I had a phone session with my therapist a few weeks ago. I began by saying, “Well, since last we talked, there has been a solar eclipse, forest fires, storms, and floods of Biblical proportions, and it seems we are on the brink of WW3.. And that is just on the outer plane.”
And, of course, she asks me, “Have you had any dreams?”
“Why, yes,” I replied, “yes, I have.”
Writing about yoga teaching and practice these days always feels like it runs the risk of being somewhat tone deaf. And yet, I do not have much to add in terms of political or social commentary.
As a practitioner and teacher, I can add my two cents that I believe practice remains relevant and important—although more than one of my colleagues and students has told me their practice feels insignificant, self-indulgent, and even meaningless in the face of so much devastation, heartbreak and corruption.
I think those feelings of doubt are completely understandable, especially for those tender-hearted, optimistic individuals who have practiced for the last 1-20 years thinking that their personal yoga practice and the collective energy of other folks who practice was actually helping the world be a better place. I, being a more self-centered realist (as opposed to a tender-hearted idealist) have never been motivated to practice by such lofty aims as world peace or making the world a better place.
Don’t get me wrong, I am into world peace. And, I certainly think there are some things “out there” that could use improving. And, to be fair, if you pressed me, and we went down the rabbit hole of my reasons for sustaining practice in my life, maybe, just maybe the conversation might end up there anyway..
But practice for outer change is not the narrative from which I operate on a daily basis.
For years, I practiced mostly to avoid the personal suffering that came in the form of self-hatred, addictive behavior, anxiety and general ennui. I suppose some of that original motivation remains in the pantheon of my personal reasons for practice. But at some point in my journey, I realized that I no longer felt crazy, isolated, or in need of a constant reality check lest I head down a road dictated by my lesser angels. At some point I realized, that having practice in my life is just a better way for me to live. Additionally, many behaviors and perspectives no longer required so much “practice”, but had simply integrated themselves into a more natural way of being.
These days I feel like we are living in a scene from the Lord of the Rings right before the big battle, when the forces of evil are gathering and, as is usually the case in any epic tale, the odds are not on the side of those fighting for Light. I mean, one scroll through my newsfeed doesn’t bear much good news about our current, collective plight. (Okay, there are the puppy videos. And some lovely reports of human kindness and small-scale miracles. So that is something,)
And so, if I practiced because I thought that my down dog could influence our current President to abandon his divisive tactics and become a man of unity, I would have already given up. If I practiced because I thought that embracing the abandoned and disowned parts of myself would make a difference in the heart of Neo-Nazi’s, hate groups and the growing alt-right, well, I would not sustain the effort.
And, as much as I have studied the non-dual dharma teachings of many traditions, I take very little refuge in the teachings of non-duality on a daily basis. I mean, sure, it’s all One and what was never actually born (the soul) can never truly die and this play of circumstances is simply the One manifesting in its myriad choices of freedom, blah, blah, blah. Great teachings. Inspiring and up-lifting. Even great conversational fodder on any given day.
But not why I practice.
I figure we are always lined up on a battlefield facing an enemy of some kind— be that enemy one’s personal demons, damaging social imperatives, oppressive cultural structures, or the many expressions our corrupt political arena— and we are called to fight. I believe practice is part of that fight. I believe that whatever peace, clarity, sense of okay-ness, embodiment, and/or transcendence we are blessed to find through the various mechanisms of practice are part of our armor and arsenal in a battle where the odds often don’t look very good.
But not fighting is the other choice and for me, not fighting means despair, blame, violence, etc. which are not viable options.
At some point in my teaching, I stopped promising that “if you do_____, this good thing will happen.” I mean, it might. But it also might not. It might for a little while. Then it might not for a very long while. And so on. The whole narrative of “getting better” and “achieving” has a lot of downsides on a practical level after a certain point. For me, the point of the practice is to do the practice and, it seems, that the outcomes of said practice may never be fully known and may not always be felt or experienced as "good.".
I am sure there are a ton of loopholes and inconsistencies in my musings today, which I am not really prepared to defend. My point is, if, in the face of “all of it” these days, you have abandoned your practice in some way— be it literally, like you never roll out your mat anymore, or figuratively, like you have lost faith— find some aspect of practice again. Today.
Not one political crisis, environmental tragedy, or interpersonal argument will be made better by you not being your most whole, integrated, work-in-progress self. CNN, Facebook and the Twitter-stream will be there when you return from your mat, cushion or various service work. Even if your practice won’t make the world a better place, it certainly won’t make it worse.
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"There is a light that shines beyond all things on Earth, beyond us all, beyond the heaven, beyond the highest, the very highest heavens. This is the light that shines in our heart."