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Peace of Mind
An Inner Discovery Through Yoga
By Cindy Smith
With its ancient origins deeply-rooted in India, yoga has made its way overseas to many different countries and people alike. "Yoga" literally means "yoking" or "union", union of the Self, of the Divine. From physical postures alone to a deeper traditional spiritual practice involving postures, meditation, breathing, selfless acts and devotion, Westerners are able to enjoy the various forms of yoga made available to them. Under the direct and indirect guidance of the yoga masters, new students and teachers emerge, carrying on this honorable practice.
My journey with yoga began seven years ago. An "Acharya", a spiritual teacher was giving an intensive weekend initiation into Kriya Hatha Yoga in Toronto and upon the urging of a close friend I decided to attend. The only word I recognised was "yoga"; I had a memory from long ago of seeing black and white photos in a book of a man assuming outrageous looking yoga positions. I could not imagine what inspired him to do this and thought only very special people could practice it. I never gave yoga another thought until it was presented to me in my adult life. I was mostly interested in learning how to meditate; I needed to learn how to relax, how to get in touch with myself. I was looking for peace of mind and hoped I would find it through yoga.
Outwardly, to the world, to my friends and colleagues, I appeared happy, content, self-assured, independent. Inwardly, I was a fast-running clock, always in a hurry to be somewhere else, to be doing something else, to be "someone". Up to that point I had enjoyed a rich and colorful life; traveling, working in advertising and design, going to clubs and dinner parties with my friends, pursuing personal relationships. But I was still running. Life was not making sense to me anymore; at first the questions would appear from time to time, and then more frequently; the sound they made became a constant hum in the background of my mind, who was I? Why was I here on Earth? What difference was I making to the planet? Who were all these people in my life? Did it matter that we were here? I had heard of "Dharma", meaning one's soul's purpose. I needed to find mine and fast.
I felt somehow that studying yoga could help me in my search, so in the spring of 1994 I accompanied my friend to the weekend yoga initiation. Bright and early on a Saturday morning with lattes in one hand and yoga mats in the other, we arrived at the Omega Centre, joining a group of about 20 curious others. I had skipped the introductory lecture the night before, I felt it was probably very basic and in the beautiful spring weather we were experiencing I did not want to spend my entire weekend closed off in a conference room. Little did I know that the Friday night lecture would become one of my favorite events to attend every time my teacher came to town.
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...we were encouraged to bathe daily with ground
mung beans as soaps clog the pores in the skin.
Attitudes of "Early to bed, early to rise" and
"Simple living and high thinking" were encouraged.
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Our immersion began with yoga's history, and its philosophy. And we learned about "siddhas", ancient yoga masters who were skilled in philosophy, literature and science. My teacher spoke of a yogi's lifestyle, diet, attitudes, and "sadhana" or daily practice. We were encouraged to live a toxin-free life, eliminating caffeine, alcohol, tobacco, unnourishing foods and the like. To properly take care of the skin we were encouraged to bathe daily with ground mung beans as soaps clog the pores in the skin. Attitudes of "Early to bed, early to rise" and "Simple living and high thinking" were encouraged. He had my attention.
Over the course of the weekend we learned 7 meditation techniques, 6 breathing techniques and a series of18 postures, all of which were to become a part of our "sadhana". The meditation, "dyhana kriya", was to help cleanse the subconscious; the breathing, "pranayama", was to awaken the powerfel "kundalini" energy stored within us, and the postures, "asanas" were for strengthening and energizing the body. I took to the breathing and meditation like a duck to water, the postures were challenging however as my body protested from years of certain unused muscles. I had always led a physically active life and was surprised at the lack of flexibility in certain areas of the body. Nonetheless, I was enjoying what I was learning and felt mentally, spiritually and physically challenged.
There was an old, almost ancient familiarity about this Kriya Hatha Yoga, and as my teacher spoke, I understood much of what he said. It was not so much that I was learning new things, it was more like I was remembering. Yoga was calling me home.
The weekend's events closed late on Sunday afternoon, we packed the trunk of my teacher's car with his belongings and off he drove to his "ashram" in Eastman, Quebec. I went home, notebook full of information, my head and body full of a renewed energy, and a chart of my recommended daily practice.
The next morning I set my alarm a half hour early in order to do my practice, my sadhana. I lit a candle and the room seemed quiet and empty as I chanted; it felt odd without my teacher and the other students present but I forged ahead with my meditation and breathing. The next few weeks felt the same, and more and more I began to feel distanced from that great weekend at the Omega Centre and began questioning just what I was doing. My teacher had encouraged us to approach this form of yoga like a science; to practice, examine, question, compare. But doubts and fears crept in and I let them take over any curiosity or practical application and after a short while ceased my practice of yoga.
I dropped out of the "satsang" group, a monthly gathering of fellow local yoga students. I did not know how to explain my abandoned sadhana and did not want to appear as a failure. My teacher returned in the fall of that same year and I avoided the weekend seminar as well. The evening October skies were darkening, the onset of winter was approaching and I felt anxious. The yoga had left me feeling like I was speeding down a highway without a seat-belt or an automobile for that matter. I felt that I could not handle the energy that was being generated from within, I was afraid of losing control and felt confused. I began to question over and over again, what exactly is this yoga, what is it all about, why do I need it? And who really are these Siddhas, what do they have to do with my life? Who needs them?
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He was dressed in flowing white robes and
slowly, gracefully, stretched out his right arm,
the fabric hanging down to the ground
moving gently in the breeze.
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The questions whirled around inside my head and doubt and frustration escalated. My mind became consumed with these thoughts and feelings and then one night I experienced an answer. Riding home on the streetcar, staring out the window into the evening sky I was aware of the litany in my mind. The inner dialogue persisted, reaching levels of noisy relentless chatter and then I felt as if someone shoved me, I was falling back into my seat. But there was no-one in front of me and I was already seated. I could no longer see the night sky, instead, there were the Siddhas, all 18 of them seated quietly on a hillside. They did not move, they were like boulders seated solidly in the earth. All was still. It was daytime. I then noticed my teacher seated amongst them, he looked over at me and with a curious smile began to stand up.
Up and up he stood until he was the height of a small apartment building. He was dressed in flowing white robes and slowly, gracefully, stretched out his right arm, the fabric hanging down to the ground moving gently in the breeze. I could see through the cloth and incredibly, there was the universe! Planets, twinkling stars, cosmos, galaxies, everything was there! I was transfixed, in awe. The vision was beautiful as was the silence. The chattering inside my mind immediately stopped, my thoughts were still. I rode home in silence, my mind was quiet, I was at peace.
I decided to begin anew and as springtime rolled around again, attended the weekend seminar given by my teacher. I showed up for the Friday night lecture and joined a group of about 30 others. I listened to the melodic voice of my teacher as he imparted the philosophy of yoga onto us, he led the group through several relaxation and warm-up techniques and ended the session with a wonderful "hamsa" group meditation. What was I thinking? How could I have deliberately missed this lecture from the previous year?!
The missing pieces of the puzzle began to reveal themselves as I realized the answers to my questions were going to come from within.
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From my teacher I received "mantras",
sacred sounds which correspond to "chakras"
and different levels of consciousness.
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My practice had new meaning, a new beginning and was not without its stops and starts but I knew that yoga was somehow part of my life. I continued on with my practice and with further levels of study at my teacher's ashram, learning new breathing techniques and new asanas. I discovered an entire new world through meditation during a meal, while walking, while taking rest. I enjoyed 24-hour periods of silence which were delightfully liberating and incredibly energizing. From my teacher I received "mantras", sacred sounds which correspond to "chakras" and different levels of consciousness. The strength and beauty of his voice imparted these mantras onto my being, the sound of each syllable resonated within me and I was struck again by a deep sense of coming home. This was one of the most profound experiences of my life and I realized that all my running was leading me back to myself. Something from within was being awakened.
I learned, or should I say re-learned the art of living, of being fully present in the moment, being fully present in my life. I realize more and more of who I am by letting go of all that I am not. Yoga is a journey; it is not something you do, it is something you become. For myself it has become a way of life, every moment and movement had new meaning. Too often we become caught up in the memories of the past or fantasies of what the future might bring and miss the incredibly beautiful opportunity of living our lives in the moment. For truly this is all we have, this exact perfect moment of being.
A simple task of preparing fresh strawberries in the ashram kitchen provided another wonderful experience. I could focus on every single action I was carrying out; washing the berries under cool water, feeling their slightly bristly texture, drying them with a soft cloth, listening to the sound the paring knife made as I cut them into slices, noticing the sweet essence in the air. Each movement, each sound was realized . I used all my senses and became completely absorbed in the experience. There was nowere else I could imagine being, nothing else I could imagine doing as I simply was. Imagine living more and more moments like this, how rich our lives would be. We just need to slow down and pay attention to what appears to be fleeting aspects of our lives.
Much time has passed since the discovery of a yoga book in my mother's bureau. I currently have the honor of teaching asanas to the staff of a children's hospital in Toronto and also teach yoga privately. That book reminds me that it is wise to keep an open mind on the path of life. People ask of me, what has changed in your life since you began the practice of yoga? What a wonderful question. I have gained greater peace of mind, enjoy excellent health and step by step have learned to live in the moment. Yoga has given me the strength and discipline to relax, focus and take action. I have found greater humility, greater love.
Cindy Smith, born and raised in Toronto has integrated yoga into her daily life, making it her life’s work. Each summer she enjoys retreats and the ‘Annual International Gathering’ at her teacher’s ashram. Next summer will see her in Europe for the retreat and the Gathering at the ashram in Germany. She is also an artisan, creating functional sculptures with iron and will soon be teaching at a local community workshop.
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