Come On In!

Have you ever experienced something that you disliked more than anything? Something that you've expended great amounts of effort and energy to avoid?  Perhaps the dentist, or airplanes, dining alone or your in-laws?  Conversely, is there something that was so lovely and wonderful that you just couldn't quite let go of the memory of it, so much so that nothing else quite measures up?  The truth is we all have had these experiences to one degree or another. We all have emotions (joy, anger, sorrow) or possibly ideas (insecurity, judgement, expectation) that we cling to, or things that we push away.

This morning, just prior to class, I had an appointment that I had been avoiding for several weeks.  To an observer it probably would have looked like something that was simple enough and really shouldn't have demanded the energy that I put into resisting it. I could see that I was fighting it, so I sat with the resistance for a while and then made the call to set up the appointment.  Let me tell you, I was cranky about it up until I got there - it wasn't a pretty sight!   After the appointment was set up, I thought of how very indicative it is of us as humans to have a tendency to push away what we don't wish to see or feel, or to clog ourselves with things that we just can't let go of. The wise ol' yogis of yore called this "attachment" and "aversion", and believed that these two actions are what cause the bulk of our suffering. For the past few weeks I had been feeling aversion to the appointment and it was causing me to suffer.

The yoga sutras say that attachment is "that which dwells upon pleasure" and aversion is "that which dwells upon pain".  We can hold on to memories of the past, or knowledge, beliefs, or expectations of how things should or should not be, thinking that this will bring us happiness.  We can beat ourselves up for dark or mean-spirited thoughts that we've had or an unkind word that was spoken.

So we practice to honestly observe when and where we are holding on or pushing away. We practice to physically, mentally and spiritually create space to welcome all the things that arrive at our door with compassion, acceptance and equanimity. To clean house so to speak, we seek to accept that there are things within our day-to-day experience that we have aversion to. It's a fact of life. But rather than push them away (aversion!), or cling onto them for dear life (attachment!), we allow them to pass through as friends, joyfully greeting them with open arms as they arrive and wishing them well as they leave.

After sitting with my aversion, the reason behind it started to become clear to me. With this clarity, I was ready to accept my fears about the appointment and invite them in with compassion and even a sense of gratitude. 

What are you currently pushing away or holding on to?  What are the things that you have been pushing away or clinging to for many months or even years?

The idea is not to stop the resisting or the clinging. Rather, the idea is to make room for them, invite them in and then let them be.

"Do not try stopping or pushing thoughts away.  Make room for them, observing them as thoughts and letting them be." -Jon Kabat-Zinn

What's clogging your inner guest house?  What are you spending time and energy pushing away?  What are you unwilling to let go of?  What are you stubbornly resisting?

Whatever the cause of your resistance open to receiving these guests. Welcome whatever arrives at your door.

Until next time...

The Guest House

by Rumi 

This being human is a guest house. 

Every morning a new arrival. 

A joy, a depression, a meanness, 

some momentary awareness comes 

as an unexpected visitor. 

Welcome and entertain them all! 

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, 

who violently sweep your house 

empty of its furniture, 

still, treat each guest honorably. 

He may be clearing you out 

for some new delight. 

The dark thought, the shame, the malice, 

meet them at the door laughing, 

and invite them in. 

Be grateful for whoever comes, 

because each has been sent 

as a guide from beyond.

To help accept new guests, try this:

From Posture to Breath Awareness

by Rolf Sovik

Space is around you and within you. The entire universe is pervaded by space. Normally we pay attention to the objects that rest in space, but you can also sense the space in which things rest. But to do this you will need to tune yourself to it. The sense of space is apparent when you are quiet, breathing, and paying attention.

With your eyes closed, the most self-evident space is the one you are occupying in your sitting posture. As you relax, your body becomes like a space within a space. You perceive it as almost void—as space-like—resting in the vaster space around you.

Now let your breath flow into this space as you inhale. Let the inhalation seem to expand within you until the entire space is filled. As you exhale, your breath shrinks within you as if it were disappearing into your heart center, at the top of the diaphragm. Regularly pulsing in this way, the breath expands, filling the space in which your body rests, and then emptying it. You breathe as if your whole body breathes.

Continue watching the flow of the breath. Don’t imagine that you are reaching enlightenment, dissolving your ego, awakening kundalini, or undergoing any other radical transformation. There are many, many miles to go before any such profound experience will take place. Simply watch the flow of breath with a sense of contentment.

As you continue you may notice that you develop a less forceful and more serene breath. One of the effects of the practice is that the flow of breath becomes very fine. As it does, your awareness is freed to turn even further inward.

"To Tea or Not To Tea": The Meditation of Medicine

As I sit here typing, a mug of steaming Ayurvedic herb tea sits to the left of the keyboard.  Prescribed to me by my Ayurvedic doctor, these herbs are meant to boost my immune system and reduce the amount of inflammation my body seems to be producing.  They are to be taken as a sort of "tea" mixed with hot water three times a day.  Doesn't seem too egregious, right?  So why am I so resistant to drinking the tea? The obvious issue is that the herbs taste bad.  Well, not so much bad, as bitter, as if I were sipping bile.  I've actually gotten used to the taste so I can't claim this as the cause of my resistance.  The tea works.  It makes me feel better, keeps the chronic hives and swelling that I've been experiencing since late summer at bay, and is even helping with a skin condition I've had since birth.  So why does the tea sit cooling next to my keyboard, untouched as yet?  The answer is probably too complex to be articulated or perhaps too simple to define.  The point, I suppose, is that I am acutely aware of this resistance/aversion.  The goal is not to know the answer but to "live the question", as the poet Rainer Maria Rilke says.

And so I climb on to my yoga mat and close my eyes.  I take a deep breath and then another and another, absorbing it like a sponge, and begin to move in connection with its rhythm.  Each breath, each posture and stretch draw me into a deeper, quieter place from which to look out upon the world from. I lose myself in the sound and feel and sensation of my breathing. I allow my ego self to get washed clean by its tides and when I am done the questions, the need for answers, the attachments and aversions have started to dissolve and I find myself quite still.  I allow myself to sit in the stillness following my practice and  as I settle myself onto my zafu (meditation cushion) I allow myself to become unselfconsciously present - like the air.

Meditation shines a bright light on our questions, likes and dislikes.   The practice of yoga holds a mirror up to them and invites us to open our eyes to look upon ourselves with clarity.  As we practice sitting with and moving with these self-observations, we begin to gradually increase our sense of self-understanding.  We become intimately acquainted with our strong likes and dislikes.  Then, slowly (or sometimes with a resounding BOOM!) we become aware of the origins of those tendencies.  With time, practice and patience, we are able to halt the behaviors that turn the volume up on such obstacles, and we free ourselves - opening ourselves to new ways of seeing and being in the world.  We start to align ourselves with something deeper and more profound.  We are able to look both inward and outward with greater care and clarity.

When I finally find myself rising out of the depths of this meditation, I slowly open my eyes and sit  silently for a moment before mindfully making my way over to where the now cold tea sits.  I take the earthenware cup in my hands and slowly drink down every bitter drop.

"...Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.  Do not now seek the answers. which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer. "
-Rainer Maria Rilke
From: Letters to a Young Poet