I was inspired to write this today after a session with my student.
Her question was how one could have a family and be dedicated to a spiritual practice at the same time.
We often have the tendency to fear losing our identities. Even people who want to forget who they are because of guilt or shame, they still have the attachment to who they are and who they have been. We may be able to handle a little changes of environment, jobs or relationships. But the ideas of who we are are so dear and holy to us that we develop an intense attachment. In yoga, we call this Ahaṃkāra, the I-making. It is one of the functions of the mind according to the Vedic tradition.
Something as simple as “I am the yoga teacher, who is a mother, who is a daughter, who is Japanese, whose home is in Okinawa, yet spent half of life in Canada…” starts to feel so solid in us that if anything changes, it takes time for us to adjust. My teacher of A Course In Miracles used to call this Stories Of Me. While we are telling ourselves “stories of me”, we may unconsciously avoid any opportunities simply because “it’s just not me”, and simultaneously may save us from any dangers or regrets “so we stay safe.” But then, what is life without unexpected events? Unexpectedly falling in love, unexpectedly getting a huge raise, unexpectedly falling into traps and incur huge bills. All of these life’s unexpected things have one thing in common; they all come in some form of relationships. Relationship with a public servant, your partner, a school principal, airport security. Life cannot go on without relationships. And these unexpected things that came with new or old relationships create folders in our mind on the shelf for Ahaṃkāra, stories of me.
And what does all this have to do with yoga and leading a “normal” life? My teacher, Michael Stone used to say this;
“Our relationships are our yoga practice; our practice exists not in some other place at some other time but in this very interconnected existence- you, I, water, trees, cards, winds and breath.”
If you were born in an Ashram or a temple, that is where your practice is. If you were born with a family in a village or city somewhere with parents, that is where your practice is. Wherever you are is your practice. Do what is necessary and do not do anything for what is unnecessary. Discerning what is necessary in the moment is part of our yoga practice. To do necessary things like paying bills, picking up your children at school, making beds, with a whole heart, that is what is called Householder’s yoga. It is a yoga practice that does not separate our ordinary lives and spiritual practices. It is a tradition based on Vedic and Tantric lineages. When you are cooking for your family and sitting in meditation in the morning, there is no separation between those two images of you. They are in the same spectrum of who you are and one cannot exist without the other. In other words, whatever choices you make, you make them and face the consequences with your whole heart and the same dedication, then what could be more yogic and sacred than that? While some may say our normal, ordinary life must reorganize itself to make room for spiritual practice, I believe that it is the other way around. A spiritual practice should be seamlessly blended into our ordinary daily lives.