Because I teach ISHTA yoga and the word ISHTA means individual I have been looking at my personal practice over the last few months and really asking on a very deep level “what do I need as an individual?” This month I have been developing more softness in my practice with a sequence that cools me down and quiets my mind. The sun salutations have taken a backseat to hip openers and forward bends and my meditation is also very relaxed. I have been physically bowing down and imagining myself at the lotus feet of an energy beyond my comprehension.
Today after my practice I found myself contemplating the nature of the witness and also reflecting on some writings by Swami Nisreyasananda from his book ‘Supermarket of Ideas.’ I just finished reading a chapter where he talks about the yogic philosophies of Samkhya (dualism) and Vedanta (non-dualism) in relationship to who is watching whom, where do we focus our energy and attention in every day life, and the nature of surrender.
In my understanding we are patchwork quilt of our experiences; karma, dharma, life force, Mother Nature, ego, mind, intellect and wisdom. Our mind, as an aspect of that complexity, engages us with the intensity of the outer world or through focused practices enables us to withdraw deeply into ourselves. Once we turn inwards a force, which we cannot name, witnesses the mind. In Samkhya this witness is called, Purusha.
In Samkhya they say our individual spirits are different. To me this makes sense because how I experience myself witnessing myself has individual attributes and qualities. But then something must also observe my individual consciousness watching itself. In Tantra this higher witness is called ‘Shiva’. Shiva is not just watching me, ‘it’ is watching everyone. Just as a muscle sheath contains thousands of small fibres, with each fibre controlling a different micro movement, so Shiva as consciousness envelops and watches the individual spirits. We can bow down to this force through pure devotion and say, “you are the witness of everyone, you hold the big picture, I surrender my individual consciousness to you and you lead me.”
Perhaps the Ishta Devata (individualised deity) then is the vibration of that individualised spirit. It is the quality of each individual consciousness. If my Ishta for example is Ganesh then perhaps my spirit comes from the perspective of removing obstacles, and everything is seen through that lens. When chanting Ganesh’s mantra I vibrate at the same frequency as my spirit and am pulled like a magnet towards greater consciousness (Shiva), Shiva being the pseudo father of Ganesh and the father of all deities and energies.
From this philosophical viewpoint then being an individual is extremely important and the development of your individuality through creativity, sensuality, enjoyment, and struggle, suffering, emotional, physical and mental challenges creates an interesting vibration that contributes to the whole. This is the anthesis of spiritual philosophies that ask us to remove ourselves from our attachments and our struggles to achieve enlightenment.
The beauty of honouring individuality means that even the approach to resolving tension is a very personal one. For example: You can witness yourself in any given situation and remain detached or you can ‘rage against the machine’ or even practice active surrender to Ishvara, which in the Sutras is called ‘Ishvara pranidhana’. Ishvara is said to be the teacher of teachers living in a timeless realm.
Swami Nisreyasananda describes Ishvara as “a total fund of perfection, of power, wisdom and glory, not increased by disciplines in time nor decreased by failure to discipline in time. Time doesn’t act on it at all. Such a perfect existence being there any teacher can tune himself to it and get at his place a manifestation of glory.”
It is in this seed of perfection that we can find ourselves in spite of our craziness, our fears and our STUFF, a seed waiting to be watered by the pure act of surrendering ourselves to whatever happens in life.
And isn’t that a daily fluctuation? The mind is moving as fast as it can to keep up with the events that occur and we react so often from our patterns and beliefs rather than just being with the moment’s ever-changing expression.
As I experience it, yoga practice is the opportunity to train my spirit to focus its lens on living, and at the same time to merge back with an all-encompassing consciousness, allowing for watching and being watched. When I immerse myself in moments of stillness and surrender, I notice that my reactions are less unconscious and more considered and that the events that come toward me are more joyful and freeing. In fact the events themselves seem to be conspiring towards my happiness. My practice therefore is inspired by my individuality, and I see it as a creative evolution, remaining free and open to what I need in any particular moment.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Bhakti: The Yoga of the Heart
This week’s blog is inspired by my own evolving yoga practice. I have been in a very devotional space of late, surrendering more to my vulnerability and allowing art, music and nature to remind me that everything is LOVE.
The yoga of devotion and love is called Bhakti and is defined by George Feuerstein in his Shambala Encyclopaedia of Yoga as “Loving attachment or devotion” and the practice of Bhakti as “A spiritual practice by which the aspirant seeks to acknowledge his or her dependence on a higher power”. The words “loving attachment” bring to mind the image of a newborn suckling the mother’s breast. Perhaps our constant craving for experiences and things to comfort us is really the longing for that familiar feeling of being held by our mother as a baby. Therefore showing feelings and emotion are a large part of Bhakti. We can’t really know what love is unless we experience it as a feeling in our hearts. Simple things like bringing flowers into the home and lighting candles, surrounding ourselves with objects and images of beauty, taking time to listen to music, to dance and play, are all ways to connect with our feelings.
“Acknowledging dependence on a higher power” brings to mind the last of the Niyamas; Isvara pranidhana, from the eight limbs of Pantanjali’s Ashtanga yoga. In a commentary on the sutras by Swami Venkatesananda he defines Isvara as “Isa, What is.” Whatever is unchanging and everlasting is our definition of a higher power. Pranidhana means dynamic surrender. When we can completely let go and trust that we are that higher power then we can surrender in an active way. In other words rather then giving up and saying “ God” will take care of it – God being the guy on a cloud up there who calls the shots. We say “I am a part of everything and therefore when I surrender I trust that the higher aspect of me guides me.” In yoga terms that means surrendering the jiva atman (individualised self) to the Paramatman (greater self).
Bhakti allows for the expression of love and devotion to a symbol or person who has qualities that we know are there but cannot see or touch. In other words it’s easier to love a child, or our lover, then a concept of what they are. By acknowledging the natural world around us we acknowledge the Shakti (energy or vibration) that animates this world. A flower, a shell and a flame are all physical forms of Shakti.
Every morning I gather flowers from my garden. As I gather the flowers I take in the vibrancy of their colours and their heady scents. Then I enjoy arranging them on the various altars strewn throughout my house. In the living room is the family altar. Here we have a few chosen deities, shells we have been collecting on the beach, and beautiful cards from friends. The flowers are placed amongst the trinkets to be enjoyed as we hang out as a family. I practice asana and meditation in my bedroom, so the altar here has many objects and photos that represent the love my partner and I share and also the joy of practice. I spend a few moments once flowers are arranged listening to some devotional music and lighting incense. Our bedroom is very open to nature and so all around me are the birds, the trees and the open sky. My practice itself is an act of devotion. By lovingly reminding myself to breathe and move I am acknowledging the flow of Shakti through every cell of me. My practice also becomes a prayer for the world. As I open myself up to love I pray that that love radiates out to everyone and everything.
Another aspect of Bhakti is singing the names of the divine in Bhajans (chanting in unison) and Kirtans (call and response). In Hinduism there are as many deities as there are aspects to the self. Bhakti adopts the names of these deities and says that each deity has a seed vibration or Bija mantra, If you chant a mantra to Ganesh ( the remover of obstacles) you become Ganesh and that which removes obstacles. Kirtan and Bhajan by their very nature create an atmosphere of love and harmony. Singing with others is a pleasurable experience. A particularly sweet melody can bring tears to the eyes and joy to the heart. In Bhajans and Kirtans the repetition of sound can invoke trance like states and stimulate something called “the relaxation response.” The relaxation response is a parasympathetic nervous system response, which is evoked when doing a repetitive activity with the intention of letting go of the thoughts of the mind.
I have been chanting mantras for 7 years as part of my yoga practice. My teacher Alan Finger often shares mantras with his students to help release a physical mental or emotional block. The practice of Bhakti inspired me to put these mantras to music and sing them with others. When I chant these mantras in Kirtan I feel my connection with my teacher, my teacher’s teachers, and the great yogis who brought these mantras into being. I also just enjoy the simplicity of the music, the friends around me and the sheer joy of the moment, which ultimately reminds me of the bliss that pervades all things.
When reading the words of some of the beautiful teachers from the ISHTA lineage it’s amazing to me how each Guru defines the practice of Bhakti!
For instance Swami Venkatesananda in his book Total Love shares:
“Bhakti is usually translated as “divine love”, but the word also means division. That is where we start. We start with an idea of division – “ I love you”. In “I love you” there is frustration, disappointment. For instance she loves you for some time and then she doesn’t love you. You are shocked, disappointed, frustrated. Then if by God’s grace you come into contact with a holy man, you transfer all this love onto him – “I love my guru.” Then he plays ducks and drakes. You don’t know where you are from one day to another, but still he doesn’t let you go and this love gets a shake up. You still feel you are different and separate from him. Then gradually he hammers at the self-image that you may have. This thing, which was two, “I love you”, is slowly being smashed, because the guru enables you to realise that love is not love, it's a business transaction. Then it is possible that gently the guru might divert your attention to God. “You must love god with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your might, with all your strength.” In order that you may not cling to him. Still there is an ego sense, which is very strong. The ego sense does not go away by merely wishing, because we are encouraged to maintain this division. God is there and you are here and you sit and worship God. Or you sit down and meditate upon god. Or you sit and visualise god within your heart. God suddenly becomes so small that you can fit him inside your heart. These techniques have been given to us merely as an exercise. To visualise the presence of god in the heart means that you visualise God as the limitless being but it is not usually explained that way. We are asked to see a little god in the heart, about the size of the thumb of a newborn babe, a nice neat little image. But this exercise is not the be all and end all of it that that is what is going to lead you to god realisation. In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna uses a beautiful expression:
Mayy avesya mano ye mam nityayukta upasate
“…enter yourself into me’, Krishna tells us; ‘don’t try to push me into your heart. You are a small creature and I am infinite. Instead of entering God into your heart, enter yourself into God.
When you practice this, bringing yourself closer and closer to that divine presence until it occupies your whole being or until you feel, ‘God you alone exist’, not I, there is no room for a me. With your heart, with your soul, with your entire being you enter into that presence. And then you begin to feel that we are all in this God who pervades everything. Not he in us. We are all in him!”
Kaviyogi Shuddhanda Bharati in his book “The Integral Yoga of Sri Aurobindo” writes:
“Bhakti yoga unites the psychic heart with the Beloved of the soul. Bhakti yoga is emotional. It is the yoga of the heart. The Bhakta wins the divine grace through perfect selfless devotion to the all-beloved, beautiful blissful one. The lover’s love manifests itself severally. The devotee’s heart seeks union with the divine as a child, servant, mother, a father, friend, or a lover wedded to the beloved. Hanuman, Arjuna and Radha are inspiring examples of consecrated love. Sincere devotion is indispensable and Bhakti holds the supreme place among things that liberate the soul. But to seek the self and settle in its meditation is the real devotion. Bhakti is love shaped, it is extreme attachment to the Lord.”
And from Paramahansa Yogananda’s “The Bhagavad Gita” God talks with Arjuna on the chapter on Bhakti he says:
“The path of the worshipper of the Unmanifested Infinite is very difficult because the devotee has no support from the imaging power of his mind. Worship implies an Object of veneration that holds the attention and inspires reverent devotion, a god of manifested qualities. The formless unknown does not serve well this purpose for most mortal minds. He who is born in a world of forms can scarcely attain a true formless conception of spirit. Worship of the indescribable therefore automatically presupposes the actual experience of the infinite. Only those who are already spiritually advanced enough to intuit the ‘formless Christ’ find joy in this relationship with the divine.
The yogi who worships a personal God, on the other hand utilises step-by-step methods of realisation by which he progresses gradually and naturally towards his goal. The natural method for renunciation of lesser pleasures and attachments is to taste the superior joys of the spirit. The worshipper of a personal God finds all around him and within the inner temple of his consciousness constant reminders of the immanence of God, which fills his heart with divine love and joy, without courting the hardships of a renunciant’s life of vigorous ascetism. The Yogi loves God so deeply that gradually all-lesser desires leave him.
It would seem therefore that God likes the personal relationship with the devotee. He makes it easier for the seeker who sees the divine immanence in creation and concentrates on God as the heavenly father or the cosmic mother or the divine friend possessing “human” qualities. Or just as in slumber the unseen formless human consciousness can shape itself into dream images, so the formless spirit as the creator God can inform His consciousness into any manifestation dear to the devotee’s heart. If the devotee’s ISHTA (object of worship) is Krishna for example, the Lord will assume the concept. All such aspects are in no manner a limitation of God to that form, but are rather like windows opening to the Infinite Spirit.”
And this, about Swami Nisreyasanada in a tribute to him by Shirley Roeloffze;
“It seems to me that Swamiji chose to appear to be a Jnani in the way he discoursed on the Gita, the Upanishads and the books by such people as Joel Goldsmith and Alexis Carol. He would always find scientific or technological examples to illustrate the ancient principles of the Upanishads. But underneath that Swamiji was a Bhakta. I had the privilege of hearing him say one day when we were talking about a successor for his work in Africa ‘there is no one else who loves humanity as much’. It was his love for humanity that people responded to wherever in the world Swamiji went. Anyone who was in pain and troubled went to Swamiji and would leave his presence released and confident that the situation would right itself – as it always did. Anyone who had stayed with him for a little while could not bear to leave. It was such a joy to visit him and we would drag ourselves away with difficulty. With very little outward show Swamiji was a centre of love and people could not help, but respond to that”
From Swami Nisreyasananda’s book “Headlines from Swami” (compiled by Mara Sapere) under the section on LOVE;
“To love something it is not necessary to be near it. The sunset is beautiful why don’t I put it in my pocket? It is not necessary to possess it.”
“If you require a return for duties you will also be a beggar for love. Instead see God in everything and everyone and you will become perfect in body and receive love unasked.”
“If I want to be a reformer of other people God will send people into my life who seem crooked or whom I will see that way. Therefore don’t try to reform – adore only.”
Mani Finger on “The Essence of Love”
In Sanskrit, love means “not death” which is the mystical definition of love – being in itself deathless, eternal and the height of rapture and ecstasy. In our modern world because of man’s fear of death, he is constantly on guard against those experiences which in his own darkness and ignorance he regards as hastening him towards his own death.
Man’s whole life therefore becomes nothing other then a tussle with time. All he becomes concerned with is how much longer he has to live without ever considering the actual truth about death. In this fashion the midwife called ‘experience’ presents him with a monster child called ‘fear’. And it is from this monster that man’s suffering for the rest of his life proceeds. He develops hates, likes and dislikes, frustrations, tensions, jealousies, shyness, duty, conscience, anxiety, doubt and a whole battalion of other traumas, all drawing him away from the technique of Love.
Therefore against this, Yoga describes love as non-death.
All happiness depends on the nature and quality of the object on which man projects his love. He absorbs the qualities and characteristics from those objects on which he sheds his love. Thus if he loves dust—such as material thirst, or the sensual, like the body, or the intellectual, being the mind—the substance and realities of his experience will be of the quality of the object he loves, human or otherwise. On the other hand if man focuses his love upon the majesty and beauty of the universe, and develops higher desires, which have no other aim except the satisfaction gained from the joy and appreciation of these objects, he will find the reality of truth. This is the experience of “non-death”
And lastly from my beautiful partner and fellow Bhakta Nyck, written to me on Valentine’s Day 2007;
Beyond words
Love
Beyond concepts
Love
Beyond philosophies
Love
Beyond judgements
Love
Beyond dreams
Love
Even Beyond self
Love
All things fall on bent knees in the worship of
Love
Which then encompasses all things
And expands to fill the world
Photos of Gurus by Alan Finger www.ishtayoga.com
The yoga of devotion and love is called Bhakti and is defined by George Feuerstein in his Shambala Encyclopaedia of Yoga as “Loving attachment or devotion” and the practice of Bhakti as “A spiritual practice by which the aspirant seeks to acknowledge his or her dependence on a higher power”. The words “loving attachment” bring to mind the image of a newborn suckling the mother’s breast. Perhaps our constant craving for experiences and things to comfort us is really the longing for that familiar feeling of being held by our mother as a baby. Therefore showing feelings and emotion are a large part of Bhakti. We can’t really know what love is unless we experience it as a feeling in our hearts. Simple things like bringing flowers into the home and lighting candles, surrounding ourselves with objects and images of beauty, taking time to listen to music, to dance and play, are all ways to connect with our feelings.
“Acknowledging dependence on a higher power” brings to mind the last of the Niyamas; Isvara pranidhana, from the eight limbs of Pantanjali’s Ashtanga yoga. In a commentary on the sutras by Swami Venkatesananda he defines Isvara as “Isa, What is.” Whatever is unchanging and everlasting is our definition of a higher power. Pranidhana means dynamic surrender. When we can completely let go and trust that we are that higher power then we can surrender in an active way. In other words rather then giving up and saying “ God” will take care of it – God being the guy on a cloud up there who calls the shots. We say “I am a part of everything and therefore when I surrender I trust that the higher aspect of me guides me.” In yoga terms that means surrendering the jiva atman (individualised self) to the Paramatman (greater self).
Bhakti allows for the expression of love and devotion to a symbol or person who has qualities that we know are there but cannot see or touch. In other words it’s easier to love a child, or our lover, then a concept of what they are. By acknowledging the natural world around us we acknowledge the Shakti (energy or vibration) that animates this world. A flower, a shell and a flame are all physical forms of Shakti.
Every morning I gather flowers from my garden. As I gather the flowers I take in the vibrancy of their colours and their heady scents. Then I enjoy arranging them on the various altars strewn throughout my house. In the living room is the family altar. Here we have a few chosen deities, shells we have been collecting on the beach, and beautiful cards from friends. The flowers are placed amongst the trinkets to be enjoyed as we hang out as a family. I practice asana and meditation in my bedroom, so the altar here has many objects and photos that represent the love my partner and I share and also the joy of practice. I spend a few moments once flowers are arranged listening to some devotional music and lighting incense. Our bedroom is very open to nature and so all around me are the birds, the trees and the open sky. My practice itself is an act of devotion. By lovingly reminding myself to breathe and move I am acknowledging the flow of Shakti through every cell of me. My practice also becomes a prayer for the world. As I open myself up to love I pray that that love radiates out to everyone and everything.
Another aspect of Bhakti is singing the names of the divine in Bhajans (chanting in unison) and Kirtans (call and response). In Hinduism there are as many deities as there are aspects to the self. Bhakti adopts the names of these deities and says that each deity has a seed vibration or Bija mantra, If you chant a mantra to Ganesh ( the remover of obstacles) you become Ganesh and that which removes obstacles. Kirtan and Bhajan by their very nature create an atmosphere of love and harmony. Singing with others is a pleasurable experience. A particularly sweet melody can bring tears to the eyes and joy to the heart. In Bhajans and Kirtans the repetition of sound can invoke trance like states and stimulate something called “the relaxation response.” The relaxation response is a parasympathetic nervous system response, which is evoked when doing a repetitive activity with the intention of letting go of the thoughts of the mind.
I have been chanting mantras for 7 years as part of my yoga practice. My teacher Alan Finger often shares mantras with his students to help release a physical mental or emotional block. The practice of Bhakti inspired me to put these mantras to music and sing them with others. When I chant these mantras in Kirtan I feel my connection with my teacher, my teacher’s teachers, and the great yogis who brought these mantras into being. I also just enjoy the simplicity of the music, the friends around me and the sheer joy of the moment, which ultimately reminds me of the bliss that pervades all things.
When reading the words of some of the beautiful teachers from the ISHTA lineage it’s amazing to me how each Guru defines the practice of Bhakti!
For instance Swami Venkatesananda in his book Total Love shares:
“Bhakti is usually translated as “divine love”, but the word also means division. That is where we start. We start with an idea of division – “ I love you”. In “I love you” there is frustration, disappointment. For instance she loves you for some time and then she doesn’t love you. You are shocked, disappointed, frustrated. Then if by God’s grace you come into contact with a holy man, you transfer all this love onto him – “I love my guru.” Then he plays ducks and drakes. You don’t know where you are from one day to another, but still he doesn’t let you go and this love gets a shake up. You still feel you are different and separate from him. Then gradually he hammers at the self-image that you may have. This thing, which was two, “I love you”, is slowly being smashed, because the guru enables you to realise that love is not love, it's a business transaction. Then it is possible that gently the guru might divert your attention to God. “You must love god with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your might, with all your strength.” In order that you may not cling to him. Still there is an ego sense, which is very strong. The ego sense does not go away by merely wishing, because we are encouraged to maintain this division. God is there and you are here and you sit and worship God. Or you sit down and meditate upon god. Or you sit and visualise god within your heart. God suddenly becomes so small that you can fit him inside your heart. These techniques have been given to us merely as an exercise. To visualise the presence of god in the heart means that you visualise God as the limitless being but it is not usually explained that way. We are asked to see a little god in the heart, about the size of the thumb of a newborn babe, a nice neat little image. But this exercise is not the be all and end all of it that that is what is going to lead you to god realisation. In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna uses a beautiful expression:
Mayy avesya mano ye mam nityayukta upasate
“…enter yourself into me’, Krishna tells us; ‘don’t try to push me into your heart. You are a small creature and I am infinite. Instead of entering God into your heart, enter yourself into God.
When you practice this, bringing yourself closer and closer to that divine presence until it occupies your whole being or until you feel, ‘God you alone exist’, not I, there is no room for a me. With your heart, with your soul, with your entire being you enter into that presence. And then you begin to feel that we are all in this God who pervades everything. Not he in us. We are all in him!”
Kaviyogi Shuddhanda Bharati in his book “The Integral Yoga of Sri Aurobindo” writes:
“Bhakti yoga unites the psychic heart with the Beloved of the soul. Bhakti yoga is emotional. It is the yoga of the heart. The Bhakta wins the divine grace through perfect selfless devotion to the all-beloved, beautiful blissful one. The lover’s love manifests itself severally. The devotee’s heart seeks union with the divine as a child, servant, mother, a father, friend, or a lover wedded to the beloved. Hanuman, Arjuna and Radha are inspiring examples of consecrated love. Sincere devotion is indispensable and Bhakti holds the supreme place among things that liberate the soul. But to seek the self and settle in its meditation is the real devotion. Bhakti is love shaped, it is extreme attachment to the Lord.”
And from Paramahansa Yogananda’s “The Bhagavad Gita” God talks with Arjuna on the chapter on Bhakti he says:
“The path of the worshipper of the Unmanifested Infinite is very difficult because the devotee has no support from the imaging power of his mind. Worship implies an Object of veneration that holds the attention and inspires reverent devotion, a god of manifested qualities. The formless unknown does not serve well this purpose for most mortal minds. He who is born in a world of forms can scarcely attain a true formless conception of spirit. Worship of the indescribable therefore automatically presupposes the actual experience of the infinite. Only those who are already spiritually advanced enough to intuit the ‘formless Christ’ find joy in this relationship with the divine.
The yogi who worships a personal God, on the other hand utilises step-by-step methods of realisation by which he progresses gradually and naturally towards his goal. The natural method for renunciation of lesser pleasures and attachments is to taste the superior joys of the spirit. The worshipper of a personal God finds all around him and within the inner temple of his consciousness constant reminders of the immanence of God, which fills his heart with divine love and joy, without courting the hardships of a renunciant’s life of vigorous ascetism. The Yogi loves God so deeply that gradually all-lesser desires leave him.
It would seem therefore that God likes the personal relationship with the devotee. He makes it easier for the seeker who sees the divine immanence in creation and concentrates on God as the heavenly father or the cosmic mother or the divine friend possessing “human” qualities. Or just as in slumber the unseen formless human consciousness can shape itself into dream images, so the formless spirit as the creator God can inform His consciousness into any manifestation dear to the devotee’s heart. If the devotee’s ISHTA (object of worship) is Krishna for example, the Lord will assume the concept. All such aspects are in no manner a limitation of God to that form, but are rather like windows opening to the Infinite Spirit.”
And this, about Swami Nisreyasanada in a tribute to him by Shirley Roeloffze;
“It seems to me that Swamiji chose to appear to be a Jnani in the way he discoursed on the Gita, the Upanishads and the books by such people as Joel Goldsmith and Alexis Carol. He would always find scientific or technological examples to illustrate the ancient principles of the Upanishads. But underneath that Swamiji was a Bhakta. I had the privilege of hearing him say one day when we were talking about a successor for his work in Africa ‘there is no one else who loves humanity as much’. It was his love for humanity that people responded to wherever in the world Swamiji went. Anyone who was in pain and troubled went to Swamiji and would leave his presence released and confident that the situation would right itself – as it always did. Anyone who had stayed with him for a little while could not bear to leave. It was such a joy to visit him and we would drag ourselves away with difficulty. With very little outward show Swamiji was a centre of love and people could not help, but respond to that”
From Swami Nisreyasananda’s book “Headlines from Swami” (compiled by Mara Sapere) under the section on LOVE;
“To love something it is not necessary to be near it. The sunset is beautiful why don’t I put it in my pocket? It is not necessary to possess it.”
“If you require a return for duties you will also be a beggar for love. Instead see God in everything and everyone and you will become perfect in body and receive love unasked.”
“If I want to be a reformer of other people God will send people into my life who seem crooked or whom I will see that way. Therefore don’t try to reform – adore only.”
Mani Finger on “The Essence of Love”
In Sanskrit, love means “not death” which is the mystical definition of love – being in itself deathless, eternal and the height of rapture and ecstasy. In our modern world because of man’s fear of death, he is constantly on guard against those experiences which in his own darkness and ignorance he regards as hastening him towards his own death.
Man’s whole life therefore becomes nothing other then a tussle with time. All he becomes concerned with is how much longer he has to live without ever considering the actual truth about death. In this fashion the midwife called ‘experience’ presents him with a monster child called ‘fear’. And it is from this monster that man’s suffering for the rest of his life proceeds. He develops hates, likes and dislikes, frustrations, tensions, jealousies, shyness, duty, conscience, anxiety, doubt and a whole battalion of other traumas, all drawing him away from the technique of Love.
Therefore against this, Yoga describes love as non-death.
All happiness depends on the nature and quality of the object on which man projects his love. He absorbs the qualities and characteristics from those objects on which he sheds his love. Thus if he loves dust—such as material thirst, or the sensual, like the body, or the intellectual, being the mind—the substance and realities of his experience will be of the quality of the object he loves, human or otherwise. On the other hand if man focuses his love upon the majesty and beauty of the universe, and develops higher desires, which have no other aim except the satisfaction gained from the joy and appreciation of these objects, he will find the reality of truth. This is the experience of “non-death”
And lastly from my beautiful partner and fellow Bhakta Nyck, written to me on Valentine’s Day 2007;
Beyond words
Love
Beyond concepts
Love
Beyond philosophies
Love
Beyond judgements
Love
Beyond dreams
Love
Even Beyond self
Love
All things fall on bent knees in the worship of
Love
Which then encompasses all things
And expands to fill the world
Photos of Gurus by Alan Finger www.ishtayoga.com
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Yoga and the Brain
What I love about Yoga is that it is a Science. Science is all about experimentation, testing and retesting theories and working with models. When I practice, my yoga mat becomes a laboratory and my mind and body the experiment. This week I am fascinated by the inner workings of the mind and more specifically the brain. I have read several articles this week that state quite convincingly that the brain is the source of all our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual experiences. These articles propose that because everything is in our brain, an outside ‘God’ might not exist. However in my opinion if everything is in our brain and everything we experience comes from there, then how lucky and magnificent are we as humans to have such a palette of creative colour at our disposal. We create the very stars we wish upon in the night sky. To me this is the essence of Tantra, which says that everything we experience is divine. We are one with everything right now and right here; it’s just that we have forgotten this, or are unable to see the whole picture.
My teacher Alan Finger shares in his classes that in daily life we operate from a limited perspective. If we view life from this limited perspective our experiences will be limited. If we learn to look at life from the big picture then everything is radiantly alive and full of joy and possibility. Yogic Science gives us methods and models for seeing the big picture while giving us practical tools to help us to expand our limited view. What’s really cool is that modern Science is discovering what the yogis have been telling us all along – that the mystery of us is not so mysterious after all. The answer is in our brains if we care to look.
One fascinating article entitled ‘Tracing the Synapses of Spirituality’ By Shankar Vedantam, a Washington Post Staff Writer, asks; “What creates that transcendental feeling of being one with the universe? It could be the decreased activity in the brain's parietal lobe, which helps regulate the sense of self and physical orientation, research suggests. How does religion prompt divine feelings of love and compassion? Possibly because of changes in the frontal lobe, caused by heightened concentration during meditation. Why do many people have a profound sense that religion has changed their lives? Perhaps because spiritual practices activate the temporal lobe, which weights experiences with personal significance.”
This prompts me to reflect on my understanding of yoga philosophy and the theory that everything is Brahman – Divine intelligence. Out of that intelligence there is a split, which we call Shiva and Shakti (Shiva being consciousness and Shakti being energy). Science suggests that we have Brahman in the brain and that our left and right brains gives us the sense of duality. What we don't know is how we go from the experience of being one to the experience of being two.
In yoga we say that Maya (illusion) enables us to experience the one as two. The word Maya literally means ‘to measure out’. We create a sense of distance between things so that we can see ourselves as separate from them. Out of this sense of separation comes the illusion of time and space which leads to the need for memory so we can see things as having a past, present and future. This then gives us the sense that we are born and that we die. But why does all this happen in the first place? What drives the split?
In yoga we call it Iccha Shakti (pure desire). As human beings, desire moves us to change and grow and learn. Desire is manifested in our inherent nature. As babies we desire the nipple for sustenance, and our desire grows to include desire for relationships, creative expression, love, truth and the longing to know who we are. This journey of desire manifests in an individual and is determined by the specific make up of their brain. Our DNA is uniquely encoded and influenced by the brains of others. Science and Yoga suggests that our set patterns can be changed, by altering our own chemistry through certain practices and experiences. The yogis used words like Karma to describe our set genetic coding and dharma to describe the experience of interacting with other brains in a controlled environment of our own making. The dance of the two in Tantra is called Lila.
And what am I trying to say here anyway? If it’s all in my brain and I am the creator of my universe and I have everything I need at my disposal, why practice at all? For me it's the desire to remember on a daily basis who I am, and simply for the sheer joy of experimentation.
Read on if your brain wants some fascinating food!!
The Brain and Meditation
In an article by Adithya K. on “The Brain and Meditation” he states that:
“The brain is essential to human life, and when the brain dies, the entire physical body dies with it. Even in deep sleep the brain is active and aware, and able to direct functions as and when necessary. For example, the brain may create a fearful dream to wake you up if your body is threatened by danger, such as a lack of oxygen due to a difficulty in breathing. The central function of the human brain is awareness. Awareness is required to know things like boundaries, size, limits, identifications, and the sense of self and the sense of the other. Awareness itself has no intrinsic size, boundary limits, or any other attributes of its own. Awareness is required to know all attributes, but awareness itself can be nothing but just plain awareness. That is the pure awareness of meditation.
The sense of time, the beginning and the end, the birth and the death, requires memory. Awareness always precedes memory. Awareness serves as the background and base for memory, but memory cannot have any trace of the beginning or end of awareness. This makes awareness feel eternal no matter what the reality.
We experience everything in our brain: sound, vision, smell, taste, touch, temperature, pleasure, pain, reason, and emotion. Everything we feel and see are signals presented inside the brain, from neuron to neuron, in a web of billions of brain cells. When you look at images of distant stars and galaxies, those pictures are formed inside us, not outside of us. When you realign your focus on the background of consciousness during meditation, you clearly see that all outside images are really inside images.
Scientists now understand through functional magnetic resonance imaging scans (fMRI scans) that the part of the brain, which gives us, a sense of location in time and space is less active during intense meditation. With no sense of location, consciousness loses its boundaries and subjectively feels infinite and timeless. The body may seem to completely disappear, leaving only pure consciousness in its place. That is death of the 'I.' During deep dreamless sleep, the same dissolution of the 'I' happens, but there is no consciousness to experience it.
The feeling of clutter we often feel inside ourselves is the brain working too hard, thinking too many thoughts. The pragmatic working brain requires concentration on the utilitarian tasks of life. In meditation, peace and relaxation rule, and the brain doing nothing expands its sense of being into the whole universe. Only the core, essential life saving functions of the brain continue during the deepest meditation.
Stress is the brain’s attempt to drive the body from one situation to another desired situation through the pathway of time. Thus, if you end desire, the acceptance of *what is* brings an end to stress and creates the sensation of eternal timelessness. When the brain uproots its self-created need to do work, there is total relaxation and peace. Finally, the brain is at ease and resting in its essential being.
The sensation *I am body* is itself an effort of the brain. Brain is our intimate personal reality, not the body. The brain is able to conjure up the idea of the body by repeated practice and focus. The brain can easily convince itself of being anything it wants. After all, there is no one else inside you to question it. The brain is the one that says “I am this!,” as well as being the final arbitrator of its own validity.
Some may focus on a flower and convince themselves that they have experienced "flower consciousness." Others go further and convince themselves that they are a great saviour, saint, or a heroic world leader. Given enough focus and practice, the brain can convince itself of anything, because the brain is the final judge and jury of our perception of reality. Thus, we all live in different brain worlds of our own creation. When those brain worlds collide, conflict and wars arise.
The feeling of solidity of the body is generated by the brain constantly sending and receiving signals to and from different organs. The more frequent and stronger the signals, the more solid the body feels. Mediation is a way to relax the brain and quiet down its constant communication with the body and reduce the frequency of thoughts. As the brain relaxes and creates less activity and noise, the feeling *I am the body* starts to dissolve.”
Is our Wiring is Predetermined?
The following article suggests that the brain determines who we are and how we behave and that our upbringing and experiences are like layers on a pre -existing cake. In yoga we would call this the play of our karma- the seeds or tendencies that have been planted in us with our dharma- the events that are destined to come towards us for us to work out our karma
Is Chemistry Destiny?
(Article in the International Herald Tribune, 19.09.2007, by David Brooks)
Louanne Brizendine is a neuropsychiatrist and the founder of the Women’s and Teen Girls’ Mood and Hormone Clinic in San Francisco. She has written a breezy – maybe too breezy – summary of hundreds of studies on the neurological differences between men and women: ‘The Female Brain’.
All human beings, she writes, start out with a brain that looks female. But around the 8th week in the womb, testosterone surges through male brains, killing cells in some regions (communications) and growing cells in others (sex and aggression).
By the time they are 3 months old, girls are, on average, much better at making eye contact with other people and picking up information from faces. During play, girls look back at their mothers, on average, 10 to 20 times more than boys, to check for emotional signals. Girls can also, on average, hear a broader range of sounds in the human voice, and can better discern changes in tone.
Later, girls are much more likely to use sentences that begin with “let’s” while playing: Let’s do this or Let’s do that. They are more likely to take turns. Brizendine argues that of course culture and environment powerfully shape behaviour, but brain structure and chemistry incline girls to pursue certain goals: “To forge connections, to create community, and to organize and orchestrate a girl’s world so that she’s at the centre of it.”
During adolescence, the female brain is washed in estrogen. Female teenagers, in general, experience an intense desire for social connection, which releases near-orgasmic rushes of oxytocin in the brain. They are, on average, more sensitive to stress (by age 15, girls are twice as likely to suffer from depression). The male brain, meanwhile, is producing 10 times more testosterone then the female brain, meaning the male sex drive is, on average, much greater.
Brizendine then destribes waves of hormonal activity as women age. Female brains vary with the seasons of life much more than male brains. During menopause, for example, estrogen levels drop. Personalities can change as some women derive less pleasure from nurturing and more from independence. Women initiate 65 percent of divorces after age 50.
These sorts of sex differences were once highly controversial, and not fit for polite conversation. And some feminists still argue that talking about biological differences between the sexes is akin to talking about biological differences between the races. But Brizandine’s feminist bona fide are unquestionable. And in my mostly liberal urban circle – and among this book’s reviewers – almost everybody takes big biological differences as a matter of course.
Without too much debate or even awareness, there has been a gigantic shift in how people think human behaviour is formed.
Consider all the theories put forward to explain personality. Freud argued that early family experiences relating to defecation and genital stimulation created unconscious states that influenced behaviour through life. In the 1950s, the common view was that humans begin as nearly blank slates and that behaviour is learned through stimulus and response. Over the ages, thinkers have argued that humans are divided between passion and reason, or between the angelic and the demonic.
But now the prevailing view is that brain patterns were established during the millenniums when humans were hunters and gatherers, and we live with the consequences. Now, it is generally believed, our behaviour is powerfully influenced by genes and hormones. Our temperaments are shaped by whether we happened to be born with the right mix of chemicals.
Consciousness has come to be seen as this relatively weak driver, riding atop an organ, the brain, it scarcely understands. When we read that males voles (a small rodent) with longer vasopressin genes are more likely to remain monogamous, it seems plausible that so fundamental a quality could be tied to some discrete bit of biology.
This shift in how we see human behaviour is bound to have huge effects. Freudianism encouraged people to think about destroying inhibitions. This new understanding both validates ancient stereotypes about the sexes, and fuzzes up moral judgments about human responsibility (biology inclines individuals toward certain virtues and vices).
Once radicals dreamed of new ways of living, but now happiness seems to consist of living in harmony with the patterns that nature and evolution laid down long, long ago.
Our brains are designed to be social !
The following excerpt is by Daniel Coleman from his book “Social Intelligence” In it he shares that what we think and feel affects those around us and that social interaction keeps our brains young. After reading this I understood why meditating and learning together brings about such profound transformations.
Our brains are designed to be social, says bestselling science writer
Daniel Goleman—and they catch emotions the same way we catch colds
Have you ever wondered why a stranger’s smile can transform your entire day? Why your eyes mist up when you see someone crying, and the sight of a yawn can leave you exhausted? Daniel Goleman, Ph.D., has wondered, too
For the first time in history, thanks to recent breakthroughs in neuroscience, experts are able to observe brain activity while we’re in the act of feeling—and their findings have been astonishing. Once believed to be lumps of lonely grey matter cogitating between our
ears, our brains turn out to be more like inter looped, Wi-Fi octopi with invisible tentacles slithering in all directions, at every moment, constantly picking up messages we’re not aware of and prompting reactions—including illnesses—in ways never before understood.
“The brain itself is social—that’s the most exciting finding,” Goleman explains during lunch at a restaurant near his home in Massachusetts. “One person’s inner state affects and drives the other person. We’re forming brain-to-brain bridges—a two-way
traffic system—all the time. We actually catch each other’s emotions like a cold.”
The more important the relationship, the more potent such “contagion” will be. A stranger’s putdown may roll off your back, while the same zinger from your boss is devastating. “If we’re in toxic relationships with people who are constantly putting
us down, this has actual physical consequences,” Goleman says. Stress produces a harmful chemical called cortisol, which interferes with certain immune cell functions. Positive interactions prompt the body to secrete oxytocin (the same chemical released during lovemaking), boosting the immune system and decreasing stress
hormones. As a doting grandparent himself (with author-therapist wife Tara Bennett-Goleman), the author often feels this felicitous rush. “I was just with my two-year-old granddaughter,” he says. “This girl is like a vitamin for me. Being with her actually feels like a kind of elixir. The most important people in our lives can be our biological allies.”
The notion of relationships as pharmaceutical is a new concept. “My mother is 96,” Goleman goes on. “She was a professor of sociology whose husband—my father—died many years ago, leaving her with a big house. After retiring at 65, she decided to let graduate students live there for free. She’s since had a long succession of housemates. When she was 90, a couple from Taiwan had a baby while they were living there. The child regarded her as Grandma and lived there till the age of two. During that time, I swore I could see my mother getting younger. It was stunning.” But not, he adds,
completely surprising. “This was the living arrangement we were designed for remember? For most of human history there were extended families where the elderly lived in the same household as the babies. Many older people have the time and nurturing energy that kids crave— and vice versa. If I were designing assisted-living facilities, I’d
put daycare centers in them and allow residents to volunteer. Institutions are cheating children,” he says. “And we older people need it, too.”
Positive interactions can boost the immune system. Young or old, people can affect our personalities. Though each of us has a distinctive temperament and a “set point of happiness” modulating our general mood, science has now confirmed that these
tendencies are not locked in. Anger-prone people, for example, can “infect” themselves with calmness by spending time with mellower individuals, absorbing less-aggressive behavior and thereby sharpening social intelligence.
A key to understanding this process is something called mirror neurons: “neurons whose only job is to recognize a smile and make you smile in return,” says Goleman (the same goes for frowning another reactions). This is why, when you’re smiling, the whole world
does indeed seem to smile with you. It also explains the Michelangelo phenomenon, in which long-term partners come to resemble each other through facial-muscle mimicry and “empathic resonance.” If you’ve ever seen a group with a case of the giggles, you’ve
witnessed mirror neurons at play. Such mirroring takes place in the realm of ideas, too, which is why sweeping cultural ideals and prejudices can spread through populations with viral speed.
This phenomenon gets to the heart of why social intelligence matters most: its impact on suffering and creating a less crazy world. It is critical, Goleman believes, that we stop treating people as objects or as functionaries who are there to give us something. This can
range from barking at telephone operators to the sort of old-shoe treatment that long-term partners often use in relating to each other (talking at, rather than to, each other). We need, he says, a richer human connection.
Unfortunately, what he calls the “inexorable technocreep” of contemporary culture threatens such meaningful connection. Presciently remarking on the TV set in 1963, poet T.S. Eliot noted that this techno-shredder of the social fabric “permits millions of
people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.” We can only imagine what the dour writer would have made of Internet dating. And as Goleman points out, this “constant digital connectivity” can deaden us to the people around us. Social intelligence, he says, means putting down your BlackBerry, actually paying full attention—showing people that they’re being experienced—which is basically what each of us wants more than anything. Scientists agree that such connection—or lack of it—will
determine our survival as a species: “Empathy,” writes Goleman, “is the prime inhibitor of human cruelty.”
And our social brains are wired for kindness, despite the gore you may see on the nightly news. “It’s an aberration to be cruel,” says Goleman. Primitive tribes learned that strength lay in numbers, and that their chances of surviving a brutal environment increased
exponentially through helping their neighbors (as opposed to, say, chopping their heads off). Even young children are wired for compassion. One study in Goleman’s book found that infants cry when they see or hear another baby crying, but rarely when they hear
recordings of their own distress. In another study, monkeys starved themselves after realizing that when they took food, a shock was delivered to their cage mate.
Perhaps the most inspiring piece of the social-intelligence puzzle is neuroplasticity: the discovery that our brains never stop evolving. “Stem cells manufacture 10,000 brain cells every day till youdie,” says Goleman. “Social interaction helps neurogenesis. The
brain rises to the occasion the more you challenge it.
Tracing the Synapses of Spirituality
A look at the nature of religion and spirituality and its origins in our brain!
By Shankar Vedantam, Washington Post Staff Writer
June 17th, 2001 — In Philadelphia, a researcher discovers areas of the brain that are activated during meditation. At two other universities in San Diego and North Carolina, doctors study how epilepsy and certain hallucinogenic drugs can produce religious epiphanies. And in Canada, a neuroscientist fits people with magnetized helmets that produce "spiritual" experiences for the secular.
The work is part of a broad new effort by scientists around the world to better understand religious experiences, measure them, and even reproduce them. Using powerful brain imaging technology, researchers are exploring what mystics call nirvana, and what Christians describe as a state of grace. Scientists are asking whether spirituality can be explained in terms of neural networks, neurotransmitters and brain chemistry.
What creates that transcendental feeling of being one with the universe? It could be the decreased activity in the brain's parietal lobe, which helps regulate the sense of self and physical orientation, research suggests. How does religion prompt divine feelings of love and compassion? Possibly because of changes in the frontal lobe, caused by heightened concentration during meditation. Why do many people have a profound sense that religion has changed their lives? Perhaps because spiritual practices activate the temporal lobe, which weights experiences with personal significance.
"The brain is set up in such a way as to have spiritual experiences and religious experiences," said Andrew Newberg, a Philadelphia scientist who authored the book "Why God Won't Go Away." "Unless there is a fundamental change in the brain, religion and spirituality will be here for a very long time. The brain is predisposed to having those experiences and that is why so many people believe in God."
The research may represent the bravest frontier of brain research. But depending on your religious beliefs, it may also be the last straw. For while Newberg and other scientists say they are trying to bridge the gap between science and religion, many believers are offended by the notion that God is a creation of the human brain, rather than the other way around.
"It reinforces atheistic assumptions and makes religion appear useless," said Nancey Murphy, a professor of Christian philosophy at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California. "If you can explain religious experience purely as a brain phenomenon, you don't need the assumption of the existence of God."
Some scientists readily say the research proves there is no such thing as God. But many others argue that they are religious themselves, and that they are simply trying to understand how our minds produce a sense of spirituality.
Newberg, who was catapulted to center stage of the neuroscience-religion debate by his book and some recent experiments he conducted at the University of Pennsylvania with co-researcher Eugene D'Aquili, says he has a sense of his own spirituality, though he declined to say whether he believed in God because any answer would prompt people to question his agenda. "I'm really not trying to use science to prove that God exists or disprove God exists," he said.
Newberg's experiment consisted of taking brain scans of Tibetan Buddhist meditators as they sat immersed in contemplation. After giving them time to sink into a deep meditative trance, he injected them with a radioactive dye. Patterns of the dye's residues in the brain were later converted into images.
Newberg found that certain areas of the brain were altered during deep meditation. Predictably, these included areas in the front of the brain that are involved in concentration. But Newberg also found decreased activity in the parietal lobe, one of the parts of the brain that helps orient a person in three-dimensional space.
"When people have spiritual experiences they feel they become one with the universe and lose their sense of self," he said. "We think that may be because of what is happening in that area – if you block that area you lose that boundary between the self and the rest of the world. In doing so you ultimately wind up in a universal state."
Across the country, at the University of California in San Diego, other neuroscientists are studying why religious experiences seem to accompany epileptic seizures in some patients. At Duke University, psychiatrist Roy Mathew is studying hallucinogenic drugs that can produce mystical experiences and have long been used in certain religious traditions.
Could the flash of wisdom that came over Siddhartha Gautama – the Buddha – have been nothing more than his parietal lobe quieting down? Could the voices that Moses and Mohammed heard on remote mountain tops have been just a bunch of firing neurons – an illusion? Could Jesus's conversations with God have been a mental delusion?
Newberg won't go so far, but other proponents of the new brain science do. Michael Persinger, a professor of neuroscience at Laurentian University in Sudbury, Ontario, has been conducting experiments that fit a set of magnets to a helmet-like device. Persinger runs what amounts to a weak electromagnetic signal around the skulls of volunteers.
Four in five people, he said, report a "mystical experience, the feeling that there is a sentient being or entity standing behind or near" them. Some weep, some feel God has touched them, others become frightened and talk of demons and evil spirits.
"That's in the laboratory," said Persinger. "They know they are in the laboratory. Can you imagine what would happen if that happened late at night in a pew or mosque or synagogue?"
His research, said Persinger, showed that "religion is a property of the brain, only the brain and has little to do with what's out there."
Those who believe the new science disproves the existence of God say they are holding up a mirror to society about the destructive power of religion. They say that religious wars, fanaticism and intolerance spring from dogmatic beliefs that particular gods and faiths are unique, rather than facets of universal brain chemistry.
"It's irrational and dangerous when you see how religiosity affects us," said Matthew Alper, author of "The God Part of the Brain," a book about the neuroscience of belief. "During times of prosperity, we are contented. During times of depression, we go to war. When there isn't enough food to go around, we break into our spiritual tribes and use our gods as justification to kill one another."
While Persinger and Alper count themselves as atheists, many scientists studying the neurology of belief consider themselves deeply spiritual.
James Austin, a neurologist, began practicing Zen meditation during a visit to Japan. After years of practice, he found himself having to re-evaluate what his professional background had taught him.
"It was decided for me by the experiences I had while meditating," said Austin, author of the book "Zen and the Brain" and now a philosophy scholar at the University of Idaho. "Some of them were quickenings, one was a major internal absorption – an intense hyper-awareness, empty endless space that was blacker than black and soundless and vacant of any sense of my physical bodily self. I felt deep bliss. I realized that nothing in my training or experience had prepared me to help me understand what was going on in my brain. It was a wake-up call for a neurologist."
Austin's spirituality doesn't involve a belief in God – it is more in line with practices associated with some streams of Hinduism and Buddhism. Both emphasize the importance of meditation and its power to make an individual loving and compassionate – most Buddhists are disinterested in whether God exists.
But theologians say such practices don't describe most people's religiousness in either eastern or western traditions.
"When these people talk of religious experience, they are talking of a meditative experience," said John Haught, a professor of theology at Georgetown University. "But religion is more than that. It involves commitments and suffering and struggle – it's not all meditative bliss. It also involves moments when you feel abandoned by God."
"Religion is visiting widows and orphans," he said. "It is symbolism and myth and story and much richer things. They have isolated one small aspect of religious experience and they are identifying that with the whole of religion."
Belief and faith, argue believers, are larger than the sum of their brain parts: "The brain is the hardware through which religion is experienced," said Daniel Batson, a University of Kansas psychologist who studies the effect of religion on people. "To say the brain produces religion is like saying a piano produces music."
At the Fuller Theological Seminary's school of psychology, Warren Brown, a cognitive neuropsychologist, said, "Sitting where I'm sitting and dealing with experts in theology and Christian religious practice, I just look at what these people know about religiousness and think they are not very sophisticated. They are sophisticated neuroscientists, but they are not scholars in the area of what is involved in various forms of religiousness."
At the heart of the critique of the new brain research is what one theologian at St. Louis University called the "nothing-butism" of some scientists – the notion that all phenomena could be understood by reducing them to basic units that could be measured.
"A kiss," said Michael McClymond, "is more than a mutually agreed-upon exchange of saliva, breath and germs."
And finally, say believers, if God existed and created the universe, wouldn't it make sense that he would install machinery in our brains that would make it possible to have mystical experiences?
"Neuroscientists are taking the viewpoints of physicists of the last century that everything is matter," said Mathew, the Duke psychiatrist. "I am open to the possibility that there is more to this than what meets the eye. I don't believe in the omnipotence of science or that we have a foolproof explanation."
My teacher Alan Finger shares in his classes that in daily life we operate from a limited perspective. If we view life from this limited perspective our experiences will be limited. If we learn to look at life from the big picture then everything is radiantly alive and full of joy and possibility. Yogic Science gives us methods and models for seeing the big picture while giving us practical tools to help us to expand our limited view. What’s really cool is that modern Science is discovering what the yogis have been telling us all along – that the mystery of us is not so mysterious after all. The answer is in our brains if we care to look.
One fascinating article entitled ‘Tracing the Synapses of Spirituality’ By Shankar Vedantam, a Washington Post Staff Writer, asks; “What creates that transcendental feeling of being one with the universe? It could be the decreased activity in the brain's parietal lobe, which helps regulate the sense of self and physical orientation, research suggests. How does religion prompt divine feelings of love and compassion? Possibly because of changes in the frontal lobe, caused by heightened concentration during meditation. Why do many people have a profound sense that religion has changed their lives? Perhaps because spiritual practices activate the temporal lobe, which weights experiences with personal significance.”
This prompts me to reflect on my understanding of yoga philosophy and the theory that everything is Brahman – Divine intelligence. Out of that intelligence there is a split, which we call Shiva and Shakti (Shiva being consciousness and Shakti being energy). Science suggests that we have Brahman in the brain and that our left and right brains gives us the sense of duality. What we don't know is how we go from the experience of being one to the experience of being two.
In yoga we say that Maya (illusion) enables us to experience the one as two. The word Maya literally means ‘to measure out’. We create a sense of distance between things so that we can see ourselves as separate from them. Out of this sense of separation comes the illusion of time and space which leads to the need for memory so we can see things as having a past, present and future. This then gives us the sense that we are born and that we die. But why does all this happen in the first place? What drives the split?
In yoga we call it Iccha Shakti (pure desire). As human beings, desire moves us to change and grow and learn. Desire is manifested in our inherent nature. As babies we desire the nipple for sustenance, and our desire grows to include desire for relationships, creative expression, love, truth and the longing to know who we are. This journey of desire manifests in an individual and is determined by the specific make up of their brain. Our DNA is uniquely encoded and influenced by the brains of others. Science and Yoga suggests that our set patterns can be changed, by altering our own chemistry through certain practices and experiences. The yogis used words like Karma to describe our set genetic coding and dharma to describe the experience of interacting with other brains in a controlled environment of our own making. The dance of the two in Tantra is called Lila.
And what am I trying to say here anyway? If it’s all in my brain and I am the creator of my universe and I have everything I need at my disposal, why practice at all? For me it's the desire to remember on a daily basis who I am, and simply for the sheer joy of experimentation.
Read on if your brain wants some fascinating food!!
The Brain and Meditation
In an article by Adithya K. on “The Brain and Meditation” he states that:
“The brain is essential to human life, and when the brain dies, the entire physical body dies with it. Even in deep sleep the brain is active and aware, and able to direct functions as and when necessary. For example, the brain may create a fearful dream to wake you up if your body is threatened by danger, such as a lack of oxygen due to a difficulty in breathing. The central function of the human brain is awareness. Awareness is required to know things like boundaries, size, limits, identifications, and the sense of self and the sense of the other. Awareness itself has no intrinsic size, boundary limits, or any other attributes of its own. Awareness is required to know all attributes, but awareness itself can be nothing but just plain awareness. That is the pure awareness of meditation.
The sense of time, the beginning and the end, the birth and the death, requires memory. Awareness always precedes memory. Awareness serves as the background and base for memory, but memory cannot have any trace of the beginning or end of awareness. This makes awareness feel eternal no matter what the reality.
We experience everything in our brain: sound, vision, smell, taste, touch, temperature, pleasure, pain, reason, and emotion. Everything we feel and see are signals presented inside the brain, from neuron to neuron, in a web of billions of brain cells. When you look at images of distant stars and galaxies, those pictures are formed inside us, not outside of us. When you realign your focus on the background of consciousness during meditation, you clearly see that all outside images are really inside images.
Scientists now understand through functional magnetic resonance imaging scans (fMRI scans) that the part of the brain, which gives us, a sense of location in time and space is less active during intense meditation. With no sense of location, consciousness loses its boundaries and subjectively feels infinite and timeless. The body may seem to completely disappear, leaving only pure consciousness in its place. That is death of the 'I.' During deep dreamless sleep, the same dissolution of the 'I' happens, but there is no consciousness to experience it.
The feeling of clutter we often feel inside ourselves is the brain working too hard, thinking too many thoughts. The pragmatic working brain requires concentration on the utilitarian tasks of life. In meditation, peace and relaxation rule, and the brain doing nothing expands its sense of being into the whole universe. Only the core, essential life saving functions of the brain continue during the deepest meditation.
Stress is the brain’s attempt to drive the body from one situation to another desired situation through the pathway of time. Thus, if you end desire, the acceptance of *what is* brings an end to stress and creates the sensation of eternal timelessness. When the brain uproots its self-created need to do work, there is total relaxation and peace. Finally, the brain is at ease and resting in its essential being.
The sensation *I am body* is itself an effort of the brain. Brain is our intimate personal reality, not the body. The brain is able to conjure up the idea of the body by repeated practice and focus. The brain can easily convince itself of being anything it wants. After all, there is no one else inside you to question it. The brain is the one that says “I am this!,” as well as being the final arbitrator of its own validity.
Some may focus on a flower and convince themselves that they have experienced "flower consciousness." Others go further and convince themselves that they are a great saviour, saint, or a heroic world leader. Given enough focus and practice, the brain can convince itself of anything, because the brain is the final judge and jury of our perception of reality. Thus, we all live in different brain worlds of our own creation. When those brain worlds collide, conflict and wars arise.
The feeling of solidity of the body is generated by the brain constantly sending and receiving signals to and from different organs. The more frequent and stronger the signals, the more solid the body feels. Mediation is a way to relax the brain and quiet down its constant communication with the body and reduce the frequency of thoughts. As the brain relaxes and creates less activity and noise, the feeling *I am the body* starts to dissolve.”
Is our Wiring is Predetermined?
The following article suggests that the brain determines who we are and how we behave and that our upbringing and experiences are like layers on a pre -existing cake. In yoga we would call this the play of our karma- the seeds or tendencies that have been planted in us with our dharma- the events that are destined to come towards us for us to work out our karma
Is Chemistry Destiny?
(Article in the International Herald Tribune, 19.09.2007, by David Brooks)
Louanne Brizendine is a neuropsychiatrist and the founder of the Women’s and Teen Girls’ Mood and Hormone Clinic in San Francisco. She has written a breezy – maybe too breezy – summary of hundreds of studies on the neurological differences between men and women: ‘The Female Brain’.
All human beings, she writes, start out with a brain that looks female. But around the 8th week in the womb, testosterone surges through male brains, killing cells in some regions (communications) and growing cells in others (sex and aggression).
By the time they are 3 months old, girls are, on average, much better at making eye contact with other people and picking up information from faces. During play, girls look back at their mothers, on average, 10 to 20 times more than boys, to check for emotional signals. Girls can also, on average, hear a broader range of sounds in the human voice, and can better discern changes in tone.
Later, girls are much more likely to use sentences that begin with “let’s” while playing: Let’s do this or Let’s do that. They are more likely to take turns. Brizendine argues that of course culture and environment powerfully shape behaviour, but brain structure and chemistry incline girls to pursue certain goals: “To forge connections, to create community, and to organize and orchestrate a girl’s world so that she’s at the centre of it.”
During adolescence, the female brain is washed in estrogen. Female teenagers, in general, experience an intense desire for social connection, which releases near-orgasmic rushes of oxytocin in the brain. They are, on average, more sensitive to stress (by age 15, girls are twice as likely to suffer from depression). The male brain, meanwhile, is producing 10 times more testosterone then the female brain, meaning the male sex drive is, on average, much greater.
Brizendine then destribes waves of hormonal activity as women age. Female brains vary with the seasons of life much more than male brains. During menopause, for example, estrogen levels drop. Personalities can change as some women derive less pleasure from nurturing and more from independence. Women initiate 65 percent of divorces after age 50.
These sorts of sex differences were once highly controversial, and not fit for polite conversation. And some feminists still argue that talking about biological differences between the sexes is akin to talking about biological differences between the races. But Brizandine’s feminist bona fide are unquestionable. And in my mostly liberal urban circle – and among this book’s reviewers – almost everybody takes big biological differences as a matter of course.
Without too much debate or even awareness, there has been a gigantic shift in how people think human behaviour is formed.
Consider all the theories put forward to explain personality. Freud argued that early family experiences relating to defecation and genital stimulation created unconscious states that influenced behaviour through life. In the 1950s, the common view was that humans begin as nearly blank slates and that behaviour is learned through stimulus and response. Over the ages, thinkers have argued that humans are divided between passion and reason, or between the angelic and the demonic.
But now the prevailing view is that brain patterns were established during the millenniums when humans were hunters and gatherers, and we live with the consequences. Now, it is generally believed, our behaviour is powerfully influenced by genes and hormones. Our temperaments are shaped by whether we happened to be born with the right mix of chemicals.
Consciousness has come to be seen as this relatively weak driver, riding atop an organ, the brain, it scarcely understands. When we read that males voles (a small rodent) with longer vasopressin genes are more likely to remain monogamous, it seems plausible that so fundamental a quality could be tied to some discrete bit of biology.
This shift in how we see human behaviour is bound to have huge effects. Freudianism encouraged people to think about destroying inhibitions. This new understanding both validates ancient stereotypes about the sexes, and fuzzes up moral judgments about human responsibility (biology inclines individuals toward certain virtues and vices).
Once radicals dreamed of new ways of living, but now happiness seems to consist of living in harmony with the patterns that nature and evolution laid down long, long ago.
Our brains are designed to be social !
The following excerpt is by Daniel Coleman from his book “Social Intelligence” In it he shares that what we think and feel affects those around us and that social interaction keeps our brains young. After reading this I understood why meditating and learning together brings about such profound transformations.
Our brains are designed to be social, says bestselling science writer
Daniel Goleman—and they catch emotions the same way we catch colds
Have you ever wondered why a stranger’s smile can transform your entire day? Why your eyes mist up when you see someone crying, and the sight of a yawn can leave you exhausted? Daniel Goleman, Ph.D., has wondered, too
For the first time in history, thanks to recent breakthroughs in neuroscience, experts are able to observe brain activity while we’re in the act of feeling—and their findings have been astonishing. Once believed to be lumps of lonely grey matter cogitating between our
ears, our brains turn out to be more like inter looped, Wi-Fi octopi with invisible tentacles slithering in all directions, at every moment, constantly picking up messages we’re not aware of and prompting reactions—including illnesses—in ways never before understood.
“The brain itself is social—that’s the most exciting finding,” Goleman explains during lunch at a restaurant near his home in Massachusetts. “One person’s inner state affects and drives the other person. We’re forming brain-to-brain bridges—a two-way
traffic system—all the time. We actually catch each other’s emotions like a cold.”
The more important the relationship, the more potent such “contagion” will be. A stranger’s putdown may roll off your back, while the same zinger from your boss is devastating. “If we’re in toxic relationships with people who are constantly putting
us down, this has actual physical consequences,” Goleman says. Stress produces a harmful chemical called cortisol, which interferes with certain immune cell functions. Positive interactions prompt the body to secrete oxytocin (the same chemical released during lovemaking), boosting the immune system and decreasing stress
hormones. As a doting grandparent himself (with author-therapist wife Tara Bennett-Goleman), the author often feels this felicitous rush. “I was just with my two-year-old granddaughter,” he says. “This girl is like a vitamin for me. Being with her actually feels like a kind of elixir. The most important people in our lives can be our biological allies.”
The notion of relationships as pharmaceutical is a new concept. “My mother is 96,” Goleman goes on. “She was a professor of sociology whose husband—my father—died many years ago, leaving her with a big house. After retiring at 65, she decided to let graduate students live there for free. She’s since had a long succession of housemates. When she was 90, a couple from Taiwan had a baby while they were living there. The child regarded her as Grandma and lived there till the age of two. During that time, I swore I could see my mother getting younger. It was stunning.” But not, he adds,
completely surprising. “This was the living arrangement we were designed for remember? For most of human history there were extended families where the elderly lived in the same household as the babies. Many older people have the time and nurturing energy that kids crave— and vice versa. If I were designing assisted-living facilities, I’d
put daycare centers in them and allow residents to volunteer. Institutions are cheating children,” he says. “And we older people need it, too.”
Positive interactions can boost the immune system. Young or old, people can affect our personalities. Though each of us has a distinctive temperament and a “set point of happiness” modulating our general mood, science has now confirmed that these
tendencies are not locked in. Anger-prone people, for example, can “infect” themselves with calmness by spending time with mellower individuals, absorbing less-aggressive behavior and thereby sharpening social intelligence.
A key to understanding this process is something called mirror neurons: “neurons whose only job is to recognize a smile and make you smile in return,” says Goleman (the same goes for frowning another reactions). This is why, when you’re smiling, the whole world
does indeed seem to smile with you. It also explains the Michelangelo phenomenon, in which long-term partners come to resemble each other through facial-muscle mimicry and “empathic resonance.” If you’ve ever seen a group with a case of the giggles, you’ve
witnessed mirror neurons at play. Such mirroring takes place in the realm of ideas, too, which is why sweeping cultural ideals and prejudices can spread through populations with viral speed.
This phenomenon gets to the heart of why social intelligence matters most: its impact on suffering and creating a less crazy world. It is critical, Goleman believes, that we stop treating people as objects or as functionaries who are there to give us something. This can
range from barking at telephone operators to the sort of old-shoe treatment that long-term partners often use in relating to each other (talking at, rather than to, each other). We need, he says, a richer human connection.
Unfortunately, what he calls the “inexorable technocreep” of contemporary culture threatens such meaningful connection. Presciently remarking on the TV set in 1963, poet T.S. Eliot noted that this techno-shredder of the social fabric “permits millions of
people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.” We can only imagine what the dour writer would have made of Internet dating. And as Goleman points out, this “constant digital connectivity” can deaden us to the people around us. Social intelligence, he says, means putting down your BlackBerry, actually paying full attention—showing people that they’re being experienced—which is basically what each of us wants more than anything. Scientists agree that such connection—or lack of it—will
determine our survival as a species: “Empathy,” writes Goleman, “is the prime inhibitor of human cruelty.”
And our social brains are wired for kindness, despite the gore you may see on the nightly news. “It’s an aberration to be cruel,” says Goleman. Primitive tribes learned that strength lay in numbers, and that their chances of surviving a brutal environment increased
exponentially through helping their neighbors (as opposed to, say, chopping their heads off). Even young children are wired for compassion. One study in Goleman’s book found that infants cry when they see or hear another baby crying, but rarely when they hear
recordings of their own distress. In another study, monkeys starved themselves after realizing that when they took food, a shock was delivered to their cage mate.
Perhaps the most inspiring piece of the social-intelligence puzzle is neuroplasticity: the discovery that our brains never stop evolving. “Stem cells manufacture 10,000 brain cells every day till youdie,” says Goleman. “Social interaction helps neurogenesis. The
brain rises to the occasion the more you challenge it.
Tracing the Synapses of Spirituality
A look at the nature of religion and spirituality and its origins in our brain!
By Shankar Vedantam, Washington Post Staff Writer
June 17th, 2001 — In Philadelphia, a researcher discovers areas of the brain that are activated during meditation. At two other universities in San Diego and North Carolina, doctors study how epilepsy and certain hallucinogenic drugs can produce religious epiphanies. And in Canada, a neuroscientist fits people with magnetized helmets that produce "spiritual" experiences for the secular.
The work is part of a broad new effort by scientists around the world to better understand religious experiences, measure them, and even reproduce them. Using powerful brain imaging technology, researchers are exploring what mystics call nirvana, and what Christians describe as a state of grace. Scientists are asking whether spirituality can be explained in terms of neural networks, neurotransmitters and brain chemistry.
What creates that transcendental feeling of being one with the universe? It could be the decreased activity in the brain's parietal lobe, which helps regulate the sense of self and physical orientation, research suggests. How does religion prompt divine feelings of love and compassion? Possibly because of changes in the frontal lobe, caused by heightened concentration during meditation. Why do many people have a profound sense that religion has changed their lives? Perhaps because spiritual practices activate the temporal lobe, which weights experiences with personal significance.
"The brain is set up in such a way as to have spiritual experiences and religious experiences," said Andrew Newberg, a Philadelphia scientist who authored the book "Why God Won't Go Away." "Unless there is a fundamental change in the brain, religion and spirituality will be here for a very long time. The brain is predisposed to having those experiences and that is why so many people believe in God."
The research may represent the bravest frontier of brain research. But depending on your religious beliefs, it may also be the last straw. For while Newberg and other scientists say they are trying to bridge the gap between science and religion, many believers are offended by the notion that God is a creation of the human brain, rather than the other way around.
"It reinforces atheistic assumptions and makes religion appear useless," said Nancey Murphy, a professor of Christian philosophy at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California. "If you can explain religious experience purely as a brain phenomenon, you don't need the assumption of the existence of God."
Some scientists readily say the research proves there is no such thing as God. But many others argue that they are religious themselves, and that they are simply trying to understand how our minds produce a sense of spirituality.
Newberg, who was catapulted to center stage of the neuroscience-religion debate by his book and some recent experiments he conducted at the University of Pennsylvania with co-researcher Eugene D'Aquili, says he has a sense of his own spirituality, though he declined to say whether he believed in God because any answer would prompt people to question his agenda. "I'm really not trying to use science to prove that God exists or disprove God exists," he said.
Newberg's experiment consisted of taking brain scans of Tibetan Buddhist meditators as they sat immersed in contemplation. After giving them time to sink into a deep meditative trance, he injected them with a radioactive dye. Patterns of the dye's residues in the brain were later converted into images.
Newberg found that certain areas of the brain were altered during deep meditation. Predictably, these included areas in the front of the brain that are involved in concentration. But Newberg also found decreased activity in the parietal lobe, one of the parts of the brain that helps orient a person in three-dimensional space.
"When people have spiritual experiences they feel they become one with the universe and lose their sense of self," he said. "We think that may be because of what is happening in that area – if you block that area you lose that boundary between the self and the rest of the world. In doing so you ultimately wind up in a universal state."
Across the country, at the University of California in San Diego, other neuroscientists are studying why religious experiences seem to accompany epileptic seizures in some patients. At Duke University, psychiatrist Roy Mathew is studying hallucinogenic drugs that can produce mystical experiences and have long been used in certain religious traditions.
Could the flash of wisdom that came over Siddhartha Gautama – the Buddha – have been nothing more than his parietal lobe quieting down? Could the voices that Moses and Mohammed heard on remote mountain tops have been just a bunch of firing neurons – an illusion? Could Jesus's conversations with God have been a mental delusion?
Newberg won't go so far, but other proponents of the new brain science do. Michael Persinger, a professor of neuroscience at Laurentian University in Sudbury, Ontario, has been conducting experiments that fit a set of magnets to a helmet-like device. Persinger runs what amounts to a weak electromagnetic signal around the skulls of volunteers.
Four in five people, he said, report a "mystical experience, the feeling that there is a sentient being or entity standing behind or near" them. Some weep, some feel God has touched them, others become frightened and talk of demons and evil spirits.
"That's in the laboratory," said Persinger. "They know they are in the laboratory. Can you imagine what would happen if that happened late at night in a pew or mosque or synagogue?"
His research, said Persinger, showed that "religion is a property of the brain, only the brain and has little to do with what's out there."
Those who believe the new science disproves the existence of God say they are holding up a mirror to society about the destructive power of religion. They say that religious wars, fanaticism and intolerance spring from dogmatic beliefs that particular gods and faiths are unique, rather than facets of universal brain chemistry.
"It's irrational and dangerous when you see how religiosity affects us," said Matthew Alper, author of "The God Part of the Brain," a book about the neuroscience of belief. "During times of prosperity, we are contented. During times of depression, we go to war. When there isn't enough food to go around, we break into our spiritual tribes and use our gods as justification to kill one another."
While Persinger and Alper count themselves as atheists, many scientists studying the neurology of belief consider themselves deeply spiritual.
James Austin, a neurologist, began practicing Zen meditation during a visit to Japan. After years of practice, he found himself having to re-evaluate what his professional background had taught him.
"It was decided for me by the experiences I had while meditating," said Austin, author of the book "Zen and the Brain" and now a philosophy scholar at the University of Idaho. "Some of them were quickenings, one was a major internal absorption – an intense hyper-awareness, empty endless space that was blacker than black and soundless and vacant of any sense of my physical bodily self. I felt deep bliss. I realized that nothing in my training or experience had prepared me to help me understand what was going on in my brain. It was a wake-up call for a neurologist."
Austin's spirituality doesn't involve a belief in God – it is more in line with practices associated with some streams of Hinduism and Buddhism. Both emphasize the importance of meditation and its power to make an individual loving and compassionate – most Buddhists are disinterested in whether God exists.
But theologians say such practices don't describe most people's religiousness in either eastern or western traditions.
"When these people talk of religious experience, they are talking of a meditative experience," said John Haught, a professor of theology at Georgetown University. "But religion is more than that. It involves commitments and suffering and struggle – it's not all meditative bliss. It also involves moments when you feel abandoned by God."
"Religion is visiting widows and orphans," he said. "It is symbolism and myth and story and much richer things. They have isolated one small aspect of religious experience and they are identifying that with the whole of religion."
Belief and faith, argue believers, are larger than the sum of their brain parts: "The brain is the hardware through which religion is experienced," said Daniel Batson, a University of Kansas psychologist who studies the effect of religion on people. "To say the brain produces religion is like saying a piano produces music."
At the Fuller Theological Seminary's school of psychology, Warren Brown, a cognitive neuropsychologist, said, "Sitting where I'm sitting and dealing with experts in theology and Christian religious practice, I just look at what these people know about religiousness and think they are not very sophisticated. They are sophisticated neuroscientists, but they are not scholars in the area of what is involved in various forms of religiousness."
At the heart of the critique of the new brain research is what one theologian at St. Louis University called the "nothing-butism" of some scientists – the notion that all phenomena could be understood by reducing them to basic units that could be measured.
"A kiss," said Michael McClymond, "is more than a mutually agreed-upon exchange of saliva, breath and germs."
And finally, say believers, if God existed and created the universe, wouldn't it make sense that he would install machinery in our brains that would make it possible to have mystical experiences?
"Neuroscientists are taking the viewpoints of physicists of the last century that everything is matter," said Mathew, the Duke psychiatrist. "I am open to the possibility that there is more to this than what meets the eye. I don't believe in the omnipotence of science or that we have a foolproof explanation."
Monday, January 29, 2007
Present poem
I am nobody
I have no story
No history
When you speak to me I am the moment
Interesting as itself
My present is your present
And the practice is that
The teacher is that
It does not matter
What has happened
What I thought
Who I thought I was
What I thought happened
All gone
Wiped out by now
Right now
Meditate
Deeply
The waves of now
An ocean of nothing
Its is only a small
cake of desire
that forces me to tell
some story of what has happened
the desire that shaped the world
the desire that flings me like a stone from some
past picture to some future hope
and misses the now
which waits so patiently
to be embraced
by me
Photo by A. Andrew Gonzalez at www.sublimatrix.com
I have no story
No history
When you speak to me I am the moment
Interesting as itself
My present is your present
And the practice is that
The teacher is that
It does not matter
What has happened
What I thought
Who I thought I was
What I thought happened
All gone
Wiped out by now
Right now
Meditate
Deeply
The waves of now
An ocean of nothing
Its is only a small
cake of desire
that forces me to tell
some story of what has happened
the desire that shaped the world
the desire that flings me like a stone from some
past picture to some future hope
and misses the now
which waits so patiently
to be embraced
by me
Photo by A. Andrew Gonzalez at www.sublimatrix.com
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
The Sadhana of Pain and Bliss
They say that to live yoga one combines knowledge and experience, which ultimately leads to higher wisdom. In yoga higher wisdom is called Buddhi. Buddhi is like a light that always shines down on us. It is filled with insight and a deep sense of peace. When we are clear and truly connected to Buddhi then life just flows. When we are stuck in our heads, trying hard to work something out then it is impossible for us to tune to our Buddhi. For me, higher wisdom and truth aren't neccesarily always love and 'ducks and geese', as my teacher Alan Finger puts it. Sometimes we're being shown through a deep life experience how much life hurts and how hard it is to let go of a fixed viewpoint.
For me tapping into states of pain and anger has freed me to understand myself and others more deeply. Today a friend called to talk to me about her anger she was having trouble accepting that she was flying off the handle at little unimportant things. I shared with her that I had been angry all my life and actually enjoyed my anger because it gave me a sense of power. When I am angry its often because I feel out of control and so I act out of control to get control. Makes perfect sense until one starts to have a consistent meditation practice. In meditation we learn to watch our breath and then our thoughts, and then draw deeper to our source through mantra and focused concentration practices. In this state of watching it becomes obvious that when anger begins to arise it is just an emotion or rather a small spark that has not yet wielded its full potential. From the perspective of wisdom the greatest power comes from dousing the flame before it can become a raging fire. But this is the challenge and in the west especially we are asked to beat pillows, cry and scream, and live it out so it is released. Have you ever noticed how expressing anger never seems to release it? When you power up anger it's just like plugging into an electric socket, it just runs 24/7 if you let it.
After nearly a month of living in both anger and pain and expressing it as much as I can, I have come to the end of my rope. All I have to show for all this expression is an exhausted mind and body that longs to rest. The only insight I have had is that it's never ending and that my best course of action has been to turn to the practice I know so well: Observing my emotions as they arise and watching how they fall away just as quickly.
Until recently I really thought I was an expert at self observation but then through a deeply shocking experience I have had to feel things I have been surpressing for most of my adult life, and in that I have discovered incredible states of bliss and freedom. I have realised I can handle a lot more pain in my heart then I thought possible and that I am much stronger and braver then I thought. Now when someone shares a deeply painful experience, I feel that I have true compassion for the situation.
It reminds me of the time that I was pregnant and teaching yoga . I kept sharing with the students how it would feel to give birth and how they could use their practice and their breathing to work through the pain. Then I actually gave birth and felt embarassed at all the things I had said to my students. There is no way you can be prepared for birth, there is no way you can prepare for a sudden shocking loss... noone can prepare you for any experiences you may have as all experiences are so deeply personal. The beautiful thing is that once you do have an experience you can grow from it and it leads you towards wisdom.
In yoga we can get very involved in our meditation experiences. We can see lights and colors and feel energy and see deities and think we have reached some perfect state of union. The reality is that often these states are merely just side effects of practice. True experience occurs when we move to a state of nothingness. Often we cannot share or explain these experiences as our small self (jiva atman) merges with our big self (paramatman) and there is nothing to say...and again these things are what lead us to wisdom in our practice.
In a recent conversation with my teacher Alan Finger about experiences and making them special through words and stories he shared the following "All that is real is the moment, the rest is dreams and words. Everything is Karma at work, so don't let the words make it special, all that is special is riding the wave of Karma, in love with the moment and sharing it with
life."
Heres to riding all the waves, be they painful or blissful...
Om shanti Sundara
For me tapping into states of pain and anger has freed me to understand myself and others more deeply. Today a friend called to talk to me about her anger she was having trouble accepting that she was flying off the handle at little unimportant things. I shared with her that I had been angry all my life and actually enjoyed my anger because it gave me a sense of power. When I am angry its often because I feel out of control and so I act out of control to get control. Makes perfect sense until one starts to have a consistent meditation practice. In meditation we learn to watch our breath and then our thoughts, and then draw deeper to our source through mantra and focused concentration practices. In this state of watching it becomes obvious that when anger begins to arise it is just an emotion or rather a small spark that has not yet wielded its full potential. From the perspective of wisdom the greatest power comes from dousing the flame before it can become a raging fire. But this is the challenge and in the west especially we are asked to beat pillows, cry and scream, and live it out so it is released. Have you ever noticed how expressing anger never seems to release it? When you power up anger it's just like plugging into an electric socket, it just runs 24/7 if you let it.
After nearly a month of living in both anger and pain and expressing it as much as I can, I have come to the end of my rope. All I have to show for all this expression is an exhausted mind and body that longs to rest. The only insight I have had is that it's never ending and that my best course of action has been to turn to the practice I know so well: Observing my emotions as they arise and watching how they fall away just as quickly.
Until recently I really thought I was an expert at self observation but then through a deeply shocking experience I have had to feel things I have been surpressing for most of my adult life, and in that I have discovered incredible states of bliss and freedom. I have realised I can handle a lot more pain in my heart then I thought possible and that I am much stronger and braver then I thought. Now when someone shares a deeply painful experience, I feel that I have true compassion for the situation.
It reminds me of the time that I was pregnant and teaching yoga . I kept sharing with the students how it would feel to give birth and how they could use their practice and their breathing to work through the pain. Then I actually gave birth and felt embarassed at all the things I had said to my students. There is no way you can be prepared for birth, there is no way you can prepare for a sudden shocking loss... noone can prepare you for any experiences you may have as all experiences are so deeply personal. The beautiful thing is that once you do have an experience you can grow from it and it leads you towards wisdom.
In yoga we can get very involved in our meditation experiences. We can see lights and colors and feel energy and see deities and think we have reached some perfect state of union. The reality is that often these states are merely just side effects of practice. True experience occurs when we move to a state of nothingness. Often we cannot share or explain these experiences as our small self (jiva atman) merges with our big self (paramatman) and there is nothing to say...and again these things are what lead us to wisdom in our practice.
In a recent conversation with my teacher Alan Finger about experiences and making them special through words and stories he shared the following "All that is real is the moment, the rest is dreams and words. Everything is Karma at work, so don't let the words make it special, all that is special is riding the wave of Karma, in love with the moment and sharing it with
life."
Heres to riding all the waves, be they painful or blissful...
Om shanti Sundara
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