Ram Dass said, “If you think you’re enlightened, go spend a week with your family.” The audience always laughed when he said this. For the last few weeks, I've been exploring this sentiment. (Note: When I say “family,” I also mean our chosen families.)
Choppy waters
As I navigate a complicated family situation, I’m finding it so difficult to follow through with my practices. I'm more short-tempered and high-strung than I've been in ages. Sometimes it's like I've never practiced or taught yoga at all.
Don’t worry about me. I’ve got systems in place to help me work through that stuff. I just want you to know that you won’t find me on a dais preaching perfection anytime soon. I’m right here on earth with everyone else.
I bring it up for context and to confirm that, as far as I can see, Ram Dass was right. Even though I don’t consider myself enlightened, I thought I had a better grip on things than I do.
Your yogic power of interrogation
Maybe you’ve experienced the same thing. You’re strolling through life, and then your family throws you a curveball. It’s remarkable. You practice for hours. You meditate. You might even sprinkle loving-kindness glitter wherever you walk, but then you’ve got that somebody that can say or do something, and it’s like practice never happened. What is that all about?
I credit my practice with giving me the ability to even ask the question. Why is it that family matters seem to break down training – even for practitioners as adept as Ram Dass? How can practices that feel so firmly rooted be so shaken?
When you practice yoga, you aren’t just showing up and making sweaty shapes for an hour. You’re developing skillsets and mindsets that yes, might help you reach different states of consciousness, but in the more immediate, they’ll help you navigate the world. You can learn a lot about yourself by noticing what your mind does when your teachers cue poses you don’t enjoy. After noticing the internal dialogue and the impulse to flee the mild discomfort, interrogate those impulses.
Notice. Turn to wonder. Rinse and repeat.
The same order of operations applies in other life matters. Notice what’s knocked your peace off its axis. Question where that came from. Note your observations. Do it again.
My best guess on family
I’ve been following these steps as I interrogate how family impacts me – particularly when all is not well. I think I’ve made some sense of why that is.
In the worlds of wellness and self-help, we learn so much about boundaries. If you don’t like your job, you can look for a new job. When you have trouble with another person, you can often create distance. You can set boundaries around the duration and frequency of your interactions. You can remove work and practices that don’t serve you to make room for things that ignite your passion.
Families are different, though. In some cases, we do have to create boundaries in which we no longer see family members. In many cases, though, we still want to be connected with our families even if sometimes it’s stressful.
I think it’s this muddying of boundaries that creates the phenomenon that Ram Dass described. There have been many times over the last few weeks when I’ve been placed in situations that go beyond what I consider to be my normal boundaries. For example, as a rule, I generally don’t get involved in my friends’ legal matters. If I need space from my friends, I let them know that I can’t talk or I need to recharge my batteries.
With my family, all that goes out the window. I find myself in situations where I feel like I can’t set the boundary the same way because it’s my responsibility to help. I recognize that some of this could be my ego. Perhaps I’m getting too caught up in being the helper. Even if I stripped all that ego and sense of helping away though, I still come out with fewer boundaries than I have with the rest of the world. Maybe that’s just part of being human.
Grappling with boundaries
We call these messages “Always a Student” because I’m learning right along with everyone else. In the case of boundary setting, I definitely don’t have all the answers. Here are the questions I’ve been asking myself so far:
Am I acting out of love? Sometimes caring for others and acting out of love can prompt us to have to do hard things. If we’re doing hard things for the right reasons, though, it’s a bit easier to manage the challenge.
Are there other people that can help? I don’t mean for gossiping either. I mean real support. Are you the only one in your family that can do this, or can you call on other resources to lend a hand? Most of the time, you don’t have to act on your own.
How will I ask for space when I need it? One thing I like to do is maintain some time boundaries. It doesn’t always work, but I am getting better at letting family members know that my time and energy are finite. It might sound like, “I will be unavailable between the hours of XX and XX,” or, “I need time to think and understand what you’ve told me.”
Can I fix this today? We are bound by time. If there’s nothing else I can do for the day, then I need to let the matter rest.
What practices can I use to recenter when I’ve lost equanimity? We’re big fans of yoga with friends, but we know there’s more than one way to re-center. Mindful Minutes fans know that I'm a proponent of taking three mindful breaths anytime you’re so inclined. Micro-practices like that are great for clarity in the moment. Maybe sipping a cup of tea or taking a mindful walk could restore some peace.
Signs of spring
Even as I move through a challenging time, my practice leaves breadcrumbs of peace for me to follow. While I was walking earlier this week, I saw that the trees are beginning to wake up. It’s a reminder that we are small parts of something bigger. These seasons are inevitable. Time marches on, but we are always in the here and now.
May you be healthy, happy, and free from suffering.