One plate at a time

When I was working at the University of Nevada Reno, beginning as a yoga teacher, and trying to make time for my family I often felt like a circus performer: specifically, the one running back and forth among numerous long poles with ceramic plates spinning on the tips (image from wikimedia Commons). I felt like I was constantly dashing between 'plates' and giving the pole supporting them a spin in order to keep that part of my life from crashing down. One lapse of attention, or one moment too long with any one task would mean crisis somewhere else. The only way to keep all the plates in the air was to be mentally one or two steps ahead of what I was actually working on.

At the time I thought it was the external demands upon me that created the situation (too many projects at work, too little help around the house, too little time for self-care, etc.). Now I know that, like so many other circumstances in life, it is something I created all by myself. Even now with my simplified and supposedly mindful lifestyle I find I jump from one task to another without finishing things. I think this is a fairly common state of existence for all of us. We all have a multitude of responsibilities and desires that we need to balance, and we often feel the need to multitask: we start planning the next activity before we've finished what we're currently doing, or we literally have two or three activities on the go at once. We feel as though this is the only way we will be able to get everything done. Ironically this pattern of thought and behavior undermines both our ability to complete tasks and the quality of the results.

There are five levels of mental activity described in Yoga philosophy. In Sanskrit these are ksipta, mudha, viksipta, ekagrata and nirodha. Ksipta describes the frantic, undirected, unfocused and compulsive movement of our minds and actions from one place to another. It's like a monkey swinging through the trees, never lighting anywhere for long. Mudha is a place of inertia and dullness; you may have experienced this mental paralysis and indecision when the pressure of balancing many tasks becomes overwhelming. Viksipta is the state we spend most of our time in - mind in motion, but without consistent purpose and fraught with doubt and uncertainty as we try to fulfill all our responsibilities.

When we skip from task to task or think about one thing while doing another we perpetuate the three lower states of mind, swinging between frantic, ineffectual activity and inertia. However, if we mindfully focus on one task or thought we can bring the mind toward the two higher states and complete the task more effectively. Ekagrata can be described as single-minded focus: we have a direction and we can keep our attention on it. The culmination of ekagrata is nirodha, becoming so absorbed in the focus of attention that nothing else exists. Do you remember a time when you were able to focus your attention on one task to the exclusion of all distractions? Do you remember a sense of time standing still, of peace and contentment, and of deep satisfaction when the task was finished? No matter what the activity was, you were practicing yoga at that moment. Sutra 1.2 says 'yoga citta vrtti nirodha'. This means yoga is when the mind's activity is completely focused in one direction.

The creative process is a good example of single-minded focus leading to total absorption. This weekend I set aside my many other tasks and devoted myself to creating a dragon jack-o-lantern for my middle son. Despite the many other tasks I had on my 'to-do' list I cleared some space and sat down to carve. 90 minutes later I felt refreshed, satisfied and content, and I'd successfully completed the task I set for myself. This experience made me resolve to approach all my tasks, whatever they may be, one at a time with single minded focus.

Creating artwork or practicing Vinyasa yoga are natural ways for me to work with the concepts of ekagrata and nirodha, but the principles could equally apply to any and all activities we undertake. Ecclesiastes 9:10 says, 'Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might'; this to me is ekagrata. My intention for this week is to approach all my tasks, mundane or sublime, as a practice of Yoga.

With that in mind, I am on my way to clean my closet (from start to finish) with all my might.

'Happiness is Being...'

With three kids aged 2, 5, and 8 I rarely get much time to myself. This week though, my husband's parents kindly hosted my littlest one for a few days of grandparent time. This meant that for the first time in quite a few years I had a few hours to myself during the day when the baby's older brothers were at school.

Don't get me wrong; I adore my kids and love their company. But, it has been utterly amazing to be able to attend yoga classes as a student, and not once but twice in the last three days! On top of that, Reno's weather has been at its glorious, sunny and sparkling autumn best the past few days. I fairly floated out of class on Monday morning (my first time as a student in I don't know how long), blissed-out on the practice and the weather, the prospect of spending the afternoon harvesting our garden's abundance and the pure deliciousness of my experiences. I thought to myself, "wouldn't it be great to feel this happy all the time?"

And then that thought made me pause. It would be great to be so happy and content all the time, but the implication was that the happiness was triggered by my experiences. This made me wonder whether I could be plummeted into the depths of despair by circumstances just as easily as I was buoyed to the heights of joy, and I realized that without mindful attention that can easily happen. I was also reminded that one of the great gifts of Yoga practice is that we are able to dispel the illusion that our happiness and contentment is dependent on external sources (what's happening in our lives, what other people think, what we have or don't have).

I began to think about the concept of 'equanimity'. I t seems that this term is sometimes interpreted as ambivalence or even stoicism, but in my mind it's more than that; its an ability to embrace all experiences from a clear perception of our true (blissful) nature. The following quotation from Nischala Joy Devi's wonderful translation of the Yoga Sutras ('The Secret Power of Yoga') sums things up very well:

sutra 1.33: To preserve openness of heart and calmness of mind, nurture these attitudes: kindness to those who are happy, compassion for those who are less fortunate, honor for those who embody noble qualities, and equanimity to those whose actions oppose your values.

When we consciously cultivate balance and connect with our true nature, the circumstances don't cause us to bob up and down on a wave of emotions. Sutras 1.34-1.39 give some ways to cultivate unconditional peace and happiness. We can focus on an easeful exhalation, focus on an object we find inspiring, or cultivate devotion. We can focus on the divine qualities of a great soul, or remember a peaceful feeling from a previous experience and cultivate that. You can (again these are Nischala Joy Devi's words) 'dedicate yourself to anything that elevates and embraces your heart'

So many of us equate happiness to what we are, where we are, what we have. Think of all the license plate holders that bear slogans like 'happiness is... being a grandmother'. 'happiness is... being Norwegian'. 'Happiness is... being in Hawaii'. All conditional. I have seen one of these plate holders that I did agree with, and when I pulled up behind this car at a red light a few months ago I almost laughed out loud with delight.

The plate holder simply said, " Happiness is... Being'.

I'll remember that.

Art and Soul

OK, I know it's not perhaps the most original name for a blog, but as I drove home from a beautiful morning Asana class at my favorite studio it crossed my mind that this phrase sums up what I do pretty well. Art, soulfulness, and even spirituality reside in both the creative process of mehndi and in the practice of Yoga Vinyasa. Connecting with others through henna application or teaching yoga multiplies and radiates those qualities a hundredfold.

It's interesting in hindsight to observe what has happened in my own soul through the course of the career decisions I've made. At one time I was passionate about ecology - understanding the complex interactions of the natural world. However, as I followed the logical progression from undergraduate student to graduate student to post-doctoral fellow, I became more and more disillusioned and eventually walked away from science. I still love ecology, the natural world, and the complexity of interactions; that is not the reason I left. Plain and simple, I decided the lifestyle of an academic was not for me.

I found that I could not happily devote the time and energy expected of an academic at the bottom of the totem pole. I was tired of all the lab and departmental politics and other stuff that gets in the way of doing science, I was tired of 'constructive criticism' (a necessary process but one which deteriorates into just plain criticism all to often), and I was tired of putting what I love (family, art, yoga) on the back burner in order to compete for jobs and funds with people who loved their work so much that this didn't seem like a sacrifice to them. After pretending my way through the last year of my post-doctoral appointment I finally did openly what I'd been doing subconsciously for many months: I handed my unfinished manuscripts and raw data over to my supervisor and started something new. With fear, excitement and a bit of guilt at laying our family's financial security squarely on my husband's shoulders, I completely changed careers.

Striking out first as a professional yoga instructor and then as a mehndi artist made me realize that part of what had made me so unhappy as an academic was that I had stopped doing the things that I used to do for creative expression. A scholar with a young family doesn't have the time to do things like sing in a choir, sew, paint, draw, sculpt etc. It's about all you can do to get a bare minimum of tasks done at work, get food on the table, and sometimes do some laundry (the laundry is last priority though). When I made the space in my life to pursue creative avenues I realized how much I had missed it! I experienced in a profound way the connection between art and soul. When you add to this connection the additional dimension of teaching or sharing (to receptive and appreciative recipients no less) something almost magical happens. I can now not imagine any other sort of career.

Now and then I still get the sense of being trapped where I am or feel like I am just going through the motions. Financial fears, doubts about the value of my work or my skills as a yoga instructor surface periodically. I still have trouble finding time to do the laundry. I sometimes feel I was an idiot to throw away 10 years of education. But, if I have the discipline to sit down and create something, or to get on my mat and move/breathe/meditate, I re-discover the conviction that I'm on the right path. Something about the art of creative expression and the soul of yoga practice clears away my distorted expectations and I find the space to be myself and to meet others as themselves.