Yoga, Silence & the Art of Listening

Within each of us is a silence as vast as the universe. And when we experience that silence, we remember who we are.  Gunilla Norris.

I am a great lover of silence, the kind of idiot regularly found ‘shh-ing’ even the staff in my local library.  Its increasing marginalisation feels like a huge loss to our society, particularly in city life where less and less of it is available to us and so much of the noise we are exposed to is beyond our control. But what does it have to do with yoga and why is it so essential to life today? Some years back I found myself unable to shift a restlessness that permeated my being.  Naturally, I cited an excess of people and external noise as the major factors in my state of agitation and became increasingly solitary.  But just below the surface there remained a scratchy irritation that seemingly no amount of being alone would dissipate and very soon (by which I mean millennia later) dawned the realisation that the issue was not the rest of the world but in fact my very own ‘internal noise’ - wave after wave of unchecked emotion and incessant thought louder than any decibel known to man.

Undoubtedly our thinking minds and emotions are an integral, sometimes astonishingly beautiful part of this human experience.  Often dismissed respectively as unenlightened or primitive, in my view they are neither.  They hold vast fields of sophisticated information that can enhance our lives and connect us with others, if only we take the time to really check in and listen to them rather than being swept along by their tide.  Back in 2012, the dawn of the much-lauded Aquarian Age, I remember the excitement around a  new age of expanding emotion, with the added potential for people to express those feelings more fully:  Joy!  What could possibly go wrong? Cut to 2018 and it transpires that being in touch with your emotions in no way equates to knowing how to navigate or communicate them in a conscious, compassionate manner.  That man in the White House dividing nations Tweet by Tweet?  Definitely a man with no problem expressing his every thought and emotion. Does he to know how to manage either accordingly? It would appear not.  The trick, it would seem, is to know when to ‘bring the noise’ and when and how to turn it down, so life might feel less like we’re bouncing from the walls of every energetic high and catastrophic low and more like we’re consciously choosing how we construct meaning from what is happening both inside and outside of us. 

So upon noticing my unruly inner landscape, I decided to go about fixing it. I sat myself in lotus, emptied my mind and silently meditated my way to euphoric states of unreserved bliss….said no one, ever.  In real life, I attempted all of the above, got no further than noticing my thoughts and added to them ‘Ok. So I am MAD...’ and this is where the yoga came in.  Honestly, I started yoga, specifically asana, because it seemed like the next best thing for someone who found even sitting still inordinately difficult and frankly mind-numbingly dull.  I detested my first class but thankfully had enough insight to stick with it, not least because despite finding it challenging and repetitive, the yoga annoyed me less than I was annoying myself – just. Eventually, however, it was in that very repetition, of class after class and asana after asana, there came the odd glimpse of these physical sequences as palpable access points to mental and emotional calm.  Through synchronised breathing and movement with fellow students came brief respite from that sea of thinking and in its wake sprang interludes of deep stillness and mental and physical space.   And, of course, the more you listen in that silence, the more of value there is to hear.

Our practice holds great potential as a bridge between the automatic every day and a more conscious, contemplative and peaceful state of being, way beyond that of attempted naval gazing or complete withdrawal from the outside world.  It invites constant enquiry and requires that the practitioner pay alert but gentle attention in order establish what is true for them on a moment to moment basis; to listen and accept, or to react and modify accordingly, with kindness and forgiveness.  On and off the mat these are invaluable skills, particularly in a world where so much of our identity is influenced by other people’s thoughts of us or cultural and societal expectation.  In these increasingly noisy times, silence and listening are real-life super powers.  To pause and actually hear what someone is saying without just waiting impatiently to say your piece – to take a breath before you respond, no matter how emotionally charged you are, now that’s a worthwhile skill.  To really listen when your own body speaks to you, particularly if the message is something you’d rather not hear or contrary to a story you’ve been telling yourself for years. And to stop when it’s quite literally crying out for you to do so, even when that feels like a crushing defeat.  It turns out that another field of information available to us is the physical body itself and the key to this knowledge is the practice of yoga.  The body knows, and often it knows better than the mind because it can bypass the burden of expectation more readily. But like all living things, it needs constant care and attention.  It has its own unique message delivery system that will call to you when it needs you to check back in. Ignore it time and time again and its pain may well become your greatest teacher.   

There are so few places we can go for quiet listening and a shared experience that doesn’t require us to offer or be offered an opinion. These places are essential to bonding us as humans. They transcend the chasm of our perceived differences.   There are even fewer spaces where so much can be communicated so silently.  One unimaginably vast field exists within each of us. Its song can heard in class through the sound of our unified breath, this beautiful, completely impartial vehicle of information we all share.  It’s on the mat that we witness and ‘remember who we are’.  If the word vinyasa means to ‘place in a special way’ then the essence of our practice might be that we cultivate the ability to place not just our bodies but also our thoughts and attention in a special way.  Not so we can go about fixing those despised recesses of ourselves, but to allow them the space to co-exist beside the parts of us we like a little more, and in doing so to grant others the space to truly be themselves.   To navigate this human experience with bravery, integrity and deep compassion for the vulnerability of ourselves and those around us. And finally, to remember, often, that our default tides of unconscious thought and unchecked ‘noise’ profoundly affect our days. Days that turn into years, that subsequently flow into this all too fleeting, sometimes graceful, often wobbly sequence we call life.

Bibliography: Inviting Silence, Gunilla Norris. Yoga: The Spirit & Practice of Moving Into Stillness, Eric Schiffman. This is Water, David Foster Wallace

YIN YOGA, STLLNESS & THE ART OF ALLOWING

The Bird of Paradise Alights Only on the Hand That Does Not Grasp - Jon Berry

We live in increasingly complex times. A switched on, ever-ready planet of late-workers, party-harders, striving, achieving and consuming in a ‘more is more’ culture that leaves little time for respite or reflection.  As as species that prizes physical and mental aptitude, this acceleration in pace and drive is often regarded in black and white terms as ‘progress’ with seemingly little cost to the individual, society or our planet.  And, after all, isn’t it the want of every older generation to lament the passing of simpler, slower days of yore?  But scratch just below the surface and we start to see steep declines in mental and physical wellbeing - so what, then ,is the real and quantifiable value of wanting and needing ever more? Consider, for a minute, if you can spare it, how you really feel on a personal level when your space, health, time and freedoms become marginalised.  Tired, impatient, angry, stressed, depressed? Now times that by seven billion and you start to see a different picture.  So every in culture, it would seem, there is a definite need of its counter.

If I came to yoga with what might be politely referred to as ‘some reluctance’, it would be fair to say I was dragged to Yin pretty much kicking and screaming. Hold the same pose for five minutes? Four words: ‘easy, pointless’ and ‘totally dull’…and yet still I came. These days even my tiny, rigid mind would caution heavily against thinking of Yin as easy or pointless or indeed anything like dull.  It may by its nature be a more static practice but, with the wrong approach, (the exact one I chose, incidentally) five minutes in a pose someone else has chosen for you can feel like a pretty bloody long time. It takes physical and mental discipline of a different sort, most notably the willingness to listen and to yield…not this particular little being’s strong point.

This practice of slowing down, allowing, rather than grasping and reaching creates much needed antidote for these headstrong, competitive times. It is a practice of discernment; of constant checking in, exploring and reassessing your edge. We all have boundaries- places we’ll go to and those we retreat from. What better way to explore our attitude towards them and experience a clearer view of ourselves in our own lives and the wider implications of our actions?  In a world of increasingly narrow deals of beauty and likeability how do we draw lines across ourselves and others? Where are our parameters set? Are they compassionate, permeable and softly drawn, or are they harsh, uncompromising and unyielding?

If acceptance and allowing are the fundamental building blocks of a tolerant and truly free society then now, more than ever, we need to create space, conversation and change that simply won’t happen whilst we’re all crashing along at break-neck speed.  Stillness and deep listening are required. So be still, listen because Yin is also a beautiful way to explore your relationship with silence - it may be more complicated than you think. There is very little verbal cueing once you're in the pose. This gives rise to a quietude to which we’ve become unaccustomed and can sometimes find deeply unsettling. In the surrounding silence the mind and body can, paradoxically, become unbearably loud.  Can we observe but not pathologize every thought, feeling and sensation? It’s easy to become angry or dismissive or bored - all distinct possibilities when checking in with your surprisingly predictable self.  Guess what? It’s OK to be bored. You don’t need something or someone to occupy, entertain or placate every moment of your existence. Great creative endeavour has sprung from boredom and frustration.  This is a practice of working with what is and realising that there is value and learning in everything.  What am I feeling and where am I at? When do I need to reconsider, react and re-adjust and when do I need to allow and even accept the discomfort of being? Questions beget answers but only if we pay attention.

It seems these days that a grounding practice is an essential requirement of existence on this planet, because from a distance we look like a species in crisis.  I don’t have definitive answers as to what paradise is but I strongly suspect it has less to do with more and more to do with less; less noise, less loud retaliation, less competitiveness and consumption. We need opportunities to ‘walk ourselves back’ from the edge. Only when we learn to get quiet, and sit with what is,  can we really move from a carefully considered and balanced perspective.

R E G E N E S I S

I’m fascinated and bewildered by how increasingly early in life we seem to submit to the notion of being ‘old’ when so much of our body is in a constant state of regenesis. On a physical level alone (because, let’s face it, most of what is equated with premature ageing these days is obsession with our exterior, physical body) we have blood cells that renew every few hours, tastebud cells every few days and skin cells every month. Even our muscles regenerate entirely, albeit over a significantly longer period. I learnt today that if you are lucky enough to reach your eighties your heart will have completely renewed itself four times. What?! My excellent Dad has regrown his brilliant heart FOUR TIMES and he didn’t even need a ‘luxury, anti-ageing’ elixir to do so.

It’s fair to say that your body does a lot for you, and without asking very much in return. We have the power to offset so much of our physical, mental and emotional decline in simple, seemingly boring and unsexy ways: A consistently healthy, antioxidant rich diet, regular moderate exercise, eight hours sleep a night and adequate stress management will not only make you feel better but can go as far as to actually change the expression of your genes. The ever-emerging, ever fascinating field of epigenetics is teaching us that we are not, as it transpires, at the mercy of our inherited genetic predispositions. How you live your life, treat your body and even the way you interact with people around you can significantly alter which of your genes will express themselves and which of them won’t.

Our innate ability to effectively switch off some genes and switch on others in relatively inexpensive ways must be welcome news when it comes to combating degenerative disease. Scientists now believe we have the capacity to change the expression of over 90% of the genes relating to our health, as well as an ability to continuously grow new brain cells and increase the neural connections between those cells. Just think about that for a moment. You can choose to subscribe to a largely sexist, ageist, consumerist culture that wants to sell you your fragility and premature decline because you don’t have the face of your twenties in your fifties - or you can marvel at yourself as an ever-evolving being in a state of perpetual renewal, truly alive with the formation of trillions of new cells, ironically, right up until the day you die. Well, fun as decrepitude sounds, I choose the latter, thanks. Even as your cellular turnover eventually slows with time, conceivably, parts of you might still be silently transforming, evolving and manifesting a healthier, wiser, kinder, perhaps, more content you. It’s not very glamorous, or rock and roll, and it won’t give you the tender face of your teens but let’s get real on priorities here: If we are fortunate enough to have access to clean water, healthy food and life practices like yoga in the first place, the odds of us winning the Age Well lottery are stacked heavily in our favour. So whilst remembering that, yes, ageing and death are an inevitable part and privilege of a hopefully long well-lived life, we can also remember the choice of how we age looks increasingly like it is ours and ours alone.

Credits: Epigenetics statistics Dr Perlmutter Alzheimer’s research.

FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT

Occasionally I reflect on what my yoga practice and teaching mean to me. It’s obvious that for me this feels like a practice of light, a recalibration back into our light - especially when things get dark and heavy. It’s the reason I found the mat in the first place and it tends to resonate a lot.

I once read somewhere that you don’t come to a contemplative practice unless you have something to contemplate.  Interesting. Well, I guess then a lot of us have much to think about and that this throws up some difficult questions and, you know, the occasional existential crisis here and there. It goes without saying that this light can’t exist without its counterpart, darkness. Strive as we may as towards brightness and beauty, we’re complex, imperfect beings and we’ll never reside solely in them. Instead we’ll traverse the line between light and dark, most likely bringing both, in equal measure, to ourselves, others and to the circumstances we perceive to unite or divide us. And that’s ok, we deal in opposites all the time and these are polarising times.

However, if we’re going to find ourselves impacted by both we may as well choose consciously to learn as much as we can from each aspect. We can choose to find value in darkness. Rather than reducing our practice to a false concept of ‘wellness’ based in a culture of avoidance we can recognise that, paradoxically, darkness can itself be blindingly illuminating and that the void is never really empty. So know your darkness, own it. Take what you need from it just don’t hang out there too long – we are after all beings of light.  And on the days where just reading the news would have you slide willingly under the oily waters of inertia, remember; there is always beauty, there is always light. Turn to receive it and reflect it outwards to others: You bring light in.

GROW WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED

We usually hope to find ourselves in fertile environments, in which we can grow, thrive and that we pervieve to be conducive to our success. That means different things for different people but for me that would look like harmonious, stress and conflict free environments, with ample free time, devoid of constricting deadlines and schedules. It also happens to be the the polar opposite of where I have recently landed, despite my very best efforts to manufacture life to the contrary.
About here is where I usually like exercise my power of choice, turnabout and swiftly exit Stage Left from any drama, but this week I managed to stay put long enough to acknowledge that we are always going to find ourselves caught up in life simply happening, dramas and all. It's how we engage with intensity, adversity and stife that actually matters. We really thrive when we are flexible enough to ride change and to hold our own, with compassion for others, in less than ideal, even harsh and arid, conditions. It's easy to be poised on even ground.
.
Time and time again we see that resistance to change is the greatest source of distress, not the change itself, and that the drama is actually all our own making. If we can practice letting go of the little things (the end of a job, a house move, whatever) and flowing with the gentler tides of change, then we can prime ourselves from being knocked down and swept away by the really big waves that catch us all, such as the loss of a loved one. I went to a beautiful (timely) class this week themed around the lotus flower emerging pristine from the muddy waters. I love that image, although in reality I'm probably more like a weed - equally capable of growth through murky territory but emerging in a slightly more dishevelled and unruly manner. I guess it's not always how you find your way back towards the light that matters, just that you do.
.
☆ToWaRds ThE LiGhT☆

HEART OF THE SOUL

This month’s classes have been all about the heart. A lot of attention is given to the heart in yoga, and with good cause. As the centre of our being its presence is felt and heard throughout our everyday existence.  Our hearts ‘burst with’ or are ‘filled with’ joy, we are ‘heart-broken’, interchangeably heavy or light hearted and on and so on.  Most spiritual practices regard the heart as the very seat of the soul but what does it mean to try and live in a heart-centred way? To listen to and follow your heart takes courage and an unshakeable trust that you are supported by something much bigger than yourself.  Your mind will find a million excuses as to why it’s not the smart thing to do but that will not stop your heart from calling. Our hearts are inextricably linked with our purpose.  The fullness and lightness of heart I feel after teaching is a surefire indicator that, though I have much to learn, I’m on my way. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. It can be uncomfortable and even scary but expansion is seldom found within the confines of our comfort zone.  And here’s the real kicker -to live from your heart means that at times you will hurt. You will feel the pain and grief of loss, disappointment and failure, and all that goes with being tuned into the centre of your soul. What’s more, instead of allowing this pain to set or harden your heart leaving you embittered or resentful you will be required to find some kind of lesson in it. Again, your mind will rail and struggle against it and throw everything you have in your toolbox to ‘fix’ it but in the humbling words of Paulo Coelho:

“When you are defeated, you cannot pretend you are spiritually superior.  Sit down and cry. And suffer. You are allowed to suffer.  You are allowed to be defeated’’ 

To deny your pain, is to deny your humanity but to get lost in it is to give up the joy of life. So you will pick yourself up and learn to live alongside your experiences and know that love and joy and happiness will come again and the cycle will start over. Take a deep breath and bow to the wisdom of the heart.

Credits: Paulo Coehlo & The Power of the Heart by Drew Heriot

R E A L Y O G A

This morning I had a conversation with a man by the name of Angus that I have slowly come to know over the last few years. Angus is homeless and a rough sleeper in London’s Green Park. Day in, day out he sits on the street in Mayfair, always in the same trusted, often damp spot. I’d asked him how he was doing. It was a freezing cold morning and grey clouds and mist had settled over London. He replied ‘ Oh you know, it’s a bit depressing at this time of year, but I guess it’s like this for all of us’. And I found myself quietly thinking - but it isn’t, is it? It isn’t anything like that for the lucky majority who can’t even begin to fathom the monotony of sitting on the street, day after day, week after week, month after month in the freezing cold. Thankfully we have no notion of what it is like to sleep out in Berkeley Square or Green Park because somehow we deem it safer as an option than a shelter. Lucky us. In that moment I felt profoundly aware not only of my ridiculous comparatively tiny dramas but also of the capacity each of us holds as a teacher of others. Angus, for instance, stripped of even the basic human right of a roof over his head encompasses enough grace and compassion to consider the perspective of those, arguably, far better off than him. That right there is a lesson in real yoga and it has nothing to do with lycra-clad Instagram poses. A human with crystal clear perception whose perspective is his yoga and keeps him positive through circumstances most of us would buckle under. And my yoga, with regards to Angus, is the yoga of letting things be, despite my opinion to the contrary. I have asked him time and time again if there is anything I can do to improve his situation, can I get an outreach team to him and get him into the system and eventually housed. The answer is always a flat no. He remains inflexible on this point and somewhat unhappily I have to respect that decision. This is the yoga of not meddling when you’ve been expressly told not to or the arrogance of thinking you know what is best for someone.

Sutra 1.3: Tada drashtuh svarupe avasthanam

In a state of yoga the ability to understand the object fully and correctly is apparent.  The tendency not to be open to a fresh comprehension and the inability to comprehend are overcome. – T.V.K Desikachar
 

Drashtuh refers to The Seer beyond the Mind, the ever-present, silent centre of consciousness. The eternal aspect of ourselves, this witness is the eye in the storm of our lives. It weathers the churn of societal, cultural and experiential influences that so heavily impact the way we interpret external and internal stimuli but, unflinchingly, remains unchanged.

This sutra reminds us of the importance of crystal clear perception through the unchanging self. It reminds us that we are not the sum of our thoughts, emotions and past experiences.  That though shrouded in the veils of illusion, once the obstacles of the mind are removed, our true essence can shine through.

It requires that we  stay open to fresh understanding and unfettered by fixed ideas and judgements - judgements that harden us, making us less permeable to experiencing life in its fullest form, and allowing others the grace to do the same.  Unobserved these judgments amount to a state of close-mindedness so absolute we become blind to its very existence. They are the antithesis of expansive living, divide us from our true selves and and cause life to atrophy.

The Seer is then our ever present sentinel. Always there, always watching. Unbound by illusion. A liberated consciousness that was never born and will never die.  Through yoga we choose to remember and connect with this Seer.  Through inviting presence we come back to true ourselves.  Perhaps our old patterns and attachments start to fall way and instead of the drudgery of day-to-day life we witness the miracle of ever changing possibility.  We overcome the tendency to get stuck in our ways and to keep others equally boxed in . We free ourselves from mind forged shackles, extrapolate ourselves from misunderstanding, whilst at the same time inviting inquiry and an acceptance that often we simply do not know. Not knowing, this wonderful thing that we have made so shameful in society.  But how lovely not to have or need to have all the answers.  We accept ourselves and others as ever changing, ever evolving beings and perhaps in doing so avoid future suffering. We awaken to awareness itself.