What Causes Suffering?
Part Two

Empty roadCheck out last week’s blog –
What Causes Suffering? pt.1

This morning as I dressed to meet my friend for coffee, my husband plugged in the vacuum and started vacuuming the upstairs rugs. “Lucky,” so many of my friends would say. Instead of feeling lucky, however, I felt guilty.

“I will do that,” I told him. “You don’t have to.”
“When will you have time?” he responded. “I don’t mind.”

I realized he was right, but even as I sit and write this, I still feel disappointed I had not taken care of the vacuuming, especially as my husband does many chores to maintain our home.

The unease I feel comes from two sources. The first, the comparisons I make with other women who are far more attentive housekeepers than I. They maintain homes appearing orderly, vacuumed, and elegantly decorated. While my unease as a housekeeper does not qualify as “suffering,” my thinking leads me to feel “inadequate” when the subject of housekeeping comes up. I start to think about the bathroom needing cleaning, the rug needing vacuuming, or the cobwebs to be dusted from the top kitchen shelf.

But, on the positive side, I am able to recognize my thinking and assumptions as avidya (lack of understanding, misapprehension), and specifically as that branch of avidya called asmita. Asmita or ego can also be described as “I-am-ness.” When asmita rules the mind we have a distorted view of ourselves. We think we are better than others or not as good – superior or inferior, both of which are avidya.

In our own lives, each of us has a set of descriptions we use when asked about our background. “I am a mother.” “I am a doctor.” “I am a yoga student.” “I am a diabetic.” “I am a Methodist.” “I am an American.” “I am a homeless person.” “I am a wife, a husband, a child, a father, a teacher, a heart patient, a loser, a success” and on and on. This is “I-am-ness.”

These identities we take on are what our minds tells us we are, or what we are taught we are. We identify with what each of these means to us. And because there are values assigned to identities within our culture, labels of superior and inferior may be assigned to individuals either by others or themselves.

That was the second source of my unease when my husband plugged in the vacuum. “Wife” is an identity I take on. Because of my upbringing, there are certain standards I associate with it, like “wife does vacuuming.”

At the core of the problem of “I-am-ness” is this: When we believe these identities constitute who we are, we are blind to our higher consciousness, known as purusa. This higher consciousness, the unchanging light of awareness, lies within each one of us. There is no superior or inferior. But when our “I-am-ness” gets in the way, it blocks our ability to recognize who we truly are and, instead, leads us down another road to suffering.

 

What Causes Suffering?
Part One

Dark windowCorrect perception characterizes the state of yoga. We see a situation clearly; we base a decision on our perception; we act on the decision, and things go well. Without correct perception, we have no clarity. A decision is then based upon misunderstanding, and when we act based upon misunderstanding, things do not go well. Suffering then results for us and perhaps others.

We saw President Bush make a decision based upon incorrect understanding when invading Iraq in 2003. He based the decision on inaccurate reports that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction. The resulting devastation and chaos military action caused much suffering to many people – suffering that continues to this day.

How many times in our own lives have we made a decision based upon incorrect understanding? How many times have we correctly understood a situation but failed to act, even though to do so would have been beneficial?

Patanjali, author of the Yoga Sutra, identifies the incorrect perception or misapprehension characterizing both of these situations as avidya – the absence of the inner light of knowledge or wisdom. It is the most important of the five klesas or afflictions that cause us suffering. And, it is also the source of the other four klesas.

Where does avidya come from? In our lives we develop habits of acting and perception that come from our upbringing, environment, experiences, and culture. The habits of action and perception become deeply rooted so we are often unconscious of them – they are called samskara.

Imagine looking through a window onto a city street. A window so dirty we can’t see clearly what is happening is like our vision when these habits of perception or avidya veil our ability to see clearly. Yet, without the light of awareness we make decisions and take actions based upon our clouded vision. And, if we are not aware of this veil, we continue to make decisions and to act based upon misapprehension and wonder why things are going wrong. Why are we suffering?

Bernard Bouanchaud, in his commentary on the Yoga Sutra, explains that the klesas are the causes of “self-induced suffering.” He goes on to say: “The suffering that comes from oneself…is the only cause of suffering on which we can take direct action.” For we cannot eliminate suffering caused by others, and we cannot eliminate suffering caused by natural disasters. By “cleaning” our distorted perceptions from the window through which we view the world, we can reduce our own suffering and the ill-conceived actions that may cause suffering to others. Next week we will continue to examine the next of the klesas – asmita, ego or “I-amness.” In the meantime, become aware of your decisions and why you make them. Notice if you are feel uneasy or unsure as you do make them and act. Consider if you may perceive, decide, and act out of habit. Observe the results of your decisions and actions. Try writing your observations in a journal.

Check out What Causes Suffering? pt.2
 

Here Comes the Sun

Horizon imageVisualization can be a powerful tool of yoga, especially when the visualization focuses on an object in nature. One of the most revered objects of visualization and meditation in yoga is the sun.

It is no wonder. The sun is the source of life. All that grows is sunlight transformed. The sun warms the earth, the air, the water and provides light. The light of the sun in yoga is also associated with the qualities of clarity, healing, protection, courage, and health. When we link to the light of the sun in our practice, we may grow in that quality we desire in our life.

If a student comes to a yoga teacher needing more clarity on her life path, the teacher might suggest a practice that incorporates both a visualization and a mantra or chant focusing on sunlight. The practice then would incorporate “sight,” and sound, all with the intention of linking to the clarity the light of the sun brings.

Mantra, like visualization, is another powerful tool of yoga. The translation for mantra is “that which protects.” A mantra focusing on sunlight can help the student move toward clarity not only because of the word or words, but also because of the vibrational quality of the letters of Sanskrit. It is believed the Sanskrit language has the ability to touch and affect our entire system.

The bija mantra or seed sounds of the sun is a powerful mantra connected to the sun. The bija mantra is a relatively simple series of seven syllables in Sanskrit that denote the colors of the light of the sun: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet.

It is even possible to use the bija mantra with the sun salutation or other postures, which can intensify their effect. You can imagine how the layers of movement, sound, and visualization can focus the mind, and, if practiced over time with consistency, could help bring greater clarity to the student.

I know because I have worked with such practices myself and found they helped me to achieve greater clarity, courage, and healing.

Bija mantra:
Bija Mantra
 
You can hear the bija mantra by clicking below:

Discovery Yoga and Yoga 4 Wise Women often include visualization and chant. If you would like to explore these tools check the class calendar or contact me to schedule a private session.

 

Seeing

Tomato Horn Worm LarveToday at my family’s Labor Day picnic, my niece, an avid gardener, showed me a tomato-devouring hornworm. Bright green, about three inches long, and fat from having feasted on my brother-in-laws tomato plant. He was big enough to see even the detail of his mouth and the aphids that had taken up residence as parasites. I loved seeing him in all his brilliant green detail even while hoping my tomatoes would escape his attentions.

Last May I read Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. What struck me most in Dillard’s memoir was her attention to observing. Noticing. Seeing. She loved paying attention to the small things – observing insects, frogs, tadpoles, minnows. She loved the detail as it required being present, fully, to even notice this glut of life.

Sometimes this idea of seeing comes up for me in ways I don’t expect. In the spring I take my bonzais to a workshop at Nature’s Way. I admit to being a fearful pruner, a hesitant shaper, always afraid I will make a mess of my trees. This spring my patient bonsai teacher placed my oldest juniper on a counter about eight feet from where we stood and instructed – look at the tree. Where is the front? Where are the blocks of growth? What is the deeper shape of the tree to be revealed? That is what guides the scissors. Seeing.

In the spring I was struggling with the details of proper pronunciation of Sanskrit and the rhythm of Vedic chants I am studying. I called one of the teachers to ask for help. She went over three chants with me and told me to work only on those. As I followed her instruction, I saw more deeply into the letters and their pronunciation, recognized syllables and how they built the lines with their rhythm. The more I explored the same chants, the more I discovered, not just about them, but about chanting, and about myself, as I noticed my reactions. Focusing on less, more was revealed. And I saw it.

Often, though, I am not really seeing because I am taken up with speculating, or worrying. I imagine how a new class might turn out or anguish over whether a granddaughter will like a birthday present. When I am so caught up with these thoughts, I am not present. I am not seeing, let alone seeing deeply. The beauty of yoga practice is the awareness it brings so I recognize where my mind is loitering and choose to let go of the fruitless wanderings.

You may not be interested in the details of insect anatomy or bonsais or Vedic chant, but I think all of us seek to live fully, which requires being present to see the world in which we live. As we learn to be present in our yoga practice, we become aware when our mind wanders, as well. Then we can bring ourselves back to the moment. Present, we have the chance to see, to notice, to observe the hornworm and our heartbeat, the tree shape and our suffering, the rhythm of the chant and the ones we love trying to garner our attention for just a minute. Yoga practice gives us the foundation and practices to live fully.

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Moving Toward Truth

BrahmacharyaBrahmacharya is the 4th of the five yamas or attitudes and behaviors the Yoga Sutra recommends for our dealings with others.

In The Heart of Yoga, Desikachar explains “brahmacharya is composed of the root car, which means ‘to move,’ and the word brahma, which means ‘truth’ in terms of the one essential truth.” While brahmacharya is sometimes used to refer to abstinence in sexual relationships, it is really about following those behaviors and creating those relationships that “foster our understanding of the highest truths.” Likewise, Pat Shapiro, in her book Yoga for Midlife and Beyond, tells us that “responsible behavior in moving toward the truth” best describes the practice of brahmacharya. It is really about “moving toward and understanding what’s essential in life.”

Another part of brahmacharya is moderation. Desikachar speaks of moderation as producing “the highest individual vitality. We can all relate to how excessive behavior – whether it’s about sex, emotions, food, work, sport, spending, and so on, is injurious. I keeps us focused on external behaviors which eventually drain our energy and may have us engage in behaviors harmful to others, thus failing to practice the most important Yama – ahimsa or non-violence.

Excessive behaviors keep us from focusing internally. Without this internal focus, we are at a loss to connect with our own truth.
For me, the practice of brahmacharya is a practice of simplicity – living moderately and with care. Like the stones along the edge of a trail, it helps me to find my path.

To practice brahmacharya, you might reflect on and/or journal on the following questions;

  • Are there behaviors in your life that feel excessive and drain your energy?
  • Are there behaviors or relationships that feel out of line with your own truths or diminish your sense of peace?
  • Would you feel greater comfort moving toward what you perceive as most essential in your life?

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Vedic Chant: Sound, Beauty, Healing

Vedic ChantsIf you attended my yoga classes, you probably have had the experience of chanting a word or words in Sanskrit. The words I would have chosen for us to chant would have supported the focus for the class. For example, if we were focusing on the concept of “peace,” we would chant the Sanskrit word for peace, “shanti,” and allow that sound to help create a sense of peace in our bodies, our breath, our minds, and our hearts.

Because of my love of chanting and my desire to learn more, I spent ten days in May, 2013 in the 2nd module of a two year training in Santa Fe, New Mexico, focusing on Vedic Chant. The word “Vedic” comes from the noun “Veda,” meaning “knowledge” in the Sanskrit language. The Vedas, which are about 4,000 to 5,000 years old, are a collection of chants, poems, rituals, hymns, and mantras in Sanskrit passed generation to generation through chanting. What we chant from the Vedas is Vedic Chant, learned with attention to rhythm, meter, and pronunciation. The chants are pleasant to hear and chant. The sound of the chants has the potential to influence our entire system. Many of the chants are about Nature, health, and healing and can help bring about positive change for us.
 

Press to hear an example of a vedic chant.

 
In our ten days of Vedic Chant training, we chant a lot in small and large groups, receiving instruction and feedback from chanting teachers. We also study the Sanskrit language and the context and meaning of chants. When we finish the ten days, we chant and study on our own, seeking others who might also study Vedic Chant or requesting help from a teacher, often via Skype or phone.

I can’t tell you how many times I am asked why I am studying Vedic Chant or what I want to do with it. The answer to the first question is that I love the sound of the chants. I love the focus on Nature. I love that I am part of a group seeking to assure that Vedic Chant will continue to be passed on. I know the sound of the chants are special: they move energy; they support health; they heal.

The answer to the second question is that I hope to create a community of people who want to learn, experience, enjoy, and benefit from Vedic Chant. As I complete my training next year, I look forward to sharing my love of chant with you.

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