On Malasana and Balasana, Fear and Attachment, Letting go and Creating

Portion: Vayelech (Devarim 31:1 – 31:30),
Pose: Malasana (Also called Squat or Garland pose) Balasana (Also called Child’s pose)

I have been experiencing a lot of creative energy lately: artistic pursuits, taking a drumming lesson, retreat organizing committees, forming a new study group, planning a home addition and so on. In thinking about connecting a pose to activities Malasana came up for me because it is a pose that is useful in preparing for birth and in the birthing process as well. I asked myself, as I birth new ideas, organize events and have new experiences, what can I observe about myself that sometimes gets in the way of my best (and therefore perhaps divine) creating?

In the pose Malasana, on the physical level, I might initially feel tightness in my inner thighs. On the deeper, metaphorical level, I can use this pose to look at what holds me back when I am in the creating or idea birthing place in my life – or in times of transition/growth.

My dear chevruta, Judy, commented that this pose is especially appropriate to consider during this time of the year when we turn our thoughts to the birth of the world. Judy and I discussed this posture as having been a possible pose for the birthing of the world. In our discussion, we played with the ideas of G-d as a female and with G-d when in the feminine aspect. So, this is a good pose for me to consider, as I go forward into the coming year.

I find that often it is an attitude, such as fear that holds me back. I hear my doubting voice: what will they think; what if no one shows up; what if I can’t? In a place of fear, I feel vulnerable and on the emotional level, issues of vulnerability can certainly come up in Malasana.

In the portion, Vayelech, the connected ideas of fear and courage come up more than four times: 31:6: “be strong and courageous, do not be afraid and do not be broken…” 3:7 : “Be strong and courageous” 31:8: “…do not be afraid and do not be dismayed.” 31:23: “Be strong and courageous”

Fear also comes up for me in subtle ways as well, as I watch G-d tell Moses he is about to die and Moses seems to respond with equanimity, simply going about that day’s work. In the face of imminent death, will I be fearless like Moses? What other kinds of ‘death’ can I think about? Death of an idea or particular vision?

So I asked myself, how can I create a spiritual practice that supports courage and turns away from fear? To do this, I began by exploring where fear might come from. This questioning led me to consider what happens when I attach.

Sometimes, it is the attachment I have to the expectation of a particular outcome is a personal place of constriction and stagnation rather than an open place of expression and growth. I can see myself trying to make things happen, rather than sometimes, just getting my desires and vision out of the way and allowing things to happen. Can I begin to notice a ‘holding on’ that does not serve me? I imagine a woman squatting on the birthing bricks, trying to hold on to her child, rather than opening up, breathing into the discomfort and working hard to let go. Observing how I attach is helpful for me especially in my relationships with others when we are creating something together. When I strongly desire or expect a particular outcome my mind becomes smaller. In this small place, I feel afraid that I won’t get the outcome to which I have mentally attached myself. I find that my fears and my attachments are related.

For my practice in the coming year, I will change how I see myself. I will work on shifting my perspective and seeing my role as holding a place open or holding my heart open. From here I then just observe what transpires. For example, what if I have a party and I’m afraid no one will show up? Can I consciously shift my mind from attaching to a vision of what the party is supposed to look like and to just the practice of seeing myself as someone who will simply hold open her home and heart, then watch what happens? No fear. Same thing when I attempt those postures that challenge me. This is a practice I can use in asana, Torah study, meditation and life.

It seems to me that in Vayelech, Moses is turning over the leadership of Israel to Joshua. After wandering and leading for over 40 years, he won’t get to enter the Promised Land. Is this a problem for Moses? Perhaps he has detached from his need to enter the Promised Land and held his heart open to the mystery and miracle of each moment in his journey, as the moments bloom before him. (Note to self: I like that image…flowers blooming in the desert). Perhaps one of the lessons to learn from Moses is importance of attaching to the beauties and opportunities of each day, rather than draping my dreams on the hanger of tomorrows that may never arrive. Maybe this is another practice that warrants my attention as I enter the sweet Promised Land of the New Year.

Thank you, Judy, for helping me to consider Balasana, child’s pose, as a counter pose to Squat pose. Thank you for your beautiful descriptions of child’s pose as a way to come home, a place of safety, security, comfort and rest. Your teachings are a blessing in my life.

Now, fellow students, what say YOU?

L’Shana Tova to all.
For this year’s Rosh Hashanah card you can visit: http://4444leezart.blogspot.com/

TADASANA: The Magic of the Mountain

We often begin our yoga practice standing in Mountain Pose or Tadasana. To those on the outside of yoga looking in at this pose, it appears as though we are simply standing around, waiting to exercise. Tadasana’s magic gives us many gifts. Perhaps the most precious is its approachable stillness and the opportunity we have there to remind ourselves to create separation in time and space before we start moving our bodies. In Tadasana, we can begin the process of ‘drawing in.’

Time separation occurs when we withdraw from lingering thoughts about the history of our day or week. We momentarily dismiss from our mind, the experiences of our life and of prior yoga practices and place our mind in the uniqueness of the moment in which we are standing. Tadasana is a time where we can remind ourselves to let go of the mental habits of reviewing and planning. Yoga gives us a place to practice detaching from the baggage of our expectations. We have accumulated these expectations from our life experiences and how we perceive these experiences. In Tadasana, there is no past or future. We are just here in this practice hour. Then we draw in and are able to hold our mind in this minute and eventually perhaps in just this breath.

Space separation occurs as we watch the mind being drawn to sounds or experiences outside the room in which we stand. We notice these distractions, and then we invite the mind let go of those thoughts and to place itself squarely within the four walls of our practice area. In a group setting, it is also possible to find ourselves watching others or comparing our practice to the practices of those around us. Here, the drawing in occurs as we learn to direct our attention to the confines of our own mat. Sometimes that might happen as we busy the mind with the details of correct alignment in each pose. But, as the inward journey deepens, our watching might move from the mat, to being acutely aware of our body sensations and then to watching or experiencing our breath. Eventually we may notice that our mind is able to watch the way energy rides through our bodies upon the vehicle that is each breath.

This letting go of time and space is joyful and freeing. Like waking up on New Year’s Day, we are filled with the optimism of an infinite array of possibilities. But this feeling exists in each moment, not just once per year. That recurring newness is as awesome as dawn or spring. We remind ourselves in Tadasana that we can travel through our practice with the wonderment of an infant who is holding a spoon or toy for the very first time.

Tadasana is available to us at any time during our yoga practice. We can begin to see all poses, simply as variations of this basic pose. Four-legged staff pose can be a horizontal Tadasana; handstand becomes inverted Tadasana, and tree pose becomes one-legged Tadasana. But the real gift of this pose is the wisdom we acquire by practicing Tadasana that applies to our daily lives. We learn that as we travel through the challenges of our day, we can choose, in any moment to let go of what is drawing us away. We need only to pause for a mental reset, experience fully our next breath, and then simply begin anew.

© Lee Fowler Schwimmer, 2006 All Rights Reserved

10 SUGGESTIONS FOR NEW AND RETURNING YOGA STUDENTS

10 suggestions for new and returning students of yoga

1. There is only one rule: YOU MUST BREATHE.

2. If you have a particular injury or condition that may affect your practice, try to arrive early and let the teacher know. Also, discuss physical issues with your personal health professional to determine if yoga is appropriate for you at present.

3. Try to arrive on time, but don’t miss a practice opportunity because ‘life’ comes up. If you must arrive late, spend some time warming up before joining the flow of the class. It is up to you to decide if you are fully ready and warmed up enough to begin approaching poses.

4. Try to stay for the final quiet moments of class, including resting pose. If you must leave precisely on time, consider ending your work on active poses 5 to 10 minutes before you need to leave and come into a resting pose. If you simply don’t like, or see the value of this pose, consider staying just to figure out from where your resistance is really coming.

5. Watch your thoughts, sensations and take note of any emotions that arise as you move through the postures. Try to let go of your expectations, opinions, judgments or preconceptions, keeping in mind that they are deeply ingrained. This is challenging. Direct efforts, whenever possible, to seeing whatever comes into your mind in the most neutral way you can. Just because you believe something, doesn’t mean that the thought accurately reflects reality. This is all just information. Listen and try to quietly observe the workings of your mind. It can be rather amusing and humorous, the games our minds sometimes play.

6. Practice listening to the physical communications of your body. Your body cannot talk in the traditional ways to which you have become accustomed. It cannot speak words, send an e-mail, or leave a sticky-note on your monitor. But it does communicate in subtle ways: breath rate and effort, sensations, perspiration, temperature, heartbeat and so on. Use these messages as a guide to each posture. Freely challenge yourself to come as deeply as you are able during a practice, but, remain connected to the above streams of information to temper your practice with common sense. For example, if you notice labored breathing, or a sensation that is moving past discomfort or pressure and into pain, back off just a bit. There is no rush, in fact, you can still be doing yoga when your 100. If you don’t believe me, read up on the life of Indra Devi, the first lady of yoga. (http://www.allspiritfitness.com/library/IndraDevi.shtml)

7. Practice patience by applying consistency. The ego in many of us longs for rapid progress. From that enthusiastic, mental place we push too hard, too fast, attaching to results, rather than watching our process. In this mode, we can find injury or experience difficulty in motivating ourselves to attend class regularly. We miss learning about ourselves in a deep way and risk giving up altogether if our hoped-for result doesn’t arrive in the time frame our imagination tells us is appropriate. Look at yourself honestly and then: just chill out, ok? Have faith, it will come.

8. Watch your internal dialogue. The patience and compassion you are able to give to yourself in the challenging places of your yoga practice, is probably an accurate reflection of how kind you are able to be with yourself during the challenging places in your life. Deep yoga practice is more than strength-building or muscle stretching. It is a place where we can slow down, observe and then make an energetic effort to shift the mind’s dialogue away from what is not useful and toward what is useful. Learning to speak usefully and approach life in a balanced way can start on the mat with our mental approach to postures. Then, we find ourselves thinking about our approach to life and our relationships. What we have learned about strength, adaptability, awareness and patient consistency during the yoga process on the mat, gives us a skill set to apply to the bumps on our life-road. It is all yoga.

9. HAVE SOME FUN. We all have places in yoga and in our bodies that are difficult for us. Life is hard sometimes. So is yoga sometimes. Stay with whatever is challenging you and observe how you deal with it. Consciously create some happiness, especially in those moments when you think you have no good reason to be happy. See those tough moments as practice opportunities. Smile occasionally, even if you’re having a tough time locating the feeling that backs it up. Sometimes the joyful feeling can follow the act of smiling, rather than the smile only appearing when there is joy. Contentment is about attitude not circumstance. Practice finding a reason to be joyful and grateful during your mat-time, even when you don’t get what you expect or desire or think you deserve. Then, go practice that in your life and relationships.

10. We are all students, we are all teachers, so, your wisdom goes here:
(you can share your wisdom with my by e-mailing: lawyrlee@hotmail.com or posting a comment






I write this for all of my fellow yoga practitioners, and submit it to you for consideration with respect for where you are and faith in where you are going. Hugs, Shalom and Namaste.

TODAY'S MUSIC 2.24.06

Rimsky-Korsakov: The Flight of the Bumblebee 1:12 Jascha Heifetz
Ravel: Bolero - Bolero 16:13 Francois-Joël Thiollier
Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D, Op. 35 8:13 Jascha Heifetz
Verdi: La Donna È Mobile 2:34 Luciano Pavarotti
Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D, Op. 77 8:11 Jascha Heifetz
Beethoven: "Moonlight" 6:33 Vladimir Horowitz [Sonata for Piano No. 14 in C Sharp Minor]
Pachebel: Canon In D 4:44 Unknown Artist
Tchaikovsky: Sérénade Mélancolique, Op. 26 6:46 Jascha Heifetz Heifetz
Massenet: Thaïs, Meditation 5:48 Yo-Yo Ma, Kathryn Stott Paris
Piccini: Madama Butterfly: Humming Chorus 2:21 Erich Leinsdorf, Rome Opera Chorus & Rome Opera Orchestra
Rachmananov: Vocalise, Op. 34, No. 14 5:38 English Chamber Orchestra, Jeffrey Tate & Renée Fleming
Puccini: Madama Butterfly: Un bel di, vedremo 4:35 Alexander Rahbari, CSR Symphony Orchestra & Miriam Gauci
Schubert: Ave Maria, D. 839 6:14 Jessye Norman & Irwin Gage

LINK: Yoga Sutras of Patanjali - Summary

For an excellent website providing lots of information about the ancient philosophy of yoga, see:
http://www.swamij.com/yoga-sutras.htm

Be sure to make use of the multitude of hyperlinks so that you can delve into the meaning of the concepts that are discussed.

Things That Darken the Heart by Desikachar

An excerpt taken from T.K.S. Desikachar's book titled: THE HEART OF YOGA.

There are many definitions of yoga and I have already mentioned some of them:

• yoga as the movement from one point to another, higher one
• yoga as the bringing together, the unifying of two things
• yoga as action with undivided, uninterrupted attention
  

These definitions of yoga have one thing in common: the idea that something changes. This change must bring us to point where we have never been before. That is to say, that which was impossible becomes possible; that which was unattainable becomes attainable; that which was invisible can be seen. One of the basic reasons many people take up yoga is to change something about themselves: to be able to think more clearly, to feel better, and to be able to act better today than they did yesterday in all areas of life. In these endeavors yoga can be of great help, and it requires no prerequisites that must be fulfilled before we set out on this path. Just because yoga originated in India does not mean that we must be a Hindu order to practice it. On the contrary, it is not even expected of a Hindu that he or she practice yoga. Yoga does not require a particular belief system and if we already have one, it is not challenged by yoga. Everyone can begin, and the point at which we start is very personal and individual, depending on where we are at the time.

Why do we set out on this journey at all? Because we sense that we do not always do what might be best for ourselves or others. Because we notice we often do not recognize the things around us and in us clearly enough. And why does this happen? Because the veil of avidyā clouds our perceptions. We can, in any given moment, be right or wrong in our assessment of a situation, but this is something we cannot tell at the time. If our view of a situation is false, then avidyā is present and the ensuing action will be clouded by it. In this way avidyā influences both our action and the results of our action, which we will sooner or later have to confront. We have already talked about the fact that from the yogic point of view everything is real and there is no illusion. Even avidyā, the source of so many problems, has a value and is real. Everything we see and experience is accepted. This concept is called satvāda. Yoga also claims that everything is in a state of change and flux. We will not see things tomorrow in the same way that we saw them today. This concept is called parināmavāda.

If we follow yogic thinking further, we find that there is something that can perceive this constant change in things because it is itself not subject to change. This is purusa, something deep within us that is really able to see and recognize the true nature of all things, including the fact that they are in a state of constant change. But purusa is also cloaked with the same veil of avidyā that covers the mind.

I have already described how avidyā is expressed and experienced in four different ways. One way is asmitā, the ego: “I am right”; “I am sad”; “I am a yoga teacher.” These are statements of asmitā. We identify completely with something that might possibly change, and may no longer belong to us tomorrow. Another form of avidyā is rāga, the desire to have something whether we need it or not. A third form is dvesa, which manifests as refusing things and having feelings of hatred. And finally there is abhiniveśa or fear – afraid of death, we cling to life with all our might. These are the four possible ways in which avidyā is expressed.

The essential purpose of yoga practice is to reduce avidyā so that understanding can gradually come to the surface. But how can we know whether we have seen and understood things clearly? When we see the truth, when we reach a level that is higher than our normal everyday understanding, something deep within us is very quiet and peaceful. Then there is a contentment that nothing can take from us. It is not the kind of satisfaction derived from gazing at a beautiful object. It is much more than this. It is a satisfaction deep within us that is free from feeling and judgment. The center of this contentment is the purusa.

Yoga is both the movement toward and the arrival at a point. The yoga that we are practicing and in which, through practice, we can make progress is called kriyā yoga. The Yoga Sūtra defines kriyā yoga as being made up of three components: tapas, svādhyāya, and īśvaraprandihānā. Tapas does not mean penance or castigation, but is something we do in order to keep us physically and mentally healthy. It is a process of inner cleansing: we remove things that we do not need. Svādhyāya is the process of gradually finding out where we are, who we are, what we are, and so forth. Our asana practice begins with precisely these questions. We take the first step by observing the breath and body. We do this over and over again, hoping that we will with time develop a deeper understanding of ourselves and our current state. In this way, we also learn to recognize what our next steps will be. If we follow the Yoga Sūtra, this close connection with svādhyāya holds true for every kind of yoga practice. The literal meaning of īśvaraprandihānā is “to yield humbly to god.” In kriyā yoga there exists the free choice of accepting god or not. [Therefore,] the meaning is īśvaraprandihānā in the context of kriyā yoga relates much more to a special kind of attention to action: we place value on the quality of the action, not on the fruits that can develop out of it.

Our normal course of action is first to decide on a goal and then, bearing it in mind, start working toward it. But it can easily happen that our goal changes or even disappears. For instance, someone thinks it necessary to make a million dollars and spends two or three years working toward this end. Suddenly this person discovers that this goal is really of no use; the goal loses its meaning and is replaced by another quite different goal that is much more important. We should remain flexible so that we are still able to react to changes in our expectations and old ideas. The more distanced we are from the fruits of our labors, the better we area able to do this. And if we concentrate more on the quality of our steps along the way than on the goal itself, then we also avoid being disappointed if we perhaps cannot attain the exact goal that we had set for ourselves. Paying more attention to the spirit in which we act and looking less to the results of our action maybe bring us the meaning is īśvaraprandihānā in kriyā yoga.

Avidyā changes according to whether it is manifested as asmitā, rāga, dvesa, or abhiniveśa. Sometimes it will manifest itself as anxiety; other times it will appear as attachment, rejection, avarice, and so forth. The four aspects of avidyā are not always present in the same proportion. Although they are normal all there, generally one or two are dominant and the others are lurking in the background.

If we feel modest for a while it does not mean that we have overcome our self-seeking tendencies. We never know when a particular form of avidyā will appear even more clearly. It is like sowing seeds; as soon as they receive water, fertilizer, and air they begin to grow. Every seed grows best under different conditions and at different times. So it can happen that a desire (raga) drives us to do something that our pride, or ego (asmitā), has forbidden. Or our desire to be noticed (asmitā) may become so great that it overcomes our anxiety (abhiniveśa) because we have to prove what great heroes we are.

We should never sit back smugly when it seems as though we are free of avidyā. Because the four faces of avidyā do not always appear on the surface we must remain aware of the fact that their power and intensity can go on changing. Sometimes avidyā is scarcely visible in any of its forms and sometimes it overwhelms us. Because there are so many levels of avidyā we must remain watchful and alert in our actions, and maintain our efforts to lessen its influence on us. If somebody enjoys a clear mind and spirit for years on end, that certainly shows great progress. But suddenly avidyā can hit him or her again like an earthquake. That is why we emphasize that our practice of yoga, the striving for deeper understanding, must go on until avidyā is reduced to a minimum.

A few days’ yoga practice and contemplation may help for a short time, but the benefits will not last forever. We have to place one stone on another; it is a gradual process. We have to engage in these practices constantly because although we may be further on today than yesterday, tomorrow we may slip back a step. We are required to be constantly active until the seeds of avidyā are burned and cannot germinate any more. As long as the seed is there we can never know if it will sprout or not. The practice of yoga helps to prevent these seeds from germinating and growing again. Avidyā is as closely related to nonaction – even nonaction has consequences.[sic] The Yoga Sūtra claims that whether our actions have positive or negative effects is determined by the degree of influence avidyā has over them.

The Yoga sutra makes a distinction between two kinds of action: action that reduces avidyā and brings true understanding, and action that increases avidyā. We increase avidyā by feeding it and reduce avidyā by starving it; our actions encourage or discourage the growth of avidyā. Everything we do in yoga – whether it is āsana practice, prānāyāma, or meditation, whether it is attentive observation, self-searching, or the examination of a particular question – all have as their goal the reduction of avidyā.