Lately I have been playing with different methods of transportation in my practice. Hovering my foot above the ground before I lunge, jumping, floating by piking my legs up, floating by curling my knees in...and, as a by-product of all this, sometimes plopping down unexpectedly.
I'm doing this not because it's going to lead me any faster to awakening than regular stepping and walking will. I do it because it's fun, and because I couldn't do it for most of two recent pregnancies, it's especially fun again now!
And that's been my simple intention for the last few practices: let it be fun.
I have a tendency to turn everything into work. I have an infant and a toddler now. It is sometimes fun. It is also a lot of work. The planning for, acquisition of, preparation of, and cleanup of every meal and beverage, and the resulting bodily outputs, takes up most of the day. Which is fine if you can do it without a two-year-old getting angry that you're not entertaining him at the same time. The rest of the time is filled with admonitions about what to do and what not to do, plus some questions and comments to try to educationally convey what the heck is going on around us.
Clearly, the best way to turn a surly two-year-old into a cooperative one in any situation where something must be done is to make it FUN.
Yes, piggyback rides and horsing around on the floor is out-and-out fun. But how do I let the "work" time with them be fun, too? That's what I am exploring in my yoga practice lately. How do I let the ordinary, repetitive, mundane activities of the day be light?
Whether I am paying bills, strapping a bored and resistant little boy into a car seat, or sitting at a desk trying to meet a deadline: If I had never done this before, how would this moment feel? If I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity to do this, how would it feel to do it?
Sometimes we work therapeutically on the mat...sometimes gently...sometimes we're just there to have fun! Can that happen whether we are floating through the air, or resting in child (Balasana)? Trying a fancy new posture, or repeating an old standby?
19 July 2010
07 July 2010
Not sure how to say it...but I know it happens.
I used to scoff at heart metaphors. "Open your heart," I'd say. "What the **** does that mean?" Metaphors are supposed to explain something new by referring to something more familiar. So I'm supposed to know what my "heart" feels like in order to understand compassion and empathy for others? I can find my heart rate. Is that good enough?
I was pretty stuck in my mind. Still am. But I understand now what the metaphors are trying to convey, because I've felt a lot more there, literally, in the area of my heart. It's funny how certain emotions are felt as physical sensations pretty much all the way up along the central line of the body--some things we feel strongly in the gut, others in the heart area, some in the throat, others in the head. Deep emotions sometimes, but rarely, manifest in the arms and legs.
Yoga explains this by using the model of chakras. Now, I emphasize that this is a MODEL, a way of describing, not a concrete representation of reality, because I don't believe that chakras are "things" that we can find along the spine, as they are often pictured. Rather, the model of the chakras provides a useful way to talk about how certain emotional, physical, and psychological issues are so often bound up together in ourselves and in others.
And this is something I have felt in my own body, and heard from students about, too. A woman recently told me about her mother's death a decade ago. She said that whenever she wanted to hold back tears during that time, say, at work, she'd tighten her left hip flexor. That would bury the emotion so she could avoid expressing her grief at that moment.
Of course, that grief did not disappear--it became tension in the front of her hip that she then had to work out, physically and/or emotionally. She had the awareness to watch it happen and know what to do. Lots of our emotions get stored as physical tension when we bottle them up.
In my own case, I have noticed how when I am anxious or worried, my left lower back tightens. Even with little things--I can feel it tighten as I pour windshield wiper fluid into my car and get concerned about spilling it. (So I wonder how much is happening there when I'm worried about how my son's speech is developing!)
And almost all of us can feel our shoulders hunch--forward and up--when we brace ourselves for bad news, stressful events, cold wintry days, driving in poor visibility...all kinds of situations in which we try to protect ourselves from what's happening. We're closing ourselves off, defensively.
Western psychology doesn't yet have a well-developed way to deal with that interconnection of thought, emotion, and physical sensation. But yoga does. More importantly, yoga offers the practices that allow us to EXPLORE those connections on our own and notice them for ourselves.
So stop reading and do your practice. Today, focus on opening your heart area. Literally. Do this:
--Where you are right now, draw your shoulderblades toward your spine and toward your tailbone. As you do this, feel the top of your upper arm bone move securely into the shoulder socket and back towards the wall behind you.
--Notice how this makes you feel. Proud? Open to what happens next? Vulnerable? Something totally different?
--Now make sure you haven't overarched your lower back as you did this. If you feel your low back get tense or your tailbone jutting out behind you, then draw your lowest front ribs in toward your spine and lift your lowest back ribs up a little. Let your tailbone descend toward the floor as you lift your front hip points by engaging your lower abdomen. Can you maintain the open heart as you do this?
--Breathe fully into your torso. Collarbones and upper back; ribcage front, sides, and back; and navel and lower back. Notice which areas "give."
See if you can do this for the next 15 minutes where you are right now...at a desk, lying in bed, waiting in a line with your iPhone, whatever. If you lose some part of this alignment, re-establish it.
Then when you get to your mat, begin each movement with the steps outlined above. This will seat the arm bones properly in the shoulder and stretch the pectoralis muscles. It will strengthen the rhomboids, middle trapezius, latissimus, and serratus muscles. It will strengthen your transversus (deep) and rectus (superficial) abdominal muscles and teach them to engage lightly for good posture all the time. It will help maintain normal spinal curves instead of reinforcing the excessive thoracic curve ('widow's hump') that develops from hunching those shoulders forward and up....
And it may even open your heart.
I was pretty stuck in my mind. Still am. But I understand now what the metaphors are trying to convey, because I've felt a lot more there, literally, in the area of my heart. It's funny how certain emotions are felt as physical sensations pretty much all the way up along the central line of the body--some things we feel strongly in the gut, others in the heart area, some in the throat, others in the head. Deep emotions sometimes, but rarely, manifest in the arms and legs.
Yoga explains this by using the model of chakras. Now, I emphasize that this is a MODEL, a way of describing, not a concrete representation of reality, because I don't believe that chakras are "things" that we can find along the spine, as they are often pictured. Rather, the model of the chakras provides a useful way to talk about how certain emotional, physical, and psychological issues are so often bound up together in ourselves and in others.
And this is something I have felt in my own body, and heard from students about, too. A woman recently told me about her mother's death a decade ago. She said that whenever she wanted to hold back tears during that time, say, at work, she'd tighten her left hip flexor. That would bury the emotion so she could avoid expressing her grief at that moment.
Of course, that grief did not disappear--it became tension in the front of her hip that she then had to work out, physically and/or emotionally. She had the awareness to watch it happen and know what to do. Lots of our emotions get stored as physical tension when we bottle them up.
In my own case, I have noticed how when I am anxious or worried, my left lower back tightens. Even with little things--I can feel it tighten as I pour windshield wiper fluid into my car and get concerned about spilling it. (So I wonder how much is happening there when I'm worried about how my son's speech is developing!)
And almost all of us can feel our shoulders hunch--forward and up--when we brace ourselves for bad news, stressful events, cold wintry days, driving in poor visibility...all kinds of situations in which we try to protect ourselves from what's happening. We're closing ourselves off, defensively.
Western psychology doesn't yet have a well-developed way to deal with that interconnection of thought, emotion, and physical sensation. But yoga does. More importantly, yoga offers the practices that allow us to EXPLORE those connections on our own and notice them for ourselves.
So stop reading and do your practice. Today, focus on opening your heart area. Literally. Do this:
--Where you are right now, draw your shoulderblades toward your spine and toward your tailbone. As you do this, feel the top of your upper arm bone move securely into the shoulder socket and back towards the wall behind you.
--Notice how this makes you feel. Proud? Open to what happens next? Vulnerable? Something totally different?
--Now make sure you haven't overarched your lower back as you did this. If you feel your low back get tense or your tailbone jutting out behind you, then draw your lowest front ribs in toward your spine and lift your lowest back ribs up a little. Let your tailbone descend toward the floor as you lift your front hip points by engaging your lower abdomen. Can you maintain the open heart as you do this?
--Breathe fully into your torso. Collarbones and upper back; ribcage front, sides, and back; and navel and lower back. Notice which areas "give."
See if you can do this for the next 15 minutes where you are right now...at a desk, lying in bed, waiting in a line with your iPhone, whatever. If you lose some part of this alignment, re-establish it.
Then when you get to your mat, begin each movement with the steps outlined above. This will seat the arm bones properly in the shoulder and stretch the pectoralis muscles. It will strengthen the rhomboids, middle trapezius, latissimus, and serratus muscles. It will strengthen your transversus (deep) and rectus (superficial) abdominal muscles and teach them to engage lightly for good posture all the time. It will help maintain normal spinal curves instead of reinforcing the excessive thoracic curve ('widow's hump') that develops from hunching those shoulders forward and up....
And it may even open your heart.
29 June 2010
Happy In(ter)dependence Day!
"The whole trend of modern civilization is towards external freedom. Free expression of opinion, free association...and freedom to pursue a vocation according to one's merits are essentially needed for making life fruitful and happy."
"But external freedom, in the last analysis, is egocentric, and should not miss its spiritual counterpart in internal freedom. Inner freedom consists in the conquest of lust, anger, greed, attachment, pride, and sloth. A happy blending of reason and love can alone bring about this freedom and give meaning to all forms of external freedom."
--Swami Avyaktananda
We celebrate each year how our founders fought for external freedoms. These freedoms, as the swami says, are crucial, and they have been defended and extended through the words and actions of many patriots since those first American ones we celebrate. We all benefit from these freedoms.
Inner freedom (moksha, in Sanskrit), on the other hand, each of us must establish on our own. And while effort and passionate discipline (tapas) are a big component of finding that freedom, so is surrender (ishvara pranidhana). Giving ourselves up to something larger than our own individual selves. God, if that is your parlance, or the universal consciousness, or just all living beings. Yogic texts leave it up to you to conceptualize that bigger thing (ishvara is the most abstract, generic term Sanskrit has for something divine and large, and that's the word used in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, even though there are hundreds of other Sanskrit words and names for the divine that could have been used).
But surrender is harder to do than fighting, especially inside. In your practice today, can you begin from an attitude of surrender? Give up. Then practice anyway.
"The ultimate attainment is already ours, but the experience of it comes to us only when we are in a state of complete surrender. In case, "surrender" means the surrender of everything--every effort, desire, thought of attainment....The person who can do this becomes a fountain of consciousness."
--Swami Chetanananda
Throughout your practice, when you encounter resistance--physical, mental, whatever--ask yourself: What am I holding onto here?
"But external freedom, in the last analysis, is egocentric, and should not miss its spiritual counterpart in internal freedom. Inner freedom consists in the conquest of lust, anger, greed, attachment, pride, and sloth. A happy blending of reason and love can alone bring about this freedom and give meaning to all forms of external freedom."
--Swami Avyaktananda
We celebrate each year how our founders fought for external freedoms. These freedoms, as the swami says, are crucial, and they have been defended and extended through the words and actions of many patriots since those first American ones we celebrate. We all benefit from these freedoms.
Inner freedom (moksha, in Sanskrit), on the other hand, each of us must establish on our own. And while effort and passionate discipline (tapas) are a big component of finding that freedom, so is surrender (ishvara pranidhana). Giving ourselves up to something larger than our own individual selves. God, if that is your parlance, or the universal consciousness, or just all living beings. Yogic texts leave it up to you to conceptualize that bigger thing (ishvara is the most abstract, generic term Sanskrit has for something divine and large, and that's the word used in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, even though there are hundreds of other Sanskrit words and names for the divine that could have been used).
But surrender is harder to do than fighting, especially inside. In your practice today, can you begin from an attitude of surrender? Give up. Then practice anyway.
"The ultimate attainment is already ours, but the experience of it comes to us only when we are in a state of complete surrender. In case, "surrender" means the surrender of everything--every effort, desire, thought of attainment....The person who can do this becomes a fountain of consciousness."
--Swami Chetanananda
Throughout your practice, when you encounter resistance--physical, mental, whatever--ask yourself: What am I holding onto here?
23 June 2010
Zoning In
When I stay in a hotel, or otherwise have access to unfettered television, it sucks me in. My attention becomes focused on something very much NOT of the here and now. This is not to say that TV is bad; it is just to agree with the many people who have described what happens as "zoning out." This may be why lots of people say they use TV to relax. It allows you to forget about your own here-and-now for a while.
But to me it feels like anything but relaxing. A long bout of television watching leaves me feeling much like I've chewed some gum way past any flavor payoff, and my jaw aches from the mastication. Research backs this up--watching TV keeps your sympathetic nervous system active. That's the part responsible for fight-or-flight reactions. But don't we all have enough situations in which we're already responding that way?
My yoga practice, on the other hand, gives me so many tools for zoning IN. The breath is the key one. When I focus only and exclusively on this full, smooth ujjayi inhale...this complete, slow ujjayi exhale...and I let the movements be secondary to my breathing...that's when I can zone IN on what's happening right here and now.
And that's good practice for staying attentive to the here-and-now off my mat, too. Many people would say that the vigorous type of vinyasa yoga I practice on my mat isn't very relaxing. Yet it prepares me to relax in so many ways.
It prepares me to relax, let go, and stay with what's happening when things are difficult (in my fifth straight balancing pose on my right leg, which is starting to quiver and shake). It prepares me to relax when I lie back for savasana at the end of class. And it prepares me to relax when I have to confront someone about a situation in which I'm not comfortable.
To start your yoga practice today, experiment with your ujjayi breath. (If you don't know what that is, find an experienced yoga teacher to show you.)
-Sit comfortably.
-See what it is like to make the inhales longer than the exhales. Do this for about 10 breaths.
-Now reverse it: make the exhales longer. Do this for about 20 breaths.
-Now make the inhales and exhales equal. (Use a metronome if you have one, or else just mentally count.) Do this for the rest of your practice. (Easy to say, hard to do.)
If you don't usually emphasize equal breathing during your yoga practice, this can be quite an eye-opener. We often shorten the inhales whenever things get difficult, and we often let the breath get shallow and quick when things get vigorous. Smooth it out. Zone in. Stay with what is happening here and now. If a posture is too intense to zone in, then back out of it physically until you can really stay with it mentally.
Doing this, you are practicing samavrtti ujjayi pranayama (equal-parts victorious breath) to develop pratyahara (sensory withdrawal). We withdraw the senses temporarily from outside stimuli to focus on what's happening inside for a while. We don't turn them off...we just turn them inward. And like turning on a microscope to see what's happening in a boring old drop of water, we can be surprised by how much is really going on in there!
But to me it feels like anything but relaxing. A long bout of television watching leaves me feeling much like I've chewed some gum way past any flavor payoff, and my jaw aches from the mastication. Research backs this up--watching TV keeps your sympathetic nervous system active. That's the part responsible for fight-or-flight reactions. But don't we all have enough situations in which we're already responding that way?
My yoga practice, on the other hand, gives me so many tools for zoning IN. The breath is the key one. When I focus only and exclusively on this full, smooth ujjayi inhale...this complete, slow ujjayi exhale...and I let the movements be secondary to my breathing...that's when I can zone IN on what's happening right here and now.
And that's good practice for staying attentive to the here-and-now off my mat, too. Many people would say that the vigorous type of vinyasa yoga I practice on my mat isn't very relaxing. Yet it prepares me to relax in so many ways.
It prepares me to relax, let go, and stay with what's happening when things are difficult (in my fifth straight balancing pose on my right leg, which is starting to quiver and shake). It prepares me to relax when I lie back for savasana at the end of class. And it prepares me to relax when I have to confront someone about a situation in which I'm not comfortable.
To start your yoga practice today, experiment with your ujjayi breath. (If you don't know what that is, find an experienced yoga teacher to show you.)
-Sit comfortably.
-See what it is like to make the inhales longer than the exhales. Do this for about 10 breaths.
-Now reverse it: make the exhales longer. Do this for about 20 breaths.
-Now make the inhales and exhales equal. (Use a metronome if you have one, or else just mentally count.) Do this for the rest of your practice. (Easy to say, hard to do.)
If you don't usually emphasize equal breathing during your yoga practice, this can be quite an eye-opener. We often shorten the inhales whenever things get difficult, and we often let the breath get shallow and quick when things get vigorous. Smooth it out. Zone in. Stay with what is happening here and now. If a posture is too intense to zone in, then back out of it physically until you can really stay with it mentally.
Doing this, you are practicing samavrtti ujjayi pranayama (equal-parts victorious breath) to develop pratyahara (sensory withdrawal). We withdraw the senses temporarily from outside stimuli to focus on what's happening inside for a while. We don't turn them off...we just turn them inward. And like turning on a microscope to see what's happening in a boring old drop of water, we can be surprised by how much is really going on in there!
16 June 2010
Playing in the Mud
It's an oft-used metaphor in yoga: the lotus, symbol of beauty and perfection, rises from mud. Not from perfect mounds of colored mulch, nor from pretty clay pots, but from the stuff that sank to the bottom of the water and collected there. The muck.
This is what we are faced with when we explore the yogic and buddhist concept of awakening. From what does our blossoming awareness come? From the muck! From the drudgery of everyday life, from the conflict, the messiness of it all.
That's the trap AND the release. Samsara (the wheel of life) IS nirvana (awakening, freedom from that wheel's repetition), as buddhism says. A regular practice of yoga asana (postures) and pranayama (breath and energy techniques) shows us this, whether or not we even purposely delve into the other limbs of yoga or the philosophies that sprang up around them!
When we confront the tightness, the weirdness, the asymmetry, the tenderness of the body each day, we sometimes feel trapped in this body, with its limitations. Why am I stuck in a body that can't do lotus/won't balance/creaks when it moves/is too big to bind a twist/is too small to hold itself up on its hands/betrays me in so many ways?
If we stick with it and are both gentle (ahimsa!) and passionately, willingly disciplined (tapas!) with ourselves, we see that it is in those limitations, in those weaknesses, in those gaps we perceive in ourselves, that the illumination occurs. The learning, the awakening. Nothing has to change. It's already there in the muck.
It's true in our minds, too. When they swirl like eddies of dirty water, all we have to do is watch. The dirt might settle, the water become clear. Or it might not. Either way, when we observe, we have a chance to notice how FULL each breath, each repetitive thought, each restricted movement is. The lotus is already there, in the mud, even if we don't see the petals on the surface of the water.
Let's play in the mud. What are the muddiest, messiest parts of your yoga practice? Hip opening? Transitions (like jumping back or stepping forward)? Seated meditation?
Can you observe these points today and watch for the beauty, the light, even in the parts that feel the muckiest?
(Playlist suggestion: Leonard Cohen's "Anthem". He reminds us in his lyrics: "Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.")
This is what we are faced with when we explore the yogic and buddhist concept of awakening. From what does our blossoming awareness come? From the muck! From the drudgery of everyday life, from the conflict, the messiness of it all.
That's the trap AND the release. Samsara (the wheel of life) IS nirvana (awakening, freedom from that wheel's repetition), as buddhism says. A regular practice of yoga asana (postures) and pranayama (breath and energy techniques) shows us this, whether or not we even purposely delve into the other limbs of yoga or the philosophies that sprang up around them!
When we confront the tightness, the weirdness, the asymmetry, the tenderness of the body each day, we sometimes feel trapped in this body, with its limitations. Why am I stuck in a body that can't do lotus/won't balance/creaks when it moves/is too big to bind a twist/is too small to hold itself up on its hands/betrays me in so many ways?
If we stick with it and are both gentle (ahimsa!) and passionately, willingly disciplined (tapas!) with ourselves, we see that it is in those limitations, in those weaknesses, in those gaps we perceive in ourselves, that the illumination occurs. The learning, the awakening. Nothing has to change. It's already there in the muck.
It's true in our minds, too. When they swirl like eddies of dirty water, all we have to do is watch. The dirt might settle, the water become clear. Or it might not. Either way, when we observe, we have a chance to notice how FULL each breath, each repetitive thought, each restricted movement is. The lotus is already there, in the mud, even if we don't see the petals on the surface of the water.
Let's play in the mud. What are the muddiest, messiest parts of your yoga practice? Hip opening? Transitions (like jumping back or stepping forward)? Seated meditation?
Can you observe these points today and watch for the beauty, the light, even in the parts that feel the muckiest?
(Playlist suggestion: Leonard Cohen's "Anthem". He reminds us in his lyrics: "Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.")
15 June 2010
You Look Fabulous. How Do You Feel?
Notice the moments you focus on how things look in your practice--toenails, clothing, mat, veins, the person in front of you, the teacher's outfit, even how your pose looks from the outside. Each time you find yourself caught in a thought about how things look, turn your awareness to how you feel. Notice the movement of your breath again. Notice the areas that feel open and any that feel tight or closed. Create actions that respond to those sensations rather than any observations or judgments of how things look. Rest your eyes on one point and let your vision become peripheral...not the center of your awareness. Or close your eyes.
Looking and being looked at are not bad things. At certain points in the process of learning yoga postures, they may be quite helpful--for instance, using a mirror or looking directly at a body part to see what it's doing and how it is aligned. Yet an overemphasis on vision can dull our other senses, and often we're already letting vision be our dominant sense throughout the day. So for your practice today, let go of how things look. Bring your attention back to how they feel.
Looking and being looked at are not bad things. At certain points in the process of learning yoga postures, they may be quite helpful--for instance, using a mirror or looking directly at a body part to see what it's doing and how it is aligned. Yet an overemphasis on vision can dull our other senses, and often we're already letting vision be our dominant sense throughout the day. So for your practice today, let go of how things look. Bring your attention back to how they feel.
11 June 2010
What Do You Worship?
In the words of my favorite writer...
"In the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshiping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship — be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles — is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.
"If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough..."
"Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you."
"Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.
"But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful, it’s that they’re unconscious. They are default settings. They’re the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that’s what you’re doing."
"And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom."
"The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation."
"This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of wanting and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and effort and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty little unsexy ways every day."
"That is real freedom."
Consider what you worship by default. What do your words, thoughts, and deeds reveal is most important to you? Is this leading you to freedom? If you choose your HIGHEST intention today for your yoga practice on the mat, what will it be? And when you leave the mat...what will your intention be? What will you worship as you go about your day today, with your thoughts, words, and actions?
(To read the rest of David Foster Wallace's speech, see "This is Water," available online or in book form. When the man who is now my husband asked me what I'd suggest to learn about yoga, I didn't tell him to get a book about postures...I told him to read this speech and take a class.)
"In the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshiping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship — be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles — is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.
"If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough..."
"Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you."
"Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.
"But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful, it’s that they’re unconscious. They are default settings. They’re the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that’s what you’re doing."
"And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom."
"The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation."
"This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of wanting and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and effort and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty little unsexy ways every day."
"That is real freedom."
Consider what you worship by default. What do your words, thoughts, and deeds reveal is most important to you? Is this leading you to freedom? If you choose your HIGHEST intention today for your yoga practice on the mat, what will it be? And when you leave the mat...what will your intention be? What will you worship as you go about your day today, with your thoughts, words, and actions?
(To read the rest of David Foster Wallace's speech, see "This is Water," available online or in book form. When the man who is now my husband asked me what I'd suggest to learn about yoga, I didn't tell him to get a book about postures...I told him to read this speech and take a class.)
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