Steadiness

"However the seed is planted, in that way the fruit is gathered" is a Buddhist saying which seems particularly pertinent to this week's theme of being steady in our practice. It's not about balance but about showing up consistently into some form of our practice. It's during challenging times, such as this global pandemic, that we are seeing what fruit we are harvesting based upon choices we've previously made. What have you been digging into your soil? Is it ripe and juicy or heading for the compost bin?

So many of us come to yoga initially through the doorway of the physical practice. When we move into different postures, we get immediate feedback as to what is happening. I'm tight, flexible, have amazing/awful balance, experience pain, feel I'm getting stronger, etc. Instant gratification in the practice sends a message that whatever we're doing in the present moment must be doing something and perhaps even "working"! And over time, we often see our pain decrease, our mobility improves, and our stability gain strength.

Results we don't see as quickly are the elements that are more subtle...the practices of meditation, mindfulness, solitude, stillness, deep relaxation and quiet can have an elusive feel of "is this doing anything?" I had many false starts in my meditation practice because I didn't fully understand how much it would enhance my life as the end goal wasn't apparent. Well, let me share something with you...there is no end goal. Only the present moment, which happens to ripple out into our future moments.

One of the most profound lessons I had in establishing a long-term daily meditation practice happened in July 2006, when I was studying yoga therapy. We had two separate two-week blocks of intensive study, separated by five weeks. Toward the end of the first two weeks, I sat with a meditation teacher who gave me a practice for the time of our break...30-minutes of daily meditation. I had all sorts of reasons as to why that would be nearly impossible for me to do and unconsciously tried to negotiate my way to a different deal. I would have to get up earlier than I already did and that was already pretty early.  I wouldn't be able to remember the mantra. 30-minutes seemed like a long time, could I do less?

Wanting to be a good yoga student, I left the training, and each day for the next five weeks, I got up earlier, sat in meditation, and practiced my mantra. As I returned to the facility and was setting up my tent (my sacred home for the next two weeks), I saw my meditation teacher and just about sprinted up to her saying, "I did it! I've meditated every day since I've seen you!" Her response as she dryly looked at me was, "okay". 

What?! That's it? No pat on the back? No words of "You're amazing, what a fantastic yoga student you have become!". No public acknowledgment of my efforts. No golden certificate of accomplishment? It was a major light bulb moment. The practice wasn't for anything but me. No ego. No glory. And perhaps a smidge of ego wants to share with you is that I haven't missed one day of meditation since that time. Not one. No matter where I am in the world, my daily sitting has seeped into my being so deeply that it is part of who I am. It's as though not doing my daily practice would feel like leaving the house without brushing my teeth.

If I were to name a benefit of the steadiness of the practice is that I don't fall apart when things get challenging. It doesn't mean times aren't hard, but my reaction to the stressful times doesn't tear me apart. I'm able to better surf the waves of uncertainty and I notice it particularly now. My practice has a sweetness to it that I hadn't noticed before. It's one part of my life that hasn't been impacted by the global pandemic. It's that part of me that is "normal".

The teaching this week is about digging into our yoga soil on a daily basis by undertaking some aspect of our practice whether it be rockin' a challenging vinyasa practice, taking three mindful breaths, or just laying down on the mat and not doing anything. The support and impact of our practice may not be noticeable and obvious, yet we glimpse it in moments when we're looking for solace and grace.

Perhaps this is the time to deepen the quality of your practice and welcome, honor, and acknowledge the beautiful gift of consistency. And perhaps this is the time to find gratitude to the steps you have been taking to enrich self-care and self-love, to honor our teachers who have shown the way, and to remember that we are all part of a great and powerful lineage of practitioners of this life-affirming art. The art of our individual practice brought forth throughout the millennia.