Yoga and the Path of the Urban Mystic

by Darren Main

  I am no different from my students. I often find myself eating food that makes me feel heavy, or dating people I don’t find stimulating. I easily get distracted by work, Hollywood and the drama of current affairs. I forget to practice more often than I would like to admit.

  If I am not careful, I can easily fall into guilt and self-judgment, and my ego goes crazy, filling my head with thoughts like: “Who are you to be teaching yoga? You can’t even practice consistently yourself. Who are you to be giving talks on spirituality and writing books on how to live a more centered life? Your life is a mess!”

  Of course this serves nothing but my ego, which delights in my fits of guilt. Through my yoga practice, I have learned to stop those thoughts sooner and sooner. I find that when I do, I quietly return to my breath and then to my meditation cushion or my yoga mat. But as long as I stay in guilt and make up excuses for staying stuck, I find my diet continues to decline, my yoga practice gets weaker, and my mind dips deeper and deeper into the ego’s drama.

  The key to moving beyond the ego’s guilt-based perceptions is not through more guilt, but rather through letting go of guilt. As a modern yogi, the key to finding peace through yoga is to keep coming back to the practice. It doesn’t matter how often we get distracted by the ego, or for how long we play the ego’s game. The only thing that matters is that we return. Eventually the pain of living under the ego’s rule will wear down even the most stubborn person. I am living proof of this. Surrender is inevitable, but the road between guilt and surrender can be long and painful. Developing a solid spiritual practice is a detour around many of the potholes along the way.

  It is important to note that the ego is not bad; the ego is simply nothing. It is a poor investment of our time and energy, for everything the ego values will die and return to dust. This is as true of the things we see as temporary (such as the note of a musical instrument which rises and fades as quickly as it is played) as it is of the things we see as long lasting (such as mountains and oceans and stars). All of them will arise out of the nothingness and then, in time, dissolve into the emptiness from which they came. The ego attaches its value to form, which must change. The Atman simply is. It identifies only with the limitless and thus does not produce grief or suffering. When Jesus said, “No man can serve two masters,” he was conveying this same truth. As long as you obey the perceptions of your ego, you will not know peace, and as soon as you experience the Atman radiating from within, your suffering will become incomprehensible.

  The Search

  Like two golden birds perched on the selfsame tree, intimate friends, the ego and the Self dwell in the same body. The former eats the sweet and sour fruits of the tree of life while the other looks on in detachment.

  —Mundaka Upanishad III 2:1

  Our minds are literally split in half, with the eternal Self or Atman existing in a state of pure bliss and unity, and the ego self believing that we are completely separate and vulnerable. This is the cause of much mental anguish, which then leads to emotional and physical suffering, because our ego mind, which is what we identify with most often, feels the need to defend itself against the notion of the Atman. When you allow your mind to dwell in the infinite realm of Atman, the ego disappears into the nothingness that it is.

  On some level we know our true identities. We know the vastness and the incorruptibility of our true natures and, believing that we are egos, we grieve at that loss. Although this grief is largely unconscious, it motivates most of our actions and reactions in this world. On some level we know there is more to life, but finding out what it is seems so elusive. We have tricked ourselves into believing that this missing piece is something mysterious and difficult to attain, but really it is the most natural thing in the world.

  The desire to return to center and remember who we are is extremely strong; we feel an insatiable desire to search. And search we do. We look high and low; we look to family and friends, jobs, sex and drugs, and college degrees; we look for money, prestige and physical beauty. The ego allows us to search. In fact, the ego actively encourages us to seek. This searching is what defines the ego and is really its only line of defense against Self-realization. The ego’s whole defense system is centered upon having us search for fulfillment where it can’t be found. This temporarily satisfies our need to seek out home and simultaneously ensures we will not get there. And that is exactly why it is so important to cultivate a yoga or meditation practice that is not goal-oriented. Our spiritual practice is a time to retrain our minds to stop seeking for contentment in a new conquest or achievement. It is a time to pull the mind back from its constant searching and learn how to sit in the present moment. When we do this, we free the mind from the constant searching that causes us to forget our true identity as Atman.

  Last week, one of my newer students, Jose, was in class. His practice was very new, but it was obvious that he was ready to dive head first into yoga. He was the son of Mexican immigrants who had come to the United States to make a better life for themselves and their children. Jose was about four years old when he came to the States. Because he was quite poor growing up, he had vowed to become wealthy. He studied hard in both high school and college, and landed a great job in a San Francisco advertising agency. By the time he was thirty, he was earning a very sizable salary and had the proverbial corner office. Jose had achieved what his parents had always hoped for, and was living the standard American dream.

  All was not well, however. His body was always in pain, and he suffered from migraine headaches. His fiancée had left him because he spent far more time at work than he did with her. He was miserable. His doctor couldn’t find anything wrong and recommended that he try yoga.

  Yoga worked like a charm. His headaches went away almost overnight and the tight knots in his back, neck and shoulders began to loosen. During one class, however, something else began to let go. As I led the class into a final meditation, I couldn’t help but notice his smile. It was so bright I had to smile myself. After class I asked him how he was doing, and he gave me a big hug. “I haven’t felt like I did during this class since I was a little boy,” he said. “For as long as I can remember, I have been rushing from one thing to the next. I guess I always thought that I would find peace when I had more money, but the more money I have made, the less happy I have become. When I was poor and living with my parents, I was at peace. Until I found yoga, I couldn’t sleep at night from the stress. This yoga stuff is amazing.”

  According to the sacred texts, Jose is not alone. Our pain is caused by the constant searching for that peg that will fill the perceived hole in our being. This is our core problem and the cause of all our suffering. It is not the food, money, sex, or power that makes us unhappy—nor will the denial of these things ease our suffering—only the recognition of our wholeness can make us feel whole.

  About a year ago I was sitting on the beach feeling quite tranquil. When it came time to go, I gathered my things and put them in my backpack. I then realized that I could not find my sunglasses. I unpacked my bag several times, dug through the sand, and considered accusing the man next to me of stealing them. All the peace I had cultivated while on the beach that day was gone by the time I realized they were sitting on top of my head.

  This is very reminiscent of our spiritual quest. We keep trying to find what we think we have lost, all the time losing our peace of mind and our sanity as we search. Ultimately, what we were looking for was never lost at all.

  This searching is the bitter and ironic twist in the biography of our lives. We spend our lives looking and searching in every conceivable corner of the world for that one thing (or group of things) that will bring us the fulfillment we desire above all else, only to find that it is glowing deep within. It is the very act of searching that makes us lose ourselves. It is the very belief in deprivation that makes us feel deprived. It is the very act of trying to succeed that guarantees our failure, because even when we do get what we think we want, we realize we are still unh
appy, and the search begins all over again. When we stand in the center of joy, searching for joy means seeking elsewhere, which thus makes our lives feel joyless.

  In other words, when we stop our searching and quiet our mind, we will feel complete. It is the search itself that makes us feel lost and incomplete. When we step onto the yoga mat or sit on the meditation cushion, we suspend that search and begin to realize how pointless it was in the first place.

  There is no fetter like illusion, no force greater than yoga, no friend greater than knowledge and no enemy greater than ego.

  —Gheranda Samhita 1:4

  Chapter Two

  The Illusion of Maya

  Just as from studying the alphabet one may understand the scriptural teachings, so by practicing yoga, one may obtain knowledge of the Ultimate Reality.

  —Gheranda Samhita 1:5

  Maya: Illusion

  Conscious spirit and unconscious matter both have existed since the dawn of time, with Maya appearing to connect them, misrepresenting joy as outside us.

  —Shventashvatra Upanishad I:9

  When I began my practice I was astounded at its effect in my life. Not only was my body beginning to feel better, but also my heart was filled with compassion, and my mind was at peace more often than I had ever thought possible. However, there was one concept in yoga that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end: that was Maya.

  Maya is the idea that our entire physical universe is an illusion. A figment of our collective and individual imaginations. According to sacred texts, the belief that the physical is real denies us the ability to experience our greatest potential. When I first heard this, I laughed. It seemed so absurd. It seems so evident that the physical universe is real; one can touch it and see it and smell it; it can be measured and studied and observed. Yet the great yoga masters have been very clear on this point and have held the concept of Maya to be one of their greatest truths. The world of form and change is nothing more than an illusion—a fantasy of our collective imagination—a veil that has been placed before our eyes to allow each of us to keep up the illusions of our individual egos.

  While the sages of India may have been among the first to realize the illusion of Maya that is our physical universe, many since then have identified this same illusion. To a certain extent even modern physics has begun to identify Maya. Albert Einstein, the father of modern physics, and in my opinion one of the great mystics of our modern era, said:

  “A human being is part of the whole called by us a universe—a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and his feelings as something separate from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness.

  This delusion is a kind of prison for us; it restricts us to our personal decision and our affections to a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” [7]

  It is important that we look at Maya squarely, for we will never feel freedom until we start to remove this veil from our eyes. Believing in Maya is the cause of all suffering, because it perpetuates the belief in separation that fuels our egos and keeps us in bondage.

  Maya is the spiritual equivalent of a pyramid scam that saps our resources and prevents us from making wise investments with our spiritual ‘capital’. Until we withdraw our investments in Maya, we will never be able to find the peace we so deeply desire; to invest in Maya is to believe that we are small

  Maya is another one of those basic principles that make up the foundation of yoga. As long as we believe Maya to be our ultimate reality, we are going to suffer. The reason for this is profoundly simple: everything in Maya changes. Change is the characteristic that defines Maya, so all things within it must take form and then pass back to dust, only to take a new form. Mountains will become valleys, and oceans will become deserts. It is the nature of Maya.

  Maya is made up of our individual and collective judgments. In a sense it is like a computer generated virtual reality. The computer uses a series of ones and zeros to create the illusion. Our minds use positive and negative judgments to construct the world we see outside. Yoga helps us to pierce through the illusion of Maya by helping us to see the formlessness that lies behind the illusion. It is this illusion that makes up our time and space reality. Things seem to be solid and real. There are laws that seem to govern this reality, such as gravity, relativity, or thermodynamics, and it all seems to make so much sense—at least from where we stand. But when you really look at our physical reality from a spiritual point of view, there are a great number of things that just don’t add up.

  In the early years, as I began to explore my yoga practice more fully, I would go to hear great masters speak. I would read and consume books on yoga. I loved the practice and the philosophy, but I could feel anger coursing through me each time the subject of Maya came up. It rocked the very foundation on which my whole world was built.

  At that time I was also exploring some of the earth-based spiritualities, such as Wicca and Native American Spirituality. These systems seemed not only to maintain the reality of the physical universe, they saw the Earth and nature as a direct means through which to realize spiritual truth. It seemed I would be unable to reconcile these two parts of my spiritual life. I did my best to ignore the concept of Maya altogether, and when it did come up, I would tune it out or channel my anger and frustration into the least destructive outlet I could find.

  This went on for several years, until I found myself on retreat at the Kripalu Center. During one of the workshops we were exploring the second stage of Kripalu yoga. This style of yoga is characterized by holding various poses for long periods. It is quite intense and frequently results in a deep emotional release. One of the exercises we did involved holding vrikshasana, the tree pose. We were led out of the main building and down a green grassy slope to sizable pine grove. We were instructed to find a tree to face and then assume the tree pose. We were to hold each side until we heard a chime. Five minutes went by, and still no chime. My legs and arms began to shake and tremble. Another few minutes went by and my mental judgment rose to a fever pitch. Finally the chime rang and I was able to switch sides. At times I thought I might cry or laugh, but I stuck it out. I kept trying to quiet my mind and surrender into the pose.

  All at once, my mind seemed to stop. I noticed the tree in front of me in a new way. It was pulsing with energy. The colors were brilliant. I felt as if I was seeing a tree for the first time. I smiled and allowed myself to sink deeper. The pain and challenge of the pose was somewhere in the background. As I went deeper and deeper into the pose, the tree began to change form. It seemed to melt into its surroundings. There was no distinction between the tree and the grove or between the tree and the earth that sustained it. Then I felt my body changing and becoming one with the tree. I could feel my roots reaching deep into the earth, and my branches reaching high toward the sun. Being a tree felt every bit as natural as being a human. I was the same but my form had changed. The whole physical universe became fluid, and time and space lost all meaning for me. I knew in that moment that the tree was Spirit masquerading as a tree, and I was Spirit disguised as a human. I knew for the first time that there was only One that took shape in the many.

  As I heard the chime, I knew I needed to come back, but I didn’t want to. In those last few breaths I understood Maya. I fell to the ground in child pose and could feel the pulse of the earth. I was no longer conflicted by my earth-based spirituality or even my worldview. Maya actually validated these beliefs and enhanced my experience in this physical world.

  What happened to me was a brief glimpse of what lies behind the veil of Maya. Our egos have us convinced that we are physical and that our physical experience is what defines us. This couldn’t be more wrong. I am no more a human body than that tree, which seemed so solid, was really a tree. Spirit exists within all things, and takes many forms on the canvas of May
a. Sometimes Spirit takes the form of a tree or a rock or a planet—other times as a human or an animal. It’s as if God is playing hide-and-seek with Herself; when we peek behind the veil of Maya, we see that beautiful Divine light hiding there. Once we do this, we can enjoy the world with new eyes. We can detach from the physical and really begin to enjoy it. The physical universe is like a great piece of artwork created by Spirit. When we confuse it with something it is not, it becomes the weapon of the ego. The Mona Lisa is a great a piece of art, but you would view it as a weapon if you were hit over the head with it. Likewise, understanding Maya doesn’t make the physical a bad thing. It allows us to step back and appreciate its beauty without having it blind us to our true nature as the eternal Atman.

  Lila: The Divine Play

  He resides in the city with nine gates which is the body. He moves in the world enjoying the play of his countless forms. He is the master of the universe, of animate and inanimate.

  —Shevetashvatara Upanishad 3:18

  This illusion we live in is not bad per se. It is only a problem when we confuse it with our ultimate reality. It can be used quite effectively for our joy, our entertainment and our learning, but it is not real and can never be made real. Learning to use the illusion to our advantage is very important; otherwise the ego will use its smoke and mirrors to further delude the seeker. In yoga there is a concept called lila or “The Divine Play.” Traditionally this play was seen as a dance between the Hindu god Shiva and his consort Shakti, but I find it helpful to view it in more human terms. By understanding this concept we can create more fulfilling lives here in the physical universe, while at the same time moving closer and closer to Self-realization.