We had a guest staying at our house this past week, a beautiful young woman named Rachel who had travelled to Vancouver for a writing immersion with good friends and fellow coaches. I was hoping to tap into the energetic wave of creativity that would be swirling in the field and get some serious writing done myself. Alas, that didn’t happen.
I live with two amazing housemates, John and Barry. Over the course of Rachel’s stay, we had lots of good meals and some lively discussions. I was struck by what she mirrored back to us, about her experience of being held in her creative pressure cooker by our eclectic band of 60-somethings. Certainly I knew that individually and collectively we supported her process as best we could, but there was something else at play in the house.
It wasn’t until Rachel’s final evening that it dawned on me that part of what allows our house (and us in it) to hold this kind of intensity is our commitment to our daily practices. We each have some of our own and they are varied and change from time to time, but one of our collective through lines is Sadhguru’s Shambhavi Kriya, a yoga and meditation practice that we began in 2017 after attending his Inner Engineering Program.
I can attest to the to the transformational nature of the practice. Although I felt fabulous for the first three weeks, with more energy and enthusiasm than I’d had for decades, the euphoria was short-lived. Previous symptomology resurfaced and I was challenged to stay with it during bouts of crippling fatigue. I did, though, to varying degrees, and over the next several months my nervous system stabilized and my energy and optimism returned.
Staying with the practice required me to trust something other than my moment-to-moment experience. In retrospect I think it was probably my future self that I was acting in support of, and maybe that’s what all committed practices are for. I do know that Sadhguru urges us to engage in our practice every day, even on the day we die.
In my post a month ago I shared a video link of Laura Devine speaking about the power of establishing a minimum and maximum amount of time to devote to our most important practice.
In Part B, a 10:55 minute segment, she talks about the unexpected benefits she realized in her Tai Chi practice after being able to sustain only the minimum for about a year. To her surprise, she developed notably during that year in her technical abilities. It also allowed for more subtle aspects to emerge and with that, a deeper intimacy with both herself and her practice.
Commitment to the daily yoga/meditation practice we learned from Sadhguru is not a magic bullet, but it gives us common ground to stand on when things inevitably become too much. We are human after all, and imperfectly perfect, as all humans are.
Although the Shambhavi Kriya is my most important daily practice, I have others. The minimum/ maximum principle allows consistency. When time or energy is in short supply, I can throttle back to a shorter version but still stay connected to it in a fundamental way. On days when the opposite is true I enjoy a more fulsome set of practices that include feet exercises, wobble board and other things to support my aging body. We’ve all intuitively engaged in Laura’s min-max principle, but having clarified how these practices support us in our lives, I have more confidence in the possibility of including other supportive acts.
I’m hopeful that writing will be the next practice I develop, but for now I’m grateful to recognize the threads that I do have and how they support the energetic bond between my housemates and me. They are part of my community to live and die in, after all.
What unexpected benefits do your daily practices make possible? Let me know, I’d love to hear!
That lady is talking to a tree!
Haha! Stranger things have happened…