What comes to mind when you hear the word "yoga"? Maybe you think of super bendy people who wear spandex; maybe you think of relaxation and stretching; maybe you think of a mystical man with braids in his gray beard sitting atop a mountain. The thing with yoga (..as if there is just one "thing" with it, ha!) is that it is so much more than any one of those examples.
The literal definition of yoga is "union" or "to yoke".
The literal definition of yoga is "union" or "to yoke". And while most western yoga classes focus on the asanas, or physical poses, that is only 1 of the 8 yogic limbs. I'm not going to get super detailed in the other 7 limbs here (though I will dedicated future blogs to the examination of each), but I do want to point out that all 8 limbs together form a reflective practice of observation, question, and exploration on both an individual (small "s" self) and community (big "S" Self) level. "So what does that have to do with this blog's title?" you might ask. Let's look at an experience I recently had and see.
Costa Rican Chaos
My soon-to-be husband and I step off the plane to a sun that is quickly headed towards the western horizon. We have been en route for nearly 12 hours now (mostly because I refuse to buy anything at full/regular price and therefore booked us the cheapest tickets I could find.. complete with red eye flights and two 4 hour layovers), and as we heft our luggage through the terminal our eyes search out any individual that looks to be offering rides. We have rented a car, but must get across the bustling city of San Jose to retrieve it (because picking it up at the airport itself added a "convenience fee"..and again- I'm cheap). "Taxi, taxi!" we hear a man advertise, and we eagerly load into his little red car. That night, we use our rusty Spanish to renegotiate with the rental agency (who gave us a 2 seater..when we were about to meet up with 5 other full grown adults - and their luggage), we got directions out of the city from a friendly gas attendant who said to "Van a la derecha al semaforo" (and then we had to remember what the heck a semaforo was), we drove across the country and down the coast, and we finally arrived at a little one room thatch-roofed house and... plopped onto the (slightly moist) bed. I was exhausted from the day's travels. I had spent that much time in transit before, but add into it the stress of navigating a foreign country (at dark) with only a trifold map and the fact that this was my first time abroad as an adult (meaning I had to actually make the decisions.. and deal with the consequences) anddd there is a chance I may have cried. Just a little. (Or maybe a lot.)
I fell asleep to rain pouring onto the roof and howler monkeys calling in the near distance.
Of the next 15 days we spent in Costa Rica I felt that anxiety and discomfort 0 more times. As a person who has dealt with anxiety myhole life I found myself wondering, "Why? Why am I surrounded my such newness, taking on such challenges (such as the 2 other cross country trips we embarked upon while there), and yet completely...okay?" When I really began to relfect on it, I found that it came down to an issue of presence. When confronted with novelty, it becomes difficult to focus on anything other than the immediate moment.
When confronted with novelty, it becomes difficult to focus on anything other than the immediate moment.
All 8 limbs of yoga have that key detail in common. In the physical asana practice we are challenged to develop a keen body awareness; in the meditative dhyana practice we are taught to maintain a constant, thorough examination and focus of the mind; in the breath-oriented pranayama practiced we are asked to direct our energy towards the regulationg of our breath. The result of these combined practices is an elevated state of awareness that can be used to understand and navigate the world we find ourselves in.
This is much like what I experienced in Costa Rica. While the newness started as a bit of a discomfort, it quickly took on the shape of a learning opportunity. I could enter into moments of meditation with ease as my mind sought to partake in each experience fully. This has happened to me before when enjoying a hobby: a sustained moment of keen awareness while casting a fly onto a soft seam in the water or a moment of completely effortless mind-body synchronization while climbing. This is what Sven Birkerts describes as the "art of attention" - this idea that we have the ability to be completely, fully present... it's just that we struggle to acheive this (even with mindful effort). Yoga theory teaches that there are practices capable of helping us learn this habit, and I argue that travel is one of them.
Whether you backpack to a lake you've never visited or book a flight to Italy, you have a means to the same end: presence. And, in this day in age especially, that is something difficult but oh so worth finding.
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