I read this article in the Times today about the role of food in the American yoga community. The debate about vegetarianism is ongoing – can you really live on the yogic path if you eat meat? One of the first moral principles listed by Patanjali in his Yoga Sutras (one of the foundational texts of yoga, dating back about 2000 years) is that of ahimsa, or non-violence. It means not causing harm to other sentient beings.
It’s unfortunate that the condition of the meat industry is such that we can’t eat meat with a clearer conscience. The result of our meat consumption is violence done not only to the animals, but also the environment, the laborers, and our own bodies. It is no wonder, then, that some avid meat-eaters feel a need to defend their decisions with an attitude of “I don’t give a shit, vegetarians are pussies.”
That said, I love bacon. And cheeseburgers. And cheeseburgers with bacon. These are temptations that my body doesn’t need the same way it needs leafy greens, though, so I only eat them every now and then. That’s my decision. A monthly cheeseburger tastes better than a weekly cheeseburger, anyways.
I wholeheartedly encourage anyone who wants to take up a meat-free diet. It does make a difference. For the rest of us, I’m going to make my usual argument: If we make choices mindfully, staying open to the truth of our actions, this awareness will contribute not only to our own well-being, but to the well-being of the world at large.
You eat to fuel yourself, but what are you fueling yourself towards? Everyday you take nourishment, likely shipped from far-away places for your consumption. Chances are there was some suffering involved in the process of providing you this food. What do you give in return?
At Thich Naht Hahn’s monastery in France, they recite the following Five Contemplations before every meal. Although this particular mindfulness practice stems from a Zen tradition, it is not unlike the Christian tradition of “saying grace.” I’ve posted them on the wall beside my kitchen table as a daily reminder that the ability to eat – no matter what we are eating - is not as simple or mundane as we might take for granted.
This food is a gift from the whole universe – the earth, the sky, and much hard work.
May we live in a way that is worthy of this food.
May we transform our unskillful states of mind, especially that of greed.
May we eat only foods that nourish us and prevent illness.
May we accept this food for the realization of the way of understanding and love.
Bon appetit!
Jan 27, 2010
Jan 22, 2010
Yoga as a Creative Act
Being creative is absolutely necessary to being well. It's in our nature to create. We have the opportunity to make something from whatever comes our way - whether it be music from an instrument, a meal from wholesome ingredients, or peace from chaos.
Sometimes I get caught up in my to-do list. I don't trust my inner child to be responsible, so I don't let her out. Who has time to cook when the sink is already full of dishes? Who has time to write a letter to an old friend when the bills need to be paid? But finding how to cope with the stresses of adult life, balancing what you want to do with what you need to do, is a creative process in itself.
I see yoga as a central creative act, a jumping-off place for all other endeavors, because a spacious quality of mind comes with regular practice. My thoughts refocus, setting all worrisome distractions aside in order to arrive in the present moment. To-do lists dissolve in the face of a challenging balance like Half Moon pose, because you generally can't balance on one foot with your limbs reaching in all directions and let your brain chatter away at the same time. Yoga cultivates control of the mind.
When you can focus your attention on the wisdom of the body, the physical sensations of the asanas (poses) become a joy to explore. I'm made aware of my aliveness. As I expand my body with breath, which is also called prana (life-energy), I create length, alignment, strength, and balance - a sound physical foundation to work from in all the other aspects of my life.
In this joyful, silent space where the mind is stilled and the body is nourished, creative solutions arise organically. It is a time to pause, go inward, and see where you are at.
Sometimes I get caught up in my to-do list. I don't trust my inner child to be responsible, so I don't let her out. Who has time to cook when the sink is already full of dishes? Who has time to write a letter to an old friend when the bills need to be paid? But finding how to cope with the stresses of adult life, balancing what you want to do with what you need to do, is a creative process in itself.
I see yoga as a central creative act, a jumping-off place for all other endeavors, because a spacious quality of mind comes with regular practice. My thoughts refocus, setting all worrisome distractions aside in order to arrive in the present moment. To-do lists dissolve in the face of a challenging balance like Half Moon pose, because you generally can't balance on one foot with your limbs reaching in all directions and let your brain chatter away at the same time. Yoga cultivates control of the mind.
When you can focus your attention on the wisdom of the body, the physical sensations of the asanas (poses) become a joy to explore. I'm made aware of my aliveness. As I expand my body with breath, which is also called prana (life-energy), I create length, alignment, strength, and balance - a sound physical foundation to work from in all the other aspects of my life.
In this joyful, silent space where the mind is stilled and the body is nourished, creative solutions arise organically. It is a time to pause, go inward, and see where you are at.
Jan 19, 2010
Support Your Fish, Open Your Heart
In my practice (life + attention), I've found that the heart is more than an organ pumping blood. It is an energetic storehouse for personal truths.
It amazes me how vividly the mind manifests in that mushy spot beneath the sternum. When the mind is excited, the heart races. When the mind is at peace, the heart feels warm and expansive. When the mind experiences a sense of loss, the term "heartache" becomes irritatingly true to form.
If we tune into what's going on in our bodies, we often get clues about the things in our life that need to be addressed. It behooves us to pay closer attention to the heart, this poignant center of the mind-body connection.
Lately I've discovered that I hunch my shoulders forward in times of emotional upheaval, as though to protect my heart by literally closing my body around it. This creates a lot of tension in the upper back and chest. Some people live with this kind of tension for years, hunching their shoulders to subconsciously delay the healing process. I urge you to be compassionate with yourself, and try the following pose to keep your heart open.
This is a supported version of Matsyasana or Fish Pose. It opens the chest and releases tension in the upper back. This pose can be used for emotional healing, or just to correct bad posture (though I would argue that the two are usually related).
Position a support of some kind under your back, below your heart.
Whatever variation of this pose suits you, breathe deeply. With each inhalation, imagine your heart opens wide. On the exhale, fully let go. As your chest opens, your back melts over the support. Stay with this - breathing, opening, and relaxing - for at least five minutes. Sometimes I do it for 20. In my experience with this pose, the more tension you release, the more you will see where you are still holding on.
At the end of this practice, carefully remove the support from under you and hug your knees to your chest. If it is comfortable, bring your head to your knees to round out your back.
If you want to share your experiences with this pose or if you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment or email me at jadetweston (at) gmail (dot) com. I honor your intention to do something kind for yourself.
Namaste.
It amazes me how vividly the mind manifests in that mushy spot beneath the sternum. When the mind is excited, the heart races. When the mind is at peace, the heart feels warm and expansive. When the mind experiences a sense of loss, the term "heartache" becomes irritatingly true to form.
If we tune into what's going on in our bodies, we often get clues about the things in our life that need to be addressed. It behooves us to pay closer attention to the heart, this poignant center of the mind-body connection.
Lately I've discovered that I hunch my shoulders forward in times of emotional upheaval, as though to protect my heart by literally closing my body around it. This creates a lot of tension in the upper back and chest. Some people live with this kind of tension for years, hunching their shoulders to subconsciously delay the healing process. I urge you to be compassionate with yourself, and try the following pose to keep your heart open.
This is a supported version of Matsyasana or Fish Pose. It opens the chest and releases tension in the upper back. This pose can be used for emotional healing, or just to correct bad posture (though I would argue that the two are usually related).
Position a support of some kind under your back, below your heart.
If you are pretty new to this kind of thing (like my friend Paul, pictured below) use a rolled blanket. Another folded blanket or cushion under your head is recommended to prevent compression in the back of the neck. Keep your knees bent to support your lower back.
If you are a little more advanced in a yoga practice, try using a rolled mat (as I am pictured) or a block. If you are a regular practitioner, you may not need a support under your head to keep the back of your neck long, and you may also be able to lengthen your legs away from you without putting strain on your lower back. Just do what is comfortable.
Whatever variation of this pose suits you, breathe deeply. With each inhalation, imagine your heart opens wide. On the exhale, fully let go. As your chest opens, your back melts over the support. Stay with this - breathing, opening, and relaxing - for at least five minutes. Sometimes I do it for 20. In my experience with this pose, the more tension you release, the more you will see where you are still holding on.At the end of this practice, carefully remove the support from under you and hug your knees to your chest. If it is comfortable, bring your head to your knees to round out your back.
If you want to share your experiences with this pose or if you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment or email me at jadetweston (at) gmail (dot) com. I honor your intention to do something kind for yourself.
Namaste.
Jan 11, 2010
Breathing down the mountain
I went skiing for the second time in my life on New Year's Day.
Warmest thanks to my friend Colin, who has skied for almost as long as he's walked. Colin continually pushes me to try things that are new and challenging, and then maintains an almost inhuman level of patience while I cop a bad attitude about it. At the end of our adventures together - usually while I tend my wounds (road rash, aches and bruises, near-hypothermia, damaged ego) - I realize how much I'm actually capable of enduring. We should all be so lucky to have friends that make us meet our edges. I try not to sound sarcastic while extending this gratitude, though it is sometimes difficult.
Putting me on skis was Colin's idea. First I was excited to go. Then I saw the mountain and got nervous. Then I fell down the mountain and got frustrated. But by the end of the day I was genuinely enjoying myself.
Being bad at skiing taught me a few lessons.
Firstly, my lack of patience (which usually reveals itself when I'm doing something that I am not particularly good at) is laughably unhelpful. At the beginning of the day I actually accused Colin of not having any patience for me, but he politely pointed out that I was projecting. Then I noticed it again and again; when I felt I was about to fall, my mind would suddenly flood with self-damning babble: I should be better at this, that four-year-old on a leash is better at this, why is this mountain so big, why is no one else falling down, I'm probably going to break both my legs, I should have worn a helmet.
The good thing about practicing yoga and meditation almost daily is that I picked up on these thought patterns pretty quickly. I saw them, and allowed them to happen while I pulled my attention to more important matters: namely, my movement and balance.
Think of this shift of attention as being similar to the way a loving parent ignores her child's temper tantrum. The wisdom-mind, which is grounded in the breath and the body, is the loving parent. The ego, which flails around on the vehicle of your thoughts, is the irritating child. Don't hit the child, just let it do its thing. If we approach our thoughts with this attitude of acceptance, without indulging or repressing them, they settle on their own.
I got better at skiing when I remembered to breathe. When you practice yoga, the movement of the breath accompanies the movement of the body. As I cruised down the mountain at a faster and faster pace, I tried to align my breath with my movement, beginning each inhale and exhale with each turn of my hips. When I could do this, my mind was quiet and the motion came naturally. I felt a little more graceful. If I thought about how I felt graceful, my skis would cross and I would tumble forward like a drunken Superman.
That was a big one to take off the mountain: I saw clearly that the mind's natural tendency is to detract from your experience of the present moment by cluttering it with thoughts. I knew this already, but trying to ski made it slapstick comedy.
If you can come back to the breath again and again, you will see how your monkey-mind starts to take the back burner. In its absence, your awareness is heightened and your sensory experience becomes more vivid. Activity is experienced in a way that is whole and visceral, as if each action were complete in itself.
Whether you are skiing, doing dishes, paying the bills, or driving, coming back to the breath is like being born back into reality. Sometimes we only catch glimpses of the world around us before the chatter picks up and we fall on our asses again. But from what I've seen in those instances of clarity, each moment is new.
Warmest thanks to my friend Colin, who has skied for almost as long as he's walked. Colin continually pushes me to try things that are new and challenging, and then maintains an almost inhuman level of patience while I cop a bad attitude about it. At the end of our adventures together - usually while I tend my wounds (road rash, aches and bruises, near-hypothermia, damaged ego) - I realize how much I'm actually capable of enduring. We should all be so lucky to have friends that make us meet our edges. I try not to sound sarcastic while extending this gratitude, though it is sometimes difficult.
Putting me on skis was Colin's idea. First I was excited to go. Then I saw the mountain and got nervous. Then I fell down the mountain and got frustrated. But by the end of the day I was genuinely enjoying myself.
Being bad at skiing taught me a few lessons.
Firstly, my lack of patience (which usually reveals itself when I'm doing something that I am not particularly good at) is laughably unhelpful. At the beginning of the day I actually accused Colin of not having any patience for me, but he politely pointed out that I was projecting. Then I noticed it again and again; when I felt I was about to fall, my mind would suddenly flood with self-damning babble: I should be better at this, that four-year-old on a leash is better at this, why is this mountain so big, why is no one else falling down, I'm probably going to break both my legs, I should have worn a helmet.
The good thing about practicing yoga and meditation almost daily is that I picked up on these thought patterns pretty quickly. I saw them, and allowed them to happen while I pulled my attention to more important matters: namely, my movement and balance.
Think of this shift of attention as being similar to the way a loving parent ignores her child's temper tantrum. The wisdom-mind, which is grounded in the breath and the body, is the loving parent. The ego, which flails around on the vehicle of your thoughts, is the irritating child. Don't hit the child, just let it do its thing. If we approach our thoughts with this attitude of acceptance, without indulging or repressing them, they settle on their own.
I got better at skiing when I remembered to breathe. When you practice yoga, the movement of the breath accompanies the movement of the body. As I cruised down the mountain at a faster and faster pace, I tried to align my breath with my movement, beginning each inhale and exhale with each turn of my hips. When I could do this, my mind was quiet and the motion came naturally. I felt a little more graceful. If I thought about how I felt graceful, my skis would cross and I would tumble forward like a drunken Superman.
That was a big one to take off the mountain: I saw clearly that the mind's natural tendency is to detract from your experience of the present moment by cluttering it with thoughts. I knew this already, but trying to ski made it slapstick comedy.
If you can come back to the breath again and again, you will see how your monkey-mind starts to take the back burner. In its absence, your awareness is heightened and your sensory experience becomes more vivid. Activity is experienced in a way that is whole and visceral, as if each action were complete in itself.
Whether you are skiing, doing dishes, paying the bills, or driving, coming back to the breath is like being born back into reality. Sometimes we only catch glimpses of the world around us before the chatter picks up and we fall on our asses again. But from what I've seen in those instances of clarity, each moment is new.
Jan 3, 2010
Merry New Year
Ah, the holidays. There is something so refreshing about seeing them end.
This year is the first that I’ve had my own place, so I took it upon myself to find my own meaningful ways of cozying up for the beginning of winter. I think a lot of Christmas traditions are empty ceremony, and I've definitely had my fair share of holiday cynicism, but being a Scrooge and shunning Christmas as a whole doesn’t really suit me. I believe there is value in ritual as long as it is carried out mindfully.
I decided to see how I could adopt Christmas in a way that nurtures my well-being, rather than decimating it by carrying on with all the commercially-mandated rigmarole. Here’s what I found enjoyable about the season this year:
+ Stringing cranberries and popcorn: This is a tradition I learned from my mum, and one I’ll definitely keep. It involves a certain measure of patience, and the result is a decorative garland that is pretty and simple. Not to mention biodegradable.
+ Hanging real pine garland over my windows and doors: It’s an inexpensive way of being able to enjoy that comforting pine smell without all the fuss of a tree, and they don’t look out-of-place or depressing if they are still up after New Years.
+ Putting mistletoe up over the bathroom mirror: If you want to put the moves on someone in a doorway, just do it. There shouldn’t have to be some little plant dangling up there for an excuse. It can, however, remind you to love yourself every morning while you’re brushing your teeth. Don't accept this as an act of vanity; 'tis is the season for spreading the love, and it starts at home.
+ Avoiding the mall: Just about everyone on my list this year either got books, or things I made. I enjoy the challenge of the creative process when it is met with the motivation to brighten someone’s day. My favorite gift to give this year was a portrait I painted of my father in a bear suit, which got a little laugh out of him – exactly what I wanted for Christmas. Mix CD's and knit goods are also very sincere.
There were also a couple of things I learned didn’t work for me:
- Mulled wine and roasted chestnuts: Maybe I did a poor job cooking them, but neither was very palatable. Next year I’m sticking to hot rum-and-cider and gingerbread.
- Tacky decorations: I hung the bright red stockings that my grandmother gave to my roommate and I. She also gave us place mats and pot holders with images of Santa Claus and a snowman holding hands. Very cute. While I enjoyed the daily reminder of how sweet my grandmother is, they became a bit of an eyesore. I took them down after a week. Sorry, Gram. (Though the pot holders stayed – they won their place in my kitchen by being practical).
- Sticking around on Christmas day: I enjoy celebrating Christmas with my family on Christmas Eve, and sharing gifts and breakfast on Christmas morning, but by the time the afternoon hits it seems like everyone’s energy level drops through the basement. Next year I’ll avoid sharing in the communal lethargy by driving north to Maine or Vermont to enjoy some solitude as my own Part Two to the holiday. I’m finally set on the fact that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be alone on Christmas.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
