 …our everyday lives can be viewed as a continuous pilgrimage, where each moment offers an opportunity for growth and understanding.
I recently returned from a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, an expedition steeped in centuries of tradition and spiritual significance. These journeys have been a cornerstone of various cultures and religions for millennia, including Mecca, Abraham's path in the Middle East, and Mount Kailash in Tibet, to name a few. Each trek, whether it's the Franciscan Way linking France and Italy or the Kumaon Pilgrimage in Northern India, embodies the pursuit toward a deeper understanding of oneself in relation to the divine. The term 'pilgrimage' often evokes the physical effort required to reach a sacred destination. However, this effort also serves as a metaphor for the human spiritual journey—a path marked by personal sacrifice, lack of comfort, emotional and physical challenges and sometimes self-denial. Just as the undertaking to Santiago de Compostela involves traversing physical landscapes, it also requires navigating the inner terrain of the self. This duality is reflected in many philosophies and spiritual practices, from Taoism's "way to perfection" to Buddhism's path to Nirvana and Yoga's “pursuit” of Samadhi. My pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, explored not only the physical journey but also the profound spiritual insights gained along the way. The allegorical dimension of a journey such as this serves as a powerful symbol for our lives. The concept absolutely transcends its literal meaning and is rich with hidden messages that represent various aspects of human experience and mystical quest. Here’s a deeper look at how the idea of pilgrimage can be understood in different contexts:
This allegorical view highlights how our physical and spiritual journeys are interwoven, emphasizing that the challenges and experiences we encounter are integral to our broader understanding for meaning and self-discovery. Not unlike other soul-searching methods I have embarked upon, this undertaking was multifaceted. It was an opportunity to step away from the everyday grind, and a chance to reconnect with something larger than myself. The preparation involved not only logistical planning but also physical, mental and emotional readiness. I set out with a mix of anticipation and apprehension, eager to discover what the journey would reveal. My motivation is always the same; a desire for clarity in my life and the longing to get closer to knowing myself beyond superficiality, and truly understand how I navigate my life in order to experience the deepest levels of self acceptance and self love. You would think that after 21 years of teaching Yoga and many more years practicing this would come as naturally as the rising sun. But of course, I’m human! It still fascinates me after all this time, that when I am hot, tired, hungry, or in pain and my defences are low, the default can be a spicy attitude, and in an instant all perspective can be lost. But the silver lining is that I understand this about myself and know this is the smaller way I move through the world. In greater measure, I love easily. Places, situations, conversations and people have me falling in love multiple times a day. It’s like my heart has an open door to all the wonders around me. It’s not romantic, it’s life! Life is love. The physical trek to Santiago de Compostela was both arduous and exhilarating. The various routes to the city offer diverse landscapes, each with its own set of challenges and rewards. From the initial excitement of setting out to the fatigue of long days on the trail, every step became a metaphor for the inner struggles and triumphs I faced. Key moments, such as meeting fellow pilgrims and overcoming personal obstacles such as physical pain, provided insights into the nature of human connection and resilience. This time, I chose the Primitivo route as a compromise with the friend I was walking with. It was more conducive to cooler weather and distance (321km.) This is said to be the original “way” and is reported to be the most challenging and rigorous route that crosses the Cantabrian mountains for the first week. Is it difficult? The short answer is, yes. There are a lot of ups and downs, both physically and figuratively with the highest point being 1,122m (3681ft.) The inclines and declines are intense, and they go on all day. My strategy was a little “slow and steady wins the race” and a little “mind over matter.” Early on when my body was sore from head to toe, (literally everyday) I would question why exactly I was doing this walk, I adopted the mantra “we can do hard things.” Of course, life if full of hard things like being a refugee and emigrating to another country, lost love; caregiving loved ones; ending relationships; overcoming addiction, learning to set boundaries, to name a few. It’s all relative to your situation, but one thing is for sure we can do all kinds of hard things in this life! The pilgrimage profoundly impacted my personal perspective. It was a journey not just across geographical terrain but also through the inner landscapes of my own being. The experience taught me about the importance of pausing to appreciate the small moments, the value of community, and the transformative power of ritual and reflection. It highlighted how our everyday lives can be viewed as a continuous pilgrimage, where each moment offers an opportunity for growth and understanding. The phrase "Buen Camino" or "good way," frequently heard along the Camino de Santiago, became more than a simple greeting; it symbolizes a shared journey and mutual encouragement and an offered blessing. This sentiment resonates with the notion that our walk through this life, in essence, is our personal mission. We need not travel great distances to find meaning and purpose; it is present in our daily experiences and interactions. Upon reflecting on my walk to Santiago de Compostela, I recognize that the journey was a microcosm of life's broader odyssey. The physical challenge mirrored the inner exploration for self-discovery and connection that we often experience in a Yoga practice. Each day is as an opportunity to engage in the path of self-observation (svadhyaya) and spiritual growth. Don't get me wrong, I do believe that the epic journeys are important to create reflective space. But the idea that "regular" life itself is both inspiring and humbling, suggests that our everyday experiences and challenges are part of a greater, sacred experience that many times cannot and likely will not be known in the moment. Often, these teachings need time to reveal themselves, mature and take root. Coupled with Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras is a powerful way to frame this adventure. The sutras lay the foundation for understanding that the path of Yoga as not just a physical practice but a spiritual and philosophical journey. It’s such a generous offering! Embracing Yoga in this way and seeing life itself in this context really deepens the practice. Starting with the first four Sutras, we can explore:
I embraced these Yoga Sutras as I walked. Moving between the present moment, the stilling of the mind, and feeling the truth of my nature, only to be disturbed by the fluctuations of the mind once again. The time that I spent in noble silence was profound. I deeply understood we don’t really have much to say except our opinions. Getting quiet frees the mind and spirit allows for a different type of sensitive and vulnerable communication to spring forth in the form of truthful conversations, innate wisdom and sometimes poetry. Throughout the ages there have been many musings, books and poems written that underscore the essence of pilgrimage as a journey led by the heart and spirit. But there is a cost, “…One has to abandon altogether the search for security and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to embrace the world like a lover, and yet demand no easy return on love. One has to accept pain as a condition of existence.” Morris West At the end of the day, the path we choose can lead us to profound insights and a deeper connection with ourselves and the world around us. It’s an opportunity to see and meet yourself as a whole person. If you can adopt the attitude of “walk, don’t reach” you will find that every experience, and every step either sacred or fear-filled has led you to this moment and is a part of the greater pilgrimage of your life. I wish you many blessings on your journey ~ Buen Camino.
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 “At its heart, the journey of each life is a pilgrimage, through unforeseen sacred places that enlarge and enrich the soul” John O’Donohue
The Camino de Santiago has always been a dream of mine from the time I first read “The Pilgrimage” by Paulo Coelho back in the mid 1990’s. The book is a recollection of Coelho’s experiences as he made his way on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, across Northern Spain. The book is part adventure, part self discovery and part insight into the simplicity of life. The book had me at “part adventure!” Since reading the book and patiently envisioning a time I might walk the Camino, my dream finally came true in June of 2023 when I was invited to walk the Portugues Coastal Camino with a friend. It did not take long to answer with a resounding “YES.” Now, after having had my own 280km version of this epic journey, I understand the adage “the Camino really starts when you get home.” I’ve been home for over a month now and I am still integrating and digesting the experiences I had. The mysteries and insights gleaned along the way are slowly but surely revealing themselves to me. I’m not going to lie though, I miss the routine of getting up, walking, meeting people from all over the world, arriving at my destination, washing myself and my clothes, eating, sleeping, and getting up to do it all again the next day. Although physically demanding on the body, this routine is a simple recipe that allows for a profound meditative quietness and deep reflection if you’re willing to take the mission. Using just my two legs walking from town to town like so many pilgrims before me dating as far back as the 12th century felt like a real achievement. So, when I returned, it's no wonder others felt that too and were curious enough to ask many questions about my experience. The three most common questions that I have been asked since returning are:
Just like a profound meditation or Asana (physical) practice, somehow words can never quite capture the immensity or importance of a moment, but I’ll give it a shot. I recall Baba Hari Dass (Babaji) writing “…those who climb mountain peaks practice every day.” They say that the Camino starts from the moment you decide to walk. So, I started practicing by breaking in my new shoes and walking/training mostly 7 and 8 km walks near the ocean three or four days/week and couple of 20km walks just to show myself I could do it. I wanted to reduce the risk of getting blisters; and even still I had 2 consistent yet manageable blisters for my entire journey. Thankfully, I had compeed blister bandages that worked well once I learned how to use them properly. Note: don’t remove compeed blister bandages until they fall off on their own, it could land you in the hospital for necessary foot care. Besides preparing my mind and body for walking long distances of up to 25 or 30km a day by training with my full pack. I took to heart what I had read from experienced “pilgrims,” so I was meticulous about what I brought. Over the course of a month of preparing, I packed, unpacked and repacked my bag several times. Since I would be carrying everything on my back, I wanted to be sure that I was taking only the absolute necessities and none of the what ifs. You can read my packing list here if you’re curious. For those of you who know me well and my obsession of footwear, you will notice from my packing list that I still managed to bring three pairs of shoes! But that’s a topic for another day. The experts say that the weight of your backpack should be no more than 10% of your body weight, so I was excited, but also slightly mortified when my pack came in at 6.5 kilos or just under 15 lbs; you do the math! The moral of the story is, if you choose to carry your backpack, you don’t want it to feel like it’s a huge burden, weight matters. So, with my preparation complete, all that was left was to get on the road. As the old adage goes “you can run, but you can’t hide” or perhaps a better way of saying it is, “wherever you go, there you are.” Not that I ever considered my Camino running from anything, but I was surprised at the emotions that would arise when I was least expecting them. The Camino experts say you don’t only pack your things, you also pack your fears. For some there is the fear of the daily unknown, blisters, fatigue, lack of food, not having a place to lay your head, at the end of a long day, you name it. Turns out for me it was fear of abandonment. I’ve done enough personal “work” to know that sometimes (not always) I unconsciously bring some of it on myself – it’s a deep samskara (latent habitual pattern.) To make a long story short, I walked a little slower than my walking mate(s) and often they were quite a distance ahead of me. I could no longer see them and began to concoct an elaborate story about how they had left me behind and the insensitivity of it all – I mean, what if I hurt myself or got lost or, or, or. I felt deeply abandoned. It was the similar feeling and emotion that I’ve experienced in other situations when I’ve felt “left.” For me the fear of abandonment is almost always accompanied by its close companion anger. In all honesty, in that moment the weight of the story felt heavier than my bag. Thankfully, through my 25 plus years of practicing and teaching Yoga I’ve honed the skills to realize when I’m making up stories, that contribute to my suffering. It didn’t take me long to catch on to myself and begin to examine the validity of the situation. During my Camino research, I also remembered reading the experts saying, “the Camino provides.” Not only did I meet an additional lovely walking companion, both the Camino and my Yoga practice provided me with my first salient insight to my emotional pain. I often think in metaphors, and while walking, it became obviously clear to me that as in life, we all have a different pace both physically and emotionally. Sometimes we are lockstep, walking side by side absolutely aligned, sometimes we’re ahead and sometimes behind. It was surprising for to me realize that although my pals were choosing a faster pace, I had also made choices; to slow down, enjoy my walk and enjoy connections with folks I met along the way. Now, instead of experiencing an emotional projection for my feelings of abandonment, it was abundantly clear that I had made a conscious decision and with that came the gift of empowerment and agency and a feeling of true openheartedness. Ram Dass's quote was never clearer "we're all just walking each other home." Babaji’s quote came to mind “don't think that you are carrying the whole world; make it easy. make it play, make it a prayer.” To be honest the other challenges felt like a cake walk. This includes going into the walk with an Achilles and inner ankle tendon issue that thankfully resolved itself within a few days. But it does stack up closely against my unknown fear of walking in the dark. Which, in retrospect is at the same time beautiful and terrifying. Walking alone, in the dark, on an unfamiliar trail, in a country that’s not my own, at times felt intimidating. To be fair, the guys whooping it up and hollering “buen camino” and offering me a beer at 6:30AM in the pitch dark didn’t help either. Which leads to my second profound insight and gentle reminder. Put simply, we are most afraid of what we don’t know and when we look at life through a lens of fear, this is how we see the world. Developing a healthy relationship with curiosity can unlock a door in almost any situation. My third insight truly came as an unexpected gift. I had read that taking the ashes of a loved on the walk was a beautiful way to find closure. Many pilgrims have found a deep sense of peace and connection to their loved one. This sounded like a great idea, so I told almost no one that I was taking a small vial of my dad’s ashes along with me. It was meant to be a symbolic act of letting go of any attachments that I still had remaining along with the heavy, lifting that we (me, my family and most of all him) had been doing before and at the time of his death. I understood that this gentle act also allows the family member to become a part of the journey. My dad had been there for me on many journeys, and he didn’t fail me this time either. There were two extremely hot days, with temperatures coming in at around 37 degrees. One of them was particularly excruciating for me. I had to stop about every 10 minutes to sip water, catch my breath and attempt to coax myself into continuing with almost no shade. So, I asked my dad “if you can hear me, please help.” His voice was as clear as a bell, “you’ve got this kid! No problem!” I’ve always believed in this as an idea, but to have him actually “show up” was miraculous. It was and continues to be an important reminder that even in death (maybe especially in death), our ancestors are just waiting to be called upon for their guidance. So, what happens now that I’m home? Since returning from the Camino, I continue to reflect on the variety of the 280km of terrain that was walked. It’s a remarkable metaphor for life in all it’s forms in the sense that when I look back on it, it’s like looking into a mirror of personal relationships, the vast array of human emotions and life itself. Sometimes it’s mundane like the endless miles of boardwalk, at times the path is slightly concealed and walking in sand feels like an ancient pilgrimage through the desert. Sometimes you get help from bridges and logs to get from one side to the other. Sometimes, the road is challenging and feels hard on the body and mind (and ego!) like unforgiving asphalt, the bumpy cobblestones and walking uphill for what seems like an eternity. Sometimes you can see the big picture and know your place in it and other times you walk in darkness. Walking through the forest is a beautiful relief on the spirit where the trees and soft dirt offer protection from the heat and the incessant white noise of life. And then there’s the water! Where it all feels like smooth sailing; everything flowing harmoniously. In those moments I’m simply present, responding to what each moment is calling for, step, smile, step, smile. I learned so much about life, emotions, and relationships from the varied terrain. Of course, we each have our own version of the Camino. For me, this terrain is the perfect metaphor; full of all the inconsistencies and contradictions, challenges, and beauty that life has to offer. Finally, there are the yellow arrows – finding them and allowing them to guide you is really the only work of the day. I liken the arrows to uncovering, knowing, and following the dharma (the right or true way for each person to carry out their life that serves both themselves and others.) Just like the dharma, sometimes finding the arrows and staying on track is complicated. There’s often a fork in the road and depending on the path you choose you may go in the wrong direction; I did get lost a couple of times and that made for long hot days. I learned during my Camino, that finding the “yellow arrow” is mostly a solitary, alone journey, that pilgrims do together. But just like life, when you find the “yellow arrow,” follow it, and trust that you’ll get to your destination. For me, my yellow arrow/dharmic destination is an ever evolving, unfolding of what is absolutely essential for the journey and what can be left behind, much like the pack I carried. The Bhagavad-Gita says, “It is better to do your own dharma even imperfectly, than someone else’s dharma perfectly.” At the end of the day, the only question to answer on the Camino and in life is, what’s your yellow arrow? Once you unlock that mystery of being you, follow it, you can never go wrong. Buen Camino.  The pen is mightier than the sword - Edward Bulwer-Lytton
A while back I started to explore the idea of what it meant to “locate” myself beyond Dhyana (meditation) and Asana (movement practice or postures). Let me tell you, at times has been an awkward and convoluted journey. Back in February 2021 I wrote about how liberating and impactful it felt to practice Yoga and Buddhism during Black History month with Dharma teachers that were primarily black and other people of color (BIPOC). It felt comforting to hear language that I could relate to, and it made me feel at ease and at home in myself. During that time, I learned things about my family's history that were not so surprising; like the fact that I come from enslaved people and some very surprising things; like the fact that these enslaved people also enslaved people. Recently, I was inspired once again through a writing exercise to discover myself, and to answer the age-old questions, “who am I” And “where do I come from.” I approached this as a mindfulness practice; an excavation to unearth the deepest seeds that inform my unconscious beliefs. If my Yoga practice has taught me anything, it’s that it is not worth my time or energy trying to deny it. We all have these hidden patterns that, if left unexplored, continue to influence, and guide the ways we move through life repeating the same narratives and driving the story line down further and further. It is like Groundhog Day – same stuff, different day. Once you catch on to yourself, you realize it is somewhat boring and very predictable. I firmly believe that we can understand our life a little differently when we look in the rear-view mirror from time to time. So, I took this writing experiment as an opportunity to do exactly that – to learn, and possibly even heal something in myself…what, however, I was not quite sure. I remember practicing with a teacher who said, “if you hate where you come from, it will be very hard to heal.” I do not want to leave the impression that I hate where I come from, but I have been at odds with it occasionally. So perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I took this as an opportunity to use writing to explore that which continues to be armored in me and to soften it somehow. I am learning a lot about myself through writing, and it always feels like vulnerable territory. But, as Brene Brown says “vulnerability is the core, the heart, and the center of meaningful human experiences." So, I am learning that writing is not about being polite. It is a practice of sharing what disturbs me both out in the world and within myself. It is an exploration of what I fear I will never know and what I fear will never cease to be. It is about writing what is true for me at a given moment in time. If I so choose, it can be about sharing private moments of beauty, nostalgia, or shame. It is about unearthing the things that have held me back and celebrating the things that have propelled me forward. It is about sharing my deep heart as a connector to other people and myself and it is definitely beyond “I’m fine, how are you!?” You may be wondering why I find it important to do this type of exercise. Well, it’s simple. As someone who is committed to Svadhyaya (self-observation) and as a Yoga therapist and educator who works with a variety of people all with different sorrows and joys, I need to know myself and what influences me. It is me practicing what I encourage others to do; to get to know yourself deeply, intimately, and truthfully. But more importantly, it is an act of self-care and love and a personal responsibility I do not take lightly. This writing prompt called "where I’m from" grew out of a writer and teacher named George Ella Lyon. It was her response to a poem from "Stories I Ain't Told Nobody Yet" (Orchard Books, 1989; Theater Communications Group, 1991) written by her friend, Tennessee writer Jo Carson. Since then, this writing prompt has been used in many amazing ways such as: family reunions, for education purposes, to aid girls in juvenile detention, and men in prison for life, and to help refugees in a camp in Sudan. For me it has been a profound revelation for a couple of reasons; one because it literally flew out of me and two, I had no idea how impressionable I have been to the images of Jamaica, my mother’s homeland. If you are inclined, I encourage you to create your own version of Lyon’s “where I’m from” poem. You can find a template here. Below is my adaptation: I am from dirty laundry, from silk and pant presses and Perc Ethelyn. I am from ancestral trauma and dysregulated nervous systems (Alarming, startling, like ancient hieroglyphic anxieties I somehow adopted as my own) I am from coconut water, and hot pink Hibiscus flowers, like the ones my mother plants on her balcony each year as a small reminder of home. I’m from Jamaican rum pudding, Fay Hope and Allan Ronald and, From Sylvia Hyacinth with cataracts so thick, she went blind. I’m from Tracy, Tracy is no good, chop her up for firewood! and “She likkle, but she tallawah!” I’m from Mary Baker Eddy and the Church of Christ, Scientist and a testimonial that brought my mother North, making me a first-generation Canadian. I’m from Victoria, beautiful British Columbia, and Kingston, Jamaica, the land of wood and water From ackee and salt fish, sweet potato pudding, and pineapple upside-down cake. I’m from my grandfather’s rage, my father’s sarcasm, cruel and cutting, and From my stepfather’s “you can be anything you put your mind to.” I’m from competition, no holds barred, from put up your dukes, and people pleasing for peace. I’m from willing and able, how can I help? and, forgiveness. I am from this, and From loyalty and so much love my heart aches. As these words flowed out of me, I realized that none of this really answers the question of “who am I.” They simply represent old stories and some of my conditioning. They certainly do not say anything about the totality of my life, my mother's kindness, my father's desire to save people as a paramedic, or the entirety of my ancestry for that matter. The words do, however, reveal some undigested fodder and some of the complexities of my lived experience. Written on another day with blue sky and sunshine my poem could sound quite different. After some reflection, I realize more than anything that what these words really reveal is “who I am not" - and that friends, always moves me in the direction of spaciousness and truth.  "Whatever you resist, persists" Carl Jung
Anyone who has lived for any length of time knows that life can be raw and messy and painful. It is full of twists and turns, peaks, and valleys and often a lot of dissatisfaction. Yes, there is a lot of beauty along the way, but despite this, we tend to gravitate toward negativity and suffering to say the least. We do all manner of things to try and stack the deck, so we are in control and comfortable. In fact, I am going to go out on a limb and say that pain and suffering (both physical and emotional) is what leads many of us to spiritual practice. Somehow, rather than simply attending to the uneasiness, we keep bobbing and weaving our way through life. It was renowned psychiatrist Carl Jung who said, “whatever you resist, persists.” Which is to say that the more we resist these painful emotions and ways of being in our lives the more it seems they show up. Enter a term called “spiritual bypassing.” Perhaps it is a sign of the times we are living in, with so much unrest socially and politically in our internal and external world, but there seems to be a resurgence and attention placed on the phrase and the process. If you are new to spiritual practices this term may be new to you, but if you have been involved in spiritual practices or community for some time, I suspect you have heard and are quite familiar with this term by now. In any case, I will provide a definition of spiritual bypassing, give some examples of what it may look like in action and provide some tools for working with it if you feel you are caught up in this cycle that is no longer serving you. In the off chance that you have not heard of “spiritual bypassing” this is a term that John Welwood coined in the early 1980’s. In his classic book, Toward a Psychology of Awakening: Buddhism, Psychotherapy, and the Path of Personal and Spiritual Transformation (2002), he described a process he saw happening in the Buddhist community and in himself. While he believed that most people were authentically attempting to work on themselves, he noticed “a widespread tendency to use spiritual ideas and practices to sidestep or avoid facing unresolved emotional issues, psychological wounds, and unfinished developmental tasks.” While John Welwood lays claim to the term, many others have also commented on this all-too-common part of our spiritual journey. For instance, psychotherapist and Yoga teacher, Mariana Caplan, began to write about this topic as she saw her clients and students become disillusioned by their spiritual teachers, communities, and practices. She suggests that spiritual bypassing can happen on all levels of spiritual development from the beginner on the path to the advanced yoga practitioner. I want to reassure you, there is nothing to be ashamed of or defensive about here, she also says, everyone does it to some degree or another. We come by it honestly in an effort to discover ourselves and in full disclosure, there have been times I have noticed it in myself; like when by dad was diagnosed with, and eventually died of cancer. I told myself things like:
I believe this narrative; I also acknowledge that there was a subtle disconnect from my emotions and the pain I did not want to feel at losing someone I loved. It was protecting me from an agony that I was unable to hold, digest or bear witness to in the initial stages of grief. While people strive to find and know themselves, many are introduced to spiritual practices and teachings and somehow are encouraged to give up personal agency and abandon themselves along the way. As a result, they end up using spiritual practices to create a new spiritual identity, which is actually an old dysfunctional identity based on avoidance of unresolved psychological issues, repackaged in a new guise (John Welwood, 2002). Here are a few of the highlights and pitfalls that this new persona can reinforce and rationalize:
Simply put, it is a type of arrested development and a sidestepping that is done to avoid the underlying pain of one’s life, rather than facing it head on and attending to what we have experienced or what is right in front of us. I want to be clear; I understand there are many reasons why spiritual bypassing may be used as a type of “shock absorber for the soul” (CS Lewis) when we do not have the capacity to hold what is painful in ourselves or others. And truth be told, you may not even realize that you are in a cycle of bypassing because it posits that it is possible spiritualize the pain and suffering away through things such as prayer, chanting, mediation, movement, and positive thinking – but at the end of the day, we can run, but we can’t hide. Eventually there will be a moment of reckoning when we are called to look in the mirror and attend to the pain. Of course, first, we need to know when we are caught up in the cycle of spiritual bypassing and observe ourselves in the act. Honestly, we may be able to see it in others before we see it in ourselves. Think back to a time you had something negative happen and you went to a Yoga class (or somewhere else) and perhaps shared it with the instructor, and they said something like, “everything happens for a reason or at some point you’ll look back and have learned something from this or God never gives us anything we can’t handle.” While this may be true on the absolute level, on the relative level, did you feel seen or heard? Did you move through the pain and suffering faster? Did you feel validated? You may still be asking what does spiritual bypassing look like in real life? Here are a few examples:
Not only can Spiritual bypassing be dangerous and harmful it tends to absolve people of taking any responsibility for their poor or destructive behaviour in the name of spiritual ideas such as:
While these examples may hold spiritual or philosophical truth, I am suggesting that when we catch ourselves relying on spiritual excuses for questionable or poor behaviour, it is an opportunity to take responsibility and accountability for our actions. Change is never easy, but here are a few tools that can be used to move you away from spiritual bypassing if this is no longer serving you. Now, I realize a couple of these tools are going to sound contrary to what I have been discussing throughout these musings but stay with me. In the initial stages of our spiritual evolution, bypassing can actually be a useful tool to point you in the direction of spirituality or spiritual principles. It can be beneficial to have something bigger than yourself when there is a feeling or a sense of scarcity to move you in the direction of generosity for example. It is hard work sifting through emotions, so sometimes a spiritual bypass can buy you the time that is needed to hold a loss that you need to grow into. It is equally important though that as one matures, and practice ripens that you catch yourself and be honest when you are using spirituality as a shield to not feel your feelings. When you can do this, you are moved into a more genuine way of being able hold and accept the complexities of life both beautiful and messy and imperfect from moment to moment. For me, even if I am not living up to my desired potential of who I am and where I want to be in life, it points me in the direction of my spiritual values, and I seem to land somewhere in the middle where I am able to learn and reflect and hold what is uncomfortable in me. Meditation is another beautiful entry into observing what is unresolved in the heart and mind. When practiced as a deep befriending of yourself rather than an escape from your life it can be miraculous. You can approach meditation with a sense of gentleness and curiosity. You can commit to developing a willingness and an interest to say with your experience in each moment, whatever that might be, rather than striving to become a perfect meditator. There is no struggle to become peaceful as you practice moment after moment to accept whatever arises. In doing so you create space in the mind that is free from judging. There are no good thoughts to cultivate or bad thoughts to banish. There is an opportunity to look honestly and objectively at the events of your life. In the space there is a chance to look at things such as spiritual pride, which is another facet of bypassing that attempts very hard to confirm that you are in fact spiritual. In this space you are presented with many options that lead to growth through the vulnerability of bearing witness to and holding your own tender heart. Finally, and probably the most conventional and profound antidote to spiritual bypassing, is to dig in and do the psychological work that it takes to digest the painful experiences in your life. Most often this is done with a qualified therapist who can help you unearth and understand unresolved developmental trauma. Everything is a mirror for the unresolved parts of ourselves we are not willing to face or acknowledge. If not attend to, relational wounds will be played out repeatedly in spiritual communities and relationships unconsciously. Psychotherapy coupled with a spiritual practice can provide the container necessary to feel whatever arises in a safe and supported way. It is not for the faint of heart, it takes honesty and often times a lot of hard emotional work, but it is a fire worth walking through. Is spiritual bypassing in and of itself bad? The short answer is, NO! In fact, John Welwood also said that spiritual bypass is a natural part of human development, and it is not only reserved just for spiritual communities. However, while it may even be less harmful than other coping strategies, it can lead to some negative outcomes that hamper personal growth and creates an inability to blossom into one’s full life potential. It is possible to attend all the spiritual retreats, read all the spiritual books, speak about spirituality all day long, chant, meditate, practice asana (physical postures) and still not work through emotional issues. Make no mistake, I do these things regularly and they continue to be exceedingly important and beneficial practices that bring tranquility and peace. They create enough space in my mind and body so I can look at things more objectively and digest the events and experiences of my life, both negative and positive. But it is possible to get stuck here driving basic human needs, wants and emotions underground. Sooner or later the proverbial chicks come home to roost and when they do, we are reminded to acknowledge and embrace our humanness alongside our spiritual aspirations to go beyond ourselves. Not only can this be liberating, “bringing these two together can be tremendously powerful” (John Welwood).  Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change ~ Wayne Dyer.
There comes a time in life when we are all called to look at death square in the eye. Although I am no stranger to funerals, this really hit home for me in 2016. In early spring of that year, my stepdad was diagnosed with “some type” of gastric cancer. It would take another month to determine the exact type and stage. The wait was agonizing for him. During the time between not knowing and knowing, I had the great fortune of taking my first trip to India. Since then, I have returned four more times. I took the image above in Varanasi at the Manikarnika Burning Ghat. A ghat is a flight of steps leading down to the river. There are 84 ghats along the banks of the sacred Ganges in Varanasi - most are used for bathing and puja (ceremony), but two are used exclusively as public cremation sites. On average, 80 cremations occur each day. During the pandemic, that number climbed to approximately 200 per day. The Hindu tradition views life and death as impermanent, whereas the soul is viewed as immortal. This means that there is an ongoing cycle of birth, growth, decay, and death (Baba Hari Dass), and then, rebirth. However, if one dies or is cremated in Varanasi, it is believed that the soul will be released from the ongoing cycle of rebirth, and the dead find the “path of the sun,” or nirvana. While there are many life lessons that I have learned from traveling in the magically complex country that is India, embracing a broader perspective around death is right up there at the top of the list. Wayne Dyer said, “Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.” Well, being in such close proximity to death on my trips to Varanasi has helped me change the way I look at death. And although I am not completely comfortable with the idea of me dying yet, it has helped me view death as a transformation of energy rather than a finality of life. So, when my dad was diagnosed with cancer in that spring of 2016, I had the privilege to support him through his cancer journey and practice a version of this newfound perspective. In that vein, this post is one part tribute, one part self-reflection, and one part Yoga for Cancer public service announcement. TRIBUTE: When someone is diagnosed with cancer, it is like their whole life gets reduced to this one event. To be clear, it is a huge deal, but even so, there remains a whole part of a person’s life that is not cancer. So, I would like to share a little about Ed Campbell’s life before his cancer journey. I referred to him as the “enlightened redneck,” because of his ability to give the sagest advice in the most blue-collar way. He came from humble beginnings, and legend has it that he was born in a boxcar. Ed played many roles; he was a husband, a brother, a father, a stepdad, a grandfather, a great grandfather, a father-in-law, an uncle, and a friend. He was a millennial parent before it was a thing; telling us four kids from as long as I can remember that we were the smartest, and best at everything we did, and that we could be anything we wanted. He was a sensitive and compassionate person who would give you the shirt off his back if he could. As a carpenter, he built and renovated more houses than I can remember. As a skilled painter he was able to travel all over the world refurbishing cruise ships. He was generous with his time and his labour, always volunteering to help family and friends with their home renovation projects. Some might have even called him a true Karma Yogi (selfless servant.) He was a creative person who loved to write both fiction and non-fiction and loved to tell stories (both fiction and non-fiction.) He loved to dance, and he loved country music. He and my mother owned a business and worked together every day for over 40 years. You may be surprised to know that right up until a couple of days before he went into hospice, he was making my mother an egg and tea every morning! He thought it was important to do something for her. It gave him a reason to get out of bed when it would have been easy to stay there. It made him feel alive and useful to continue this morning ritual. Exactly one day after my return from India, my dad and I made the first of many trips to the hospital. This was the visit where he would do testing to find out what type of cancer he had. It went something like this; my dad was tested, the diagnosis was determined, the Gastroenterologist came out and very matter-of-factly said, “It’s stomach cancer, it’s advanced and it’s in operable.” We all looked at each other in silence for a moment and then the Doctor simply walked away. Stage four stomach cancer – it was shocking news. We were secretly hoping it was colon cancer. We sat in the waiting room and cried and then he said, “maybe this can help you with your Yoga ‘stuff.’” The first question my dad had for the Oncologist was “how long do I have?” Nobody really wants to hear the answer to that question. So, when he heard the Dr. say, “about 3 months, if you do nothing, and around 10 months if you do treatment.” He made a quick decision to do palliative chemo; 8 rounds of IV chemo in combination with oral chemo and a plethora of other medications – 2 weeks on and 1 week off. Even at a reduced dosage, it was tough going. It literally felt like a death clock started ticking. According to Yoga philosophy there are five main obstacles, or Kleshas, that we humans experience throughout our life. They are Avidya (ignorance), Asmita (egoism), Raga (attachment), Dvesha (aversion) and Abhinivesha (love of life and fear of death). Arguably, my dad now faced the biggest obstacle of his life. In his commentary on the Kleshas and Abhinivesha specifically, Baba Hari Dass said “this love of life appears in all beings equally, no matter whether they are a worm or a human being, or whether the human being is foolish or wise. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, one thinks, ‘Perhaps death will not happen to me.’” The survival instinct is strong in each of us, and still it seems that some other intuition takes over when one is faced with their own mortality. Perhaps this is a remembering of the contract we make when we come into existence. I witnessed my dad digest the events of his life very quickly. He started to ask the big questions, and on one of our what he used to call “chemo dates” he said, “I wonder how you let go of life?” To which I shared that I had once heard that Baba Hari Dass said “you simply leave the body like you’re taking off an old worn overcoat.” To which he replied, “well kid, I’m not ready to take off my coat yet.” But not more than two weeks later, having already said goodbye to the bird that lived in a tree close by the house, he shared that he was no longer afraid to die. Without going in to all the gory details, I will say that Oncologists are surprisingly accurate at predicting how much time someone has left to live. After 10 months from the original prognosis, on January 22, 2017 (my mother’s birthday) he left his body peacefully, with a smile on his face, Elvis Presley softly playing in the background and me by his side silently chanting the Mrityunjaya mantra to help him on his journey. SELF REFLECTION The relationship with my stepdad was sometimes complicated. We did not always see eye to eye. In fact, we had been known to have some good ‘debates.’ However, through it all, I grew to love and respect him. He was always, and I mean always, there for me in my moments of need (and there were a few). When he was diagnosed with cancer, I came to realize each family member has their own way of coping in a crisis. It can look like denial, avoidance, the use of humour or sarcasm, or sinking into addiction. My coping mechanism is to spring into action: trying to determine what is needed and then getting it done. Since I am a Yoga Therapist specializing in Yoga for Cancer, I put on my imaginary cape and got to work. It is important to note here that supporting a loved one who had cancer gave me a whole new appreciation for my chosen field. Never having been through it myself, I understand now more than ever, I never fully grasped all the complexities that accompany a cancer diagnosis. It is one thing to theorize about it, and work with clients and students, but I did not know what I did not know. For instance, in addition to understanding medications’ side effects, having someone be an extra set of eyes and ears, and having someone to ask questions and translate the scientific jargon is a necessity. It is helpful, and sometimes even essential to have someone attend doctor appointments, keep a journal or take notes with important contact numbers and personal information (i.e., birth date, medical health # etc.) It was key to track progress or decline in appetite, weight gain and loss, and the effects of chemo and other medications from visit to visit. All this information proved to be valuable when my dad was admitted to hospice. The nurses were surprised and impressed at the amount of data I had collected. Of course, they could not have known I was afraid that I would miss something important, so I captured literally everything. To express what it means to support someone who is on a cancer journey is difficult. I cannot envision the challenges for those who must go it alone. What I came to learn first-hand is that when someone is told they have terminal cancer, the shock can be profound. The stress from receiving the news affects everything, and the body goes straight into fight or flight mode. And it is not just the cancer patient, but the whole family that is affected. The body’s response to the physical, mental, and emotional pressure is to release stress hormones. This, in turn, increases blood pressure, speeds heart rate, and raises blood sugar levels. As you may know, these physiological changes help a person act with greater muscular strength and speed to escape a perceived threat, but of course the type of strength that is required for a cancer journey is quite unique and different from outrunning a puma. This is a different type of battle, and the perceived threat never really leaves the mind. While you definitely need internal strength and fortitude, there is no amount of speed that will help you outrun the diagnosis. You can never know in advance the path your life will take, or how or when you will be called into service. I could have never known in advance that service would look like making countless trips to the oncologist’s office, to chemo appointments, CT scans and x-rays, and ensuring that blood transfusions were made available when necessary. It was important that my dad had a strong advocate to ensure that when his faith in a big medical system was challenged, he was getting exactly what he needed when he needed it. Not to mention all the deep conversations we had about questioning life and how one lets it all go. The most challenging conversation, though, was giving news we assume a daughter should never have to give. When he could no longer attend doctor’s visits, I was asked to tell him how much longer he might have left to live; it was a matter of weeks. We cried. What I understand now more than ever, is that grieving is not something that happens at the ‘end,’ when someone leaves their body. It happens all along the way - when you find out your loved one has a terminal disease, when you find out that the treatment will no longer work, and at every difficult stage in between. YOGA FOR CANCER If you were wondering whether there is really a need for Yoga for Cancer, according to the Canadian Cancer Society, there were an estimated 225,800 new cancer cases in 2020. That is an average of 617 Canadians being diagnosed with some form of cancer each day. The numbers are staggering, to say the least. I concluded early on in my yoga teaching journey, that yoga is not ‘one-size-fits-all.’ Which is to say that each person’s practice is entirely unique to them. This could not be truer for people who have cancer. Back in 2003, as a new teacher, I remember leading a class where four people, each with different types of cancer, came to practice in one class. It was a challenge to feel as if I was teaching four different classes in one, but it prompted me to become a Yoga Therapist with a specialization in cancer. Since then, I have gone on to develop and lead Yoga for Cancer workshops for Yoga teachers who want to understand more about cancer and how they can use Yoga to support their students. In order to teach Yoga to people who have cancer safely, you need to have knowledge and information. Compassion will take you a long way, but it is not enough. There are more than 100 types of cancer and many different types of treatments, such as:
Each of these treatments has side effects that can be debilitating, and which remain long after the initial treatment. For example: chemotherapy, a drug that can identify fast-growing cells, can result in hair loss, nausea, ‘chemo brain’ (confusion) and bone loss as chemo breaks down the bone building process. Chemo can cause hormonal imbalances; premature menopause (and all the symptoms that go along with that); and neuropathy, a neurological sensation in the feet (and fingers) that makes it difficult to feel the feet or hands on the floor. Surgery, on the other hand, can cause mobility issues, discomfort, fatigue, extended recovery time, scar tissue, depression, loss of range of motion, pain, digestion issues, constipation, and risk of infection. Additionally, it often causes lymph-edema - a buildup of lymph fluid in the body that cannot find its way out due to lymph node removal; and while it is manageable, it is not reversible. But there is hope! Since we Westerners need empirical proof, science continues to verify what Yogis have known since time immemorial. Research on Yoga for cancer has been taking place for several years, showing improvements in fatigue, mood, anxiety, cancer-related pain and stress, cancer-related symptoms and medication side effects, and overall quality of life. I am often asked what type of practice should be adopted by students who have cancer. Generally, without doing a full intake to determine the type and stage of cancer, treatments regimes, medications, ensuring folks are cleared to attend classes by their medical professional, it would be irresponsible to recommend a practice. It is important to remember that having cancer does not supersede other medical conditions that may need to be taken into consideration. What I do offer is this, considering that there is an imbalance of the immune system and all the side effects noted above, it is recommended that the Yoga Therapy approach should begin with a Langhana practice (restorative and detoxing), and then move onto a Brahmana (more heating) practice as the student becomes stronger. The same goes for any breathing practices. Usually, sticking to cooling and balancing breaths such as alternate nostril breathing or three-part breath, while focusing on long slow exhalations, will be beneficial. At first, the moral of the story is to relax the nervous system. Here is a short accessible cooling practice:
Even with all the treatments and Yoga for Cancer, some people will succumb to this disease. I have a firm belief in the intelligence of creation, and that just as we know how to be birthed into this world, we know how to leave it. Both ends of the spectrum are unknown; what lies beyond the entry and the exit is a mystery. Sometimes it is painful and sometimes it is graceful. In my dad’s case I am thankful it was peaceful and, dare I say, elegant. In the years since he left his body, I remain curious about his transition, and I am left with many questions. What was he smiling at when he departed? What did he see? Who was there to greet him? Where did he go? Because one thing is for sure, one moment it was clear he was in his body, and next, he was gone. To be sure, our relationship was not always perfect, but he was a good and loving teacher. I believe he taught me what mattered most in this life and even in death I continue to reflect on what I have learned from him. He taught me to shoot for the stars and reminded me that it is important to think outside the box, to be creative, and to improvise and unapologetically enjoy this one life we have. He taught me that it is important to stay curious, and fight for what you believe in. He taught me it is really important to be kind to people, especially those less fortunate. He taught me that family always comes first, we are allowed to make mistakes, let each other off the hook and the real kicker, that love does not always look like you expect it to look. In retrospect, it seems strange to call bearing witness to my dad’s death a gift. He allowed me to be present for one of the most intimate and possibly frightening and mysterious moments on the human continuum. He showed me it can be done with grace. The sheer fact that he seemed fully surrendered and accepting and not at all fearful and was an important lesson for me. It shifted something in me and for that I have nothing but gratitude. His death invited me to look at my fear around my own mortality head on, something we all must do at some point. I feel his energetic presence and even hear his voice in my head sometimes when I feel the need of support and I am reminded “goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul, there is no such thing as separation ~ Rumi.”  “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”
One thing I can say with a high degree of certainty, is that human beings are complicated. The pairs of opposites are alive and well in each of us. Yoga tells us the sensory world is characterized by pairs of opposites (dvandvas): heat and cold, light and dark, male and female, positive and negative, honor and insult, success and failure (Yoga International). We have the power cast much light, and yet we also have the power to cause much pain. Before jumping to the conclusion “not me,” all we need do is turn on our TV, read a newspaper or look at social media to bear witness to the ways we hurt one another in small and unthinkable ways. In fact, at the writing of these “musings” the remains of 215 Indigenous children have just been discovered buried beneath a former residential school. Without minimizing this tragic event, I am sure we can all agree, we hurt each other. Then of course there the wounds we receive in our family of origin. These can be passed on from generation to generation. They are pain unlike any other, and the emotional or actual scars can run deep. Each of us have our own story of how things did not go quite “right” on our parent’s watch. If we are not careful, we can end up living our life through the lens of these painful memories, and nursed grudges. All this heartache has got me thinking about the fine art of forgiveness; how difficult it is for the ego, why it is in our best interest to do it, and how the practice of Yoga can help us navigate these frequently uncharted waters. When you hear the word “forgiveness,” what does it feel like, and where does the mind go? Perhaps it brings up feelings of righteous indignation, or a fear of losing the battle. At times, you may even go so far as to build an army of support in your efforts to “hold the line.” Many people have been quoted as saying “holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” It is a losing proposition. Does, holding onto anger do you expect it will do? Reflect for a moment on the times you have held on to anger for dear life and felt free. Can you think of any? I can’t! We can spend our whole lifetime holding on to resentment or rehashing an argument, looking at it from different angles, and rehearsing a monologue that may never be shared with anyone but yourself. EGO and FORGIVENESS: We could simply look at the negative aspect of ego as someone who is full of themselves, but of course the ego is much more than that. It is a collection of thoughts and stories of who I believe myself to be, which may or may not be rooted in reality. In Yogic terms, the ego is defined as Ahamkara or the sense of and the over identification with “I-ness.” Eckhart Tolle defines the ego as a dysfunctional relationship with the present moment which consists of compulsive, conditioned thought processes. In either case, the ego is the part of us that is largely responsible for all the pain and suffering in our lives. It holds onto painful baggage, makes us jealous, has us lash out in anger and is the part of us that wants to make us right and others wrong. Let us be honest, the ego can be fragile, but it also needs to be pointed out that we need the ego to function in the world. When it is quiet, there is a sense of healthy self-esteem, and we are able to recognize our limitations. It can help us grow, express vulnerability, and help us take responsibility for our actions. However, when it is not quiet, which is to say that when we over identify with the ego, it is an obstacle on the Yogic path and in life. The unrefined ego has an extremely thin manifesto, in which it is trying to: be as comfortable as possible; be on the lookout for danger; be right at all costs; operate from a place of defensiveness; and attempt to get others to confess their faults. Something like, “You hurt me, now say you’re sorry.” Of course, when the apology does come, the ego only experiences a short-term reprieve from suffering, as it often does nothing to uproot the original hurt. Simply put, the unrefined ego continuously views the world as though it is being repeatedly attacked by other egos. It is like an egoic pinball machine, continually bouncing off the flippers and the walls, but not as fun. Suffice to say, the ego does not like anything that feels like it may destabilize its very survival. When Baba Hari Dass was asked, what is forgiveness? He responded “forgiveness is forgetting the past actions of some outer agency which created pain in life and not feeling the least amount of anger or hatred toward the person. As long as our ego is strong, we cannot learn to forgive. We always defend our ego and are ready to take revenge in any circumstances.” If the ego is so determined to be victorious at all costs, you might be asking, how can we get it on board with forgiveness? As Eckhart Tolle says one of the first things we can do is, “simply become aware of when the ego is shows up.” Your next question might be when it does show up, how would you recognize it? Tolle also shares, “you can be sure it has arrived when you are busy attaching verbal or mental labels to situations, and people, becoming more critical and deadened to reality.” It takes dedicated practice, over a long period of time, to refine the ego to a place where the idea of experiencing, or asking for forgiveness, beyond the superficial, is even possible. It takes time to arrive at a place where we can embody true compassion and realize that hurt egos, hurt egos. Once we arrive at this place though, an opportunity for real forgiveness opens within us. At the end of the day, we can only forgive to the degree to which we are conscious and present. Only then will we recognize that anything a person perpetrates against another is done out of a deep level of unconsciousness. The deeper the offence, the deeper the unconsciousness. And while this does not give anyone a green light to cause harm to another, it does provide context: people do what they know, and when they know better, they do better. I will be the first to admit, it can be difficult to acknowledge and take responsibility when we cause harm to another. It is an intricate quagmire built on grief, shame, guilt, and embarrassment. This requires more than simply saying “I’m sorry” and moving on. This requires a certain level of ego fitness, deep self-reflection (Svadhyaya) and acknowledgement of the “wrongdoing” on how one’s actions have negatively impacted another. It is the essence of true reparation and like developing any new skill, it takes practice and courage and it is healing. BENEFITS OF FORGIVENESS: While there might not be a hard and fast formula on how one should forgive, I am inviting us to explore the notion that when we hold onto anger and resentment, we suffer. There is a cost. Our tender hearts, despite having the capacity to hold so much pain and carry such burdens, pay a price. Holding onto anger and resentment continues to uphold the ego’s manifesto. Although it may feel satisfying on some level, living with this type of stress does nothing good for our physical or mental health. There are many accounts which show that holding a grudge may have even more negative effects than the issue which caused it. According to the Mayo Clinic, chronic stress has many adverse effects on the nervous system such as:
If that is not enough incentive to move us in the direction of forgiveness, a grudge held onto has the potential to bring its anger and bitterness into every relationship, and to darken new experiences. On the other hand, when we can forgive or be forgiven and let go of anger and resentment, we create a pathway for improved peace of body and mind, and for healing to occur. Here the Mayo Clinic lists a slew of health benefits which forgiving someone can bring to our life:
YOGA PHILOSOPHY TOOLS FOR FORGIVENESS: I want to be clear; I am not suggesting for a minute that we should confuse forgiveness with approval, acceptance, or denial of a traumatic event. If you are struggling through difficulty, I encourage you to seek support and get the help you need. If we are so inclined though, we may look no further than the Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra for guidance on forgiveness. At first glance, they can seem overwhelming, academic, inaccessible, and slightly out of reach. However, if we look at this philosophy as a tool to navigate our day-to-day lives, they reveal themselves in a different way. Patanjali makes it very clear that that there will be pain in life, but he is also clear that suffering is optional. From the very beginning of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra, we are welcomed into exploring how each of us can have a relationship with the present. Rather than being imprisoned by our past or seduced by the idea that life will be better in the future, we are encouraged to flow with the grace of the moment. Sutra 1:1 starts by simply inviting us into the “now” or “atha,” a blessing and reminder that life only happens in the here and now, and in this place, joy is experienced, and suffering is lessened. It is not lost on me that this is easier said than done. At the end of the day forgiveness, much like love, is a verb; it is an action. It is an active choice we make to let someone off the hook, to drop the story, and to deliberately release feelings of anger, resentment, or vengeance. If we dig a little deeper, Sutra 1:12 introduces Abhyasa (practice) and Vairagya (dispassion, non-attachment, absence of desire) and reaffirms the importance of Nirodhah (controlled, restrained, blocked) regarding calming the thoughts, which I believe are at the core of forgiveness. Abhyasa is the quiet commitment and persistent effort that we make to remain in practice and harmony. This sutra helps us recognize that finding peace is not for the faint of heart, and like any other muscle that gets stronger by lifting weights, it can only be reached by dedicated and consistent practice. While there are many interpretations, I have read that the word Abhyasa comes from a combination of two root words: “as” meaning “to throw,” and “abhi” meaning “towards.” So, it could be said that Abhyasa is to continually practice throwing oneself towards wholeness, peace, and forgiveness. In Sutra 1:33 we are invited to explore another practical tool by what Baba Hari Dass calls cultivating feelings of love for the happy, compassion for the suffering, delight for the virtuous, and indifference for the non-virtuous. These four concepts are genuine methods that can help navigate the human condition. It shows us how to navigate jealousy, grief, and our reactions to people we think are being too good! But it is the last method, “indifference for the non-virtuous,” that is the kicker. This points to how we are to respond to people who have done wrong and are less than kind. When we feel we were mistreated, we come to accept that we cannot control the behaviour of others. We can learn to work with our own conditioning and our reactions first. The idea of indifference is quite different than dispassion. It does not mean we ignore the wrong deed, rather it means that we learn to respond more skillfully and cultivate kindness and compassion in our own body and mind first. To become more response-able, rather than reactive, takes time. In full disclosure, I must confess that after many years of practice of exploring my ego, knowing all the health benefits, and studying the philosophy, it has not always been easy for me to let things go. The truth is depending on the “violation” at the hands of another or myself, sometimes things can still take a long time to digest. Like you, I am a work in progress. The process of unpacking what I am holding on to, identifying where it sits in my body, and finding the appropriate tool (Yogic or otherwise) to help loosen the grip of whatever has got me has at times been a complicated puzzle. I want to assure you though, a forgiveness practice does not need to be complicated. Sometimes it is a simple as moving the body through a couple of sun salutations or getting close to the ground, lying on your back with hands on the belly and breathing. It could be walking in nature. At other times it might be a prayer like this one: Buddhist Forgiveness Prayer:
When you are stuck in emotional quicksand, and you find yourself reliving an old wound or becoming triggered or hurt from a new one – rest assured relief is as close as these words. With practice we realize what has become contracted and small. The instant we notice this and are brought back to presence, to the breath and to spaciousness, can be a moment of quiet celebration. This is the “field beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing” that the mystic poet Rumi writes about. "I'll meet you there."  What’s love got to do with it?” Tina Turner
As I am sitting down to write about how upset I am this week upon hearing more people of colour being killed at the hands of the police, I have Tina Turner’s song “What’s love got to do with it” rolling around in my head. I mean, it is unrelenting. It will not stop! Perhaps it is because I have had several conversations recently about the importance of centering love at the heart of all actions and I have just finished teaching a Yoga class that was themed around love: the importance of cultivating self-love as the foundation for loving others. If you are unaware of this song, it is from 1984. Since I like words, I googled the lyrics and am surprised that my 2021 self sees that they are somewhat cynical, to say the least. The words speak to me about distrust and pain, and past disappointments. The line “who needs a heart, when a heart can be broken” is a common narrative in music and in life. The unwavering message it sends is that love hurts! Many of us have been confused about love for our entire lives. We are conditioned to act as if love is a transaction - giving something to get something in return or withholding something if something is not received. If we are being honest, I suspect we have all been there at one time or another. It is messy and painful and dare I say, boring. This type of “love” reminds me of an excerpt from Rumi’s poem: Subtle degrees of domination and servitude are what you know as love But love is different It arrives complete Just there Like the moon in the window Whether aware or not, many of us spend our lives looking for a source of love that is enduring and cannot be taken away. I am reflecting on when Baba Hari Dass was asked, “how does one participate in loving others?” he answered “one can’t love anyone until love is established within. Love is a pure state of mind where self-interest ceases all together.” Clearly, this is a not what would normally be considered a romantic or transactional type of love. What is being pointed to here is tricky in the early stages of practice. If not vigilant, I acknowledge that even after many years of practice, it can still be tricky (my family can attest to that.) If we have not cultivated a loving attitude towards ourselves this teaching may be at the very least, a challenge. Often when we embark on the Yoga journey we are in some type of physical or emotion pain and suffering. Our Yoga classes encourage us to let everything go, to love everyone, and that it is all love and light. The maiden voyage is smooth sailing for a time and we get a reprieve from the pain that life inevitably throws our way. The power of Yoga opens us to new possibilities of being and seeing the world. However, if one sticks with the practice long enough, we find that eventually things take an interesting twist and we come face to face with our conditioning. We come face to face with all the less than kind ways we treat ourselves and each other; like negative self-talk, how much anger we have, how we self-medicate with food or alcohol or____________ (fill in the blank). Make no mistake, I believe that absolute, unconditional love is at the heart of Yoga. I would say, besides peace, if there was a goal in Yoga, unconditional love might be it. I wonder though, how difficult it is to experience unconditioned love and remain there in a sustainable way if we have not yet, at the very least, cultivated an attitude of basic goodness towards ourselves. Perhaps more accessible, is another important teaching from Baba Hari Dass, which is to “Love everyone, including yourself. This is real sadhana.” Babaji reminds us to not abandon ourselves or one another. So, how do we go about loving ourselves? How can we move towards unconditioned, transaction free love of others? Depending on our life circumstances, the answers to these questions will be different for different people. Nevertheless, we can begin by simply acknowledging that the most intimate relationship that we will ever have is with our own self. SMALL STEPS TO DEVELOPING SELF LOVE: Each of us can learn the fine art of nourishing self-love and happiness. As Thich Nhat Hanh says everything needs food to live, even love. This is not an exhaustive list, but we can begin to develop love by experimenting with a few small steps:
METTA MEDITATION: If meditation interests you, the Metta Meditation is a beautiful accessible practice. This practice uses prayer like a Mantra. The word Mantra in Buddhism means “mind protecting” and prevents the mind from getting up to its usual mechanics. This practice gives a simple, direct way to help cultivate the quality of love in your own heart:
ASANA (PHYSICAL PRACTICE): When it comes to opening the heart through an asana (physical) routine; I suggest keeping it soft and quiet. However, if you are working on strengthening your resolve, you may want to add a couple of loving warriors. In any case, don’t move the way fear makes you move, move the way love makes you move, move the way joy makes you move (Osho.) Here is a short, sweet and accessible practice:
THICH NHAT HANH’S ELEMENTS OF TRUE LOVE: Learning the fine are of loving another is also a practice. In his book How to Love, Thich Nhat Hanh teaches that true love is made of four elements:
Both Baba Hari Dass and Thich Nhat Hanh teach something similar; it is personal. We must start with ourselves first by “purifying” the mind and attend to our own suffering before we can love fully and without self-interest. Through these practices we learn that love is an organic living thing that needs tending and watering, much like a garden. When we take this level of responsibility for our own well-being, love becomes a healer. I want to underscore this takes time and perseverance and lots of humility but exploring practices that open the heart is a worthy endeavor. As I come to the end of these musings, I am still disturbed about what initially led me to write this post. I notice however, that even writing about the transformative power of these practices has soothed my heart and mind. My breath is deeper, and I have more space in my consciousness and my heart to hold the complexities and contradictions of life at the same time. Tina Turner’s song “what’s love got to do with it” is still rolling around in my head – and to that I say, everything. Love has everything to do with it!  “No matter how revolutionary the practice of Yoga is, it is not helpful if we continue to limit certain folks from participating.”
While many have been contemplating the arrival of spring, I have been contemplating privilege and oppression; especially in the context of Yoga. I view these concepts much like Purusha (pure consciousness) and Prakriti (matter, or that which is created), in that they can be examined separately, but they are inextricably linked together. In this same way, privilege and oppression are dubious neighbours - opposites which work in lockstep with each other. I am specifically interested in exploring gatekeeping (more on this in a moment) and accessibility to Yoga and spiritual communities – you know, who’s invited to the party, but more importantly, who’s not. How easy is it for black, indigenous, and people of colour (BIPOC) to attend classes, do teacher trainings, or attend conferences? Who is it that is allowing this access? If we choose to undertake this mission, then, when we consider privilege, we are also compelled to examine oppression, and all the ways in which we do, and especially do not, invite participation into these spaces. Those of us who have dedicated ourselves to practicing and teaching Yoga know the profound power it possesses. Yoga assists with the simple (or, often, not so simple) ability to lean into the discomfort of the human condition. Yoga and Yogic philosophy can teach us how to make friends with life at the very least and, at best, help us to transcend our suffering and experience liberation. If we follow just the simple instruction of paying attention to the breath, of following the inhalation and exhalation, then we can come to understand how the air that enters our body is transformed by some alchemical process into prana (life force.) With the magic of grace, our internal world and mind are softened; even transformed. And perhaps we, for just a few minutes, are free. We learn over time that the freedom found within these simple practices can be revolutionary. But no matter how revolutionary the practice of Yoga is, it is not helpful if we continue to limit certain folks from participating. I wholeheartedly believe in the importance and the responsibility of maintaining a formal seated and physical Yoga practice. I am equally interested in how I can live Yoga “off the mat,” and how I can educate others to do the same. At the heart of this practice is the exploration of right alignment between oneself and society (the Yamas): developing the skills to be able to honour someone else’s experience and acknowledging how we each play a pivotal role with one another. For me, nothing exemplifies this more accurately than the following poem by the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hahn: You are me, and I am you. Isn’t it obvious that we “inter-are”? You cultivate the flower in yourself, so that I will be beautiful. I transform the garbage in myself, so that you will not have to suffer. I support you; you support me. I am in this world to offer you peace; you are in this world to bring me joy. We may consider right alignment between oneself and society as “refining” ourselves, by polishing our own rough edges and applying the practices defined in the Yamas of non-harming, truthfulness, non-possessiveness, non-hoarding, and the right use of energy. And slowly but surely, we come to realize how our individual actions impact the other. So, I am inviting us to recognize that there are some folks who continue to be excluded from these practices, because of a little something called “gatekeeping.” If you are unfamiliar with the term “gatekeeping,” allow me to share a couple of definitions with you:
Simply put, gatekeepers assess who is "in or out." (Wikipedia) We often see gatekeepers as people who hold legitimate or sanctioned power, like a president, a judge, or a doctor. However, we all guard different gates to greater or lesser degrees. We guard gates overtly and we guard gates unconsciously. “We are all micro gatekeepers” (Michelle Johnson). In our daily life we gate-keep in many ways and I want to be clear it is not all bad. In fact, often is very necessary. For example, I guard a variety of gates for my elderly mother, ensuring her well-being financially, medically, and sometimes emotionally. If you have young children, you may guard gates by limiting access to electronic devices by controlling what is watched and for how long. But gatekeeping can also become problematic. For instance, when we micromanage someone’s work product or constantly criticize the way our partner parents the children or looks after the pets. What are some of the positive and/or negative ways that gatekeeping shows up in your life? We also see gatekeepers in spiritual communities. Spiritual gatekeepers may be self-appointed and/or in positions of leadership that determine:
It must be noted that in the examples above such as costing classes, etc. does need to be done and is not inherently bad. But we do need to look at how it is being done, who it is inviting in and who it is excluding. Perhaps even more problematic, spiritual gatekeepers may take it upon themselves to set arbitrary standards that define what devotion looks like, who is devoted, and more concerning, who is not. This type of gatekeeping has the stench of spiritual superiority. Baba Hari Dass, wrote, “As soon as a person starts thinking, 'I want to be a better person,' that is the start of Yoga.” For me this statement is so inclusive and welcoming. It leaves it up to the individual to be their own gatekeeper and determine what being a “better person” means and therefore what devotion might look like for them rather than it being decided by an external authority. Do not misunderstand me. I believe in the importance of healthy boundaries. They create safety and respect between self and others and individuals and organizations. A gate can be a legitimate boundary that needs to be respected. There is a place for gatekeeping in Yoga practices for instance. Take the methods of pranayama (breathing techniques). It is important that students be prepared physiologically with beginning breathing techniques prior to moving on to intermediate practices, under the guidance of a qualified teacher. The same can be said for Yoga Teacher Training curriculum. It is important that it be taught in an organized manner, that it can be clearly understood and digested, so the student is being afforded the best learning outcomes. We have an invitation here to be transparent about positions of power and leadership in spiritual communities. Let us keep reflecting on how folks in these positions often become the gatekeepers of this revolutionary path to freedom, and that this can have a very real and damaging impact on the ability of another to access this path, or to become part of a Yogic or other spiritual community. Finally, I will leave you with three questions that I was left with during a recent workshop:
We have a responsibility to one another. The philosophical teachings of Yoga as set out in Yamas are all about relationship with self and society and so, at their core, they are also about social justice. My deep prayer is for those of us who have been fortunate enough to walk through an open gate, keep it propped open for those behind us, who have not been given such easy access. Because, as Fannie Lou Hamer, a women’s rights activist during the civil rights movement beautifully put it, “nobody’s free until everybody's free.”  "Life can only be understood backward but must be lived forward -Kierkegaard"
We are coming to the end of black history month. I have spent much of this month attempting to “locate” myself. You see, I am in the midst of reclaiming myself, and putting me together feels like a literal re-membering; it has required deep reflection, study and acknowledgement of the actual physical and metaphorical parts of me that have been cut off, long forgotten or simply dismissed. In fact, a recent conversation with a family member revealed they were surprised to hear that I identify as a black woman. This is not a new narrative to me; I have lived with this my entire life. The thing is, “I do identify with being black, and if people do not identify me that way, that is their issue. I am happy to challenge people's understanding of what it looks like to be biracial (Rashida Jones).” So, I am asking myself (and my family members) the big questions about my own history. Who were my people? Who are these ancestors that walk beside me? Who is it that I carry in my being? I am following Kierkegaard’s lead in that life can only be understood backward but must be lived forward. I am working on healing my ancestral lines. It is a dynamic and sometimes painful process. Part of my re-membering has been to look back in time and not only look at the alignment of the stars, but to reflect on the energetic climate of the world I was about to enter at birth. While there are many powerful black Canadians that I could reflect on, it is significant for me to imagine that at the time I was preparing to enter the world in April 1963, Martin Luther King Jr. was in jail, along with 50 other civil rights protesters. While in solitary confinement on April 16th, he penned the Letter from the Birmingham Jail one of the most important letters of his time, in the margins of a newspaper. It is the letter where he wrote, “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Imagine that, while I was being birthed into existence in the wee hours of April 17th, Dr. King Jr. was writing about civil rights, equity, and inclusion. I believe that was the energetic climate I was entering at birth – it is in me. With the help of my family, I have been able to trace my ancestors back to Jamaica, 1855. Although I do not have many stories, there is one that sticks out as especially significant; my ancestors were enslaved people, but they also enslaved people. I wish I had more of the story to share with you, but from what I understand, the plantation owner was from England, he had sons with enslaved women, and then had to return to England. From what I can gather, when he returned to England, he left the plantation to his sons, and those men are my ancestors. In fact, before hearing this story, I had often joked that as a bi-racial person, I contain both the oppressed and the oppressor in this one body. Imagine, for a moment, the karmic imprint that living with this type of narrative leaves on the soul. These are the stories I carry in the tissues of my body. In the mid 1990’s, at the height of some profound anxiety attacks (ones where I felt I was going to die about 5 times per day for a year or so), I began to study Buddhism and Yoga. Although it did not happen overnight, anxiety is a distant memory. Over time the practices provided a sweet refuge for me and offered me a reprieve from suffering. The physical practice allowed me to move and remove blocked energy through and from my body, while the meditation practice gave me the discipline and structure I needed to work with my mind. From this, I developed a deep, compassionate commitment to myself, to my well-being, and to something beyond myself: the desire for freedom for all beings. You might be asking, what does my ancestral history have to do with Yoga or Buddhism? I think the bigger question we should be asking is, what does it mean for Black, Indigenous, or People of Color (BIPOC) folks to practice Yoga in predominantly white Yoga spaces, or spiritual communities? What does it mean for BIPOC folks to bring along an individual and collective history of racial trauma, and not be able to discuss the pain of that history within their spiritual community? As many of you know, we are often - in society and in spiritual communities - encouraged to bypass the ugly stuff. We do not see colour and we are all one, right!? Please, do not misunderstand me, at the “absolute” level I do believe we are all connected, but on the “relative” level, I am very conscious that we are in different bodies, with different skin, and are treated very differently based on this. I have spent the last few weeks taking workshops and listening to Dharma talks taught almost exclusively by black teachers. I am not going to lie; it has been refreshing to be part of a conversation that acknowledges a collective accounting of deep, deep pain. The racial type of ancestral pain. To be honest, I had no idea I needed this. I had no idea that we, as BIPOC folks, hold an individual and collective trauma so deep in our bones, we often do not even know it is there. I had no idea I needed to re-member parts of myself that I did not know were missing. How could I not have noticed that my arm, one of my eyes, my ear, or one of my kidneys was missing for all these years? Is this what it is like to live with internalized racism?? Attending these offerings was like being sewn back together, suture by meticulous suture, one beautiful and profound teaching at a time. I have been longing to have an honest conversation about Yoga and racial inclusion for a long time. So, I am throwing down the gauntlet, the glove, and the chicken foot! It is that important. If you are a Yoga studio owner, if you are part of a spiritual community, I urge you to open the type of dialogue that generates the heat of “tapas” – the tension and friction needed for change. Challenge your thinking around what racial inclusion means, what it truly looks like, and what you will do to make your spaces and teaching faculty more inclusive and representative of BIPOC. If you are not clear on how to start the conversation, I invite you to educate yourself. Attend workshops and read books by BIPOC facilitators and authors. Talk to your peers and colleagues about what, if anything, they are doing to become more accessible and inclusive. More importantly, develop relationships with the people and groups you want to include and find out what they need. Like all change, this conversation is not going to be comfortable, but this tension is needed to get us to where everyone has a place to practice in which they feel safe, welcome and at home. This time calls for more than silence and simply bearing witness to inequity and injustice, it is time for action now. While we have this conversation, it is important for all of us to find the tools and practices to resource ourselves. This will help support us while we are learning to face and withstand the uncomfortable truth that has been present for so long for many BIPOC. Beautiful people, it is time to do some deep healing: individually, socially, and institutionally. With the heart of compassion and Ahimsa (nonviolence), consider the possibility that not creating more accessibility and inclusivity in Yoga and Buddhist spaces and spiritual communities is causing further trauma. BIPOC folks need a place to practice, to heal and reclaim and re-member themselves alongside teachers and other practitioners that resemble them. Please bear in mind that trauma is impactful for both the victim and the perpetrator. In the spirit of connection, we must remember it is impossible to cause trauma to others without causing trauma to yourself! In the end everybody is harmed by it. May all beings be safe, peaceful and free of suffering.  They say these are strange times we are living in. I must agree. With the ongoing political and social climate, it is sometimes tough to keep the shiny side up. Today, I am opening my first musings post with a quote by Eldridge Cleaver: “The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.” He was a son, a brother, a husband, a father and an early leader of the Black Panther Party and, in full transparency, he was a convicted felon. This quote has stuck with me since I first read Soul on Ice (a memoir and collection of essays written while he was in prison); I was sixteen. I have a deep belief in people’s ability to change, forgiveness, redemption, and the teachings, wherever they come from. Small talk has never been my forte. I am a person who is comfortable living in the weeds of the human condition, while keeping my heart open and the big picture in perspective. I hope this sets the tone for what I would like to share. A couple of months ago, I had a beautiful walk into downtown Victoria, my hometown in BC, Canada. I was born here, 57 years ago, and I have called Victoria home now for 30 years. Getting outside when the weather permits has become especially important during the pandemic. On my journey, I bumped into an acquaintance that I see from time to time. We had a conversation about the state of our community and the world. He asked many questions; including two that normally offend me, such as the age-old suspects:
So, rather than put on my battle gear, I took a breath, connected with my heart, and did my best to respond as kindly and with much as much compassion as possible. I am still learning too. It has been said that when you know better, you do better – it was a moment to educate. "The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character – that is the goal of true education." – Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. You may be wondering why the first question is problematic. As if being born in Victoria, or Canada for that matter, was somehow not possible because of my skin color. According to the Harvard Business Review, asking someone, “Where are you from?” can seem like a very innocuous question, but can quickly turn into a microaggression. It reduces someone’s identity to a social group, a city, or a culture, and that can trigger feelings of alienation. Microaggressions can also reinforce differences and magnify unequal power structures. As for why the second question is problematic, in a word: colonization! Colonization has systemically marginalized Indigenous people from mainstream society and has had a profound and disruptive impact on health, socio-economic welfare, and access to healthcare services, and don't get me started about the lack of clean drinking water. Enough said. During our conversation, I learned he was from Southern Africa and was no stranger to privilege and racist ideology. George Floyd had just been murdered. Many of us witnessed the horror of him having his innate right to breath denied, and on national television, no less. I had recently attended my first Black Lives Matter (BLM) rally and heard the familiar cries of “all lives matter.” Of course, if all lives really mattered, we would not have been there that day. Let me be clear, I agree, life in all its forms do matter. However, in relation to BLM, saying "all lives matter" really derails the very important discussion that needs to be had about how Black, Indigenous, people of color (BIPOC) and communities are affected by racism. It's like watching your neighbour's house going up in flames and saying "yes, but all houses matter." (Kris Straub). But I digress. Toward the end of our walk, he asked me "how do you stay so positive!?" I told him that for the better part of 25 years, I have been extremely fortunate to have adopted a strong daily Yoga practice (Sadhana) which includes Pranayama (breathing practices) Meditation, Asana (physical practice) and other Yogic principles such as the Yamas (attitudes and relationships toward our environment) and Niyamas (attitudes and relationship toward ourselves.) This practice has been an invitation that enables me to observe my internal mental landscape in relation to my external world; I use the word “my'' because each of us have our own conditioning by which we see things. It is from that place that I choose to live. I have a deep commitment to the truth (Satya), so I added, "the conditions aren’t always perfect, believe me it's not always comfortable being me." We had a little laugh, but I have sat with this conversation in the months since. As a bi-racial POC, I continue to be curious (Svadhyaya) about how I remain positive in the face of all of the unbelievable suffering? Well, the truth is, sometimes I’m not. My teacher Baba Hari Dass always said (and I am paraphrasing) “whatever the problem, regular sadhana is the answer.” I understand this more than ever now. The ability to remain optimistic while at the same time feeling absolutely outraged, angered, and gutted by the current political and social climate speaks highly to the transformative power of a consistent Yoga practice (Abhyasa); should one choose to take the mission. Especially when your practice has been maintained over a long period of time. So, I invite you into practice; become an alchemist. Turn your outrage and anger into gold. Practice (Sadhana) continues to teach me that anger and outrage are perfectly natural emotions full of wisdom. I have learned to welcome and even befriend them, so as not to be pinned to the floor, and learn from them. This is where the alchemy happens, when transmuted, these emotions can become a positive energy that can and does change the world. From this perspective we are welcomed into living a life of non-violence (Ahimsa), or at the very least, less-violence. And although sometimes it does not appear like it, we are witnessing people “waking up” to this. I hope you will join me and discover that you are the universal elixir that is needed during these times and then go out into the world and start, or continue, the challenging and beautiful work that is reserved for you (Dharma). |
Hello, beautiful people. My name is Tracy Chetna Boyd (she/her). Among other things, I am a Yoga educator and Yoga Therapist, with a special interest in Yoga for Cancer. Although I have many teachers, my primary teacher is Baba Hari Dass. I have a deep belief in people’s ability to change, forgiveness, redemption, and the teachings, wherever they come from. Small talk has never been my forte. I am a person who is comfortable living in the weeds of the human condition, while keeping my heart open and the big picture in perspective. I hope this sets the tone for the musings I'll be sharing from time-to-time.
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