Loving-Kindness & the Small self

Most folks have been introduced to the idea of small self and BIG SELF.

The frequent analogy used to illustrate this concept is the small self as one of an infinite number of drops of water in the ocean and the BIG SELF as the ocean itself.  The idea is: one does not exist without the other, though paradoxically the  small self is miniscule and the BIG SELF is so vast it is beyond the far reach of the horizon.

Another way I imagine these more esoteric concepts is the small self as my little itty-bitty ego and the BIG SELF as the universal divinity from which I came and to which I will return- though that is pretty darn esoteric as well…

When I first began to increase my awareness of these 2 different selves that co-existed within me, it was hard to not look down my nose at my small self.

I would sit down to meditate, and I would watch my small self immediately get activated as my mind restlessly moved around and my emotions  swirled into a vortex that threatened to take the whole ship down with it.  And it was all I could do to not literally, though sometimes I would, shake my head in disdain.  “There she goes again…” I’d think, referring to my small self with exaggerated frustration.

As of late, however, I’m trying a more compassionate, loving, and dare I say integrative stance toward my small self.

This shift has been fostered by these words:

“Since death alone is certain, and the time of death is uncertain, what should I do?”

 –By Stephen Batchelor, from Buddhism Without Beliefs.

And:

“Our lives do not belong to us. We are just taking care of them.”

-By Les Kaye, from “True Nature” in Mountains are Mountains and Rivers are Rivers: Applying Eastern Teachings to Everyday Life.

I have re-read each of these statements several times and then I have sat with them because both felt like important declarations to me;  like riddles inside a puzzle, or in the Buddhist tradition like a koan in which the answer existed within the problem.

This process of contemplating led me to brainstorm, or free-associate, everything that I linked with my small self and my BIG SELF, and these are the lists I came up with:

My small self :

      Very hard working

      Obstacles

      Rigid

      Unsatisfied

      Wanting

      Narrow

      Easily frustrated when stuck

      Stuck for longer

      Smart

      Tired

      Not enough

      Resourceful

      Scared

      Depleted

      Safety and security

      Isolation

      Loneliness

      Resilient

      Tough

      Rarely gives up

      Abandonment

      Small

      Loyal

      Terrified

      Hurt

      Neglect

      Hurried

      Protective

      Hate

      Care-taking

      Time-bound

      Resentment

      Boundaries

      Disappointment

      Limited

      Perseveres

      Strengths & weaknesses

      Concerned with past, present and future all the time

      Able to identify solutions

      Notices joyful “life is good” moments

My BIG SELF:

      Awareness

      Generous

      Limitless

      Growth

      Expansion

      Clear-seeing

      Inter-connection

      Big Picture

      Runneth Over

      Consciousness

      Compassion

      Will be okay

      Universe

      Fearlessness

      Environment

      Deeply saddened by violence and harm

      Effortlessness

      Easy-going

      Open

      Agape-Love

      Hopeful

      Infinite

      Not overwhelmed when stuck

      Inter-being

      Abundant

      Integration

      Opportunity

      Un-rushed

      Able to identify solutions

      Effortless

      Mindful of cause and effect in relation to time

      Bountiful

      Creative

      Reality

      Wisdom

      The word “yes”

As you can imagine by these lists, it was genuinely difficult for me to hold a non-judgmental stance, as meditation encourages us to do, in order to not perceive my small self as bad and my BIG SELF as good.

However, the process led me to draw my small self as a tiny circle within the context of larger circle, my BIG SELF. Using this visual, I tried to internalize my BIG SELF as a guardian to my small self. 

“Our lives do not belong to us. We are just taking care of them.”

I then strained to not view my small self as a burden, but rather as a baby, my baby, for whom it is an honor to walk this journey with as I watch and rejoice as the small self learns, grows and eventually disappears from sight.

“Since death alone is certain, and the time of death is uncertain, what should I do?”

Perhaps, then, also paradoxically, when I act from a place of greater loving-kindness toward my small self in meditation and in life, it will allow for more presence and visible experiences of my BIG SELF as well.

I will try such loving-kindness today. Will you?

Early Experiences off the Mat

I was about 5 years into my yoga practice when I first began to take it off the mat.

It was not a well-formulated, conscious decision by any means. But when I think back, it was a clear moment in time, 2006 to be exact, that my yoga practice began to shift in a new direction that went beyond the asana or yoga poses.

This shift began, as many things do, with a loss.

It was the winter of 2006, and was I 28 years-old.  I had had a medical procedure, and afterward the physician who had performed the procedure said to me, in a rather aloof manner, that he believed I would not ever be able to get pregnant and have children of my own.

Now, I had never been one of those girls who grew up fantasizing about weddings or babies.  At age 28 I was an independent young woman just 6 months out of graduate school who was beginning my career.

But have you ever felt a loss of something that you did not even have yet?  Had not even envisioned for yourself yet?

Well, I did.  Hearing the news that I would likely not be able to have children was devastating.

The following day I went to work (of course, that’s what we all do right?!), but by lunchtime I felt depleted and grief-stricken.  So I left the building I worked in at the time and strolled over to the Barnes and Noble to soothe myself with a hot beverage.

When I walked through the doors of the bookstore/café, I saw the usual rolling carts of discounted books on display.  I absently walked over to them and began to scan covers and titles, and that’s when my eye caught on the orangey-red hue of Christy Turlington’s 2002 book Living Yoga: Creating a Life Practice.

Reading this book, not once, not twice, but many times, was a game-changer for me.  Not because it is the most well-written book about yoga.  Not because I have much interest, if any, in the former model Ms. Turlington (no offense to her). 

For me, re-reading this book was like massaging something inside of me that I could not fully articulate yet.  It was like I knew something organic was happening, but I had no language to put it into words.

I think the 5 years I had been going to yoga classes and bending myself into all sorts of pretzel contortions had opened up a space inside of me to first explore the virtues and philosophy that contextualize the asana limb of yoga.

Ten years later, I would say this shift marked the beginning of a spiritual life. 

Of course back then, I would have said no such thing- the word “spiritual” was definitely not in my vocabulary.   No, I would have intellectualized Ms. Turlington’s spiritual memoir.  And I did.

“Oh, how interesting! Look at the many different types of meditation there are.  Look at the history of the science of yoga.”  Very much a neck-up endeavor, and quite similar to the approach I had taken to my introduction to mindfulness just 2 years before.

And yet, as I was feeling this experience of immense grief, which was both confusing and familiar at the same time, I think a deeper, wiser part of me was beginning to seek new ways to understand and be more skillful with the complex nature of reality and suffering.

This time in my life reminds me of the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke’s words about what I’d call “practice.”  He said:

What is required of us is that we love the difficult and learn to deal with it. In the difficult are the friendly forces, the hands that work on us.  Right in the difficult we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: there against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.

I believe in 2006, at that place of some 5 years of yogic movement and grieving the most recent loss, I felt the hands working on me.

This process began organically, as it must I suppose; it seems there can be no forcing in the life of the spirit- which is simultaneously fortunate and unfortunate.

I would later go on to other books and study to further expand my understanding of yoga.  One favorite was Living Your Yoga: Finding the Spiritual in Everyday Life by Judith Lasater.

Again, like with Ms. Turlington’s book Living Yoga: Creating a Life Practice, my first pass through this book began at a more surface level.  For example, I thoroughly enjoyed just reading the chapter titles like “Letting Go,” “Patience,” and “Impermanence.”  

But later, in the second and third pass, new levels of understanding were beginning to take shape. Aided, no doubt, by my additional exploration of my own psyche in psychotherapy which allowed for greater self-awareness and complimented yogic philosophy beautifully.

In one favorite paragraph from Living Your Yoga, Ms. Lasater says yoga practice is “the consistent willingness to open to life in all of its joy and pain.”  She then goes on to explain that this willingness is required both on and off the mat. 

Yoga practice, she says,

certainly includes what you have always thought of as your yoga practice, such as poses, breathing exercises, and meditation. But it also casts a wider net to encompass frustration with your temperamental car, the argument you had with your friend, washing your dinner dishes, and your apprehension about an important meeting.  In other words, to practice is to pay attention to your whole life: your thoughts, your bodily sensations, and your speech and other actions.  As you do, you will discover that nothing is separate from anything else…Each moment of your life is a moment of potential practice.

Thinking back to this earlier chapter in my spiritual life can make me a little sad inside.  I long to reach across time and give that confused twenty something year-old version of me a hug while whispering in her ear: “Take a breath.  Relax as it is. Be patient. Everything will be understood in due time.”

What early “off the mat” experiences did you have? What would you tell your younger self about the spiritual and/or yogic journey?

Poetry 102: The Window & The Wheel of Samsara

The Window

Before the dawn,

I only see my own reflection.

The darkness dominates;

there seems to be no reality beyond my senses.

Then,

the sun begins to rise.

Light infiltrates darkness.

The city gradually appears-

as if out of nowhere.

And with it,

I disappear.

Again.

The Wheel of Samsara

I am alone again.

I hate it,

but I know it.

The only thing worse than hate

is the not knowing.