Lovers leave partners seeking answers to love’s mysteries. Swami Kripalu teaches about the “battlefield of opposing forces” that comes through separation. It seems that yoga also heightens separation within the community of practitioners as well, as evident by today’s explosion of Instagram posts, studios that compete for clients, and Yoga Teacher Training programs that teach “personal branding” as a way to stand out to get clients and make money. What is Witness Consciousness, and where does it reside within “me”? Who is this “separate” eye that is watching the “me” that is having the experience? This is what I mean when I say that yoga seems to heighten separation in the practitioner. That what I am feeling is not really real. And through that higher awareness to know that it’s just an illusion. “I” must use another set of eyes to watch my actions and “not” judge my experience of suffering, of joy, of sorrow and of passion. It seems to me that this only demonstrates more the inner separation of experience. It is said that if one uses ones “ Witness Conscious” to observe with non-judgmental awareness, then ease with the flow of life will be achieved. And each of these notions demonstrates how separated I am from the “union” of being.
Become one, root down, find what grounds you, open your heart, turn it over to God. Much advice is given in yoga classes and sutras. No longer can I hide behind the false tales of “I know” and “you should try this.” Yoga brings right up into my grill the bitter reality that I don’t know. I’m lost in this body that keeps on changing, in the breath that can be only slightly controlled, in this mind that crashes on the shores of emotions. Yoga brings divorce, separation, because of its ability to heighten the awareness of the practitioner. Without hesitation I said, “Divorce.” I think that was the beginning of the end of my teaching career at that studio. Once, as an intern for a yoga teacher training, I was asked what I thought yoga brought to people. It is written that yoga is used to “yoke” the three aspects of being: body, breath, and mind. I’ve come to a different definition: separation. The texts say the word yoga means union or connection. It’s been more than 11 years since I started practicing yoga daily. Everybody cries in yoga because everyone is hurting from something: sore knee, unhealthy diet, broken heart. I was devastated, and yoga was a place I could go and cry and not be asked why. I would wave back and forth in tree pose like the pines as the wind blew through their bows on cold winter nights. I would follow the teacher’s instructions and stare out the window that looked toward the snowy mountains to the east. The “studio” was a converted classroom in an abandoned junior high. I started yoga as a way to get out at night after my divorce over 11 years ago. Like Snoopy and Woodstock whipping together an amazing meal out of popcorn and toast.
“Come on Chuck, I promise I won’t pull the ball away from you this time!” Then Pow! Shenpaarises. I wonder if it all can be summed up in the Holiday Classic of “You keeping making the same trusting mistake,” brought to you by Lucy as she entices Charlie Brown to kick the ball.
I’m not sure how this experience translates into 30 minutes of sharing, of teaching. I have no direction and am lost in the wilderness of this. I have screenshot upon screenshot of one or two lines of text messages where there were once daily photos of happy smiles and plans for the future. I have beautiful words of advice and hurt feelings from being told what to do.
PRACTICE IMAGE FOR SEPARATION STUDIO FULL
I have dances with the Goddesses of the Four Directions, glimmers of hope, and a heart full of shame, guilt and bitterness. I have months of prayers and pages of diary entries. I have a lot of tears and months of longing and grief. I have no flyers, no script, no syllabus, no students to have practiced on, no music, and no documentation of transforming someone’s life. A photo posted by Joe Bundy on at 4:27am PDT
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