Atha Yoga Anushasanam

Now, The Teachings of Yoga

Now, Yoga

Patanjali’s 2000-year old Yoga Sutras begins with this simple Sanskrit phrase: atha yoga anushasanam / now the teachings of yoga. I like the tradition that translates this phrase into English simply as “Now, yoga.”

“Now, yoga” is a reminder to be present in one’s practice. A reminder to think outside of dualities (one definition of yoga is to bind, to bring together). A reminder to make time to practice the asanas (poses). A reminder to sit in meditation.

Over the years, and especially over the last few months, yoga has taken on this deep sense of immediacy in my life that “now, yoga” pins down. By immediate, I don’t mean rushed or worried. Yoga is just there — palpating in my body, organizing my thoughts, animating my spirit.

At the same time, yoga hasn’t been something I talk about a lot. I’ve kept it close. So I imagine that folks who know me may be wondering how I came around to enrolling in a 200-hour yoga teacher training program.

Depression Punctuated with Anxiety

I first found my way to a yoga class at Hart House as a student at the University of Toronto. In the early 2000s, yoga was on its trendy swing upwards and it was a form of exercise that appealed to me. If it helped mitigate my migraine headaches attacks too, all the better.

I don’t remember much about that first class (other than it was the first time I observed that my left foot naturally tips away from mid-line). I do remember, though, that emerging sense of home. Just a whisper of it really, but enough that it stuck and drove me to keep coming back to the mat.

I did know, however, that when I was moving through asanas I felt at ease. Not that the practice was easy, but it brought comfort and lightness to my body and spirit which I desperately needed.

I didn’t know it then, but I was experiencing depression amidst a lifetime of undiagnosed and untreated anxiety. My depressive funks were punctuated by anxiety attacks, attacks I had and have experienced for my whole life, but I just thought I crazy.

Courtney bought me my first yoga mat (I still use it too). We got married. We moved to Vancouver, then Chicago, then back to her hometime in Rockford. All the while, my yoga practice came and went, came and went, came and went.

This inconsistency was a reflection of a number of things. I had no idea what I was doing. I was buying books that sounded interesting. I was taking random classes that were easily accessible. I rarely practiced at home.

All of these reasons, though, can be wrapped up by saying that I misunderstood almost everything about yoga. I put yoga in a box, defining it almost entirely as a form of exercise that I found relaxing. Which of course it is, but that’s far from all it is.

Freer and Fresher Air

What I had missed was that yoga is a philosophical and spiritual worldview, a set of ideas and practices to craft a life of peace, balance, non-harm, and union with divine Presence. Yoga asanas (poses), as I would later explore with my teacher, Tammie, are a means of honoring one’s body as the temple for one’s soul and clearing out the cobwebs so you can rest into Ultimate Reality. I say honoring here and not building intentionally. Yoga doesn’t make any of this happen. Rather, yoga sweeps the ego aside just long enough to observe one’s ever-present union with Consciousness.

But I wasn’t ready for that. I’m still not sure I am. You can only come to know what you’ve already experienced and what I had experienced was the crippling nature of fundamentalist Christianity. I had to unwind myself from that system; acknowledge its traumatic effect on my body, mind, and spirit; and work towards peace with a way of life that raised me, but cannot take me any further.

It is the mournful, rage-filled, and inspired work of self-love.

At the same time that I faced in to a lifetime of traumatic spiritual experiences, I sought refuge in therapy and a yoga practice that affirmed the goodness of my embodied humanity and opened a space where I could breathe freer and fresher air.

This Is The Story

This is not a story of giving up one thing to make room for another. Not a story of getting over it. Moving through it and past it by taking up something else.

The hard truth is, you don’t ever get over the terrible shit. You look it square in the eyes, weep with it, for it, and integrate it into your life. At some point, it rears its head and you find yourself taking an easy breath and saying, “hello, friend.”

Patankali’s first yoga sutra — “Now, yoga” — doesn’t quietly dissolve pain or brush anything under the rug. Rather, it calls yoga into the very center of our lives, stitching experiences together without resolving their conflicts. As I sift through all that needs suturing (yes, suture and sutra are related words), I hear Patanjali whispering “now, yoga,” again and again over each one, gently nudging me to bind each one to all others and all others to each one.

🙏🏼 Mathew

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It means the world to me that you’ve taken the time to join me for this leg of my yoga journey. I’d love to hear your thoughts and ideas in the comments below.

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