Yoga and the NYT: to quit, just hope for the best, or proceed with confidence? (!)

Today a yoga student of mine told me that she was afraid to practice yoga, after reading the New York Times’ article of January, 2012 entitled “Yoga Can Wreck Your Body”.

What if, after years of practice, her body began to fall apart, or she came down with a strange malady (or a common one)? It’s a good question to consider, since we are all likely to come down with various maladies and problems, regardless of how we spend our time. But which maladies, and why?

In a broad sense, since we are all going to fall to pieces and eventually die, why the fuss? Why the article? One thing is eventually going to wreck the body; if not yoga, then gardening, or snowboarding, running, smoking, overeating, stress, or accident. Our bodies last for a limited time. But, as my yoga teacher has said, “If I’m going to die for the same reasons as the person who spent every night of his life at the pub, why did I do all this yoga?”

The common assumption is that that yoga is “good for us” and that yoga makes us more vital and healthy. In the first paragraph of the Times article, the author says he naively believed that yoga was “only a source of healing, and never harm.”

How could this be? For instance, medicine is a science designed to help us. Is it always a source of healing and never harm? Only when practiced in the right way. Even then, only when God and the people involved have the good luck and right treatments to heal. It’s the same with yoga. We have a science that can be used to support health. It’s also a science designed to support health so that we have a foundation to transcend our current absorption in our perceived individuality and know more about our nature and spirit. But this is only possible with good knowledge, good application, and good fortune. Some say that it is good fortune to have the time, space and ability to practice yoga at all. To take it a step further, it is good fortune to be able to practice yoga and to find good guides, at the right times, to help minimize missteps and misperceptions. For this we need instinct, sharp perception, knowledge, help and faith.

It’s just silly to think that yoga will always help and never harm, so we need to reflect upon why and how we are approaching the practice, what the practice itself is, why it is that way, and what we can do about it.

In the article in the Times, writer William J. Broad, claims that many long-time practitioners and teachers are physically compromised by injuries, diseases, and conditions exacerbated by years of yoga practice. (I thought it odd that he went back to cases in the early 1970's for examples, that he used as an example a teacher who was performing for a camera crew when she got injured, but anyway--)

Yoga teacher Glenn Black is described as telling some of his students to give it up and not practice yoga at all. I think Black is doing students a favor when he sees that someone is going to face tremendous challenges if they are to continue with yoga: the biggest challenge a practitioner of yoga faces is to see themselves clearly, find their arrogance and ignorance, and change long-ingrained habits of behavior, thinking, and movement. Even if we recognize something that is not serving us, and know that we would like to change, we all know that it is sometimes a nearly impossible task.

Yet that is the project at hand! Patanjali, who compiled the Yoga Sutras some 2,000 years ago, is said to have created three texts: one on grammar so that people could communicate, a text on medicine to support health, and the Yoga Sutras to address our psychology and spirit. As humans, we have a physical body, mind, emotions, spirit, and intellect. Each of these facets affects the others, so the yoga practice we do is a way to see physical manifestation of the more subtle layers of ourselves. The way we behave shapes our body, and the way we think shapes our movement, for instance.

On the same note, how we behave, and the habits we carry into the practice of yoga will be amplified: if problems arise, they are likely not caused by yoga, they are caused by what we've unintentionally brought with us: the habits and approaches so much a part of us that they are often invisible to us. This is what the practice is bringing to light. This is why you must be alert. Some of the 'problems' are reflections of our own habits, and when they are small and minor it is our chance to alter them, and mitigate any unfortunate effects. (This is a best case scenario sort of idea.)

Glenn Black says, “Today many schools of yoga are just about pushing people. You can’t believe what’s going on—teachers jumping on people, pushing and pulling and saying ‘You should be able to do this by now.’ It has to do with their egos.” He’s talking about the teacher’s ego! Students of yoga are lucky when they are unaware of the battles and pettiness we yoga teachers go through. At our “worst”, we feel insecure when our classes are small, we find ourselves becoming invested in the “performance” of our students, we compare ourselves with other teachers, and what we teach against other styles. I’ve seen teachers become proud at their students’ accomplishments in yoga, and take it personally when students “disappear” from their classes. I've been that teacher. And, as a teacher, I try to be conscious of these ego-based feelings, and recognize them. I endeavor to keep my focus on the needs of students, rather than my own, and to teach simple, useful things that I believe in because they’ve been useful for me.

For teachers, there are financial and ego-based motivations for teaching and for attracting students. I know that students get excited by trying and accomplishing new things. When I taught vinyasa yoga in the first few years of teaching, I definitely collected yoga ‘tricks’ which were possible, but impressive, and would stir the enthusiasm of students. A good teacher will not be personally invested in your “successes” in yoga, but will guide you in good faith, with detachment and compassion, and all of the knowledge they have. With an inexperienced or egotistical teacher, the student has to realize that they have not only their own ego to keep in check, but that of their teacher.

Ego (which gives rise to pride and arrogance), in both the student and the teacher, is just one of the klesha (causes of suffering) described by Patanjali in the Yoga Sutras. The others, briefly, are:

1. Avidya: Wrong or incorrect knowledge. Is what we perceive accurate? This is the mother of all challenges in life. If we could correctly and clearly perceive the world around us and within us, we would always know the best thing to do, the best action to take. However (as I was saying above), the human condition is that our perception is always distorted. We are individuals perceiving through our own personal lens of past experience, hopes and expectations, fears and etc. The purpose of yoga is to help clean the lens so that, in this case, we can choose a good teacher, appropriate practices, clearly see what is going on as we practice, exercise good judgement, and proceed with confidence.
2. Asmita: Ego (mentioned above). Necessary for sanity and a sense of self in our world, with the downside of selfishness and greed, excessive self-preservation.
3. Raga and Dvesa: Attachment and Aversion: Again, due to our personal preferences, culture, and experience, we are drawn to some things and have an aversion to others. In the context of yoga practice, do you avoid certain postures just because you find them unpleasant or difficult? Do you return with gladness to certain other postures because you can do them so well? Everyone does this. But again, with discernment and knowledge, we can have a practice that includes the work that is best for us, whether we like it or not.
4. Abhinivesa: Fear. Fear that some harm will come to us, that we will fail, be embarrassed, have to face challenges, or fall short are obstacles that cause us suffering. Not to mention the fear of death itself, which brings up again our ego attachment and love for this life experience. Yet we will all die, all fall apart, and experience illness and pain.

As with any tool, yoga practice can be used inappropriately, and harm may come to either the tool, or what it is used upon, or both. A metaphor: Imagine using your nice kitchen chef’s knife to make a dugout canoe. First of all, the knife is the wrong tool for the job. It will be very inefficient in reaching the goal, the canoe may not turn out very well, and the knife itself will likely be ruined. It could be said that something like this has happened to the tool of yoga: yoga asana has become an exercise, a reason for the marketing of props and clothing, a fad, and a diversion. Many of us are proud of being a 'yoga practitioner' and identified with our yoga stuff and yoga lifestyle. Yoga asana was intended as one facet of a broader practice, which was not intended to be a practice with mass appeal. That said, general, simple activities are good for maintaining health and well being; advanced practices may not be appropriate for every person or every life. The article in the Times is a good reminder to be aware of what you’re doing, where it comes from, and why you’re doing it. And even when you've been working with sincerity and the best of intentions, to be alert and ready to admit small mistakes before they become big ones.

Ego drives teachers to teach beyond their means, practioners to practice beyond their capabilities. Time invested compounds our attachment to our practices. For those of us with years, or decades invested in practice, we would hesitate to give it up, considering time already invested. My high school ceramics teacher was one of the greatest teachers of my life. John Kantar was among the kindest, most dedicated teachers I’ve known, and used ceramics as a tool to teach us about history, the earth, and how to be a good person. Mr. Kantar is a very wise man. He told me that he took stock of his life every year, and gave himself the opportunity to give up what he was doing and choose a different path. It takes a lot of courage to even consider starting again, to leave the familiar for something more suitable. What's suitable may be to delve deeper into what you have begun, and it may not.

When I began the practice of yoga, I thought it was about one thing, and over time, there have been many occasions when I thought: “this is not at all what I thought it was.” These were moments when I looked at my new understanding, and decided to keep going. I believe that I was naïve, and that my first understandings were superficial, and the more I learn about yoga, the more interested I am in it (so far!).

For our own good, we need to find teachers and sources of information that we trust and stay alert. We need to practice discernment, and vigilance, to see where we are, and what we need to do, and be courageous as we proceed.

The stuff that binds us

Here is a Gil Hedley video (only a couple of minutes long) which explains how our bodies gradually become stiff (to a mild extent during the night) and in the case of injury or habitual behavior, our movements become more limited, and we become more stiff. This video shows the way tissues get bound together, by using a cadaver, and is worth watching.

Gratitude and Perserverance

At the Thanksgiving time of year, I often think of BKS Iyengar. Mr. Iyengar, now a world-renowned teacher, was born into the influenza pandemic of 1918, and was a weak and sickly child. He began to practice yoga under the guidance of Sri T Krishnamacharya in the 1930's, and continues this work even today, in Pune, India. When I read articles and books by Mr. Iyengar, who was my teacher’s teacher for many years, I am aware of the continuous thread of acceptance and relentless inquiry. “In 1979,” he says, “Immediately after my sixtieth birthday, I had two scooter accidents. These set the clock back so much I had to begin yoga all over again as a raw beginner. … It took me more than eight years to fight and regain control over my body-and-mind. This was through my determined effort to get back into yoga, and yoga graced me to embrace it with reverence.” How many of us would bounce back after such a set back? And yet, set backs are a part of life.

In these modern times of short-term plans and thinking, I find it inspiring to reflect upon the experience of people who have a longer term view. Iyengar has practiced for nearly 80 years. My teacher has likewise put over five decades into his practice, and perhaps it is the glimpses of what the practice reveals that keeps them at it, and continues to enliven them as teachers and practitioners.

Something has to enliven us, inspire us, and encourage us, because the practice of yoga is not easy. There are challenges at every turn, and while challenge and work can be invigorating, it can also be tedious and discouraging. Iyengar, in his summary of the Yoga Sutras in the introduction of his classic book, Light on Yoga, reminds us of the distractions and obstacles on the path of yoga: Sickness, languor, laziness, doubt, indifference, sensual desire, invalid understanding, the failure to maintain a continuity of thought, and the inability to maintain that which has been attained through practice. In addition, we may experience pain, despair, and unsteadiness in the body and/or breath. In the face of these obstacles, how to keep going? The answer is found in nearly every yoga book and text: with faith and daily practice.

With a bit of writing each day, you are sure to one day have written a novel. With a few steps you can begin a long journey. Likewise, with a bit of practice each day, you will see a result over time. Commitment and consistent practice are key to success with yoga. By success I mean a rewarding experience from which you will gradually comprehend what is real and what is not, who you are and who you are not, and develop the ability to see and understand clearly.

Consistent practice is also the remedy for lack of tapas. Tapas literally means “to burn”, and in the context of yoga refers to discipline, ardent desire, that which inspires us to dedicate ourselves to a craft such as yoga. The teacher and writer Donna Farhi has compared practice to a fire: it takes a little bit of fuel, added consistently to the fire, to keep it going. A huge log will smother the fire, and smolder. A lack of fuel will cause the fire to go out. When we begin a practice, it is like lighting a fire, which must be tended regularly, lest it go out, but not over-done, in which case we’ll get bogged down with exhaustion or injury.

It is with the burning enthusiasm of tapas that we forge ahead, when we feel too busy, or tired, or happy, or hungry, or distracted, or too bored to practice. We can take these feelings into account, and then proceed with our practice. The rhythm of a consistent practice starts to move forward on its own momentum, so that it is easy to keep going, like a fire that has burned for some time, and has some glowing coals and warmth.

This is one reason that I teach month-long classes: because it is only through the experience of consistent practice that one can see the benefit of it. It is one thing to understand the theory, but another to have the experience. Another reason that I teach this way is that the Shadow Yoga practice is best learned in a series of classes, since in the beginning, students must learn the prelude sequences, and once learned must practice them. Likewise, it allows me to get to know the students in class, which is an essential aspect of the teacher/student relationship.

I am aware that it is a commitment to sign up for a month-long course. Simply this commitment, and the act of getting out of bed, and into the yoga studio each morning are a type of practice. Any challenge to your usual way of doing things and routine requires a bit of tapas to forge a new habit, or at least take a break from the existing one. In some ways, this is the most difficult part. Until we have the experience of practice, it is hard to convince oneself to get up out of a warm bed, or that extra hour of sleep, in order to come to yoga class. Over the long term, it’s worth it. Until a student has that experience, they have to trust me enough to take my word for it, or look to people of wisdom and experience whose example resonates with them.

Once do we begin practice, we are confronted with our own limitations, but also our strengths. We can be grateful that we did find the fortitude to get up and come to class, and we can be grateful that we have the strength and health to participate. It is the things that are going well, and working for us, that will support us to address the things that are not working so well.

My teachers and mentors describe set-backs, missteps, accidents. They recount times when they followed one path, then later saw things differently and changed their direction. A good teacher can save us some time, and some mistakes, but ultimately we are all on the same sort of journey, and when following a new path will sometimes find unexpected things, both difficulties and welcome surprises. Through these ups and downs, we can maintain a steady course, with consistent practice, and acceptance of the inevitable fluctuations between the days when you can’t wait to practice and everything is easy, and the days when it’s the last thing you want to do. Perhaps within the thing perceived at first as a weakness, or set back, we will find a greater strength. Despite doubts, obstacles, and setbacks: Practice anyway, with intelligence and patience.

Yoga is a very real opportunity to experience in a direct and authentic way. It is sometimes a real pain, and it is a great gift.

In Mr. Iyengar’s article, How Yoga Transformed Me, (most of the content of which can also be found in his book, Light on Life), Iyengar says of his early days:

My hard practice caused agony to my body, to my nerves, and to my mind and even to myself. I was tossed from one side to the other; sometimes the body refused to co-operate, and at other times the mind would not bear the pain. This way my body and mind oscillated. My energies were sapped and mental fatigue set in. If I did not try, the self within grew restless: if I tried, failure brought on dejection. Very often exhaustion brought me to the point of collapse. I could neither eat nor drink with comfort. Though I continued practicing yoga for years, dejection and doubt tormented me and my mind found no rest except in renewed effort. Each day was an ordeal but God’s grace forced me to make one more attempt for every failure. As I had no guide, I made enormous mistakes but I learned discrimination from observing my own errors. When circumstances forced me to live on my own, I had to go without food for days. Often I lived only on a cup of tea, but the inner flame kept on goading me to do my daily practice with zeal. Slowly, I began to feel that my body was growing in strength, my restless, agitated mind was gaining stability. Though I started with the practice in 1934, It was only in 1946 that an innate interest in yoga arose in me. ....…. Even though age is telling upon me, I am still experiencing new feelings. I do not hesitate to share the light of my new experiences with my pupils. I live in my cells and I live in my heart. I would like to practice yoga till my last breath, as a humble service to yoga. My only wish is to prostrate before God, surrendering my last breath in a yogic posture.

(this last quotation is from an article by BKS Iyengar: “How Yoga Transformed Me”)

Yoga teachers, teach!

A friend posted this article from Susan Piver, on the subject of yoga classes nowadays, and how they can be lacking in instruction.

Teaching and Shadow Yoga

I am sometimes asked by teachers whether they can integrate some of the movements from the Shadow Yoga practice into their classes. The short answer is: it’s not a good idea. Here is a longer answer.

Yoga practice is systematic: each movement has a particular reason for why it is practiced, and where it appears in the course of the practice. This is true not only for each movement, but for each gesture and transition from movement to movement. The Shadow (Hatha) Yoga practice is like a combination lock; one thing follows the next, and the practice is effective because of the efficiency, specific sequences, and rhythm. It has been brought forth with consideration of the vayus, and nadi systems of the subtle anatomy. The understanding of all this can only come from personal experience supplemented by guidance from an experienced teacher. This is true of all useful yoga practices, but not always true in the modern world of popular yoga.

There aren’t very many Shadow Yoga teachers because the school’s founder, Zhander Remete, knows and has guided everyone who teaches it. This is to ensure things don’t go wrong through misunderstanding or confusion. Traditionally, yoga has been taught directly from the teacher to the student. Zhander offered guidance to those of his students who were inclined to teach, but his "program"-such as it is-has been limited to few people, maybe 40 students world-wide over the past 6 years.

Nowadays, there are many one-week or one-month, or 500-hour teacher trainings. In this case, there may be little relationship between the teacher and the student, and perhaps no recourse for the student to have a guide and ask questions after this brief program is over. Having completed this or that program of training, students are automatically given a certificate of completion. Invariably some unprepared teachers hang out their sign and unsuspecting students put their trust in them. The teacher's pride in having to be the teacher and not make mistakes can lead them to hide their ignorance and inadvertently mislead students.

Many young teachers are aware that they need further guidance and do continue their studies, however it is also essential that we eradicate our own unfounded assumptions and unclear ideas, and teach only what we understand at any given moment, and what is practical and helpful for our students. As “teachers” we can also take ourselves too seriously, causing us to becoming egotistical or inflated. This will create a barrier to our own learning. Rather than becoming attached to the idea that "I am a yoga teacher" or even "I am a yoga practitioner" (or any other set idea), an open mind includes the possibility that we've taken a turn in the wrong direction, and allows us to be free. It is through practice and honest observation of ourselves that we may come to this point by seeing clearly who we are and where we are.

I had taken courses from Zhander and Emma Balnaves for a couple of years before I began a more intensive course of study with them, traveling once or twice per year to study with them for 3 to 6 week periods. Out of the group of 25 international students I began this program with, only 9 were accepted into the 'teachers course" at the end of three years. This is because Zhander is more concerned with the state and progress of individuals than churning out 'teachers' who are unprepared. This shows great compassion, since it will prevent the young teacher from getting into more than they can handle, and will prevent the confusion and injury of the innocent people who would come to study with them.

Zhander brings a great deal of energy and attention to his teaching, and to those students he works with over the course of many years. From him I have learned that slowly through practice we reveal a mirror in which we can see ourselves; the way each of us approaches things and thinks and behaves. This allows each person to remain themselves, see who they are, how to respond accordingly, rather than following blindly along and mimicking what our teacher does. Likewise the teacher and student must have some trust and understanding between them. As Zhander has often said, if there is not trust or connection, it doesn't matter how good the teacher is, or how much you try: without a connection, the student won't get much.

As all of us who teach yoga know, it takes greater energy to care and engage with each student and correct things that are not right, than let the whole class glide by. Likewise, sometimes students are happier in class to not be corrected. I have had the experience while teaching of feeling tired, seeing something that is not quite right, and thinking "I could just let that slide." However, it is the responsibility of the teacher to understand a few things, and put forth diligent effort to focus and guide the student. As far as the student goes, it is their responsibility to pay attention, put forth diligent effort, and be receptive. I know from being a student that in the long run it is far more valuable to be corrected and helped even when it is hard work or painful at the time.

It is one thing to understand these concepts, and another to experience them and know them to be true through clear perception and testing them. This is true for all of yoga practice, and is the reason it takes time, patience, and practice to integrate and understand it. Until there is understanding, you must trust that it is not fruitful to take some of the practice out of context and mix it in with something else. The practice bears fruit when worked privately, on it's own, without a lot of fanfare. I was already teaching yoga when I met Zhander Remete, and was arrogant, young, and strong. I didn’t really understand what he was saying when he said "Less is More," and "Practice this for a few years and then we'll see." But I did recognize that he was knowledgeable, was not personally invested in what I did or didn't do, and cared deeply about the practice. So with trust in him I continued to teach what I knew at the time, while practicing and reassessing things in my own practice.

With yoga practice it is a mistake to rush anything, or teach anything you do not understand. Sometimes at first glance we believe we understand something, and it reveals itself later to be completely different. Sometimes practice shows us things about ourselves that we feel in the moment like we would rather not ever see, let alone allow anyone else to see. It is valuable to put your trust in a teacher and not teach or speak about something new, even if your ego suggests that you want to show off, or if your source of income seems to require you to entertain and inspire your students with new tricks. Taking time for ourselves to grow and understand will serve us in the long run. If we are patient, and allow knowledge to take root in us, it will grow and flower and give fruit with time. If we rush, we force the flower to bloom before it is time, and are fooling ourselves and left with nothing.

"In the mid-seventeenth century, Miyamoto Musashi, arguably the greatest martial artist in the history of Japan, wrote:

When you look at the world, the various arts have been tailored to be items for sale. Likewise, a person thinks of himself as something to be sold, and even the implements of these Ways are proferred as merchandise. This mentality divides the flower and the fruit into two and makes much less of the fruit than the flower. In this Way of the Martial Arts especially, form is made into ornament, the flower is forced into bloom, and the technique is made into display: one talks of this dojo or that dojo, teaching this Way or that Way, in an attempt to gain some benefit."

(Musashi quoted from The Demon's Sermon on the Martial Arts, Issai Chosanshi, translated by William Scott Wilson)

Although written centuries ago, one can see the similarity to yoga today, when the practice is made into a display, and one school or another school proclaims itself to be the best. As young teachers strive to make an income or distinguish themselves, they grasp at things they don't understand, and promote themselves as brands or items for sale, before they've integrated much wisdom.

Requirements for success in teaching, then, include: a connection with one’s own teacher, clear understanding of what is being taught and what you are teaching, and students who are open and willing to work on what is given. Beyond that, our fate, our natures, and the events of life may or may not provide us the space and opportunities to teach, so, again, it is wise to practice detachment from being this or that.

The suggestion that this practice should not be taught by those not trained in the Shadow Yoga School doesn't come from greed, arrogance, or pride. It comes from a respect for the practice and a sincere wish that it be conveyed in a safe, helpful and correct way. This would be to support individuals to evolve and adapt, without injury, misperception, confusion or fear.

I am grateful for the investment Zhander Remete has made in teaching, as well as the immense amount of work put into the Shadow Yoga practice, which he assimilated and put forth after decades of practice and investigation. It is a valuable contribution, and one that deserves respect and care in its transmission through others.

Please do not reproduce this article without permission; intellectual property of Lita Batho, August 2010

There's nothing more exhausting than having an enemy.

It's April, the trees are blossoming, and this can lead to love and all sorts of complications. I think it's time to revisit Sutra 1.33: the four brahmaviharas.

Although one’s yoga practice is a personal and individual matter, yoga is not a practice for only the ascetic removed from social connections. In fact, as you have surely experienced, it is through interaction with others that our serenity of mind is put to the test.

In Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, before any mention of the eight limbs (which include breath control, yoga postures, etc), Patanjali, in Sutra 1.33 suggests four steps to create a path toward one pointed, untroubled clarity of mind.

1. cultivate friendliness and goodwill towards happy, friendly people
2. cultivate compassion towards unhappy people
3. cultivate delight towards virtuous people
4. have compassion toward those who are not virtuous and are causing suffering

These four attitudes are called the four Brahmaviharas.

The first starts with being friendly towards those who are already our friends. Easy enough. However, this also acknowledges that we sometimes feel jealous of those who are happy or receive success. Instead, we might cultivate admiration and joy at the success of others.

The second of these suggests we not only develop compassion for those people who are not happy, but refrain from judgment, or from feeling superior because they are less fortunate or successful than we are. For instance, the misfortune of another might just as easily be ours, so instead of feeling superior, or grateful that we have dodged the bullet, reflect upon how easily we could be the person who is unhappy and suffering.

The third brahmavihara is to delight in those who are virtuous. We can rejoice that such people exist and emulate them. Keeping company with people you admire and respect can elevate your own behavior and outlook.

Lastly, and possibly the most difficult, is to have compassion towards people who are not virtuous, including those who have hurt you. A common response to feeling wronged, hurt, or mistreated is to harbor ill will, attempt to lift ourselves up by broadcasting the story of our mistreatment, to dwell upon the shortcomings of the person who has done us wrong, and consider them our enemy, or at least a bad person.

Patanjali here suggests that while it may be a stretch to actually Love our enemies, we can develop tolerance towards them. As Marshall Govindam says, “ Do not judge others. Nor should we disregard those who are suffering, but love them as well. Judging others only reinforces in our own minds the qualities that we are condemning. We generally condemn in others what we harbor in ourselves. The world is within us. To change the world, we change our thoughts. Overlook the lapses of others; do not dwell on their weaknesses. By dwelling on their weaknesses we transmit thoughts to them, which only reinforce their weaknesses."

Or, as Donna Farhi says in her book, Bringing Yoga to Life, The last brahmavihara, practicing impartiality or detachment toward those who have harmed us, is the black belt of all the brahmavihara. The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and to also love our enemies. GK Chesterson once famously added, “probably because they are generally the same people.” If we analyze the content of most of our meditative excursions, we may find them filled with dramatic reruns of arguments, standoffs, and criticisms of our perceived enemies. As the old saying goes, there is nothing more time consuming than having an enemy. We might notice a thorny resistance to changing our point of view because it is so satisfying to be right. Or we play the victim by showing our scars as proof of how badly we’ve been treated. Practicing the fourth bramavihara means we don’t have to hold on to the story and harbor ill-will toward another. By expounding upon the behavior of others, we fortify our ill will and encase ourselves in bitterness.

We can look at how we inflict suffering on ourselves and how we manufacture our own torment by failing to detach from things that we ultimately cannot change in another. Who is suffering when we hold on to these resentments and judgments? We are suffering ourselves. ….we all have it within us to behave in atrocious ways, given unfortunate circumstances. Without condoning the actions of others, by consciously recognizing the same potential in ourselves, and the same qualities, we can develop tolerance, and compassion towards even those who injure us.

Through practicing goodwill, equanimity, tolerance, and delight, we can break the habits of jealousy, judgment, resentment, and bitterness, which ultimately only sap our own energy, poison our happiness, and further disturb those around us.

By cultivating these four qualities, the mind becomes purified, and one-pointed serenity results.

Sutra 1.33 maitri karuna mudita upekshanam sukha duhka punya apunya vishayanam bhavanatah chitta prasadanam

• maitri = friendliness, pleasantness, lovingness

• karuna = compassion, mercy

• mudita = gladness, goodwill

• upekshanam = acceptance, equanimity, indifference, disregard, neutrality

• sukha = happy, comfortable, joyous

• duhka = pain, misery, suffering, sorrow

• punya = virtuous, meritorious, benevolent

• apunya = non-virtuous, vice, bad, wicked, evil, bad, demerit, non-meritorious,

• vishayanam = regarding those subjects, in relation to those objects

• bhavanatah = by cultivating habits, by constant reflection, developing attitude,

cultivating, impressing on oneself

• chitta = mind field, consciousness

• prasadanam = purified, clear, serene, pleasant, pacified, undisturbed, peaceful,

calm

Your life is wherever you place your attention.

The study linked to the title of this post assesses the way people of different ages use the internet. Basically, a lot.

It might be said that the internet allows us to tap into a cosmic consciousness, fueled and supported by all of us, albeit an electronically created one. I have heard that some pioneers of internet technology see it as a dream come true, if we could all leave our bodies behind, and somehow upload our consciousness into the ether. Doesn't this actually happen when we are, at times, absorbed in using the internet?

Yoga practice acknowledges that our body and breath are our vehicle to stay alive, and engage in this project of life. The apparent natural and built world around us is called Prakriti in yoga philosophy. Although in ordinary life we are occupied by day to day concerns and activities, through yoga practice we may get glimpses--or ultimately an unbroken awareness of-- the basis that underlies this changeable and fluctuating world in which we live, Purusha.

The internet is a world within that world of Prakriti. As the manifest world around us draws our attention from the source that underlies it all, the internet also draws our attention even further out, into a world within a world.

Consequently, the effect may be that excessive absorption in the external serves to deplete our vitality and our sense of center. Of course we would feel less grounded, if we spend a lot of time absorbed in the ether! Considering that the components of the internet necessarily seek to draw our attention for their own survival (who cares about a website that no one visits), they are most often driven to a certain extent by marketing, capitalism, and a desire for power, in the form of attention, prosperity, and gain.

Yoga practice seeks to reduce our complete occupation with the most apparent, physical world, by reducing greed related activity and impulses. Through moderation in all thing, including yoga practice but also eating, socializing, exercising, and whatever else we need and feel compelled to do, we can grasp the earthly world a bit more loosely, leaving room for awareness of other aspects of ourselves.

So while the internet is now essential to modern life, (and so convenient!) it's something to keep in mind: how much are you being drawn off center, or being absorbed in it, rather than feeling your own life experience and spending time being absorbed in that?

Like running: everything in moderation.