Lately, being here in India, I've been faced with the difficulty of my ego. This is not to say I'm a vastly self-centered person - and, in fact, I'd argue many who meet me would say I'm not at all - but all of us still have our ego. We still hold tight to certain beliefs that we are a certain way or should be treated in a specific manner. To let go of our ego is an entirely terrifying thing. Yet, I've come to find it's important in so many ways too.
I'm reading The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck and, as I'm experiencing all of these challenges to my ego in daily life in India, he also discusses the ego in relation to love. He says that falling in love is a temporary sudden disappearance of the ego's boundaries where there is an ecstasy that makes us think it's true love. Real love, alternatively, is the expansion of the boundaries of the ego, which will ultimately lead us to love the whole world. A very interesting concept to say the least, and definitely not one I'd ever considered before. In fact, I hadn't ever really thought about the ego at all before beginning the practice of ashtanga. So let's take a step back in time.
Doing the same practice day in and day out starting only one short year ago, I have learned a lot about myself. I've learned how competitive I am (or was when I started), how I'd just want to move on to more asanas (or poses), how I wanted the corrective and guiding touch of the teacher so desperately during the course of the six to eight a.m. practice. At first I thought this was just me, just who I am, but through the course of observing myself and talking to my teacher, I realized that it was my ego that was so competitive, so desirous to just keep moving onward without perfecting the present pose, so desperate for the attention of the teacher. To let go of that has been a scary task.
It makes you vulnerable. It makes you unsure of what's beneath all these constrictive layers of the ego. It's terrifying in many ways.
Yet also very enlightening. Rather than a temporary disappearance of my ego's boundaries, as what happens during sex, when falling in love, etc., I've been slowly analyzing and stripping them away. And, in the process of stripping away all these constrictive layers, I've been opening myself up and expanding those boundaries to allow more in.
More love.
More confidence.
More clarity of who I am.
India has been an ego-challenging trip from the start. When I first walked out of the airport and to my taxi, I started getting in on the right side of the car - the passenger side of American cars. Lo and behold, that was the driver's side. My driver made a joke about me wanting to drive the streets of India, and I blushingly ran to the left to get in the passenger side of Indian cars. First ego hit: my seeming confidence in how to get into a car. And my belief that I was culturally mature, having traveled so much in the past. I had to recognize and acknowledge that I really wasn't all that worldly, and that every experience I face - whether in a new country or the comfort of my own home - I should embrace with childlike curiosity and the awareness that there is a very good chance I don't know everything about it. That I can learn something from it all.
Next has just been being in this ashtanga environment here, where it was all founded. Many feel a sense of superior importance to it, and I have to say that a part of me did as well. I thought that since I was coming to the source, to the foundation of it all, my practice would improve significantly. That I could impress the teacher with my flexibility and strength. That I would have heightened enlightenment and suddenly realize things that had alluded me in the past. Yet, my experience has been vastly opposite. The teacher, grandson of the founder of ashtanga himself, will not allow egos here. Ego hits numbered two, three, and four: If you are pushing others to get in the room first, he has you wait in the back. If you are hoping for an earlier start time for morning practice, he can tell and will keep you where you are. If you're reaching and hoping for help with an adjustment in the series just because you want the attention... he knows. It's magical, but he knows, and he knows it's just your ego talking. So he won't come help, and yet he's there to assist you the moment he knows you truly need it.
We're guided, but only at the moment where he knows we need guidance. Both physically and emotionally/spiritually, it seems.
My practice has not significantly improved. I've been faced with foul moods and stomach aches when arriving at practice, hindering my ability to do a perfect practice. I still struggle in the same asanas I do at home. But at the same time, a change has come over me. I've learned that all I can do is make the most of each practice in the body and mind I'm in at that present moment and that is all. That a "good practice" does not mean catching my ankles during urdhva dhanurasana (back-bending), it means uniting my body and mind and spirit. That the attention of the teacher is not necessary and is definitely not something that you ask for... it is a gift given when you need it and when you need it alone.
So I'm letting go. I'm letting go of my need for attention, my need for success, my need for being the best or the first or the worldliest. I'm stripping down my ego.
Now, reading this book and realizing this about my ego, I found myself wondering how this was encouraging love. Love is the expansion of the ego's boundaries, not stripping away at them. Yet I feel that I need a stripping away before I can truly have a full expansion. That I'm stripping away the constrictions and allowing room for joy and love. That I'm getting to the bare-bones of who I am, not what I hope to accomplish. I think this is how the two relate, though I know for a fact I have way more exploration to do before I can fully figure it out.
And I know I have way more stripping away to do as well... continuing to analyze the ego boundaries that have affected the actions of my past so significantly and letting them go too. Getting down to my roots, to my honest, pure, unaffected soul. It will be a lifelong journey, but as I've learned in ashtanga, it starts with a single breath. Not a step, a breath. Learning how to unite my mind, body, and soul, and daily observing and being aware of my actions, my thoughts, my breath... this will all aid in continuing to shed my bad ego and let in room for the good and for love.
One breath at a time, uncovering my true self. Making room for love.
I'm reading The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck and, as I'm experiencing all of these challenges to my ego in daily life in India, he also discusses the ego in relation to love. He says that falling in love is a temporary sudden disappearance of the ego's boundaries where there is an ecstasy that makes us think it's true love. Real love, alternatively, is the expansion of the boundaries of the ego, which will ultimately lead us to love the whole world. A very interesting concept to say the least, and definitely not one I'd ever considered before. In fact, I hadn't ever really thought about the ego at all before beginning the practice of ashtanga. So let's take a step back in time.
Doing the same practice day in and day out starting only one short year ago, I have learned a lot about myself. I've learned how competitive I am (or was when I started), how I'd just want to move on to more asanas (or poses), how I wanted the corrective and guiding touch of the teacher so desperately during the course of the six to eight a.m. practice. At first I thought this was just me, just who I am, but through the course of observing myself and talking to my teacher, I realized that it was my ego that was so competitive, so desirous to just keep moving onward without perfecting the present pose, so desperate for the attention of the teacher. To let go of that has been a scary task.
It makes you vulnerable. It makes you unsure of what's beneath all these constrictive layers of the ego. It's terrifying in many ways.
Yet also very enlightening. Rather than a temporary disappearance of my ego's boundaries, as what happens during sex, when falling in love, etc., I've been slowly analyzing and stripping them away. And, in the process of stripping away all these constrictive layers, I've been opening myself up and expanding those boundaries to allow more in.
More love.
More confidence.
More clarity of who I am.
India has been an ego-challenging trip from the start. When I first walked out of the airport and to my taxi, I started getting in on the right side of the car - the passenger side of American cars. Lo and behold, that was the driver's side. My driver made a joke about me wanting to drive the streets of India, and I blushingly ran to the left to get in the passenger side of Indian cars. First ego hit: my seeming confidence in how to get into a car. And my belief that I was culturally mature, having traveled so much in the past. I had to recognize and acknowledge that I really wasn't all that worldly, and that every experience I face - whether in a new country or the comfort of my own home - I should embrace with childlike curiosity and the awareness that there is a very good chance I don't know everything about it. That I can learn something from it all.
Next has just been being in this ashtanga environment here, where it was all founded. Many feel a sense of superior importance to it, and I have to say that a part of me did as well. I thought that since I was coming to the source, to the foundation of it all, my practice would improve significantly. That I could impress the teacher with my flexibility and strength. That I would have heightened enlightenment and suddenly realize things that had alluded me in the past. Yet, my experience has been vastly opposite. The teacher, grandson of the founder of ashtanga himself, will not allow egos here. Ego hits numbered two, three, and four: If you are pushing others to get in the room first, he has you wait in the back. If you are hoping for an earlier start time for morning practice, he can tell and will keep you where you are. If you're reaching and hoping for help with an adjustment in the series just because you want the attention... he knows. It's magical, but he knows, and he knows it's just your ego talking. So he won't come help, and yet he's there to assist you the moment he knows you truly need it.
We're guided, but only at the moment where he knows we need guidance. Both physically and emotionally/spiritually, it seems.
My practice has not significantly improved. I've been faced with foul moods and stomach aches when arriving at practice, hindering my ability to do a perfect practice. I still struggle in the same asanas I do at home. But at the same time, a change has come over me. I've learned that all I can do is make the most of each practice in the body and mind I'm in at that present moment and that is all. That a "good practice" does not mean catching my ankles during urdhva dhanurasana (back-bending), it means uniting my body and mind and spirit. That the attention of the teacher is not necessary and is definitely not something that you ask for... it is a gift given when you need it and when you need it alone.
So I'm letting go. I'm letting go of my need for attention, my need for success, my need for being the best or the first or the worldliest. I'm stripping down my ego.
Now, reading this book and realizing this about my ego, I found myself wondering how this was encouraging love. Love is the expansion of the ego's boundaries, not stripping away at them. Yet I feel that I need a stripping away before I can truly have a full expansion. That I'm stripping away the constrictions and allowing room for joy and love. That I'm getting to the bare-bones of who I am, not what I hope to accomplish. I think this is how the two relate, though I know for a fact I have way more exploration to do before I can fully figure it out.
And I know I have way more stripping away to do as well... continuing to analyze the ego boundaries that have affected the actions of my past so significantly and letting them go too. Getting down to my roots, to my honest, pure, unaffected soul. It will be a lifelong journey, but as I've learned in ashtanga, it starts with a single breath. Not a step, a breath. Learning how to unite my mind, body, and soul, and daily observing and being aware of my actions, my thoughts, my breath... this will all aid in continuing to shed my bad ego and let in room for the good and for love.
One breath at a time, uncovering my true self. Making room for love.
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