upper right: Is that a person in shavaasana, or simply a taadaasana turned sideways?
lower left: Is that downward dog? Or naavaasana upside down?
lower right: Clearly, this person is grinning wildly at their ability to do tree pose!
This blog started in 2009 to share "Nourishing nuggets that make yoga sensible in daily life." It has evolved to also be a place to share sermons and insights about value-based living in modern life. Alex McGee draws on 27 years of yoga teaching, her Masters of Divinity, study of Sanskrit, accountability to her clergy commitments, and love of helping all people benefit from yoga. Alex teaches yoga and serves as a hospital chaplain.
In my hospital chaplaincy work last year, I spent time with people who were dying or the bodies of those who had died. I saw breath happening, and then cease happening. So, in my own yoga practice, when I am instructed to pay attention to the pause after the exhale, I am very aware that one day, I will pause after exhaling, and then not inhale again.
Perhaps this seems like a scary thought. If one has not resolved ones notions about death and what comes next, then yes, it could be scary. Even if one is sure that good things lie ahead after death, it is still an unknown journey and could be scary.
But what I find amazing is how yoga helps us practice for death, for the ultimate surrender. And if I practice this everyday as part of my yoga practice, then surely the annoyances of daily life seem much smaller! Thus, as many spiritual teachers have taught us, when we make peace with death, we make peace with life. Yoga is one way to do this.
Being seen. Being found out for who we really are.
Isn’t that what we each desire?
As we interact with others, social, cultural, or economic pressures sometimes cause us to not show who we really are. This can be seen clearly during the teen years, which are an exaggerated time of experimenting with different appearances and behaviors. And yet, throughout our lives, we continue to figure out ways of coping by adapting with different ways of relating to the world around us. The problem arises when we mix-up our true, inner identity with our outer, coping identity.
And isn’t that our spiritual journey?
As I’ve been meditating on the practice of satya recently, I’ve been thinking about what truth means. What does it mean to be honest with others? To be honest with ourselves?
No matter what happens in our social lives, whether we feel seen for who we are in this complex cultural world we live in, in our spiritual lives, we can find a way to see our true selves.
True self. One form of satya.
Practicing yoga poses, breathing, and meditation give quiet time away from social pressures so that our true self has time to speak up loud enough for us to hear. Once we hear that voice, if we are practicing yoga compassionately, then we have a chance to listen to that inner truth, even if it is inconvenient. That is why slow, patient breathing is incredibly important. If we can do the patient work of hearing the inner truth, saying “Yes, I see you!” and living it out in the world, then we are certainly practicing satya.
One of my greatest joys is when a yoga student tells me that their yoga practice is making them deal with life’s stressors in different ways.
For example, a woman told me that a coworker called her with an urgent problem, and she responded by simply taking a few slow breaths. She didn’t even think about it---her new daily yoga practice made it automatic. As a result, she didn’t get into a tense situation with her coworker.
Slowing down the breath is one of the most radical things I have learned in yoga. It is true that breathing more slowly in poses makes them easier and more sustainable. But how we breathe is about way more than our poses, but about how we approach our whole lives. When I worked in a hospital emergency room, I could see which staff had learned to breathe evenly.
In addition to practicing the poses with steady, sustained breath, we can also practice pranayama, in which we learn to change the duration, timing, and location of the breath. This is a subtle and deep practice with great long term benefits.
My wish for all of us is that we can do our yoga poses with easeful breath, that we can practice pranayama with attentiveness, and then walk into the day ready to inhale and exhale along with all of life around us.
The five niyamas are (depending on your translation): cleanliness, contentment, discipline, self-awareness, and faith.
As I reviewed the niyamas one by one, I got to “contentment” (santosa). Contemplating the glass half full. Having gratitude for all I have. Focusing on what is going well in life. Realizing that I am doing the best I can.
Proceeding through the list, I got to the next one: discipline (tapas). Working a little harder. Structuring my efforts to be streamlined and effective.
Hmmmm. What a contrast. I had just finished focusing on contentment---accepting things as they are. Discipline seemed to be the opposite: making things better than they are. Are contentment and discipline contradictory?
No, I don’t think so. But they do form a creative tension.
In these two niyamas, we are reminded to have a gentle open gratitude while also keeping an eye on a steady effort to do what we have chosen on the path toward our goals. One is about allowing the moment to be as it is, while another is building toward a future with patient steps. Many areas of life require this creative tension.
In our yoga asanas, we have many chances to practice this. We can give thanks for simply having the time to practice, for having a teacher, for having willpower to come practice. We can be content that we are simply engaging in yoga (as opposed to being so blue that we are staying in bed all day). At the same time, we can be disciplined: to go through the poses even though our minds wander, even though the phone rings, and even though we may not like each pose.
So, today, whether on your yoga mat, or on the welcome mat of life, may you find a creative blend of contentment and discipline.