Author Archives: Cindy Lusk

Respect for Life

I love yoga philosophy!  I love it because it has so many rich applications for how to live our lives.  In my local classes, we are currently exploring the yamas (moral restraints), the first limb of the aṣṭanga (8-limbs) yoga laid out by Patanjali in his Yoga Sutras.  In coming weeks we will explore each of the five yamas, then maybe move on to the second limb, the niyamas (observances).  It seems like a sweet exploration as we head into the holiday season.

So this week we’ve been considering the first of the yamas, ahiṃsā.  Literally, ahiṃsā means non-harming. As the first yama listed in the first limb of aṣṭanga yoga, it is of foremost importance.  This was one of Mahatma Gandhi’s primary practices, leading to a non-violent independence movement in India, and was later adopted by Martin Luther King as an approach to civil rights activism in the United States.

It is a huge topic, worthy of extensive reflection and practice. For now, let’s consider a few approaches to its practice, and I’ll leave you with some considerations to contemplate and further your practice.

First of all, what does non-harming mean to  you? Is it the same as pacifism?  Is it possible to be completely non-harming?  Where do you draw the line? For example, what if someone attacked an innocent child?  Is it OK to kill another being to sustain your own life?  These are challenging questions to consider, because sometimes it does seem to be necessary to do one being harm in order to not bring harm to another being.  That’s one reason I prefer “respect for life” as a definition for ahiṃsā.  It adds a nuance that I feel is important to my decision making.

It is important to remember that all of these qualities we seek to cultivate on the path of yoga come more naturally when they arise from our connection to a greater or higher or more essential part of our self, rather than some moral edict.   We have all heard the command, “thou shalt not kill.”  Yet killing other beings is rampant.  One reason I think this is so is because we are disconnected from our hearts, our essence, from who we really are.  When we have cultivated a strong connection to our hearts through our practices, we begin to understand that essence that flows through others as well, and we are less likely to hurt others as it would be like hurting ourselves.

As we start to delve into this practice of ahiṃsā, we will uncover layers of our actions, how our actions (or inaction) affect different layers of our being, and of other beings.  Speech is one such consideration.  Words have energy behind them, and what and how you say something to another can be more or less respectful or harmful. Have you ever been talking about someone when they walked into the room?  Given the content of your words, how did it feel?  If it was disrespectful, likely it felt icky.  And it wasn’t icky just to get caught gossiping, but when confronted with the actual humanness of the person, you realize more clearly your essential connection, and you feel less compelled to talk negatively about them.

What about our thoughts, including those toward ourselves?  Often we have habitual thought patterns about ourselves that are harmful.  For example, I sometimes think I am not expert  or skilled enough to present these philosophical teachings to others.  That thought squelches some part of myself that sincerely wants to help others with these teachings. So if I allow those thoughts to dominate, it creates harm not only to myself, but to those who might benefit.

Likewise, we can create a lot of harm in relationships by the way we think about them.  There have been instances in my life with particular individuals who rub me the wrong way.  I find myself obsessively thinking about how to win an argument with them or get back at them in some way, which can escalate conflict.  When I started shift the way I think about them, and even purposefully creating a more loving thought pattern,  the whole conflict dissolved.

Obviously there is much to reflect on, so much that it can be quite overwhelming.  The most important point is to consider for yourself how you think about ahiṃsā, and to start practicing it in a mindful way.  It is facilitated by creating that connection with your innermost self, then allowing that connection to guide you in refining your thoughts, words, and deeds.  Like any practice, you begin where you are, and then start shifting your life to align with the value of ahiṃsā.

I leave you with a long list of considerations, as this is quite a deep practice.  Pick any of them that stir your interest, and please leave a comment here, or on my Cindy Lusk Live Your Yoga Facebook page post of this article, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

CONTEMPLATE and PRACTICE and JOURNAL

Contemplate ahiṃsā, and write down a definition for yourself, and keep that definition in mind as you complete any of the following.

Commit to a mindful practice of ahiṃsā for some period of time, like a week or a month.  Consider whether each of your thoughts, what you say, and how you act is in line with your definition.  Journal about your experience each day.

What helps or hinders the practice of ahiṃsā?

What is the effect of practicing or not practicing the ahiṃsā?

What do you do when know someone is behaving out of line with the ahiṃsā?

How does gossip relate?

Why is ahiṃsā listed as the first yama?

Is anyone exempt from the practice of ahiṃsā?

How is your practice of ahiṃsā reflected in actions that affect the planet?

How does your practice of ahiṃsā relate to actions done on your behalf? For example, killing an animal for you to eat or drone strikes by our government.

 

TRICK OR TREAT?

 

I was at a coffee shop last week and the barista asked me “what are you being for Halloween?” I scrunched up my nose, shook my head and replied, “I’m not into Halloween.” I felt like the Halloween grinch, but I’ve wondered about this holiday for a long time, ever since I spent three years as a child in England where they didn’t trick or treat. Later I found out that the basis of many of our western holidays come from pagan roots, and realized that many of the holidays we cherish have become commercial occasions.

Don’t get me wrong: I am all for having fun and merry-making (and money-making), especially for the little kids (though the sugar consumption is clearly unhealthy). But in the midst of the consumption and partying, perhaps we can step back to take a closer look at a deeper meaning of this holiday.

Halloween marks the midpoint between the fall equinox and the winter solstice. It is our entry into the darkest time of the year. For the next six weeks, the days get progressively darker until the darkest day of the year on the winter solstice, then we slowly start climbing back toward the light. So November, December, and January comprise the darkest quarter of the year. Traditionally, Halloween was seen as a time when the veil between the spirit world and the material world was thinnest, and a gateway to receive the whispering of insights from the spirit world. Coming at the end of harvest time, it is also the celebration of darkness, the dead, and death, which marks the beginning of a new cycle.

The Trick.

In our America culture, Halloween has become a big party holiday. The stores have aisles full of the accouterments, and my inbox is full of “scary deals.” Even for adults, it has become very popular to dress up, sometimes in elaborate costumes, and take on the role of someone we aren’t. This strikes me as so ironic, given the opportunity of this time of year. And it is exemplary of what we do in our lives in general. Every day we get up, and put on our various masks, make-up and clothing, and take on the roles of wife, mother, teacher, daughter, etc.

Perhaps partying, putting on a costume and taking on a different role for Halloween provides some temporary relief from the stress of our everyday roles, and the challenges of moving into the darkest times of the year. But it feels like the exact opposite of how we could spend our energy. Have we been tricked into another collective consumptive party at a time when the energy is naturally flowing into a quieter space?

The Treat.

In these shortest days, we begin to move inside, literally, as the days grow shorter we spend less time outside. And we have the opportunity to move more internally into our being as well. I often use these days to study and solidify my internal practices that may have waned a little during the days of light and summer fun.

The time around Halloween could be a time of deep introspection, of listening to our heart’s longing, of listening to our spirit speak. It could be a time to take that barista’s question to a deeper level: what do you want to be? In these days of a thinner veil, when the earth is turning in upon itself, to turn inside and listen to the guidance of our spirit. In doing so, we can begin to penetrate the various layers of our being into the core essence of who we are beyond all the roles we play. Knowing this part of our Self is a true treat, indeed.

So please excuse me for seeming like the Halloween grinch, as the last thing I want to do is put a damper on an opportunity to have fun and make merry. I know many people enjoy the creativity of costuming and the fun of connecting with friends. But as we dress up and put on our masks to this Halloween, after we’ve handed out the candy, take some time to consider some of the deeper opportunity this time of year can provide. I’ve included some contemplations below to help. Let me know how it turns out!

CONTEMPLATION
– If you enjoy Halloween, contemplate and write about what part of you it supports.
– The next three months are the darkest time of the year. Does this scare you, or can you see it as an opportunity? What more internal activities would you like to cultivate in the next quarter year?
– Contemplate this aphorism from the Shiva Sutras: nartarka ātmā, the self is a dancer (or actor). The essence of our Self is like an actor on the world stage.

KRIYA YOGA

At the heart of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras is an aphorism that outlines a profound and practical approach to yoga.  It is the first aphorism of sadhana pada, the chapter on practice: tapah svadhyaya isvara pranidhanani kriya yogah.  This is a description of the path of kriya yoga and it lists three components to that path. Kriya comes from the verbal root kr which means “to do.” So kriya yoga is the yoga of action.  The three listed components are tapas, svadhyaya and Isvara pranidhana.
The first component, tapas is typically translated as asceticism, austerity, or discipline.  It comes from the verbal root tap which means “to burn.”  So traditionally it relates to practices that are renunciatory and/or purifying.  The second element, svadhyaya literally means “self-study”, and traditionally includes study or chanting of sacred texts or mantras.  Isvara means God, and pranidhana is devotion, surrender, or offering.  So the third element, Isvara pranidhana is surrender or offering to God.

How do these three work together in our yoga practice?  Tapas is created when we turn inward:  when we listen to our breath, close our eyes, and/or take our awareness away from the surface and into the depths. Svadhyaya is when we observe our selves,  what is going on in a particular moment, paying attention and being mindful.  And Isvara pranidhana is the action we take to align ourselves with Consciousness.

We are creating tapas in our yoga asana practice when we allow our focus to move internally to the breath and listen to our ujjayi breathing. Svadhyaya occurs when we listen to and observe our bodies, both physical and subtle. Isvara pranidhana is when we choose actions that bring us into alignment to allow a clearer flow of energy, and also when we dedicate our practice to something greater than ourselves.

And ultimately, kriya yoga is a description of how our practice overall, and particularly the practice of meditation, works. When we practice, particularly when we meditate, we begin the inward turn of tapas.  It is a temporary renunciation of our surface world to explore the deeper parts of ourselves.  As we meditate, we study our Self, svadhyaya.  We glimpse our essence, and we begin to see and work with what blocks access to the deepest part of ourselves. We begin to see our habitual patterns.  Then we have the choice to align our consciousness with the greater Consciousness.  This is Isvara Pranidhana.

I invite you to observe how these three are, or are not, working in your own practice of yoga.  Perhaps you tend to favor one over the other.  Through practicing all three components of kriya yoga we can make contact with our more essential self, start breaking the patterns that block that access, and align ourselves with our higher Self.  This is the practice of kriya yoga, the yoga of action.

 

ANCHORING

As I was working out at RallySport last week, I saw a news story about yet another person who entered a school with a gun and a lot of ammunition intent on killing a bunch of kids and himself.  Then I didn’t hear anything else about it, until I saw a story on-line about the woman in the office of the school who apparently talked this gunman out of completing his intended acts.  I watched a 15 minute video of her explaining what went on in her head,  how she related to him, and what she said.  I was so intrigued because I often wonder how I would react if I found myself in a similar situation.

Two things stood out for me in this video.  The first was that she remembered a teaching from her church to “anchor yourself in God.”  And second, she said she saw herself and her own children in this disturbed young man preparing to do so much harm.  She watched him load his gun, and he even fired some shots near her.  She just keep talking to him, connecting with him, reminding him of a greater part of himself.

This woman is a hero to me, and her actions are an example of courage and grace.  They are also an example of how I see yoga working.  She anchored herself in Source and remembered that underneath our skin, underneath our actions, we all come from that same Source.

Her words and actions remind me very much of a teaching from the Yoga Sutras that lists qualities to cultivate on the path of yoga including shraddha, virya, and smriti.  Shraddha is faith, and virya is strength, and she exemplified both of these with her steadfast determination to anchor herself in God.  And she remembered (smriti).  She remembered her own challenges, and those of her children.  She remembered to anchor herself in something greater.  She remembered that the divine manifests in many different ways, including her own disabled child, and this disturbed young man.

Her actions reminded me why both the teachings/philosophy of yoga and the practice are so important for how we meet challenges in our lives. Her actions reminded me that the path of yoga I prefer is about both anchoring ourselves in the Divine and seeing the divine in others.  And further, that anchoring allows us to continue to refine our understanding and act in ways that create more beauty and harmony in the world, rather than more death and destruction. In this way, each of us can be a hero in our own lives.

CONTEMPLATION:
Sit quietly and ask yourself: what do I anchor myself in?  How do I anchor myself?
Allow yourself to sit with these questions for a few moments, then journal about it.

 

HAPPY MAY!

Hard to think of it as May Day with the snow falling here in Boulder, but that’s what the calendar says nonetheless! I’ve always found the image of the maypole dance intriguing, and have thought about it in many ways and different levels. Here’s my latest iteration.

The maypole dance seems to take different forms, but they all have one thing in common: the pole. Attached to the pole are ribbons, and through a dance around the pole these ribbons are interwoven, forming a tapestry around the maypole.

The image of the pole is not unlike the image of a Shiva linga, which represent the essential core root of Reality. It is still and unchanging, it is that which supports everything else.  On the individual level, it is our ground of Being, Awareness itself, the stillpoint that watches the unfolding of our lives.  And that unfolding, of course, is reflected in the dance and in the ribbons, in their varied movements, colors and textures. The ribbons are the different strands of our manifest reality, woven together to create the tapestry of our life.

Once the dance has proceeded, and the maypole is wrapped, the pole itself is obscured by the tapestry that surrounds it, and it can be easy to forget what it is that is supporting the whole thing.  So it is with our life: we get caught up in the dance, in the colors, blown about by the wind, and we forget that each strand is tethered to the pole, without which the dance could not occur.

Yoga and meditation provide us with an opportunity to cultivate and appreciate both our ground of being, Awareness itself, and the dance that is our life.  From tuning in regularly through our practice to this stable core, we tether ourselves to it, and it feeds the dance and allows for the creation of a tapestry that is artistic, aligned, and resilient.  This May, let us remember this ever-present, all-pervading ground of Being that supports and feeds the dance and the fabric of our lives.

Perspective

I recently returned from a journey to Mexico, during which I was able to completely rest and relax, as well as experience a culture that is somewhat different from my own.  As the time got near to coming home, and as I began to transition, I took some time to contemplate and consider the gifts of this journey.

The greatest gift, in a word: perspective.

Stepping out of our lives into a different climate, rhythm, cuisine, etc., creates some space and contrast. The result reminds me of the Sanskrit word upeksha, from Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras (1.33 for any of you fellow geeks who want to go look it up).  Upeksha is usually translated as equanimity, and is a big concept that I’ve contemplated and written about repeatedly elsewhere.  For now, consider that the Sanskrit word comes from the verbal root iksh, which means to see, and upa can mean upon or above, so it can mean overlook.  I think of it not in the sense of ignoring, but in the sense of a scenic overlook, getting a bigger view, or perspective.

As I transitioned from my relaxing travels to the challenges in my life, I was able to maintain perspective in a way I have not before, and I realized that the greatest gift of my meditation practice has also been this sense of equanimity.  Having established a daily meditation practice for the last few years I am able to maintain a greater perspective in a way I had been unaware of.  My practice is like a mini-journey.  Each time I practice, I remove myself temporarily from my usual outer worldly patterns, and move inside to a different space.  It is in that space that I  connect with a larger perspective.   This larger perspective allows me to meet the world from a calmer, more loving, and more capable place.

I realized how much my meditation practice had given me this gift as I re-entered my Colorado world.  On the bus, I started to look at various messages on my phone and found myself getting annoyed as my old buttons got pushed.   In quick succession, I experienced anger, jealousy, withdrawal, and annoyance.  I definitely fully felt each of these, and in the past I would have been sucked into one or more of them.  But spontaneously, a bigger picture emerged, a space opened up, and I was able to just drop it.  I saw it as the old pattern it was, like a silly old sitcom. I didn’t find it necessary to indulge, I simply let it go, and moved my energy into a more productive arena.  It all happened very quickly and it wasn’t until I looked back on it, that I was able to see how it had unfolded.

The concept of equanimity is a challenging one, particularly since Patanjali suggests we cultivate it toward people who are apunya, non-virtuous.  I have been accused of spiritual bypassing when I suggest cultivating such qualities, and I understand how one may think it inappropriate or impossible.  But now I am convinced that the regular practice of meditation allows these qualities to arise more readily. When one takes a daily journey from the surface of life to explore the inner landscape of one’s being, one becomes established in the qualities that reside there: in this case an expansive spacious feeling of equanimity. Repeated journeying creates a pathway that allows such qualities to emerge when the challenges of our life demand them.  In this way we become established in many of the qualities the sages suggest are at the essence of our being.

 

My Self Whispers…..

I’ve had a bit of a busy teaching schedule this last couple months, and then last week I faced a few moderate challenges.  In the midst of these times, being tired and overwhelmed, there is a part of me that wants to sleep in, or get work done, and skip my meditation. Yet there is another part of me that gently whispers: meditate.

One of this week’s challenges was going to the dentist to deal with a cracked tooth.  The assistant, knowing I was a yoga teacher rather jokingly said: “just breathe.”  I smiled at her wanly and thought, “yeah, right.” But I did, repeatedly, and found a degree of serenity sweep over me when I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.  For some reason this surprised me.  And as I felt myself calming down, something became clear to me: this is a result of my meditation practice.

Each day I sit to meditate, and in some ways it feels like not much is happening.  Yet when I look closely at the rest of my life, how I relate to people, how I deal with challenges, I see a definite positive effect. The part of me that knows this whispers to me: meditate.

These days, when I don’t meditate, I feel like something in myself is “off.”  It is not unlike how I feel when I’ve not eaten well.  It can be subtle and hard to detect, but as I’ve been cleaning up my diet, I’ve noticed more the effect when I’ve made poor food choices.  I just don’t feel well.  I feel “off.”  Likewise if I don’t get exercise, or miss my asana practice.

As I’ve pondered this, I’ve realized that I’ve gone to great lengths to sustain my physical body through food and exercise, with the positive effects of feeling better.  Why wouldn’t it make sense that meditation is feeding and exercising a part of me that also needs nourishment, and that by doing so, I would feel the effects?  The meditation practice is helping me to align and center, allowing me to function so much more effectively and easefully in my life. It has opened up a calm spacious awareness that is now more readily accessible during the challenges of my life. And it is that space that continues to whisper to me: meditate.

That whispering voice has been there for many years.  As I cultivated a rigorous asana practice, and began to explore yoga philosophy, that whisper was always there: meditate.  But I ignored it: I didn’t have the time, the time wasn’t right, I don’t have the resources, insert-your-excuse here. My major excuse was that I wanted a meditation teacher whose philosophy aligned with the tantric yogic path I was pursuing. That finally gave way when I heard Paul Muller-Ortega speak at a teacher training.  He was talking about philosophy in a way that made so much sense, and I when I found out he taught meditation, that voice got a little louder: meditate.

From the time I received initiation from Paul, my biggest regret has been that I didn’t start sooner. Over and over, I have said to myself and to others: I am so lucky.  I am so fortunate to have finally heeded the call of my inner voice and made meditation a part of my life.  Not that it has been entirely easy.  I have had lapses, I’ve wanted to quit.  But that voice kept calling.

 

SPACE IS THE PLACE

I am not sure where this phrase came from, but it seems apropos to much of the work we do in yoga.  And it is the exact opposite from being the “spaced out yogi,” that is sometimes the stereotype of yoga students.  It is creating space on all levels of your practice and life to become clearer in your heart, mind and actions.

SPACE AND TIME
Many of us struggle with finding the space, both physically and temporally to do our practices.  How do we structure our days to insure we get to practice, and where do we do it?  And we need not only the physical and temporal space, but the psychological space: we need to prioritize and clear out unnecessary items on our agenda. 

Practice: Contemplate the following.

–    When:  how do you create the time to practice?  What needs to be eliminated?  Can you spend a little less time on the internet? Do you need to schedule it in, like you would a doctor’s appointment, and make it non-negotiable? Perhaps you could look over the schedules of your favorite teachers and schedule in some classes for the next week.  What do you need to do to create the time to practice?

–    Where:  do you have a space to practice?  Can you create some corner in a room?  Can you meditate on the bus or an airplane (I’ve done this! You can download a tamboura app for your phone and play that as background).  Is there a favorite studio or other place in which you feel most comfortable?

–    What do you use as an excuse not to practice?  Is it a real obstacle? Can you remove it?

ASANA
In our asana practice, much of what we are trying to do is to create more space: lengthen, expand, stretch.  For example, I’ve been teaching recently about keeping space between the vertebrae on the side into which we’re moving: in forward bends, keep space in the front of the spine, and in backbends, keep space in the back of the spine.

Practice:
As you do your yoga asana practice this week, focus on your vertebral column and notice when and how you can create more space, and when and how you feel more compression. 

THE MIND AND MEDITATION
In my meditation practice, I’ve found that creating mental space is a natural consequence of the practice, and ultimately this might be the most important aspect of creating space. This happens in a plethora of ways.  One way is that the practice begins a process of purification.  Old thought patterns and ways of being begin to dissolve, sometimes unconsciously, sometimes consciously.  This creates space for more productive patterns to take hold.  Also, as we slow down and open the mind in meditation, we create space between an incoming stimulus, and our response to it. In that space we have the opportunity to shift our hearts, minds, and behavior.

Practice:

– If you don’t currently have a regular meditation practice, commit to doing one thing to move in that direction. 
–    If you’ve never meditated, find a book or preferably a teacher, sign up for a class or workshop. 
–    If you have meditated before, commit to one month of regular practice (this next month would be an excellent one!). Set aside 10-20 minutes each day.  Make it non-negotiable, like brushing your teeth.

– Begin to create space in between registering an experience in your consciousness, and responding to it.  Can there be a moment of letting it be and digesting an experience before you take the next bite?  Notice how quickly you respond to things and see if there are times when creating more space may be beneficial.

Ultimately, creating space is opening up to new possibilities, ideas, and ways of being.  Many of us have studied the pañcha-kṛtya-s, the 5 acts of Śiva, the last of which is anugraha, translated as revelation or grace.  Contemplating this recently has brought me to a deep consideration of this idea of space.  My current thinking on anugraha is that we can’t force revelation happen, but we each can create the space for it to enter.  This can happen in a flash, and often it is a result of our practice. We can facilitate its occurrence by creating the space for it in bodies, hearts, and minds.

REFINEMENT

You may be familiar with the notion of saṁskāra as a latent impression or innate tendency. In my studies with Paul Muller-Ortega, I have learned that it can also refer to refinement, as when raw ore is refined and worked to create a purified product.  He particularly teaches about the process of  vikalpā saṁskāra, which is a process of progressive refinement of your conceptual understanding of the teachings.

Some of you are engaged in this process with me currently as we study the Pratyabhijñā-hṛdayam, which starts out with the concept of svatantrā, or freedom.  Consciousness is innately free to create the manifest world, and further, as conscious beings, we have the gift of self-awareness.  As I refine my understanding of these concepts, I have come to realize that freedom and self-awareness are important factors in my continued process of refinement.

In many ways, the whole path of yoga, and the journey of our life, can be a process of continued refinement.  Likely you’ve seen how this works in your āsana practice.  As beginners, we have a gross understanding of how to perform particular poses which becomes more easeful and refined as we progress. Through your own careful self-awareness and observation, the attention of a teacher or sometimes unfortunately through an injury, we become aware of some misalignment in our body.  We then further refine our understanding of the proper way to perform the asana, exercising greater self-awareness, and our freedom of choice, to do so.  We do the same thing with our intellectual knowledge, we are repeatedly performing vikalpā saṁskāra, refinement of understanding, in any domain that we study.

And hopefully, we apply this process of refinement to our journey through life.  This is where the notions of self-awareness and freedom are sometimes not exercised.  As we move through our lives it is sometimes easier to behave habitually, without practicing self-awareness and our freedom to make choices on a moment-by-moment basis. As in our asana practice, sometimes it takes a painful episode to awaken us to how our behavior has not been in alignment. This is applicable so many aspects of our life: physical, emotional, social, spiritual.  How often do you apply self-awareness to:  diet, exercise, work habits, mood, relationships, your yoga practice, how you spend your time, etc?

I once had a teacher say to me: consider whether each of your actions takes you further down the path of yoga.  I realize now he was asking me to engage in this process of refinement by exercising self-awareness and freedom.  The process of yoga is one of progressive refinement, and our guide is Consciousness itself. Through our practice of yoga, particularly meditation, we contact that place inside ourselves that is deeply connected to the essence, the heart, or hṛdaya, and this is what aids us in most effectively exercising our freedom of choice to bring even greater levels of refinement into our lives.

Live Your Yoga….

As I return from retreat with my teacher Paul Muller-Ortega, I am even more committed to this slogan: Live Your Yoga. I’ve had this as my tagline for many years, and what it means to me keeps changing, as my practice and life continue to transform in a multiplicity of ways.

I began my yoga practice in a rigorous hatha yoga lineage, which in may ways was fortunate, for it taught me a lot about the nature of practice in general, the path of inward turning, and the existence of an abiding Self.  “Live your yoga” in this context demanded a rigorous, dedicated, diligent effort, while at the same time releasing expectations for particular results. The practice required an inward focus on the breath, and as I watched my mind in that practice, I discovered there was some part of myself that was steady, consistent, and unchanging, even in the midst of the wild undulations I was putting my body through.

Nonetheless I yearned for something more that I couldn’t quite articulate. I felt uncomfortable with a sense of austere asceticism, so when I learned of  a more tantric based system of hatha yoga, I was drawn to explore it more and more. The philosophy that everything is an embodiment of the divine, with an emphasis on becoming aware of, and celebrating that innate divinity was extremely enticing.  I appreciated the sense that the body itself is divine, rather than something to be controlled. My body appreciated an asana practice with greater variety, and the clear ways of aligning my body allowed me to heal a back injury that had been debilitating.

I deeply resonated with a philosophy of intrinsic goodness and the idea that life was a gift to be celebrated. It was at this point in my practice that the “live your yoga,” tagline was formulated, as I was immersing myself in myth and tantric philosophy, and using these teachings as a metaphor for how to live life as a householder yogi. Yet eventually that practice, too, left me feeling like something was missing, a certain grounding and abiding stability.  It felt increasingly shallow, and I missed the discipline and focus, and inward turning that I had experienced in my earlier years of practice.

So I started meditating.  The discipline I had learned early on serves me well: I get on my cushion twice daily, no matter what I feel like or what comes up in the course of the practice. I’ve learned that the deep withdrawal into the heart of my Self can feed my life on the surface. I see how both these streams of yoga come together to form a beautiful pulse in my life.

On a daily basis through my meditation and other practices, I follow the stream deep within to the stable abiding Source, which benevolently brings greater clarity and alignment.  Then this connection helps steer me as I ride the outward current into my householder life, manifesting more creatively and efficaciously as I move through each day. Now I know I need both the inward moving current and the outward manifesting current to fully live my yoga.