It's interesting to read the Bhagavad Gita as a narrative instead of as a
reference book. When you read as a narrative, you get the story, how
the different elements of the story fit together. And what speaks to you
may arise from context, or from how the story relates to your own life.
When you read it as a reference book, e.g. seeking out specific
passages that comment on key themes in yoga philosophy, you miss all
that. You may have a tendency only to read the parts that relate to what
you already know. I'm really enjoying just reading it as a book.
The last week or two, I've been thinking a lot about this verse from the Bhagavad Gita:
It is better to do your own dharma (calling) even imperfectly, than someone else's dharma perfectly. Even better to die in your dharma than in another's which brings great fear. (BG 3.35)
When I came to this verse in chapter 3 it spoke to me very deeply. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has wondered why someone else seems to have an easier time in life, why some people are gifted with such charisma or beauty or vivid personality, while sometimes I feel boring, common, easily passed over. I have an old friend who calls this a syndrome - compare and despair. It's true that we often only see our deficiencies in relation to the people around us; rarely do we see where we shine or how life might be easier for us in some way.
In the practice of the physical aspects of yoga, this passage is so important. How common to be jealous of someone else's physical prowess! I think I spend at least half my time at teacher training trying not to be psychologically overcome by noticing all my limits. And because I have spent five years now dealing with fairly limiting injuries, it is easy to notice my peers moving ahead with a more complicated practice while I go back to the basics.
Yoga almost inherently involves dealing with injury, but I have to ask myself why have I been so limited. And the answers are both too general and too specific to be very helpful. Like most people, I practice poses I'm drawn to and avoid others, and that creates imbalances that lend themselves to injury. I have a crazy life that most people would not even consider undertaking, and that means I'm always coping with lack of sleep, too much travel, intensity, inability (or unwillingness) to slow down. I probably carry imprints from past lives that show up in my body now. Even in this life I have been lucky to enjoy lots of sports and athletic pursuits, but they have left me with lingering aches and pains.
It doesn't actually matter why. What matters the most is how I see this situation as my dharma and embrace living and working through it. In the past few years this has become easier for me - I've gotten more interested in the puzzles injuries offer. Like - how can I experience every pose in some way even if I can't work on the full version? How can I find ways to do poses that heal my injuries instead of exacerbate them? How take inspiration from the example of BKS Iyengar (I take his inspiration, but I'm not comparing myself to him), by challenging myself to find props and different arrangements that can work for me. It has actually taken me deeper into my practice, even as physically I remain pretty limited in some ways. That's living my dharma, instead of trying to live the dharma of someone who doesn't have a tendency toward injury.
But this verse also speaks to me on a deeper level, beyond the physical practice of yoga. I have really wished, sometimes, to have someone else's dharma. For almost 20 years I have lived and worked in Milwaukee, where our social justice movement is small, the political will to make change is weak, the opportunity to do something powerful feels limited. We have been confronted by one of the most regressive state governments, which in 6 years has almost completed dismantled a century of proud progressive tradition. I have watched my colleagues in California and Washington State help pass some of the most progressive and transformative policies in our country. I'm watching them, now, stand up for righteousness at a time when my own community seems more challenged to find its way. It's easy to wonder what would my work/life be like if I were in California. But that's not my dharma.
And probably every single day I see someone else leading in a way that makes me jealous. My leadership style is my own - I'm a worker bee, I like to be behind the scenes, I'm more of a coach and strategist than the one who implements and leads from the front. To use a sports analogy - I'm more like the coaching assistant or offensive coordinator than the quarterback. I might be important to winning, but I'm not the person who gets interviewed after the game. 90% of the time, I'm fine with that. But occasionally I wish for more airtime. This verse reminds me that that's not the point.
I went back to reread this section this morning and I got really taken with the verses that come after, which basically say that the biggest invitation to the wrong path comes from active desire and wanting (it actually says rajas). Wanting your way, wanting your own success, wanting, wanting, wanting. That surprised me. I tend to think the biggest sin we commit in life is laziness, giving in to torpor (tamas). Nope, not per the Bhagavad Gita.
It's a reminder of the importance of creating stillness in some part of our lives. Of finding time for reflection and contemplation that can break the attachment to desire and wanting. Even now, when I know that our opposition to DJT comes from a place of righteousness, it is also wedded to desire and wanting. Wanting our political moment to speak to our highest aspirations. Apparently, friends, that's not our dharma. Our dharma is to live in this moment, to challenge this regime, to maintain a vision of the higher selves we can be. I find this moment heart-breaking, but I'm grateful to have the chance to do what I can to change it.
With love, gratitude and solidarity.
The last week or two, I've been thinking a lot about this verse from the Bhagavad Gita:
It is better to do your own dharma (calling) even imperfectly, than someone else's dharma perfectly. Even better to die in your dharma than in another's which brings great fear. (BG 3.35)
When I came to this verse in chapter 3 it spoke to me very deeply. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has wondered why someone else seems to have an easier time in life, why some people are gifted with such charisma or beauty or vivid personality, while sometimes I feel boring, common, easily passed over. I have an old friend who calls this a syndrome - compare and despair. It's true that we often only see our deficiencies in relation to the people around us; rarely do we see where we shine or how life might be easier for us in some way.
In the practice of the physical aspects of yoga, this passage is so important. How common to be jealous of someone else's physical prowess! I think I spend at least half my time at teacher training trying not to be psychologically overcome by noticing all my limits. And because I have spent five years now dealing with fairly limiting injuries, it is easy to notice my peers moving ahead with a more complicated practice while I go back to the basics.
Yoga almost inherently involves dealing with injury, but I have to ask myself why have I been so limited. And the answers are both too general and too specific to be very helpful. Like most people, I practice poses I'm drawn to and avoid others, and that creates imbalances that lend themselves to injury. I have a crazy life that most people would not even consider undertaking, and that means I'm always coping with lack of sleep, too much travel, intensity, inability (or unwillingness) to slow down. I probably carry imprints from past lives that show up in my body now. Even in this life I have been lucky to enjoy lots of sports and athletic pursuits, but they have left me with lingering aches and pains.
It doesn't actually matter why. What matters the most is how I see this situation as my dharma and embrace living and working through it. In the past few years this has become easier for me - I've gotten more interested in the puzzles injuries offer. Like - how can I experience every pose in some way even if I can't work on the full version? How can I find ways to do poses that heal my injuries instead of exacerbate them? How take inspiration from the example of BKS Iyengar (I take his inspiration, but I'm not comparing myself to him), by challenging myself to find props and different arrangements that can work for me. It has actually taken me deeper into my practice, even as physically I remain pretty limited in some ways. That's living my dharma, instead of trying to live the dharma of someone who doesn't have a tendency toward injury.
But this verse also speaks to me on a deeper level, beyond the physical practice of yoga. I have really wished, sometimes, to have someone else's dharma. For almost 20 years I have lived and worked in Milwaukee, where our social justice movement is small, the political will to make change is weak, the opportunity to do something powerful feels limited. We have been confronted by one of the most regressive state governments, which in 6 years has almost completed dismantled a century of proud progressive tradition. I have watched my colleagues in California and Washington State help pass some of the most progressive and transformative policies in our country. I'm watching them, now, stand up for righteousness at a time when my own community seems more challenged to find its way. It's easy to wonder what would my work/life be like if I were in California. But that's not my dharma.
And probably every single day I see someone else leading in a way that makes me jealous. My leadership style is my own - I'm a worker bee, I like to be behind the scenes, I'm more of a coach and strategist than the one who implements and leads from the front. To use a sports analogy - I'm more like the coaching assistant or offensive coordinator than the quarterback. I might be important to winning, but I'm not the person who gets interviewed after the game. 90% of the time, I'm fine with that. But occasionally I wish for more airtime. This verse reminds me that that's not the point.
I went back to reread this section this morning and I got really taken with the verses that come after, which basically say that the biggest invitation to the wrong path comes from active desire and wanting (it actually says rajas). Wanting your way, wanting your own success, wanting, wanting, wanting. That surprised me. I tend to think the biggest sin we commit in life is laziness, giving in to torpor (tamas). Nope, not per the Bhagavad Gita.
It's a reminder of the importance of creating stillness in some part of our lives. Of finding time for reflection and contemplation that can break the attachment to desire and wanting. Even now, when I know that our opposition to DJT comes from a place of righteousness, it is also wedded to desire and wanting. Wanting our political moment to speak to our highest aspirations. Apparently, friends, that's not our dharma. Our dharma is to live in this moment, to challenge this regime, to maintain a vision of the higher selves we can be. I find this moment heart-breaking, but I'm grateful to have the chance to do what I can to change it.
With love, gratitude and solidarity.
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