Conversations with Mirra and Aadil

My yoga practice has changed much over the years.  One catalytic experience that transformed my practice was when my wife, Mirra, developed a critical illness.  Three times I saw her almost die and be revived.  I was once again forced to search for the deeper meanings of my life and the place my daily asana practice had in it.  Watching the woman who mattered so much to me struggle for life made me question the haughty attachment I had to my body and the asanas it could do.

Assisted by the penetrating and often astonishing insights my wife had gained through her trials, I began to discover what was for me an entirely new approach to yoga practice, an approach that included yet transcended my old one.  My teachers and several ancient texts had already introduced me to this kind of practice, but I suppose I was unable to heed their guidance until experience had softened my heart.  And the heart was at the core of this new approach:  the surrender of the brain to the heart as well as the lifting of the pelvic energy to the heart.  My wife Mirra explained to me time and time again the importance of opening the heart center.  Speaking from the depths of her own inner experience, she reminded me that it was the heart that held the secrets to self knowledge and the heart that was the portal to the universe within.

Now, when I teach, I no longer ask students to make the performance of the postures their primary focus in yoga. Instead, I ask them to discover, explore, grasp, and then lift the awesome power of the pelvis into the heart center, giving the heart attention, energy, and nourishment.  As they work in the poses, I also teach them techniques to help them enlist the intellectual, analytical abilities of the brain in the inner quest that takes place within the heart.  For example, Parivrtta Janu Shirsasana (”Revolved Head to Knee Pose”) is an excellent way to learn this heart-centered approach, because performing the pose with elegance and openness requires you to discover and harbor the power inside the pelvis, to lift that power into the heart center, and to open the chest in a wide, resplendent expression of the heart’s inner luminosity.

Even though some asana gurus have long spurned the necessity for an integration of nutrition with yoga, I have found that nutrition is as important to our health as asana. Though this is far too vast a subject to discuss here, three general principles apply: The first is to avoid poisons, including artificial chemicals, caffeine, alcohol, tobacco, and refined sugar. The second is to avoid foods that create an imbalance in our organic system. The third principle is to move toward whole food – food that is natural, as close to its virgin state as possible. This includes eating some raw food and avoiding processed and canned food.

Ayurveda means the “science of life.” We can deepen our practice by becoming knowledgeable about the basics of this ancient science, especially the three doshas (humors) and how they pertain to our constitution. Generally speaking, a person whose constitution is vata (airy, light, creative) should do more grounding poses, such as standing poses. A person who is extremely pitta (hot, filled with fire) should not do an extremely dynamic practice but one that features more cooling poses such as shoulder stands and front bends. A person who is kapha (solid, heavy, grounded) needs more dynamic poses, such as jumpings and backbends. Since not everyone is of one dosha, since doshas change over a lifetime, and since different systems of the body (such as muscular-skeletal, nervous, and organic) may have different doshas, a more detailed study is called for.

If you are excessively vata, grounding foods are recommended, such as root vegetables and squashes. For the kapha nature, pitta food is advised, such as foods containing garlic, ginger, onion, and chilies. If excessive pitta plagues you, then the internal fire has to be doused with cooling foods such as raw vegetables, juices, and organic yogurt. Whole foods are not only grains, nuts, seeds, vegetables, and fruit, but also nutritional herbs (as distinct from medicinal herbs) that, understood and formulated correctly, can be of the highest nutritional value.

According to ancient legend, thousands of years ago Ayurvedic experts were sought out by a Chinese emperor. He then used their information to research how plants affect the body. An approach to nutrition developed, now known as the Philosophy of Regeneration. My family and many yoga teachers supplement their “table food” with particular ancient Chinese nutritionals in accordance with this philosophy. I have personally found them to be nurturing, healing, and balancing. Therefore, an aspect of Purna Yoga is the study and application of the Philosophy of Regeneration.

There is no “perfect” diet, only the ideal nourishment for an individual. Each person has to customize his or her diet (e.g., vegetarian vs. non-vegetarian, raw vs. cooked, spicy vs. bland, etc.) on the basis of such factors as temperament, individual constitution, time of year, life circumstances, and genetic makeup. This invariably involves researching the effects that various foods have not only on the health of the body but also on the health of the planet.

For me, yoga is every part of my life.  So, I am never not doing yoga.

Never Not Doing Yoga (0:51) Aadil Palkhivala

Sri Aurobindo has a whole book on teaching that every teacher can benefit from reading. He states, “The first rule of teaching is that nothing can be taught.” This idea is so beautiful! Perhaps the most respectful thing we can do for our students is to keep in mind that we cannot teach a student anything. We can show something to them, explain it to them in a hundred different ways, go over and over it with them, but only the student can learn it. Obviously that’s true-otherwise, all my students would have learned everything I’ve taught so far!

Since learning really depends on the student, not on the teacher, our job is to elicit the learning response from our students, to teach them so that they want to learn what we are teaching. This means being an embodiment of the teaching so that our students are inspired to learn and they yearn to follow the example we are setting. This does not excuse us from the responsibility of being the best teachers we can possibly be, but only reminds us that our responsibility is to teach, and the student’s responsibility is to learn. Only then is a mutual respect being shown between the teacher and student.

In the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali explains the five main kleshas (obstacles) on the yogic path. They are avidya, ignorance; asmita, ego; raga, attachment to pleasure; dvesha, aversion to pain; and abhinivesha, the fear of death. Though there are many yogic methods for dealing with the kleshas, asana practice–both the poses we explore and the manner in which we work in them–can be one of the most powerful of yoga’s tools for helping us overcome these afflictions.

In the epic poem Savitri, the Indian sage Sri Aurobindo writes, “Where ignorance is, there suffering too must come.” Avidya in our physical body also manifests in the mind, which becomes unable to pay attention or retain and recall information.  If we are to dispel our ignorance, we must cultivate the ability to focus our attention as well as the ability to calm our minds. Indeed, an unfocused brain cannot be calm. Thus, the ability to focus is a precursor to learning how to make the brain quiet.

Among the asanas, backbends are especially useful in this process, since they require strong concentration and open the chest and heart center. Because they demand such focus, backbends are extremely powerful tools for overcoming ignorance.  Backbends also help us overcome the obstacle of asmita, the ego, because they open the heart center, the seat of our connection with our higher self.  Asmita is the mistaken identification of the small, individual self with the universal, supreme Self. The ego believes it knows everything and thinks that the universe revolves around it. As the ego grows, consciousness moves away from the heart and into the brain. Over time the connection between the mind and the heart–the smaller self and the larger Self–is lost. Backbends bring us back to this connection.

The chest and heart openings provided by backbends also counteract the last three of the five kleshas: raga, dvesha, and abhinivesha. Raga, our attachment to pleasure, is a futile grasping of the ephemeral–we clutch what is only transient. In doing so, we close our chest and shut down the heart center. Dvesha, aversion to pain, also closes the door to our hearts. When we cover up pain, we cover up our shadows, the parts of ourselves that we repress because they do not please the ego. As with raga, our aversion is not expressed with open, wide arms but with a clutching, defensive posture. And abhinivesha, the fear of death, is the father of all fear, the primal cause for all shrinking of the chest, hunching of the spine, and withdrawing back into our small selves.

For these obstacles, hatha yoga has a powerful remedy:  backbends. And since Urdhva Mukha Svanasana appears in Suryanamaskar (Sun Salutation), it provides an excellent opportunity for yogis to learn to use asana practice to combat ignorance, ego, attachment to pleasure, aversion to pain, and fear of death.

I can think of three major turning points in my life, and therefore, my yoga.  The first was a major physical problem I had with my lower back.  (It was a great opportunity; otherwise I would have become extremely arrogant, because I had a very sensational practice. I used to practice asana 8 hours a day, with Iyengar standing there.)  The second was when Mirra almost died, and the third was when I met the Mother of Pondicherry.

Turning Points (3:18), Aadil Palkhivala

Sri Aurobindo’s yoga, which he called Integral Yoga, does not require renouncing the world but being an integral part of it. There is nothing in life that is not yoga; it is part of every thought, word, and action. Yoga is not something that we do, but something that we are. Sri Aurobindo’s powerful teachings explore the very nature of consciousness. They bring to yoga the concept of evolution, not only of the human race evolving toward The Divine, but The Divine Itself as an evolving being, with the Universe as Its playground.

There are no prescribed practices in Sri Aurobindo’s yoga other than the inward turn, the perpetual looking inside, the intensity of concentration in everything we think, do, and say. There are no rituals in his yoga, just stilling the mind, discovering the heart, transforming the vital nature, making our lives an expression of our souls, and progressing, growing, and evolving each day.

Sri Aurobindo's symbol

A central practice in Purna Yoga is to read and meditate upon Sri Aurobindo and The Mother’s legacy of words, and connect with the transformative force they represent. I suggest starting with Thoughts and Glimpses, by Sri Aurobindo or Prayer and Meditations, by The Mother. For those with a passion for poetry, I suggest reciting Savitri aloud. This is Sri Aurobindo’s epic poem and life work, about which The Mother wrote, “He has crammed the cosmos into a single book.”

The Mother worked alongside Sri Aurobindo and continued his yoga after he took samadhi. Their work continues – the work of bringing Spirit into matter, of helping matter realize that it is part of God. The Mother, too, left a remarkable legacy of words that are ours to ponder, for example, Rays of Light and The Sunlight Path.

The Mother' symbol

The Mother wrote, “Sri Aurobindo came to tell us: ‘One need not leave the earth to find the Truth, one need not leave the life to find his soul, one need not abandon the world or have only limited beliefs to enter into relation with The Divine. The Divine is everywhere, in everything, and if He is hidden, it is because we do not take the trouble to discover Him.’ “

Meditation is grossly misunderstood.  Very often it is thought of as sitting quiet, getting still, and being peaceful.  Those practices are wonderful, but they have nothing to do with meditation.

Meditation Misunderstanding (1:51), Aadil Palkhivala

Sage Patanjali

Over the ages, classical yoga has developed a profound philosophy that has applications to day-to-day life. Patanjali’s eightfold path gives us precepts that are the foundations of daily living in a harmonious society. These include the five yamas, which prescribe nonviolence, truthfulness, non-stealing, wise use of vital energy, and non-greed, as well as the five niyamas, which prescribe cleanliness, contentment, effort, self-study, and devotion to God. Sri Aurobindo assumes that the yoga aspirant has mastered the yamas and niyamas before proceeding on the yogic path.

Living yoga is constantly exploring, discovering, and fulfilling our life purpose (dharma). This daily practice helps us recognize that our dharma is constantly evolving.

Living yoga also means becoming aware of the relationships I have with my Self, other human beings (especially my parents, spouse, children, and friends), material objects, and the earth which is my home. It means becoming aware of my relationship to money and the flow of wealth.

Practitioners of Purna Yoga constantly aspire for growth and progress. They are vigilant that their thoughts, words, and actions serve their life mission at all times. Sri Aurobindo wrote, “Souls that do not aspire are God’s failures; but Nature is pleased and loves to multiply them because they assure her of stability and prolong her empire.”