The Art of Finding Balance and Unity in Everyday Life

The first instruction children hear when learning to cross the street is “Stop, look both ways and wait until the road is clear.” However, if children in India listened to this advice they would grow old waiting to cross! There is an order to the endless flow of traffic (cars, scooters, rickshaws, bikes, cows, buffaloes, goats and people) that ensures safety. Once one has started to cross, one must keep going and crossing on the diagonal seems to work best! Indeed, there is a balance underlying the chaos.

My time in India continues to be filled with several hours of yoga each day - in class, one learns and thinks while during practise, one studies and feels. The yoga process is about evolving consciousness and here in India, learning to mitigate the contrast between my inner world and the outer world is a part of the learning experience. The quietude of the mind, the stilling of consciousness and the intense inward focus one strives to maintain during practise enables one to penetrate deeply inward and block external distractions in spite of the ongoing honking, birds or voices that came be heard through the open windows of the pavilion. Thankfully, yoga has taught me how to access my center so that I am better able to merge my inner world with the outer one without losing my balance or stability regardless of the intensity of the situation at hand. My center is like the fulcrum of the teeter-totter.

Studying here at the source of yoga, and with the source of Iyengar yoga is a double blessing. While assisting in daily Medical classes, Mr. Iyengar has had his eye on the woman that I have been working with this month. He has been designing sequences for her and I have been actively involved in implementing these sequences including his prop setups and verbal instructions. During Medical class, poses are fully supported with multiple props and many of the therapeutic postures are restorative ones. Although there is a bustle in the Hall filled with dozens of patients and teachers, there is also a sacred quiet focus. Stepping out onto the street afterwards, one experiences an immediate sensory overload of the never-ending cacophony and constant motion. The 6 p.m. rush hour after Medical class is such a contrast to the inner sanctum of the Institute. And again, yoga’s lessons on how to remain calm and contained even in these contrasting moments of extreme intensity are applied and appreciated! Yoga, or Yug, means unity. Without the valuable lessons of yoga which include being able to experience unity of mind and body, walking down the main street at this hour would likely result in a very jarring effect on the nervous system. This balance is the baseline upon which I walk.

When the desperately needed monsoons arrived ten days ago, a driving relentless rain persisted for four days straight! My daughter and I were walking through a local market called Lakshmi Road when the rains came and we were caught in it, unprepared. Finding a store to purchase a rain slicker for her we stood four layers deep with people doing the same thing. Unable to find a rickshaw to take us home later that evening and laughingly trekking through what seemed like small lakes instead of streets, we were caught up in the energy of the monsoons. Lying awake that first night listening to the rains, walking around with wet clothes and wet feet (and with a broken umbrella to which I have since become very attached), and hearing words of gratitude spoken by many local people for the arrival of the monsoons fully awakened me to how very precious water is for the billion people of India. It also served as a strong reminder to appreciate our blessing of the abundance of fresh water available in Canada. With the arrival of the monsoons, I again noted extremes, and the balance to the inhospitable dry hot climate that had prevailed for so long.

Over the past several years, I have casually studied the science of Ayurveda medicine. My friend Sonali, a very accomplished Ayurvedic doctor in Pune, gives me treatments when I am visiting. Ayurveda has been practiced in India for at least 5, 000 years and is a form of alternative medicine – it is the oldest surviving whole body system of healing and health. Ayurveda seeks to prevent and treat illness by maintaining balance in the body, mind and consciousness using a comprehensive holisitic approach that emphasizes diet, lifestyle, yoga, meditation, massage and herbal remedies. Because of the importance of balance and promoting positive health, the universal principals and practices of Ayurveda holds great appeal for me. It is also the other side of the yoga coin.

A few years ago I had a very interesting conversation with a family member who did not agree that balance was attainable. However, it is my belief that by embracing the Eight-fold Path of yoga and by implementing Ayurvedic practices, the possibility of successfully creating a state of balance on a day-to-day basis is within reach. During the past few years, I have had to navigate difficult challenges including various hospitalizations of three different family members, and a very disturbing experience with a professional association. But by practicing yoga and utilizing Ayurvedic principles, I was better equipped to access inner strength and maintain my stability while managing these life hurdles. Studying yoga in India, while it nurtures my passion, solidifies my commitment, and deepens my understanding, it also enables me to restore and rejuvenate my mind body and spirit. In my ongoing quest for integration and balance, I continue to learn how to trust in the universe and experience the interwoven fabric of reality.

Temporarily pausing normal routines and responsibilities requires support and resources and spending time studying in a foreign country is a veritable treat to be savored. Learning the valuable lessons of how to merge our inner world with the outer one, identifying personal imbalances and symptoms in order to take care of one’s needs and promote positive health, and recognizing the underlying balance to everything, need not only occur when visiting a foreign land. Attempting to maintain one’s awareness of the yug, or unity of all things is an ongoing process regardless of where one is. But travel is an exercise in mindfulness training and provides a way of shifting perspectives with open eyes and an open heart. With new eyes that are wide open we are able to find or rekindle a balanced way of moving through our days and of observing the unity that exists everywhere.

When I return home I will no longer be wearing my travel lens but I will continue my efforts to maintain the perspectives that India has helped me to have. Undoubtedly many things will arise that will require balancing, including my own state of being. Starting the day with a very mindful sip of coffee and returning over and over again throughout the day to this kind of quiet and appreciative focus and presence – be it on my mat, in my creative pursuits, or in my interactions with others - will continue to be very important. Engaging in the simple practise of being mindful during my daily activities and practices combined with maintaining my intention to evolve consciousness and health will help me to create and experience unity and balance in everyday life – yoga, both on and off the mat.

Temmi Ungerman Sears

June 27, 2013

“Pilgrim, pilgrimage, and road – it was but myself toward my Self,

and your arrival was but myself at my own door.”

-Rumi

In the Spirit of the Times

Arriving back in India last week and stepping out of the airport at 3 a.m., the heat, smells, sights and sounds were strikingly familiar although it had been a few years since my last trip to the Iyengar Yoga Institute to study. As the taxi left the Mumbai airport for Pune, the necessary combination of the patience of a saint, a good sense of humor and just the right amount of assertiveness was soon required. First stop, air for the tire. Second stop, pulled over by three policemen hoping to find a reason for baksheesh (a tip). The last stop en route was at a checkpoint where we were held for having “invalid papers” during which time at least eight men gathered around to discuss the situation. After a total of 27 hours of travel, I finally arrived in Pune, and unpacked in my rented apartment only to discover that the electricity is shut off all day on Thursdays. No ceiling fan but LOL, I was back!

India is a total experience. It is an assault on the senses, and is colorful, diverse, crowded and magnificent. It is a land of contrasts from the squalid to the luxurious. Colorful and fragrant flower offerings are for sale on every corner (instead of our Starbucks) and these are created daily to be offered to the plethora of deities that are worshiped and revered in India. In addition to the many gods and goddesses, intricate images and sculptures, sacred texts, the diversity of religious denominations and the ritual of puja, there are of course, the holy cows that roam the streets.

In a place where spirituality is infused in daily life, and where tradition underlies everything, I was immediately struck by how much has changed here yet how little has changed as well. The last time I had seen BKS Iyengar he was still in his eighties and now he is 94. Although his appearance has changed, he continues to practice a wide range of poses including advanced backbends and inversions. His postures are fully supported with props and he holds them for long durations. I feast my eyes upon him during the practise sessions and I am intrigued, inspired and humbled by this man, a veritable genius in our time.

Assisting in the Medical Class, I feel honored to be able to help facilitate healing in others and to also observe BKS Iyengar working the room as if at a party. He is like an athlete in the zone, flowing from one person to the next, fully present. One minute “The Lion of Pune” is barking a command or pressing with such force on someone and in the next moment, he is bending down to kiss a young girl all the while leaving his indelible mark as he touches with pure brilliance.

Herein lies the mystique and transformative power of yoga. BKS Iyengar has made yoga accessible to the world and while the practise is bound in tradition, it is also constantly evolving. As I observe him practicing or teaching, I glance up to look at the hundreds of photos that adorn the walls of the Institute and I am transported across the lifespan of his practise. Change is truly the constant.

There is more traffic in Pune and available rickshaws are harder to find. I used to visit the Internet café in order to stay connected with home. Now I have Wifi. The rickshaw driver pulls out his cell phone. Walking to the vegetable market to select my produce sill holds an allure but there is now a “supermarket” in the new Pune Central department store just minutes from the Institute. However, staying true to tradition, each day I still buy the un-pasteurized “cow milk” (to be differentiated from the available buffalo milk) and boil it for my morning coffee. This has been something that I have enjoyed doing during every trip I have made to study here. Boiling the milk and using a percolator on the stove takes time and slowing down is a part of the learning for me here. I don’t want to give up this simple ritual. The coffee also tastes better.

Within Sacred India, many changes have arisen including technology, the emerging middle class, and the more common style of western clothing. Yet there remains an incredible sensory experience. Constant noise and movement threaten to overwhelm the visitor but the bombardment is offset by choosing to focus on the surrounding beauty including the rich jeweled colors of the saris, the sweet smell of the jasmine, the deep chants of the religious, the lyrical songs of the birds, the intense flavors of the food.

It is a privilege to return to India to study yoga at the source. I am grateful that the universe has at this time supported this experience for I am once again blessed to learn from the living masters of our time. As I open myself to all that this incredible country offers and in particular, the rich teachings of the Iyengars, I simultaneously open to my yoga practise. And change is what permeates both my inner and outer worlds. And just like India, where tradition underlies the changes, the constancy or ritual of daily practise provides for the ongoing process of change for the yoga practitioner. As I embark on this new-old journey, I reflect on the many changes that have occurred during my thirty-year yoga history and ponder what new changes will undoubtedly unfold.

Namaste,

Temmi

June 6, 2013

“I’m living in the moment, I’m living my life

Easy and breezy, with peace in my mind

Peace in my heart, with peace in my soul

Wherever I’m going, I’m already home”

Jason Mraz from his new album, “Love is a four letter word”

Giving Thanks for the Journey

Having just passed the milestone thirty-year anniversary of my long engagement with yoga, many reflections arise pertaining to the swift passage of time and about the many invaluable gifts that yoga has given me through several life stages, including adolescence, pregnancy, motherhood and into middle age.

As my students share their passages with me, I am humbled by the responsibility to teach this powerful process in ways that are inspirational, authentic and personally meaningful. I feel especially blessed to share the timeless tradition of yoga with students of all ages ranging from four to eighty-five years! In a recent evening class, two teenagers, a twenty-something year old, and men and women in their thirties, forties and fifties were learning together. Regardless of age, gender, life stage, profession, physical capability or intellectual prowess, Iyengar yoga is truly available to all. For those who stay the course and practise with consistency, a wide range of benefits are experienced.

My dharma or path has included the incredible opportunity to share with thousands of others for over twenty-five years something that has been so important to me. The YogaBuds for Kids program is now in its seventeenth year; to help facilitate a child’s maturation process from early childhood to adulthood is a privilege. Helping to foster meaningful connections between parent and child teaching them yoga together has been another gift in my teaching career. Guiding a teenager towards developing greater self-acceptance; supporting a woman through pregnancy; helping a very stiff man to eventually touch his toes; rejoicing in someone’s first moments balancing in headstand, or sharing the pain of loss with an elderly student… Ultimately, the gift that I have been given is sharing the gift of yoga with others while developing meaningful relationships with them.

Having just celebrated Thanksgiving, I am reminded that it is how we use our blessings, not what we say about them that is the true measure of our thanksgiving. Thus, it is through my commitment to continue to “pay it forward” to my students – from all walks and of all ages – that I will express my thanksgiving.

Best of all is it to preserve everything in a pure, still heart, and let there be for every pulse a thanksgiving, and for every breath a song. –Konrad von Gesn

Presence and Peace in Moments of Change

One of the most popular and well-known rituals during the Jewish New Year involves dipping apple slices into honey. This sweet combination is symbolic of expressing the hope for a sweet year ahead. Round challah or egg bread is also eaten to symbolize the circle of life and the cycle of a new year. As the seasons change, and years flow one into the next, we are reminded that the only constant that we can always rely on is change itself. It feels as if the transition from summer to fall is the most dramatic of the changing seasons when the temperatures and leaves drop and the light changes noticeably. The colours become more saturated, and everything prepares for sleep. One morning we awake to a new crispness in the air. In addition to environmental changes, there is also a shift in attitude and behavior. Back to school, back to the studio, new programs begin and schedules fill up. We shift gears and slide into the new normal.             Early in the classic Yoga Sutra, Patanjali defines yoga as “Control over the mind’s fluctuations comes from persevering practise and nonattachment” (1.14). The two guiding concepts, abhyasa (perservering practise) and vairagya (nonattachment) are key to yoga. Practise requires will and discipline, and nonattachment is a matter of surrender, release and letting go. Abhyasa becomes firmly established when it is cultivated without interruption and with devotion. We become grounded in the practise of always returning to practise without being bound to past patterns. Vairagya is a state of mind when desire is gone and over time, through practise, vairagya becomes possible. This September marks my thirtieth year of yoga practise. It is not possible to briefly summarize all that I have learned or what these years of consistent devotion has provided me with. My persevering practise, or abhyasa, has carried me through several life stages. Yoga buttresses my life. Studying the wisdom from this timeless tradition, we learn to focus with attention and discernment while on the mat. Taking these lessons off the mat, we practise letting go and surrendering to each change, breath-by-breath, moment-to-moment. As my mother takes my elbow for support when we walk together, our son, standing on the threshold of adulthood, at times, pushes back. Our daughter is now balancing with one foot in and one foot out as she prepares to depart for university in a few days. The other night, our youngest crawled into bed to cuddle and chat. Supporting loved ones in different ways, I try to be steadfast with devotion while remaining open to change and fully present. I experience serenity and stability and feel the fullness of the moment. As I practise complete awareness and attunement I also let go and embrace each change as it unfolds. A sense of peaceful spaciousness within is felt. Whether alone on my mat or with loved ones, I practise gratitude for my many blessings. Cherishing feelings of connectedness and abundance, I am most thankful for my yoga practise. Tradition will ensure that apples and honey welcome in the new year. And as I greet each change and hold it in awareness, I taste and savor the sweetness of the present moment. Temmi Ungerman Sears August 21, 2012

Finding the Stillness

Life doesn’t wait for nor consult with anyone. Change can occur in any moment. So practise. Be present. Learn where your center is and how to access it for when you need to go there. My sweet fifteen year old, a strong athletic intelligent beauty had a sports injury a few months ago. An emergency room doctor’s use of the wrong splint on her fracture resulted in a hospitalization and two serious infections, one life threatening. Thankfully, antibiotics and time facilitated the healing and we averted having to face anything worse than a terrible interruption in our lives and a scare. The second time in a year and a half staying in a hospital advocating for loved ones, I again had to know where to go inwardly in order to remain grounded, calm and focused while still occasionally moving at a frenetic pace. In the first situation, my parents were both hospitalized at the same time. This past February, the work was endless supporting our daughter while trying to prevent her from slipping through the cracks in the system, unsuccessfully. However, I am grateful beyond measure for the many years of yoga practise that helps to weave together the fabric of my life. From this practice and the acquired skills and lessons learned, I was again able to tap into the source of my stability when needed, and for this, I am most grateful. When life is spinning fast, and stress penetrates the skin, when change is in every moment and time just marches by, I try to move through the concentric circles that protect my heart. This is done symbolically while standing still in Tadasana (mountain pose). As I breathe, I ground through the soles of my feet, engaging muscles while quieting the mind, and I move in to access inner stillness. I am thus able to stand inside of the stillness for postures are tools to help reach deeply into yourself. I remain on my yoga mat, literally and figuratively, for as long as I need to. The yoga mat is a symbol of the practise. It is a concrete manifestation that delineates the sacred space that one goes to when practising. It is a living mandala. For standing in the centre of the mat, the path leads home to one’s own inner point of stillness. This is found inside of the heart. When change arrives, in its simplest or grandest form, what is constant remains. The consistency of the practise, the strength of the connection with the Divine, and the rhythm and mystery of the breath… this is what remains constant and what pulls you towards where you need to be. It really is simple. It is committing to remaining present and aware, awakened in each moment – breath by breath, moment to moment. Life passes. Time moves in one direction. But my yoga has taught me to stand still in the fullness of each moment. When I tune into this place, my reality has meaning. My practise has taught me to keep coming to the mat, year in and year out, to keep learning and to live my life with the understanding of what it means to be alive and to be present. My practise has taught me what yoga really is. I don’t know what curve ball will be heading in my direction next. But I do know without a doubt that there will be one. And with humility and gratitude, I will continue to step onto my mat, to pause long enough to breathe with awareness and serenity, and to remain present in the Now. I will be standing still to catch the ball.

Seated in the Light

Would you choose to buy two lovely used leather chairs if you knew that an elderly couple committed a double suicide in them? This is a question that I have asked numerous times this fall as the opportunity to purchase these chairs became available. Family, friends and students’ immediate responses have been overwhelmingly negative. I have found this to be of great interest. From these strong responses, it appears that people are completely spooked and unnerved by the idea of occupying the seat that someone has passed away in. Yoga teaches us about the impermanence of all things, and that death is just another aspect of life; however, in our western culture we do not to have an easy acceptance of death. We fear it and perceive it as dark and scary. Hence, the common resistance to even sitting in a chair that had an appointment with death. Fear of death is a major cause of human suffering. Thousands of years ago Sage Patanjali wrote in his text, the Yoga Sutra, that the basic causes of human suffering are fivefold: avidya (spiritual ignorance), asmita (egoism), raga (desire or attachment), dwesha (denial or aversion) and abhinivesha (fear of death or clinging to life). We can gain a deeper understanding of our own death and insight into that which is deathless by gaining insight into these five aspects of suffering. In Hinduism and Buddhism, death is viewed as just one minor event in a cyclic process of rebirth and transmigration. From a Yogic perspective, death is regarded as an integral part of Life and emphasizes the importance of facing death before we die in order to not be overwhelmed by extreme fear. Yoga helps us to refine our perception and encourage a process of discovering what we are as human beings on a deeper level including gaining insight into the nature of death and what is beyond. By going deeper into the nature of death we are provided with an invaluable opportunity of realizing that aspect of our Being which is deathless and we can begin to see life beyond the ego. Yoga can further give us glimpses into that aspect of ourselves which is unchanging, or undying. In our four-season climate, the seasons do change. Death, decay and dormancy within our natural environment can be observed as we transition from fall into winter. In turn, we also prepare for greater cocooning in our homes during the pending winter months. As darkness and cooler days begin to descend upon us, some people anticipate our potentially harsh conditions of winter with trepidation rather that with an attitude of receptivity and acceptance for the unknown and the inevitable changes that lie ahead. Last week, Deepavali, the festival of lights, was celebrated in India. This festival celebrates the light and abundance of life. In the west when we fear the darkness we can remember Deepavali, turn inward and rejoice in the inner light that is our true divine nature. By opening our hearts through yoga practise, and accessing spirit, we can choose to spread the light to those we care about. Through the very powerful tools of yoga, we can experience our energy, find joy in the longer days of darkness and choose to resist our reactive tendencies towards fearfulness or negativity. During these fall and winter months, why not commit to a regular yoga practise and bring to it an intention of sharing your inner luminosity with others by embracing change and finding peace and acceptance within the darkness? “The heart chakra is the seat of the soul.” -BKS Iyengar Temmi Ungerman Sears November 2, 2011

Meaningful Moments in Muskoka

In their late eighties, my parents have also continually reinforced for me the understanding that yoga truly exists off the mat as much as on it, for countless actions of compassion and kindness are frequently executed by both of my parents. Many deeds of pure generosity illuminate the essence of my father's spirit: his innate goodness. My mother's devotion to him and to her family, combined with the ease of acceptance of health issues, reflects an individual who is accepting and patient, flowing with grace, and at peace within herself and her life. Unbeknownst to them, they are constantly practising Karma Yoga.

At the start of my vacation at our cottage, my son went to rest, and my father suggested a ride on the pontoon boat. Going along with my parents on this hot July day, we travelled very slowly along the water's edge through three adjoining lakes. Cherishing the beauty of the moment - both the exquisite natural world surrounding us and the time spent together that late afternoon - I felt blessed. The lake was very quiet and calm, and we were too. Three hours later, we returned home. I was filled up with the sacred.

A few weeks ago my brother downloaded a Solitaire App on my iPad for my mother and it quickly became an ongoing source of pleasure for her. We have enjoyed watching her embrace today's most current popular technology. Teasing her about her new addiction, or sipping our glasses of Amaretto, or spending a few silent moments sitting with my father as he pensively gazes at the lake, I am given invaluable opportunities to practise remaining present which arises authentically from my deepest essence. In so doing, I feel my vibrant connection to my parents. To sit comfortably in silence, to listen with an open heart, to hear their stories and share their memories, and even their dreams -- these are golden times.

Yesterday morning my father shared with my mother, my husband and myself the dream that he recalled upon awakening. He spoke of his deceased sister, and the address "1188 Bloor Street" where she had run her poultry store with her husband. He stressed the address and was curious about the strong impression it had made on him. Intuiting it's possible meaning I suggested, "1188: you were eleven when you moved to Royce (and Dupont), and you are eighty-eight as you move your office out from there." His roots of seventy-seven years are currently being transplanted for the move that began a few weeks ago and is still underway. Possibly feeling uprooted, the address in his dream may have symbolized for him the importance of home, family, and neighborhood and of the significance of roots during the passage of a man's life.

A mysterious and exquisite experience occurred during a recent Scrabble game with my mother. On my second turn, I discovered a six-letter word hidden in the tiles that was so personal and meaningful to my mother at this time. "I have a word," I stated sheepishly and placed the tiles down. She then built on the word. We looked at each other and shook our heads in amazement. Perhaps the letters that I picked simply illuminated the closeness and connection that my mother and I share. Reminded again that all things are interrelated in beautiful ways, it is during these moments of compassion that I feel most seamlessly connected to the infinite energy of the universe.

And when this beautiful summer of 2011 stirs in my consciousness in years to come, my recollections will include remaining balanced while perched on the centre of the plateau watching my teenagers emerge into adulthood as my parents move through their senior years. Standing in Tadasana at fifty, I align myself and stand rooted in the unshakeable steadiness, grandeur, and peace of the mountain. I try to remember to breathe slowly, to love fully, and to remain receptive to the radiance of each moment. With this intention, I embrace yoga's tenets and experience the contentment and steadiness that it teaches me. As I unfold my yoga mat to practise in the same spot at the edge of the dock that I have practised in for three decades, I embody the light, and the learning continues.

"Yoga is a light which, once lit, will never dim. The better your practise, the brighter the flame is." - BKS Iyengar