Union Yoga is abuzz with life. We’ll be able to start taking classes in the new studio in about a month. Can you believe it? At the same time, we’re approaching a time of year that proves to be exciting and challenging for many of us. All this can leave one feeling a bit... unmoored. Luckily, the seasons offer us a reminder about balance.
Leaves that fall like rain
When I walk in the woods these days, I have to pay extra attention. I rely on my eyes and ears when I'm in nature. There are many plant and animal relatives that live there, and some of them like to keep to themselves. I would like to know if there’s a snake ahead so that I can let it pass. If an overburdened treelimb should decide to come down in a fall gust, I need to hear the creaks and groans in the treetops above. Tihs time of year is more difficult. The leaves fall so quickly that it sounds like rain, and the rustle underfoot obscures many sights and sounds at the ground level.
I know it may be hard to picture it in San Diego, but autumn is very pronounced here now. As all of these changes happen, I can’t help but come back to the lesson of impermanence.
In the spring, we’re thrilled for the first buds to appear on branches, and we feel this joy knowing full well that fall and winter will come. Now, of course, those leaves are having their swan song. They’ve done their part in solar-powering the forest, and now they’ve erupted into a sea of colors.
The falling leaves mark the passage into the sleep of winter, and it can feel grim, but they remind me of something else too. Inside each leaf, there are nutrients that the tree drew from deep within the earth. The leaves are the meeting ground for the energy from what is above and below. It’s a union of opposites, a thing we talk about so much in yoga.
Over the winter, when it looks like nothing is happening, the elegant system continues. The leaves are ground underfoot, chomped as a source of food, and eventually broken down into the soil. Now the energy from the sun and earth that we cannot reach is available to the next generation of plants.
This process is just an example of what happens to us in a million ways every day. Our inhalations and exhalations, the cycle of birth and death, a sun that rises and a night that falls, and the emergence and falling of leaves are all representations of the inevitability of change. The energy is recycled, and the process begins again.
On getting bent out of shape and finding the center
I’m not sure how you feel about all this, but I still find myself carried away by the wild fluctuations of seasons and fortune. When I see the trees standing bare, I get a little sad. When I think about all the things I need to make and do before the end of the year, I get a little wound up. What I’m inclined to do this time of year is hibernate in a sweater, but the expectation is that I’ll be more over the top than ever.
I don’t think I’m alone in this mismatch of expectation and reality. I promised you we'd talk about grounding. Here are some steps to try if you're looking for equanimity.
1. Recognize. There’s a niyama in yoga called “santosha.” It means "contentment." We don’t exist in a vacuum. Our contentment comes with a recognition of the fluctuations of life and an acceptance of those things. This takes practice.
2. Notice. Changes (the spectacular ones and the spectacularly bad ones) can give you the sense that your energy is all over the place. Can you spot the discombobulated feeling when it crops up?
3. Get close to the ground. Context is everything with this one. If you’re at work when you notice the discombobulated feeling, you might be able to ground yourself by planting yourself firmly in your chair and taking a few conscious breaths.
When I’m feeling ungrounded while teaching yoga, I will literally touch the wall. You’ve definitely seen me do this if you’ve been in my class. I will find a thing that is totally stable, and I will make contact with it, and it reminds me that I am, in fact, tethered to the earth. Give it a try. It might be what works for you too.
When you're at home, there are a few more options. Sometimes a mindful walk (without looking at your phone and with or without a dog) can help to even things out. Even in downtown San Diego, I could find pockets of green space and quiet areas to help clear my head. Meditation, whether walking or seated, can be so helpful as we move into this season.
Of course, we couldn’t talk about getting close to the ground without asana. I have been known to roll out my yoga mat just so that I can do some Child’s Pose or Legs-up-a-wall. These postures don’t require a ton of warm up, and you can hang out with them for a few minutes. Don’t forget to pull out those props. Your resting posture is like the fallen leaves. You take all that energy you've gotten from the world, and you give it back to the earth.
If you choose to ground in this way, what’s happening in your brain is just as valuable as the shape you take. You could have a very stressful Child’s Pose in which you ruminate on all the things you have to do for five solid minutes. A more grounding experience might be to do that same Child’s Pose while noticing your breath or reciting a mantra in your head. It’s not about putting in the time – it’s about the quality of the time.
The quiet place
The great reassurance of this practice is that even when life offers change and turbulence, we can create a quiet space within us. We can have this and recognize what's happening in the world around us. We can be part of the various cycles of being and we can witness them. What a trip!
I hope you'll take some time to explore what a grounded headspace can look like for you so that when you need it, it's there.
Let's keep walking each other home, my friends.