The Policy of Truth

It’s Been a While

It’s been a while. Not just since I’ve taught publicly, or updated social media, but a while since I’ve completed any “projects of significance”. It’s also been a while since I’ve connected on a meaningful level to friends, students, or really anyone. And I’ve been feeling pretty bad about all of it. More accurately, it could be said that a stream of guilt and self-criticism has steadily evolved from a tiny trickle to a raging torrent over the past 16 months. And on many occasions I’ve let it drag me under. 

Believe it or not, the self-castigation hasn’t been productive. In fact, it’s in direct opposition to all the good orderly direction I’ve been given from the practices of yoga. Perhaps you’re familiar with the concept of Ahimsa - or yoga’s “Be Not a Dick to Thyself Or Others” commandment. If one uses Patanjali's “eight limbs” as a sort of yogic manual, that tennet is step one. And while there are many reasons why Ahimsa is necessary for growth and healing, the most fundamental reason is simply this: inflicting suffering is a drag. 

Directed outwardly, harmful action is much more easily identified. Directed inwardly, however, it can be less easily defined, more difficult to see, and so much sneakier. Clearly, if you’re injuring yourself physically or calling yourself names, you’re undoubtedly inflicting self-harm. Subtler forms can look like judging yourself harshly or blaming yourself for the behaviors of others. Even subtler forms can come in the order of choosing to remain silent when something needs to be said, or not sharing difficult thoughts and feelings - or conversely, continuing to share those thoughts and feelings with someone who can’t, or simply won’t, show you empathy. Whether that energy is directed inwardly or outwardly, it's likely to drain vitality, hinder practice, and in general just weigh you down. 

For this reason, among many others, yogic practices tend to be rooted in non-harshness. On the level of practice, it simply isn’t effective to struggle with your breath or to force your body into shapes that it isn’t ready to make. It’s no different for life outside of practice. When the harshness occurs, there tends to be a “should-ing” and a quality of self-criticism looming behind. Instead, tend to the breath and body as you would a garden. It’s no more beneficial to be unkind to what arises within the body and mind as it is to shout at a plant for having shallow roots. So please, don’t deride the hydrangeas. 

There is a story I like (one of many, really) about a young Swami Kripalu as he was wandering from village to village. One evening, in a state of spiritual bliss, the young renunciate monk spontaneously leapt into the Narmada River. This expression of ecstasy immediately turned into the proverbial “Oh Shit Moment” as the raging river violently swept him away. He could hear shouts of distress from villagers on the banks as he recognized his peril and began to flail for control. Repeatedly, the river drew him under and the battle with Narmada was being lost. From far off, amid the rushing river and cries of concern, he could hear the gentle voice of his guru speaking directly to him. “Swami, stop swimming” the voice said, “Stop struggling.” Without hesitation, Kripalu listened to the voice and began to release control. Then, according to legend, he took matsyasana, or “fish pose”, and drifted safely to shore. 

Perhaps I’ll stop struggling as well. Perhaps I’ll listen to the quiet inner voice and stop all of the useless swimming and all of the useless should-ing. Perhaps I’ll reach out and share more often. And if the stream of unkindness begins to form once again, perhaps I’ll notice before it becomes a river, and choose kindness instead. We all deserve kindness. Thank you for being here. Thanks for reading. May you be happy, may you be healthy, and may you be at peace.