Apurva – Yoga with Jenn

Sally Kempton’s Awakening Shakti: The Transformative Power of the Goddesses of Yoga serves to provide a deeper understanding of and appreciation for the various goddesses associated with Tantric Narrative. While familiar with each of the goddesses covered due to the dharma talks during various trainings with Janet, this text not only elaborated on those teachings but also illuminated each goddess in form and function. 

With each chapter dedicated to a goddess, Kempton details the stories associated with her, how to approach the goddess, how to ask for help, how the goddess is revealed, characteristics of the goddess (including the shadow side), and concludes with mantras. What was particularly illuminating was Kempton’s application of the goddess in everyday life involving ordinary people; thus bringing into view each goddess through a contemporary lens that offers a very modern and realistic perspective. In fact, on numerous occasions while reading, I found myself reflecting on situations and events that revealed my own connections with each deity. 

Kempton’s description of a cartoon she had seen in the New Yorker featuring Durga made me laugh, but on the other hand, it also really resonated with me. I had to find it!

As a mother and retired educator, the personality of Durga is evident in me, “When you feel drawn to this goddess, it usually indicates one of two things: either you need an infusion of Durga-like strength, or you carry the Durga archetype as part of your personality . . . .  warrior-style leadership.” (68). Juggling a high pressure job and domestic life, I was the epitome of a multi-tasker (oftentimes to my own detriment). By day, I was a high school teacher with 2-3 different courses to plan, teaching 5-6 periods a day, and attempting to empower classrooms full of struggling, impoverished adolescents. By night, I was a mother and wife – two roles of which I am very protective. The shadow side of Durga is her need for “control to the level of micromanagement”, but this applies only to myself as it manifests in my OCD as a result of the “relentless inner critic” highlighting every one of my faults and flaws (72). According to Kempton, “[o]ne way to get a felt sense of the Durga Shakti is to remember a moment when you recognized, from the deepest place inside of you, that something was wrong, that it had to change.” (73). This moment for me was when my son was 2-years old: my father had passed from Non Hodgkin’s Lymphoma associated with Agent Orange exposure in Vietnam; my mother was undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer; and my son had entered the “terrible twos”. As a result of a particular moment when my frustrations and anger were beyond my control, I saw myself turning into my mother. It scared me. I had to make a change. Thus, I found refuge in a local yoga studio and discovered a path towards revealing and healing.

Lakshmi’s qualities of “generosity, loving-kindness, carefulness, unselfishness, gratitude . . . discipline, cleanliness, and order” also resonate with me to the point of imbalance (106-107). I will often make sacrifices for others to the detriment of my own time, resources, energy, etc. However, since retiring from public education, I’ve been able to find more balance in my daily life (to include keeping a tighter budget). While reading the chapter on Lakshmi, I took pause, “In India, the yearly Lakshmi festival begins with a thorough house cleaning. Everything in the house is scrubbed and polished, and only when the dust and first have been removed is the household considered ready to welcome Lakshmi.” (109). Before reading this particular chapter, I had taken advantage of my husband, son, and dog being gone for a week; to create balance, I focused on deep cleaning and polishing one room of the house at a time over the course of the week. Coincidence? Or prophetic?

Kempton’s exercise “Dialoguing with Kali” outlines writing down questions for Kali with your dominant hand (for me, right) and then writing the answers with your nondominant hand. This immediately reminded me of a similar application to my own practice. Over the past few years, Ida and Pingala nadis have really transformed my practice and my teachings. I began with longer holds on the left side during yin and restorative classes; and a couple of weeks ago, I began my cueing the left side first as opposed to the right – much to the confusion of all. Kali also surfaced in a recent event at a local Starbucks. After a yoga class, a long time friend and I decided to stop for a coffee. While we were conversing and regaling in laughter, another patron began yelling at us, “Can you quiet down. No one here is interested.” Kali’s fire indeed, “[Sometimes] the way through Kali’s fire is utter surrender . . . sometimes, it’s quite simply our ability to love her even in her terrible form.” (140). While my friend wanted to yell back, I discouraged him by simply saying, “The holidays are tough for some people.” 

In Part One: Receiving the Energy of Parvati, I was reminded of a memorable moment during aarti at our New Year’s Eve Puja in India that, even now, brings tears to my eyes. After a round of Bhakti, Janet circulated to perform tilaka (the application of the kumkum powder). When she knelt down before me, and our eyes met, I was overcome with emotion, “Parvati’s strong and tender love-light now illuminates your heart, purifying it of wounds and blocks, dispelling the armor that you’ve erected around it. As your heart opens and releases its blocks, tears might come. Let them flow.” (162). During this dramatic pause in time and space, I acknowledged the divineness that resides deep within her as well as within myself.

According to Kempton, “[w]hen words flow easily, when ideas come up out of nowhere, when you say something so powerful and profound that it surprises even you, you are experiencing Saraswati” (178). This happens often as I guide classes to create sacred space by which to begin or to end one’s practice. The wealth of knowledge I have gained since beginning my training with Janet has been held, permeated my heart and mind to the point that it has become a part of me and has led me to express things in my own words in unique ways (187). I have experienced her “creative flow through language, speech, and sound” on numerous occasions, particularly in mantra or Bhakti (179). Singing has always come naturally to me. I remember the first class I ever took with Janet at the Midwest Yoga Conference; I never felt more alive and empowered through the Bhakti she offered. Like Saraswati, I enjoy “solving intellectual and artistic problems, discovering connections and new paradigms” (179). As a public educator, students always were amazed at how I was able to empower them by asking “the right question – the question that elicits a new way of thinking or a different way to look at a problem.” (180). Like Saraswati, I am “a proof-reader, a timekeeper, a perfectionist.” (191). I also connect with her in what Kempton states is “arousal from below.” (195).  All through college, writing was the “process of regurgitating it onto paper, resisting the urge to edit . . . Later to . . . sculpt the mess of words” into a well-written essay (192). After all the writing and research, the moment I walked away, the inspiration arrives (195). As for her shadow side, this too rings true for me as “negative self-talk all linger in the heart . . . the brain is wired to remember the negative much more easily than the positive.” (182). But I am continuing the work necessary to change the narrative. 

While additional deities were also included in this text, the foregoing were the ones that truly resonated with me in one way or another. I would definitely recommend it to those interested in delving deeper into Tantra.

Work Cited:

Kempton, Sally. Awakening Shakti: The Transformative Power of the Goddesses of Yoga. Sounds True, 2013.

I met Max Strom at the Midwest Yoga Conference back in 2011. He has a presence that is very grounding yet light hearted at the same time. In this particular pranayama workshop, I discovered new ways of breathing. I distinctly recall his guiding us through bahih and antah kumbhaka pranayama, and I was amazed with how air compresses in the lungs. After the workshop, I had gained a renewed sense of awareness.

Strom’s book, A Life Worth Breathing: A Yoga Master’s Handbook of Strength, Grace, and Healing is very thorough and details how mindful breathing, along with the physical practice of yoga and meditation, can elevate our awareness. He begins by drawing the reader’s attention to the power of intention, “May we be a breath of life to the body of humankind” (28) thus eliminating the existence of duality and reminding the reader that we are not separate entities but part of a greater whole. He then warns against the ego-mind as being a “prisoner of itself” that is rooted in fear that reacts rather than acts to the unknown and aversions (29-30). However, through humility, “[t]his “not knowing” allows space for true knowing” – “the higher function of the heart within the heart” (36). Using the analogy of a magnifying glass, it is the power of self-discipline that magnifies and burns away obstacles and leads to personal transformation (36-37).

Strom then details the three pillars: Mind, Emotions, and Body. As if awakening from a dream, breath work is like turning on a light from the dark recesses of our inner being (47). When synced with movement, one is able to slow down the thoughts and to dissolve the ego-mind. To feel the energy within opens one’s heart and feelings of immense love, thus illuminating the darkness within (48). The same holds true with meditation which leads one to “remember and have access to wisdom long buried” as the chatter of the mind quiets and the heart opens (52). Pranayama practice also serves to “harmonize” the somatic, autonomic, and sympathetic nervous systems (53-54).

The second pillar, Emotions, Strom reminds the reader that “while circumstances are often beyond our control, our emotions are our own. The practice of choosing your state of mind is the beginning of happiness.” (60). In fact, one’s reactions are a reflection of one’s own emotions, particularly with regards to the feelings of intolerance and anger (68). Strom’s words “ When we grant mercy to others, we grant mercy to ourselves.” (75) in particular resonated with me; having forgiven my abuser, I was more at peace and able to move on from adolescence into adulthood; I was also able to find gratitude knowing that I was on the other side of the darkness and in those times of turmoil, I discovered my inner strength and courage. Indeed, gratitude is the parent of all virtues: 

Within your gratitude is one of your greatest powers, for only when you find gratitude do you begin to be liberated. Gratitude humbles you, and the humility enables you to forgive. Forgiveness gives birth to sympathy and love itself, and in love we are liberated . . . let us remember our most profound gratitude, and forgive those who have forgotten theirs.”

(Strom, 84)

With regards to the third Pillar, the Body, residuals of my developmental trauma and losses are still evident in my physical practice, “opening the chest is the hardest part of one’s yoga practice because it is in the chest that we keep our grief and our old memories” (106). I recognize these residuals and offer them love and compassion without any judgment. I release it even if it’s only for that breath, for each subsequent release becomes a little easier. This is the part of the practice that extends beyond my yoga mat; I find myself doing the same inner practice throughout my day. As a result, I have become “more at ease, storing less negative anxiety and tension” (123). I’ve also noted that calmer people and places resonate with me, thus indicating a more harmonized nervous system (125).

Strom then outlines where we hold emotions in the body as well as the asanas that will address those areas, followed by advice on how to get started. The complete integration of the pillars is through the breath, “[t]he highest Self sets your intention through the mind. The breath transmits your intention into every cell of your body.” (148). He then suggests a code of conduct, referred to as the “Five Causes” to practice: gratitude, forgiveness, kindness and honesty, humility, and ethics (154-155). He concludes with principles of action that remind the reader of how one’s self-awareness also affects one’s external-awareness by addressing conscience, awareness of time, competition and power, money, and activism without anger. Indeed, “Nearly all of the world’s external problems are symptoms of internal problems, inside of you and me.” (191). Now more than ever, “we need to take our principles of living beyond ourselves to help others on their path, whether individually or collective.”

Work Cited:
Strom, Max. A Life Worth Breathing: A Yoga Master’s Handbook of Strength, Grace, and Healing. Skyhorse, 2012.

Ram Dass’ Polishing the Mirror: How to Live from your Spiritual Heart is a personal narrative and instruction manual for those interested in deepening their practice on a spiritual level. Through the use of personal narrative, Dass uses a combination of insight, humor, stories, and guidance from his own practices to illuminate a deeper level of consciousness: “The spiritual journey is not about acquiring something outside of yourself. Rather, you are penetrating the layers and veils to return to the deepest truth of your own being.” (6). By sharing his own journey of “polishing the mirror”, he reveals how  one’s authentic being is deeply seated within one’s heart: “Consciousness itself is a hall of mirrors. The key quality of the human soul is the ability to reflect on its own existence. Self-reflection, introspection, self-inquiry – whatever we call it – takes us through many layers of the onions of our inner being, . . . “ (170).

According to Dass, “Bhakti is the path of the spiritual heart, using our human emotions to forge the connection between the human and the divine.” (13). He also emphasizes love is a state of being: “. . . love isn’t possessive. We can’t collect it. We can only become it” (16), and these teachings can be found anywhere, “You don’t have to rush off to India, because the guru and the teaching are always right where you are, right here, right now.” (20). It is a process that requires our faith to reveal “the impurities and imperfections of our individuality that keep us from becoming one” (22). Additionally, karma is our dharma, “As a conscious being, you do all you can to live in your soul and to create space for others to be in their soul too.” (34). This requires our bearing witness as a neutral observer to our own attachments. According to Dass, “everything we notice in the universe is a reflection of our attachments.” (36). Thus, “living a spiritual life is a strategy for working on yourself for the benefit of all beings.” (44). This witnessing of our feelings and emotions allows us to simply observe, acknowledge, permit it to be, so we can eventually release them. In turn, “you also become a mirror for others to find their souls.” (119).

The account of “hanging out with blue Krishna and driving [slowly] along the New York Thruway” in a black limousine converted into a camper was hilarious.  The image of Dass with one hand on the wheel and mala beads in the other while singing to Krishna had to have been a sight to the state trooper who eventually pulled him over. The inner monologue of Dass, “Wouldn’t Krishna come as a state trooper? Christ came as a carpenter” makes one consider the possibility of the divine in all living beings (57).

Dass continues his narrative reflecting on the aging and dealing with change, “Old age trains you for change – change in your body, change in memory, chance in your relationships, change in energy, chance in your family and social role – all leading to death” (65). I, myself, have noticed these gradual changes with each passing year. Now at the age of 51, my priorities have changed, my circle of friends has grown smaller, and I am more committed to my yoga practice on and off my mat. Maybe I have become “irrelevant” for some, but it has given me more time to do inner work and to shift from “doing” to “being” (73).

His chapters dealing with death and dying really resonated with me. I am no stranger to hospitals, acute care facilities, and nursing homes. I have even assisted in hospice care for quite a few friends and relatives. As Dass recounts, I, too, have witnessed the “deception” given to those who are dying and to the caretakers as a means of easing the fear, guilt, pain and suffering (85). Personally, I was honored to be present for the transition of an uncle, my husband’s grandfather, my father, my mother, and my beloved felines, Smokey and Bandit. It is the ultimate offering one can give by being present and giving permission to let go; it is the “most exquisite manifestation of service” (89).

Dass’ description of dying reminded me of a collection of poems written by Emily Dickenson that explored death and dying. One in particular explores the senses and how they become confused and blended (synesthesia): 

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –
Between the Heaves of Storm –

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room –

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away
What portion of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly –

With Blue – uncertain – stumbling Buzz –
Between the light – and me –
And then the Windows failed – and then
I could not see to see –

The last stanza reveals the synesthesia of the senses: “blue” being a color that is seen; “stumbling” being a sensation that is felt; “buzz” being a sound that is heard. Dass’s description of dying reveals a process associated with the elements: “As the earth element leaves, your body will feel heavy. As the water element leaves, you will feel dryness. As the fire element leaves, you may feel cold. As the air element leaves, your out-breath will be longer than your in-breath. The signs are now here. Don’t get lost in the details. Let your awareness go free.” (91).

With death comes suffering. Recounting the 4-Noble Truths of Buddhism, Dass emphasizes that attachments are the “clinging of mind – to attractions and aversions” that create a false sense of the self.  To demonstrate how suffering can be eased, Dass uses his suffering from a stroke as an example: “identify with being a witness of pain. Physical pain is in the body, and I am not my body.” (102). By shifting our perspective about suffering, it can be viewed as a “fire that purifies” or possibly “the teaching you need in the moment.” (108). It is through these experiences that we can become compassion: “You don’t have compassion – you are compassion. True compassion goes beyond empathy to being with the experience of another.” (109). 

Despite the passing of various loved ones, the one that hit me the most was the passing of my dearly beloved father. He was the epitome of unconditional love and compassion. Throughout my life, he was always there for me; he encouraged me in ways that my mother did not; he loved me in ways that my mother was unable to. What made his passing particularly difficult was the fact that my son, then 2 years of age, would grow up without truly knowing him.  As a means to cope with his passing, I came across a Sushila Blackman’s book titled Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die; reading through this compilation of death stories from Hindu, Tibetan, Buddhist, and Zen masters, I found some reassurance and solace in the loss. After reading this particular chapter in Polishing the Mirror, I was reminded of Ramana Maharshi from our visit to the Sri Ramanasramam in Thiruvannamalai, India; I consulted Graceful Exits to find an account of his passing: 

The end came on April 14, 1950. That evening the sage gave darshan to all the devotees in the ashram. They sat singing Ramana’s hymn to Arunacala, the name of the holy mountain the sage so loved. He asked his attendants to help him sit up, and opened his luminous and gracious eyes for a brief while. There was a smile, a tear of bliss trickled down from the outer corner of one of his eyes, and at 8:47 pm his breathing stopped. There was no struggle, no spasm, none of the signs of death. At that very moment, a comet moved slowly across the sky, passed over the summit of the holy hill, Arunacala, and disappeared behind it.

(Blackman, 56).

Indeed, Sri Ramanasramam demonstrated supreme compassion not only towards others, but especially towards himself. In his own words, “There is no need for alarm. The body is itself a disease. Let it have its natural way.” 

Dass concludes his narrative with various forms in which to “polish one’s own mirror” through practicing daily mediation, honoring silence, expressing gratitude, participating in Kirtan, recognizing realized beings, and listening to one’s intuition.

Works Cited:

Blackman, Sushila. Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die. Shambala, 2005.

Dass, Ram. Polishing the Mirror: How to Live from Your Spiritual Heart. Sounds True, 2014.

Dickinson, Emily. “I heard a Fly buss – when I died -” (591). Poetry Foundation.

Gabrielle Harris’s The Inspired Yoga Teacher: The essential guide to creating transformational classes your students will love is quite the toolbox! Much of the information is reminiscent of all the training I have completed with Janet. The book is organized by beginning (soul-full starts, setting foundations, and starting shapes), meaningful middles, and divine endings. Of all the yoga-related texts I have read over the years, this book is a comprehensive incorporation of the 5-elements, chakras, prana vayus, deities, yamas, and niyamas. Each section begins with “To the Mind” (breakdown of the Sanskrit, benefits, related language and themes), “To the Heart” (dharma, science, application to everyday life, analogies, etc.), “To the Body” (asana with cues and variations), and “Teaching Notes”.

I was particularly impressed that Danda Pranam (Full Prostration) was included as I did not learn about it until my training with Janet. Under the “To the Body” is the script titled “Honour”:

Another concept that was further elaborated on that many other texts do not mention are the Prana Vayus. Harris notes where each vayu is seated, what it governs, how it moves, the corresponding chakra and element, as well as symptoms of imbalance. She then elaborates on incorporating the vayus in practice: asana, breath, mudra, and bandha. This section helped to further solidify Janet’s teachings.

The “Flow with the Deities” section includes Hanuman, Kali, Shiva, Arjuna. As with the other sections, each begins with “To the Mind” translating the deity’s name, a brief discussion on lineage and iconography, as well as the pose associated with the deity. “To the Heart” offers the story associated with the deity’s revered characteristics and mantra. “To the Body” begins with detailed pranayama practice, followed by asana sequence(s) and related cueing leading to the peak pose. The “Teaching Notes” offer additional guidance followed by “To Your Life” in how to manifest the deity in our everyday life.

The “Sutra Stitches” elaborates on the Yoga Sutras, particularly providing detailed guidance for each of the yamas and niyamas. Similar to the previous sections, each is tailored for the particular yama/niyama. For example, the section on “Tapas” includes a Home Practice for the morning and evening; Svdhyaya includes a Self-Myofascial Release.

Overall, I am impressed with this text. It is well-laid out, thought-out, and insightful. As someone who appreciates organization and concision, this text is perfect for me. While all of my training notes are housed in a 4″ binder, color-coded, labeled, and organized by training, this comprehensive toolkit will prove to be an invaluable supplment to my It also allows me to refresh my memory when planning classes.

Work Cited:

Harris, Gabrielle. Inspired Yoga Teacher: The Essential Guide to Creating Transformational Classes your Students will Love. Luminary Press: Coppell, 2021.

Nicolai Bachman’s The Path of the Yoga Sutras: a practical guide to the core of yoga, is a very comprehensive text that provides very accessible means to understanding Pantanjali’s Yoga Sutras. Divided into five consecutive sections: Key Principles, Understanding Suffering, Outer Behavior, Personal Practices, and Inner Development, the author presents the key philosophical concepts of not only the ancient text, but also reveals the foundation necessary for an authentic yoga for the modern practitioner. The text is organized to build upon the former to create a very comprehensive text. 

Each chapter covers a key concept, along with a relevant quote, analysis, thoughts and exercises for the practitioner. The author applies the principle to various modern examples and experiences, thus making it more accessible to the reader. For example, in Chapter 31 titled “Asteya” Bachman states, “If we interrupt someone during a conversation, we steal their right to be heard.” (154). According to Bachman, “The philosophy of yoga so eloquently written in these sutra-s is truly universal and nonsectarian” thus making it a practice, or a path, for anyone regardless “of time, place, culture or religion” (xx, 253).

While Part I covers many of the key principles necessary in understanding the Yoga Sutras, Part II covers key terms that helps the reader to understand suffering, to include our misperceptions, afflictions, lack of awareness, and distorted sense of self – all of which can affect our outer as well as inner behaviors. Understanding the key principles in Parts I and II were necessary in helping to understand the subsequent sections arranged from outside of our self to our inner self. I truly appreciated the breakdown of the various principles – especially the elaboration of various sanskrit terms used throughout the reading and essential to understanding the Patanjali’s 8-Limbs.  As the subtitle of the text suggests, it is a very “practical guide” with a wealth of information that is “understandable to everyone and useful when applied to everyday living.” (253). For me, this will be a key text upon which I will return and reference often in my own practices.

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Work Cited:

Bachman, Nicolai. The Path of the Yoga Sutras: a practical guide to the core of yoga. Boulder: Sounds True, 2011.

Michael Stone’s text titled Yoga for a World out of Balance: Teachings on Ethics and Social Action addresses the need for action, particularly the need for mindfulness and restraint (yamas) in a world full of unrestrained. His application of the Yamas from Pantanjali’s Yoga Sutras is an effective way in which to bring about much needed change, particularly with regards to the “habit energies evident in our own psychological, physiological, cultural, and ancestral patterns” – our own “ahaṇkāra” (I-maker) which in turn contributes to our Karma (7, 50).

 

According to Michael Stone, “the present moment begins in silence” and “everything is crafted out of silence.” (7, 125). Even in my own practice, I like to begin in stillness and end in stillness – bringing the practice full-circle much like the “life-death cycle of the breath” (34). This stillness is also an opportunity to ““sit with what is arising from moment to moment with acceptance and patience, steadiness and ease” – to go to a deeper level to reflect on what was revealed, released, and/or transformed to “bring about a fundamental shift in perception” (92-3, 116, 127). It is here that one’s true “narrative” arises free of the presuppositions of the old narrative – through an intimate and interior awareness of one’s authentic self and one’s interconnectedness with everything – after all, “[t]here is a whole universe even within one breath cycle” (128-129, 137, 142, 168). Afterall, to “sit in the midst of opposition creates the heat necessary for change” and to embrace “the energy of the moment rather than with our storytelling” (11, 78). 

Much of our storytelling is rooted in our experiences, “Suffering is the foundation for happiness, anxiety the beginning of change. In fact, “[t]hat difficulty is also our potential for liberation.” (81). Indeed, through continued practice and attending various trainings, yoga became a “transformative” way of life for me. Beyond the postures, the practice is purely a “technique of moving the body into pure feeling and then dissolve the mind into that deep experience of feeling.” (11, 125). In fact, “the posture sequences open up different layers and movements of mind and body” (118). Throughout the asana practice, there are moments of “staying in the tension of opposites” as I will pause to notice “the patterns and disruptions of breath, the nervous system, the heart rate, the feeling tone” in the physical body – again noting my physical and emotional responses (77, 126, 138).

When I set aside my “ahaṇkāra” (the “I-maker” composition rooted in my traumatic experiences), I try not to focus on the end goal, but on the single, fleeting moment, and how I respond or react to each one physically and mentally – “it becomes a practice of finding within ourselves freedom from being caught in impermanent and limited situations.” (27, 99). Indeed, “the practice is to move beyond the story line and to stay, with acceptance, patience, and curiosity with the changing sensations that appear from moment to moment.” (139, 173). When we are able to “. . . cultivat[e] a kinder and more compassionate story to break down the tendency toward self-judgement,” we are better able to affect much needed change in the world around us (84).

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Work Cited:

Stone, Michael. Yoga for a World out of Balance: Teachings on Ethics and Social Action. Shambala: Boulder, 2009.

Michael Stone’s text titled Awake in the World: Teachings from Yoga and Buddhism for Living an Engaged Life is a powerful read on the correlations between Buddhism and Yoga: mindfulness, simplicity, equanimity, and interdependence. Divided in 5 sections, he gradually reveals ways in which to deepen one’s practice. In essence, one’s practice extends beyond one’s mat in order to dissolve dualities and perhaps, bring more balance into today’s world.

There very foundation of mindfulness is the need to be present. Stone states, “If we are open to all of this decisively and without pause, we encounter the world as a part of it. This generates trust and reinforces the truth of being part of a much greater whole.” (25). In other words, we need to see ourselves as interconnected with the world around us in the present moment in order to trust and truly see reality as it is. He continues to suggest the effects of our intentions on reality, “This is no dream, there is no gift to open or heaven to which we must one day ascend; when we arrive in present experience, we come to see that the long carpet of reality is already unrolled.” (25). The constant need to “achieve” hinders our ability to remain present.

In order to be present requires both external and internal practices, “[p]ractice awakens the dormant and often invisible interiors of mind, body, and heart in order to establish a more tender, responsive, creative, and active self.” (13).  The more one practices, the more it nurtures within us, it also radiates beyond us . . . beyond the four corners of our mat, beyond the four corners of the room as our “[i]nternal practices always flow back out into the world.” (58). It moves us not only toward self-acceptance and self-love, but accepting our part in a greater whole . . . as a part of the earth, not separate from it . . . interconnected (samādhi) (21, 25, 50, 89, 93). However, our practice must also address the dualities of effort and effortlessness, “[e]ffort must relax for intimacy to appear” (34). It becomes an opportunity to practice equanimity – “[e]quanimity (upeksā) is not a silent witnesses of our psychic lives but an opening toward what is.” (49).

One’s practice offers an opportunity of “seeing reality as a contingent and impermanent flow.” (108, 142).  Indeed, it becomes an opportunity to break the habitual pattern that they have developed for “[i]f the practices are to be vibrant and challenging, they must also interrupt the habits . . . .” (105). This experience also serves to build “a trust in the complexity of life” – to “live as the water and function as the wave.” (87, 128). Indeed, reality is constantly in flux and ever changing but our reactions must remain constant. 

In closing, Stone states,

“The point of ethical practice is that we are reaching out to listen rather than speak, to be touched rather than to touch, to be affected rather than to manipulate.” (146).

In order to do this, “[w]hen we are safe in our own bodies, we have a ground from which to step out into the world” – with practice, we are mentally prepared to step off of our mats and into the world (155).

 

Work Cited

Stone, Michael. Awake in the World: Teachings from Yoga and Buddhism for Living an Engaged Life. Shambala: Boston, 2011.

Girish’s Music and Mantras provides a detailed overview of the history, purpose, and effects of the use of music and mantra in yoga.  Broken down into three digestible sections of which Girish beautifully arranged and logically sequenced. The underlying tone and diction used convey a practice that only requires one to “be present – heart and soul” and judgement-free zone (xviii).  Girish not only acknowledges, but empathizes with how “singing is the rawest thing” a person can do as it “is a direct, living connection to the deepest parts of who we are.” (xviii, 3).

The first section “Mindful Singing” provides even the most novice practitioner with a guide on how to begin.  With details and various exercises to help one find his/her voice, lung capacity, etc., he also provides scientific information and health benefits associated with the act of singing.  The second section “Music and Mantras” encapsulates his own personal experience with music and his path to bhakti yoga which naturally leads him to a discussion on neuroplasticity and how singing affects the human brain, to include the healing qualities of the body.  He also introduces additional variations, such as mudras and breathwork, to enhance one’s mantra experience, as well as how they relate to the asana practice. He then outlines the three different modes of mantra practice and the three sounds of OM, which I definitely found helpful! He closes the section with advice and exercises to help one establish a regular practice. The final section “Songbook for the Soul” provides a rather thorough summary of each of the 5 main deities and the mantras associated with each of them to include the “translations” and brief mythology associated with each deity.

Overall, I greatly appreciated how Girish interspersed his own practices throughout the book adding to his “ethos” of authenticity and honesty.  This further enabled his giving the reader permission and encouragement towards self-acceptance more empowering. His reminder throughout the book also resonated with me: “all the Deities are simply expressions of Divine qualities already within you.” (159).  As stated, his arrangement and sequence of the items discussed were not only logical but extremely accessible for those who may be less experienced, but still provides pertinent details even for those with more experience.

Work Cited:

Girish. Music and Mantras: The Yoga of Mindful Singing for Health, Happiness, Peace, and Prosperity. New York: Atria, 2016.