The Yamas & Niyamas

by Deborah Adele

  Week Three: This week notice where you see God and where you don’t. Notice the beliefs or judgments that limit your ability to see God and experience God in all things. Then practice letting everything be a relationship with the Divine. See the sacred in the ordinary and God in each person you encounter. Ponder the words of Yogi Bhajan, “If you can’t see God in all, you can’t see God at all.” See God in all.

  Week Four: This week contemplate your own divinity. Are you willing to be sacred? Write down three practices that connect you to your passion and your sacredness.

  For this month ponder the words of Joseph Campbell and live the sacredness of your life.

  Aparigraha

  Fall deeply in love.

  Cherish all in your heart. Now

  Open and let go.

  ~ C.L.

  Nonpossessiveness

  Aparigraha

  I remember when my children were small and I would pick them up at child care. It didn’t matter how much fun they were having with yummy treats to eat or new toys to explore or new friends to play with. The minute I entered the room, they dropped everything and ran as fast as they could into my waiting arms. Nothing was more important to them than I was. As they grew older, however, the toys became more and more interesting to them, until at times, I would show up and they would totally ignore me.

  Much like small children, we live in a world with an abundance of treats and toys and friends. They are there for us to enjoy, but never in place of the one who gives these gifts. The jewel of Aparigraha invites us to enjoy life to the fullest and yet always be able to drop everything and run into the waiting arms of the Divine. If we prefer to play with our toys, we have missed the point.

  Aparigraha, or nonpossessiveness, can also be interpreted as nonattachment, nongreed, nonclinging, nongrasping, and noncoveting; we can simply think of it as being able to “let go.” The sadhus of India recognize how easy it is to become attached to things of this world. Sadhus don the color orange and take vows to renounce all worldly pleasures in favor of the Divine. They spend most of their time in the forests, away from any temptations that might become more interesting to them than their companionship with Divinity. Although this is an extreme example, it shows one way of staying free of the prison of possessiveness.

  For those of us who choose to stay immersed in the world, loving and living fully without becoming attached is not an easy thing. When we experience the completeness of being loved, the satisfaction of a superb meal, the acknowledgment of work well done, we can easily want to hold on to these moments and never let them go. It is easy to want the same satisfaction and begin to demand the same fulfillment from these things again and again. But it is the nature of things to change and by failing to let them change or move on, they begin to disappoint us and our attempts to hold on begin to make us stale and discontent. What we try to possess, possesses us.

  How do we move through life loving deeply and engaging fully without getting attached? Looking at the inhalation and exhalation of the breath, the timing of trapeze artists, and an ancient practice of catching monkeys can give us glimpses into the ability to let go rather than be attached. The guideline of Aparigraha invites us to let go and to pack lightly for our journey through life, all the while caring deeply and enjoying fully.

  The Breath as Teacher

  What if we could trust life like we trust the breath? What if we could take in all the nourishment of the moment and then let it go fully, trusting that more nourishment will come?

  Just like the breath gives us nourishment, so does life in the form of homes, work, relationships, routines that bring ease, beliefs, stances, and images of ourselves. There is nourishment until we get attached to these things, often unconsciously, and then disturb ourselves with expectations, opinions, criticisms, disappointments, all because we forget to trust life, exhale, and let go. Like the breath when it is held too long, the things that nourish us can become toxic.

  Aparigraha invites us to practice divine play, experience full intimacy and contact with the moment, and then to let go so the next thing can come. It is how our adikara, or competency, grows and how we become more who we are capable of becoming. I have a grand piano that I enjoy playing. But, as Yogiraj Achala reminds me, when it is time to eat I don’t carry the piano to the dining room. Why would I want all that weight on my shoulders?

  And yet, often we do try to carry the piano to the dining room table, so to speak, trying all different ways we can think of to find some kind of permanence, something to hold on to. But the nature of the realm of Aparigraha is impermanence. Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. If we can fall back to the breath and watch the belly rise and fall with each inhalation and exhalation, we can feel the truth of the transience of all things.

  Hanging in Mid-Air

  Much like the moment when the breath is completely exhaled, the trapeze artist has a moment when they are suspended in mid-air. My understanding is that they have to let go of one bar and wait in mid-air for the next swinging bar to reach them. If they hold on to the current bar, or reach for the next bar, their timing will be off and they will fall. Instead, they must let go fully to be ready for the bar swinging towards them, trusting the timing of the swing and not their own effort to reach.

  I’m not a trapeze artist, but my experience of letting go feels very much like being suspended in mid-air with nothing to hold on to. It is raw, naked, vulnerable, and uncomfortable. I would much prefer to let go when I know for sure what is coming. And when I have let go, I want to somehow stay connected, just in case I want it back. To let go completely feels like a suspension in the void.

  The practice of nonclinging is as free as swinging from bar to bar effortlessly, in perfect trust and perfect timing. Any kind of holding too long or grasping too far forward in an effort to maintain a sense of security is deadly to our spiritual growth and the natural unfolding of our lives.

  Let Go of the Banana!

  I am fascinated by an ancient process of capturing monkeys in India. Like the breath and the trapeze artist, this process gives us insights into how we stay attached to objects of life and how deadly that can become. In this process of catching monkeys, small cages with narrow bars are made and a banana is placed inside the cage. The monkeys come along, reach in between the bars, and grab the banana. Then the monkeys begin the impossible task of trying to pull the banana through the bars. And here is the amazing thing – in the moment when the monkey catchers come along, the monkeys are totally free. There is nothing keeping them from running off to safety as they hear danger approach. All they have to do is to let go of the banana. Instead, they refuse to release the banana and are easily taken into captivity.

  “Bananas” for us are anything we expect to give us the same fulfillment the second and third time. When we expect our spouse to make us feel good like they did the evening before, or when we expect a dinner out to satisfy us like it did the last time, or when we expect to be appreciated like we were yesterday, indeed anytime we want the same “feel good” results, we are “holding on to the banana.” Our expectations keep us captive and often disgruntled.

  The image of the monkey holding on to the banana is real for those of us captured in our attachments. Indeed, nothing is holding us. We, like the monkeys, are totally free. Instead, we choose to hold on, choosing our attachments and our greed rather than our freedom. To choose freedom, we simply need to “let go of the banana.” Instead, we create our own prison of captivity. What we hold, begins to hold us. As illustrated in the following example, captivity can also be an image of our self that we insist on holding.

  What we Possess, Possesses Us

  When I went through a tough divorce with two small children, I decided then and there that I would never need anyone again. Unconsciously, that decision began to work on me in ways I didn’t recognize: I would refuse to ask for help or to accept help when it wa
s offered; I refused to let myself be tired or to rest; I refused to be anything but invincible. I was never going to find myself that vulnerable again.

  It was decades later that I began to realize the havoc that my attachment to this image of myself was having on my life. I was wearing myself out and wearing out everyone around me. I couldn’t stop because if I stopped, I might feel that sense of helplessness again. I was holding on to an image that was in turn holding on to me and keeping me in bondage. The play and spontaneity and fun in my life were becoming almost nonexistent. Invincibility was eating all the joy out of my life.

  Anything we cling to creates a maintenance problem for us. The material items that we hoard, collect, buy because they are on sale or take because they are “free,” all take up space and demand our attention. Storage boxes and sheds become an easy way to fool ourselves. Subtle attachments come in the form of our images and beliefs about ourselves, about how life should be, about how others should be. These images keep us in bondage to our own learning and growth. Clutter in our physical space blocks our ability to physically move, while clutter in our minds blocks our freedom to expand and have space for the next thing life wants to bring to us.

  I went through a period of attachment to bean and rice burritos made at our local co-op deli. It didn’t matter who was behind the counter, they all knew me and they knew exactly what I wanted, even the special request for extra filling. On one visit, the server behind the deli began to fix my burrito and made the comment, “You are so boring.” Another time when I was particularly craving my usual, I stopped at the deli in full anticipation of the upcoming indulgence, only to find out they were all out of bean and rice mix for burritos. I was irate and devastated. In that moment I witnessed the severity of my attachment when I was unwilling to substitute another kind of burrito, instead choosing to have my day ruined.

  What I was holding onto was holding on to me. Attachments ruin our day when they aren’t fulfilled. Attachments make us boring. And attachments keep us blinded to the smorgasbord of new opportunities around us.

  The word attachment can be traced to a root word that means “to nail.” Attachments are like nailing ourselves to our need for someone or something to continue to be the same and to always be there for us in the same way. When we nail ourselves to our needs for others, to our feelings, our roles, our agendas, our pleasures, our identities, we become more like rats in a maze than free human beings.

  Just how Many Bags are you Taking?

  Recently my teenage granddaughter and I went on our first overnight retreat adventure together. In my usual organized, prepared style, I started asking her way in advance what we should pack. I held my frustration as the days passed and the question continued to go unanswered. The day before we were to leave, I said, “Ashly, we have to make plans.” “Grandma,” she said, “that’s the whole point of getting away; make it easy, don’t take anything, not even plans.” Further conversation revealed her packing list: a book, a soccer ball, and a healthy supply of her favorite organic frozen dinners.

  I found myself stunned at the simplicity of her understanding of retreat time. In my mind I reviewed the large amounts of packing and preparation that had always burdened my retreat time. Excited at the opportunity, I leaped into this new challenge before me to “take nothing with me.” I would like to report that my efforts were a success, but alas, the morning we left found us both filling the car with all kinds of last minute baggage.

  But the seed had been planted in my mind and I found myself wondering where else I was “missing the point” with my planning and packing and hauling. In fact, how many suitcases full of expectations, tasks, plans, resentments, and unforgiven moments was I toting around with me every day? Even airlines know to charge a fine when we pack over the limit I thought to myself, and yet I wonder how many of us are packing over the limit every morning and wearying ourselves throughout the day with this heavy baggage?

  What if we woke up every morning and took nothing with us? What if that was the whole point? What if we unpacked our way to God? Unpacked our way to freedom? Unpacked our way to being?

  And yet, we seem to put more into our already full suitcases as the day wears on and we add some disappointments and maybe a little anger mixed with some frustration to our already heavy load. This craziness we do to ourselves is as silly as if we carried a heavy load of bricks around all day and continued to add more to our pile.

  Pack light for the journey, my granddaughter reminded me. Strip yourself to raw nakedness and vulnerability, the yogis teach us. This is the invitation of nonpossessiveness. Are we up to the unpacking?

  But Aren’t we Supposed to Care?

  Nonattachment does not mean that we don’t care or that we somehow shut ourselves off from the pleasures and joy of life and each other. In fact, nonattachment frees us up to be immersed in appreciation of life and one another. We are asked to let go of the clinging to the thing, not the enjoyment of the thing itself. Letting go of the ownership opens us up to full engagement with what is set before us in the present moment. Life becomes a banquet, and we are free to feast. Like the breath, we are invited to breathe in deeply, enjoying the fullness of the inhalation, and then to let go just as deeply and fully, enjoying the release of the exhale.

  The fewer attachments we carry with us, the more we are free to enjoy and engage and live every moment before us to the fullest. The more breath we let go of, the more room there is in our body for the fullness of the next inhalation. The more we generously share and give away, the more expansive and light we become. The journey of life is towards freedom. A bird cannot hold its perch and fly. Neither can we grasp anything and be free.

  Practicing constant generosity and unfailing trust will keep our greed in check and keep us open to life’s unfolding. What wants to come to us is so great. And what we hold on to is often so small. Like the trapeze artist, are we willing to be suspended in mid-air in total trust of the timing and of a future that is greater than the one we are holding on to?

  Questions for Exploration

  Living with these questions, taking time for reflection, and journaling will give you new insights into your life and the practice of nonpossessiveness. For this month, frame your exploration in the following statement by Swami Jnaneshvara:

  Love is what is left when

  You’ve let go of

  All the things you love.

  Week One: This week pay attention to your breath. Let the simple act of inhaling and exhaling teach you about the fullness of breathing in life without the need to hold on to it. Journal your observations and experience.

  Week Two: This week look at the physical things you have surrounded yourself with. Do these things make you feel free and light or do they have a hold on you and make you feel heavy? (Remember: what you cling to, clings to you.) Experience the difference between enjoyment and attachment.

  Week Three: This week notice where you impose your expectations on people and things, unconsciously demanding that they give you the usual fulfillment and comfort. How do your expectations keep you limited and often disgruntled?

  Week Four: Krishna Das makes the observation that in our country we have a muscle in the mind that we forget is there. He calls it the “letting go” muscle. Krishna Das says we have developed a strong “holding on” muscle in the mind, but the “letting go” muscle is undeveloped. He suggests we get our mind in shape by using this muscle more often, practicing with little things so we are prepared when the bigger things come along. This week notice when you cling to experiences, emotions, thoughts, habits, and beliefs. Then give your “letting go” muscle some exercise and begin to let go.

  For this month ponder the words of Swami Jnaneshvara and live fully in the experience of life without the burden of attachments or the need to possess.

  Reviewing the Yamas

  Not long ago I was traveling with a friend who had just purchas
ed a new Prius with a GPS (global positioning system). I enjoyed the adventure of having a computer talk to me and make sure I was on the right path. I laughed hilariously when my friend continued to drive straight after the computer had given instructions to turn right. The computer immediately responded with, “Drive forward and make an immediate legal U-turn.”

  The Yamas are like our personal GPS. They tell us when we are going in the wrong direction and that we need to make “an immediate legal U-turn.” They let us know when we are making a negative impact on the world and invite us to “turn around” and take a step towards harmony instead.

  The Yamas are not pat, simple answers; they are instructions to move in a certain direction. They require familiarity and daily practice. As our personal GPS, the practice of Nonviolence, Truthfulness, Nonstealing, Nonexcess, and Nonpossessiveness turn us:

  • From harming ourselves and others to kindness and compassion for self and others (Nonviolence)

  • From lies and half-truths to expressing our uniqueness and authenticity (Truthfulness)

  • From theft to cultivating new skills and abilities (Nonstealing)

  • From greed to appreciation and pleasure without excess (Nonexcess)

  • From attachment to intimacy without possession (Nonpossessiveness)

  The Yamas address the fact that we are social creatures, alive on a planet full of other life forms where we need to learn to live together and share the goods. The Yamas, or restraints, invite us into an adult relationship with the world, where we can see past our own needs into the collective good. In that sense, we can think of them as social disciplines, guiding us into harmony, peace, and right relationship with the world. The Yamas pull us back from needing so much that is external, and point us towards the unique expression of our own life. It is here that we feel the excitement and joy of living.