NON-ATTACHMENT

In my study of yoga, mindfulness, and Buddhism one theme repeats throughout -- non-attachment.  What does this mean?

Well, we make plans and plans often go awry.  How do we respond?  For me, it's usually with frustration, disappointment, even grief.  I want things to go the way I expect them to go!  Otherwise why even try?  Why plan, organize, and put forth effort if we have no control over the outcome? The heck with it, right?  Wrong.

Remember in the last post I said I got lost in my Prakriti -- that big bag of life experience we carry on our backs that we erroneously think is the real us?  This is the place of habits.

We have a certain way of doing things.  We always do them that way.  They are habits of thought and action that are often repeated without intention or thought.  We put our shirt on before our pants; we brush our teeth before we wash our face; we drive to work on auto-pilot; we eat that extra cookie; we worry about our weight; we rise up from a forward fold arms sweeping up from our sides to reach over our heads in exactly the same way every single time; we expect people to be predictable, etc.

These habits form "grooves" in our brain.  We act without true intention; without thinking.  The Sanskrit word for this is "Samskara" -- the endless chatter in our minds; the repetitive habits of our actions.

To interrupt these habits, which can be unconscious and limiting, we must practice relentlessly.  What does this mean?  It means practicing mindfulness.  It means whenever you find yourself in a familiar thought or action pattern -- or Samskara "groove"--  we consciously replace it with a new, more helpful thought or action, or Vairagya.  This unrelenting practice of awareness is called Abhyasa.

Every morning I get up and pour my cup of coffee and make a slice of whole wheat toast with butter and jam.  Every morning, without fail.  This is what I do.  I like it.  I don't even stop to think if this is what I really want, if it's good for me, it's just what I do.  (Samskara)  But lately I've decided that may not be the best and most nutritious breakfast for me.  I'm noticing I don't feel great after this breakfast.  What would happen if instead I prepared a cup of Auyvedic herbal tea and a small bowl of oatmeal?  That might help calm my tummy issues, provide me with more nutrition, and help me lose a little weight.  But that breakfast just doesn't feel right!!!  Until I get into the new groove -- Vairagya.

Will this solve my digestive problem?  Well, it might.  Or it might not.  The new "groove" also becomes a Samskara if I don't continue to practice Abhyasa -- the unrelenting practice of being in the present moment.  The present moment might find me feeling better or it might not.  I must practice non-attachment to the outcome of my practice!  I must find a "no groove" place where each moment is new and each thought or action is meant to be noticed in this moment, not with an eye to the past that no longer exists nor to the future that will never come.  I have to keep practicing.

This is all so confusing, isn't it?  We Westerners of the rugged independence ilk, who value hard work and goal-setting to achieve our desired outcome have a hard time letting go of attachment to that work and the outcome we want.  Yet how often do we stay in a state of repetition, of a swirling mind that never stops, of habits that have long outlived their usefulness?

This state of Samskara can only be interrupted with intentional noticing.  We can then make intentional changes.  And then we practice noticing that!  And we practice some more with more noticing and then maybe we make more changes.  We are not really trying to find the perfect outcome.  We are only practicing awareness of the present moment.  And really, the present moment is all we have, the only real thing, and our attention to it is the point.

I get that this is a hard concept.  I am only now finding a glimmer of understanding of it with my second course of Yoga Sutra study and a revisit to some Buddhist and Hindu teachings.  I find it challenging and also freeing to realize that I can't control anything, really.  I can only be present to this moment and trust that I can notice and take action that serves me in the now.

Give it a try. Notice a habit of your own or a thought pattern that drives you crazy.  Get quiet and take note.  Really notice what you are doing and thinking.  No judgement.  Then do or think something more helpful, if that is appropriate.  Just for now.  Don't get caught thinking this will solve or change anything, even though it might.  Just notice and make a change.  See how that feels.

Samskara is the old, maybe not useful, groove.
Abhyasa is the unrelenting practice of awareness.
Vairagya is the new groove to try on.
Non-attachement is no groove at all.  Just be here now.

Have fun exploring!©
Namaste,  donnajurene

Thanks to Elizabeth Gray at YCS for her wisdom and teaching of the Yoga Sutras.  Hope I got some of this information almost right.  I'm not attached.  LOL

I FORGOT

Well.  Humility comes in all sizes.  I got a huge dose recently.

Oh yes, I did the yoga teacher training and was feeling pretty proud; pretty confident; pretty, you know, special.  LOL   I learned all about Asana (the poses), Sutra (the philosophy), Pranayama (the breathing) and Anatomy (the body).  I learned first and foremost that yoga isn't about poses, it's about calming the fluctuations of the mind. Everything we do is in service to that outcome.  I know that!

I know about Prakriti -- the big bag of "ego", what we identify with, our roles and thoughts, past and present experiences, etc.  And I know about Purusha -- the unchanging pure awareness that is our true Self.

And I know that if we don't still the mind we grow confused and come to believe we are the fluctuations of the mind -- that all those things that change and evolve and disappear over time are really"us"; really important, really real.

Well, as a spiritual being in a human body I am also of the opinion that we do experience all those things as real as our default.  How could we not?  We have to learn about the higher Self that observes the craziness.  And sometimes we forget.  Sometimes Prakriti grows so big and bold and heavy and all consuming that there is no room for any notion of a higher Self, an observer.

That happened to me recently, right after graduating from my teacher training.  I forgot everything and I abandoned all I knew, all I had learned, and fell into full immersion in a personal/relationship situation that blew the doors off my yoga practice.  I cried through a couple of yoga classes and stopped going for awhile; I forgot my diaphragmatic breathing;  I couldn't even begin to access the wisdom of the Sutras; and my body, oh my poor body, was flooded with cortisol (the stress hormone) for about 2 straight weeks -- my sympathetic nervous system in Fight, Flight, Freeze mode every minute of the day and night.  I didn't sleep much.  I lost weight. (Always a happy side effect of trauma!)  I saw no end in sight.

But to my credit, I never give up.  I read.  I researched.  I got support.  I talked and talked and talked to the person I had the issue with.  We eventually found common ground and while that ground may still be a bit shaky, it's solid enough not to fall over right now.

Yesterday I went to the first class of the Sutra series at Yoga Circle and to my delight found five of my yogini teacher training friends there too.  We had all come back to learn more from our guru, Elizabeth.  I went to her gentle yoga class this morning too and realized I was finding my way back on the path of calming the fluctuations of the mind -- the true purpose of Yoga.

With repeated study, reminders, exposure to the amazing wonders of yoga, I trust that I won't be thrown so far afield next time this human life gives me a challenge.  Because, life is hard.  Thankfully the  antidote is simple, if not always easy.  We just have to remember to use it.

Namaste, donnajurene

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

SUP? NOPE.

Oooo....chilly morning.  I've got two layers of long sleeves on and some woolen socks.  While September in the PNW can be gorgeous, we can all tell summer is waning here in late August.  Morning fog, earlier dusk, gardens winding down, even some leaves turning from green to golden.

Which reminds me, again this year I forgot to do any Stand-Up Paddleboard Yoga.  "Forgot" maybe isn't the right word....I'm NEVER going to do SUP Yoga!

I am an evolved land-dwelling human who has left her gills eons behind.  I see no reason to ever put myself in a situation where my face might have to meet the water.  This interferes with normal human lung breathing.  I like normal human lung breathing.  I like it so much that any memories of childhood swim lessons where I had to actually put my face in the water, put my whole head under the surface (!) and on one occasion had to be embarrassingly fished out of the water with a "lifesaver hook" at the YWCA, as I panicked and flailed in the deep end, is mostly banished from memory.

I know SUP Yoga is currently all the rage.  I see the lovely photos of people (women mostly) doing all manner of yoga maneuvers atop a SUP on brilliantly blue sky days at the lake.  As an "idea" this is great fun.  In reality, um, no.  I also have to wonder if all those perfectly framed photographs are photo-shopped.  That board is really sitting on your rec room floor, isn't it?  Very clever!

HaHa.  Just kidding.  I actually know teachers who do this for real and students who follow their lead.  The photo with this post is of Carly who used to teach at YCS.  She's great; I loved her classes. I also know current YCS teacher and my Yoga Teacher Training instructor, Elizabeth, does SUP.  She even brought her SUP to our teacher training retreat at Diablo Lake in case any of us wanted to try it...in Diablo Lake's 44 degree glacial melt waters.  No takers.

I guess like surfing and swimming this is fun for some.  If they take a spill off the board, they come up laughing, hair slicked back perfectly, face aglow, like some beautiful yoga mermaid ready to hop back on and do it again.  I can accurately predict I'd come up spewing water and spittle, hair crisscrossing my face, over my eyes, blinding me, and leaving me looking like a shaggy dog, likely crying, hyperventilating, and begging someone to get me to shore, NOW, where I'd sit berating myself for being such a yoga dud and hating how I look in a swimsuit.  I have no need to put myself in that situation.

In fairness to my attempts to be an adventurer, I tried to be on a SUP one time -- not even doing yoga!  Just sitting there.  My atheletic husband loves to ride his SUP.  He has an inflatable one that, once blown up with his super duper battery powered air pump, is rigid and sturdy.  He actually lugs this 50 pound toy to Hawaii every year (deflated in its carry bag) and paddles around the bay and rides the waves in front of our condo unit.

Last trip he suggested that it might be fun to take it to the river and I could sit in front of him while he paddled us upriver.  He suggested this for about two weeks of our 2-1/2 week stay and finally I relented.  Snuggly tucked into my life vest, I took my seat and immediately noticed the unbalanced nature of us tipping back and forth on the surface.  I white knuckled my not moving Staff Pose as he tried to find a way to keep us upright.  Having another person on the board was a learning curve situation for him.  Then he started to paddle, periodically bonking me in the head with the oar as he swung the paddle from side to side.  The wind picked up; it was hard to make forward progress, and not fun for either of us.  After about 30 minutes he suggested we turn back....which is just about unheard of.  He never bails on anything.  I was relieved.  And while I didn't get thrown off, neither did I have much fun.

Yes, I'm a water dud...with the exception of kayaking which for some reason I really enjoy.  I am close to, but not in the water.  I choose sunny days, with glassy calm 'seas'; I don my life vest, and paddle away assuming no disasters will befall me.  Could be wishful thinking and could be deemed inconsistent with my fears.  Go figure.  It works for me.

I wonder if Kayak Yoga is a thing?  Nah....methinks best to stay seated.  But if you try it, let me know how it goes.

Namaste, donnajurene

Photo Credit:  From Carly's FB page: Catalyst Yoga

TEARS IN MY EARS

You may have noticed the subtitle of this blog; it goes like this:  "My blissful experience with a yoga practice...also falling down, crying, laughing, and sleeping in class".

I've done all those things -- falling out of poses, laughing with joy, sleeping during Savasana.  And crying...not often, but sometimes.  Not recently, until yesterday.

I'm having challenging year with a family life situation that seems to have come out of the blue, but has been brewing, apparently.  It's hard.  Relationships are hard.  Loving is hard.  I've got a big tool box full of personal growth and spiritual growth tools and I've tried to use the ones best suited to this job, but I've got a call in to get a "refresher" from the tool guru--my therapist.  I did not anticipate finding myself in this spot now.  Part of the challenge is the shock.

I have not done a yoga practice since my Yoga Teacher Training Graduation on July 31.  I've let that tool lie dormant as I went away on a trip, then came home to a week of grandchild care.  I told myself I'd do a home practice with an online teacher, but I didn't motivate myself to do it.

Yesterday I made myself go to the studio.  I hesitated, again, because Saturday classes tend to be super crowded and the last thing I wanted was to socialize.  Depression is not friendly and chatty.  So I got there really early, waited just outside the door to the inner space until the previous class finished, and then dashed in to claim a place as far away from everyone else as possible -- in the back corner near the restroom.

I saw friends across the room and felt the warmth of connection just knowing they were there, but not talking to them.  I heard Elizabeth's familiar voice, instructing as she always does to begin lying down, following the breath, letting thoughts go, being in the moment.

Then the floodgates opened.  I cried lying there, tears of sorrow, and grief, and fear, and relief.  I just let it happen as I heard her quiet cadences nurturing me.   I cried and cried until I began to feel the tears rolling back along my upper cheeks and pooling in my ears.  Then I chuckled to myself.  It was funny, that I was making a pond of tears in my outer ears.  I had to grab a tissue and sop out the salty sea.

We went on with our practice.  I kept my mind focused, my eyes closed, my energy extending no further than the confines of my mat.  I cried.  And I felt safe: the studio so artistically beautiful, a nurturing space so familiar to me, a teacher I admire and trust, and teacher training friends across the room to give me silent support they didn't even know they were lending just by being there.

We come to the mat some days feeling strong and balanced.  We come to the mat some days feeling joyful and energetic.  We come to the mat some days feeling like the mat is the only thing saving us from despair.  We come to the mat with all of our self -- the True Self that observes, and the very human, egoic self that is caught in the human condition.

It's all OK.  It's all welcome.  Come cry with me.  ©
Namaste, donnajurene