Pratyahara: Control of the Senses

Pratyahara: Control of the Senses

by Hannah Greenstreet

The fifth limb of yoga is abstract, complex, and requires drawing deep within to understand the intricate subtleties of our existence. This limb is called pratyahara and it is based on the withdrawal of the senses and our attachment to external objects. The word pratyahara means “to withdraw oneself from that which nourishes the senses.”  Pratyahara focuses on shifting our perceptions of reality by suspending outward reactive tendencies in order to pull that energy inward to be utilized in the body. Think of it as a retreat from outside stimulation. In the same way that yoga asana practice is meant to overcome the turning of the mind through intentional concentration, pratyahara embraces independence from external stimulants rather than living off of the thrills and sorrows of life around us.

By dissolving the attachments around us, we are fulfilled by the truth of direct experience as a sentient being. Getting intimate with our senses is not a simple task; for it requires sharp awareness and a conscious surrender to avoid the distractions of the exterior world.  So often in our daily reality, we are stimulated from the outside in.  This pratyahara reverses that concept and asks us to be vigilant with our perception within the boundaries of our being. Pratyahara is much harder to practice than other limbs like asana (posture) and pranayama (breathing) because it is a detailed look within which cannot be an easy process – it’s vulnerable, unknown, and silent. It gives us the chance to reveal our desires, work to avoid reacting to them and watch the inner body objectively with curiosity of existence. Pratyahara is the opportunity to drop further into our spiritual practice and discover our potential.

Pranayama: Breath Extension

Pranayama: Breath Extension

by Laura DeFreitas

The fourth limb of Patanjali’s eight-fold path is pranayama. Prana is often more simply translated as breath or energy.  Richard Freeman, is his book The Mirror of Yoga, states that prana can be more thoroughly understood to be “the substratum of all sensation, feeling, and thought, the medium through which all experience within the body presents itself.”  The word, ayama, means to not restrict or control – ‘a’ being a negation in the Sanskrit language and yama meaning restraint, as in the first limb of yoga. Together these words have come to be known as the set of breath extension techniques that affect the nervous system and subtle body in various ways in order to prepare the body and mind for the inner limbs of the yoga practice. Rather than elaborate on these varied breath practices and their effects, I’d like to focus on the breath as it relates to asana or posture practice.

There are many subdivisions of prana that describe its wide range of movements and patterns inside the body, but two are the most important for yoga practice, prana and apana.  Prana is the physical pattern of rising up, blossoming and spreading out. The prana pattern is associated with the inhalation and is said to dwell at the core of the heart, or the anahata chakra. Note that the word prana is used to describe both the pattern of the inhaling breath as well as the general idea of the breath.  Prana’s direct opposite is apana, the pattern of downward, inward and rooting movement in the body.  The apana pattern is said to live in the muladhara chakra, which is located in the center of the pelvic floor.  If you imagine a tree you can envision the joining of an expansive pattern with a grounding pattern.  As with the tree, these patterns are intimately linked – without the stability and nourishment the roots provide the expansion at the top of the tree would not be possible, and without this expansion there is not point in rooting.  They are like two lovers – yin and yang in the Chinese Taoist system – each in the heart of the other.  We may separate them in our minds in order to think about and experience them, but ultimately they can never truly be separated. 

These patterns initiate and inform the movement and alignment of the body in asana in such subtle and obvious ways that the entire practice can come to be seen as one continuous pranayama practice.  The breath is constantly providing a ripple of sensation for the mind to observe to the extent that it becomes the internal organizing principal of asana, the foundational form of practice within hatha yoga.  For example, the transition into the first position of the sun salutation when arms sweep upward and outward mirrors the prana pattern while the second position expresses the apana pattern by moving down and into a standing forward fold.  On a deeper and more complex level, these patterns of breath inform the positioning of each and every one of the body’s joints in each and every posture. Further, each joint continually combines a different degree of prana and apana thereby balancing primary action with counteraction making it a non-static, constantly changing and dynamic experience. Freeman states that, "the underlying process of hatha yoga is to explore the relationship of the inhale and the exhale; to discover the root of apana in the prana, and the expansion of prana in the apana." We do this initially by uniting the ends of the breath through observing and cultivating opposite physiological patterns.  When we inhale and the blossoming pattern naturally dominates we allow the mind to drop down into the roots of the body and the breath. To use the example above, when inhaling into the first form of the sun salutation we concentrate on the perineum and beyond into the legs and feet, which our extensions of the pelvic floor.  In this way we remain connected to the earth rather than floating off into the mental projections inherent to the stimulation at the top of the inhale.  Then when we exhale into the second form of the sun salutation and the rooting pattern is naturally dominant, we allow our mind to remain in the center of the heart. In this way our heart stays open and we are not overwhelmed by the seriousness of the exhalation that quite naturally brings sensations of fear, anxiety, dissolution and death.  An example of this joining of opposites is the movement of the shoulder join in reverse namaste (hands folded behind the heart in prayer position). One the exhalation we use the primary action of internal rotation (apana patern) to enter into the basic form of the upper arm bone but then, on inhalation, the counteraction (external rotation) is applied to keep the heart open as we fold into parsvottanasna or pyramid pose. The learning curve is such that we may first discover and cling to one extreme end of the prana-apana continuum, then, in compensation we may grasp onto its opposite.  In time, though this back and forth continues, it lessens and brings about a sense of integration and balance.  Through consistent practice we may eventually experience physically how the intertwining of the two breathing patterns affect the entire structure of the body and mind. 

With the opening of the “yogic body” in asana practice we learn to consciously join the prana and apana patterns.  We are able to draw the essence of the apana pattern up through the central axis of the body while simultaneously pressing down on the prana pattern causing them to ignite in the roots of the navel. The movement of breath can be imagined as bright tubes opening from one central channel into many branches that then return into a single tube within the core of the body.  In hatha yoga these tubes are referred to as nadis. Nadi means “little river.”  For most of us, our small rivers of breath and energy are all out of balance. Some flow a little, some not at all and still others are flood the system. Different classical yogic texts refer to different numbers of nadis but all give special attention to the ida, pingala and sushusmna nadis.  The ida nadi is considered to be the moon channel, which is said to be cooling and calming and is accessible through the left nostril.  The pingala nadi is considered to be the sun channel, which is heating and energizing and is accessible through the right nostril. These two “side channels” are also associated with different states of mind and it is said that when you stimulate one of these two primary channels you experience characteristic moods or modes of thinking associated with the temperament of that side.  The sushumna nadi is the empty channel right in the center of the core of the body and can be accessed through the root of the palate. Anatomically, the root of the palate begins in the soft palate in the back of the roof of the mouth where the uvula hangs down.  He root is like a cup immediately underneath the pituitary gland.   Yogic texts describe an endlessly extending flower called the sahasrara chakra, or the thousand-petaled lotus, originating at the root of the palate and opening through the crown of the head.  From the base of the sahasrara is the gateway to the central channel.  Here the three nadis, the central staff of the sushumna, the ida and the pingala from a caduceus.  Just like the wand of Hermes in Greek mythology, the two side channels wrap around the central staff so the two opposing qualities of the breath find their resolution and balance in the central axis. 

The practice of yoga asana and pranayama prepare the body and mind for this resolution.  If you even have a glimpse of the uniting of the complementary principles of sun and moon, prana and apana, inhale and exhale, something begins to occur in the pelvic floor.  According to yoga theory, the two streams of breath are allowed to unite when the blockage, or kundalini, between them is removed.  The root of the word kunda is “coil” thus leading to the image of a coiled serpent lying asleep at the base of the spine where prana and apana are attempting to unite.  To again quote Richard Freeman, “pranayama could be explained as various techniques for breathing that consciously join prana and apana as a means for freeing the inner breath so that it can unfold into its true liberated state.”  When the goddess of prana is freed the inner breath, the kundalini, uncoils and stands up straight along the central channel.  In other words, the breath becomes still and is concentrated in the central channel, allowing the normal world-constructing and world-interpreting activities of the mind to temporarily suspended and the mind enters a state of pure awareness. Recall Yoga Sutra I.3 – yoga is the suspension of the fluctuations of consciousness (yogas-citta-vrtti-nirodhah).  In the context of asana practice we skillfully extend the length and smoothness of the inhale and exhale as we churn and wring out the body in order to allow the prana and apana to unite and flow easily into an unobstructed central channel so that deep levels of meditation or samadhi can arise. Because the image of the goddess standing upright in the base of the pelvis is so vivid and colorful it is important to remember that the process of yoga is really about the observation of what is and not the reduction of it to our theories or images of what we think it should be.  Internal imagery may help us to observe and experience the subtle and obvious effects of the breath but if we hold onto them too tightly we may miss the experience we are seeking all together.  So as a final metaphor for the breath, through our practice we must cultivate the razor’s edge of intelligence that occurs in the balance of discriminative awareness (inhalation) and complete non-attachment (exhalation) in order to see everything, just as it is, without the mind’s overlay of theories, preconceptions and expectations.  This is the yoga of action – on and off the mat.

This brief, and albeit superficial, description of pranayama is based on primarily on my experience at Richard Freeman’s 2012 Teacher’s Intensive and my own personal experiences with asana and pranyama over the last ten years.  Richard’s book “The Mirror of Yoga” is highly recommended to anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the concepts presented above.

Asana: Posture Practice

Asana: Posture Practice

by Hannah Greenstreet

The third limb of Patanjali's eight limbs of yoga is asana. The Sanskrit word asana translates as the verb “to sit”, a simple, yet profound posture. In this seated state, we have the opportunity to explore the depth of the mind and draw on the fabric of truth in order to experience yoga's ultimate aim of self-realization.  Asana is often more loosely translated as posture practice. Although asana practice is what the Western world thinks of as the entirety of yoga, there is a comprehensive and vast world of yoga that reaches far beyond our physical bodies. Patanjali, the author credited with the Yoga Sutras, mentions asana in only two of the 196 sutras. Within these two sutras, Patanjali conveys the need for each posture, or asana, to be both steady and comfortable (II.47).  In this way the practice of all asasna has the power to prepare the body and mind for the latter and more internal limbs of yoga, including long periods of seated meditation.  These two qualities open up the possibility to remain seated for long periods of time in order to allow the mind to reveal its innermost workings, struggles, desires, needs, and inherent goodness. Without inviting the patience of sitting in silence and being steady in focus, the mind will continue to turn reality into fiction, or chitta vritti (I.2).

In order to discover this balanced state of steadiness and ease, it is essential that we reach past our individual being and merge with the infinite and divine. In our practice of asana we must also allow forced effort, tension, and stress to fade away from the pose so that we can be content. This requires a motionless ease – a blending of relaxation with the subtle but strong concentration of the mind. It is not about becoming passive, checked out or avoiding reality. Rather, this state of tranquility, although contrary to the majority of society, is radiant in consciousness and transforms the negative messages of the mind to a positive light of truth in our existence. Initially we cultivate this razor's edge union through a series of postures linked with breath.  The field of sensation offered by the body and breath become a tether for the mind, harnessing it's energy to the present moment.  With consistent practice, the mind and body are able to remain in this harmonious state of spacious attention for longer periods of time and assuming a formal meditative seat comes naturally.  By being able to achieve this state in both formal seated meditation and yoga asana practice, we offer ourselves freedom from the boundaries of our mind and liberate to the infinite spirituality that permeates into our lives and throughout our community.

This sacred posture is a practice in itself, exceeding a series of postures that compose a class or home practice. It is an artistic map of something bigger than ourselves; the chance to slow, steady and reassure ourselves that we are important, good enough, and a small (very small) part of the whole. In this posture, we find the sensations and awareness to observe the negative, positive and in between. Therefore, asana and meditation are synonymous, exposing the root of our suffering and inviting the space to find the solution. And somehow, although this is an individual and personal experience, it drives connectivity and unity with others and those who have come before us. It is without judgment, without explanation, and without performance. The experience is the complete embodiment of purity in the present. It is a simple choice to take a simple seat and simply observe…may you enjoy! 

Ishvara Pranidhana: Surrender to God

Ishvara Pranidhana: Surrender to God

by Beau Boucher

Ishvara Pranidhana culminates the Niyamas, those things we should do. Practice of the previous Niyama, Svadhyaya, leads to the realization that divinity is present within each one of us. Ishvara Pranidhana is the practice of surrendering to and dedicating yourself to that divinity. Divinity is known by many names throughout the world, and by even more throughout history- for simplicity lets say God. The practice of yoga then, is the science of God realization. Yoga is a science. Often in the yoga world there is the implied notion that science is materialistic and devoid of spiritual value, but science is not the enemy of God. Science is God explaining God to God through the phenomenon of the human nervous system. Chemistry, physics, mathematics- these are the languages of God.

    

Yoga is often defined as union of the body and mind, or individual consciousness with universal supreme consciousness. The fact is, God is already here. God is already inside each one of us, and when you shift your perception in this manner, the whole world shifts with you. Yoga asks us to adopt the inner attitude that the person or individual is not doing anything. That everything one does comes from God, and belongs to God. Every breath, every action, every moment, is a divine movement of the eternal. As long as you think of yourself as a person, you'll see persons everywhere, but once you relinquish the personal, then you'll see the universe everywhere, you'll see God everywhere. In yogic philosophy, the practice of adoration and devotion to God is referred to as Bhakti.

    

To practice Bhakti is to practice Love. This means you keep your attention on love- you think about love, express love, respond to any gesture of love from your environment- and most importantly, you radiate love. Love is a force, like electromagnetism or gravity. What is gravity? It has no mass and is invisible, yet it's a known force that shapes the fabric of our reality. Love, as well, is a force that shapes the fabric of our reality. Love has the ability to rearrange the atoms of one's face into a smile, to cause the release of beneficial biochemicals throughout the body- love has the power to heal. It's known that if babies do not receive love and affection they have a strong chance of developing psychosocial dwarfism. This means if love and affection are absent, regardless of nutrition, the child's body will not utilize Human Growth Hormone even though it is present. This means that without love - the infinite intelligence that builds the human body from a single cell to trillions of cells, loses motivation. Without the force of love from another human being, divine consciousness is rendered incapable of organizing atoms into a healthy child. Love is not a metaphysical abstract concept- love is a tangible force, and once you create a vibration of love around you, you inevitably attract loving relationships and the ability to heal others simply with the vibration of your presence. Ishvara Pranidhana is the practice of radiating love in all directions at all times- for if God is everywhere, if God is infinite- then so too must be our love and devotion.

Svadhyaya: Self-Study

Svadhyaya: Self Study

by Amrito Cross

This month’s theme and the fourth niyama is Svadhyaya: the study of sacred texts, or self study.  Most of us have been trained that the way to improve our experiences is to get other people and circumstances to change.  Have you noticed that this doesn’t work?  That’s because they are our experiences, and the common denominator in all of them is ourselves.  If we keep being the same – same thoughts, feelings, words and actions – we will keep having the same experiences.  Self study is about looking in a mirror and observing the light of our true Self, as well as noticing the habits and patterns of the small self, personality or ego identity.  The more we know our higher Self, the more we can observe our small self with neutrality and compassion, noticing the habits of thinking, feeling, speaking and acting which are no longer serving our highest good.  This simple awareness is the first step in making a change.  This is freedom.

If looking in the mirror for self-awareness is our intention, then anything and everything can be the mirror, from studying sacred texts, to interacting with a grocery checker, your partner, family or friends, to paying taxes, dealing with an illness, working, asana practice or riding your bike.

Often, the first habit to overcome in order to allow self study, is the habit of thinking that what’s bothering us is to do with something external.  Try this experiment: next time you’re upset, stop, take a deep breath and ask yourself what you’re upset about.  In the middle of your answer, interrupt yourself, and say, “No it’s not that.  I’m upset because of the way I’m looking at this.  How can I look at this differently?”

Tapas: Discipline

Tapas: Discipline 

by Beau Boucher

Tapas, the third Niyama, is translated literally as “to burn.” What does Patanjali mean by burn, what are we burning, and why are we burning it? When we incorporate the concept of Tapas in our Sadhana, our lifelong practice, we burn on two levels: physical and mental. The practice of yoga gives us an opportunity to manipulate and ultimately transform both of these dimensions. Gary Kraftsow refers to the process of yoga as: a process of self-awareness that leads to a deeper sense of self-understanding, and through this self-understanding we enter the process of self-transformation. What Gary describes is the process of burning, just like Nataraja dancing the destructive Tandava in order to bring forth new creation.

    

We can illustrate this metaphor of burning a little more clearly if we take a look at yoga classes. Lets divide yoga classes into two categories, Yin and Yang. Yang being the more active, sweaty classes and Yin being more relaxed, calming classes. Yang classes give us a chance to purify the physical body, remove toxins, develop good posture and healthy movement patterns, increase muscle and decrease fat, strengthen every system of the body, find focus and balance, and just generally feel good in our skin. In Yang we burn away and eliminate undesirable things on the physical plane. In Yin we have time to contemplate, to observe- and naturally we move more into the mental aspect. Yin is a practice of acceptance, patience, observance, and non-reactivity. Yin gives us an opportunity to take inventory of our mental space, a chance to become aware of those things that are no longer serving us, and to throw these negative patterns into the fire and allow them to dissolve. As J. Krishnamurti put it, “the highest form of human intelligence is to observe yourself without judgement.”

    

So we can think of Tapas, or this burning, as a process of transformation. We develop self-discipline, overcome obstacles, and make sacrifices for the greater good. We burn away our negative attributes, in order to become the highest version of ourselves, strong enough to not only take care of ourselves, but to have enough strength to help those around us. Every time you step to your mat, you can think of Tapas and know the reason you're stepping into the fire is bigger than yourself.

Santosha: Contentment

Santosha: Contentment

by Laura DeFreitas

John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.”  A culture raised on the grass-is-greener principal, in a country indoctrinated in the church of hard work dogma, is it any wonder that while we hurriedly prepare for life’s next big event and advertisers magnify this sense of longing in us, the second niyama, santosha or contentment, is constantly just out of reach. Yoga reveals the path to the innate calm and abiding stillness that we are. 

Patanjali states in Sutra 2.5, “Lacking self-awareness, one mistakes that which is impermanent, impure, distressing and empty of self for permanence, purity, happiness, and self.”  This ignorance weds us to a perpetual wheel of suffering.  We think we are free but in truth, we spend vast amounts of energy clinging to that which gives us pleasure and avoiding that which puts our pleasure at risk or we see as repulsive.  Further, we expect our preferences to be a source of eternal bliss yet their achievement is often anti-climatic or disappointing and, without much ado, we are off striving after the next “if only” key to supreme happiness. Yoga philosophy tells us that all things are inherently neutral.  In truth, the full spectrum of sensation, energy, emotion and thought are simply exquisite feedback mechanisms aiding us in our journey to become sensitive and effective caretakers of our being.  It is our personalized labels that color experiences in a way that makes them appealing or repulsive and keeps us spinning.  All this maneuvering to between pleasure and avoidance shows up as the physically feeling of gripping in the body.  The first nine months of my relationship was long distance.  Each time my boyfriend and I would have the chance to see each other there was a simultaneous clinging to the joy of being together and a tense defense against the unpleasantness of our inevitable parting.  Seeking and avoiding are expensive uses of our energy that result in the failure to appreciate the moment.  Yoga Nidra teacher, Richard Miller, offers that in order to set energy free to experience the moment, we not only agree to ride life’s waves but we actively welcome them.  As Bob Marley put it, “Some people feel the rain.  Others just get wet.”  We can always trace our emotional disturbances back to ourselves and thus, we keep ourselves out of contentment we so desperately seek. 

The 13^th century mystic poet Jelaluddin Rumi expresses this coalescence of extremes:

Out beyond of ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.  I’ll meet you there. 

When the soul lies down in that grass,

The world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense.

Finding and remaining in this place of equanimity is simple but not easy.  As with most things, it takes consistent practice over a long period of time. Each time we step onto the yoga mat we have an opportunity to cultivate contentment by genuinely listening to the many cues our body/mind offers and choosing to honor that feedback by modifying or intensifying the pose as appropriate.  This is done without comparison to what the pose looked like yesterday or in anticipation of what it will look like tomorrow. The balance of effort and ease in any given yoga posture is a constantly changing dance with the breath. Quoting the late master teacher Pattabhi Jois, “Yoga is an internal practice.  The rest is just a circus.”  An advanced practitioner hovers on the cusp of his or her intelligent edge of sensation - a place that is neither too much nor too little.

Contentment also requires a healthy dose of surrendering to the great many things in life that we cannot control.  There is a paradox to contentment: the more we seek it or need it to look a certain way, the more it eludes us.  It is easy to feel happy when life is going our way but what about when chaos abounds?  Discontentment is the illusion that there can be something else in the moment.  There isn’t.  The moment is complete exactly as it is.  The paradox of contentment allows us to appreciate what we have and to fall in love with our life.  Next time you are feeling bored, depressed or overwhelmed consider making a gratitude list.  Whether mental or hand-written, list everything you are grateful.  From the moon and stars to the shoes on your feet nothing is too small.  I have a gratitude jar.  In it are little reminders of life’s fullness that I will review at the year’s end.  Practicing gratitude cultivates the fertile soil for contentment to take root by keeping us centered in the joy and abundance of our life. Contentment is like a tall tree so rooted in the Earth no storm can topple it.