Why Link Writing with Yoga?

In this guest blog post by Hannah Goodman, she discusses the link between yoga and writing. Read Hannah's blog regularly here.  Meet Hannah and join her for her Yoga and Writing class series at Bristol Yoga Studio in October and November.  

Why Link Writing with Yoga?

Writing, like yoga, is a practice.  It requires commitment and discipline. But most importantly, writing involves a willingness to sometimes be uncomfortable, in the prayer and hope that we can break free of what holds us back. When I’m stuck in my writing, I’ll often pause, breathe and stretch, twisting and turning my self until I feel a gentle, soft release. Conversely, if I’m feeling challenged in my yoga practice, I’ll write about the “stuckness” to help push out the gunk that has clogged my mind and body.

In my work as a writing coach and tutor, I use mindfulness techniques I’ve learned in yoga. In my workshops and one-on-one sessions, I share yoga poses and breathing techniques to help writers “let go” so they can discover their authentic voice.

As writers, we have our practice of writing much like a student of yoga has his or her asana practice.  We try to practice daily by journaling, where we can create stories or vent our feelings. Our practice is our own, dictated by what we need in the moment, not by outside forces, but from within. Sometimes it is hard to figure out what we need, but I try to help students with this by helping them access the higher mind and focus on the inner-self. Writing can be the same kind of release as yoga, which allows us to let go of the ego. In doing this, we are better able to express and create, despite, or even alongside, any fear we may feel.

The physical stress on the body from writing—sitting for long periods of time, forward hunched shoulders, sore hands and wrists—can also be countered by a regular yoga practice. Lately, my practice has consisted of a few stretches to open my upper back an chest, and release tension in my lower arms and wrists. A few minutes of stretching and a brief mindfulness meditation, and I’m ready to get to the hard work of writing.


About Hannah

Hannah Goodman, M.Ed, MFA, is a YA author represented by Erzsi Deàk of Hen&ink Literary Studio. Her YA novel, My Sister’s Wedding, won the first place award for The Writer’s Digest International Self-Publishing Contest, 2004, children’s book division. She published the follow-up, My Summer Vacation, in May 2006, which went on to win a bronze IPPY in 2007. The third Maddie book, Fear of Falling was released in the fall of 2009 and was praised by teachers and readers for tackling subjects like homophobia and coming out. She’s published young adult short stories on Amazon’s Shorts, in an anthology entitled Bound Is The Bewitching Lilith, and in the journal Balancing The Tides. She also has written columns for The Jewish Voice & Herald. Her newest endeavor is Sucker Literary Magazine, featuring undiscovered and new YA authors.

A former high school English teacher, she now owns her own small company, The Write Touch, offering a variety of services for clients of all ages–from tutoring across the content areas in writing and reading for elementary through college students to resume writing and career counseling for adults. She assists in the college application process, from SAT prep to writing the college application essay. Additionally, she is a writing coach and consultant to authors and would-be authors. Hannah is a member of the  Editorial Freelancers Association andSCBWI as well as a graduate of Pine Manor College's Solstice Program in Creative Writing. She resides in Bristol, RI with her husband, two daughters, and three cats: Lester, Maisey, and Judy.

Tapas - Fiery Discipline

This month at BYS, we're talking about the Niyama "Tapas" which some might translate to mean "Self discipline". 

I love this post about Tapas on YogaJournal.com: 

"Tapas is one of the most powerful concepts in the Yoga Sutra. The word "tapas" comes from the Sanskrit verb "tap" which means "to burn." The traditional interpretation of tapas is "fiery discipline," the fiercely focused, constant, intense commitment necessary to burn off the impediments that keep us from being in the true state of yoga (union with the universe).

Unfortunately, many people mistakenly equate discipline in yoga practice with difficulty. They see another student striving to perfect the most difficult poses and assume she must be more disciplined and therefore more spiritually advanced. 

But difficulty does not in itself make a practice transformational. It's true that good things are sometimes difficult, but not all difficult things are automatically good. In fact, difficulty can create its own impediments. The ego is drawn to battle with difficulty: Mastering a challenging yoga pose, for example, can bring pride and an egoistic attachment to being an "advanced" yoga student.

A better way to understand tapas is to think of it as consistency in striving toward your goals: getting on the yoga mat every day, sitting on the meditation cushion every day—or forgiving your mate or your child for the 10,000th time. If you think of tapas in this vein, it becomes a more subtle but more constant practice, a practice concerned with the quality of life and relationships rather than focused on whether you can grit your teeth through another few seconds in a difficult asana." 

Many of us at BYS are reading Deborah Adele's book on the Yamas and Niyamas.  See the video below for Deborah's take on this niyama. 

Purity in Silence

Tonight's niyama conversation was about saucha - purity. 

Lots of ideas, observations and questions on purity and being pure with something (rather than making something pure) tossed around, but the end result was a collective group homework assignment.

We talked about how easy it is to jump right in and say something when we are in conversation with each other, rather than allowing ourselves to be comfortable with silence.  We talked about meeting people where they are (for realsies!) without giving consideration to any past knowledge we have of one another - showing up to be present for what is true right now for the people we love and interact with.

We talked about how hard that is... to be pure with what is.  What skill of attention and focus and how all of the other yamas will impact our ability to do this.

We got to talking about silent retreats and how a simple step toward purity in observation can be to remove words altogether.

So, as a group, we developed a homework assignment to sit in silence for four hours.  

Rules are:

1.  No words allowed.  No writing, no reading, (None - not on the milk carton, not on the spines to the books on your bookshelf.  Not in lyrics to songs.  No being talked to, no texting, no computer.  No place that words might come up.) Put a sheet over your bookshelf, don't open the fridge. 

2.  Do whatever you want (painting, gardening, walking, sleeping, etc.) but recognize if you're doing that thing to avoid sitting with yourself.  Only allow the need for 'doing' to be whatever it is, and try to limit the time you're 'doing'. 

3.  Journal or take notes about your experience when you're done. 

We agreed we'd all take four hours to do this, and then see what comes up.  We're planning to share our experiences with one another when we meet again to talk about santosha (contentment) in August.

If you're interested in joining the silence, let us know by adding a comment.  I'd love to have more of our community sharing in this exercise of exploration.

In service,
Tracy

Saucha

Saucha

Saucha is a Sanskrit term which translates to purity and cleanliness.

"Always aim at complete harmony of thought and word and deed. Always aim at purifying your thoughts and everything will be well." - Mohandas Gandhi

Bring cleanliness and order into your environment. The more you treat your surroundings as a temple, the more you welcome the Divine. At the yoga studio, we encourage you to clean your mats and props (rental or otherwise) and then put them away in an orderly fashion. This gives us all a sense of environment. The studio is yours, after all! 

Bring cleanliness and order into your body. The old adage 'you are what you eat' is true! Our physical body is built from the fuel we give it. Mindful eating might bring you to a greater sense of cleanliness and order internally. We encourage you to come to the yoga studio with a clean body, free from heavy perfumes to help us keep the air in the studio clear.

In your asana practice, you can practice saucha by focusing on your breath. The breath is the key to the cleasing benefits of yoga. Deep spinal twists help as well.

Bring cleanliness to your thoughts and deeds. Choose positive thoughts, as our brains can only hold one thought at a time. consider for yourself your intentions in your actions. Are you going through your day with a clear and pure intention? Is there some ulterior motive behind your behaviour? Setting an intention before your asana practice also is a way to practice saucha.

Visit the BYS Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/BristolYogaStudioRI and read about how other members of our community
incorporate saucha into their lives. 

This month’s discussion is Tuesday, July 17, 7:30pm.

Join us to talk about the study of saucha and extending yoga from your mat and into your life.

Aparigraha

The fifth yama “Aparigraha” translates to non-hoarding, non-possessiveness or non-attachment.   While these ideas seem to pointing in different directions, the ultimate lesson of aparigraha lies in our true nature.  When we say ‘Namaste’ to one another, we acknowledge: “The Light in me greets the Light in you,” suggesting that we are connected on an energetic level; one in the same in our true nature.

The practice of aparigraha recognizes that in our human nature we have a tendency to forget this energetic connectedness that is our true self.  It asks us to proactively acknowledge our true nature by practicing non-hoarding, non-possessiveness or non-attachment. 

Non-hoarding means taking and holding only what you really need.  Eating until you’re full and no more.  Sleeping until you’re rested, and no more.  Buying the clothing and the ‘stuff’ you need, but not more than you need.  “Moderation in all things.” as counseled by Terence the ancient Roman Poet.  This practice takes a bit of faith.  We hoard things (food, money) out of fear that it won’t be there when we need it.  Practicing non-hoarding asks us to be faithful that the universe provides what we need. 

(This week, my husband and I started small.  Instead of buying six cans of soup at the grocery store this week, we only bought the two we knew we’d eat.  So far, so good!) 

Non-possessiveness also acknowledges the transient nature of our human existence.  We can never really own a thing, since we can’t take it with us past this life.  Regardless of your belief about what happens after this life, the reality is, all the stuff you’ve acquired eventually ends up in someone else’s hands. 

We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.” ~Native American Proverb.

When we begin to think of our physical belongings this way, the relative importance of them might decrease in relation to other things in our lives.  It’s an interesting study, if nothing else. 

Aparigraha as non-attachment acknowledges that change is a constant, and invites is to release our grasp on our own notions of how things should be, and instead see them for what they are.

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”  ~ Heraclitus

We know this intuitively, and as Heraclitus also said “The only constant is change.” and yet we get stuck in our own habits and ways of being, ways of seeing the world, ways of seeing ourselves and seeing other people.

The practice of aparigraha is a proactive step toward accepting what Heraclitus so eloquently summarizes for us.  Nothing is ever the same, and yet we go back to our notions of what is and how it is the way it is, clinging to ideas about the way the world looks rather than letting ourselves see it in its true nature.

In our study of satya, we looked at truthfulness and bringing this in to our aparigraha practice will serve us well.  When we look to truth, and are brave enough to see it for what it is, we practice aparigraha. 

Stop! Thief!

A few months ago, a neighbor of mine was arrested for stealing from cars and houses in our neighborhood.  He had broken into my car as well (which is not entirely true, I had left the door unlocked) but he didn’t take anything (that I noticed, anyway).

I have to say that more than anything else, I was shocked that something like this happened in Bristol, in our own driveway.  It seemed really unbelievable to me.  Even though he didn’t take anything from the car, I was so angry.  Angry that he’d nonetheless taken something of value to me: a sense of safety and comfort I had about living in this town.  I was so mad at him that I wanted to leave a note on his door telling him that he should be ashamed of himself.

But strangely, I was also grateful to him.  His actions reminded me that we aren’t living in some utopian version of small town America, but in real life, where sometimes, people do stupid, hurtful things to one another.

At Bristol Yoga Studio this month, we’re taking about a philosophical teaching of yoga called ‘asteya’ which translates from Sanskrit as ‘non-stealing’.  It’s also the 8^th commandment (of the 10 listed in the Bible), and generally a thing that we accept we shouldn’t do.

Among other definitions, the Oxford English Dictionary (“OED”) defines ‘steal’ as: “take or appropriate dishonestly (anything belonging to another, material or immaterial.)”  This really upends my whole idea of stealing.  It doesn’t have to be anything that is of value, we just have to take it dishonestly, (which, also according to the OED, means ‘lacking integrity or straightforwardness’).

So, to not steal from one another, we must engage in honest exchange, with integrity.
Generally, I think we think of stealing as taking something of value, like money or belongings or time, or even trust.  But according to this definition, stealing can be of something material or immaterial; its value doesn’t matter.  I’d argue that the value doesn’t matter because value is subjective.  What I value deeply might vary from what someone else values deeply.  We can’t decide for one another what is, or should be, of value, so this definition suggests that we should avoid stealing anything, regardless of whether we perceive it to be of value.

For example, we shouldn’t be stealing each other’s time.  There is nothing that I loathe more than sitting in a doctor’s office, having arrived for my appointment on time, and then being told that I have to wait, because the doctor is not running on schedule.  From my perspective, this practice is disrespectful of patients and suggests that the patient’s time is somehow worth less than the doctor’s.

But many of my friends and family welcome this time to sit and ‘do nothing’ while they wait for the doctor.  What feels like stealing to me, feels like a gift to another.  So value is subjective.

Admittedly, my own transgressions of this are many – how many times do I tell someone I’ll meet for lunch 12, but then not arrive until 12:15?   How many corporate meetings have I been to for which I wasn’t adequately prepared, and this way wasted the time of my colleagues?

More than just telling the cashier there was a math error in the change we are given, I think that being told to not steal is to ask us to live with integrity as we interact with one another.  I think to not steal is to acknowledge the value of each other’s contributions, possessions and attention, and behave accordingly.

Of course, it also means not eating the grapes while you’re shopping and before they’ve been weighed and adhering to store policies for returns and discounts.  It means paying your debts.  It means not breaking in to your neighbor’s car (even if the door is unlocked) and, most importantly it means behaving as if we all have value.

Because we do.

Asteya - "Non-Stealing"

Stealing something means to take, without consent, something that doesn’t belong to you.

I have been thinking a lot about our third yama ‘asteya’ for some time now and have been reading what others have written and have found it more difficult than our first two yamas (ahimsa and satya) to relate to regular life. 

So it’s taken me some time to get this blog post up, but not because I am not thinking about asteya, but because I am.  Here’s what I have come up with.

First, I really like what Deborah Adele has to say about asteya’s ultimate lesson – we have to prepare ourselves to receive what we would like to have.  For example, if you want to run the Boston Marathon, you have to first train as a runner, run other marathons at a pace that allows you to qualify, and then you have to actually run it.

Folks spend years training for an accomplishment such as this one.  Last year, I went to watch one of my closest friends run in the Boston Marathon and it was amazing to see all of these folks who had committed so much of themselves to this work.  Equally amazing was the pride, the joy and the support from the spectators.  It was as if everyone there knew that what we were witnessing was incredible, and we were bound together in happy recognition of this.

Asteya is like this, it says that to get to a certain place or stature or accomplishment, we have to let ourselves be where we are – we meet ourselves where we are with kindness (ahimsa) and honesty (truth) and from this place, we can prepare ourselves to receive that which we want (to run a marathon or do an arm balance or get out of debt).  Asteya expects truthfulness of where we are so as to not take the gifts of the future. 

Generally when we talk about ‘stealing’ something, that something has value, either to the one who took it or the one who it was taken from.  The two things that come first to mind that are of value are time and money.

With respect to time, I think of how frustrating it is for me to sit in a doctor’s waiting room when I’ve arrived for my appointment on time and I am expected to simply wait until the doctor gets to me.  I feel like I’ve been stolen from.  This led me to realize the importance of being prepared whenever I am meeting with someone I work with.  How frustrating is it to others when I show up to a meeting and am not ready to discuss our agreed upon topic?  Or when I haven’t reviewed the materials sent in advance?  I’ve tried to be mindful - before I make a phone call or send an email or leave a message -  that I am clear about what I want to say and in what way.  This shows the person I am talking to that I recognize the value of their time and am treating it accordingly. 

Of course asteya counsels to not steal physical belongings or money, but I think it’s more subtle than that as well.  It’s about receiving and providing value in exchange for another value (time or money) spent.   This is a tricky one because value is subjective because it has to do with an individual’s perception of what is valuable.  Accordingly, we have to look within ourselves to see what ‘feels’ best regarding what is given and what is received in return.  We have to take responsibility to communicate and understand our own expectations in the value equation. 

For example, some students at Bristol Yoga Studio love our 30-day unlimited class card because they come several times a week to yoga class.  For them, it’s a great value.  Others find it frustrating because they buy the 30-day card, then come only a handful of times in the 30 days and feel like it was a waste.  Which of them is correct?  I’d suggest that someone who buys the 30-day card without being certain of their commitment to be able to come is stealing from themselves.  That money was probably better spent on something that they would actually do.  I always advise people to be honest with themselves about their commitment to practicing yoga before buying the 30-day card. 

The last piece about asteya that I’ll mention here has to do with people helping one another.  The one who offers the help needs to be clear about what they expect in return, if anything, and whether the friend they are helping is willing and able to give it.  I have watched many a relationship suffer because people who were giving did not feel they were adequately acknowledged or appreciated for their work.  The question to ask ourselves is – ‘What do I expect from doing this work?”  Approaching the answer with satya (truthfulness) will shed light on expectations and begin to allow the exchange to also be filled with asteya. 

Satya - Non-lying / Truthfulness

“What are you not seeing because you are seeing what you are seeing?” Yogiraj Achala

“Truth has the power to right wrongs and end sorrows.  It is fierce in its demands and magnanimous in its offerings.  It invites us to places we rarely frequent and where we seldom know what the outcome will be.  Truth demands integrity to live and our own self that is more than not telling a simple lie.”  Deborah Adele

In order to know the truth, we have to first listen.  Can you steady yourself long enough to hear the truth of your physical body, your thoughts, your emotions?  Practicing yoga gives us an outlet to begin to quiet enough to just listen.  Beware!  What comes up might be tough, but holding a space for the truth of it – its simple ‘is-ness’ – is all that’s required.

As we learned in ahimsa, you don’t have to fix yourself.  A commitment to truth is simply about allowing the space for what already is, to be.  Looking at yourself, your life, your thoughts, your physical body with truth, can allow freedom of expression in what actually is. 

How often do you know the truth of your situation, but lack the courage to move on that truth?  When my son Max was diagnosed with craniosysnestosis at four months old, (the only treatment for which was surgery) my first reaction was, simply, NO.  I won’t let him have surgery.  I won’t allow that to happen to my precious boy.  Not because I am a medical doctor and knew better than the experts, but because I was utterly terrified at the risks we were facing.  The truth was, I didn’t know whether surgery was the right thing to do.  But instead of making space to face that non-knowing (and consider the potential that he would have surgery) I rushed to conclusion – Absolutely not – because of my own fear. 

In time, and with love, I found enough space to allow for the possibility of an outcome I didn’t want – surgery – because of something I knew to be true: there was nothing I wouldn’t do to take care of and love him, including facing my own fear. 

In the end, Adam and I spent a lot of time learning and researching the right thing to do for Max, constantly checking ourselves to make sure we were moving from a place of truth, not fear.  As I re-read that last sentence, it sounds so easy and clean.  But I can remember it being one of the hardest things I’ve ever done; I’m not sure I can adequately express here what that was like. 

Yoga helped.  When Max was in surgery months later, I steadied myself by doing an asana practice in the surgical waiting room. 

Often when I am leading a yoga class, I’ll advise folks to be “Right here, right now, and nowhere else.”  The truth of what is, in this very moment, is the place to move from.  Not last week’s practice, not the yoga body you want to have, but the one you have right now.  Practicing presence opens us up to see truth. 

You might as well be honest with yourself on the yoga mat.  

Consider satya through your practice this month, on and off the mat, and join us for the monthly discussion on March 20 at 7:30pm. 

Ahmisa Chat Tonight

We had a great time talking about ahimsa last night.  Thank you to everyone who attended and shared thoughts about this valuable lesson. 

We all agreed that we've got to be more gentle with the words we say to ourself about ourselves.  One of the quotes from the Adele book we highlighted was “I excite myself with my incompetencies.”  Meaning that whenever we find something that about ourselves that we aren’t good at (I used the example of consistently losing my keys) that instead of beating ourselves up over it, we can use that as an amazing opportunity to explore why it is so, and maybe make some space to support ourselves with kindness.  (Like giving myself permission to take my time coming into the house and stop rushing around.) Ahimsa to the self.

One thing that we all found tough as a group was to take the idea of ahimsa onto the mat.  The challenge of discerning between what we should ‘work through’ and what we should just notice is a tough one.  I think the work is really getting to a place where we can even consider getting that discernment.  That is the practice of yoga, and with ahimsa toward oneself (finding balance, finding love for oneself that is forgiving and lenient, and having courage to sit with fear) we can work toward that discernment in asana.

Ahimsa toward others can be expressed in not only not being physically violent, but also in trusting in someone else’s ability to move through their own life in a way that is best for them.  We don’t have to fix other people, or even worry about them.  To do so is its own act of violence.  Further, we don’t even have a right to decide for them what they think of us.  It’s not even up to us to decide how other people see us.  To presume to know that or decide that for someone is also its own act of violence toward another.  To let someone have their own experience, in its truth, no matter what we think of it, is practicing ahimsa toward others. 

As a take away from the discussion, we decided that we’d play around with the idea of pretending for a time that we’re already complete, and try to practice it for periods during the next week.  Deborah Adele suggests:  “There is no need to expect anything from yourself , or criticize or judge anything about you.  No need to compete with anyone, no need to be more than you are (or less than you are).  Note your experience.  Notice how much pleasure, kindness, and patience you can allow yourself to have with yourself.”  This is like the idea of ‘falling in love’ with yourself, where the object of your love (you) can do no wrong, are perfect just as you are.   

I say all the time in classes that everything is already ok – we don’t need to fix ourselves; we’re already perfect.  I mean it.  (More ahimsa to oneself.)

What do you think?  How do you see ahimsa on and off the mat?