Remembering why

During yoga teacher training, my teacher Ivy emphasized that we must always remember why we are doing yoga in the first place. Why do you do yoga? We all must have a reason for coming to and continuing this practice. What’s yours?

All reasons are valid. The reasons are very important too, as they are what motivate us to keep showing up. Your reasons may be related to your body (becoming stronger, more flexible, more fit), your mind (becoming calmer, more focused), your spirit (coming to know/experience the Divine within and around you), or the greater community (uplifting the world around you). Again, all reasons are valid; they all serve a purpose, which is to keep us engaged with our practice. This is why we must remember our reasons; they keep us present and focused in a world where it is so easy to become distracted. Our reasons, which come from the intellect (buddhi), serve to harness and direct the chattering, wandering mind (manas). As we move forward, guided by the intellect, the intellect evolves and grows, and so our reasons shift; but still, our intellect stays in the lead.

I wrote that without buddhi in the lead, it is easy to become distracted. Let me offer an example. Let’s say that my reason for doing yoga is to make time for self-care, to care for my body and mind. I commit to weekly yoga classes. Now, let’s say that somehow, at some point, I become determined to improve my postures. I want my body to bend more, to look more like the pictures in yoga books and more like the others in my class. I examine myself practising in the mirror – do I look good? can I do better? I become so distracted by these thoughts, that I forget the whole point was to take care of myself, not to judge myself, or compete, or look “good.”

What distracts us most, I think, is appearances. What does my body/my practice look like? What do I want my practice to look like? We have some picture in our minds of an ‘ideal’ – an ideal body, an ideal yoga practice, an ideal home, an ideal life. These pictures may even be subconscious; we may not be fully aware of them.

Yoga philosophy teaches that everything has both an appearance or form and an underlying energy; one is gross, the other subtle. They go hand in hand, each shaping the other. Our senses and lower mind (manas) latch on to the appearance of things. But our buddhi, our discerning mind, can keep us tuned in to the underlying energy.

For example, here are three pictures of me standing in tāḍāsana (mountain pose). The posture – the gross appearance – is nearly the same, but the energy is different. Can you see the subtle differences in my body/my energy? Can you imagine the difference in my breath?

Yoga philosophy describes three underlying energies that govern all of creation:

  • rajas: activity, drive, movement towards some goal
  • sattva: balance, stability, ease, stillness, lightness
  • tamas: inertia, heaviness, decay

These three energies or qualities are called the guṇas. They are present in varying degrees in the photos above. I am standing still and mostly balanced in all three, so there is an element of sattva in each shot. In the first picture, we also see an underlying rajasic energy – a striving, a tightness, a rigidity. The second is more open, relaxed, light and balanced (sattva). And in the third, we see a trace of tamas – a heaviness, a weakness, or a giving up/letting go.

How about the mind? How do the guṇas appear in the mind? My teacher Sylvie explains it like this: The rajasic mind is driven, rigid, and anxious about the future; its thoughts revolve around “I want…” or “I need…” The sattvic mind is relaxed, clear, peaceful, content; its thought are variations of “I value…” And the tamasic mind is dispersed, fearful, and depressed about the past, repeating “I wish…” or “I fear…”

And the soul – how do the guṇas appear on this level? Well, it is said that the guṇas do not touch the soul. The soul is always blissful, always bright. But we do not always realize or feel this, especially when the body/mind is in the throes of rajas or tamas. A clear, sattvic mind is best able to reflect the light of the soul.

Coming back to where I started: Let us be clear and honest with ourselves about our reasons for practicing yoga. Let us remember our intentions every time we come to our practice. Also, yoga is by design meant to clear the restlessness of rajas, to lift the inertia of tamas, and to bring in the clarity of sattva. If this speaks to you, you can use this framework in setting your intentions. Through yoga, we can bring more sattva to our being and to our life. Yes – to our life! The sattva we cultivate in class, we need also to cultivate in our daily life. Tall, long spine – relaxed shoulders – open chest – soft smile – calm, clear, equanimous mind – these will serve us well all day long, every day!

This said, we should not judge ourselves harshly when we fall out of the balanced state of sattva. Rajas and tamas serve a purpose too. They help us to renew ourselves. Sattva all the time means no growth. We need tamas to slow us down or break down old routines, followed by rajas to take us to new heights. The gunas can help us to spiral upwards, to keep climbing. So we aim for sattva, but we don’t cling to it, or despair when we lose it. The problems come only when we get stuck in tamas or rajas – and this is where our yoga practice comes in so handy! It keeps bringing us back to sattva, one breath at a time.

I will finish with a short story. Once upon a time, in ancient India, there was a king who became concerned that the yogis and monks of the ashram were not adequately performing their practices and duties. He had heard reports of the monks feasting and sleeping all day; this did not look good! So, the king called for the head monk. The monk assured him that all was in order at the ashram and to prove this, he asked the king to accompany him the next morning at 3am. Their first visit was to the kings’ ministers. The monk instructed the king’s attendant to pour cold water over their sleeping heads; not surprisingly, the men awoke uttering curses and threats. The same happened at the royal stables, when the attendant poured water over the sleeping grooms. But at the ashram, the ambushed monks awoke with mantras, not curses, on their lips: Ram, Ram! Hari om! “You see,” said the monk, “the words reveal the contents of the heart and mind. The recent feasts were offerings to the local people, though the monks themselves prefer simple foods. O king, judge not people by their external acts. Look instead to their motives and attitudes.” The underlying energy of sattva is more important than the outward appearance of what we are doing; and the sattva we develop through our yoga practice can, with intention and regular practice, infuse every moment of every day.

Story adapted from: Inspiring Stories, by Swami Sivananda, published by The Divine Life Society, 1963