Developing Practice with Yoga Images

As a way of developing my understanding and going deeper into my Yoga practice, I collect and study myths, stories, and pictures of Indian deities. This week I've provided a few images and written some reflections on their possible meanings. These images are full of devotion and often connected to sacred stories that contain Yogic teachings. I've found that studying Yoga imagery and stories clarifies and shows the depths of the basic techniques of ashtanga practice: asana, pranayama, bandha, vinyasa rhythm, dristi, japa mantra, and meditation. Using Imagery allows you to withdraw inwards with more ease during practice. The myths and images of Yoga are meant to help create internal maps that show how to orient within the body to optimize awakening consciousness.

The scenes convey Yogic symbols that are powerful visual cues that are meant be absorbed within the body and within the deeper mind. They are purposely not meant to be absorbed in a merely intellectual manner, that is why they are presented as stories and images, and why they make so much sense as they occur to you when practicing. Using the stories and imagery helps you absorb the deepest aspects of practice but also there is a fun aspect to it, contemplating a story or an image is playful, sleuth like--absorbing, and fascinating; It's vexing and enlightening to muse over possible meanings and applications to practice. My hope for this post is to spark a curiosity in you, that you'll become steeped in the imagery of Yoga to the point that when you're practicing these images will arise from within your posture, from within your flow, from within your receptivity and concentration and guide you into how to orient your self with more wisdom, ease and soul.

MAN IN LOTUS RIDING FISH
I love this image because it gives you a playful, powerful, accurate image of an Asana's flow. Yoga postures are about striking firm, clear, rooted positions and becoming fiercely immovable. But also when you find 'the immovable spot', there is such a fluidity to it; it's much more like a ride than becoming immovable like a statue. But perhaps most important is I want you to take this picture literally, what if you were in the sea working on your seated asana's riding on an amiable fish. What would you feel? You would have to connect to the ground in an entirely different way. You would have to connect to the ground as not static--but in motion-- alive and with a fluidity not unlike the course of fish swimming in the sea. Depth in asana work requires you to tune into this kind of subtle motion of the ground under you. The image of riding a fish is a perfect analogy for how to tune into the 'fluidity of rootedness'. The earth is constantly in motion under your feet or seat and this will effect how you do your asana work. If you can become aware of this vibratory movement it will effect your entire practice. I also appreciate that this work was carved centuries ago, and thus shows that the animal energy and flow aspect of asana practice is ancient yet continues to thrive, is still developing, and will be passed along to the future generations of passionate Yoga artists.

This image must be unique in connecting seated asana's with swimming fish!--until now I never quite made the connection that fishes swimming in the sea are serious Yogi's!

DURGA RIDING TIGER
According to the yoga sutra's when thoughts or feelings cause attraction or aversion within me, forces go into play that obscure my ability to discern and really be present. When I learn to concentrate and settle my mind then I see reality. During the times the mind is not settled, I don't see reality, but instead I identify with the various thought patterns. My mind continually spins out reality obscuring patterns. Even though their qualities are phantom like and illusory, somehow I'm repeatedly fooled into thinking that these patterns are substantial and real. Identifying with thought patterns translates into me reacting to sensations and experiences in automatic and habitual ways rather than with receptivity, flow, and with what is appropriate at this very moment.

It seems so simple to wake up, to see, to be alive and to respond creatively in each new moment. And yet the image of Durga riding a tiger shows how difficult it really is to live in a state where my mind is settled and I see things as they really are. Consider the tiger she's riding. The tiger represents illusion, desire, aversion, the powerful, root forces that cause the reality obscuring patterns of consciousness. The forces that cause me to misperceive reality are as powerful and dangerous as a wild tiger.

And the triumph of seeing through my illusions is on a par with taming and riding a tiger. As a goddess Durga has conquered illusion within herself, she has made peace with the forces within that cause thought waves to spin forth. This image reminds me of the mastery that can come to me so naturally when I orient as I'm meant to. Energetically Durga represents the source, wisdom, the hidden knowledge lodged in my heart. Her image shows me that my animal powers are meant to serve my heart wisdom. She shows me the proper relationship between the energetic forces within me where my Self (Durga) commands and (the tiger) my mind and senses serve my heart.

Symbology of the weapons:
Trident: symbol of the 3 guna's the primary strands or qualities (sattva, rajas, tamas) that make up all material phenomenon. Durga has achieved the ultimate Viaragya (detachment) in that the guna's do not push or pull her any direction. she has gone beyond the guna's and thus she can conquer even the most fierce demon.

The sword: the sword is a symbol for discrimination. Progress in Yoga means being able to think clearly and to see things with accuracy. Often in my lack of clarity, I misread my experience and so my mind causes me unnecessary pain. I place value on things that are not worthy and I undervalue the treasures that are right in front of and within me. My deep Self as Durga wields the sword of discrimination and thus is able to cut through this fog of ignorance.

The severed head: The real Self in my depths is fierce and symbolically severs my head from my body. This means my ego, my wrong ideas's about who I am and the petty self absorbed feelings and thoughts that normally rule my inner world must be killed. The locust of power within has to dramatically shift from a small ego centered place to a deep, large, powerful center that creates and embraces my self and others and realizes everyone's integral part in the cycles of existence that lead to Consciousness.

Agni: God of Creative Fire

(Pavan is another name for Vayu)

In two previous blogs I discussed the ancient Vedic practice of personifying the elements. One reason to give the elements features and personalities is to get more experientially in touch with the qualities they each possess. Through stories and pictorial representations you identify with and relate to fire, earth, wind etc as living beings, as allies that show you the pitfalls to avoid in practice and how to gain wisdom and go further into Yoga. I'll continue that theme by looking at Agni, the God of fire. Agni is an important Vedic deity who is the 'vital spark', the element of life in everything animate and inanimate. 'He is the fire of the sun, of lightning, and of the hearth of worship, and is the divine personification of the fire of sacrifice'. In art Agni is portrayed as a red man with 2 flaming heads (one benevolent, one malevolent) , 3 legs and 7 arms. He rides a Ram and wears a garland of fruit. Agni has 7 tongues (each with a special name) to better lick up the offerings of ghee added to the sacrificial fire. The offerings are poured into Agni's mouth and he then passes them on to the Gods. He also conducts the Gods to the sacrificial locations on earth. Thus Agni is known as a messenger between earth and heaven, between men and Gods. I've included 3 stories about Agni at the bottom of the page. I've used themes contained in those stories as references in my article, so you may find it helpful and inspiring to read them.

The fire sacrifice is the heart of Vedic worship and is a religious ceremony conducted by one or more priests who build a fire in a specially constructed pit that serves as the altar. The priest then chants sacred verses in sanskrit from the Vedas while throwing various offerings of ghee (clarified butter), flowers, and herbs into the fire. The purpose of the ritual is to bring the participants in direct contact with God by connecting them with the elements, the underlying forces that cause life. Agni is the God of fire and is known as the hotr: the head 'priest' who presides over the sacrifice. In India, during the peak of Vedic times, the ritual sacrifices became lengthy and elaborate requiring hundreds of priests, large amounts of money and months or even years to perform. At some point these rituals ceased to provide spiritual nourishment to growing numbers of people. Perhaps, in reaction to the increasingly complex Vedic rituals, people began experimenting with completely opposite alternatives. Some of them withdrew into solitude and created Yoga and Meditation practices; began to map the world within the body in order to connect with Divinity. They found that using imagery to create the entire fire ritual within the body brought transformation and wisdom.

Modern Yoga has roots in this lineage. Daily, in your Ashtanga practice, you have the opportunity to beautifully enact a fire sacrifice. Using bandha's, dristi, and ujjayii your torso becomes the fire pit altar. Awareness is the fire and your sacred movement of asana's are the oblations that you continually offer to the fire. You are Agni with seven tongues licking up the offerings and carrying them to your core where the wisdom of your heart is nourished.

Because fire is THE most important element in practice, you must work consciously with your fieriness or lack of. It can require tremendous energy to get to a place where fire presides over your practice, where tapas leads you-- where action, will, effort, concentration, perseverance, care, love, and enthusiasm all lead you. These are the qualities that spark and ignite your creative fire. You utilize the basic techniques in practice to bring forth your benevolent fire, to generate the right kind of heat in the right proportions. The techniques are meant to give you the ability to skillfully manage fire, to generate or dissipate heat at will. That is why it is so vital to study these fundamentals and to continue to refine them and become more skilled in applying them. When you are unskilled, either through lack of experience or negligence, you have less access to your fire, to your passion, and less access to caring about what's most important to you. Hence you may have to work harder to generate heat and to access your mental power. And you may not be accurate in your perception of what and where your center is in relation to your fire. As you become skilled, you see how proper breathing generates fire, applying bandha's generates fire, dristi creates fire, meditation and focus generate fire, and work with the flow of vinyasa sequencing generates fire. You learn to work with fire adeptly and with care as a craftsman or artisan; as does a chef or a blacksmith or a steeler at steel forge. According to Rumi: ''The cook says: I was once like you fresh from the ground. Then I boiled in time and boiled in the body. Two fierce boilings. My animal soul grew powerful. I controlled it with practices and boiled some more and boiled once beyond that..."

Agni has two heads, one benevolent, one malevolent. Benevolent fire nourishes, gives warmth, light, and thus Agni is welcome in every home. He sustains life. He gives comfort, has charisma, joins people together and brings a magical, joyous glow to any gathering. In practice you cultivate the benevolent fire within to ride the flowing vinyasa lines that combine effort and receptivity. You hone in on just the right rhythm, depth and tone of breath in conjunction with subtle action of bandha's. You continue to work with your mind tuning in to thoughts, emotions, memories, longings and all the variety of turnings. Since he is known as 'the fire of the sun', Agni is associated with Surya the sun God. Agni sometimes accompanies Surya on his daily ride across the sky in his chariot led by seven horses. Surya's realm in the heavens is a symbol for the head and so his light represents consciousness and spiritual intelligence. Visnu's (God as sustainer) celestial weapon of choice is called the sudardarshan cakra, known as the discus of light and is fashioned from fragments of the sun's rays. Visnu takes unerring aim, hurls this discus, and chops off the heads of offending demons. Visnu's discus is the ultimate symbol for consciousness, the mental qualities of fiery brilliance, laser like intensity and ability to cut through ignorance. In practice you become an observer, a shaper, and a friend of the powerful, fiery quality of mental energy and you learn to direct this energy where you choose. When you work intimately with fire in practice you cultivate Tapas, the heat caused by the friction of reining in the mind and redirecting the energy of the senses. Sri K. Pattabhi Jois said that when you're established in tapas: "impurities are destroyed, the antah karana (inner instrument, made up of mind, intellect, ego, and the faculity of discrimination) becomes purified and the body and sense organs are perfected".

Fire's qualities also include burning, destruction, and episodes of disappearance and hiding. Agni has a malevolent head; he burns and destroys, can ravage virtually everything in his path. Through his destruction, Agni brings death, sorrow, loss, and pain. To be in relationship with fire is to accept risk and hence the necessity to respect its power in your practice because uncontrolled fire will burn leading to pain and injury. Agni has red skin, the same color as anger, tension, lust, and inflammation. Too much fire can make you frustrated, irritable, intolerant, narrow minded, and prone to extreme emotions and bursts of temper. Excessive fire can lead to pushing, bullying your self and others, and possibly even lead to disease. Agni is known to be unpredictable, wild, and reluctant to be yoked to the domestic hearth. But also not generating enough fire can be equally detrimental. If you can't really access your fire you may not be in touch with your center, with your creative purpose. The body may remain cold and get stuck, and be difficult to open. Injury can result from attempting postures when the body is not sufficiently heated and malleable. More importantly lack of internal fire can prevent purification and transformation. The fiery qualities of passion and enthusiasm help you overcome lethargy and resistance and give you the energy to persevere through challenges and enjoy the beauty that you create on the mat each day.

Because he represents purification and renewal, Agni's benevolent role in the inner imagery of practice takes on further dimensions. Due to the softening of Brgu's curse (see story #3), Agni purifies everything he consumes. Agni is known to be a friend of Vayu (the life breath of the Gods) whom he strengthens and helps. When you use ujjayii to cultivate the free flow of Prana throughout the torso you awaken the body's innate ability to purify and cleanse itself by way of breath. With Ujjayi you also stimulate the Vishuddhi cakra in the throat area. Vishuddhi means purity. Working intimately with the throat and palate releases the jaw, relaxes the brain, enhances the cycle of the breath and enables Prana to pervade the body. Vayu and Agni work in tandem to purify the body from the surface layers of skin to the core, going specially into the heart and the depths of consciousness. Purification comes from the sacrifices you make when you choose to practice Yoga seriously.

Sacrifice literally means 'to make holy', or the offering of anything to God, or to a divinity. This is the real heart of Yoga practice: to use your creative fiery life force to find your connection with Divinity and to share that connection somehow. You also use your fire to face what blocks you from connection. Sacrifice means simplifying, reining in, choosing to abstain or let go, to center, to respond to the necessity for growth, to an urge for depth and renewal. You choose to follow your deeper more soulful longings over shallower more external and immediate longings. You make the effort to bring what is unconscious to consciousness. You face things about your self that you'd rather hide from. You face your anger, your greed, your dependence, your lethargy, your doubt and cynicism. You face your past, how you were raised, what sorts of negative experiences, habits, and beliefs you've been carrying around with since childhood. You experience and move through your pain from the past, the hardships you've encountered that now cause conditioned negative habit responses. Agni loses his ability to successfully perform the sacrificial rites because he gets fat taking in too many offerings. He's too sluggish and lacking in fire to prevent small disturbances from stopping him. Practice gives you strength and stamina, gives you the ability to adopt a positive outlook even in the midst of apparently overwhelming contrary evidence, without blindness or naivete. The vigor and physical challenge of practice is like getting an opportunity to burn the Khandava Forest each day. You abstain from eating and drinking before and during practice, you empty out, breathe, and sweat. You blaze and flow and have another chance for renewal today. When Agni saw his 3 brothers preside over the sacrifice (as 3 fire sticks), he saw them burn and then die. Fearing death he hid and could only be coaxed back by being granted a long life and a share of the offering in the form of Soma, the elixir. Perhaps this means in order to benefit from practice you have to commit and become steady, you can't continue to hesitate or doubt, nor can you afford inconsistency, the pattern of stopping and starting or trying one thing then another. Unless you dedicate your self to your creative fire long term, it will continue to hide and elude you. Even when you show up to practice everyday fire is whimsical, some days it's plentiful and robust, other days it seems absent or a difficult kindle to stoke. When your creative fire hides look for it in the feet and thigh bones. Look for it within the pelvis and the rhythmic movements of the pelvic floor. Look for it at the end of the out breath and at the origin of the in breath. Look for it within the torso, along the spine, and in the space between the pelvis and head. Look for it within your vinyasa rhythm as you create flowing transitions. Look for it within your throat and voice and the sound of your breath. Look for it in the circulation of Prana throughout the body. Everyday you are compelled to feed this fire and steadily work with your inner evolution.

Story One

One common theme in Agni stories is that he's always being searched for because he either disappears or hides. In one such myth, Agni hides when he sees that his three brothers, symbolized as three fire sticks, die after performing their duties as presiders over the sacrifice. Agni is next in line for the job, but fears death, and also has a distaste for the domestic duties of hotr, leader of the fire sacrifice. So he goes into hiding in one of three places. He hides in the earth (wood and plants), in 'the waters', and in the sky. After a prolonged search by men and gods, Agni is found in the plants. To win his agreement the gods offer him immortality; he also demands and receives a share of the sacrifice in the form of soma (the elixir, or intoxicating beverage). Agni is thus bribed into coming back to perform his duties as hotr.

Story Two

The Sage Brgu has carried off a betrothed woman to his home. The Rakshasa (demon) who had intended to marry her went searching for her and the Sage. He came upon Agni and demanded to know where he and his betrothed resided. Agni was known for not being able to tell a lie as well as being able to go into the hearth fire of every home. Thus he knew where the woman and Sage lived. Since Agni told the Rakshasa where his woman was, Brgu cursed Agni and said he would be an 'omnivore', and would consume everything, pure and impure, indiscriminately. Agni protested this curse as unfair and disappeared from every hearth. The cosmos went dark and cold. Brahma coaxed him back. He was able to soften the curse by stipulating that Agni, no matter what he burned, would remain pure and that everything he burned, both pure and impure, would be purified. Mollified, Agni returned to action bringing warmth, light, and fierce leader of the fire sacrifice.

Story Three

A story from the Mahabharata features Krishna and Arjuna as well as Indra (the most important Vedic God), and Agni (the second most important Vedic God). Agni has grown fat by consuming too much of the ghee that was offered to him by his worshippers and has become too heavy and sluggish to properly maintain the sacrificial fire. Indra known for his jealousy of Agni, saw an opportunity to take advantage of Agni's weakened state; he sent a small rain shower or a gust of wind down upon each of Agni's sacrifices, easily put out the fires, and thus prevented the success of the rites. Agni went to Brahma, the creator, to complain and to try to save his job. Brahma chastised Agni for his gluttony and greed. Agni showed heart felt repentence and so Brahma gave him a chance to slim down and regain his strength. The hero's of the Mahabharata (The Pandava's) had been unjustly awarded a wild, unkempt tract of land in place of the inheritance of their rightful kingdom. Rather than protest or fight the injustice, Krsna and Arjuna, on behalf of the Pandava's, decided to clear the land and build The Pandava kingdom there. First they required the entire overgrown tract of forested land (called the Khandava Forest) to be cleared. They enlisted the services of Agni with the special instruction that he was not to be offered any Ghee to assist him in burning the forest down. Agni went to work, burned everything to the ground, regained his strength, and was able to oversee the sacrificial rites of humanity again.

Trusting Earth

According to the Vedas the ancient goddess Prithivi is the personification of the earth. That means that the earth is not just the earth; she's a Goddess. She is described as 'great, wise, and energetic, She 'lavishes gifts upon her worshippers', she is 'that which holds everything'. She's 'beneficent and kind to all'. Also she's 'the inexhaustible source of abundance'.

You'll know the truth of each one of these descriptions if you tune to the earth during practice. You'll feel how kind and unstinting she is in her support of you. You'll feel her gift of tremendous power and energy through your feet and legs and how the dynamic expression of each posture is rooted in her abundance. You'll feel how she allows you to tether your self to her so you can soar skyward and thus set your spine free to spin and elongate and coil. You'll find your self plugged into the earth standing in triangle posture praising her gifts of spaciousness in your body and loving the spontaneous affinity between her and your consciousness. Also you'll find that a magnetic bond develops between you and the earth especially when you practice the primary series With each forward bend and vinyasa you get low to the ground, you prostrate, you pray with your body again and again to Prithivi, the nourishing, caring source of abundance.

Gravity is the downward force that pulls anything that has weight towards the center of the earth. One way to deepen your connection to the earth is to become conscious of its gravitational pull on your body. You can actually sense your weight being drawn irresistibly downwards. Go with it, enjoy it and let your self be drawn closer to the earth. And feel how she reaches for you, how she actively supports you. This way of tuning in involves letting go, becoming receptive, and feeling an almost lazy heaviness within the body. You relax and suspend effort. When you allow this combination of qualities to inform your posture, you're movements become more circular and cohesive . You are present in a deep rooted, whole, yielding way.

During practice, allow the parts of the body in contact with earth to widen, sink, and increase their connection to the ground. And see how in return, the ground increases her connection to you by supporting you more. By this awareness you create a powerful magnetic affinity between you and the earth. Your posture becomes immovable, super grounded, and energetically alive much more than when when you try with your will or when you try to apply intense physical effort to achieve a posture. Paradoxically, the softer, more spacious, and receptive effortless qualities that accompany trusting the earth give you the strength and power that you won't be able to find by willing or excessive effort. It can be thought of as a more feminine or yin way of being in a posture. You're receptive. You give way, let go and become expansive. You just are. And yet your posture will also express powerful strength and energetic vitality.

Two more of Prithivi's gifts to her devotees are feelings of spaciousness and timelessness within. Take time to contemplate these qualities and how the connecting with the earth gives them to you when you invite her into your practice. Connecting with earth in a posture brings a dynamic sense of spaciousness inside the torso that allows the tidal ebb and flow rhythm of the breath to reach its full expression. During practice the lungs and ribcage need to be able to expand and contract to their full capacity with ease. Also the spaciousness that results from tethering your self to the earth through the legs frees the spine to elongate, coil, spin, and stretch; Prithivi gives you the ability to enjoy the spine's full range of motion.

Overall, the strength of your posture comes from the earth and enables you to loosen up, become spacious and find satisfying, large, circular patterned movements that integrate the entire body into your posture. The body is cleansed and healed by these wholesome, earthy, deep patterned movements and life force pervades your inner world. Perhaps you arrive in a place where you really belong in your body and your inner world, from the boundary of skin to the core of the bones, becomes your sanctuary.

Timelessness implies that time ceases, that the passing flow of moments seems to slow down. Or maybe your concern diminishes for what time it is or what happened or is going to happen. You become timeless because you go to a deeper level of consciousness where you cease to give importance to the mesmerizing temporal sequence that ordinarily seems so concrete, so rational and so real and thus dominates. One of the most beautiful images associated with the awakening of Kundalini (the coiled one), is that when she enters Shushumna Nadi (the most glorious channel) and travels up the core of the body from base to crown, she swallows time. Perhaps swallowing time indicates that the moment NOW suddenly moves into the foreground. The past and future fade into the background. NOW opens up an entirely new world. Now is complete, precious and needs nothing added to it or subtracted from it and thus stretches out and lasts. When you strike a pose that is truly rooted in the earth, time ceases just like when Kundalini travels up the core of the body. Indeed connecting with earth awakens Kundalini, helps you to slow down, to be weighty, to tune into center, and become a vast, spacious, container that holds large stores of life force.

When you awaken your life force by bringing the earth clearly into your body in your practice, meditation results; your inner world becomes animated, vivid, and clear. You begin to understand and listen to your heart wisdom. You tune into your own unique style of unadorned bliss. You are happy to linger there.

But also turning your body into a vessel for life force, requires working with and accepting whatever comes. Thus it is equally necessary to learn to sit with and accept your pain. The reality is we are constantly causing pain to ourselves and others through our ignorance and inability to be fully awake and responsive to the present. Our mind attacks us with all manner of guilt, blame, and criticism; we're either too lazy and 'good-for-nothing' or we're exhausting ourselves striving for that never-to-be- reached perfection so we can finally be somebody or have some worth. The pain comes on all levels: physical, mental, and even the deep level of soul longing. Getting in touch with earth gives you the rock steady firmness and patience to feel, endure, and accept your pain and thereby transform it.

You tap the earth's support and use your power to contain and accept all the various aches, physical injuries, ailments, diseases, the toll of aging, and eventually even the terror and perceived pain of death. And through the earth, you create the space to contain and accept your bouts of mental anguish ranging from mild inner nagging and low level worry to highly agitated vicious, attacking mind that surges with aggression. You even have to accept familiarity of clinging to your habit patterns that are based in fear and result in unsatisfying, harmful repetition.

Daily you have to come back and face your same tight places, same blockages, same weaknesses. It is essential to remain receptive and firm rooted continuing to nurture your self in the midst of it. Yoga and Prithivi teach you to cultivate the patience to keep on giving and giving to your self, to keep forgiving your pain and ignorance. So as you step on the mat each day anew, you bring in the earth and keep on cultivating patience, rock steadiness and nourishing, caring support for your self. These gifts from the earth are the bedrock foundation of Yoga practice. Remember that to be in touch with the earth IS to be nourished, like a child who finds comfort in the close vicinity of her mother, feel how your body gravitates towards the comfort of Bhu Devi the Earth, the 'great, wise, and energetic' Goddess.

I have provided an exercise for you. You can either listen and practice to it on side bar player of the blog or you can read it and practice it on your own. The intent of the exercise is to help you tune into the qualities of support and generosity that the earth gives. Stand in Samasthiti or sit in lotus (or an equivalent seated posture). Let your posture be a prayer to Prithivi the great earth mother who feeds and bestows benevolence on her children. See her as a beautiful woman with rich green skin and four arms.

Imagine, not that you are on the earth but rather, you are part of the earth like an out cropping, an island that has thrust up from the ocean bottom. You ARE earth from your feet, legs and hips all the way up the spine and through out the entire body. Allow the parts of the body in contact with earth to widen and sink and increase their connection to the ground. In return, feel the ground increase her connection to you by supporting you more. Allow your weight to rest on your bones. And feel that the bones are buoyant and eager to receive your weight. Intentionally lower your center of gravity by letting your body be irresistibly drawn down wards towards the earth's center.

As you plug in, merge with earth more and more. Cultivate the feeling that you are earth, that you are the nourisher and supporter of all the life within you. Naturally you create space and care for everything within you, all your emotions, thoughts, moods, actions, reactions, pain, and dreams. You continuously bestow nurturing care and benevolence upon your self. Glimpse the power of the earth, of being infinitely generous and supportive of all life and enjoy your connection to that source.

Befriending Hanuman

In order to provide some background to this weeks post, here's a super short synopsis of the great spiritual epic The Ramayana. God (Visnu) incarnates as a man (Ram) in order to destroy the demon Ravana. The story goes that Ravana, through performing rigorous austerities, became the undisputed king of the 3 worlds. Practically invincible, he became wildly corrupt and wreaked havoc on the balance of the universe. Earlier he had won a boon that ensured that almost nothing in existence could kill him. However, in his excessive pride, he neglected to include a human being or a monkey in the list of what could not kill him. So Visnu incarnated as Ram, in order to put an end to Ravana's tyranny. And Visnu's wife, Laksmi, incarnated as Sita. Thus Visnu and Laksmi were married on earth as Ram and Sita. After many twists in the story Ram and Sita were exiled to the forest for 13 years. Ravana heard of Sita, her renowned beauty, decided he must have her, abducted her through trickery, and carried her to his kingdom on the island of Lanka. Ram met Hanuman, the monkey God, during his search for Sita. Hanuman became Ram's devoted servant and ally; he led a search party for Sita and found her held captive within the Ravana's fortress on Lanka. Ram assembled an army made up of men, monkeys, bears and others who went to Lanka and defeated Ravana and his forces. And thus the Universe was restored to balance.

The Ramayana can be viewed from many perspectives; from one perspective, called the esoteric Ramayana, it is said that all of the characters and events take place within the body, within a person's psyche. Ram is the Self and Sita is buddhi; the great intuitive intelligence. Ravana is the ego with its attachment to all the organs of sense (thus he has 10 heads). Symbolically the ego steals away buddhi the intuitive inner wisdom causing a separation between intelligence and Spirit. This split brings darkness and pain and a feeling of lost emptiness void of Self. Yoga practice leads to rejoining intuitive intelligence (Sita) with the Spirit(Ram). Hanuman, leader of the search, is the main instrument in bringing Ram and Sita together again; he symbolizes breath, an unswerving devoted ally and servant who helps rejoin Intelligence with Spirit.

This weeks theme is on Hanuman and his connection to the breath in practice. Hanuman's connection to the breath can be traced to his father, Vayu, the wind god. Vayu is known as the 'life breath of the Gods'; as a wanderer, an explorer and a messenger of the gods. The word vayu means 'to blow' . When Prana (life force) enters the body it is known as Vayu and gets divided into 5 regions (Prana, Apana, Samana, Vyana, and Udana). The vayu's are directly in play when you work with the cycle of the breath using ujjayii and bandha's during practice. Metaphorically speaking Vayu is breath within the body and Hanuman is the child of breath. Thus Hanuman represents the fruits of working with breath, your energy, your urge to serve the Self. Hanuman epitomizes devotion to the highest possible degree; he is in many ways more revered in India than Ram due to his loyalty and complete self surrender to Ram. One time Hanuman was hanging out around a campfire with his monkey buddies. They started chiding him about his 'appearance' of total devotion to Ram. Hanuman listened for a few minutes and then simply stood among the monkeys gathered in the circle and ripped open his chest exposing his heart where a miniature Ram and Sita were housed. When Hanuman exposed his true heart, it only revealed his beloved, Ram and Sita. Working with breath as the center of your practice eventually gives you the gift of a fierce, loyal and strong ally devoted to Spirit.

From studying, enjoying and trusting breath, little by little you win strength, clarity, and stamina to cultivate free breathing in asana practice. You intelligently employ Ujjayii Pranayama, uddhiyana and mula bandha's, awareness of the piston like movement of the diaphragm and tuning in to the rhythmic action of the pelvic floor. By observing the cycle of the breath, the expansion (inhaling, Prana) and contraction (exhaling Apana) of the two polar opposite Vayu's, Prana and Apana, you harness the potency of Prana, of Shakti, of powerful life force carried on the breath. You become a shaper, a sculptor, a connoisseur, a scientist, and a lover of breath and move from the surface to the depths of the heart where your real longings are lodged waiting for you to find the courage and receptivity to listen to and respond to them.

This shift of inward movement can be reflected in small ways. Your capacity to immediately experience and feel what is happening within and around you changes profoundly. You care more in present time (instead reflecting days, weeks, months or years later) about what is happening inside of you. You watch to how you respond and get clear where your responses lead you. You understand where your attention is engaged and for how long and on what sorts of objects, emotions and thoughts. You learn to gauge the value of where your energy goes and to direct it more at will to whatever you choose. An acceleration of feeling, thought and awareness takes place and your capacity for intimacy and love increases as well as the ability to tolerate loneliness and being alone. These small steps of inward turning can lead to a deep flowing towards center, to spiritual knowing, to the creative expression that you are meant to bring forth to share. You are literally more alive and more intimate with your self and everyone and everything.

But notice the risk involved in this----when you breathe you really FEEL; when you really FEEL, you feel more expansiveness and joy and connectedness, but you also feel more pain, more grief, more of the hurt and loss that the world continually spins out. Once you dive in, you are in---you engage fully with whatever comes. To free your breath is to risk everything---love and pain. Bliss and grief. However risking is the only real option along with learning to face the independent, solitary path you are on. Authentic practice requires risking and opening to where breath leads you. Such openness and gambling gives you an emotional and physical power reflected in your stance towards everyone and everything you encounter. You become loving, unshakeable, rooted, centered, receptive and fierce; you belong here in this body and finally can walk the razor's edge that is required to continually ride the breath.

The demon Ravana represents the ego and the world and all that pulls towards mundane power. There is an irresistible attraction to that power. Ravana himself though an arch demon is known for his charisma and beauty, his learning, his skill in battle, also a fine musician, and even an ardent devotee of Shiva. The benefits of power that go with money, fame, position, even of partner, family, friends cannot not be ignored or underestimated. Your health and evolution partially depend upon your successful attaining and wielding of these powers. However, these are still lesser powers that don't compare with the ultimate power of Spirit.

You are Spirit and are meant to realize and express the unique little piece of individual Spirit that you are. It's built in to the challenge of the game that we are bound to hanker after the lesser powers and spend too much of our time and energy caught up in them either trying to win them or hating and somehow rebelling against them. Maybe we resist turning inward because the path of Spirit appears to be so lonely, independent and solitary. The power of Spirit is found within as opposed to the polarized outside where people and things can appear to dazzle and captivate our senses and longings; or the opposite where we respond to power by rejecting or being apathetic towards it. But either way, our energy is dissipated. Additionally, the negative aspects of ego are tough to root out as evidenced by the fact that each time one of Ravana's heads gets chopped off in battle, another head immediately sprouts anew to replace the old one.

When you undertake Yoga practice to awaken the healing energies that can guide you forward the only direction to go is inward. To be alone with your self. Yet the path seems so impossible to tread without help. And that is the necessity and appeal of Hanuman, the egoless servant who exists to serve the bent of the Spirit within. To access such an ally within ourselves is vital to our progress. Intimacy with breath and reflection can play a significant role in that connection, in realizing you are compelled to find your unique and original heart and Spirit. When you learn to focus with stamina and access your breath, when you feel fully plugged in to your body by the flow of breath, where breath is the center, where you feel breathed by the breath, then you become Hanuman, born to serve Ram; you become the unswerving, loyal servant and ally whose sole mission is to reconnect your intelligence with your Spirit.