This summer, at age 54, I’ve embarked on a new(er) past-time, hiking half (240 miles) of the Colorado Trail, in 2-4 day installments.  

Superficially, the hike may seem distinct from formal yoga practice. But, as I sometimes share with students: “you can take yoga with you anywhere you breathe, think or move.”

Breath regulation synchronized with steps, nasal breathing, intentionally setting one’s gaze, or unwinding with a few poses after 16 miles of hiking are some possible applications.

And sometimes the deeper ethos of yogic teachings are illustrated by the land itself. One connects to the spirit rather than route methodologies.

After traversing a particularly difficult  pass, I vividly noticed all the upright, green trees; surrounded by an equal number of brown, horizontal ones. 

Half the forest alive and half of it deceased.

Of course the deceased trees then nourish the soil and enter the bodies of new emergent trees. And so the cycle goes, death is simply an aspect of the greater wheel of life and not a definitive ending.

In other words, death occurs within the greater context of life. 

Life is primary. 

The forest offered no philosophy that day, only a quiet reminder: what appears as an ending is often participation in a larger continuity. Seen this way, practice becomes less about forcing change and more about learning to align with the rhythms that have always sustained us.

Amidst the many uncertainties in life I often remind myself to come back to the basics.

And it does not get much more basic than breathing, or so it seems.

Breath is vital to our life-process, and often overlooked – essential nourishment, hidden in plain sight, and presumed to always be there for us. Holding your breath out for 30 seconds will quickly reveal our vital link to breath in astonishing ways.

Yoga teachers often lean heavily on breath-cues, reminding us to “take a big ol’ hit of air” as one teacher professed. 

Rarely do I hear reference to why we should be conscious of our breath; and I summarize some of those reasons below:

• The breath is the intermediary force between your body & mind.
• Breath regulation gives us direct access to autonomic (unconscious) aspects of the nervous system.
• The breath provides a mirror reflection of our thoughts.
• If you’re anxious you will breathe accordingly, same is true for all other emotions.
• It is possible to reverse engineer the breath to tranquilize the mind.
• A calm, smooth breath indicates mental stillness = effortless meditation.
  

Simple ways that we can improve breathing:

• Breath through your nose whenever possible.
• Use sleep tape – video here. 
• Practice asana as a means of breath regulation. Breathe first, posture second.
• Deep abdominal breathing is one of the most effective methods for anxiety regulation.
• Regular practice of pranayama with trusted guidance

Oftentimes we may enter yoga with the hope of gaining something, such as greater range of motion or peace of mind, often with success.  It is a sensible motivation.

On a deeper level, the yoga process reveals a deeper capacity to accept life as it is, independent of our predeterminations–the ability to sit in loss, gain or grief with greater equanimity–and grow wiser from such experiences.

From this perspective, yoga is a reversal. To reverse the instinct to grasp at externals and deliberately focus on shaping/managing/purifying our perception; the actual epicenter of where life experiences occurs.

It’s not so much that we experience the outside world, as we experience our own energy, in reaction to outer sources of stimulation.  Cultivating our inner capacities–a movement from reaction to response–is a great reversal and gesture towards lasting freedom.

Perhaps you’ve heard Patañjali’s quintessential definition 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?

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. 

Who is the “me” beneath these fluctuations?

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

Who would we be in the absence of  thoughts and opinions about self and “others”?

How does one still the mind?

What get’s revealed?

More questions….

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.

Namaste May,

Like a swollen river that winds its way through mountains, and across deserts, before emptying into the primal ocean, yoga unfolds over time–leading to our essential origin.

This month, in our weekly Master Class, we turn our attention to the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, a definitive treatise on the aim and path of yoga; leading to complete freedom.

Sounds nice, right!?

The text starts with a declarative assertion: “atha-yoga-nushasanam” or, “Now the study of Yoga.”

The first word, “atha”, means now. Indicating a possible monumental build up of  life experiences that have led to this moment.  Now, we are in a position to take up the study.

Atha also connotes that we will commence our study, a movement towards future study.

And finally, Atha also signals the eternal present. As in NOW. Yoga study is a total embrace of the perennial-immediacy that touches all of life; past, future and present.

One who awakens to the very first word of the very first yoga sutra can simply lay the rest of the text to rest. And for those who may struggle with present moment freedom, there is more to unpack.

We invite you to join in our study of the phenomenal book of wisdom.