The Yoga of Christ

This has  been a long overdue post. My apologies.  This is part two to Philip G. McLemore’s previous article titled Mormon Mantras: A Journey of Spiritual Transformation from Sunstone Magazine.

Like the last one, this is a long read, about 16 pages, but again, well worth it. In this one he goes more in depth about how the teachings of Christ really are like Yoga, and how you can use Yoga to live the teachings of Christ and to commune with God through them.

As his tagline reads:  “Is it possible that the teachings of Jesus are so comprehensive they encompass the core spiritual principles of both East and West?”

Click the link below to download a PDF copy of the article:

The Yoga of Christ

Life as an Illusion

Guest post by Justin Self:
http://www.myspace.com/machinefaultred

I have this very new feeling that life is like a dream, or an illusion.

Interestingly, I read at some time that this is a symptom of some depression or disorder. I think there is problem with this though, and that lies in the interpretation of illusion – first, a standard interpretation, then the Buddhist interpretation, which is often misunderstood (Western thought process):

Standard interpretation of “illusion”: you see water in the distance of the desert, but it is just a heat mirage – the water does not exist, though you may believe it to

Buddhism/Hinduism interpretation of “illusion”, as far as I understand it to be: our bodies and all that which surrounds us – whether physical matter, mental idea or thought, and emotions of love or suffering – are impermanent. They do not last forever. Things fade, things die. Things are temporary.

The fault with us as human beings is that, many of us grasp onto these things in our life, that we believe will always be there. You could say it is taking something for granted. The feeling of love with another is true, the house you own is true, the mental processes in your brain are true (on a physiological level, at least). So to say that such things are illusions inherently – yes, it’s hard to believe, and not easy to grasp.

However, what is illusionary of the above examples is this: that they last forever, or are perpetual. Within that concept, they are illusions. When we die, we will not have such things. Even though they may remain on this earth, they are no longer ours, whatever the possession may be. Again, it is temporary.

I think a big mistake which seems to be again, a very Western mistake, is assuming that “forever”, means one’s lifetime. “I will love you forever, I will always have this or that, I will never forget you”. So, within the scope of one’s lifetime – could you say any of the above examples in truth? Perhaps, but we know that sometimes things change, and that affects our feelings, thoughts and attachments. Now, within the scope of beyond your life, beyond your death – could you say any of the above examples in truth? No.

Then, from this perspective… is the thought of life being an illusion, or feeling illusionary – a mark of depression or disorder? I wholeheartedly believe no, if you accept the second interpretation of illusion, which again, is:

our bodies and all that which surrounds us – whether physical matter, mental idea or thought, and emotions of love or suffering – are impermanent. They do not last forever. Things fade, things die.

This can only mean one thing: I’ve come to a true realization and acceptance of mortality. I’ve come, to grasp the bigger picture of life – and able to understand the trivial from the significant. Though, that ability isn’t so new. For many years I realized what life in general, or my life – could suffice without. But I think that lately there is an extension of that ability. It’s grasping the impermanence of life as a whole, and how things fit therein.

For example, at some point we are going to cease living. It is something I never chose to accept, though I knew it to be true. Mentally perhaps emotionally I remained stubborn about it. Naturally, I still wouldn’t wish my life or another’s to end “before their time”. However, grasping the bigger picture and accepting the outcome, it makes you re-evaluate what really matters. I think this has manifested itself in how I interpret and react to things. For instance, I’m a very humble person – I won’t accept money or even food if offered if you are not family, sometimes even friend. Another example would be, caring what others think – whether it’s the music I’m listening to, what I’m writing about, what I have to say in a heated and open moment, or in a completely open expression of true feelings, of love.

Those examples, within the bigger picture that I have now, would be different now. Is it so bad to accept a kind offer once in awhile, am I so undeserving? No. Does it really matter what you think of me based upon the lyrics born of someone else’s heart, accompanied by music I enjoy? No. Does it matter that you might cast assumption at a glance of what I’m writing? No. Does it matter enough for me to become vulnerable and admit my feelings? No.

Why? Because any of those little bothers or moments of discomfort do not last forever. They are inherent to the moment at hand. Just as the bite of an honest few words, or the pain of a lost loved one, is impermanent in itself. It is how you react and carry yourself forward that determines how you feel from that point forward. Whether you want to grab that thorny branch of feelings, and pull it with you all your life – is your choice. But it doesn’t have to last forever, because – it doesn’t.

“On the basis of this misconception which ties together the hearts of the male and female, one becomes attracted to his body, home, property, children, relatives and wealth. In this way one increases life’s illusions and thinks in terms of ‘I and mine.”
Bhagavat Purana 5.5.8
http://hinduism.iskcon.com/concepts/105.htm

Love

My own suffering came through depression. I’ve learned to live with my own internal world in harmony – most of the time. Yesterday and the day before? Not so much. I cannot fully explain how the sister teachings of yoga and buddhism have changed my life. Only to say that working from the inside out is the only way I’ve been able to find peace, to create real transformation within. I sit here and I can feel myself climb out of two days of depression, amazed that it’s ready to move on so quickly. But that is what I’ve learned – almost everything is impermanent. The only steady in life is God. My old definition of God doesn’t resonate for me anymore, and through openness I’m rebuilding my concept of God. Maybe as I learn more, I’ll add to my definition, but so far the only truth I’ve really been able to fully accept is Katie’s: God is reality. Whatever is right in front me – that’s God. How can it be any other way? If God is the only unchanging thing, and God is reality, then I have to look really deep underneath all of the constructs of the mind to find something eternal. And, somewhere at the root of it all, lingering under everything – God is love.

One of my favorite reading combos is to read a section of the Dao, meditate on it, and then read the corresponding section of Byron Katie’s, A Thousand Names For Joy. When I read about those people who have had experiences of losing their ego, finding their true self, the description is always this unique way of looking at the world as LOVE. Love as a noun. Love as a verb. Love as the subject and the object. Love as everything. That resonates with me – I can feel it, I can understand that eternal part of myself as LOVE. Byron Katie gives an interesting interpretation of Dao 63, and a great story. It’s a story I’ve heard over and over by those who have had these experiences or glimpses at enlightenment. I wonder if the Buddha was here in our century, using modern terms, how he would recount his own story? (or would he?)

dao de ching 63

Act without doing;
work without effort
Think of the small as large
and the few as many.
Confront the difficult
while it is still easy;
accomplish the great task
by a series of small acts.

The Master never reaches for the great;
thus she achieves greatness.
When she runs into a difficulty,
she stops and gives herself to it.
She doesn’t cling to her own comfort;
thus problems are no problem for her.

Here’s an excerpt of Katie’s story, part of her chapter on Dao 63

I fell in love with myself one morning in February of 1986. I had checked myself into a halfway house in Los Angeles after years of suicidal depression. A week or so later, as I lay on the floor of my attic room (I felt too unworthy to sleep in a bed), a cockroach crawled over my foot, and I opened my eyes. For the first time in my life, I was seeing without concepts, wihtout thoughts or an internal story. All my rage, all the thoughts that had been troubling me, my whole world, THE whole world, was gone. There was no me. It was as if something else had woken up. IT opened its eyes. IT was looking through Katie’s eyes. And it was crisp, it was bright, it was new, it had never been here before. Everything was unrecognizable. And it was so delighted! Laughter welled up from the depths and just poured out. It breathed and was ecstacy. It was intoxicated with joy: totally greedy for everything. There was nothing separate, nothing unacceptable to it. Everything was its very own self. For the first time ( – it – experienced the love of its own life. I-it-was amazed! -clip-

To say it again: As I was lying there in the awareness, AS the awareness, the thought arose: “It’s a foot.” And immediately I saw that it wasn’t true, and the delight of it. I saw that it was all backward. It’s not a foot; it’s not a cockroach. It wasn’t true, and yet there was a foot, there was a cockroach. But there was no name for any of these things. There were no separate words for wall or ceiling or face or cockroach or foot or any of it. So it was looking at its entire body, looking at itself, with no name. Nothing was separate from it, nothing was outside it, it was all pulsing iwth life and delight, and it was all unbroken experience. To separate that wholeness, to see anything as outside itself, wasn’t true. The foot was there, yet it wasn’t a separte thing, and to call it a foot, or an anything, felt absurd. And the laughter kept pouring out of me. I saw that cockroach and foot are names for joy, that there are a thousand names for joy, and yet thre is no name for what appears as real now. This was the birth of awareness: thoughts reflecting back as itself, seeing itself as everything, surrounded by the vast ocean of its own laughter.

Then it stood up, and that was amazing. There was no thinking, no plan. It just stood up and walked to the bathroom. IT walked to the mirror, and it locked onto the eyes of its own reflection, and it understood. And that was even deeper than the delight it had known before, when it first opened its eyes. It fell in love with that being in the mirror. It was as if the woman and the awareness of the woman had permanently merged. There were only the eyes, and a sense of abosolute vastness, with no knowledge in it. It was as if I – she – had been shot through with electricity. It was like God giving it-self life through the body of the woman – God so loving and bright, so vast-and yet she knew that it was herself. IT made such a deep connection with her eyes. There was no meaning to it, just a nameless recognition that consumed her.

Love was the best word I can find for it. It had been split apart, and now it was joined. There was it moving, and then it in the mirror, and then it joined as quickly as it had separated-it was all eyes. The eyes in the mirror were the eyes of it. And it gave itself back, as it met again. And that gave it its identity, which I call love. As it looked in the mirror, the eyes – the depth of them-were all that was real, all that existed. Prior to that, nothing-no eyes, no anything; even standing there, there was nothing. And then the eyes come out to give it what it is. People name things a wall, a ceiling a foot, a hand. But it had no name for these things, because it’s indivisible. And it’s invisible. Until the eyes. Until the eyes. I remember tears of gratitude pouring down the cheeks as it looked at its own reflection. It stood there staring for I don’t know how long.

These were the first moments after I was born as it, or it as me. There was nothing left of Katie. There was literally not even a shred of memory of her-no past, no future, not even a present. And in that openness, such joy. There’s nothing sweeter than this, I felt; there is nothing but this. If you loved yourself more than anything you could imagine, you would give yourself this. A face. A hand. Breath. But that’s not enough. A wall. A ceiling. A window. A bed. Lightbulbs. Ooh! And this too! And this too! And this too! I felt that if my joy were told, it would blow the roof off the halfway house-off the whole planet. I still feel this way.

Paradise Now

I came across a blog the other day and have found myself very much relating to the words of Dharma Brother Pete.  He has many posts that I find illustrate some of the emotions and mental situations I currently find myself in.

His post titled Paradise Now falls right in line with my previous one Treading Water.  In fact, I came across his right after I posted it.  With his permission, I would like to share with you what he wrote.  I don’t know that you will get anything out of it like I have, but although I still struggle his post gives me a sense of hope that it will all works itself out.

Paradise Now
By Pete Hoge

In my youth I was taught to think that the possibilities of peace and joy were only possible in the “afterlife”, as it is understood in the Christian faith.

This life was a rehearsal for an eternity of relief in the hands of the God of Abraham, and that I was being watched all the time and my actions noted so that I could be judged upon reaching the “pearly gates”.

Thankfully I had a questioning Mind and gradually worked my way out of this destructive hogwash, and at this point in time I have gained freedom from these stories.

I am not sure when the moment happened, probably not too many years ago, when I finally let go of the concept of God, as defined in the Bible, and absorbed and new paradigm into my being.

“I don’t know”

This is how the Buddha answered this question of “god”, or eternalism in public discourse , reserving his opinion for it was really his own business., as the point of Buddhist practice is constant questioning of phenomenological experience… he said..”Find out for yourself”.

I have encountered every argument for and against “God” and eventually I stopped asking, because I was interested in how to alleviate and reduce suffering as it presented itself right in front of my face. I stopped the obsessive churning of ideas and concepts about divinity quite suddenly and was mercifully OK with the option of ,” I don’t know”.

And perhaps even, “I don’t care”.

Which amounts to cursing said diety which earns you the sweet spot in the deepest Hell.

Hell and Heaven are stories, as is much of the Bible, and it’s theologies. A lot of unverifiable conjecture and theory which cannot be proven.

Of course I realize that I have accepted a new body of information, new stories, that speak of how the Buddha gained enlightenment, and how we as disciples can verify every step he took through our own practice.

Most importantly we can question and debate at every level, and understand that the cultures of Asia put their own filter over the Dharma as it passed through the centuries.

I am relieved of the burden of anticipating some kind of judgment in the afterlife from a God who I was never sure existed, and I can open my eyes wider and wider to the paradise in front of me.

I am experiencing what freedom is really like.

Please share you thoughts if you have any about this. I know we won’t all have the same view, but I’m curious to know what you think.

morphing

This week brought me some new insight. My business partner at the Yoga Studio is both a marriage/family counselor and a Yoga Therapist. The philosophy of Yoga therapy falls right in line with my own experience; that the body speaks to us and that we have everything that we need inside of ourselves for our own healing and understanding. This method of Yoga Therapy as taught through Phoenix Rising consists of the therapist putting the practitioner in yoga postures and holding them physically at their edge while they talk about their experience. The experience consists of moving through the physical body, the prana/subtle body, the mind and the emotions. It is completely self-led, the most the therapist says is: “what’s happening now?” and occasionally repeats the last sentence you say, so you can hear yourself clearly.

I decided it would be a fun thing to try. In the session, I picked an issue I wanted to work on, we set an intention, started with a simple meditation to center ourselves, and then she physically put me into postures. The fascinating thing was that I was bringing up intensely detailed memories of my childhood – things I hadn’t thought about since the time they happened. I didn’t bring up any memories of significant or huge events in my life, more simplicity, like the crazy 1975 wallpaper in my mom’s kitchen and walking home from school with my hair swinging in the wind. Memory after memory came up and they were all nice, warm and fuzzy. There was one key thread that strung all of those fabulous memories together – the Mormon church. Every memory had to do with my Mormon family, my Mormon friends, my Mormon way of life. I was left at the end of the session with a lot of insight – realizing that I often long for my own experience currently in the church to feel as real as it did for me as a child. I also realized how profoundly I love what the church provided for me in my life, and how that translates into the disappointment I feel that the gospel is not what I thought it was while growing up. The session was really positive.

Two days later, I trekked to Santa Cruz with a group of moms from my current ward. I haven’t had much of an opportunity to get to know sisters in this ward because we’ve only been here a year, and I’ve been putting more space between myself and the church. Working full time also puts me in the minority, leaving no time for group park days, etc. There was a nice group there, nice kids, beautiful beach. One of the things I love about the church is that it puts me in contact with people I would normally never be friends with. Such was the case yesterday. The other moms brought doritos, I brought wheat thins. The other mom’s are reading Star Magazine, I’m reading A Path With Heart. One mom was complaining about the weather, I was in the water playing with my kids. They all believe that Joseph Smith was a prophet, I don’t. For the most part it doesn’t bother me. I guess I’m glad for feeling of family I have with them, regardless of our differences. Sometimes, it just feels frustrating.

Backtracking to May when Greenfrog (fellow Mormon/Buddhist/Yogi, only labeled for the sake of the story) came to the yoga studio for a photos shoot. It was a very interesting day for me, being able to instantly talk with Greenfrog without having to interpret vocabulary or explain beliefs. The similarities of our backgrounds within the church, our periods with depression, the experiences with yoga, bhakti, meditation, even the books we’ve read lined up so closely. It seemed that there was this shared understanding – just as I felt with members of the church before my disaffection. He would say something and I would nod my head in understanding and vice versa. During this year due to my unique viewpoints of spirituality, I had come to the conclusion that I was on my own. I felt OK about being alone and that realization brought me a lot of peace along with a lot of inner-strength I didn’t know I had. So it was a real surprise and joy to meet Greenfrog through our blogs, and then again in person. Somehow talking to him was very comforting, confirming my own thoughts that I really am indeed sane. We prefaced the photo shoot with meditation, chanting and a short yoga practice. While sitting in meditation it was still and peaceful and powerful. Toward the end when my mind started becoming active again, two things hit me: #1 – imagine what the church would be like if we all put down our to-do lists and simply sat together in being. I can’t imagine anything more profound, it cuts right through to the heart of spirituality. #2 – this is what the pioneers felt like! How wonderful it is to find somebody who shares your experience in spirituality, and practice together. The Mormon terms of Brother and Sister seemed so easily felt in the simple quiet of doing nothing. No wonder the pioneers wanted to create zion and be around like-minded, like-believing people. It feels good.

I’ve always hated the word maturity. It seems a bit arrogant. As I go through my own practice and path though, that word keeps popping up for me, as if it is morphing into something more palatable for me to digest. I look at these experiences and realize that along with change and acceptance comes a maturity within the spiritual realm. For me, part of that maturity is learning not to resist what is right in front of me. Not to label it away, or disown it because of a simple aversion. Not to think that people should be any different than what they are, or that I should recreate my childhood, or that everyone should understand me. Certainly not that the church should hold everything for me now the way that it did through my 9-year old eyes. Finding acceptance for the way things are is helping me continue to grow and learn. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out where to put little pieces of myself, where I will invest it and where I won’t. As I accept the idea of spiritual maturity, I’m having an easier time listening to my instincts and deciding where I want to be.

I am left wondering though, will the dust ever settle?

Mormon Mantras: A Journey of Spiritual Transformation

Sattva brought to my attention a wonderful article that was written for Sunstone magazine titled “Mormon Mantras: A Journey of Spiritual Transformation” by Philip G. McLemore. She wanted me to share it with you all here as she felt that in this article he eloquently explained the differences between spirituality and Mormonism. I would have to agree with her. It was a wonderful read and very well written indeed.

It’s not a short article by any means (12 pages in magazine form) but well worth the read. Although I won’t post the entire article contents here due to it’s length, I will provide a link for you to download it directly from Sunstone. So please take the time, when you can, to give it a read and post your thoughts! Enjoy!

Click the link below to download a PDF copy of the article:

Mormon Mantras: A Journey of Spiritual Transformation

The Story

Capital T, capital S. I was raised by an English teacher and taught how to love a good book. As the story goes, I finished Kindergarten, and came home crying because I hadn’t learned to read yet, and couldn’t ride a bike. My mom was due any day with child number 4, but she ran behind my bike anyway with her knees hitting her belly until I took off on my own. And every time she nursed my little sister I would climb up on the couch next to her, blankie in hand, to read. I became a voracious little reader and my baby sister fell in love with my special blankie.

Aren’t stories wonderful? I love listening to people, their history, their drama. I’ve come to realize though, that stories aren’t always necessarily real, or helpful. One of the keys of freedom is to put some space between you and your story! Staying in the present moment is a key to jumping out of the wheel rut of karma and into a new realm. You can’t do that if you’re attached to your story.

So, as I get ready to open this yoga studio, I’ve had so many chances to practice this. Friday I was tired, and stuck in my story. It was a pretty valid story. Can I share? I am the only experienced yogi on this yoga studio project. My intention is to set the studio apart from a spa experience or a gym, or even a pilates studio. I want the curriculum to be meaty and transformational. I also want to bring my own unique viewpoint of light-heartedness and joy into the space. So, in my mind, the literal space should reflect the funk that is Cosmic Dog Yoga. The studio Cosmic Dog Yoga should be a little, well - Cosmic.

Here comes the drama. I’ve worked hard on the design. I want it to have that hippie feel. Along comes my contractor (LDS guy, great friends with my non-LDS business partner), and he is one of these quintessential male-types. A nice enough guy, but doesn’t know how to listen and just does whatever he wants once you’re gone. (I know – labeling, but remember… it’s just a story…) He is a talented craftsman and a super reliable guy. Try as I might though, I just can’t convince him that the space should have an air of imperfection – a tacky bulletin board door, atrociously bright wall, or crazy wall mural of an elephant God. Now the story gets good. I wanted the door to my office to covered in cork so that it would be a community hub of personal notes, business cards and random bits of love. We had a fabulous discussion about doors. It went something like this.

Me: I want my office door to be plain and cheap because I’m going to cover it with cork.

Him: You don’t want that – it will feel like a cave.

Me: Perfect! Yogis love caves.

Him: A bulletin board will look horrible, it will be hoakie. Bad hoakie. Architecturally it doesn’t work.

Me: I love hoakie. I think you’re getting it.

Him: Ok, so I’m ordering the glass door in the morning.

Ahhhh! Isn’t that a good story? Then I add to it in my mind with a “he shouldn’t be this way” and a “he doesn’t get it” and a “he hasn’t even ever been in a yoga studio before!” and I have a complete drama going!

I’m aware enough of The Story to realize that I’m starting to get attached to it and replay it in my mind and I just can’t reconcile that I want the space to have a certain feel. To transport you to a new place just when you walk into the door. I have a vision after all, and it’s my job to manifest that vision! I called my mom (a recovered LDS member and life-coach/wise women) and admitted my frustration and attachment. I told her I knew it was time to leave the story within the situation, and asked her “what do I do with my desire?, my vision?” And then she helped me have a huge “a-ha” moment. I said, “I need to let go of my story now”, and she said “oh Sattva! I love stories. I love a good book, a good movie. I love listening to teenagers and friends tell their stories. I just don’t believe them.” And then she proceeded to teach me how to hold my space a little bit, to stay true to my higher consciousness while saying “No” in a loving way without engaging ego.

This little bit of knowledge has been so freeing for me. Friday it came in my mom’s words, but it has been coming at me indifferent forms for years. Don’t believe everything you think. Doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy the story, just don’t believe it. Of course the contractor should be that way, he is. Of course I should stay true to my vision – that’s why it’s my yoga studio. (relative term of course)

Anyway, I was struck with how accurate that statement was when applied to how I’ve made peace with the LDS church. I love the story that’s told in church. I love the idea of Joseph being perfect and the pioneers crossing the plains as literal Saints. I love the story that the world is neat and tidy and that if we just stay on the straight and narrow path and don’t veer off, we’ll be saved from all of our sins. That story has an answer to most of the fears of humanity.

Eventually though, it just didn’t match up to the reality of life in front of me and the observations I made in the world around me. The LDS doctrine and story offered little help navigating the wilds of my mind. Truth has shown me that there just isn’t a straight and narrow, nor should I try to stay on one path. It takes many paths, many meanderings, and an embrace of jungle life to really find bliss and the perfection of what is. It’s taken a while, but admitting that I love the story anyway has helped me to make peace with the church. Great story. I just don’t believe it.

For me, not believing the story has given me liberation. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Anyone else?

*Sattva