by Darren Main
When I quit smoking, my yoga practice hit a new level. Now that my lifestyle supported my practice I could feel the awesome effects of the breathing techniques. I was moving forward with my spiritual and physical health, rather than simply treading water or sinking a bit more slowly.
The practice of Shauca is applied to three basic areas of life. They are diet, intoxicants and mental stimulation. All day long we allow things to enter our bodies and minds in these three areas. Each is different, but they all share one quality: in each area the things we choose to take in have a dramatic effect on how deep our practice will be. Of course, anyone who practices yoga will benefit from the experience even without cleaning up these areas of his or her life, but not purifying the lifestyle is like trying to run a race in high heels. You could do it, but it would be difficult and inefficient. Therefore, let’s take a look at each of these important areas.
A perfect diet is not a requirement for spiritual growth, but it certainly helps to eat foods that are clean and healthy. Eating a high fat, unbalanced diet affects our minds and our bodies. So it is very helpful to cut out certain foods and reduce others.
Things like white sugar and caffeine make meditation very difficult and they don’t do the immune system any favors either. Animal products tend to be high in saturated fats and more difficult to digest. Animal products also tend to be heavy on the system and can keep the mind anchored in the lower chakras. Therefore, for many yogis a vegetarian diet is standard. Of course, not all yogis become vegetarians, but conscious eating is almost essential; keeping the diet light is a major asset. In addition, it is recommended that a yogi not only pay attention to what is eaten, but also to the quality of the food that is taken in. Four thousand years ago, when yoga was forming, organic was not an issue, as all food was natural. Now, however, it is a big issue. Therefore, it is helpful to eat organic, whole foods whenever possible.
The idea is to give the body as much nutrition and prana as possible, while taxing it as little as possible. When we eat a high fat diet that is filled with pesticides and artificial ingredients, we tax our bodies and create ill health. The energy that it takes to repair such damage could otherwise have been used on our spiritual practice.
While not all yogis abstain from alcohol, tobacco, caffeine and recreational drugs, it is a good idea to eliminate or limit these things. In addition to the physical risks associated with drugs, alcohol, caffeine and tobacco, they also affect the mind dramatically. Since in yoga we are working to change and purify the mind, it makes no sense to dump toxins into it faster than a yoga practice can clear them out.
Traditionally, a yogi would have to take a vow to abstain from intoxicants before he or she would even be considered for a student; however, many modern yogis find it acceptable to drink or use drugs socially. While I don’t personally feel that the social use of intoxicants is a terrible thing, I do feel that the use of intoxicants is quite inhibiting to yoga practice. It is for this reason that I encourage my students to abstain from such substances or, at most, to use them rarely.
It’s not only our bodies that can take things in. In fact, our minds can be the most difficult place to practice Shauca. All day long we are bombarded with mental stimuli, which, for better or for worse, get filtered into our minds.
We find these stimuli in the music we listen to and in the websites we visit. TV, radio and the mass media play a huge part too. The yogis of the past could never have imagined the things to which our modern world exposes us. This makes it all the more important that we bring mindfulness to the things we put into our minds.
After the Columbine High School massacre in Colorado I read an article that stated that the average child would see over 18,000 murders on TV and in movies before high school graduation. That is an astounding number and not just a little bit sick. While children are a bit more open to taking in such things, they are not alone. As adults, we also take in everything we see, hear and read. All of this stimulus is a lot to deal with, and it makes it that much harder for us to sink to the depths to which yoga is calling us.
Living in our modern world, it is hard to imagine a life without most of the things mentioned above. When I travel it is especially difficult to keep my diet clean; every billboard I drive by and every magazine I pick up is filled with stimuli for my mind that, as a yogi, I would rather not take in. Because of this, I have found it is necessary to cut myself some slack. I do my best to eat healthy and monitor what I take into my mind. When I do need to stray a bit, I try to bring mindfulness to it. I try not to judge or rationalize the behavior, but just look at it for what it is. I have found that practicing Shauca in this way allows me to keep my life clean most of the time while giving myself enough wiggle room for my modern urban life.
Samtosha (Contentment)
Contentment brings unsurpassed joy.
—The Yoga Sutras 2:42
The second niyama is samtosha, which is the practice of contentment. When I first learned about this niyama, I thought it sounded weird. Contentment was something I had experienced from time to time. Often it was something that seemed to be a result of my hatha yoga practice. But it was not something I consciously chose. It always seemed to be something that sort of just happened.
This is where yoga heaps a large responsibility on our shoulders. Most of us go through life waiting for the right situation to make us content. The standard American dream is one where you are popular in high school, go to a great college, marry the perfect spouse, have two-point-five children, retire and die in the arms of your loving husband or wife. There is nothing wrong with holding this, or any other, vision as your life’s ambition. The problem arises when we attach our capacity for contentment to such goals.
Yoga teaches us to choose contentment in every moment, regardless of what is before us. Viewing contentment as a choice is nothing less than a radical notion. Virtually everything we are taught causes us to believe is that contentment is condition-based and in order to find it you need to do or acquire certain things. It is the very belief that contentment is the prize for winning the scavenger hunt of life that prevents us from being content. Once again, the ego has taken one of our natural desires and turned it into a weapon to prevent our waking up.
The practice of samtosha involves several steps. First, it is essential to be in the present moment. The limbs I will discuss in the next few chapters will greatly help to refine this present-mindedness, but even in the early stages of a person’s yoga practice it is important to start coming to the moment rather than dwell in the past or project into the future.
The second step is to notice your judgments about whatever is going on in the present moment. Perhaps you are happy and satisfied or maybe you are uncomfortable and anxious. Whatever you may be experiencing on a physical, emotional or psychological level, just note it and bring your focus to where you are. This is not always easy because we often bury our true feelings and judgments, but this is an essential step towards finding contentment.
The third and final step is to make peace with what is. We will learn more about this process as we continue our journey through the eight limbs of yoga, but even early on we can become aware of a conscious choice for peace and contentment over drama and conflict. This choice for contentment must happen in the present moment. As long as you believe that contentment will happen sometime down the road, you will never find it.
This doesn’t mean we don’t take steps to change an unhealthy situation. On the contrary, being content in this moment creates the space and the mindfulness to make more and healthier choices about life. Until we choose contentment in the present moment, we will likely make decisions based on the drama of the ego, and that is the quickest way to create situations that help us to rationalize our discontent.
In October of 1999, my sister was in a very bad car accident. She was in Hartford, Connecticut, at the time, and I was living in San Francisco. I first got the call from my father who was on his way to the hospital. He didn’t have much
information, and only knew that she was in critical condition and that she was going in for immediate surgery. He promised to call when he knew something more.
I felt like someone had just hit me with a stun gun. I wanted to cry or scream or something, but I was in complete overwhelm. It was Halloween night, and I had some friends over. We were putting on our costumes when I got the call. I tried to go back to the festivities, but couldn’t keep myself focused, so I decided to sit and meditate for a bit. As I sat, I tried to practice samtosha.
At first it was hard. My mind was torn between dwelling on my sister’s condition and the sense that I should have been in the other room, playing host to my friends. But I did my best to focus on my breath. As I did this, I allowed myself to enter more and more into the present moment. My projections and assumptions about what might happen with my sister were brought to a slow murmur.
By coming to the present moment I was able to let go of my fears about my sister’s future well being. Prior to that, my ego kept planning her funeral and other frightful renditions of the worst-case scenario, making contentment and clear perception of the situation impossible.
I then explored my feelings about the situation. I was very scared, but I was also very grateful that she was still alive. It could have been much worse. This step also brought me closer to peace. Once I stopped projecting my own fears onto her situation, I was able to feel my feelings and to recognize that I had a choice.
Once I recognized that I had a choice, I was able to find a sense of contentment—at least for the moment. I knew there was nothing I could do but pray. Over the next few weeks I would struggle a lot with the practice of samtosha. My sister’s condition did improve over time, and while she still has some physical problems as a result of the accident, she is in great shape. And even though she pulled through, each phone call I got updating me on her condition was an opportunity to work samtosha.
In some cases it may be helpful to sit and meditate when trying to choose contentment. But that is not always practical. Choosing contentment is something we want to do in each breath. As we learn to work the above three steps, choosing contentment will become a natural response to anything that throws us off center. Ten years ago, a traffic jam or a late bus would have ruined my whole day. I am still not above losing my peace of mind over such things, but I am much quicker to choose contentment when this type of thing happens. Because I try to practice samtosha with the little day-to-day things, I am much more prepared for the bigger things when they come around.
One of the ways we prepare to practice samtosha in life is through hatha yoga. When you come to a pose that is difficult, it is tempting to give up and stop trying, or to compare yourself to the person next to you, or to convince yourself that you will be happy when you perfect the pose. But by staying present in the pose, and choosing contentment with where the body is, we make space for growth. When we stay stuck in judgment and anxiety about our physical limitations, we not only cheat ourselves out of contentment in the moment, we deny ourselves the space to move forward with the practice.
Tapas (Austerity)
As intense discipline burns up impurities, the body and its senses become supremely refined.
—The Yoga Sutras 2:43
Tapas is the third niyama. It is the practice of creating an austere life. Austerity is simplicity through modest living. Traditionally, a yogi would renounce the world altogether, letting go of all worldly possessions except perhaps a loincloth and a rice bowl. Once again, this would be impractical for most of us. But this doesn’t mean that the practice of tapas can’t be modified for the urban mystic.
There is a story from India of a very wealthy man who lived in a great mansion with many rooms. He was a generous and good man who was very devoted to his spiritual practice. Although he had many servants and fine clothes, he placed his spiritual practice above all else.
There was an old yogi who lived nearby and had heard about this man who claimed to be spiritual, but would not let go of his worldly possessions. The yogi himself had only a rice bowl and the loincloth that he wrapped around his waist. The yogi decided that he would pay this man a visit to show him the error of his ways.
When he arrived at the rich man’s mansion, he was greeted warmly. The two sat and meditated and then chatted for hours about the nature of Spirit and other related topics. While they were in the middle of their conversation, however, a fire broke out in the mansion. One of his servants came in and informed the master of the house that he would need to evacuate.
Because he was enjoying his conversation so much, the man declined, but agreed to move to a different wing of the house. As the fire continued to spread, his servant again encouraged them to evacuate. Again the man refused, but moved to yet another wing of the mansion. Finally the rich man and the yogi were forced to escape with only enough time to see the large home disappear in smoke and ashes. The wealthy man calmly turned to the yogi to continue their conversation, but the old yogi just lay on the ground and sobbed.
“What’s wrong?” asked the rich man.
“I lost my rice bowl in the fire. Now I have nothing.”
Of course the moral to this story is that having a lot doesn’t mean you can’t practice tapas, and having a little doesn’t necessarily mean you are practicing it well. I think, as urban mystics, we can glean a lot of wisdom from this story.
Because most of us are called to live in the world, we will need some possessions. Even as I write this, I am typing into a two thousand-dollar computer system. Having possessions or not having possessions is not the issue. The core of tapas is whether or not those possessions help us to live a more centered life.
This is a difficult call, because the ego can be very clever at making us think we need all sorts of things that we don’t, and these things do nothing but distract us from our innate sense of peace and contentment.
It is this on which so much of our economy is built. Although we are told we live in a capitalistic society, we really live under commercialism. In capitalism, people produce, buy and sell products based on supply and demand. The demand part of the equation is supposed to be about need.
Under commercialism, the same equation is used, but consumers are made to think they need things that they really don’t. This causes them to work harder, spend more and earn less. This dynamic not only serves large corporations, but it also serves our egos.
The ego loves to keep us looking for peace in places where we will not find it. As long as you believe you can find peace in a faster car or a better stereo system, you will continue to look for peace but never find it. When you do this, you are damning yourself to a life of wandering in the dark, feeling around for something that is not there.
A more modern approach to tapas would be to take a real inventory of our possessions. Most of us, if we are really honest, would be able to take several truckloads of stuff to Goodwill and not miss a thing. I am not suggesting that we live in poverty and eat only rice. But it is helpful beyond measure to look at our stuff and get rid of what no longer serves us.
George Carlin had a famous comedy routine called “A Place for My Stuff.” In it, he went through a very funny monologue on how to manage one’s stuff. By the end of his routine, it’s clear how much energy goes into organizing and protecting and storing our possessions.
This is why we practice tapas. The immense energy that goes into keeping track of our stuff and storing it, not to mention the constant search for more stuff, is one of our greatest distractions in life. By letting go of some of that stress, we find we have more time for the things in life that really matter.
When I lead retreats to developing countries, my students are often struck by how happy the local people can be. They work hard and don’t seem to have much, but they smile and they are friendly. Their children may not have shoes or all their vaccinations, but they seem much happier than children in more developed countries. People in these countries work so they can enjoy life and each other’s compan
y, rather than working insane hours just to buy more stuff that fails to bring happiness.
As we begin to develop a tapas practice for ourselves, our chief concern, as with all the yamas and niyamas, is mindfulness. In this context, mindfulness means looking at each thing we buy, and all the things we own, and really exploring why each is a ‘need’ for us. Even if we still buy the product or continue to hold onto it, we will at least have an understanding that it will not bring happiness, and we will be that much closer to searching within.
Svadhyaya (Study)
Self-study deepens one’s communion with one’s personal deity.
—The Yoga Sutras 2:44
The fourth niyama is called svadhyaya and it is the practice of study. This niyama has two basic parts—Self study and the study of scripture. Although I will describe each aspect of this practice separately, at their pinnacle they become one. Self study is the practice of exploring one’s Self from the inside out, and getting to know that Self on every level. Scriptural study is like looking into a mirror, because the job of any great scripture is to reflect back to the reader that which is within. Both aspects of this practice ultimately give the urban mystic insight into his or her essential nature as Atman.