Path

I used to read compulsively. I'd have a stack of textbooks and stack of "fun" books, and as I studied quantum mechanics or glycolysis, I'd take frequent study breaks to read my "fun" books - books on Christianity, on yoga anatomy, on yoga philosophy, novels, myths, Asian American studies, biographies...you name it. I realized this was a way of distracting myself, in a way - of escaping and making the present moment (studying things I don't really like) more bearable. I thought this was superior to using food, computer games, shopping, or TV to distract myself. Sure, it sounds a bit more scholarly or intellectual to be escaping into books, but isn't it a distraction all the same? It is a way of avoiding the present moment, and keeping from acknowledging what I am really experiencing.

What makes books like "Eat, Pray, Love" so successful? It's a great adventure story - one can easily live vicariously through Elizabeth Gilbert as she hops from one continent to the next on her own journey. It's a great way to avoid journeys of our own, both the joys and hardships of finding our own paths. It is safe and easy to read a book like that, whereas truly setting off on an adventure or questioning whether we are living honestly can be unsettling and difficult and depressing (at times).

I realized that escapism, or borrowing and imitating others, are no longer options for me. The word "vipassanā" (a word in Pali, the language of the Buddha) means to see things as they really are, insight into the nature of reality. To truly practice meditation means to not use meditation or yoga as "drugs," forms of dulling the senses and escaping from reality into an unreal "happy place."

Kübler-Ross Model

The Kübler-Ross model (a.k.a. the five stages of grief) was originally developed regarding people suffering from terminal illnesses, but was later applied to anybody dealing with a personal loss of some magnitude. My doctor had actually mentioned it to me when I visited him for an appointment during the holidays. I'd laughed it off then, and said I was fine (denial?). I remembered the conversation just now and looked it up on Wikipedia:

1. Denial—"I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me."

Denial is usually only a temporary defense for the individual. This feeling is generally replaced with heightened awareness of positions and individuals that will be left behind after death.

2. Anger—"Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; "Who is to blame?"
Once in the second stage, the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue. Because of anger, the person is very difficult to care for due to misplaced feelings of rage and envy. Any individual that symbolizes life or energy is subject to projected resentment and jealousy.

3. Bargaining—"Just let me live to see my children graduate."; "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."

The third stage involves the hope that the individual can somehow postpone or delay death. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. Psychologically, the individual is saying, "I understand I will die, but if I could just have more time..."

4. Depression—"I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die... What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"

During the fourth stage, the dying person begins to understand the certainty of death. Because of this, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time crying and grieving. This process allows the dying person to disconnect oneself from things of love and affection. It is not recommended to attempt to cheer up an individual who is in this stage. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed.

5. Acceptance—"It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

In this last stage, the individual begins to come to terms with his mortality or that of his loved one.

Apparently the steps don't always occur in this order, and not all of them do actually occur or sometimes people go back and forth between various steps. And this process should be allowed to take place naturally, neither rushed nor lengthened, until the final stage (acceptance) is reached.

Knowing my impatient personality, it was good to realize this. It is hard for me not to push myself too hard (even with getting over things like this??!)!!

But to be honest, sometimes I look back on the past six years of my life and wonder what I was possibly thinking. And I remind myself that it is better "late" than "later," and better "later" than "never."

Breathing Practice

Still wasn't ready to get back on the mat today. It feels like if anyone pushed me I would probably crack. Realized I need to be gentle with myself right now. It hurts to walk sometimes, and I need to be easy on my muscles. At least I think I'm recuperating somewhat.

Heading back to California on Friday. I need a break. I need some warmth, both literally and figuratively. I have the tendency to beat myself up over things, and sometimes it still feels surreal to me that this is all happening. I tend to try to keep myself composed...but I've had two teachers remind me that I'm human, something that I tend to forget (along with forgetting to breathe, lately).

I dream about moving to Berkeley someday and adopting a kitten. These days I question whether I'm living life in reverse.

Amendment

I'd like to amend the previous post. After a hot yoga class today, my Ashtanga teacher (who happened to be at the studio) came over to talk to me. She asked me about coming back to practice, and I just broke down crying. I told her that everything hurts, that my hamstrings, hips, back, everything's tight. I lost my flexibility over winter break when I was at home and got stressed out. I can't even bend forward that well anymore. She told me to breathe. And to just. Let. Go. I guess I blame myself for so many things, and am struggling so hard to find my footing right now. To be honest, I feel overwhelmed and it's like the world is spinning. Things aren't easy right now. I wasn't breathing. We talked for a long time. About how the practice is not just a physical one. About how it is something that I have that can ground me during this difficult time. She reminded me of when she was in the hospital (the same one where I go to medical school, incidentally!) - I'd visited her there between classes, when I first started studying with her. After her hospitalization, she had to start over, not comparing her current practice with how it was before. She asked me why I push myself so hard. I push myself hard in every aspect of my life. Why is it that I have to force myself to do things that I don't like? There is no reason for that. I told her I had been doing that for my entire life. That I felt like if I didn't do the right things then people won't like me anymore. She reminded me that it's about doing things that are true to myself and loving myself for who I am and being with people who love me for who I am, not for the things I can do. I told her about wanting to go to India, and asked if she had suggestions for places. She said to just travel, because I'll make myself go crazy right now if I try to practice there. I told her that I'm so bad at doing nothing. That I can't just do nothing. I don't know how to do that. Everything always has to be for a reason. She told me to take my mat with me to India, and the beauty of Ashtanga is that it can be practiced anywhere, by myself.

I realized yoga is not about pushing. It's about letting go. Why is it that people say Ashtanga is intense or competitive or too hard or aggressive? It's not the practice that's too hard, or intense, or competitive. We make it that way with our egos.

Back to the basics.

"Let go."

"Breathe."

And the amazing thing was, as I breathed, let go of all the tension and expectations and worries and concerns, I felt my muscles relaxing. As I sit and write this now, I am feeling significantly less pain. I was crying all the way home on the subway and in my room, got some strange glances along the way Uptown, but it was so necessary. It's as if the good cry and talk and just breathing has changed things. I hadn't even allowed myself a truly good cry after making the big decision, and I guess everything just came out.

This was a good lesson for me to learn. My teacher told me that too many people are afraid to change, and they'd rather just continue on the same miserable way. Twenty years down the line, it's even harder to change, and it doesn't get any easier.

The practice has taught me courage, for sure.

Be back on the mat on Sunday, learning to let go. I'll be hopefully practicing in a gentle way, a slower way, and a way that is not perfectionistic. The beginner's mind...

Ashtanga Teachings

It's snowing outside, here in NYC! I haven't seen it snow this hard before, and I keep staring out at the window in amazement! Anyhow, here are some Ashtanga illustrations that I saw online. They're very cute. I like the pasasana one in particular.

I learned a lot from regular Ashtanga practice over the course of last semester. Ashtanga is like a mirror. It allows you to observe yourself and see yourself as you are. But that's only if you dare to do so. As one of my fellow work-study students at the studio remarked, "There's so much ego in that room!" It's easy to look at one's neighbor and compare practices, when in actuality, who gets a medal for completing Primary Series, starting Intermediate Series, or reaching Advanced Series?

Ashtanga taught me to turn my gaze inward, and see myself. It taught me to listen to my own body, mind, and spirit. There are real consequences when I don't, as I'm experiencing now. I realized that I let so many people push me beyond my capacity all these years. I allowed that to happen by not listening to my own voice and not standing up for myself. I became a disciplined automaton, taking on discipline and achievement for its own sake, rather than as a means to an end, sacrificing my sense of happiness.

On January 22, it will be three years since I took my first Ashtanga yoga class in PE at UC Berkeley. Yoga, in general, has changed my life more than anything else, and has given me hope that change - make that change leading to freedom - is possible. I write this now as I decide consciously to step away from Ashtanga practice for a while. I realize that I may have overindulged in this practice over the course of last semester, but that in itself has taught me something. I'm not closing the door on returning to this practice in the future, but for now, I need to do something gentler, something slower, something that doesn't feed into my rigid disciplinarian tendencies. I realize that no one method of yoga is THE method. There are right seasons for each and every practice. Part of practicing yoga is to know which is for when.

I'll close this post with one quote that I learned through Ashtanga practice: "Why fear?"

Courage, and the willingness to try and risk. Vande gurunam!

Amma

In today’s world, people experience two types of poverty: the poverty caused by lack of food, clothing and shelter, and the poverty caused by lack of love and compassion. Of these two, the second type needs to be considered first—because, if we have love and compassion in our hearts, then we will wholeheartedly serve those who suffer from lack of food, clothing and shelter.

-Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)

Checking Out

I've been running around the school getting my checkout papers signed. Everyone sort of glances at me awkwardly and politely signs the papers without further questions. Only the bursar acknowledged the situation, and asked me what I'm doing next. I said I don't know (I have ideas, but no concrete plans), and he told me it's so common for people to leave med school. It was the first time a staff member at school had told me that, and I must have had a look of disbelief on my face (who leaves med school? Every day there are 10-20 interviewees practically begging to be let IN!). He readily reconfirmed what he'd just said, and told me he'd had countless jobs throughout his 20s and 30s too. He told me the below quote:

"Optimism is the true moral courage" -Shackleton

Which I guess means - if you don’t believe in what you’re doing, you will fail, because you will not have the strength of mind or body to succeed.