I am still in Belize, and now at a luxury eco resort, to teach yoga. This resort is situated on a huge private property (more than 7000 acres), which makes it ideal for hiking and bird watching. Which is really cool, if you are into hikes or birds, or both. Unfortunately, most of the guest are birdwatchers. Nothing wrong with birdwatchers, don’t get me wrong, but they are not so much into yoga. Which leaves me with a lot of free time. And I like hiking. So I guess it’s all good.

The only thing is, this property is in the tropics, and tropics means snakes. I don’t like snakes. I am afraid of snakes. (I don’t like to say that I hate snakes. First of all because I don’t like to use the word “hate”, but secondly because it seems unfair.  I mean, it is not the snake’s fault that it is the way it is.) Anyways, it makes me wonder if I should go hiking and run the risk encountering a snake on my way. I decide that I cannot have my fear control my life, and go for the hike.

At the start of the trail I find a nice sturdy stick that I take with me. I use it as a walking stick, which helps to maintain my balance when the trail gets slippery or steep. I poke it under leaves to make sure that there are no unexpected creatures in my way. It also comes in handy to wipe away spider webs that hang over the trail. Despite my armor, I am not totally relaxed. I keep thinking about the snakes. You know, that pink elephant thing. I am watching the ground all the time and don’t really dare to look around too much. I am thinking about my fear and how to deal with it. I realize it is something in my head, and that it is not really based on any realistic threat. I mean, I am not going to die from seeing a snake, and it is highly unlikely that I will accidentally step on one. “This is ridiculous. I need some distraction”, I tell myself. I start chanting. I chant out loud. The chanting helps to keep the thoughts away. And the meaning of the chant is empowering by itself. Oh, and did I mention that all the noise I make will scare away the snakes? (“Or are snakes deaf?”, I wonder…)

“Ganesha Sharanam, Sharanam Ganesha”. “Lord of Wisdom and remover of obstacles, please protect me.” “Ganesha Sharanam, Sharanam Ganesha, Ganesha Sharanam, Sharanam Ganesha…”. I drum my walking stick on the rhythm of the chant. This is fun. I feel much better. “Ganesha Shara… Uugggh, what the….!” I forget to watch where I am going and walk with my face right into a spider web. Hahaha! I laugh out loud. I am doing my best to avoid one thing but then get it back right in my face. I absorb the message and continue cheerfully. I feel the fear dissipating.

And then, when I come off the trail out onto the (unpaved) road, there it is. A snake. It is dead. A car has driven over it. What are the odds? There are only a handful of cars on this huge terrain. I feel sorry for the snake. I even take a picture of it. “But wait a minute, how can I feel sorry for and be afraid of something at the same time? That doesn’t make sense at all.” It occurs to me again that the fear is just a thought, and doesn’t have anything to do with reality. Feeling sorry seems much more real to me. I am not scared anymore.

The rest of my hike is magical. I pass along crystal clear creeks and splashing waterfalls. I swim in blue natural pools and climb over foot bridges made of tree trunks. I sit to eat my lunch without worrying about any other creatures. I almost hope I meet another snake. Alive this time…

Let’s do yoga tomorrow and go on another hike!

Namaste,

Marije

Yogas citta vrtti nirodhah. This second Sutra of Patanjali is often translated as: Yoga is stilling the fluctuations of the mind. Or, as I have learned in the Kripalu Yoga tradition: yoga is learning to associate with the seer who resides beyond the language of the mind. It took me a while to memorize this full phrase, let alone to begin to understand its meaning. It is, however, for me one of the most interesting things about practicing yoga. The fact, that by consciously using the breath in physical exercise (i.e. practicing yoga asanas) we can learn to observe our thoughts from a distance (and without judgment). This is one of the reasons why I am passionate about teaching gentle yoga classes. I think that it is easier to become aware of our thoughts when we are not struggling to bend ourselves in an advanced yoga pose (because then the mind most likely is just focused on the physicality of the posture). While doing some relatively simple stretching there is an opportunity to witness what our mind is going through.

Having said that, I have come to realize that also the physically more challenging yoga practice is a great way to get acquainted with our thought process and use that in our favor. Let me explain.

Imagine you are practicing a balancing pose that not only involves standing on one leg, but also the opening of your shoulder and hip joint, as well as a back bend. (For the connaisseur, think: Natarajana.)    You lift your left leg, and right away you feel you are starting to wobble. You press your right foot firmly into your mat and engage the whole leg. Good, you regain your balance. You tell yourself that you can do this. That seems to help. Then you bend your left knee and grasp your ankle on the outside with your left hand. You push your foot in your hand while stretching your left arms backwards and your left shoulder opens. You try to keep your right leg straight and steady. You almost loose your balance again. You press your left foot further back. It all feels really intense. You fall out of the pose. You are getting frustrated. You are sure that you were able to do this the other day. Why not today? In a split second you assess if you should try again or give it up all together. You are wondering why you are doing this in the first place. Now, here is the thing: if you are aware of the fact that you are having these thoughts, congratulations! Because when you recognize your thoughts, you can act upon them, rather than react to what is happening. Makes sense? Okay, here is another example.

You are sitting behind your desk in the office. You have a lot of work that needs to be done before you can go home. You want to leave the office at a reasonable time though. You are concentrating on a memo that your boss has asked you to finish before the end of the day. The phone rings. It is your boss telling you that he needs the memo already in an hour, instead of at the end of the day. You feel your heartbeat going up. You resist the urge to tell him that you cannot do it. You take a deep breath and continue working. You can do this. You are almost done with the memo. Then you remember that you have left out an important graphic. You search for the graphic but you can’t find it. You are getting frustrated. You are sure you had the graphic earlier that day. Where did it go? In a split second you assess if you should tell your boss you will not be finished in time and quit your job. You are wondering why you are doing this in the first place. You really don’t like doing this, especially not working for this boss who is asking you that have that memo ready.

When you are aware of your thoughts, and what they are doing with you, you have a choice. You can let yourself get carried away by them (and walk out of the yoga class and never practice again, or quit your job), or make a conscious decision to keep doing what your are doing because... (fill in whatever the reason is for doing what you are doing). And guess what? All of a sudden the situation (whether it is a challenging yoga pose, or a task at work) is not that bad anymore. Because you have chosen to deal with it. You are in charge, other than being the victim of whatever is happening. And that makes a big difference. In a good way.

Another round of yoga, anyone?

Namaste,

Marije