Great Expectations

This is one of those blogs wherein I am attempting to "practice" the art of blogging or writing or inscribing.  There are so many issues arising these days in the Encinitas area surrounding yoga this will probably wind up with my take on some old text that I have absolutely no business in commenting on, and in the process insult someones enlightenment.  Ahem.

So, since I have already played a bit with Pantanjalis's Yoga Sutras I will plunge in and attempt to bravely plow through the second verse that seems to hold out a beautiful carrot before the cart of my ego.  This one verse seems to hold the essence of what a well rounded practice offers.  And that is stilling the whirling of the mind, yogaha cittivritti nirodah (sorry, I don't have the software to put all the squiggles in the right place).  We then begin with great expectations that this yoga stuff will calm us down, give us the "better life" (whatever that is), the better job, unlimited checking, bottomless bank account, the "no-hassle" relationship and etc.  Like, man, give me the stuff.  Space cadet glow, endless bilss and etc. I want that flatline Buddha face.  To be the Buddhadude/ette (as the case may be) or The Bhudd, if you're into that whole brevity thing.  Just don't ask me to change a thing.

Here's the catch.  The first chapter is called Samadhi Pada and is designed for those already well established in practice.  Iyengar puts it succinctly "directed toward those that are already highly evolved to enable them to maintain their advanced state of cultured, matured intelligence and wisdom."  Ahem.  Chapter I is for them that is there bruddah cuz, not them that ain't even in the ball park yet.  That's Chapter 3 (which is where I am and therefore won't comment, TMI!).


So stilling the mindstuff is apparently not what many of us, myself included, expected it to be.  Just sit there, as comfortably as possible, and lo, like a cloud coming up from the desert, choirs of angels, Jesus and Lucifer walking hand in hand down Broadway and all is well in my nice, neat, whitey tighty little world. Or that quasi-orgasmic endorphin release (perchance a flashback) after an incredibly demanding cardio-asana workout with loud music and some yoga-queen spanking all and sundry like a dominatrix on crack. These activities mimic but falls short of actual representation of stillness of body and mind.  The Zen masters say that if you think you got it, you probably don't.  In the Tao te ching it clearly states "The Tao that can be told is not the Tao, the name that can be named is not the universal name." Seems fairly clear to me.  Even in my present state of ruffled waters.

Here are a few practices for your trip up Cold Mountain that have assisted me in my pilgrimage. I set my foundation.  If I am just sitting zazen, I light the candle, check the water bowl, light a stick of incense, bow before the butsudan, sit down, strike the bell three times and then just sit.  The stillness begins in that little, familiar ritual. 

For Yogasana practice it can be as simple as unrolling my mat.  Without tripping to far into the Theory of Special Relativity that action can be enough to recognize the importance of non-action now. Planting my feet I enter Tadasana, Mountain Posture and in that space, I begin my practice.

For an American much of this is hard to swallow.  We are a people that has become the living example of the 'Hungry Ghosts."  Little gnome like creatures with big heads, large gaping mouths full of nasty sharp teeth. The bellies are bloated as bellies do in a famine because the necks are too skinny to allow the passage of all the food being crammed into the cavernous maw.  The legs are stubby and the arms are long with sharp talons to rip and tear.  And they are frantic because they are always famished to the point of the high seas in the Perfect Storm. Sound familiar?

As you curl up your nose in disdain, just look!  The clear reflection that once showed you the billions of stars above your head has just shattered into millions of disconnected thoughts!  Either that or you have gone back in for another plate of spaghetti.

Stilling that mad maelstrom of  thought is nearer to you than your next breath, in that place in between breaths.  It cannot be bought or sold on Craig's List, found on Facebook or Twitter.

 Look!  From the nose of the Great Buddha, a swallow flies out!

Granthis and other hindrances

One of the most profound hindrances that I have found in my own practice is a false self perception that I feel to be true at the time.  It sneaks up on me like an Apache warrior in the night, so stealthy that even the fallen oak leaves remain silent at its passing.  Sometimes I find myself so wrapped up in this granthi that I find that I am ensnared and screaming like a rabbit, unable to escape. 

 But that is what they do.  These knots hinder us from realization of who we are, cause a lot of distress and then the kicking and screaming begin as we try and free ourselves.  If we are lucky, if our eyebrows are full of bushy wisdom, we won't blame others or circumstances.  If we remain foolish we tie the knot tighter blaming God, the Devil, the Universe, families, significant others and the stock market. Heh, we might even blame the neighbors spiritually inclined dog on a bad hair day.

Georg Feuerstein, in his most erudite way put the definition of "granthi" thus: " ...the knots from which those who know the traditional teachings (smriti) are released."  These knots are usually associated with desire and doubt.  I will start out with the desire part since the belief system (smriti) I most closely align myself with is Zen Buddhism. You may have heard of the "Fab Four" of the East, i.e. the Four Noble Truths of the Buddha. These noble truths teach us that the cause of this knot making course (suffering or duhkha) we so eagerly engage in is a bugger named desire. 

Desire for what?  Is it wrong to want something?  Nay, Grasshopper, methinks thou protests or' much!  The suffering that inflicts us on a daily basis is that perception that what we have is not enough.  But what is enough?  Herein enters practice. Practice teaches us to enter "disunion with the union with suffering." (Want to hear it in Sanskrit?  Ha, here it is anyway:  duhka samyoga viyoga). It is that want that is an ongoing ache in the belly.  It is the must have that overwhelms all other considerations.  This desire creates a knot called duhkha.
Let the Great Untying begin!

I came into this world (or was deposited here, willy nilly and I'm sure for some minor infraction by the Mother Ship) tightly wrapped on all levels.  I mean, talk about a bottleneck of my koshas (five sheaths or "envelopes that occlude the pure light of the transcendental Self."  Feurestein again) I was and probably still am a Gurus nightmare.  A regular mishmash of trying too hard to lose my self in order to gain myself all by the effort of my own personal hydra-headed ego known affectionately as the aham-kara (I-maker). The one that separates me from you and the rest of the stink'n planet.  You have what I want and I am sure you want what I have and only one of us can live in this one-horse town. Many granthis, many knots.

 

So I started taking yoga classes.  After years in the Pilates industry I encountered my first knot.  I thought I should be able to handle this yoga stuff no problem.  In short order I found that I was not going to take over the yoga world overnight (and subsequent experience has confirmed that fact). Now, I understand that skill in one modality does not necessarily transfer smoothly to another.  Skill on the Reformer and Cadillac didn't do so well upon my first encounter with Siddhasana (posture of the completed sage), Trikonasana (three-angled posture) and what the hell was lying flat on my back as though dead going to accomplish (Shavasana or corpse pose)? That was just three of the two dozen postures or so that my first yoga teacher tried to coax me through.  Lots of little granhti's showed up.  Kind of like Gremlins and what happens to them after midnight. My belief breeding. Big knot.

Secondly, the belief system.  My perception of a correct world view was a Judeo-Christian based granthi that viewed all other belief systems as wrong and hell-bound. The world, the flesh and the Devil all engaged in a massive delusion game to keep sinners bound for Hell, their natural destination anyway. Not that I was well settled into the Judeo-Christian worldview (weltanschauung.  Ha, there's a word other than Sanskrit for ya), but what one is raised in and then participates actively in (in spite of evidence to the contrary) is real hard to shake out and,... er,... untie. Coming to grips with what I was taught in the light of teachings from the East (they too have their difficulties) and continued research of my Western roots was a granthi of unparalleled magnitude that is still being loosened to this day.

Staying on track with the idea of perception as hindrance, knowing that one is probably delusional with a whole list of granthis to choose from is a good place to begin.  To say "open" to the beauty or possibilities of your practice is a bit on the disingenuous side of practice because the practice will "crack you open" (Rumi) as soon as you engage with the asana of your choice.  The trick is that entering the practice space to "get" something sets you mountains and rivers away from whatever you intended to "get" in the first place.  In the end there is nothing to get, nothing to receive, nothing to attain or lose. 

Get it?  

The hahn is struck

the bell rings

I pause to take off my shoes

preparation for zazen

the Raven on the roof 

of the Buddha Hall

glances my way and flies

low under ancient oaks

wings flashing darkness and light

his shadow caressing

the canyon floor.