Not a typical summer
This summer has been a very different summer than any I’ve ever had. Typically, I stretch out into the longer days filled with both the relief that comes from being freed from the rigidity of a schedule and the excitement that comes from having a project of some sort – be it learning to tend vegetables and herbs or fleshing out an idea for a new course.
This summer, however, has been defined by two alternating kinds of busyness – prolonged medical caregiving and bursts of amazing travel. No matter which has center stage, both these ways of being busy have been all-consuming. Whether being with a loved one on their health journey or gratefully soaking in moments of seeing more of this breathtaking world, my reservoirs of emotional and mental energy are fully tapped. Let’s just say that there has not been much left over for any long-term projects this summer season.
I’ve been distracted by the need to be present
As sometimes happens with me, clarity about what’s been going on has come from hearing my own answer to a fairly straightforward question. When a friend asked about my garden this season, I joked that I’m trying a practice of “benign neglect.” The plants are in. I check on them sometimes. More often, I don’t. Perhaps I could say this easily – with a light heart and a sincere laugh – because a garden is a seasonal thing. There will be more tomatoes and herbs next year. Maybe I’ll even finally give a full-fledged garden a shot!
But it occurs to me that, if I were asked about my practice, I could give the same answer – “benign neglect” – and that feels much less lighthearted. It’s not that I haven’t been practicing. It’s that there have been many more weeks this summer where I didn’t get on my mat than I am used to. I’m used to skipping days. I’m even used to taking a week off from my practice while I’m on vacation. I’m not used to this being a regular event as it’s been this summer.
Yoga is meant to support you as you live your life, not to be a respite from that life
Just as I was getting myself revved up for a full-throttle round of beating myself up with the “shoulds,” I came across this pearl of wisdom from acclaimed meditation teacher, Sharon Salzberg:
“Meditation and prayer don’t replace action. They connect me to something bigger so I can keep acting.”
I read these two simple sentences over and over, allowing them to sink in. “Ah!” I thought. “All this yoga isn’t about the yoga, it’s about what happens afterward. It’s about empowering me to keep me going, keep showing up, keep loving in the world. And that is exactly what I’ve been doing all summer.”
It’s easy to imagine yoga as a transaction of sorts. In fact, I remember when my kids were small and I was grouchy, that they would suggest that I take a “yoga time out.” Kind of like a vending machine – insert time on mat, receive nicer Mommy. And for the past 20+ years, I have practiced steadily and evenly to connect to something bigger so that I can be my best self in my relationships with my family, friends, students, and even perfect strangers. If it works like this, then it’s no surprise that one would feel compelled to get on a yoga mat as often as possible! Benign neglect? Never!
This summer has proved that it’s not at all as transactional as that. This summer, my life has demanded all of me. I have had no choice other than to treat my practice with a little benign neglect. Yet all the things that my practice asks of me – showing up, being present, staying open to exactly what is happening, not getting distracted by what I wish was happening – have been demanded by my life, whether driving to another doctor’s appointment or driving from scenic vista to scenic vista.
Just as my practice makes me hardy and resilient, it is hardy and resilient as well
Even though they have been less regular, the times this summer that I have been able to unroll my mat and practice have been everything they have always been – grounding, settling, centering, and clarifying. Life has taught me that yoga is hardy enough to survive a season of benign neglect and keep bearing fruit.
Which brings me back to my garden. Without daily doting, my pots of tomatoes and herbs have still provided tasty snacks and bursts of flavor in many meals this summer. Even though I’m not harvesting the same bounty as years past, stepping out the back door to cut from my plants as I cook still makes me very happy. The same is even truer of my yoga practice. Though I’m showing it the same benign neglect that I’ve shown my garden, it is not delivering its fruits scantily. In fact, it has continued to dote on me – flavoring all the actions I’ve taken this busy summer with love and presence as if I’ve been practicing daily. This is a gift that I may not have “earned,” but am grateful to have received.
In the first three verses of The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, we are taught that practice begins now – and now and now. It is always the time for practice – not only the time we set aside to practice on our mats. (YS 1.1) We are taught that a practice of yoga is about eliminating distractions so that we can be fully present – fully present to what is happening right now. This presence is the opposite of the benign neglect that happens when we are distracted (YS 1.2). Yoga is a process of refinement. It takes time. Gradually, the essence of who we are is revealed and it is splendid (YS 1.3). When we rest in the splendid essence of ourselves, we have the clarity to know where to pour our undistracted and undiluted presence even if it means we must treat other aspects of our life with a little benign neglect.