Yesterday in our discussion of Pantajali’s Yoga Sutras Dr. Narahimsan was discussing the limitations of writing as a teaching and/or expressive medium. Writing/reading can only be expressed through the dimension of time. It’s linear. One word follows the other, and good writing will carry the listener forward. But how do we use the one dimensional medium of writing to express multidimensional experiences? In scholarly and creative writing, the reader becomes a huge player in process of communication for it is through the mind of the reader that he imagines the written story in his own unique way or deciphers the written knowledge based on his individual culmination of experiences. There are parallels here to music, but I won’t go into that just now. I chose to share these thoughts on writing as a medium because I am feeling its limitations. There is so much to this experience that I am having here in India, and words, even if I spend an ample amount of time arranging them, are so limited in their ability to convey the fullness of it all.
Today, Saturday, was the 6:30am group class at KPJYAI led by Saraswati. She told me as I walked out the door yesterday to be there at 6:15. No problem I thought. Chikana is always early and it only takes 10 minutes. I had a 6am pick-up scheduled. Well, 6am…no Chikana. 6:05am…no Chikana. 6:10am…still no Chikana. Then I started to worry a bit. Maybe he forgot? He was concerned yesterday because his little boy was sick. Is everything OK with the baby? What should I do? So I ran inside and found Mami, who directed me to just go to the main corner and wave down another rikshaw. So I ran out the door to do just that…and found Chikana coming down the road. “Sorry, Mam. Sorry, Mam. Class is at 6:30 right? It’s 6:25 I’ll get you there.”
Most things here in India do not begin “on time.” But the one thing that does begin “on time” is the led group class at KPJAYI. I knew I would be coming in late and could only imagine the disruption this might cause…the disappointment on Sarawati’s face, etc. But I thought, I’m going to go…better late than not at all.
As I suspected, Saraswati waved me into class but there was not a smile on her face. The only open spots were, you’ve got it, in “the middle.” This time I laid my mat down on what appeared to me to be a nice smooth surface, staggered between the two advanced practitioners in front of me, and went upstairs to toss my things in a locker. When I returned the class was just beginning surya namaskar B. I placed my feet together at the front of the mat, and mentally sighed, “Oh boy.” The rug that I was on was apparently “hiding” several overlapping rugs underneath it. These heavy duty large cotton rugs that cover the floor of the shala, have “hems” that are ¼ to ¾ of an inch thick. There were parts of several different rugs under the one I was on. Yep, I was on a very uneven surface. OK…more opportunities to practice dharana…concentration. Here we go.
The led group class moves at a slightly faster pace than my personal practice, which only added to my sense of instability. I kept up but felt like I was flailing. I made it through the bulk of the standing series up to uttitha hasta padagastasana (standing hand to big toe pose) – you stand on one foot, take the big toe of your other foot with the fingers of the corresponding hand, extend the leg forward and then reach your head toward your knee. It’s a challenging standing balance to say the least. Everyday since the first day, Saraswati has been providing a lovely assist in this pose. But…not today.
So my mind started thinking things like… “yep, she’s disappointed in me for being late and now I’m being punished…but it was the driver’s fault…Lisa, don’t make excuses for yourself…what does Patanjali say…whenever a negative thought arises replace it with a positive one…OK…she’s decided I’m strong enough to do this on my own…or better yet and probably more accurate, she’s not even thinking about me because she’s helping someone else learn the posture…it’s not about me…focus so you’ll be able to stay upright…lengthen your shoulders away from your ears, relax your jaw…breathe.” Alright, I’d finally arrived at practice.
From there on out, my concentration was better. I even got my usual assist in marichyasana D, a very pretzel-y posture…another one that I’d never been able to get on my own. And, it was then, as I was closely being held and pulled by this woman, totally trusting her ability to manipulate my body without hurting it, that I felt this wave of surrender. Something released emotionally for me, and soon after many images rushed to my mind.
Dr. Narahimsan had made a comment, somewhat casually a day or so ago, in reference to the concept of a Guru. Guru basically means, one who dispels darkness – Gu (darkness) Ru (light). The term in its most revered use refers to a spiritual teacher. In our modern world, the term has been used to refer to anyone who teaches a specialty – like a tennis guru, for example. Anyway, he commented on Westerners' difficultly with the Guru concept. They (we) can’t seem to express unconditional trust in another human being. I’ve actually thought about this before. If there were a reincarnation of Christ in today’s world, would we (I’m referring here to my Christian circle) be able to embrace that human form? What, if anything, would we expect him to do to prove that he is Christ? Would we reject him, like so many did during his day? I know what the initial response might be, “Well of course we would accept him!” But think about it…we’ve almost developed an understanding of Christ as something/someone so abstract and separate from humanity that it’s hard to even imagine the real possibility of him (and what if...he came as a her?!) in a human form. Can you really see yourself, lying on the earth, bowing down to this divine human, feeling the warmth and flow of blood in his body as you touch his dust covered feet – or perhaps in today’s world, his pair of Nikes?
On a lighter side, I think children really do understand. My son made this fantastic drawing of Christ as a Jedi. He also has a picture of Christ with sunglasses – he looks like a member of ZZ-Top. That is, in someway, more tangible. (By the way, I found this great poster of Iyengar at the Mysore Zoo, fully dressed in what looks like spiritual attire…with a huge pair of very trendy sunglasses! Gotta love it!)
I was also flooded with images of my parents. I read recently in a book by a Catholic psychologist, that most people develop a relationship with God that mirrors their relationship with their parents, particularly their fathers. If their fathers were loving and supportive, yet demanding of good behavior, then that is how they would view God. If their fathers were critical, never pleased, frequently propagating guilt, then that would color their relationship with God. Well, what if your parents just weren’t there? What if you couldn’t trust your parents to “show up”? I’m not trying to place blame or show disrespect here (they had their own battles), but just to look at the barriers to my own relationships – including my relationship with God.
In my thoughts this morning about disappointing Saraswati by being late, I was reminded of how much my son yearns to please his parents (and...how much students want to please their teachers). If he senses in the least way that either of us are disappointed, his little eyes begin to fill with tears, though he does his best to hold it in. And, he doesn’t seem to find peace until he feels we have totally forgiven him.
As parents, and teachers, it is sometimes necessary to express disappointment in order to do our jobs. Pattabhi Jois lamented, “It breaks my heart when the only way to teach a student is to be harsh.” Saraswati was far from being harsh this morning…though I knew she wasn’t pleased. I think perhaps she could sense my own disappointment in being late. But the thing is…she “showed up” for marichyasana D…the pose I still can’t get into by myself…and I was able to trust her to help me get there. After class, I approached her to say “Dhanyaavadhah” (Thank You) and also apologized for being late. She smiled and gave the Indian head bobble. I’d been forgiven.
Again, the words feel limiting.
5 comments:
About Shri BKS Iyengar's 'Spiritual Dress' ... nah! It is a dress that he felt comfortable in, nothing spiritual about it.
You are so right about whether we will recognize Jesus if, sorry WHEN (!), he returns... primarily because of our preconceived notion about how he should dress, eat, walk, behave and most importantly how he should 'preach'... AND any divergence will be unacceptable, nay blasphemous! Personally, I've mulled over it repeatedly - especially in the past few months - it reminds me how close-minded I can be!
That leads to 'Guru' - as with many other Sanskrit terms, there are multiple 'expansions' for Guru. Another one that I personally like is 'Gu' - gunaatiita - one who is beyond qualities (and qualifications), 'Ru' - rupa varjita - one who cannot be limited to a form (formless). Corollary - Guru can be in any form (since no form is his own) and be identified by any quality that mind can comprehend/grasp.
Your writing skills are amazing... the flow is wonderful and you move from one topic to another with the skill and ease of a professional. Hope you put together these pieces as a travelogue-essay/short novel. It will be a good inspirational read.
Of course, when! But will "when" be in the proximity of "today's world" - in another 100 years, etc.... who knows! :)
Thank you for sharing that perspective on the term Guru. I really like it. Another facet of the diamond.
On second thoughts... the 'when' may be NOW, always, forever... :)
Since he is 'gunaatiita', the human concept of time shouldn't apply to him, right?
Ahah! ....or Aham. :)
I tried posting this Saturday, but I guess it didn't go through.
Regarding the Sanskrit children's books, I found them in the WorldCat database, which is a library catalog of databases from around the world. If you would like me to request them through interlibrary loan, I would be happy to do that, although by the time you get back the due dates may have expired.
I enjoyed your Gurus in Sunglasses post today. The discussion about the limitations of language to express experience is quite interesting and goes to the heart of many questions in modern philosophy about the our ability to capture our experience in language and convey its meaning. So far, I think that you have done a great job of relating your experiences. Your description of being late to class and feeling unprepared seems so familiar and is something that we all have experienced in yoga, and in life. How very human!
The teacher-student relationship in yoga is very powerful, and in many ways seems similar to the parent-child relationship. Perhaps it is even more powerful in some ways. I readily notice it in terms of performance in my yoga practice. When I feel like I am in my teacher's favor, my practice seems robust and effortless. When I think that I have fallen from grace, my practice seems very ungraceful and difficult. It's like my inner gyroscope is off kilter. I can sometimes address this by engaging witness and approaching asana from a meditative perspective, but it is not always effective. A testimony to the power and delicacy of that bond!
The converse is also true. The teacher-student relationship can be a source of incredible motivation and healing that allows one to transcend one's limits. This is especially the case with discomfort and injury. A glance, a touch, or a comment from one's teacher can be enough to erase any negative sensations or difficulties a student may be experiencing and inspire the student to go beyond any mental or physical obstacles. Injuries seem less onerous and difficult poses seem more accessible in an almost magical way. Talk about transference!
It sounds like you are having a great time and that you are learning a lot on your trip. Thanks for sharing.
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