We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.

The world comes to us by way of the five senses and is then assembled,  judged and felt within.  The raw data of sense experience becomes enmeshed with one’s identity to unconsciously produce either a pleasurable or unpleasurable experience.  

Interpretation is the curency of life-experience.

This process is onging, even coloring the dream space, long after the senses have materially withdrawn from the outer world.

“Now, I am a unicorn. Now I am a fish. Now I am being followed by a spider.” The mind, conjuring an ongoing brew of meaning. How then can we see clearly, or deeper still, gain a vision universal-reality?

In a word, Yoga practice develops “discernment.”

Overtime, the practices claify our preception, to see more and life and “self” as it truly is, void of conditioned layers of projection, cravings, and or aversions.  In a sense, to come out of the intoxicated dream of preconception.

It is a two fold process. Number one, down-regulate, and there are lots of ways to do this (including asana). And number two, tune into silence and stillness.  With repeated practice, these become increasingly more accessible.

Perhaps you’ve heard….

Yoga isn’t about the handstand—it’s about the quality of attention we bring to whatever we do. You could never touch an asana–or your toes for that matter–and still live yoga fully.

A truer measure of yoga sounds more like a widening capacity for love, compassion and sensitivity. As someone once said, the universe is “cosmic sensitivity training.” Yoga teaches us to become more sensitive and aware at every moment.

The touch of cotton goes unnoticed upon the skin but when it enters the eye it registered instantly.  Yoga is to make our field of attention more sensitive and insightful, like that of the acute eye. One sees greater layers of causation, rather than impulsively reacting.Yoga gradually trains the mind–who sits at the epicenter of each and every life experience–to rest into freedom and clarity over divided attention.

The word “anga” means limb, and it shows up in poses like bhujangasana and in philosophical discussion.

Specifically, I’m thinking of the distinction between bahir-anga, the outer-limbs of practice, and antar-anga, the inner-limbs of practice. Examples of outer limbs include ethical precepts and asana.

In its quest for existential knowledge, the yoga tradition left no stone unturned, turning inward in pursuit of lasting happiness amidst a transient and ever-changing world.

Fundamentally, our life experience occurs within.  It’s not so much that we experience the world, but rather, we experience our own energy in reaction to outer stimulus. It’s not the parking ticket that causes suffering; rather, it’s our reaction to it.

There is another way….

This is where the antar-anga, inner-limbs, come into play.  Rather than try to coerce the world into conforming to our expectations, the yogis sought to purify the inner landscape, strengthening self-understanding and resilience to overcome the instinct to germinate sorrow.

In about 200 words, this is just a sketch of this major tenet of yoga practice. Antar-anga (inner-limbs) is the topic for our September Master Class. 

And you, dear friend, are warmly invited.

Often, yogic teachings, and wisdom in general, comes down to stating the overlooked obvious; seeing what was in front of us all along with fresh understanding and greater appreciation..

This week, I want to share yet another lesson from the Colorado Trail, one that you will likely recognize. In a word, this is a story about rhythm, and its absence.

In my most recent trek, day one was entirely out of rhythm: the path was rocky–interrupting cadence–there were lots of people, and we managed to lose the trail for a while. In the words of my son, 

“It felt like a never ending quest to walk three miles,
unsuccessfully, again and again.”

According to the Vedas, the ultimate reality (or God) is characterized as: Satyam, Ritam, and Brihat.  The very fabric of this creation is made up of Truth, Rhythm (or Order), and is Incomprehensible Vast, Brihat.

We can align ourselves with these cosmic forces in many ways; through the truthfulness of our character; through ritualized rhythms (such as tribal dances or regular sadhana), and connecting with spaciousness (physically, mentally or emotionally).

Rhythm abounds; it is present in the face of a sunflower, your heartbeat, and the turn of seasons. And sometimes it blesses the second day of a prolonged trek; when our steps are light, our pace is in sync, the skies are remarkably spacious, and our barring is instinctually true.

Early on in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika–a 15th century yogic text–Svātmārāma draws a comparison between the breath (prana) and the mind (chita), and likens them to two fish swimming in tandem. Where one goes the other follows. 

Our breath follows our thoughts and vice versa–they are two sides of the same coin–if you are anxious your breath is different than if you are depressed, or if you are joyous. Breath provides a mirror reflection of our inner world.

The breath-mind connection suffuses asana, pranayama & meditative methods; all of which commonly involve conscious manipulation or tending to the breath,.

You can shape your breath to shape your thoughts.

With repeated practice, the breath and mind become very, very still. The mind stands like a clear full moon, reflected in motionless water. Breath and mind suspended.  In that space of stillness, unencumbered peace emerges.

As a simple practice:

1. Inhale a smooth full-breath through the nose and into the belly.
2. Exhale a long, smooth breath out through your mouth or nose. Make it about twice as long as your inbreath without any strain.
3. Repeat 3-5 times and notice the affect.