yoga pirate…











{November 2, 2009}   turning myself inside out…

what is “real yoga?”  right now many yoga blogs are investigating, some with a degree of snarkiness, where  western yoga is going…the commercialization, even patenting, of this ancient art is under suspicion.  why return to the mat?  is it for an abdominal six pack ? so one can wear the cool clothing that shows off the body?

Vyaas Houston writes for the american sanskrit institute:

“There’s nothing inherent in a Sanskrit mantra or a yoga posture that’s liberating. It’s only yoga when the real definition of yoga is having an impact on the experience of the mantra or posture and each of these becomes a new type of experience, a progressively purer experience, freer from the intrusions of identity hoping for a good result, or fearing that it will not be reached.” suffering all comes from attachment and seems to be a validation of the mantra “what about me?”

sakyong mipham rinpoche even  reports he says this mantra all day long…he is the lama who holds the shambala lineage who gave me my dharma name “egoless dancer.”  i can only dream  that one day i will be able to live up to this blessing.  if he repeats this narcissistic line then where does that leave me in my puny life?

in the yoga of simplicity article in Yoga + magazine by Nancy Francis she says

“We all think that the thing we desire will give us a sense of satisfaction or wholeness. But I have learned that inner peace is a function of how I manage my mind, which points me toward staying healthy and doing spiritual practice. Nothing external, whether it’s a new possession, a stock portfolio, or a child, is going to bring me inner peace.”

daily i reach for happiness in wanting the next sweater from anthropologie, the next cigarette (yes, for three years back in the day i used to smoke a few), the next warm, sunny day (i hate winter) to be happy. even buying my dream home last year didn’t  bring lasting peace like i thought it would.  i spend  my days reaching for that elusive high  in that which is external to reach that internal, eternal contentment.  as you know, ultimately it doesn’t work.  maybe for a brief moment it does seem that way but i find myself empty again until i can get to my mat or my zafu and remember my breath.

am i observing myself  when doing my daily walk through life that could be a walking meditation?  i do yoga for personal transformation not a yoga butt.  linda over here said, “What does it all come down to? Yoga to turn myself or someone [as a teacher] inside out and back again is where the rubber meets the road for me.”

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