Today, I taught yoga by verbal instruction only. Students helped by giving visuals to one another as necessary. I have mixed feelings about the approach because my job is to facilitate my student's practice, not distract them. Nonetheless, I'm always grateful for their presence and support.
I returned to the first of my earlier class plans. This month at Yogawood and all Jivamukti-influenced studios we're exploring the koshas, or various layers of being. The first is annamaya kosha, the physical food body. We're taught that our liberation lies in engaging with each layer of our being and not negating any aspect. Our bodies need attention. They need to be moved and felt as well as rested (like when a foot is sprained. Doh.).
The next three bodies are subtler and intangible. Pranamaya kosha is the energetic self, sometimes experienced through breath as it leads to prana. By delving into the pranic body, we might also gain awareness of the energy in all beings.
Beyond the pranic body is manomaya kosha, the "mind-stuff" layer. This is sometimes the body we think of as "ourselves," the thinking self, the self identified with a place, people, time, aversions, and preferences. This, and vijnamaya kosha, the intuitive feeling body, are where we develop "I, me, mine" and ego identification. In my study, ego identification is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because by navigating ego identification and ultimately relinquishing the ego we know our true bliss nature. A curse, because ego is seductive and can be earth-shatteringly hard to shed.
Vijnamaya kosha is also associated with ego identification because here we sometimes construct an emotional self that also perceives itself as individuated and differentiated.
The state of yoga is in the ultimate body, the bliss body, anandamaya kosha, our true Self, the true nature. I think we all get glimpses of this bliss at times. Maybe in profound meditation or savasana, or being somewhere in the natural world where the other lesser identifiers feel less pertinent. Yet, in most conversations about ego-identification, there's a serious reluctance to relinquish. I have it too. I'm very attached to the assemblance of associations I've crafted. I like boho chic and gardening and activism and referencing the Simpsons. Don't take that away from me!
And yet, Kevin and I have conversations about how challenged we are when we can't cling to one of those identifiers. Kevin has been really busy with landscaping and didn't have time to write songs on his guitar. He looked at me, pained, and said, "Who am I?" (This actually happened.)
I associate so fervently with yoga that when I went to play with my 8 year old god-daughter last week (pre-sprain) she and her siblings yelled, "Let's do yoga!" (The delight!) And yet, I haven't been able to practice asana, or physical yoga in a week. Of course, I've meditated but that's a less showy practice of yoga. Who am I if I can't practice physical yoga? (Yes, I totally grasp the irony of that question.)
I remember when my Dad retired during my senior year of high school. His experience was far beyond my range of understanding, but I think back to it now. Who was he if not a lawyer?
I think of relationships ending. Who are we outside of that partnership?
In these instances, hopefully, we draw into something more profound, beyond the less reliable identifiers. Even if our relationships, work, and mobility are fully stable, don't we know on some level that our real Self lives outside of their realm?
In a sense, we have a truly schizophrenic relationship with our own liberation. We want it, we crave it, and yet we resist it. I think in part that's due to lack of familiarity. We know the "mind stuff," the constructed ego. What lies beyond it?
No comments:
Post a Comment