It was 10:38am on Sunday, April 3rd when I started writing this wrap up, and the New Moon hung invisibly above.
In that Sunday’s classes we wrapped up our March focus on the 1st of the Eight Limbs of Yoga – Yama, or, abstinence. I extended the March focus through April 3rd so the New Moon – at the height of its energy of surrender, letting go and dissolving – could reinforce our liberation from what we might refrain from in our attitudes, our actions, our lives.
During the past month, our classes bravely began a journey of self-examination by way of yoga’s 1st limb. For me, such exploration of patterns and beliefs is a process. I have grown to understand that I might not be transformed within the period of one class, one month or perhaps one lifetime! Each time I step onto the path, I am simply opening a door – maybe even just a little crack – to look inside with curiosity and compassion. Still, this is deep work, and I try to balance intensity with restoration – during my personal efforts and our classes.
In his commentary about Yama (and Limb #2 – Niyama, or observance) in The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, Swami Satchidananda says: “These points are for whole-time, dedicated Yogis; and so, for them, Patanjali allows no excuses. For people who aren’t that one-pointed toward the Yogic goal, these vows can be modified according to their position in life.” So rather than introducing the Sutras’ list of five yogic abstinences (non-harming, truthfulness, non-stealing, continence, non-greed), I invited students to cultivate their own, personal Yama. Toward the end of the month, we considered the official Yama from Patanjali’s ancient guidance.
Along with students, I cultivated my own personal Yama based on my “position in life.” And the position I’ve been playing for most of my life is…
Last week, I squarely faced the huge deficit this role has hollowed out of my heart, soul and life. Ugh.
A number of things. I’ll skip the long story about childhood and other traumas leading to the necessity for self-defense. If you’ve read my past blogs, you know that I am devoted to looking backward in order to move forward with health. You might also remember that just last summer I was blind-sided by a serious betrayal that erased all my trust in humans. My heart was on lock down. In my yoga practice, with professional counsel and through other spiritual practices, I started to open back up. More recently, during the Off the Mat Into the World leadership intensive in early March, I revisited my bruised little heart and noticed that it did not feel so safe after all. It was still in defense mode. Again, I re-committed to the process of looking inside, taking action, sparking transformation.
But the biggest eye-opener happened last week.
I went through a breast cancer scare after a doctor’s examination. Thankfully, at the radiologist appointment a few days later, I found out that I do not have cancer. During those in-between days of fearful anticipation, however, I contacted family and spent a lot of time with friends for support. Knowing me as well as she does, one friend reached out her arms and said, “Put your hands in mine.” I did.
Then she told me, with resolve in her voice, firmness in her stance and steadiness in her eyes, “You are going to be OK. And you will not be alone.”
I felt my entire body seize up in defense mode. My stiffened hands could not hold on. My eyes could barely meet hers. When I did look her in the eye it was through a hard plate of glass. I could hear her words but not feel the sentiment in my heart. I wanted to believe her but could not. I could not trust for fear of being betrayed again. I could not accept her love.
What’s the big deal?
If I don’t allow myself to accept love, I will never feel loved. That’s it in a nutshell. I don’t think I need to go into the specifics of how humans need to share love; how vulnerability is essential to trust-building; how risk-taking might be the only way to true intimacy. The fact is, if I don’t take action to continually and consistently address, transform and heal the core wounds of my heart, I will continually and consistently struggle with every relationship in my life – at work, in family, with friends and otherwise.
Realizing this last week, I set a deep intention that will bring purpose to my Eight-Limb work in the coming months. A Sankalpa. My own personal Yama:
I aim to abstain from fear-based responses to life’s invitations for connecting, trusting and loving. I will liberate my icy-cold, walled-up, scared little Anahata Chakra through heart-opening Asana, heart-expanding Pranayama and Bhakti-influenced practices.
Some wounds are hard to heal. But for the sake of Ahimsa (non-harming – the 1st Yama from the Sutras), I am going to non-harm myself by taking the risk of being vulnerable. No holds barred, I am rolling my shoulders back, breathing deeply and chanting my heart out. I am abstaining and refraining from, letting go of, dissolving, and surrendering fear. Damn-it.
As mentioned in the Intro to this month’s focus, I want to offer my best self in service to the world. That is what Samadhi (yoga’s 8th Limb) means to me – an interconnectedness that dissolves separation, invites love, cultivates trust. So in the end, I don’t want to heal my heart so I feel better – although I’m sure that will be a benefit! In the end, I want to liberate my heart so I can serve others with authenticity, strength and sustainability.
Wishing you peace, joy, love and light. OM Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.