“Wise Use of Energy” Introduction

The primary question I had regarding this experiment was how brahmacharya could be practiced by yogis in the context of a married relationship.  Although celibacy is certainly an option for married couples, it does not seem conducive to a more loving union, nor do I think it is a moral prerequisite for practicing brahmacharya.  I feel that it is important to make an attempt in understanding the context in which Patanjali authored his aphorisms in order to understand this yama.  It may also be important to investigate how the historical-cultural context of the Yoga Sutras, relate to contemporary western society. 

Another matter of investigation is the universality of the Yoga Sutras.  Many religious texts claim universality and timelessness in their teachings, yet they are colored with the culture and historical context in which they were born.  I feel that Atha yoganusasanam must always emphasize the “now” to ensure the relevance of the text to our embodied experience.  Therefore, forming a definition of brahmacharya is more than simply taking the transliteration “celibacy” as the only way to investigate this essential yama.  Fortunately, I discovered that well respected yogis have enumerated upon brahmacharya from an integral perspective of ashtanga (e.g. B.K.S. Iyengar, Desikachar, Michael Stone).  In simple terms, this means that brahmacharya is essentially about the wise use of energy and control of the senses.  These explanations helped me develop ideas for the experiment which, inevitably, required the consent and creative cooperation with my wife.

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“Wise Use of Energy” Experiment

The question we have chosen to pose as the basis for our experiment begins with the definition of brahmacharya as the “wise use of energy” in the context of marriage.  The hypothesis we developed is, “If we practice mindfulness within our relationship (which includes creating a spiritual intention for shared space, time, intimacy/sexuality) and apply principles of chastity in the sense of purity, specifically purity of intention through mindful lovingness, then we will experience a deeper connection to the divine through mutual shared and selfless devotion to God within our relationship”. 

One key text in constructing this hypothesis was Desikachar’s Heart of Yoga which distills the yama of bramahcharya in the following way; “Brahmacharya suggests that we should form relationships that foster our understanding of the highest truths… it means responsible behavior with respect to our goal of moving toward the truth.”  B.K.S. Iyengar also points out in several of his writings that the householder (grihastha) is just as much capable of being a brahmacharya as the celibate monk.  I know this from previous life experience when I lived a monastic lifestyle for two years in an ashram in Fresno, California.  During that time I observed myself consumed with egotistical thoughts and attachment to the forms of brahmacharya.  As a married person, I have learned that in many ways my spouse is a mirror to my movements away from God.  Through this relationship I am frequently reminded of my own avidya and this causes me to reexamine the path.

As the both of us took on this effort to be specific in our observation of brahmacharya (along with the other yamas and niyamas), it became very clear that we need to adjust several environmental factors in our home and external relationships.  We have always been a spiritually minded couple, but at times this has itself become an attachment as we have opened our home to numerous guests and rarely have time with just each other and to ourselves.  Consequently, when we are afforded time together, we are often too exhausted to be truly intimate.  Baba Hari Das emphasized that married couples must become one, and therefore intimacy is an important part of this union.  Both of us have spent most of our creative energy in other areas of our lives.  This experiment brought us together on the issue of the wise use of energy and it resulted in an increase in awareness to the “energy drains” on our lives including housekeeping, organization of time, personal relationships outside of the marriage, and work.  Additionally, we realized that in order to participate in the act of mindful intimacy and lovingness, we needed to unencumber our minds with worldly concerns, worries and barriers.  Further, we tended to “unfinished” business and projects within our home, essentially clearing stagnant energy while tending to our “bedroom” space.   Through the commitment of attending yoga classes together, reading discussing and planning our spiritual growth both individually and as a couple, we have increased our participation in each other’s lives on a spiritual and physical level.  To deepen this connection through the application of the experiment, we have taken greater steps towards building a more sustainable spiritual and emotional lifestyle.   In terms of the actual application of practicing moderation and chastity within the relationship, I believe that we are still working towards what that might look like as we continue to develop from within.  We have definitely increased our discussions around our sexual practices, present levels of emotional intimacy, spiritual connection to one another & God, and our intentions for our relationship on a day-to-day basis.

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“Wise Use of Energy” Reflections

I have increasingly become aware of my intentions toward preserving my energy to be directed toward “movement in Brahman.” I began working to create a sacred space for intimacy and prayer. Prior to this experiment, most of my energy in the household was geared toward guests and the “public” parts of our home. I was moved to direct that energy toward my marriage union by taking on unfinished projects in our bedroom and the upstairs (our space in the home). I felt a shift in energy which was very refreshing. Instead of “dropping dead” on the bed at the end of the day, there has been a warmness and sense of rejuvenation in the evening and morning. This has had an immediate effect on my asana and pranayama practice and I know it is directly related to the intentions created through the change of intention through brahmacharya. There is still much more to do through this yama, but I feel that both of us are awakening to the power of these yogic intentions.

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Yoga Student Experminent with Truth

As part of Axis Yoga’s teacher training, students are invited to spend some time applying one of several yogic principles to their daily lives. Students reference principles such as non-harming and truthfulness as they relate to the practice of yoga. In the following paper, one student explores her understanding of truthfulness. She explores how truthfulness relates to her experience as a cyclist on the road as well as in her work as a paraprofessional at an elementary school. Her experiment leads to an expansion of her definition and understanding of the concept of living truthfully.

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Exploring Truth: Introduction

A few days after I made a commitment to implement satya, truth, into my daily life, I found that I’d slowed down my speech and made a greater effort to actively listen to my interlocutor. I thought that maybe I’d continue in this vein, but over the next two weeks, satya seemed to sneak up on me in forms that I had not anticipated. I began to refine my understanding of the Yama, and to explore more deeply various relationships through the lens of satya. I noticed a consistent struggle with the concept of satya in two relationships in particular: my relationship with my work environment and my relationship as a bicyclist with motorists on the road. Because satya has taken on personal meaning for me, I’ll first describe how I have interpreted it in my daily life, and then I’ll offer two examples that demonstrate how satya has transformed how I work in my job and how I ride my bike.

Satya is the second Yama. According to T.K.V. Desikachar, “yama” can mean more than simply an ethical precept. It can mean “a ‘discipline’ or ‘restraints,’” and Desikachar further suggests, an “‘attitude’ or ‘behavior’” (98). In particular, the Yamas refer to an attitude we adopt toward others: in this way, Satya confronts language, communication, and the ego in the tricky process of interacting with the world.

My colleagues and I had discussed in our initial meeting what satya means and our own understandings of how it might apply to us: why did we choose this Yama? My struggle with truth manifests itself overtly: often, it is obvious that I am not telling the truth. I hyperbolize, overstate, stretch, bend, and spin what would otherwise be true. We agreed to ponder the question: What is my motivation for non-truth? When and where does it happen? I hypothesized that I exaggerate for social reasons – for humor or shock value for example – in order to augment others’ perceptions of me. Through this experiment, I realized that also commit non-truth by omitting the truth.

In my process of examining satya, I began to consider the space that non-truth occupies. I find it useful to use the words “fabrication” and “omission” to describe that space. A fabrication is the creation of something that was not already there: for one who lies about the world her or she lives in, fabrication creates distance between the self and the world – between the subject and the object – the same subject-object distance that Derik described during his discussion of ahimsa. In his discussion of satya, B. K. S. Iyengar offers the following analogy, “as fire burns impurities and refines gold, so the fire of truth cleanses the yogi and burns up the dross in him” (33). Non-truth is rubbish. It is extra. I will examine my relationship as a bicyclist with motorists on the road from this perspective of fabrication.

Satya, as a restraint, means to control and limit non-truth. As I discussed, this can mean to refrain from amplifying the truth. It also implicates truth that should be spoken, but it not: omission, the negative space that non-truth occupies. I will examine my relationship with my work environment from the perspective of omission.

Non-truth, lies, fabrications, and omission prevent the subject from being fully present in the world. Satya asks the practitioner to confront the world.

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Exploring Truth on the Road

 Lately I have begun to feel that my role as a bicyclist is also that of a diplomat: I ride my bike to demonstrate to others that it is accessible. I also represent the bicycling community to motorists on the road – more and more, I view it as my responsibility to represent that bicyclists deserve a space on the road. 

I was riding my bike home from work, and reflecting on an incident that had happened on my morning commute. Seven hours later, I replay the events in my mind like so: My water bottle had been ejected from my bike when I rode over a sudden bump while traveling on Evans over Santa Fe. The water bottle tumbled onto the street in front of a car waiting anxiously for the light to change. I dashed off my bike to retrieve the bottle when the light changed. I’d become an obstacle in the road during the morning rush to work, and as I made eye contact with the woman in the anxious car she threw her hands off the wheel into the air, flailing with exasperation and sighing her frustration. She honked her horn, and … and I notice that I’ve ceased to replay the event. I’ve begun, instead, to recreate and author the event in preparation of sharing my outrage with my roommate, boyfriend, and fellow bike-commuter, Michael. So, in observance of satya, I pause in my storytelling to consider what might actually be going on.

The incident of my water bottle falling on the street confronts me as I communicate – though intention or action – with the people with whom I share the road. I often expect that drivers will be annoyed by my presence on a bike, and while this can help keep me safe, it also creates a sense of competition (that exists maybe only in my mind) between motorists and myself. This attitude also casts me as a victim: it says, how difficult it is to be a cyclist! I frequently receive surprise and praise for my (seeming) dedication to commuting by bicycle. This reminds me that the concept and the action of riding a bicycle are difficult for some people. Although most days I am happy to ride my bike, I sometimes feel that it is difficult for me too. By amplifying my interactions with motorists, I victimize myself and validate other’s suspicion that bicycling is a difficult choice of transportation – neither of which I believe! This sort of exaggeration also contradicts my desire to demonstrate that bicycling is accessible and, maybe, not as tough as it might seem. It is possible, furthermore, that if I anticipate that motorists will treat me with respect, and confront them and their steely vehicles as such, I will be treated in kind.

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Exploring Truth on the Playground

Violent Words and Children

I am in charge of monitoring lunch recess for first, second, and third graders. For part of the time, a teacher who has worked at the school for about a decade accompanies me on the playground. In the hierarchal system of power at the school, I, as a new employee and a paraprofessional (which means I work “next to” professionals, ha.) am at the bottom of the hierarchy. I have little power. Only the students occupy a place below me on this scale. 

My playground colleague likes to exercise her power over the students with a megaphone: the playground is large and she needs to project her voice across the expanse of monkey bars, slides, swings, and grass. We are required to carry a megaphone, and I try to use mine sparingly. The playground rules are logical and have been designed to minimize risk to students’ well being as well as to minimize risk to the school as an institution – to reduce liability. These rules, I believe, should be implemented on a case-by case basis. One loan student jogging across the blacktop to the grass, for example, does not constitute a punishment while a group of students racing and chasing on the blacktop do.

My colleague waits for the students to burst through the doors with her megaphone in hand, raised and ready for action. She is ready as soon as the students arrive. She spends thirty minutes barking commands, “Don’t run!” “Don’t push!” and exclamations of outrage, “There is no running on this playground!” “What do you think you’re doing!?” Her language is abrasive both in content and in its aural quality.

I believe that students should be given the opportunity to correct a minor infraction without punishment – to choose to follow the rules – and that, as people, should be treated with kindness and respect. The character of the lunch recess is such that students are releasing the repressed energy and frustration that a classroom environment can create.

In the staff room, the same teacher often makes inappropriate comments about students, “Keith was probably dropped on his head. That kid can’t do anything right.” My usual response to such a statement is to offer a technique that works with that student and to give an example of something good the student can do. This, however, is ineffective and indirect.

I want to confront this teacher more honestly, by saying what I’m not: I want to tell her that her attitude and voice affect kids so dramatically that they hate her class. I want to offer her different language. Instead of “Quit breaking the rules!” “Students who can follow the rules are welcome to play the game.”

I’m currently working on a solution…

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Exploring Truth: Conclusion

I knew that I struggled with exaggeration, but the process of this experiment has challenged something I hadn’t acknowledged: that I often hold back and omit the truth, and that in doing so I limit my capacity to truthfully confront the people I am surround by and myself as a result. Satya has been an opportunity for me to examine my attitude towards the world I live in: to examine my mental projections and compare my perception and emotional experience of an event with what is happening outside of me. I have become more conscious of the subtle role of honesty in my daily interactions. I have uncovered more work to be done.

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Yoga Student Experiment: Peace with People

As part of Axis Yoga’s teacher training, students take their yoga off the mat by applying yogic principles to daily life.  Students reference principles such as non-harming and truthfullness as they relate to the practice of yoga. In the following paper, one student explores how to develop patience for people she perceives as inconsiderate and annoying. She reflects on her own bias and judgement around others and sees how her attitude effects her experience.

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Peace with People: Introduction

Yama: Ahimsa—non-harming, kindness. My definition for the experiment was more focused on patience, goodwill, and respect for people who annoy me.

Main Issue—Thoughtless People: I don’t physically harm people, but I certainly feel impatience and disdain for those who are inconsiderate about the impact of their actions on the people around them. It almost seems that people are sometimes fully oblivious to the fact that they do not live in a bubble and that their actions can negatively affect the other people/animals/etc. who share this earth with them. My reaction to thoughtless people is twofold, neither of which is particularly helpful: harming myself (getting fiercely angry and stressed because there is no solution/recourse to the insensitive person’s actions) or harming the perpetrator by way of verbal condescension.

Goal: I wanted to understand better why people act the way they do—the true nature or impetus behind their actions—believing it may somehow help me accept or at least appreciate the complexity of decisions made by people in today’s world. Inconsiderate actions will never fully cease, so I was hoping to find a way to be ok with them recurring in daily life—largely through a change in my own attitude. In order to do so, I needed to witness the situations that caused my anger and take a minute to step back and assess the situation with some dispassion before reacting.

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