The day I quit Ashtanga

One of the many interesting things I told my teacher on my last trip to India was ‘I quit Ashtanga.’ My reasoning was; how long am I going to be doing this for? How long am I going to be hopping around on my mat for? Another 20 years, 30? How many years do I have? I was overwhelmed and under-inspired.

His response was simple and expressionless. ‘You can’t.’ My chest swelled with rebellion. ‘Why not?’ ‘Because what else are you going to do?’ he asked innocently as he took a sip of chai. I quickly went through a list of possibilities karate…no, swimming…no, vinyasa classes….NO. I do seated meditation, I do japa. Was there really nothing else? I desperately clung on to my story (the mind works fast) searching for something else. There was nothing. I surrendered. He was right. What else was I going to do?

I sat back in my chair and breathed in that bittersweet reality. This is it.

As one would imagine that day passed like all the other ones and I got up the next morning to practice. Then another day came and went and I practiced. My so-called ‘Ashtanga Crisis’ passed effortlessly so.

The mind with all of its preferences, opinions, thoughts and desires is a very tricky rascal to navigate. It can be very convincing indeed. Many spiritual masters refer to the mind as a monkey. Swami Satyananda Saraswati used to refer to the mind as a drunk monkey. He would say that we’re not trying to control the mind, we’re simply trying to become friends with the mind. In this case…would you trust your friend that’s drunk all the time, acting like a monkey? Would you do everything your drunk friend told you to do? No. Yet we do it all the time. We fall prey to the thoughts, patterns and conditionings of the mind time and time again.

Many people have practiced Ashtanga Yoga for some time and then quit saying ‘doing the same thing made them go on auto-pilot’ or ‘I was not inspired’ or ‘It was too hard’. They blame the system and make it wrong in the name of continuing their search. Inspiration is not something permanent to attain. The inspiration comes from interrupting the constant cynic in the back of the mind. Knowing yourself comes from re-establishing internal dialogue as opposed to continuously swaying with each and every desire. Then the truth comes bubbling up.

This is perhaps one of the best things about Ashtanga Yoga. It is sobering. There is no extraordinary bliss. No extraordinary drama. Unless of course, that’s what you choose. It’s just you, the breath and the brilliance and cleverness to re- commit every day.

The next time you feel overwhelmed by the demands of a daily practice, take it easy. It’s just one breath at a time.

By Magnolia Zuniga

http://blog.mysoresf.com/