There is a story about a landowner who had a hard time securing and keeping good workers. So, he was surprised, delighted and more than a little sceptical when, after a day of trial work, a young man tilled several more rows than anyone else he had every employed. To ensure this productivity wasn’t just a fluke, he asked the chap to spend the next day picking beans. Again, the young fellow was astoundingly efficient, and seemingly happy, too. So, the landowner asked him to separate the stone-fruit harvest into small, medium and large categories. At the end of the day, the trial worker once again proved himself more than capable, so the landowner decided to offer him permanent employment. You might imagine the landowner’s shock when the young man turned away in derision and said, “you can have your job. I don’t mind tilling earth or picking beans, but having to discern which fruit to put in which bin,” exclaiming with a shake of his head, “well . . . “
It turns out that, for many of us, deciding what to do is often difficult, even daunting. Stymied by doubt, overwhelm, or uncertainty, perhaps immobilized by some underlying claustrophobia or a primal fear of reprimand . . . Maybe simple procrastination due to __? I’ve noticed that my own tendency is to tie myself up in knots sorting through principles, beliefs and selfish and selfless repercussions, somewhat irrespective of the magnitude of the decision.
What I’ve come to understand (and sometimes actually remember) is that when we don’t consciously make a discernment or decision, by default we make one unconsciously.
Deciding by default seems like a sad way to live life.
Philosophers, the world’s spiritual traditions, and yes, yoga, have something to say about this weighty subject, discernment.
The pieces of yoga and the set of other wisdom traditions with which I have resonated over the years have come into a loosely woven set of guidelines for me. It isn’t about thinking, fixing, making things happen according to expectations or even admirable principles; rather, it centres on becoming harmonious with the larger Mystery.
. . . it centres on becoming harmonious with the larger Mystery
First, become present, adopt a contemplative stance an abiding disposition, drop all but pure perceiving, be lovingly attentive in and as This. I have come to understand this way of being as the “interior freedom” of which St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote and spoke.
Secondly, in each moment, feel or sense into the appropriate response.
Then, enact that response.
Rinse and repeat.
Sounds simple? It is. And yet, each of these steps is ripe with nuance and potential obstacle. Undertaking them might require some resolve. It might require on-going study. It might require guidance. It might require course corrections, comparing notes with others who are similarly motivated. It might require honesty, modesty, grandiosity, courage, meekness, insert endless stream of qualities here, depending on the demands of the unknowable aggregate of factors coming together in the moment. It is awe-inspiring, really . . .
This way of approaching life, in my humble opinion, is the purpose of our yoga practice, including yoga āsana or postures.
Having a hard time deciding or acting? Feeling like you just can’t win? Noticing the burden of or your own or others’ expectations? If for nothing else, I’d like to encourage you to come to your yoga mat or practice yoga-in-the-moment, for the simple reason to practice living each moment on purpose, in harmony with and as this wondrous Essence, Mystery . . . that which is beyond name. If not now, when?
Arrive. This moment. And this. And this. And this . . .