Yoga and the Path of the Urban Mystic

by Darren Main

  “I know you’re not going to like this,” I told her. “But the practice here is to witness what is happening in your mind. This means acknowledging it without engaging in the drama that your mind is creating.”

  “That’s absurd,” she said in a very defensive tone. “How can you ask me to just sit back while Bush steals the election?”

  “I didn’t ask you to sit back. I suggested you sit up straight. I also never suggested that you couldn’t get involved in the political process. All I said was that you should witness the situation. In all honesty, have you ever made an effective change in your life or in your community by being in drama?”

  The struggle she encountered was one that most will meet at this level of the yoga practice. Again and again we encounter negative judgments that seem so important to hold onto. Rather than let the mind step back and simply witness, the ego tries to convince us that we need to judge and label everything.

  I often use the example of Hitler. His actions and ideology are so abhorrent that he would seem to be the embodiment of evil. Yet yoga makes no room for exceptions. We need to become a witness to Hitler if we want to Self-realize. The thing to remember is that your stepping back and becoming a witness doesn’t mean that you condone a person’s behavior. In fact, you may actively try to prevent what they’re doing. For example, many Christians who were later thought of as saints took a stand against the Nazis when they saw the atrocities being committed against Jews and other groups. The question for the urban mystic practicing dhyana is not about what action to take, but rather about what state the mind is in. To be a witness means that you look at what is before you and you don’t involve your own mind in it. To spend your life hating Hitler is to ensure that the hate he has come to represent lives on. To forgive Hitler is to break the cycle and end the war. The single most important thing we can do as individuals to ensure that another Holocaust never happens is to make our own minds holy ground rather than war-torn with thoughts of conflict. The only way to do that is to become a witness to violence rather than a mental participant in it.

  The flip side of this same issue happens when the ego tries to milk positive judgments. I went on a daylong meditation retreat once and spent the whole day sitting and designing a holistic healing center in my mind. While it is a noble idea to create such a center, it is not the purpose of meditation. My ego was simply using sugar rather battery acid to keep my mind active. The practice of dhyana would have us notice the nice thoughts without becoming engaged in them, and this can be every bit as difficult as letting go of the negative ones.

  There is a Zen story about a man who wanted to learn how to meditate. He found a master to teach him to sit. After his first day of practice, he came back to the master glowing. “I can’t believe how wonderful this is,” he said. “I saw great visions throughout my entire sit.” The master quietly replied, “Don’t worry, it will pass.”

  People often think that the goal of a spiritual practice is to find warm, fuzzy feelings and thoughts. This is nothing more than mental masturbation. When we enter into the witness state of mind, we witness all things, and this is as true of the things the ego deems pleasurable and nice as it is of the thing things that are ugly and uncomfortable. To use our spiritual practice like a mental pleasure cruise is to ensure that we never realize the true depth of the practice.

  When we are in a yoga pose we use the witness principle by holding the pose and looking at it. The temptation, of course, is to judge the pose and compare it to other people’s poses. There will be some poses we are ‘good’ at, and the ego will take that for a ride. Other poses we find more challenging, and the ego will work the mind in the opposite direction. By entering into the witness mindset, we simply observe the pose. It is neither good nor bad. Whatever emotions or thoughts come up as a result of the pose are also observed. As soon as the ego starts to tell stories about the experience, we do our best to return to the breath and the sensations, and simply witness.

  This is also true of seated meditation. Observing what comes up without engaging the ego in judgment is all that is needed. By becoming the witness, we withdraw that investment in our samskaras and we turn our minds over to the gentle guidance of Spirit. As we do this our minds are healed, and the whole of humanity draws closer and closer to that time when peace is our reality in this world of Maya.

  The Collective Unconsciousness

  The flowing river is lost in the sea; the illumined sage is lost in the Self. The flowing river becomes the sea; the illumined sage has become the Self.

  ~ Mundaka Upanishad III 2:8

  In any of the workshops or classes I teach, there is always a skeptic, and my Introduction to Meditation workshop is no exception. I can always count on the class skeptic to ask the same question: “Sitting around and meditating is good, but it’s not really doing anything to solve the world’s problems. Don’t you think our time would be better spent helping the poor or cleaning up the environment?”

  Of course there is little logic in this question. Lots of people don’t meditate and still don’t find time to help solve the world’s problems. In fact, one could argue that meditation makes a person better equipped to take on the problems of the world and thus be more effective at solving them. Gandhi is a classic example.

  But dhyana offers a much greater benefit to society and to the earth than just social change. Because the practice of dhyana neutralizes thought patterns and long-held judgments in the individual, it also affects the collective unconscious. This provides far greater healing than social action alone.

  The notion of a collective unconscious is nothing new. Yogis and mystics have known about it for a while, but Carl Jung popularized the idea in Western culture. The idea is simple enough—all minds are connected. In other words, if I go deep enough into my mind and you go deep enough into your mind, we will meet. I have heard this compared to the spokes of a wheel. Our individual conscious minds exist at the rim where they appear to be separate. But if you follow the spoke down to the center of the wheel, you see that all the spokes are connected, and the closer you get to the center the closer the spokes get together. [I first heard this analogy from Marianne Williamson, but have since heard it from other sources; thus I am not sure of its origin.]

  Not only does each of us have individual samskaras, but we also share many samskaras collectively. These collective samskaras make up social paradigms that guide the way we function as a group. Sometimes these social paradigms serve us well; at other times they can be very destructive. Some paradigms work for a while and then cease to serve us.

  It is not easy to change these paradigms because it’s like a democracy. In order for a real shift to occur, a majority of the people needs to let go of the old way of functioning as a society in favor of a newer and more evolved way. This restructuring of our programming can only happen one mind at a time, but when enough minds let go of their individual samskaras, a paradigm shift occurs.

  I once went to hear a Bible scholar speak once about how the Bible and Eastern spiritual paths, such as yoga and Buddhism, were complementary. Many of the people in the room had left their Judeo-Christian backgrounds in favor of Eastern spirituality because they viewed the Bible as patriarchal and judgmental. As this man spoke, I could see that many in the audience were getting uncomfortable. He finished by commenting on how Moses and the Buddha had a lot in common. When it came time for questions, a woman in the front row raised her hand. She was visibly upset and her voice trembled as she said, “I was raised as an Orthodox Jew. I was forced to study the Torah. It is a most hateful book, especially toward women. I can’t believe you have the nerve to put Moses in the same category as Buddha.”

  “I can understand why you feel the way you do,” he replied. “Most people don’t understand how Moses could be a great spiritual leader and yet lay down a law that seems so sexist. Indeed, people from both the Christian and the Jewish traditions have used his teachings to keep women oppressed. But when we take a closer look at
the way society functioned during Moses’ time, we can actually start to see him as one of the first feminists. At that time, a woman was property. She could be sold or beaten without any social consequences. It was not just that she had a lesser social status—she was considered nothing more than livestock. Her father or husband could treat her as poorly as he liked. If he was tired of her, he could leave her at the side of the road with nothing, and if he should die, she would have no way to protect or care for herself. By today’s standards, the Law of Moses can look very sexist, but it put in place rules that for the first time gave rights to women. A man could no longer just mistreat his wife or leave her for dead. He had to take some sort of responsibility. While this was only a small step, it was a major shift in the way things were done. Of course there are those who feel they can use the Bible to justify their degradation of women and others. This is very unfortunate, because it’s really the story of social reformations, and that story continues to be written today in civil rights movements around the world.”

  Like Moses, we are all called upon to do our part in bringing about a collective shift. Of course social action is a great way to do this, but not much will change until we start to clear away our own samskaras. As we do this, we move our tribe closer and closer to a new level in evolution.

  An example of this can be found in the story of the hundredth monkey, which is actually an illustration of human rather than animal behavior. As the story goes, a scientist was doing an experiment to see how fast a new behavior could be introduced into a tribe of monkeys. The monkeys under study lived on two islands in the south Pacific. Monkeys on both islands were given sweet potatoes to eat each day. These sweet potatoes were not native to the islands, so they were a new experience for the monkeys. According to most accounts, he took one monkey away from the others and taught it how to wash the sweet potatoes in the ocean before eating them. Then he released the monkey back onto one of the islands and watched to see how long it would take for all the monkeys to develop the new behavior. Gradually, one monkey at a time learned the behavior. It was a slow process at first, but when a certain number of monkeys learned this new behavior (one hundred is the number usually quoted), all the monkeys on the island began to wash their sweet potatoes before eating them. This rapid change in the community’s behavior happened almost overnight.

  The story gets even more amazing, however. At the same time that the scientist was observing the monkeys on the one island, he was also observing the monkeys on the second island nearby, using them as a control group. They were also given sweet potatoes, but none of them were taught any special behavior. When the hundredth monkey started washing his sweet potatoes on the first island, the monkeys on the second island spontaneously started washing theirs as well.

  Subsequent studies have cast doubt on the accuracy of the story as told here. [For one such study, visit web page: www.context.org/ICLIB/IC09/Myers.htm] However, its wide acceptance over the years suggests that it illustrates an important tenet of human behavior: our thoughts are available to all other members of our species, though they are free whether or not to think them.

  This story gives us a clear incentive to practice dhyana. As we neutralize our own samskaras, we have the opportunity to be one of those first hundred monkeys. Once a certain number of us change our minds, the whole of society is swept up like a rapture. What was once held as a basic truth is now brushed aside as an old idea that no longer serves us.

  It’s hard to believe that the United States went to war with itself over slavery. It’s such a basic notion today that slavery is unacceptable, and yet there was a time when many people were willing to fight and die to keep slavery a reality. When America’s ‘hundredth monkey’ decided that slavery was wrong, change happened.

  We have a similar shift happening today on the spiritual front. Up until a few years ago, people were content to let religious leaders and institutions tell them what to believe. Now, vast numbers of people are questioning this old paradigm and choosing a more direct approach to Spirit instead. That is why practices like yoga, Buddhist meditation and Christian Centering Prayer have been attracting people in such large numbers.

  As we continue to practice dhyana and neutralize our personal samskaras, and also the cultural ones we share with our tribes, then more and more often we step out of Atman’s way and create space for the final limb in our mystical path—ecstasy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Samadhi • Ecstasy

  They alone attain samadhi who are prepared to face challenge after challenge in the three stages of meditation.

  —The Tejabindu Upanishad 1:4

  The Path So Far

  Success is achieved neither by wearing the right clothes nor by talking about it. Practice alone brings success. This is the truth without doubt.

  —Hatha Yoga Pradipika 1:66

  Up until now, most of the benefits we have experienced through our yoga practice have manifested within the context of Maya. Perhaps your health has improved or your relationships have become more honest and intimate. Maybe yoga has helped you discover your calling in life and you have been able to quit your job in favor of a more satisfying occupation.

  All of these benefits are wonderful, and alone they make yoga an invaluable practice. But these benefits are nothing more than pleasant side effects. Remember, as I said earlier, the goal of yoga is not more limber hamstrings or freedom from chronic pain, or even a happier life; the goal of yoga is union—the realization of Atman. This goes as far beyond mere joy and contentment as a seven course banquet goes beyond a fast-food breakfast.

  Throughout this book we have repeatedly come back to the concept of Atman and focused on the realization of one’s identity as a child of God. Each of the preceding seven limbs has sought to bring us closer and closer to the remembrance of our true nature, and here in the eighth limb of yoga we experience Atman directly. Everything we have done up until this limb has been in preparation for it. We first prepared our lifestyles. Then we prepared our bodies and our minds. Now in the eighth limb, we let go of belief and dogma. In this limb we no longer need to have faith that Atman is our true nature, because we experience it directly.

  All the other limbs had the sole purpose of purifying the mind and healing our misguided perceptions. Now that that has been accomplished, at least in part, we can sit in samadhi. Samadhi is the eighth limb of yoga. It is translated as ecstasy, and with good reason. There is no experience more satisfying or fulfilling than that of samadhi. Unlike the other limbs which have specific techniques associated with them, samadhi is not something that can be cultivated. The experience of samadhi is potential in every moment. The only thing that blocks us from having this experience is the samskaras that clog the mind. Once we let go of these, the experience of samadhi is allowed to flow.

  It’s like a dam that hems in a great river. The potential for the water to flow is always there. The water is just waiting to flow. Once the dam is released, the water does what is in its very nature. Samadhi works in the same way. Once we let go of the samskaras that dam [pun very much intended] the mind, the experience of ecstasy pours through. When this happens, we are changed forever.

  A Visit

  As salt and water become one when mixed, so the unity of self and mind is called samadhi.

  —Hatha Yoga Pradipika 4:5

  From where we are right now, samadhi can seem like a far-off pipe dream. We need only try hatha yoga and seated meditation to realize that there is a lot of cleaning up to do. So often when we sit to meditate or find ourselves on the yoga mat, we get bombarded with the samskaras of the mind and the aches and pains of the body, and we can wind up feeling worse than when we started. It’s not that things are really worse, it’s that the practice of yoga and seated meditation shine the light of awareness squarely on the blocks in the mind, and this can be quite uncomfortable.

  Even though samadhi can seem far off, is it well within our grasp in this present moment. Reaching out and touching it is
not that hard, but finding the willingness to do so can be a whole different story. As we noted in the last chapter, our attachments to our samskaras can be quite strong. In spite of this natural resistance to letting go, we do have moments of surrender when, for a variety of reasons, we are able to disengage from our samskaras and hit the psychological mute button. This allows us to pierce the veil of Maya for a while and see behind the illusion. One doesn’t need to be very evolved for this to happen. Actually, my first experience with samadhi happened quite by accident, and it was so life altering that nothing, from that point on, has ever been the same.

  My adolescent years were quite turbulent, and I was very unhappy. Drug and alcohol abuse were two of several manifestations of this unhappiness, as were frequent bouts of depression. As early as age fifteen it became apparent that drugs and alcohol were a problem for me, and over the course of my high school years I tried several times to stop without much success.

  This struggle continued until shortly after my eighteenth birthday. It was a cold February night in 1989. At the time I had been very depressed, and I was trying to stay clean and sober. Although I had been sober for several months, I gave in to temptation once again when a friend offered me some LSD. I took it at home, alone, just before going to bed.