and process of seeing clearly, what we begin to realize is that we are here as a result of the labors of countless other beings. Our very lives are interconnected with the lives of all other sentient beings.  We are not alone... ever.

Monday was Labor Day.  Labor Day is a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country.  To me it's a wonderful opportunity to not only honor our own work, but it's also a reminder of how the efforts of others allow us to live comfortably. 

Remind yourself today - and always - that the people you meet, the products you use, etc, are there as a result of another's labor.  All sentient beings form an infinite tapestry, and life inextricably weaves us together.  We are here to support each other, not be separate from one another.

Until next time...

"Humankind has not woven the web of life.  We are but one thread within it.  Whatever we do to the web we do to ourselves.  All things are bound together.  All things connect.  -Chief Seattle


LOKAH SAMASTA SUKHINO BHAVANTU: May all beings everywhere be happy and free and may the thoughts, words and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all.

When we practice yoga asana, we practice taking the seat of others. We practice being the moon, the warrior, the dog, the cow, the cobra, and the trees. We take their form and connect with their essence. With time and practice, we begin to develop empathy for all beings and realize that we are not different from each other after all. We learn that all beings share the desire for happiness and freedom. (from the Jivamukti practice)

Staying Afloat

“If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.”

-Ajahn Chah

Several years ago my mother-in-law was vacationing at the beach.  While out for an early evening walk, she noticed a young boy swimming and splashing in a creek that ran along the beach. The creek was subject to the same currents and tides as the ocean and upon taking a closer look, she noticed that the boy wasn't actually splashing playfully but was struggling to keep his head above water. No one seemed to be supervising the boy and there was no one else around so she called out to the boy and asked him if he was ok.  The boy shook his head "no", so my mother-in-law jumped in the creek, clothes and all and swam out to the child. It didn't take her long to realize that the boy was stuck in a rip current and that she was caught up in it as well.

Riptides, or "rip currents", are long, narrow bands of water that quickly pull any objects in them away from shore and out to sea. They are dangerous but are relatively easy to escape if you stay calm. There are about 100 riptide related deaths per year in the United States, but most of these deaths are not caused by the tides themselves. People often become exhausted struggling against the current and cannot make it back to shore.  The key to escaping riptides is not to struggle against the current.

So, my mother-in-law grabbed the boy and tried to swim across the creek to safety to no avail. She was beginning to get tired.  The boy was exhausted. Thankfully, a man passing by called out to her and told her not to swim against the current, but rather to swim out of it by swimming parallel to the shore.  This is an exercise in trust. It can be scary to go with the flow of something so strong, but once my mother-in-law began to do this, she was released from the strong current and was able to get herself and the child back to safety.

So often in life it is our willingness to trust and let go of struggle that allows us to live more fully.  This reminded me of a post from the "Daily Om" that I read last month:

"Our lives are continually in motion, buoyed by the wave that is the universe's flow. As the wave rises and falls, we are carried forward, through life's high and low points. The universe's flow may take us to a place in life where we would rather not be. As tempting as it can be to fight the direction and size of this wave that propels us, riding the wave is intended to make life easier. When you ride the wave, your life can evolve naturally and with minimal effort. Riding the wave, however, is not a passive experience. It is an active process that requires you to be attentive, centered, and awake. You must also practice stillness so you can flow with, rather than resist, the wave's motion.

Because life is dynamic and always changing, it is when we try to make the wave stand still or resist its direction that we are likely to get pulled under by its weight. If you try to move against the wave, you may feel as if you are trapped by it and have no control over your destiny. When you reach a low point while riding the wave and find your feet touching bottom, remember to stay standing so that you can leap forward along with the wave the next time it rises. Trying to resist life's flow is a losing proposition and costly because you waste energy.

Riding the wave allows you to move forward without expending too much of your own efforts. When you ride the wave, you are carried by it and your head can stay above water as you go wherever it takes you. It can be difficult to trust the universe and let go of the urge to fight life's flow, and you may find it easier to ride the wave if you can stay calm and relaxed. Riding the wave will always take you where you need to go."

Life will never wholly allow us to float along without getting stuck in the occasional riptide.  Every moment is a chance to let go and feel peaceful. Today, can you practice letting go of the things that you resist?  Can you trust that you will be moved in the direction that you need to go?  

Until next time...

Fear

Nothing in life is to be feared.  It is only to be understood.  

~Marie Curie

A few days ago I was up before the sun came up and I went outside to meditate in the cooler morning air. It's a treat to do this when the weather permits and I was particularly grateful on this morning to be surrounded by fresh air and nature while connecting to what one of my teachers calls “big mind” (a state of consciousness that leads to serenity, clarity and bliss).  It’s a heavenly feeling to sit tall, close your eyes and sink into stillness, feeling the presence of God around and within you. 

As I sat and allowed my wavering thoughts to settle, I started to notice with great clarity the sounds going on around me, starting with the sounds furthest away: the soft drone of cars on the interstate, a distant train whistle, a siren in the a few miles away, a car starting a few streets over, cicadas, frogs and crickets singing their early morning choruses, the neighbor opening her front door to let her dog out. The longer I sat, the more aware I became of sounds closer to me: something (perhaps a squirrel) moving around in the grass to my right, the neighbors dog lifting a leg to pee on the herb garden next to me, the growling of my hungry belly, but something else also caught my ear.  It was much closer to me, perhaps just a foot or so away that I couldn't quite identify... a light scratching sound.  What was it?  

Scratch, scratch, scratch...

Of course being out in nature means, well, being out in nature... replete with all things natural, like... bugs.

I'm not a big fan of bugs.  I don't know who among us really is a fan of bugs unless, of course, you are an entomologist or an exterminator. So as I listened to this “scratch, scratch, scratch”  my mind automatically conjured up the image of a huge, hideous palmetto bug (i.e. a GINORMOUS roach) making its way toward me.  My thoughts took a turn, “What if there's more than one?!”,  “What if it climbs up the leg of the chair!?”,  “What if it crawls on me!?”, “What if, what if, what if”!!!!!?????”. For a moment I became paralyzed with fear. Fear holds us still, stifles our progress, and distorts our view of reality. 

Yoga/meditation offers us a doorway to self-realization by honing our awareness. This newfound awareness grants us the opportunity to help focus our mind.  With a focused mind we can separate fact from fiction - much easier than a confused mind. As practices, yoga and meditation offer us many tools for stilling the mind. The first of these is Pranayama (Yogic breath techniques). Breath is the primary link between mind and body. One of the first things we learn as students is how to use the breath to focus the mind. 

So, back to the RABID palmetto bug, once I came back to my breath and the rootedness of my body on this particular morning, I was able to let go of all the “what ifs” and find greater stillness.  I am happy to report that when I opened my eyes there were no swarming masses of snarling Palmetto bugs waiting to devour me as my mind had come to believe.  Just an empy patio, quiet in the early morning light.  The “scratch, scratch, scratch” I heard that invoked such fear in the first place?  Just a hungry caterpillar munching on a leaf next to where I was sitting...

On the mat, one emotion we often run into is fear.  We might hold back for fear of falling out of a pose.  We might have fear of appearing weak or foolish - or worse -hurting ourselves!  Next time you find yourself falling out of a pose, notice how you react to falling. Yoga teaches us that we can’t control what happens to us, but we can control how we choose to react.

Until next time...

"Fear is illusory; it cannot live...Courage is eternal, it will not die. Perils, calamities, dangers are the certain lot of every man who is a denizen of this world. Therefore, O Man! Fortify your mind with courage and patience. Fortitude, courage, presence of mind will sustain you through all dangers. Just as a rock on the sea-shore stands firm and the dashing of the waves does not affect it even a bit, even so a man who is endowed with courage is not affected by the dark perilous waves of this Samsara. He stands adamant in all trying conditions and circumstances and comes out victorious."

By Sri Swami Sivananda

Fire!

For thousands of years, yoga has been a tool to open the mind and body, bringing about great transformation. At its very core, yoga is a process that involves confronting your limits and mindfully going beyond them. It's a practice that leads to greater self-understanding and inner peace, which then becomes a peace that you share with the world. Ok, so I can hear you ask, "That's all well and good, but HOW does it do all that?". Here's my take on it:

Yoga begins to transform us by undoing the physical and mental obstacles and knots that block our energy, thoughts and potential. Transformation is a process - sometimes fast, sometimes slow and methodical - that restores and renews us. The transformation that yoga sparks can bring us closer to our true nature and make us feel, act and be more like our true selves: loving, compassionate, kind and connected to everything.  When we become more and more familiar with the part of us that is pure and peaceful, we begin to live more closely aligned with that more harmonious expression of ourselves. Yoga teaches us to hone and refine our thoughts, actions, speech and awareness which then releases our true essence. 

At its deepest level, yoga involves generating and moving energy and awareness.  We often misunderstand the idea of energy.  Being the type-A modern humans that we are, we often think that we have to push the body in order to get into the postures or punish ourselves mentally in order to gain greater understanding and clarity, when in reality it's the other way around. We use the postures to transform the body and to listen to its messages.   We use observation and awareness to understand the mind. We surrender and wait for an invitation from a deeper source to proceed.  I learned over the years (sometimes the hard way) that approaching postures and meditation as goals makes you less sensitive to the messages your body and mind are trying to send you. If you push too hard and fast instead of allowing your body/mind to open at its own pace, change cannot occur. But, if you focus on the process instead of the results, progress and opening come naturally.  

Yoga teaches us to tune into the energy we are made of and to use that energy to transform. Your manipura chakra (which is located at/near the solar plexus) is the source of your will, your imagination, your vision of the future, and your desire for action (the fire in your belly!). It is here that we come to terms with the past and "burn" away accumulated negative energy associated with past decisions, ideas, actions (think of digestion!).  The heat of manipura  is used creatively to transform negative qualities into positive ones.  

Last week in class, we used this transformative "fire" energy to purify our bodies, minds and spirits. Using fire building pranayama techniques such as bhastrika and kapalabhati (see video below) we stoked our inner furnaces and created the energy needed to move the heat and burn away blockages.  Mixing steady vinyasa with longer held standing poses centered around the breath, we created focus and opening, leaving us feeling refreshed and renewed.

What would you like to transform into?  Set a clear intention then tap into the inner wisdom and will power that resides deep within you to move in the direction of your deepest desire.

Until next time...

Sunday's Fire Playlist:
"Invocation"- Manju Jois
"Les Chant Des Fauves"-Tinariwen
"Keepin' It Real"-Shaggy
"Ganesh Is Fresh"-MC Yogi
"Dub In Light"-Telepath
"Jaia Ganesha-Dum Dum Project
"Punjabi Five-O-Dum Dum Project
"Mission"-EOTO
"Shanti/Ashtangi"_Madonna
"Groove Holmes"-The Beastie Boys
"Nar Djenetbouba"-Tinariwen
"Ikyadarh Dim"-Tinariwen
"Brick House"-Sara K.
"Afours Afours"-Tinariwen
"1st One Out"-Brian Carson
"Without Standing"-Lusine LCL