Niyamas

Purity and Sweat

Posted by Dhruti on May 13, 2011 | 0 comments

#5 in a series of posts that addresses the topics listed in this article.

“Wear deodorant. Look up the Sanskrit word “saucha.” It means “cleanliness.” No one wants to smell you; it’s off-putting.”

Diving right in, the word Saucha means so much more than cleanliness and certainly does not refer solely to the body.  That’s the amazing thing about Sanskrit, there are multiple meanings for words.  Saucha includes bodily cleanliness, but also cleanliness of mind and of the way we live our lives.  Furthermore, Saucha is not merely a word, but is one of the five Niyamas, the second limb of Patañjali’s Ashtanga Yoga.  My preferred translation is Purity, which can then be further understood to mean taking care of ourselves.  But, to take care of oneself, one needs to pay attention.  Anything you do affects your stillness and living with purity is an invitation to not only pay attention to whatever you are doing, but your reaction to it, eventually leading you to ask yourself what the effect would be before you do it.

What compels you to practice yoga?  Whatever the reason – increased strength, happiness, improved health, ease, less stress, enlightenment – you need to remember up front that yoga is not about getting what you want.  Remember this post?  I wrote that yoga is about breaking our reactive patterns to any given situation, on or off the mat.  This applies to what you, or anyone else, may smell during a practice.  People can sweat during an asana practice; it’s what our bodies are designed to do.  Requesting that someone not sweat, or in this case wear deodorant, is tantamount to ordering your preferred ideal.  Wearing deodorant is your choice, but instead of dwelling on the odor of your classmates (or yourself), I encourage you to practice Saucha and pay attention to what is happening to you and how your reactions are affecting you and ultimately your stillness.  Allow me to ask this:  If deodorant is designed to cover up and mask odor, how is covering up reality ever going to be enlightening?

Jai Bhagwan

Feelin’ Blue

Posted by Dhruti on Dec 5, 2010 | 0 comments

There is no other title more appropriate than this.  I am, quite literally, blue.  For the past several weeks I have anticipated how I might introduce the color scheme for the new studio.  I had decided upon a simple swipe of the roller across the newly primed drywall; highly contrasted blue against the white.  Well, as I have learned at every stage of this construction journey, my plans have nothing to do with it.

As I prepared and taped the exterior door and readied the paint sprayer (because sprayed doors just look oh so nice), I began to think about this post today and how I would delightfully reveal the wall color.  Well, a few seconds into spraying, the machine quit working.  I mean that exactly as it sounds.  It stopped.  I checked the valves and such, and as I did so everything jumped and jolted into sudden life and not only did the sprayer begin to spray, the reservoir that  holds the paint bubbled up and the machine backfired blue spots all over the walls, ceiling, windows, and freshly painted white doors.  Right now, the studio is white with blue polka dots.  The doors, however, have been restored to their former glory of plain white; well, except the door that is supposed to be blue!

So, I ask, what would you have done in my position?  Would you have cursed up a storm?  Stamped your feet?  Placed blame?  Cried your eyes out?  I admit to shedding tears.  In two seconds I watched and evening’s worth or work spoiled.  I was devastated, honestly and wholeheartedly.  I sat down on the cold floor, in a puddle of blue paint, and cried.  Now, why would I cry?  Would crying fix it?  Would crying clean up the mess and reverse the splatter?  No.  What it did was release tension, fear, and frustration.  It allowed the devastation to leave; I let it go freely, without judgment or fear of looking like a cry-baby because things didn’t go as planned.

As the frustration began to subside I thought about the Niyamas (one of the eight limbs of yoga), or more specifically, Santosha. Yes, I really thought about this!  The tears began to slow, I wiped my eyes with blue hands (which was funny) and thought about what Santosha means and why on Earth I would think about it at such a moment.  I was taught, rather simply, Santosha means contentment; not ultimate contentment, but being okay with whatever is happening, however it shows up.  In my own way, crying was accepting that I was frustrated and had even more work ahead of me, but if I let those feelings of discontentment settle then I would have made things far worse for myself, for I would not only have more work, but I would have felt miserable and angry about it.

In a nutshell – a blue one – accidents happen and yoga can really help your outlook when they do.  This doesn’t mean you’ll always accept everything however it shows up, heavens no!  But, there is a sense of ease available in those moments as well.  I discovered this within hundreds of little blue dots.  I’m grateful for the experience.

Oh, and the studio is going to be blue!