Where Is The Yoga
January 31, 2014 § 2 Comments
Wednesday morning I woke up from a dream about being back in Mysore. The scenes and people are different each time, but the essence, the spirit, remains the same. There is a familiarity, a sense of returning to a place that feels just right. A product of nostalgia? Sentimentality? Of choice images popping up in the Facebook news feed? Who knows.
On the way to practice I realized that this was the day of the week where the person I would least like to see would show up (our last encounter resulted in this post). And the vrttis began. My pulse picked up the pace, the story-telling machine kicked into gear, a sense of dread arose as I recalled the 1,001 reasons why I wish this person would stop coming to the studio. Mature, I know. So I began the practice carried on this wave of vrttis. Struggling, really struggling, to settle and focus into the practice. The environment was perfect: hot and humid, so my body was open and strong.
And yet: where was the yoga in all of it?
What is the point of doing the perfect (rhetorical perfect) sun salutation if your mind remains focused the subject of such strong aversions in you? I eventually realized that I was very much caught up in Huxley’s doors of perception, because really, the struggle I faced was the product of my own projections. The intensity of the aversion did dissipate as the asanas went by, but it’s still there. I guess dealing with this is my practice at the moment, and as long as this person keeps turning up every Wednesday I will have a chance to apply these tools of mind control, towards ekagrata.
Slowly, slowly, all is coming, right?