March 3, 2009
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Dear Friends, Yogis and Yoginis,
Ageing
This morning my teacher was a 99 year old Swami, who still has all
of his teeth and perfect vision! We did a rapid fire version of
yoga-calisthenics exercises, many of which he could do far better
than me (but I was delighted to find myself able to do 30 jumping-jacks!)
He demonstrated everything, did it with us playfully and quickly.
And then abruptly and sternly, as if giving orders in the army,
he’d say “Now Relax!” We laughed good-naturedly
through most of the class, which, quite unique to any yoga class
I’ve ever taken, ended with laughing meditation.
Whenever I’ve spotted this Swami around the ashram, he’s
been surrounded by eager students huddling in lively conversations,
his laughter sailing above their voices into the air around them.
Truly a gem of a human being, it’s an honor to simply be in
his presence.
Laughter is the best medicine, so the saying goes. And this
Swami’s radiant health is an overwhelming testament to that
wisdom.
Ahimsa and Judgment
Last night’s darshan included a wide discussion on the nature
of ahimsa, which translates as non-violence. The translation was
skillfully expanded to include non-violence in thought and speech,
not just in action.
This part of the discussion was led by a Western woman who took
renunciation in 1996 and has lived at the ashram since then. She
spoke eloquently and with great intelligence about this aspect of
yoga philosophy for life, on and off the mat.
As I sat listening to her discussion I found myself in an inner
conflict. I agreed with everything she was teaching, but was in
perpetual judgment about the affected way she was speaking. There
were long dramatic pauses between simple words, drawn out vowels,
and lengthy S and AH sounds to end certain words. While empathetic
to the “role” she was playing, I longed to hear her
genuine voice.
The irony…there I was sitting in judgment of her as she was
talking about the different forms of inner himsa, violence, which
included judgments of self and other!
After her presentation a man asked a question. She underlined and
repeated aspects of what she’d just said, with the same affected
persona. He asked his question again. As I reflected on my communication
trainings, I thought, “He didn’t feel heard or understood
by the way she answered his question. Perhaps he even felt judged
and misunderstood. So he‘s repeating himself. Often, when
people repeat themselves, they haven‘t felt seen or brought
into respectful connection with the one to whom they are speaking.”
This time as she answered him, by basically repeating her first
answer, her affect dropped away a bit and the annoyance in her voice
was clear to me and those sitting near me in my group. We immediately
judged her again…!! “Such hypocrisy!” (You could
feel us mentally transmitting this to each other.)
Ouch! What a tremendous example of the himsa in all of us; as well
as a reflection of the power of projection onto leaders and teachers.
We rolled our eyes in harmony. Ouch, we just did it again!
……………………….
Early the next morning, I was practicing in the big tent by myself,
before sunrise. It was completely dark. About 45 minutes later,
a tall Indian woman wearing red pants, a red sweater, a brown wool
hat, and an orange shawl came in and abruptly awoke people who were
sleeping on the chairs and couches in the back of the tent. She
spoke a mixture of English and Hindi. Either way you could hear
the authority and irritation in her voice. She briskly complained
to the sound engineer (who would be helping the scheduled teacher
with translations) about the inappropriateness and immaturity of
these lazy festival workers. She exclaimed that instead of practicing
this morning, she would “just keep watch.” Her red clothes
were getting more red as the minutes went by!
Again, I found myself with a mixture of feelings: empathy and judgment
co-existed. I couldn’t help but reference the Enneagram and
Eckart Tolle’s teachings (I discovered a fabulous book here
that compares his teachings with those of the great Indian saint,
Sri Aurobindo.) I guessed that her “pain-body” was pretty
exacerbated. She wasn’t aware of her own inappropriate and
disruptive behavior. Several times she came in and out of the tent,
both prior to and during the practice, and exchanged words with
someone whose energy then seemed deflated, confused, or burdened.
Though these exchanges were not directed at me, I could feel the
intensity of her “vibe” and the toxicity which was left
in the tent, even after she’d depart.
That’s where the empathy came in. I wondered what it must
feel like to be her in those moments. I guessed she was feeling
overwhelmed, perhaps resentful or burdened. She may have been working
long hours or pushing herself to do more than she was required to
or capable of doing. Perhaps she was feeling lonely and underlying
that had a need for support and connection.
I recalled Eckart’s teachings on the pain-body and also empathized
as her “display” of this clearly revealed how out of
character we are in our pain-body moments, and how out of touch
we are with our impact on others. Really, we may just be crying
out for help, expressing, as Marshall Rosenberg would say, our valid
but unmet needs in a tragically unskillful way. Unfortunately, it
takes a lot for those around us, who may be quite taken off guard,
to remember that we’re simply presenting pain; and that, most
of all, we need love and security.
Having lived at retreat centers for five years, and having been
“behind the scenes” for countless meditation and yoga
retreats, I know that there is the human side to all of this spiritual
undertaking and investigating. The One aspect of the Enneagram is
the judge, with high standards, principles and morals. That aspect
of me has wanted people to live up to the teachings! The Four aspect
of the Enneagram has been called the deep sea diver of the psyche.
And that aspect of my nature, which is my base nature on the Enneagram,
moves to empathy and curiosity.
In large spiritual gatherings, I often find my judgments and eye
rolls accompanying my tenderness and compassion, and vice versa.
To the extent that one aspect arises over the other is probably
a reflection of how well my own “needs have been met.”
In other words, how much am I in my contentment and not my hunger.
These days I’m practicing an inner yoga of noticing every
time judgment or comparison arise. I keep Eckart’s words as
good company for my own knowing: both judgment and comparison strengthen
the “ego” and create greater separateness. In that state,
my hunger overpowers my contentment. For every time I feel even
the slight sting of and then surrender the arising judgment or comparison,
I’m immediately returned to the immense and contented love
that feeds and nourishes us all.
(Incidentally, Riso points out that One, when out of balance, move
to the righteous side of the judgment spectrum, where their sense
of being better than creates the separation and a resulting arrogance
and aloneness. Fours move to the comparison side of the spectrum
where a sense of less than causes the separateness and resulting
isolation. Either way, surrendering these mind habits softens us
immediately back to grace and connection.)
Namaste,
Sarahjoy
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