Don’t panic, you’re free, the sky is limitless. By Shannon Lough.

Everyone once and a while someone will tell you to “have a little faith” and for a moment you release into the hope that yes, everything will work out. Even with all the uncertainties, and the slight knot of panic that burrows inside when you think about the future, you submit yourself to that little bit of faith.

Faith, a word that denotes God, the Divine, or complete spiritual devotion in intangible concepts. You don’t have to be religious to have faith. It’s simply an act of submission. An act of complete trust in someone or something without any expectations or demands. 

In Yoga, there are specific rules of conduct to follow called niyamas, as compiled by Patanjali in the Yoga Sutras. Of the five niyamas, the first four being purity, contentment, austerity, and self-study, the final is the most abstract at first: Isvara Pranidhana, which asks for complete surrender to God or the Divine to achieve Samadhi. Through this surrender you can achieve an elevated state of consciousness when you connect with the universe. How does this apply to our lives?

Isvara Pranidhana is the faith that we need to embrace. When the present becomes disturbed by thoughts that drift into apprehensions about the future, allow yourself to open up to the idea of surrendering. We cling onto our structured lives, the safety bubble that we lock ourselves into because it seems like a sure thing. Sometimes we find ourselves outside of that bubble, whether you’ve just finished university, a contracted job abroad, or a career. You’ve been released from the safety net that let you sleep comfortably at night. You’re like a free bird that doesn’t know where to find its flock. Don’t panic, you’re free, the sky is limitless. This is the best time to listen to the wind, and the signs that the universe lays out before you and invites you on your path. 

The concept of the Divine turns some away. It seems too religious and enigmatic for the secular world we live in the West today. In regions of India and Nepal, you can witness daily rituals by the locals, surrendering to their definition of their Divine, through puja’s or acts of worship. They ring bells, light candles, chant mantras, send silent prayers to divine images and maintain their altars. In Japan, you see the locals walking in silent meditation through the forest as they sweep the path, or standing before the a temple, and washing themselves in the ash of incense and removing their shoes before prostrating themselves before the Buddha. These are acts of submission, of humbly disrobing the ego-self and embracing the divinity in themselves.

Even in a secular society, we can let go and search for the divinity inside ourselves by connecting to the universe. It’s all about perspective, and how you choose to define the Divine. Instead of thinking of a theoretical being, identify it with what you know. The miracles that are already present inside our own bodies, our beating heart, expanding lungs, our untapped mind. The miracles around us, in nature, the cycles of the moon and the pull of the ocean’s tide, the smell of the forest and the shelter it provides for so many beings, a rolling field of flowers and the powerful presence of a mountain range. Even the miracle of our technology, in the brilliance of the city lights, the sound of communication in the buzz of a mobile phone, or laptop. In moments of obscurity, instead of being the rock, allow yourself to be the stream. Listen to the flow that moves within and outside of you. If you let go, and give trust to surrender completely into universe, it will guide you. Listen to it’s presence and you will find your way.

Cherry blossom petals are falling

Beautiful like snowflakes.

The remaining rest do cling.

Without knowing their destiny. (Zen proverb)

Shannon Lough is a 200RYT, who completed her yoga and Thai massage training with Yogi-Nomad in Nepal.  She practices daily, and follows the principles of Tibetan and Zen Buddhism, after traveling to India and living in Japan for three years.  She is a marathon runner, a hardy backpacker, and an avid writer.  If you have any questions or comments please email her at s.a.lough@gmail.com 

Yoga, some like it hot... By Gaby

A early morning experience at Pashupatinath...

This morning, wake up at 4h30, to attend a Ram Dev Yoga Class (a famous saint teaching yoga to large crowds in India) at Pashupatinath, the main burning ground of Kathmandu, with Poonam and Ashok, two upper class Nepalis. We enter the temple area, cross the bridge over the Baghmati River, and walk up the big stairs through lines of sleeping monkeys and freezing beggars sitting around bonfires.

We sit on a large carpet placed outdoor, it is still completely dark and by 6 am, the class commences. It is in Nepali and I can only get the Sanskrit names of the practices. There are about 25 persons sitting and waiting for instructions from the "guru" speaking in a mike. Students are of both sexes, of all ages and from all levels of the Nepali society. The sound system makes high sharp noise and there is a guy who does his best to fix it. On our left side, the stone shrines of Pashupati overlook the scene. Some stray dogs are sleeping between the rows of student, on the comfortable carpet that seems to be here just for them. On the wall in front, monkeys are looking for mischief and I am told to keep my bags close by, just in case. It smells of garbage burning and people around wear heavy winter jacket, hats and socks, and for a reason: it is 5°C and it feels like it.

We start with Om and mantras: I am happy to know them and to participate as everyone chant. Then we do a series of warming exercises like jogging on the spot and jumping back and forth between Urdva Mukha Svanasana (upward dog) and squat in order to beat up the cold, followed by some classical Surya Namaskar (sun salutation). We sit again for some pranayama (breathing techniques) and then some floor poses, always with some hand clapping and rubbing at interval to keep some feeling in our fingers numbed by the cold. The classes goes on for 90 minutes, alternating between gentle asanas and pranayamas, nothing that would satisfy the basic rules of a "flowing sequence" as modern yoga standards, but nevertheless a very classical practice. None of the challenging poses we see in the west neither and that was not expected by anyone here. People are in blue jeans or kurtas (local casual dress) and you can see they will probably go straight to work after this.

Shavasana is a challenge; the cold is biting fingers and toes. However, there is deep source of heat that comes from the center of my body, something that creates a bearable balance. I can feel a fire inside, working to keep the body warm, but from where I look, strangely there is no feeling or cold nor hot. After a few more rubbing hands, we finished with Simhasana (the Lion pose) and everyone roars wholeheartedly (not the shy practice I am used to) and then a good minute of laughter yoga. Such a genuine energy is coming out of this group that I can only feel humbled and grateful to be here.

By then the smell has changed to Chai (milk masala tea) and Aloo paratha (potatoe fried pancakes), the day is coming out, however the sun will need another half hour to come, the temperature is now 4°C. The power went off, so no more light nor mike, something everyone is used to here with more than 6 hours of daily power cut. The Pujaris (men in charge of the prayers at the shrines) are ringing bells, chanting and burning incense, the dogs are playing and fighting, the monkey roaming around in search of food. The beggars are sitting wrapped in rags in front of their begging bowls, the painted sadhus prepare to receive the crowds of tourist for the day. The first corpses are burning on the Ghats reminding us to appreciate every moment while we are here. Today we were closer to the Aghori (form of yoga practice on burning grounds). When we walk back over the bridge showing a once mighty Baghmati River, now looking more like a sewage drain, with barely enough water remaining to carry away the ashes of the departed souls, I feel sad for the little respect we pay to our home, mother Earth.

I know Pashupati (a form of Shiva) was here all along, I felt his strong and powerful presence. The legend says that Shiva was hiding in the nearby forest under the form of a deer (Pashu means animal), until worried; the other gods forced him back into his divine form. In the process, Shiva broke one horn and it became the linga worshipped here and one of the holiest places in the whole sub-continent.

Today the cold was our tapas (meaning heat, but also discipline and austerity). I can't help to think about how many times I have heard students complain about the "conditions" of practice, either too hot, too cold, etc. Always trying to fix something outside to feel good inside. I also think about Hot Yoga or Bikram yoga so in fashion these days, were the heat does not come from your practice but from the heated room and also about Tumo yoga a form of Kundalini Yoga practiced in the snow in Tibet. Here there was no performance, no fluorescent yoga mat, no Lulu Lemon clothing, the class was free, everyone was smiling and lighthearted, no one complained. Something was present here that I have never felt in any other classes in.

I think it was just simple and genuine faith, embedded in daily life and not something made up or pretending to be anything else. Some people told me "it is hard sometime but we feel so good after... will you come tomorrow?", I had tears in the eyes...

For info about Yoga Training in Nepal check yogi-nomad.org

Kathmandu, Nepal

December 12, 2011

For more info about classes and retreats in Kathmandu http://www.yoganepal.com ; http://pranamaya-yoga.com