Understanding the Yoga Journey

Beginners come to yoga for relief from stress, physical issues or pain. If the practitioner is consistent in her practice - even just weekly - she observes that her posture begins to improve. If she does miss a class, she finds that she really felt its absence in her week. She discovers to her delight that the body and the postures are really just tools to teach her how to quiet the mind and to connect with her inner self. And that the key to achieving balance in her life is in accessing this center.

The student comes into class, and stands on her mat. The practice begins. The breath has new meaning. Possibly for the very first time ever, there is a new awareness of breath and of the breathing process. The brain cells begin to settle, and there is a meditative quality in practicing the poses. The intense focus on the body and the execution of the postures, or asanas, increase one’s concentration and attention span. All other unrelated thoughts are absent. Challenge and pleasure in movement is felt. The normal experience of an hour or two is altered: time dissipates. Then class is over - the fluctuations of the mind are stilled, the body is well stretched, muscles toned and joints lubricated, tensions are released. The student joyfully steps off her mat and into her world outside of the studio.

Chaos ensues. Traffic jams. Late for car-pool. Deadline at work looms. Return home. One child’s scraped knee, another battle between siblings. While on the phone asking her partner to pick up milk, the pot boils over, the baby spills the can of apple juice and someone is at the door. What happened to the tranquility of the yoga studio? How to remain calm in the present moment without the desire to flee? Where to find the inner point of stillness that the teacher referred to?

There are no easy answers, magic formulas or simple roadmaps to follow. However, committing to a consistent practice of yoga over time does teach you how to return to your center when needed. In class, as you quiet your thoughts, observe your breath and follow the instructions being given while in a pose you learn how to stay fully connected with yourself in the moment. As you learn to detach from external stimuli and distractions and to take your awareness inwards, you are drawn to your core. You begin to discover your own sense of stability, strength, balance and calm. Learning to stand firmly in the basic standing posture called “tadasana” or mountain pose, creates a sense of grounding from the feet. As the rooting in the feet occurs, the spine and spirit begin to ascend up. Eventually, regardless of what surrounds you, you will be able to maintain your poise, steadiness and focus. Then when you have stepped off the mat and into your life, you will be well equipped to tackle whatever challenge presents itself to you with equanimity and grace.

Embracing the two pillars: Silence and Stillness

Chitta vritti nirodha “Stilling the fluctuations of consciousness” Yoga Sutra I.2

Driving home from the hospital one evening in April, my cousin asked me in a mildly suggestive tone if I would be taking the summer off. My father had just survived his third heart attack in nine months. My answer was very quick and the decision was made without any conscious thought. Lacking any censorship, I spontaneously replied, “I guess so. Yes. I will take the time off.” My cousin wisely intuited - before I did - that I would soon need to seek the balance that I value so much in my life.

If I am to teach yoga with integrity, I have to implement the teachings in my life. Yogis are committed to consciously and regularly harmonizing their nervous systems. So I packed up, and headed north, longing for moments of silence and stillness. Arriving at the lake, I was as excited as a child opening up birthday presents. Home again, in the family cottage of my childhood. Here, the prana, or life force from the lake and the sky is intense. The changing light, the fresh air, the beavers and Canadian geese… this is truly abundance. Having chosen to disconnect from the usual bombardment of technology in order to reconnect, music plays occasionally but the television and computer remain off almost all of the time. The rhythm of the days is slow. Most importantly, in those special moments of silence and stillness, I feel peace, contentment and joy.

Each day as I kayak, and practise my yoga, I surrender to stillness. The many lessons of almost three decades of yoga studies arise in my awareness. In those perfect moments of unity between my body, mind and emotions, I feel my connection to the Divine spirit, and gratitude for the understanding that all that is really needed is found within. Objects may be beautiful and we do derive pleasure from them but to seek anything more from those sources is to miss the truth. For example, an old dining room table has recently been passed on to us. It has been interesting to observe others feedback (and even judgment) over our decision to leave the table uncovered in order to enjoy the luster of the wood and to appreciate the inlaid handwork. For some, the desire to protect the table for the future takes precedence over appreciating it in the present moment. Experiencing an open heart, appreciating beauty and creativity, living simply, and accessing and sharing all the love that is within, is what creates lasting fulfillment.

Absorbing the silence of the lake, the stilling of the fluctuations of my mind begins to unfold and to reign over the usual distractions. I begin to achieve inner stillness. I feel calm. These changes occur whether I am kayaking, meditating, or practicing yoga. Yesterday, I observed the same gradual relaxation in my son as I guided him through a yoga practise. The sun was soon to set, and the lake was quiet. We were on the deck. His first pose was a relaxation one, and as soon as he lay down on the mat and saw where he was, he liked it. In one of the final poses, he was lying perpendicular to the stairs, and right at the edge of them. He had a blanket roller under his neck and his head dangled freely, resting very lightly on a step. His view was inverted, his perspective changed, and he spoke of his pleasure. The time spent together was really lovely. He said “thank you” at the end of the practise; yet the gratitude was mine, and I felt incredibly blessed.

Silence. Stillness. These are magic words and they are my path to tranquility, harmony and balance. At most times they are a challenge to find for they are elusive. When found, they can be difficult to stay with or to experience. When I recognize that I need to step back, to honour the gift of life that I have been given, and to reconnect with all that is important, I pursue experiences that can provide me with both silence and stillness. In my pursuit of balance and well-being, silence and stillness are the two pillars.

Temmi Ungerman Sears

“Learn to be silent. Let your quiet mind listen, and absorb.” – Pythagorus