Yama I: Ahimsa

This last Sunday, I had the pleasure of participating in an event organized by Vicky Peters, Yoga Day Laramie. It was a day of giving, with the proceeds going to benefit UNICEF, and the classes happened at Blossom Yoga. My contribution was a talk on the yamas and niyamas, which form the first two of Patanjali's eight limbed yoga. There are five yamas and five niyamas, and it occurred to me that I might want to write an entry on each one. So today, here is my meditation on the first yama, ahimsa.

Ahimsa is translated as "non-violence" most commonly and sometimes as "non-harming." When people think about ahimsa, often their thoughts go to vegetarianism and pacificism. These are excellent applications of this principle. But for me, the practice of ahimsa begins in a much smaller and softer way. It begins the first time I look in the mirror in the morning. When we engage in negative self-talk, we are doing very real violence to ourselves the likes of which we would never inflict on another person.

The yamas are all about how to be in relationship, and our first and most important relationship is the one we have with ourselves. If we cannot be peaceful in our relationship with ourselves, being non-violent in our relationships with others is going to drain us of energy over time. And further, practicing peace "at home" gives us the strength we need for occasions in which being non-violent is a challenge.

As I've alluded, non-violence extends beyond actions and back into words and thoughts. Most of us have learned the lesson not to hit by the time we enter first grade, but it can take us a long time to train our minds and our tongues to keep peace. So here's a practice for this week that I'll be doing. When an unfair, hyper-critical thought enters my mind, I will attempt to counter it with something positive. If countering it is unavailable to me at that time, I can label that thought as violent and take a moment to stop, take a moment to breathe. I can then use that space I've created to make a more skillful choice. So much violence in thought and word occurs because we don't give ourselves and others that space.

This week, I'll be taking a breath before I berate the circumference of my thighs or a coworker's tardiness to a meeting. And if I forget to take that breath before, I'll take it after.

Disappointment

There's almost nothing worse. There's a sadness in it, along with a feeling of powerlessness. We identify something we want in our lives, often something worthy and laudable, and we pursue it. We study, consult, and prepare ourselves. We feel that the ground is ready and that we have done the work to deserve a particular outcome. So what happens when we don't get what we want?

The Rolling Stones clause ("You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need") rings a little empty in these moments. No one wants to believe that trying really hard will not insure that we will get what we want. Unfortunately, though, that is often the way it works. So how do we combat these feelings of diappointment? Or, maybe more usefully, how do we open to disappointment and use what it has to teach us?

1.) I gave the first one away. Open, accept, and try not to fight. Allowing ourselves to feel the sadness, anger, and powerlessness of disappointment will make us more compassionate people, both with ourselves and others. Nothing is out of bounds here. You can use all of the emotions that arise. All of them have something valuable to tell you.

2.) Recognize, albeit gently, that disappointment is a byproduct of our attachment to outcomes. When we do a only because we want b to happen, we're going to suffer if b doesn't come to pass. Disappointment is a bell that wakes us up after we've stepped a little to the right or left of our paths. It gives us the opportunity to refocus on the process and to practice a little more.

3.) DON'T GIVE UP, even if you decide that you need to change course or abandon a particular desire. Getting what we need (instead of what we want) is a tremendous gift, too, and accepting that gift graciously prepares us to receive and enjoy our deepest heart's desire.

Intention is everything!

So today, Ethan Nichtern used this memorable phrase to begin his entry at the Interdependence Project. Powerful stuff. I wrote three months ago that I wanted consistency in my writing for this blog, but clearly my intention was not strong enough to bear fruit in action. For me, intention is the seed, the soil, the sun, the water, and the fertilizer. But it can't be all of those things simultaneously. For the alchemy to work, I have to return again and again to my intention so that my desire can be born. The seed won't grow without food, water, and heat, and my attention can bring it all of those things if I commit to returning to it on a regular basis.



And not to beat a dead horse, but here comes the practicing thing again. Calling your mind back to your intention is a prelude to bringing your actions in line with it. You can't align yourself with a stranger, whether that stranger is a new way of eating, a new way of relating, or a new way of responding to situations. So I am called to examine my intention(s), to explore what they will require of me, and to begin the work of preparing myself to fulfill those requirements. Not an easy task, but it begins in that soft, quiet, and dark place where we can admit, "I want more ______ in my life." Not unlike where your favorite tomato plant starts.



Keeping in mind the hard work involved in committing to my intentions, I have to be kind to myself in choosing them. There is no need for a list a mile long. Nothing succeeds like success, so I need to begin with things that feel attainable. Ethan makes the distinction between an intention and an aspiration, and I think it is an important one. Ethan describes aspirations as vectors along which you align your life, with intentions being the priorities that move us along those vectors.

Ethan chooses five priorities or intentions for 2011 in his post, and I am going to do the same. I will say that they are subject to change, though.

1.) I will be more skillful in my speech.
2.) I will be gentler with myself.
3.) I will be gentler with others.
4.) I will gently persist in contemplation and in my practice.
5.) I will treat my body with more care.

So there you have it. I am hoping that 2011 will be a great year for all of us!