Showing posts with label resolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label resolution. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

KNOWLEDGE, NOT GOALS; or RESOLUTIONS PART 2


"Correct knowledge is direct, inferred, or proven as factual" (B.K.S. Iyengar, Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali).

"The sources of right knowledge are direct perception, inference and scriptural testimony" (Swami Satchidananda, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali).

"Knowledge embraces personal experience, inference, and insights from the wise" (Nischala Joy Devi, The Secret Power of Yoga).

When we hear the word resolution it's difficult not to think a little cynically about all the long-gone Januarys marked with to-do lists, plans, goals, fresh-starts, make-overs, dreams, and intentions that had fizzled by February. The turning of the calendar year is a new beginning fully capable of being a symbolic inspiration for your own new beginnings, but perhaps if we reclaim the true meaning of resolution we'll be more likely to follow through with the ones we make regardless of the time of year.

A resolution is a decision. To be resolute is to be decisive, determined, and intentioned. It denotes a strength of character; an earnestness bordering at times on stubbornness. To be resolute means to know what you want and what you're willing to do to get it. There is an ongoing theme presented throughout yoga literature (ancient and modern) that exhorts the importance of resolutely (i.e. firmly, unwaveringly, devotedly) committing yourself to your practice in order to produce optimal results.

It is not, however, perfection or pursuit to the point of harm or imprisonment. You can be resolute and also be permitted to change your mind. You can be strong and also kind to yourself. And you can be determined in the face of faults and obstacles. In fact, it is through the waverings and the doubts and the unknowns that we often learn the most. It is precisely when things go less-than-optimally that we most clearly come to understand what optimal really is.

Understanding is the key. Resolution comes from the same Latin roots as the word resolve. The prefix re- means "again" and "repeatedly." The word solve literally means "to explain clearly," and its roots mean "to loosen" and "to release." So resolve means to repeatedly explain some thing or idea, to loosen its complexities, to release ignorance in order to make the thing or idea clear. To resolve, to be resolute, means to enhance your understanding through repetition. We try, we fall short, and we try again (and fall short again and try again and so on), and in that way we get a little closer to the goal each time.

Actually, think about a resolution as being more related to knowledge than to goal-setting. Or that knowledge itself (rather than fewer pounds on the scale or more asanas on the mat or more peace in the world) is the goal, and that through knowledge those other things might manifest. By stripping away misunderstandings, ignorance, delusions, vanities, criticisms, and judgments, we enhance our intelligence which allows us to make good choices, and good choices are much more likely to be followed through with than poor ones. Good choices are proper and reasonable: they are made with your best interests in mind, and they utilize all the accurate information which is available to you in that moment. You cannot make decisions based on information you don't have, information only knowable through hindsight or fortune-telling, or falsities. Good choices are made from correct knowledge.

In the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali tells us that correct knowledge (pramana) comes from three sources: (1) direct perception -- pratyaksa, (2) inference -- anumana, and (3) expert testimony -- agamah.

Direct perception (pratyaksa) is the rightness of your own experiences. It is the proper functioning of your senses and mental and emotional states: when you see something or hear something or feel something, and know it to be true. Now this could easily lead us down a hole of complicated discussions in the fields of metaphysics, epistemology, theology, and more. We are not going there: it is not worth our while to fixate on the fact that senses and emotions are obscure and can be faulty. Suffice it to say that direct perception is the feeling you have when you are aligning yourself with truth; when your intuitions tell you you're right. But rely on them with caution.

Inference (anumana) is an act of deduction, of figuring out the truth. Because we know that fire makes smoke, when we see smoke we can rightly infer fire is nearby. The fire itself need not be directly perceived for you to know its truth. Likewise you do not need to touch every fire to know that it is hot; you figured that out the first time your little toddler fingers reached out for the shiny pot on the stove. We make lots of inferences while on the yoga mat. We quickly learn things like I must practice before breakfast, not after, to avoid an upset stomach, or Standing poses perk me up when I'm feeling sluggish, or My chronic knee pain feels better after I've stretched my legs and hips without weight-bearing. Inferences help you make good choices, and even turn into direct perceptions by becoming past experiences from which you construct new ones. But you must be careful to avoid making false correlations.

Remember maya's fun-house mirror from a few posts ago? If you believe that all mirrors reflect accurate images and you see yourself in a fun-house mirror, you will falsely infer that that warped reflection is true. If you have incorrect knowledge about mirrors, you cannot make accurate inferences regarding their function. Likewise you may have some false knowledge leading you to make incorrect inferences about yoga such as Yoga is used as a healing therapy, therefore it is safe, or Stress and discomfort are bad, so I'm going to avoid feeling those things when I practice. Yoga is in fact used as a healing therapy, but you cannot then turn that into a broad statement about its risks or lack thereof. And of course some stresses and discomforts are bad; they can indicate harm or injury. But not always. The right kind of stress and discomfort is precisely what is necessary to affect positive change within the body and mind. Yoga can teach you to make good and mindful choices when you sense discomfort.

When we cannot perceive a truth directly or infer it, we can turn to the testimony of an expert or authority (agamah). We seek out guidance from trusted individuals who have more knowledge than we have; their ideas have been proven true through evidence, analysis, and repeated successful trials. Deciding upon a valid authoritative voice can be tricky since they are susceptible to false knowledge just as we are, and yet our teachers, gurus, leaders, and mentors are invaluable to our learning process as wisdom begets wisdom. When relying on the truth of another's testimony, we must be equally impartial and critical; we must consider their words with an open but scrutinizing mind.

An idea which comes from one or more of these sources can be considered correct knowledge and used to make good choices. For instance, your most trusted teacher tells you that having more patience will allow you to better endure life's hardships (testimony). Then she instructs you to prepare for Crow Pose (bakasana) which scares you, so ordinarily you stiffen up, clamp your jaw, and flail your feet behind you in an attempt to balance (or jet to the bathroom and avoid it altogether). But you have resolved to cultivate more patience, so you actually hear her words this time. As you exhale, you soften and surrender to the inevitability of the moment -- I balance or I don't balance and it is all good because no single asana defines me, and I will be stronger for having tried. Then your toes lift just an inch off the floor and you balance for a seemingly eternal five seconds (direct perception). The next time you find yourself poised for the pose, you remind yourself, When I feel impatient, I feel out of control. I endure better when I am patient. Patience lessens challenge. And you begin to associate patience with success in balancing poses (inference). You do it again and again, in more and more poses and off-the-mat, too. Now your resolve has created a new habit; not because you set a goal, but because you increased your understanding of what you wanted and returned to it over and over again.

Your work with patience as well as with crow pose is nowhere near complete. But you have the basis of correct knowledge which allows you to make good choices which keeps you committed and determined (i.e. resolute) which affects positive change. A goal by itself is just a what; a resolution is a what with how and why. When you make a resolution, do so with the intention of learning something about yourself, and know that (1) it will take repeated attempts to do it well, and (2) any achievement or result other than knowledge is a secondary reward, a bonus of sorts (a thrilling and meaningful one, for sure, but a bonus nonetheless).


Image: Yoga Sutra I.7 as translated by Chip Hartranft, 2003.


Tuesday, January 6, 2015

GRACIOUSNESS ON THE MAT, or HOW TO SAY THANK YOU AND MEAN IT


spent much of the last several weeks focused on the joy and well-being of others in the form of giving presents. And now perhaps your focus is shifting toward more self-centeredness in the form of the New Year's Resolution. Of course the degree to which you participate in either giving to others or to yourself can fall anywhere along a continuum of possibility, but it is nearly impossible to escape the season without being affected by its tones of generosity. And nothing pairs better with gift-giving -- regardless of the recipient -- than gratitude. So how grateful are you these days?

A traditional way of showing gratitude in Indian culture is through the ritual offering of prasad. In Sanskrit, the roots of the word prasad mean "to be gracious" and "to be satisfied." Prasad is an exchange, not an unrequited giving: a devotee offers prasad (often in the form of food or flowers) to a diety, or a student offers prasad to a guru, and something valuable is offered in return (the consumption of the now consecrated foods, for instance or the instillation of knowledge or insight). For the devotee to openly and genuinely receive what is being offered to them is a gracious gesture, is their own reception of prasad.

Most people naturally feel inclined to say or write a Thank You when receiving a present, although gratitude is known to come in varying degrees of fervor. When somebody hands you a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant you say Thank You and you mean it. When you're gifted an unattractive sweater, on the other hand, maybe the Thanks has lost some of its sincerity despite your best efforts to believe "it's the thought that counts." And when you wake up in the morning with a life to live and a body to live in, you just ooze gratitude and promptly exclaim it, right?? Probably not, unfortunately, because it is much more difficult to offer a Thank You of any kind for those things we don't necessarily acknowledge as gifts or for those things to which we have grown accustomed. But the ancient yogis believed that life itself is a gift deserving of the utmost graciousness. The wisdom they have passed down through ritual and literature continues to teach us that offering prasad is one way to say a heartfelt Thank You for the life you live and the body you live in.

Yoga instructor and author Christina Sell writes candidly about using yoga to cultivate self-awareness and self-acceptance, particularly in regards to one's physical body, in her book "Yoga from the Inside Out." She says:

"Life as it is, in the moment, is a gift from the Divine -- 'the present.' How many times a day do we refuse the gift by complaining, avoiding, or compulsively attempting to bend reality to our whim rather than simply surrendering to the way that things are? We think nothing of exchanging something we have been given for something we perceive as better. (God forbid we actually wear a shirt we didn't like very much as a way to honor the gift giver.) When our body doesn't meet our expectations we criticize it, dress in ways that hide it and try to manipulate our appearance through diets and exercise. We even custom order body parts from plastic surgeons rather than face our feelings of inferiority and insecurity with how we are in the moment.

When we step away from this consumer mentality and enter into spiritual life we practice seeing the present moment as a gift -- perfectly designed for us to learn from. We remember that if we were supposed to be different in this very moment, we would be. If life were supposed to be different right now, it would be. We use our yoga practice to observe ourselves as we are, rather than for how we aren't good enough. When we accept our life as it is and our body as it is and when our yoga practice reflects this type of acceptance, we are making peace. Metaphorically, we are aligning ourselves with the ancient ritual of exchanging prasad.

...When we offer our practice and ourselves to the Divine as prasad, we get back the gift of the present moment. When we fail to accept the present moment, just as it is, we are refusing the gift the Divine has given us. We are refusing to participate in the exchange of prasad. Imagine the Divine Itself giving you a present and you saying, 'Well, thank you but I would really prefer it in a different size and color. Perhaps I could just exchange it -- you won't mind, will you?' When we accept our bodies and our lives in the present moment just as they are, we complete the ritual exchange of presad. Acceptance is the way we open the gift we have been given, use it to its fullest potential and say 'thank you'" (92-94).

Perhaps as a gift to yourself, setting an intention to cultivate self-acceptance and graciousness could be your New Year's Resolution. Maybe you're opposed to the traditional idea of resolutions; that's fine. Call it a theme or a project or a life-lesson instead. Chances are you're a good giver; we inherently care about the joy and well-being of those around us and think very little about giving giving giving (even if that's sometimes more pronounced seasonally). Yoga is a quest of balance, and giving without receiving (from others as well as from yourself!) is a life out of balance. Practice giving yourself unconditional love, patience, support, and encouragement. Then practice actually receiving those things, using them fully, and saying Thank You.


Image: Yoga Sutra I.33 as translated by Chip Hartranft, 2003

Quote: Sell, Christina. Yoga from the Inside Out: Making Peace with your Body Through Yoga. Prescott: Hohm Press, 2003. Print.