Last week I wrote a bit about svadhyaya (self study), which is really what all these newsletters are about - self study/inquiry/discovery. But I just hang on the yamas and niyamas so readily that I’m interested in calling them to attention whenever I experience them. So, I’m discussing how saucha (purity) & santosha (contentment) showed up in my life this week.
The most human things are pure
One day last week, I woke up later than my husband which happens about 3% of the year. As I slowly stumbled out of our bedroom with that haze of disorientation, feeling juicy, rested, and full, he came down the hallway, picked me up by the waist, carried me back to bed, and tucked us back under the covers. He proceeded to tell me about the crazy shit I had mumbled the night before (sleep-talking is a common occurrence). Everything still smelled like sleep, and for few seconds it felt like the early days of long distance dating, when we were visiting each other on the weekends, and I would drive to Virginia and wake up on Saturday in his bed, blissfully guilty and in utter disbelief that I had this human in my life.
Something about this scene was so pure, and my mind noticed it, was present with it, flagged it as important. It was Pure. I think the worldly definition of purity has become so disconnected from the experience of purity. We think of it as a synonym for morality, abstinence, or discipline; some associate it with being prude or boring or strict. But think about the most “pure” experiences of your life. Is your mind drawn to memories where you felt raw? free? Maybe it’s the glory days of a high school sport where you pushed yourself to your limits and experienced camaraderie with your teammates; maybe it’s when you took a leap of faith and made something creative; or maybe you’ve been vulnerable singing and dancing in the kitchen with your family; when you trusted your gut about a career choice; or reached out to a friend in a time of need. These moments we “feel” the most, which are usually the moments we feel like we are becoming ourselves, are what I recognize as “pure.” It’s why we look at cute dogs or babies on Instagram doing something almost embarrassing but full of love, and say, “so pure + the watery-eyes emoji.” Something deeply human resonates with us and we take ownership of it, which leads me to this statement: I think purity is actually authenticity. As I’m slowly making my way through the Yoga Sutras1, this week I was struck by Vācaspati Miśra’s commentary that “purity is the freedom from birth and death,” regarding discussions on Sutra 1.29:
From this [repetition of Om and contemplation of its meaning] comes the realization of the inner consciousness and freedom from all disturbances.
It took me several times through to digest, but it really clicks now. Purity (saucha) is authenticity; and in my mere 27 years on the earth in this bodily form, I’ve learned that the ultimate freedom is found in authenticity.
Vyāsa states that just as Īśvara (god) is a purusa (soul/consciousness) who is “pure, peaceful, independent, and free from change,” so also is the ordinary purusa. Elaborating on this, Vācaspati Miśra’s defines “purity” as free from birth and death; “peaceful” as undisturbed by the obstacles (kleśas); “independent” as beyond virtue and vice; and “freedom from change” as freedom from consequences of karma, namely type of birth and duration and quality of life.
Some days it’s hard to be pure, or rather, it’s hard to be authentic, because authenticity goes hand-in-hand with being present. We’re busy and exhausted and we drop into autopilot or numbing techniques to get us through the day. This is where santosha (contentment) comes in. When we are able to develop a “still, calm center”2, we can practice gratitude for where we are in life, who is in our lives, and reflect on the purity of our experiences that have brought us here, even amidst the busy rush of the day or performing an unappealing task. However you like to visualize the concept of purity/authenticity/presence - that feeling - it brings clarity and contentment. I’m not claiming Hinduism or Īśvara, but I think Sutra 1.29 can be applied through the lens of meditation and reflection as we all seek to discover the inner consciousness.
Finding your flow
And rather than break down an asana this week, I’m going to talk about one of the other 8 limbs that I believe is deeply connected to the above discussion: pratyahara, or the withdrawal of the senses.
Pratyahara’s primary importance lies in withdrawal from or control of sensory impressions, which frees the mind to move within.
This can be experienced in various ways. You’ve probably felt this when you’re “in the flow” of creativity, like in-depth research, writing an assignment for work, painting, woodworking, drawing, gardening, or something of the like. Time passes without your awareness; you may hear background noise but it passes over you without your comprehension of the sounds. You are “flowing”, though you may be extremely focused on something, moving into another yogic limb, dharana. We attempt to create an opportunity for pratyahara in śavasana. I have a hard time tapping into this unless my asana is very grounding. Ok so when we aren’t “flowing”, how does this limb of Yoga show up in our lives?
For me, I think it’s cultivating the skill of pause. I know a lot of us have trauma and we respond out of fight/flight/freeze, or we’re running on autopilot, but can you withdraw from your emotional reptilian brain for just a few seconds before reacting to the stimulus? As a defiant teenager with an eye-rolling and smart-mouthing default setting, my dad used to lecture me about the difference between reacting and responding and let me tell you I used to HATE IT. But he’s right. You will be thankful for your response much more than your reaction, and so will the people around you.
As someone who grew up in a very loud (i.e., yelling) family who values passion and heated debate, I judged others and devalued those who did not engage in my yelling matches, for they were not as ~intense~ as me, they were shallow or dispassionate and didn’t fight for things they believed in. Man was I wrong!
In my relationships, I interpret conflict as caring. Like, if you really cared about this and cared about me, you would fight with me about this (this is a deep generational samskara). As I age I’m starting to see the value in stepping back, taking a break for reflection and resetting my nervous system, then returning to discussion. It doesn’t make me weak or an unemotional robot.
Being rational isn’t about eliminating emotions. It’s about harnessing them to inform your judgment instead of letting them cloud your judgment. Being professional doesn’t mean suppressing emotions. It means considering their impact on others and expressing them appropriately. Adam Grant
That enough rambling for one week. Thanks for reading, XO Chan
Bryant, E. 2009. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali: A New Edition, Translation, and Commentary. New York: North Point Press.
Adele, D. 2014. Yamas & Niyamas: Exploring Yoga’s Ethical Practice. http://deborahadele.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/The-Yamas-Niyamas.pdf