But yoga points to something beyond health and well-being. Beyond what we can even imagine when we first start out. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali has been invaluable to me in my understanding and practice of yoga. It consists of 196 concise, bare-bones observations on the nature of consciousness and liberation. It offers a map, step by step instructions for cultivating an inner stillness and clarity steady enough to free us from suffering of all kinds whether physical, mental or emotional. In that clarity and stillness we see through the veils of illusion to the nature of reality. We have the capacity to be pure, clear conduits for love. It's advantageous to keep that bigger picture in mind and to align with it all day long, everyday - whether your practice is strong, medium or almost non-existent.
The Sanskrit word "Abhyasa" means practice - being willing to rest in inner stillness and it is the first requirement. It comes way before yoga postures, yogic breathing or meditation. It refers to a willingness to relax your grip on your story, your fears, all your desires to be right, to be heard, to be loved or to be better than someone else - and return to a state of inner stillness. It means remembering that there is a practice, a reason to wake up from our conditioned responses and ways of seeing. The first requirement is to want that and be willing to sacrifice for it. That seems almost too obvious to warrant stating it as a requirement. Or so I thought. It's not as simple or as easy as it may sound.
I came face to face with this teaching a couple years after my 19 year old son was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident. He broke both his legs, knocked out most of his beautiful teeth and endured a serious brain injury. I held it together to get through the ordeal but then a couple years later, when all the dust had settled and he was getting his life back on track I had a huge meltdown. All the repressed emotions came up in an enormous volcanic eruption one day and as I walked down a wooded hiking trail near my home, I felt an urgent need to get myself grounded. I literally curled up on the ground at the base of a tree and wept. I wept out all the tears I had held back, I wept out all the fear I had experienced, all the frustration and anger I couldn't show as I struggled with doctors, nurses, therapists and my son. When an acquaintance happened by, she looked shocked and dismayed to see me in such a state of despair but I looked up at her through my tears thinking "you don't know what a relief this is - how good this feels!"
Some years later, as I described the moment to my teacher, I said "it felt like a birthright, as a mother, to have that moment... it felt like a drink of water on the desert... it felt like I had been a pressure cooker and I let some of the pressure out..." At that point my teacher, Francis Lucille, got quiet a moment, then thoughtfully said to me, "Yes, you could let the pressure out... or you could just turn off the flame." (Quit feeding the story!)
The most interesting part of this story is what happened next. My first reaction - my initial gut reaction to that was an almost physical clinging, a hugging in to that experience. My knee-jerk reaction was "No thank you! I wouldn't trade that for the world!" It was then I realized the magnitude of what he was offering me. By then I had spent my entire adult life mining the deepest yoga teachings, longing for liberation from self-limiting thoughts. How advantageous to have a teacher! Here he was, pointing precisely to the spot where I was to make my next move, and there I was, clinging to what I knew, to what I was familiar with, to my story! In the very next moment I threw my head back and laughed at myself and the folly of it. What was I saying? Of course I will sacrifice the drama, deserved or not, delicious or torturous, for the holy grail of inner peace.
This kind of dedicated yoga can be done anytime, in any circumstances, and the more you practice, the easier and more obvious it gets. Observe thoughts and emotions as they arise, from a place of openness and acceptance, from a place of stillness. Observe how often you choose to invest in your own suffering. Observe how many of your daily activities add to an inner restlessness and agitation that keeps the mind in constant motion; from television, radio and newspapers to your actions and interactions with others, to everything you read and say. Observe how many of your thoughts throughout the day - your auto-pilot mind workings, feed your suffering, add to your "story" and take you deeper into a sense of separation and suffering. And while you're at it, see if you can detect a certain kind of enjoyment in it. (It's oddly addicting!)
Relief can be as simple as letting go of the clinging to and identifying with your story. Abhyasa is remembering that there is a noble practice and choosing to cultivate inner stillness again and again, each and every day. If you don't have the time or patience for an asana practice, then this is the best place for you to start. Everyone has time for this. Everyone has time for remembering that there is something infinitely more valuable to invest awareness in. Remember that there is a map... remember that there is another way of being that is more awake, more aware, more alive, freer and more joyful than anything you ever dreamed of.
In the final analysis, it doesn't make any difference if you've come to yoga for flexibility or enlightenment. If you continue to delve into the teachings of yoga and skillfully cultivate your practice of abiding in inner stillness for a long, continuous time, you will enjoy the tremendous freedom from self-limiting thoughts that yoga brings. Who will you be without your story? Well, you will still have your story (we aren't performing a lobotomy!) but you won't be dragging it around like a ball and chain. You won't be held hostage by it. You won't have to define your life with it. When you don't have to care for your story, feeding it and wrapping yourself around it, acting it out and identifying with it, what's left is a great freedom in itself. You will be a conduit; a clear strong conduit for pure awareness and love. Dedicating your life to awakening, to awareness, to yoga/union to the greater whole, is the greatest gift you can give to yourself, your family, the world.
