"The Science of Life"

Ayruveda is a Sanskrit word that means "science of life". Having been in existence for over 5,000 years, this ancient healing system of India is immense in scope and application. To call it a "personality test" would be far too limiting and misleading, but there are similarities. In this Vedic science there are three main life forces, as evidenced by the elements: Air, Fire and Earth/Water. Human beings enter life with one dominant of these life forces, or Doshas. The three Doshas, with their corresponding elements are:

VATA - Air, wind, space
PITTA- Fire, bile
KAPHA- Water, Earth, phlegm

There are four factors that determine your dominant Dosha, or life force:

1. Intention during incarnation
2. Temperament of the sperm
3. Temperament of the ovum
4. God's wisdom

Even though we typically have one dominant dosha, it's quite possible that you are more than one dosha. Ultimately, there are seven different combinations of doshas that make up the human race. One dominant dosha, dual-doshas, or tri-doshas. It's important to note that you can't change your dosha. If you're a VATA pining to be a KAPHA, you're missing the essence of Ayruveda. It's not about changing ourselves into the person we'd rather be. It's much more about discovering who we already are, correcting any imbalances, and achieving liberation of mind, body and soul.

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"Can we accept all that it means to be human?"

 

It happens quite frequently that I will be going through my day and encounter some frustration or obstacle when all at once I hear my mother's old adages come into my mind. Lately, I haven't been able to shake one of her oft quoted sayings, that she didn't necessarily coin but one that she certainly believed herself, "We're human beings, not human doings."

It's actually a rather profound concept, all things considered. I have fallen into my default mode of living, which is the default of doing. I make lists and I carry them out. I have an idea of what needs to be accomplished for my day, and I set about accomplishing it. Even on the grand scale of life, I have the somewhat hazy vision of what I want my life to look like in 20 years from now, and so I attempt to accomplish whatever I think needs to happen in order to get there. It's not all bad really, this habit of doing that so drives us as humans. But what's going on internally amidst all this accomplishing?

It seems, from my perspective, that we go about life trying to do everything right. As Rodney Yee, a renowned yogi and guru, puts it, "they're always trying to do their life right."1

As I've been immersing myself in the study and practice of yoga over the last few months I have found this approach to life--the approach of "trying to do my life right"--fails miserably in this area. Well, really it fails us in every area, but yoga is managing to expose the fraudulent life I lead. I have been trying to approach my practice with the attitude of "Just show me how to do it right, and then I'll imitate that." I've been trying to approach the philosophy of yoga with the mindset, "Just spell it all out and I'll memorize the essential facts." All the while, no internal dialogue is happening. I'm doing the poses and my mind is somewhere else. I'm not really asking, "How does this pose feel? Where can this resistance lead me? Where is my breath?"

It's a profound experience for me to be immersed in a particular practice and philosophy that I can't "accomplish". I can't just simply acquire the knowledge and the how-to and then add it to my resume. I mean, I suppose I could do that. I suppose I could just go through the motions of it all and perpetuate this unhealthy trend of living a checked out life and finding my identity in my merits. But I want something more. I want something deeper. I want to fall into yoga. I want to really fall into living. I want to live my life moment to moment. "Yoga teaches you to continue to be present moment by moment by moment."2

I'm tired of running away from life. I spend too much time reminiscing and too much time planning. Instead, I want to live in reality, not the illusion of reality. "People think [yoga] is about stilling the mind. It's not about stilling the mind. It's about following the mind. It's really about deeply following something. What we're doing is we're disciplining the mind so that it can continue to follow the present moment, watching things arise as they arise. Watching thoughts arise as they arise and actually being cognizant of life as it's arising. To really be in it--otherwise you're not living a life. You're living an illusion of a life. You're actually disassociated from what's really going on."3

This is the opportunity I have in beginning my personal yoga practice, to "accept all that it means to be human."4



1. Rodney Yee, Yoga: The Poetry of the Body, p.46
2. p.123
3. p.126-7
4. p.52

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What's your Guna?

In Yoga philosophy you learn of the Three Gunas, or energies, that govern anything happening on the physical plane. Not only are these energies apparent in the actual movement and structure of each Asana, or posture, but they are apparent in the very temperament of how we approach each practice.

The Three Gunas are:

1) Rajas or Rajasic Energy: Forward-Backward Movement

ex: Downward Dog, Right Leg Lunge, Downward Dog, Left Leg Lunge. 

These Asanas inherently feel Rajasic--strong, intentional, willful. Another way of describing the Rajasic Guna is Inward-Outward movement. I can see the inward focus of Downward Dog, with head to the floor and hips to the sky, and then, with incredible strength and purpose, Right Leg Lunge, heart lifted, head and gaze to the sky--inward then outward in a forward-backward way.

2) Tamas or Tamasic Energy: Upward-Downward Movement

ex: Mountain Pose, down to Powerful Pose, down even further into a squat, then up to Powerful Pose again, return to Mountain Pose with hands at Namaste. 

Here the focus becomes deep and inward and simultaneously the head extends while the feet root into the earth. It feels slow, sure, quiet.

3) Sattva or Sattvic Energy: Side to Side Movement

ex: Warrior Two, Half Moon Pose, then Side Angle Pose

This energy movement is full of grace, clarity and balance. To me it almost feels like the perfect center, if the Three Gunas were presented on a scale. Rajas would be far left, Tamas would be far right, and perfectly balanced on the fulcrum would be Sattva.

I imagine that all of these energies drive our actions and affect our temperament day to day. The Gunas are symbiotic, which means you can't have one without the other. But each posture we assume is dominated by one of these three expressions or energies. What Guna are you in right now?

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is it mine?

I've seen that look

     felt that suppressed sob

     cursed that quivering lip

     carried that awful shame

That fear in your eyes, is it mine?

Cowering. 

     Retreating. 

             Hiding.

I heard that. Something just broke inside of you.

     innocence--yes, the monster lurks in your closet

     trust--hang up your cape, no one is going to catch you

     joy--where's your smile now?

Something just broke inside of me, too.

What's your name?

 

"My Name is Asher Lev" is a beautiful, compelling novel. I feel a stronger conviction to be honest about my life, about who I am and about how I need to express that. 

I was captivated with the chapters when Asher lived in Paris and produced his first masterpiece. He knew the first Brooklyn Crucifixion was incomplete, and frankly, a lie. But when he really got in touch with himself he was able to paint the Brooklyn Crucifixion II. And he knew it would devastate his family to see it. And yet, to not paint it, to censor it, to pretend he didn't feel it, would have been death

I experience this daily. I'm not always on the verge of a masterpiece but I am daily trying to navigate my own neurotic mind. There are days that I know something powerful is brewing deep down in my subconscious, but am I brave enough to paint it? Can I see it in full-color? Can I look it in the eye? Most days, no. Most days I'm quite content denying it's even there, and like Asher's mama, content to paint "pretty pictures" of my life. 

I can't be too hard on myself for this tendency to lie, it is the human condition after all. What's beautiful is when we manage to momentarily suspend our "human-ness" and remember that we are spiritual beings with powerful things to say and do.

The weeks and days before Asher's art show he was mourning the effect that his art would inevitably have on his parents. But did that stop him? He was very tempted to take his masterpiece down, but he couldn't do it. The canvas would tell it all, the betrayal, the pain, the blasphemy. But that was his masterpiece. Why should he pretend it was any other way? He couldn't hold back his greatest self-discovery simply because he knew it might hurt people. What courage. Healing is definitely not for the faint-of-heart.

Let's face it, every one of us has some serious issues that we inherited from our childhood and, don't you know it, from our parents. I know of no exception to that statement. I've come to terms with the concept that all parenting, good or bad, is brainwashing. It's indoctrination. And when an adult realizes that they were brainwashed or indoctrinated as a child, well, they're pissed off! And we think to ourselves, "There's no way in Hell I'm going to put my children through what I went through!" So we swing from one end of the pendulum to the next. If religion was crammed down your throat, you become atheist. If atheism was crammed down your throat, you become religious. In truth, it's not always apparent to ourselves that we have swung to the other end of the pendulum. It's not always so black and white as religion versus atheism. It's most of the time very subtle. But it's like we're over correcting an out of control vehicle. We can't seem to think in the moment that we're driving off the cliff, "Now, let's see, if I just slightly turn the wheel a few degrees this way I'll avoid this tremendous and forthcoming accident." We typically think, "Ahhhhh!" and violently turn the wheel the opposite direction as hard as we can. It's natural, really it is. The tragic irony is that as far left or right that we crank the wheel we never stop to notice the car we're driving. That part we inherited from our folks even if the driving skills can be relearned.

I know, I know, it's the whole nature versus nurture argument. In case I've mislead you I'm a staunch believer that it's entirely both. Yes, genetics are a major contributor in shaping who we are. But equally profound is the effect of our surroundings, environments and...well, our agency. So long as we're clear on that point, I'll move forward in wrapping up my thoughts.

If all parenting is indoctrination it's inevitable that a child is indoctrinated with both truths and lies. Children can't be spared every evil of the world, even if their parents are the best to be found. This makes for some messed up adults. Isn't it true that we spend most of our adult-life recovering from our childhoods? No parent ought to be surprised if their child has to temporarily curse them, rebel against them, or as in Asher's case, blaspheme them. And I frankly feel that this is all in harmony with the Christian commandment to "honor thy father and thy mother". To get to the honoring phase we have to first get through the raging, ranting, bleeding, hurting, broken, disgusted, fill-in-the-blank phase. Or better yet, maybe all of those things are honoring them. The greatest way I can think of to honor my parents is to make something of myself. What does it take for me to do that? Asher knew the answer to that question for his own life.

In truth, it wasn't until becoming a mother myself that I finally came to understand this commandment. No, that's not quite true. I can't claim to fully understand it yet, but it was motherhood that inspired me to want to understand this commandment. Could I endure my very own daughter or son turning their back on me? Don't they know that they are my very own flesh and blood? Don't they know that I would willingly die for them? Don't they know what I have given up for them? It was motherhood that forced upon me the thought "Is it possible that my parents love me as much as I love my children?" That's when it dawned. That's when I wanted to explore this concept of what it means to honor my father and mother. I'm sorry to admit that it took my own selfish interests--namely, not wanting to lose my children--in order for me to give my parents a well-deserved second look.

We all have a childhood, some bad, some not so bad, and the few really great ones. But growing up requires you to face up to that childhood somewhere along the way. Asher is a new found hero of mine for doing just that and for honoring his parents in the most necessary way--by turning his back on them.

Little Bird

I've bought into a myth all of my life. I've not only bought into it but I've lived it, worshiped it and cherished it. It's been my identity for as long as I can remember. It's been my protection and armor. If it hadn't been for my belief in this myth I don't think I would have lived to adulthood. When everything else around me was careening out of control, I was in control. I was control.

That right there is the myth, the little voice inside of my head that tells me "I'm in control". Sometimes I hear it phrased like, "If I died, everything would crumble. I'm the glue that keeps the whole world together." In my lower moments the voice is much more sardonic, enraged even, whispering "I have to do everything for myself! I always have to be the strong one! When is it my turn?" Interesting that this voice always speaks in first person, as if it were me (you may not sense my feigned sarcasm there). And to think I trusted this voice! We've all been cautioned since young children that you can't judge a book by its cover, or don't take candy from strangers, but was I taught that you can't trust the voices in your head? I'm not even talking about the schizophrenic type. With that said, maybe I am talking about the schizophrenic type. These are just the day to day thoughts that come and go, ebb and flow, a steady stream of thoughts each and every moment of each and every day. This voice is all I know. It's me. It's the universe. It's God. It's my best and closest and dearest friend. Why should I ever doubt her?

But now I know. She's a liar.

At first I was just angry. If I'm not the one in control, then who is? Who does God think He is? Who ever asked Him to be in control? Who asked for His help? Doesn't He know that He doesn't exist? That's why I created her. That's why her voice is soothing and safe. She reminds me not to hurt. She helps me forget that hollowness when I realize that God doesn't exist and that He certainly doesn't love. Not me. Not anyone. She knew that if I was in control then I would never have to feel rejected or abandoned or alone ever again. Don't hold out hope for someone to fill that chasm. Why reach out to anyone for anything? Depend on yourself and work hard and you'll make your own happiness. How dare He take that comfort away from me? If He wanted to help me why didn't He just prevent all of my childhood shit form happening in the first place? He lied to me. He tricked me into coming here. He abused my innocence. He took my faith for granted. He fed me to the wolves! Who knocks a bird out of its nest just so he can save it?

The fall from my nest was so hard, so painful and so very real. But perhaps I can say this for the experience, it forced open my wings. I'm just a small, helpless baby bird learning to fly, dazed from my fall, enthralled by my flight, terrified by my freedom.

I know this now, that someone has to die. It's either Him or her. I've trusted her all of my life and I can't say the same for Him. He's always been so aloof, so pious, so exalted to me. Whereas she has been my faithful companion, always ready to bolster me up in hard times. He reminds me of a father, and the very word is treacherous. She reminds me of a friend, the trusty and unbiased opinion.

Does nobody else see my conundrum?

The truth is, I've already made my choice. She died the moment I called her "her". Once I started to question her advice the more I grew to distrust it. She's the most successful mole ever to have been planted. She so deeply infiltrated my identity that to pull her out of me nearly cost my sanity, and my life. I mourn you dear, loyal, though mistaken friend. I put you on the altar as my own Isaac, flesh of my flesh. We walked a long road together you and I, but I can't walk any further with you by my side, with you always whispering in my ear, with you hiding God from me. I've seen Him now and you're too late. I've felt Him now and you're not what you pretend to be. I trust Him now...and I am free.

Enjoy the swim

 Last night I came upon "The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success" by Deepak Chopra. Do you ever find yourself completely swimming in an idea or concept--you're staying afloat but you're certainly not on solid ground, but you're willing to be wet? Spend any amount of time reading poetry, philosophy, religious canon, or in this particular case, Chopra's works and you'll soon have the experience if you haven't already. Just dip your toe into the water by reading my own take on several of these spiritual laws:

• Imagine that you're holding a small pebble in your hand that represents an intention you would hope to see manifested in your life. You throw your pebble out into the pond that is the universe but the water is choppy. In fact every thought you have stirs the water more and more so that when your pebble hits the water its ripples are soon broken and scattered....and so is your intention. But if you can clear your mind, if you can embrace the gap between thoughts until the gap grows wider and wider and smoother and smoother until suddenly it's a magnificently calm pond. Now is your moment. Cast your pebble out into the water and watch the message be sent. Outward and outward, bigger and bigger. Soon an intention is manifested, it's realized.

• Affluence comes from the root word "affluere" which means "to flow to". One aspect of affluence is measured in terms of money. Even money has interesting roots--consider the word "currency". Money is meant to be constantly flowing in and out of our lives and the moment you try to stop that flow, to hoard it, you've cut off the flow of money coming INTO your life, not just out of it. In fact, consider the effects to your body if you cut off your blood flow? The moment blood stops flowing it begins to coagulate and oxygen can't be delivered to your vital organs. It means death. The message is simple, if you desire love, give love. If you desire money, give money. If you desire joy, give joy.

This last one is my favorite.

• There is a concept of "do less and accomplish more" in the Vedic Science. You see this spiritual law most perfectly practiced in nature. Grass doesn't try to grow, it just grows. Fish don't try to swim, they just swim. Flowers don't try to bloom, they bloom. The earth doesn't try to spin on its own axis, it just spins. This is their inherent nature. What is the inherent nature of humankind? To make our dreams manifest into physical form, easily and effortlessly. We're creators. I once read a profound thought by Orson F. Whitney that has forever changed my understanding of how faith begets miracles. We have oft heard the Christian scripture quoted about having the "faith as a grain of mustard seed". Most explanations of this scripture point out that since mustard seeds are tiny and yet grow into tall and beautiful trees that so it goes with man's faith. It may be as small as a mustard seed but it will grow into a tree! This isn't a wrong interpretation by any means. But consider that the seed in and of itself is the representation of perfect faith, not so much the tree, the finished product. When that mustard seed is planted in the earth, it knows its inherent nature and easily and effortlessly sets about fulfilling it. The seed grows and expands and pushes the dirt aside in order for its roots to lengthen. In fact, the roots are so capable of manifesting their true nature that they will rend the very rocks that stand in their way in order for life to spring upward and outward. Have you ever seen trees that have done this, that have broken through the concrete or pavement? In a a very literal sense the faith of a mustard seed is sufficient enough to move mountains! Easily and effortlessly! It knows how to "do less and accomplish more". It's not necessarily the size of the mustard seed that Christ wants us to reflect on but the perfect obedience of one of the least of His creations. If a seed can obey Him, what's our excuse? Whitney muses, "If man were as perfect, as obedient to law, in his sphere, as the trees and plants are in theirs, where would be the limit of his power?"

Enjoying the swim?

Life of Pi musings

It's not every day a book leaves me utterly spellbound. Despite the fact that my particular edition of this book read "A Novel, by Yann Martel" I couldn't right away accept the fact that this was a fictional story. What does it say for a work of fiction if the whole time you find yourself wishing it were true? Wouldn't that somehow make the story that much more amazing? I literally stopped mid chapter and checked the front and back covers repeatedly searching for the words "based on a true story". Nowhere to be seen. This must have been part of Mr. Martel's plans all along. I felt like the skeptical Japanese man in the Mexican hospital interviewing Pi demanding that he "tell the truth" this time, "tell what really happened". Was it real? Was it not real? Interestingly enough, it doesn't matter. It's not about real and not real, it's about choosing the better story. What a beautiful way to conclude such an epic tale by letting us choose for ourselves which was the better story. Then to realize that this choice embodies our very faith and perspective of life and God! What a philosophical thrill!

That's the first layer. This was a masterfully weaved allegory. In truth, one of very few allegories I've been able to pallet. I can't bear the in-your-face moralizing of most allegorical works where everything is so spelled out there's no room left for interpretation and revelation, and let's be honest here, confusion. I've been so confused at certain junctures in this book that I have no doubt a second or third reading is necessary before I will feel "full of it". I once heard someone refer to our mortal experience as a lifeboat, saying that all of us were just doing our best to stay afloat and find our way to the shore. How clear this analogy became when reading this book and watching the film interpretation. Suddenly the absurd image of the orangutan, hyena, zebra, tiger and Indian boy all aboard the same lifeboat took on a much more profound significance. Watching each animal slowly get picked off in the natural survival of the fittest was an all too true representation of how life can be. And yet, just when you think you know who the fittest is, Pi pulls out his whistle and circus act and marks his territory. He will not be picked off! It's not until Pi reflects, weeks into his journey, that it was only because of Richard Parker that he was still alive. It was his fear of him that forced him to carry on each day. Don't we all have a Richard Parker in our lives? Don't we all have an amazing amount of insurmountable opposition that threatens to pick us off? Or if not to be picked off then to train the beast. Pi trained his fear. He controlled it, and he tamed it. Well...almost tamed it. Because we all know Richard Parker didn't look back once they reached the jungle. He was still wild, and it broke Pi's heart to admit it.

And that's where I am now, pondering this third and even more opaque layer. Maybe all those animals aren't characters in the real world at all, but maybe just different parts of ourselves. What is it that Pi was really grieving when Richard Parker walked away from him without a single glance back? No acknowledgement of what they had been through together. No parting look of goodbye or thank you. No closure. What part of him does Richard Parker represent? The hyena? The zebra? The orangutan?

There are too many hanging questions in that paragraph above, but it helps me process my thoughts. I love this book. I love that Pi thanks Krishna for introducing him to Christ. I love that he finds himself on a carnivorous island that to me represented false salvation. Everything was great in the day--eat, drink, and be merry--but what happens when the sun goes down? Are we just molar fruit? I love that the idea for this book in and of itself was so original and absurd that it worked. I loved that he danced around the moral instead of over-stating his case. All in all, it's one of my top three favorite books right now, and I couldn't even tell you what the other two books are.

You should give it a read and a ponder.