Earth Yoga

We are earth people with earthly challenges.

"To really grow as human beings, and be better yogis maybe we need to try one anothers yoga."
-from my last post

This quote roused enthusiastic support from commenters worldwide on Facebook, Twitter and on the entry on this blog.

To stay with a system of yoga, going deeper and deeper has the potential benefits of knowing self, ecstatic states, and spiritual subtleties. But it could be like the first time you connected sexually with someone (just let me try this out), you might have associated that incredible bliss with a particular individual. Life goes on and perhaps that first relationship doesn't work out. Then you realize that you might have it with others, too. Some are better. Some are worse. But when you associate it with one person and your mind is stuck remembering the past that is delusion. The danger in keeping it (when the "it" is yoga practice) to one teacher or yoga style right now is based on my belief that we need to connect better with each other here, on the planet, which could mean bringing the spiritual experience out of an exclusive arena where we connect it with one style of yoga or one teacher. Maybe it's time to branch out to understand one another across beliefs, and across yoga styles.

When we associate the precious, sacred, totally beyond words experience of yoga with one style or teacher it can be harmful socially when we channel our reverence into a mentality that seperates us from other yogis who practice with other teachers in other styles of yoga. It makes sense that we would want to protect ourselves, but what is the cost? Doesn't this pattern of thought and behavior reflect the divisiveness that can be seen amongst sports fans of different teams, or members of different religious groups, or citizens of different countries, etc? Should we allow the yoga we practice be another reason to shun people who we conceptualize as being "different" in some seemingly important intangible way? Is this really an important difference?

I see an earth translation of yoga as bringing more friendliness and care across peoples, rather than another reason for seeing difference. And I think that we desperately need to find a greater sense of union between all people.

Traditionally yoga practice offers techniques for uniting the individual sense of yourself with a larger sense of your Self, profound connection, oneness beyond description. Yes! Good... A yogi might need to practice with a particular yoga tradition and/or teacher for a while to perhaps be blessed with this realization. How we go forward from here is actually what I'm considering in this post. Certainly you might need the safety of certain parameters (like: a particular teacher, style, or tradition) to develop on your path. But don't get confused and think that the way you did it is the only way that others might do it. That most certainly is obsurd. Your path is only right for you, just as my path is only right for me.

In the sea of all of our differences how can we resonate with our common needs? How can we align less with personal selfishness, and become more motivated to work towards common goals like a more friendly world, and care about the effects our actions have on the global environment? How can we bring our tastes of beauty and connection from yoga practice into meaningful compassionate actions towards others and our earth?

Giving up Fear

I’m giving up fear because fear keeps me comfortably stagnated. Familiar and cloying, it’s almost like one of those invisible electric fences that gives a dog a little shock when it’s at the perimeter of the yard, keeping it in. Similarly, fear alters my body chemistry when I’m about to leave my comfort zone. When fear strikes, the space inside my rib cage feels like it is being squeezed by an invisible iron hand. The veins in my arms and legs seem to vibrate and grip, pulsing with sickly nervous tension. It’s as if I’m being transformed into a jerky marionette of my nervous system. And my belly is so unhappy, tight and gassy.

Why go into the unpleasant and uncomfortable fear?

Life inside the fence feels safe, but it’s stifling. Intellectually, I get that it’s not good for me to stay inside my current habits. These habits that I’m looking at were formed around an idea of myself and who I am that is out-of-date. And even though the stakes are high and facing this fear looks intimidating, I’m feeling restless inside my electric fence of fear. I want to live my life, and actively choose direction. I want to do something for my tired self.

A part of me is tired. This part has seen dreams not come true, in sad moments this part has failed. The first draft of life plans was inadequate. But, this is an opportunity for mind over matter. And I bet that if the dog goes far enough past the boundary of the fence, the collar will stop firing. And similarly, I think that if I go far enough out of my comfort zone I will feel exhilarated to freely roam in new territory.

Comfortable stagnation is really not that comfortable.

Being a prisoner of my nervous system is no fun. I can please myself with small treats and known activities. But to grow, I need to find a way to get past the boundary of my own fear.

Fear keeps me safe.

In defense of fear it has kept me safe, and kept my ancestors safe. But in adulthood there is a call to go beyond the narrow yard where you were taught to stay as a child.

Fear keeps me stupid.

In my interactions with others I can get overwhelmed, when I’d like the courage to speak my truth. This is an area where I feel most stupid. I only remember later what it would have been good to say, or I think of a good question I might have asked. But, sometimes I get lost when I’m faced with a new challenge in communication. Or I just get flummoxed.

Going into fear.

A strategy that works is to go into the fearful place with someone else that has been there, and can encourage you to go there, too. At Kripalu there is a wonderful hot tub, and a cold plunge. I was afraid of the cold plunge. I put my toe in there and a calf, but that’s about it. My body tightened on the inside, seeming to say, “no, don’t go there.” I just couldn’t make myself do it. I told a friend about this, and she told me about how great it was to go back and forth between the hot and cold water. And she offered to be my cold plunge mentor because that was how she overcame her resistance to the cold water. I hesitated for a moment because the cold plunge was a small pool, and most of the women bathe naked. I had a little fear about my personal space, but I really wanted to try so I said yes (of course!).

After getting hot in the spacious hot tub, I followed my mentor over to the little cold plunge bath. She went right in, hugging herself and breathing fast, and said something like, “oh my god,” a few times. I went right in, all the way to my neck. I was smiling. And it was so easy with my friend there. I looked into her eyes and felt courageous. It was very cold, but the coldness seemed secondary to teamwork, doing this thing together, and showing that I could do it, too. I was in no hurry to leave, so we stayed a couple minutes. And when I went back into the hot water my body released so much more. It was wonderful! And for the rest of the visit I did the hot tub to cold plunge whenever I could.

When you have to go it alone…

What about something that you have to do alone? Say that there is nobody to hold your hand. What can we do about a fear like this?

I’m actually stuck with this one. But, of course, I have a few ideas. One is to still get support. Sometimes an understanding and affirming listener can be enough to help someone make a change. Another is to decide to do it. When I’m mentally dancing just outside of something I want it is because there is some resistance to doing it. So on some level I have decided not to do it. For whatever reason, I’m telling myself I want some thing, and at the same time am actively resisting the very thing I might say I want. Ugh. What can I do when I suspect that I’m standing in my own way?

Maybe writing about it can help me understand. Perhaps visualizing something good on the other side will help me convince myself that it’ll be okay. Maybe yoga can help me calm my internal riffraff, or breath exercises can calm the fear response. Maybe meditation can help. Therapy? All of the above? Something I’ve missed? Is it a matter of more life experience? You know, as I age maybe I’ll understand better how to manage myself. But, how much longer do I have? Patience. I’ll keep my eyes open, listen to my heart, and do something about it.

Giving up fear.

I suspect that I have to give up my fear to move forward. The fear is likely to continue to show up in my body, but what I can work with is my response to it. So I’m actually giving up the way I cater to it. Do I allow it to wear me out, so I’m too tired to make the changes I want? Do I allow it to keep me away from experiences that might change me? Do I over-eat to escape the physical tension, and numb myself out? Am I to continue to be a slave of fear, a victim terrorized by my own life?

I believe I have a choice about this. Do I have the strength to walk through the door I haven’t opened? Can I go the way that will change my external and internal landscape? Will I approach a vista that I’d never thought I’d see?

Support for Change

Many yoga practitioners say that when they come to a class they work harder than when they practice at home. Somehow it can be harder to maintain motivation to do a full practice at home. Maybe we come home tired, or there are too many distractions.

The support of having a teacher and fellow students working really gets me going. Even listening to energizing music can help. Having support makes making change more natural. Support helps create space for change.

When a person starts on the path of yoga, whether they know it or not they are on a path of change. This could be because change is the truth of experience. It also could be because when a person is practicing yoga it’s harder to hide from the truth. The body feels different. I became aware of myself in a different way when I committed to my yoga practice.

I learned to become myself in a different way when I got into yoga. Before yoga my attention was on pleasing others. Then, my attention shifted to getting to know myself. And now I want to learn how I can connect more deeply with others, keeping my sense of myself intact.

This is a place where I must give myself support. Nobody else can really know what is best for me, except me. Only I know. Yet, there have been times in my life when I have wanted to give that away. It was much easier to focus on someone else. But, when I have done that it left a vacancy inside myself. And I now feel that it does myself a disservice to the extent that it’s almost criminal.

I came here with a particular take on life, and my experiences have further guided me into a sense of myself that I have to honor. If I don’t it’s a waste of myself. It’s my birthright to be me, even though at times it has been hard for me to accept the responsibility.

I think the level of self-rejection I used to have is unique, yet a part of me doubts this thought. In the past, the most important thing was pleasing other people (as I mentioned earlier). Seeing the smiling look of approval on the face of another was like hitting the emotional jackpot. Or, hearing the words, “good, Brooks” sent my spirit soaring. I’m more suspicious of these patterned reactions, now.

The impersonal format of a group yoga class gave me the support I needed to have quality time with myself. I started to wake up. During the period of time I’m thinking about, I was practicing Ashtanga yoga. Somehow the support of those teachers, and the repetition of the classes, as well as the quietness of the Mysore-style practice provided a fertile ground for transformation within myself.

I don’t know how else I might have found myself in the chaos of this world.

A friend made an observation when I remembered a detail of what I heard him say last week. He had forgotten that he had mentioned it to me, so when I said it he was a little freaked out, like I was psychic or something. I shared that I had only remembered what he said, and that I tend to remember what people say. He responded by saying that it must mean less space for me with other people’s thoughts bouncing around in my head.

And eureka! Maybe that’s why many people don’t really listen or remember what others say, because they feel that they’ll loose that space for themselves.

I think (not being a brain scientist) that we have infinite capacity to hear others. The feeling of tight brain space is an illusion that can be remedied by a regular practice of letting go, like yoga. Listening is a wonderful and priceless gift we can give another being.

To be able to support another by listening can help that person locate their self. Listening in this way provides space in the chaos of life, space to flourish, room to change.