Feed Your Happiness, Not Your Suffering

In asana, I always emphasized to my students the importance of learning to trust ones intuition; to practice listening to the subtle voice within. Naturally, I too seek guidance from others, but I’ve consistently and firmly believed that all the “right” answers, on and off the mat, already exist within. This idea became my personal truth, the foundation upon which I built my practice.

So, a month ago, when my life turned upside down due to choices I made, based on what I felt was intuition, I was severely devastated.  On a gloomy morning walk along the reservoir, a friend and fellow yogi asked me what hurt the most about the unexpected turn of events.

At the mercy of my emotions, I explained that I was experiencing a huge sense of loss. It wasn’t the loss of money or time--I felt that I parted with a precious friend, a once trusted voice, and all the confidence that went along with her. My once proud roar turned to no more than a distant murmur—I found myself listening passively as everyone else told me how to get back on my path to happiness.

I never found their path. Beneath my feet was pitch black--an old, molting yoga mat that accompanied me since teacher training.

As I stood there, eyes closed, digging my toes into the worn out rubber, I remembered reading somewhere that although winning the lottery usually tipped the emotional scales at first, most people returned to a certain grade of happiness within three months. As I began my sun salutations, I hoped that this freshly resurfaced statistic worked both ways. My emotional scales may have been tipped, but as long as I fed myself the right nutrients, it would be a mere matter of time before they tipped back. Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, author, poet and peace activists comments eloquently on this concept:

Nothing can survive without food, not even suffering. No animal or plant can survive without food. In order for our love to survive, we have to feed it. If we don’t feed it, or we feed it the wrong kind of nutrients, our love will die. In a short time, our love can turn into hate. Our suffering, our depression also needs food to survive. If our depression refuses to go away, it’s because we keep feeding it daily.

Asana awakens the witnessing part of the self. Deepening the physical practice has been a hands-on way for me to reawaken my inner knowing. Even when all external things, which can mask themselves as the source of happiness, things like relationships, cars, jobs, fall away, the inner truth remains: life is divinely perfect. Seeking shelter on the soil of my mat enables me to refuel my truth, what is left and still emanating from my center when all else vanished.

I feed myself the right nutrients. Mainly, I incorporate more uplifting poses into my personal practice (headstand, handstand, backbends). Placing the desire to be happy at the center of my asana, allows me to prioritize my intention to consciously grow joy off the mat. In my trials, I forgot what was available to me. Happiness is an innate quality already within, like the capacity to breathe or be compassionate. As I’ve begun to reconnect to my ability to breathe life into joy, effortlessly, the bond between my intuition and my heart is slowly healing and deepening as well. Once again, I am reminded that there is a reason we call it a practice and not graduation. It’s okay to fall, to break, and rise back stronger.

While in the heart of my trials, I took a wonderful road trip with beloved ones that helped me clear my mind and create space. Sharing some photos from that beautiful experience.