I’d recently heard that….” Most are more interested in the cure than the cause.” Which struck me as a noteworthy wisdom. This idea certainly comes up in conversations around health and medicine but also pertains to personal relationships.

Ever by-pass your role in a particular dynamic and fast forward to trying to change the “other”? Any parents out there? While this may be semi-satisfying in the moment, if the roots are not tended to, the pattern will likely repeat itself again.

Even after years of yoga training, I notice a tendency to want to rush in with an answer, or “solution” rather than to see and hear the multiple aspects of any issue. In many ways, yoga practice aids us to be less presumptive, more patient, and to perceive with greater depth.

In practice, this noteworthy wisdom looks like a movement of energy away from the alleged “cure” and recentering on the “cause”, a stepping stone towards greater realization and inner-freedom.

Devotion can be a charged notion, particularly if one has some unpleasant religious association with it. The yoga of devotion tells the story a little differently.

In my view, it is not so much a question of “if” one has faith and devotion, but rather, faith and devotion towards “what?” Institutions? Science? The phone? Family? Divinity?

As a yoga practice, devotion is a way of de-centering attention away from oneself–and all its finite assumptions–and placing it on a larger force or ideal, a greater cosmic order perhaps.

In yoga class, I often hear an invitation for everyone to “set your intention.”  In that moment, I sometimes yearn that we may unite our devotions towards a shared higher principle such as “Intrinsic-Love,” “Peace,” or “Acceptance.”  Maybe there is some singular and trusted-enough principle we can unite upon.

This tends to happen organically at the end of class, when there is a shared moment of silence, and is often the richest instant in class.  Why not share the connective spirit of the yoga of devotion at the beginning as well? United, behind one prayer.

Devotion, while not commonly given credence in many spaces, can magnify our connection to the deeper ethos of yoga.
 

I’ve been at this yoga project for a while, the river of yoga practice has ebbed and flowed its way over 34 years of life-terrain, touching gain, loss, heartache, moments of insight, flesh & blood, and clear stillness; meandering towards a greater ocean, somewhere on the other side of present mountains.

The practice evolves with time; as ecology evolves; as culture evolves; as insight matures; and our role changes. Thankfully, there are many methods to support us in these changes.  Still, the actual experience of yoga itself is timeless. “Yoga is as old as human heart” as Babji would say.

The practices are a means to a greater end, that sounds something like: deep harmony, right-relationship, and even revelation. Over the decades, here have been times when I’ve mistaken means for ends, clung to rout-methodology and forgot the larger purpose or spirited-connection to yoga.

Looking back, over the decades, and the many yoga teacher trainings, these barren moments seem strangely necessary. Then come the cool rains of grace, perhaps at an unexpected moment, that revive the deeper spirit of why we practice at all.

Back in the early 90’s, when I first went to yoga classes, the practice was closely associated with “discipline.” People talked about “discipline” the same way we talk about “inclusion” or “trauma sensitivity” now. Long before prevalent teacher training, the yoga of discipline was in the air of practice.

Discipline is an essential aspect of what the yogis call “Tapas.” Tapas are the creative friction that arises when going (a bit) against the grain of impulses; it gives rise to generative heat that opens new possibilities and develops one’s character.

Tending to the fire of transformation is tapas.  

circle of tapas, sustained effort

However, some habits seem quite stubborn and we may like the idea of “I will meditate every morning” but it remains elusive. I have my own fantasized version of a disciplined-self that does not parallel the reality of my behaviors. Sound familiar?

Here is a rewarding middle option. Practice “micro-disciplines” in the moment. Notice moments in your day when you can choose your higher virtue. Sacrifice a bit of comfort in the moment and nudge your way into a more fulfilling direction one small and simple choice at a time. I invite you to experiment with this in your day to day decisions.

Here’s a fun question…. What is your go-to yogic teachings “off the mat”?  

A few come to mind: “patience”, “acceptance”–that’s a big one–or “giving of oneself”, all of which read nice on paper and can be much more difficult to put into practice.

Genuine yoga practice is something we live into rather than something to “do.”  

Layer by layer yoga reveals hidden and not so hidden tendencies and invites to apply the principles of “patience”, “acceptance” and so forth to living circumstances.

Overtime, leaving no stone is left unturned.

Baba Hari Dass used to say “climbing is hard and slipping is easy.”  It takes a bit of determination to live into one’s higher virtues, to apply yogic teachings in daily life.  But the alternative also comes with its price.

So, what is your go-to yoga practice off the mat?

Perhaps you’ve heard Patañjali’s quintessential definition of yoga? I captures the essence of yoga.

It’s quite simple, and simultaneously vast; two signature features of wisdom.
 

“Yoga is the stilling of all thought.”
 

This definition probably conjures more questions than answers and invites us to reconsider our mental space…. what are thoughts anyway?

Patañjali goes on to assert that the mind occupies the surface of our being, vailing our essential nature. 

Who would we be in the absence of  thoughts and opinions about self and “others”?
How does one still the mind?
And why would we want to do such a thing anyway? 

More questions….

On a practical level, I invite us to consider the mutable nature of thought, how it can seem so dense, habituated and convincing at times and simultaneously amorphous, shifting and changing in every moment.

Sometimes the mental story is caked with adversity and sometimes it is not.  Yoga is the process by which we can come to terms with our particular narratives, create a bit of space, and draw closer to our essential nature.

Have you ever felt stuck in your own thinking? Unable to see past assumptions? Out of touch with the yoga of insight and pretty convinced you have the answer, and yet a small voice might remind you that there are limitless perspectives?

I suspect this is true for most of us.

In many ways, yoga practice breaks us out of the trance of our own thinking and invites us into a deeper view; to see beyond our particular self-interest and rest into something we might call wisdom.

Sounds kind of nice, right?
“How” you might ask? 

The answer is not very glamorous.  

As my root teacher Baba Hari Dass would often say, “Regular practice.”  Most find this challenging, but is nonetheless essential.  

Perhaps regular practice could look like 10 conscious breaths every time you park your vehicle, daily morning meditation, a class you can consistently go to. Swapping 10 minutes of scrolling for 10 minutes of legs up the wall. Or  a structured program could be helpful.

What may seem like an insurmountable mountain of resistance may just be a fleeting and wispy cloud through the sky of the mind, vailing the sun on the other side. The sun is perennially there, though ingrained assumptions could be blocking its light.

Yours In the Spirit & Service of Yoga,
Derik E.

In many respects, yoga teacher training is a journey into the unknown.  People may anticipate a training for years and contemplate what it will be like. They consider how it will enrich their practice and what it would be like to teach yoga.  Students anticipate how their body will become more open, or the benefit of added mental serenity. These are the easy and obvious things to imagine.  People are less likely to consider the additional yoga teacher training assignments that accompany a program. And how it will impact their life outside of the studio space.

Outside study often looks like: reading assignments, written reflections (papers), lifestyle changes, student teaching exercises, or to develop a daily meditation practice.  This list of activities may simultaneously look inviting and intimidating.

One one level, we appreciate that each of these activities will help us to embody yoga.  On another level, it might bring up insecurity about how or when you will be able to complete the exercises.  In part, this is why people sign up for more advanced yoga training, they want to overcome resistance, be accountable, receive guidance and forge a new destiny.

“They want to overcome resistance, be accountable, receive guidance and forge a new destiny.”

Additional yoga teacher training assignments bridge the gap between formal study in the studio space and daily life.  Yoga is a universal method to cultivate inner peace and to achieve greater outer harmony.  All life circumstances provide an opportunity to practice yoga, not just formal time on the mat

Yoga teacher training comes in a variety of formats.  Some are presented as concentrated, residential, month long formats. It will be easier to complete assignments in this format, there will be fewer distractions. Others (like DYU’s program) are engineered for a typical working person with a couple of kids.Yoga training often generates a natural passion to live a more conscious life and people embrace additional yoga teacher training assignments as part of that process. I invite you to embrace all that a program has to offer and also recognize that there will be additional demands on your time beyond formal classroom content.  Ultimately, this is a core reason to sign up for yoga training.

As part of Denver Yoga Underground’s yoga teacher training, students are required to attend five classes outside of the formal program.  They then submit a written reflection on their experience.  Here is an example of the process, this student learned to become a better yoga teacher through observation.

In total, I attended three Vinyasa yoga classes, one Iyengar yoga class and a Hot Power Yoga class. Overall, I learned that a clear theme for a class is essential as is the teacher’s use of language.

For the purposes of this exercise, I took a wide range of classes including a “goat yoga” class. The goats freely interacted with students during the class. The teacher renamed poses like downward goat instead of downward dog, which complemented the theme. The pace of the class was slower to allow time for a goat to crawl onto or off of a person. The class was silly and fun however I would not go there to learn about the deeper meaning of yoga.  It felt more like a visit to the county fair with some “yoga poses” mixed in. It was more amusing than enlightening.

It felt more like a visit to the county fair
with some “yoga poses” mixed in.

The goat class had a clear intent, to generate a novel experience.  Other classes presented an odd mixture of unrelated intentions. I most appreciated classes that stayed within the parameters of their stated theme.  The Iyengar yoga class I attended had a clearly defined theme. This was the first time I participated in a class deconstructed a single pose with such detail. As a prospective yoga teacher, I was reminded of the many ways people can hone in on their craft.

The theme of a class, and the quality of instruction can either make one feel grounded or disoriented.  Yoga is a potent medicine. I can even create a new destiny.   Most of the time the result is positive however if the medicine is used in the wrong way, it can make someone anxious or imbalanced.

Yoga is a potent medicine.

Through this exercise, I learned the importance of language as a yoga teacher, how to pace a class, and why it is essential to have a clear theme. Overall, I learned to be a better yoga teacher through observation.