Some thoughts from the sidelines

I took a break from the world the last few days. A friend here calls it "caving", back home, I used to call it "going into the bunny hole", because a friend of mine that reminded me of a bunny used to scurry away to hibernate.

The first month in Mysore is all about getting frustrated, feeling uncomfortable, being excited, seeing the sites, spending rupees, eating food, meeting people, getting sick, and learning the head wobble.

The second month in Mysore is all about feeling settled, getting poses, slowing down, relaxing more, becoming a "regular" at local establishments, and settling into a routine.

The third month in Mysore is all about getting tired of saying "goodbye" and "hello" to people coming and going to or from Mysore, getting bored by the same restaurants that you frequent, being sad when that same restaurant is closed because of a holiday, being surprised to end up somewhere new, feeling rooted where you are, officially having a spot for your mat at the shala, not wanting to admit that you know how many days until you go home, not wanting to go home, and feeling reluctant to spend rupees on things hiked up to what you know and have seen is an inflated tourist price.

The buzz in my ears from my senses being overloaded by all that is India has slowly decreased over the last few months. I hadn't noticed this change until recently when I looked back with enough distance to notice that it was buzzing in the first place. But now that the noise has diminished to a quiet rumble, I've crawled out from beneath my pillow to see what the world looks like.

A useful tool when we are learning to meditate is instead of trying to focus on clearing the mind of all thoughts, you focus on one thing. For example, as a Catholic, when you are praying, you can use a rosary to keep your attention steady.

So what do we do when there is no longer something to focus on. How do you play soccer when the purpose is not to score a goal or win a point?

In practice, when you're not trying to show your practice to anyone (including yourself?), what do you focus on? Take into mind that when showing your practice, you are paying careful attention to technique. What then do you focus on? You've been running toward the beach, and then the water touches your toes and you stare across the vast stretch of sky and ocean. Your eyes jump from ship to swimmer, to bird. But when the waves have slowed and in that slow moment, there is nothing to focus on, how long can you stay in that state before the next distraction comes?

Here in Mysore, the social fire has cooled, the culture is now the norm, the weather has dulled, what then? Eat food. Watch TV and badly copied movies. Read books.

Yoga Sutra Satchidananda translation, of course:

Yoga Sutra 1.30:Vyadhi, styana, samsaya, pramada, alasya, avirati, bhrantidarsana, alabdhabhumikatva, anavasthitatvani, chittavikshepah, te antarayah.

Disease, dullness, doubt, carelessness, laziness, sensuality, false perception, failure to reach firm ground, and slipping from the ground gained--these distractions of the mind-stuff are the obstacles.

Yoga Sutra 1.31:Duhkha,daurmanasya, angamejayatva, svasa, prasvasa, vikshepa, sahabhuvah.

Accompaniments to the mental distractions include distress, despair, trembling of the body, and disturbed breathing.

Yoga Sutra 1.32: Tat pratisedha artham eka tattva abhyasah

The practice of concentration on a single subject [or the use of one technique] is the best way to prevent the obstacles and their accompaniments.

Its back to practice at the shala tomorrow from my 3 day holiday, although in many ways, the practice is never on holiday...

Sometimes I read the sutras or hear something of the sort and think, "the next time that happens, that will be how I react." Or, "Next time will be different." I remember this line in a Pema Chodron book about how a student told her how much she meant to call her, or to see her, but didn't feel it was the right time because she was falling to pieces. Pema Chodron just replied, "Who cares! Come as you are...everything will always be in pieces, so come now!" In this way, its like she's saying to stop worrying so much about the details or about stressing out about being the perfect practitioner. A person could go crazy obsessing about doing right by everything is out there. (I really was a vegan, organic, macrobiotic. It sucked.)

After being here is Mysore, I feel more and more that being here and studying at the shala and really giving my all to practice is the best thing for me. I dabbled in this or that activity just like many of the other shala students here in Mysore, but I admit that I can't be bothered to go to chanting, sanskrit, or music lessons. I'm not interested in a road trip, a transcendental meditation, or a massage course. I don't want to learn how to cook a sambar or to sing. I'm here to practice ashtanga at the shala and that's it. Its funny how simplicity can be so overwhelming.

In that same Satchidananda translation of the sutras he says, "Yoga practice is like an obstacle race; many obstructions are purposely put on the way for us to pass through. They are there to make us understand and express our own capacities. We all have that strength but we don't seem to know it...Once you put an obstacle to the flow by constructing a dam, then you can see its strength in the form of tremendous electrical power."