VIGHNEŚVARA

Many of us are familiar with the popular Hindu deity known as Gaṇeśa, Gaṇapati, Vighneśvara, and many other names. This last listed indicates his popularity as the remover of obstacles, as vigna means obstacle. I learned this initially one day long ago in India when I saw a bunch of kids mobbing a Gaṇeśa shrine at which I’d seen little prior activity. I asked what was going on and someone said “Oh, it is exam time and the children are asking for Gaṇeśa’s blessings.”

There are many stories around Gaṇeśa, and like so many teachings there are more internal and external ways to consider and apply the them. Gaṇeśa is more externally summoned as one who removes obstacles, and aids in transitions and beginnings. For example, he often stands at the threshold of temples and homes, and is invoked at the beginning of dance and music performances.

But internally you can think of Gaṇeśa as that quality of consciousness that allows you to negotiate all the obstacles, beginnings, and transitions in your life. Life is always about transitions, and obstacles are common, so we need the wherewithal to address them gracefully. Gaṇeśa represents that quality of consciousness we can call upon for support in doing so.

Yoga is a lot of different things to different people. I teach and practice yoga intended for householders, not renunciates. It is for those of us who live in the world fully, rather than being sequestered in a monastery or ashram. And Gaṇeśa is particularly important for householders, because quite frankly we are much more likely to encounter challenges and transitions out in the world than if sequestered.

To access our inner Gaṇeśa, we have to connect to our very own Self, our essence, however you name it. Our practices of yoga, especially meditation, are the means to move our awareness inward to our deepest heart, where the seeds of all our capacities reside. As we nurture our ground of being through practice, we create the conditions internally from which all the aspects of Consciousness sprout, including Vighneśvara, the Lord of Obstacles.

He is the Lord OF Obstacles, not just the remover, because there are often aspects of our selves and of our lives that we just have to deal with, move through rather than avoid. So in many senses we need to experience these obstacles, and do what we need to remove them, in order to move forward in our lives and practice.

Gaṇeśa is part of you, this capacity to meet every challenge is already within you. We need only to connect and unleash it to gain access. Creating that connection is what yoga and meditation is all about.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

How do you approach challenging situations in your life?

Do you wish challenges would just go away? Can you think of occasions when a challenge seemed necessary for your growth?

What obstacles, challenges, thresholds, beginnings, or transitions are you currently facing?

How do you most gracefully negotiate obstacles in your life, both internally and externally?

Practice: Repeat or chant aloud Oṃ gaṃ gaṇapataye namaḥ. (Various versions of this chant can be found on the internet, which will help with the pronunciation.)

Rebirth in This Lifetime

Easter and spring have me thinking about rebirth, and it brought to mind one of my favorite verses from the Bhagavad Gita:

Just as a person discards worn out garments and dons new ones, likewise the soul    discards a worn out body and enters a new one. (BG 2.22)

Literally, this teaching is about the Hindu belief in reincarnation, and how our essence, our soul, is not lost when one dies, but is reborn, depending on the nature of our karma.

The reason I love this verse so much is because it seems relevant to our journey in a given lifetime. Our lives have many phases, twists and turns, and often we find ourselves outgrowing worn out garments, and other stuff in our life. This includes not only material stuff, but worn out habits, old grudges, roles, or ways of being in the world that no longer serve us. We don new garments, new ways of being which better fit a different identity and who we now want to be.

This happens quite naturally as we move along the path of yoga, although we might not notice. The process of meditation in particular, cleans out all that blocks our access to our hearts, and we find ourselves releasing old ways of being that led to suffering or are otherwise harmful to ourselves and/or others, in favor of the yogic qualities so often mentioned in the texts. And, especially as we grow older, we feel more compelled to do our duty, our dharma, what we need to do to create a righteous world.

Sometimes we must intentionally access qualities such as will, creativity, and freedom to mindfully and consciously put on a new outfit. For example, recently I replied to someone seeking teachers and healers to be on a podcast and I volunteered a perspective from yoga and meditation. When they reached out for a meeting, I immediately freaked out. I donned the old familiar clothing of fear, insecurity, and worry.

I had to step back and remind myself that this is exactly what I want to be doing now. I am an elder in the community who has a lot to share. I remembered a teaching from one of my teachers: be your future self, be the person you want to become. And I said to myself: Wrap yourself in a robe of knowing that within you, from years of study and practice, is knowledge important to share, and allow that to stream out. Be a conduit for the Highest.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE:

How have you found yourself changing your “clothing” as you’ve moved along your path? What have you released? What is the nature of that new clothing?

Have there been times, like in my example, when you’ve had to consciously release old tight clothing in favor of something that better fits the person you want to become?

What qualities of being must you consciously invoke to be the person you want to become?

Seeing the Highest

During a recent at-home retreat, I opened my eyes after meditating and saw a fabulous golden sunrise. A candle was flickering on my altar and everything was bathed with an exquisite golden light. The whole scene was filled with both peace and a vibrating luminosity. I grabbed my phone to take a photo, but was disappointed in what I was able to capture of the moment.

This has happened to me repeatedly recently, especially out in nature, moments when I can readily see and feel the shakti-filled vibrancy, the tejas, the shining brilliant beauty. And I try to capture it in a photo, but it generally falls short. Perhaps my camera isn’t the best, or my photography skills are lacking. But as well, the camera can never capture what we can see from the deeper awareness of our Heartself.

You may have had at least glimpses of this experience as well. Many of us are overwhelmed by the beauty and vibrancy in nature. Or when we look at a beloved, a partner, child, parent, teacher or pet we may be able to see their inner beauty. Or when we experience a piece of art or music, we may be filled with awe. It is due to our hearts being open and connected. Personally, I yearn for this to be my everyday reality. And I know the increasing experiences I’m having of this is a result of my meditation practice.

When we do our internal practices, like meditation, we clarify our whole being so that we come to a place beyond the everyday thoughts (and in my world today, a lot of agitation), to rest in a place of quiet calm clarity. Then we quite naturally begin to see in an unobstructed way from that place of increased awareness. In the nondual philosophy, it is said that everything is a manifestation of the one still, yet pulsating, energy of Consciousness. And as we move along our path of practice, our ability to actually experience our external world as such increases.

According to tradition, this increasing ability results quite naturally from our internal practices. And it is something we can actively cultivate. For example, in the Pratyabhijñā-hṛdayam, Kṣemarāja outlines the process of vyutthāna, a slow emergence from a meditative state. We can revel in this increased state of awareness, and continue the heightened perception as we move into our world.

On a very practical level, whenever we emerge from the resting pose shavasana, we can pause with a more gradual emergence to experience this heightened and calmer state, and remind ourselves this place is always available and we can cultivate it in any moment. As we move deeper in our practices, our ability to see the highest in each and every thing in our world increases.

It is my greatest hope that we can all begin to interact with our world from this perception of connectedness. As more and more of us do this, we can begin to shift the energy around us, bringing more of the higher qualities of being into the world.

The Equinox and Finding Balance

The equinox time has me considering the idea of balance, and what in my life is in balance, and what needs refining. The time of the equinox is the rare time when the light and dark are of equal duration, and it reminds me that finding balance, more often than not, does not mean 50/50.

It brings to mind a core concept of yoga. The word itself provides a hint, as many say the word yoga comes from the verbal root “yuj,” which means “to join.” In yoga we bring together, we join complementary or even seemingly opposite actions. I really get this in my physical body and I see it in teaching. For example, we have to find the balance between our tailbone and pubic bone. We likely already have a propensity toward one action, so to bring balance, we may need to emphasize another, at least for some time.

As the days shorten, we may find more time for reflection, and I invite you to consider where your life is out of balance, or perhaps domains in your life where you know you need to pay attention to stay in balance. I made a list for myself of spheres of my life that I need to attend to in order to stay in balance. I share it here because maybe you’ll relate, or it will make you think of something else you need to consider in your life.

May I find balance between:
– effort and surrender
– work and play
– critical or analytic thinking and intuition
– giving and receiving
– leading and following
– speaking and listening
– staying informed and staying centered
– being with others and being by myself
– eating well and enjoying food I love
– trust and distrust
– preparation or planning and going with the flow
– judgment and nonjudgement
– being a teacher and being a student
– inhale and exhale
– strength and vulnerability
– clarity and confusion
– inner journey and outer journey.

Please feel free to share what you find important to balance in your life.

DHARMA and SVADHARMA

(this is an excerpt from my upcoming book)

You may know that the first word of any text is said to be of special significance and reflects the highest first. In the case of the Bhagavad Gītā, the first phrase is “dharmakṣetre,” the “field of dharma,” referring to the field on which the battle is taking place. It represents our lives in its many levels and domains, where all the challenges we face in the course of a lifetime play out. So in a sense, the entire conversation between Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna is about how to live our dharma in all the many facets of our lives.

“Dharma” is often translated as “sacred duty, law, or righteousness.” It comes from the verbal root “dhṛ:” “to hold, make firm, nurture and sustain.” Dharma can be thought of as that which sustains or holds things together. It also carries connotations of ethics, justice, goodness, and virtue. There is really no one great English word that captures the nuance of the concept of dharma.

“Kṣetra” literally means “field.” At the level of your individuality, this can be thought of as your field of awareness. So dharma-kṣetra is your individual consciousness, it is where we grapple with our dharma, which is exactly what Arjuna is doing in the Bhagavad Gītā, with the help of Kṛṣṇa. On the battlefield are two opposing sides, one of which is considered more righteous, or dharmic, than the other. The war has come about in order to restore dharma/righteousness. And metaphorically we have parts of ourselves struggling with what is dharmic in our many life situations.

We can also think of the field in a larger way, as any domain in which we operate, where we live our lives. This could be our family, our spiritual community, our professional field, or society at large. This concept, in particular, applies not only to our individual lives but also to upholding and nurturing society as a whole. Dharma is what sustains society. It is that which is uplifting and leads to the greatest collective good. The Bhagavad Gītā challenges us, from its very beginning, to consider deeply how our actions align with righteousness, and how we uphold righteousness in a misaligned world.

Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa are standing on the field of dharma, and metaphorically, these characters are two parts of ourselves, and the field is the inner topography of our consciousness. Arjuna is experiencing a battle within himself, trying to understand what his duty is, what will hold things together, create alignment and serve the highest. And for each of us, as embodied beings, the whole world is our dharma-kṣetra, the field on which we discover and enact our dharma, minute-by-minute, day-by-day, year-by-year.

During their conversation in the Bhagavad Gītā, Kṛṣṇa refers to Arjuna’s “svadharma.” “Sva” means “self,” so svadharma is your own particular dharma. Your own duty. In more modern times, svadharma has been described as your purpose. What are you here to do to create greater alignment within yourself and in the world? How are you helping to hold things together?

Kṛṣṇa reminds Arjuna that his svadharma is that of a warrior (e.g., 2.31, 2.33). In the context of this story, Arjuna’s dharma is to uphold righteousness in society through his actions as a warrior. The whole premise of the Bhagavad Gītā is Arjuna questioning this, as he is not happy about facing an opposing army comprised of people he is connected with. But the concept of dharma dictates that upholding society requires him to do his duty as a warrior.

He has received a great deal of privilege, being part of a lineage of nobility, but with it comes certain responsibilities. Yet he must make it truly his own, so he is not doing what someone else thinks is his dharma. In the course of the conversation, Arjuna is coming to understand his sva-dharma, his own dharma.

In many societies, even today, there are fairly strict roles, so this teaching could be challenged when it is taken to oppress or “keep people in their place.” For example, women in societies where their role is traditionally restricted, are extremely challenged to live their own dharma. They may have to confront societal prescriptions to enact what is truly their svadharma, in terms of what is more nurturing and sustainable.

Our modern society seems to have so much freedom, so many options, that it can be overwhelming to understand what is most dharmic. That’s why the yogic practices are so important for us in our modern lives, to connect to our essence as a guide, our Kṛṣṇa self, so we can each discover our gifts and become clear on what is dharmic in each situation and our lifetime as a whole.

Dharma operates on all levels of our life simultaneously. Throughout the text of the Bhagavad Gītā, we learn that yoga is not about becoming a renunciate, withdrawing from our familial and societal duties and responsibilities. Instead, dharma is about being actively present to the opportunities life presents for sustaining the world, for upholding dharma in society and nature, as well as in our inner growth, what nurtures us individually, and what connects us to our highest purpose.

In his commentary on the first verse of the Bhagavad Gītā, the great Tantric sage Abhinavagupta cites a text that says the highest dharma consists of the realization of the Self by means of yoga. Abhinavagupta is saying that to be dharmic we start with one’s self, refining ourselves through our practice of yoga, which aligns us with the highest. Then we spontaneously are pulled to create alignment on societal and global levels. Because when we do our practices and begin to realize our Heartself, our essence, we begin to see the connection of all things, and quite naturally our actions begin to unfold in a way that reflects dharma in all of our activities.

As Kṛṣṇa reminds us throughout the text, each of our actions is an opportunity to assert dharma. Sometimes it is fulfilling the duty of one of our roles in life, be it, for example, warrior, teacher, spouse, parent, etc. Sometimes it is about making the best choice in a challenging situation, which perhaps we would prefer to avoid altogether. Sometimes it is about remembering what we uniquely have to offer in a given situation, our own dharma/svadharma. And as Abhinavagupta reminds us, sometimes dharma is about doing what aligns us with our highest Self.

As Kṛṣṇa makes clear, ultimately to create dharma in the world, we must act. We must consider how every decision, every action contributes toward sustaining the righteous integrity of our connection with our innermost selves. And as well our actions should help sustain and hold together our society and the planet in the highest possible way.

CONTEMPLATE, PRACTICE, and JOURNAL:

Contemplate the idea of dharma on its many levels. Consider your duty in society, to your individual self, and to your highest self. Think of experiences/examples when you faced a conflict like Arjuna wherein your individual desires conflict with what is best for society. What does dharma mean in these different contexts?

Consider dharma as what holds things together. How does this relate to your yoga practices, especially meditation?

What do you make of the term “svadharma”? What does it mean for you?

Keeping in mind your definition of dharma, how is it reflected (or not) in your actions? For some period of time, mindfully consider whether each of your actions is dharmic.

AWAKENING

(this is an excerpt from my book-in-progress)

Stepping onto the path of yoga generally starts with some type of awakening, whether conscious or unconscious. If you look back at your journey, you may identify turning points that have motivated a quickening of movement on the path. A time of awakening for me involved a romantic breakup and its emotional residue. In the depths of my despair, as I hit bottom, something inside reminded me of yoga, which I had dabbled in as an undergraduate. The breakup was a wake-up call, which led me to examine what I was doing with my life in a variety of ways.

This is so often the case, some devastating event in our life wakes us up, jolts us into our hearts and helps us to remember there is more to being alive than the mundane life we’ve been enacting. So I sought out a teacher, and that teacher led me further down the path, and then to another teacher and so on. It was a gradual process with successive levels of awakening and awareness.

But reflecting deeper on my life as a whole, I see a pattern of seeking something more. I repeatedly experienced a feeling that something was lacking in my life, something spiritual in nature. Initially I turned to Christianity since that was what I’d been exposed to. Then I sought out various substances and experiences as so many of us do, seeking to fill this sense of lacking on the material plane, through experiences or stuff.

And some of us get a taste of it from yoga asana, which was definitely my experience. After certain poses, I would experience a “bliss hit” as energy surged through my body, and I wanted more. And often after practice, I experienced some serenity and equanimity which would persist for some time.

Ultimately, all of these openings or awakenings are due to grace/anugraha. Life provides circumstances to which we can respond in many different ways. It is by grace that we choose to use these openings as an impetus on our path of yoga.

One form of grace you may have heard about is shakti-pat. Like so many concepts, the notion of shakti-pat has many layers of meaning and interpretation. “Shakti” means “power,” and” pat” is “falling,” so shakti-pat is the descent of power, or grace. It is a way that the individual experiences grace in their being.

Most of us have had an experience of spontaneous awakening, a hit of shakti-pat, to some degree, perhaps lying on a beach or in the mountains, sitting on a park bench, holding your newborn baby, experiencing art or intimacy. Somehow we just drop into the reality of the present moment, with a spontaneous realization of the Highest reality. Or it may come through some type of practice.

The experience can feel like a sense of Oneness, a recognition of the connectedness of everything and yourself as the center of it, or engulfing it all. Such experiences can be a flash, or a wave, and can last a moment or days or weeks. Yet for most of us, the experience eventually fades and we return to our mundane awareness.

In many traditions, shakti-pat is defined as something bestowed upon a student from a teacher. You may know of gurus who distribute such blessings via a touch or glance, or in other subtler ways. Some people report feeling an energetic transmission, when others say they’ve felt nothing. The student can receive or experience it in a number of ways. Some report a feeling of receiving a sensation small or large of the shakti, though for some, shakti-pat can occur without consciously registering an initial impression. In these traditions, this is the vehicle of awakening and movement toward greater awareness. From another perspective, reliance on a guru could leave a student relying on these “hits,” creating a dependency rather than self-sufficiency.

One way to think of grace or shakti-pat is that it is always available, it is always being offered, we just need to cultivate our awareness and experience of it, to open to it. We can receive it from many sources, be they friends, teachers, acquaintances or circumstances. I often sense a deeper presence and peace in certain people, including some of my yoga teachers. The absolutely free shakti can move through us in any number of ways.

The variety of experiences regarding the wake-up call, including the receptivity to a guru’s shakti pat, or a sensitivity to someone’s energy, points to a deeper understanding of shakti-pat. There must be some receptivity, readiness, or openness in the student to receive. This is related to the concept of adhikara, in the sense of a student’s receptivity and/or qualifications to receive the teachings.

Shakti-pat is the initial, and subsequent, awakening(s) which propels us on the path of yoga. It involves some descent of grace into the individual, which leads them to seek a teacher, practices, and teachings. It is often said, when the student is ready, the teacher will appear, and that is precisely because of adhikara, the readiness of the student to receive. This has certainly been my experience, as one teacher has lead me to what I needed next. At times I had wished I had met certain teachers sooner, but looking back, I wonder whether I would have been ready and receptive at an earlier time.

The importance of a teacher cannot be overemphasized. Sometimes the awakening experience can be very disorienting. They can happen spontaneously and unexpectedly and can be quite intense and/or confusing without context or understanding. They can also happen at any point on the path as your practice progresses, can take you by surprise, and be perplexing. An experienced teacher can help you move through these awakenings, providing you with the necessary knowledge and support.

The moment of initially waking-up, involving some shakti-pat, leads us to become a seeker. On some level, this impulse of the shakti has guided us toward the highest. I was lucky, as are you, since right now you are seeking deeper teachings of yoga, turning toward yoga for deeper fulfillment. However, the initial experiences of awakening are not enough to sustain us. As one of my teachers says, we need to move from being a seeker to being a finder. And the bridge for most of is some technique, some type of practice. Meditation is an excellent method for finding your deeper self and stabilizing the experiences of awakening into our everyday reality.

IS JUDGMENT A BAD THING?

Something I hear quite often from yogis in various contexts is: don’t be so judgmental. This is something that has some level of truth, but is used inappropriately most times. Our ability to make judgments is a human gift. We are always making judgments, probably due to an evolutionary impulse to evaluate whether something in your environment is going to eat you, or it is something you’d like to eat. If you look closely, we are always scanning the environment and making flash judgments about safety and threat. This expands to judgement of good and bad, the value of things, and ultimately aids us in making decisions.

So from this perspective, judgment is useful for us, we need it to function in our world. We need to judge whether the skillet is too hot to handle, some food is spoiled, or a workshop will be of benefit. And broadening the concept, viveka, or discernment, is highly valued in the yoga tradition. Our increased ability to be discerning is one hallmark of our progress on the path of yoga.

We use our judgment to discern what is problematic, bad, or unacceptable in our surface world. Often I’m told I shouldn’t judge other people, but shouldn’t we use our judgment to evaluate whether their words or actions are uplifting, true, useful and good, or false or detrimental, and therefore bad? In general, we need to set boundaries around words and actions that are harmful, untruthful, and mostly damaging.

However, we can still hold equanimity and non-judgment toward the essence of a person. This is one of the great paradoxes of yoga: to be able to clearly discern and draw boundaries around bad behavior, yet continue to remain even-minded toward the person. The teachings around upeksha/equanimity remind us to keep a bigger view, a larger perspective.

This is by no means easy! It is our human tendency to quickly judge something as good, and attach to it, as well as judge things as bad and push them away. These are in fact two of the kleshas/hinderances outlined by Patanjali in the Yoga Sutra. Working with the subtleties of this paradox requires practice. And as we move along the path of yoga, our ability to be discerning is increased as we connect and align with the highest and refine our awareness.

HONORING MY TEACHERS

I have been blessed to have some of the greatest living teachers lead me on the path of yoga, and without them I would not be who I am today. As I describe them, you will see how they each contributed to my journey. In their own way, each initiated me into some aspect of yoga, educated me, and supported me personally and professionally. I have so much gratitude for them and strive to honor them in my own behavior and teaching. They are listed in chronological order

Richard Freeman taught me the art and science of body as mudra: to listen and move with the pulsation of breath, to channel energy with bandha, the focus of drishti, and dedicated practice. He supported me as I became a new teacher, allowing me to teach classes at his studio. He also whetted my thirst for yoga philosophy and again supported my first attempts at teaching that. I am so grateful for these gifts and many others Richard bestowed.

John Friend gave me back my yoga asana practice which was threatened by physical injury. He showed me how to align my body to be pain free, introduced me to the profound practice of opening to grace and the tantric philosophy that everything is a manifestation of the divine. He consistently challenged me physically, emotionally, and spiritually to soften, connect with source, and become a vehicle for divine light. John taught me how to be an excellent yoga teacher and bolstered a well-rounded studentship, and these two gifts serve me well to this day and have allowed me to build a career doing what I truly love.

Douglas Brooks ignited in me a profound love of the deep teachings of yoga through its stories, culture, and philosophy. His particular interpretation of yoga philosophy turned my world upside down in a way that taught me a radical affirmation for and appreciation of the many gifts the divine is offering me in this life. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of something I’ve learned from Douglas, his teachings have had a profound effect on me, my life, and my own teaching and I am forever grateful our paths came together.

My studies with Paul Muller-Orgega fulfilled a call of my heart which was clearly clamoring for something more, and produced a more expansive shift in my being than I thought possible. In a word the greatest gift he has given me: sadhana. He taught me effective techniques, the value of a regular meditation practice, and self-sufficiency, the result of which has been a profound realignment in the core of my being with the supreme pulsations of the highest. This guides me daily and allows me to serve as a teacher in a more effective way than I ever thought possible. Paul fed my appetite for a systematic understanding of yoga philosophy, particularly the Tantras, but as well honoring Patanjali’s teachings about meditation. And Paul bestowed upon me the gift of becoming a meditation teacher, allowing me to serve in an even greater capacity. The work I am doing with Paul feels like the crowning jewel of 35+ years of yoga study and practice, and I look forward to much more.

I must acknowledge Christopher Wallis, whose brilliant book “Tantra Illuminated” helped clarify many philosophical concepts. In addition, his translations of the traditional texts have been incredibly useful to me personally, and they are upleveling the availability of the teachings of Tantra into a world that desperately needs them.

From these teachers I repeatedly heard an honoring of their own teachers, a remembrance of those who helped them on their own paths. So, finally, I would like to honor with a deep bow, the great lineage of teachers, all those who have held the teachings, kept the practices alive, and passed them on for the benefit of all beings.

I applaud the many scholars coming forth to provide translations of texts that have been languishing in homes and libraries. Each is a gift, and I am so grateful for the translations that are coming forth, including from those I mentioned above.

From my teachers and the teachings, I’ve heard a deep respect for the manifest and unmanifest divine and have received the call to attune, again and again, to That which is the ultimate teacher, That which flows through all teachers in service of the greatest Truth. With the help of our teachers, may we all find and align with the highest which serves to empower and support us.

Freedom

Let’s take a moment to remember a fundamental teaching from the tradition: Consciousness in her freedom brings about everything in the universe (Pratyabijna Hridayam 1), and let’s focus on the second word of this aphorism: svatantrya. Usually translated as “freedom,” but remember the prefix “sva” means self, and “tantra” can mean loom, so another interpretation of this word is “self-looming.”

The tradition provides teachings on the various ways the highest Consciousness becomes concealed as we manifest as individuals, including the samskaras, all those latent impressions stored inside each of us that serve as activators of our thoughts and behavior. These samskaras can be negative habit patterns that lead us into suffering. And our practice of yoga, particularly meditation, attenuates those negative samskaras while at the same time laying down more positive samskaras. Our practice allows us greater access to the highest within us, which serves as a guide, if we listen.

As we loosen ourselves from the bonds of our samskaric patterning through our practice of yoga, we are better able to enact svatantrya, freedom. We are better able to consciously loom the fabric of our lives. Our journey of yoga yields the freedom to pause and make conscious what was previously unconscious. We gain what my teacher Paul Muller-Ortega calls “the ledge of freedom,” a resting place on our journey where we can pause and consciously choose our next step.

This is the pause that Arjuna takes at the beginning of the Bhagavad Gita, when he asks his charioteer Krishna to bring their chariot into the middle of the battlefield to consider the most prudent course of action. Instead of galloping automatically into battle, Arjuna pauses to ask questions of his highest Self, and he listens carefully to the answers. In this way he then mindfully chooses the highest course of action.

Continuing to enact our samskaric patterns without pause, without reference to the highest, demonstrates a lack of freedom. Often we think we are behaving freely when in fact we are slaves to our habit patterns. We are simply doing what we’ve always done without even considering our options. We have so many opportunities to exercise our freedom that we aren’t even aware of. Our meditation practice supports us in breaking these habitual patterns, allowing us instead to pause and understand we have another choice that may be more optimal.

We are seeing this play out in the COVID-19 pandemic in ways both small and large. Our habitual patterns of behavior have been brought to a halt. Our choices are limited. We are forced into being more mindful.

For example, on a small scale, we’ve had to pay attention to our hands: how we wash them and what we touch. This is an exercise in seeing how mindlessly we have done these things in the past.

We are seeing how our habitual ways of thinking, our general mindsets are being activated with regard to how think about the whole situation. Do we tend toward fear, blame, paranoia, kindness, compassion, depression? As our lives are stripped down, we have the opportunity to look at these patterns and out of our freedom choose how to be. Or we can unconsciously allow the old patterns to dominate and reiterate.

We yearn to go back to “normal,” which essentially means we want to enact our old behavioral patterns. That may not necessarily be bad, but we now have the opportunity, in this moment, to pause in the middle of our battlefield and evaluate whether “normal” is actually the highest way of being for everyone involved. Is there a better choice when we pause, listen to our higher self, and think about it? We have the freedom to choose to do something different.

For me, this ability to take this pause, listen, and envision different options has broadened as I’ve become a regular practitioner of meditation. Honestly it has surprised me to observe my ability to more readily watch an impulse arise, pause to consider whether I want to enact it, and make a conscious choice.

Perhaps freedom isn’t about our ability to do or enact anything without recourse. Ultimately this can lead to bondage on so many levels. Instead, I think of freedom as being free of the bonds of unconscious patterns, and acting out of a conscious consideration of what is the highest action in any given situation.

CONTEMPLATE AND PRACTICE

To what degree do you feel free? Consider your thoughts, feelings, and actions.

What inhibits you from feeling free?

What encourages a feeling of freedom?

Are there circumstances in which you limit your freedom of choice and/or expression?

Observe yourself as you negotiate the COVID-19 circumstances. What is it teaching you about freedom?

 

Patanjali and Vyaghrapada in the Tillai Forest

Here is a lovely story I learned from Douglas Brooks. It contains many teachings, several highlighted here. I begin by telling the story, and then unpack some of the major teachings.

Once upon a time, Vishnu was reclining on his couch of Shesha, the serpent. Vishnu seemed rather unsettled, heavy and exited, so Shesha asks him, what has happened to cause you this agitation, this ecstatic discomfort?

Vishnu replies, I have seen the dance of Yogeshvara, I have seen the Lord of Yoga’s ecstatic dance. He has seen the beautiful poetic self-expression of the divine, he has seen Nataraja’s dance.

Shesha then asks Vishnu if he, too, can see the dance, and Vishnu replies yes, but you must become embodied to do so. You must become embodied to taste the experience.

So Shesha is born as Patanajli, this being, who has is half human and half snake.

Shesha, now Patanjali, burrows into the darkness, into the depths of the earth, he’s part snake after all. And eventually he emerges in the forest of the Tillai trees, where he begins searching for the Lord of the Dance, Nataraja, whom Vishnu had experienced. For many years he searches for Nataraja, he perseveres and is determined, as he knows the dancer is here somewhere in the forest of the Tillai trees.

Then, finally one day he comes upon a linga.

A linga is a statue that is a single pillar or column, and signifies the unmanifest Absolute reality, also known as Shiva. It signifies everything, but appears as nothing. It holds all possibilities, the potentiality prior to manifestation.

This linga has obviously been worshipped, it is adorned with sandalwood paste and kum kum, which is the red paste that people put on their foreheads and on statues and such. So Patanjali sees this adorned linga and realizes he is not alone in this forest, there are other seekers as well. There are others who have been seeking even longer.

Also adorning the linga, Patanjali sees a flower that is exquisitely beautiful, unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He, also, wants to make this beautiful flower offering to the linga. So he searches and searches the forest for the flower, but to no avail. Each night he falls asleep not finding the flower, and then every day he wakes up to see a new flower has been offered. Each day, someone has offered another fresh gorgeous flower.

Finally he decides to make an offering he does have, a particular seed from the earth, where he borrows. So he makes his own unique offering from the earth he inhabits.

And then from the trees descends this being who is mostly human, but has the paws of a tiger. This is Vyaghrapada, his name literally means “tiger paws.” Vyaghrapada lives up in the trees and was given the boon of paws which allow him to climb high up into the trees to gather these amazing flowers no one else can touch. He has been watching Patanjali all the while, and when Patanjali slept, he brought down beautiful orchids from the treetops, and did his puja, his worship. Vyaghrapada has been watching Patanjali carefully and has realized the seriousness of his worship.

Patanjali and Vyaghrapada sit together at the linga to worship. They learn that they each know mantras to chant, and they teach each other what they know, and they chant together. And as they chant, the linga starts to twist and turn, and from that form of potentiality, Shiva emerges in the form of the Lord of Dance, Nataraja.

In his blissful dance they see all of creation, manifestation, and destruction. They see revelation and concealment, and they see the gesture of the upturned hand signifying “no fear,” abhaya mudra.

They receive and share these teachings from Nataraja’s dance, and they each also receive individual teachings. Patanjali offers more gifts to Nataraja, and Nataraja bestows upon Patanjali the gifts of the teachings of Ayurveda, of grammar, and of yoga. Then Patanjali leaves, having seen the dance and received his gifts. Vyaghrapada stays, as he is a dweller in the forest, and he asks Naratarja: is there more? Together Patanjali and Vyaghrapada saw the ananda tandava, the dance of bliss, but there are actually several more dances of Nataraja, which Vyaghrapada witnesses, since he asked for it.

Then eventually Nataraja returns back to the potential form of the Shiva Linga.

This story has much to tell us about the path of yoga. There are many teachings held in this story, and we will consider a few of them.

First of all, remember that you are every character in the story, so you are Patanjali, you are Vyaghrapada, you are Nataraja.

In the beginning of the story, Shesha gets a hit of something Vishnu has experienced, and he wants to experience it himself. He becomes a seeker, searching for more in life. It’s like when you’re around someone that has a certain energy that you pick up on and it is so attractive that you want to learn about it. This is like many of us who have a sense that we want more out of our lives, and that is why we turn to yoga and meditation.

So Shesha asks how he can experience the dance, and is told that you must embody to experience more. In our lives, we have the opportunity to experience the bliss of the Divine, as well as the joys of embodied life. So in this story Shesha embodies as Patanjali.

Patanajli works hard to first burrow through the ground to arrive at the Tillai forest, then to find the linga within the forest, and then to try to find the flowers for offering. He is no slacker. Patanjali doesn’t give up. He is unrelenting on his path. So in Patanjali’s teachings we see a yoga of effort and discipline.

He sees the lovely flower offering someone else has offered and he searches and searches the forest for the flower, but to no avail. The flower is not his gift, it is the gift of another. We each have our own unique offering to make and often it takes us time to discover this. Often in life we try to copy someone else’s offering and it just falls flat. It takes Patanajli a while as to discover that his offering is that of the seed which comes from the earth where he has burrowed.

And then he meets Vyaghrapada, and they sit together to worship. They discover that they each know mantras to chant, and they teach each other what they know, and they chant together. This is the power of our spiritual community.

Nataraja has always been present, they just haven’t seen him. Something shifts so that the dance becomes manifest from the potential of the linga. Then they finally do see the dance, they learn the pancha krityas, Shiva’s five acts, they learn abhaya mudra, the gesture of fearlessness

Patanjali sees the crossing arm of Nataraja, he sees there are barriers to the heart. He worked hard to attain his experience of the dance. He leaves the forest with the Yoga Sutras, a text of renunciation, discipline, and asceticism. So we have here represented the nirvritti yoga, yoga of turning inward.

Vyaghrapada sees into the cave of the heart, the dance of living a life fully, and remains in the forest as a householder. This represents the path of pravritti yoga, of doing our dance in the world.

This story is a powerful exposition of our path as yogis in the world. As meditators, Patanjali’s teachings of discipline and inward turning are important to us, but they are only part of the story. Like Vyaghrapada, we are householders, so we must learn how to do the many dances in our life. And like both of these characters, we must each learn to offer our own unique gifts, to dance our own unique dance.

There are many other teachings applicable to our lives in this story. You are invited to contemplate what further you can learn from this story, and how it might apply to your life.