Can you ever have too much gratitude? I doubt it?
This is a repost from 2014; however, I was reminded, through a cascade of`teachable moments, to be eternally gratefully–for every moment. There is no need to anticipate, and this does take effort, the next moment will get here!
Prayer is an interesting activity. Like meditation, it is an opportunity to go inside and merge with stillness. However, so many people pray their power away–they ask for assistance, intervention, and blessings; but, they do not, simply, offer gratitude for what is going well.
Recently, I was challenged by a dear friend to post 3 statements of gratitude, for a week, on my Facebook page. Over, the years I have done several exercises in gratitude– which is something I continue to work on cultivating. Whenever, I make a conscious attempt to find something to be grateful for, the gratitude flows in abundance. One positive thought, attending to one gift, becoming aware of an inkling of Prasad becomes a river of plenty.
Many people mistakenly believe that prayer is not part of the Yoga tradition. Conversely, this tradition has consists of four pillars: meditation, contemplation, mantra, and prayer. However, it is taught, prayer begins as a dialogue and converges into a unification.
Prayer instills us with bhava, the strong emotion of devotion–but, we don’t have to pray our power away. Offer gratitude for what is working. You and the Divine Source are one and the same– therefore, nothing can be against you. Sit with the blessings before asking for intervention. You may discover that you are all the resources you need.
I’ve been recycling a bit lately because being a good teacher isn’t about finding new things to say all of the time. Sometimes, it is about restating and reframing. The path of Yoga isn’t about complicated techniques. It is about depth; it is not about breadth. You don’t need to know a million techniques to know the Center of Consciousness. Whichever path you choose, you have to commit to going to the threshold again and again.
Originally posted August 27, 2014
A few months ago, I was being coached by a wonderful teacher, Radhika Shah-Grouven, on how to keep doing “this” when I am so busy. I know we all feel very busy, and with regard to scheduling, I am: the family, full-time job, additional clients, commuting, this blog… this list could be endless. However, I find that I am only as overwhelmed as I believe that I am– of course, this falls within certain physical parameters: I must get sleep (although I get 5.5-6 hours), I must eat well, I must drink water, I must exercise, and I must meditate.
Meditation doesn’t cause me to suddenly have a “stress-free” life. However, it has caused me to be very aware of my reaction to stress. It has afforded me enough self-awareness to realize how much I can take on or how much I must put down. I definitely experience times of ambivalence and apathy– times when I would rather sit on the couch and veg out. However, I would rather allocate predetermined “free-time” to meditation.
My lineage recommends four times a day– that may seem daunting to a newcomer. I would recommend a newcomers dedicate time for one to two sittings. As I have stated previously, five to seven minutes; but, commit and do it. In the same way you wouldn’t consider leaving the house without brushing your teeth, commit to going inside.
My teacher, Swami J, says to make it an appointment, like lunch with a friend. If you are late, you postpone and make it up, as soon as possible– like your lunch date. Life happens! But, as Radhika taught me, you have a “mental mat”– it goes with you everywhere. She explained that there were times when she just touched the mental mat while riding the train! The more you return to the center, the more it stays with you. Many times, my meditation pillow is in the cockpit of my car, and my meditation room is a parking lot.
When the modifications of the mind have become weakened, the mind becomes a transparent crystal…
Sutra 1.4
I originally posted this a year ago. This posting is extremely close to my heart. I’m always seeking a friendship with my heart and mind.
The last few weeks have been fairly hectic: I am planning a meditation intensive retreat, I am taking some continuing education classes, my work schedule is changing, the children have a bunch of activities, and I am a little over-extended. So working on a blog post has been demoted on my list of obligations.
But, despite all the busyness, my mind-state has been fairly steady, or ekagra. I attribute this to regularity in my practice.
In the Yoga Tradition, the mind is viewed as an instrument through which we receive information about the sensory world (manas), where we store memories and formulate opinions (chitta), it is where our sense of individuality arises (ahamkara), and where our conscience resides (buddhi)–but, not our consciousness.
The four aforementioned aspects of the mind are collectively called the antahkarana–or the inner instrument. The word “instrument” is so profound. Yoga science expounds, the mind is not who we are; but, mind is a tool, which can be sharpened to glean clearer understanding of who we are and what needs to be done to Realize our True Nature.
According to Yoga science, our minds becomes colored by our experiences— think of it as a dusty layer on a window. Therefore, they do not allow the truth to diffuse through. We are colored by perceptions of race, social status, gender, etc. Reflect for a moment on a baby who lacks these associations.
Through meditation we wipe off the layers of dust and eventually the clear mind allows the truth to shine through.
But, the mind is only capable of becoming crystalline…
What is the light that shines through the crystalline mind?
Eventually, the mind, like all good tools must be set down. Would you walk around in the house you built clutching the hammer?
Over time, with dedication, consistency, and faith, the mind is set down and total awareness of the Self will shine through.
Until then, tell your mind “thank-you” for all that it does. Do not be angry with your mind for thinking any more than you would be angry with your hand for grasping or your ear for hearing. Ask your mind to be your friend, so that you can dust the lens, and see the world as it truly is.
As always, click the links!
Marvel at what happens when a collection of beautiful souls agrees it will!
CBH
Recently, I was at Unity North Atlanta for an interfaith service where the presenter was Tom Blue Wolf, a Native American Elder from North Georgia. He discussed numerous amazing subjects, artfully linking them together in an intricate lattice-like experience. During his talk he spoke about bees. He’s a beekeeper, he sells honey and bee pollen. He shared how perfect they are in their creation. He articulated, how they had evolved so little over millions of years. Unlike other species, who keep getting upgraded or deleted.
I am not an entomologist. However, the concept of the bee colony captivated my imagination. I began to think about the bees as über-collective consciousness. Their whole life dedicated to the survival of the whole. We can learn so much from them. The Earth is the whole, we all have the opportunity to be steward worker bees.
But in many societies, the image of a worker bee is a negative metaphor. We think of a mindless drone buzzing about in the mundane. Images come to mind of “sheeple” lined up twisting wingnuts on a conveyor belt.
However, a life of complete service is nothing to scoff at. If we really subscribe to the philosophy that we are all one, we all are here to serve each other.
This does not denote that individual hopes and dreams are invaluable. If we are aligned in our center and engage in introspective practices (such as affirmative prayer, internal dialogue, gratitude and meditation) we realize that these same hopes and dreams pervade all of human consciousness. To quote the practice of loving-kindess meditation, we all want to be “happy, well, safe, peaceful and at ease”.
The Sanskrit word seva is “is a service which is performed without any expectation of result or award for performing it. Such services can be performed to benefit other human beings or society“. All of our work can be done with this held in our heart. Nothing is really ours, we are on borrowed time–so give it all away.
A Starlet, who will not be named, popularized the term “conscious uncoupling”. At first, I thought it was pretentious; however, at this phase in my life, I can see validity in the statement. Moreover, it’s reciprocal is poignant.
Sitting still, in silence, affords us the opportunity to uncouple our consciousness from it’s habitual moving outward. In silence, we can peel back the layers that we have created to the substratum– the ground matrix where the Truth is.
It is so simple; yet, for many of us, it is not so easy.
We are always plugged in, we are always stimulating ourselves–even if the stimulation appears benign.
For example, a person may say “my meditation is working in the garden”. Communing with nature is a beautiful and healthy action. But, it’s still doing something. Listening to classical music is edifying; but, listening to music about engaging the senses. What is being avoided?
The senses are the vehicle through which we experience this world. Aside from sleeping (and many of us don’t do that) they are constantly being engaged. Furthermore, due to our hectic lifestyles they are exponentially more engaged then at any other time.
Being in a quiet room is disengagement from the sense of hearing. Deliberately sitting still is disengagement from our action sense of movement and the importer sense of touch. Closing the eyes is disengagement from the sense of sight. Now this energy can be directed to inner exploration.
This is the true uncoupling. The uncoupling of your temporary ego driven self which goes willy-nilly for everything wants and you open yourself, the definition of yoga , to Eternity.
I originally posted this in February 2015. I am reposting with some edits–it feels so relevant to my previous post (Heartbreak Catapult). The spiritual path (sadhana) is not a straight line it is a circuitous path.
It would be ludicrous to think as a practitioner of Yoga Meditation I don’t get angry. Candidly, my inclination toward becoming annoyed is a reason I am dutiful with my practice.
According to DISC personality typing, I am an “I”–which means “Influence”–but, it can also mean impulsive! The same energy that is the source of my strengths is also the source of my lesser strengths (not weaknesses).
This morning I got angry with my son. Paradoxically, the people we are closest to can be the source of our greatest joy sand the catalyst of our greatest frustrations!
I have a lot invested in my son–he is after all, my son. With an investment comes an expectation. When the investment does not yield a return there is disappointment. The return on investment is an attraction and the disappointment is an aversion.
According to the Yoga Sutras, both attraction (raga) and aversion (dvesha) are two sides of the same coin–attachment. Both stem from a primal lack of knowledge regarding our True Nature (avidya) which is perennial and not ephemeral.
Conversely, the apparent nature of the physical world is transient. Due to this, we cling to the things and experiences of the physical world that we love. We push away the things and experiences that we abhor. But, both the pushing and pulling cause us suffering (dukha or dukkha).
I am attracted to my son doing what I believe is best (for me), he does something other than that, my expectation is not met, I experience disappointment, my disappointment is a form of suffering. To the unmastered mind, all worldly experiences yield suffering because they are impermanent. However, this does not have to be the case.
When we are rooted in awareness of our True Nature from earnest practice and non-attachment (abhyasa and vairagya) we are aware of the fleeting nature of our experiences and we can be released from the suffering of attraction and aversion. It does not mean we are apathetic or ambivalent–I am still going to parent my child–with the hope that he leads a skillful and happy life. But, I am working on not expecting him to do what I want. We still have rules. If he breaks them, he is punished. But, now it’s not a big emotional tirade–because I didn’t get what I want.
Today I got angry; I felt the blood pump and my temperature rise. But, I was very aware that this was a bodily experience and not who I am at the core; moreover, not an emotion I have to act on. I didn’t resist the anger–that is aversion–I just let it come. I went for a drive and returned as the person I want to be.
It has been a powerful 10 months–although when does life cease to provide opportunities for growth? My husband and I separated and are in the process of divorcing; due to my spiritual prowess (sarcasm oozing) I thought I was over “it“.
I know grieving is a natural process– I even wrote a post about it! Yet, somehow I hallucinated I had earned spiritual cred and would ascend the proverbial staircase effortlessly. Well, it hasn’t been flawless.
I, a long time aspirant, rebounded, ate too much sugar, slacked on my meditation practice, called into work sick, grumped with my children, and finally acknowledged that I am unhappy to be uncoupling. But, the heartache is also bringing me to a place that is so real and fertile.
About a year ago, when I couldn’t even imagine that we were on the verge of separation, I was hosting a meditation retreat. My group skyped with Ma Tri and she shared a beautiful insight about devotion. To paraphrase, she explained that these practices are not about suppressing emotions; rather, an adept harnesses them to fuel their quest for self-knowledge. Emotions are energy–the energy of desire.
Right now, I have to be with this pain. It is my teacher, it is teaching me about attachment. But, it is also teaching me about gratitude. I have gratitude for the skill of self-inquiry, which I have developed during this spiritual journey. I have gratitude for the ability to shift from my sadness to reflect on what is working in my life.
When I feel that I am beating myself up, I return to my favorite Rumi poem, “…even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come”. Then I know that these practices, my sadhana, is working.
Part 11, the final installment, of “How Do You Qualify Yoga?” (a series I originally posted and have converted to a permanent page).
“Everyone has weaknesses. Wise is he who acknowledges his weaknesses and works steadily to remove them and replace them with the essential virtues that strengthen him and make him brave, fearless, and truthful.”
Swami Rama: “The Perennial Psychology of the Bhagavad Gita”
There are so many ways to approach this qualifier of a Yogic approach (all of which I have discussed in previous posts): the eight-runged path of the Yoga Sutras, a discussion on samskaras, developing the skill of witnessing, and uncoloring. Even better, a combination of the four (although a scholar can illustrate innumerous examples of this being the purpose of the practices).
In this Tradition, classically, one did not begin with meditation directly. One began with developing a dharmic lifestyle. This is seems at conflict with the Western concept of Yoga being almost amoral (not immoral)–as if anything goes. The difference between the morality of Yoga and many other belief systems is the morality is intrinsic; it is morality for the sake of morality. It arises from the understanding that we all are One; the integrity of a Yogi is not due to fear of retribution from a deity. The early teachings of Yoga sought to develop this inner compass, then the aspirant would move into a seated meditation practice.
After moving into meditation, we begin to notice that thoughts come and go constantly. As we spend more time in this space we begin to notice that thoughts have trends. Perhaps we discover we have a trend towards judgement, craving of material items, or feelings of unworthiness. These trends can be thought of as being grooves that are etched into our mind-field–the Yogis called these samskaras.
The initial goal of Yoga meditation is to become AWARE of these patterns, NOT to critique or engage with them. Early meditation is not psychoanalysis, it is accepting that all minds are capable of all types of thoughts: good, bad, and neutral. But, thought is not who we are, it is what we are doing. The art of witnessing is allowing the mind to naturally unfold without interfering with the process. This reduces the emotional attachment to the thought, it uncolors them. It is easier said than done.
Over time, the more practiced meditator begins to take a dispassionate stance and without judgment seeks to teach the mind to cultivate thoughts which bring them closer to harmony. A practiced meditator explains to their mind (yes, I know how that sounds; but, dialogue with one’s own mind is essential if you want your mind be sharpened) this thought is useful and this thought is not useful. Over time the mind entrains towards thoughts which create equanimity.
So after writing this series, what have I learned: I need to meditate more!
From the Gross to the Subtle 