Being new to yoga, and I mean really new; only having practiced for a year and very inconsistently. I decided to go into Axis’s yoga teacher training program as a self-practice in hopes of it leading into a career change. I am seeking change in myself. I am seeking clarity and balance in my life. So, having the option to choose my first experiment I was immediately drawn to Tapas.
Tapasya in Sandskrit means “to burn”. My understandings for this particular Niyama in which I have chosen to experiment with was to observe habitual patterns in within myself and in my life that are not healthy, acknowledge them and change them. Burn them off. And/or restraining from these said desires will create a heat that I then must release through some yogic practice.
My tapas for many years has been drinking, partying and “following the crowd” so to speak. I never really had any self discipline, no regular bed-time; no particular guidance in my eating habits only the whole no carbs thing because you HAVE to be skinny in the entertainment world. I worked out to be fit, but only to fit in. I worked very hard in the production field but when it came down to knowing me and who I really was, I had done no work at all. I have been, for years so caught up in the social crowd, I was portraying this image of myself but underneath I had no foundation. As time went on I started to realize how vain and ugly the industry really was and most of all I was becoming one of “them”. I made the first conscious decision that I had made in a long time, and decided to take some time off. Being out of the industry for a full year now, I have moved around quite a bit trying to “find” clarity but instead….I partied! I thought “I can party, it’s not like I have a 7am call time, it’s not like I have to workout to be skinny any more, or eat healthy to be skinny anymore”. This wasn’t the soul searching I set out for. So, for my tapas I have decided to give up alcohol, partying, caffeine and red meat.
Refraining from all the things that have lead me into an unhealthy life style I decided to counter act with a morning routine; a fifteen minute asana practice, followed by fifteen minutes of pranayama (usually the eight Kriyas or a few variations) and fifteen minutes of meditation. My nightly routine would consist of fifteen minutes of meditation and nadi-sodinah before bed, followed by five minutes of belly breathing for cooling.
Day one was interesting. I woke up around 8:30am, which is very unusual for me because usually I’m hung over and sleep until noon. So this was good. I went for a run, but not so I can be skinny but so I can get the blood flowing and the juices going. I felt good! I got back from my run and I did fifteen minutes of asana, mostly sun salutations. And then I sat down comfortably to meditate. I did a few variations of the eight kriyas and started with OM. As the third OM came out of my mouth my mother’s 125lb Rottweiler, Bear came and jumped on my lap. I thought, “Don’t break your concentration, Hannah you are supposed to be meditating, he will go away”. He didn’t go away. I gave in and gave him a belly rub. I didn’t think of it as a fail, I just thought to myself “I’ll do mediation in my room tomorrow”.
I was really surprised with myself that I didn’t have much urge to drink. After work I usually hang out for a few beers, which turn into a few shots. Things were going well. In my morning meditation I even managed to be quiet and still for my fifteen minutes. Meditation is challenging for me. I’m not ever sure if I’m doing it right and my focus is usually pretty short, but on the days when I could bring myself back to my object I thought it was nice to be practicing and learning.
Through my tapas experiment I wanted to gain a routine and a sense of balance. If I could remove partying and drinking then I could have a nice morning practice before work and peace and quiet before bed. The first week was nice. I got up I did my morning practice, I went to work. At night it was nice going to sleep with a clear mind.
By the following Sunday I was confused. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be feeling or thinking. I hadn’t had any “aha moments”. I didn’t feel enlightened or powerful. I felt…normal-ish. I think I let the doubt take over and by Tuesday I hadn’t done my morning asana in three days. My mind became overwhelmed with daily stuff like getting to the bank and finding a place to live. I made excuses in my head, “oh well this is the only day to go to the bank and you can do it for thirty minutes tomorrow”. I was craving chocolate and Starburst and cupcakes. Wednesday, thirteen days after not drinking, no caffeine, no red meat or going out I said to myself “ you deserve a drink, you haven’t had one in thirteen days and well work is hard and you had a bad week with the bank and three doubles at work”. I did, I sat at the bar after work and I had two beers and two shots. FAIL! I felt like crap in the morning, I didn’t do my morning practice yet again. “This is what I’m talking about Hannah. What is it worth? Did you really have THAT much fun?” I thought to myself. The answer is NO.
I hadn’t done asana consistently and I had a night of drinking, I obviously am not doing this experiment to the best of my ability. Since that night I have had plenty more excuses not do my daily practice, and you know what they say about excuses?
Through this experiment I have learned to not judge myself so harshly. I have learned that being sober and quiet is good for my mind and my well being. I have had moments of clarity when I can think back to when I started drinking so much and the reason why it became so prevalent in my life. I have learned that drinking was masking feelings, the past and daily obstacles; I drank because I wanted to be numb of it all. Through my pranayama practice I now inhale light and peace and exhale black smoke that consists of the rubbish elements that I need to get rid of in order to cleanse.
Although I feel my tapas experiment was a fail, I am human and I am learning. It is hard giving up all the things that I am used to but it is the change that I want to see in myself. I will make room for my morning practice and stay consistent with my nightly practice. I will keep trying to be a better person, a better yogi and strive to love and help those around me with compassion and understanding.
Each student experiments with yogic principles throughout their journey in the Axis Yoga Teacher Training program. This student found valuable insight and personal progress through the application of the yama (observance), aparigraha (no-harm).
When we were first instructed to select a yama or niyama to cultivate throughout our first experiment, I found myself immediately drawn to the yama aparigraha. Aparigraha is often translated as “non-possessiveness, or refraining from hoarding,” and it involves a letting of greed, attachment, wanting, and the desire to own.[1] For me, this idea of non-possessiveness immediately conjured up images of the popular television show “Hoarders,” where the individuals featured found themselves literally drowning within clutter; their grasp around the material possessions overpowered their life to the point of paralyzation, and their inability to release said clutter lead them to alienation from family and friends. Material possessions can quickly become objects of control—such that we are constantly entrenched in a “keeping up with the Joneses” mentaltiy—and our inability to find release perpetuates a life of suffering.
Yet, to take this experiment deeper than merely cleaning out a closet, I found myself examining the things I have come to grasp tightly. Because aparigraha can also be translated as “non-coveting,” I challenged myself to seriously examine the ways in which I covet, control, and attempt to possess my body and my notions of body image. Like a hoarder, I have recently come to find myself controlled by an obsession with working out. After losing quite a bit of weight through a regimented exercise program, I have found myself enslaved to images on magazine covers, headlines on gossip tabloids, and self-perception of what I see in the mirror: a desire to possess the “perfect” thin body. What began as a kick off to fitness has quickly turned into a governing obsession with weight, clothing sizes, and caloric intake. Like the stars of “Hoarders,” I have found myself controlled by what I covet.
My absence of peace with my “own skin,” coupled with my worries and doubts of how others view my physical body, has lead me astray from the path of understanding who I truly am. I decided for this experiment that I needed to regain footing on that path, and that the best way for me to do this was through consistent sadhana practice, an asana practice that is intentional about quieting my mind’s fluctuations, and a critical examination of why I (and to some extent, my culture) value having an ideal body type. To implement these techniques, I used a mantra for sadhana, a deeper focus on my breath within asana, and conversations with friends (as well as journaling on my reflections) for my critical examination. Each provided valuable insight and progress within my aparigraha journey, and I am excited to share my results with you.
[1] https://singingheartyoga.blogspot.com/2011/02/aparigraha.html
I was given a mantra from the Ganapati Upanishad, “Om Gam Ganapataye Namah.” This mantra, a petition for the removal of obstacles blocking our path to success, is also invoked such that we can merge ourselves within Ganesha’s supreme knowledge and peace.[1] It was recommended that I use a mala to chant this mantra 108 times. At first, I did not understand the significance of this auspicious number—I thought, “Why 108? This seems awfully long and drawn out!” But after research, the significance of 108 repetitions helped to solidify my practice and draw forth meaning. Amongst other reasons, there are said to be 108 earthly desires within mortals, 108 human delusions or forms of ignorance, 108 energy lines converging to form the heart chakra, 108 feelings (with 36 related to the past, 36 to the present, and 36 to the future), 108 stages to the soul, and perhaps 108 paths to God.[2] Grounding myself in a consciousness that will (hopefully) lead to the elimination of duality began to help me understand my lack of true knowledge better. My attachment to my body—and not even just my physical appearance, but my body as a complete whole—proved to be a manifestation of my spiritual ignorance. As Rolf Gates writes in his book, Meditations from the Mat, “The fear that drives us away from ourselves is rooted in our spiritual ignorance—we do not know who we really are. If we did, we would realize that there is nothing to fear. We would know that we are everything we have always hoped we would be but never believed we could be.”[3] My sadhana practice proved to be a great starting point for understanding my connection to the divine; through this connection, I began to appreciate and respect my body rather than view it as inadequate.
[1] https://www.rudraksha-ratna.com/articledt.php?art_id=163
[2] https://swamij.com/108.htm
[3] Gates, p. 148.
Similarly, I was conscious throughout this experiment to remove any competition from my asana practice.[1] Rather than focusing on how amazing virabhadrasana II might make my triceps look if I held it for x number of minutes, I turned my attention to my breath and to the trueness of the postures. Additionally, instead of struggling to tuck my foot into the root of my upper thigh in vrksasana pose, I honored my body by keeping my foot against my shin. For some readers, these modifications would suggest that I never truly grasped the concept of yoga before. After this experiment, I do not think I would rebuke this observation. The competitive culture of corporate gyms taught me that yoga was what the beautiful people did to stay thin, and not the importance of the spiritually where this practice finds its roots.
[1] I have come to realize that I am my own biggest competitor… and yoga is NOT a competitive sport! I idealize the gross manifestation of postures without honoring where I am, in each present moment.
Last, my inquisition into the systemic perpetuations of “thin as beauty” led me to a place of introspection that I didn’t realize I had been avoiding. Many consumers are conscious of the “airbrush techniques” that lead models to thinner bodies and flawless skin, but we (women especially) forget this illusion of perfection when we are consistently surrounded by it in all forms of mass media.[1] For me personally, the perpetuation of thinness seems to have also stemmed from a lack of security in who I am as a person and how that person was in relationship with others. Upon reflection, I have come to see that the beginning of my fitness kick perhaps wasn’t ever purely just for health and wellness, but to make up for a lack of intimacy with a (now ex) partner. I victimized my body for the lack of connection, thinking “If only I was thinner than perhaps he would see me as more desirable.” Through hindsight—and this experiment—I have come to see that the problem was never really my body, but me forgetting who I am (a manifestation of the divine) and what it means to be me.
[1] This is not to say the problem does not effect men/boys as well. From a very young age, boys are taught—through action figures or cartoons—that men are to have bulging muscles. We can see this through the popular “Star Wars” action hero, Hans Solo (for example), who looked like a man of average build in the 1970’s but has suddenly steroid-ed out in his contemporary personification.
Aparigraha, specifically through not coveting an ideal body type, has taught me not to seek my validation within others but to look deep within myself and to understand who and what I truly am. I appreciated the overlap this experiment had with other yamas and niyamas (such as ahimsa, as it took a great deal of energy to not be violent toward myself with my thoughts; santosha, as I learned the importance of being content with my current fitness level—without negating the importance of striving for better health; or saucha, as I found an appreciation for my body through gentle cleansing techniques such as exfoliation) and the ways in which it taught me to prioritize how I spend my energy. Rather than spending all of my time obsessing about how many miles I will have to run to burn off that piece of birthday cake I just enjoyed, I began to consciously retrain my mind to appreciate the adequateness I bring here and now. Additionally, I appreciate that the teachings of yoga are veiled in contemporary society and accessible to those even outside the yoga path. A quote I found myself clinging to (on my long marathon training runs) reads, “It’s very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you will learn that the competition is with the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.” The little voice proves to be the ego, and yoga—specifically through the path of aparigraha and this experiment—continues to lead me the cessation of this mental modification.
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The Denver Yoga Underground began in 2003 at the request of dedicated students who wanted to study yoga as a holistic system. Over the years, a diversity of people, seeking education outside of a studio, found a welcome refuge in DYU.
Today we specialize in grassroots Pay What You Can workshops, accessible retreats and our signature yoga teacher training, for the outlier yogi.
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Derik Eselius ~ 720.934.6934
Training Location:
Sixth Ave. UCC 3250 E. 6th Ave