by Darren Main
The problem with puppy love and romantic relationships in general, is that they are built on shabby spiritual foundations. Most people hope to find that perfect mate to make life complete. They believe that finding this seemingly perfect partner will result in living happily ever after, and that is simply not the case. After the honeymoon the work begins, and without a regular spiritual practice of some sort, there will be a rocky road.
Disney and the Grimm brothers were smart to end their stories with the Prince and the Princess riding off into the sunset. This ensures that all the endings are happy. After the sunset comes the work, and if you don’t have your spiritual roots firmly established, that happy ending could quickly turn into a Greek tragedy.
Part of the problem starts before two people even meet. Most people are looking for a partner who will complete them. Their egos design the perfect mate, who will become an emotional caulking gun to seal up a cold and drafty heart. They then go looking for a mate on whom they can project these ego creations. There are two reasons why this can never work. First, seeking wholeness outside can only prevent you from finding it within. And second, no one can fit your ego’s ideals all the time. Even if you find the seemingly perfect mate, you will ultimately grow to resent that person for not filling the void and meeting all of your ego expectations.
A more spiritually sound approach to a romantic relationship would be to find wholeness within first, and to become completely content with being alone. Once that foundation is in place you may find a person with whom to share part of your life. The key is to become Mr. or Ms. Right yourself, rather than trying to find that person outside you.
I don’t know whether Rudy and his boyfriend will continue to be happy together. In the short term they are very full of love. My hope for them is that they may sustain that love by developing a spiritual practice together that will keep their young love fresh and new. When you consider the depth and beauty of the human soul, it is amazing that people grow bored and tired with each other, but when a relationship is not spiritually grounded it will be impossible to sustain a loving and ever-changing relationship.
Sadhana Partners
Perhaps the most unique addition to intimate relationships that yoga offers is what I call the sadhana partnership. As we noted in the last chapter, sadhana means “spiritual practice.” For those of us who choose to have yoga be our sadhana, this usually includes poses, breathing, and meditation techniques. Of course each person is different and their individual needs and tastes can help to create a unique sadhana.
Having a daily spiritual practice is an important part of living a centered life, but it can be very easy to get distracted by life in the urban world. That is why it is very helpful to find some sort of support. Many people find this support in the context of a yoga class, or by getting more involved with a local yoga studio. Others find it helpful to go to class with to a friend. These are all ways of cultivating sadhana partners.
When I was still in college studying social work, I met a man named Michael. I was working in a coffeehouse at the time, and he would come in each day to buy the darkest roast coffee we had brewing. He always wore a nice suit, and his hairstyle was very short and clean-cut. We would often talk when he came in, and although we were very different people, there was an instant rapport that developed between us. On one of his visits to the coffeehouse, I shared with him that I had just been on a weekend yoga retreat, and this intrigued him. He asked me many questions that day about yoga and meditation, and I offered to teach him some basic yoga poses and meditation techniques.
That was the beginning of my closest friendship in this life. Michael was my first sadhana partner. Eventually Michael and I became roommates, which raised the eyebrows of my friends as well as his. No one knew exactly what to do with this seemingly mismatched living situation we had created. We were like the nineties version of the classic TV series the Odd Couple. He would iron everything, and I would barely take the time to fold my clothes and put them away. I had long hair and preferred to walk around barefoot as often as possible; Michael kept his hair closely cropped and always dressed like he was going for the most important job interview of his life. While I spent my days slinging coffee for the artsy East Side of Providence, Michael spent his days working in hotel sales.
The fact that we lived together with relatively few conflicts was nothing short of a miracle, and both of us attribute it to the one thing that we both shared. Each morning we would get up early to practice yoga and meditate together. Although we were both very different, we were both committed to the practice and this made our morning sadhana very magical. Some mornings Michael would lead the practice—other mornings I would lead. Occasionally we would do our own individual practice in silence.
Michael and I refer to that time in our lives as ‘Hillside Av.’, after the street our apartment was on. There is not much more that can be said because the experience changed us both in such indescribable ways. In fact, I grew more during the time that Michael and I lived and practiced together than in any time in my life.
What happened for Michael and me can happen with any two people, or even a group of people. When we find a friend or group of friends that we can practice with, whether by going to a yoga class or by coming together for a less formal and impromptu practice, we transcend the limits of our individual wills, and oftentimes cultivate very intimate relationships. As we shall see in Part Two of this book, yoga works to heal the deepest levels of the mind, and sharing that practice with others is incredibly bonding. This is why so many romantic partners find that yoga brings their relationship to a new level.
Michael and I are currently neighbors in San Francisco. He still keeps his hair short and irons all his clothes. I still look and dress like a throwback from the sixties. But he is family to me now, and when life gets difficult, he is the first person I call, because he has seen me in my most vulnerable state. Our relationship goes way beyond most of my other relationships because he knows me in a way that few other people do.
The decision to work with another person can take many forms, and it is not a prerequisite for growth in the practice of yoga but it can be a major tool. I have found my sadhana partners to be more supportive in my practice than any block, strap or bolster ever could, because the real shifts that yoga inspires are internal ones. Having a friend or group of friends who support you in this process can make the difference between a spiritual life that is filled with struggle and one that flows smoothly.
Nemesis
The other day I turned on the news and was bombarded by coverage of the Timothy McVeigh execution. This type of emotionally charged event is a feeding frenzy for the media, and they took great pains to interview as many people as possible that were affected by the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City. As one might expect, a lot of the survivors and relatives of the victims were still in a great deal of pain. Their reactions ranged from rage to great grief, which is all very understandable. One woman’s statements stood out more than the others did, though. She had lost a loved one in the bombing and was invited to see the execution. She declined, saying that she had forgiven Timothy McVeigh for what he had done and had no desire to see him put to death.
What was most unique about this woman was not her words, but rather her peace. No doubt she still grieved, but she was not torn apart by emotion. She did not condone McVeigh’s actions or even suggest that he receive a lighter sentence. She had simply let go of the full-time job of hating him, and in doing that she found peace. Her peace was such a ray of light in that newscast, and I hope that other survivors saw it.
This woman is extraordinary. I don’t know that I have her capacity to forgive, but I do share her conviction that hating an enemy will not serve anything except perhaps to rob one’s peace of mind. There is a saying in Alcoholics Anonymous that goes, “Holding a resentment is like taking poison and hoping the other person dies.” Yoga would have us refrain from taking that poison.
Having a
nemesis is one of the ego’s favorite ways of propagating the illusion of separation. Whenever we see a person as the enemy, we are choosing not to see the Atman in them; and when we deny it in them, we deny it in ourselves. This makes for a very difficult situation, because hate is much easier than love, and violence is much more stimulating than peace. A quick look at the TV guide will demonstrate what sells. Programs with violence and backstabbing get the ratings.
I do not envy the people who were affected by Timothy McVeigh’s actions. They have a very difficult practice in front of them. Forgiving McVeigh may seem like a sellout and a sign of weakness because of the magnitude of his crime, but holding onto bitterness toward him would be to accept that violence into their own hearts.
There is a story about the Buddha that demonstrates this idea quite well. It concerns a wealthy merchant who had two sons. The younger of the two sons heard the Buddha speak and was so inspired by his kindness and wisdom that he decided to leave his father’s home and follow the Master. This enraged the father who viewed the Buddha as a religious fanatic, so he sent his older son to go after his brother and bring him home. When the son finally caught up with his younger brother, he tried to bring him home, but his brother would not hear of it. Finally, the younger brother convinced him to hear the master speak once, and if he did not approve of his decision, he would go home without a fight. The older brother agreed to these terms, but when he heard the Buddha speak, he too was so moved that he renounced his life and followed with his brother. Naturally the father was furious, and he decided to take matters into his own hands. He sought out the Buddha to give him a piece of his mind.
When he finally found the great teacher, he shook his fists and yelled with rage, “Who do you think you are? You have stolen my two sons from me. I have no one to take over the family business and no one to care for me in my old age. How dare you call yourself a spiritual teacher!” The Buddha looked calmly at him; his eyes filled with compassion and he said, “If a man offers you a gift and you refuse it, what becomes of the gift?” The father was confused, as this was not how he had expected their conversation to go. Still, he answered, “The gift would remain with the person who was trying to give it.”
“That is correct,” replied the Buddha, “I do not accept your gift of anger, but if you choose, I will show you the way to let it go and find peace.” The man surrendered and became a follower of the Buddha that very day.
This is how we turn our relationships with our enemies into a yoga practice. By not accepting the gift of anger, fear and attack, we stop the spread of violence. By demonstrating peace, we offer an alternative to living in rage.
Judy and Dennis Shepard are excellent examples of this. Their son, Matthew Shepard, was beaten and left to die on a rural road in Wyoming because he was gay. Judy and Dennis have gone out of their way to make sure that his killers are treated fairly and they oppose the death penalty. [You can read the Shepard’s official statement to the court at www.matthewsplace.com] Rather than turn their pain and grief into an excuse to become bitter and depressed, they have used them to fuel their campaign for equal rights for the queer community. [Although the word queer is used by many in a derogatory way, I use it to include all people in the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered community. I believe it is a word that must be taken back from the less educated and the ignorant.]
Their example is something that I use as a model for how we can all use our so-called negative relationships as a powerful spiritual practice, and an intimate part of our lives as modern yogis.
Part Two
Be fearless and pure; never waver in your determination or your dedication to the spiritual life. Give freely. Be self-controlled, sincere, truthful, loving, and full of the desire to serve. Realize the truth of the scriptures; learn to be detached and to take joy in renunciation. Do not get angry or harm any living creature, but be compassionate and gentle; show good will to all. Cultivate vigor, patience, will, purity; avoid malice and pride. Then, Arjuna, you will achieve your divine destiny.
—The Bhagavad Gita 16:1-3
Chapter Five
Yama • The Moral Restraints
Yoga perishes by these six: overeating, overexertion, talking too much, performing needless austerities, socializing and restlessness.
—Hatha Yoga Pradipika 1:15
Morality
Those who violate these laws, criticizing and complaining, are utterly deluded. They are the cause of their own suffering.
—The Bhagavad Gita, 3:32
Yoga is a very practical practice. While its goals are lofty, it is a practice that starts where we are and builds on that foundation. Learning to live fully in the world provides a space in which we can cultivate our spiritual practice and delve deeper into the heart and soul of our being.
In the yogic tradition there are five moral principles known as the yamas or “restraints.” Collectively they make up the first of the eight limbs outlined by Patanjali in his Yoga Sutra. They are ahimsa (nonviolence), satya (truthfulness), asteya (nonstealing), brahmacarya (sexual moderation), and aparigraha (greedlessness).
In many ways they resemble the Ten Commandments laid out by Moses in the book of Exodus, but most modern practitioners of yoga implement them in a decidedly different fashion than the way most Jews and Christians observe the Ten Commandments.
Most moral codes, such as the Ten Commandments, are viewed in a very black and white way. For instance, lying is wrong. End of story. There is no room for discussion or growth on this principle. Either you are telling the truth or you are lying.
The five restraints of yoga on the other hand are not about moral law. They are part of a practice, and as such are always being perfected. From a yogic point of view, you never stop trying to deepen your understanding and your implementation of the five restraints. Instead, you continue to examine your thoughts, beliefs and actions to see how and where you can take each of these restraints to a more profound level.
In many ways this can be liberating because it allows us to let go of guilt. When things are too black and white, guilt and feelings of inadequacy are sure to follow, for very few of us can be completely nonviolent or completely honest all the time. Because we feel such guilt, we often rationalize our behavior in an effort to minimize these uncomfortable feelings, and this allows us to continue and may even encourage us to live on morally shaky ground.
When we start taking a more yogic approach to morality, it becomes a practice, and in each situation in which we find ourselves, we have the opportunity to look at our behavior and decide how we can make it align more fully with our goals as an urban mystic. There is no room for guilt here, but plenty of room for growth.
For example, if a man feels guilty for cheating on his spouse, he is likely to look for reasons why this behavior is not so bad. Perhaps he will project some of the blame onto his wife for her disinterest in sex. Or perhaps he will share some of his guilt with his lover for being so sexy. He may even project his guilt onto his male gender, saying, “Boys will be boys.”
Now if this same man were looking at his situation as a yogic practice, he would be able to look at the many ways he could deepen his understanding of Self. Rather than project the blame out, he can now take responsibility for his choices. The five yamas will offer him a standard on which to base his life and his actions, creating an opportunity to modify his behavior while simultaneously creating more space in his life for spiritual exploration. He can be more honest with himself, his wife and his lover, and he can begin to make choices that will be less hurtful to himself and others.
The important thing is that there is a choice. Because of the guilt imposed by strict moral codes, we project responsibility outward. Once we begin to let go of guilt and rigidity, we can again stand in our power to choose. Rather than feeling like a victim of the world, we can own our lives and our choices, and when a certain behavior is not working, we can choose differently.
This conscious decision-making with regard to
our behavior is how we practice the moral restraints of yoga. By simply asking ourselves over and over again how we can be less violent or more honest, we begin to make changes and our lives begin to run more smoothly.
Karma
Those who live in accordance with these divine laws without complaining, firmly established and safe, are released from karma.
—The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 3:32
Karma is one of those over-used buzz words that make many people cringe, but when it is properly understood, it can help us to make wise and informed choices in the world. Understanding this basic law is fundamental to working with the yamas if we are to use them in a way that is liberating rather than as a weapon of guilt.