the online magazine about life as a creative process

 

Finding the Way Back Home

 

By Robert Levine

 

 

     
 

Most Wednesday evenings I find myself sitting in front of a group of people leading them through a yoga practice session, through the postures, through a deep relaxation practice, followed by breathing exercises, meditation and chanting. I’ve been teaching yoga for an average of once a week for over six years now (and practicing for nine years), and I’m not sure who gets more out of the class – the students or me. There have been so many times when riding on the subway after work to get to the class on time I think of blowing it off, of going home instead, of going to bed to get rid of the headache or other stress related ailments that are generated over the course of my eight hour plus work day.

But when I sit before the class and instruct the students to center the body and focus on the breath, I end up doing so as well. As the class progresses I find that the stresses and anxieties seem to flow out from me and fade away. There are probably many reasons why this happens. One is that by stretching my own body I release the tensions that have built up in the muscles and organs, another is that by having the students focus on their breath I focus on mine and calm myself down, and third that by teaching others I get out of my own head and all the things that were troubling me do not seem as important any more. It is for these and many other reasons that I stay at my yoga practice (though that seems impossible at times given all the obligations and activities we all fill our days with) and continue teaching week after week.

If you talk to another yoga student or teacher they may have had similar experiences that keep them coming back to their practice. There is another side to the yoga practice that may not get talked about so often, and that is that it eventually brings you face to face with yourself. That by releasing and relaxing, one can begin to shed their pretensions and assumptions about themselves and others and begin to take an honest look at who they really are – faults and all. And then comes the hard part – once having faced all the faults and fears, one has to learn how to accept them before you can even begin to let them go. After all these years of practice, what I found fascinating is not that I am going through all this, but that I am going through it knowing that I would have to go through it. I faced this challenge once before, and ran away screaming.

My association with yoga did not begin when I started practicing nine years ago, but more than twenty-five years ago when I took my first class in college. The reason I took the class wasn’t that I wanted to improve my health or relieve stress, but that a female friend of mine wanted me to take it with her and I wanted to impress her. While it is amazing what a twenty year old male will do to impress a woman, what was even more amazing to me at the time was that I found that I loved practicing yoga. It became my favorite class that semester. I couldn't wait for Tuesday and Thursday mornings when the class met. It was taught by an Indian man with a background in physics, and the class was equal parts exercise, meditation and philosophy. I couldn’t get enough. It became more and more a part of my life.

With a group of like minded friends, we began to go all over New York studying at most of the yoga and meditation centers that we came upon. For all of us yoga was more than just a way to get a good stretch, but became a vital part of the political-spiritual community we seemed to be forming. Our searches throughout the city became an exploration for any or all signs of enlightened awareness we could find. It was at one such outpost of enlightened awareness that I had an experience that remains with me. We had come upon and became active in a yoga/Zen meditation community that was being run by a Roman Catholic priest. One evening after a couple of hours of yoga and meditation, I started seeing the world on a molecular level. The boundaries that defined me as a physical being, and that I always believed separated and protected me from the rest of the world, appeared to be breaking down. At first the lines of demarcation became fuzzy and then I started seeing the molecules that made up my physical being mixing and interchanging with those that made up everything and everyone around me. The experience probably only lasted for a few seconds, but it felt like it would go on forever. When it was over I felt both exhilarated and saddened, exhilarated by the experience while saddened that I might never feel that connected to the world around me again. It was the exhilaration that first drove me. I shared the experience with my friends, and we saw it as one more sign that we were on the road to not only changing ourselves but to changing the world as well.

There were other experiences as well, some of which were not so pleasant. When you begin any path of self-exploration (and isn’t that what we were all doing at the time?), other things are going to come up as well. Among all those things that came up were all the doubts, confusions, insecurities and neuroses that seemed to be lying just below the surface. As I let down my guard and allowed myself to be more open, all the expected and unexpected things just below the surface began to erupt. In the context of the community I was part of, I found I had the strength and support I needed to handle it.

It was at this same time that my community started to come apart. This was all a perfectly reasonable thing to expect to happen with a group comprised mostly of undergraduates. As we graduated we began to move on to jobs, to graduate school, to deeper and more committed relationships. While we mostly remained friends, the day-to-day contact couldn’t be maintained, the regular meetings and yoga sessions moved further and further apart.

While I still had many good friends and became a part of other groups and communities, there were none that seemed to be able to provide the support or understanding that I needed to help me through the level of self-exploration that I was beginning to go through. As my spiritual-political community came apart I was also no longer able to find the initiative or the energy to continue with the yoga and the spiritual practices that were such an important part of my life. Actually I have come to understand that it was fear that made me stop doing yoga and the other practices. The fear that if the doubts and confusions continued to arise, I no longer had the support I needed to work through them.

So I stopped, left it all behind. Leaving it all behind meant leaving everything else behind that was part of my life at that time. The story I told myself was that all of this exploration was a diversion from “real” life and that it was about time for me to grow up and take on “adult” responsibilities.

In leaving the practices behind, I left the challenging and exhilarating experiences behind as well. I left behind that sense that there was a connection to something greater, to something more. I left behind my political activism that was also such an important part component of my every day life. While I stayed politically active for a number of years afterward, I lost the context that gave it meaning, and it eventually faded away as well. I tried other ways to get back the connection, but they didn’t seem to work. I found that these other ways required that I become dependent on external things that seemed so much more fleeting. I became resigned that all that had gone on before, both the negative and positive aspects, was to be relegated to a fondly remembered and increasingly distant past. It remained that way until a day about ten years ago.

My wife had taken up yoga the previous year and had been encouraging me to take it up as a way to take care of my health. I pushed it off saying that it was behind me and was not something I saw myself doing again. My mind began to change a few months later after my mother had passed away and I finally realized that I had to do something to reduce stress and better take care of myself. After resisting it, I finally took one class, then another until I was taking an average of two classes a week. It was about a year after that, when taking a class with one of my favorite teachers, I began to recapture and remember what it was about yoga that drew me in so deeply the first time around. I was in deep relaxation practice towards the end of class. As the teacher led us through it, I found myself going deeper and deeper until I found myself in this vast open space filled with light.

After walking away from the class my first thought was that I had just had a really good class and left it at that. It took some time for me to realize what had actually happened, that it had somehow brought me back to a place I had been before, something that had been building – that I was once again opening myself, opening up to possibilities. These lessons especially came to the forefront when a year later due to a back injury I was unable to do a physical practice and had to focus more on meditation and the spiritual teachings. I rediscovered that yoga was more then the postures we associate with it, but was at its core about finding the “true self” with all of its potentials and problems. This also meant having to once again face my doubts, confusions, insecurities and neuroses. I still had them, maybe not the same ones from all those years ago, but ones that needed to be dealt with and possibly resolved.

I was faced with a choice to either run away from them again or to confront them and find a way to deal with them. I was lucky to once again find myself in a community where I could find the love and support I needed, but that couldn’t be all there was. What was really necessary was to find the balance and perspective within myself to handle it whether the outside support was there or not. For the key was not the community I was in (though that is an amazing thing to have and which we all need), but the practice itself. It was the yoga practice, the very thing that helped to raise up the doubts and confusions, that offered the way through them. The thing was to let them rise up, pass through, and with each exhalation let them flow out and fade away.

This offered me not only the best way to live my life, but also the best way to live in the world. Not to avoid or ignore problems - - they’re going to be there whether you notice them or not -- but to accept them, confront them, do the best you can, and then move on, without losing your sense of balance and peace. It is not such an easy thing to do, but it is the best option we have.

 
     
 

 

     
 

Robert Levine is a certified yoga instructor at Integral Yoga Institute, and has a Masters degree in Political Science. He has been exploring the link between politics and spirituality for over 20 years.

 
     

 

     
   
     

 

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